My alcohol soaked world

I laid low this weekend. I thought I would do the same this week. Then I started chatting with Gloria. That's when I realized thst it was my duty to go out.



On my way out I noticed the usual shop window. I think the top on the right is so cute. Pair that with the wonder jeans and there is no stopping me.

I spent the rest of the evening shocking folks on my age. One chick, originally from L.A., asked me for my phone number because she thought I was that cool.

I decided to end this post with shots of my walk home. This is no different from any other night.






As my mother would say, "There but for the grace of God..."

Laying low

So it looks like the whole job thing is going to work out. The biggest challenge is that the union has been threatening a strike. Therefore, most of the folks in HR have been offsite trying to recruit emergency teachers in the event of a strike. This also means that they have been ignoring the paperwork that is already on their desks.

I spent yesterday watching daytime TV and napping with the kittens. I kept trying to move but they kept saying, "C'mon. What's another hour or two?"

Today? Well, I guess I should do some more cleaning around the apartment. It looks like one of my best friends may be coming into town next weekend for Gertrude's birthday party. It's usually a wild time when we're all together. I am also anxious to see her ring. (She just got engaged on Christmas.) We will, of course, also have to discuss the wedding plans in depth. I have learned over the years that it really doesn't matter if I get married as long as friends and family let me help them plan their weddings.

So I'm debating about whether I should head out tonight. I know, I know. Whenever I say this, I end up going out. This time might be different though. Then again I do now have all these clean clothes. Why I could even wear something other than the magical jeans. On the other hand, there is all this wonderful food in the fridge just begging to be consumed.

In limbo

You ever have those kind of days in which you feel like you don't know if you should be laughing or crying? Yesterday was one of those for me.

I was supposed to start my new job on Monday. Instead I have been dealing with the dreaded people in HR. On Monday they told me that they had indeed received my paperwork but it was still being processed. I mentioned the possibility that I would need to be re-fingerprinted. They confirmed this. I could not be fingerprinted until they reviewed my paperwork. I left with the assurance that someone would contact me within 24 hours.

I went back to HR today because I had not heard from anyone since that conversation on Monday. The guy I spoke to on Monday asked, "Didn't anyone contact you on Monday?" I calmly stated, "No. That's why I'm here today." He then pulled me aside and explained that I was not eligible for rehire in the district. I asked if that was the case, then why did they send my application to another principal. Why? Because they don't bother with pulling files when they receive applications.

I was not really surprised. My last year working for the district, I worked for this awful man. I have learned a great deal about him upon leaving. He laid me off with a probationary release. This is what supposedly makes me ineligible for hire in the district. Never mind that the year before I worked at the best middle school in the district and had glowing reviews. Never mind that in my first year I taught the daughter of the then school board president who told me that I was a wonderful addition to the profession after she observed my class one day. Never mind that the summer before taking this job, I finished my work on my credential at an elementary school with a highly respected principal. (She thinks I walk on water by the way. She also thinks I could use some fattening up.) No, all that matters is that the last jerk of a principal for whom I worked didn't like me.

What I have learned since leaving there is that he has a thing against black women. (He is black too by the way.) If a black woman at the school is not sleeping with him or one of his buddies, then she's out of there.

When I shared the news with my family earlier today, they thought that I was crushed. I was -- for about a couple of minutes. Then I became ... I don't know what I became. It just wasn't crushed. All I knew was that being crushed is what this awful man would expect. I refuse to give him that satisfaction.

My family has been surprised with my resilience under the circumstances. By the time I left HR and got in my car, I was working through all of my options in my mind. One of them involves doing something I swore I would never do -- going into my 401(k)/403(b). My dad asked about me going back to fulltime at the job I left for this one. (I am still there on a parttime basis.) The thing is that I have seen what is possible and that job wasn't it. I just need the luxury of a little more time.

I called the teacher I was supposed to replace and left a message on her cellphone. She called me back on my way to the tutoring center. It seems that the principal believes in me and is going to the next level of HR to fight the decision. There's still a chance. OK. So the chance is slim but there's still a chance. It also made me feel optimistic in knowing that there are people out there who are willing to fight for me.

In the meantime, I am going to continue to explore all of my options, take care of the household chores that I neglected because I worked so many hours at my last job, and to maybe finish up some of those craft projects I started long ago. Oh yeah. And I will continue to hang out with boys who think I'm wonderful. (I call them "boys" since most of the last guys who I have met are in the 24-30 age range. My fave was the poor little 25-year-old who thought that I was younger than he is.) Oh. And I guess I should continue planning my birthday party. It's in June and I will be 40.

(Sorry for the long post. Just felt that I should get some things off of my chest.)

Boys are irritating

So I am still living in that limbo of underemployment. Those lovely folks in HR acknowledged yesterday that they did have my paperwork but they have been terribly busy. When I left yesterday, I was given the assurance that I would hear from someone within 24 hours. I'm still waiting.

Now I say underemployment because I am actually still a part-time employee at my former job. They did have to pay out my accrued vacation (almost two weeks) when I changed my status so maybe I should just say I am on vacation.

Yesterday I went to Sack of Tomatoes to help out my dad at his office. I forgot to look through the wine stash but I will probably be heading back up there later this week. On the way home, I thought of stopping at T-Rex to pick up some dinner but then figured I might have to wait. It was 7 p.m. and I hadn't eaten all day long. That was not a good idea. Of course, maybe the next time Gloria makes it up this way, I can talk her into joining me there. I simply must check the place out one of these days.

Today I figured that I should be productive while waiting to hear from those HR people. First order of business was laundry. At least I didn't have to go to the bank to get a roll of quarters. (Thank you nice cashier at Petsmart last night.) That meant I could sleep in until the late hour of 8. There was a slight hitch. I remembered that I was low on detergent. That meant a trip to Andronico's. Now since this is a semi-vacation, I decided that I deserved the crack of cheese. Oh, and how could I resist the blood oranges? And then they had the nerve to have lamb rib chops on sale. I ended up with three bags of groceries -- one bag too many as I was walking. But I needed the exercise. After all, I have spent the last year and a half in an office sitting on my butt. (Yes, I could have driven the five blocks but I managed to acquire a primo parking space in front of my building. Makes me not want to go into work this afternoon. I guess I could take BART but that might lead to a whole other post. I'll have to think about it.)

So I finally make it home with the groceries and sore arms when I see one of my neighbors coming up from the basement. He had beat me to the one machine. (Yes, twelve apartments and only one friggin' machine.) I briefly thought of loading all the laundry into the car and heading to the laundromat. There was that whole primo parking thing again though. Also I am not a fan of laundromats. I took a peek to see how much stuff he had. By my calculations, I should have had enough time to do one load before heading to work. That was not the case though. By the time his second load should have been in the dryer, it was still in the washer. By my calculations the dryer had stopped at least 30 minutes before. Where was the slacker? If I had known which apartment he was in, I would have gone to inquire. So no laundry done. I had to content myself with cleaning litter boxes instead.

Oh, and since I still haven't heard from the folks in HR, maybe I should just head out again tonight. I mean I was good and stayed in yesterday.

What comes around

So I went to check out the boy in his place of work. He's an ok bartender. I still love my regular bartender so much more. I dunno. There's something about a man with a shaved head, a soul patch, way cool tattoos, and knowing his way around cocktails that is completely hot.

So tonight was soul night at the bar. I felt like I was at a family reunion. So much Chicago step going on. (Yes, I do have relatives from Chi-town.)

The entertainment started with the chickenhead who kept on trying to talk to the guys next to me at the bar. She claimed that the bartender was her ex. Hmmmm. Maybe this is some of the issues he mentioned.

As I talked further with the guys next to me, I discovered that one of the guys used to date my cousin. Yes, the cousin of the previous post. He was definitely infatuated. I know this because he could not seem to keep his hands off of me. I finally told him that I had been invited out by a guy who was not looking kindly on his pawing of me. This is right before he was escorted away. When he returned, he thne told me he only had one thing to say -- "Black power!" Oh, and that he was a man and not a boy. If he had been reading my blog, he would know of my predilection for boys. (Only boys of legal drinking age though. I do not want to become one of those teachers you hear about in the news.)

So Mr. Black Power will be calling me tomorrow to see if I am feeling him the same way that he is feeling me. What I wonder is if the next part is a test or not. While he was off chatting with the bar employee who was telling who I am, one of his buddies said, "I have written my phone number on the napkin under my drink. Call me." Now this guy was sporting a gold band on his left hand. I told his buddy that his friend desperately wanted to get home to the wife and kids. The friend told me that the guy had been thrown out of his home. I wonder why. After they left, I picked up the napkin. There indeed was a name and a phone number. I am debating because he was much cuter than his friend.

Of course, I want to know if he wrote the phone number down before or after I did the obligatory spin. The first guy swore that he had told my friends that I was hiding up under my coat. When I finally took the coat off, he asked me to do a spin. I had to do it because, I am sorry, for a skinny chick I know that I do have some junk in the trunk. Thank you Old Navy ultra lowrise jeans for showing this off to its best advantage.

So I hung around until the bar closed and the boy had finished cleaning. He had to run home because he has a therapy session at 7:30 tomorrow morning. Fascinating...

If you've gotten to know me by now, you've gotta know that I just can't stay away from the bad boys...

We all have someone like this in our lives

Monday is my cousin's birthday. During the past week I received a phone call saying that we would all be going out to dinner on Saturday. Luckily I love dining out, especially if it is somewhere I have never been. My only reservation is that it was for my cousin.

I have never missed a birthday party, bridal shower, baby shower, or kid's birthday party. Heck. I even made the bridesmaids's dresses for her wedding. (Mine is still hanging in my closet. I doubt it will ever be worn again.) On the other hand, whenever it is an event for me, she suddenly has a migraine. An occasional migraine I can understand but everytime there is something for me? Just seems a little suspect is all I am saying.

So we went to Paradiso. Right after the entrees were served, I remembered how much y'all like food photos so I snapped a couple for your enjoyment.



I had the seared Ahi. Tasty.



My aunt, and at least one other person at the table, had the rack of lamb. I was a tad worried when they ordered it medium. Medium turned out to be more like medium rare -- much to my liking but to their chagrin. I just think you should warm it up and slap it on a plate.

The service could have been better but the food was definitely tasty. Then there was the whole check thing. Thankfully my cousin's dad was present. (He played pro football for seven years back in the day. If I remember correctly, he has three Super Bowl rings. I am too young to remember his career. I remember being flower girl at his wedding.) I had slapped out $60 for my share. He ended up giving me $20 back.

I had previously said that I was not going out this weekend. I have been suffering from an icky sinus infection. That before Paradiso and the two Sidecars I had there and the extra $20 I found in my pocket at the end of dinner. On the drive home I felt the blood rushing to my face and thought, "You know. Another drink wouldn't be that bad." What else was I going to do? Hang out with the cats? Yeah, right. Did that on Friday. (I know that there are people who are once more thinking, "Thank goodness she doesn't have children.) I mean I had on a cute outfit and OK hair. I know the rule is only go out with great hair but I was able to effectively turn the OK hair into pretty good hair. Then again it could have been the alcohol coursing through my veins. If it had been Jose, Jim, or Jack, I would know that the alcohol was definitely to blame. Those three guys have a way of possessing you. So after feeding the cats and brushing my teeth, I headed out.

The first guy I met was visiting. He's originally from Boston and went to UConn. He's training for the decathlon. Talk about hot and I am a sucker for that Boston accent.

The next guy was thoroughly entertaining. He is no longer having birthday parties. Instead he is going to throw a wake each year. His reasoning is that wakes are usually a lot more fun than birthday parties. He also figures that if some hot chick has secretly been in love with him, he would like to hear it before he dies. I insisted that I had to have his phone number because I have to go to the wake. It will be in April. Stay tuned for details.

The last guy was the little boy sporting the D&G sunglasses. Obviously I had had quite a few cocktails at that point because I usually run from guys who wear sunglasses at night. He was entertaining though. Oh, and I just got off the phone with Gertrude. She found it disturbing when I told her that today he had to go do laundry with his mom. Actually her exact words were, "How old is this guy anyway?" She then said that age didn't matter. The fact that he lives with his mom and goes every Sunday to do laundry with her is what is disturbing. Eh. He said he had issues. Guess I'll find out more about them when I go to his bar tonight. (Yes, he is a bartender.)

When I went to upload the food photos, I found that I had also taken these on my walk home last night.





And finally, the true sign that it was a rough night last night -- I am thinking that it may be time for hair of the dog. *sigh* Thank goodness all I have to do tomorrow is go to HR and then head to Sack of tomatoes to do some work for my dad. Hmmmm. I wonder how much wine he has stashed in the warehouse at his office...

Everything is new

For the last year and a half I have been working at a tutoring center (K-12). Back in December the center director told me that she was looking for a new job. She was the fourth person in that position in my time at the center. I decided that I just did not have the mental strength to go through yet another transition. The teachers in the center for the most part do not deal well with change. One of my main functions has been assuring them that everything would be alright after each change. Let me tell you that the whole thing is draining. There's also the 10-12 hour days. Last year the first holiday that I did not work was the fourth of July. I also have had to work alternate weekends. To say that I am burned out would be an understatement.

I knew at in December that perhaps it was time for me to make a change. I wanted to return to the classroom and figured that I would stick it out until the next school year started. Then I looked around online out of curiousity and discovered that there were classroom positions open now. Last Monday I sent off a resume in response to one of these postings. Within three hours, I received a call from the principal. She had noticed that I had previously taught at the number one middle school in the district and had called the principal there. Fortunately that principal thinks that I am a wonderful person and teacher. I went in last Thursday for my interview. The interview consisted of one question -- "When can you start?"

Meanwhile, the higher-ups at my current job had gotten wind that I was thinking about leaving. Their response? "We should fire her." HR told her that this was not a possibility as I had never been reprimanded for anything. I figure she has now racked up quite a few bad karma points.

So today was my last day as a fulltime employee at the center. OK. Actually Saturday is my last day but I was supposed to be off this weekend anyway. I will be staying on at the center as a parttime employee.

The problem is that I still do not have my contract for the new job and they want me to start on Monday. That means I will be making a visit to HR tomorrow morning to light a fire under them. It's not like I should have to submit a lot of paperwork because I worked for this school district until a year and a half ago. The principal at the new school was going to get everything straightened out today at a meeting but the meeting was cancelled. Apparently a teacher at my previous school collapsed in class and died at the hospital today. I am still trying to process that. He had the classroom behind mine and was this really cool guy.

I talked to the teacher I am replacing tonight. She is feeling like she is in limbo as well because she cannot start her new job until they complete my paperwork. So tomorrow it's HR. Oh, and I guess I should cancel the interview for that other teaching job for which I applied. It also means that there probably will not be any partying this weekend. That's OK though. Gertrude will be celebrating her 40th birthday next weekend. I am sure it will be one hell of a party.

Reality rears its ugly head

So last night was The Bachelor. Tonight was American Idol and Queer Eye. Tomorrow will be Project Runway. Reality TV has taken over my life.

I love the first few episodes of Idol. It's all about the auditions. My fave tonight was the Ukranian chick who was hoping to make it onto the show so she could stay in the U.S. If she had had a better voice, I would have told her to try out for the chorus in some Broadway show. But she wasn't that good. Her dance moves did remind me of something though. All I can say is that the judges were damn lucky there wasn't a pole in the middle of the floor.

I so love Queer Eye. I had a coworker read Jen's post on Jeeves earlier today. He was not familiar with Jeeves. When I described Jeeves to him, he said, "Oh. It's like having a crew of the Queer Eye guys around." I told him, "Yes, but all rolled into one person." Anyway to tonight's Queer Eye. The guys with a bunch of naked lodge members? Classic.

I am indulging in all this stuff while I am waiting around for the start of my true reality faves -- The Amazing Race and Big Brother. Jade told me earlier this week that Amazing Race is having auditions in this area. She would ask me to audition with her if it wasn't for the fact that I will be starting the new job soon. Then again I am tempted to say, "Screw the new job." I mean it's a chance to see the world and to possibly win half a million dollars. I think I will have to ponder this.

Bad to the bone

So I've been tagged so I guess I should get it all out of the way.

1. I am a slob at heart. I like to think of it as organized clutter as I know precisely where everything is. If there is any doubt, check this out. The first time this guy who I dated years ago (OK. So maybe it really wasn't dating but it went on for years.) was at my apartment he promptly started washing dishes. He then offered to come back on a later date to clean the rest of place. That's when I knew I was in love. That and the fact that he was a firefighter. Huh. It just dawned on me that I had my own Jeeves. Somehow I lost track of him a couple of years ago and that greatly saddens me.

2. Related to the slob thing is that somedays I do not have the energy to scoop the litterboxes. I do scoop at least every other day though. There are limits.

3. Sometimes I cut people off when they are talking. Usually this happens to relatives and boys in bars. Some of my relatives complain that I am being rude. Of course these are the same folks who are always looking for things I do wrong. The more tolerant ones say that they understand that my brain works at higher speeds than theirs do. Bottom line is get to the point already and I won't have to interrupt. I am just trying to stop my eyes from glazing over.

4. Oh yeah. How can I forget? I smoke. On stressful days it can be a pack a day. Oh and their Camels -- but at least they have filters so shut up already. It also used to be an effective ploy of getting rid of annoying boys in bars but then they banned smoking in bars. Now it's a way to meet cute boys while standing outside of bars in the rain.

5. I can be painfully sarcastic. I had a boss who once told me that he appreciated my sarcasm because it showed that I was intelligent. He then asked me to ease off of some of my co-workers and to try to channel my intelligence more positively. I wanted to tell him what he could kiss but then I thought better of it. Now I try to keep the sarcasm out of the workplace but every now and then it creeps in. I now usually save it for those who have as acerbic a tongue as mine. By the way Gloria, I recognized what I assume to be sarcasm in your tag.

So guess it's time for me to do some tagging. Flare, you're it.

Oh and a parting photo.



The whole time I have been writing I have had to suffer through listening to Boris howling. This is the third time this week the little bugger has gotten himself stuck back there. Oh, but the difference is he has now gotten himself out just as I was typing the words about him being stuck.



This is the aftermath. Obviously he has yet to learn how anal I am about my CD's. That and now I have to clean. Read number one, damnit. Thanks. Oh, and does anyone want a kitten?

Enter the eunuch

Boris finally had his surgery yesterday. It was supposed to happen on Thursday but they had to reschedule due to some problem with the anasthesia machine. My response, naturally, was, "But he's a tough little booger. He doesn't need anasthesia. Anasthesia is for wimps." Why is it that women chuckle at that and men have a deeply pained look on their faces whenever I say this?



Oh well. Here is a shot of Boris relaxin' (I was going to say "chillin'" but that was another post.) this past Sunday. He had no clue what was in store for him.

Last night he tried running all over the place, playing with Natasha. He was supposed to be taking it easy but he rarely listens to me. Actually I really wouldn't know much about his behavior last night except for his first hour home.

I went into San Francisco. I decided to be daring and to take BART, something I rarely do in the evening. The ride was almost enough to make my night. I got on the train and was greeted by the Ying Yang Twins or someone similar. They were each sprawled across a seat -- not together, two separate seats. Then this woman got on in downtown Oakland.

"Hey. How are you doing?"

"I have a man. I'm going to the next car."

"Oh. Because you know I'd be on you with all that ass."

As the woman went into the next car, the guy turned to his friend. "I'm a savage."

I was in San Francisco for a screening of A History of Violence. The director answered questions after the movie and then there was a reception with wine and appetizers. (I could probably do a whole post on Cronenberg's discussion of his film. I mean the discussion started with, "Politics, violence, and sex are the same thing.") I, of course, stopped at my fave place on the way home which means I got in around 2:30 or so.

Met a 26 year old boxer who kept trying to convince me that I needed him in my life or in somewhere. I think we parted ways when he tried to foist his developmentally challenged friend on me. It wasn't the foisting that was so bad. It was that he was so entertained. I then went on to meet other boys, one of whom walked me home. I think he may have had some things in common with Boris if I remember correctly.

I just hope that this means less time of Boris climbing up the curtains so that he can walk across the curtain rod. What am I thinking? He's a boy after all...

Pickled liver

So of course I did more than drive around San Francisco taking photos for the previous and futures posts. I ended my tour of San Francisco in North Beach with a few drinks. Then it was home to feed the kittens. Next stop was my real parents's house. I realized that the last few years I had missed my requisite black eyed peas and collard greens. No wonder things didn't quite work out. Dinner there also meant my choice of wine.

On my way home I decided the night was young so I may as well stop at the bar. It was the same bartender as on Thursday night and he had only improved slightly. I did end up meeting these two guys -- one works for a travel publication, the other -- well, I don't know what he does but he had that cute Aussie accent. At the end of the evening, they rightfully declared that I was in no condition to drive my car the seven blocks home. I left my car at the metered space. Thank goodness yesterday was a holiday so no meter enforcement. I then walked home with a guy on either side of me. What a great way to start the year!


Natasha insisted that I take her photo before I headed out on Sunday.

What you have been waiting for

I was going to put off doing this post a little longer because the weather here sucks and I needed to go out take photos. Then I read Jen's post and knew it was time to get off my lazy ass. (Oh, and Daniel, you are going to have to scoll again. Sorry.)

I know you have been eagerly perched on the edge of your seats awaiting the much-promised posts. The wait is over. Before I dive in, I'd just like to explain what inspired this series of posts.

First of all, I have been feeling rather nostalgic of late. I received that email from a co-worker. The next day while driving to work, the first song I heard on the radio was My Best Friend's Girl. I know that may be a bit early for some of you but it was a must-play at almost all the parties I went to in high school. Add all of this up with the fact that I have about six months to go to 40... You get the point.

Then there is the whole photo thing. I visit other blogs that always have fab photos. Some of these blogs even contain photos of my home area. I thought to myself that it's silly that I don't post photos of the places around here that I love so much. I also thought it was time for me to document all of this before I kill of the braincells in which these memories reside.

Being nostalgic and all I thought it would be best to start with bars and clubs. I was quite the partygirl after all.

The first club I ever went to was the Palladium. It's not around anymore. Instead we have this in its place. (I meant to take a photo but then I left my carefully prepared list at home. I was, therefore, stuck working from memory.)

The Palladium was great because it was 18 and up (Those 21 and over would receive a special hand stamp.) and it stayed open until 6 a.m. My friends and I would only go there on Thursday and Sunday nights though. The other nights were not our kind of scene. We didn't have fake i.d.'s so we would find a nearby alley and consume lots of vodka and o.j. before entering the club. Once inside it was key to have just the right look so that you could receive a club card. It was the mid-80s and anyone with any modicum of cool did not want to only be seen at a place that advertised on the radio.

Another fave from those days was a weekly thing called the Kno Club. It was held in this theater in Japantown. Now the place is a multiplex and home to the San Francisco International Film Festival.



The biggest thing on the club scene in the 80s was Das. Das is legendary in the San Francisco club scene. It is a word said with utter awe. The place is no longer called Das. In fact, it hasn't been Das since sometime around 1990. The building is still a club and goes by its address these days. Also now you enter on Folsom.



Back then you entered on the alley.



Das also had an 18 and up policy. Fortunately they let you check bags and there was an elementary school nearby.



I am sure I made quite a sight hopping the fence in a lycra mini. We found that once on the grounds, we could go the courtyard in the middle of the buildings and drink undisturbed. If we had anything left, we would just put it in my friend's tote bag that she checked in the club.


I also found it quite disturbing to see that the school is currently being demolished. Then again there is no need to worry about drinking in elsewhere as 1015 is now 21 and up.

Das has so many memories but my fave is probably meeting the Navy nurses. Jade's older sister was driving us to the club one night. She wanted the car to go see her boyfriend and lied to her mother saying that she was going to the club with us. There was heavy traffic on the bridge. (By the way, although I grew up in the East Bay, I have never considered myself to be "bridge and tunnel." I was always a San Franciscan in my mind. I absolutely hate suburbia.) My friend was upset because she was going to be late getting to her boyfriend's. We had been laughing at these guys in the next lane who had been dancing in their cars to whatever was on the radio.

My friend said, "I bet those guys are going to Das. It's a shame you can't get a ride with them."

Next thing I know, Jade, my best friend and sister of the driver, was telling her sister to pull up next to the guys. (Unfortunately Jade was riding shotgun.) Jade rolled down her window and asked, "Are you guys going to Das?"

When they said that they were, Jade then asked, "Can we get a ride?"

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

"OK."

Next thing I know, Jade is hopping out of the car and getting into the car with these random guys. (We were at the toll plaza at the time. Right before the last exit that Jade's sister was able to take to head back to Berkeley.) I couldn't let my friend go alone, so I went along with our other friend. We ended up becoming friends with these guys and hung out with them and their friends for the entire summer.

Enough about the 80s. There were a lot of other clubs. There was a lot of alcohol and drugs. (I didn't do drugs but most of my friends did.) I think we were all a little out of control back then.

On a side note -- On my way home, I suddenly realized that I had had way to much tea to drink. I was forced to stop at one of my favorite bars. I told myself that I was just going to have one drink and to use the facilities. Then of course I ran into a former bartender from the place who insisted on getting my drink for me. Well I had to stay around. I left after three drinks, only one of which I paid for. (The bartender who was working picked up my last drink.) Still glad to see I've got it. But more about this place in a future post.

Happy New Year's to you all!