The mouse is away

Remember all those times the cat (my wife) was away, leaving the mouse (me) home to watch over the kids, and as many movies as humanly possible?

Well, as a thank you from the cat to the mouse, the mouse is now going away as well.

And an already strained metaphor is being stretched to its breaking point.

This weekend I am checking in to a hotel not far outside of town for a little R&R, as a reward for my selfless parenting and support of my wife's far-flung endeavors on two ten-day trips to North America. (And as a bit of an early birthday present).

At this hotel, I will watch movies.

Pretty much non-stop.

It's something I do about once a year anyway, but the difference this time?

Two nights instead of one.

That's a lot of movies.

My wife and I both take these nights away from time to time, about once a year each, to have a little time away from parenting and theoretically to recharge our batteries. However, we have both lamented that not long after you reach your destination, you start to think about how the weekend is almost over. It's almost like the anticipation of the event held more value for you than its actual arrival.

But that's because we would arrive on Saturday, in order to come home on Sunday.

This time, I'm arriving on Friday. Friday afternoon, at that, as I plan to work only a half day.

That's a lot of movies.

Exactly how many I'm not sure. I figure to get in at least three on Friday, at least five on Saturday and one Sunday morning for good measure before checkout time. Any more than that is probably a bonus.

But I will try to get in more than that, if the number I'm bringing is any indication.

I have a duffel bag that has almost nothing but movies checked out from the library, and though I haven't counted, there could be 25 in there. I probably should count, as if I fail to come home with any of them I will owe the library money. But they're already packed, and at this point I'm not unpacking them.

I also have two rented from iTunes for good measure.

You can, of course, expect a full recap on this blog after I return.

I told a friend last night that if I had any balls, I would use this unusually luxurious amount of time to do a 24-hour movie marathon. It's something I've always wanted to do.

But the way I figure this would work is by starting at 7 a.m. one morning and managing to stay awake until 7 a.m. the next day, using some combination of caffeine, sugar, and shots of tabasco sauce directly to the tongue. But I can't finish the marathon three hours before I'm supposed to check out, then be a useless lump for my family once I return to them.

He suggested I arrive at the hotel, sleep for a few hours, start at midnight, finish at the following midnight, and then sleep again. But he's crazy.

The thing is, having two nights means I can do things other than watch movies, and probably will need to in order to give myself a change of pace. This particular hotel is not in an interesting location -- that's not the point of the excursion -- but I can get out to some of the local eateries to actually sit at their tables (rather than ordering to my room), and there's a park nearby I can and probably should walk in.

If you'd like to make the argument that it's a waste of money to spend two nights on a hotel room just to watch movies, well, you lost that argument three decades ago when I became a cinephile.

So wish me luck, or whatever the version of luck is involved in showing up at a hotel and watching movies for the parts of 44 hours I'm not sleeping. Wish me no technical difficulties, I guess. I'm trying out a new projector I bought on the cheap. I know it's cheap, but I also know it will give the occasion a bit of an extra air of festivity.

More than anything, wish me luck not arriving at the hotel and starting to immediately stress how it's almost over.

Because this time, it's two nights, not one.

The mouse will play.