Good and Bad

The weekend had both.

Friday Bad
Shannon’s funeral was held in the rain, nasty traffic getting there. The service wasn’t that great, and we talked to her family, then hung around at the reception for a while.

Friday Good
Colleen suggested we go to her Dad’s after the reception – about 15 people did. We chatted for a couple hours, then most of us went to the nearby Outback. Shannon was only occaisonally the subject of conversation, but I know she would have enjoyed the evening, and I think she was there, after a fashion.

Saturday Bad
Driving to and from Bethesda in the rain; the rain at the Herndon Festival. And even with all the police presence on the weekend, they couldn’t stop our home invasion – by a raccoon. He wanted our trashcan, then our neighbor’s trashcan. Flipflops and water failed to deter him, but he didn’t seem to fond of golf balls – he didn’t come back after that.

Saturday Good
My myo appointment in Bethesda. The bands at the festival, especially Matt Nathanson. His performance was exactly like I envisioned when arguing for it on the volunteer board back in December. Jill and Linda and I thought he was the best act that day. We’re About 9 was very good as well. Found a recipe for two great things that are good together: guacasalsa.

Sunday Good
I went to a record show in the morning, picked up a couple CDs, chatted with my bud Eric. We went to the festival at 1, and by 2 the sun had finally come out, and it was a gourgeous day. Virginia Coalition was good, and Stuart, Janice and I responsibly enjoyed adult beverages (hefeweizen on tap is a good thing) – Jill didn’t drink because she worked last night, and left an hour early. Sopranos and Deadwood were good. No shockers on Sopranos like there was last week, though.

Sunday Bad
I was trying to get ready for bed, around midnight. I was putting some cables away in the basement when I got splashed. I turned on the light and there was water dripping from the ceiling. I turned off the main water, moved everything out of the way, and got a bucket. It was still coming down. I thought it was the kitchen sink, which has had issues in the past, but that wasn’t it. I discovered it was the dishwasher, and turned off the water to it. Eventually the water stopped, and I got all of it up. I decided not to call anyone – I think 17 years is enough time for a dishwasher, I’ll get a new one.