Whew, whirlwind weekend. Quick recap:
The Official Parents came up to visit for the day last Friday. They saw the apartment, a little of the neighborhood, and the office. They got a bit of an idea of what my job is like (i.e. how crazy the workplace environment is - and it wasn't even a busy day!). We had lunch in Koreatown and wandered up to Times Square so Mom could go watch shopping. They got a little slice of the New York experience - they saw mariachis on the L train, a crazy guy shouting profanities on 14th street, got turned around in the Union Square subway station, braved the crowds in Times Square, and got worn out going up and down all those stairs to the train stations. Dad referred to Mom and himself as "country bumpkins" at one point. I shrugged it all off, saying "it's not that bad once you get used to it." All in all a good time.
Friday morning Sam called me up, letting me know that the bachelor party/shindig for his brother Will (one of my best friends, getting married in less than two weeks, I'm in the wedding) was scheduled for Saturday night in Philly. My thoughts? "Fuck." I had to work 5 am to 1 pm on Saturday and again on Sunday. In fact, I had told one of my managers that I would be coming in at 4 on Sunday to rearrange the frozen dessert section of the freezer (is that redundant?), making a potential trip to Philadelphia for the evening highly problematic. After a bit of cajoling by Zach, I consented on Friday night. I got about 5 hours of sleep Friday, worked a normal day on Saturday, came home, got a bite to eat, then left with Zach around 3:15 to catch a 4:15 Jersey Transit train to Trenton, picking up the SEPTA from there to Philly. We got into 30th Street Station around 6:30, met up with Tom and Sam, and went to fetch Will. Saturday also happened to be Will's birthday. We went to a Tapas bar and restaurant and proceeded to wolf down plate after plate of dazzlingly tasty treats, half of which I have no idea what they were. All I can be sure of is that I had Apple Foam at one point. I also can say for certain now that if God (or any deity for that matter) had a bar, Marcona Almonds would be the bar nuts. Sweet merciful crap it was good. It was also the first time that the old gang - me, Will, Tom, and Zach - had all been together in at least a couple of years, I think. It was great to spend an evening sitting around and talking, making fun of each other, and occasionally delving into heated political arguments again. Just like old times. We were also chatted up a couple of times by an extremely drunk woman outside smoking cigarettes (we were outside, despite the rain, underneath an overhang) who somehow managed to keep herself from falling over and claimed to be the cousin of a member of the Arcade Fire. Afterwards we went bowling. Neither Tom nor I had either our balls or our shoes (Tom didn't even have socks...fucking hippie) but we weren't overly concerned. I couldn't find a ball that fit my thumb however, and after two games it was swelling up something awful (my thumb, not the ball) and beginning to hurt like hell. At that point I had to leave, anyways - I was due to catch a 12:15 train back to New York. Which I did. I got back to Penn Station around 2, got home around 2:45, took a shower, got dressed, then headed into work. Lets just say I was a little sluggish Sunday morning - but I made it through the day. It was touch and go for a while, but I got out alive. I promptly went home and slept for twelve hours.
One of my roommates had borrowed my copy of Final Fantasy VII months ago, well before she moved in. I found it lying around last week and began playing it where I had left off my last run through like a year ago. I was at a point where I wasn't paying any attention to the story, instead making the game my total bitch. I have spent an inordinate amount of spare time the past week running my little guys around and beating the crap out of anything that happens to come my way, cackling maniacally the whole time. Livvy and Zach seem to be a little wary of it all. I don't blame them. But in all honesty, it's quite a bit of fun to completely destroy something every now and then, if only to get it out of your system. And I mean that in the most constructively destructive way possible.
Also, when I woke up this morning I had Rod Stewart singing "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy" stuck in my head. It wasn't playing on anything like a radio or a stereo, it was just there bouncing around when I woke up. It's been driving me completely bonkers. Seriously, of all possible songs why that one? I just don't understand myself sometimes.