, The Magnificent

So, a certain company that starts with national and ends with grid is going to get an angry call from one of their loyal (though meter-switched) customers today. Yep, after moving all of my tutoring appointments to Tuesday and generally planting my fat butt in the casa so that I would be here for the glorious rival of "Joe" the electric guy, I found myself staring at a 5:45 clock and my blood pressure rising. Ay Bastardos! I had even passed up celebratory coffee with the PGoat at 54:30 for the specific purpose of seeing this geek. Let's not forget that this entire thing is STOOPID - why do I have to be here for him to check and see that the meters are (COTTMCO!) attached to the upstairs and downstairs apartments and that we are paying for the upstairs one??? Argh Razzle Frazzle Skimmy-do-boop-bop SCHNANG! Insert all kinds of Tasmanian devil-type sounds right here; those punks have mightily irked me. (Add this to the fact that I had been intermittently listening to weird avant jazz or John Cage prepared piano compositions all day as well as watching a sublimely bizarre movie called Suture (I'm not quite done yet) and you've got some serious Barton Fink John Goodman burning down the house craziness that could go on. I mean... the nerve.

Ben suggested that I charge them for a day's pay (more on what "a day's pay" consists of in a moment). When did I talk to Ben? Well, at 5:45 I decided I had had enough, so i called Ali in an attempt to take her up on the coffee outing. No dice - we had missed "the coffee window" (her quote, though I honest-to-Hashem was thinking the exact same phrase, that 3:30 to 4:30 is the coffee window and we had missed it), plus Ben was going to be home any minute. So I was prepared to retreat to my lonely and electric guy-less home for the evening, but Ali asked if I wanted to dine with them.

I felt bad about this, because I didn't want to step on their celebratory dinner. I understand the couple dynamic, the monumental moments that find their ways in to scrapbooks and pairs of diaries. SO I gave Ali the out, told her I didn't want to intrude, but she insisted, literally said "I insist" which about as literal as one can be with insisting (other than, I suppose, writing it down). So I accepted, seeing as the house had been a cooped up bag of evil for me on the day. I took the pups out in the wintry blast (it was kinda cold last night, but did I mention it's 5 degrees outside right now? Bet my parents are REAL happy they picked this week to visit New England) and headed over to the Casa GrinGoat (for the uninformed / unimaginative, that's a combo of The Grin and PGoat, the two residents of said Casa).

Ali was chilling in the living room and complaining about how she could no longer fingerpick Pink Floyd's Is There Anybody Out There on her guitar, which she was apparently taking out for the first time in a couple of years. (I will now try to learn "Hey You" today in deference to Ali's awesomeness). We played with Heidi and generally rapped about the transcendentally cool day Ali was having, and all about how awesome her new internship is going to be. Sweet! She beamed all evening. She also mentioned for the first of several times her 24K salary which, while ridiculous, especially given the hours she will be working, is a solid 4K more than I get paid for teaching/advising at the 'Nut (though I do make a good deal more with tutoring and such). Still, I was perhaps not the best audience for this "Pity the Poor Immigrant" lament. Let's move on.

So Heidi ran doorwards, and Ben came in, and I sat awkwardly in their living room as the happy couple beamed in their collective accomplishment. It was very sweet, and I felt like an idiot for witnessing it. Oh, well. Somewhere in there, Ali got called by the hospital who told her to "be ready" - she was on call, and getting that sort of "we might need you, so be ready" phone call is enough to wreck an ordinary night, let alone one when you're supposed to be dining and celebrating. So we decided that it would be better to eat (GROVER VOICE!) near instead of (GROVER VOICE REPRISE!) far and boiled our choices down to Cancun's or Sebastian's; Ben opted for Sebastian's. So we rolled to the fish joint. Separate cars, in case of vet call. Holla.

And we had a grand ol' time at Sebastian's; even Sebastian himself seemed to be in a chipper mood. And at least part of the dinner was spent trying to figure out a nickname for me, since I so brutally and routinely label my friends on this site. I ordered my usual (golden brown-tinged) fish and chips, and Ben got to interviewing me on why I didn't like to eat what I didn't like to eat. I pointed them in the direction of a Cooking Light article that Beck read to me recently, that outside of the pickiness, there are some common features to picky eaters: chunks in tomato sauce, onions, general texture concerns. I unfortunately shared the fact that I can't smell very well which tends to make me only like bland flavors and salts/spices, plus I'm overly sensitive to the feel of foods. So Ali dubbed me "Smelltard," which if you know her is classic borderline offensive Ali. And a nickname was born, for better or worse.

So Ben gets a phone call and jumps up because he has to take it. Ali is wondering aloud what could possibly be so important when Ben says "Hi Vick." Leading to the following...

A: Oh, Vick? Must be a chick. Ha! I made a rhyme, and I didn't even mean to!
N: Anybody want a lean-to?
A: Ha! Way to go, Smelltard! You're terrific!

Which set us laughing for a good while until Ben got back. Good times.

We left the restaurant and swung by CVS (to get more bach photos, which will be online shortly) and a gas station. By this point it is bone-chillingly cold. We headed back to the GG Homestead for hot tea and were closing the evening out nicely with fruit and cake when the Beck called - she was done with her day. So I needed to pick her up.

It also turns out that through the genius of Texas-ness, the Texas vet board licensure exam, which isn't even a content exam but a jurisprudence exam, is only offered on June 11 (smack in the middle of honeymoon) or August somethingeth (which is clearly a couple of months after Beck would want to start working). Further cementing my theory that nothing is ever easy. The exam also costs $200, so even if Beck had been able to sign up for it earlier, at this point it would be throwing down $200 "just in case," not to mention the plane tickets to get down there for whatever arbitrary date the Aggie powers that be decide is appropriate. So, in other words, big fat dammit, and another thing to consider in this assembly line of life decisions.

So the day ended on a bit of a sour note. A veritable flatted fifth against a fifth, if you will. Think Psycho chimes. But again, fun to spend time with the happy Ali and all her 24K glory. She is set, everything worked out, and she and the Ben can be found in the vicinity of Ocean State for at least the next year. Congrats again, folks.

Now, I have a phone call to make...