all the crap that you believe in (oh yeah, and a weekend update)
so here's a summary of my weekend. it was one of my more fantastic weekends.
first, I left work early, gave myself shades of a pedicure while watching Out of Gas (Firefly), and agonized over what to wear. then I walked to Cafe Jordano, where Clay, Olivier, Jo, Tim, Emma and I met up for dinner. it was nice... Jo chose the wine, and the desserts were pretty nice. My food was bland, though everyone else's tasted better. Backstory there is that my parents have tried eating there several times, before and after it got famous, and everything they order doesn't have enough salt or garlic. The place does get credit for having selections of buffalo on the menu. Emma was insanely hyper, so we laughed at her.
Then we headed out for dancing. Contra at the Temple Events Center, where Tim had before done step dance. Everyone had an absolute ball and we've already agreed to go again in two weeks. We spun, we laughed, we waltzed, we shouted HEY. I got a blister from my shoes, started dancing barefoot, and got blisters on the balls of my feet. They gave us coupons to get in free next time: everyone but me was a first-timer, and I brought in five new faces. Score.
After contra, we went back to my place and spent a good long while in the hot tub before everyone headed home. Good times, ice cream, and Olivier as a submarine and NOT a frog. Tim doesn't believe that it's as insulting as I thought it was. I'm trying to remember where I got this impression. Straight to bed for me after the tub, because the next morning we went whitewater rafting.
Woke up after four hours of sleep, slept all the way to Buena Vista (for you non-natives, that's pronounced BYU-na vista, and locals just call it "the bunie"), and went rafting. Most of the river was pretty calm, which was a letdown, and the rapids we did hit were okay, but not as intense as some of the stuff I remember from two summers ago in Montana. We stopped partway down the river for lunch because it was a full-day trip. I got in the river twice, but both of them willingly: one off of Jump Rock, a 15-foot drop into cold water, and the other at Last Chance, when Mom and I "swam" (feet-first on-the-back floating) through Class 2 rapids, which barely make the boat bump. Dad and Zach each took a swim, though: Dad at the hole at the end of the Juicer, when everyone suddenly fell to the left, Dad fell out and Zach, in his adrenaline rush, thought he could pull Dad back by the foot. He got back in safely once Zach let go. Then, during Last Chance, the raft hit an unexpected bump and out Zach went, leaving two in the boat and three in the water. The boys got to sign the "Arkansas River Swim Team" kayak back at headquarters. We bought a photo, which I should be scanning soon.
We drove through South Park on the way there and back, so now I can say I've been through there. And then we got back home and Mom and Dad went to a Relay for Life in the northern Denver area?, Zach's friends came over, and I got ready to go out drinking with Em, Tim, Clay, and Paul (the grown-up French escort for Clay's high school kids). Tim arrived on his bicycle so we could drive to Clay's together. Tim and I pulled in at the same time as Emma, and we were all late, so we only had half an hour to pregame. I beat both the other drinkers by a full drink, and we all later realized we hadn't drunk enough. Emma only wanted her two, and thought that more would be too much, but realized it wasn't enough on the way downtown, when it wore off.
We started the evening downtown with Clay and me singing Don Quixote, then meeting up with Paul on the 16th Street Mall, and then heading to the Falling Rock Brewery, which has a HUGE selection of beers. Tim had something Scottish, Paul had something sweet, Emma had apricot mead and I got a chocolate stout. Second drink: Tim the same, Em nothing, Paul something, and me a lovely framboise lambic (it's like, 70 percent raspberry juice and very little percent beer. Or something). From there, we went to Lime, where I'd heard from Mom that they serve tequila shots out of a lightly-squeezed half of a lime. She neglected to mention that it was only served that way with dinner, so we were disappointed. Tim redistributed the alcohol content, putting some from mine and lots from Emma's into his glass. The place was pretty dead, though, so we left right after the tequila.
Denver's got this CowParade thing going on, where a bunch of artists each get a fiberglass cow to paint however they want and they then go on display in three places around the city. The places chosen were Larimer Square, the 16th Street Mall, and Stapleton -- so right outside of Lime, which is on Larimer, we took a break for a photo op with a giraffe-painted cow.
Next to Nallen's for a Guinness and a Tullamore each for the boys (with some help from me on Tim's Guinness). It was loud and we headed out after they were done.
Onward towards El Chapultepec, for some jazz for Paul. However, on the way we heard some awesome-sounding vocally jazz music coming from Sambuca. Emma asked, "What's sambuca?" When we told her it was a licorice-flavored liqueur, she got all Emma-drunky-excited and we all quickly decided to go in. It is a classy place and I really liked it. Drinks are, of course, expensive at a location such as this, but Tim and Paul paid for four glasses of sambuca. They come in a snifter with three coffee beans floating on top. (Here's a coupla links I just found relating to the traditions of fire & coffee beans.) Tim said that to drink it, you're supposed to light the top on fire, wait a bit and blow it out and sip while it's hot. We did so a few times with his lighter, though the fire liked to go out before we could blow it. The most interesting sensation was when I got both hot and cold sambuca in the same mouthful. Sambuca is sugary and tasty.
And THEN Paul told us what to do with the coffee beans. You can't just eat them off the top of your drink, you see; you have to give your coffee beans to someone else.
That's when the night got Sooper Dooper Interesting (TM)!
Tim and I exchanged significant looks. And then we exchanged coffee beans. More needn't be said!
(Except perhaps that it was tasty.)
Emma wouldn't trade beans with me, though. We all really liked Sambuca (the place as well as the liquor), and I'd like to go back there some day. However, I've been looking online for a little while, and can't find anything about the giving-away-the-coffee-beans tradition. I wonder just exactly where that comes from. Not that I'm complaining in the least.
We then went in search of the Pec. Couldn't find it, though, and it was pretty late, so after Paul nearly got himself killed taking pictures in the middle of the road, we went home. Hung at Clay's until 4:30, and then Tim and I stayed in my kitchen chatting for another hour while he ate a PB&J and doubted the authenticity of our zebra skin in the den. I told him it was procured by a cousin in South Africa back before it was illegal, and he said he had a friend who got one on ebay. I think by the time he left he may have believed me.
Tim left my house around 5:30am, to go home and change and climb fourteeners. When he left it was getting light out and the paper was already in the driveway. He refused to borrow a helmet from us, reasoning that all the bike accidents he sees (have I mentioned he's a fireman? thus, he has EMT training and goes on calls and everything! we can chat about first aid & CPR now that I've taken the refreshers last week) have helmets... so... maybe the ones not wearing helmets are safer. So a prolonged goodbye and off he went, waving from his bike. I left him a message yesterday telling him to call me when he was home safe, and he hasn't yet, but I'm not too worried because he doesn't always call back. I'm thinking of calling him today, though, just because I have a legitimate reason to be concerned so I don't think it'd sound too needy... and anyway, it'd just be a flirty/nice "So, how are you holding up?" See how the climbing went and everything.
Still at work, and no more time to update Ren Fest goings-on, because I've been really busy with real work all day today and it's 5pm now and I'm staying late to do more work. when I get home (in an hour or so) I'll edit.
on arriving home, I sampled dinner leftovers: Mom made kefta kebabs stuffed with almonds and somethingsomething and they were unbelievably fantastic. she says she'll give me the recipe, though it's complex. then I watched Prime on my computer. Meryl Streep makes a wonderful Jewish mother... I really enjoyed the movie. Didn't hurt that Bryan Greenberg is a hottie, too. Overall, though, just a good movie. I liked the natural sound of the dialogue. I loved Meryl Streep -- she just gave off this aura of regular woman, with the mannerisms, the fidgeting, and everything. I liked that there were shots of awkward silent moments, and of course I loved the Shabbat dinner scene. They did, they talked like Jews. And the chemistry between Uma and Bryan was sizzlin'.
today: i'm tired, my ankles hurt, I'm a little sore from rafting, cranky and groggy from undersleep, and it is NOT going to be a good relations-with-the-public day. ringing through my head is the amazing, brassy, savvy
The greatest practical joke
Played on the common folk
Is God!
You want some money, God?
The worst political prank
Pulled by the file and rank
Is Christ! Mohammed
Buddha, Vishnu
Joseph Smith and all his angels
To keep the poor in check
The business offers daily masses
And threatens Hell and heck!
Look at the world
You think there's a God?
There isn't a God!
Not when you got all those criminal types
Like Henry Kissinger sneaking around
And peddling nukes!
Look at the world! If there's a God
You'd think he'd do something
To stop all the war
And the crime and the crap
And he'd punish those son of a bitches
Who write all those stupid new TV shows!
Look at the world!
There can't be a God
Not when you got those crazy nuns
Like Mother Theresa
Who don't give those Indians rubbers
And so they have babies and babies
And everyone's crowded
And hungry and starving...
Of course, if Indian food was all I had to eat...
I wouldn't eat!
There's lots of blood you can spill
You got the right to kill for God
Eat up, there's more lasagna!
You'll earn your saintly reward
Aiming your missiles toward
The heathen who do not believe in
All the crap that you believe in!
You were always a gullible dope
You keep playing dumb and baby, you'll be the Pope!
So mangia! Feast before you fall
For the greatest practical joke
Of all!
first, I left work early, gave myself shades of a pedicure while watching Out of Gas (Firefly), and agonized over what to wear. then I walked to Cafe Jordano, where Clay, Olivier, Jo, Tim, Emma and I met up for dinner. it was nice... Jo chose the wine, and the desserts were pretty nice. My food was bland, though everyone else's tasted better. Backstory there is that my parents have tried eating there several times, before and after it got famous, and everything they order doesn't have enough salt or garlic. The place does get credit for having selections of buffalo on the menu. Emma was insanely hyper, so we laughed at her.
Then we headed out for dancing. Contra at the Temple Events Center, where Tim had before done step dance. Everyone had an absolute ball and we've already agreed to go again in two weeks. We spun, we laughed, we waltzed, we shouted HEY. I got a blister from my shoes, started dancing barefoot, and got blisters on the balls of my feet. They gave us coupons to get in free next time: everyone but me was a first-timer, and I brought in five new faces. Score.
After contra, we went back to my place and spent a good long while in the hot tub before everyone headed home. Good times, ice cream, and Olivier as a submarine and NOT a frog. Tim doesn't believe that it's as insulting as I thought it was. I'm trying to remember where I got this impression. Straight to bed for me after the tub, because the next morning we went whitewater rafting.
Woke up after four hours of sleep, slept all the way to Buena Vista (for you non-natives, that's pronounced BYU-na vista, and locals just call it "the bunie"), and went rafting. Most of the river was pretty calm, which was a letdown, and the rapids we did hit were okay, but not as intense as some of the stuff I remember from two summers ago in Montana. We stopped partway down the river for lunch because it was a full-day trip. I got in the river twice, but both of them willingly: one off of Jump Rock, a 15-foot drop into cold water, and the other at Last Chance, when Mom and I "swam" (feet-first on-the-back floating) through Class 2 rapids, which barely make the boat bump. Dad and Zach each took a swim, though: Dad at the hole at the end of the Juicer, when everyone suddenly fell to the left, Dad fell out and Zach, in his adrenaline rush, thought he could pull Dad back by the foot. He got back in safely once Zach let go. Then, during Last Chance, the raft hit an unexpected bump and out Zach went, leaving two in the boat and three in the water. The boys got to sign the "Arkansas River Swim Team" kayak back at headquarters. We bought a photo, which I should be scanning soon.
We drove through South Park on the way there and back, so now I can say I've been through there. And then we got back home and Mom and Dad went to a Relay for Life in the northern Denver area?, Zach's friends came over, and I got ready to go out drinking with Em, Tim, Clay, and Paul (the grown-up French escort for Clay's high school kids). Tim arrived on his bicycle so we could drive to Clay's together. Tim and I pulled in at the same time as Emma, and we were all late, so we only had half an hour to pregame. I beat both the other drinkers by a full drink, and we all later realized we hadn't drunk enough. Emma only wanted her two, and thought that more would be too much, but realized it wasn't enough on the way downtown, when it wore off.
We started the evening downtown with Clay and me singing Don Quixote, then meeting up with Paul on the 16th Street Mall, and then heading to the Falling Rock Brewery, which has a HUGE selection of beers. Tim had something Scottish, Paul had something sweet, Emma had apricot mead and I got a chocolate stout. Second drink: Tim the same, Em nothing, Paul something, and me a lovely framboise lambic (it's like, 70 percent raspberry juice and very little percent beer. Or something). From there, we went to Lime, where I'd heard from Mom that they serve tequila shots out of a lightly-squeezed half of a lime. She neglected to mention that it was only served that way with dinner, so we were disappointed. Tim redistributed the alcohol content, putting some from mine and lots from Emma's into his glass. The place was pretty dead, though, so we left right after the tequila.
Denver's got this CowParade thing going on, where a bunch of artists each get a fiberglass cow to paint however they want and they then go on display in three places around the city. The places chosen were Larimer Square, the 16th Street Mall, and Stapleton -- so right outside of Lime, which is on Larimer, we took a break for a photo op with a giraffe-painted cow.
Next to Nallen's for a Guinness and a Tullamore each for the boys (with some help from me on Tim's Guinness). It was loud and we headed out after they were done.
Onward towards El Chapultepec, for some jazz for Paul. However, on the way we heard some awesome-sounding vocally jazz music coming from Sambuca. Emma asked, "What's sambuca?" When we told her it was a licorice-flavored liqueur, she got all Emma-drunky-excited and we all quickly decided to go in. It is a classy place and I really liked it. Drinks are, of course, expensive at a location such as this, but Tim and Paul paid for four glasses of sambuca. They come in a snifter with three coffee beans floating on top. (Here's a coupla links I just found relating to the traditions of fire & coffee beans.) Tim said that to drink it, you're supposed to light the top on fire, wait a bit and blow it out and sip while it's hot. We did so a few times with his lighter, though the fire liked to go out before we could blow it. The most interesting sensation was when I got both hot and cold sambuca in the same mouthful. Sambuca is sugary and tasty.
And THEN Paul told us what to do with the coffee beans. You can't just eat them off the top of your drink, you see; you have to give your coffee beans to someone else.
That's when the night got Sooper Dooper Interesting (TM)!
Tim and I exchanged significant looks. And then we exchanged coffee beans. More needn't be said!
(Except perhaps that it was tasty.)
Emma wouldn't trade beans with me, though. We all really liked Sambuca (the place as well as the liquor), and I'd like to go back there some day. However, I've been looking online for a little while, and can't find anything about the giving-away-the-coffee-beans tradition. I wonder just exactly where that comes from. Not that I'm complaining in the least.
We then went in search of the Pec. Couldn't find it, though, and it was pretty late, so after Paul nearly got himself killed taking pictures in the middle of the road, we went home. Hung at Clay's until 4:30, and then Tim and I stayed in my kitchen chatting for another hour while he ate a PB&J and doubted the authenticity of our zebra skin in the den. I told him it was procured by a cousin in South Africa back before it was illegal, and he said he had a friend who got one on ebay. I think by the time he left he may have believed me.
Tim left my house around 5:30am, to go home and change and climb fourteeners. When he left it was getting light out and the paper was already in the driveway. He refused to borrow a helmet from us, reasoning that all the bike accidents he sees (have I mentioned he's a fireman? thus, he has EMT training and goes on calls and everything! we can chat about first aid & CPR now that I've taken the refreshers last week) have helmets... so... maybe the ones not wearing helmets are safer. So a prolonged goodbye and off he went, waving from his bike. I left him a message yesterday telling him to call me when he was home safe, and he hasn't yet, but I'm not too worried because he doesn't always call back. I'm thinking of calling him today, though, just because I have a legitimate reason to be concerned so I don't think it'd sound too needy... and anyway, it'd just be a flirty/nice "So, how are you holding up?" See how the climbing went and everything.
Still at work, and no more time to update Ren Fest goings-on, because I've been really busy with real work all day today and it's 5pm now and I'm staying late to do more work. when I get home (in an hour or so) I'll edit.
on arriving home, I sampled dinner leftovers: Mom made kefta kebabs stuffed with almonds and somethingsomething and they were unbelievably fantastic. she says she'll give me the recipe, though it's complex. then I watched Prime on my computer. Meryl Streep makes a wonderful Jewish mother... I really enjoyed the movie. Didn't hurt that Bryan Greenberg is a hottie, too. Overall, though, just a good movie. I liked the natural sound of the dialogue. I loved Meryl Streep -- she just gave off this aura of regular woman, with the mannerisms, the fidgeting, and everything. I liked that there were shots of awkward silent moments, and of course I loved the Shabbat dinner scene. They did, they talked like Jews. And the chemistry between Uma and Bryan was sizzlin'.
today: i'm tired, my ankles hurt, I'm a little sore from rafting, cranky and groggy from undersleep, and it is NOT going to be a good relations-with-the-public day. ringing through my head is the amazing, brassy, savvy
The greatest practical joke
Played on the common folk
Is God!
You want some money, God?
The worst political prank
Pulled by the file and rank
Is Christ! Mohammed
Buddha, Vishnu
Joseph Smith and all his angels
To keep the poor in check
The business offers daily masses
And threatens Hell and heck!
Look at the world
You think there's a God?
There isn't a God!
Not when you got all those criminal types
Like Henry Kissinger sneaking around
And peddling nukes!
Look at the world! If there's a God
You'd think he'd do something
To stop all the war
And the crime and the crap
And he'd punish those son of a bitches
Who write all those stupid new TV shows!
Look at the world!
There can't be a God
Not when you got those crazy nuns
Like Mother Theresa
Who don't give those Indians rubbers
And so they have babies and babies
And everyone's crowded
And hungry and starving...
Of course, if Indian food was all I had to eat...
I wouldn't eat!
There's lots of blood you can spill
You got the right to kill for God
Eat up, there's more lasagna!
You'll earn your saintly reward
Aiming your missiles toward
The heathen who do not believe in
All the crap that you believe in!
You were always a gullible dope
You keep playing dumb and baby, you'll be the Pope!
So mangia! Feast before you fall
For the greatest practical joke
Of all!