September 20, 2010

The sport for white men dressed like black pimps

Why do weekends never feel long enough? I don't think I have ever come back to work on a Monday thinking, "wow - I am so incredibly satisfied with that short respite from my daily routine...I definitely don't need another day." Newsflash, folks - I can ALWAYS use another day.

Friday night, we kicked the weekend off right with some junk food and beer at Buffalo Wild Wings with bff Sarah and her husband, Dustin. One of our biggest complaints about the area where we live is that so few of the restaurants have patios. Granted, it's pretty uncomfortable outside in Houston for a few months out of the year and you can bet you'll not find me anywhere not totally chilly via strong strong AC during the month of August, but now that it's started to get a little cooler at night, a patio with a drink and some friends is the place to be. The B'dubs by the house just unveiled their - wait for it.... - brand new patio!, so up to sit on it we went. Saul had to coach a CC meet Saturday morning, so we were home and passed out before midnight.

Saturday while Saul coached, I watched a lot of really terrible TV, and it was fantastic. I cleaned up the house a bit and when Saul got home, we met up with other bff Chandra and her man, Kevin, at the driving range. Y'all, I hit golf balls! And hoo-boy, am I feeling it. I basically did a squat and then rotated the entire top half of my body over and over again for a half an hour. I am totally hooked. I'd never swung a golf club, save for on the putt-putt course and oh my god, I get it now. I never understood the appeal of golf, but connecting and smacking the shit out of that tiny-ass ball and then watching it fly is sooo satisfying. And both Saul and I are competitive as hell, so I am curious to see where my new-found love for this hobby of his takes us...

Yesterday I went and was the supportive wife, sitting on the sidelines of Saul's club soccer game. He and a friend put together a team (The Kickmasters...heh) that includes a lot of guys they've played with since they were in high school. The team is really good - for a bunch of (usually hungover) 30-somethings - and I love to watch him play. When he scores goals he says they're dedicated to me and I get all school-girl giddy and ask him if I can wear his letter jacket ;)

After the game we went to my parent's house and had steaks with a parmesan cheese and the best balsamic vinegar topping EVER, and listened as they talked about their recent Italy trip. I am so happy that my parents are able to take trips like that - even though it makes me crazy envious to hear about them - and the fact that they bring home wine and legit olive oil and balsamic vinegar (from the Tuscany region of the country, no less) for us as gifts makes it that much sweeter.

We also drank A LOT of wine with my mom and dad yesterday, so my Monday morning sucked major balls. I am drinking water like crazy and still don't feel 100%.

Damn you, lazy Sundays.

**Title of post is from a quote by Tiger Woods. He might be a cheaty-cheater, and usually I would prefer to watch ice melt over him giving an interview, but this made me chuckle.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hi, good post. I have been pondering this topic,so thanks for sharing. I’ll likely be coming back to your posts. Keep up the good work

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