That itself was a tad annoying. We got our June days off list at the start of the month, and I realized I had a two-day weekend during the last week, with ran into July. My days off fell on July 2-3, which would have been really cool IF I had my passport back. I could have gone somewhere, but since I wasn’t in possession of it, nothing was in the cards.
So I had a nice Saturday, doing pretty much absolutely nothing except this:
(Photo of Gracie Bulldog courtesy of Wendy. I love that dog. Do not tell Kocur.)
My Saturday goal, though, had been to finish my scrapbooking, which I’ve been doing online lately. It’s not the greatest creative outlet, but it’s possible to get it done remotely, which is kind of key when you’re half a world away.
I didn’t want to not meet my goal, so I started doing my “Westward Ho” scrapbook (from Laramie River Ranch to Denver, St. George and eventually Palm Springs) at 11 p.m.
I finished at 2 a.m., so I wound up sleeping late on Sunday. Woke up at 11, checked my email and went to the fitness center.
There, I have started a trend, I think. It’s been *far* more busy lately. Today, for example, five people went in and out in the hour and a half I was in there.
Someone who is shorter than me comes in and uses the bike after me and leaves nasty sweat drops all over it. Disgusting. Other people, such as the ones who came in today, leave the door wide open even though the AC is blasting. I just don’t get it.
Anyway, back to July 3 – I did my little routine and then went back to my hotel room-sized apartment and logged on again. Had a note saying “Sorry for the late notice, but your regular day off is tomorrow.”
So, a day and a half into it, I found out I had a three-day weekend. Drat.
At that point, there was just no way I was going to do anything like go out of town, so my big thing was Skyping a friend for three hours.
However, I decided to go ahead and do the American thing and get a burger, fries and a Coke at Wendy’s.
Yes, I have a Wendy’s. If I exit my apartment and turn left, there is a huge compound across the street named, eerily enough, the World Trade Center. I go through that complex, turn right and it’s there in some building.
As to which building it was in, I had no idea. The way it’s set up here is odd to me. You have McDs and KFCs, but they’re not freestanding necessarily. (I haven’t seen a freestanding one, anyway). They’re hidden in office or apartment buildings.
In Wendy’s case, it’s in the basement of a bank building. I wasn’t sure which bank building, as the sign is smack dab between two of them, but I took a chance and went in the right one.
Another aside: you don’t just wander into any buildings here. You ALWAYS go through security, whether it’s your own apartment and they just wave, the mall and get wanded down or other places where you walk through a metal detector.
But no one questions as to why you’re entering such-and-such building. You just get checked extremely briefly and walk on in.
The Wendy’s was in the basement of this particular building, and I found it pretty much right off and went through an additional metal detector down between the convenience story and the fast-food place.
Ah, it was such an American-type fast foot place, and not even five minutes from my house. I got there quicker than we get to Granny’s in Havana!
I noted I can get a Frosty, and they have chicken noodle soup, which is good to know. Also baked potatoes, which I crave – but those seemed a bit pricey in comparison.
But I ordered my No. 1 combo and waited on it a bit. I have to say, even sitting there, I realized how badly I was craving an American burger and sat there wondering if it could live up to my expectations.
It’s not inappropriate to use the word “lust” to describe how I was feeling for that burger. I even thought “Man, I am setting myself up for disappointment here” and laughed at myself for looking *so* forward to it.
But you know what? It lived up to my expectation. Fabulous burger, nice salty fries and a fountain Coke with *ice cubes*. I am not sure it can get better, honestly.
The rest of my Fourth weekend was quite boring. There’s no way I can sit out three days again, but I amused myself with YouTube.
From there, I’ve been stalking the writings of Scotty Emerick, who is the guy who wrote most of the good stuff that Toby Keith’s done. Apparently he’s done more than that (Emerick, not Keith) and is sort of a beachy country writer, which I like.
So I spent the better part of the Fourth watching several videos repeatedly. The most fun one is here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jhTweJ3mDKs
In this case, it’s not Emerick singing it but Billy Currington. Apparently it’s on a CD of his, but it’s on the Currington CD I own, which is sad because I adore the song.
The gist of the song is basically that dogs are superior to dates and why. The video isn’t official; it’s just some guy who’s pulled random photos off the Internet in a slideshow. The lyrics alone crack me up but the photos whoever it was pulled down are just hysterical.
Three favorites:
The “I iz trin 2 explod ur hed wit mai brain” Chihuahua at the “he don’t look at me like he hates me” line, the growly pup on the “when I say her sister is a bitch” line but my absolute favorite is the “he don’t play dead when I try to pet him” puppy. It’s at the 1:20 mark and I cannot get through the video without cracking up.
It’s not Emerick’s best song, I suppose – there are much “deeper” ones out there – but man, I absolutely love that one.
Billy Currington reminds me of a hockey player, but I can’t pin down which one.
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