Just Another Busy Weekend

I shouldn't make light of it.  After being lazy the past two or three weekends, I'm glad I finally did something for you to read about.

I set my alarm clock for the usual time and swam and worked out first thing on Saturday morning.  (Hypothesis:  don't swim before my workout because I couldn't complete my upper body exercises as usual.)  I hadn't worked out on Friday because I spent more than my usual time straightening up the weight room:  putting dumbbells and weight plates back on the racks instead of on the floor or scattered about the room or out of order on the racks.  (I figured, with the school being on spring break, the weight room should be in decent shape for a week.)

I had to work a bit, though.  There was a baseball tournament this weekend (who schedules games during spring break?), and I had to empty the trash cans.  After just one game on Thursday night, the cans were just a quarter full.  After just one game on Friday night, they were full to the rim.  I wonder what the difference in attendance was (or whatever reason there was more trash one night than the other).  I also wonder what the cans will be like today, after three games on Saturday.  (Oh well, that's what I have employees for.)

That afternoon, Thing One, her mom, and I drove to Scottsboro, Alabama.  What's so special about a little town in the South that few people have heard of?  It's the home of the Unclaimed Baggage Center -- where all the luggage that doesn't get returned to their owners goes to die.  :)  Seriously, though, all the suitcases, clothes, and assorted other items are put up for sale here.  It sounds good, right?  You might find some good stuff for a bargain, right?

My opinion is that it's just another thrift store.  Most of the store is taken up by clothes (although I am glad to say that they are well organized by gender, style, and size), but I picked up three books for five bucks (total).  (The website has a diagram of the store's departments, if you're curious enough.)  I saw a 100% cashmere overcoat in charcoal gray -- just what I had been looking for -- but it was the wrong size, and it was priced at $300.  Besides, you think I'm going to pay $300 for a used coat when I had bought a new one the previous weekend for a third of that price?  I figure that the prices are good only if you're used to paying retail (and when's the last time I did that?).

As Thing One pawed through the racks, looking for clothes suitable for herself or her daughter (she pointedly does not look for clothing at thrift stores, but she looked here), I chatted with her mom and entertained myself by people watching.  There were all genders, ages, colors, shapes, sizes, and even languages.  There were people who wandered back and forth aimlessly (probably bored, while someone they were with was agog at the selection).  There was one guy (I noticed just one) who had to look at each shirt on the rack one by one, even though you obviously could see the colors (yes, they even grouped shirts by color) and patterns from the side.  (Seriously, dude, get out of my way.)

If you are interested enough to go, yeah, I'll drive you, but we're not going on a Saturday.  It was too crowded.  I put up with all the baby carriages and strollers, since I'm not used to being places where they are, but I was ticked off by the woman that parked herself and her shopping cart and her two sons in front of the bookshelf so that she could show all the clothes she had picked out for them.  (Yes, they knew I was there, trying to see the books, but they didn't move.)  Then there was the woman that decided to read the book she had picked off the shelf, rather than buying it and reading it at home.  (Seriously, lady, get out of my way.)

Afterward, we stopped by a restaurant.  (I was hungry before we left The Noog, but, no, we had to go find bargains.)  We wanted to try one in particular (the baggage store's website has a list of local restaurants), but there were no cars in the parking lot, and it looked like someone had scribbled graffiti over all the windows, so we went to the Buenavista Mexican Restaurant instead.  You can well imagine what three New Mexicans thought of the food.  What Southerners call "hot" or "spicy" we call "sex in a canoe".  (You know, effing close to water.)  On the way out, we noticed a wall full of "Best of Jackson County" awards.  What does that say about Jackson County?

I woke up and swam and walked on Sunday morning.  Yay, two days in a row!  As I swam, I kept telling myself to think of the calories I was burning.  Then another part of my brain responded, "Yeah, but you've already burned more calories than you would have if you had stayed in bed, so why not just stop now?"  (I persevered, though.)

The rest of the morning, I alternated between cleaning my apartment and goofing off on the computer.  I even put my outdoor owls (wood, plastic, or metal) and anti-mosquito candles on the porch.  I was finished by lunchtime.  Yay!  It was a beautiful afternoon to relax.  'Tis a pity I didn't have anyone to throw a frisbee with.

Finally, you know I have to include a song that keeps with my theme...

What I noticed (I mean, besides the 1970's clothes and hair) was when they had an overview shot of the crowd, and I looked toward the stage in awe.  "Gee, look how big the TV cameras were back then."