Sandbar for a complementary birthday dinner. I got to get dolled up, he picked me up, and we sat on the patio eating delicious tostadas and flautas and chips and salsa and a margarita for me. The food was great, the atmosphere was nice, we were served by a friend of a friend, and all of our stuff ended up coming to a bill of $3.80! Ryan and I also got to finally talk about what is going to happen in four weeks when his lease is up and I go one way and he goes another. It was sobering, really, but good at the same time because while we have been on the same page this entire time, the impending day is weird to acknowledge. Necessary, though!
DAY 7 (not really 7th day): August 2nd: CHICKEN MISSION!
This day started a bit hungover and gross. You know that feeling that you're just not clean; the feeling that you have your contacts in still, but they're not in; that you have to wash your hair or brush your teeth or take a shower in general just to get some of the grime off your face along with some of the beer sweat? Yeah, that's how I woke up. I ate crap for breakfast (read: sourdough toast with cheddar cheese and raisin bran along with a bite of chili) which made me feel even more disgusting.
Dave decided he wanted to get chickens and set up a chicken coop in the backyard so they could lay eggs. Barry searched on Craigslist for chickens, and what do you know?! TWO FREE CHICKENS! Dave called the number and due to probable hunger suspicion, his number was blacklisted, so I called and they immediately complied. As Dave went to the store to buy preparatory fencing and wood chips and food, Ryan and I went to Carl's Jr. off of La Cumbre to retrieve the (huge) chickens in a laundry hamper covered by a towel. I named them Gipetto Trapezius and Zeus, or G.T. and Z., in the back seat of Ryan's car. I don't know what the boys want to name them, but those are their names in my book. The best, and most unforeseen part of today was the chicken mission.
DAY 7 (not really 7th day): August 2nd: CHICKEN MISSION!
This day started a bit hungover and gross. You know that feeling that you're just not clean; the feeling that you have your contacts in still, but they're not in; that you have to wash your hair or brush your teeth or take a shower in general just to get some of the grime off your face along with some of the beer sweat? Yeah, that's how I woke up. I ate crap for breakfast (read: sourdough toast with cheddar cheese and raisin bran along with a bite of chili) which made me feel even more disgusting.
Dave decided he wanted to get chickens and set up a chicken coop in the backyard so they could lay eggs. Barry searched on Craigslist for chickens, and what do you know?! TWO FREE CHICKENS! Dave called the number and due to probable hunger suspicion, his number was blacklisted, so I called and they immediately complied. As Dave went to the store to buy preparatory fencing and wood chips and food, Ryan and I went to Carl's Jr. off of La Cumbre to retrieve the (huge) chickens in a laundry hamper covered by a towel. I named them Gipetto Trapezius and Zeus, or G.T. and Z., in the back seat of Ryan's car. I don't know what the boys want to name them, but those are their names in my book. The best, and most unforeseen part of today was the chicken mission.
