Monday, August 8, 2011

The Weekend

I finally got out of the serious funk I've been in lately by remembering some basic truths, mainly: I'm kinda awesome. And what makes me awesome is going out in the world and having experiences. When I hide from that, I suck at life and feel crappy. I may be a giant disaster of a person, but I'm not the world's biggest fuck up, which is how I'd been feeling. Just an average ordinary fuck up. I have some redeeming qualities, right? All the mistakes and missteps that lead to all the ridiculous stories I write about are my mistakes and missteps and I own them. So here's to more mistakes and missteps! Or, um, maybe a few less mistakes but still good stories.

This weekend, despite pervasive SF summer fog, was pretty awesome. It started by leaving the fog and going to Santa Rosa to pick up the stepmom. Since dad and I got there early, we headed to his friend's winery not too far away and sat on the giant wrap around porch drinking wine early in the afternoon. His house is gorgeous and it's a along with being a wedding site and vineyard and it was pretty fun. Except the mom of the 1 year old, dad's friend's fiance, told the one year old, about to unplug something on the porch to, "Make good decisions!" Sorry for this but: lolz wut? I don't have kids, nor want them, but pretty sure at 1 you just tell them NO. They don't have the cognitive ability to understand what making a decision is. I learned that much in some child psych class I took in college. It was surreal.

Anyway, there are worse things than private wine tasting in Sonoma. The wine drinking continued with dinner at a Santa Rosa wine bar and more wine on stepmom's front porch. Got home and watched movies, chatted on the internet with friends 'til too late and finally passed out. 

Despite being a little worse for the wear the next day, I still managed to go kick some gym ass before making dinner and heading to the party my brother and two friends were holding at a bar for their birthdays. I love the heck out of my brother's friends. Him and I may have our sibling rivalry differences (which amazingly enough are starting to lessen with the introduction of his girlfriend who has completely humanized him. Even one of his lifelong best friends last night said, "Yeah. He's not an asshole now that he's with her." Awww!) but he has legit awesome friends who I have known for years and years, some of them going back to when we were little kids. And they've mostly all now gotten married to super cool girls who I really like too. (Except the one wife I really like and her husband are apparently having lots of issues and he's mentioned divorce, but for seeing them at occasional social events, she's really cool and I hope they work through it.)

It was held at this 70s themed bar that we had to ourselves from 7-10 p.m. Once my mom left, or really before that even, we had some serious fun. I never didn't have a beer in my hand and I spent exactly zero dollars. Considering I arrived at 7:30 with my mom and left at 2:15 with my dad, I HURT today.

There isn't much of a rundown of the party to give, other than it was cool people and lots of chatting but some quotes to frame the evening:

After about twenty minutes at the bar, brother's good friend, "You're a bitch!" Me, "Yeah, you say that like it's a bad thing." "Why you gotta be so meaaaan?" "Awww, Charlie, if I didn't pick on you it would mean I didn't like you. Be glad for that." Mom, "It's true."

Brother's best friend's wife: "We can't be parents yet. Joe and I won't even let the dogs out. They want to pee at 2 a.m.? They can pee in the house. I'd rather deal with it in the morning than get out of bed and let them out. Could you imagine if we had a kid?"

Firefighter friend: "Hey! You know my friend, (Guy that screwed with my head 2 summers ago and is also a firefighter)?" Me, "Yes, of course." FF, "He's still single." Me, withering glare, "Fuuuuuuuuuuck yoooouuu." Grab other firefighter friend, who knows the whole story of all that transpired between me and this guy, "Know what Mike just said to me?! '(Firefighter)'s still single!'" He laughs hysterically.

Standing between Joe and Mike, both married to lovely ladies. Mike, "Yeah, (guy we went to grade school with) still hates me because I hooked up with that girl that was his ex." Me, "Oh yeah! I forgot you hooked up with her! I was there that night...And Joe made out with her best friend! And I stopped hanging out with all those girls because I realized they were using me to get to (brother)'s friends, which is you guys, and for free drinks at bars where I knew the bartenders. You guys are directly responsible for that!" Joe, out of earshot of wife, "Ya know what though? She was a crazy good kisser. She was like really into it. And then I'm still hungover the next morning walking home, you already had the word somehow and I see you and you yell out the window to me, 'Heard you made out with (skanky ho)!' That was fun. Felt like throwing up right then." Me, "Yep. She's married to some dude that's like 15 years older than her and has a 3 year old now." Joe, "Like I give a shit." Love these boys.

Joe, "$60 if you make out with that dude." Me, "Seriously, do you not know me at all? You really don't have to pay me to make out with people. Is this how married people amuse themselves?" 

Mike, "Where'd Sean go?" Me, "He left with a girl." Mike, "Sean? Never. He did not." Me, "I swear to god! He just got in a cab with some girl!" Brother, "No way. Sean does not get in cabs with girls." Me, "Trust me. He's gone." Mike, "Well shit. He was my ride home." Me, "Dude, you live eight blocks from me. We'll take you home."

One of the best things about the night is all the hugs. My brother is not a small person and he does not surround himself with small people and it's just all these big dudes and tall girls and I feel kind of small, which is unusual, with big bear hugs from guys I consider to be like brothers to me. It's the best. 

There were also many not unattractive guys there, who won't come within a thousand feet of me because I'm my brother's sister. (This is how I'm known in SF. Not by my name. They just shout his name, possessive, and then add sister. Love you San Francisco!) Also, the most attractive and adorable guy I talked to, who I had been told was adorable but had never met, happens to be a cop. Sigh. I'd consider amending my no cops policy. If, ya know, I had a chance in hell with this totally adorable dude. Which I don't. Double sigh. (He was in San Diego when I was, but I didn't meet him then, and a certain stepsister of mine totally underplayed his adorableness. But I've also heard he's over the top ridiculous with women in the not understanding relationships and doing stupid things for them and needs the sort of tough touch I can provide. If I had the opportunity.)

I finally changed out of the clothes I wore to the bar on Saturday at about 5 p.m. on Sunday (I keep it classy), just in time to head to a steakhouse for my brother's actual birthday dinner. Since I am broke, I made him about 10 pounds of homemade cookies. I had told his girlfriend, who has a sweet tooth, what I was doing, so when I give them to him, she gets excited and goes to grab them. But funny enough, my brother didn't want to share. Sometimes I do things right. It's rare, but it happens.

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