Birthdays, Vacations, and Moms

Yeah.  Birthday.  Here we go again - wait, what?  Terry is having a bash out at a place with a bar and big TVs for the first Packer game to celebrate her birthday - on my birthday - and I'm included for nothing?

No brainer, right?  Well for me it wasn't so simple, and went from possibly scary and/or embarrassing to a perfect, fun birthday for me.  See, I was first presented with the idea on one of our outings on the boat, it was one of those things where everybody looks at you and says, 'right?' and so you just say 'okay, right,' without being able to think about it much.  First of all, it was to be on the day of the first regular season Packer game.  Second, it was on my actual birth day.  And third, it was at the beginning of my long needed vacation.  I had plans, kinda (hint: this is why OCD is a label on this post).  Certainly not great plans, but still, I do what I do on Packer Sundays (-and noon, Sunday Packer games are prime viewing but becoming less and less common.)  So I went with it at the time.  Later when I was thinking about it more and having a rather fruitless - for me - discussion about it with my wife, it was settled - I was going to someone else's birthday party on my birthday.  Not an accurate way to state it, but the funniest!

It turned out to be a great private room at a local place with our own bar, bartender and buffet.  Not to mention the one huge projection and two big screen TVs to show the Packer game.  We didn't have near enough friends show up to fill the room but plenty of friends were there to have fun with and we were able to spread out as necessary.  Of course, Terry included me in everything even though she planned and paid.  I was very happy for the friends that showed up, all our mutual friends and through Terry and even a few of my own friends were nice enough to show up - and bearing gifts!  Thank you all, and many thanks to Terry, this was a pretty good day!  And the Packers won!

Of course, I guess I was having such a good time still after the game that we stopped off at a local tavern for a few, and then I guess I had even more at home.  The problem with day drinking is night doesn't tell me when to stop, I guess.  I paid for it Monday, like I haven't in years.  I did get the few things done that day that were required, but otherwise I was bottle-flu-boy all day.  Eh, you live, you learn, then you forget and learn again.

Vacation.  As I said, I am on vacation this week.  Thank goodness because I never would have made it to work on Monday (see above).  I like to have one big, main project on my staycation vacations, in addition to a list of smaller things to complete.  This year my main project has been a reset, of sorts, of my workbench area in the garage.  I was going to post about that here and now, but that is worth it's own post, maybe tomorrow, but if I state that it usually takes a few days it seems.

It was supposed to be started on Monday, well, that never happened.  So much of Tuesday and the first part of today went into the garage.  And the thing about tearing up the workbench area to redo it is that once everything was deconstructed I had no idea where the tool was that I needed when I needed it.  I found my way eventually.  Anyway, more to come on that.  Now...

I love my Mom, and I know she loves me, and us.  And the internet.  Thank you for stopping by, Mom, and at 49 years old now but at the risk of sounding like a selfish teenager that gets embarrassed by their parents:  Gawd, Ma, this isn't facebook!  I know you love us, thank you for stopping saying it in every single comment recently, but now you're commenting on almost every effing post.  Back off!  When I need a president for my fan club I'll let you know.  Gawd!

Seriously, I love you but I feel your presence has been great recently.  You texted me, sent a card, and commented for my birthday before I could write about it.  My name is not even on this site, on purpose, let alone my details.  And if the only comments I get now are from my mom I need to seriously rethink doing things here.  Please call me, it would seem we need to get together soon.

Sigh.  Am I a bad son?  Happy Birthday to me.  Gawd!