Tonight my father and I shared our 60th and 27th birthday party at the house. Carla and Tom Campbell were there as were Shannon and Gerald Small and the boys. Emily drove up and Ben Leimkuhler joined us too - and of course, my grandparents. We grilled out, but to mother's dismay (read anger) no one sat outside on the patio amongst the fruits of her gardening labor, for rain, thunder and lightening crashed down on us about half an hour before dinner.
I admit, it feels good to be in St Joseph, although for the first time in all my adult visits, I find myself longing to be around people my own age. I guess that's why I called Ben to invite him over at last minute. I realized most all my friends in St Jo were in their fifties or older! Normally, this doesn't bother me. I love my older friends - they're very cool, but for some reason, I'm feeling estranged. Last night I even called over to the Nelson's just to see if any of their kids (my surgate siblings) were by chance in town. They weren't.
So I watched Team America: World Police with my mom. That might have been a mistake. Holy cow. Who wants to watch puppets have sex? Please. I appreciated the satire and the catchy tunes ("Team America **** yeah"), but I could have done without the extensive vulgarity. I recognize that had I seen this movie without my mother, and say, with Lance, Josie or Phil instead, I perhaps would have been more entertained. Instead, mother and I just kept exchanging mortified glances. Oh well. Tonight brought Spanglish and some serious tears, and the night before last was Vanity Fair. I bet tomorrow and Thursday hold Phantom and Connie and Carla as dad and I both now have these two flics in our possession.
Anyway, if you're under 35 and in St Jo Mo at some point in the next 13 days, feel free to give me a call. I'm feeling restless and trying to put my life together. If I move back to the area (remember, I'm unemployed again and homeless come August), I want to know what's in store for me.
Other than screening movies for my parents.