Where to start?
Yesterday was the big Ravens Vs. Colts game. Not that I really care about football, I just mention it because it became a large part of my day. In the early afternoon, I went to a baby shower for the daughter in law of a friend. I know the friend well, I barely know the daughter in law. The relationship between the two of them is best described as tense. Given that, I still had fun. I won a few games (I beat out 8 other woman in draining 2 ounces from a baby bottle… I guess I suck!) and tried to keep my friend in the buffer zone by being the “friendly one” of our little group. (The concept being that if you are already on the outs with your in laws, why give them more fuel for their feud by being dark, brooding and making loud commentary about what annoys you- even if you have good reason to be annoyed) So, I tried to make light of many of the barbs and smiled a lot. My friend is a big football fan and wanted to be home in time for the big game, so as the baby shower continued to creep closer to 4:30, my group got more and more agitated and wanted to leave. (I guess now would be the place to mention my friends son had basically ordered my friend to stay for the whole shower before he left, no matter what. And can I just slip in here that he made it a point to make his intense displeasure known that my friend had worn her Ravens shirt to the party?) Needless to say, I was a bit rundown from all this pass interference I had been running all afternoon, so when I was being dropped off at my door and saw that my husband (who had told me earlier that I didn’t need keys) was not home and that I was locked out of my house, I was not happy. So, I gathered my loot and sat on the porch until he came home.
By this time the Big Game had been going for awhile and it didn’t seem as though the Ravens were doing so well. The big fear my husband had planted in my mind earlier in the week was that if the Ravens lost this game, Baltimore would be a town over run with madness and mayhem and angry fans. I guess it’s not out of the realm of possibility, but I didn’t think it would happen. Nevertheless, I didn’t want my evening plans (or the people I was going out with) jeopardized by FAN-atics. I was supposed to go downtown with Jenny and Dave for dinner and the comedy club but because of the impending doom of the Ravens, we decided to stay around here and then check on the news after the game ended to see if we could make the late show at the comedy club. We decided on Chinese for dinner and went to a local restaurant where we had a lovely dinner and Jenny opened her gift. ( 1 hot tub, 1 laser vision correction kit, 1 pony named Faux, some lo carb food that tasted good and 80 Maryland quarters with a chance to make them a bazillion, all wrapped up with a balloon tied to it.) The biggest stipulation for the evening was that she keep her balloon with her for the rest of the night! After dinner we returned to my house to catch any news on the downtown conditions and caught a few minutes of NCSI, in which their murder victim was a stripper who was cooking on a searchlight. They had her complete with smoke and a sizzling sound. For some reason, this was hilarious to Jenny and I – could it have been the drink we had at dinner?- and for the rest of the night we cracked jokes about it.
Seeing no murder and mayhem in Baltimore, we decided we would try to go to the late show at the comedy club. Jenny had some All You Can Drink coupons she wanted to use. We got to the club with no problems and it was pretty neat to see the town all decked out in their purple lights. It was almost leery. After waiting in line for a few minutes we were ushered to the FRONT ROW CENTER of the club. Now a huge fear of mine is to be front row center of anything that might generate attention on me by large groups of people, so front row center at a comedy club starts to make me feel hotter than a stripper on a searchlight. (szzzzz) We take our seats, place our orders and Jenny decided that she’d like her balloon tied onto her wrist so that she doesn’t obstruct anyone else’s view. Happy to oblige I helped her tie one on… in more ways than one.
The comedians were pretty good and one made fun of Jenny’s balloon saying that the “special kids” would get one. But he followed that up by asking her if she felt that the guy sitting next to her was her soul-mate (oops! it was her brother). Having that backfire, he asked if she would be number 51 in his harem of wimmenz assuming her brother would let her…. to which Dave motioned that he was welcome to her!! Once the show was over, we came to the realization that since I had tied the balloon to her wrist, there was no way for Jenny to put on her coat, but no matter, it was January in Maryland, so it was balmy and warm out. (hasn’t the weather been NUTS?) We walked back to the car and rode the garage-go-round (Frank thought the exit was at the top of 10 floors… how silly of him) and then started home. Jenny and I were more than a bit tipsy and Jenny was making commentary about all the things she couldn’t do since she had a balloon tied to her wrist, emphasizing each word with a jerky motion of the balloon. Just as she uttered the words, ” Because I have this stupid balloon tied around my wrist!”, the balloon came free of its ribbon and floated forward to bounce next to Dave in the front seat of the car. It was classic. Jenny and I just couldn’t stop laughing.
Two completely different kinds of celebration and quite a long day, but in the end, I think a good time was had by all. (except maybe for the sizzilin’ stripper! szzzzzz)