Wow, has this been a crazy busy week? I’m having a bit of an eye of the hurricane moment right now, kicking back on a lazy Sunday evening with a cup of mocha and Bruce Springsteen’s Greatest Hits on the stereo. It’s too damn hot and humid to really do anything constructive, so I figured I might as well kick back, enjoy what little time I have to myself and do a much needed update of this blog of mine.. Sorry for the silence, by the way, it’s been crazy.
But the thesis is, hopefully, coming along nicely, thank you very much. I feel as if I’ve spent more time on it this past week, on a day to day basis, than I ever have in the entire process and it’s sorta paid off.. For the first time ever, I have that strange feeling of actually being ahead of schedule.. At least I think I am, I’ll probably find something to panic about soon enough. But since my battle of wits with MS Word at Tina’s the other day, things have actually shaped out pretty well for me.. So much so that I’m a conclusion, a few illustrations, some examples and a fuck of a lot of proof reading away from being ready to hand it all in.. Yay me!
It surely has taken its toll. Going to work at GLS on Thursday and Friday was NOT fun. I actually nearly collapsed at some point on Thursday, a fact that Torben seemed rather worried about and one that prompted him to state something along the lines of “Wow, so it really IS possible to wear you out and break you with work!” – Friday was a little better, mostly because I’d had some time to rest a little and had only spent about four hours on the thesis that day. It still was a drag, though, mostly because Torben had the day off and I was left to do things on my own – on what turned out to be a really busy night.. Good times, good times! We got free ice cream, though, and a lot of people dropped by the office just to say hello and chat a little which always helps.
Also, I did some self-spoiling on Friday, leaving a little early for work and dropping by the supermarket near Tina where I, weeks before, had fallen into a state of shock and coma from looking at their marvelous beer selection. My plan was to buy a few decent brews for the weekend ahead, which I did (a Czech Pilsner Tina and I had really enjoyed some time before, a British Strong ale, and some Danish micro brew dark wheat beers that were on sale), but I also ended up stumbling upon some vintage (2oo3) Belgian Lambic beers that I couldn’t help but get because, well, I’d spent the night before reading up on Belgian beers and had been particularly intrigued by the chapter on the spontaneously fermented Lambic style.. So there you go!
Having thusly stocked up, I couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that I’d actually just spent good money on what was essentially spontaneously fermented grain left lying around for six odd years.. Oh well, I did tell you I have a bad case of collector mania, didn’t I?
After my shopping spree, work and my traditional and peaceful walk home, I enjoyed me some of the less expensive beers I’d purchased along with a few sandwiches I’d made up and a bit of internet TV before nearly passing out for a long, well-deserved and peaceful nights sleep. I hardly ever get to have one of those nights where I’ll sleep all the way through the night and not be awake at least once before the alarm goes off. I guess I need to wear myself down more often.. No wait!
I’d given myself all of Saturday off for the first time in what felt like ages.. And I pretty much spent it getting into trouble from the get-go. I’d decided beforehand that my only preset plan for the day should include experimenting with jalapeno bacon cheeseburgers and so I jumped into that endeavor pretty much from the start of the day by launching into the preparation of the condiments, namely homemade tomato ketchup/concentrate and mayonnaise. The former turned out just fine with a nicely concentrated, slightly spicy tomato flavor. The latter, well, here’s the thing, I seem to be absolutely cursed when it comes to making mayo. It only turns out good every other time, I make it. And this wasn’t one of those times. Well, that’s to say it did turn out good, if you’re into really runny watery mayo.. ’twas really more of a sauce than a condiment and it ended up wasting me a lot of time, money and really good olive oil before I just gave up, headed to the store and bought some mayo and a few beers to drown my sorrows.
These beers, and the mayo, I stuck in a bag along with all the other ingredients needed for the bacon cheese burgers, and headed on down to Dunkel’s as he had spent about every minute of my mayo fail endeavor trying to talk me into hanging out, having beers and sharing my burgers with him. When I arrived at Dunkel, I found him looking a right hung over mess and his place looking like God knows what. I actually had to force my way in the door as his top mattress and a few other items from his bed had fallen off and was now covering what used to be his little hallway. Upon questioning, Dunkel merely shrugged and declared he’d gotten beyond wasted last night, that it had looked like this when he came to, and he had no clue as to what had happened. “Alright,” I reasoned, kicked things to the side, stuck all my junk in the refrigerator and popped open a couple of beers. We spent the afternoon drinking a few beers and going over and trying to expand on some hungover guitar riffs and other goodies that Dunkel had pulled out of his hazy mind earlier that day. It was pretty good times, actually, even if I had to keep pressuring Dunkel to speed things up as he was apparently in a slow, melodic kinda mood.. Which is a pretty weird mood for him to be in.
Late afternoon/early evening, I got to work on the burger project.. Which turned out to be more of a disappointment than I’d hoped for, even though possible. I’m not entirely sure what went wrong. Other than the horrible store-bought mayo things seemed pretty promising: I had some nice ciabatta buns, some nice patties that I’d spiked with a bit of fresh jalapeno, garlic salt, smoked paprika, pepper and Worcestershire Sauce, I had sharp cheddar, quality back bacon, rocket salad and fresh tomatoes to top off my tomato concentrate.. And somehow that turned into the most anonymously tasting burger ever.. Which not only disappointed me but also confused the hell out of me.. Eh well, at least the beer was good, and the company, too.
As I was chewing my way through my second burger which I’d upped with more cheese, bacon and condiments to try to at least get some extra flavor out of it, Iben and Under joined the party which was pretty cool considering I’d seen neither of them in ages, let alone had a drink with them.. Or two.. Or however many it turned into that evening. For someone who don’t drink a whole lot, they sure were attacking their rum and pineapple juice combo pretty enthusiastically and they weren’t shy about sharing either. So for most of the evening, drinks were on Iben and Under while Dunkel and I provided much of the entertainment.. Good times, good times! We got around to really catching up and relaying stories from the good old days of drunken summer fun some three years or so ago when Iben was unemployed and we spent our time hanging out, getting drunk and being utterly irresponsible.. We also got around to talking about how it was probably a good thing that those days of careless drunken fun were about to be over for most of us and how it had all probably really taken its toll on our bodies.. And for some reason we got around to talking about Tina as well and what a shame it was that she had work to do today so she couldn’t join us. I’m not really sure how it all came about but at some point Iben just leaned towards me and quite seriously went “You know what? I REALLY like Tina!” to which I had no other reply than the obvious “Yeah, me too!” – “Uh-huh,” Iben continued: “mainly because her feet are as small as mine!” – “Yeah, me too,” I replied, quickly followed by a: “Wait? What?! No!” – Apparently the rum had started working by now because Iben and I spent the next few minutes talking about how I needed to drag Tina along more if for nothing else then to establish who of her and Iben was really the smallest or had the smallest feet. Under, in the mean time, apparently went to throw up, so yea, the rum was working I guess. But then, I guess we did finish an entire bottle in very little time.. But there you go.
Our grand plan of the evening had been to crash a party at Dunkel’s drummer, Kris’s, place but that plan was never put into action as Kris was apparently very hung over from a party the night before and as such was in no mood for partying. My simple solution for this predicament was to try and include him in our own little party by calling him up from Dunkel’s phone and harassing the hell out of him and egging him on until he agreed to show up. How I managed to convince him to do this, I’ve no idea.. Seeing as throughout most of the conversation he had no idea who I was so the most frequent words out of his mouth were “Who IS this?!” while the most frequent words out of mine were along the lines of “You’re only as old and hung over as you think you are, time to get with the party!” .. That and my method of persuasion included promising him we’d share our rum with him – the rum that we had already drunk! Right.. So..
One way or another it worked, and Kris showed up about an hour later, still visibly hung over, finding no rum to drink, but finding the four of us each drunker than the other and with Under already on the retreat.. He’d even brought some music for us to listen to.. Which was received with enthusiasm from Under, understanding from me and varying comments of “Fuck this shit!” from Iben and Dunkel.. Ah, poor Kris, need I mention that he didn’t stay too long? Between the broken promises, the verbal abuse, the quick departure of Iben and Under (who had CLEARLY had enough) following his arrival, and Dunkel and I getting more and more hammered on Chimay Bleu, he probably got enough pretty quickly and as such bolted rather quickly again, leaving Dunkel and I alone to finish the beers left behind by our various guests while contemplating a documentary on the history of Heavy Metal and eating chicken wings.. Good times, good times!
I ended up staggering home at around 4 AM, I think, having just come to the conclusion with Dunkel that the beers oddly enough weren’t working as well as we’d expected. This may have had something to do with the fact that our last beers of the evening were consumed at a rate of about five in an hour, so they hadn’t really had time to work before I wandered out into the cold and into a wall.. Which probably goes to explain why I don’t remember the end of the night all too well. ’twas good times, though! A day off well spent, I dare say.
Tomorrow it’s back to work, then, on the thesis and at GLS. Why do weekends always seem so short?