It looks like I missed De-Lurking Week last week, so all you lurkers out there get a free pass until next year. Too bad, too, because I had free candy for all of you. Looks like someone's going on a chocolate binge...
This weekend was all about the snot. Bubbles of it popping from the nostril. Rivers of it flowing down the philtrum. A hardening crust of it on every shoulder, armrest, and blanket in the house. We're practically drowning in it.
The Cheekster has been a little under the weather for a couple days, although the worst manifestation of this (aside from the booger factory) is restless sleep and an occasional, unexpected psychological collapse which only lasts a minute or two. She was trying to throw herself off the back of the couch today, however, so I think she's feeling better,
We did manage to get a break this weekend, with yet another overnighter at ECG's. Oodgie and I were supposed to have dinner with friends who live out in New Jersey, but they came up with some lame excuse (something about "vomiting until I saw my stomach lining") and bailed. I've noted before that Oodgie and I are the worst decision-makers on the planet, and finding ourselves sans Cheeky on a Saturday night in New York with no warning was almost too much for us. There was a real danger that our lack of creativity and spontaneaity would leave us at home, polishing off the Absolut, and watching reruns of Night Court.
- the fact that it borders our own neighborhood
- the nicest block in the city is supposedly there
- it should be spelled Forte Greene, 'cause if you're going to have one silent 'e', why not have two? For reference, see here.
Unfortunately, we didn't read the fine print too closely, and when we got there we found a few key items missing:
Kindness and momentum might have compelled us to overlook #1 & #2, but #3 is a no-go when you've got a night off from Cheeky, so we sheepishly snuck away and went wandering the streets looking for a less-depressing alternative.
We passed a few places that looked interesting, but weren't feeling experimental enough to try anything basted in monkey gland sauce. We went with a safer bet down the block, although we got a little worried when our waiter showed up. He looked alarmingly like Uncle Fester, and had a habit of leaning waaaaay in to tell us the specials or ask questions. When our drinks arrived they were sub-par, and we started weighing our options for another quick exit. But we couldn't dash twice in one night so we stuck it out, and luckily the food was pretty good. That didn't stop us from asking for the check while the food was still hot on our plates, and we made it home in time to watch Judge Harry help Yakov Smirnoff get a visa to visit his mother in Russia.
This is what our lives have become. Only 14 more years to go...