Bits and pieces.

Hey, all! My voice is back and so am I! There is so much to share . . .

So, Friday night, I did something I rarely do, which is gamble. My friends were kind enough to invite me along to an outing with the husband's colleagues at a local horse racing track. They made me engage in a game of "spot the lawyer," which was hatched when I said I would only attend if there would be no lawyers, and they said, "there is one, but you won't be able to guess who," so I was roped in and they were right, I couldn't guess which one was the lawyer and had to be told. And I was only required to talk to her for a little while and because we didn't figure out each other were lawyers, there was no lawyer talk, so that was all good.

In between playing that game, we drank and ate from a buffet that included a "choose your own pasta ingredients" and watched races and bet on those races. I won $41 and it only cost me $50 to do it! The strangest win was when my friend's husband and I each, without knowing it, bet the same exacta box (picking 2 horses to finish first and second, in either order) and won. Sadly, I missed seeing that actual race and having the pleasure of watching my horses win, because I ran into a former colleague who wanted nothing more than to regale me with the sad tale of her experiences at my former firm, when I would like nothing more than to forget about the very existence of that firm, forever. She is not a person who senses these things, however.

Saturday brought a delightful breakfast out with newspaper, much-needed massage, much-needed shopping, then some work, but not an unbearable amount of work. Sunday brought more of the same, minus the work, and with the addition of watching the Mavericks' sad loss with friends. I treated myself to a long-wanted zoom lens for my camera and now will be a menace to all who cross my path. This is the same lens that I saw on a man's camera in San Diego, which inspired me to cry out, "that is a big lens that you have!", much to the amusement of my friends and to the gratification of the guy involved.

Received a call today that carries on my perfect track record of every man I have dated marrying the very next woman he sees after me. Seriously, mothers, if you have a son you want to marry off, have him date me, then you are guaranteed to find a daughter-in-law in the very next woman he sees. It is foolproof. I'm sure we can work out some sort of arrangement. No, I really did not want to marry this guy--it never would have worked--but I would rather not have such a perfect record in this regard and must admit that there is a bit of "good lord--if he has a match out there, how can I not?"

Slightly heavy heart . . .