I have a tendency to only really use this space here for when I'm feeling conflicted and worn down by something. It's a cathartic laxative for my emotional constipation, if you will. I guess that explains why my writing is shit.
My point is this: I just had a lovely weekend.
On Friday, I ate some bachelor chow and wrapped a few presents for my girlfriend. Then I met up online with my uncle, and for an hour we puttered around a bleak Soviet landscape, towing eachother through the mud and hauling logs back and forth. We've been playing SpinTires Mudrunner, which is wonderfully relaxed and challenging, and completely devoid of pressure. It's just fun to drive a bunch of trucks through the dirt and bog.
We played for an hour, then I cranked the tunes in my new (erm, used) BMW, and hauled all the gifts to my girlfriend's place. She loves getting presents and not knowing what's in them. It makes me happy to see how thrilled she gets. She won't even touch them in order to maintain maximum suspense.
The next morning we got up and made waffles. She convinced me to use a recipe that called for a half cup (!!) of cooking oil. Seemed to be a bit excessive to me, but low and behold... I finally produced some waffles that were fully circular, rather than looking like a half-assed piece of architecture with exposed rebar around the edges. And not only were these pancakes fully formed, but the texture was pah-erfect. Crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside. Apply maple syrup and whipped cream liberally.
Then we went a picked up two free deep-dish apple crumble pies from the hoighty-toity market next door. I got two coupons in the mail for them for some reason, and when I checked out and asked the cashier, I found out they had given away 500 of the damn things the day prior. Five hundred. Kinda made me wonder about the economics behind it all - what was the average cost of each pie? If some schmuck bought a $4.35 tub of ginger whipped cream to go with his free pie (...like I did), would they break even on the cost? For the record, that whipped cream was not worth the price of admission. And while the pie was good, it was not $17 worth of good.
Alas, the day continued. We took advantage of the gorgeous weather (seriously, I had to take off my coat and open my sweater) and walked to the movie theater and chatted along the way. Then we watched Coco. Fantastic movie. I mean, it was a tad predictable (it's basically Moana), but the art was fabulous and the core message was good. And it got me all inspired to play some more music, which no doubt will fizzle out in short order.
After the movie we went to the grocery store, where we bought a pizza pan, some chicken, and pizza sauce. Then we walked home and made mac n' cheese. You see, before we went to the movie, my lady had tried her hand at making pizza dough. So we loaded up the dough with the sauce, mac n' cheese, some chicken, red peppers, and mozza. Yes, based on a single off-hand comment in an episode of Parks and Recreation, we set out to create a Mac n' Cheese Pizza without doing a lick of research. And you know what? It turned out friggin' awesome. Like, no joke, I think it was the best pizza I've had in the last couple of years. We nailed it. The crust was perfect, the toppings were perfect. And we ate it all by candlelight. So romantic.
Then we watched some TV and played some cribbage. She beat me pretty well, but I'm still winning the series 16-12. But that gap is closing fast.
On Sunday I slept in a bit while she taught. I got up, cleaned the kitchen, and managed to time the scrambled eggs and hashbrowns to be hot out of the pan by the time she came through the door. And dare I say it, then hashbrowns turned out perfectly. You see, you have to pre-heat the pan before frying the potatoes. It makes a world of difference. And getting them out of the pot a bit sooner than later helps too.
After lunch we went for a short walk and got her a coffee. Then we settled in and watched the last two episodes of Handmaid's Tale. And, holy crap, is that show dark as hell. Left me thinking, "Everyone ever is terrible and I wish a nuclear holocaust would happen to just wipe us all out because everyone is total scum to each other." I have to admit that that show gets to me more than most others.
Then I head home, where my uncle dropped by to help me get the carburetor's off of the bike. Now I'm left with the intimidating task of refurbishing them. To my untrained and easily intimidated eyes, it's like looking at a rat's nest of screws and plates and gaskets. Here's hoping that once I order and receive the rebuilt kit, I can get the sucker put back together again.
I saw a lot of motorcyclists around this weekend while the weather was nice. Makes me wish I would've left my bike in running order, but... The weather will change shortly anyways. I'm really excited for the spring to arrive, though.
After I drove my uncle home, I finished watching Craig Ferguson's Netflix special and ate some dinner. My uncle did another hour's worth of mud flinging in the cold brown depths of Siberia's wasteland, I did some tidying up, and now... here I am. I think I'm going to post this, tidy up a bit, and crawl into bed. I might even start reading book #3 in the Dark Tower series.
This next week and a half is going to be busy. Need to get ready to go home for Christmas, need to book the car for some maintenance (hooray antifreeze leaks), need to work on a fistful of freelance projects. No joke, I have five branding identities on the go right now. Good grief.
But it was at some point last night where I found myself thinking, "Wow, this has been a really great weekend so far." And it's just kinda kept on going. Feels nice. And I'm glad that I can recognize something like that while it's happening. When was the last time you had a good weekend?
Sometimes I worry that in five or ten or twenty years, myself or someone else entirely will look through this blog and say to themselves, "Wow, what a miserable guy." I don't intuitively feel like that's who I am, but I'm also self aware enough to know that I can easily skew towards the pessimistic and that a person becomes the kind of person they express them self to be.
So when I realized I was having a good weekend, I felt like I'd be remiss not to give it the same care and attention that I do when I'm saddled with a heavy heart or bleak conundrum. The hour grows late and the work week is striding up the path to my door. But that's alright, because you know what? It feels good to... feel good.
-Cril
No comments:
Post a Comment