As you may know, Homère is busy studying the law at a school far, far away. Ok maybe only a four-hour drive away. But still.
So that means I spend many a moment looking forward to the weekends he comes back. We usually have date night Friday night, then Saturday try do to errands, wedding tasks, fun things and hanging out with friends. But this Saturday our many attempts to invite people over for dinner failed, so we planned a fun-filled day all to ourselves. We started with guns, switched to a different type of shooting, and ended with much more bloody violence.
For my birthday Homère bought me (among other presents… I think I scared him by telling him how much I loved my birthday back in January) a LivingSocial deal for time at a shooting range. His reason for doing this was he knew I had never shot anything before, and he thought it would be fun. I was thankful, and appreciative, but inside I was thinking, “This could be a total disaster. I might not like this at all.”
Luckily, I was wrong.
After watching a very mediocre safety video that left me thinking Homère and I would probably end up with our fingers blown off at the end of the session, the nice men at the shooting range gave us some much more practical help, and we started shooting. And guess what? It was FUN. It was nice to feel competent loading the gun, and I liked trying to hit the target. Homère and I competed to see who got the most hits; he won.
I’m not sure the point of me knowing how to do this particular life skill, unless Armageddon comes upon us. I really can’t imagine myself ever carrying a gun or shooting any sort of cute and furry animal. But it was fun nonetheless.
After the shooting range, we upgraded to laser guns at Bed, Bath and Beyond and started our first registry. (Don’t go buying me anything yet! We need to fine-tune it first — which means my mother needs to tell me what completely pointless stuff to eliminate.) Registering is halfway fun, because it’s like the biggest shopping spree of your life and you don’t spend any money, but it’s also agonizing, because it’s the biggest shopping spree of your life and you’re asking other people to spend money on you — something I always find stressful. In addition, we couldn’t get the Nice Helper Lady to go away for quite some time, which is a dilemma if you need to use the restroom but don’t want to leave her standing there to chat awkwardly with your fiancè about china patterns.
After plodding through the immensity that is the stuffed vastness of Bed, Bath and Beyond, Homère and I were exhausted, so we went back to my house and watched a movie that I remembered liking but that I did not remember having so much violence. Braveheart. So much blood! And so many historical inaccuracies. But you really can’t beat that guttural cry in terms of epic movie endings: “Freedom!”