Plan B

I was really looking forward to ths weekend.

Roger Mexico called me from New York City last week. He was in town for a seminar on digital recording, and had just returned from a late night on the town. We chatted for a while, and during the conversation he mentioned that he might be able to visit me the following weekend. Hooray!

Of course a few days later I started to worry if this was just wishful (and drunken) thinking on both our parts. And after realizing that the students were reporting back to his university the following Monday, I was pretty certain it was. I emailed him about it, and he still thought there might be a chance he could make it back to Cincinnati for a few days, but wasn't 100% sure. He'd let me know. So I crossed all my fingers and toes, kept my weekend plans open, stocked the freezer with Morningstar Farms products and awaited his response.

On Friday afternoon, he emailed back with the unfortunate news that he had to work Saturday as well as Monday morning, so his trip would have to be postponed. Bummer.

So rather than sit around the house all weekend and mope about not having a houseguest, I filled up my weekend schedule with things to do so I wouldn't get depressed. There was a Zoo happy hour Friday night, and I decided to stop in and make an appearance. (Zappagirl and I had planned to go to karaoke later in the evening.) However, Zappagirl finished work early and joined the Zoo crew at Daniel's. Hey, she worked at the Zoo way back when (back when I worked there the first time around) - she's still family, right? One beer turned into another and another, and before we knew it we'd plunked several dollars into the jukebox and were losing a game of pool to the guy from the Graphics department. So much for karaoke night.

I checked AIM when I got home, and caught Roger Mexico just as he was getting ready to sign off. I felt kind of guilty that he seemed to be having a crappy evening when I'd had a good time with my co-workers and had made other fun plans for the rest of the weekend.

I slept late on Saturday, and decided to watch my latest arrivals from Netflix. (I'd bumped up a few selections that I'd thought he might be interested in watching.) As it turned out, it was probably a good thing he hadn't been there to watch The Laramie Project with me, because I was a big sobbing mess. I would've liked to have had his input for comparison to the stage play, though. (He had been the sound designer for the production at Playhouse in the Park, and I wasn't able to see the show during its brief run.)

As I got up to change the disc to my other selection, I decided to take an antihistamine. Seems all my boo-hooing had kicked my allergies into high gear (stupid mold count), and I was going to run out of Kleenex if I didn't do something about it. I also decided to add a hot bath into the mix, and put off watching Underworld Live - Everything Everything until later.

One hour later, the antihistamine and the bath had knocked me completely for a loop, and I fell asleep on the couch watching This Old House and Antiques Roadshow on PBS. (It was either that or sports. Thems the breaks in a cable-free household.) Yee-hah.

The day wasn't a complete bust, though. I ended up going over to Zappagirl's house, where we decided to visit the new Old Spaghetti Factory location. For those of you Queen City residents who have been sorrowing over the loss of the downtown location, take heart. The spaghetti with browned butter and Mizithra cheese is just as good as you remembered it to be, and there wasn't a panhandler in sight. Regrettably, there didn't seem to be a station 13 either, though.

We returned to her house to watch Best in Show, yet another movie I'd managed to miss when it was in the theaters. I will never again be able to watch the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show without snickering. Or say Shih Tzu without giggling, for that matter.

So here it is, almost 5:30 in the morning, and I can't sleep. We're planning to go to Paramount's Kings Island tomorrow, and I'm just as giddy as I used to be when I was a kid. Too many thoughts of rides that go entirely too fast and too high and rattle your brain around in its skull are keeping me awake, and my insides are already jumping up and down in anticipation. I'm looking forward to the rides (I've not yet had a chance to check out Tomb Raider: The Ride), but am not looking forward to the now infamous queue lines that seem to stretch on for miles. And now I've just discovered that there's a concert at the park tomorrow night as well - Styx and REO Speedwagon. Hee. Wonder if Zappagirl wants to add some bad 80s corporate rock into the mix? Since we missed the chance to have a good laugh and go see Journey at Jammin' on Main this year? Of course, I can't ask her that, since she is a much wiser person than I am and has already gone to sleep. Oh well. I'll let her know in a few hours.

Hmmm. After reading that bit of news, "Come Sail Away" is stuck in my head. And to make matters worse, it's the Eric Cartman version from South Park. I need help, seriously.

Oh well. I suppose I should try to get some sleep, since we'll probably be getting ready to go to the park in a few hours. I doubt that I'll be able to do so; my brain has already strapped itself into Son of Beast and is slowly climbing that gigantic hill, ready to scream cathartically as the train hurtles downward at breakneck speed.

For someone whose weekend plans got cancelled, I think I did OK. I still wish I was spending it with Roger Mexico, though.