Wednesday was fun filled LA times. Thursday was the northern solo trek on my moto. Thursday night was me being received by my friends, beer, and a much needed jacuzzi. Friday was me running around with some friends I hadn't seen in a long ass time (Ariel, Johnny, Jeremiah). And Friday night was very relaxing time back up at Heathers parents house.
Namely my evenings since then have consisted of late nights and waaaay too early mornings of getting up and figuring out how to get to where I need to be. Sunday was particularly rough: after a night of drowning in what is called a Four Loko, and polishing off an apple cider at a local tavern, not remembering the videos I shot that night, but remembering the bushes and lawns I was desecrating with my vomit, I'm taking a sabbatical from alcohol. Sunday was nothing but miserable hangover hell, coupled with all too happy go lucky family, but then there are always the dreaded "Sandy Egoans" in an all too popular cafe diner in down town "Sandy Ego" over by the ball park. Sure it was Fathers day, but I'd have rather not had a million other strangers clouding up a special day with my family and friends. (And no I didn't select the restaurant, and was trying to get us to go somewhere else when they said it was going to take an hour to be seated.)
So just before the food was delivered to the table I ran to the bathroom to see if there was anything left in my system that was going to voluntarily come up without too much finger jabbing down the back of my throat, nor make my position and objective all too obvious to the other bathroom patrons. I could have only hoped for one of those single stalls where I can lock the door and have it to myself, but noooooo! That would have worked too much in my favor. Minutes after entering, the whole place must have had the same idea, cause in came a few long haired filly's just waiting to take their after meal turn at releasing the unwanted. (you gotta love the not-so-new So Cal diet)
Anyway, with a little stomach acid and a good attempt stuck in my throat, I promptly gave up the stall I was hoarding, splashed some water around the countertop and returned to the table, hoping some color had rejoined to my previously pale complexion.
Surprisingly I loved my brunch, Chicken pesto quesadilla. In fact I want one right now. I said NOW!!!
After that 2 hour brunch I got a second chance at life with a nice 2 hour nap, when my sister took my parents up to La Jolla to check out her new office space. It worked. I woke up renewed, and ready to tackle the 8 hour drive that lay ahead.
And here I am, half eaten bagel, empty glass of what moments before contained almond milk, telling you all about how gorgeously miserable my Sunday was, but hey, it was fun! And I'm living to tell about it.
Happy Fathers Day!!!
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