Still Recovering

Why is it that when you spend any period of time thoroughly enjoying yourself-a good weekend or perhaps a little vacay-you need a few days post-enjoyment to recover?! Or is that just me? Please tell me it's not just me. Regardless, I'm currently in recovery mode from this past weekend and the process is only being hindered by the start of the Australian Open (!!!) and school (blah).

I wish I had pictures and stories from all the incredible new places I visited around town like Jamie, but I don't. I spent my weekend mostly in one location-Tom's apartment. And I spent my time with Tom and two of his really good friends from back home. "ew, yuck, gross boys poor me I had to spend three days with dirty stinky boyyyyys". Not true. They weren't dirty or stinky. Not even close. The humor, conversation and all around good time had with a group of guys is just different than when a group of gals get together. Not necessarily any better or worst, just different. I can blame it on nothing other than the fact that I was my older brother's second shadow growing up. He took me everywhere with himself and introduced me to all his friends and all I know about sports, games, competition and the outdoors I learned from him. I think a lot of my sense of humor comes from him (and the rest probably comes from my dad). Identity crisis? No! Some of my best friends are girls (ahem, PLSB ladies, cough cough). It's just that all that time spent with my bro and all his buddies taught me how to interact with guys...I get their humor, I can take a joke and dish it out just as well. It just works.

We went to Austin for a day, there was a cool breeze and abundant sunshine, it was perfect. We spent some time at Mozart's and Spider House, enjoyed the stuffed avocado at Trudy's and even visited a tattoo parlor to watch a friend get some work done..um, let's just say that put me a little out of my comfort zone. I don't like pain and the people getting work done were squirming around with agonizing expressions on their faces. Don't get me wrong, it looks cool and I was intrigued with the idea of some symbol with some special meaning to me being tattooed in some cool location on my body, but if you try to tell me that needle poking into your skin a million gazillion times doesn't hurt, you're a liar.

Sunday was spent watching football early on then switching to some stand up on Comedy Central, browsing the shelves at a bookstore, cooking and chit-chatting at a local bar. I love cooking. I whipped up one of my favorite persian meals that I learned from my mom-a stew with red meat and okra with a rich tomato base served over white rice. I always get a little nervous cooking for people, sure things taste OK to my palate but I never know what it's going to taste like to other people. Overall I think everyone enjoyed dinner and I was quite pleased. Perhaps the undeniable chemistry between me and one of the fellows (he shall remain nameless) added to my anxiety but that is neither here nor there! The evening ended with a little "jam session" involving a piano, a guitar, a banjo and even a harmonica. Tom and co. are masters of music and it turns out I can still play a thing or two on the piano, yay! The lack of sleep has left me dragging a bit these past few days but it was totally worth it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go catch up on some tennis action before clinic this afternoon. Yes, I have a weird borderline obsessive love for tennis. Don't judge me.