As of Wednesday night last week, I really had no plans going on for the weekend. I was going to use it to get caught up on random stuff, and possibly take a day trip out to Rochester to visit people. A brief Facebook message from Nicole inviting me to her 30th birthday party out on Lake Cayuga for the weekend changed those plans in a hurry. Being (significant) plan-devoid for the weekend, I was more than available to go as long as I shifted my workload around.
With the acceptance of the birthday weekend invitation, I had a short notice, busy weekend to contend with! Woohoo! But wait! Shit! I’m going through Rochester…I better add that to the trip as well! So, two trips through Rochester equals double the likelihood of finding a time that works, right? That worked out even better than I originally anticipated…I got to visit twice! That was freakin’ awesome! But anyways, back to the story.
Thursday turned into a preparation day. I had to wrap up all the week’s running experiments that evening, so I did not have any overflow on Thursday. In addition to that, I had to get home at a reasonable hour to get laundry done, even after the crazy realization run I did right after work. But I had a goal; I had ambition, and I was confident I could get it all done! Well, I did…laundry got finished by nearly 1am (insert a *facepalm* here), and still could not manage to fall asleep until 2am. Anxiety? Excitement? I could not say. I was tired enough, but my brain was not playing fair that night.
Friday morning left me with some thoughts I intended to blog briefly. Work kept me busy enough that I could not sit down long enough to concentrate and get them out. I just remember coming to some realizations while I was in the shower that morning.
- The older I get, the more things I find I need to scrub down in the morning shower. I don’t think it’s even because I’m gaining more things I need to scrub, but I’m just becoming that much more OCD about my personal grooming. Maybe as my age rolls along, it’s a subconscious sign that I’m striving harder and harder to attract/impress a suitable mate?
- My quadriceps, in their post-run soreness, are starting to look a bit scarily large. They used to be fairly large/pronounced in high school, but since I put on weight, it’s been less obvious how much muscle I had on the tops of my thighs. So through either the weight loss, the exercise from the running, or both, the size of my quads are becoming terribly obvious again. I’ve had enough trouble finding boxers that fit because of them. Quit getting bigger!!
- Something was supposed to go here…whoops.
So yeah, welcome to my thought process in the shower in the morning. My brain fixates on some odd things as it gets all 7.5 cylinders firing.
That terminal work day of the week went by far faster than I had anticipated. I communicated with a former graduate student in our lab to help her out with some protocols that she was unable to obtain from another current lab member. I even broke up my reply into two messages because I had to get to something else, upon which I completely forgot to finish the latter half of the reply until this morning. Egad. I had a loaded day though, and I was more than anxious to get out of town and get on with the day. My boss confirmed with HR that day what was going on with my research assistant appointment with the university, but unfortunately confirmed that they missed another pay period, since they were going to get my appointment engaged soon enough (thankfully, it did go into effect today). Fortunately, they were able to issue an advance on my up-and-coming 2.5-pay-period paycheck, so I didn’t go utterly broke. So with that, I had to take nearly 40 minutes out of my day to run up to the North Campus to procure the check from HR.
Zooming back to work, I had to wrap things up there, scrub down my bench and desk, and then hightail it out the door to find some swim trunks1. The previous evening left me unable to find any either Target or Kohl’s. I got the suggestion to go to Walmart, as they would probably be my best shot at this time of the year. Speaking with an associate at Walmart earned me the knowledge that they went on clearance nearly a month prior, and promptly went out the door like hotcakes. Delicious hotcakes. He has since been recommending that people go to the Beach House store, near the Burlington Coat Factory plaza on Niagara Falls Boulevard. A quick jaunt back down the Boulevard there revealed that the store has long since been closed. I wonder if anyone has bothered to go back and tell him he’s slightly uninformed these days now…
Swim trunk hunt: over. Crazy lightning in the distance? Check. Wait, what? Epic lightning and black skies? Oh yeah, that’s right, the skies opened up while I started my drive back home. Opened up so heavy in fact that people started driving about 15 MPH on Sheridan Drive because they couldn’t see the bottom of the road2. So between the nearly 45 minutes it took me to get home and late exit from the workplace, I was already nearly an hour behind my anticipated schedule for getting out of town. Three pants/shirts/boxers/socks/etc, bag, toiletries, sleeping bag, pillow, and *SLAM* boom, out the door. At this point it’s still raining pretty hard, so I’m dancing to get three bags into my trunk
without soaking myself, and driving through a downpour all the way from Buffalo to the Pembroke exit.
My Rochester dinner date was famished by the time I finally arrived, so it was only a quick stop before we were promptly off for The King & I, a Thai restaurant I kept hearing rave reviews about. Both the dinner and the experience lived up to expectation! We had an adorable3 waiter who kept cracking cute jokes and comments throughout the dinner visits, and was adequately doting on us to make sure the meal was going well. Dinner was followed up by a quick and astute trip to Walmart for ping pong balls4, before finally coming back to a rest for the evening. Hours zinging by later (say, I dunno, 2am?), I’m left wondering if people are even still going to be awake at the lake house when I arrive an hour later. A quick text inquiry shows that they (or at least someone) will be still awake, so off I go, 2am in the morning, to Lake Cayuga! Thank god for an overly-coffee’d Thai coffee at dinner keeping me awake through that mentally floating drive.
I arrive in one piece, kill another hour with the last two people standing (or just awake, really), and finally retire for bed. Morning comes, and it’s breakfast time! Nothing more than scrambled eggs, bagels, and bacon (courtesy of my sharp eye catching it in the convenience store), but it was delicious nonetheless. Especially with some pre-gaming mimosas to get us ready for a wine tour! The bus shows up way early (nearly a half hour) for the pickup, so people scramble off to finish getting ready before we pack into the bus.Five wineries, hundreds of samples tasted, and nearly a dozen and a half bottles later, we’re finally riding back to the lake house, loaded with wine, and even some delicious deli pizza from one of the wineries. Since this post is already getting ridiculously long, I’ll embellish the wine-touring later once the rest of my pictures get processed.
Everyone is down for the count after the wine tour. I’m almost convinced I was the only one who did not take a nap, as people kept coming and going from the porch and kitchen to go back to their respective bedrooms. Fine with me! I just enjoyed the calm lake out on the dock, and daydreamed my own recent bliss to supplement the atmosphere. A few hours later, we finally got dinner under wraps, only to follow it up with some terrible Showtime movie viewings. First up was finishing the rest of Piranha, a designed-for-3D horror that was more hilarity in its ridiculousness than it was real horror. Following that up was an even worse flick from eight years earlier, Piñata: Survival Island. Evil demon, trapped inside a piñata, that gets broken open, on an isolated island. ‘Nuff said. Cheesy deaths, obligatory hot’n’heavy scenes (although minimal nudity), and gaping plot holes: everything a bad B-horror should be!
A couple rounds of beer pong later, and some obligatory (and mediocre) hot tub time later, it was worthwhile to crash a bit earlier than 4am like the previous night. So at 2am, everyone is winding down so we can get cleared out by 10am the next morn. Like the night previous, my silly and aged ass wakes me up at 7’ish, leaving me among the earliest up, time to clean up a bunch of the kitchen, and have my vehicle completely packed and ready to go by 9am. *facepalm* My return visit to Rochester isn’t even really ready to go until nearly noon, so I have to take my time, whether I liked it or not. Thankfully, some Home Alone on Encore kept me entertained until departure time! I wished the birthday girl and company a safe trip back, and off I soared back to Rochester to complete the weekend.
At this point, I am now the famished one, so lunch over at the Lovin’ Cup is on the agenda as soon as we’re ready to go. Not before my first5 socialization attempt with the lovely lil’ Eskimo Bowie! Unfortunately, that did not go as well as could be hoped6, so after cleanup and damage control, we finally headed out for food. While we were out enjoying delicious (and mirrored) lunch fare, plans were locked in for watching the Packers/Bears game over at Cori’s friend’s house. The host (Sarah) was a Bears fan, so I figured it would make for interesting banter or jokes back and forth, but really it was pretty enjoyable overall. I think we made fun of her husband’s shock over the Patriots’ loss more than anything. And between learning about all the other jokes Cori and Sarah were going on about, it made for an awfully enjoyable afternoon with the game.
Of course, the evening wouldn’t be complete (after Friday’s case) if I didn’t overstay the evenign and leave at an irrational hour. Come about 11pm, I finally muscled the willpower to get my butt back to Buffalo (against other wishes of my own), and got my pining butt on the road. That was a poorly thought through plan; I nearly fell asleep repeatedly on the highway back to the city. As I hauled only half my weekend gear back up to my apartment, I promptly stripped, collapsed, and passed out on the bed. I was so ridiculously exhausted. I woke up feeling like I had a hangover! I never even touch a drop of alcohol on Sunday! Maybe just drunk on life, perhaps?
Nope, wait, yup, drunk on life. Maybe I didn’t convey the epicness of that weekend, but it was just what I needed. That and more. And I’m pretty sure that the best part is it’s probably going to continue getting better from here on out. 🙂
P.S. I’ll tag the fuck out of this post later. Right now, it’s time to go congratulate the birthday girl Nicole again over a few beers at the Blue Monk!
1My current/last pair barely fit back when I weight 250; the drawstring was merely decorative and not really functional. They nearly fell off back in that current state when I would get out of the water too fast. Now that I’ve lost at least 2-3″ off my waistline, I have absolutely no confidence that they’ll hang out any higher than the edge of my (semi-freakish) quads. Ugh.
2Even though if you’ve driven down the road more than once, you know damn well that if you can see the curb, you know the asphalt is only 4″ below that. *facepalm* Sorry buddy, if you’re not going to drive faster alongside me, you’re just going to have to drink up my rooster tails!
3I feel like I’ve insulted my masculinity to some extent by saying that, but (a) that really is the best way to describe his personality, and (b) I’ve never been that concerned about my masculinity…I’m concerned about coming off as a jerk than coming off as a ‘proper dude.’
4Nicole tweeted me just after leaving Buffalo to grab some for beer pong, so I said I’d grab them in Rochester. I’m pretty sure I hadn’t mentioned it yet (since I was just going to nab them when I left Rochester), but Cori had already caught sight of said tweet and was on top of things since we were already close to a WallyWorld while at dinner. Now that is some forethought!
6Boo! He managed to get a hold of the fleshy part of my palm below my thumb and tear off a bit of it with. He was so blindingly fast about it that I didn’t even realize how badly it hurt. I mean it hurt, but the pain just wasn’t there right away. I joked I got ‘kissed by the rock legend Bowie himself’ because the bite originally looked about the size of a pair of lips planting down a purple kiss print on my palm, bloody lesion and missing flesh aside.