Ah, home sweet home. I wasn't even gone for three days, but it felt longer. Actually, I was only home for about 45 minutes yesterday to take a quick shower and pack my stuff up to spend the night with The Boy I Currently Like. So really, I was gone for three days.
My mom and sister weren't too bad. I tried very hard to be patient, but it didn't work all that well sometimes. My mom asked what I was mad about because I apparently was a little snappy. However, in my defense, I was reading and she was asking ridiculous questions.
We were the last to arrive on Thursday, and we basically dropped our stuff in our room and headed straight to one of my uncle's rooms for happy hour. After several hours, we decided it was time to get something to eat, so we went to one of the many bars and restaurants on the premises and had pizza. We were a little surprised we didn't kicked out, as we got a little rowdy.
Oh, but the night was not over yet. Most of us went back to my uncle's room for more drinking after dinner. Another aunt and uncle showed up (the parents of my cousin who was getting married), and then the soon-to-be-wed couple showed up. Not five minutes later, we got a visit from hotel security. Apparently, the 16-18 of us in the room who had been drinking for ... oh, a while, were being a little too loud.
I don't really think we quieted down all that much, but security didn't come back before my sister, cousin and I left. None of us had a clue as to what time it was when we went to bed and no one could tell us, either. Maybe you'd expect such behavior from a bunch of young people, but my aunts and uncles are in their 50s and 60s. They outlasted the three of us "youngsters" both nights we were there. I'm a little ashamed, to be honest.
There wasn't much time to do anything except take a nap and do a little walking around on Saturday. Because, of course, we had to go to happy hour before the wedding. Unfortunately, it rained all afternoon and well into the evening, so the ceremony had to be moved indoors. It was short and sweet and we got to have drinks. Turns out they'd gotten married in Massachusetts before they moved back to Portland. That's totally fucking awesome.
News of our run-in with hotel security the night before was the talk of the reception. I kept overhearing people talking about that, and it would morph into a discussion of how they were astounded by our family in general. Yes, there are a lot of us. And it was maybe half of the family; two brothers were missing, as were spouses and most of the cousins. So we're a little overwhelming. At least we like to have a good time.
The flight home seemed to take forever. I just wanted to be back in Minneapolis. And more importantly, I really wanted to see The Boy. Finally, after months and months of him luring me to his place with promises of playing Rock Band, we finally played last night. I even sang. For whatever reason, despite the fact that I have been singing in front of people since I was a little kid and I know I have a decent voice, I was terribly nervous to sing in front of him. I'm not entirely sure why -- I couldn't have done any worse than I did playing MLB '09. Oh my God, I was THE SUCK.
While I very much like to sleep next to The Boy, I'm really looking forward to sleeping in my own bed all by myself tonight. The two nights previous, I was in a room with three other people, also sharing a bed. And I'm not going to cuddle with my mom. I would have been totally wiped out had I come straight home yesterday. So, of course, I was up until around 5:00 this morning. I've given up on trying to get us to bed at a reasonable hour. There's just too damn much fun stuff to do at his house. I'll sleep when I'm dead.