Glitches

How was your New Year ringing-in?

I had a blast. Then I hit that drinking zone where it all goes down like water. I have a vague recollection of downing a glass of champagne in one shot because someone needed an empty glass (I was going to wash it), and then not knowing where the extra champagne glass (it was really a martini glass) came from. Not too long after, that hit me... or maybe it was the 4 or 5 gin martini (min 3oz each) variations, or the other glasses of champagne, or whatever else I may have drank.

Naw, it was the downed glass.

I'm not sure how long I was in the washroom before someone came to rescue me, but it was too long to be considered polite on my part. Granted, it was dry heaves, and I'm very courteous when misusing a friend's facilities. One well-placed comment had me up on my feet and on the couch with water in-hand, beginning my recovery.

I don't remember how the light saber got to someone else, but they needed it.

My very bestest friend got me home, fed my cats so they wouldn't eat me in my sleep, and left me to my own devices, which at this point were starting to click back into place. Combined with some pre-departure prep (close the blinds now, turn off the alarms, make sure there's plenty of water in the Brita, etc.) I might have seemed relatively capable when I poured myself under the covers.

Later in that first day of 2010, I was even able to stumble around and drag a brush across my teeth, pour a pint glass full of water, and toast up a bagel. Granted, I had the cream cheese half on before I realized I hadn't yet toasted the frozen thing.

It took 3 hours to eat that bagel, between naps and lying down to fight off the nausea. But the NHL Winter Classic looked pretty awesome at Fenway Park in HD. Shame they couldn't get the fans closer. But when the sun was setting and the players' shadows were cast across the ice, it reminded me of my childhood days on frozen lakes. You know, if I lived near a lake, it froze, and I could skate, none of which would be true. Still, the imagery was strong enough that some Canadian genetic memory must have kicked in.

After around 11pm, and many hours of extra sleep, I was able to stay upright for extended periods of time. So I stayed up until 4am or so. I even enjoyed some homemade chai tea that previously mentioned bestest friend made me for Christmas. Of course, I forgot the tea part, but the chai part was awesome.

Saturday was nearly normal. Up at the crack of 1:30pm, and plans for a "Not New Years" party that evening. I lazed about for a few hours, watched the latest Doctor Who special, and felt sad that David Tennant was leaving.

Off to the party, which started off like we were a group of strangers trying to make small talk instead of friends who had known each other for, in some cases, nearly 20 years. Eventually though, once the kid went to bed (5 is an odd age, do we have to start watching our language now? What topics can she begin to understand? Do her parents care?), conversation picked up as normal.

I got home around 3:30am, and hit my floor button on the elevator. I'm sure I did. I was stone sober, and not that tired. I hit the right floor.

The door opened, I walked out and noticed that my neighbours had a wreath on their door. Odd that I hadn't noticed it before.

I walked to my door, and there was a Santa hanging on my door. I *KNOW* I didn't have one of those, and my first thought was "Did someone randomly put up Christmas decorations on people's doors?" Then I looked at the number. I was one floor too high. No... I knew I hit the right number. I'm a creature of habit and never go to that number floor anywhere.

So I walked back to the elevators and hit the down button. The light turned off, and the door opened.

Except it didn't.

It sounded like it opened, and the button reacted like it opened, but the door was still closed. I hit the button again. The light turned off and the door opened.

Except it didn't.

I touched the door to make sure I wasn't insane. Nope, it wasn't open. Only the inner door of the elevator was opening, but the outer one wasn't catching.

Busted elevator.

But you know that chill down your spine when things aren't right? I had that. My head went to that "maybe you're dreaming" state of feeling. I hit the button again. Nada.

So I walked to the stairwell and cautiously opened the door, half-expecting a deranged madman to be waiting for me, hook for hand and teeth gnashing. But the stairs were empty. I quickly walked down a floor and turned to my door. Double-checked the number and walked in, where I was greeted by my cats.

So at least I knew I was home. But the haze in my brain remained. I chalked it up to my odd hours, fed the cats, and crawled into bed.

Up at the crack of 3:30pm Sunday, I was still a bit off-kilter. It was dad's birthday, so I had places to be in a few hours. I managed to waste more time than I had playing games and futzing with some new Photoshop plugins, and neglected to do minor things like eat or drink.

This might have contributed to the feeling of disconnect I was experiencing, and the sense of needing more sleep despite getting a dozen hours of the stuff.

Night was uneventful, except I forgot gifts again, but remembered butter. Home, waste time until 3am, try to sleep, alarms go off, and I'm strangely tired for only 4 hours of sleep (note: not strange). Up, out, and the subway announcement experiencing a Doppler Effect reminded me that 2010 is going to be a little bit odd. Maybe they're trying to make contact already...

It Can't Be Monday

That was my thought as I went to bed last night and set my alarms. Half of me still believed the weekend couldn't possibly be over. It was the same thought as the alarms went off this morning. I lay in bed debating if it really WAS Monday or not. When I finally determined it was, I still refused to accept it. Sitting now at my desk, this still seems a remote possibility.

But, it's Monday. The weekend flew by, despite my nearly 6 hours in traffic on Saturday.

From the west end of Toronto to Niagara Falls is around a 1.5 hour drive. An hour on a good day. It took me 3.5 hours to get to the Seneca Casino on the other side of the Canada-US border. Traffic for miles for no apparent reason. Moron after moron on the road, driving slowly on the left side, a wide-open right lane, drifting into my lane without checking a blind spot or using a blinker (since I was often passing them at the time). Many were also deaf as the guy leaning on his horn (me) alongside them didn't seem to make them realize they WERE ABOUT TO HIT ME. It was absolutely no surprise to me when there was a 5-car accident on the way back.

The border wait didn't improve my mood. The trunk search (it's completely empty) only aggravated me more. The families of 12 crossing ON A RED FUCKING LIGHT WHILE I WAS DRIVING TOWARDS THE INTERSECTION nearly pushed me to a vehicular killing spree, but I had no desire to end up in one of those filthy US prisons I've heard so much about. The card death at the table seemed fitting. Up $35 after 2.5 hours (and what should have been around 5).

VinNay had a much better time. Next time - he comes across the border.

But, I picked up my DVDs from our Buffalonian friend and made it back across without incident (which annoyed me because I spent 10 minutes hiding DVDs around my car, but better to not be searched than searched and found out I suppose). I was looking to be just a little late for a friend's birthday dinner, until I discovered that all lanes on the highway were closed at about the halfway point home. So I turned off, grabbed some fast food (a donut will not sustain you for a whole day, not even if it's boston cream), and debated on detours. You'd think a tourist office would have a decent map available.

Detour determined, the ride home wasn't too bad, but took about half an hour longer than hoped, which meant I completely missed the dinner. I felt bad. But I did make it for post-dinner festivities.

Sunday was much more relaxed, brunch with the family for my brother's birthday, chilling out at home watching movies with my best friend, and then driving them home afterwards.

I could have hit 5 different cyclists on that drive and been exonerated of all charges on each of them. People on bikes in the big city are FUCKING MORONS. There are LAWS for bike riding, FOLLOW THEM YOU STUPID FUCKS. Instead of flipping me the bird when I honk at you for running a stop sign and turning left from the right side IN FRONT OF MY MOVING CAR without giving any sort of signal on your bikes without any reflective surfaces and then taking up the whole road - why don't you realize that I could have crushed you under my wheels and slept soundly that night without fear of prosecution because you'd be 100% at fault?

I love biking. I think the city needs more people on bikes. I also think they need to be licensed and held responsible for following the rules like any other vehicle-user. This has been a shitty summer for bike behaviour here.

So yah, it can't be Monday, because the weekend was far too aggravating for it to be over.

Pie, Two Movies, and Lightning

This was one of those rare weekends that felt longer than it was. In a good way.

Friday saw me heading out of the office as quickly as possible. I got home with JUST enough time to finish a slab pie I'd started a couple days before. The filling and dough was done, it just had to be rolled out, combined, and baked. Oh, and the filling involved 2 cups of sour cherries, 2 cups of bing cherries, and two cups (total) of wild Nova Scotia blueberries and frozen Ontario strawberries that I'd picked earlier in the summer.

It's pretty delicious.

Why the time limit? I had a movie to go see - GI Joe.

Yup, GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra, on opening night. Why? Well, if you have to ask, you didn't sit 3ft in front of your TV after school waiting for that theme song in your youth.

I went in properly prepared. My brain was sitting in a jar back home. I wanted two things - red and blue lasers, and someone to say "Yo Joe!". Both wishes were fulfilled.

I suggested to my friends at dinner beforehand that the movie would be awesome. It wouldn't be a GOOD movie by any stretch, but it would be awesome.

And it was. I ignored anything like dialogue, editing, physics, or reality, and enjoyed two hours of straight up action and ass-kicking. It was an EXCELLENT GI Joe movie. Any critic who calls it crap was already old when the cartoons were on. Their GI Joe memories are of 9" tall solider dolls, not 5" action figures whose torsos you twisted until they popped off. Sommers did exactly what was needed - he made a popcorn flick that was nothing but FUN. Plot getting in the way of the movie? Throw in a ninja fight. Just had a ninja fight? More cleavage. The ninjas were fighting in front of cleavage? Time to blow some shit up. Ninjas were fighting in front of cleavage during an explosion? Blow up a polar ice cap, or melt a landmark.

And there is no doubt a sequel is being made.

I tire of those who hold their 80's television memories as sacrosanct - go and find some video of those shows. They were, almost universally, TERRIBLE. To expect a movie based on them to be a work of art is ridiculous.

Early to bed (3am-ish) and early to rise (3pm-ish) makes a man... well, very well-rested. 3pm was about as late as I COULD stay in bed, as a buddy was coming over at 6 to grab some dinner and catch another movie. This time? The Hangover. Yah, I'm late to the game on this one, but... DAMN is that one funny movie.

I fired off the e-mail on Friday to my usual December Vegas posse (or entourage, or what have you) about getting this year's trip ready. Seeing the start of Vegas in The Hangover had me turn to my friend and say "I want to go NOW." By the end of the movie, E was a bit afraid I'd developed a few new ideas for this year's trip. He's so ending up in the hands of Asian gangsters.

Another early night (3am) led to another early day (12:45pm due to a phone call). Sunday was chill. Hung out, played poker, watched TV, made dinner.

And watched one hell of a lightning storm.

I had originally been awaken around 10:30am by room-shaking bursts of thunder. I fell back asleep, and when I was up for real, the day looked fine. By the time I was making dinner, the skies were alight again. Flashes in the periphery followed by the sound of the sky cracking open. Another truly monumental summer storm was upon us. Regular breaks from pizza assembly were taken to try and catch a fork in the distance between the surrounding buildings. It started to die down, and dinner was completed and consumed.

Then it started up again. To the roof! In my bare feet! Why? Well, I figured the wet roof of a 15 storey building with no insulator between me and ground had to be the safest method of watching lightning. An umbrella was brought too, for extra safety.

None of that is a lie, except for the part where I actually thought ANY of that was remotely safe.

As soon as I set foot on the roof, a bolt shot off in the distance, sparking a series of other streaks spiderwebbing across the sky above. It was possibly the coolest lightning display I'd ever seen.

And it happened half a dozen more times over the next 20 minutes.

The sky didn't stop lighting up. It was as if the country surrounding my city was being bombed while a war with electricity was being fought overhead. The nearly complete lack of rain only added to this effect. To witness such a violent storm without getting wet was an oddity to me.

Convinced the storm was too far to take advantage of the world's tallest free-standing lightning rod, I kept following where the flashes were.

Then the tree of electricity opened up over south end of the city, with a branch deciding it needed to arc down and nail the beloved tower. For seconds afterwards, the sky was scattered with the after-image of lightning forks as my eyes adjusted to the blinding white that had just taken place less than a mile away, and less than a mile up. The fact this was also the first clap of thunder that had been made during the roof foray drove home the point that the storm wasn't quite gone yet.

The sky continued to sputter and spark silently, and I continued to be captivated. After the Tower bolt, I was also constantly checking the hairs on my arms to make sure I wasn't about to be struck myself. In the distance, likely the steel mills of Hamilton, bolts were raining down as if Zeus had decided that he was on the side of the NHL owners and was going to destroy the city himself. Streaks yellowed by the smog and clouds would strike and remain for what seemed like seconds before disappearing. To the south, St. Catherine's, Niagara Falls, and Buffalo looked like they were getting bombarded with white fire.

Eventually, it started to fade. The streaks and forks became fewer, replaced only with flashes and sheets of brightness in the distance. It was time to return to the far less exciting world of my living room, and call it a weekend.

May I suggest you visit here for an idea of the view. He's a little bit east of me, so it's not a dissimilar view. And this was a regular occurence during my time on the roof. I only wish I'd have grabbed my tripod and camera too.

How Do Two Days Go So Fast?

It was the weekend. It was a good weekend too. I just, as often, wish it felt longer.

Friday went off-plan when my friend and I gave up on the idea of catching a Rocky-Horror-esque movie/play thing due to the rush line being around the corner over TWO hours before showtime. Instead we wandered to Little Italy, found a solid restaurant with a great drink selection and nice back patio, and spent a few hours eating and drinking and generally having more fun than standing in line. I capped off the night with a pricing error in my favour at a local music store, leaving with a little Stevie Wonder and a mispriced Simon & Garfunkel Old Friends tour DVD, which is still one of the best shows I've seen.

Saturday was restocking the pantry. Costco, farmers market, and then back home. 2 litres (8 cups) of raspberry jam, a couple mojitos, marinated (barolo vinegar, bourbon, dijon, oil, and spices) bone-in ribeyes on the grill, bad red wine (trying to work through the cheap old stock - this might be a mistake), kebobs, and grilled mashed potatoes later (best friend's idea - mash 'em, wrap 'em in foil with garlic and butter, put on grill - very good) and it could be called a filling and satisfying day.

Sunday involved poker. Naturally, I was running late, and arrived 35 minutes after "start" time... to a table with 3 other people around it. The turnout has been suffering at the home game. The bigger issue is that the host is getting 9-15 affirmatives up to the night before, and then 50% of the people actually show. Last game only had 6. I finished 2nd, which was good for... well, points. Winner-take-all for only 4 people. It wasn't the most satisfying live poker I've played by a long-shot.

The route back home takes me past the folks', so I stopped in to say hi and eat their food. In return I took home more food, kitchen supplies, astronomical binoculars from my grandparents' place and the HUGE tripod that came with them (nearly 6' extended, probably 6'6" with the centre column raised). The tripod could come in handy photography-wise, except it's heavy and gigantic, so not exactly easy transport. What it really does is swing my monopod or tripod decision firmly over to the monopod side for travel purposes. I mean, if it's good enough for Flipchip, who am I to question?

Saying hi and staying for dinner also means dessert, tea, and hanging around chatting for a bit. I pulled myself away, got home, and decided the bunches of mint in my fridge needed to be used immediately. There's a pitcher of julep iced tea in my fridge now, along with a jar of mint simple syrup.

And tonight? I should probably have some more of the roasted tomato cream soup I made last week, and use at least one of the fantastic sausages I picked up on Saturday before tossing the rest in the freezer. Chipotle with beer and onions (that would all be in the sausage) or red hot chorizo with red wine? Any bets on how long before I buy a meat grinder and sausage casings?

Man, I Suck

Mookie, 45 man NLHE SnG, and $5k last night. No cash in any. No brilliant plays. A couple fantastic catches to save my ass, but more completely expected screw-jobs by the board to kick it.

I need some live play.

Oh, that's right... I'll be doing that on Sunday.

If I didn't have plans already, I might have done it drunkenly on Saturday in NY, but alas, someone only notified me 4 days beforehand.

Actually, it's a weekend I'm looking forward to. Rocky Horror-esque movie-watching for Toronto's Fringe (*IF* rush tix can be got... stupid nobody telling me about this stuff beforehand. What, I'm supposed to look it up myself?), restocking the ol' pantry (hey, when you cook as much as I do, that qualifies as enjoyable), more jam (raspberry this time - much easier), grilling some meat, drinking some wine (that can't be a problem with muscle relaxants, can it?), live poker, and general merriment. All with a fucked back.

Right, the back. Anyone following me on Twitter (link's up to the left) is well-versed in my whining the past few days. Whatever I did to my back two weeks ago is back with a vengeance after pretty much fading away. Standing up, be it from a chair or bed, is excrutiatingly painful. Bending over? Really depends how much moving around I've been doing beforehand. In short - being still leads to extreme lower back pain when I decide to move. Constantly moving seems to ease it. Go figure. Naturally, my doctor is on vacation, so my appointment with him is in 2 weeks. In the meantime? Robaxacet, ice, and various pillows in various places. But not there... those aren't pillows.

Wine and Powerwalking

Have an [insert appropriate adjective for a day of remembrance] Memorial Day my Yankee friends. I envy you your long weekend, even though I had one last week.

Really, I think every weekend from mid-May to Labour Day should be a long weekend. Think of the money companies would save!

The rest of this is all about my weekend drinking wine and eating finger foods. Move along if you wish.

Regardless of the normalcy of my weekend's length, I made the most of it. I headed over to Niagara-On-The-Lake for their Herb and Wine festival. No, not that herb. Although I admit it would have been interesting if someone had paired a Gewurztraminer with some brownies or cookies...

The thing about visiting wine country is it's hard to not return with wine. I added 12 bottles to my fridge, and that was due to extraordinary restraint. I could have picked up a discounted case of pre-release Chardonnay, but Hillebrand's staff put me in a less-than-happy mood when, as a wine club member, I asked when their collector's room would be open (they were running a class at the time), and was told "in a few minutes". Half an hour later, the class let out, I asked again, and was told another half hour. Fuck that. If they'd told me an hour when I first asked, I would have left, checked out some other wineries, maybe a restaurant, and returned.

Which wasn't the first time a major winery in the area annoyed me on the trip. Peller (Hillebrand's sister) acted like I was some schlub off the street when I came in on Saturday. Granted, I looked like some schlub off the street, having been walking from winery to winery that afternoon (15km later, I collapsed on the hotel bed), and it was sunny and warm. Regardless, being ignored by the tasting staff until I waved them down, and the look of incredulity about my membership wasn't welcome. They redeemed themselves the next day via their chef's friendly attitude as we tried his black pepper ice cream on a pickled peach and horseradish compote, which paired nicely with their Ice Cuvée.

But the smaller wineries impressed. Marynissen, Cattail Creek, Lailey (although they also annoyed me when I first came in, 10 minutes after they stopped serving the Wine and Herb pairing for Saturday), Joseph's, Palantine Hill, Strewn, and Maleta were standouts.

Of the medium and larger wineries, Stratus blew me away, Southbrook, Konzelmann, and Peller all had impressive offerings.

The biggest disappointments were the rest of the big boys. Jackson-Triggs was as unexciting as possible, Hillebrand was uninspired and uninspiring, Inniskillin wasn't terrible, but did nothing as a pairing (although I did buy a bottle of the Klose Cabernet Sauvignon), and Château des Charmes was fine, but was more of an ad for their aligoté jelly and the Anna Olson's crackers than it was a pairing experience.

A full list of the 21 wineries and their offerings is here, they're only running one more weekend, so if you want to go, this is your last chance.

My personal favourites in terms of pairings were Cattail Creek, Startus, Palantine Hill, Peller, Joseph's, Marynissen, and Lailey. There are a lot of whites (only 4 reds) in the program, but you can of course taste any of their other available wines while you're there, and a lot of them are worth it.

If nothing else, it was another eye-opening Niagara trip. When they started making wines there, they were unbearably sweet, mostly white, and until they started making icewine, seen as unimpressive. Since then, they've improved their process and quality immensely. Complex flavours, dry whites, natural sweetness, and some real effort by some creative vinters is producing some excellent wines. The 2007's are out now, and everyone there agrees that it was probably the best year they've ever had for wines. Good chance to stock up.

So Close

First, the good on the weekend.

Saturday was a great day. Up, quick and easy and tasty breakfast, and the afternoon was spent wandering the AGO for the first time since the renovation. My friend and I opted to buy the Contributing membership - the selling point was the "bring 2 guests for free every time". The reciprocal membership to galleries all over Canada and the States is nice too, but I doubt I'll be anywhere near those cities before the membership needs to be renewed.

The AGO is great. Love the changes, love the size. The last time I went, with the same friend, we left disappointed. The place seemed small, and they had to rotate their collection due to lack of space. This meant that favourite pieces were no longer being displayed. This time though, they had galleries to spare. We spent hours and only got through the first floor. We did take the new staircases all the way up and down, but outside of wandering the contemporary galleries very briefly, didn't really see the rest of the displays. Which is fine, the place isn't going anywhere. We finished by visiting the member's lounge and enjoying a couple coffees (espresso for her, cappuccino for me), which were dirt cheap in a great setting. Sitting in the window looking out at Grange Park removed any doubts about the membership. The cute, friendly staff doesn't hurt either.

From there we grabbed some dinner at Harlem. Before Friday, we'd never heard of the place, but it was quite good. Drinks were solid, food was well done (ribs were a bit too sweet for my taste), and the ambience was relaxing. I'm pretty sure it was the owner who greeted us and kept checking in, and he knew how to make people feel welcome.

Then off to Lewis Black. Damn, he's funny. Nearly two hours of ranting, politicizing, and pointing out any number of stupidities in the world. He even handled the "contributors" from the audience well, shutting up the few who felt the need to add their own jokes (not heckling, just assuming they were witty enough to be heard). Hard to believe he's 60.

Finally, Beer Bistro to finish. A couple decent brews (Ephémère and La Roja), solid conversation, and called it a night. One full day.

Sunday I woke up in time for the Brit game. First one I've remembered during the BBT. I rolled over the game for the most part, knocking out at least 5 or 6 people. Decent hands, (AA twice for those keeping score), play I was happy with, in first place from shortly after the first break onwards, with twice the chips of second place at one point, and then we got down to 3. I went fucking limp. I basically backed off, let Pushmonkey catch up, and then played like a pussy until I went out on a shitty hand in a shitty situation. So close to a seat. I don't know who won between Muhctim and Push, but I'm sure it was a decent HU match. Nobody to blame by myself for that one. When I should have been forcing my opponents to decide, I was sitting back and waiting for... what? I haven't a clue.

Did We Spring Forward A Day?

Gah! How'd it get to be Monday already?

The weekend went a touch differently than originally expected.

Original plan:

Dinner for friend's 30th on Friday, skip the clubbing, relatively early night home.
Head north and ski all day Saturday
Recover Sunday

Actual occurence:

Dinner for friend's 30th on Friday, skip the clubbing, go out and meet up with more friends for drinks. Miss the last train southbound by about 7 minutes (no biggie, it's only a 20 minute walk). Later meeting with friends was due to the fact two of them were getting hitched on Saturday and then moving to Australia (Melbourne, what's with that place?) on Sunday.

6 degrees and rain in ski country after days of the same do not make for good downhill conditions. I tried to make alternate plans for Saturday - first was poker @ Niagara - no go. Then craps @ Niagara - no go. I called up my best friend and asked if she wanted to finally go to the ROM before it fell down. She said sure and off we went. The "new" addition to the place is horrible from the outside. It looks like a big aluminum-siding iceberg smashed into the beautiful old stone and brick edifice that has long stood there. From the right angle, it looks like a giant Jawa transport (hence the lightsabre duels that occasionally take place in front of it). I had heard inside was no better... I was disappointed even then. Plain, boring, white, cheap, and getting dirty... the epitome of boring and overbudget. I imagine it will be torn down in a decade and maybe something that isn't an unoriginal piece of shit will be built in place of the "crystal".

That said, I did like the Trypilian exhibit that's in town until the 22nd. The gems collection and Egyptian book of the dead were also cool. The diamonds exhibit was a waste of time unless you've never read a single thing about diamonds. Fairly rudimentary facts mixed in with boring geological information (which I knew from my years of dating a Mineral Engineering student). Some unexciting examples, and a few nice pieces. I'd have liked more on the newer man-made diamonds, which I think will eventually really shake up the market on stones, but this thing was sponsored by De Beers, so no chance of that.

The previous night, the bride-to-be insisted I come to their wedding on Saturday. See, I'd received an announcement, but there was no formal invitation. This was largely a ceremony to make life in Australia easier (they've been together over 6 years, so it was going to happen eventually anyway). The "real" reception would be when they returned in 2010. I've known the husband I've known for 17 years (although we only reconnected 3 1/2 years ago), so I said I'd make the gathering at his parent's place, but would likely miss the ceremony at city hall. The fact the other two people that were there who I've known for just as long, if not longer (one I met nearly 20 years ago), also insisted I come helped the cause.

So, after wrapping up at the museum and grabbing a quick burrito, I headed home to change into my fancy clothes. I walked in the door, said hi to the cats, and promptly fell asleep for a quick nap. An hour later I shot straight up, yelled "SHIT!" and forgot what I was late for. Two minutes later it came back to me, I swore again, and ran around. The gathering at the folks' place, in the west end, started in 30 minutes, and it was at least a 20 minute drive, and I hadn't even BEGUN to get ready. I rushed around and was out the door in 45 minutes. I wasn't sweating it too much, because it wasn't a formal dinner or anything, just some food, and friends, and family. Traffic sucked, the rain sucked, and I opted to take a route that probably added 15 minutes to my commute. I was displeased with myself, and walked in the front door a bit wet, and bit out of place (as the family didn't know who I was... 17 years and I never met his dad, go figure). It was all okay though, as a hug from the bride, handshake from the groom, and acknowledgement from the handful of people I did know put aside any thoughts that I was a party-crasher.

It was a good time, with people I rarely get to see, and a really fun and easy-going family. Also, one of those families that you know somehow got it right. The kids are all happy, the grandkids are well-behaved and the "perfect" kids (my friend's neice is 7 or 8 and gave me hope for future generations), and if there are family feuds, they were very well hidden. I said my goodbyes to the happy couple, and said I may actually take them up on their offer to visit. I hear there's a blogger or two down under, as well as a casino. Plus, I'm aiming to be in Israel in August, so I'll already have made half the journey...

Sunday held to plan, as I slept in until after 3, never got dressed, and spent the day on the couch with a laptop and remote for the TV. Strangely, I slept like shit last night having woken up late and done nothing all day.