Saturday night, I dreamed that either there was a new Buffy ep, or Xander was guest-starring on Angel, and Spike had been attacked or knocked out in an accident or some situation where he was mostly catatonic but likely to be coming out of it soon, and Xander was watching him very carefully and then just leaned over and kissed him, really tenderly, on the corner of the mouth. At which point I, the (apparently unspoiled, which is bizarre, but hey, dream) audience member yelled "Hot damn!" or something similar, and vowed that I MUST post it to LJ RIGHT NOW, this very instant. (Which somehow involved me having to leave the house to find an internet connection, run all over town, never manage to find one, and then try desperately to make it back home to watch the ep, becacus, just like every other dream I've ever had about a "new" or missing episode of a TV show, I had forgotten to put a tape in.) I would like Joss to film my dream. (Except for the part about me not taping it.) Is this too much to ask? Really?
Sunday was spent hanging out with my uncles. (Well, and desperately cleaning the living room and Swiffering the floor in preparation for the arrival of same.) I got to show them my new toy (the digicam) and they got to show me that even in late middle age, the males in my family are continuing the fine tradition of talking over each other at all times and giving/receiving the worst possible driving directions ever, then complaining at length too loudly to hear the answers to their requests for clarification.
Eldest Uncle and Second Eldest Uncle (aka Ron and Dave) and I drove down to Beech Grove to visit Youngest Uncle Who Is Also Godfather (aka Chuck) and his family, taking the absolute longest route takeable, then arrived to find them not home. Lunch was suggested as an alternative to just turning around and driving off (which action would not be at all surprising among members of my family) and we headed off to Pizza Hut, only to be greeted by a sign that said "Loud And Proud Pacer Fans Within!" And indeed there were. We vacated to Steak & Shake, and a good time was had by all - including presumably the Loud And Proud Pacer Fans who didn't have to put up with me glaring at them and making pointed remarks about how some people truly don't give a fuck about local basketball and would like to eat their pizza in relative peace, thank you. Also, there was a hot fudge brownie with whipped cream and despite Dave mentioning -- against orders -- to the waitress that it was my birthday (which it was not), no one sang at me.
We got back, by some miracle, to Youngest Uncle's apartment, and this time, they weer home, so Christmas presents that hadn't been delivered since, er, Christmas, were delivered, batting practice with Chuck's youngest daughter occurred (my role being 'stand out of the way and take pictures'). I showed Eldest Uncle how to take a screencap of his Internet Explorer screen when he gets home, so he can e-mail it to me and I can see why the hell he allegedly doesn't have an address bar, but I have very little confidence in him remembering how to do that considering the thing where he doesn't know why he doesn't have an address bar.
Among the many things (mostly family pictures, some of which will get scanned in at some point so you can better see the cuteness that is me at four years old on a ride-and-roll plastic pony) he brought to me in a convenient canvas bag, was a jeweler's box that contained my grandmother's engagement ring, and wedding ring. No, that's not an andustable band on the engagement ring, and the wedding ring isn't supposed to be bizarrely incomplete. My grandfather snipped both rings off her fingers when she was pregnant with one of their 5 kids, and they never bothered to have, or never got round to having, the rings repaired. He bought her a new ring, instead, which she was buried with. When I was about one, so I never really knew her. I look an awful lot like her, though -- except for the part where her engagement ring fits my pinky. I may have it repaired and wear it that way regularly -- both because it was hers, and because it's very pretty.
Also, my great-grandmother's (Grandpa's mother) Riverside Literature Series copy of As You Like It (Price, paper, 15 cents; linen, 25 cents) and the cancelled check for the final payment to the hospital for my birth expenses. (Paid by my grandfather.) So if St. Margaret Mercy comes to repossess me, I have proof I'm paid for.
The boys dropped me off home because Ron wanted to get as much traveling back to his place (about 3 hours away) as possible done while it was still light out, and I vegged out on the newly-not-covered-with-piles-of-random-c
I got home, de-spammed my inbox, made about 5 random LJ comments, set kazaa to downloading the good version of Dirty Girls, and fell exhausted into bed.
And then today? I tried and failed to catch up with LJ, mostly. And as I ws walking out to go pick up maeyan from the car rental place, I checked the mail and a box came and in it was the Firefly DVDs and bouncebouncebouncebounce! From gem225 who is the most adorablest and didn't need to do any such thing but thankyouthankyouthankyou. And my grandmother (grandpa's second wife, who outlived him) kept up her every-three-out-of-four-gifts-is-actuall
And then we went to K-mart and I bought boxes for storing fannish stuff in and a pair or shorts and a packet of "relaxing tired leg gel" and food and cat litter and now I'm going to open irc and be sociable.
- Random Stuffness
rap couch with maeyan and watched more episodes of Great Teacher Onizuka than was strictly sane, before heading out for a midnight supper at Zelma's, a 24-hour diner with great pie, of which we were both too tired, and not really hungry enough to partake. y-something-remotely-cool-as-opposed-to-s ocks-or-another-music-box thing that's been happening in recent years, with a great giftbook called Glorious Cats, an anthology of cat paintings and quotes.