OH SWEET JESUS IT’S BEEN YEARS SINCE I POSTED. YEARS.
So! Last Thursday at broomball. I had a kind of sore/limping thing going on with my hip earlier in the week, which may or may not have been sex-related, depending on whether the reader is my mom or not. I was fine playing defense for a good 45 seconds or so before it started bothering me. Five minutes into the game, I couldn’t run; I was doing this weird shuffle-hop thing around the ice, and thanking jebus that I was not on offense. I tended goal during second period, which allowed me to not move too much and instead spend some quality time losing feeling in my toes. I had to hobble back to my car using my broom as a crutch. It was really not pretty, and I continued limping for the next three days. So I guess what I’m saying here is that the future of broomball is in question, due to 1) my lack of medical insurance and 2) the fact that the 3day is my biggest priority, and I will sacrifice most anything else to be able to train and walk again in August. After the game, I hobbled into Keegans (wearing four shirts and three pairs of pants, which took me forever to remove in the bathroom due to strategically-interlocked layering), and found that Cindi, Wendy, and Matt were winners! Again! We have so many entries in that trip-drawing, one of us better win. Later, we were joined by Willis and Klein (does that sound like a men’s clothier or what?), and I may have dealt with my lack of painkillers via the magic of whiskey. Because, holy shit, even sitting hurt, a lot. On Friday, it was time for something that made me far more nervous than it should have: Meeting The Parents. We had dinner at the Independent, then mosied downstairs to Famous Dave’s for the Prophets of Soul, who were surprisingly good, and got us all dancing. Oh my god, Matt’s parents are so awesome. We all had a great time, and I managed to be home in bed by midnight. The realization that I could manage eight full hours of sleep was glorious. Saturday morning, Wendy, Kaye, Jumi and I assembled at my mom’s house for trufflemaking. Last year, this particular fundraiser had been torturous, spanning two entire days and much intra-team misery. This time, though, we had it down. Our group was in charge of 40 dozen; it took seven hours, but they came out great. We even made a very special batch, which will make an appearance in a couple paragraphs. I rushed home, changed into non-chocolate clothing, and went to pick Cindi up for her birthday party. We had plans for ten of us to meet at Town Talk at eight, and of course were all aware of how terrible an idea that was. The place is more and more crowded every time we go, but it was still an essential part of the celebration. She and I decided to go early, so we arrived around 7:30 and walked into a restaurant so crowded that people were clutching their throats and gasping for air. Really, I’m only half-joking about that. Nathan assured us that he would take care of us, though, then took Cindi’s present and stashed it behind the bar. We decided to go next door to El Nuevo Rodeo and wait. We had never been there before, and what better place than a vaquero bar to start the night? The server was brand-new and hadn’t heard of things like ‘amaretto’, which was ridiculously charming. As everyone arrived at Town Talk, Nathan directed them next door. We had a few drinks, including Sex on the Ranch and shots of Patron, then headed back to Town Talk, where our table was almost ready. We had dinner, Cindi opened gifts, we traded off going to the bathroom together, and then finally convened as a group in the ladies’ room, where we were joined by Tim with a tray of Mexican Wrestlers. I’m not sure I can accurately express how much I love that place. They’re the best. Willis and Katie had to go to a show, and Matt’s parents were still in town, so we parted and the rest of us headed towards our destiny: Stand-Up Frank’s. We had heard that the name derived from the fact there were no bar stools, so one only had the option of standing up or falling down. That was unfortunately untrue, but it hardly detracted from the place. We quickly found out that mixers are pretty much unheard-of, the house drink is Courvoisier, and Cindi announced that she could easily survive prison, now that she’d visited the ladies’ room. She took us in there to witness the fact that on the metal wall behind the stall door were two perfect handprints, obviously put there by someone bending over. SO FUNNY. We had one drink there (we’d have died otherwise), and took off for the 22nd Avenue Station, otherwise known as the Double Deuce. Cin and I had been there, but Kaye, Wendy, and Jumi had not. The bartender made us a round of unidentified birthday shots, bought Cindi’s, and did one with us. We headed to the back room with the strippers, and Cindi promptly took a spot at the table. Apparently, the old guy next to her gave her advice on proper stripper etiquette (at the Deuce?? I dunno.), and her only goal was to not laugh out loud while being ‘entertained’. I have no idea how she managed it, because we were all dying while watching it. I’m pretty sure she saw more than the average gynecologist. From there, we headed to the Otter, obviously the most logical way to end the night. Jumi dropped us off, and we pushed our way inside and took up seats at the Naked Lady Matching Game. There were more shots, there was singing to Bon Jovi, there was polka, grinding, and some not-for-public consumption video of Cindi, there was a dude who kept giving us all the pound and the rock lock (apparently he was trying and failing miserably at getting us to sing), there was a sign that ended up in Wendy’s pants, and there was much writing in the snow on cars outside while we waited for our cab. Best birthday party ever. Sunday, the trufflemaking team convened again at my mom’s to package orders and divide them up for delivery. It only took a couple hours, and nobody got hurt. In the evening, Cindi and I went to Kaye’s for the Szuper-Bowl, but ended up watching at least as much Puppy Bowl instead. I loved Kitty Halftime a lot. We ate nachos, and I knitted squids. (Speaking of, I sold all three squids I had listed on Etsy. Therefore, I put up another three! I hope to also have cat toys soon, as well as jellyfish! Who doesn’t love jellyfish?) After the boring football action, I found Matt at home, parent-free, in his apartment. And that’s all I’m going to say about that. Last night, we made alarmingly-good Cuban sammiches and two kinds of plantains. My one-new-recipe-a-week plan is going very well, and I just got Madhur Jaffrey’s Indian Cooking in the mail yesterday, because, holy crap, I miss making Indian food. This morning? Traffic nightmares. It snowed, and totally blew the theory about snow meaning warmer. It was still below zero, so the snow was just pancaking on the streets and turning to ice. It took me 45 minutes to drive the four miles to work, and I’m going to just pack Miguel on my back, sherpa-like, on the way home if the roads haven’t improved by now. From the looks of things, though, they have. You know what that means? It’s time to go. Later, dudes!Jenni