Saturdays around here don't tend to be a beehive of activity. There's usually some kind of sporting event, for one kid if not both, early in the day, and then some down time and we catch up on Modern Family (Matt and Eve and me), Person of Interest (Matt and Angus and me) and/or House of Cards (Matt and me - Angus hung around for part of one hoping for some kind of salaciousness and almost died of boredom; not a future politician, I guess). Saturdays after Matt has just returned home from a week overseas are usually reserved for stumbling through the required activity and then adjourning to the couch (him) and the reading chair (me) for some recovery time.
As things shook out, he was scheduled to get home from France Friday night, after a week in California and a week in Asia not long ago, but Eve's spring Glee recital was on Saturday morning and I had NAC tickets for Saturday night, AND then we found out that Collette's birthday dinner was reserved for Saturday night also. So I took Collette out for dinner last week, and figured that Saturday I would go to the Glee recital, the NAC event, then stop by Collette's for a civilized drink before heading home to sleep the sleep of the virtuous and well-rounded.
I bet you can guess how well THAT worked out for me.
First, Matt's flight got cancelled. He was rebooked on one that was scheduled to land in Ottawa at 11:30. The recital was at 12:30. We figured it was going to be a Disney-movie-type-thing, except he would probably arrive seconds AFTER Eve performed, not before. Eve was fine - she felt bad that he felt bad, and I said I would try to record it. My mom was coming with us, and Eve's teacher, because she is just that awesome.
The recital was fantastic. Not in the way that Glee the television show is fantastic, because they're all professional singers and actors who are just playing regular kids. These were regular kids who had the balls to sing in public. They weren't all great, but they were mostly quite good (my kid was the best, duh). And their two songs (Break Away and Price Tag) were bookended by ballet and tap performances by five-year-olds, and how better to be bookended than by a dozen little pink-gowned blissed-out darling children reveling in the sheer joy of being small and pink and dancing on a stage? And then at the end we found out that Matt had (by breaking a land-speed record and three traffic laws) actually made it seconds before Eve's class went on. So that was awesome.
Then I went to see Shane Koyczan with a couple of book club friends. Honestly, I bought the ticket in the spirit of trying something a little new, and I wasn't sure how into it I would be, especially given that I was exhausted. I wasn't sure if it would be too earnest, or if I would find it like the symphony where my mind drifts and I can't stay focused on the performance, or if, as my friend Carolyn said, we might get trampled in a mob of besotted hipsters.
It was phenomenal. It was spectacular. It was fantastic, and I say this from the bottom of my cynical, middle-aged, shriveled little heart. It was earnest in the very best way, but the emotional intensity was liberally sprinkled with profane hilarity, and my ears couldn't look away. I can't find most of the poems online either because I can't remember what they were called, or because they're new, but he did this one (without music, which I actually prefer), and don't feel bad if you don't feel like watching it because I almost never watch videos embedded in blogs either, but it's very good. And I have to say, everything he said rang so true, except that he still doesn't go to beaches or public places and hasn't had many relationships, because I have to think that this dude gets so much ass flung at him he must not be able to catch it with both hands and a net.
Then I went to Collette's. Matt had gone to the birthday dinner, which was heroic in the extreme since he had probably been awake for over twenty-four hours now, so he kissed me and went home. And I had a beer. And then the whole night turns into a hazy haze of WTF punctuated by flashes of OH DEAR GOD, and there was a bottle of rum with a kraken on it and some kind of weird hop-flavoured bourbon, and a lengthy, serious discussion about elbows. Then I was towed home like a salvaged galleon through the streets of Barrhaven by three friends who wouldn't let me lie down on someone's lawn for a rest no matter how much I begged. And I slept the sleep of the debauched and repentant.
How was your week-end?