EPIC.

Is there a word that’s like “epic” that’s not really “epic” because it’s such a dumb internet thing right now? I’ll think about it. Because that was this weekend.

Friday was spring cleaning day at work. I didn’t have much to do at my desk, because I’m livin’ the paperless office dream already, in a kind of neurotic way. My bottom desk drawer (the one that does not contain vitamins, tampons, and kleenex) has two orange file folders in it. One contains 10 handwritten pages of project notes I keep for reference purposes. The other contains about 12 faxes I’ve received from my friends, all with varying degrees of offensiveness.

Anyway, I washed my desk, and Pledged and Windexed every available surface. Then I did the same in the next cube over, which is occupied by three computers and Mary for an hour or two a day. After that, we spent a few hours breaking down boxes with a paring knife from the kitchen, and generating gigantic bags of trash. The boys in the office seemed perturbed, but we loved it. My desk has never been so shiny.

My boss bought us Pizza Luce for lunch, and then her husband showed up around 3:30 with beer: three 12-packs for an office of eight people. She declared that we weren’t leaving til it was all gone, so I called in reinforcements. Matt joined us, and we ended up sitting around the reception area (the chairs are far more comfortable) til 7pm. That was unexpected.

We went over to the Little Wagon, then finally bid farewell to my boss around 8. Matt and I went to Harry’s for the most delicious cheese plate ever, and then we headed over to Triple Rock for the Doomtree show. It was fantastic, even though we both ended up covered in whiskey from the jostling-around. When I told the bartender (Billy from D4) that we lost half our drinks dancing, he told us he’d make the next round extra-strong. TERRIBLE IDEA. Man, I love that place.

Saturday, we crawled out of bed in time to meet Missy and Doran at the Uptown Bar for brunch. Many excellent ideas were born, including the name of our new team. Afterwards, we all went to pre-bowl. Doran has a show Thursday, so in a display of team-solidarity, we had to stuck together for our final game of the year. Also, we’d like to see his show that night.

Matt and I hung out in the afternoon, and then headed out again around 10pm. We were planning to go see Muja Messiah and a dancehall show at Bar Fly, but as the bouncer was attaching wristbands to our persons, we learned that the cover was $30. Um, NO. Instead, we decided to get our wander on. Then this wander took a more directed form: we began the Great Block E Bar Crawl.

I suppose if you don’t know Block E, that won’t be anywhere near as funny. We managed to cover everything in the building except the Shout House, which has a cover. Those places included: Gameworks, Hooters, Applebee’s (the people there were uniformly nuts), Hard Rock (I have no clue how that place stays in business, as it was empty on a Saturday night around 11pm), Bellanotte (we got herpes from the crowd, but the bartenders were nice). After which we landed at our original chosen destination: Bradstreet at the Graves hotel. Amongst other things, the bartenders had us sampling a $130 bottle of Chartreuse. That place is so great.

We ended the night with a snowball fight in the backyard around 2:30am. Hopefully the neighbors didn’t see us running in circles around the patio table.

On Sunday, I knitted an entire project while watching hockey, then baked brownies. In the evening, we headed over to Klein’s to play poker. Pete and Christa were there with Milo, who’s 3 weeks old now. He slept in my arms for a long time while I struggled to overcome my fear of 1) hurting him somehow and 2) catching babies. I hear they’re contagious.

As for poker: I started with $20, and ended up with $20.75. Guess that’s better than my $.50 profit last time! We left shortly after midnight, and that’s exactly why I really want a nap right now.

Oh, and this morning, my parents called to ask if I wanted to be an Irish citizen. I’ll let you know when I figure out what the hell that’s about.

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