2.21.2006

Weekend Update

The weekend was less awkward than I had anticipated at times, and then more uncomfortable than I had imagined at others. On the one hand, who am I to judge? Alcoholism is a scary, embarrassing, depressing, heartbreaking issue. On the other, it's hard to keep your mouth shut when you feel like screaming that it's high time someone cut their losses.

Despite the weather's every intention of bringing the visit closer to misery with frigid temps, freezing rain (and snow!) and wind, we managed a little sightseeing. The aquarium was a big hit, the JFK Museum was informative and "oh what could have been" as usual, and the Conspiracy Museum raised a few eyebrows as it does, not only at the inconsistencies it brings to light, but also at the poster board/glue stick display methods and the typos running rampant throughout the room. (Truly, if you visit Dallas you don't want to miss the Sixth Floor / Conspiracy Museums combo pack- if only for the contrast of leaving a smoothly-assembled, professional quality venue and walking into something that appears to have been taken directly off the basement apartment walls of one of those nerdy dudes from the X-Files. But you can't get giggly about it because the owner is there, taking it all Very Seriously.)

We did run into a few obstacles over the weekend. For one: After talking up a local bar and grill, we arrived to find it closed, no wait, out of business. We then showed off further familiarity with the city by going next door for lunch, to a place that featured seafood on the majority of its menu (great for Monk and me, not so much for Biff and the boyfriend). Also, the sleeping. The random, staggered-shift sleeping of our houseguests that left us in a limbo of "are they coming back downstairs, or can we go run some errands, or should we just wait here and be quiet?" Every day this happened. I don’t do Trapped in My Own Home very well, I’ve discovered.

(However! During one of the many assplants into the couch this weekend, we stumbled across the Fox Reality TV Channel. AND! the
Paradise Hotel marathon, complete with present-day commentary by the former “guests.” If you have never been sucked into “reality” television, I applaud you, and yet also scold you for missing what will go down in history (at least my history) as the best. ever. reality show on television. Put a bunch of singles in a luxury hotel, with the premise that they have to hook up strategically or get booted, vote people into the hotel from the “outside world,” change the rules daily, add pressure and surprise visits from booted guests and ex-boyfriends... oh, and never reveal what the “Ultimate Prize” is so they have no idea what they are spending THREE MONTHS competing for, and you have great television, people. Add to that a familiar psycho and an open bar… It was crack to us, and every week Monk and I tuned in to see what else would blow up, and who would have to, as the host Amanda Byram would say in her strange, is-it-Irish-or-British accent, “check out of Paradise… forevah.” Heeee!)

Highlight of the visit (besides being reunited with our long lost P.H. soulmate) was our dinner at the tapas place that has become a favorite (now more than ever since we arrived and it was not unexpectedly closed or out of business). The Spanish guitarist played his heart out, the little plates of food arrived fast and hot, and I had forgotten about the bus boy who kinda sorta looks like
Orlando Bloom's little brother. It was quite pleasant at the end of the meal to dig into my flan, relax into the music and watch Orlandito scurry around the restaurant, instead of thinking about the boyfriend’s drinking or Biff breaking her vow of sobriety with a glass of sangria.

Yes, the pesky alcohol issue. No big drama, thankfully, but plenty of stilted conversation and awkward pauses as we all made a point to show how well we were handling the situation and no, that’s not an elephant in the corner, la di dah. To end the suspense, the boyfriend was given a beer run, as I decided it was ultimately not up to me to launch Intervention Weekend. There is so much more I could cover on this topic, but I’m throwing up my hands on this one. At least for now.

What a challenge it is to be back at work today, with the gray and the rainy and the scary pile of Stuff To Do, Today! on my desk. I’m keeping the hope alive and the expletives quiet by reminding myself that class starts this week (orientation only) and then I can begin dreaming the impossible dream of getting out of the office world. Forevah.

1 comment:

Blogger Lisa said...

Wow. What a weekend. If I am ever your way, I so want to check out the museums you mentioned.

9:04 PM  

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