I was really hoping that this would be the year I officially mended my friendship with Messiah, but that has unofficially been postponed to next year.
Not that this year was terribly terrible, but the Calvinhorn was still a little grudgeful and there might have been a few errant notes that may haunt the Handel grave for the next 365 days. Sorry George Frideric! I hope the performances of the amazing soloists and other orchestra people will help you rest in peace till then...
I think I have some reconciling to do with the Calvinhorn...2012 resolution, perhaps?
In between the two Saturday Messiah performances, my strapping young Greg of a man (seriously, he looked good) took me out. Because I had a couple hours to kill and it was either clean the living room or eat. And as appealing as cleaning the living room was, eating's kind of always a trump card. So we hopped in the Caspermobile (hop hop) and began our typical "pick a restaurant" game.
The "pick a restaurant" game.
Involves a lot of aimless driving. It usually begins with the Gregman exclaiming "Hooters!" (first restaurant we see when driving down the road. isn't that nice?). And continues with more exclamations as we're driven about with the wind, each shot down by an increasingly hangry Kyoo.
"Fuddruckers!"
"Too fatty."
"That Japanese restaurant!"
"Too pricey."
"Maggianos!"
"I don't feel like eating a whole chicken."
"McDonalds!"
"Your mom."
The Gregman does some shooting down of his own, let's be fair here, but it's probably mostly my fault. I think it comes from growing up in a town with one restaurant. I never learned how to choose! There was Jake's Diner (or hamburgers at the "legion"...but only on football game nights). So 99.9% of the time we didn't eat out.
Whether or not that's the case, the game's a bit painful and usually climaxes with a really frustrated Gregdriver (though he's quite the champ at controlling his temper) and a really hangry Kyoo (not as champy with the temper control thing). It's kind of an essential climax though because it's usually when we reach this boiling point that we just pull into the closest restaurant.
This time it was Cheddar's.
As haphazard as the restaurant game may seem, it works. We play it a few times a month and almost always end up somewhere new that we're both satisfied with. Or at Jimmy Johns. That's kind of become the default.
After Cheddars and one last Messiah performance there was this thing called the USAA Holiday Party to attend. So it was back in the Caspermobile to be whisked away by my dashing chauffeur. (I'm going to get a call when he reads that...).
A stealthy wardrobe change and a few angry words aimed at a malfunctioning mobile website later and...the fun has arrived! (that line just came to me from Tarzan).
So, this USAA Holiday Party? Um, it's kind of a big deal. They rent out the Alamodome all professional-like and then transform it into some exotic destination. This year's choice?
Viva Las Vegas!
In years past, I'd joined the party in a timely manner and secured a table and all that jazz. But this year, arriving all fashionably late and such, there was "bleacher-room-only". So we loaded up our plates and ate second dinner on our laps. (with all the other cool people, of course).
Fun fun in heels and a dress! If my wardrobe change earlier in the car wasn't stealthy, that sure was.
The "headlining" performers this year were Huey Lewis and the News. Question mark? I'll be honest, I'd heard "Power of Love" but that was about it. Still a good show. I wanted to join the thriving "mosh pit" up at the stage but the Gregpooper was all "I'm tired" and therefore we remained in the deepest bowels of the Alamodome bleachers and people watched all night.
Cause really, we couldn't watch much else from back there.
So people-watch we did! All sorts of dresses and odd couples and even some costumes to excitedly point out! But then these jugglers came by a-dazz-a-lin' and that stole our attention right up. We stared at them all spellbound for a while, and now that I think of it, I'm really surprised the Gregteller didn't dive into his "I taught myself how to juggle in like 30 minutes" story. Because that's usually the one that comes up whenever the subject of juggling is in any way approached. I love it.
After a bit more Huey and his News people, and also several "Ohmuhgoodness can we just leave yet?" looks from the peanut gallery, I agreed to call it a night. And do you know how my Gregpleader thanked me?? Only by refusing to take my picture with Mr. and Mrs. Claus! Ugh. Second failed attempt. His excuse was that I was wearing a red dress and it would do all sorts of blending with their attire, rendering me just a floating head in the picture. (In case you can't translate, that's really just Gregspeak for "I don't want to stop").
I gave him my little "I'm so mad" scowl but got over it after we raced up the stairs and out to the car. (I won). (In heels). And then I sang all of my Christmas favorites to the Gregdriver on the way home to keep him awake.
He loved that, like always.
Also, does anyone else feel weird sitting on a bus without a seatbelt? I don't think I've ever worn a seatbelt on a bus, and maybe I'm getting all old and worry-crazy, but it just doesn't feel right...
Have a great day :-)
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