My cousin’s girlfriend took 100 pictures at my birthday party.
Of everything. People. The cake. The view from the upstairs room at the restaurant. We got to the race track and she even took pictures of the monitor displaying the jockey and horse stats. Q and I suspect she has a blog, but we didn’t want to ask her.
On the flip, Q and I probably took seven pics, none of us together. And we forgot the camera in the car before riding to the race park with my brother in his behemoth SUV. So we gots nothin’ to show you from the birthday weekend. Damn: I just remembered I could have at least taken a quick shot of the shoes (of course) that Q gave me as part of my birthday loot. I wore them all weekend. They are my very first pair of running shoes (cross-trainers?) that you might see in a current fashion magazine. I’ll add a picture of them to this post when I get home.
Q is driving back to North Texas as I write this. I miss him already. My plan was to win $300,000 or so at the track, giving each of us a year to find a new job while bankrolling his move to Houston. We won $200. Crazy kids that we are, we’re both making bank deposits this afternoon and going back to work.
The switch to daylight savings time kicked our butts, and we are barely conscious after a weekend filled with activity. Luckily, the main software that I use for all my projects needs to be reinstalled and I get a nap break while waiting on desktop support to bring the program disks. I need a sign that says: not blogging, waiting on desktop support. And napping.
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