Bzzz.

Persistent buzzing has become a part of my life. My left ear is clogged (tmi?) and also my car keeps up with  this never ending squeak that, despite two recent trips to the mechanic, remains steadfast. My mechanic keeps looking at me askance and though it probably isn't intentional, he makes me feel like a dumb broad. My temporary solution for the car has been to crank up my Ipod while driving. Nothing like wishing a problem away. Also, I hate cars and driving and assorted other suburban trappings.

Though I'm a little loathe to admit it, I was pretty much drunk all weekend. Thank goodness alcohol consumption is both socially sanctioned and encouraged by advertising. If booze ever goes the way of cigarettes in terms of being pariah inducing, it might be time for me to take up knitting. And lest any stranger reading this think me an alcoholic, I also cleaned my apartment, did a little writing, and exercised. I believe that, combined, all of those things cancel out alcohol consumption. Maybe. I did the math but I was drunk so it may not all be correct.

In any case, more important than drinking was that I got to spend time with people. I usually dread the winter months because people disappear into the depths of their homes and really who can blame them? In the winter my inner social butterfly comes out but that could just be a case of wanting what I can't have. The moment people drop off the map for a few months, I need to see them desperately. What can I say? I have a Bullum Head.

Anyway, Friday night I had drinks and dinner with Marianne which was fun and reminded me why I am friends with her, not that I needed reminding. Throughout the night we kept tossing jokes back and forth drunkenly. We were quite successful at turning "one drink and maybe some dinner" into "stumble home at 1am". I had that experience of waking up at around 3am, realizing I was still drunk and processing the thought of sleeping until I was sober as the greatest idea anyone had ever had. Really, there should be a campaign promoting that.

Saturday I was invited along to tour the Brooklyn Brewery along with a group that was composed entirely of siblings. It was unseasonably warm for January and as I drove into the city Saturday afternoon (after sleeping half the day away), I noticed how just a tiny rise in the temperature seems to infuse everything with possibility. Or at least optimism. Clifford was picking us up at Lorraine and Andrew's apartment which was a pleasant surprise. I said I was optimistic, not "in the mood to take the subway for an hour". Thanks to traffic, we ended up missing the last tour but no matter; the tasting room at the brewery is fun, with good beer and lovely people. There was a high concentration of good looking people there. I attribute that to it being Brooklyn. Or warm outside. Or beer goggles. Also, the brewery has a house cat. It was loud in there so I think the woman I asked said his name was Hans. Adorable.
We stayed there until we got hungry and then wandered for a bit until we ended up at Brooklyn Bowl. There was a "cover charge" which is phrase I hadn't heard or participated in since around 1999. All we really wanted to do was eat but I was curious about what it looked like in there so we just decided to pay to get in to eat. Ah, the trappings of hipness. The food was Cajun-ish. I ate catfish. Catfish is one of those foods that, as a native Louisianan, I have both an affinity and an aversion towards. The aversion lies with knowing the nature of catflish. Go ahead, go read about them.
After dinner we went back to Astoria to a local place where the Saints were playing (nostalgia looms in my background, even when I'm fully invested in the present). We had a great time. Lots of inside jokes were born that night and really that is just my favorite thing ever.

Sunday morning we enjoyed my, oh let's say 15th favorite thing ever: bagels. Here's a statement you need to think about: cucumber and dill cream cheese. Just let that marinate for awhile. I drove home feeling sleepy, full and good. I pretty much had to clean the mess of my apartment and get ready for seven consecutive days of work. Marianne invited me over for some pizza and we watched Beginners which Marianne had checked out of the library for me approximately seven years ago and it finally became time to watch it. It was beautiful. Truly. I wanted to weep by the end of it. Perhaps more on that later. Then I got back home to watch Downton Abbey (another amazing thing to plop inside my head).

And now it is Tuesday and things roll along, gathering bits of lint and dust as they do. But nevermind that, it was a great weekend. How was yours?