Friday evening we went up to the Corner Pocket, which is a pool hall. We played the Brooks vs. the Brandts, and Matt and I won - by the skin of our teeth! - both times, which surprised me, because Braz apparently plays pool on a fairly regular basis. But the table at Corner Pocket wasn't very good - the balls neither rolled nor bounced true, so almost no shots relying on reflections worked. We quit when it became obvious that Matt was getting a little overly competitive and Braz was getting extremely frustrated at missing shots because of the table.
We went to Uno's for dinner, which is something of a tradition when they come to visit. I was a little leery - the last time Matt and I were at Uno's, my meal had been sloppily prepared and not very good - but this time was an improvement. The waitress screwed up at the beginning and brought Kris and Matt flat soda water instead of real water, which was really gross. And the cook still needs a refresher course on the definition of rare as opposed to, say, medium. Sometime when I'm less hungry, I'll send it back until they get it right, just on principle. But once we got all of our drinks and food, we were pretty happy with it.
Saturday, we had plans to go to a party at Braz's sister's apartment in the evening, and we'd been told to expect a lot of food. We decided to eat a big lunch, and rely on the party food for dinner. So we went to the Backfin for lunch, which I've never left without groaning about how full I am. Braz was badly disappointed when he asked for steamed shrimp and was told that they don't turn on the steamer at lunchtime - and then further disappointed when the broiled shrimp platter only contained five shrimp. (I thought it looked pretty chintzy, myself.) But he forgave them after having their Key Lime pie for dessert, and both he and Kris agreed that the cornbread and hushpuppies were almost worth the trip by themselves.
Kris wanted to stop in at Target to pick up a t-shirt. While we were there, I found a vase to give my mother for Mother's Day, and Matt and Braz found the mother of all super-soakers. This thing was at least four feet long, as big around as my thigh, and had a fold-out tripod, for petesake, to help you aim. It was $50. After some discussion, they each settled on a smaller (but still enormous) gun, around $25. Kris decided to pick up water-pistols and goggles for Whitney and her fiancé Stuart. Then we prepared to go to the party.
We'd been told at first that this was Whitney's party. (Whitney being Braz's sister, who was graduating from William and Mary.) Then she told us that it was the party of one of her roommates. Then we found out that it was actually being thrown by the roommate's mother. Every iteration made us feel a little less certain about the party. When we got to Whitney's apartment, it was completely packed, from floor to ceiling and wall to wall, with peoples' relatives. There were several kids around the age of six, and I'm sure I saw someone's great-grandmother holding court in one corner of the living room.
Whitney looked at us with desperation. She didn't even know the college students to whom most of the relatives belonged, much less any of the relatives. Most of us didn't brave the living room - Matt and Braz managed to cross it in search of drinks, but discovered that there was no soda; only beer. (What the six-year-olds were drinking, I'm sure I don't want to know.) The food looked good, but we didn't want to go into the living room to get it. After a little while, we escaped upstairs to Whitney's room, where she and Stuart opened their presents and we suggested going back to our house for a water-fight.
Given the heat of the day and the extraordinary lameness of the party, she and Stuart both thought this was a fantastic idea. I gave them directions, and we left. They came about half an hour behind us after finding a change of clothes and making their polite exits.
Between the six of us, we had two monster water-guns, two water-pistols that would've been pretty impressive if they hadn't been stacked against the monster cannons, and several little squishy balls which were meant to be dunked in water and then thrown. There had been some talk of teams, but before we could actually organize anything, it had turned into a free-for-all. In self-defense, I found myself weilding the bucket we'd filled for the squishy-balls. Matt eventually found the spray nozzle for the hose and used it indiscriminately. We formed temporary alliances to cover each others' backs while we refilled, and betrayed the alliances almost immediately.
By the time we were all too tired to continue (except perhaps Stuart, who seemed to have boundless energy but was running out of people to shoot who weren't sitting gasping on the porch) we were all completely drenched. It was fun.
Sunday morning, Braz and I discovered that the drug store chain CVS is truly an astonishing place. I'd had a problem with one of my prescriptions, and asked my doctor's office to call in a replacement. Since Braz was going to the store to pick some things up anyway, he was nice enough to take me to the CVS.
The first thing we saw as we went into the CVS was a smallish box labelled Spirituality. "You always thought spirituality was something that required study and faith," Braz told me. "Little did you know that all you needed was some incense, available from CVS for only four dollars!"
While we were waiting for the pharmacist to open the pharmacy (we'd arrived just as the store opened for the day) he noticed a Cosmopolitan magazine. "Look!" he exclaimed. "CVS has everything you could possibly want in life!" In glaring orange letters on the Cosmo cover were the words "Tantric Sex."
So there you have it, kids: Spirituality and tantric sex, available from CVS drugstores everywhere for less than $10.
Sunday was fairly boring for Matt and I and probably pretty hectic for Braz and Kris. They left around 11:30 in the morning to meet up with Braz's family and go to Whitney's graduation (commencement at 1, departmental ceremony at 4, and then a family dinner at the Outback, which usually as a 45-minute wait in the off-season). Matt and I drove down to visit my parents and wish my mom a happy Mother's Day. We took them out to lunch/dinner at the Outback near their place. We went at 2:30 during the "lull" between meals, when the wait was only an hour and a half. Though we were actually seated after only about forty-five minutes.
We went back to their house and socialized for a while, and then headed home so we could get the laundry done. Around ten, Braz and Kris came back. Between being tired and wanting to help Whitney move, they'd decided to stay in Williamsburg one more night, but they'd gotten a room at a motel. We begged them to stay with us, but Braz's allergies were acting up, and our cat only makes them worse. Being allergy-prone ourselves, we understood.
Today, Matt's friend Tristan and his wife, Heather, will be arriving in town. They're staying with us tonight, Wednesday, and Thursday. (They're going up to visit some friends in D.C. Tuesday night.) I'm such a geek, I panicked a little when I realized that their being here meant we wouldn't be able to get on the MeadeHall tonight, but Matt sent out a quick note to the list, asking if anyone would mind if we moved this week's session to Tuesday instead.
No one objected, and since Braz and Kris won't be getting home until later today anyway, it's even better for them. So now I feel better - I can be an attentive hostess without giving up my MeadeHall fix. Heh.
Word of the Day: nadir - the lowest point
The best part of Braz and Kris' visit is probably a tie between the water-fight, which was just loads of fun; and the actual serious conversations I had at different times with each of them, because it's so easy to just take people at face value, without having to try to understand them or be understood. Those conversations were glimpses beneath the masks, and that's always been very precious to me.
I'd have to say the low point - the absolute nadir - for me at least, was Matt being sortof grumpy about my staying up until four in the morning talking to Braz. I hate it when Matt's grumpy and irritable. It's worse when it's my fault. Especially when, as in this case, I don't actually feel like I did anything wrong. (Ill-advised, yes, given that I was supposed to go to work Friday. Wrong, no.)
Funny that one of the best times is so closely linked to the worst. Life is like that, sometimes.
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