Various Weekend Endeavors. . .

This past weekend has been quite eventful.
First of all, to those of you who have heard of it, Cat's Corner (the restaurant on the corner of 4th and Spruce St), has officially closed down, and will re-open again in a few months as a Mexican restaurant of some sort. The reason this is important is because my mom used to work there a while back, and so we are friends with many of the people who currently work there. They had a closing party this past Friday night that my mom was unable to go to because she had to work, and that I was unable to go to because I was at Shannon's house, and her mother did not feel up to going. I'm hoping that when it re-opens, the new owners will keep the same staff, so that the current workers won't have to go job-hunting, what with the economy being the way it is.

Then, also on Friday, I got my poetry journal back and discovered to my pleasure that I got a 102! I didn't fill in two journals (like some overachievers *cough, cough), and it wasn't all that creative, so I'm rather proud of myself. That afternoon, I rode home on the bus with Shannon. We hung around outside most of the day with her 9-year-old neighbor David (who we started to call Dafydd later on) and took some really cool pictures with my camera. Then, after a few hours (and once my skin had roasted sufficiently because of how hot it was outside) we came in a ate a dinner of Taco Bell that Stacia had brought home with her.
I was super-excited because I had finally gotten my mom's computer to successfully burn a cd, so I had brought over two cds: one to give to Shannon (who always loves my cds ( : ) and one for her cousin, Sean (who apparently liked the last cd that I gave him). So I let Shannon listen to the two cds that night, and I let her pick which one she wanted. Contrary to my prediction, she picked the one that I had made on my dad's computer (or the one that wasn't as cheesy).
The next morning, we drove to pick up Sylvia at her house before going to this field-day like event at Reagan, where Stacia teaches. Unfortunately, we had missed most of the action, and so we dropped Sylvia back off at her house and drove back to Shannon's early. We spent the rest of that morning over at her little five-year-old neighbor's birthday party. I took pictures of Shannon and Dafydd jumping around in the inflatable bouncy thing. It was pretty fun. Then, after a while of doing this, my madre came to pick me up and we ate dinner that night at this Chinese place near our house, the restaurant we had ordered food from the very first night we stayed in her new house. So, tons of chicken fried rice and a little nostalgia completed my day nicely.
Then, I came to my dad's house the next day, and spent Sunday night hanging out with him, Heather, and Hopey.

As a side-note, I've started to learn how to play Hallelulah (Rufus Wainwright) on the piano; it's a beautiful song, for those of you who haven't heard it:

I heard there was a secret chord
that David played
and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music
do you?

It goes like this the 4th, the 5th,
the minor fall, the major lift,
the baffled king composing
Hallelulah. . .

and so on and so forth.
But anyways, there isn't a whole lot of other news, except that I had a weird dream last night, that this person and I were trying to find where my step-mom, Heather was speaking. We were wandering around in this dark auditorium full of these prim women in bright red (though conservatively cut) dresses and old bald men in gray suits. There were white-clothed tables all around the walls, and a light fell on the stage, but it was empty, and we gathered from the general discussion around us that Heather had already spoken. So, we wandered out into a gray day and rain was starting to drizzle down, and I was wearing a raincoat, as well as my mysterious (or not so mysterious) companion. We were walking on a yellow beach alongside a steel gray ocean, toward a parking lot a few hundred yards away, where we could see the old bald men leading their high-heeled women to shiny silver vans. On our left were all these fancy hotel resorts, the ones that cost an extra 100 some dollars a night just because of their relation to the ocean. It was to my knowledge, in the dream, that the Mystery Person had the keys to my car in the pocket of their raincoat (I was driving a red PT Cruiser, by the way), and so I abandoned all typical courtesy and began reaching into their raincoat pockets. Then, if one would believe it, this person takes the keys out of the pocket that I hadn't checked yet, and chucked them into the ocean. I ran over to where the waves lapped onto the land and tried to find my keys, but there were thousands of these jellyfish washed up onto the shore, dead, and my feet kept sinking into their jellowy skin like quick-sand. There were moments when I was underwater, unable to move my legs, but I was finally able to resurface long enough to see the Mystery Person hop onto a motorcycle outside one of the hotels and drive away.
Then, I woke up with Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen stuck in my head.
In any case, the trip is tomorrow, and I am excited. I'll be sure to write about it in more depth when I get back.