I woke up on Sunday feeling shockingly decent. My legs had a little less energy in them, but my back was fine, and I wasn't anyway near as stiff as I had predicted. I am still shocked about this. Maybe Jake's basement couch is really THAT good. I don't know.
I went upstairs and as people got up, Tara went out and got the fixings for a huge breakfast, which, since it was the middle of March, we ate out on the deck. It was in the 70s again, and it was glorious eating out there. Here's a picture of Damien for no reason other than because I love Damien.
After breakfast, I got to watch bedhead Wyatt stumble around the house and at one point, shove Damien aside, which was pretty hilarious. Damien then licked his fingers all over. It was pretty adorable and I couldn't help but think of all the pictures people take of babies with pitbulls loving them. This one's pretty funny- Wyatt looks drunk.
Wyatt, Kevin and I spent a considerable amount of time watching Yo! Gabba Gabba. This show is completely ridiculous and sucks you right in. I had always heard of it and even have a stuffed animal of the red guy I won at a fair on my desk, but had never known the Tim & Eric-like absurdity of it. It's pretty awesome.
Most people left, and Kevin and I decided to accompany the Robertsons on a sweet ride alongside Lake Champlain. We always seem to go to North Beach when I visit Vermont, and this was awesome. Riding a bike when I thought I wouldn't be able to move was awesome. Riding a bike the day after skiing was even more awesome. Riding a bike in March was even more awesome than that.
It felt so good to be on a bike again- there's just a special feeling I get being on that god awful seat that only other people who love biking will ever understand. Of course I was on Tara's bike (the bike I flipped over and cracked my helmet on last summer), so it was a bit awkward (it's waaay too small), but it still felt great. We rode a few miles around the corner of the enormous lake, along paved walkways through millions of people. It was a lot like the Minuteman bikeway in Cambridge, only with an ocean-like lake alongside the entire way.
Here's a sweet spot, all instagrammed up for maximum pretty:
These dudes were playing bike polo, which I didn't even know existed. Judging by the looks of these guys, this is the most hipster of all activities.
There were a million people on the beach. No swimming, but lots of sunbathing, frisbee, drinking, etc. Typical beach stuff. So weird to see now. I really wish the building on the right wasn't there, otherwise this would have been a perfectly symmetrical shot by accident.
We had a very relaxing tossing of the B,
(in a warped world)
Wyatt tried his hand at being cute,
and we headed out. This is what the beach looked like, instagrammed:
Here's another shot I love of Damien:
We headed back, unloaded bikes, loaded up everything in my car and headed out. Kevin and I had a painfully long ride home- there were stretches where he was in and out of sleep and I was so zoned out that I wasn't even aware of it. It seemed to take FOREVER to get back to his house, and I immediately knew I was screwed once I dropped him off.
After somehow getting him to his house and back (and driving on the worst roads imaginable), I began the trek from Sanbornton back to Somersworth. I put on my favorite album of last year and blasted it. I hit myself with cold air, I headbanged, air guitared, screamed, did whatever it took- and it was all useless. I can't remember the last time I had this much trouble driving home. The entire weekend- skiing, biking, partying all night and drinking, sleeping like 8 interrupted hours of sleep across all of that- it all hit at the same time. I wasn't even fighting off sleep- no, that would make sense. I was, instead, zoning out for 5 minutes at a time, having no recollection of what had happened. I wasn't just autopilot driving, I was autopilot singing. I was singing every word to the cd, driving along all the right roads at reasonable speeds, I just barely remember it. It was BAD. I'm incredibly lucky that my autopilot driving is good enough that I made it all the way back in one piece. I guess jumping from nothing for months to a super epic weekend like this isn't quite "no big deal" anymore. I guess at age 30, these things destroy you a little bit.
I woke up the next day and could barely move. Apparently it took 2 days for the skiing to catch up with me. Oh well. It's not like I had to get up early and go to work or anything! OHH!
This was a great weekend with great people I don't see enough. Thanks for hosting, Jake and Tara. Let's make this a yearly thing, ok?
Stolen from Hannah. No Kristy, Hannah or Tom in this one, but I had a blast with you guys too.
currently listening to: Marilyn Manson- Antichrist Superstar (how much does that not fit this post?!)