Archive | October, 2008

Drunk bar pictures prove we’re still fun

31 Oct

A few weeks ago I dragged W east for a wedding. Remember? I know it’s old news, and he already blogged about it. But it was such a magical trip, I need to share it with you.

BUFFALO.

Purpose of journey: To serve as a bridesmaid, with W as my date.

Length of stay: 72 hours.

Goals: Don’t disappoint the bride.

The highlights:

1. Mighty Taco.

I’m considering changing my tagline to GUACAMOLE HAS ARRIVED. I’m not sure if this was really a highlight for me because the sad fact is they don’t put a lot of love into their vegetarian options.

2.Wegmans.

3. Breakfast scrabble.

4. The wedding/reception. I think he’s making fun of Tommy in this picture.

5. Seeing Michelle for the first time since May 2006. It almost didn’t happen. Like me, she barely made her flight, but her backstory is more solid than mine. She’s an equine vet, she’d been at the clinic for days, and she was covered in blood and goat semen when she arrived at the ticket counter, begging to be put on the plane. They let her right through. Really. Probably because she’s so adorable and her southern accent comes out when she’s tired.

6. Whitney’s swim in the cold, swift Niagara River. I have a great video of him jumping in but I’m not supposed to show it to you.

ROCHESTER.

Purpose of journey: To rekindle our relationship in the city where it all began.

Length of stay: 13 hours.

Goals: Smell a baby’s head. Have a circuitous conversation with PHiL. Put Lisa in my pocket. Touch Seelander.

The hightlights:

1. W’s playlist on the drive. When we called Little Lisa Paladino to give her an update on our progress, W warned her that there would be no hugging. But that fell apart. There was a lot of hugging. We were like hobbits in a mead hall.

2. The first round of canal jumping.

3. Frozen beers at Seelander’s house. He owns it. He is the landlord. Such a tyrant.

4. Will’s house. I met baby Dawson and I was talked into buying a Genesee Rowing shirt in a ladies’ small.

5. Dinner somewhere. It was good, but I forget. I think we had coffee. This is when Lisa started to wear Whitney down.

A hug! Success.

Sadly this is the last we saw of her because she had to go to work, where sometimes she has to touch dead bodies. This inspired more hugging.

6. I think next was Boulder Coffee for Canadian coffees (bourbon, coffee, espresso, maple syrup, whipped cream, awesome). I also think this was the only thing I paid for all night. I’m sorry. After a few drinks, everything just seems free. Does that happen to you?

This is where the thoughtful political discussion began. People tell me they have no idea what that post is about. Just know that W’s now classic strategy when sparring with self-identifying libertarians is to confront them about community services like trash collection. It’s not sexy, but that’s kind of the point.

7. The Old Toad. I lost at least one thumb war and ACCIDENTALLY threw Whitney’s camera on the floor twice. It’s cute how sad he gets when his camera dies. Like it’s not inevitable. Fortunately it didn’t stay broken. In fact, maybe I’m the one who fixed it. I don’t remember. Can you tell he still loves me?

PHiL’s eyelashes kill me.

8. Intense car dancing. I know I had a leg out the window. Then we chatted with a police officer for a few minutes. For a short while there we were all libertarians. This was followed by even more highly spirited car dancing. (If W’s playcount of Alicia Keys – No One hasn’t shot way up since that night, he’s lying.)

9. The Elmwood. At least two more pots of coffee were consumed.

PHiL and I abstained from a shot of something so I talked us into a spoonful of ketchup instead.

And I’m not eager to include this picture, but check me out not paying for something.

10. Driving down the treacherous driveway of the old Crittenden Blvd homestead. We even got out to look at the spot on the house W used to smash into with his minivan. We never did pay for those missing shingles, even though his van had a house-colored stripe. Here’s a picture of the inside of it from five years ago (stolen from W).

11. More canal jumping. So cold. Not pictured.

12. Seelander’s house “for the night.” He made us hot chocolate to stave off hypothermia and I spilled it. Snuggling. Twenty minutes later, I put on canal-wet pants and W and I left to catch our early morning flights from Buffalo. I made mine with seven minutes to spare.

Sweater Thursday XXVIII

30 Oct

That’s right. I did it again. Double. Sweaters. Maybe it’s hard to make out because of the overexposure, but just think of that as the gorgeousness of the day creeping in. I found the blue tank sweater on a sales rack, the pink cropped cardigan found me at a thrift store.

My fears about the sustainability of Sweater Thursday were ungrounded. It is so strong.

(Though I’m pretty sure archivnoten of priscillaneous is holding out on us. She’s a librarian. I know she can rock at least one cardigan. Yes, I’m getting greedy now.)

Sweater Thursday XXVII

23 Oct

I know what you’re thinking. Can she really deliver another season of Sweater Thursday? You know? I’m not sure. I’m a little nervous. But I’m going to follow my heart on this one. And I’m going to start bold.

It’s true that you’ve seen this gem sweater before, but don’t be mad, because you’ve never seen it with a sweater dress before. That’s right. I double sweatered today. Check me out reading about retirement. Good thing I cashed out my 401k last year! No pesky assets to worry about here!

Darcy, I’m sorry for wearing my belt higher than you would like to see me wearing a belt. But it just feels so right.

This makes me bounce

19 Oct



So does this:

Cryptic postcard

19 Oct

I guess it rains inside my mail box. Help me fill in the blanks.

Whitney takes on a libertarian

16 Oct

again.

I cashed out my Karma

10 Oct

I landed in BUF last night. I’m here for a wedding this weekend, in which I play a bridesmaid and The Cheese Rind plays my date. I’m sure it will be well-documented on both blogs, so you have that to look forward to.

Does it surprise anyone that I made my flight with seventy-two seconds to spare? You’d think I would have learned my lesson, but I got the flight time wrong again. After a harrowing drive, I ran to the ticket counter and a very kind lady got special permission to put me back on the very last seat of the flight, the last one of the day, even though the computer said I was too late, because I asked nicely. And a guy hand delivered my checked bag to the plane. You cannot beat the Moline airport. Seventy-two seconds after I began this transaction, another woman came running to the counter begging to be let on the now-full flight and she was turned away. As I hustled to the gate, I could hear her cries of But I have a reservation! There are still ten minutes left to board! How dare you give my seat away!

I felt so alive. In fact I think the residual adrenaline (plus a diet coke and a coffee) is why I am apparently up for the day and blogging before 6 EST. Having stayed up til 2 to do homework. But I am never doing that again.