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Wine and knocked up girls.

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Hawk 34

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Grace is doing pretty good and has adjusted to being home again and back to her usual routine despite the hindrance of the cone/funnel contraption to prevent her from tending to the wound that is still pretty deep and probably won’t fully heal for awhile.

 

 

Saturday afternoon/evening, I went with Allison to a birthday party for one of her cousins. Generally, she doesn’t care about any of her family members and wouldn’t make the effort to even attend a cousin’s 25th birthday party. However, it just so happened that this cousin is the only family member that is close with enough to actually care about their birthday. Because of my apparent requirements in my role, I had to attend this party. The dinner took place at this vineyard steak house that actually wasn’t too far from me but this was one of those places that charged $35(single) for a lousy steak and bottle of home-grown and supposedly great quality wine.

 

What made it even more preposterous was that you grilled the steak yourself on an enclosed patio (which sounds nice in the summer, but not with 40 degree weather). The idea was that you prepare and cook the steak to your liking. Sorry, but I’m fine with trusting the allegedly trained chefs doing the hard-work.

 

While I didn’t care for the price of the meal all that much and of course, I covered her as well. (I’m 95% certain, that I only landed this because I actually saved my money unlike most 20 year old college kids in addition to being handy in most situations. I figure this is what most marriages are founded on, so I imagine I have no choice but to just embrace this) I enjoyed the meal and we received a complimentary reservation from some girl (whom I believe was a friend of the guest of honor) who has a “cozy” bed and breakfast upstate and I got confirmation from others at the party that this isn’t a dump and is a rather pleasant B&B. Maybe I’m showing signs of being frugal again but I’m not getting the concept of driving 3-4 hours to spend the night in a glorified hotel with a cutesy breakfast diner. I mean, yeah, it’s just an romantic way of fucking but I don’t get the point of the effort. (The bed and breakfast, I mean). Anyways, I’m sure I’ll be dragged to this soon enough. Just shut my mouth and do what Im told.

 

Here’s the problem with dating someone else when it’s still young, learning all these people’s names and bothering to care about their existence. According to my father, he dated my mother forever and even years into their marriage, he never bothered to really learn everyone in her family's name and I say kudos to him in this regard but everyone is so goddamn sensitive in her family that one wrong name will upset the balance of their lives. I had uncles that called me “Junior” or “Kid” for years because they never cared to learn my actual name and I’m cool with that.

 

When we first started, I figured she was exaggerating how pretentious her family was but if anything, she undersold them as I’m learning along the way. I don’t like these people. Not in that “they make me nervous because I know they know that I’m banging their grand-child/niece/daughter” sense but rather a genuine dislike of them. My family, well, my parents at least (since she hasn’t met the extended family) really like her and that’s great because she adores my mother and they get along great together. I should be happy about this but if anything, I’m cautious now.

 

After the dinner concluded and we all made our separate ways, I said goodbye to her as she headed to work, I went down to my office to pick up some stuff that I left there and I found one of the guys in the shop doing a side job. This wasn’t a big deal, side-jobs aren’t frowned upon as long as it doesn’t interfere with business hours. He was doing some custom work to this pick up and we started chatting around and such. The owner of the truck comes in and much to my surprise, it so happens to belong to the guy that knocked up my old best friend from high school (I’m fairly sure that I mentioned this awhile back).

 

I kept up with her over the past few months with the occasional AIM convo but this was the first time I met the father and I only recognized him from pictures she had shown me. I introduced myself to him and he figured out who I was rather quickly.

 

This was awkward to say the least. He was doing the right thing and was sticking with her and helping her with the pregnancy and will be an involved father although they have no intention of remaining together. However, the girl was my best friend for years and to be honest, I loved her more then anyone else for a very long time and I still care for her, which I supposed I always will. I wanted to hate this guy for what he did, even if I knew that she was as much to fault as anyone. I couldn’t, he was a good guy and I had some measure of respect for him to least be man enough to be there. I made the promise of going to see her soon before she has the kid but it seems the timing is never right but its something I need to do, especially since it’s due pretty soon.

 

I finally had a duel good week in both the football pick'ems and thats good because I strive for being mediocre as possible.

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