Set your seat warmers at 3 and buckle up!
Well hello ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to a really really long social activity recap blog! I've been such a busy girl since I came back from Arizona that I went and got myself sick as a dooooggie. I figured hey, if I can't actually be having any fun right now, I might as well reminisc about the fun I have had from the comfort of my sick bed as I look into the dark darkness that is a Thursday night without a new OC and without Whitlows. (Side note: boy oh boy, my bed certainly does come up a lot in this blog. And not in a sexual way.)
So. Wednesday brought a return to the office and my annual performance review. Long story short, I am one hell of a hot commodity and my boss simply wouldn't know what to do without me! Suhweeeeet! They really, really like me (*appropriately timed Oscar humor). Whether this will translate into a raise or promotion or most hopefully, both, will be determined sometime this week when I meet with the bigger boss. Cross your fingers. That night I did something I haven't done in quite some time -- talk on the phone for nearly two hours. With the same person. Whose house I could probably have walked to in less time. But that's part of the fun of it. I don't reccomend spraying noxious fumes inside your unventilated kitchen, but hey, if the gas on the stove was already running, no harm no foul...right? Huffing fueled a delightful conversation that jumped from Streetsweepers to Napoleon Dynamite to Life as a Driveway. A good time was had by all.
Thursday I got to work in jeans and snow boots, to be greeted by my boss who was puzzled as to why I wasn't ready for our meeting. Whoops. Had to run home and change into some business casual and then I was ready to rock. And by rock, I mean present concepts to my client. Rock on. The first of what would be a couple of snow storms that didn't amount to much started that afternoon; everyone was all a flutter and the roads were easier to drive on than they are when it rains. Whaaatever. Sidenote for Drew: They just played the "Let's get campy!" commercial. Anyhow, it was my turn to cook so I made delicious lemon chicken, some of Beth's secret recipe for spinach, and some tomato pasta (for the ghetto Giant by my house's lack of orzo). As we ate we enjoyed the oh so wonderful and glorious episode of the OC, which either brought back or hinted at bringing back all of my favorite couples. YES! Seth and Summer forever! Then, per usual, it was off to Whitlows. I walked in the door and was immediately greeted by Jess and WASTEY Jayner, and "introduced" to Laura's "really good friend." Then I found Drew, Spradlin, Tim, etc. and got to meet Drew's new interest (and approve). Tim inquired about the outcome of my whole bed fiasco. I told him that yes, it did come, and that it had been a red letter day. Drew responded, "me too, and that letter was Zzzzzzzz. Funny. I overheard some bathroom fodder too inexplicable to be suitable for eVesdropper that had to do with Omarion and "beer gremlins." A coworker of yore was playing in the band, so I felt a big of psuedo celebrity, which always spices up an evening. I learned a lesson that most of us could probably have figured out on our own -- that fire and Spradlin do not mix, but was rewarded with a delicious beer, listening to Spradlin's divine commentary ("Spradlin, those pearly gates are gonna slap you in the face!" - God), and meeting Air Spradlin's first fan at the bar. Whether it was foosball or tongue wars, Chris was all battling all over the bar's back room. Spradlin invented another kind of cup out of the Whitlows mug, but only after he really could have used it. We began to turn into pumpkins and retired to our automobiles, all set for a super fun Friday...riiiiiight.
Friday. Work, schmork. I was about to settle into the idea of renting a movie and sitting on my arse all night, but it turned out it didn't take a whole lot of coersion to get my out to the Clarendon Grill. I let mischeivous Amanda out for a moment and set the Google Trap (one of Hailey Mills' lesser known films), but all is well now. Right about that timje, Drew pulled everybody in for a little huddle - "I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. (pointing at self) Wasted." When it came time to partake in the cover band, I discovered that they were the cover band that the girls and I had had a blast at just about this time last year, that culminated in us starring on their website. Hilarious memories. Spradlin made haste with making pals with the drummer, then finding an emeny in the bathroom -- that equally hilariously turned out to be Bill Bozin. The night was saved by self-invitations, seat heaters, and fighting over pillows. All in all, a good time.
Saturday. Big day. Started out as any big day should, with napping. Sweet, sweet napping. Again, my bed. Such a pit. Sucks you in like no other. After reveling in the witless Jessica Simpson for a while, it was time to gather the pieces to the Spradlin puzzle and pay a visit to Pop Pop's house. I had a really great time with good old boys, learning the many uses of frying pans, the wonder of in-home vending machines (particularly when they're Redskins themed), the particular crowd to which Mattos Paints means something, the reality of American Hot Rods, and exactly how many times the word chrome can be used in the span of an hour.
Saturday night was the night of a million parties. My shortbus partner and I made it to all of them with the exception of Jon's welcome home party, which I'm really sorry I missed, and as a sidenote - WELCOME HOME JON FORDE!!!! We are all SO HAPPY to have you back! Anyhow, I guess I underestimated the degree to which Spradlin & Rob would "dress to impress," (given that no guy has ever actually dressed impressively upon that notion), but at least I ended up traveling with the two best lookin guys at the party, so rock on. But we're not quite there yet. First, a cocktail party at the Lampa's new insanely beautiful (if underfurnished) Arlington house. The "hour burbs" were great, the drinks were delightful, and the company was faaaantastic. It was desperate housewives, it was passions, it was barbie and the melon heads. As every good evening should be, it was punctuated by some quality bazooka joe action ("You can count on your friends, but it's easier to use your fingers and toes." "He who laughs last...obviously didn't get the joke."). It proved a worthy distraction, as I completely forgot to drive to Rob's house first and started making my way for Jenna's apartment. Whoops. Turned out we didn't really need to go to Rob's anyway, but hey, all in the course of things. We got some class of '00 fun times over at Jenna & Lizard's new pad (which is GREAT, by the way), certain people sipped some Hennesy on the rocks, then Team One was off to Tom Tom's (which, apparently had gotten touted around Vienna as "Amanda Mattos is renting out a bar in Adam's Morgan." My phone, it rang a lot. Until I handed it to a stranger who asked to use it, then Spradled away and left it for Tom Tom's bar staff to find later...).
I was greeted by Sara Dixon, with whom I proclaimed her to be my favorite person (and I hers) to any person that would listen for the rest of the night. There were too many other fun people there to even count, but it was a great night. Betsy told me that one of the drink specials was "all shooters are $3!" I thought hey, great deal, I'll buy 12. They weren't $3. But, I guess since I bought in bulk (?), the bartended charged me $4 instead of $7 a piece. Yeeeeeeeeeeeesh. Yowza, this blog entry is getting really long. Sorry peeps, bear with me. How about just catch phrases to explain the rest of Saturday night? Faux flirting ~ Dance party USA broken up by STINK BOMB! ~ jumbo slice and feeding jennie the meat-free pieces ~ the million man march to the car (with and without shoes) ~ Big Pun & The PT Bruiser ~ a 2-block/$15 cab ride ~ clown-style squeezing into the Passat ~ Mr. Spradlin's Wild Ride home, featuring tipstronics ~ Jennie Pearl and the love connection ~ "Wait...YOU KNOW HER!?!"
Sunday! Stumbly McGee made it to the car and drover herself to Betsy's birthday brunch at Whitlows, where they kindly seated all the hungover kids in the menopause room (I'm calling it this because of the heat flashes featured in this lovely setting). We had a great time, I miss my girls. I had fun even in spite of the fact that they enacted one of my biggest pet peeves - bringing me diet coke instead of regular. I'd have to say the highlight was the overheard 69 conversation, and how delightful our waitress found that to be. After some "WEIRD!" transactions, we said our goodbyes and it was off for some vegetation, tivo style, on mom's couch. Sunday night I attempted to attend Nicole's Oscar party, but after about thirty minutes of circling her building, could NOT figure out how to get into the damn place. I threw in the towel and went to watch them with mom, which turned out to be a better idea since it was Sunday night that I began to develop this here influenza.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday full of sniffles, coughes, sore throat, aches, fever...yeah, totally glamorous and awesome. I feel like a million bucks. Minus like a million and a half bucks. Anyhow, there you have it folks. *Exhale! I think I'm developing carpel-tunel syndrome, so I'm going now.
And, Alias is on.
And I'm hungry.