Get Ready, Champaign-Urbana. Here I Come!

I spend a lot of time on this blog complaining about not being in Urbana. Actually, I also spend a lot of time in real life complaining about not being in Urbana. My plan was to move back on Saturday and stay there blissfully strolling to Farmer's Markets and chilling with my cat. Alas, the Gods of Hip Arthroscopy intervened and it was not to be. I picked "walking" over "feeling like a functioning human being" and so I have another few months of marinating in Vancouver rain trying to inject some life into my hip. This is disappointing, sure, but since I'd already booked the ticket, I decided to sneak away for a week in Urbana of rest, relaxation and debauchery (oh, who am I kidding? My idea of debauchery is going to bed at 1 a.m. after having a drink or two).

I therefore may be a little inconsistent in the whole "posting" department for the next week. If you're wondering where I am, here are some possibilities:

• Rolling around on the ground clutching my stomach out of sheer and utter fullness after having polished off half a cow at The Black Dog.
• Rolling around on the ground clutching my stomach out of sheer and utter fullness after having polished off half a cow (and a serious amount of Midwestern buffet delicacies) at The Ribeye. (Actually, I think A. owes me two Ribeye meals. Bonus! You should expect me to be roughly 500 pounds the next time you see me). We will probably also spend time stalking celebrity U of I coaches.
  
• Trying to convince my cat that she should not hate me.
• Being rebuffed by my cat, who is clearly on "Team A." and even killed him a bird as a token of her affection, which she has never done for me.
  
• Eating frozen yogurt at that fancy self-serve frozen yogurt place I have been talking about since I arrived in Vancouver. ("And the yogurt isn't overpoweringly sweet and is nice and tart! And they have a full buffet of cute little toppings to put on them, like cheesecake bites! And it's actually pretty reasonable if you don't fill up the cup, which is as big as my head!")
• Hoping my car starts (crossing my fingers that A. drove my car while I was gone).
• Trying to cram a couple of months of socializing into one week. Call me, people!
• Staying out until obscene hours of the night with the Aussies and my other teammates, then going home to sleep while they have to go to chair skills or something equally sadistic the next day. Ha ha!
• Trying to sneak into various gyms and pools around the greater Champaign-Urbana area in order to keep my hip in fighting (read: limping) shape.
• Watching Bravo television at A. & K.'s place and trying not to consume all of the snack food they have laid out. (Failing at this. Devouring every last pretzel, M&M or tiny little lollipop).
• Watching "Bones" with E.C. (read: squealing at the TV every time a semi-romantic moment between the protagonists occur, while shouting, "Why won't you make sweet love, Bones and Booth? Can't you see you're meant for each other?").
• Getting my box of books out from behind K's desk (Thanks, K!) and stalking my former officemates. (Oh, room 248. How I miss you!)
• Setting up my apartment.
  

As you can see, it will be a busy week. Luckily, given my two-week spree of wedding hectic-ness, I am well-versed in lack of sleep and the healing powers of Scotch. Bring it on, Champaign-Urbana. I'm ready for you.