I went to bed at 9:30 last night and for some strange reason, I’m now wide awake. The cause is well understood but completely devoid of reason. It’s the dreams. Good god the dreams. I abandoned the obvious solution to this pesky problem quite a while ago in the hopes that enough time had passed and that I’d once again be able to sleep in peace. In reality, an exhausting evening workout usually ensures 8-9 hours of solid sleep, but my body’s weary from this week’s workouts and I took the day off. So here I am, sitting awake at 3:10am, trying to reason through the inexplicable.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Dirges for imaginary friends
Sunday, May 13, 2007
88 Keys
I've had an eventful weekend. Friday night I caught the new Spiderman flick at the IMAX downtown. I must say, I was impressed. I was expecting crap, but they actually dished out the entertainment. There were obviously a some flaws with the movie (i.e. MJ being a drama queen when in the CB she's nothing of the sort, and sandman disappearing for a long stretch in the movie), but they also had Toby McGuire strutting around the streets of nyc and sliding in a way that only Sarfraz would. I also liked that Topher Grace plays Eric Foreman in this movie. I like that character a lot and aspire to someday be a sarcastic jackass of that magnitude. Good time.
Yesterday evening I went and saw the Mariners get beat by the Yankees. I've been watching baseball games most of my life as something of a father/son thing (though my father would never leave my sister behind). I guess you could call it a family bonding thing. Anyway, this wasn't that. This was $8 beers, hanging out with friends, and the standard douchebaggery that results from the combination of those two things. I guess I don't have much to say about it, except that the stadium is freakin beautiful. We ran into something other friends at the ballgame... well I guess we knew they'd be there cause tons of people we knew were already going to the game. Naturally, we made plans to go out afterward. Unfortunately for me, I went directly to the bar with them while my friends went and "moved the car." They actually got in the car and moved it back to our apartment. I was notified by text message. Thanks guys, that didn't make me look like a desperate wierdo... 'ppreciate. ANYWAY, that gets me to the best part of the weekend. This place is called 88 keys cause it's a duelling piano bar. They have a drummer, but otherwise, these two guys just take requests and play songs all night. They know a lot of freaking songs. I had a bonding experience with a stranger at the bar when the bar tender skipped over this poor guy and his girlfriend like 8 times. I was the 8th time. I ordered a apple-tini (not for me), bourbon on the rocks (for me), and whatever that guy was having. Sure it was pricey, but it felt like the right thing to do. Naturally, he covered one of my orders later in the night and he, his lady friend, and I spent 30 minutes talking about bourbons... good times. At another point in the night, I was laughing and singing along when out of no where a "big-boned" woman in a party dress came over and stroked my hand for way too long while she described how a person realizes they need to have as much fun as possible after they turn 40. I appreciated her candor, and spoke to her until she walked away.
Bah good times. I did some pretty serious damage at the bar last night. My head still hurts, but it's not the worst thing I've ever felt. I really enjoyed meeting new people and talking to strangers. It's the sort of thing I was incredibly comfortable doing back in the south, and the sort of thing you can't really do out here. For example, my neighbor won't reply to "how're you doing?" In fact, he really only talks to us when he's asking if we have an real estate needs. Maybe the people who founded Seattle were misanthropists who kept moving away until they hit the Pacific... who knows.
Until next time,
Yesterday evening I went and saw the Mariners get beat by the Yankees. I've been watching baseball games most of my life as something of a father/son thing (though my father would never leave my sister behind). I guess you could call it a family bonding thing. Anyway, this wasn't that. This was $8 beers, hanging out with friends, and the standard douchebaggery that results from the combination of those two things. I guess I don't have much to say about it, except that the stadium is freakin beautiful. We ran into something other friends at the ballgame... well I guess we knew they'd be there cause tons of people we knew were already going to the game. Naturally, we made plans to go out afterward. Unfortunately for me, I went directly to the bar with them while my friends went and "moved the car." They actually got in the car and moved it back to our apartment. I was notified by text message. Thanks guys, that didn't make me look like a desperate wierdo... 'ppreciate. ANYWAY, that gets me to the best part of the weekend. This place is called 88 keys cause it's a duelling piano bar. They have a drummer, but otherwise, these two guys just take requests and play songs all night. They know a lot of freaking songs. I had a bonding experience with a stranger at the bar when the bar tender skipped over this poor guy and his girlfriend like 8 times. I was the 8th time. I ordered a apple-tini (not for me), bourbon on the rocks (for me), and whatever that guy was having. Sure it was pricey, but it felt like the right thing to do. Naturally, he covered one of my orders later in the night and he, his lady friend, and I spent 30 minutes talking about bourbons... good times. At another point in the night, I was laughing and singing along when out of no where a "big-boned" woman in a party dress came over and stroked my hand for way too long while she described how a person realizes they need to have as much fun as possible after they turn 40. I appreciated her candor, and spoke to her until she walked away.
Bah good times. I did some pretty serious damage at the bar last night. My head still hurts, but it's not the worst thing I've ever felt. I really enjoyed meeting new people and talking to strangers. It's the sort of thing I was incredibly comfortable doing back in the south, and the sort of thing you can't really do out here. For example, my neighbor won't reply to "how're you doing?" In fact, he really only talks to us when he's asking if we have an real estate needs. Maybe the people who founded Seattle were misanthropists who kept moving away until they hit the Pacific... who knows.
Until next time,
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