Well, as it appears that I am still here, it seems that I have lived through the weekend. It actually wasn't really that crazy. Friday was pretty chill......Jack and I went over to a neighbors house while Dave played. While Jack may not have siblings, he has me and we have a tendency to fight as such. He was pissed because I wouldn't let him have a sleepover with a bunch of girls. Sorry. Not gonna happen. He says, "MOM!!!! You're just going to go home and fall asleep". Correct, junior.....that's exactly what I'm going to do. I'm old and I'm tired. If you choose to stay up until 11:30 watching Cartoon Network, that is your prerogative but I am not going to participate. Good night and quit your bitchin'. Wake me up if there's a fire or loss of limb. We also had to be on the way downtown by 9:30 the next morning for Dave's 10:30 gig at Scruffy Murphy's. St. Patrick's Day parade celebrations that begin before noon are often excellent people watching opportunities. There's this old dude from Boulder that shows up at Irish pubs (all year long, not just in March) dressed like the freakin' pope. He was walking around blessing people. Errrr.....that's not Holy Water, my friend. More like firewater. And lots of it. So that was a good time but when you take kids to things like that you have to be very aware of when it starts to "turn". You parents out there know what I'm talking about. It's when wholesome family fun (with beer involved) starts turning into drunken idiot hour. Time to pack it up. One of our friends happens to work at Molson Coors. They have offices downtown. Really nice offices. On the 32nd floor with panoramic views of the city and mountains. Oh, and a TAP ROOM WITH FREE BEER. Not a bad place to hang out with the kiddies. They were happy and we were happy. VERY happy. Ended up heading home after that fabulosity. Long day and even though Baby Grady had a Baby Grady sitter, he still ended up bagging some long kennel hours and we wanted to spring him. The party kept on rollin' yesterday as there is no rest for the Albanian Rock and Roll Realtor. Or the wicked. That's me. He played at Ned Kelly's. Ned Kelly's is a bar that is right out of a movie. It's pretty much a dive bar that has been converted to an IRISH dive bar. The same people that frequented it in it's former life are still there. The construction probably went on around them as they sat on their bar stools. It was a spectacle. I talked to a guy that I've actually met there before. I call him "Cowboy Curtis". He likes to get his drink on. To the point of being unintelligible. All I really got was that he thinks I'm an "attractive woman". Or an "active woman". Something like that. Ned's also caters to Vietnam Vets. Colorful lot, that. Suffice to say, I had a LOT of interesting conversations. The really funny thing about Ned's is that this rag-tag band of patrons are amongst the friendliest barflies I've ever encountered. And it will surprise no one that I have encountered many. Scores, really. Anyway, a good weekend was had by all. I actually feel less wounded than I did after my weekend with Skippy. In fact I'll be ready go on Wednesday. Happy St. Paddy's week, everybody!