I began my Labor Day weekend on Thursday. I stayed home from work while PB worked a half day. Then we headed up to meet some friends for the Jimmy Buffett concert. The show itself was great, better than last year's. But, the police were really hassling us in the parking lot for tailgating. And by "us" I mean "the people parked in our specific lot. And also apparently the handicapped lot. But not all the lots, and certainly not the VIP lot." Look, yes, it is illegal to consume certain beverages in the parking lot. But, don't tell us that you are suddenly enforcing it this year because of an accident last year and then add, "You can still drink inside." Also, if you're going to enforce something, enforce it equally. And know that the people who want to get drunk will still find a way.

There were also checkpoints. We were stopped, but didn't even have to get out of the car. Because, hey, we'd stopped drinking around 7 and it was now midnight. We were sober.

We drove the 2 hours back to Richmond that night, as we both had to work the next day. (I had to go to a meeting for a colleague who'd just had surgery. And that was all I did.) Now, when this first came up, the plan was to stay up in NoVA and leave early in the morning. PB decided we should drive back that night. I generally do not do well with the late night driving. He assured me that he would be fine. Which turned out not to be true. I got us home, thanks to my oh-crap-no-one-else-can-do-this-so-I-have-to mode.

That night, we went to see the Richmond Flying Squirrels play and a friend of ours sing the national anthem. Funniest part of the night: The umpires came out onto the field, and one of PB's co-workers leaned over to me and asked, "Who are the guys in black?"

Baseball game. Squirrels lost. Crazy on-field games. Fireworks.

Saturday, we went kayaking with PB's cousins. As this was my first time out since the surgery, and also since I only have one boat and PB has no boats, we took TRgirl and Randy's tandem kayak. These are also known as "divorce boats". This worked out fine for us, as evidenced by the fact that at one point we were told we were having too much fun. Which, I pointed out, isn't it good when a couple has fun together? Also worked out well because my shoulder did get sore. PB: "That's ok. I owe you." (See above re: driving in the middle of the night.)

We had a quiet Sunday and on Monday drove up to Fredericksburg to meet the friends we'd gone to the concert with, as one had left his wallet in my truck. That's OK, because you know what a day trip to Fredericksburg means? Carl's.

That’s what a friend of mine called a recent situation at the time that it happened. Definition: “It sucks that this is going on, but it’s an opportunity to refocus on the things that really matter in life.” I had trouble seeing that at the time, and for some time afterwards. In fact, this situation is the reason I went back to therapy
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Oddly, once I started therapy this situation had ceased to bother me. I’ve moved on and I do believe this is all for the best. I’m actually happier now that I was when this all started. The people I need in my life are in my life. I’ve lost a lot of friends but I’ve come to see that people who would cut me out of their lives so easily are not friends but merely acquaintances. Acquaintances I spent a lot of time with, but clearly not friends.

I am disappointed that I thought of them as such. I think that when I moved to Richmond I was so focused on making friends and having a support group that I didn’t really think about the people I was choosing. They liked me, they were fun, done. I don’t regret the time I spent with them. I don’t regret anything I did for them during the time I considered us friends; I did what I’d do for any friend, and I’m certainly not going to regret that.

Don’t get me wrong; I played my part in this, and I am chagrined by that. However, what could have been a falling out with one person (with whom I could have remained civil) was blown into a situation involving an entire group of people. Ridiculously.

The thing I am most ashamed of is that when all this went down, I resorted to my default mode, which is, hey, say whatever needs to be said to fix this. And I did. And I lied. It did no good. Could I go back, I would not have lied. The truth, well, it certainly wouldn’t have made things worse. And the lies I told? Embarrassing. For me.

I did learn my lesson from this. Heck, I learned several lessons. And, here, at the end of it all, I’m in a very good place. I’m happy to be here.

Jasper is my sensitive cat, the one most able to pick up on my moods. Or, possibly they both pick up on my moods, but Jasper is the one who cares. If I'm upset, crying or not crying, he's doing what he can, in his little non-lap cat way, to make me feel better.

This weekend, I learned that he does not like when PB and I argue. At all. He started rubbing up against my feet, rubbing up against PB's feet, and then moved on to placing his front paws on the couch and meowing at each of us. He finally resorted to crawling up on the couch in between us an commenced purring. Cats sometimes purr to self-soothe. When we'd resolved the argument, he rubbed up against both of our legs and then went and stretched out on the floor in front of the coffee table, as if to say, "My job here is done."

Tonight PB and I went over to TRgirl and Randy's. We'd both had CPR training at work last week, but workplace CPR did not cover infants. So, we wanted a refresher course on that. Since Randy is a.) a CPR instructor and b.) the father of an infant we could potentially have to save, he agreed to give us one.

We don't just take. We provided pizza for dinner.

When we got there, TRgirl showed us Monkey's homework. (He started preschool last week.) The first question was to list the members of your family. His list? "Mommy, Daddy, Spiderman, Aunt Watergirl, PB, ..."