09
Jan
11

First weekend down

Well it was my first weekend without the nectar and to be quite honest, it sucked.  First, I have these five delicious Modelo’s left over in my fridge which seem to call my name late a night.  Like the sirens from Greek mythology these sweet, sweet beers sing a song that taunts me in my sleep.  No, I’ve romanticized it a little but they do look damn good after a day’s hard work.

We started the weekend by driving up to Glendale to visit some old friends from my neighborhood. Their daughter lives out here and has just had a baby so the whole family was in town.  I actually lived with this family for a brief period before I moved in with my grandparents.  Back in those days I had a bad haircut and a real bad attitude and I was pretty surprised that this family was so excited to see me again.Anyway, Katherine and I arrived and were immediately greeted with hugs and kisses.  After the initial hello, I was offered a drink. “Mike could I get you a beer, some wine, a mixed drink?”  Fuck, I haven’t seen these people in twenty years and the last time I did I was a little criminal — now, I have to decline a drink.  They are going to think I turned into this raging alcoholic over the years and was turning tricks for booze and now I’ve found God and a wife and am living clean and sober. I immediately started to go into a ten-minute explanation of the blog and what I am doing.  I was talking fast, sweating, the youngest daughter, just seventeen, was looking at me with suspicious eyes. Jesus, I swear, I can have a beer, I’m choosing! After what seemed like hours of stammering and trying to not seem like an alcoholic, I sounded like a drug addict, and all I got was, “How about a coke?”

The night was wonderful and filled with a lot of stories and laughs.  As the others had a few bottles of wine I pounded water like it was going out of style.  At one point, I became self-conscious of how many times I left the table to piss. It was good for Katherine to hear some of my childhood stories from someone else because I think sometimes she doesn’t believe half the shit I tell her.  Close to midnight we had to split.  I had boot camp the next morning and was already beginning to dread the new day. We drove home happy, young and in love, but like the eve of a court date from my youth I woke up throughout the night with anticipation of Trent and his gym of horrors.

Saturday morning was tough.  Trent has agreed to let me bring my camera so I can document some of the crazy shit he has us doing.  After I got home, Katherine invited me to go on a hike in Palos Verdes with our friend Maggie. Palos Verdes is this beautiful hill/mountain south of Redondo, which has houses, trails, golf courses etc. See the below picture, Palos Verdes is the hill in the back round.I was a little tired but I figured what the hell, I like girls and hikes.  Maggie is from Philadelphia too, but I didn’t know her back east.  It is always nice to spend some time with someone from home, out here. We can talk about what we miss but also about what we have now and appreciate. We spent the late morning and early afternoon hiking out by Trump National Golf Course.  We hiked about four miles and by the end of it I was starting to get pretty tired and hungry. Unfortunately, when I get hungry I get really moody, really quickly.  The girls conversation had turned to girly shit and I was literally in the back seat starving to death, grumpy and now grossed the fuck out.  We stopped at this little two-man panini joint and after Katherine and Maggie ordered their food and cappuccinos, this fucking douche-bag proceeded to make the cappuccinos before taking my sandwich order and giving all three orders to the kitchen.  Why the fuck would you make the drinks first?  Take the orders, hand them to the kitchen so he can get started, then make the five-minute cappuccinos.  My face must have been priceless because I was about to rip this guys face off.

Saturday night was pretty quiet.  Katherine and I went to see The Tourist. It was the first time in a long time we went to see a movie without sneaking a bottle of wine in. We got there late and had to sit in the second row.  Basically, I inspected Angelina’s lips all night and they are simply flawless and delicious. I was torn between keeping an eye on her butt all night or looking at beautiful Venice.  In the end, her butt won out, but please beautiful Venice, you run a close second.

One weekend down and fifteen to go.  My first event out went very well and I have to admit, after the initial declining of a drink, it wasn’t that bad.  I was my normal charming self without the late-night slurring, loud singing to Guns-n-Roses as Katherine drives home, and two-day hangover.  It was pretty nice…and I am sure, appreciated by all.

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