Have I mentioned that I love Vicodin? Because I do. It is my friend. After three days of ouch, I left work at noon yesterday, drove home, ate a hot pocket (don't you judge me), popped a Vicodin that was left over from my C-Section and promptly passed out on my couch.
Oh lordy me, I feel gooooooood today. Should have done it days ago. But that's neither here nor there. What is for certain? I'll be driving to Chico this afternoon to accompany my sister to our second ever...
Journey concert.
Mock me, if you must. But I challenge you to find a more fun concert to go to. It's fantastic. The fans are a mix between old people fans (who remember when Journey was making new music) and us younger folk who only know Journey from drunken juke box selections. Either way, fun to be had. Last time we went to a Journey concert, I'm fairly certian the creepy biker couple sitting in front of us conceived a child. A child, I'm sure, they named Steve Perry. It's been a couple of years now, so perhaps we'll see little Steve running around the venue.
So, I'm just about out of here. Enjoy whatever NON-Journey fun you have planned for your weekend. We'll be back on Tuesday to compare notes, but I doubt anyone will have had more fun than I. Huzzah!
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