Whirlwind Weekends

Infinite amounts of coffee, too many drinks, 40 hours, 3 meals, 2 people, 1 weekend for the books

I couldn’t stop staring at my phone. 2:45, 3:00, 3:15, 3:18, 3:20, 3:21…Ugh. I was so close but the minutes dragged on.

My trusty steed, a pure-bred 1998 Honda Civic, and I hit the road once again this weekend for some much needed love and over-indulgence. As I hopped on 71 South towards Cincinnati, I found myself already saddened by the thought of Monday morning. There it loomed less than 48 hours away. I’ve been traveling quite a bit this fall and, though mostly between Cincinnati and Columbus, I am slowly mastering the art of making the most out of these fly-by-night trips. Even with that skill, l’m always a bit disappointed when the sound of my alarm means saying goodbye to the people I love.

But it was time to focus on how I could squeeze the absolute maximum amount of calories and laughter into the coming 40 hours.

Stop #1: Mt. Adams

With this fella.

With a purse full of beer and a backpack of vodka, we would hike the tiny Everest that is one block of Mt. Adams sidewalks.

With a purse full of beer and a backpack of vodka, we would hike the tiny Everest (aka one block of Mt. Adams’ sidewalks).

In celebration of this guy’s 23rd birthday, it was only natural the first stop of the night was the liquor store for two bottles of vodka (birthday boy) and 6-pack of Abita Purple Haze (Me). After our sweet rendezvous with local beer and expensive libations, of which I did not buy as I am a sucker for all things purple—and hazy,  t’was off.  We hung for a while but snuck out before the caravan moved to bars because anyone from Cincinnati should know that Mt. Adams on a Saturday means: a. awkward and unwanted run-ins with people from high school b. awkward and unwanted run-ins with people that remind you of people from high school c. awkward and unwanted run-ins with people that know people from high school or d. obnoxious drunk yo-pros.

Mt Adams, the melting pot of architecture.

Mt Adams, the melting pot of architecture.

Stop #2: Sushi

Perhaps the most sacred and beloved tradition my boyfriend and I have formed is the late night sushi date. I had been dreaming of spicy tuna and a fat cab(-ernet) since Wednesday, and Izen’s Drunken Bento did not dissapoint. While we unfortunately got sat at the worst table possible, the half-priced sushi and sheer ability to feed my hungression* at unthinkable hours of the night made for a happy couple. Enter: Spicy Tuna, Dragon and Sunday Morning roll.

Antioxidants and Omega-3s work best when paired with spicy major and tempura, right?

Antioxidants and Omega-3s work best when paired with spicy mayo and tempura, right?

And God said, Let the tuna become spicy: and it was so.

And God said, Let the tuna become spicy: and it was so.

*Hungression: Extreme depression brought on by hunger. Similar to its relative term, Hangry, but much more sad.

Stop #3: Jameson

and small talk.

Pure Bliss. Until 4 am. Enough said.

Stop #4: Meetings in Coffee Shop

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Coffee houses on cold days..it’s not complicated.

After an eventful morning of unsuccessful brunch attempts and slamming my finger into a car door, I was relieved to sink into talk of social media and a cup of Chai Tea at this gem.

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My fall favorite is you, Sitwell’s.

Stop #5: Evening Brunch

Breaking News: Clifton’s Hang Over Easy trumps the Columbus location. It has a fireplace. And school house sinks. Game Over.

We were struggling a bit by Sunday evening. Like I mentioned, our brunch needs had gone unfulfilled so we waited..all day. And come three o’clock we indulged in the most glorious evening-brunch of mimosas, beer, chorizo skillets, western omelets and biscuits that ever was.

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Hangin’ over aint always so easy

 

Stop #6: Beer and Bowling

I somehow managed to capture no pictures of this. I am going to blame this blunder on sheer exhaustion and the shock-factor of scoring over 100 points in a game of bowling.

Is score the proper term for bowling? Do you call them points?

Whatever. What matters here is that I knocked down a lot of pins.

Last stop: Breakfast

But I don’t want to leave!

As I grow older, one thing is becoming clear: brunch cures all things. So to delay my inevitable departure we decided to wake up at 8:30 (after going to bed sometime after 3 am) in order to grab some (more) breakfast at our favorite brunch spot. Note my careful choice in the words breakfast and brunch here because, for perhaps the first time in his life, Devin was awake during breakfast hours.

Over a few more cups of coffee, a goetta stuffed crepe, and this devine parfait of monstrous berries and pumpkin seed&cranberry granola, I said goodbye to another perfect weekend.

My attempt at healing some of the damage done by the previous two meals and copious amounts of alcohol. Because I still operate under the false pretense that granola is good for me.

My attempt at healing some of the damage done by the previous two meals and copious amounts of alcohol consumed. And also because I still operate under the false pretense that granola is good for me.

“One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.”

― Virginia Woolf

Singin Amen, sister.

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