So this past weekend was fun. After a really long week preparing for this big (boring) work event, I let all the stress go by drinking wine at Sally and Joe’s on Friday night. You know, enough wine to make you have a big fat headache the next day because you were drinking it as if it was the last day you’d ever drink wine. Ever. Luckily, it’s maybe 50 yards between the houses, and I managed to get home and into the house without stepping on one of the one meeellion apples in the yard and fatally twisting my ankle. Yes, I realize it’s probably nigh unto impossible to fatally twist one’s ankle, but this isn’t called dramatic sarcasm for nothing.
The good news was that I managed to pull myself together in time for the second night of drinking at Sally and Joe’s. The bad news is that I managed to pull myself together in time for the second night of drinking at Sally and Joe’s.
You see, their nephew Ian had come down to visit from Breckenridge, and so we were celebrating the fact that he had gotten here. Or something. We’re not hung up on finding reasons to drink, obviously. Ian and I have been friends for like nine years, ever since we both worked for Joe back in college. We hit it off from the very beginning, and have stayed friends through girlfriends, boyfriends, hookups with each other and hookups with other people. It’s just a cool relationship where things don’t get “wheird.” So it was awesome to see him because he just got back from a year in Japan in June, and I’ve only seen him once since. My friend Mandy came over too (she’s Sally’s daughter) and so the four of us were having quite the time.
Joe was fishing, and made the mistake of calling us around 9. This was after about four hours of the “open bar,” consisting of beer, wine, and tequila and a recently finished (sooooooo yummy) dinner where we could barely eat because we were laughing so hard. Therefore, Joe was the recipient of a lot of babbling accompanied by hysterical bursts of laughter and fragmented sentences which would inevitably turn into more hysterical laughing. It was definitely one of those “you had to be there” situations. When he came home on Monday, he still wasn’t sure what exactly we had been talking about.
So right around 9:30, everyone had kind of hit the wall. Yeah, don’t be jealous of our longevity in the drinking department. We shoot for quality AND quantity in a short period of time. So Mandy left, Sally went to bed, and Ian and I wandered to the Hot Tub House, intending to get in the hot tub. However, we got sucked in by Chappelle’s Show and also by laying down to watch said show. There was no hot tub.
I had to get up early to go to church (I have to show up EVERY week since I WORK there now), but luckily I had ever so wisely planned ahead by tempering my copious wine drinking with copious water drinking. And by not drinking the tequila. I’m a thinker! When I got home later, I went up to Sally’s, where I walked into the front yard, and Ian hugged me. His grandpa (Joe’s dad) lives across the street, and Grandpa yells “I should have known the chicks would start showing up!” And I yelled “Oh, so now I’m a ‘chick’?”And Grandpa says “A KNOCKOUT chick! I may be old, but I’m not stupid!” Oh that Grandpa – he’s a hoot. (Something you may have noticed by now is that I know pretty much every member of Sally and Joe's family -- I'm around there A LOT).
So yeah. That was the weekend. I have sort of toned down the extent of the hijinks for purposes of time and the "you had to be there" syndrome. Luckily, this weekend promises to have less drinking, even less hijinks, and more sleeping. Which is good and bad, I guess.
But you know what comes before the weekend? CSI!! Yay! I'm excited to an almost unreasonable degree about this! Can you tell?! Because of the exclamation points?! I love this show. It's because of the science. It's because of the writing. It's because of the investigatory techniques. You have to click on the links to know what I'm talking about. ALL THE REASONS TO LOVE CSI...