Blitz of an academic week, and I apologize for the lack of posting. After the Sparkle debacle on Monday night, the rest of the week took a furious flight toward completion - I basically reviewed with the students for Friday's test and tutored a bajillion people between tuesday and friday and worked at all hours. I managed to catch Lost and pick up Beck from work on time, but that was pretty much the extent of my non tutoring (okay, non jazz-obsessed) output for this week.
I had attempted to gather the SG Boys for some basketball viewage on Monday night, but thanks to the appetite for de-crust-ion exhibited by a certain dark-furred sausage- shaped dog blunder, that went out the window. But there was a lingering unfinished note on what we should do for the weekend - I had merely suggested that we should get us and the SLF's together to "do something;" Christophe had responded with an equally ambiguous "yeah." Beck had returned from the Southwest, Gringoat had returned from the West, the Mound was bursting with (almond) joy - it just seemed like the thing to do. Reunited, and it would hopefully feel so good. Of course, left in the inept planning hands of the Chrome Yers, even two days after the failed Bball attempt, nothing definitive had been said.
This somehow morphed its way through the grapevine that is Ali's head into "the boys are planning something for this weekend" and then "the boys are trying to do something without us this weekend; we have to fend for ourselves" and also "and this is all nyet's plan, and he clearly hates women, that misogynist fool." hemanawha? Eventually we got our act together and decided to head to Savior Mound's place for takeout and games. And if my "games" you mean "scotch and nature videos," well, then we got what we came for.
I went to pick up the Beck from the ER. She had apparently gotten in the spirit and dressed up as a mint green Easter egg for work, so she was easy to spot, though not easy to corral - I rocked out in the parking lot for 30 minutes after popping my head into the ER to request that one of her fellow doctors let her know that her ride was there. She had, in her defense, taken a patient right at the tail end of the day, so all was forgiven. I listened to Headhunters and a weird hypermodern version of Salt Peanuts, Salt Peanuts. All was fine.
We made it over to Birdland at about 8 and had a raging debate over how to successfully order chinese food when one person doesn't really like vegetables, one person is vegetarian (and pregnant, for that matter), two people are faux-practicing passover kosher and one person really, really wants chinese food. The men folk quickly invoked the spirit (nay, spirits) of Scotch Searl and enjoyed some single malts while the women folk, rather predictably, fell into vet school conversations. Eventually the food showed up and shut them up. Egads. Just kidding, ladies. Kinda. 50 days til graduation. Tick. Tock.
Eventually the food showed up - hurrah - and a mighty feat we did eat while enjoying great conversation about the merits of An Inconvenient Truth (review pending). Not even atrociously written fortune cookie fortunes could squash our mood. (FTR, it turns out that my decisions will determine my destiny. And the most memorable movies are the ones that are unforgettable).
It took a Herculean / Heran effort, but we eventually peeled our Asian-fatted butts out of chairs and headed to the living room to play Trivial Pursuit, super evil genius edition, when the warming glow of television's warming glow grabbed our bug-zapper victim attentions. Christophe had turned on the Planet Earth series, and we were set. Both Christophe and Sarah rather plainly lied about whether the show did or did not show "kills" - but it didn't really matter, the show itself (in HD, no less!) is ridiculously enthralling - super slo mo shots of sharks, above the field african hunting dog attacks, the funniest baboons crossing a river scene you would ever care to see - you name it. All very impressive. More impressive / cuter was S/C's dog Belle, who sat in front of the TV and gazed into it like an RCA dog. Gazed! Into a real TV! We give our dogs credit for looking out windows or listening to barks in the speaker. They, it turns out, are weak.
So another good night in the books - we all putzed out around 11 due to old age and left for our respective homes (well, those of us who weren't already in our own home). Yep - metamucil, scotch, two sore backs - these were all topics of discussion. Plus a rather heinous comment that Ikea furniture was okay "for this point in our lives." Apparently I just graduated points in life and didn't even know it, from one where Ikea was but a dream to one where it sat lowbrow on the list of things that could prop my feet.
I'm Nyet Jones, and I did NOT approve that message.
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