Okay, we're on Saturday now, right? I'll backtrack a little to Friday for the girls' weekend. They both went to the Homecoming game with their friends. I know I've mentioned on here before that I didn't get to do a lot of stuff when I was in high school. I never went to a Homecoming dance and I don't remember ever going to the game either. That's one thing I've always wanted for my girls, that they could have a way more positive high school experience than I had. Which wouldn't be hard at all. I never wanted them to be isolated out in the country, with no way into town and staying home cleaning on weekend nights when all their friends were whooping it up. I definitely don't let them do whatever they want, but I try to give them the freedom to socialize and do all the typical high school things I only read about or heard about from my friends when I was their age.
On Friday night, the girls got home right after Rooney ended and hung around at my house with a couple of friends. They said that one of the girls who lives upstairs was making out with some guy in the car in our driveway. They kept looking out the window to see how steamed up the windows were getting and getting grossed out and giggling about it. Hey, maybe we don't need cable after all.
On Saturday morning, the girls woke me up around 6:30 so I could take them to work. My migraine must have started in my sleep, which is the worst, because I can't nip it in the bud with my preventative drugs. When I got back home, I took some migraine meds and the combination of that and the pain knocked me out, until the girls called me around 11 to pick them back up.
I took the other half of my migraine pill about noon and then ran Stinky all over to get her last minute Homecoming accessories. I finally dropped her off at her friend's house to get ready. Coadster's friend came to our house and I got to take a couple of photos of her and her friend before they went to another girl's house. Who had any idea it took five hours to prep for a two hour dance?
Stinky told me to stop by her friend's house around 6:15 to take photos. I was still way out of it from the one-two punch of pain and meds. I figured there would be a couple of kids and maybe a parent or two around to snap a few pics and then go home. I showed up in a knock around pair of shorts and tank top with my hair all frizzy and pulled back.
I was so wrong. There were all kinds of parents taking photos and for some reason they were pretty dressed up. Do you think they live soap opera lives and walk around their houses in full make-up, perfect hair and all dressed up in heels? I kept a running loop of "Which One of These Things Is Not Like the Other" in my head the whole time I was there.
I got some cute shots of Stinky, which was really the most important thing.
Oh, and the shoes. I guess, according to Stinky, photographing the shoes was a must.
Right as I was leaving, I heard a call to take a group pic of the parents and I was not having any of that. Nobody wants a pic of me with a bunch of people I don't know in my ratty clothes. I think Stinky would have liked me to join in the group photo, but I really needed to go home and lie down for about a week and half.
I got home and rested. I watched a movie called Under the Same Moon. It was the saddest thing I've ever seen. Maybe not the best viewing idea. My normal comfort experience when I'm not feeling all that great, is eating a grilled cheese sandwich, and tomato soup and watching The Goonies or Roadhouse. (I'm not kidding) Stinky's comfort movie is Ferris Bueller's Day Off and Coadster's is Breakfast at Tiffany's.
By around midnight, Coadster came home with her friend. Stinky spent the night at another friend's house. My headache was finally over and I had this weird urge to clean shit. I can only assume I was delusional from all the migraine business. Anyway, I stayed up past two cleaning my fridge and washing dishes and my kitchen floor and doing laundry. Coadster and her friend basically fell asleep sitting up, watching a movie on the couch. I guess I stayed home cleaning on a weekend night while all my friends were whooping it up as an adult too, but it's way better when it's my choice.