Dis and Dat

Sup? It's Wednesday. It's cold. It's windy and I've been acting like a 20 year old with a disposable income the last half week.

To balance out my crazy Tila Tequila ways, we took the Kid to an indoor spielplatz on Saturday. I can't write about it here just yet. Patience. I'm saying patience to myself because I am literally chomping at the bit right now. I hope for not much longer. Saturday night I went to my favourite restaurant; Satrapezo. The food is glorious, the service fantastic, and the prices are reasonable. We ordered a 21 euro bottle of wine and I had a little internal heart attack when they served it with such flourish. Did I miss a "0" on the wine price list. But, no, it was all good.

After dinner, because I felt like I hadn't Paris Hilton'd it up enough, we headed to a bar near my place. That was how I justified the bar hop; "Sis jus round carner from meeeeee!!!". We didn't know where the bar was so I said to the taxi driver; "Just drive" and it felt very film noir. Once there, I was offered a tequila shot and I realized that tequila shot taking is just like riding a bike. Lick, salt, lick, drink, suck. I'm glad that the 33 year old mother in me said "Easy there, Springbreaker." And then I headed home, shaking my head and chuckling. Shots. Shots? What? Oh Tova, YOU CRAZY!

The next day we had a couple of friends over for a faux Thanksgiving. I just really wanted an excuse to eat stuffing. Mmmmh. Stuffing. The Kid, having absolutely no problem with humans over 4 feet tall, draped himself across our visitors. Thanks for making us look like we beat you, Kid.

After giving myself the gout, it was time to get ready for the week ahead. This involved sniffing at bras to decide which one could pass the test to wear to work the next day. I'm not proud.

Monday and Tuesday day were normal. And then there was Tuesday night. A while ago, a friend and I had discussed checking out this "meet and greet" that takes place monthly. It is supposed to be a kind of meet up of people with jobs or something. A type of networking event. I had heard people talk about them before and the reviews were not glowing. Of course I saw that as a personal challenge and decided that if I am going to spread the gospel of my blog that shares way too much information about my life then this would be the place to visit. I also repeatedly gave myself a pep talk that I would stay cool. I wouldn't explode into a puddle of verbal incontinence; spewing gems such as "I was told to re-birth my child!" or "My son might have autism but I'm leaning more towards jerkism" or "I sniff my bras way too often" while going in for the first handshake.

I arrived at 7:30 and waited outside for my friend. She showed up right on time and we headed in. We paid 10 euros and were given a casino chip for our free drink. There were two choices; mint tea or watered down punsch. I settled for the tea because my pits were already schwitzing. Nice Tova. Nice imagery. I looked around the room and noted that I was the chubbiest girl in the room; kind of like a life raft surrounded by seagulls: if seagulls were twenty year olds with plumped-up lips, botox and Chanel purses. There was a wide spectrum of men in suits and expensive watches. And can I just talk about the lips for a second? Ladies? Why? I mean, yes, I am a slave to my endless quest to find a lip plumper that works but I also don't want to look I can shelve a dictionary on my top lip. Two of these ladies were so pretty but their lips entered the room a full minute before the rest of them did.

The get together took place at Aux Gazelles; a French Moroccan restaurant. It was my first time there and it is HUGE! I got lost on my way to the toilets and I kept ending up in random harem-themed rooms exclaiming "I need an adult!" The place was hopping and the mating dance of the single and maybe not so single started. I noted that no one was looking my way and I moaned and complained. Look, I'm happily married but it would be nice if just one time I could say "You're sweet, but I'm mawwied." Nope. Not one time has that happened to me in years. Look, I know I'm not a looker but in a dark room, I'm not Quasimodo. And doesn't personality and a braying laugh count for anything these days?!? A friend pointed out that it might be the 3 diamond rings I wear on my ring finger. I said that couldn't be the reason when I spend the majority of the time rooting around in my purse for crap with that hand.

Another friend joined us a little later and he had the brilliant idea to get a round of vodka shots. Am I actually on Springbreak? I relented and we all knocked a shot back. And that is when the burning and choking started. I'd like to say that I am a snob and that this vodka was not up to my standards but actually, the liquid went down the wrong way. I started to dry heave, cough and my eyes filled up with tears. I doubled over and almost threw up on the dance floor, right in the middle of the action. A few smacks on my back and some sips from my friend's white wine spritzer and I was fine. Shaken, stirred, but fine. And still I didn't get picked up last night. Weird.

I called it a night just after 10 and made my way back home, wondering if I would drown in my sleep due to the vodka in my lungs. I'm happy that I didn't drink much because I probably would have struck up a conversation with some random stranger who would most likely pull a whole Romi and Michelle "My shoe is filling up with blood" exit excuse. Thank goodness for small blessings. Tomorrow is American Thanksgiving. I'd like to wish you all a great and safe holiday. Tomorrow is a very very important day for me and the Kid which I will talk about tomorrow. Now it is time for me to have some tea, curl up on the sofa and watch Melrose Place. Sometimes quiet nights in are the best nights of them all. And at least here, I have a guy who thinks I'm hot. But I think he has to say that because breaking up would be very expensive. Happy Wednesday!