Weekend 3-Way: how goes it?

It’s been an eventful week for meandyouandellie, what with the hospitalizations and threats of major canine surgeries and champagne corkage competitions and all.

So, to co- bloggers and readers alike, I inquire:

“how’s it going?”

I highly recommend that you respond in a high-point low-point manner. It’s fun, and so efficient!

Jacquie:

Fine, thanks! As I updated in the comments of my doggie woe post, the surgery that we thought was imminent is now merely a foreshadowing of horrors to come a bit farther down the line. But denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, so if it’s not happening now, that means it’s not happening, right? RIGHT! Yay!

High Point: See above, carefree denial.

Also, this meal:

Oh my word, what a delectable feast! Such a treat, such a favorite new spot, and my delightful dinner companion made the experience the highest of high points. When discussing the packing up of what we were unable to finish, she said: "My life is too complicated for leftover Indian food." As long as Beth is laid up, I have a very real shot at stealing Pat for my very own.

Low Point: The horror of the surgical consult for Moki. Not the consult itself, that was awesome. But… picture this. The dog joins me to drop the kids off at school, and is distraught when they flee the vehicle (Yes, flee. We are always late). She whines all the way to the vet. We arrive; I disembark, grabbing my coffee, the giant folder of xrays, my notes, my purse, my anxiety, and the leash to tether my 85 pound sasquatch. I can’t tell which door I’m supposed to go in, so I try one. There is a very sad person sitting on the floor with a very sick animal, which my demented charge attempts to greet, frolic with, and possibly consume. We are not popular. We flee. We find the right door; I spend the next 10 minutes trying to fill out a clipboard full of paperwork while managing to contain the wildebeest. And drink my coffee. I could not remember the name of her dog food, so I actually wrote “The Dick van Dyke kind.” She eats Natural Balance, created by Dick van Patten. I had to list the medication she is taking, but I couldn’t remember so I wrote: “the vet said it’s like the doggie version of advil.” Yeah, it was a proud, shining moment.

Ellie:
Well done, Jacquie. Actually, you're making it hard for the rest of us, with your highly entertaining account. I'm laughing in my coffee here. Plus, you gave me no parameters. High point, low point since when? You know I like structure in my life.

Last 24 hours? Okay.

Low Point:
After Bill and I both had two sober days this week (I know, I know. Sainthood is right around the corner), I broke that particular fast with a bang Thursday night. It was a fun night, but I may have gone slightly too far, and I woke up feeling like a bucket on Friday. So that was a low point. But I persevered, and plowed through my shift thanks to copious amounts of caffeine and the sheer force of my fierce will. So that was sort of a high point within a low point.

High Point:
And Friday night was even more loads of fun. All the peeps were out and about. There was a great Eugene O’Neill talk, there was great free music, there was a great Mets extra-innings victory, there were friends everywhere. And, highest high point of them all: we gave 3 separate friends – Hsin, Dave and Angela – their maiden Westy voyages.

Oh, wait. One more high point:

First rose of the season today.

Beth:

High point: Hmm, it has not been the best week ever, but my unplanned time in the hospital did afford me some high points: it’s always a treat to have flowers delivered, all the nurses on the floor did show up at my door singing a rousing rendition of “Happy Birthday” then presented me with the most petite cake you've ever seen (which I was able to share with my kids), and my room affords me a great vantage point for watching the medic helicopters land.

Low point: There were lots of low points this week, but I'd have to say that once I was confident the immediate danger for baby had passed, it had to be canceling the wedding party that was scheduled for tonight. Family and friends were flying in, preparations had been made, and lots of folks were planning on coming. The very worst part was knowing how much my husband was looking forward to it, and knowing that I'm the cause of the cancelation, thus his disappointment. I'm sorry, T.