Sometimes, though, going out is good

Last night was way different than last Friday. I'll start by going back to last Monday at work - that Marsha sent an email out saying she had all manner of leftover burgers and stuff from a softball tournament that she has volunteered for almost forever and she and her man were hosting a barbecue on the coming Friday night. Would we (those of us that were emailed) like to come? And I, as I will routinely do at the beginning of a week, said, Sure! Why not? Marsha moved to Scappoose to live with said man, and I had yet to see her new digs. It was Monday, it sounded like a good idea at that time.

But because I am me, as the week grew shorter and filled itself with some of the exhausting things that it does (some mundane, some FANTASTIC. Simply FANTASTIC. Really. I'm just not going to get into it here but yeah, I couldn't have asked for better.), I started thinking, wow, I really would rather stay here with the kitlets and chill. It was tempting.

But instead, I grew a pair and went out.

I decided early in the week that I would never be drinking again (oh, relax. It's a figure of speech.), so I offered to drive anyone who thought they might imbibe. Scappoose is out there. So Friday it was arranged that I would drive out to Hillsboro, pick up Karen, and take the twisty-turny Cornelius Pass Road to Hwy 30 and points west.

The evening was actually really fun. I mean, I'm not surprised at all, these are good people, but it's just a really good thing to laugh (remember when it was a really great evening out when you got to make out with somebody? Well, if you're not drinking, then laughing really hard for a long time takes its place. Not that laughing AND making out with somebody isn't fantastic, it is, but at this stage of the game laughing is pretty awesome on its own). Was it far? Oh my hell it was far. I mean, it was like FURTHER than Scappoose. Was Cornelius Pass Road a hard road to drive on for someone as skittish as me? Um, yeah, especially on the way home in the dark (and I'd like to ask why you can't drive an 18-wheeler on Beaverton Hillsdale Hwy but you can sure as hell drive one on Cornelius Pass Road. Are you kidding me? It was like "Ice Road Truckers" minus the ice, and that was only because it's June. That is the most ridiculously dangerous road around here. I just don't get it.). But it was just a really fun evening, replete with good food, great conversation, stealthy goats and in the end more than a few mosquitos (but that just means it's Summer).

So there's a reason why I WILL go out again. Thanks to that Marsha and Stan for the hosting, and to one of the Steves for being so God damned funny about those goats.