lunch with the girls

Mama gets her hair done every Thursday at Angel's salon...like, for as long as I can remember. When she and daddy could drive they managed to get her there but it's been a regular route on our pickup and delivery schedule for the past few years. Every third Thursday I'm off usually, so we took the opportunity today to round up Mom, Aunt Granny, Babygirl and myself and head to Applebee's for some giggles. They love to tell tales on each other when there's an audience, each of them proclaiming to be "the good child". Granny told Mom today that their father thought she was gonna be a boy because she had found it in a letter. Cracked.Me.UP. They chatted about filling their new old cars up with kids and doing stupid shit like driving on the sidewalk while the patient fifties era policeman silently shook his head. Kids will be kids, ya know? I can remember things being that innocent at one time in my life, an experience that the GenXers will never know. How sad.

I gave up the tanning bed years ago, but I'm seriously considering a session or two just to get some sun. I mean, for real? I can't imagine what kind of terror it must have been in those mines where those guys got trapped. It messes with your mind, kinda like ICU psychosis or something. Daily savings time starts this weekend, OF COURSE, because I have to be at work at 6AM. Boo..hiss. Everybody in the 'burg but me is going to see Kid Rock in Memphis. I'll be snuggled with a dog or two going to bed an hour early. Gigi offered me a free ticket to see Lady A tonight, but I don't even have the gas money to get there. Oh, well...

Water's still rising, and I sure hope the local levees got repaired right last May after "the big one." My friend lives down the the flats of Bradley close to the Mississippi and and he has a contingency plan to stay here if the water gets over his road. About a half a mile from the river proper, it can get there real quick. I remember, as a child, seeing houses on stilts down there where people would be stranded for weeks without a boat. They call it the BIG muddy for a reason.