Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Aliiiiiiiiive! Aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive!

Good morning, world! I don't know about you, but I feel like a brand new gal. I finally got a few full nights' sleeps tucked under my belt, I'm pleasantly sunburned, and I'm tucked into my little train seat hoping the ticket man doesn't notice I'm still using my May monthly pass and that no one sits next to me. Fight the system, bras!

And hooo boooy did I need this weekend. If you couldn't tell from last week's measly posts, I was feeling a bit ... shall we say ... emotional after the entire "just launched the Boston chapter of Back on my Feet" thing. Could have been the utter lack of sleep. Or the four-day diet of beer and french fries coupled with the fact that I was too deliriously tired to lace up my running shoes all week. Or maybe it's just that I was so flipping pumped that we finally launched. Who knows, but I spent my week walking around in a fog so thick I could barely tell my ass from Curled Up Hand Man's curled up elbow. Speaking of which, I recently found out that Curled Up Hand Man's name is actually FOLDED Up Hand Man. God, I can't even get my townies straight. I have so much to learn.

So when I finally stumbled off the train on Friday afternoon and found myself slightly confused, blinking into the sunlight and the potential of a three-day weekend, I damn near shit my pants. Because nothing spells awesome to a sleep-deprived gal who's starving for her return to a social life like a three-day weekend devoted to beachin' and boatin' and day drinkin'. And beach and boat and day drink we did. And to be honest, I'm as shocked as you are that I'm not just now waking up wedged in between some drift wood with seaweed in my hair and sand in my mouth. It's a Memorial Day miracle!

So when I fell off the back of the boat while trying to pee and friends took a tumble on the dock while trying to put on a pair of shorts and B emerged from the marshes and found us all giggling in a harbor bar booth with missing articles of clothing and a pair of white galoshes on my feet because I lost my flip flops, I knew that we had succeeded. Memorial Day was a success. And by success, I mean shit show. And that is exactly what I needed. Welcome back, summer shenanigans. Oh how I've missed you. It's been a long, cold, lonely winter. Doo doo doo doo.

And this is what I'm thinking about as the train barrels towards Boston and I gear myself up for another week. Mostly because I'm trying to distract myself from the fact that I really have to poop after chugging that extra large cup of coffee. Too much, Falko?

I'm BACK, bitches!


Sarah said...

I'm glad you had a great holiday weekend....that last comment made me crack up out loud at my desk. Thanks for a giggle to start my week.

Falko said...

You're no longer a woman to me. Women don't poop.

Becky Mochaface said...

Welcome back! I didn't get my day drink on but I did get my drink on at night mostly to forget the amount of pain I was in from tiling our kitchen.

rory said...

Ah, sweet glorious summer.
Welcome back.
It's so good and so longed for.


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