I never did describe this past weekend, so I'm gonna do it today. It's not terribly exciting, but it was fun and exhausting and all in all, pretty good.

Friday night I was doing my usual That 70's Show paging, having fun and enjoying my time with the other pages. One of our pages from last season, Jenny, came to watch the show and to visit with us, she missed us all so much. See, Jenny graduated from high school in June and will be going to San Diego State University in a couple of weeks.

(When we first started the show last year, I mentioned that it took place in 1976 and how I enjoyed turning ten years old.

Me: When were you born?

Jenny: Um, 1981.

Me: (eyes bug out in disbelief, then with a dismissive wave) Begone from my sight, child.

Since then, I've come to look on Jenny as a friend and sort of a little sister. Just a sweet girl.)

Anyway, we all had fun, in between our usual work related stuff. Jenny and I did a little girl-chatting, during which fellow page Alex kept trying to butt in. (Alex is a good friend, and all-around nice guy, who's also head page Rick's room-mate.) Chrissy (yes, another page, go here if ya want to see who everyone is, just keep in mind that the scans aren't all that great) and I conspired to give Jenny's name to the warm-up guy for a little The Price Is Right game he does. She was not amused, but took it in fairly good grace. (Hey, I offered my arm for punching, and she refused to punch me. Therefore it couldn't have been too bad, since most people don't hesitate to hit me when I offer.) And there was a lot of good-natured pickng on Jenny, just like last season. (We weren't being mean, since everyone gives everyone else a hard time. Almost like my real family.)

Jenny was sad to leave us, but we'll all still hang out when she comes up on weekends to visit her family.

On Saturday I woke up around 10:30 am (my usual weekend waking time), lounged around for a couple of hours, then showered, dressed, ran out to get my grimy little car washed and went to a four hour CPR re-certification class that ended up being 3 1/2 hours.

AU gives the class for all pages at the beginning of each season and also pays us for attending. Not a lot of money (our hourly rate), but I don't mind. I like going to these sort of classes. It always makes me feel as if I'm helping out in some way. Choking? No problem, I'm medically trained to help you eject your food halfway across the room. Have you stopped breathing and lack a pulse? That's ok, I'll just slap you on the shoulder and ask if you're ok, then pound the hell out of your chest. Do you have blood spurting from a severed artery at the top of your thigh? Well, um, ok, but I hope I don't pass out from squeamishness. Got some gauze?

After the class I shopped, shopped, shopped for sis Teresa's baby shower. I found what I was looking for, then got a little something to eat, which I didn't finish (I haven't been all that hungry lately) and went home.

I woke up later than I anticpated on Sunday, then ran around like the proverbial headless chicken showering, dressing and wrapping presents. My other sister Lisa and her six year-old daughter Courtney were in town for the weekend and I hadn't seen them for a while (they live in Fresno, which is about 3-3 1/2 hours northeast of L.A.), so I still had to wrap Lisa's and Courtney's very belated birthday presents. Plus I had forgotten to get a frame for the autographed photo from Mike Farrell that I was going to give my mom. Hmmm, I can get a new frame for this family picture another time, I'll just steal that.

So off to Simi Valley (best known for the "Rodney King trial", though King wasn't the guy on trial) to Teresa's friend's Cora's place. It was a double shower, but the other gal (Brenda) had her baby the day before, so Brenda's boyfriend Vaughn stood in for her. A really nice guy who had a lot of fun with all this shower stuff. (Though I think he just enjoyed being amongst so many lovely ladies).

I had met a couple of Teresa's friends before, but I didn't know most of the people there. Still, I had a great time (I tend to be horribly shy in groups of people that I don't know), took all sorts of pictures with my dad's digital camera (which was accidentally hi-jacked by Lisa) and even came away with some tomatoes that Cora's mom grows in the front yard. What a sweet lady.

All the Cyrs (and that includes Lisa and Courtney, though they go by the last name of Taylor) went back to my folks place, where Dad continued to work on his computer (newly loaded programs kept conflicting and it was driving him nuts) and Lisa, Courtney and I frolicked in the pool as Mom and Teresa looked on. I had forgotten my swimsuit, but Teresa still had a t-shirt that I had lent her and some boxers that were huge on her, but barely fit me. (Even eight months pregnant, Teresa's waist and hips are smaller than mine.) They did the job.

Mom was thrilled with the photo. I had put it in a gift bag.

Me: And here's a present for you.

Mom: It's not my birthday or anything.

Me: Still, I've got a little something for you.

She took the frame out of the bag, saw Mike's smiling face, and started to say thank you, when she saw the signature. Her mouth dropped, then she saw that it was made out to her, and her eyes bugged wide open.

Mom: How did he know my name?

Me: I told him.

Mom: You mean�

Me: Yep, I dropped off the tapes on Friday.

Mom was speechless. But she was soooo happy. She was beaming for the rest of the day. And the photo sat on the coffee table for quite some time, too.

We all had pizza (I still wasn't very hungry) and talked, then Lisa and Courtney had to drive back home. Whilst saying our goodbyes, which easily took an hour, police helicopters circled our area over and over, which got all of us nervous. Lisa rushed to put Courtney in the truck, and Mom, Teresa and I hurried inside. Before I would leave I wanted to wait for Dad to get back from picking up his medicine (those police copters had us concerned about him, sorry, we're just the worrying sort), which was about an hour later. As usual I got home really late.

I told ya it wasn't thrilling, but I enjoyed it, nevertheless.

Just a few thoughts: listening to M*A*S*H on TV while I was getting ready for work this morning, I heard a couple of lines that I've always thought were great, and reminded me of things I've felt.

1. Hawkeye to Margaret: We're looking for custom-fit people in an off-the-rack world.
   
2. Mulcahy to Hawkeye: Sometimes I feel like I'm just hanging on the edges of usefulness.

(Actually, I think I misremembered the exact wording of that last one. I'll check my tapes tonight. It's such a great line that I want to get it right.)