I've got the day off today, which finally gives me a chance to write about the week-end.
This has been a period of good news for both of us. Corb learned Friday that he's being considered for a nice promotion at work, which will eventually (if he does well) lead to Sales Manager at the hotel. Chances look pretty good that he'll get the job, too, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed. For my part, I found out about my bonus yesterday, and let's just say, I'm a happy camper. February is always a pretty tight month, but it looks as though the coffers will be filled again, come March.
Friday night we watched Must Love Dogs . It was a well-intentioned movie, although the portrayal of the gay couple in it made me want to throw things at the set. Of course, they were the bestest friends with the protagonist, and they come over at just the right point in the movie, when she's feeling down, in order to take her for...midnight manicures! Wheeeee!
Please. FOR THE RECORD: I have never had, and never will have, any desire whatsoever to have a manicure. None. Zip. Nada. In fact, my nails are DISGUSTING. I bite the hell out of them, actually. Even the skin, sometimes. Don't believe me? Check this out:
Saturday was spent with Corb's family. It was his mom's 60th birthday. We tied black balloons around everything, including her car, which we made up as though she were going on her honeymoon, or something. And then, after the party was over, we drove over to visit Joanie, and see how Stormy was doing.
It's been a while since Corb's seen Stormy, and it was about seven at night, and already dark, when we made our way down the dirt road that leads to Joannie and Leslie's farmhouse. And cold.
The front light wasn't on, but there were clearly lights on in the house. Corb knocked on the door, and you immediately heard a howl of dogs--Joannie has at least seven, including Stormy, and also, ten cats.
Leslie opened the door. I peeked in, and there was Stormy, right out in the front of the pack.
Joannie was busy moving the dogs into the kitchen. She always reminds me of my sister Laurie, with short, brown, feathered hair, and a thin horizontal glass frames. However, she's always warm and friendly to me, so it's sort of my relationship with my sister, set in a parallel universe (to steal shamelessly from Molly Matalin).
The women were making supper, but the place is so laid back, it didn't matter that were hanging around. The conversation kept flowing, and Corb received plenty of Stormy time: three hours worth. Joannie and Leslie made supper and ate supper, and were ready for dessert by the time that we left, at which point, Stormy was all curled up near Corb's side, sleeping.
Stormy's been fine. Her problems with diarrhea have all cleared up, with the proper diet. Her hip is still a bit of a problem, but not enough so that there's any need to put her down. She's living a very happy life, and follows Joannie around everywhere.
Joannie and Leslie claim she may have Alzheimer's. I prefer to think of her as more like Aunt Clara on Bewitched. Perhaps she's a bit befuddled, but she's still quite sweet and loving, and you never mind having her around.
It's nice to see that it all worked out, and that Stormy's doing just fine. Of course, with all the cats and dogs, I left the place with my eyes bloodshot and a runny nose that wouldn't quit for hours--and we almost left with a huge black cat that took a shine to Corb. We were mighty tempted to bring it with us (Joannie's looking for a home for him), but we thought two cats might be too much.
Of course, Joannie did have words for the birthday girl. But let's not go into that, okay?