Weekend At Brandi's

Well, there was The Shopping on Friday. Don't get me started again.

But after all that shopping and cart-battling, we were starved. I gave her the choice: Taco Bell. Some little Italian Joint. Subway. Friendly's. (Isn't there an age restriction on Friendly's? I think we may be too spry.) Or the Chinese Joint next to the Italian Joint. Guess what she picked:


You should not be surprised by this. I don't even know why I wasted my breath giving her all the options.

We slept in slightly on Saturday morning because I was paranoid that the Realtors would be knocking my door down First Thing in the Morning wanting to see my beautiful house. They didn't. No one came and we could have slept until noon and then sat around all day in our underwear eating ice cream out of the carton, spitting sunflower seeds on the floor, and not cleaning up after ourselves. I was a little sad.

But then it was time for the Quinceanera party that Mac was invited to by her friend, John-Doe, and with all of the wondering if this was Mac's first date, I forgot all about my despair that no one wanted to buy my house on the very first day and how it was going to sit here rotting and empty and turn into a money pit; the weeds taking over the backyard and the spiders taking over the inside, and refocused on Mac. And her date. John-Doe's cousin was turning 15 and weeks ago he had invited Mac to go with him. No other kids in the class had been invited. I was a little concerned about this, as the Dating Age in our house is 16 (but we all know I will give in at 15 if she wants), but at the same time, is it really a date if she goes with his family? And she's 12? And there's little chance of making out in the front seat? I got a grip and decided it didn't qualify as a date, but asked her anyway. Her response was clear. She had been wondering too, "I don't know! I hope not!" OK! Good to know! So off she went...



...in my shoes...


And then called me later from the party to tell me how much these shoes were killing her feet. I laughed. And told her, "That's the price we pay. Welcome to the sisterhood." She didn't laugh back. ...I hear her feet still hurt.

Meanwhile, I tried to think of non-messy things to do. I made popcorn, watched Deadliest Catch, and began to look forward to living at home with my parents so I have someone to hang out with on Friday and Saturday nights. I'm a wild one, I am.

The Open House was on Sunday. We needed to make ourselves scarce so I invited myself, Mackenzie, and Taiko over to Singing-Lisa's house for the afternoon, where she fed us, Taiko sniffed her entire house, and we chatted for a bit. I was a little distracted and not a good conversationalist, I fear, because I was afraid no one was going to show up back at my house and was silently lamenting the crappy, crappy Market and my decision to price high. Please refer to aforementioned despair and imagine me just knowing that my friend/realtor was sitting in my house alone all afternoon. I told her that in case she got too bored, the Porn was in a red box in the attic. To please help herself.

The stress was for naught. Good things happened, which I will not talk about yet so as not to jinx myself.

(Even though I scoff at those who believe in the power of the jinx. And those who "knock on wood." Especially those who use their heads for said knocking. I double-scoff them.)

Also, I made chicken salad. With grapes:

It was delicious.