"pies and pints at 7:30" - K-Train

Kickball got rained out tonight, but then it turned sunny. Although it was windy enough I thought I was in Chicago....

So instead we met at Pies and Pints, and forgave our waitress for being slow because 1) the pies were melt in your mouth concoctions of goodness 2) she was the only one working the front, and 3) she split up our checks for us.

"This is the story of your red right ankle...." - the decemberists

For those who are squeamish about feet, you shouldn't read this. It's pretty gross.

I love the red right ankle song, and I've been singing it a lot lately....mostly because two months ago blunt trauma happened to my right big toe and half my toenail fell off. And then last week, I was moving furniture around in my room, which I do about every ten seconds. I moved my bed to every possible place it could go in my room, and in the process I stubbed my two baby toes. They've become black. So only two of my five right toes are normal at the moment. It's a good thing I've got closed-toed shoes for the upcoming weddings...and I am wondering what will happen next to the two remaining healthy ones. At least feet can be covered up. It's not like half my face fell off.

things my friends have on their gchat status:

A.K.A. my friends are the coolest people ever.

Craigslist Personals (bob)

Katrina Politics (johnny v)

Breakfast Cake (k8)

Bobby Kennedy on MLK's Death (meg)

woohoo mhgs! (april)

"I wore a wool coat today." (lkt)

And Rachel Evans is spending the day "convincing the scared kids to ride rollercoasters at Six Flags."

Only laura lives in Seatle. This means I either need to get more friends in this city, or the ones I have here need to step up their gchat status.

My status is: "There's a wideness in God's mercy I cannot find in my own," which is from an ancient Rich Mullins song and is true, because I am very angry at someone who miscommunicated with me in a major way. I understood for the first time this week why there are lawyers in the world. To advocate for us when we don't know how to advocate on our own. And I really appreciated Princess Consuela's advice, on a side note. Just so she knows she's appreciated.

My status is about to change, though, to "papasans might be the most underappreciated furniture ever. get yourself one." If nothing else this week made sense to me, I know that papasan chairs are fantastic, and I am getting one tomorrow.

"This whole week has been a mistake." - Mom

My mom and dad were supposed to go on vacation this week. Mom was taking a class on shibori fabric dying, from one of the world's leading experts, the woman whose material was used in costumes for The Lion King. Pretty cool stuff. (on a side note, I saw the Lion King in London in spring 2002, and I paid 10 pounds to stand up in the back of the theater. It was perhaps one of best uses of $15.00 I've ever made.)

But in the place they rented, Dad kept falling off the tiny bed, and the heat didn't work. Also, Mom woke up sick and went to her class, which was using space heaters since their heat was also out. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but in Washington, sometimes you need heat in June. Actually, most of the time.

They rented a different place, but the only pet-friendly place they found was a smoker's room, which makes Mom wheeze. And she didn't feel well enough to go to her class. So they came home early and Mom's still sick, in bed, and Dad's puttering around the house.

Some weeks are like that, even in Australia.

I took Dad's truck back home last night since I had used it to move a table, and I was very angry about some miscommunication that happened earlier this week. Mom, in her infinite wisdom even from her sickbed, said that everyone makes mistakes, and no one is perfect. It helped me calm down a little bit.

"I'd like to point out three words to you: Lots of pulp." - Dad

I spent a lot of time with my family this weekend. It's good I like them or it would have been difficult.

• Friday night, my cousin Anne graduated, and I went instead of going to a potential date-getting opportunity. I'm just sayin.' Graduation speakers ought to be shorter. Also, nobody has yet topped the Everybody's free to Wear Sunscreen article. I vote this just gets read at all of 'em.

• Saturday, we had a barbecue in the rain and Dad grilled steaks, Mom made old favorites, and we celebrated birthdays, graduations, and Mother's Day all at once. The remodel, which is still not finished - 12 months and counting - is almost done and has improved things. The patio's gorgeous, there's room for tons of people, and after cake from Remo's we played whiffleball and badminton in the backyard. And Grandpa recreated the moment Kruschev took his shoe off: "We will bury you!" Exciting stuff.

(For the record, Princess Consuela was the best batter. She hit about 8 of 11 pitches. I think the Mariners should sign her given their current track record. And in badminton, Redman and I beat Floyd and P.J. even though we had the disadvantage of having to watch where we stepped since the neighbor's dog Hercules slips into the back and does his business there. He is called Hercules for good reason -there were several places on the field we avoided by leaping. We still won.)

• Sunday morning Dad made omelettes like he always does, thankfully without the 18 garlic cloves he likes to put in. He gave us all our omelettes and got some orange juice out of the fridge. He noticed Mom had gotten another carton of o.j. and mentioned he needed to tell us all something. I turned my letters to the editor over, P.J. flipped the sports page, and Mom kept reading the comics.

Dad: "Betsy, did you buy this orange juice?"

Mom: "Yes, I did. It was on sale." (over her shoulder.)

Dad: "I'd like to point out three words: lots of pulp. " ('lots of pulp' is accompanied by finger tapping on each word of the offending container, even though I am the only one facing him to see the finger movements.)

Mom: "Mm-hmm."

Dad: "I hate lots of pulp."

Greta, P.J.: laughing hysterically.

Mom: (laughing.) "Okay, honey."