The longest weekend of my life

It's been a long weekend.

It all started one chilly Friday night when my partner and I met six of her coworkers at a hot local sushi joint. I was determined to only have two rolls, some edamame and a beer, but one flamboyantly gay boy decided he would not leave until he had all of us thoroughly drunk and had surpassed his previous bill of $170. He managed to finish it off at $200 this time. And I had a very nice buzz after some Kirin beer, blueberry and pomegranate martinis, mojitos, sake bombs (I should have known better...I hate sake), and some things I didn't even know the name of.

Then Saturday came. At 11:00 we got the keys to our new house, and we wasted no time getting started. We picked up our new washer and dryer (easily the best thing about owning a home for me!), bought some paint and had one room painted by 7:30 that night. Then we went home, got ready, and went out with some friends to a local lesbian bar. We had to dance all night because there wasn't anywhere left to sit, and after a Corona, a Fuzzy Pussy (I think it was sour apple puckers) shot, a shot of Jagermeister, and two shots of something called a Blow Job (I'm not even sure what exactly was in it, but it was sure tasty), I was dancing with abandon. I guess I'm a lightweight. I should be...my partner and I, as I have mentioned before, are not partiers. I don't think we've had more than one drink a night in six months or more. And we don't drink every night...maybe once a week.

Sunday morning we got up and went back over to the house, where we finished with the second coat on the hallway, painted the office twice and put the first coat on the master bedroom. In between all this we made several trips to Home Depot, stopped for lunch, grabbed pizza for dinner, attempted to hook up the washer and dryer with my Dad (who knew the dryer didn't come with a cord to hook it up?), and my partner (very proud of her lesbianness) managed to fix our first leaky faucet. It was a busy day. Probably four hours of painting and the sore muscles to prove it. The walls are all textured, so you have to push extra hard to get paint into all the hills and valleys. My shoulders are killing me, since apparently I have become the designated maven of the ceilings.

But progress has been made. We have managed to cover up three rooms of yellow paint that I have grown to loathe with a passion. I think that color is too reminiscent of the water in the toilet after you've been drinking all night. Believe me, after this weekend, I would know! But those dark north-facing rooms are now light and shiny...and I'm a light person. The light in a place has an interesting effect on my mood, so it was important to make the place brighter. And to make it our own. Which I think, in only a day and half, we've done remarkably well.