Old Ways Week

Welcome to Monday, and back to reality. Have you ever had a day that was so unbelievable that you swore that it was a dream? What about a whole weekend that you thought only you and your subconscious had invented?

The weekend really was fantastic and I think that is the major reason why I think that I just dreamed it all. Friday night started with a reunion of sorts. After a four-month hiatus, the Fantastic Four gathered for our infamous Pay Day Dinners (Although I don’t get paid the same weeks as my Chapters acquaintances.)We hit up Osh-o for some Japanese fare. I had never been, and everyone else seemed to have a love of the Pan-Asian cuisine. I really had no idea what I was eating, but for the most part it was pretty good.

It is just so funny how much my generation loves international food. We eat Naan bread at the house all of the time, hit up the local Vietnamese restaurant often, talk about going to the Ethiopian restaurant, and even suggest making curry for everyone. It seems as if it really is a small world after all, well as far as food is concerned.

Saturday started with a funny family trip to Taber. (Although all without seeing “The Girl”. Isn’t that the only reason to go?) My grandparents lived in Taber while I was growing up and we spent many, many weekends there. Taber always seems to be the town that time forgot, even though it might now have a Wal-Mart (what town doesn’t?) the downtown seemed just as lame as always and the old IGA just reminded me of Saturday mornings spent with my grandpa.

On Saturday night, we had a Girls’ Night In, complete with Will Ferrell and too many fuzzy peaches. Sometimes there really is nothing better than to just be with the ladies discussing all of the finer points of life like P-Ball and Dutch suitors, all complete, of course, with reenactments. Saturday sadly came to an end, as did any subsequent communication with my former Internet Boyfriend, as he openly admitted that he didn’t know who The Beatles were.

But Sunday had to be the most unbelievable of the all. With probably still a lot of sugar in me from the night before, and a plethora stories to tell, I went to church only to run into a total blast from our past JTW. After being completely MIA for eleven months, I was able to get a phone number from him and we arranged to hang out later that night.

Now, I am not making this up. I really did have a conversation with him, and I really did talk on the phone twice with him, but somehow it still kinda seems as if I just imagined the whole thing. Like Ted on How I Met Your Mother, I arranged a gathering, just for him. And he never showed up.

During our phone conversation, he seemed excited to come over, and got our address again. But I don’t know what happened. Not overly surprised to be stood up by a boy, I wonder, is cageyness just the new calling card of our generation? Are we incapable of making firm plans? Do we all suffer from a fear of commitment?

JTW may have been the final straw and most of us went to bed deflated and depressed. And really knowing, that no matter what we say or do, we can’t change this new trend of flakiness that has emerged. To all of the boys that read this from ladies around the world: Please, please put down your purse, and just step it up, if only for a minute.

A thank you to our gang of friends who did make Sunday nigh at least enjoyable. Why did we eat so many fuzzy peaches?

Here’s hoping that next weekend brings us just as much joy, although not as much oddness.

Have a good week, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

Good luck to the EAG.

Keep doing what you’re doing.

Lots of love.