Imagine That...

The Third Largest Party in the World

For ten days in late April, the city of San Antonio hosts what is known as "Fiesta" - a city-wide celebration only topped in attendance and duration by Mardi Gras and Rio respectively. This was my third Fiesta, and though you'd think I'd had enough of the parades, endless onslaught of confetti in my hair, and generally wholesome merriment, I succombed gleefully in the direction of fun.

I am told, Fiesta commemorates the Battle of San Jacinto. For those of you non-Texans (myself included) who were not lucky enough to sit through an entire year of Texas History in high school (yes - they really do that here), San Jacinto was THE battle that severed the burgeoning Republic of Tejas from the unruly control of Mexico. For the record, San Jacinto is not even remotely near San Antonio. It's near Houston. Even though there was a perfectly good battle fought at our quaint city landmark, it's San Antonio's nature to oddly go with whatever makes the least amount of sense. Which is why, I rode my bike with some friends to my first Fiesta event of the year - "A Taste of New Orleans."

Fiesta,

Wait. Did I read that right? A Taste of New Orleans? As if being third on the list of world's largest parties wasn't bad enough, we have to dedicate an entire event to the city that inhabits the top spot? No knock on Creole or Cajun culture, but I think Fiesta should be all about what makes our city particularly unique.

Now that I've gotten that out of the way, I can totally show off my handlebar mustache:

Me and Matt Fleeger - the Fleegers were kind enough to share with me their extra ticket. Marc Toppel also biked with us to the Sunken Gardens - a fine, but completely under-utilized musical venue.

There was a ridiculously great zydeco band on stage and the lead singer fervently displayed his washboard talents for the crowd.

We met up with Karen and Chris Krajcer who were keen on informing us how badly we needed to find crawfish.

So we desperately tried to find some, but for some reason they only found a crawfish etouffee. I went for the fried shrimp which is a pretty close substitute. Once we were out of tickets, we begrudgingly stood a few yards from the funnel cake booth and sulked about not having any more tickets. The garbage can against the tree near us provided a sufficient eddy within the continuously heaving crowd. All of a sudden a little girl emerged with a half eaten funnel cake on a paper plate and headed determinedly toward us. We all winced as she carelessly tossed the remnants of her treat into the receptacle. Karen and I looked at each other in dismay as Marc reached into the trash can to fish out this delectable treasure. And then he ate it, without offing us a crumb.

The Fleegers and the Krajcers.

Me with the Fleegers - we headed out soon after the zydeco Marvin Gaye cover. Aside from the music which was incredible - especially in the amphitheater carved into the old cement quarry, the best thing about this Fiesta event was the fusion of San Antonio's major ethnicities. It was hands down the most diverse experience I've had in SATX.

When Marc moved into his new place several months back he stumbled upon a gold mine. In his garage were almost 12 dozen (what is that, a gross?) hollowed out eggs, and several bags  of confetti. Rather than paying inflated rates for in-season cascarones (confetti-filled eggs), Marc had Vicki and I over to watch a movie and fashion our own. It was a simple procedure: dye the shells, dry, fill, and cover with tissue paper.

 

The only problem was that Marc and Vicki put me in charge of getting things started, forgetting about the fact that Jews don't know how to dye eggs. I didn't boil the water first or remember to put in vinegar until after the fact, so our eggs were on the pastel side.

Vicki really enjoyed this. We could tell as she proclaimed, "We should do this every weekend!"

And with that we abruptly ended our weekend. And Monday morning, in a feeble attempt at being taken more seriously around the office, I hastily shaved off my handlebar mustache because I couldn't help but burst our into laughter every time I glanced at my reflection.

But Monday night brought the Fiesta River Parade. And in a strange twist of fate too complicated to recount - myself, Vicki, Alison, Marc, and Raina found ourselves at a riverside table at Casa Rio enjoying a free Mexican meal, margaritas, and in range of throwing confetti-filled eggs at Senator Kay Bailey Hutchinson, the parade's Grand Marshall.

All I'll say is thank you Mamie - your family was so kind to let us go in their stead.

Having found confetti in my hair, house, car, etc..., I took Tuesday and Wednesday off from Fiesta-ing.

On Thursday, my architecture firm (looking forward to our paid day off city holiday - Battle of the Flowers Day) we had a Thursday afternoon happy hour and barbecue.

The courtyard outside the new office, co-workers abound.

The newly installed fountain.

Later on, Marc and I decided to check out the San Antonio Current party for the Best of San Antonio 2007 at the San Antonio Museum of Art (SAMA). Anyone who is anyone in San Antone was there.

And with the free food, free drinks, sublime atmosphere provided by the courtyard architecture, and the sense of euphoria derived from the fact that I had a paid day off in the morrow, I found there was very little to complain about.

Here I am with my usual dance partner - the graceful and lovely Desiree Garza.

Her grace and loveliness was trumped, however, by my impending clumsiness, and several minutes later we were found floor dancing.

In the morning, I biked downtown, which is normally easy enough. But with half a million people clogging the city's central arteries I certainly had to get creative in my efforts to meet some friends to watch the Battle of the Flowers Parade. I circumvented the parade staging area North on Broadway and around to the Lake|Flato office near the Alamo Plaza.

There, I met up with Marc and Raina and her mother. I ditched my bike and we decided take the parade route (prior to it starting) over to our optimal parade viewing spot courtesy of Stephanie and Patrick.

We marched past the auxiliary en route.

Like I said, our parade viewing spot was optimal, in the air-conditioned, shaded, second floor of the Commerce Bank building, whose empty offices are overseen by real estate company that Patrick works for.

I was glad that S&P brought the kids from the neighborhood with them. And they were glad that Marc brought over dozens of our home-made confetti-filled eggs.

Marc and I perched ourselves, cascarones in hand, above the stone cornice over the building's entrance.

Texas flag.

The Queen of Fiesta - one of the traditions of Fiesta is a pageant for well-off debutantes. All the girls from the pageant are provided extravagant floats for the Fiesta parades to show off their intricate dresses. Rumor has it these dresses and ten-foot trails cost about 30K each. The girls all were off-beat foot ware such as bunny slippers or flip-flops and lift up their skirts to reveal them as people in the crowd call out to them, "Show us your shoes!"

The girls are also bestowed odd titles like the Royal Highness of Magical Indonesian Splendor or the Dutchess of Radiant Chinoiserie Delight.

All the balloons had to be lowered below the traffic lights.

Me, Mark Jones, (who joined us eventually) and Raina's mom in our window.

Dance Party Float.

Tiger.

 

Caleb, Me, Jones.

Travie.

When the parade ended, the Marc(k)s and I biked over to the East Side to test out a new eatery that Jones was to review for the Current. We tried out Tank's Chicken and Waffles. That's right, I said Chicken and Waffles. You can read Mark's article here...

After a respite, some folks gathered at my roof terrace for our regular Last-Friday-of-the-Month bike ride. We ventured down to the Alamo to gather with forty of so other bikers, which was a lot more folks than usual.

Alamo Plaza.

Nico and I.

Kristen, Skyler, and Victoria IV.

Ready to go!

Because it was Fiesta, downtown was really hopping, and we knew it would be a challenge to keep together.

And after an unfortunate encounter with a belligerent cop, headed south, leaving downtown in our dust.

But the bike ride was full of snags. Someone split their chin open, spilling in front of a truck. Several minutes later we encountered a long pause near the railroad tracks to fix a flat tire and then we were delayed further by the passing of a slow moving train.

At our first pit stop, the Union Stock Yards, we were asked to vacate the premises by the security guard.

Then after loosing several members of our gang in the West Side, someone fell off their bike and scraped their leg. Vicki waits underneath the highway overpass.

Despite all the problems, Mark Jones took us on a really interesting route around the West Side. We traversed along a particularly memorable section of town that had the prison on one side and an endless bombardment of bail bond shoppes on the other.

We concluded the evening at the VFW Hall (the oldest in Texas) which was having a Fiesta party of it's own.

We arrived just before last call.

Marc and Nico.

As the evening progressed, our formidable bike gang dissipated. I ended up biking back to Monte Vista where I live with only one other.

By the light of the morning I was up and ready (0nly after picking up a bunch of breakfast tacos, and Marc, his friend Catherine, Raina, and her Mom of course) to head down to King William - Southtown's historic district, where they hold an annual King William Fair. The fair is christened by (guess) a parade!

With breakfast tacos in hand, we were delighted to be able to watch the parade in the comfort and shade of Brian's porch.

Brian and Marc.

Alison drinkin' coffee and Mark taco eatin'.

Parade view.

Folksies on horsies.

Men in white dresses.

Miss Southtown.

Looking pretty.

The best float.

Marching band. I don't miss that.

Before heading over to the fair, we sat around and had a lot of coffee.

King William, as I said, is one of the oldest neighborhoods in San Antonio and one of the nicest. They really do this Fiesta-thing up. Alison and Catherine stand outside the gate and dream of one day soon...

After getting some food tickets, we realized it was noon and headed up to Justin Parr's balcony to tap his pony keg. Caleb takes in the mayhem.

The well-shaded King William streets provided an almost delightful trail on our journey to find...

ROASTED CORN! Yeah! (Its a Fiesta delicacy).

We ran into Juan Carlos and Desiree, who came with us to the mainstage.

There we saw our favorite local band -

Buttercup. Grammy Award winning Joe Reyes with frontman Erik Sanden.

Odie, the bass player, at the end of their killer first set.

Marc snapped this one of Desiree and I. For the record, there is STILL confetti in my hair.

Betsy, Chris and Karen Krajcer.

Mark Jones with Fidel Castro.

Desiree and I (as we so often do at Buttercup shows) riled up the crowd and started a really fun dance at the foot of the stage.

Then it was back to the porch.

Overall, probably the most leisurely day I've had in a while.

Alison might agree, if only there wasn't all that confetti to clean up off the porch.

Desiree, Vicki, and I went and picked up dinner at Cascabel (one of my favorite Mexican restaurants). Desiree was demonstrating how great of a mom she is going to be someday, playing with the little Mexican waitress girls. Vicki was ignoring me on her phone.

At some point after we returned to Brian's porch, it occurred to me that I had been on that porch, drinking beer on and off for about twelve hours. It was time to go...

Fiesta came to an end the next day and I weened myself off such festive cheer by going to San Pedro park and playing some kickball with my friends. We used up all the cascarones that day, so I can breathe only slightly easier until next year about finding confetti all over my life. Until then, I'll watch my back around those tricksy neighborhood kids.

The Case For Beets

I made some beets today.

But not your regular, run-of-the-mill, vibrant fuchsia-colored, earthy, root vegetable.

No, sir. These were organic, locally grown, golden beets that I bought yesterday at Whole Foods for 99 cents a bundle. I just couldn't resist!

Now, I know what you're thinking. Beets? Is this really something to get worked up over? Even the golden ones?

It's usually the reaction I get when I gush over them. People look at me strange. Or they make faces because they themselves are not particularly fond of the beautifully bright red, succulent treat.

Well, I used to be one of you. I remember back in high school - my friend Safiya worked as a server at Steak & Ale. She would tell us stories during band practice about when the old folks would come in for the earlybird and get all cantankerous with her when the salad bar ran out...of beets? I was always in disbelief! Why would anyone get so worked up over a stupid vegetable that no one likes? At the time I just sort of accepted this unusual behavior as "just something old people do" - you know, get all worked up over minutia.

But now I realize that old people are wiser than the rest of us.

My friend Rachael turned me on to them. Or rather the idea of them. It was her favorite food and she spoke well of them claiming that eating beets would prolong death, indefinitely. She insisted that the beet's naturally occurring color was the elixir of immortality. She even let me borrow her copy of Tom Robbin's Jitterbug Perfume to inspire me. I still resisted.

It wasn't until I was living at Taliesin in Wisconsin that I became enraptured in their magic spell. You see, we were growing practically every vegetable known to man in our community garden, and beets were no exception.

The beets were fascinating to watch grow because they sort of popped up out of the ground very suddenly. It was almost as though they informed you when they were ready to be harvested; a gift. Who was I to deny them the pleasure?

But the fun didn't stop there. Our cook Madalena was very excited about the beets and their having been unleashed from the garden and arriving to the kitchen. I didn't exactly share her enthusiasm, but later delighted in eating them as I did anything-so-grown-with-love  brought from our garden.

A few months later I became a house-husband at my friend Kimberly's place in Oregon. I did all the grocery shopping and cooked my woman dinner when she arrived home from work. I never wanted to run out of new and exciting recipes for us to try so I bought beets for the first time. It was at that point when I realized I had no idea how to make them. I had seen bits and pieces of the process, but was never invested enough to suddenly cook them.

Luckily, Madalena was on call - and I emailed her for the magic recipe. She assured me that it was simple.

And in fact it is - easy and fun. All one must do to make a mighty fine beet is to cut off the leaves. Scrub the skin free of any remaining dirt. Boil a large pot full of water taking into consideration that the beets will need to be fully submerged. Though it is tempting, do not cut off the top or the skinny extremity at the bottom. If you do, the beets will loose their color and essential eternal life-granting nutrients. Cook for 30-45 minutes depending on their size. If you can easily stick a fork into one then they are surely done. Drain into a strainer and allow to cool for a few minutes before peeling.

Peeling is my favorite part of this process. I love how the skin just wipes away when you rub your fingers over it. Of course they turn magenta but its so worth it! Cut into pieces. At this point the beets are begging for your enjoyment of their robust, earthy goodness. Lately, I have been mixing them with a freshly chopped shallot clove and drip a little organic ginger-sesame dressing. Delicious.

Now beets are kind of like sushi - in that, its the tasty treat that doesn't stop giving. However unlike sushi where you find sesame seeds or masago in your teeth for hours afterwords, beets remain with you for a day or so. They are digestively intriguing. Try the red ones, you'll see what I mean.

Now these golden beauties I had today, I should mention were sweeter and less intense then red beets. Somehow, I doubt there will be any significant change in color to my pee. I'm sure to find out for certain in the morning. I don't know where I'm going with this.

Dinner Party, Anyone?

If there is one thing that's EVERYWHERE its Martha Stewart.

 

Except of course when you need her. Then she's on a carriage ride at the Hamptons or installing a paper mill in her guest bathroom or on house arrest or something. Too engaged with all the trivial details that make life worth living to come and arrange my first dinner party.

Its just as well. I'm not even very fond of her knowledgeable insights for better living.

Even though I can't claim the idea for a dinner party potluck for my own (because it was Alison's), with the help of a small number of friends, I certainly can champion its success even without that frightening domestic sorceress.

It literally came together at the last minute. Thursday evening I got the go ahead from Alison that she and Brian were free, and it was up to me to muster up some delightful company on very short notice.

I rushed out from work on Friday afternoon to pick up some last minute items at the always distractingly overstimulating Central Market. Then it was a mad dash home to clean up my house and get dinner underway before the guests arrived.

First I made a beat salad. I'm always amused at how eager I am to find any excuse I possibly can to make beats. They are so simple to cook and I can never get enough of their robust, earthy flavor. I think they are especially fun to peel the skin off when you remove them from the boiling water. And then your hands turn red. Actually they make everything red - from your countertops (which thankfully are already red) to your poop.

Brian arrived while I began to prep the veggies for the main course. His contribution was making the refreshing Cuban libation - mojitos.

He made a startling confession: that he had never made mojitos before.  This wouldn't have been much of an issue if he hadn't also admitted to never tasting a mojito before. Thankfully Alison arrived shortly to help figure out the makings of the minty rum concoction.

I continued my entree preparations, chopping onions and shallots and broccoli and zucchini and mushrooms and peppers and tomatoes and scallions and spinach and basil.

Vicki arrived with her delicious cucumber salad. I put her to work making the bow-tie pasta.

After the veggies are sauteed, the pasta was added with some balsamic vinegar and freshly grated Parmesan cheese, and after Matt arrived it was supper time!

It was so great to finally sit around my low dining table on the floor like Japanese people do. Matt and Vicki look so comfortable.

Brian and Alison enjoying dinner and conversation.

The real treat was dessert which Matt baked - personal Chocolate Truffle Cheesecakes. And by "bake" I mean procured at Central Market.

It was all great fun, even though there were no napkin rings or raspberry preserves like had Martha been the hostess. As it turns out, domestic bliss is never about what's missing, but making the most out of what you have.

26 Things That Occured the Weekend I Turned 26

FRIDAY September 23rd - My Birthday Eve

1. I enthusiastically left work at a reasonable hour and dropped off my week's worth of accomplishments in book-making at the developer's office before heading to the bank at Whole Foods to deposit a few checks and buy myself some flowers. It was there that the oh-so-helpful WF's cashier informed me that "the place" to buy pinatas was at The Pinata Store. Ofcourse!

2. After a refreshing nap, April picked me up for dinner. I told her that despite how hungry we were, we had pinata shopping to do. When I explained where the Pinata Store was, she exclaimed, "Perfect! That's right by Lulu's Diner which is a really wacky joint that you'll love."

Unfortunately - both the pinata store and Lulu's diner were closed! The pinata store looked like fun, I couldn't wait to return in the morning to pick one out for my party. Lulu's 24 Hour Diner also looked like fun. It was covered with kitchy murals of purposely ugly half-naked women and chickens and things. April and I were rather vexed by the fact that the door being locked at 7pm, considering it is a 24 hour establishment. A guy with a paper hat sweeping up inside pointed at a sign on the door that read:

Lulu's Diner is always open - except between sundown on Fridays and sundown on Saturdays when it is closed in celebration of God's Holy Day, the SABBATH which is written as one of the ten commandments in the Old Testament. Don't you read?

3.  After 4 months of barely looking, I finally found other Jews in San Antonio... I was pretty amused!

4. We went out for sushi instead, in celebration of my Birthday Eve.

5. Then April took me to The Bijou, which is a fancy little movie theater that serves beer and features only independent films and has people employed there whose job it is to bring you decadent cakes in the middle of your movie. We split a chocolate truffle ordeal and made fun of a British film we decided to see. We couldn't see Broken Flowers like we had planned because it started too late.

6. April dropped me off and I spent the rest of the evening opting for rejuvenation! I took a bath and chanted with Krishna Das on CD and then meditated for world peace.

SATURDAY September 24th - My Birth Day

7. I awoke to sunny skies. It just goes to prove (or surmise) that when you asketh of Lord Siva, Lord Siva grants - together we successfully thwarted a hurricane. (Sorry Louisiana, really.) Call me crazy, but I think the mystical Hindu God of Auspiciousness has really taken a liking to me. Regardless, if the ominous thunder clouds from Hurricane Rita stayed out of range then my birthday party could go on - no worries.

8. I started cleaning up my house in preparation for the birthday party.

9. Stephanie & Patrick took me out for birthday brunch. We went to Twin Sisters. I had the vegetarian quiche.

10. We returned to the Pinata Store to pick one out. I was really overwhelmed by all the choices. There were just so many loosely familiar, frilly, and hollow paper mache characters of different sizes as you can see from this photo -

Its a little grainy because it was taken with Patrick's all-in-one gadget that really doesn't serve masterfully at any one thing (phone, camera, wireless Internet) but is handy when you need it.

Picking out a pinata was a tough decision. Very few of the options looked like what they were supposed to be - so much for fine Mexican craftsmanship. I was also very adamant about not encouraging violence toward (representational) living things (such as people or animals). When I finally gave up this act of futility and picked out a hula girl, my friend Julie (calling me on her cellphone from the carousel in central park NYC to wish me an HB) scowled at the idea of battering the female figure. Ugh! So, I went with something I didn't think anyone would have an emotional attachment to...

11. We returned home and I played with my new and temporarily intact Spongebob Squarepants pinata.

I also acquired the appropriate "Official Pinata Stick" - Spongebob's soul would be destroyed in a matter of hours!

12. Having made good headway on the much-needed house cleaning, I went out into the world to run some errands. I needed some party supplies as well as pinata filler. Ironically, they didn't sell filler at the Pinata Store.

13. I also attempted to become a proud owner of a new iPod but Circuit City and Best Buy were swarming with people. I guess all their way-too-generous-moms had spoiled them too with birthday money to splurge with.

14. I returned home and cut a crack in Spongebob's ass to insert him full of sweetness and glee. Having completed the surgical procedure, I hung my pinata outside my front door. The poor thing dangling from the knob of a tree looked pretty bummed. After all, it was the gallows...

I suppose I was asking for it. Hanging up an object full of candy outside your home fully warrants the attention of neighborhood kids.

This is Caleb and Trevian - I was rather startled by our conversation which I will recount in this short play:

Travian: (running over) Ben! BEN! What is that?

Ben: Its SpongeBob. Doesn't it look like him?

Caleb: We don't watch that show. Its stoo-pid.

Ben: Yeah, I don't watch it either.

Travian: Is it full of candy?

Ben: (raising his eye-brow inquisitively) its filled with something...

Caleb: (demanding) Give us some candy!

Ben: Don't you mean, give us candy please?

Both: Please, Ben? Pretty please? OH Please! I'll be your best friend!

Ben inserts his fingers inside Spongebob's square pants and pulls out two blow pops and hands it to Caleb and Travian.

Caleb: Awww, I don't want a grape one! Gimme somefin else...

Ben: Beggars can't be choosers there bucko.

Caleb: (disappointed) Aw Man.

They ran off and I resumed some yard work but they quickly returned with bamboo sticks and they had that devilish look in their eyes as I hoped to have in a few hours.

Ben: Are you boys really going to make me bring the pinata inside?

Both: YES!!!!

15. The Pinata came back inside and I started on the make-your-own sixpack I compiled at Whole Foods.

16. I received many phone calls from friends that remembered (thanks guys) and then finished getting the house together.

17. I made Guacamole while Patrick surprised me with his investment in a few tiki-torches to provide light and citronella for the party. I arranged and lit tea-lights all around in preparation of my first guests. Exhibit A is my bedroom all festive:

18. My birthday party officially begins with the arrival of the first guests -

Ok, maybe Patrick and Stephanie don't count since they live across the yard. Brad arrived soon after bringing with him a multitude of delicious chocolate rum cakes. He really outdid himself and I think the cakes were definitely in competition for "yummy-est treat" against the guac. Then, to my surprise Nick appeared. Nick and I face eachother sitting at "Intern Island" at Lake/Flato. He told me he would be in Austin all weekend at ACL which was another event spared by Hurricane Rita. Perhaps Lord Siva is a Coldplay fan.

In a very short while (or at least the pictures make it seem) there were people filling up the yard. Here is Nick, Stephen who is husband to another fellow intern - Lindsey, and a circle of more Lakefladians in the back.

I'll take a quick moment to point out forlorn-looking Dave on the bottom right, because he gave me a framed kick-ass print he developed at the UTSA photo lab among other things. Everyone else is clearly having a good time.

John Paul and Alain - some chuckling Whole Earthers.

Jonathan, Cameron, Chris, his wife Karen, and Heather's back - all from Lake|Flato. Cameron was good enough to divulge the great secret of turning 26 - its the no pressure year. All the disappointment you create by not meeting the expectations of others when you turn 25 has surely warn off by your 26th birthday.

19. The Blush made me blush - I had quite an embarrassment throughout the evening when friends kept on showing up with bottles of wine. Not that I'm anti-vino or anything, but I haven't been drinking wine at home since I moved. This entirely stems from the fact that I own no wine glass. I apologize to anyone who came to my party and had to drink wine in a blue plastic cup. You classy folk deserve better!

This is staged stimulating banter between Heather and I. And more -

Heather, Jonathan, and Chris. Alright, maybe I divvied out my tavern glasses for the wine. But still.

Dave, Brad, and his girlfriend Vanessa - I usually label this kids "my pretentious artsy friends" and you must understand that's why I love them. C'mon, Brad's got the Andy Warhol glasses and everything! Supposedly they love me because I'm NOT pretentious. Boy, do I have them fooled...

Nick, Stephen, and Lindsey - interesting fact: S&L make homemade pickles, or at least they attempt to.

Here they are taking what was dubbed, "the sorority girl photo."

Jeremy (on the left) who I originally met at the Shambhala Center and now work with at L|F, talking with Johnny who is Patrick's swimming coach from high school. The dude on the right... yeah I have no idea who he is, but he doesn't appear to be having nearly as much fun as he should. I like that Jeremy really branched out and spent alot of time connecting to people. Later he said, "Life's too short to just hang out with people you know at parties. Hell, parties are too short."

Vanessa, looking unamused about being in the vicinity of Ivan, who is quite a character. And friendly! Also, a friend of Patrick.

20. I so enjoyed having one of San Antonio's most resounding local talents - my friend Jake with drummer - play in my living room. I really wish I had given them more attention but...

I was too busy sitting on top of Jake's wife, Marcy. It was really cute, I asked her why she didn't bring their beautiful daughter like they had at my last party, and Marcy said that she wanted to come so badly she cried! Apparently little Cleo had a wonderful time at the potluck.

Brian and Alison. And Mr. Square Pants. Brian got me the greatest present ever - an authentic circa mid-80's Mr. T coloring and activity book with stickers. Its amazing!

Wendy and Willie. Or maybe its Willie and Wendy. Also, Jake showing off his broken "G" string. Wendy is so good, always drinking the coke (while her evil twin sister (they're 18) always has beer.)

This was Alison and Marcy indicating that it was time...

21. I busted a pinata stick-shaped cap in that spongepant's ass!!!!

It was really convenient that some of my friends are Mexican to ensure an authentically good time.

Here is Jake's drummer explaining proper pinata hoisting protocol to Heather*.

"Wait! Can someone hold my beer?"

After the first strike, we gave up on protocol and they tossed it at me!

"Back off!"

Here is Heather* gathering some bounty.

* Jeremy's wife Heather is featured very prominently in the pinata photo montage. I think its funny since he had the camera.

Poor guy didn't even see it coming.

22. I journeyed into the house to collect another beer from my secret stash and just as I shut the door to the refrigerator, I heard the birthday song being sung! It was 3/4's of the way through before I bolted out the door and back outside to relish in the final verse. It was rather humorous. Uhhhh...who are we singing to?

Stephanie made me a funfetti cake. I hope that whole world peace wish comes true one of these days...

I like this picture because everyone is enjoying their pinata treats.

It was a great birthday, and the cops though hovering on the street nearby, never even gave us a hard time. At around 2, things began to wind down.

23. Stephanie and Patrick helped clean up. By 3 I had past out.

SUNDAY September 25th - My Post-Birthday

24. I awoke to the most blissful sounds I've ever heard. All the neighborhood kids had discovered the candy littered throughout the lot. It was such a joy to share in their excitement.

25. I went to work at my last day at WEPCo.

I was hungover.

(More to come on that...)

MONDAY September 26th - My Post Post-Birthday

26. I BOUGHT AN IPOD!!!!!!!! WHEEEEEE!

Everyone Loves a Good Potluck

A few weeks ago, I was at the store "working" (or slacking off in the break room momentarily - whatever you want to call it) with several of my co-workers. Dayna was going on and on about how she makes this fabulous pasta dish coming from an Italian family and all. Then Kim chimed in stating that she was an exquisite chef as well. April then suggested something brilliant...

"Gee guys, everyone is always talking about their special dish that they can make. We should all get together to share them at a potluck!"

"What a great idea April," I said. "That is just what we will do. You know I've been wanting to have everyone over for a good time (and to show off my house)."

The next day I posted a sign in the breakroom announcing this special event. Everyone was to bring a dish to share, a dish to eat off of, a date, and beer ofcourse. Sunday, August 7th 6pm-ish @ RAINBOW CARNAGE - which is what I've named my house.

Jake was even going to bring his guitar to rattle off a few Beatles tunes that he happens to be fond of (which, like me, is all of them.)

When the happy day finally arrived, I had much to do in preparation; including but not limited to: laundry, sweeping the whole house, hanging up photos that didn't sell from First Friday on a few of my bare walls, go get my new furniture in Patrick's new truck from Elizabeth & Robert who were moving to New Jersey <insert missing them here>, running over to Whole Foods and the regular super market for various things (I was especially frustrated to learn at 11:30am I was not allowed to purchase beer for another half hour - stupid bible belt states!), clean the bathroom thoroughly, move all the boxes and copious amounts scattered crap somewhere else, borrow the cooler from S&P, make beets salad, and make some cous cous.

All this was completed miraculously by just before 6ish when people would begin to arrive. Unfortunately, everyone was late, making me momentarily paranoid - thinking that I wasn't nearly as popular at work as I thought I was.

Ha! Such a scam! Im popular! I just have tardy friends. I actually received quite a turnout, and more importantly quite the smorgasbord, and more importantly quite the cooler full of beverages.

Here's a couple of before shots of RAINBOW CARNAGE -

This one of my dining room illustrates just how vastly desolate the table began the evening. This will soon change, you'll see.

Notice how well Avacado Paradise cleaned up. Nice right? I'm picturing a good futon and coffee table from Ikea in this space sometime soon.

And these are the chairs I inherited from Eliz and Robert. Thanks, guys! The first person to swing on by was Chris who made a splendid vegetarian bean skillet, though he eluded the camara. Rosie, her man fellow Jack, and April were next to arrive.

Rosie is the store manager at WEPCo, we've become good friends and she used my stovetop to make pasta fresh and heat up her home-made pasta sauce. She became smitten with my giant catfish body pillow (Vladimir) and fornicated inappropriately on my bed. SHAMEFUL! I don't think her man fellow Jack minded too much.

April baked delectable oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. They didn't hang around too long because they were pretty damn good. There she is ogling Rosie and Vladimir...

Patrick and Stephanie - the neighbors - brought over quite the feast: Swedish crackers and cheese (which they had bought at Ikea in Dallas earlier in the weekend), white sangria, and tomato-less tabouli. Yeah, they don't like tomatos. It's why they get along so well.

Oh boy! The table is filling up -

Everyone knows the key to any successful party is the (at least) two location rule. It was good that it was a breezy evening, cool enough to utilize the pseudo-yard we have to make for an additional location other than crowding around the giant table.

The rowdy crew - Jack, Jake, his wife Marcy (they brought pumpernickle bread, spinich dip, tomato-infused tabouli with lettuce for wraps, pepperochinis, a whole rotisserie chicken, and their beautiful daughter Cleo), and fellow-curly-long-haired-coworker Alain (who brought his charming sense of humor and maybe some beer.)

Alison made a spectacular pasta bean salad, and Brian was a hit with his margaritas - even though it wore him out beyond recognition.

Alison loading up a plate - and the table at the height of its outstanding glory!

Shavon steamed up some edimame, Rosie, Chris (I snagged one of him afterall, how 'bout that), and "Willie" (Lil' Kim) who coincidentally also baked oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

Meanwhile, outside everyone was having a good time too.

And from the opposite direction so their good time can be experienced from all angles.

And a blurry Brian and Alison, who finally stopped making margaritas.

Awww, Rosie and me. I always end up looking wasted when I do the self-taken shots of myself with others. I'll have to work on that. Or wait, perhaps I usually am a little drunk whenever I do that.

Cleo here with Vladimir, whom she played with all night. No lewd comments here about what they did, that would be wrong, you sickos! Its kinda weird, I was pondering this... I remember (in what seems the not too distant past) being her age and being dragged to some adult party by my parents where there was no one else my age to play with. And now, here I am hosting a party for my friends, and here one of them brings his child! Ofcourse, this was fine, if not delightful. My point is that it was strange being on the reciprical end of that. It just made me feel soooo grown-up all of a sudden.

Jake and the guitar (though disappointingly, he played it all too little) with April and Jack.

Alison playing with Cleo, and momma Marcy tickling her. Kids can never be tickled enough.

Cara and other Brian were late-comers, but brought spicy home made salsa to share. Here pictured with Jake and April.

Again - with better view of Cara, Brian's fiancee'. Other guests without having been properly photographed was Jaime who baked a stunning bunt cake, Kim who cheated and brought more spinich dip from Central Market, Yvonne and Wilton shared Lychees. Shavon invited two friends of hers, lets call them Steve and Glen. I think they just brought plenty of smiles.

It was quite an evening. People are still talking about it. The only problem was that I had SO MUCH leftover and coudn't eat any of it because my wisdom teeth were extracted not more then two days later. Shucks!