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.

The Best Friday Ever

Yesterday morning, as I was sitting at work, a few thoughts occurred to me.

1)  It was Friday.

2)  It was payday.

3)  The only thing the day was missing was SSG sipping a lemon drop by 8 a.m.

I shared those three items of importance with my cube neighbors ... and then promptly Twittered the same sentence when they laughed because really?  SSG can only be so funny before 8 a.m.  She's got to take it where she can get it.

And that's when one of the guys I work with said "Haven't you heard?  We're having an 'off site' meeting this afternoon?"

SSG:  Why you gotta tease SSG like that?

CW#3:  I'm serious!

SSG:  No you're not.

CW#3:  I am!

SSG:  Uh uh.

CW#3:  Uh huh!

SSG:  No WAY!

CW#3:  WAY!

SSG:  Ohmahgah!

CW#3:  I know!

CW#4:  For the love of GOD, would you two STOP?!  SSG, we ARE.

(SSG sat in stunned silence.  OFFSITE MEETING OVER HAPPY HOUR?!)

SSG:  Uh uh.

CW#4:  Someone PLEASE kill me.

But it turns out, WE DID!  And even though I got in at 7 and took a 20 minute lunch before leaving at 3 for a cocktail I ended up buying myself, I'll TAKE IT!  Because that thought of leaving early!  Lemon drop!  Was enough to get me through Friday and onto next week's 5 day countdown before I go on VACATION FOR A WEEK!

Okay, so TOTALLY just kidding.  NEXT Friday will be the best Friday ever ...

SSG's Dealer

SSG has a drug dealer.  

Luckily he's not located too far away from her office.  So every day, in the late afternoon, SSG tip toes out of her cube.  After a quick swing by work BFF's desk, the two take off to get their respective drugs of choice.

It's all taken care of in a matter of seconds.  SSG's dealer gets her change ready the second she walks up to him.  They only deal in cash and she doesn't even know his name.

SSG and her work BFF crack up as they walk back to the office slowly, already high.  And as she sits back down at her desk, all is quiet and right with the world.

Until her coworkers hear the telltale sound that can only mean one thing ...

Co Workers:  DID YOU GET SPREES AGAIN?!  What's WITH you and those things?

SSG:  (Mouthful of Sprees)  They're soooooo gooooood maaaan.  You know you want to try one.

So tell SSG, what are you secretly (or not so secretly!) addicted to?

Weekend ABC's - M is for Movies & Music

SSG loves chick flicks.  

SSG likes heavy movies too.  But for some reason these days heavy movies make her want to crawl under the covers with a gallon of peanut butter and chocolate ice cream and not come out.   So this weekend SSG was in pursuit of tickets to the chick flick to end all chick flicks--The Sex and the City Movie.  But as that would only take up a few hours, she decided she should be more productive.  And by productive, SSG means spending time tracking down two songs she heard during another chick flick.

So a few years ago I watched a movie called Lucky 7.  Lucky 7 was on the ABC Family channel.  I'm sure I was PMSing, because 1)  I was watching the ABC Family Channel and 2)  A made for TV movie not only made me cry, but I kept it on my DVR for months and made Digs watch it when she came to Portland to visit.  And I cried during the movie.  Again.

A quick recap of Lucky 7:  Patrick Dempsey (pre Grey's Anatomy). Kimberly Williams Paisley.  Seattle.  A dead mother.   A road map to love.   7 boys!  Daughter follows map to the letter.  She meets boy #6 & #7 at the same time!  Patrick Dempsey's eyes!  But he's #6!  Choice!  Angst!  Ferry boat to Orca's Island!  Touching moment on the beach!  Sex!  Does she follow her heart?  But the map!  The dead mom!  More angst!  Patrick Dempsey's fabulous hair! Happily ever after!

Two incredible songs that I had never heard before were in that movie.  And avec le power d' Google and You Tube, I found them this weekend.  Here are the two links:  

• Time   
  
• So Are You to Me

(Side note:  SSG isn't too sure why there isn't a link to Lucky 7 for the So Are You to Me song since apparently it has been used in every single television series ever.  So she chose the Pride & Prejudice link as it is one of her favorite books and movies.  She's also unsure as to why anyone else would want to play Mr. Darcy after Colin Firth did it to perfection.)

Speaking of love.  Angst.  Sex.  And will they or won't they?  I also saw the Sex and the City movie last night (don't worry, no spoiling!)  

The Dates:  Ems, Radioactive, Preggers and Gay Boyfriend #2.

The Wardrobe:   Aim: Flirty/Sassy.  Result? Pirate/Hooker.

The Dilemma:  Pre or post movie dinner and drinks.

Florida Retiree Moment #1:  Dinner at 5 p.m.

Young Hot Moment #1:  Everyone showing up a 1/2 hour late saying "Damn, 5 is EARLY."

Florida Retiree Moment #2:  Dinner at the Heathman Hotel.

Young Hot Moment #2:  Each downing four cocktails in just over an hour (except for Preggers).

1 Minute:  Amount of time between my ass hitting the theater seat and the movie starting.

Second:  The row we had to sit in.

Three:  The number of previews it took my eyes to adjust (Proximity to screen or number of drinks?  Jury is still out.)

One:  The number of girls whose ass SSG wanted to kick during the movie.

Frantic Face Fanning/Gasping/Squealing:  Reasons for ass kicking desire.

Mentally Handicapped:  Reason for the aforementioned frantic fanning/gasping/squealing.

ONLY acceptable cause for frantic face fanning/gasping/squealing:  Diagnosed mental handicap.

SSG's Emotions (excluding the desire to kick as of yet unknown mentally handicapped girl's ass):  Sheer joy at the mere hint of the opening song at the credits.  Happiness!  Desire!  Hate!  Sadness!  Anger!  Lust!  Envy!  Angst!  Love!  

Twice: Number of times SSG cried.

Countless: Number of times SSG will see the movie again.

Thoughts on weekend:  Girl card renewed!  Estrogen at maximum levels!  

Let's go to the bathroom together!

Weekend ABC's - F is for Friends & French Girls

This is my girl crush, Clotilde.  She writes Chocolate & Zucchini, the food blog and her new book Clotilde's Edible Adventures in Paris was just released last month.  She epitomizes my phrase "I'd hate her if I didn't love her so much."  And she was at Powell's on Friday night.  (Please note the ease with which I overrode the question:  Is cell phone picture taking stalkerish and slightly creepy?)

If you haven't read C & Z, I'll give you the following recap:  Clotilde is 28.  She was born in Paris.  She moved to the Silicon Valley in 2000 because she is a genius computer engineer and that's where all the geniuses were in 2000.  She was inspired by California's fresh produce and spent a lot of her free time cooking and shopping for food.  She recognizes the irony of growing up in Paris but falling in love with food in California.  She moved back to Paris and started C & Z in 2003 when there were only about a dozen food blogs.  Now there are about 3 trillion.  She lives in Montmarte.  She cooks.  She shops at the Parisian markets.  She writes.  She wears cute clothes and gets to travel around the world doing book signings and readings.  I haaaaate.  But I also loooove.  

I was worried I'd make a complete ass out of myself.  Especially since the Bobs and I are staying in her neighborhood, Montmarte, when we go to Paris in September.  Would I come off as crazy groupie girl if I told her?  Should I pretend I was cool and act like I just happened upon her book signing and "oh, what a pleasant surprise!  No, I haven't read your archives one by one, tearing up during many of them."  I even asked Ems at work if my outfit was cute enough for Clotilde to think I could be her new best friend.  "Maybe if I tell her I'm staying in her neighborhood she'll say 'Oh good!  I'd really like to hang out with you more, here's my number I can tell we're going to be BFFs!  Let me show you where to get the best lemon curd tart."  And yes, Ems looked at me like you're looking at your screen right now.

Mrs. Bob, also a big fan of C & Z but way more chill about it, asked a nice question that Clotilde could answer.  And what did I do?  I told her that we were going to be renting an apartment in her neighborhood when we visited in September.  And then I waited.  I waited for her to tell me how much she can't wait to take us for lemon curd tarts when we visit.  But she just smiled and quickly signed my books with her Sharpie.  And then I waited some more.  And then she quickly signed Mrs. Bob's books with her Sharpie.  And then I waited some more.  And then Clotilde said "Bon voyage!"  And I'm sure she meant it as "have a great trip!" and not at all like "ok, stalkerazzi, get away from me you're creeping me out and yes, I will show you where you can get the best lemon curd tart, it's in my new book, which is precisely the reason I wrote it!  Now bye bye!"   

The Bobs and I had a great visit.  There was wine, there was brie, there were yummy cocktails at Henry's.  There was a chick flick while Mr. Bob went to go geocache with Baby Bob (Made of Honor.  Cute, but note to McDreamy, please do not ever try physical comedy again.  You may mess up your perfect hair and we just wouldn't be able to take it.)  There was a pass through Bridgeport's pretty stores and thus many feelings of home decorating inadequacy by Mrs. Bob and me which we promptly remedied by double scoops of Haagen Das ice cream in waffle cones.  There were revisits to favorite stores on Alberta St and burgers at Pause before I had to bid them adieu with a plea to Baby Bob to tell her parents that every weekend she wants to come down to Camp Portland.

And then SSG had to rally, because Friday night and Saturday were FULL.  And SSG is usually cross eyed by Friday night and goes to bed at 8:30 p.m. and then recovers from the week by staying in her p.j.'s all morning on Saturday and watching her cooking shows until Wade tells her to come over for drinks and yes she can wear her p.j's.  So she was tired and so was her little mutt.  But Dan and Co. were waiting to meet SSG at Papa Haydn at 10:30 p.m. (!).  At some point in the not so distant past, that used to be SSG's going out time.  When did it become waaaay past her bed time?

So I rallied, because I am young, hot, single woman and not tired, early bird special wanting retiree in Florida.  I met up with Dan, his new girlfriend Celia, Wes and Wes' wife--the cutest pregnant woman ever, Michelle.  And poor Celia, because she had to listen to the stories that poor Michelle has heard a million times before.  Stories about sardine cans and nuns out on country roads in the middle of the night and how I think Dan and Wes are feminists even though they don't think they are.  And that was before I even cracked open Papa Haydn's dessert menu.

But when I shut my mouth for a second and actually opened the dessert menu, there it was.  A Meyer Lemon Curd Tart.  

And I smiled to myself.  I may not live in Paris or have Clotilde as my BFF.  But my little corner of the world with these people as friends?   Sweet and filling, just like that lemon curd tart.

Hope you guys had a lovely weekend too, I missed you!

SSG

Weekend ABC's - P is for Pissed Off, Privates & Puppies

How to Piss Off SSG:

Blogger:  Um, where the hell have you been?  

SSG:   I know, I suck.  But there has been SUN in Portland Blogger and NO rain for like 3 days! 

Blogger:  So.  Are you going to post or what?

SSG:  Yeah, but you don't look the same.  Did you get a new outfit or something?

Blogger:   I'm making some changes.

SSG:  Awesome!  I can still do everything the same though, right?

Blogger:  Yep.

SSG:  Are you sure?  I know I have no idea what I'm doing, but you seriously don't look right.

Blogger:  Nope, go ahead, here's this HUGE space to type in and see that little flag that says "Now Blogger saves your drafts automatically!"?

SSG:  Yes.

Blogger:   I don't really have to spell that out any further, do I?

SSG:  Okay, if you're sure (SSG starts typing the warmest, best, wittiest post she has ever written).

(45 minutes later)

SSG:  Ok, I'm done!  Now publish post, okay?

Blogger:  Uh, what?

SSG:  I'm ready.  Now go.

Blogger:  No.

SSG:  What do you mean no?

Blogger:  (Blatantly ignores SSG)

SSG:  Um hi, Blogger?  Hello?  I was right, it isn't you, is it?  You're like the evil twin of Blogger?

Blogger:  No, it was me.

SSG:  So you'll publish my entry?

Blogger:  No.

SSG:  But you always save automatically so when you're done with this little mood swing I can go back in and publish?

Blogger:  Nah.  I was just kidding about that whole auto save thing.  

So when Wade called and asked if I wanted to come over and taste the wine he spent all day Saturday picking up from private vineyards, I'll give you one guess as to what my answer was.  And the wine was DELICIOUS ... all 2 1/2 bottles of it that we went through.  And good thing he had a dessert wine too because, well frankly, what's a wine tasting without the dessert course?

So you can imagine how GREAT I felt this morning.  But not to worry, not only are SSG's abs made of steel, her resilience is too.  And there isn't much that a 5 gallon drum of water, a bottle of Advil and going over to see R & G's new PUPPY can't fix.  And my little world is at peace, even though it is a Sunday.

Say hello to Owen, my new crush up there.  Does anyone have any bail money I can borrow?  I might need your phone number too just in case I get caught trying to steal him.  You guys are the best.  

Hope your weekends were lovely!

SSG

PS.  The best, warmest, wittiest post will be attempted again tomorrow.  

Wade & Jimmy

Wade and I used to work together. We met a few years ago and it was love at first sight. Well at least it was for me, I still have to beg him to hang out with me and when he says no, I make sure to invite myself over to his gorgeous house that he shares with Jimmy at least once a month. They are two of my favorite people on the planet and spoil me for everyone else by taking me to private Pink Martini concerts on downtown rooftops and making me drink lots of cocktails in front of their prominent friends. There was also that dance that Wade did to MC Hammer while we were on a business trip. Yeeeooow!

So what could be more fun than Wade and Jimmy on their own? Well Wade and Jimmy's super fun friends, of course. (BTW, Wade & Jimmy's Super Fun Friends was an alternate title to this post-but sorry Wad-ay, you get this title all to yourself!) I promised I would protect the guilty and not use real names in this post. We decided instead to use their porn names. As such, last night our cast was made up as follows:

Hosts: Wade & Jimmy (real names, but only because their porn names make them sound like they're running for office)

Guests:

Tabby Hughes: Way rich (and famous too!) now Arizona resident who once had Tom Cruise's junk "accidentally" rubbed on him at a Broadway show. (sorry Tabby, I couldn't resist).

Corky Kahanahou: Prominent Portland genius who may give Jimmy a run for his money as the nicest guy on the planet. He seriously is the cutest guy ever and I think he might have measured his shirt collar to make sure both sides were even after he put his sweater on. He hasn't had Tom Cruise's junk rubbed on him yet, but just give it time.

Pepper 43rd St which we quickly changed to "Pepper 43 Double D's" (it just sounded better): Renaissance woman who has lived in more cities than I've set foot and has had more jobs than I knew existed. This chick LIVES and is a complete bad ass and total sweetheart. (Pepper, this little geek envies your ability to throw caution to the wind and just go!)

Zippity Archer: C'est moi! The token straight person. Geeky financial analyst and want to be writer whose stomach would have totally hurt from laughing so hard if my abs weren't as strong as they are. Whew, thank god for that six pack! What's so funny guys?

Here were a few of my favorite moments from last night (I seriously had to start making a list, next time I'm planting a recording device):

--Being offered a drink within 3 seconds of setting my purse down (Told ya, utterly spoiled.)

--Corky recounting his afternoon with Tabby at William's Sonoma. Without giving up too many details, it involved a cute clerk and the lingering question of if Corky should go back in a few days to see if the clerk remembered him. (Side Note: Corky, if you're reading this, try and get over the numerous grammatical and spelling errors and get your cute butt back to Williams-Sonoma.)

--Jimmy recounting the time he and Tabby dressed up as hookers for Halloween and went to the local Payless (which I think was an old Woolworth type store in Eugene. There were a few drinks involved, details are sketchy) to buy women's clothes. They told the clerk they were there to buy some items for their "girlfriends" and needed some pantyhose to go with the women's dresses. When the clerk asked what size they looked at each other and said: "the biggest you've got, they're big girls."

--Tabby recounting the garage sale that Jimmy threw when they used to live together. All of the little old ladies in the neighborhood were in Tabby & Jimmy's front yard at 7 a.m. when "Vera" came out of the house wearing a woman's wig and high heels with his men's underwear. Jimmy looked at Tabby and said "great, we're going to have to move again."

And last but not least, I'd like to apologize for the drunk dial to Chauntey (aka: Taaaaaaay!), Tabby's assistant, who so kindly picked up our call (despite the late hour) and listened to us drunk freaks yelling "Haaaay Taaaaay, haaaaay!"

Wade and Jimmy, your friendship means so much to me and ... well I think MC Hammer says it best when he says: "you can't touch this!" Thanks again for another amazing and hilarious evening.

XOXO,
Zippity Archer