Did the usual thang with Mark and we tried a new Chinese place. After many years of being loyal patrons of China Bell, we finally admitted to ourselves that The Bell had gone south and my tasty vegetable dish was basically just grease-flavored. So, we gave Hunan Express a try. It’s a bizarre little place next to Sam Ash in Rivergate and, like every carry out Chinese restaurant on Earth, looks like you should expect food poisoning after you eat there. Why do Chinese carry-out places always have to be so sketchy-looking? It’s unsettling. Anyway, Hunan Express is owned by this dude and his wife (or some woman that I assume is his wife) and he talks into a little microphone to give her the orders, even though she’s only 7 feet away. “What’s in the Vegetarian Delight?” “NO MEAT!” Yeah. It was good, though. The only thing I would have changed was that there was a little too much whatever sauce poured over my rice.
Got up and did all of the dishes that had been languishing all over my kitchen, then went in to work to make a whole lotta text boxes for Giant Digital Magazine, which is just about finished. After that, I met Nat, Pearl, Lisa, and Shannon at Battered & Fried for an EIGHT-dollar sushi roll. It was good, but damn. I’m only going back there if someone else is paying…and I’m willing to repay the meal with sexual favors.
After Battered & Fried, Nat, Pearl and I went over to Red Door Midtown to meet kick-ass pilot gal Erin. The place was overrun with Vandy types who had apparently been drinking all day at steeplechase (steeplechase? hi, could you be little whiter?) so I was out of there by 10:30. I did, however, manage to finally consume an entire alcoholic beverage (amaretto sour) in a bar before closing on my house. OK, so it took me until age 30. Don’t judge.
Oh! I almost forgot: I finally got the dead microwave out of my kitchen. It had been sitting on the floor for two years (don’t judge me) because I recall only being able to lift it long enough to et it from the counter to the floor when I replaced it. When my well-meaning parents bought it for me, they got the most powerful (read: big) microwave they could find. You know, in case I felt like cooking a turkey or something. Over the years, I just stopped seeing it there… Anyway, my weight regime must be working because I carried that bitch out to the car without having to stop and rest or anything. My plan was to just drive around with it in my car until I had a boy with me who would help me throw it into a dumpster somewhere, but the lady at U-Haul (I was buying some super-large boxes) was like “I’ll put that in our trash if you want.” Sweet! Thanks, lady!
Got up and ran out to the car to get the extra-large boxes which, in Sunday’s strong winds, acted as a sort of kite that damn near lifted me off the ground. I packed all 4 of them, packing up almost everything in the kitchen and work room, except for some pots that I forgot about and some books of sheet music. I try to distribute the books over several boxes so I’m not totally screwed when I have to move those things around the house, and sheet music books are huge. This thought process did not, however, stop me from packing a 2-inch stack of black display boards into one box…I’m gonna have to tip the movers extra for that shit.
Since goth night was at Decades again this week, Jen and I decided to just hang out at Red Door East instead. I sprung for a Blue Valium…and then Jen surprised me with a second one. This, readers, is easily the most booze I’ve ever had in one sitting, as Red Door follows the rum/curacao/tequila/vodka recipe, as opposed to the blue mix/lemonade/vodka one. “Dude, he filled that thing up to HERE with liquor!” (Jen points about 1.5 inches below the rim of the glass.) “Yeah, but that’s mostly ice.”
At best, I was mildly tipsy, but I was really just so drowsy that my head felt like it was full of water. “That’s cause you didn’t drink them fast enough,” says Jen. A couple hours and a half Vivarin later, I was all good, except that my right contact had fallen out, making for an interesting drive home. “No, officer! I’m sober! I’m just blind in one eye!”