Victory is mine!

Some of you know what the title refers to. Some of you will never know. Just think of me looking smug at this very moment. If I had a picture of myself looking smug, I'd stick it in here (he he), but I'm not going to look for one right now.

So, most of you would agree that this blog should have been written much closer to when I actually got back from Tucson. Here's a warning for you from the get-go: this blog is a little personal, "what's going on in my life" type shit, so if you don't want to read any further, I understand. Anyway, seeing as I was an emotional wreck all week, I've just finally gotten around to writing it. "Why has Sven been an emotional wreck all week?" you ask, with raised eyebrows, and concern that I had a terrible time in the Grand Canyon State with my gentleman companion (Jason, if you prefer his name to my ridiculously elusive descriptions). Well, I'm here to reassure you that no, I did not have a terrible time. Quite the opposite, actually. It was fabulous. And those of you who I am in constant contact with (notably Heidi, Ang, Lindsey, and Jason) can attest to the fact that I had a great time, and that I have been an emotional wreck all week. I'd like to think that I am unique in the way that having a great time can make me emotionally distraught. I know this isn't true, however. But, let me just recount the long weekends events in brief, and you decide if you would have been sad to come back to your boring, lonely life:

• Friday night: Happy hour with a bunch of nerdy science people from Jason's department (don't let the negative connotations of the word "nerdy" turn you off here, folks, it was the smartest happy hour I've ever been to, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself).
• Saturday: Breakfast at IHOP (hooray for hippie pancakes!), Kartchner Caverns (which was fantastic, although we both could have done without the cheese-tastic musical thing at the end of the tour), a bit of swimming, La Pria Suissa (I probably spelled that wrong, but oh well), a drive out to the end of Speedway (only to be chased away by some weird hillbilly pickup truck), and The Wild at the cheap theater
• Sunday: Lay in bed most of the morning formulating the perfect pre-concert mix for the day's main event: THE POISON AND CINDERELLA CONCERT!!!!!!!!!!! And yeah. All we did other than lay around and figure out which songs to cut from the mix to get it down to two discs was go to Beyond Bread for lunch and take a nice little drive, then we got glammed up and went up to Phoenix to rock out! And yes, there is a another picture in which we look more hardcore and not so cute and adorable, but I liked the cute and adorable one.
• Monday: Bison Witches for lunch, followed by hanging around and watching TV for awhile, an unfruitful (as in, I didn't buy anything) trip to the mall, India Oven for dinner (mmmmm) and back to Jason's to watch This is Spinal Tap. It wasn't as eventful as the other days, but it was wonderful just the same.
• Tuesday morning: I spend my time getting ready and attempting not to have a nervous breakdown, an endeavor in which I was relatively successful. Of course, when we leave the house to head to the airport, I'm not quite as successful. 12:30 PM mountain standard time marked the end of my visit (that's when my stupid plane left).
• Disclaimer: Some events have been left out of this brief account for undisclosed reasons (if you know what I mean)

Of course, the plane trip was made mildly amusing by the boy sitting next to me (well, the middle seat was open, he had the aisle and I had the window). He was from Ellwood City (up near New Castle, if you're familiar with the area) and he had been visiting his Grandmother in Phoenix. He was mildly chatty, babbling about his early high school adventures and such. But for most of the flight he put his head down on his tray table and slept. Before we got off the plane, he said, "How old are you, anyway?" and I said, "23." And he was pretty amazed, responding with, "Wow, you don't look that old." Then I was like, 'Well, how old are YOU?" and he said "14." I was not surprised. I was hoping he'd say 25 or something so I could be like, "Wow, you look like a 5 year old." Maybe that's a little mean spirited. And maybe I should be happy he thought I was younger than I am, seeing as I haven't gotten carded when I've ordered alcohol in quite awhile, which has become a little depressing.

Needless to say, my entire week has been spent being upset that I'm not in Tucson with Jason. But I'm finally feeling better. After one last nervous breakdown Saturday morning, a visit to my awesome counselor, Joan, and an hour and a half chat with Jason yesterday afternoon, I can honestly say that I'm feeling almost back to normal. I even got up went to the grocery store with my mom, and washed the inside and outside of my car today. Now I'm doing laundry. And I plan to return to the gym this week, and get back into the swing of my boring, Pittsburgh life. But, I must say that I've honestly been pretty happy for awhile now. Not just over last weekend, but even before that. I've been feeling pretty good...and that's a good feeling (I feel a GREAT writer right now). Enough of this sappy shit, you're probably all ready to throw up. Let me just end with something totally random: I was looking through all the silly pictures I have on my computer, in search of one of myself pretending to be a glam-rocker at the age of 16 (or 17, could have been either), and I came across this collage of Nik Gaffron that I made quite awhile back. So, for those of you who know him, enjoy. For those of you who don't...eh, it's funny anyway.