Don't Stop Believing...in Santa
This weekend started early and ended late. Wednesday I went back East for the holiday. I kept up my pre-Turkey Day tradition of rocking out to my best friend's dad's band at a local fire hall.
Our pals shared some pitchers and worked up a sweat groovin' and movin' to the oldies. I perfected my signature rocker hair flip move and my air guitar "Don't Stop Believing" riff.
I was fascinated by the fact that the guys in our group were nowhere to be found when "I Will Survive" came on, but were singing along when the band broke into "Since You've Been Gone." Aren't they essentially the same song for different generations? Do guys relate better to Kelly Clarkson?
You go, girl
Thursday I got my tired butt out of bed to watch Philadelphia's Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV. It isn't the holidays until Santa pulls a Rocky and runs up the Art Museum steps. Thanksgiving Day was spent at my aunts watching football, stuffing my face with sweet potato casserole and playing old-school KerPlunk with my little cousins. I never learned how to pull the right straws.
Things I'm not good at
I headed back East for the rest of the weekend after work on Friday. I took time to enjoy the comforts of home, including leftovers, lemon tarts and Comcast On Demand. I had plenty of time to catch up on my reading (finished the "Twilight" sequel "New Moon"), movie watching (finally saw "Iron Man") and TV shows (caught up on this season of "Entourage"). Saturday was spent hunting for the family Christmas tree at a local farm and then hitting up the old W.V.C.C. for some supper.
I headed back to York feeling full and festive with only minor dread of the baking, buying, wrapping, etc. that lies ahead.
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