Longest week, ever
I haven't yet been married three weeks and I'm already batch-in' it. Hope's company is having their annual conference this week and she got stuck in Vegas. That's rough, my firm has our annual conference about a mile from the office—I'm the winner, no contest.
Anyway, she left Monday afternoon and won't be back to Friday. She left me in charge of sending the invitations out to our wedding reception this May. It's the least I can do, since she planned and organized the wedding, honeymoon, and reception. It's a bigger task than you think and it took me most of three days to get done but as of 1 PM (eastern) it's accomplished.
That wasn't my only task this week—I've been busy.
On Tuesday night not only did I get a haircut but I attended my first homeowners meeting with our condo association. Now, that was exhilarating. For those that don't know, a condo/homeowners association is elected by the owners of a development to set rules and regs for the development as well as enforce them. In theory, I s'pose its government for the people by the people at the lowest level. In reality, it's a bunch of old people bitchin' about their neighbors and thinking they're important. The opening agenda item was "resident concerns" and the first woman to step up rattled off a list (by address) of our neighbors and how they were breaking the rules. The horrible transgressions included (no joke) someone having a single window pane rather than double and someone having a kick plate two inches too tall on their screen door. The next agenda item was for the board to consider variance applications—basically people who want to avoid old woman #1 from tattling on them when they install a brass light fixture rather than a black one. This process took forever and the group was catty beyond belief. My favorite one to watch was the board secretary—who looks like a homely Reba McEntire. She would start scowling and shaking her head as soon as each application was opened—I'll sleep better knowing she's on guard to protect my property values.
Tomorrow night is the big night of the week. I'm scheduled to take in my first Pacers game. Actually, I've never been to an NBA game and this will be my first local sporting event since we made the move in December. Hope and I were/are season ticket holders at ISU and made most basketball games in Ames so I've been going through a little withdrawal. Anyhoo, Brian from work and I are going to take a client and his wife out to eat downtown and then head over to the fieldhouse for the game. In honor of the occasion I stopped out to the mall tonight to buy a Pacers hat so I can act like a local. It should be a fun game to see—they're playing The Heat so I'll get to see Shaq and hopefully Tinsley for the hometown club (although he might be hurt).
The Pacers hat wasn't my only acquisition of the evening. I stopped in to Dick's and found the clearance rack for Colt's merchandise. I got a reebok t-shirt and another hat, each for ten bucks. The t-shirt will be good to wear in the office next fall on "Blue & White Fridays" and I can wear the hat when I head back home in a few weeks for our annual NFL draft party (even though I'm a Vikings fan). It'll give Nick D something to talk about (which will undoubtedly begin with a statement on his love for Peyton Manning and his inability to beat the Pats).
While at Hat World (you probably call it "Lids") the clerk tried to sell me a frequent hat buyer card. Can you believe it? For a mere $5 I can get a percentage off every hat I buy in the next year. I laughed in his face. How many hats can one buy in a year? Counting the two I bought tonight, I've only bought three in last five years. Isn't amazing how every store has a frequent buyer card now? PetSmart and Kroger I can understand—I frequently buy there. But Hat World? C'mon.
