Monday, September 19, 2005

My Weekend

Spent the weekend at K's place in Denver, or more accurately, K's older sister's and brother-in-law's place in Highlands Ranch. Sunday was J's birthday, and K's other, younger sister A and I drove down on Friday after class, negotiating some really obnoxious front-range traffic. A handled it great, though, even after I encouraged her to cut off a rather large dump truck. Hey, we needed into the lane, asshole.

We spent Friday evening eating, drinking, and playing Mario Kart. I used to whup ass at that game on Nintendo 64, but we were playing the gamecube version and I got worked. By girls. Drunk girls.

Saturday morning K and I tracked down hot caffeine and we all eventually piled into the car and headed for the light rail station on Santa Fe Ave. Light rail is definitely the way to travel in Denver, especially when you're headed towards football, hockey, or Elitch's.

Something odd has happened to me and I'm not sure when it occurred. I can't do the big nasty rides anymore. The G sisters and brother-in-law all happily got in line for the Mind Eraser, while yours truly held the sunglasses and purse in the shade. This was after going on the ferris wheel and clutching at the bars, dizzy, and silently praying to please, God who may or may not exist, make it stop soon. He did, but not soon enough to make me believe.

After watching the gang get pummeled on the Mind Eraser, I thought I'd stop acting like my wee hurt and go on a ride. I noticed they had a tilt-a-whirl, or at least an Elitch's version of the tilt-a-whirl, and convinced A and P (the brother-in-law) to go on it. For some reason I associate tilt-a-whirls with my sister, and I've always loved that damn ride.

From there the afternoon flew by. K and I found a photo booth and took four of the best pictures ever. Towards the end of the day I got up enough nerve to try "the flying ride," which basically locks you into a prone position and then sends you spinning, dipping, and barrel rolling around a course, quickly. Good stuff, but not enough to get me on the Mind Eraser. K and P went on one of the nastiest rides in the place while the other two sisters and I ate pretzels and rehydrated; for the last ride of the day A, P, and I went on a water ride whose sole purpose is to get its occupants very wet.

Saturday night we ate well and drank port shakes and gave J her birthday cake.

Sunday morning we headed back to central Denver (City Park, I think – near a very big and very cool looking high school) for J and P's ultimate frisbee league. They weren't sure they had enough women to play that day, so K and A dressed for it just in case – A wound up not just playing but being almost solely responsible for an awesome offensive shift that resulted in a goal. Meanwhile, I sat on the sideline with my girlfriend cracking wise about hypercompetitive front-range yuppies, but secretly wishing I was out there playing.

(By the way Willie, I think this was in your old neck of the woods – I'm pretty sure I saw the place where I got bagels that morning during your wedding week.)

After frisbee K and I went shopping, and while Denver's traffic makes me nervous, there is something to be said for the shopping possibilities in larger communities.

A note here about clothes. Throughout my life I've been a chronic under-dresser, mostly because I have kind of a weird body and clothes have never felt like they fit well, especially nice clothes that are supposed to fit well. So, I tend to stick to loose-fitting and comfy clothes – or at least, I have until now. Now I'm about to be a teacher. And thanks to my dress habits, I have very few professional teachery clothes.

To her unending credit, K not only understood my plight but volunteered to cart my sorry, oddly sized ass around suburban Denver in search of hip teachery clothes. First to Target, which actually had some pretty awesome stuff – I picked up a cool button down shirt and sportcoat combination. On to J Crew, where I dropped a good bit on a single pair of cords. Expensive cords. But very nice, and they fit. Then we walked around the high end strip mall on Santa Fe Ave., window shopping and talking about how not having money makes you appreciate things all the more. Which is good, because we'll likely never have a lot of money.

And walking around with her, shopping for nice clothes, I felt, well, domesticated in a tranquil way. The fact that we have the exact same taste in clothes helped (classic, not trendy; think the Kennedy family circa 1961), as does the fact that we've been friends for over a year – but yeah, part of it is the newness of any relationship.

However, this one is different in some very important ways. I won't get into any further details, other than to say that maybe part of the reason this feels so great is that I've changed a whole lot over the past three years.

And that, my friends, is fodder for another post.


Anonymous A said...

Hurray for Paul! It's about time you wrote on your blog, but it was definately worth the wait. Here's to crappy drivers!

8:26 PM  
Blogger Anna said...

Funny. I associate tilt-a-whirls with myself, too.

9:04 AM  

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