Old Dog, New Tricks

I grew up in Richmond, Virginia. When I lived there, it was a pretty poor excuse for a major city. Sure, there was all that history, the beautiful old buildings, the James river and the greenery. There was soul food and plenty of places to get pancakes. But if you wanted ethnic food, your choices were Olive Garden or Chi-Chis. The vegetarian option most places was vegetable sides and rolls. If you wanted to see a major band that wasn’t Christian or Country, you usually had to drive to D.C. There were, in fact, 4 country radio stations but no modern rock station. Every other car on the road sported a gun rack, a rebel flag, or both. There was a pretty cool small punk rock scene and that was definitely where I spent my free time. But other than that, it was pretty difficult to locate any culture at all.

I lived in Richmond (well…OK…the suburbs thereof) for 11 years. When I graduated from high school, I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I went to college as far away as I possibly could and still live in the continental U.S. I visited several times a year until I graduated and never really noticed any progress. So once I started living my adult life, I hardly ever had reason to go back. I took my friend Faye as my date to my dad’s wedding in 2002. Our hotel was downtown. When the wedding wrapped up at 11, we weren’t ready for bed so we hit the town. It was a Friday. But the town was empty. We went into a bar where a man was playing acoustic guitar. We were the only people in there besides him and the bartender. We ordered drinks and sat down in the back. We clapped in between songs and then regretted it because he started talking to us. From stage. After every song. Eventually, he asked us for requests. We finished our drinks and left. We wandered around for a bit longer before deciding to see what was on pay per view back in the hotel.

When my friend Frank chose to move there, I thought he was nuts. He insisted it was a cool place. Frank is a pretty hip guy, but I had a hard time believing him.

This past weekend, my dad retired from his company after working there for 22 years. They loved him and threw him a big party. He’s been working, in some capacity, since he was 14 years old. He raised 2 kids, and then, when he finally shuffled them out of the house, he re-married and got 2 more kids. My husband and I went to celebrate his well-deserved break. It was held at the Art Museum. The food was amazing. There were speeches and lots of leaky eyes. There was a D.J., dancing (mostly done by my dad and step mom) and an open bar (mostly utilized by yours truly). It was a terrific party.


My step mother leads the charge on The Electric Slide

But that my dad had touched this many people, that they admired and respected him so much and were sad to see him go, that they could throw such a terrific party in his honor, were not the surprising things. What surprised me, was that Richmond is no longer a lame place to live.


My old man gives a speech…makes everyone cry.

It’s actually really cool there now. REALLY cool. On Friday before the party, B and I wandered around. We had sweet tea and sweet potato fries at Gutenbergs, a cafe with several vegetarian and vegan options. We did the Canal Walk. We checked out the Poe Museum (inside the oldest standing house in Richmond, est. 1737). We had lunch with my dad and aunt at Millie’s Diner, another menu full of vegetarian options. I took pictures of an old train, old buildings and lots of murals. That stuff was all there when I lived there, of course. The preservation of old buildings has long been my favorite thing about the city. They really have a respect for history there. I wish Seattle would take a queue from them sometimes.

On Saturday, we hung with Frank. He took us to yet another cafe full of vegetarian options. Then he rattled off, like, FIVE things going on that day that sounded cool. Unfortunately, they were all outdoors and the weather had other plans for us. It hardly ever rains in RVA but when it does, it pours. And pour it did. We decided to go to the store and get some BBQ ingredients in the hopes that it would let up. If it didn’t, we could still BBQ and eat inside. If it did, we could wander around or maybe hit one of the day’s outdoor events.

When we left the grocery store, it had stopped raining and the sun was out. We dropped off the groceries and went for a walk down Carey street. It was always the coolest street in Richmond, but it wasn’t always so diverse. In addition to the boutiques and movie theatre of old, there are now indie book stores, knick knack shops, gourmet ice cream (chai and mexi-chocolate flavors!) and a huge record store. We spent some time at Chop Suey, a hip bookstore complete with cat. Got some aforementioned ice cream and headed back to the house.


$2 movies at the historic Byrd theatre.

And then it rained again. So much so that we couldn’t make it the remaining 3 blocks without getting drenched. Fortunately, there was a bar right there and they didn’t mind that we had dripping ice cream cones. We had a beer and waited out the rain. Then we returned to Frank’s incredibly cool row house for some porchin’. God, I love porchin’. Our next house absolutely must have a porch on which we can place a couch or a swing. It’s imperative.


Porchin’ it.

After BBQ we headed out to an event that was, thankfully, indoors: the Found! Magazine show at Gallery 5. The founders of Found! were there, reading their favorite found notes, letters and receipts and singing songs inspired by said found words. It was a pretty incredible show. (And guess what! They’re coming to Seattle this summer!).


Indoor BBQ.


Found! Magazine show.

After that, we returned to Frank’s place to shoot pool, listen to music and chat with him and his awesome girlfriend, who had returned home from work at the liquor store. She had some terrific stories about said job. We also dug into my earlier impulse buy of a Carvel’s ice cream cake. Sadly, there was no Cookiepuss, (OR Fudgy, the Whale), but it was delicious nonetheless.

All day long I marveled about how much fun I was having. I mean, when I lived there, I had fun sometimes, but it wasn’t easy. This was effortless fun. Throughout the day, I saw fliers everywhere for things I wanted to do if only I was staying longer. Cure cover bands, 80’s and electro dance nights, readings and art shows. It was like Georgetown had been transplanted to the South. I suppose it had to happen sometime. A city can’t live in the past forever. Cheap rent attracts poor, creative types, some of whom are vegan and many of whom sport sleeve tats. I’m really happy that it happened to RVA. It’s no longer the stagnant, backwards place I grew up in. It’s even somewhere I could see myself living again (if I could get past the unbearable summer heat and mosquitoes).

Perhaps the biggest sign of change (after their blue state showing in the 2008 election) is that, in December, they are banning smoking in public places. It won’t be like in Seattle. You’ll still be able to smoke right in front of doors. Furthermore, “private clubs” will still allow smoking so a lot of bars will probably turn private, using the Utah model of $1-5/year membership fees. I bet elementary school children don’t even go to Philip Morris for field trips anymore.


It’s toasted!

Yes, Virginia is now a blue state with smoking bans and vegan restaurants. Things are looking up for America. And I’m so happy that RVA is doing their part. I was filled with pride this past weekend. Pride for my (current) dad and my (former) home state.

Memorial Day Camping Recap

Esswine is an amazing spot outside of Granite Falls, WA. It is well worth the $60/night price to reserve a private campground which fits up to 25 people and several cars. Dogs welcome. A stone’s throw away from a peaceful river and short driving distance to many transcendent hikes.

We were unable to check out the ice caves due to a road closure, so instead we hiked the stone train track ruins of the Old Robe Trail. This was some serious Indiana Jones shit.

We scaled rocks and fallen trees, crossed streams on logs…
oldrobetrail

…and walked through tunnels.
oldrobetrail

The trail was alongside a rushing river most of the way. It felt exciting but still safe. It ended right after the second cave, dropping off into the river.
oldrobetrail

And oh my god, was it beautiful.

The rest of the time, we played Bocce Ball, ate our weight in camping treats, smelted aluminum in the fire to make treasures and giggled our way through the weekend. What a great group of people! What a kick-ass spot! What a delightful way to kick off the Summer of Love.

smelting

Granite Falls also seemed like a pretty cool little town. One of these weekend, we have to go back, get a motel room, and absorb the local color via their several taverns, one of which boasts Friday night karaoke.

Summer Aught Eight!!!

Summer Paid a Visit

This past weekend in Seattle was absolutely gorgeous. B and I made a point to be outside every possible moment because, wouldn’t you know it, it’s raining again today. And will do so until Friday. But then we will presumably have another lovely weekend, just in time for out annual Memorial Day camping trip. Anyway, here’s how I spent my summer weekend. Continue reading

Weekend Recap

Friday
Brugos and I rested and then went to dinner at Tutta Bella for a friend's birthday. It was really good even though the atmosphere was vaguely Spaghetti Factory-ish and our 15-year old waiter was kind of silly. (He made a point to tell us how VERY EXPENSIVE the artichokes on our Antipasti were and he had a really hard time opening a bottle of wine. Come here, sonny. Give that bottle to grandma.)

After dinner we were the yuppiest looking people at El Chupacabra. Their juke box has the Misfits on it. Fuck yes.

Saturday

My dad was supposed to arrive at 11:30am. He was only going to be in town for 24 hours anyway, on his way to California for a business trip. He got as far as Phillie before his flight was CANCELED. The next available flight out was 8:30pm. He would arrive in Seattle at 2:30am. He would not be able to attend the paintball excursion at Fort Lewis for the aforementioned friend's birthday. This made me very sad, but in retrospect, he mightn't have liked paintball. It's brutal. I have one hell of a fuckoff bruise on my arm. It looks pretty awesome. Brugos' neck bled from one hit. I'm not very good at paintball, but I did aid our otherwise underdog team to one victory. I was on the front lines. It was the only time I actually hit anyone. The rest of the time, I got hit. A lot. It also hurt. But running around in the woods in olive green with a paintball gun is FUN. And great exercise. I certainly couldn't do it every day. And it confirmed my suspicions that I would last about 5 minutes in a real war. But I recommend doing it at least once. Even if you think you're a pussy. Because I'M a huge pussy.

We paintballed for 6 hours. Brugos and I went home to shower and rest, with the intention of going out again later. After my shower and some food, I started to feel nauseous. I then threw up. I felt a little better, but not much. I lay on the couch, on Brugos and couldn't move. I assume now that I was dehydrated. But I still couldn't make it out. Just as well because the evening's birthday activity was Big Boy Poker. Brugos left and I stayed in and watched Starship Troopers, having flashbacks from earlier in the day.

Sunday

My dad, finally arrived in Seattle and somewhat rested, came over and we went to Serephina for brunch. I had the most amazing fritatta ever. It contained truffles, so you know it had to be good. People don't fuck around with truffles.

After breakfast, we went to the EMP/Sci-Fi Museum. It's pretty cool to see things like the Power Loader from Aliens and props from Dune, but both “museums” aren't so much histories of music and sci-fi respectively, but histories of Paul Allen's interests. And it really shows. But hey, it's only $15 now to get into both. So you might as well check it out once.

We went to Guaymas for a drink and snack before my dad had to catch a plane to Cali. I hadn't seen my dad in 4 years. We're not estranged. Just busy. But I didn't realize how much I'd missed him. I'd missed him a lot. He's a really good man and a great father. He made some mistakes. Mistakes are inevitable. But parenthood has got to be the most difficult job a person can have. And my dad figured it out pretty well. I can only hope, that should I become a parent, I could do the same.

With my dad off to the airport, Brugos and I had the evening to ourselves. So we went to see Sunshine (see review below) and spent the rest of the night talking about it. It was that good.

Weekend Recap

I haven't done one of these in a while. I had a really great long weekend though. After spending a lovely, sunny 4th at 2 different BBQs, Brugos and I packed up the 'Stang and headed to the coast for a couple of days of beach camping.

Our trip got off to a slightly rocky start when the direction flew out of the car. Therein lies the problem with convertibles. But we'd read them and could (mostly) remember them and we figured signs would help us the rest of the way. After we made a wrong turn, I felt REALLY bad about losing the directions. But we turned around and were soon on the right track again.

When we finally arrived at La Push's Second Beach (the internet claimed it was the best of the 3 options), we parked the car and strapped on our hiking packs. We had to hike about half a mile down to the beach. Because we had all of our food and water for the next two days on our bodies, it was kind of a rough hike. But it was mostly downhill. When we got down to the beach and scaled the driftwood, we saw our new temporary home. It was truly breathtaking. It was also, miraculously, still warm and sunny which mislead us into thinking it would stay that way. We pitched our tent (we're getting really good at doing it quickly) and lay some rocks inside it to keep it from blowing away. (It was THAT windy). We then set about building a lean-to with driftwood to hopefully block some of the wind. Unfortunately, driftwood is much heavier than it looks and our lean-to ended up not making much of a difference. It was, however, a blast to build. And quite cool looking, if I do say so myself.

We ate dinner (everything we brought was dehydrated so we'd only need to boil water for cooking) and then sat around the little fire we built for a while, playing Uno. The view was amazing. Those rocks jutting out of the water look almost other-worldly. The whole scene was really quite romantic.

The next day, we awoke to a rather windy and cold morning. Given how sunny it was the day before, I thought surely the clouds would burn off. They never did. But Brugos and I are pretty much used to camping in inclimate weather anyway. We bundled up and set about exploring the beach. First, we went out to the big rock that was no accessible due to low-tide. We saw hordes of starfish and muscles doubtless unnerved by their exposure. Then we walked from end to end of the beach, enjoying the scenery and laughing at the post-apocalyptic looking communities other campers had set up. Someone had written Jacob in the sand and we hypothesized that Jacob was the hard but just leader of their community. We were in his territory now and we must abide by his laws or suffer his wrath.

The other end of the beach was much more isolated and we climbed the rocks and sat down in solitude for a bit before heading back to our tent to cook dinner. We whiled away the time playing cards. We couldn't really remember any 2 person card games so we kind of made up rules to Gin Rummy and Go-Fish. Yes, we couldn't even remember Go Fish very well. It was that kind of camping.

Saturday we woke up to mist covering the water. It was warmer than the previous day, but still a bit chilly, so we kept our sweaters on, ate breakfast and packed up. We weren't looking forward to the uphill hike back to the car. Luckily, we didn't have to lug the water anymore. Sadly, that was the only thing we'd brought that we used up and was also heavy. Our dried soups, though now gone, were pretty insignificant in weight. Luckily, there were benches along the way for the more grueling portions of the hike. That was nice of them. Half a mile seems like an eternity when you have a heavy pack.

Our next destination, for which I'd also lost the directions, was the Olympic Hot Springs. There is a commercial hot springs near by called Sol Duc, but we wanted to go back to nature, baby. So at Sol Duc, we asked directions to the natural springs. Their directions weren't very clear and the springs weren't listed on the map they gave us. So we drove on. We were briefly stuck in traffic as they cleared a head-on collision off of highway 101. After we got through, we stopped at Granny's Diner to fulfill my love of roadside diners. Our waitress was a somewhat maniacal young lady who was amazed at how much water we were drinking and who wandered around the restaurant commenting loudly on everything. Turns out she's from whatever town we were in outside of Port Angeles. I guess being a small town girl makes you kind of crazy. Also, for some reason, it took 45 minutes for them to prepare a veggie burger and a bowl of chili. We were on Granny's time. No matter. She knew where the springs were. And while we waited, we got to meet some goats, chickens and a cat with the biggest thumbs I've ever seen. They all lived out back.

Bellies full, we drove to the springs. It was an 8 mile drive up the mountain and then another 3 mile hike from the trail head. Maybe it was because of our after-lunch smoke, but the hike up to the springs was an eternity. We thought we'd never find the things. We also noticed something weird about the people who were passing us on the way back to the car. The closer we got to the springs, the more “swimmy” people looked. By the time we got there, we were passed by people with towels, and one completely naked hippie girl. Oh yeah, the springs are closing optional. Ew. Brugos also pointed out that whenever we seem to find a hike grueling, we are always passed by smiley old couples who seem to be doing fine. That helps us cowboy us a little.

We smelled the springs before we found them. We staked out a nice private one, stripped to our swim suits and climbed into the hot, smelly water. I know it doesn't sound very romantic, especially since our springs kind of looked like the outlet for a sewer, but it really was. The hot water felt really good.

We got out and made the trek back to the car which, of course, felt much shorter going back. Then we headed home, satisfied with our nice Northwestern Couple excursion!

See pics of our adventures here!

Weekend Recap

FRIDAY

Brugos and I met The Gang Which Has So Many Members It Desperately Needs an All Encompassing Nickname at the Big Time Brewery for some drinks before we went to our respective movies. They were going to see Day Watch at SIFF. I'd seen Night Watch and mostly enjoyed it, but Brugos hadn't seen it, so we instead elected to see Knocked Up.

But first, we made use of the incredibly wonky shuffleboard table at Big Time. That thing is filled with dips and dents and slants left. Also, someone went a little crazy with the wax. The board is surrounded by a big white mote of wax beads in which pucks can be easily lost. I started in on the house wine. The Day Watch crew left to get in line and Brugos and I played one more game of wonky shuffleboard before heading off to our movie. We stopped at Safeway on the way to get some mini wine bottles for the movie. We arrived at the Metro nice and early which was good because it turned out the movie wasn't AT the Metro, but at the Guild. Luckily, the Guild was only about half a mile away. We made it just in time.

We both loved Knocked Up. See my review below! After the movie, we stopped briefly at Al's to play some Medieval Madness. We realised we were a little too drunk to be any good. We learned that some of the Day Watch party were at The College Inn, so we headed down there in time for last call.

SATURDAY

So since I'm no longer a poor college student, I REALLY need to stop drinking the cheap wine. I can afford the nicer stuff and I know my body would appreciate it. But at least my hangovers are keeping me on my toes. On this particular morning, I was not nauseous or throwing up. Instead, I was incredibly dizzy and felt like I could topple over at any moment. I helped Brugos steer the car out of the garage so that AAA could finally come and tow it to the mechanic, and then I somehow cooked a breakfast and lay down on the couch. AAA was able to jump start the car so that Brugos could actually DRIVE to the mechanic. This was good news but it also made both of us kind of angry because months ago when the car died at 2am on a Tuesday outside Clever Dunne's, ALL we wanted the mechanic to do was to try and jump the car but he wouldn't do it. He said he knew it was the distributor cap and that jumping it wouldn't work. So we had to wait for a tow. We got home so late that night. But apparently, a jump WOULD HAVE WORKED FINE. What a dick.

Anyway, by the time Brugos got back from the mechanic, I had gone upstairs and, I guess LITERALLY passed out. Ordinarily, I am a very light sleeper. I should have heard Brugos come home. I should have heard him come up the stairs to check on me. I DEFINITELY should have felt him poke me. I was unaware of any of this. I woke up on my own and went downstairs for water and was completely surprised to find him home. But I did feel infinitely better, which was good because we had a big day ahead of us.

Last year, we'd gone Urban Golfing around Capitol Hill. This year, the party was in Georgetown. We had a nice big team assembled and, best of all, we had RAD costumes. Brugos had the idea that we should dress up like the Hi-Hats, the mime gang from The Warriors. It was a pretty simple costume. Red shirts with stripey sleeves, black pants, black hats,, suspenders and mime makeup. We did the sleeve stripes with gaffer tape. I did a stylized girl version of the costume with a black skirt and a cute, girly hat. We got our makeup on at Erik and Fi's. We all looked awesome.

The Urban Golf is rain or shine. Last year it was a bright, sunny day. This time, it was drizzling. It wasn't too bad though. Georgetown is a really cool area. I wish it weren't so far off the beaten path because it would be great to hang out there more. It's very industrial and there's arty junk around every corner. There are also some train tracks which ended up being the downfall of Urban Golf.

All the Urban Golfers got a lot of attention at every bar. In Capitol Hill, people dressed in costumes is (no pun intended) par for the course, but in Georgetown, you've got a lot of working men who definitely look at you funny. They seemed entertained by us though. And us mime's got the most attention. Though toward the end of the day, I was kind of tired of people miming AT us.

My favorite hole was at a park. The hole was inside the empty kiddie pool. After I sank my putt, I made a bee-line for the giant jungle gym with the awesome slide. Others followed. The jungle gym also had a zip line on it which was a lot of fun to use. The funniest part about the park was that it appeared that not too long ago, someone had a major hamburger bun fight. There were buns all over the ground.

The flaw in the Urban Golf course they'd created was that we kept having to play near the train tracks. The working train tracks. The train operators didn't like this one bit. They called the cops. We moved holes. They called the cops again. By the 7th hole, we were told that we weren't allowed to play the 9th because it was too close to the tracks. We ended our night at Stellar Pizza, eating some dinner and playing in the photo booth. We also ran into Carly and Scot who were, naturally, surprised to see us in our costumes.

After the golf, Erik was nice enough to drop me, Brugos and Darsh off at the Brunswick Towers for some poker. Darsh was fresh from having TWO Irish Car Bombs IN A ROW at the bar next to the car. We'd only gone in to use the bathroom.

We played two games and I won a little money in the second one! My poker skills are definitely improving. I win a little bit most every time I play now. I'm ready for Vegas!

Brugos, Darsh and I got a cab back to the U-District and called it a rather early night. It was only about midnight when we got home. Of course, we'd been drinking for 10 hours…

SUNDAY

Cleaning day! After which Brugos and I watched My Super Ex-Girlfriend. We still aren't sure if it's a good movie or not. It MIGHT be a farce. Or it might be an awful film. Either way, we laughed a lot.

Want to see pics of us dressed as Hi-Hats rampaging around Georgetown? Sure you do!

Weekend Recap

FRIDAY

Brugos, Brad and I began our evening at Tangletown, enjoying the strange paintings of children and monkeys and our very Jael-esque hostess. Then we retired to the Bettie Page for a game of Catan and a movie. The movie was Who Killed the Electric Car?.

SATURDAY

The weather forecast had called for rain and gloom, but a bright sun woke me and Brugos from our slumber. At noon, arrived at our doorstep. Since it was bright and sunny outside, we decided to venture down to the Cheese Festival in the Market. As we waited for the bus, Brugos realized that sunny doesn't always mean warm, and began to regret wearing shorts, a short-sleeved shirt and sandals.

Once at the market, we decided to eat a sensible lunch before stuffing ourselves with cheese. We opted for the Bolivian restaurant with the big deck and plenty of tables. We soon understood that there were plenty of outdoor tables because the deck was elevated and windy. Still, every once in a while, the wind died down and we appreciated a moment or 2 of blazing sun and a view of the water. While we waited for our food, Brugos decided he couldn't make it through the day in what he was wearing and ran over to the tourist shop to buy the least touristy sweatshirt he could find.

The food was pretty good, but the menu was somewhat lacking in vegetarian fare. I'm not sure I would go again to pay $9 for a salad, even if it was a very delicious salad. However, it did leave me with plenty of room in my belly to stuff with cheese!

We dutifully queued up in what appeared to be the line for cheese samples. However, as we neared the table, a Cheesefest official informed us that there was, in fact, no line. It was a Cheesy Free For All. We were encouraged to use whatever means necessary to elbow our way to the free cheese. This plan seemed to lack foresight, given how many hundreds of people were milling about the Market at that moment, but if that's what we must do…

And we were not deprived of cheese. Sure, there were plenty of varieties we never even saw through the throngs of bodies, let alone got to try, but after about 30 minutes of pushing and stabbing (with toothpicks, of course), we were satisfactorily stuffed with cheese. I do hope that next year they decide to organize it a little better, however. I would like to have been a little more selective about what I tried instead of tasting whatever I had access to. It would have been easy to do. Just have everyone systematically weave around the tables in a line and perhaps give them a ticket if they like a certain cheese. They can later use that ticket to find the cheese in a festival tent “store” at the end of the line. Just my suggestion. But I suppose queuing up isn't very American, now is it?

Next, we decided to work off the cheese by wandering around the Sculpture Park. There were a few more additions since Brugos and I were last there at the grand opening. I must say, however, for the most part I find the sculptures fairly uninspired. How is rusting metal on a pole art? What about logs and metal? Or wavy rusting metal? The only sculpture I really like is the silver tree that looks like a real tree. It's still nice to walk around outside though.

We found ourselves at Shorty's by the window, enjoying some rare (especially at Shorty's) sunbeams and an afternoon drink. Boozer met us, fresh from shopping and going to a non-traditional Bride Expo of sorts at Vain. She was mostly there for the free cupcakes. After a while, the dark clouds we had seen off in the distance caught up with us and dumped rain. Mark asserted that in 5 minutes, the rain would stop and it would be safe to catch a bus. We timed him. He was right.

Boozer headed back up the hill and Mark, Brugos and I went back to the U-District to eat some dinner and plan our next move. We ended up at Veggie Veggie, a vegetarian (go figure) Thai restaurant next to Thai Tom on the Ave. I was particularly excited about the prospect of trying their fake prawns. I ordered them in the garlic fried rice. I did not realize that when they said “garlic fried rice” they meant that garlic would be the main ingredient. HOLY CRAP. My first bite was shocking. I love garlic, but I'm not inclined to just munch on heads of the stuff. That's what this tasted like. I was very hungry and ate it anyway, knowing that my breath would pay for it later. It was one of those meals that made me glad I wasn't on a first date. The prawns themselves weren't all that bad. They had a rubbery consistency, as I remember shrimp to have. They even went to the trouble of painting red striped on each one. Brugos said if they'd really wanted attention to detail, they should have added a soy poop vein.

Detailed shrimp aside, we were all kind of underwhelmed with our food.

We headed back to Bettie Page and made some phone calls. Eventually, we decided to meet Steve and Cat for drink at the Bier Stube. When we got there, it was crowded but not overly so. As we waited for Steve and Cat, however, the place filled up with students. It wasn't long before we were fending people off of the saved seats. When Steve and Cat finally arrived, it was taking forever to order a drink so we decided to finish up the drinks we had and Plan B-it back to Bettie Page after a trip to QFC.

It was one of those rare nights where the conversation alone was interesting enough to keep us going into the wee hours. I can't remember what all we talked about. There was much wine involved. I know there was talk of 80's sitcoms, the actual Jump The Shark episode of Happy Days, and many poop stories. I didn't say we were intellectuals. I just said the conversation was interesting. Around 3am, Cat and Steve declared it bed time, and we took our leave of each other's company.

SUNDAY

I awoke at 7am and my head made me aware that I was hung over. I drank some water and went back to sleep. At 10, Brugos and I were up for good and tooled around until Mark woke up. It was took late for him to eat breakfast because he was scheduled to have lunch with Faye at 1, but he joined us anyway at the Wayward Cafe. This vegan cafe around the corner is very DIY (you basically have to do everything except cook the food), but the food is amazing. Mark ended up getting some hash browns to tide him over. I pocketed a big chocolate chip cookie for later.

Mark and I chatted about funny cat behavior (give us a break. It's what people do when they don't have kids) until Faye arrived to take him to soup. Mark's a blast to hang out with. Hopefully some day he'll stick around longer than 24 hours.

Brugos had some work to catch up on, so I was left to my own devices. I decided to wander down to the UW street fair. However, the rain made me tire of gawking at hippies rather quickly. I returned home to eat my cookie and watch The (British) Office before falling asleep on the couch. Yes, I was still hung over. I awoke an hour or so later to find Brugos finally done with work. We ate dinner and watched The Science of Sleep (not as good as a Charlie Kaufman/Gondry project, but still entertaining) before experimenting with some sleep ourselves.

NEXT WEEKEND: CAMPING!

Weekend Recap

FRIDAY
B. and I began our night at a friends’ periodic Wine and Cheese party series. Tonight's theme was blue cheese. We brought a creamy young Gorgonzola that B. had purchased at the Pike Place Market and a Camelot Chardonnay from Trader Joe's. We were the first to arrive which was kind of lame, but we had plans later and we wanted to get our fill of cheese.

A lot of people were a little suspicious about the blue cheese theme, but there ended up being quite a few tasty and varied cheeses. I particularly enjoyed the creamy ones and one hard cheese, an Apricot Stilton. It was all about the Apricot for that one.

We also met a nice mutt named Tobe (probably not spelled the same way, however), for whom the hosts were babysitting.

Around 9:00, we took our leave and headed to meet the gang at Sunset to use our coupons and (more importantly, sing karaoke). Michelle, the DJ, was pleased to see us as usual. For some reason, she LOOOVES us, even though we are kind of obnoxious. She must get some real jerks in there.

Anyway, we met Sherwood and he relayed to us his gasoline story. Christy and Chris were also there, and they sang an adorable duet. Christy also sang a Prince song to Chris. It was pretty cute. Around that time, I noticed my assistant at work sitting in the back of the bar. He waved to me and I went over. He apparently had just gotten there so he missed my rendition of The Police's “I Can't Stand Losing You” with Arsenio's unsolicited Death Metal backing vocals. The pressure was on to pick something good for my first performance in front of a co-worker. Let me take this time to say, I LOVE my assistant. He's really cool and we seem to have similar taste in Cinematic Train Wrecks so work is definitely a lot more fun that it used to be.

ANYWAY, eventually, I settled on a tried and true number of mine, “Midnight Confessions” by The Grassroots. It worked out OK.

As they often do at the Sunset, events began to blur eventually. I had already consumed a great deal of wine before getting there, and they always seem to have a vodka drink on special so…several Screwdrivers later, I was kind of too drunk to bowl. But I did anyway and, pathetically enough, I was only slightly worse than I am sober.

We'd originally put ourselves on the list for 2 lanes, but by the time we got called, our party had whiddled down significantly.

After bowling, we were still up for doing something, so B. called Andy to see where he'd gone. He was at a random house party. We assumed that he had roommates with him and so we decided to crash it. At this point it was just me, B. and the Brunswicks. Turned out the roomies had gone to the party with Andy, but left after a short while. He'd followed a lady there. We stuck around for a while but didn't know anyone. After I broke their toilet seat and someone else, simultaneously, broke a box of light bulbs, we decided to leave Andy and sneak out the back. We caught a cab on the street corner and headed home.

SATURDAY
I spent the day putzing around the house before we met up with B.’s crew for a birthday party at Buca di Beppo.

It couldn't have been a more entertaining time to be at Beppo. It's prom season, after all. So gaggle after gaggle of formal-wear clad high school couples streamed into the restaurant while we slowly consumed a 3-liter bottle of Chianti. Most of the couples seemed like they had been thrown together, with girls running around independent of their dates. But there was one couple who actually seemed like they were out TOGETHER. The boy was in an all black tux with what must have been his most formal black baseball cap. Head gear aside, they were pretty cute. I've also never seen so many of the CW Haircuts in one place before. This haircut is the young male equivalent to the Rachel of the 90s.

Midway through the meal, I went to use the bathroom. My timing was good. I got in there right before a mob of girls came in. Whilst in the stall, I overheard Pastel Blue Chiffon Girl complaining to Pastel Yellow Chiffon Girl about how cumbersome her dress was. Obviously, she didn't use the word “cumbersome”.

Pastel Blue: Oh my god. This dress is so annoying. This thing is out of control. I keep tripping over it!
Pastel Yellow: True. But it's good practice for when you get married.
Pastel Blue: You make a good point, girl.

Back at the table, the boys were ogling the illegal eye candy. This reminded me of a conversation I'd had with a co-worker of mine. She was having inappropriate thoughts about our 17-year old intern until I brought up the point that the reason more men lust after teenage girls than women lust after teenage boys, is because we remember what it's like to make out with a teenage boy. They aren't good at it. At all. Back then, I didn't have anything else to compare it to and I still wasn't impressed. Brugos seemed to think it had more to do with teenage boys being poor. That might be the case for some women but for me, that's never been a priority. Brugos is actually the first boyfriend I've ever had who makes more money than me.

After dinner, we stopped in at Jillian's, since it was right next door. We played some air hockey and video bowling (which is kind of like shuffleboard). If only real bowling were like shuffleboard, I would rock it. Brugos played some ping pong and kicked my ass in darts. Around 9:30, we had to take our leave to go to the Showbox for the Blonde Redhead show.

Blonde Redhead sounded amazing, but Brugos and I agreed that it's just not all that fun to see an “ambient” band live.

The show ended early because I guess all the oldsters had to be in bed, so we re-convened with the Birthday party at the Beer Stube for last call.

SUNDAY
It was a beautiful, sunny day. So sunny, in fact, that the light woke us up early. After some DDRsizing, we decided to try and find somewhere with a patio to have an early dinner before league night. We invited the Brunswicks to meet us at Tacos Guaymas in Greenlake (which is, apparently, really close walking distance to the house. I had no idea). Of course, there were no outside seats available, so we settled for a table by the door. That's the trouble with only having sun 3-4 months out of the year. On a rare, sunny day, the competition for outdoor seating is fierce. I bet in LA everyone wants to be in the shade.

B. and I enjoyed happy hour margaritas and food. And I enjoyed the GIANT poster of Rikki Martin above the ladies toilet. The Brunswicks were running late so they ended up just picking us up on the way to bowling.

Our team this week was pretty evenly matched to us. We won the first game and they won the second. They were really happy because it was the first time they'd scored. We were pretty happy to win the first game because we'd only won against one other team. So this way, we get to finish out the season, not anywhere near the top, of course, but at least not at the bottom.

After bowling, we got a few karaoke songs in and then we headed back to the house for Brugos' Big Boy poker, while I relaxed with a Futurama marathon.

Weekend Recap

FRIDAY

The weekend began a little early. I had been skipping my lunch breaks all week so that I could leave at 2:30 to go to Portland for Scot's birthday road trip. The Brunswicks picked up Brugos and then swung around to get me. Before long, we were on I-5 south, heading to the Amsterdam of the Northwest.

After a pit stop at the DQ in Lacey, Brugos and I went into an ice cream coma for pretty much the rest of the trip.

We pulled into the Holiday Inn parking lot around 6:30, so that Brugos and I could check in. Why were we at the Holiday Inn in the Rose Quarter while EVERYONE ELSE was at the downtown Hilton? Well, that's a question for Priceline. Which I asked. And got a very snippy response about agreeing to their terms and no guarantees etc. It's all well and good, I suppose, but we were still 2 miles away from the rest of our party in a rather industrial area of town.

So we grabbed what we would need for the night and hopped back into the Brunswick’s car to go to the Hilton and meet the party.

Everyone arrived around the same time. It took a little time for everyone to get settled into their rooms and motivate for the evening. Meanwhile, I was getting pretty hungry. By the time we decided to eat at Mary's, the first strip club on our list, I was quite low in blood sugar and therefore cranky.

Getting 9 people to walk anywhere together is somewhat frustrating when you're starving. Since our party kept stopping along the way and waiting for this and that, Brugos and I decided to plow on ahead and scout out Mary's for a table. Trouble was, neither of us knew where it was. Brugos thought he knew, but it became apparent, after about 15 minutes, that he didn't. Eventually, we called the others, who were already sitting down at Mary's, and got directions. By the time we arrived, it was 9:00 and I was ready to eat pretty much anything. Luckily, their food didn't look that bad. They had a full Mexican menu. I ordered a Chili Relleno burrito and we got a round of drinks. It was time to relax. We had food, those who smoked could smoke, and in front of us, strippers danced to some choice selections.

One girl had an amazing contortionist routine. She bent her body like rubber and used her feet like a monkey, grabbing people's glasses and lighting cigarettes. She also used her feet to smoke with her butt. She got all my dollars. And that was BEFORE she chose to do part of her routine to The Final Countdown.

While the other girls didn't have any special tricks other than, you know, bare breasts, they did all have great taste in music. One girl favored the soul classics. Another danced to the Electric Six. But after seeing each girl twice, we were ready to move on.

We went back to the Hilton for a little break and then hopped in cabs to Union Jacks (the Suicide Girls-style bar). We'd gone to Union Jacks the last time I was down and I'd liked it. We'd been there early enough to get a good seat in the back and before the irritating Roller Rink style announcer started his shift. At midnight on a Friday, it took forever to get a drink, the cheeseball played the SAME PART of the SAME SONG in between each act. I also found myself filling with rage toward a guy who was sitting at the stage with a HUGE stack of ones (must have been 4 inches high), who would only put out a dollar or two for each dancer and only when she came right over to him and stuck her tits or crotch in his face. I know stripping isn't exactly the suffragette movement, but you should still have some fucking respect for the girl. She's there to dance for everyone. And while there is some crossover, stripping is not prostitution. That's why they have those rules about no touching. It's for guys like that.

ANYWAY, there was one REALLY cute girl at Union Jacks. She was in red frilly underpants and had 40's hair and big false eyelashes to match her 40's pinup girl curves. She was in stark contrast to the majority or Portland strippers with their 20 inch waists and A cups. And there was nothing fake about her body (apart from her eyelashes). She danced with more spunk than any of the skinny tattooed chicks, and she managed to make a dance to the “Inspector Gadget” theme sexy as well as funny.

Around 1:00, we were done with strip clubs for the evening. Since we were cab distance from both hotels, we decided to go our separate ways. Brugos and I returned to the Hotel/Motel.

SATURDAY

The forecast was for mid 70s and sunny and we'd packed accordingly. So, of course, it was raining. Hard. I was kind of PSMy anyway, so I was pretty cranky on the walk from the Rose Quarter to downtown, as my left sleeve, the one sticking out under our shared umbrella, got wetter and wetter. Eventually, the water soaked through to my sweater. My inappropriate shoes let water in and my feet squished in my shoe puddles. Brugos, ever the gentleman, kept offering to let me have the entire umbrella but I refused to take him up on it until we were almost to the hotel. By then, my hatred for being drenched took over and, too late, covered my whole body.

After some Starbucks Chai therapy and use of the Brunswick’s hair dryer, I was feeling slightly better. Better still after two mimosas. The rest of the party was already several mimosas in. We made plans for the day. Roxy was going to hang out with a local friend. Emily and Nikki were going shopping. Andy was going to the arcade, Ground Kontrol, but not until after he met up with a local friend of his own. For lack of any better ideas, Jon, Rocko, Brugos and I decided to get a head start to Ground Kontrol.

On our way there, we were harassed by fundies who had taken over Pioneer Square with their terrible Christian rock. As we passed by, they waved fliers in our faces and asked us if we were to die today, would we go to heaven. All too late, Brugos thought of the best response. “Are YOU gonna be there?”

Ground Kontrol was awesome. In Seattle we have Shorty's, which is cheap but the only games I like there are the pinball games, and Gameworks which is incredibly expensive. No game costs less than a dollar a play and you can't just run in there and pump some coins into a machine. You have to covert your $ to a play card which is sold in odd amounts that make sure there are always worthlessly small amounts of credit left. This sends you into a vicious “topping up” cycle from which you can never escape. Ground Kontrol uses old fashioned quarters. Most games are 50 cents but many are only 25. And they have my best game of all time: DOCTOR MARIO.

In college, Faye and I kept our old skool NES around JUST so we could play this game. We were both pretty good. Faye was better, but I could definitely hold my own. We triumphantly beat many a male gamer over and over, sending them into a frenzy. Some boys spent hours trying to improve their Doctor Mario skills enough to beat us as a game for which we obviously had some freakishly (mostly impractical in the real world) natural talent.

So it's been at least 5 years since I've played Doctor Mario. I have it on my Game Boy, but it's not at all the same, and even then, I haven't touched my Game Boy in at least 3 years. I thought for sure I'd be pretty rusty. I put in a quarter and started to play.

An hour later, I was on level 11. Rocko and Brugos were watching me. Things were tense on Doc Mario land. The Good Doctor was flinging pills at me and the viruses filled the screen. I couldn't keep up. The viruses won. In my prime, I could get up to level 14, so I wasn't all that rusty afterall. Especially since I'd apparently managed the high score on the game. I've never had the high score on any arcade game in my life. It felt pretty good. But my wrist and poking finger were tired, and the boys had long since finished playing so we went out in search of food.

There are a lot of cool bars in the area that serve lunch. But apparently none of them are open on the weekend. Eventually, we found a big blinking sign that said “BAR” and went in. They had lunch. It was nothing fancy and the waitress seemed kind of annoyed to be waiting on us (she wouldn't tell my my dressing options for my salad, instead making me, with a shake of her head, list my favorite dressings in descending order until I named one that received a nod) , but it did the trick. We were full. Rocko and Jon decided to return to the hotel for a rest. Brugos and I had no such luxury, as our hotel was too far out, so, instead, we met up with Andy and his Portland friend at…Ground Kontrol.

I hadn't gotten any DDR in the first time and Brugos and I needed to burn off the fried Mac and Cheese Bites we'd consumed, so we played a couple of games. Then I watched Brugos expertly flipper one ball for 20 minutes on the Pirated of the Carribean pinball game. He wracked up over 55 million points.

Feeling sufficiently warmed up, I wanted to play some head to head on Doc Mario. Turns out that's NOT the most cost effective way to play in an arcade. One quarter on single play can last you a long time, but on two player, you have to put in a new quarter after every round. After a very expensive tournament, we decided to see how far we could get on one quarter, taking turns on levels. Once again, I found myself playing the 11th level and dropping the, er, pill. Still, we managed to beat my (hour) old high score together. So now the high score on Doctor Mario at Ground Kontrol in Portland belongs to BB(heart).

We returned to the Hilton in the hopes that people would be able to motivate for sushi. This doesn't sound like much, but there were three factors making this is a difficult prospect. 1) There were 9 of us. 2) The sushi restaurant we wanted to go to was far away. 3) It was the most popular sushi restaurant in town. The reason it's the most popular sushi restaurant in town is because it's incredibly cheap, incredibly huge and incredibly delicious. These are also reasons why we HAD to go there.

After the concierge organized a van cab and a regular cab for us, we were on our way to Saboro's to put our name on the list and wait at least an hour for a seat. This was how you had to do it. There was no other way. And everyone we talked to said it was totally worth it. Even our cab driver who was dressed in bleached army fatigues, hasn't seen a shower in several days and grumbled like a Vietnam Vet.

When we arrived at the restaurant, there was indeed a huge group of people standing outside. We found the sign-up sheet on the door and Brugos put us down for a table of 5 and a table of 4. He leafed forward to see how far down the list we were. We were at the very bottom of page 2. It was going to be a while. But it was 7:15 and the place closed at 10, so we still had a chance to make it in.

We went around the corner in search of a bar called “Limey's” that our concierge, Dan McCloud, recommended highly. All we could find was a restaurant called “The Limelight” that had as much atmosphere as a waiting room, so we waited for the party van to arrive and then chose a nice, comfortable, divey looking place.

We snacked on tater tots and yams fries and became steadily drunk, as we waited for our names to move up on the list. An hour later, there were still 20 names ahead of us, but a lot of people, it seemed, were giving up and leaving so we had a decision to make. Should we wait it out and hope more people gave up, or should we stick around. We put it to vote. The first 5 people voted to leave. The next 2 said they didn't care. It came to Brugos. He gave an inspiration speech about how far we'd come and how good that sushi was going to taste. There might have been a flag waving behind him. We stayed.

Time goes by faster when you're drunk anyway. Brugos swigged from a beer he'd snuck out of the bar. Roxy kept challenging people to shimmy up a pole. Roxy hid Brugos' beer inside her sweatshirt and swigged from it. I took pictures. Before we knew it, it was our turn. And somehow, they'd managed to fit us all at the same table.

Everyone had warned us not to order too much. “The rolls are huge” our 'Nam Cabbie had said. “Don't order more than you can eat.” I ordered 3 rolls. It was probably going to be more than I could eat but it was only $6 worth of sushi so I couldn't not. We ordered tons of sake. Then they brought our the sushi.

Huge was an understatement. It was novelty-sized. My Tomago roll was like an omelet on a bed of rice. Andy's Unagi was an entire eel. Ann's hand roll was the size of a Subway sandwich. It was ridiculous. But delicious. And worth the wait. It really was the best sushi I've ever eaten. And even though I did order WAAAAAY more than I could eat, I took my leftovers with me.

We headed back downtown to meet some of Roxy’s friends at the Shanghai Tunnel. There's wasn't anywhere to sit though, so we got a table at a neighboring bar outside. Brugos and I set off to find the Vietnamese karaoke bar we'd gone to the last time we were down. Apparently, it had gone out of business. This was probably due to the PACKED bar across the street that boasted karaoke. We thought we'd check it out, but it was $2 to even get into the bar and it was after midnight. If half of the people in bar had songs in, we'd never get to sing. We returned to our friends and hung out outside for a while longer. Eventually, some of us decided to check out Magic Garden up the road.

In Magic Garden, everything is in slow motion. Compounded by the fact that the lighting is all red, it feels really strange to be in there. Dancers don't dance. They move like sloths at half speed no matter what music is playing. We recognized one of the dancers from Mary's. At Mary's her slow movements had seemed out of place. Here, it's par for the course.

A drunk girl in front of us kept whispering and laughing and pointing toward us. I'm not sure what was so funny. Later, she spilled her drink all over the place. Magic Garden was making me sleepy and our mandatory drink was making my stomach hurt so I was glad that people seemed to be winding down. Brugos and I got a cab and it was back to the H.D.

SUNDAY

This time when we awoke, it was blindingly sunny outside. A nice day to walk to the Hilton. We checked out and strolled in the sun, past the giant Barry Manilow billboard that was our beacon, and over the bridge to downtown.

We met the Brunswicks on the street on their way to the Doc Martins store and they gave us their room key to hang out until they got back. Then they checked out and we hit the road in search of breakfast.

The others had already found a place, and by the time we got there, there was a 45 minute wait for a table, so we said goodbye and ventured out on our own. It was Easter Sunday so a lot of places were either closed or packed. In the end, we found ourselves back at the BAR that had saved us the day before. It was actually called Kelly's Olympian and they had breakfast all day.

We walked back to the car which was parked in front of a large building (I think it's a post office) with big ornate golden doors. It reminded us of the bank in Mary Poppins, so we all started dancing and singing and doing our best Van Dyke's. Brugos' Van Dyke involved accidentally elbowing me in the nose and teeth. I was fine, but it would have made for a funny black eye story.

We contemplating jetting out of town right then, but Roxy got a call from her friend and they wanted to meet at The Avalon, which was, allegedly, a nickel arcade.

I know it's probably for novelty's sake, but I don't think it's right to call yourselves a nickel arcade, and still accept only nickels when your games all cost FOUR OR FIVE NICKELS. That's $25 cents. There's a whole other coin for that.

No matter though. They had skee ball and pinball (but, regrettably, no wack-a-mole) and the ability to collect tickets which cost several dollars to acquire and then spend them on nearly worthless trinkets and waxy candy. It was pretty fun.

We were now ready to hit the road.

For some reason, there are two places that always seem like a good idea on road trips. Dairy Queen (which we'd visited on the way down) and Taco Bell. So, once again in Lacey, we found ourselves at the Taco Bell. While Rocko was in the bathroom, Roxy predicted what Rocko would want to order. The Grande Meal: 10 tacos, or burritos for $8. We laughed and made jokes about taking so many years off your life with 10 tacos just to achieve “value”. But when Rocko came out of the bathroom, lo and behold, he told Roxy he was thinking about getting the Grande Meal. After the teasing, he decided to cut his taco intake in half. I got a “quesadilla” (their interpretation of which is nacho cheese inside a tortilla) and their version of the “Apple Pie” the “Empanada”. While we ate, Brugos and I noticed an odd fellow lumbering through the restaurant. He was tall with an Eraserhead head of gray hair and an ill-fitting gray suit which was busting at EVERY seam. His ashen face wore an expression of world-wearyness. He was definitely on his last thread. Perhaps he was on some kind of wacky road trip to get home to his family by Easter, but nothing was going right. Perhaps his carefree (hilariously tubby) traveling companion of convenience was in the bathroom. Or perhaps he was a zombie risen from the grave with an insatiable craving for the one food that gave him comfort in life. Whatever his story, he was not happy. He read his newspaper in the seat with both hands on his forehead. Unfortunately, the Brunswicks had their backs to him. They didn't see him. Maybe he was a shared hallucination for me and Brugos from too much artificial cheeze. I'm just glad we saw him. This is the appeal of Taco Bell. It's not the Challupas.

Back in the car, we finished out the rest of the trip with me and Rocko taking turns selecting individual songs on my ipod. I have a 60GB ipod and it's full of music. There are no videos taking up needless space. This is great because I have all my music with me at all times. But it is also extremely overwhelming at times. So it's refreshing to have someone else go through your music and pick out songs. His choices gave me ideas and we fed off each other, playing DJ the rest of the way home. We sang along at the top of our lungs. It's an incredibly fun way to listen to your own ipod.

The Brunswicks pulled into our driveway at 7:30. There was no league that night on account of Easter, but we'd planned to go bowling anyway. We were too tired to lift a ball. We said goodbye and Brugos and I spent the evening vegging on the couch instead. Great trips are always completely exhausting.

Pics from Portland here!

Weekend Recap

FRIDAY

Not having gotten a real rest since getting back from Austin, Brugos and I decided to stay in on Friday. We ate home-made pizza and watched Idiocracy before falling asleep. Not very exciting, but it needed to be done.

SATURDAY

We spent much of the day on the couch. In the evening we decided to use the bowling coupons we received from out league organizer. Jon and Emily picked us up and we got to Sunset around 7:00. Andy had already put our name in for two lanes. He was sitting in the bar with two of his friends I'd never met and Roxy. We set about drinking while we waited for our lanes. The special was the Bay Breeze, so Brugos and I ordered round after round of those. They actually didn't seem all that strong but they were mighty delicious, so we kept ordering them.

We bowled 3 games. The first two were pretty good. Better than we'd done on our first league night. The last one was pretty crap for all of us. We were tired and the alcohol was kicking in. It was time to karaoke.

The Sunset Bowl Karaoke crowd is a strange one. You have your frat boys, your spunky college kids, your slutty townies and your just plain odd ducks. Brugos and I attempted to sing Paradise by the Dashboard Light but it turns out he didn't know it that well, so I sang most of it rather awkwardly. Brugos sang some Led Zeppelin on his own. Emily sang The Humpty Dance and I put in a staple for myself: One by Three Dog Night, to make up for the awkwardness of our first performance. The weirdness was intermittent. While Emily and one of Andy's friends sang Pour Some Sugar On Me, some random girl got up and started dancing. Right in front of them. Suggestively. She bend over and showed her thong to the crowd. She rubbed up against the girls. She jiggled her stuff until the karaoke host came over and politely asked her to sit down. She complied, but not before giving one last defiant ass-shake to the crowd. When she got back to her table, she lifted her shirt high above her head and placed it over her male companion's head.

Seattle Karaoke Notable, Anne, was there. You might remember Anne from previous blog posts about karaoke nights. She used to be at Jai Thai when Angel hosted karaoke there on Saturdays. From what I can gather, she's either a pre-op trannie or a post-op who needs to sue her surgeon. She seems very sweet though. Apparently, she goes by the name of Krissy, these days, and is meeting everyone anew under new name. She introduced herself to all the girls in the bar who did a number, told them they were beautiful and sung well.

Right before everyone tired of the scene, a group of, I guess, college kids in “dress up” came in and took over the back table. I'm not sure what their deal was. Roxy described their look as kids who'd raided their mother's closet. They wore mismatched outfits and boas and hats with no discerning theme unless “Elton John has gone blind” is a theme.

Anyway, we paid our tab, and I discovered that Brugos and I had imbibed 7 Bay Breezes each. They must not have had too much alcohol in them because we were both still standing and somewhat coherent. We retired to the 4A house.

At the 4A house, we stood around for a while. Roxy and I went on a beer run and I impulsively bought a box of macaroons. I definitely must have been drunk. After we returned, I coerced everyone into a game of Asshole. Before we knew it, it was 3am, and Brugos and I were ready for bed. Rocko had called a cab for him, Roxy and us, but Roxy wasn't ready to go, so Brugos and I gladly took the cab straight home.

SUNDAY

It was a beautiful day, but Brugos and I had the rather daunting task at hand of picking up my bed from and cleaning my old apartment. I am finally out of there and everything is spotless. By the time we finished, however, I could barely lift my arms so I wasn't really expecting to do well at out league night, even with Saturday's practice.

In the end, however, I did about the same. No better or worse. We got home around 9, with enough time for some well needed vegging, including watching the season finale of BSG which was…well, OMG.

So…Holy crap! I definitely though Chief or Tigh MIGHT be Cylons, but certainly not BOTH of them PLUS Roslin's crappy P.A. and a professional Pyramid Ball player. Whoa. I'm really happy Chief is a frackin' toaster though. Makes me love him even more as I, myself, am a toaster lover. I wonder what Sharon will say!

And I KNEW Starbuck wasn't dead. I can't wait to find out what happened to her. And who the fifth Cylon is (Brugos still thinks it's Starbuck). But I guess I'll have to wait till…2008! Ack!