oh I believe in yesterday
Aug. 13th, 2005 01:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
verbicideYesterday was fabulous. It had started out rather unpromising. I'd had a bad headache and not enough sleep. I mean, as a work day it was pretty normal. But I got to have lunch with Ellie. Which, can I say...it's so silly, but I was seized with this weird 'noooooooooo' feeling because yes, it meant I would not be having lunch with Jeff. But I was very, very excited to see Ellie, especially since I haven't seen her in a month almost.
While waiting for her outside her office, I got a call from the delectable![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dtaylor. And once I realized who it was, I went completely shrill with excitement, but then had to get off the phone because I was double-parked and Ellen had just leaped into my car. We drove to a Persian place near Safeco Stadium and the chicken kebabs were particularly good.
Something bad had happened on 99, so traffic had spilled over onto the streets and there was a lot of not-moving. Lunch took a bit longer than I'd expected, so I raced back in to deal with some pressing work.
Then I realized that I could, ya know, actually call Dawn back. Giddy as a schoolgirl, I dialed her number. And we chaaaaaaatted! *beam* I would listen to her brilliant comments and then my mouth would open and close (fishlike) as I tried to think of something smart to say. But instead I did what I do best. I squee'd. It was very, very exciting. There was talk of a visit (ooo) and we eventually had to get back to work, or some approximation of it.
It's so funny, Dawn referred to my life as a carnival. I'm self-absorbed enough to be fascinatedly nonplussed. I never.. I mean. I think of my life as fairly uneventful. I mean, I like it. Busy, sometimes. But not like Judy's. But, hrm. And then I sat there thinking about what my life looks like to other people. Sarah always laughs at me because I never think of people thinking about me or having an opinion about me. And when I find out they do, it completely startles me for some reason. But then, I startle very easily.
I don't normally troll for comments, and perhaps I'll do a poll (because I want to make it easier for you, beloved friendslisters). Hrm. But um, comment if you would uh, like to. Yeah, okay. I have no idea what I'm asking. My big brother would just say I have poor time management skills. And then I would maturely respond by punching him.
So. Anyway.
Another thing that Dawn said that made my day was that she loved Jeff and especially how I portray him as enduring my insanity. I gleefully chortled this to Jeff immediately after, who complains that I make him sound like some perfect creature on LJ and people must roll their eyes at him. I explained, patiently, that he was once again WRONG. And that everyone is required to love him. Because he is freakishly adorable and perfect.
YOU ALL LOVE HIM, RIGHT???
It was very sweet actually. I was talking about LJ and how I love my blog in all it's self-absorbed glory. And he genuinely protested. Saying that mine wasn't like that. And how mine was interesting (*preen*). And he went on and I had to laugh and say finally, "Yeah, but Jeff. Of course you find it interesting. I'm one of your best freaking friends. You don't think there's a bit of bias going on there?" And he had a very cute (yet bristling with manpower) expression. I think because he knew I'd got him. And I mean, it's okay. If there was ever a place to bask in self-absorption, it's your freaking blog.
I was fairly bouncy from then on.
But then it was 6pm and I was damn tired.
The plan was to meet Sarah and Maaaaaaaaaaaatt for dinner. But when I called them, they (on 2 hours sleep themselves) didn't quite have a plan ready. And once I go home, it's really hard to get me out of my cocoon. So since I was tired and impatient, I said that maybe I could just see them tomorrow. It was silly because I was dying to meet MattMattMatt, Sarah's childhood friend. But I was also overly tempted by the thought of home and couch.
So we said, "Um, okay. Maybe tomorrow then." And I buggered off for home. Once home, I fed Hobbes, ordered some Chinese food and changed into my pjs. And that's when Sarah called. I tell you, she is an irresistible vixen. She said that basically they were coming to pick me up and we were going to dinner at Brad's Swingside Cafe. I have no resistance against that kind of charm. Especially not when she uses CuteVoice. She got here at the same time as the Chinese food (which I crammed into my fridge) and we were off.
The aglio olio is a thing to be worshipped at Brad's. So we all pasta'd up before going back to Sarah's for a pit stop (and some really excellent Shiraz that Matt had brought). A cab ride to Fado's (which, there are fast cab drivers and there are aggressive cab drivers, as Matt put it—this guy was just reckless, it was very traumatic) and the fun officially began.
Matt. Matt freaking rules. It's so weird to meet someone you already know. But I've known Matt, both through Sarah and through our own online interactions. I knew he'd be cool (every friend of Sarah's I've ever met has been spectacular), but this was MATT. He is the cutest thing on legs, very smart, very cool, and very fun to hang out with. We like a lot of the same things and he's awesome to discuss and debate with. As I drunkenly crooned at him last night, I LOVE YOU, MAN.
Matt ordered us 3 Irish Car Bombs. It's half a pint of Guinness with a shot of Bailey's Irish Crème dropped into the center. I don't drink beer. I want to like it, I really do. But I hate it. And I can't freaking stand the thick bitterness that is stout. Matt instructed us to drop the shot into the center of the glass and chug. I said, "Um, no. Sorry. I can't do that." But he commanded, and after watching them, I hurled one down. It was awesome. The sweetness of the Bailey's completely negated the bitterness of the beer. In addition to four of those, I also had two Washington Apples, which I don't know what's in them, but they taste like really good, really strong cider.
Funniest, and most OBNOXIOUS moment: Matt and Sarah were talking about some woman they'd seen who looked like a reject from an 80s teen movie. He said to Sarah, "God, can you imagine what high school was like back then." He swiveled around to face me, and deadpanned, "What was it like back then?!" as Sarah and I spit out our drinks laughing. Hrmmph! Serves me right for having younger friends. I love hanging out with Kim's husband Chuck (who is in his 60s and on whom I have an enormous crush) because I feel like such a young, frisky thing. Unlike with the deux enfant terrible's last night.
We were all pretty trashed by the time the bar was almost closed and we left.
The beer had hit poor Sarah a bit hard, so Matt and I bundled her into a cab off to Queen Anne, and I tried to catch one to Ballard. The first cabbie turned me down because he didn't want to deal with a credit card and so I didn't mention it again until the second driver already had a move on. But he was nice. And omg so chatty. I was grateful he wasn't an asshole like the first guy, but my head was spinning and he kept talking about the various fares and doing math for some reason while I tried to respond as friendly as possible.
Finally home sweet home. Hobbes thought it was Second Dinner time and was ignored. I pretty much fell face down into bed.
I don't get hungover, and I'm not today. Just dehydrated. But I think I get this weird muscle spasm in my calf. This is the second time it's happened recently (the first was drunken-times with Ida) and it hurts like a motherfucker. I stretch my legs in bed, and the muscle in my left calf explodes and I have to leap out of bed to try to kick it out and hop on one foot. It's a jarring way to get up, and I'm glad I'm not dealing with nauseated spins to boot.
Hobbes was extremely persistent this morning about food. And I ignored him as long as I could. Generally unsuccessfully.
It's been a gloriously relaxing morning. I had a good long chat with my big brother about condo-purchasing. Once the triathlon is over, I'm going to start the process of researching home buying in Seattle and interviewing people. Brokers, agents, etc. I tend to get emotional about, well, everything, and I want to be as well-informed and prepared as humanly possible.
Today is the ride to Seward park. I'm anxious about the heat. I'm irrationally irritated that it's still so freaking sunny and hot. I really hope next weekend is mild. But I figure, I'm not going to try to kill myself with the ride this weekend. If it's really hot and horrible, it's going to be shorter. I know I can do 12 miles in really horrible conditions as a one time thing. But I don't want repeated misery, because I don't want to ultimately hate cycling.
Tomorrow is packed. Swim in Lake Washington in the morning and then off to my coworkers babyshower. Hopefully I will survive the swim. I'm terrified and grossed out by it. But I may as well do a dry (wet?) run this weekend to prepare for next.
While waiting for her outside her office, I got a call from the delectable
dtaylor. And once I realized who it was, I went completely shrill with excitement, but then had to get off the phone because I was double-parked and Ellen had just leaped into my car. We drove to a Persian place near Safeco Stadium and the chicken kebabs were particularly good.Something bad had happened on 99, so traffic had spilled over onto the streets and there was a lot of not-moving. Lunch took a bit longer than I'd expected, so I raced back in to deal with some pressing work.
Then I realized that I could, ya know, actually call Dawn back. Giddy as a schoolgirl, I dialed her number. And we chaaaaaaatted! *beam* I would listen to her brilliant comments and then my mouth would open and close (fishlike) as I tried to think of something smart to say. But instead I did what I do best. I squee'd. It was very, very exciting. There was talk of a visit (ooo) and we eventually had to get back to work, or some approximation of it.
It's so funny, Dawn referred to my life as a carnival. I'm self-absorbed enough to be fascinatedly nonplussed. I never.. I mean. I think of my life as fairly uneventful. I mean, I like it. Busy, sometimes. But not like Judy's. But, hrm. And then I sat there thinking about what my life looks like to other people. Sarah always laughs at me because I never think of people thinking about me or having an opinion about me. And when I find out they do, it completely startles me for some reason. But then, I startle very easily.
I don't normally troll for comments, and perhaps I'll do a poll (because I want to make it easier for you, beloved friendslisters). Hrm. But um, comment if you would uh, like to. Yeah, okay. I have no idea what I'm asking. My big brother would just say I have poor time management skills. And then I would maturely respond by punching him.
So. Anyway.
Another thing that Dawn said that made my day was that she loved Jeff and especially how I portray him as enduring my insanity. I gleefully chortled this to Jeff immediately after, who complains that I make him sound like some perfect creature on LJ and people must roll their eyes at him. I explained, patiently, that he was once again WRONG. And that everyone is required to love him. Because he is freakishly adorable and perfect.
YOU ALL LOVE HIM, RIGHT???
It was very sweet actually. I was talking about LJ and how I love my blog in all it's self-absorbed glory. And he genuinely protested. Saying that mine wasn't like that. And how mine was interesting (*preen*). And he went on and I had to laugh and say finally, "Yeah, but Jeff. Of course you find it interesting. I'm one of your best freaking friends. You don't think there's a bit of bias going on there?" And he had a very cute (yet bristling with manpower) expression. I think because he knew I'd got him. And I mean, it's okay. If there was ever a place to bask in self-absorption, it's your freaking blog.
I was fairly bouncy from then on.
But then it was 6pm and I was damn tired.
The plan was to meet Sarah and Maaaaaaaaaaaatt for dinner. But when I called them, they (on 2 hours sleep themselves) didn't quite have a plan ready. And once I go home, it's really hard to get me out of my cocoon. So since I was tired and impatient, I said that maybe I could just see them tomorrow. It was silly because I was dying to meet MattMattMatt, Sarah's childhood friend. But I was also overly tempted by the thought of home and couch.
So we said, "Um, okay. Maybe tomorrow then." And I buggered off for home. Once home, I fed Hobbes, ordered some Chinese food and changed into my pjs. And that's when Sarah called. I tell you, she is an irresistible vixen. She said that basically they were coming to pick me up and we were going to dinner at Brad's Swingside Cafe. I have no resistance against that kind of charm. Especially not when she uses CuteVoice. She got here at the same time as the Chinese food (which I crammed into my fridge) and we were off.
The aglio olio is a thing to be worshipped at Brad's. So we all pasta'd up before going back to Sarah's for a pit stop (and some really excellent Shiraz that Matt had brought). A cab ride to Fado's (which, there are fast cab drivers and there are aggressive cab drivers, as Matt put it—this guy was just reckless, it was very traumatic) and the fun officially began.
Matt. Matt freaking rules. It's so weird to meet someone you already know. But I've known Matt, both through Sarah and through our own online interactions. I knew he'd be cool (every friend of Sarah's I've ever met has been spectacular), but this was MATT. He is the cutest thing on legs, very smart, very cool, and very fun to hang out with. We like a lot of the same things and he's awesome to discuss and debate with. As I drunkenly crooned at him last night, I LOVE YOU, MAN.
Matt ordered us 3 Irish Car Bombs. It's half a pint of Guinness with a shot of Bailey's Irish Crème dropped into the center. I don't drink beer. I want to like it, I really do. But I hate it. And I can't freaking stand the thick bitterness that is stout. Matt instructed us to drop the shot into the center of the glass and chug. I said, "Um, no. Sorry. I can't do that." But he commanded, and after watching them, I hurled one down. It was awesome. The sweetness of the Bailey's completely negated the bitterness of the beer. In addition to four of those, I also had two Washington Apples, which I don't know what's in them, but they taste like really good, really strong cider.
Funniest, and most OBNOXIOUS moment: Matt and Sarah were talking about some woman they'd seen who looked like a reject from an 80s teen movie. He said to Sarah, "God, can you imagine what high school was like back then." He swiveled around to face me, and deadpanned, "What was it like back then?!" as Sarah and I spit out our drinks laughing. Hrmmph! Serves me right for having younger friends. I love hanging out with Kim's husband Chuck (who is in his 60s and on whom I have an enormous crush) because I feel like such a young, frisky thing. Unlike with the deux enfant terrible's last night.
We were all pretty trashed by the time the bar was almost closed and we left.
The beer had hit poor Sarah a bit hard, so Matt and I bundled her into a cab off to Queen Anne, and I tried to catch one to Ballard. The first cabbie turned me down because he didn't want to deal with a credit card and so I didn't mention it again until the second driver already had a move on. But he was nice. And omg so chatty. I was grateful he wasn't an asshole like the first guy, but my head was spinning and he kept talking about the various fares and doing math for some reason while I tried to respond as friendly as possible.
Finally home sweet home. Hobbes thought it was Second Dinner time and was ignored. I pretty much fell face down into bed.
I don't get hungover, and I'm not today. Just dehydrated. But I think I get this weird muscle spasm in my calf. This is the second time it's happened recently (the first was drunken-times with Ida) and it hurts like a motherfucker. I stretch my legs in bed, and the muscle in my left calf explodes and I have to leap out of bed to try to kick it out and hop on one foot. It's a jarring way to get up, and I'm glad I'm not dealing with nauseated spins to boot.
Hobbes was extremely persistent this morning about food. And I ignored him as long as I could. Generally unsuccessfully.
It's been a gloriously relaxing morning. I had a good long chat with my big brother about condo-purchasing. Once the triathlon is over, I'm going to start the process of researching home buying in Seattle and interviewing people. Brokers, agents, etc. I tend to get emotional about, well, everything, and I want to be as well-informed and prepared as humanly possible.
Today is the ride to Seward park. I'm anxious about the heat. I'm irrationally irritated that it's still so freaking sunny and hot. I really hope next weekend is mild. But I figure, I'm not going to try to kill myself with the ride this weekend. If it's really hot and horrible, it's going to be shorter. I know I can do 12 miles in really horrible conditions as a one time thing. But I don't want repeated misery, because I don't want to ultimately hate cycling.
Tomorrow is packed. Swim in Lake Washington in the morning and then off to my coworkers babyshower. Hopefully I will survive the swim. I'm terrified and grossed out by it. But I may as well do a dry (wet?) run this weekend to prepare for next.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-08-13 09:43 pm (UTC)Just sayin'.
no subject
Date: 2005-08-14 03:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-13 10:28 pm (UTC)And Tell Jeff that people like to IDENTIFY WITH the nice, "sane" character in these kinds of stories (think of Mr. Kotter on "Welcome Back, Kotter" & Judd Hirsch's character on "Taxi" ...). ;-)
no subject
Date: 2005-08-14 03:47 am (UTC)And I will tell Jeff just that. He'll get a kick out of it!