There were a whole lot of reasons I wasn't looking forward to this past weekend - the imminent 11 hours in the car, a wedding I wasn't that excited to go to. And then, as it turns out, it was about the most beautiful weekend we've had this year - 80-plus degrees, even in The Ring Fingernail - and I was pretty pissed to know that I'd be driving, sunroof open, but still driving, rather than enjoying the weather.

But, as is the case with every trip home, the good far and away outweighed the bad. I arrived back North at about 12:30 Sunday morning, fairly drained, but really happy at what had transpired over the previous 48 hours. (Wow. Just 48 hours, and 48 fairly quick ones.)

I mentioned that I wasn't particularly excited for the wedding - a Sunday afternoon, a group of people that I don't really see anymore, a group that I'm not really friends with anymore, sadly. And, sure, there was some awkwardness - no booze, after all, so there's bound to be awkwardness. But what it comes down to it, I got a chance to catch up with people I hadn't seen for a while (there was a follow-up conversation with a high school friend, talking about the about-to-open school that he was about to teach at, until I realized that we had had that conversation 15 months ago, and that the school was now open, for six months, actually; there was the other one where one of my best friends from high school had moved into his new house...ten months ago, which makes you feel bad, but not that bad), but who are worth seeing.

Oddly, the best part wasn't the ceremony, nor was it the carrot cake dessert nuggets (always a highlight), nor was it the slide show (I didn't make it in), nor was it yelling "Mazel Tov," but it was probably seeing the groom's family. Five years, at least, and people I was never actually close to, but it's nice small talk, I think.

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The best part of my weekend, however, was certainly my three hours spent at Wrigley Field. The game was positively laid back - Barrett hit a three-run blast in the first inning and, after St. Louis missed a few early chances, it was never really in doubt. I enjoyed hearing organist Gary Pressey play "Louie Louie" when Piniella came out to discuss an apparent batter's interference call, and I enjoyed Tommie Harris throwing out the first pitch in the #91 jersey, and I enjoyed, most of all, making conversation about pretty much nothing for the duration of the afternoon. Also, I enjoyed my three Old Styles, the first two paid for by my dad and the third by me.

My least favorite part of the game was the 12 times when the doofus in the Red Sox cap said, "Down in front! Hahaha! That's how we do it at Fenway!" and then sought solace in the guy in a Red Sox cap three rows in front of him. Also, I didn't care about Papi's home run in the seventh inning, though I got the full play by play of it from across the aisle.

Saturday night saw myself and The Boy and Jenny at The Twisted Spoke and, while Jenny was disappointed that the sloppy Joe no longer had a place on the menu and I was disappointed that a temporary brain lapse led me to order a hamburger (in this case, the brain lapse led to me believing that "bovine"="pork"), I'd still give the meal a solid B. The waitress was kookilee-dookilee, and the breeze was nice, and the El provided just the right amount of distraction, and my burger had two kinds of cheese. And, as is apparently the case in most of my conversations now, the topic was weddings. Jenny set me straight - "Dude, Jews have their weddings on Sundays. That's why it's on Sunday."

So that was nice of her.

Also nice was when my brother said, "But the industry, man...that was a revolution," though that came later in the night.

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Inspired by my last post, my sister proposed a hot dog night among her friends. Sadly, at last check, it hadn't happened. I'm hoping it's happened by now.

I wrote to her about it. She wrote back. It hadn't happened yet.

However, she and her friends, in an effort to relieve stress, "took a drive down Central Ave stopping at every ice cream shop (3 in total). ...i will try to blog about it..."

Though she hasn't, it's still pretty exciting. College is pretty cool. Turns out she's done in about a month, however.

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The greatest part of work is the three-day weekend. Long weeks, those are, with ten-hour days, but three-day weekends certainly should be the balls.

My three-day weekends are as follows:
June 15-17
June 29-July 1
July 13-15
July 27-29
August 10-12
August 24-26

I'm assuming that's it.

You're all welcome to come, though I might be gone for the July 13-15 weekend - there's a possibility of a Pitchfork-fest, I think. Also, you should call first.

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A potential trip to Comerica/Ann Arbor just isn't going to work out this weekend. It could work out, potentially, but Nemo'll be pretty busy. Still, as Nemo emailed, "So, gasp, the next free weekend I have for Tig[e]s* would be June 29-July 1. Wow, that's depressing. But summer will be bitchin."

This is the second time I've quoted a private email in this post, which seems to be a violation of some sort of confidentiality.

*I don't see how the nickname form of "Tigers" can be spelled "Tigs," which is how Nemo insists on writing it. It seems like "Tigs" should rhyme with "digs," which certainly is a different sound than "Tigers." Therefore, I'll continue to write it "Tiges," despite his disagreement.

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Conversation with a Houston-based client Friday, about 2:30 Eastern.

Me: [dials phone]
Client: "Hey, A."
Me: "How ya doin', R?"
Client: "It's 80 degrees, Buffett's in town, and I'll be drunk this time tomorrow."
All: [uproarious laughter]

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I think the Bulls will beat the Heat. I think a Bulls-Pistons series could be so darn fun. Maybe Paxson and Dumars will suit up.

Deng's the Bulls best player, it's apparent by now, but it sure is a deep squad. Tyrus Thomas really is a blast to watch. He's also got the face of an 11 year old.

Wouldn't it be fun to have Tyson Chandler and Tyrus Thomas in the same frontcourt? Oh well.

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Tracy McGrady just referred to "my supporting cast." Isn't Yao like his co-star or something?

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The Cubs suck again. Three extra-inning home losses in seven days? Wow.

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There's probably more to write, but I can't think of it. I'll really try to get another midweek one in over the next few days, but something of substance will have to happen. Like, for instance, my sister having her hot dog party.