Invasion of the Pouty Lip

Well, last weekend was largely uneventful. Generally, I appreciate uneventful weekends. They afford me the luxury of sleeping in past 6 a.m. and catching up on my DVR backlog of Jon & Kate Plus 8, Kath & Kim, and 30-Minute Meals (ok, fine. also Real Housewives of Atlanta, but I fast forward through the parts where they speak. no one needs that kind of volume, seriously, please speak English, and do so at a volume we can tolerate. thanks.)

However, I've recently begun to suspect that I need to have eventful weekends, to stay occupied, keep busy, avoid dwelling. Saturday, Gray left for a visit with some family and I declined to accompany him. What did I do in his absence? Well, I got out of bed, reheated some coffee, balanced my checkbook, and got back into bed. I pouted in bed. All day. I couldn't fall asleep, but instead lay and felt sorry for myself. For hours and hours. Gray arrived back around 4:00 to find me laying unshowered in a mess of sheets, staring up at the ceiling, and he had to pester me into getting up at all. Tickling was threatened. WTF?

Eventually, I was up and we killed some time (he playing guitar, me moping on the couch, which is SO totally more acceptable than moping in bed) before heading to some friends' for a UFC fight. Which, can I say, is the most homo-erotic activity I've ever witnessed, what with the half-naked grappling, slippery torsos, and what appear to be harmless ear punches (just enough to make it look like they don't want to rip off each other's silky shorts and do the deed right there on national television).

It was a huge relief to be out with other people who do not tolerate moping. The gals played games, Apples to Apples making it's grand re-emergence into my life for the first time since the infamous "Incubus sucks" ordeal. My team won a round of the game Cranium, a feat I thought only slightly more likely to occur in my lifetime than my getting a pie wedge playing Trivial Pursuit some day. I think my unlikely victory may have been due to the fact that my team mate was literally a Neuro-surgeon.

The Massive Cramps messed with me all weekend. These cramps, I'm not sure that I've ever experienced an equivalent sort of pain, not even post D&C. Wave after wave, the cramps made me hunch over and pant like a fucking dog until the ibuprofen kicked in. Been popping those puppies like candy. The only respite came from curling in a ball and refusing to move. Apparently movement makes them angry. I thought about calling the doctor to ask if this is normal, cramps that feel more like what I'd expect from early labor than from a run-of-the-mill period. But that would have meant talking on the phone, plus there hasn't been much going these last few months that I have expected, and my doctor might start to wonder if I'm stalking him, should I call his cell phone once more on the weekend.

I did get to go to a GIANT craft show with my Jill and her girls. That was a bright spot, and cheered me up enough to prevent a return to bed-moping on Sunday. Instead I did laundry and went food shopping. Which is so TOTALLY EXCITING, I know. I even squeezed a weird looking fruit, you know, for fun. I almost bought the thing, but it cost $10 and who has that kind of money to go around buying weird looking fruit? If you do, please send money.

So to recap my weekend: pouting, TV, pouting, cramps, winning Cranium, cramps, pouting. MONDAY. (I realize, of course, that today is now Wednesday, but I've been too busy pouting to tell you about my weekend. Keep tripping on my lip.)