WARNING: Lame Neurotic Blog Post Below…

This weekend I have plans, and lots of them. I am usually one that enjoys going through life without having plans on the goings-on of my weekends.

This weekend is the complete opposite of my normal routine of just seeing where the world takes me, and as it goes it has me all anxious to get it all over with this was I could go back to doing whatever I want to do unplanned – even though I do want to do all of these things. It’s just not the same when things have been planned out weeks in advance.

Tonight is a going away drinking fest for a friend of mine who is moving to Texas. This event is appearing as though it will be packed with native Brooklynites, and as such, I’m expecting to be hearing lots of the letter “r” being pronounced as a “y” with the letter “e” becoming either an “a” or an “er”, or vise versa, dropping letters to words, and the “s’s” will contain multiple “ssss”. I’m sure that I will take part in this annunciating as well.

Wire – Whyer
Square – SSSquyer
Florida – Florider
And - An

I’m slightly worried about this event, as I am with all of my events.

See, my usual Friday nights have consisted of being in bed around the 11 or 12 o’clock hour for the past many months – because I’m an old man at heart, and this shindig doesn’t even officially begin (wristband unlimited booze) until 11PM, with plans for after hours bars, I don’t think I can make it the entire night.

So like the geek that I am when I get home from work this evening I need to add a nap or two to my list of preparations for what I can foresee as an extended amount of drinking.

This extended hours of drinking worries me too, since as of late I have been very well buzzed on two drinks, and even slow talking while nursing my third – and I know that at least one person will announce shots of tequila, simply because they want to hear about everyone’s going downhill after tequila the next day, and more so than that, the man of the hour is a fan of Dr. Pepper bombs (similar to sake bombs, only with harsher booze and they taste like Dr. Pepper).

Saturday is a Housewarming party of the other Cheese – no, I don’t have another g/f, it’s just someone with the same name, Cheese. This will mean that I’m going to be around a bunch of people that I don’t know all that well, and will be more on the quiet side. When this happens I internalize my not talking too much, and need to find an excuse to why I am so quiet.

The excuse that I normally find to justify my not talking (even though nobody is noticing my lack of conversing) is that I’m too busy drinking. “Sorry I couldn’t add a comment to that conversation, I was sipping this Stella.”

This usually finds me buzzed too quickly, and is how at one of my sister’s bbq’s a few years back I ended up laughing until tears ran down my face at nothing to due with the conversation that I was “in”. See there was in a conversation that I wasn’t adding to, while it was going on her dog was humping the neighbors dog, and as I saw it my brain exploded and it looked to be the funniest thing I ever witnessed.

That’s two nights in a row of boozefesting for a guy that normally doesn’t drink, but likes his well to keep flowing when he does. So come Sunday morning I am almost certain that I will be feeling the aftermath of lack of sleep with my body aching, and Sunday morning is when the last planned event that I have this weekend takes place.

Sunday is forsythia day at the bbg, so of course I need to go there, bright and early to pick up my free forsythia, and buy some new shrubs to take the place of some pussy willows that I chopped down in my backyard last week.

I need to go worry about this unnecessarily, while working away from my desk for most of the day.

Sorry all that I could give the two of you reading this was a brief view into my neurosis.

Don’t worry; I’ll try to get out my post to China as well.