Last Friday I was beyond stoked to have a full (albeit it unpaid) week off work. Nine days if you count weekends. And I do. I count them hard. I had big plans. Irish House. Holland Heineken House. German Fan Fest. Drinking in public. Whatever. As long as I was wearing red and white (or orange for Holland) it didn't really matter where we were drinking...er where we were.
So Saturday, the weather was unbelievable. Like perfect west coast day. The Boyfriend and I headed out at 1 to enjoy the atmosphere. Walked around, took in the atmosphere and before we knew it we were in line for The Irish House. Don't know how that happened. Turns out that the Record was also in line. About 3 people in front of us. Kizmet. So now there were 4 of us (me, The Boyfriend, the Record and her friend J) and we were all equally ready to cause mayhem.
As soon as you walk into The Irish House you smell beer. Stale beer. Home. We lined up for drinks and sent J to stalk...find a table and an hour after arrival we were set.
The rest of the night included the same guy hitting on The Boyfriend and me (on opposite sides of the venue), J and the Record getting requests for pictures all night (they had awesome shirts, blue with white lettering that just said "Eh?"), the discovery of a cowbell app for the iphone (seriously is there anything that phone can't do?), an empty wallet, more space for activities, and more cowbell. I felt like I was there all night but when we finally cried uncle it was actually only 9.30. We had been drinking for 7 hours.
Well turns out some more friends were on their way to The Irish House but even with Irish passports there was no way they were getting in. So we met up with them, walked around and found our way into a bar where the band warned visiting Americans to "be careful with the beer, its stronger up here". Its true.
A couple of hours later we had had enough and walked to catch a bus. And good thing we did. Because about an hour after we caught that bus translink decided to do what they do best (fail at life) and shut down transit leaving thousands stranded downtown. Good on you translink.
Then Sunday never happened.
Monday the weather was still amazing and it was time to be with my people. I painted my toes and fingers orange, put on my orange t-shirt and met up with The Boyfriend's cousin and his wife to spend a little time downtown before heading out to the Heineken Holland House. Good choice.
We saw the cauldron again (didn't mention that for Saturday- the crowds were insane and basically I just wanted to leave- I don't like people, which may surprise you) and it was much less awful than last time--less people it being Monday and most people were in office jail. Oh we saw Plushchenko too! You know, the egotistical Russian ice skater that awarded himself a platinum medal? Yeah- we saw him.
Finally, finally, we were on the way to my people, without getting on an airplane. Got out there no problem, were hoping to follow the wave of orange we keep hearing about, but in the end had to look for old school street signs. Boo.
But finally we made it and spent the day marvelling at the ice cold Heineken that really does taste so much better when its actually from Holland, satisfying our months old cravings for krokets and fries with mayonnaise, converting those that didn't know about these wonders, and generally getting tipsy among my people, most of whom were over 70. Later on the young people showed up, but we're semi-old and didn't want to wait in line, so early it was and overall we were satisfied.
We were there for about 7 hours and left.
And this is where the problems started. On the way home I started to feel the hints of a sore throat. I assumed it was just my delicate throat scarred from all the beer drinking (I usually stick with my much smoother friend vodka). By the time we got home, I was headachey as well, but assumed that it was withdrawal.
I did not sleep. Woke up Tuesday full on sick. Headache, sore throat, stuffed nose, fever- everything. Wednesday and Thursday were much the same. Today is the first day that I can really sit up without getting dizzy.
The worst part? I'm not getting paid this week! After all this, I could have taken a personal day Monday and called in sick the rest of the week!
The Universe is a cruel cruel mistress.