Sunday Funday!

Well, it started out that way, anyway. I got up early to catch the Italy v. New Zealand game at the local bar. Not that I really care about soccer, but somehow I drew Italy in the bar pool, and if they win the World Cup, I win $300. ITALIA, ITALIA, ITALIA!!!!

After the game, the bar emptied out, but as it got closer to the Brazil game, it filled back up a bit. There were a couple guys sitting near me for the first game that left and came back. When they came back, we started chatting, and I found out one of them plays kickball at the field close to my house. And they both live within stumbling distance to the bar. There weren’t any kickball games due to it being Father’s Day, but there was a party on the field, so we decided to check it out.

En route to the field, my phone died…and then really died….like done. Finished. Kaput. Of course with my luck, it had to happen BEFORE I called my father, but that’s just par for the course in my life. It was hotter than hot, so we stopped into the bar right by the field, where I’m pretty sure I consumed my weight in water. We eventually made it over to the field where a kiddy pool and a makeshift ‘Slip n’ Slide’ were set up. We chatted and laughed with their teammates and I said hello to a few friends….but after about an hour, I thought I was going to die. I walked back home and crashed.

I don’t know if it was the heat or something I ate, but I thought I was going to die. I slept fitfully until about 2 in the morning and couldn’t get myself back to sleep…too late for a sleeping pill, too early to think about going to work. So I stared at the ceiling and reflected. And then all of a sudden, it was time to go to work. I haven’t felt right since, and I’m hoping I will by tomorrow…..this is not a good time for me to be sick. To a better week!!

Life goes on....

I was tempted to not write about this particular event, mainly because I feel like it was an isolated incident and I don't want people to worry. It's over with and (almost) done, and changes to life will be made due to it, but all of said changes I think are a good thing. It's about taking care of myself and making sure that I'm ok, because if I'm not, then no one else around me can be. That whole "looking out for number one"? Not so much a bad thing.

I signed the lease to my apartment on a Monday, and promptly started moving things over. All week, in with loads of stuff and then out and back to the hotel. My plan was to clean it over the weekend and officially be out of the hotel on Sunday night (Monday at the latest). Saturday I went to Target and spent an obscene amount of money on things to turn this empty shell of a house into a home.

I stayed with a friend in Suburbia Saturday night (which I likely will post immediately after this), and headed back to the city Sunday morning. I stopped into the hotel to shower and grab a few more things. Headed back to the casa to meet some friends for a Sunday Funday on the porch. We drank some homebrews, laughed a lot, met some of the new neighbors. Good times. At some point we got hungry and went to the Mediterranean joint down the street. Delightful food, great wine (which we had to bring), and the acquisition of a hookah.

You can guess what happened next....more porch time with said hookah. Invited a couple neighbors over to partake, missed the beginning of the Twins game. Eventually we packed up and it was down to the two of us. We headed to the pub the other way down the street, parked at the bar and watched the Twins. Met a few people that were interested in a game or two of darts (which turned into one because, quite frankly, cocktails were involved).

At some point we stumbled back to my place. I put my pajamas on and as I went to turn out the lights, I noticed a man walking down the sidewalk. Then he turned like he was going to approach my house. I turned off the lights and turned around, thinking nothing of it. A minute or so later, I thought better of it, but when I went back to the front door, he was gone. All is well, I think. I turn again, and he's now walking down the driveway, which is fine, because there's an apartment in the back as well. He's probably just lost or drunk or whatever. So I head to bed.

Trying to fall asleep, I'm unable to. Something isn't right. I mentioned it to my friend when it happened, and he agreed. Just a drunk trying to find his way home. Nothing to worry about. But now, I'm worried. I lay in bed with my eyes wide open, knowing something is wrong, but unsure what to do. Well, in the span of about ten seconds it was clear. I heard an odd noise, almost a thud, but not quite. Then I hear another sound. This time I know exactly what it is. It's me screaming after hearing a window breaking. My friend chased after him for a minute as I'm on the phone with the cops. I'm unsure how I remember my own name, let alone the address.

Then we're on the porch, waiting for the cops to arrive. I can't even speak; my friend does all the speaking for me. "He took off on foot, that way", pointing down the street. The cops drive off, looking for him. Neighbors come home, ask what happened. Story re-told, another cop shows up. This one clearly looks like there are things he'd rather be doing, like watching paint dry while eating a Krispy Kreme. He takes my name, the story (again), my ID.

"That's him!!! That's the guy!!", my friend yells. He looks like he's the guy. He's definitely drunk. He's definitely short. He's definitely not speaking any English. He's cuffed and put in the car. All is well. Except for the broken window, of course. I don't have a drill, or boards or anything, really. So the landlord is called. He has all these things! And he's close! Window somewhat fixed. Me unable to sleep. I still had the hotel room, so we hopped in my friends car and stayed there. And I stayed in bed all day. And night.

Court is at the end of July, though I doubt I'll retain any of this by then. People tell me one of two things - buy a gun (almost typed guy there - though I suppose that would work too), or quit overreacting, it was just a drunk guy that couldn't find his house. I'm landing somewhere in the middle. Monday is my first lesson in the art of Krav Maga. Just try to break into my house again.

First weekend in the Big Sleaze...

And there was nothing sleazy about it. Friday after work, we were in need of cocktails, so my assistant and I headed to the local. We sat around chatting for a while when the douche from the previous evening waltzed in. Wearing a backwards hat. Sweet, sweet vindication. I love when I make good decisions.

A good friend of mine mentioned that he had another friend that just moved here. We had tried getting together the during the week, but couldn't connect. Anyhow, he said he'd meet us at the bar. In the meantime, another couple of guys had come into the bar, one of whom was also from Minnesota! Finally!! Backup for me!! I wasn't outnumbered by Saints fans!! The five of us laughed and drank and then departed. My assistant needed to get home, so C and I dropped her off. Then he decided he wanted to try his hand at being a "tour guide". So I capitulated and agreed to let him drag me down Bourbon Street. I had been there on a Wednesday, but that was nothing compared to a Friday night in the Quarter.

It's all really fuzzy, but suffice to say, we had some decent beers at the BeerHouse (I think that was the name of it), a Hurricane at Pat O'Briens (during which I NEEDED to call Andi and share the news with her, even though it was 1:30 in the morning and she was DYING to hear from me at this time), bought a "wish stick" at a voodoo shop, and then ended up a a blues bar. The last place was pretty cool. We were testing the theory of bars never closing around here, but only lasted until sometime after 4:30....what can I say, there were cocktails involved?! Suffice to say, I didn't really move out of my bed on Saturday. I ventured out for a bloody at Jean Lafitte's Old Absinthe House, and a gyro, and that was about it. Until 4 or so, when my assistant called again.

She was my tour guide for the afternoon/evening, and let's just say it was a MUCH different tour. We drove around in the Quarter, the Marigny, Mid-City, Bayou St. John and a couple other places. I showed her the house I was looking at and she agreed that it was adorable (more on that in a future post). It happens to be just a few blocks from THE Irish pub in NO - Finn McCool's. Irish as in, owned by Irish peeps right off the boat. A few pints of Guinness were had, and then it started...the whiskey drinking.

I do not generally drink whiskey. I do not generally do anything with whiskey except look at it with disdain. Or pour it out. I strongly dislike the flavor. In the last couple of years, I have been ok with drinking Jameson when it is the only thing in the house, or bar, or garage. I rarely enjoy it. However, when a "nice"* Irish guy that reminds you of Ireland buys Red Breast whiskey (which apparently is pretty good stuff), you drink it. And then you return the favor. And before you know it, you're extremely jealous of your sister, who happens to be a certified whiskey taster.

*in yet another future post, I will explain further the quotes surrounding the whiskey buyer.

Another friend had made an introduction to one of his friends, so I cleared with my assistant that it was cool for me to take off. Plus, I figured she was in good hands. So, off we went to Mick's for karaoke. Drinks were had, bad music was listened to, some good music was listened to and eventually I just needed to sleep....called a cab and made it safely to the confines of my bed, Sunday was pretty much a repeat of Saturday - minus the bloody. I did drink about three gallons of Gatorade though, and was still thirsty. Ordered a pizza for dinner, took a long, hot bath, and watched a ton of chick flicks. Of all the places to have a Sunday Funday, this is the place for it....I just wasn't having it yesterday. There will be many more opportunities, I'm sure.

Tonight will be another low key night. Hopefully picking up keys for my new apartment(!!!) and then watching the season (and series) finale of 24. Have a packed week of training at work, volunteering at work, and still figuring out exactly how I fit in around here. I'll get there. And then I hope all of you do too.

P.S. I WILL be at the Vikes/Saints game 9/9/10. It's official. My buddy bought two tickets and I have my name on the other one now. So, my offer still stands....I'm going to buy 4 tickets - first peeps to send me flight confirmations have first rights to purchase said tickets from me. I'll sell them for what I paid....though the one I'm going on is just south of $200. Do with that info what you wish!