Breather.

A quick recap of the past several days:
Tuesday night we went to a late showing of Iron Man. It was fucking fantastic and may be the first movie I sit through twice in the theater since the first X-Men. No spoilers here, though. No details at all really. If you like big cool superhero movies then just go.
Wednesday I went to work at the bar at 1pm. I signed checks and stocked beer and liquor and made store lists. It was an especially busy day because this weekend was graduation at UGA, and we knew we would be slammed. I was just finishing up when I got a call from Jamie, who was coming into town to deliver some eggs from her farm. We hadn't seen each other in a bit and were planning on going for a cup of coffee while I waited for the b.h. to finish work. In the meantime I had also heard from my good friend K, who was in town from New York unexpectedly. So while I waited for Jamie to come in I went and picked K up and came back to the bar. When Jamie arrived we all went to the new Vietnamese restaurant on Baxter street, where Jamie ate and K and I had tasty Vietnamese coffee and K ogled the waiters. We chatted and caught up and cracked jokes and had a great time. This lasted about an hour, and then K had to take off and Jamie and I went back to the bar. I picked up the b.h. and Jamie left to go to the store. The plan was we'd meet her back at our house.
I got home and watered the yard and waited for Jamie, sipping a Schweppes B1tter Lemon (my new favorite beverage) and reading the new Vanity Fair. Jamie arrived (with Newman O's cookies- yay!) and we sat around and caught up for a couple hours before it was time to get back downtown. She went to see Iron Man (at my behest, though it didn't take much convincing) and I went to see J. Roddy Walston and the Business tear the fucking roof off of Tasty World. The Help opened the show, and they sounded better than I ever remember them sounding. The whole two guitar thing is really paying off for them. Turns out it was a good thing that Richard hated law school. They were on fire.
Jackpot City was up next. No one seems to be able to give me a good reason why they don't have a fucking record out. I haven't seen them in at least a couple of years (seems like I'm always stuck at work when they play), and I was really happy to be there. My girl crush on Kelly N00nan is still burning, and I learned that night that I'm not the only one who feels that way. (Thanks, B. I feel so much better now). For the love of god somebody please give these guys some money. The world will be a better place with a Jackpot City record in it.
After that J. Roddy and the Business played. It was as awesome as ever. Word is finally out, too, so the place was pretty full. I was standing up on a bench against the wall, pumping my fist in the air and screaming and totally losing my shit. It felt great. I know those guys are going to explode soon, so I'm trying to soak up the intimacy as much as possible for now. They played a killer cover of "Fat Bottom Girls" by Queen. People went crazy. I can't wait to see them again.
After the show, Zack and I stopped at the grocery store to pick up some pizzas while the b.h. rode home with the band (so they wouldn't get lost). We ate and drank and talked until way too late. It was great.
I woke up at nine-thirty on Thursday morning, watered the garden, and headed to the dreaded S(h)am's Club to buy stuff for the bar. The b.h. was awake when I got back. We made coffee and left a note for the band and headed out.
We left the house around eleven, and went to Manning Br0thers to pick up some glassware and other extras for the bar. Then we went to the bar to drop off that stuff and the Sam's stuff, and then I went to work at the B.S. Squared. I had slept around four hours, so I told Grandma first thing that I was in no condition to do any thinking, asking instead that she simply point and tell me what she wanted where. This seemed to suit her just fine, so I kept up the comedy routine and we got along fine for the most part. I avoided the "I told my son not to bother to learn to speak Spanish because people need to learn to speak English if they want to live here" argument by simply saying that it wasn't political for me and that I believed that learning Spanish was the practical thing to do and that it had served me well ever since high school. She didn't like that, but nothing could ruin my mood after the previous night's festivities and I simply refused to argue.
Stupid Redneck Sarah, in the meantime, decided that it would be a good idea to imitate and make fun of the black woman who had asked her where the "popcorn bushes" (viburnum, which most people refer to as snowball bushes) were. She did this at top volume, cackling with laughter each time, and she did it right in front of several other customers. I stared at her in total disbelief, praying that at least one of the people within earshot would complain to management. I am officially done even trying to be nice to her, instead openly referring to her as Surly the Watering Dwarf (because Stupid Racist Redneck would get me fired), and expressing my distaste for her to Barb at every turn. We got a really big delivery just before five, when Grandma was getting ready to leave. Luckily for me E called to see if we needed any extra help and she was there within half an hour to help me.
Because I hadn't gotten there until after noon, I worked at the B.S. Squared until almost nine, at which point Barb and I were in a conversation about lawn mowers. I had been shopping for one earlier, because ours pooped out and the grass (I use that word loosely with regard to our yard) is almost up to my waist. It turned out that there were a few in the back at the B.S. Squared that had been repaired and therefore would not be sold at full price. Thirty minutes later I was loading my new John Deere into the back of E's SUV. I finally picked the b.h. up at nine-thirty at Flicker, and we headed home. E dropped off the lawn mower, I ate a quick dinner, jumped in the shower, and passed out by eleven thirty.
Whew! I'm tired just from writing all that. And the b.h. just pulled some cornbread out of the oven, so I'm off to eat dinner. More on my marathon week later.