This entry kinda goes out to Kate, since she inspired it... My weekend, in a nutshell: Thursday night: tried to go up to Old Town to visit Shannon. Half way there, I get a call from her, saying that she was going home to visit me. I was already 70 miles away. Go figure, right? ~.^ Later that night: Macaroni Grill, for a $60 dinner. Good food, GREAT wine, dessert was enough to kill a mule. It was awesome. Then the hell starts. Friday: Get out of work only to bicker with Shannon about how none of our time seems to be our own (after all, we live with our parents and we really shouldn't). After that fight, I've been perusing the want-ads for affordable efficiencies, which don't exist in Maine. Saturday: Got in to RadioShack to see that not only did my manager wait until I was totally swamped to leave me ALONE with the store, but she gave me hell for giving her hell about it. The note that rests on her desk right now basically tells her that if she doesn't like the fact that I can only work one day of the weekend, and WILL NOT CLOSE, she can remove me from the schedule. I don't give a damn. Sunday: Worked again. Alone. My last days without days off. So, yeah...my weekend sucked for the most part. The redeeming parts of my weekend were the little visit Shannon and I paid to my friend Crystal on Saturday night (a visit crashed by seven or eight drunken children, essentially...none of them were of age, but they were drunk anyway), and Sunday evening, where Shannon beat me bowling, and I stood on the dock and did something I hope she found romantic. I proposed to her again, under moonlight, with the tide ebbing away. The ending was nice.