best. weekend. ever.

I’ve recently returned from the best weekend ever up in Park City. I was supposed to head up and do a three-day backpack to King’s Peak (the highest in Utah), but when I woke up Thursday morning (the day I was leaving), I was greeted with bad weather news on the television. I knew King’s Peak could not happen. I still journeyed up north, deciding to just hang out with friends. And that I did.

So what is it that makes a weekend the best weekend ever? There are many things. Here’s a rundown.

Haley and I got in Thursday night, and I proceeded to go out to my favorite bar with my favorite friends and get drunk wearing a fake mustache. Whitney and I biked up to the bar wearing our fake mustaches, and if it wasn’t funny enough two girls biking up Main Street with fake mustaches, it only got funnier when we got inside and mustached all our friends and quite a few strangers. There will be more about this evening in a future post, with photos.

Friday, I did my recycling, rendezvoused with my old pup Chloe, went to Salt Lake and got my hair did, brought my computer to Apple to get fixed (for free thanks to warranty), and scored big at the REI sale. Upon returning to Park City, I got dinner with my best childhood friend, Lindsey (who I have written about many times), who happened to be in town at the same time.

Saturday, being the only nice day before a big fat storm came, was my one day to hike. Taylor and I ventured to the Stansbury Mountains west of Salt Lake City to hike Deseret Peak. More about this in a future post too, with photos. Got back to Whit’s and proceeded to watch best (worst), BEST movie ever, Motel Hell.

Sunday got brunch/lunch with Whit, Tracie, and her sister. Completely failed to notice ex-fling sitting at table next to us, thankfully avoiding discomfort and awkwardness. Proceeded to go to see new Don Cheadle movie, then to Salt Lake to pick up harddrive-replaced computer from Apple and hang out with the famous Mike Terry himself.

Monday morning biked to Labor Day party in nice weather, only upon arrival to get spewed rain on. Ate bagels, built a fire (yes, in the rain), and watched potentially the worst parade in history. Proceeded to turn worst parade ever into best parade ever by practically becoming the heart and soul of the parade from the sidelines. Dear god, I wish I had photos. Went to park, caught up with old coworker, watched Haley do uber-well in large crowds of people, kids, and dogs (so proud of her). Drove home in nice weather and went to bed.

It was really such a great weekend because absolutely nothing went wrong, or was boring, or disappointing. Everything was just perfect. And fun. And drama-free. I may not have climbed King’s Peak, but for so many reasons, I’m glad I didn’t.