Dear Bloggery (Diary)….

Victor, this is the internet. This is a blog. You’re sposedta try to entertain here, not keepa GD (gosh darn) ‘record’ of your life.

Ahm, as we’ve discussed before – a blog is just that, whateverinthehell one wants it to be. So there. Nanny nanny boo boo..

Dear Victor. This morning you read the KC Star (yes, smoked too gosh darn many cigs, drank too many cuppa coffees) and u actually knew two people in the obits. Sad. Bummer.

And.. you’re sitting here at work.. yes, it’s Sunday – but I was enroute home and either Maynard or “free agent” (Maynard’s buddy who ain’t gots no money or home, thus, he is temporarily planting his butt on our sofa.. month #5) messed up the computer – so I’m here to write (‘record’), not to work.

I’m at work and I lookup… there’s a nifty big calendar on the wall for 2008. It’s mebbe two feet by three feet. Behind it, there’s one for 2007, and behind that, one for 2006, and etc.

What do those years mean? Whatthehell happened during them? Should there be any particular dates I should remember?

So there, creepola who said “you must entertain” – I scoff and say “I’m gonna write, record” because I did have a special day – and when the 2008 calendar is hidden somewhere under the 2012 calendar (the Good Lord willing) – I will remember because I blogged about it. So there. So nanny nanny boo boo.

Friend at work. Married last night. Great gal, hearta gold. Two former coworkers, both late 20’s, whyinthehell they’ve befriended an old fart like me I ain’t gots no clue, but they have - and I’m very thankful.

Wedding. Gorgeous. Bride/Groom, gorgeous/handsome. In love, more important. Flower girl, younger model spittin’ image of mom/the bride. Wonderful smalltown ceremony – the only glitch – the preacher (his first ever wedding) forgot to tell us to sit back down after the bride came down the aisle. I’m old, wanted to sit – still, wonderful ceremony.

After. The VFW. Yes, the VFW. Entire Hall to ourselves. Mebbe a hundred folks. All happy. His friends/relatives, her friends/relatives – there to mold together becoming ‘their’ friends/relatives.

Co-workers young daughter, mebbe all of four. Stole the show. A dancing fool. My buddy Kendra was her primary partner. Kendra, like me, partnerless – would surely enjoy toetapping with some hunk – but the huge heart pointed her to be little Breanna’s dance partner. It did a heart good to watch them.

Drinks. Food. S’more drinks. S’more food. To the bar, just down the road – me, and my two 20-something buddies. Back ‘home’, first by the VFW to grab what remained of the 2nd keg, then to 20-something’s house. Party. Victor? Wasn’t this the night you watched Missouri kick Nebraska’s ass too? Yes, thanks for reminding me, it was.

Long about midnight, I was all pleasured out. From 3pm until midnight – I had smiles. Tons. Cigs, beers, prolly too many – but the pace was so it was all good – and I wasn’t a blithering idiot.

I crashed. We talked about the young ones – how they “Go go go” until they can’t go any more for the day – and they crash… that was me. I, for once, was my sister. She got more outta life in one day than anyone I’ve ever known. I had me onea them days.

I think it’d be nifty if mebbe u kept some kinda record of your life as u go along. I have read my mother’s writing from her life. Father’s too. It’s a blessing to me somewhere along the way they stopped to give us reminders of exactly what was on those calendars that hang from the wall. Precious.

Bloggery. Diary. Good times, great friends, awesome wedding, even better day/night.

Farm out. Love, Victurd