The Surprise Long Weekend

This whole short week thing is really throwing me off. I actually wasn't expecting a long weekend until halfway through the day Sunday, when my boss sent me an email saying, "since I won't see you tomorrow, put this on the list for Tuesday." I'm very fortunate in that my company draws time off from a single earned bank, and I've banked an embarrassing amount of time over the past few years (I tend to take more long weekends and fewer full-week vacations). So, when I get offered a day off to reflect on the words of MLK and clean my house, I take it!

Back to Friday. Normally, I'd be sprinting out of work at 5 to the gym and getting my zen on -- my favorite instructor just added a Friday night vinyasa-and-meditation class that ends with a 15-minute savasana, complete with warm towels and soothing music with a lot of lutes, so I've been frequenting that every chance I get. Unfortunately, I was forced to miss this week's class due to another much-anticipated event: the winter Bruce in the USA show.

BRUUUUCE

For those who don't know, Bruce in the USA is, indeed, a Springsteen cover band. They're pretty good in their own right, but for me, the best part about their shows is watching the insanity that is Andrew and his friends having a good time. For some perspective, their Boston show last winter coincided with Blizzard Nemo, in which we received two feet of snow and there were literally people skiing the streets of Boston. Combine the aftereffects of a good Blizzard Party (I feel horrendously sorry for those of you who haven't had the opportunity to experience such an event), a driving ban, a brunch that began and ended with mulled mead and the prospect of a Bruce cover band on the horizon, and you get this:

Yep. That's a keg being carried by four guys down the middle of the road. In a blizzard. Which is technically not an okay thing to do, but when there's a driving ban and the manager of the packie says it's fine, then it's really best to just go with it.

So, those were my Friday night plans. Given that it's still Drynuary, I had a particularly unique perspective from which to enjoy this show, and it did not disappoint. To sum it up in haiku form:

We made a small sign.

The band played "Trapped" just for us.

Many high-fives were had.

For some reason, Cambridge doesn't have the archaic rules that Boston does regarding concerts ending by 11, so I was surprised to not end up in bed until just after 1am. I had been hoping to get in a 9-miler early Saturday morning, but it was raining and cold and if I'm being totally honest, I was still incredibly sore from Thursday night's Group Power class and just couldn't get on board with the idea of making my poor legs move for an hour and a half. Instead, I housed a cup of coffee and then Andrew and I set off for Coolidge Corner, where he got a haircut, I got a tin of cashews and we headed to the Coolidge Corner Theater to view some of last year's Sundance Shorts.

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Maybe I'm just not "artsy" enough, but I didn't really get the appeal of most of the films. The one about cat sex was funny and incredibly awkward, and the one depicting a jazz band's rehearsal definitely brought back memories of high school wind ensemble (we'll get to that sometime in the future), but neither one of them really screamed, "THIS IS GOOD, PRIZE-WORTHY ART!" Then there was one about an old guy describing a series of pictures he took over an extended period of time in a gritty little fishing town, but he lost me after the third monotonous iteration of, "of course, David didn't get to see this, for he was, of course, drowned at sea." {SPOILER ALERT}. There was one animated winner that involved a severed foot and a journey down a windy path which I initially thought was about the Holocaust, but then there was some random stick figure porn thrown in so I'm pretty sure I was way off the mark there. Oh well.

I DID like the heavy-handed parable about commercialism and its impact on the environment, as well as a claymation-type short about antique Irish furniture. The latter reminded me of my grandparents, who have countless little representations of thatched Irish houses adorning their home which I always admired but did not, in fact, realize were our family's ACTUAL HOUSES until my Papa told Andrew on his first visit to their house. No one ever tells the women anything.

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My favorite short was the one called "K.I.T.," which I only liked because it was essentially the story of my life. The protagonist is a neurotic, socially-awkward, generally attractive female in her late 20s who finds herself word-vomiting to her neighborhood grocery cashier who appears to be some sort of hipster-cum-catlady. The protagonist's odd little diatribe ends up in her inviting the cashier to hang out sometime, which segues into the two of them sitting at a cafe table and making even more awkward small talk. The protagonist then goes home and gives her boyfriend a play-by-play of the friend-date, ultimately talking herself into believing that the cashier was offended by her attempts to make conversation and leading her to issue another invitation to hang out so that she can make things right by talking her feelings to death. In an attempt to apologize for any offense she might have committed during their previous meeting, she continues to backhand compliment the cashier, who is clearly thinking, "what the hell is this woman talking about?" while wearing overalls and a cape. This cycle continues until the protagonist slowly drives both herself and her boyfriend insane, and by the end Andrew was poking me in the ribs with his elbow while I tried to suppress the kind of giggles that only a mirror can induce.

Here I am on an awkward friend date in 2004. Thankfully, my experience was better and now I'm in her wedding party.

Of course, as soon as the lights went up, I started worrying that my giggles had offended the guy sitting in front of me. Also, it figured that my favorites were the ones that didn't actually win anything. See? Story. of. my. life.

The rest of my weekend was pretty quiet. Saturday night we ordered in and had a screening of the Season One finale of Veronica Mars (Andrew wanted to watch the series before the movie comes out since, as a proud Kickstarter Backer, I plan on going to the first possible showing in my tshirt, and he wanted to know what he got himself into) -- and I was amazed because Andrew actually figured out the stunning conclusion before I did when I initially watched it, and that NEVER happens!

Sunday I went food shopping and then took a quick 5-miler just to shake out my legs and tack at least a FEW miles onto my week, since I'm considering doing a half in a few weeks just to keep myself honest. I made it home with 10 minutes to spare before the AFC Championship which, as you all know by now, my beloved Patriots lost by a margin of 10 points, which I actually think is impressive considering the offense made it onto the field approximately -3 times during the first half. I had a friendly bet going with my pal Tiffany over at Snack, Snark, Bark, so she can expect a shipment of New England's finest craft beers to arrive sometime next week. Lucky for her, Andrew and I are local beer aficionados and as such, she can look forward to more than a six of Sam Boston and two Harpoon IPAs. ;)

These are actually Tiffany's local beers, not mine. Don't they look tantalizing?

Damn you, Brady