a quality weekend

Hella weekend. Thursday I found myself at Hugo’s after work. Or at least I was at Hugo’s. I don’t think I could have found my way out of a pair of shoes by the time those lads were done with me. Very good times. There may or may not be pictures. I know the camera came out but for the life of me I don’t know if any of these shots are salvageable. =) You crazy guys. I said hullo to the devil ducks as well.

Friday I had just enough time to recover before rallying off to a staff meeting at the UC where a lot of positive things were said. Apparently we’re doing pretty well, as if the lineups weren’t evidence enough. Then I was back home for a quiet interlude. As far as I can remember the night passed uneventfully. I am a little worried though. I can’t remember what we did Friday night.

And I’ll tell you why. Saturday started innocently enough. I went for an early nine holes at the Ridge in Cordova Bay with Grant and Gavin. The course is pleasant and picturesque but it’s all about your short game. Grant used his wedge the whole way around. The sand traps are epic. I took some time to help out a family that had been lost at the bottom of one of those traps for four generations. They had webbed feet and had invented 750 different kinds of sandpaper, and were quite startled to learn that no one really thought of Victoria as a colonial outpost any more except for the British. I gave them some gum and a handful of change and went back to the game.

When we wrapped up at noon we realized we had the whole day still in front of us. We picked up Judd and explored the world famous Meadow and hiked along a completely different and far cooler Ridge down to the Beach, complete with ancient concrete-walled tide pool used by a wealthy Dutch family back in the day. The pic above is from that very narrow Ridge, where the water on either side is an easy stone toss and a long drop away.

After enjoying the ambience of the place for a while we gave in to starvation and headed for Felicita’s, which quickly became Boston Pizza for the sake of the non-stop ice tea. Before long ice tea inevitably became Rickards Red and we were persuaded to try out the brand new pool table. And more beer.

I know this will come as a shock to many but after a couple of pitchers we discovered that what we really wanted more than another game of pool was more beer. Off we went to get that thing.

Somehow we got to chatting up the guy at the liquor store. He thought that we should be drinking the import tall cans. My first gut instinct, when he opened up with, “…just as good as Lucky and costs about the same per millilitre…” was to flee screaming, but we saw our well-liked Stella Artois amongst the rabble and thought that was a good reference. We splattered $50 across the till and were on our way with a flat of assorted imported tall cans. And a snack-pack of Cantebury to keep the rest in line.

The Stella was good. The Cantebury was good. The rest ranged from passable to piss. Mostly on the piss side. That guy at the liquor store needs a stern lecture on the evils of suckering young, impressionable and half-cut lads into buying swill just to help him clear shelf space. I described the Faxe Strong as tasting like nothing so much as beef stew. The Premium was the same, but with less flavour and alcohol content. And the Tiger made our tongues curl.

We have been spoiled here in Victoria. Gently cradled in the lap of BC’s microbrew snobbery we really have no idea how low the standards can be out there. Cherish it. Cherish it!

I do need to qualify my post so far: we did in fact drink a lot of beer and we are by this point buzzing quite contentedly. The Faxe Strong is 8.2% and it does come in that tall can. We have been drinking steadily (and playing foosball) for six hours when Jen comes to pick me up.

Jen isn’t thrilled to be grabbing her slightly slushy boyfriend with only a half hour to spare before we’re due at Kalani’s birthday (Happy Birthday!). She doesn’t stand much of a chance with me because I’m bubbling cheerfully along and before she knows it she’s enjoying herself as well.

We had a couple more drinks with dinner, and then a couple more before we moved on to the next stop: Darcy’s. It wasn’t easy getting us all in there but we persevered. Dale, the GM, sobbed in my ear at one point that the place is too popular. He needs 300 more seats to meet demand. Dang success. Next time I saw him he was up on stage with the band, screaming Green Day’s American Idiot into the mic, so I’m guessing he’s not reeeeeely upset. =)

I admit that I was nearly done in. A wild guess at how much I’d had to drink since noon would land somewhere around “probably less than twenty”. I was having a really good time but I was ready to pull the cord. Not so: Jennie & Carrie. The ugly lights came up and off we went. We bounced off of a jam-packed UC and again off a throbbing Lucky Bar and were saved from an ignominious end by the girls’ assertion that we must have food or die. 1am – we headed for Lenny’s.

I guess I must have found my fourth wind because I was having a great time. Between Carrie’s nachos (zesty beef on the side, sour cream on the side, olives on the side, tomatoes on the side, salsa on the side, onions on the side, jalapenos on the side), Jen’s miniburgers (no! no miniburgers!) and the chocolate shakes Brian and I had (chocolate shakes chocolate shakes chocolate shakes!) I don’t think we stopped laughing for two hours solid. “No, you can’t tell him that! He’s practically family!”

Ahhhh Paris.

Sunday dawned glorious and bright and we did our best to sleep right through it, but my body has this infuriating habit of not wanting to sleep after a particularly good drink-up. 8:30 and I was wide awake. guh.

After going for a badly needed walk to pick up the birthday presents for Jen’s dad, Dave, and her sister-in-law, Danielle, we stopped back at home long enough for Jen to finish off her homework: the clues for the home version of the Amazing Race. She would have had more time but we absolutely had to stop by the massive used-book sale at the old Bay building. I thought we’d be in & out but I was dumb. I think we were there for almost an hour & a half. mmmbooks.

The Amazing Race went very well. Dave & Danielle were neck & neck, and even if that’s because they had to wait all the time for Jen to catch up to give them their next clues I still think that makes for a fun race. =)

Danielle won in a photo finish and they received their prizes: two annual passes each for the IMAX theatre.

Then there was the grand feast of turkey and all the trimmings. I was quietly moved to tears at the deliciousness of that bird, and though Colleen was happy to receive the compliment she would only assert that “it’s a little dry”. If my maximums match your mediums I will live long and prosper, ma’am.

And yes, there was cake.

It’s funny that it wasn’t until years after I left my family that I would come to feel the value of it. Sometimes you just have to be surrounded by it before it can sink in.

When we finally got back to my place at a 9 that felt more like 12 all I wanted to do was fall on to a couch and be hypnotized by tv while I digested and fell asleep. And that’s more or less how it went.

Such a story it took til Tuesday to write.

In other news it’s been just over a year since the revelation of the Secret (thanks, Tom, for the reminder). How’s your quest coming?