Boys
I realized this weekend that either my social skills are deteriorating or I need to find girlfriends around here.
Or both.
Stevie, The Boy’s best friend, came to visit this weekend. Frankly, I really like Stevie - he’s my favorite of The Boy’s friends, he’s a lot of fun and really nice, and he’s a chatterbox (much like yours truly). You can never be bored with Stevie around - if all else fails, he’s got lots of stories to tell about his female predicaments (he has the second most interesting love life of anyone I know since he tends to fall for two girls at once…A, of course, possessing the first most interesting). We get along quite well. And okay, let’s be honest - without Stevie, The Boy would still be too shy to ask me out.
So this visit was much-anticipated. I’ve especially been looking forward to taking someone from home on a tour of Crackerbarrelville.
Except, of course, I had forgotten that this was Boy Weekend.
I found Boy Weekend a little overwhelming. There was college basketball. Then more college basketball (I went running). Then pepperoni pizza (I picked off the pepperoni) and more college basketball. Then tennis (I finally beat The Boy). Then barbeque and ribs while watching college basketball at a restaurant (I ordered shrimp and vegetables). Then the next day, golf (I went to church), then college basketball (I read and did my hair). A trip to the Parthenon. Then rushing home to catch the special Selection Show about - what else? - college basketball (I watched for five minutes with my Maryland shirt on, sighed, then changed out of it. Stupid Maryland). I knew I had reached my limit when I could start commenting on the skill of teams that were included in the bracket. Shoot, I’m impressed with myself when I know what a bracket is.
(In case you’re curious, I have Duke, Tennessee, somebody else, and somebody else picked for the final four. I have Duke winning by one point because I secretly want Tennessee to win so everyone around here will be in a good mood but am trying to be realistic.)
(Yes, I have Duke winning.)
(Stupid Maryland.)
So, after hours of college basketball, I was in the mood for something else. Unfortunately, I was outnumbered two to one in my view that the Style network’s March Fabness is "essentially the same thing."
If I don’t find some girls to hang out with by the World Series, I’m in trouble. There’s only so much shoe shopping one can do by oneself.
