What I’ve been up to – volume 3,409 This past weekend was a weird one.
Friday night was great fun. A friend of mine who is a wine writer/journalist type invited me to dinner with some other male-types to enjoy a plethora of Spanish red wines (Rioja & Ribera del Duro) at a fine Argentinean-esque place in mid-town.
The restaurant was in that odd little area of midtown on the west side where every restaurant does the pre-show special dinners – which means that the restaurant is crowded and then suddenly not crowded.
It was a fine time and we ate tons of meat and drank eight bottles of wine and felt fat and satisfied and were there for about five hours.
Then we went to MattyJ’s place at 2am to hang out with Sydney while her parents went to have a baby. We had a grand time because Syd is lovely and charming and likes to repeat things that I say in a much cuter way.
Can’t you tell just how much cuter her version was from my added exclamation marks?
HB Alec Alec, of international happyrobot fame, celebrated his 30th (gasp!) birthday on Saturday. I mention this because, apart from him being fun and energetic and a member of the happyrobot army, we also went to his 21st (gasp!) birthday party – so we had to celebrate this milestone.
Not to go on about the iPhones, but Saturday was all iPhoon planned. I sent a text to a friend for the name of the restaurant that she liked in Fort Green. And then found it on the map. And then found the bar that Alec’s party was at and did the little directions/route thing.
On the way home, we were lucky to grab a cab (remember that crazy rainstorm Saturday night?) and I used the map and faux-GPS feature to get us home as I get turned around in Fort Green/Clinton Hill if I am not paying attention (actually, who am I kidding – paying attention doesn’t help either).
I also showed Alec the video on YouseTubes of the song that was playing on the jukebox in the bar via my iFoams! Outrageous!
iFones I hearts my iPhones. Maybe I am just a late-adopter goof, but I think it’s the single greatest piece of consumer electronics I have ever owned.
Mrs. Robot will from time to time say something that I find hilariously odd or oddly hilarious that will make me automatically produce some sort of snarky comment.
For example, she will call a garden hose a “hose pipe”. Or a rocket ship a “space rocket”.
I’ll guffaw and exclaim, “space rocket?!”.
(in the distance, Sydney will exclaim, “space rocket!!!!!”)
The thing is this: invariably we’ll be watching some show on BBC-America (“Gordon Ramsey’s Top Gear” for instance) and they will say something like, “Now, take the hose pipe and hook it to the space rocket and have some veg”.
Mrs. Robot will turn to me and be all like, “HAH!” because we all know that if the English say it, then it’s legitimate.
This is my life.
Sunday was John Ball Junior’s third birthday party (he and I have the same birthday – but his party was a week late). Tons of kids were there, but he stayed in the bedroom playing on his sailboat (his parent’s bed with a set of curtains on it). The non-having children adults tried not to step on any children.