Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Tales of a Weekend

I'm home. I had a good weekend. Quiet and relaxing with food, lots and lots of food. It's a good thing bff and I see each other so rarely; I'm not sure my stomach could handle the amounts of food that we always seem to indulge in on a more regular basis.
Some people are really good at packing. My mom, for instance, starts making a list of things she'll need three weeks ahead of time. She checks it daily to make sure she hasn't forgotten anything and makes a point of writing down, at the very moment she thinks of it, anything that is not on the list. When she goes on vacation, or even away for a couple of days, she is assured that she has everything she needs. I tend to pack a couple of hours before I leave and just open every drawer and cupboard in my room and grab things willy-nilly. I've forgotten my toothbrush, my hairdryer, an exercise bra, estrogen...this time I forgot to pack more than one shirt. It turned out ok, because, besides going out to eat every four seconds, we didn't do much. Still it would have been nice to have a little more variety.
For dinner on Saturday, we went for sushi. The place was packed with most of the patrons being Japanese. I happened to glance over at this one man and noticed that his hands were really small. And that made me look around and mentally add this sushi restaurant to places where I appear to be an overly large person. Other locations include: any dance class from my youth, all Abercrombie and Fitch locations, and the mirror after this weekend.
I have this horrible habit of getting lost. Well, not lost exactly, but I often miss my turn and have spent many hours of my life trying to get back on the right road. I left bff's around noon on Sunday, followed directions on how to get out of there, but somehow missed my turn (which would be less pathetic if it wasn't such a huge intersection including five lanes of traffic going each way). Anyway, no problem, I'll just turn around at the next intersection, get back on the road I'm on going the other way and then turn onto the road I need to be on from there. You know where a bad place to turn around on Sunday at noon is? In front of a church. I'm now up to many hours and 20 minutes.
Still, totally worth it--the overeating, the underpacking, and the extra time--I'd go through it again and again if it meant I got to see bff more.


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