Memorial Day Weekend
Currently, Three Day Weekends are still not an exact science, but here's my latest experiment.
First off, no better way to start a long weekend than like this:
That's what the Critical Mass bike ride looked like behind me, going down Van Ness. If you look closely, you'll see Eric in the bright yellow/green jacket.
Saturday afternoon was amazing because B.A. invited a bunch of us down to his parent's place in Palo Alto to sit by the pool. The view was amazing, the place was lavish, and the Sox beat the Yankees 17-1. Here's how everything started:
This was quite possibly the most complete Memorial Day BBQ. There was swimming, good friends, wiffleball, and food. But I still managed to screw things up.
This is how it happened: All the youthful stimulus led me to start diving wildly into the pool, just as I did when I was a kid. A slight miscalculation, and a lot of poor judgment, led me to try one of my favorite dives, the sailor's dive, which means you enter the water head first, with your arms by your side. It's a beautiful dive, but I neglected to factor in the sloping of the pool floor and shortly after entering the water, my nose made contact with the bottom of the pool.
I would like to point out here that I did not dive into the shallow end, which usually is the subject of all those diving/paralysis stories. I dove in the deep end, just in the wrong side of it. Luckily, it was just a scratch along the bridge of my nose. In fact, I'm very happy with the way it all turned out. Considering that I could have broken my nose, or neck, or had further damage to my face, I'm completely at ease with how it ended up. As Charly joked, "There goes your modeling career!"
The most pain I had to endure was sitting beside the pool with ice on my nose, explaining with embarrassment how this 35 year old hurt himself trying to do something he should have grown out of decades ago. It looked a lot like this:
Even though that doesn't look that bad, this is what it looked like when I woke up the next morning:
And the answer to your question is "No, I wasn't drunk," although I quickly remedied that after my injury. Now I have to explain myself to people at the new job tomorrow. Regardless of the truth, it does look like I got into a fist-fight, which isn't the impression you want to give new co-workers.
So I stayed in on "Second Saturday", as Kari calls 3-Day weekend Sundays, and went to Dolores park today. After that, the roomies and I met with Jim, Doug and Cathy for drinks. As we were walking out of the apartment, we noticed this figure in the skylight of the stairwell:
Further examination revealed it to be my alley cat extraordinaire, Ruby, who now routinely patrols the basement and roof, regulating both mouse and pigeon populations. When he's not on the job, he's taken to lounging in the skylight, plotting his next move:
Although he won't come to me, the times I do see him, he appears quite happy in his new outdoor surroundings.