So, Saturday, I went into Spokane in the afternoon with Kenny and my Dad. We started by going to JCPenney where Kenny got himself some new pants. Then, we went to Guitar Center, and I got my guitar strings. Next, I nagged Kenny into taking me to Dairy Queen and getting a Moo Latte (and to go to the bathroom... I don't know why JCPenney doesn't let anyone use their bathrooms, but they don't; you have to go into the Northtown mall to go pee, and I didn't actually go into Guitar Center due to the fact that the parking lot was covered with eight inches of slush and we had to park half a mile away from the store because of Outback Steakhouse's moronic, Gestapo-like idea that they can bogart public parking spaces for their "curbside take-away." Bastards).
After the quick Dairy Queen stop, we went to Michael's (the craft store), and I bought the acrylic resin for the "Weiner Award" as well as a new pair of scissors, some thread, some elastic, this neat rhinestone iron-on thing in the shape of a fleur-de-lis, a cute mirror for my livingroom, and some floral wire for another project. Next, we went out to eat at this place in Northpointe called Brooklyn's. They undercooked both my and Dad's hamburgers, even though we both asked for well-done. Luckily, neither of us suffered for it.
After that, we went to Wal*Mart where I bought party supplies and a treadmill and spent more than $300. Yipes.
Late that night, I put together the Weiner Award. Now, this acrylic stuff is dangerous. It says not to breathe it in, not to get it on your skin, not to accidentally get it in your mouth or your eyes... and the catalyst you add to it is even worse. Well, I got out this little container that Crisco shortening sticks come in that had a lid. I went out into the porch to mix everything. I took the cap off the acrylic resin, but they had soldered down another cap inside of it! I couldn't get it off, so, after trying to get the damned thing off for about 15 minutes, I finally went and got a church key and poked a hole in the can. I poured the stuff into an old frosting container and mixed it with the catalyst, and the whole place started to smell like cans of spray paint. It was terrible.
I finally got it all mixed up and poured it into the container with a thin piece of transparency paper, onto which I had written: "You're The WEINER!" with a Sharpie marker. I poured in more goop, and then stuck the breakfast sausage in there. It wanted to rise to the surface. So, I stuck a half a toothpick into the weinie and braced it against the lid of the Crisco container, put the whole thing in a Ziploc baggie and sealed it and brought it inside, because the damned stuff wouldn't set up right out in the cold; it has to be at room temperature.
I cleaned up everything else, but the whole house smelled like spray paint, despite my best intentions. Right before going to bed, I checked on the weinie, and found that the container was so hot that I couldn't touch it. It was as hot as any pan would get on the stove on "medium" or whatever. But, by morning, it looked fantastic. Kenny took it outside and ground off the sharp and uneven edges, and it looked like a real award. The Sharpie writing on the transparency didn't hold up real well, but I just re-wrote it on the outside of the award. That came off, too, but it can always be re-written. I don't care.
Sunday morning, I picked up clutter and cleaned the bathroom in preparation for the party. The DirecTV guy got here at about 11 AM and fixed our satellite dish, so we did have that for the party. I cooked pizzas, cheese sticks, taquitos, and put out chips and dip. I had 3 and half cases of beer and 3 and half cases of soda. It was a successful party. Here are a few pictures, including one of Carl winning the "Weiner Award." It's the only current picture in existence of the "Weiner Award." I'd definitely check it out.
We have band practice tonight. Other than that, I have no idea what's happening with the week.
