Since You Been Gone

Before Josh and I headed over to the 500s show on Thursday, we decided to stop by the Flask Lounge. It's a former gay bar, reinvented as a hip new hangout, and they have a Wii! I popped a few bucks into the touch-screen jukebox, and gave Josh a few picks of his own. When it was my turn, I picked Kelly Clarkson "Since You Been Gone," which in case you don't know, is a pretty amazing song. Josh was able to only mildly ridicule me for this, seeing as though he'd never even heard the hit by the American Idol. It came on, I cheered, we finished our drinks, and headed over to the show.

I've never seen a 500s show that I didn't have complete, unadultered fun at. It's sort of impossible to not have fun when someone is singing songs about riding bikes and ice cream. Then, as if they knew somehow, the closed with none other than "Since You Been Gone." I punched Josh and jumped up and down like ten times while screaming the words at the top of my lungs. It couldn't have been awesomer.

Four Allagash Too Many

The other Tuesday night, I had a bit of a frustrating day at the office, and invited a coworker to go out with me for a beer. We shared a plate of mussells (where I pulled them from the shell!) and I enjoyed a nice cold Allagash. Then we talked about all kinds of office stuff, and decided that we'll see each other in hell for being so judgemental.

Anyway, so that was beer number one. I then met Heather at the Snug, where we talked about our weekend, etc. One thing led to another and I was on my second Snug beer, which was my third for the night, when Heather decided she shouldn't finish hers because she was feeling sick, so I downed the rest. In no time it was nine o'clock, and two more friends, Darcy and Nick, joined us when their movie got out. We ordered yet another round. I had no dinner, was four beers in, and feeling really, ah, giddy. We were having fun (so I'm told. I don't entirely remember.) Before Darcy and I went up for her second round and my fifth- I kind of wobbled over, I sent quite an inappropriate text message to an inappropriate person. When we sat back down, the bartender followed with my debit card. He closed my tab, cutting me off. It was a Tuesday night, and I got cut off. Granted, I'm a small person, and I had no dinner, but seriously, I felt bad about what I had done until I talked to the same coworker from before. She totally reassured me by saying something along the lines of, it's always a random Tuesday night that that happens. When you go out specifically to get drunk, it never seems to work out.

Unmentionable Places- Mentioned!

I went and had my *hmm-hum* looked at on Wednesday, and the good news is that I'm healthy as a horse. And in fact, either I had mistaken my weight, or I've somehow lost six pounds. Then I got to thinking about the reasons why I might have dropped some l-b-s, and it came to me: my boyfriend eats all of the food.

One Night at the Front Room

I had the weirdest night on Thursday. I left work at three to go see an apartment for my friend at four. It was a mere five blocks from my apartment, so imagine my joy when I walked up to my door to see my cat, an hour and a half earlier than normal!

Then imagine my horror when my keys were not at the bottom of my bag, but at the office, in my coworkers pocket, because I lent them to her. Josh was not going to be home for over an hour, so with few other options, I headed to the Front Room for happy hour.

It was pretty empty and quiet at first, with only a few other patrons at the bar. I talked to a man about how the day after St. Patrick's day should be the national holiday, so everyone could sleep off their hangover. Then a petite, well dressed black lady came and sat next to me. She introduced herself as Eman (or Iman?) and we began talking about all sorts of things, where she's lived, the Pretenders, jobs, non-profits, until I decided to ask her if she could think of anything that a group of 30 or so Bates graduates could work on for their day of service. But for some reason, I could not figure out how to properly phrase a group of Alumni. So I kind of stuttered a little bit until Eman said, What are they, black? And I smiled and said no, and she laughed at me because she saw that I was struggling and was just trying to help me out.

Rob, the bartender asks me if I want another beer and I say yes... Then I ask him if he thinks it would be possible to put Lost on if I stayed until 9. He went oh man, I wish! Wait, I don't wish, because then I wouldn't be able to see it! I tell him that I think they put Juliet on the show because she's got huge boobs, and none of the other women have huge boobs.

Then Bill, a lawyer/government official walked in. He knew Eman, so they started talking. The restaurant is getting louder by the moment. Bill is a man in his mid-fifties, I'd guess, with a military haircut, very white teeth, who was drinking Absolut in one glass and tonic in the other. I guess you get more alcohol that way? Since Eman abandoned me for someone more interesting and important, I called a friend, sent a few text messages, and then Andrea called and we talked briefly. During this time, Bill is making eye contact with me, which on one hand, freaks me out because I am a young lady at a bar, alone. On the other hand, I can't help but let it boost my ego a bit. More people that Eman knows come in and she talks with them, giving Bill the opportunity to come over.

He puts on is glasses and says that I have the most interesting phone, and asked me if I'd show him. Really, it's and LG White Chocolate and I got it free with my new-every-two thing. It looks cool, but it's just a crappy cell phone. Then he tells me that he hopes I'm not offended, but that I bear a striking resemblance to his mother when she was young. I am a little bit weirded out, but don't really mind. We talk about where he's from (Munjoy Hill) and I talk a little bit about where I'm from, tell him that I met Muhammad Ali, which I only tell people who I don't think will find me too interesting otherwise, it's like my high card. He's shocked and impressed. We get on the subject of coffee because I used to be a barista, and he tells me that he's got a very expensive espresso machine in his house- but it took him pounds and pounds of coffee to get it right! He asks me what my boyfriend does and I happen to mention that he went Brown, because he did, and Bill went to Brown too! Class of 83, graduated with JFK, Jr, who was even more handsome in person than in pictures. We talk about our humble beginnings, my art and finally Josh comes. It's 6:00 and I'm on my third beer. No food since lunch.

Josh walks in and the first thing he asks me is, aren't you supposed to meet Mandy (my face drops.) Josh and Bill start talking about Brown, then general Man stuff, and Mandy calls, I have her meet us at the Front Room. We were supposed to get together that night to give her a haircut. Surprisingly, after Bill paid for our beers and we all left, I convinced her that I could! Three beers in, although slightly functional, if I turned around too fast I'd loose my balance. Not exactly the state that I'd trust anyone to cut my hair. Mandy wanted me to take an inch off, I wanted to take four. I think I took about six, and she wasn't very happy (although her hair looks much healthier now.)

All in all, it was a quite a night. I never do that- but it felt good to be entertained by people I'd never met before. Here is a picture Mandy took the next day of her hair. You decide.

I Ain't No Baby Mama

Almost every young, sexually active woman I know is on some form of birth control (except for my teenage mom sister, but that's a completely different story.) I was having dinner with three such young women the other night, and somehow the conversation turned to birth control. Who's on what, who's tried what- it sort of felt like we were one of those informational articles you read in Glamour or Cosmo every six months. One of my friends, who would possibly actually kill me if I revealed her connection to this story, told us this, about the first time she went on the Pill...

I wasn't on the Pill for very long before I switched to the Nuva Ring. It was too many hormones, it totally messed me up. I'd take my pill, then for the next hour, I would be unbelievably horny. So horny, that I'd want to jump every man I saw! And you guys know that's very unlike me. I'd actually have to go to the back room and take a few deep breaths to calm myself down. Then, I'd get really, really nauseous. Like, doubled over. That pill messed with me, man.

My Doppleganger

I think I have a Doppelganger. Or, at least, there is someone walking around Portland who looks like me. A lot like me.

Josh and I were at Rosie's the other night. It's sort of our go-to neighborhood bar/burger place of choice. The woman who was waiting on us, presumably Rosie herself, came over and asked me if I wanted a Woodchuck. I politely declined, and instead ordered a Hooker Brown. There might have been once last fall that I ordered a Woodchuck, maybe. Figuring it was just a mistake, since we are frequent enough customers she MIGHT THINK she knew what my order was, I let it go. Until she came back for our food order and asked me if I was going to have the buffalo chicken fingers with ranch dressing. I sincerely hate ranch. She had be mixed up with someone else.

Then, two nights ago, I was at Shay's, and the same thing happened. The waitress asked me if I wanted a Malibu. I looked at her like, what the heck is a Malibu and why would I want it? And she quickly realized her mistake and said she mistook me for someone else who looked exactly like me.

My coworker was also out the other night and came back to work Monday morning and said, "I saw this girl in the Old Port who looked exactly like Amanda! She had the same purple tights and everything! But then I looked a little bit closer and realized she WASN'T Amanda." Which was correct, because Josh and I were at Norm's that night, where I was covering my face with buffalo wings.

So, I don't know what all of this means, other than sometime, I might be out, and see someone who looks exactly like me. Which might be weird. Although I think it might be weirder when you see someone wearing the same jacket or with the same coat... because that's obvious. On more than one occasion people have told me that I bear some resemblance to Larry David' wife on Curb Your Enthusiasm, but at least I'll never have to run into her at the Downtown Lounge.

See also the Andrew WK song, "I Want Your Face."

Fantasy Baseball

So, there have been some exciting changes in my life in the last seven days, although I've only mentioned one.

I joined a fantasy baseball league. No joking. My friend Maggie invited me to join, and all I could think was, why not? Since then, I've been thinking a lot about building my team. Which players I want (the good, likable ones), like that pitcher on the Cleveland Indians who completely held it together in a game against the Yankees last year- the field was inexplicably swarmed with these bugs- and the bugs were all up in the pitcher's business. But this guy stayed completely composed the whole time. There were these little bugs on his face and he threw strikes. And the ones I don't want (The Yankees), even if A-Rod is the number one draft pick in fantasy baseball. So, this should be pretty entertaining. I was explaining who my short stop choice was to a man I'd never met at a mutual friend's party on Friday, to which he told a friend via text message, who offered me a date if I was ever in LA (no, not Lewiston/Auburn.) I'm excited for my draft pick!

The other piece of really good news is that my job now offers a dental plan! Yay! Goodbye, cavities. The even better news, the man who took over my childhood dentist's practice, his son, moved the practice to Portland!

My New Baby

I adopted a cat on Friday. She's pretty much totally awesome, very curious, really likes to rub up against my legs, and even fell asleep on my lap! It's only been two days! We're calling her Baby, (Dirty Dancing... "Nobody puts Baby in a corner!") At the Animal Refuge League, I had to fill out a survey about the qualities I am looking for in a cat. The last line was a fill in the blank. It said: The most important thing is that my cat ______. I said, loves me. And I think she does!