Shite Out

5 December 2009 · 2 comments

Did you have a night out with friends or a loved one that rocked your world? Who was there? What was the highlight of the night?*

Reading this question makes me want to cry.

I cannot think of a single solitary night “out” in the past year that would qualify as any kind of highlight. We’ve never left the kids with anyone other than family, from whom we now live more than 200 miles away. And we have four kids now, so proximity wouldn’t help anyway: our families think they’re too difficult to handle together.

So.

I suppose I can respond to this prompt with my idea of a night out that would, indeed, “rock my world,” if my world were, in fact, rockable.

My expectations are pretty modest, owing mostly to the four-kid deal, so the plan would be simple: dinner and a movie. With Brad I guess (heh). We’d have dinner, if I’m making this up anyway, at World Beat, which was an African place that existed in Austin when we lived here before. The last time I tried going there was the weekend of my 28th birthday, which was also the weekend of my doctoral commencement. My entire family was in town, and although I was supposed to pick the celebratory restaurant, it became clear that my choice should not involve anything “African,” even if that African place also made mean cheeseburgers (so they say… I never tried one because, when I went there, I liked to get, um, African food).

“Holy Mother of God, what do them people in Africa even eeeat? Aren’t them people them ones I seen on the teevee with the bones all stickin’ out every which a’ways and the flies all around?”

Okay. So maybe it wasn’t that bad, but Jesus, it was my birthday, and I’d just graduated with a PhD. Plus, I was 87 weeks pregnant with Anneke. AND I WANTED ME SOME DAMN AFRICAN FOOD. (P.S. That photo was taken three weeks before my graduation and a full month before Anneke was born. I grew mightily beyond that.)

So, dinner at a nonexistent restaurant, and then a movie at Alamo Drafthouse. I don’t have a particular movie in mind, but definitely no summer blockbusters, comedies, or anything “romantic” (because God knows the last thing I want to do on my perfect night is put out, heh… KIDDING). Okay, so a gritty independent drama. [Why, yes, I did just use the word "gritty," thankyouverymuch.] Preferably something a little depressing that’ll keep me thinking for the next week or two.

And if we’ve already eaten at a nonexistent restaurant on a night that’s never happening, I might as well have a second dinner at the Alamo. Possibly the Once Upon a Time in Mexico salad, which is just fantastic, and hot chocolate chip cookies for dessert.

After the movie, we’ll come home to a clean, empty house, watch TV for a bit, and then sleep for at least nine uninterrupted hours before waking to sunshine. Things to which we will not wake: children screaming, crying, whining, vomiting, running fevers, climbing into our bed, or peeing/pooping out of their diapers; alarm clocks; bellowing cats; or rocks for boobs. Oh. And I won’t wake to freight train-like snoring. Or jacked-up sheets or blankets.

It will be GLORIOUS.

I almost feel like I could run for President on this message.

* This post was written in response to Gwen Bell’s December 5th prompt for the Best of 2009 Blog Challenge.