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I dearly wanted to find a luchador mask to wear for Xmortis on Friday, but such a thing was not to be. After a slow start the evening ramped up to speed and proceeded at a blistering pace until the wee hours of the morning. The next morning was about as miserable as the evening was exciting. Hangovers come in two varieties. There's the head swimming, pounding headache, nauseous kind of hangover that derails you for a day or so. That was not the kind of hangover I had (and rarely have). My hangover like running physically at 50% and emotionally at 10%. I find those hangovers far worse, because they turn positive energy into negative. They fuel the shadow soul which withers every thought it touches. Hydration and strict mental conditioning can beat those feelings back, but you know what works the best? A sushi dinner with friends. Halfway through the meal, I could feel my body turning over. Salmon and tuna and scallops and sticky rice turning directly into serotonin flooding my brain. We left with smiles on our faces, ready for the endurance test that was the $5 wine tasting.
The highest compliments paid to the many wines were tried that night were "It's not too bad" or "It tastes like nothing." Somewhere between 25% to 33% of the wines we tried fell into that category. The rest were truly awful. The delayed reaction Croatian wine was the worst in my opinion. It tasted mildly sour to begin with, then five seconds later it detonated in your mouth like a claymore of vileness. It was so bad that you had to shout out "Oh my god this is bad, you have to try this." And of course, someone would.
Slate gray sunday. Time to rest and relax from the mad crazy drinking and dancing from days before. Planted on the couch, comforter piled around me, a Firefly marathon on the TV. Hours passed. The sky darkened to a deep supernaturally eerie gray that I'd seldom seen. The time finally came to leave for a bachelor party, a sumptuous evening that pushed me into a serious food coma. Watching the groom smile as he thought about the upcoming wedding was I think the best way to end the weekend.
Sleep was not forthcoming. I fully expected to be taking a half day of work today, but we'll see how that goes. So far, so good.
The highest compliments paid to the many wines were tried that night were "It's not too bad" or "It tastes like nothing." Somewhere between 25% to 33% of the wines we tried fell into that category. The rest were truly awful. The delayed reaction Croatian wine was the worst in my opinion. It tasted mildly sour to begin with, then five seconds later it detonated in your mouth like a claymore of vileness. It was so bad that you had to shout out "Oh my god this is bad, you have to try this." And of course, someone would.
Slate gray sunday. Time to rest and relax from the mad crazy drinking and dancing from days before. Planted on the couch, comforter piled around me, a Firefly marathon on the TV. Hours passed. The sky darkened to a deep supernaturally eerie gray that I'd seldom seen. The time finally came to leave for a bachelor party, a sumptuous evening that pushed me into a serious food coma. Watching the groom smile as he thought about the upcoming wedding was I think the best way to end the weekend.
Sleep was not forthcoming. I fully expected to be taking a half day of work today, but we'll see how that goes. So far, so good.
