On Friday, an hour before quitting time I was informed that I'd be "on standby" on Saturday, and might have to go into work for "a couple of hours". Saying no would've only screwed over one of my cow-orkers, so I agreed.
Friday night
The Smoosh slept together Friday night, and Saturday morning I got the inevitable phone call to go into work. Suck. On the plus side, there were only a few people there (all of whom I get along with), the work wasn't too bad, and I was out after 4 hours.
Saturday night we all went to a party at some friends' house. Much noshing and libations and hanging out with friends.
Sunday started out nice and lazy as Sundays should. Much Smooshness and being together, with some GTA Vice City thrown in. The rest of the Smoosh then went to eat and such, while I went with
Keirston and I hadn't directly spoken with each other since she moved out last year, and our last conversations had been decidedly hostile. Seeing her there freaked me out a bit, but I didn't want to pass up the opportunity to make some kind of contact. We ended up having a very pleasant conversation, got caught up some (she's not moving to Orlando after all), and I took a few pics of her new tattoos. We hugged a couple of times, and I'm very happy to officially be on good terms with her. Life is too short to be ruled by trauma, and too long to leave wounds unhealed.
After the concert