The weekends can't get here fast enough, and can't last long enough. I'm enjoying my weekends more lately, and my work week less. This was no more obvious than Monday morning, when I was standing in the shower, thinking to myself "Only four more pre-work showers left this week..." I do that a lot, but it's usually "Only three more rush-hour subway rides this week" or "only two more days of staring at this screen" or "only three more days of waking up when I don't want to." Rarely do I start the countdown to the weekend on Monday morning. Now that I don't have a lot of work to do on nights and the weekends, the weekends are actually starting to be full of leisure time again. Imagine that. And I find myself really savoring it.It was a fun, yet tough weekend to be in my apartment, because of the weather outside, which was frightful. And no fire to call delightful. The weather inside my apartment was not much better, as a discernible breeze could be felt across the room from the windows. The three giant windows in our living room are wonderful, provide much light, and are one of the best parts of the apartment, but their cosmetic beauty is just about their only function. Because they're certainly not doing a bang-up job of keeping the elements out. Miss Charming Melodee and I have collected a lot of stuff to keep us busy- computers, assorted musical instruments, vehicles for artistic endeavors- but it was so cold in the place that it made it hard to want to do anything besides huddle around the space heater or stand by the oven. We did bake some cookies just to justify turning the oven on. This had been going on for several days, as well as back in November, so we finally decided to try to weather-proof our windows. It was a major pain in the ass, but we finally managed fit the plastic sheets around two of the three windows. What was annoying was that the sheets were three inches shorter than they purported to be (or we mis-measured). So we had to just tape the top to the window. When I was a kid, I was always annoyed when my parents would put this plastic shield over my bedroom windows. I always asked them not to do it, and inevitable one day I'd look at the window and notice that they were there. I don't know why it bothered me so much. I think it was partly because I wanted to think I was too tough for it. It was like sleeping with the plastic sheet on the bed, or with this railing that we had to keep us from falling off the bed. I also think that the plastic made me feel trapped. I'm mildly claustraphobic, and anything that restrains my freedom of movement freaks me out a little. So I saw the plastic as a barrier to exiting the room by the windows. Anyway, you'd think after years of study of the hated window plastic, I'd have mastered the application process. But it turned into a big mess. The double-sided tape wasn't even sticky on one side, and the wall was too cold, so the adhesive pretty much froze, and we hadn't cleaned the window edges so nothing would stick. But now it's a tad warmer, and it's one less thing to worry about. Now, I have one less excuse to write a story I've been trying to write for the past week. Or thinking about writing.
Anyway, the fun part of the weekend was basically everything that didn't have to do with the climate. On Saturday night, Miss CM and I met Jed and Matt down in Red Hook, at the bar Sunny's. MCM and I had been there a few weeks before and quite liked the place. An old fishing house I think, built over a hundred years ago. After my first visit there, I'd imagined that it'd be the perfect place one would hang out on a bitterly cold winter night, sitting around a table with friends. It would have been better if we were going ice-fishing later, but it was still a good time. MCM hasn't heard a lot of the stories, so there was a revamp of a lot of oldies but goodies, such as Matt's dalliance with the dark spirits and trying to conjure demons as a misguided youth. He rates as one of the two lowest moments of his life with his dad as when his dad found his necronomicon, and he questioned Matt about it. Matt responded in his best demon-voice, "give it back!" or something, in an effort to scare his dad. I would pay at least 20 dollars to see video of this encounter.
Much of the time at the bar was spent telling stories and having inane debates. Not only did we have a debate on whether it was better to be too hot or too cold, but Matt and I had an argument over whose "thing" that debate was. He laid claim to it, which was backed up to Jed, but I maintained that that was one of my core questions that I've asked and argued for years. My others include "would you rather have no arms or no legs," and just added recently "would you rather have to fight ghosts or aliens." My answers are: too cold, no legs, and ghosts. I think. Anyway, no one else agreed with me on the too cold point, but saying I should just step outside and rethink my choice. But I think that the fact that it was 10 degrees outside only validated my opinion more. In the face of terribly cold conditions, I stuck with cold. All I know is, I'd rather spend ten nights in the cold than relive the one night of the blackout back in August, which was probably the hottest, stickiest, most uncomfortable night of my life. But they didn't see this. In the end, I think we were all arguing different points, but that didn't stop us from arguing for a long while. Still, I think it was generally agreed upon that it was a pleasantly fun night. The most fun I've had at a bar in a while. After we got home, I was hungry, and nothing finishes off a night of drinking like something hot and salty, so I made myself a nice hot sausage and cheese sandwich. And it was great. Just what the doctor ordered. It was so good, that I chopped a nub off another piece of sausage and devoured that as well.
On Sunday, I rose late, and made no plans. The only thing on the schedule was to watch the Eagles-Packers game in the late afternoon. MCM has been hired by my brother Garrick to do his wedding invitations, so her friend from work came over to help her a bit with those. So that occupied her for most of the day. Which was just as well, since I'm sure she wouldn't have appreciated me watching football all day and ignoring her like I did. <!--start- sports rant->So Geoff came over, and we ate a bunch of junkfood and watched the game, which was thrilling up until the last second. I'd prepared myself mentally for the Eagles to lose all day, but somehow they managed to pull it out, including a miracle play on 4th-and-26. After the game, Geoff and I were both a bit surprised at how much the victory affected our moods. I'd already resigned myself to the usual Sunday-night anxiety of feeling guilty for wasting the whole day watching sports. But now, I felt great. I felt uplifted, like I'd participated in something really worthy of my time. Which, I know, is sad. But being a Philadelphia sports fan my whole life, I'm always preparing myself for the letdown. As I've said before, this mentality has bled into all facets of my life. So when something actually defies the odds and turns out how I'd hoped, it's even more reason for exultation. Of course, they need to win two more games, but at this point I'd just be happy if they made the Super Bowl. I mean, does anybody really want to see the Carolina Panthers in the Super Bowl? But I'm preparing myself for the worst. I should be happy that they're playing the Panthers instead of the Rams, but after seeing what bad coaching can do for a team in the playoffs, I'd almost rather face the Rams. Anyway, </sports rant>. So all in all, a good weekend. I also managed to eat like a beast, which was a good topper.
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