Wonder of Wonderful Weekends

Here's the part where I regale you with the tales of my terribly exciting social life. I am going to gleam past the whole Redskins losing thing. That experience took from my: my voice, part of my cornea, and happiness. (Seriously. Still sound like Kathleen Turner and have a corneal abrasion thanks to Sunday night. Sadly, no eye patch.) So, aside from that...


Friday night I went to Founding Farmers, the new restaurant at the IMF building owned by the North Dakota farmers union. Or something. The building: amazing. And LEED certified! The food: quite good. Though, it's the kind of "sustainable" place where every third thing you ask for, they are out of. And they tell you about that unfortunate circumstance 20 minutes after you ordered. But, they did allow a table of 8 -- no make that 9! -- no make that 10! to sit and talk and laugh and carouse for about 2 hours. So that was great. I'd definitely go back. I love a place that offers small plates. Much more the amount of food I'm actually capable of eating at one meal.

After Founding Farmers, we decided to keep on aliterating our Friday night, and headed to Fight Club for a Foto Week opening party. It was awesome! I'd never been to the warehouse-turned skate park/concert venue/gallery before, and it is quite the space. They'd run out of beer and it was raining lots and lots, so we didn't stay for too long. But big kudos to Heather and everyone else that was involved with that event. Great job! Then my temporary roomate Johnnie (who is now, very sadly, back in Charlottesville) watched a bunch of episodes of Eerie Indiana and I fell asleep on the couch. Party animal!

Saturday was IFA Field Trip Day! A bunch of us headed out to the far, strange place that is Eden Center. I am being fecetious; Eden Center is about 1 mile from my former home, and therefore, I dont' think it's very far away at all. We ate lots and lots of Bahn Mi, some bun, and a few other Vietnamese delicacies. We also shopped, watched Capps try and buy a giant fake jewel from the display case of a jewelry store, and saw some ridiculous stuff. A few errands and a nap later, it was time to stop by a going away party, and go see the new Bond movie. It was fun; not as good as Casino Royale, but entertaining and definitely a worthy activity on a rainy Saturday night. Then it was pork buns at Chinatown Express, of course, and the declaration that we just weren't really in the mood for a big party. Less than 5 minutes after returning to the party, that reluctance turned into whiskey shots. We danced, we sang, we closed up the cafe, and went around the corner to the aptly described BEST. PARTY. EVER. Everyone I've talked to in Bloomingdale this week has been trying to put our fingers on just what was so great about that party. We think it was probably all the being really drunk and dancing a lot. But there was something more! Sometimes a party just has the right mojo. And this one did. The mojo floated on a river of beer, champaign and jim beam. All night long.

Groggily, Sunday morning brought Big Bear, lox bagel sandwiches (so. good.), farmer's marketing, recouperation, and hours and hours of excellent tailgating in some truly cold weather. But once I put on my 3 pairs of pants, 3 pairs of socks, fuzzy boots, 6 shirts (including 2 layers of under armor), 3 pairs of gloves and 3 hats and headed into the stadium, I was good to go. For the first half, at least. Seriously -- I hate you, Dallas. Give me my cornea back.