Last night I get a hold of a friend who I haven't seen in awhile. We talked earlier in the week about maybe doing something and he told me to call him on Friday to make plans to do something. When I call him, he's half drunk but immediately asks me whether I wanted to go to Napa today for some wine tasting and then head from there to a party. He also mentioned that it'll probably be one of those things that you don't come back from that night and that we'll probably be crashing somewhere else due to all the varieties of partying that will be involved.

So, of course, I said "hell yeah, I'm in." I need an adventure, any kind of adventure, especially an adventure that involves getting out of the city for a day or two and an all day trip to Napa and places elsewhere is exactly what the doctor ordered. With visions of sun drenched drunken mayhem dancing before my eyes, I almost skip to the video store to pick up a movie, knowing that I should get some sleep for the day's festivities. I am, as they say, stoked (I didn't wind up seeing the movie, but you'll hear more about that later). Especially as I hate to admit to this, but I have lived in Northern California for God knows how long and I have yet to do the Napa wine tasting thing.

It's 9 o'clock in the morning, the time I'm supposed to call him to check in (have to get moving early for an entire day of wine-tasting and BBQ'ing) and get no answer. Leave a message. Wait around for another couple of hours, not doing much of anything, not even showering, because my guess is that any second, any minute, I'll be getting that phone call saying "saddle up."

No call.

I finally call him at 11, two hours after I left my message. My friend answers the phone with kind of a surprised tone to his voice, you know, like he was surprised that I've called him twice already. He asks me what's up and what I've been up to, this despite the fact we've talked twice this past week. Or that last night he asked me if I wanted to go to Napa with him and a bunch of friends. We talk a bit, go through the "what are you doing this weekend" routine, as if we hadn't already talked about it and after a couple of minutes I finally bring up the reason for my calling. Trying to sound a bit on the nice side yet obviously hiding my displeasure I ask about Napa. "Oh," he says, "I decided not to do it but I might go to this BBQ but it's only for a couple of hours this afternoon. What are you doing tonight? We should get together and hang?"

And like that, visions of sun kissed drunken mayhem vanished before my eyes. And like that, an entire weekend worth of plans are shot to hell.

Mother fucking d'oh.