Those Sneaky Saturdays...

Yesterday was a whirlwind of a Saturday, of which I am still coming down from. It's one of those days that no fancy granola can give me the "lift" I need to function adequately with society the day after. Quick recap:  

By 8:45 a.m., my roommate and I were out the door and retirement-community bound. If it wasn't for the desert detours, our normally 30 minute drive wouldn't have taken over an hour. But, as it would be, it did. 

So, in we walked to our old home in Sun City at 10:00 a.m. to find the familiar faces of Grandma Marian, Meri and Linda (mom) - all members of the Orseth/Pirkl clan. It was only six months ago that we spent each night for the better part of six months in this place, and yet it felt like a very strange and unfamiliar place. 

New appliances replaced the familiar vintage ones. The sun room that once served as Kate and I's room, was completely different. The air that had once filled that home - of hope, sadness and dire exhaustion, was completely gone. And of course, there were three important additions that were now absent, only one of which, can ever be brought back. What was left of that place, I didn't really recognize. 

Nonetheless, we managed to enjoy a home-cooked lunch, nearly finish Friday's crossword and trim (with oversized trimmers. Think Edward Scissorhands) the overgrown red flower bush in Grandma Marian's back yard. Mexican worker-esque and all, the job got done. 

Shortly after eating turtle ice-cream (which I only observed and did not partake in) and seeing the time tick past 3:00 p.m., the whole crew sans G-Ma departed our beloved retirement community, and headed back to town to get ready for a Diamondbacks game.    

The Diamondbacks played the Colorado Rockies. Things I forget I love about major league baseball games: huge beers, singing in unison for your team, doing the wave, and in general - acting like an idiot and cheering for players you just discovered via the free postcards given to us upon entering the stadium. The only thing that proved negative at the game was getting called a Sarah Palin look-alike, at which point, I promptly removed my glasses and watched the remainder of the game in a blur. 

The Diamondbacks ended up beating those Rockies--and we celebrated all the way to Oreganos for dinner. At which point, we talked about moving in with boyfriends, post-graduate test scores and I enjoyed two whole beers. 

By the time we got home, it was nearly 11:00 p.m. and we all piled in Kate's freakishly-comfortable bed, and talked for a bit.  In true Rebekah form, I snuck off without telling anyone and jumped into bed. I was quite drunk at that point, and luckily, falling asleep was not an issue. Within nearly 15 seconds of curling up in bed, I was out. Saturday - gone. 

And so, before I can say "onomatopoeia," the weekend seems to have slipped past me like the sneaky bastard that it is. Here it is, Sunday afternoon. And I don't know of almost anything that goes quicker than a Sunday afternoon.  

But - I refuse to waste it. Still to come : Desperate Housewives season premiere, therapy cleaning of the apartment, a shower, some sort of beverage (or two) and insightful conversation with whomever will listen. 

Playing in my head - Cat Power "Living Proof"