My New Toy!!

No, it's not the kind you think, you dirty bird. I’m typing away on my brand spanking new laptop. I heart Apple. I’m an Apple whore. First they announce the iPhone 4, and then this comes. As soon as they release the second generation iPad, you can bet your sweet ass I’ll be buying that too. I’ve become a serious technology geek since I bought the iPhone 3G. I can hardly wait the mere two weeks till the new one comes out.

Another weekend in the Big Easy is under my belt. Friday was not supposed to be anything special, just a quick happy hour with a couple colleagues. We left at our apprised time, and went on our way. My car was still at the hotel and when I walked by, a couple of our chefs were outside. I started talking to the one I knew, and then my phone rang. I was going to ignore, as I assumed it was the next friend I was meeting up with, but I didn’t. It was my assistant. Her car had disappeared. After a few minutes of trying to figure out what happened, I took her to the impound lot.

Which was closed.

So, we drove back downtown to some office building where we were told that someone would be back in 20 minutes and she’d have to fill out some paperwork, pay a fine and then they’d give her a ride to her car. 45 minutes and $165 later, she had her car back. Is that cheaper than Minneapolis? I don’t remember what mine cost to get out of hock the two times it happened. Anyhow, we went back to my local bar, Finn McCool’s where we met up with a mutual friend.

I swear I try so hard to keep my life drama free. Apparently the universe has some issue with me. I LOVE attention don’t get me wrong. But I like to be the one to draw it to myself. I don’t like it when I want to be left alone. Which was all I wanted to do. Have a couple drinks with some friends and have a low-key night.

Now, on my first trip to this bar, my assistant claims that she was roofied and that it was meant for me. I have no doubt that she was roofied, and I believe her when she says it was likely meant for me. She’s married, and quite obvious about it. Typically I wouldn’t go back to a bar where I got roofied, but this one is right down the street, it’s Irish, and I’ll try almost anything twice. So back we went.

And I witnessed my first bar fight in NOLA. What is it with guys!? Grr. That’s it, I’m going home.

Saturday I woke up super early and found a local breakfast spot. If my stupid camera on the phone worked, I would have taken photos of the best pancakes I’ve ever had. Hell’s Kitchen lemon ricotta deliciousness on a plate can’t hold a candle to the magnificence that was the bread pudding pancakes. With a whiskey cream sauce. And bacon. Mmmmm. Salty magnificent bacon. Makes everything better.

I digress. After breakfast I lounged for a bit, napped, lounged, napped. Watched a car accident unfold (see?!? I'm a magnet!). Lazy, hot, perfect. My assistant came over at some point. Found a cute little Mexican joint, another Irish pub, called it a night.

Sunday was kickball day. Haddad picked me up and we hit up the fields. Sadly I missed the start of this league by a couple weeks, but I’m a shoe-in for fall league. There was a bar on the field. ON THE FIELD. If this doesn’t have my name written all over it, I don’t know what does. Until the games actually started. I’m all about trash talking, but when you’re talking about a kid’s playground game, there’s really no need to get all Yelly McYellerson. It’s a freaking game for crying out loud.

When I witnessed the second bar fight in three days, I contemplated just watching fall league. Seriously….what is it with boys and booze and competition?! Ugh. Anyway, went out for a while afterwards and was home in bed my 9. Now that’s a Sunday Funday I can get on board with.