Got home an hour or so ago from my little jaunt down to Lincoln. We were considering staying until tomorrow but the prospect of shitty weather rolling in this evening cut it a bit early. I didn't feel like turning an hour and a half drive into a four hour ordeal thanks to some freezing rain and snow. All in all the trip went well, little Everett is doing just fine. He was born at 7:58 P.M. on Thursday, 7 pounds and 7 ounces, and he looks just like his mom. No complications of any type and he appears to be fit as a fiddle.
Now then, let me just say sitting in that massive hospital however was horrid. First off, I dislike hospitals in general. Probably some odd phobia I picked up years back. Secondly, elevators. I hate them. I'm not sure if I get claustrophobic or what the deal is but I absolutely can't stand to use them. To make matters worse Kat and I got to play tour guide, grabbing those showing up down in the Parking Garage and leading them across the labyrinth and to the waiting room. Not sure how many times we did that but it was far too many. The only upside was they had an excellent coffee shop in their lobby area. I don't know how much money I spent buying coffee from them throughout the course of our stay and visits to the hospital but I'm sure I'm better off not knowing.
We finally escaped that hellish place at about midnight on Thursday and made our way to the house to keep an eye on the dogs. Those damn dogs are so fucking spoiled that words can't describe. We didn't want them in the room with us, sleeping on the bed and basically just being dogs but since we refused the little one, Valentine, wouldn't shut the fuck up. Bark, bark, bark. Flash forward to 4:30 in the fucking morning and we finally let him in because neither of us could sleep. I was livid. I believe at one point I even said something along the lines of "if that dog doesn't shut the fuck up I'm going to stuff him into a pillow case and beat the fuck out of it." Now mind you, I'd never do it, I was a card carrying Peta member for years (before they went bat shit crazy) and I've never hurt an animal in my life. I think it was just more of an example as to how tired and pissed I was at that point. I didn't push out a kid or anything but I was exhausted. It had been a long day.
Anyway, that sealed the deal for a Hotel on Friday, which, let me just say, was excellent. We stayed at the Microtel Inn off 27th on the north side of Lincoln. Decent room, quiet area, good prices, privacy, and of course...hotel sex. To anyone that hasn't had hotel sex before, you simply must. You'll end up fucking in places you normally wouldn't in ways you rarely, if ever, would. Since we were only staying a night neither of us really worried about being quiet either, which was great. Who doesn't like a bit of screaming?
Shower? Yep. Bed? Yep. Table? Yep. In front of the window looking out on Fairefield? Yep. In a chair? Yep. On the sink? Yep. I think anywhere we could have sex in that room we did. It was really funny too, there were fucking mirrors all over. At first it was kind of creepy but it ended up being super hot. Pretty sure we left some hand prints on them and of that I approve. But after the previous night (which we fucked in their bed, I have no shame, they want us to watch their dogs they damn well should expect that we'd have sex in their bed) of no sleep the best part of that hotel visit was actually having a relaxing night of interruption free slumber.
We ate at I.H.O.P. on Friday morning, the Isles on Friday night, both meals were excellent. Burned the shit out of my tongue at I.H.O.P. because the coffee I ordered was apparently brewed in the center of the sun. Seems to be doing better now, I can at least eat and drink warm things again without almost choking in agony. Beers at the Isles seemed to help in that area as well. Really cool bar and their pizza was amazing. Surprised by how busy it was, it would seem one of the best kept secrets in Lincoln isn't really much of a secret anymore.
But anyway, in closing, good weekend, had fun, nice to get out but I'm glad to be home. My cats seemed to have missed me dearly, especially Beep. Poor dear, she becomes so sad when her daddy isn't around. Extra snuggles for her tonight.
Now then, let me just say sitting in that massive hospital however was horrid. First off, I dislike hospitals in general. Probably some odd phobia I picked up years back. Secondly, elevators. I hate them. I'm not sure if I get claustrophobic or what the deal is but I absolutely can't stand to use them. To make matters worse Kat and I got to play tour guide, grabbing those showing up down in the Parking Garage and leading them across the labyrinth and to the waiting room. Not sure how many times we did that but it was far too many. The only upside was they had an excellent coffee shop in their lobby area. I don't know how much money I spent buying coffee from them throughout the course of our stay and visits to the hospital but I'm sure I'm better off not knowing.
We finally escaped that hellish place at about midnight on Thursday and made our way to the house to keep an eye on the dogs. Those damn dogs are so fucking spoiled that words can't describe. We didn't want them in the room with us, sleeping on the bed and basically just being dogs but since we refused the little one, Valentine, wouldn't shut the fuck up. Bark, bark, bark. Flash forward to 4:30 in the fucking morning and we finally let him in because neither of us could sleep. I was livid. I believe at one point I even said something along the lines of "if that dog doesn't shut the fuck up I'm going to stuff him into a pillow case and beat the fuck out of it." Now mind you, I'd never do it, I was a card carrying Peta member for years (before they went bat shit crazy) and I've never hurt an animal in my life. I think it was just more of an example as to how tired and pissed I was at that point. I didn't push out a kid or anything but I was exhausted. It had been a long day.
Anyway, that sealed the deal for a Hotel on Friday, which, let me just say, was excellent. We stayed at the Microtel Inn off 27th on the north side of Lincoln. Decent room, quiet area, good prices, privacy, and of course...hotel sex. To anyone that hasn't had hotel sex before, you simply must. You'll end up fucking in places you normally wouldn't in ways you rarely, if ever, would. Since we were only staying a night neither of us really worried about being quiet either, which was great. Who doesn't like a bit of screaming?
Shower? Yep. Bed? Yep. Table? Yep. In front of the window looking out on Fairefield? Yep. In a chair? Yep. On the sink? Yep. I think anywhere we could have sex in that room we did. It was really funny too, there were fucking mirrors all over. At first it was kind of creepy but it ended up being super hot. Pretty sure we left some hand prints on them and of that I approve. But after the previous night (which we fucked in their bed, I have no shame, they want us to watch their dogs they damn well should expect that we'd have sex in their bed) of no sleep the best part of that hotel visit was actually having a relaxing night of interruption free slumber.
We ate at I.H.O.P. on Friday morning, the Isles on Friday night, both meals were excellent. Burned the shit out of my tongue at I.H.O.P. because the coffee I ordered was apparently brewed in the center of the sun. Seems to be doing better now, I can at least eat and drink warm things again without almost choking in agony. Beers at the Isles seemed to help in that area as well. Really cool bar and their pizza was amazing. Surprised by how busy it was, it would seem one of the best kept secrets in Lincoln isn't really much of a secret anymore.
But anyway, in closing, good weekend, had fun, nice to get out but I'm glad to be home. My cats seemed to have missed me dearly, especially Beep. Poor dear, she becomes so sad when her daddy isn't around. Extra snuggles for her tonight.
acanthostega:
Sounds like quite the adventure.
justlikeaphoto:
I've grown calloused to the various types of shenanigans that seem to plague me whenever I decide to go out of town. It is almost inevitable. I'm to the point where I ask myself, "what can and will go wrong this time," when ever I consider leaving Columbus and yet I'm always amazed by the answer is. As I said, it is nice to get out, have fun, and so on but I always look forward to returning to Columbus. Big cities are nice to visit but after living in Lincoln (which is actually rather laughable as a "big" city) I'd never call 'em home again.