I hate the Huskers

I had an alright weekend in the not-so-lovely state of Nebraska. One of my very good friends graduated from dental school and since I never turn down a party involving drunk, available doctors and free booze, I flew out for the “Look at me, I’m a fancy doctor” celebration. We drank, we laughed, we washed cum out of our hair. Good times.

My parents were also invited to the fete and, being the drunken socialites they are (the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree), joined in the fun. I had not seen my parents since Christmas, and by “not seen”, I mean, “not gotten spoiled by.” It was great to “see” them, but stressful, too. They are in the throws of remodeling and like idiots, value my opinion. The bedevilment is that trying to please me is a very difficult task and instead of just going with it, because it is their house after all, I debase them for their choices. It’s a symptom of the, “what’s mine is mine and what’s your is mine” syndrome of which I occasionally suffer… but I’m working on it. In the meantime, however, I took $50 from my Mom’s purse when I was giving her a hug goodbye. Happy Mother’s Day.