Digs & Spleen

Last week my college roommates, Digs & Spleen (TOTALLY their real names) and I were e-mailing about our annual "Ladieth Reunion."  I'm sure at some point it was pronounced "ladies" but somewhere along our cocktail filled evenings and a few too many cheesy guys in bars, it has morphed into "haaaay ladieTH, haaay!"

Spleen lives in San Diego, Digs lives in San Francisco and I live in Portland.  So where we used to come out of our respective rooms at our little house on 63rd Street and pile on the couch to recount the details of the previous evening, now two of us fly to the other and we pile on the couch and recount the details of the previous few months.

Sometimes I'll be at work when I get their e-mails, or phone calls (occasionally from both of them together--BEST CONFERENCE CALLS EVER) and I have to CONTROL the hysterical laughter and shorthand that make up our conversations.  We call it the "WV" (code for 'work voice' which can also morph into "BV" if Digs is riding on BART) and it SUCKS ... and usually makes everything that much funnier because you can't laugh or discuss old times.  

Like the time I spent the wee morning hours in a Las Vegas hotel pool with a random guy named ... Jim?  Yes.  It was definitely Jim.  Maybe.  After wrapping my hair in a pool towel at 8 a.m. when the sun started coming up and the hotel workers started making an appearance, Jim and I ran, laughing through the lobby leaving little wet foot prints in our wake before we serendipitously bumped into Spleen with HER respective date for the evening.  

After a brief, and surprisingly not awkward (it was Vegas!), introduction, the four of us decided to keep the party going and proceeded together ... on essentially what was a walk of shame double date ... to the breakfast buffet where we ended up seeing the rest of Spleen & my crowd and joining them all for pancakes.  And YES, I was STILL in my towel turban with the guy who's name may or may not have been Jim.  Can we say classy?!  Mmm hmm, I think we CAN!  Don't judge.  Spleen had a HUGE hickey on her neck!  Which I think I kindly pointed out by yelling across the table "Dude, what happened to you?!  Did you fall down and land on your NECK?"

You know, stories like THAT. 

So this past Friday we decided we'll be heading to San Francisco in April for a reunion at Casa de Digs.  And after working out all of the details through a few e-mails everyone signed off for the weekend.

• SSG was heading out for lemon drops.
  
• Digs was off to a cabin in Lake Tahoe.
  
• And Spleen was playing in the kickball finals with her co-ed kickball team, appropriately called the "Sex Kittens."  The GUYS wear pink cat ears.
  

And THAT is why I love those ladieth.  We've known each other for over 15 years and despite having lived in different cities for the last 10, we still miss being a part of each others daily lives.  We can tell the difference between our "grown up" voices and our REAL voices--those that send us screaming into fits of laughter from the stories of our past AND present.

In the words of Spleen ... "can't wait to see you sexy beeee-yooootches!"  Here's to all of the stories that still lie ahead ... like combining our social security checks to hire a cute pool boy for the nursing home.

Love you MORE!

STERS

Things I Forgot to Tell You

Good Morning All!

SSG is dog sitting this weekend.  For those of you who have read for a while, I'm watching my neighbors' dog.  Yes, this dog.  The one that wakes me up before the crack of dawn.  Which is why I'm WRITING at 5:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning and not ... oh I don't know ... SLEEPING at 5:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning!  Because OHMAHGAH the WHINING.  I don't know what it is this morning.  Timmy might be stuck in a well or the dog has found a cure for cancer.  It's anyone's guess.  

So!  Here is a smattering o' stuff for you this morning because um ... sentences?  They aren't forming?  Complete thoughts?  Into?  Wait what?

Saturday Dinner Party

Last night I had a friend over for dinner.  I had been up since 4 a.m. (see above for explanation why) and had been running around all day.  Usually I'd cook something, but instead I got a frozen thin crust pizza from California Pizza Kitchen, a caesar salad in a bag and had her bring the dessert.  I set the table really nicely, put on some music and poured us some wine.  As I took the pizza out of the oven, dumped the salad in a bowl and put it all on the table I apologized to her for not actually, you know, COOKING us something.  "No worries, this is the nicest meal I've had in a while!"  Which begs the question ...

Do I REALLY Then Need to Cook a 7 Course Meal?

There are six of us at work who like to think we're foodies (we're totally NOT, I just think we all like food.  And also to drink).  I had mentioned to one of them that on some New Years Eve (like years down the road when I'm a grown up), I'd like to put together a wine paired, seven course meal.  

The idea stemmed from some friends and I going to a chef's choice, wine paired multi course dinner at Mlle Fleurs in San Diego a few years ago and it is perhaps my all time favorite dining experience EVER (also the most expensive).  Because we had such a great night of food and conversation, one of the guys that was at that San Diego dinner invited me over to his boss's house for a similar dinner MADE BY THE BOSS'S WIFE.  That too was an AMAZING dinner.  So the idea has been floating around SSG's mind for the last couple of years, especially since the boss's wife was able to swing doing something like that on her own with recipes from Gourmet & Bon Appetite Magazines and not some super secret culinary school/restaurant recipes.

Long story short (Too late!  Name that movie.)  The friend I mentioned it to at work, brought it up amongst the work posse and the thing snowballed.  We quickly got it under control with deciding it would only be the six of us attending (no one could bring friends or chicks they were trying to impress), they have to bring the wine and SSG has control of the menu.  We're also probably not going to do this until late March or early April ... so SSG has MONTHS to freak out instead of a week.  

There will be an appetizer, soup course, fish course, meat course, salad, cheese plate and dessert.  I think I have a pretty good idea of what I'm going to make, it's just going to take some strategy to figure out how it's all going to go down.  I AM actually really looking forward to it.  And if the whole thing goes completely sideways, AT LEAST everyone will be too drunk to know any better.

Speaking of Food

My friend brought over a vegan chocolate mousse cake from Whole Foods for dessert last night.  My first thought was VEGAN?  SSG is not a VEGAN (see above for evidence) where's the real stuff?!  And then I got it.

SSG:  "Ah, now I get why vegans are into this racket.  Apparently there is a food called 'suck a nut'."

Friend of SSG: "There is NO WAY that is on that label."

SSG:  It says it RIGHT HERE!"

Friend:  Where?

SSG:  See S-U-C-A-N-U-T.  How would YOU pronounce it?  And don't say it with like Soo-can-oo or something.  There is CLEARLY no other pronunciation.

Friend:  (Looks at it for a second) Well ... chocolate is a replacement, right?  Why shouldn't vegans have theirs too?

(Edited to Add: Sucanut is actually an unrefined cane sugar.  Thanks vegans!  And the cake was actually REALLY good.)

Neighbor Formerly Known As Cute Neighbor (NFKACN)

I haven't seen or heard a peep out of NFKACN's house since the whole Cops episode he brought to the neighborhood a few weeks ago.   The girl roommate moved out (smart girl) and I was hoping he did too, but it doesn't look like it.   I was outside with the dogs yesterday and turned around to walk them up the street when I saw NFKACN move away from the window.

It kind of freaked me out for a second.  Like ... WAS HE JUST WATCHING ME FROM HIS WINDOW?!  THE NERVE!  FREAKER!

And then I thought of ME hunched on the floor of my room peeping through my blinds and watching HIM get hauled out of his house in his underwear by the cops ... and then um, promptly sharing it with the world on my blog and figured now we're probably even. 

Speaking of Starey Guys

SSG waited TWO or THREE MONTHS to tell you about Starey Guy.  And ever since she told you?  SHE HAS NOT SEEN HIM SINCE!  Seriously!  

WTF?!

So she is definitely NOT going to tell you about the SUPER HOT guy she saw in Starbucks Friday.  The one that made her stomach do a little flip over and stop listening to her work BFF for a few seconds because she got so distracted.

Work BFF:  Dude, are you even listening to me?

SSG:  Yeah, sorry.  Got distracted by Mr. SupAH Hot over there.

BFF:  Yeah, that guy is IN SHAPE!

SSG:  How do you even know who I'm talking about?!

BFF:  I saw him.

SSG:  He's standing behind you ... wait, can you move an inch to your right?  You just blocked my view.

BFF:  (Rolls his eyes and moves to the right.)  I saw him when we walked in.  He's a good looking guy.

SSG:  I LOVE that we can have these conversations.  Okay, wait move a little to your left you blocked my view again.

No, SSG is DEFINITELY not going to tell you about that guy.