Guess who’s back, back again

I’ve been an absentee blogger again. This last month has been nuts for me. I am happy to report that by keeping my birthday low-key, things went better. After my food poisoning experience at Friday’s, I have not been back. There was no birthday get-together to be had at Botulism City.

I also survived the work Xmas Party with no food poisoning or wine rot. I was quite proud of myself for that. I did, however, take a wrong turn off the turnpike and ended up at a road that dead-ends into a horse pasture. I need to get on Google Maps some evening and figure out where the fuck I was when that happened. Prior to the party, the night had already taken many unique twists. My friend and I ate at Arby’s to lay what we were calling 'the bread and fat foundation' for alcohol to rest on. While at the Arby’s, the staff was lazy as hell and the checker starting making racist comments. He called some boy a Jew and said, "He’s so damn Jewish. I hate Jews." Ok, Hitler, what the hell? If a Jewish person had been in line while this was going on, he or she would own that Arby’s right now in a lawsuit. I was disgusted. Had we not already eaten, I would have left without spending a dime there. Also on the way out, I look over at the booth next to ours and see a checkbook. I felt like it was some moral scruples test: leave the checkbook alone and walk off or return the checkbook to the front counter even though the idiots at the counter were being loud and obnoxious. I returned it, just to be clear, and it looked like it might have belonged to a kid. I saw a check at the front for $6.52 that had been voided. I told my friend that was a reflection of the crappy Bush economy: people don’t even have $6.52 to spend freely anymore.

We decided to do the bulk of our drinking at the bar in the casino. Last year, I think I imbibed spoiled wine at the Xmas party. I don’t imagine it’s good as a general rule to leave wine out by a blazing fire but that’s what tends to happen at this party. It tastes gross and leaves you feeling sick as hell. (If you are a nerd like me and you want to know more about how wine goes bad, go here: http://www.buzzle.com/editorials/11-14-2005-81379.asp.) At the casino, I concocted a ghettotini as they told me there was no dry vermouth to be had that day. So I replaced the vermouth with Sprite and it wasn’t half bad. A dude who looks like that guy with the black jacket and the dark glasses from Law and Order came up and blew cigarette smoke (at a non-smoking bar, might I add) all over me and my friend. I was getting increasingly pissed. About that time, a man named Jack wandered up and kept us entertained with odd stories about Vietnam, being stationed in Denmark, a dead Russian in a bathroom, a mistress from Lithuania, and high-stakes gambling in other cities. He never let our glasses get empty and I was grateful for that. He also kept the flattery coming in huge doses and, well, that never hurts either.

After the casino, it was time to meander to the Xmas party. I won a DVD player as my door prize, which was nice. A drunk man danced and kissed on both men and women alike. A person who was there (not from the office, but a guest of someone) asked me in a drunken stupor if I did drugs and I was like, "No. What the hell kind of question is that?" Earlier on, I think I offended a man. My friend and I were talking about our evening with Jack at the casino. I suppose this guy didn’t think I was intelligent enough to pick up on his insults and he was like, "I guess if he was buying drinks for you, I could go in there and just as easily get him to buy drinks for me." Ok, then, pal, game on. So I said, "I don’t think you quite have the right equipment. It’s like in the movie Erin Brockovich where she says, ‘They’re called boobs, Ed.’" After that, he got very quiet and then snaked off slowly. You wonder sometimes what people think when they get in awkward mixed company situations. Common sense would tell you to err to the side of caution and be overly congenial. Maybe he missed the memo on that one.

Once we left the party, we were hungry again and still trying to stave off the empty stomach full of booze phenomenon. Outback was the only place open and I think we ate the greasiest meal of our lives. The potato soup I had was awesome. But the sandwich was swimming in grease. That is a good lesson to impart: if you come in 15 minutes prior to closing time, you get what you get. My friend got heartburn and I got a case of the rumbleguts. Next year I think we need to leave early enough to find food that hasn’t been under the heat lamps boiling in grease for 2 hours. Other than dodging insults from drunks, hearing racist commentary, and eating questionable grease meals, I think we did OK. We lived to tell the tale and that’s the main thing.

Progress is still being made on my house. It’s actually becoming more liveable now although I still have moments of panic here and there like, "What the fuck? Why is this not done yet? Will it ever end?!?!?" I have to keep reminding myself to calm down and breathe. What I have furnished and put together looks great though, if I do say so myself. Taking art classes pays off when you have to start color coordinating and picking out furniture.

Ok, I have to get ready for the many things to do this Saturday. Will try to report back with more frequency than once-a-month-blogging. I know better than that.