Interesting weekend. The Saskatchewan Writers Guild AGM was this weekend, held at the Ramada, two blocks from my apartment. I dropped in on Friday for the opening reception and wound up puking on the crawl home at 2am. I was up six and a half hours later because Barb was coming over to pick up my book shelves. That was hard.
I remember grabbing a bottle of rye out of some woman’s hand and downing it because she couldn’t finish. It was probably that single act that sunk my next 24 hours.
The morning was alright. Barb and I hung out. I walked her to work then wandered into an art gallery. ‘Jefferson Little’ was being shown. Great stuff. I actually own two ‘Jeffersons’. Bought them back when he was known as ‘Jeff’ and we were both full time university students. It was gratifying to see him still making art 17 years later (and selling it for a shitload of money).
I stumbled into Roca Jack’s, a coffee shop on 13th after that, but didn’t feel like staying. On I went, passed the old Plains where my condo will be going up, and down Vic to Atlantis. I stood in line for 30 seconds and suddenly felt the last of my energy slip away. I turned tail and walked home. Crawled into bed and stayed more or less in a horizontal position for the rest of the afternoon.
Later I roused myself enough to make the drive to Ron’s. We watched football while Angie’s friends showed up for her stagette (they’re getting married in November). Shawn showed up a short time later and we just hung out, subdued, drinking beer. It turns out Ron hit Friday even harder than me.
Sunday morning I was up early again to attend the SWG’s AGM and got myself elected to the board of directors. I didn’t mean for that to happen, but a number of people encouraged me to let my name stand. I’m approximately 2% more important now.
I walked across downtown to Benji’s afterwards to assemble for the Rider game. They lost. I didn’t especially care. It was nice to see the fellas. Overall, it was a weekend packed with people in my life. People, alcohol and wandering aimlessly. Kind of almost perfect.