my own worst enemy

Weekend Rundown

Monday, December 05, 2005

This was quite the event-filled weekend with several hilarious and ironic moments, so let's start from the top:

Friday

I had been planning to cook baked chicken every night since Wednesday, yet Friday's attempt was foiled, too. In lieu of delicious chicken, Pangle, Phil, Jess, Matthias and I attended Booter's Christmas concert at St. James. The surprise of the performance was Booter's solo. Who would've thought that someone whose voice cracks during normal conversation like a pubescent boy could sing with such a deep voice? All the heads in our row instantly popped up with eyebrows raised, trying to figure out if Booter was lip-synching. Nope. Oh, his solo sounded pretty awesome (which wasn't surprising).

Saturday

Got some uber-awesome extra sleep action to start the day and then met up with Bret and Pangle for a 6-mile run. This marked my first "long" run for my marathon training, which was put on hold for two weeks due to travel and illness. Stupid bronchitis. Anyways, back to the run. Pangle took us down to a route she ran in Palos Verdes when she was training for her marathon. The route was pretty awesome; I felt like I was running through a zoo thanks to the beautiful scenery down in PV. The air was remarkably cleaner than the smog-filled atmosphere of the rest of LA, and the scent of eucalyptus filled the air. Thank Jebus I bought new running shoes last week. My old ones were giving me shin splints and re-agitating an old injury on my foot (the one that looks like a second ankle joint -- I'm a freak!) The shin splints disappeared but the soreness in my foot was still there. Balls.

Upon returning from my run, I rallied the guys to go down to the local bank so we could open a joint account for the apartment. Now, it might not seem like a big event, but it was quite a momentous equation. We've been trying to do this since June. This was the first weekend we were all in town on Saturday morning. So we walk over to the bank with checkbooks and IDs in hand, sit down with a manager and start all the paperwork. She starts entering our info and all is going well until... BAM! Disaster. The following is a reinactment of the ensuing conversation.

Manager:		Mr. Turner?
Me:		Yes?
Manager:		You have been declined for a new account. Please hand over your checkbook and roll up your sleeves so we can cut off your hands for this heinous offense.
Me:		Wait, what??

Actually, the part about chopping off my hands isn't entirely true. They only wanted all my fingers except the pinkies. "Let's see you write checks with just your pinkies! Mwuhahahaha!"

But seriously, it turns out I overdrafted my account back at Purdue (on a $3 Arby's sandwich and then a $0.99 iTunes song) and that set off a huge red flag. Apparently I can't open an account with this new bank for 5 years! Funny, the overdraft I had at ND because Ball didn't sign his rent check didn't send off any red flags. Damn you still, Ball.

The hilarity of this scenario is that one of my roommates has horrendous credit and another has never had a credit card. Plus, I make a substantially higher income than they do (not rubbing it in guys, just stating the facts). All this, and I'm left off the account. Hilarious.

The day continued with beer-battered brats at Matthias' request. After watching the first half of USC's drubbing of UCLA, the majority of the apartment fell into slumber. We also purchased two Christmas trees; one Booter-safe and Booter-sized for indoors, and one real, taller-than-Booter tree for our front porch.

Later on I skipped out on the girls' high school soccer game to go get my foot checked out since it hurt to walk. I travel to a local urgent care facility and start filling out the paperwork. For some strange reason, they wanted to know my religion. Very strange. I can only assume they used this information for good (but not for awesome). After an hour of watching FSU humiliate VaTech in the waiting room, they finally call my name. The nurse takes my blood pressure and temperature and all I can think is, "Are those vital stats when evaluating a foot injury?" Cue Dr. Hibbert's voice: "Hmmm. BP is 123 over 85, temperature 97.3º... I'm afraid you're suffering from a stress fracture. A-Heh heh heh heh!" Hilariously enough, when the doctor arrived in the room another hour later, he was African American. Booya! He proceeded to "guess" that I had Plantar Fasciitis. The remedy? Stack gauze in my shoe and cut out a hole where the pain is so when I step there's no pressure on the painful spot. "That'll be $100. A-Heh heh heh heh!" I still haven't found a pair of scissors and thus have not tried this miracle cure yet.

I finally got to cook my baked chicken dinner which was surprisingly substandard considering the half-week of buildup. The night took a turn for the better when Booter suggested Lord of the Rings Monopoly. He and Matthias busted out a couple bottles of red wine and I grabbed my Dr. Pepper and bottle of bourbon. Despite my horrible play and near-subsequent bankruptcy, the game was a smashing success that end with all three of us ruthlessly intoxicated. Afterwards, they went out to the bars while I drunk-dialed Ginger and passed out.

Sunday

Pangle and I went to mass at St. James where the priest told us that Advent was like a spiritual GPS system. In fact, GPS stood for "God, Patriarchs, Saints." I love it when priests are clever in their homilies. Otherwise I end up day-dreaming in mass.

That afternoon I verntured out to do some Christmas shopping for the fam. Holy crap, the stores were packed. It didn't help that I was already a little tired, so suffice it to say that i was a wee bit grumpy when I finally got back to the apartment. Phil can attest to this as he was hanging Christmas lights with me when my phone rang and I said "Who the eff is calling me now?" Bah Humbug! Humbug, I say! Turned out it was Mel on the phone, which was a nice surprise.

Nine of us ended up going out to dinner at Chili's (our second choice). I relived past memories of Fajita 'Rita Mondays by ordering Classic Fajitas, Skillet Queso and two tall Coors Lights. The food and (more probably) the beer put me in better spirits. We capped the night off with two episodes from Scrubs, Season Two. I still can't believe they cancelled that show. Much funnier than all the other shows people are complaining about being cancelled.

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