Country music; the music of pain.

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In all of my years, I have never been to a country-western bar/dancehall/whatevah.

While it's not at the top of my return visit list, my evening at the Midnight Rodeo was fun, provided some entertaining conversation and even more entertaining sights and was way, way better than sitting home. (Kels, no reason for a phone call this a.m.)

Even if I did get home around 1:30 and have to work today. Sleep is for the weak, right?

My boss, Dan, had already offered Linda and I the couch at his place if we felt like getting too drunk to drive, but I dismissed that with "And then I can do the walk of shame down the credit union hallway ... *with my boss*." So I paced myself and made sure I was okay to drive. We had all met up a bit farther north beforehand so we could ride in one vehicle and we topped the night off with 1 a.m. Jack in the Box.

Highlights of the evening included Dan's 24-year-old cousin saying "That's been what, 15 years?" when I told him that I hadn't really been out drinking and dancing since I was in college (ouch.) and Linda, the licensed massage therapist, explaining a 'happy ending' to a very young and very innocent-looking deputy sheriff. I'm still trying to wrap my head around how that even comes up in the course of conversation ...

I was absolutey out of my element, again, but this pushing boundaries thing is kind of fun. Don't think I'll be standing in line for Enya tickets or suddently thinking "yes! my favorite way to vacation - a relative's couch!" or anything, but when it comes to going out and having fun, I'm willing to expand my horizons. A little.

And match.com, huh? I may have to have the girls over, make a pitcher of Micheladas and start surfing ...
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