Life Is Such A Sweet Insanity.

So here it is Friday night and Earl and I are sitting upstairs playing on the computer. It’s very still outside, which has me a little nervous because I see Chicago east through the Ohio Valley is having some wild weather with tornado warnings and such. Normally, I would be quite excited about the possibility of that blowing through here except for one thing.

I’m on call this weekend.

I can’t really complain about on-call, as my team leader took two nights of my duties this week so I could go to school Tuesday and Thursday. On call during the week is the hardest part of the whole on call thing, the weekend is cake because I can sleep when I need to. So I’m not going to complain about it.

It does leave me wondering what to do this weekend though. We spent last weekend cleaning the house so aside from dusting, laundry and watering the plants, the house is in decent shape. I think I feel a video project stirring. Perhaps I’ll have to mess around with that a little bit and see if I can dream up something interesting. Now that the basement is cleaned out, I have room to put together a green screen.

Maybe I’ll try flying in a video.

Last Tuesday I was busy at work when my cell phone honked indicating that I had received a text message. I usually save my text messaging for after work hours, so I knew that something was up when my phone dinged in. The message was simple:

“Holy shit dad is getting married on sun call me”

The message was from my sister. Apparently she had spoken with my father and learned of some joyful family news. Luckily it was just before lunchtime, so I took the opportunity to call her during lunch. She told me that Dad and his girlfriend Karen had decided to get married and they were ready to do it over the coming weekend. They didn’t want any fuss and they didn’t want anyone to know that they were getting married so that there would be a huge party or anything like that. They would appreciate it if we didn’t tell anyone of their news.

So Sunday evening, Earl and I and my sister Jennifer went to Dad and Karen’s wedding. It was a beautiful, simple ceremony at the church Karen and her son have attended since moving to this area around 10 years ago. Their closest friends, people Jennifer and I have known all our lives, stood along side them as they exchanged their vows as we sat in the pews watching, praying and wishing them well. There was no organ music, there was no procession down the aisle; the simplicity added to the beauty.

Afterwards we all went to dinner in the historic village of Sackets Harbor, which is located near where the St. Lawrence Seaway and the 1000 Islands meet Lake Ontario. The food was delicious, the conversation was lively and the smiles were beaming.

It was truly a wonderful evening. I’m glad I don’t have to keep the secret any longer. I’m not that good at it.

And now I’m the red headed stepchild of the family.

I wake up this morning and notice that I can’t see outside at all. It is the foggiest I’ve seen it in years. Why, it’s foggier than it ever was on Scooby Doo when they were trying to trap the bad guy. I can’t see a thing.

I think the Universe is telling me something with this fog. You see, last night Earl and I decided to go out to dinner after working on cleaning the basement and garage and ripping out the swimming pool all day long. Going out would be a celebration that we accomplished the job that we didn’t think we’d really get done. I believe my words were, “after all this hard work, I want an evening of debauchery!” We’d go out to dinner and then maybe to one of the bars in Syracuse where I could stand and pose and feel pretty. I was even flagging, which I haven’t done in years. It adds to the mystique.

So we headed west to eat at the local Carrabba’s, which is better than Olive Garden but still has the trappings of a national chain. While en route, Earl talked to my sister to see what she was up to and invited her along for the fun. I also told Earl that I wasn’t going to drink any beer, since I’m such a lightweight and would be a mess after just two.

It turns out I opted for red wine instead.

I don’t know why I thought I could handle wine better than beer but that theory was shot completely out the window last night. The two glasses of “house red” were certainly enjoyable, but made me really foggy. Really, really foggy. As I sit here and type this entry, I’m realizing that I have little recollection of coming home. I certainly hope Earl drove. I suspect he did because while I like living life on the edge, I’m not that irresponsible. I know I had hopes of going out after dinner but apparently that didn’t come to fruition.

I’m done drinking any alcohol for quite a while.

I do remember having some great conversation with my sister and Earl during dinner. We always laugh so much when we’re together. She’s getting ready to head for Russia for a month, as her boyfriend is a Canadian pro-hockey player and is over there playing hockey again this season. I don’t remember much after dessert though.

So now it’s shortly after 6 a.m. on a Sunday morning and I’m barely back on earth. I think I’m going to take a nap.