Did I eat on Saturday?

Well, only sort of.
This weekend I got all of my nerd-rocks off in a furious bout of geekery I've not seen the likes of since my days of all-night AD&D sessions after band bonfire parties. Ah, high school, what wanton thomasfoolery I did partake in when I was a wee nipper.

This Saturday in particular, if we start at midnight, we will find me sitting in a boxing gym, sipping on an Energy VitaminWater, filling out my registration sheet for a Magic: The Gathering pre-release tournament. Yes, I was up until 5AM for the chance to play other cardnerds with a new set of cards that wouldn't be officially released for another week. While I thought the midnight tournament would draw out the real ubergeeks and I would have to suffer through hours of "humor" based on minutae of dorklore that I wasn't sophisticated enough to appreciate, I actually found myself mostly interacting with more of the bad boy, rock star, James Dean Osheroff types.(James Dean + Douglas Dean Osheroff=terrible joke, Ed.)

And then after all of that amazery, I caught a scant 3 hours of sleep before my biorhythms jolted me awake at 8:30 as my hypothalmus freaked out that I would be late for the work I didn't have to go to because it was SATURDAY. Stupid hypothalmus, Saturday doesn't need circadian rhythms.

Then I remembered that I DID have to go to work, kind of, because I was helping my friend host the performance stage at the New York Comicon all day. Ok, you get a freebie this weekend, hypothalamus, but I better get to sleep in next Saturday.

My rude awakening coincided with my roommate and his visiting brother crawling out of their hangover coccoons in search of greasy starchy things to soak up the poisons and fuel their early morning recovery efforts, so we trundled off to that obnoxious fast food restaurant with the clown mascott that was much better in Japan. I had a McSkillet burrito, which, as my roommate's brother quite rightly observed, never touched a skillet at all. I also put down a hashbrown, only redeeming food item on the breakfast menu since Americans don't seem to like fish sandwiches for breakfast, and their reconstituted orange juice.

If you've never had a fish sandwich for breakfast, it is actually amazing. While in Japan I was eating a lot of McGriddles just to get my fix of American breakfast sausage. It is nigh on impossible to get any kind of sausage in Japan that isn't actually a deceptively marketed hot dog.

Then, as I waded through Jedi and Bleach characters, I downed a Focus VitaminWater in the morning and had a Red Bull as I started to fade in the afternoon. I also had some celery sticks with peanut butter for lunch and scored a free mini Butterfinger at one of the artists booths. It wasn't much food, but I didn't feel very hungry. By 5PM I'd pretty much had it with people in general, though and I had to get out of the convention center or risk getting surly with the next high schooler in a black kimono that poked me with his model Zangetsu while oggling some equally as adolescent 30+year old in a Princess Leia costume of questionable anatomical suitability.

When I finally got home and showered I wanted to go straight to sleep, but sleep did not come. I guess 7PM was not a suitable bedtime for my power-tripping hypothalmus, so I turned to chemical inducements. I had a big starchy bowl of beef ramen with some tofu, green onions, green peppers, an egg and some bar-b-que Frito's Twists in it along with a Yuengling and then a Magic Hat #9.

It had been quite a while since I'd had a decent beer out of a cold bottle and it was a great feeling. I almost couldn't finish the #9 because the chemical inducement was proving very effective. I slept 12 hours Saturday into Sunday. That was also a great feeling.