tobermory's Diaryland Diary


I am so relaxed

Well, for not doing much I had a pretty fab weekend. Friday Steve and I headed down to Chicago’s venerable Steppenwolf Theater to see a new production of Winesburg, Ohio. It’s based on the book by the same name by Sherwood Anderson and I remember reading it about ten years ago and liking it, so when I had the opportunity to purchase ‘preview’ tickets for $15 a pop I decided to give it a go. I usually hate most live theatre – it could be a lingering distaste for ‘theatre-people’ with all their irritating self-importance and flamboyance (do NOT read this as anti-gay – I just feel that theatre-people never stop acting and are therefore all gesture-y and act-y all the time) but since it was a cheap ticket I figured I could chance it. I figured that if it really sucked we could leave at intermission. Surprisingly (I say this because it was a musical adaptation which could have added up to The Big Suck) it was really good. The pacing was good and the music added to the show. I did however come away with the opinion that most guys involved in theater are really shrimpy – must be some sort of Napoleon complex or something.

Saturday Steve had breakfast with our friend John while I made a much needed deposit deposit into the sleep bank. When Steve got home we went to pick up Wendy and Ivy at the vet. Neither of them had given up the goods (urine sample) on Friday so they got to spend the night at Chez Bramer in hopes that time would prove to be their downfall. Wendy uncrossed his furry little legs overnight, but Ivy (stinker) had be ‘expressed’. Fun. I should get the results back today, so keep your fingers crossed that this peeing thing is medical and not mental. I’ll be plenty happy if I have to stop by the vet to pick up a Baytril prescription today. Post pick up I did pretty much absolutely nothing for the rest of the day. I lounged around and read the fifth Harry Potter book which was graciously loaned to me by my neighbors Bernie and Michelle. Later in the afternoon John showed up to borrow our hose to wash his car so we invited him to stay for a BBQ. A nice quiet evening.

More of the same on Sunday. Steve had to go to a memorial service so I stayed at home and watched The Man From Snowy River on AMC. I had forgotten just how snacky Tom Burlinson is. This is so not a movie for guys – it has horses, romance, clichéd bad guys and good guys, and Tom Burlinson. Drool. Now I have to find some way to sneak Return to Snowy River onto my Netflix queue without Steve noticing. Maybe I can get rid of him for an afternoon and I can stay at home and mindlessly watch movies with good looking men: Gladiator (I know Russell Crowe is an asshole – and he’s usually not even hot, but in this movie? Rrrrrowl!), Last of the Mohicans (I prefer Eric Schweig as hunky ethnic sidekick Uncas, but Daniel Day Lewis in buckskin is nothing to sneeze at either), and Return to Snowy River (more Tom Burlinson and much more romance in the sequel). Sigh. That would be a perfect day. Heh. I’m so bad. I just popped over to and bought them all. Naturally because that site is maintained by a bunch of cheapos, none of the movies were in stock, but I did order them. And because I’m no idiot I had them shipped to my work address. Steve doesn’t need to know EVERYTHING now does he? Anyway, after my fill of beautiful vistas, horses and men (man?) I hopped on my bike and rode ten miles to my parent’s house for dinner. Steve met me there with the truck after the service so I wouldn’t have to ride home stuffed to the gills and slightly tipsy on good wine. Mmmmm. Best quote from the dinner goes to my mother. We were discussing potential upcoming vacation plans and I stated that I’d like to go somewhere that doesn’t look like the places I’ve already been – theyre are only so many rococo churches, stately homes, opulent palaces, and European art that you can see without it all starting to blend together. My dad suggested Latvia and Estonia as he felt that they were “Europe untouched.” My mom chimed in with, “thanks but I prefer to go places that have been touched.” Maybe you had to be there or you might have to know my mom, but I practically shot wine out my nose.

Sometimes low-key weekends are the best. However, they usually don’t provide much fodder for an entry, so I’ll sign off before I bore y’all to death.

2:54 p.m. - 2004-06-28


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