I'm not ignoring you, I promise.  But suddenly, there's this guy named Figaro who has appeared to take over my life.  Not that I'm really complaining, because he's a nice guy and all, but I miss my other guys.  Like Alexender Belov (if you can figure out who that is, you are my new best friend.)

But, guys, I came down with a mean case of the Mean Reds Tuesday afternoon.  It was bad.  I cried in semi-public.  By semi-public, I mean, someone could've walked in on me, but didn't (whoo - wipe the sweat of my brow) - I don't like to be seen crying - I'll admit that.  It bothers me.  I couldn't even tell you why I was crying.  And it wasn't really crying, just that choking sobs, with the occasional tear.

But then something wonderful happened.  I went grocery shopping at Aldi's.  And, unfortunately, the quarter I typically keep in my car for shopping trips to Aldi's had been spent on a semi-spontaneous trip to Sushi Boat down on Oakland Avenue (if you haven't been there, go.  Love their Philly rolls.  Actually, I love anyone's Philly rolls - haven't met one I don't like.  But I digress..).  So I debate walking somewhere and getting change for the dollar in my purse or driving home for a quarter.  But then I decided to walk up to the women unload her buggy and ask if she had change.  And she just gave me the cart.  It's a quarter, but still, it's a really generous thing, in my opinion, to do.  You go to Giant Eagle and over the cart to someone and they look at you like you have a disease.  Multiple times at Aldi's, this has happened to me. 

But I decided to pay it forward.  When I was checking out, I was unloading and a lady steps behind me.  She has two items; I have 20.  I let her in front of me and she says, "Oh, thank you.  I've had such a bad day; thank you for the gesture," or something to that affect.

And I could totally relate.  If that nice lady hadn't given me her buggy in the parking lot, I'd probably still be here in my living grumbling about having to sew these damn capes because it's kind of frustrating working with the material.  But I'm okay with it for now (because after all, how can working with any kind of fabric after 9p be anything BUT frustrating).

But for now, I'm going to go visit with Mr. Belov for a while and then fall asleep. 

And as Anne always says, "Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes.  Isn't that a nice thought Marilla?"

I have had quite the weekend.  No lie.

Friday night, I went to see Jekyll and Hyde downtown.  Both C and I agree it was one of the best shows we've seen.  If you can see this show live, do it, but I don't know that it will compare with the one I saw.  It was incredible, amazing, insanely good, and any other word that the Thesaurus has to go with incredible.

However, getting there was a trip.  Literally.  I got a flat tire.  No big deal, I've done that before.  I'm an old pro at it - I know to have my emergency brake on when the mechanics get there so they don't get their hand flattened by my gas guzzling Jose (that's right, my car's name is Jose Durango.  My mom named him.  I was originally going to him Connie, but Jose's a boy, not a girl.).  I know that there's no reason to panic - it's a flat tire.  However, when the mechanic pulls out the object that flattened your tire and says, "Holy crap - let me get my phone so I can take a picture of that," it's a weird night.  No lie.  See for yourself on the left.

Saturday, early morning, I went to the flea market with some friends for The Marriage of Figaro props.  It took much longer then we thought, but it was so worth it.  We got so much cool stuff.  I then had to go on to a work event, where I ate more Eat n' Park mini cookies then I should have.  Then back on to my house for fifteen minutes before driving to my aunt's apartment (where I had already spent the previous night) for my younger brother's birthday dinner.  My little brother turned 21 yesterday - though he isn't quite so little.  We always joke that I'm the short one in the family.  And at 5'7", unfortunately, it's true.  Sad, but true.

I woke up for church this morning, exhausted.  I really didn't even make an effort to get ready.  But I'm glad I went.  I always feel a little bit more peaceful throughout the week when I go to church on Sunday.  I've gone two or three weeks without going and it just ruffles my feathers.  I like my church, I like that Sylvia and Jerry have taken me under their wings, always introducing me to people.  I joke that she's my sponsor, which isn't too far from the truth probably.

But now, I'm just slowly getting my energy back.  I will partake in a late afternoon shower, which in my opinion, are the best.  You feel like you're accomplishing something, but it's also a deliciously lazy, indulgent thing to do, taking a shower in the afternoon.  Or anytime later than you really would have.  Then I might scrapbook sometime this afternoon.  The last thing I scrapbooked was my trip to London in May of 2009 - I'm so behind.  Or I might finish taping up the cuts for Figaro.  Or I might just decide to curl up in my reading corner and read a book. 

How was your weekend?