Last night a bunch of work folks threw a little shindig for us as a going away/excuse to drink thingy at the Rock Bottom Brewery. Actually, it was a joint event, since we were sharing the spotlight with another work colleague who’s leaving as well. Whether or not we went into it feeling slightly gypped is irrelevant, because we both partied like it was 1999. You know, when I wore a thumb ring without irony, and Crissy was pillowfighting with her sorority sisters to Lou Bega.
But since it’s 2008, I was ready to lie down with a cold compress by 9:30. A friend of mine puked at 11. I suppose it’s not really a party unless someone pukes, so he was unwittingly playing a vital role in the festivities. You’re a true friend, Rick.
If last night were a silent movie, there’d have been quite a few “scene missing” moments for me, but I do have little flashes of giving someone financial advice, and starting to tell someone I hate that I’d miss him, but quitting halfway through the sentence. Luckily, we still have two more weeks to ride the elevators together.
I would’ve taken today off, but I had to go into work for a presentation in which I’d be playing the guitar and singing a song about the delicious, whole grain wonderment of oatmeal. In the song, I rhyme “literal sense” with “anti-oxidants.” The fact that I was still a little drunk helped me ignore the tiny whine of my soul dying. Meanwhile, Crissy was sunning poolside at our friend Christine’s parents’ house while, at least in my mind, sipping a seabreeze.
Regardless, if leaving town is as fun as that, I think we’ll just hang out here for the next 5 years telling people we’re leaving every 2 weeks. It’s a nice reminder of how completely awesome our friends are. And a crappy reminder of how much we’ll miss them.
Oh, this is a picture of Alex, one of those friends. This picture makes me second-guess our move.
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