(no subject)
This weekend was awesome and awful at the same time. On Friday, we were "warned" via a note in the kitchen that my grandparents might show up on Saturday for Grandma's birthday. So Geena and I cleaned the house - swept the floors, mopped, cleaned the bathroom, straightened up the common areas, everything. We literally gave up our trip to Half Moon Bay together to clean the house. And guess what? My grandparents never showed up that weekend. I am highly annoyed. (More on this later, as it involves much cause for GRR.)
Also on Friday, I went out with my brand-new friend Gillian to party in Santana Row (think upscale strip mall -- to those of you more history-minded, it's across the street from the Winchester Mystery House). We went to vBar in Hotel Valencia first. I was approached by a very tall guy (I'm 5'2" and was wearing three-inch heels, and he was still a full head taller than me) who *gasp* did research in neurobiology down at UCSD. So we got to talk about neuro related things for awhile. I headed back to the bar to get another drink (Gillian had bought my first one). He followed us, and asked "If I contribute to the pot, will you get me a Long Island while I go to the restroom?" Then he handed me a twenty and left. Odd. I'd just gotten the drink when he got back, and he basically just picked his up and left. WTF dude. Whatever. Gillian and I did a circuit of the bar and lounge area. It was nice, but there was nothing exciting going on, so we decided to check out another bar.
Bar #2 was a pub called Rosie McCann's. We went there the first time I met Gillian -- Tanya's 22nd birthday. We'd had a great time the last time we went there, so we wanted to give it another go. We got there, but there was a big ol' line that wasn't moving, and there was a $10 cover charge. Meh, lame.
Then Gillian decided she wanted a cigar. We stopped by a cigar bar so she could pick one out. As she was smoking it outside (I was standing upwind since I don't smoke), a woman came up claiming she was a psychic and that she could help Gillian with her love life -- for a nominal $20 fee. Of course, Gillian had just been talking about her difficulties with her current boyfriend in a not-so-quiet voice. After Gillian shot her down twice, even after a $10 discount, she tried to get me to agree to a reading. No dice.
We sat and chilled while Gillian smoked her cigar. I ended up telling her the story of how Dan and I met, and about seeing Gabe for the first time in years. It's easy to talk to her, although she tends to get side tracked and interrupt my stories with her own anecdotes.
We tried our third bar of the night, The Blowfish (doubles as a sushi bar!) when Gillian decided she'd had enough of her cigar. We stood in line to get in, but when the bouncer was checking our IDs he mentioned that we needed to make more eye contact with bouncers -- they'd call cute girls to the front and let them in if we did. Nice tip! We ordered more drinks once we got inside, then hit the dance floor. Before too long, two guys approached us and started to dance with us. They bought us drinks, and we continued dancing. The friend I ended up with knew something about dancing -- he wasn't great, but I had fun anyway. Once the drinks really hit me, I totally stopped caring about what other people might think and danced like there was no tomorrow. Before I knew it, it was 1:30am and the club was closing. Gillian and I tried to wait outside the club where I told Dan (who had volunteered to drive us that night, what a sweetie!) to pick us up, but some jerkwad cop came by and yelled at us for loitering. I tried to tell him we were waiting for a ride, but he wasn't hearing any of it. Dick. Would he rather we drove ourselves after drinking all night?? We walked down to the corner and "loitered" there instead -- because loitering on a corner apparently different from loitering right outside the bar? Whatever, stupid cop.
As Dan was driving us home, Gillian kept saying how much fun she had with me that night and that we should really do it again sometime soon! I'm so excited for my new friend =)
On Saturday morning, I awoke to find that my throat was feeling rather raw. I attributed it to two lemon drops and two shots of tequila from the night before, which each came with a lemon or lime wedge. I figured all that lemon and lime must have irritated my throat. Nothing of note happened earlier in the day, except the fact that my grandparents did not come over or even call about seeing us -- after they'd explicitly been invited over for Grandma's birthday. (More later, 'tis full of GRR.)
Dan and I left for Stanford University around 6:30pm. We parked pretty far away from the stadium and walked for what seemed like a half hour. We got into the stadium for the Stanford vs. Wake Forest (South Carolina... yeah, I'd never heard of them either) with nearly a half hour to spare before kickoff. The game itself was fun enough. I had a lot more fun than just watching it on the TV at home, at least. I found myself screaming at our team a time or two -- a big mistake, considering my throat was still irritated to the point where speaking above a whisper was an effort. Stanford ended up clobbering Wake Forest, by the way, to the point where they were sending in their second and third string quarterbacks to give them some in-game practice. We won 68-24. Go, Cardinal! (Note: Can anyone tell me why Stanford's mascot is the color cardinal, but their new team jerseys are black? Red team wearing black makes no sense!)
I actually had a good time at a football game. I wouldn't mind going again sometime. That's a big concession for someone who's always maintained that football is a stupidly boring sport.
My voice was completely gone on Sunday. I could only speak in a whisper, anything more than that was really raspy and hard to get out. We'd had plans to go to a flea market that day with Kelly and Geena, but I'd woken up feeling bruised and I wasn't feeling to great (Kelly decided I might have tonsilitis), so we watched some older Psych episodes to get Dan caught up with the show. Mom bitched at me a few times throughout the day because I hadn't taken care of a few things -- could that possibly be because I wasn't feeling well? Hmmm? I just ignored her and went back to taking care of me, since I was developing flu-like body aches to the extent that my clothes were hurting me. Lame. Several hours, two mugs of tea, and two Naproxens later, I was finally feeling better. I got my voice back and my body aches had subsided.
Mom decided to have a fire in our backyard firepit after dinner, so she and Dad ran out to buy the fixings for s'mores since Matthew had eaten all the chocolate and marshmallows that we'd had. Aside from the smoke blowing every-which-way, it was nice. Everyone except Kelly (who was dead tired) came outside to enjoy the fire, roast some marshmallows, and make some s'mores. Dan ran inside at one point and came armed with a pair of swimming goggles, which he wore for the rest of the time we were outside. He looked really goofy, but at least his eyes weren't being murdered by all the smoke! It was a nice way to wind down the weekend.
That was rather long-winded. Kudos to you if you read it all!
Extra kudos if you recognize where "I prefer "death retardant specialist"" comes from.
Also on Friday, I went out with my brand-new friend Gillian to party in Santana Row (think upscale strip mall -- to those of you more history-minded, it's across the street from the Winchester Mystery House). We went to vBar in Hotel Valencia first. I was approached by a very tall guy (I'm 5'2" and was wearing three-inch heels, and he was still a full head taller than me) who *gasp* did research in neurobiology down at UCSD. So we got to talk about neuro related things for awhile. I headed back to the bar to get another drink (Gillian had bought my first one). He followed us, and asked "If I contribute to the pot, will you get me a Long Island while I go to the restroom?" Then he handed me a twenty and left. Odd. I'd just gotten the drink when he got back, and he basically just picked his up and left. WTF dude. Whatever. Gillian and I did a circuit of the bar and lounge area. It was nice, but there was nothing exciting going on, so we decided to check out another bar.
Bar #2 was a pub called Rosie McCann's. We went there the first time I met Gillian -- Tanya's 22nd birthday. We'd had a great time the last time we went there, so we wanted to give it another go. We got there, but there was a big ol' line that wasn't moving, and there was a $10 cover charge. Meh, lame.
Then Gillian decided she wanted a cigar. We stopped by a cigar bar so she could pick one out. As she was smoking it outside (I was standing upwind since I don't smoke), a woman came up claiming she was a psychic and that she could help Gillian with her love life -- for a nominal $20 fee. Of course, Gillian had just been talking about her difficulties with her current boyfriend in a not-so-quiet voice. After Gillian shot her down twice, even after a $10 discount, she tried to get me to agree to a reading. No dice.
We sat and chilled while Gillian smoked her cigar. I ended up telling her the story of how Dan and I met, and about seeing Gabe for the first time in years. It's easy to talk to her, although she tends to get side tracked and interrupt my stories with her own anecdotes.
We tried our third bar of the night, The Blowfish (doubles as a sushi bar!) when Gillian decided she'd had enough of her cigar. We stood in line to get in, but when the bouncer was checking our IDs he mentioned that we needed to make more eye contact with bouncers -- they'd call cute girls to the front and let them in if we did. Nice tip! We ordered more drinks once we got inside, then hit the dance floor. Before too long, two guys approached us and started to dance with us. They bought us drinks, and we continued dancing. The friend I ended up with knew something about dancing -- he wasn't great, but I had fun anyway. Once the drinks really hit me, I totally stopped caring about what other people might think and danced like there was no tomorrow. Before I knew it, it was 1:30am and the club was closing. Gillian and I tried to wait outside the club where I told Dan (who had volunteered to drive us that night, what a sweetie!) to pick us up, but some jerkwad cop came by and yelled at us for loitering. I tried to tell him we were waiting for a ride, but he wasn't hearing any of it. Dick. Would he rather we drove ourselves after drinking all night?? We walked down to the corner and "loitered" there instead -- because loitering on a corner apparently different from loitering right outside the bar? Whatever, stupid cop.
As Dan was driving us home, Gillian kept saying how much fun she had with me that night and that we should really do it again sometime soon! I'm so excited for my new friend =)
On Saturday morning, I awoke to find that my throat was feeling rather raw. I attributed it to two lemon drops and two shots of tequila from the night before, which each came with a lemon or lime wedge. I figured all that lemon and lime must have irritated my throat. Nothing of note happened earlier in the day, except the fact that my grandparents did not come over or even call about seeing us -- after they'd explicitly been invited over for Grandma's birthday. (More later, 'tis full of GRR.)
Dan and I left for Stanford University around 6:30pm. We parked pretty far away from the stadium and walked for what seemed like a half hour. We got into the stadium for the Stanford vs. Wake Forest (South Carolina... yeah, I'd never heard of them either) with nearly a half hour to spare before kickoff. The game itself was fun enough. I had a lot more fun than just watching it on the TV at home, at least. I found myself screaming at our team a time or two -- a big mistake, considering my throat was still irritated to the point where speaking above a whisper was an effort. Stanford ended up clobbering Wake Forest, by the way, to the point where they were sending in their second and third string quarterbacks to give them some in-game practice. We won 68-24. Go, Cardinal! (Note: Can anyone tell me why Stanford's mascot is the color cardinal, but their new team jerseys are black? Red team wearing black makes no sense!)
I actually had a good time at a football game. I wouldn't mind going again sometime. That's a big concession for someone who's always maintained that football is a stupidly boring sport.
My voice was completely gone on Sunday. I could only speak in a whisper, anything more than that was really raspy and hard to get out. We'd had plans to go to a flea market that day with Kelly and Geena, but I'd woken up feeling bruised and I wasn't feeling to great (Kelly decided I might have tonsilitis), so we watched some older Psych episodes to get Dan caught up with the show. Mom bitched at me a few times throughout the day because I hadn't taken care of a few things -- could that possibly be because I wasn't feeling well? Hmmm? I just ignored her and went back to taking care of me, since I was developing flu-like body aches to the extent that my clothes were hurting me. Lame. Several hours, two mugs of tea, and two Naproxens later, I was finally feeling better. I got my voice back and my body aches had subsided.
Mom decided to have a fire in our backyard firepit after dinner, so she and Dad ran out to buy the fixings for s'mores since Matthew had eaten all the chocolate and marshmallows that we'd had. Aside from the smoke blowing every-which-way, it was nice. Everyone except Kelly (who was dead tired) came outside to enjoy the fire, roast some marshmallows, and make some s'mores. Dan ran inside at one point and came armed with a pair of swimming goggles, which he wore for the rest of the time we were outside. He looked really goofy, but at least his eyes weren't being murdered by all the smoke! It was a nice way to wind down the weekend.
That was rather long-winded. Kudos to you if you read it all!
Extra kudos if you recognize where "I prefer "death retardant specialist"" comes from.