I�d like to start this entry off with a little shout-out to Larry Tate, Dr. Funk, what�s a rachem, JuliaMac, and Lamoshe who, along with a few pitchers of margaritas, made Sunday afternoon quite a relaxing and fun-filled one. Also, another thank you to Dr. Funk, without whom I wouldn�t have gotten out of the parking structure (the check is in the mail, my friend).
Drinking and conversing and lacking cash were not the only things that made the weekend an exciting place to be, however! You see, there were actually quite a few social events on the calendar, and it would be remiss of me not to tell you about them. For example, on Friday night, Dr. Goodhead and I had a birthday party to attend. We decided not to let the trifling issue of my not remembering exactly how to get there and her not having any sort of map-like device from which I might be able to decipher a possible route deter us from making a go of it, and off we went.
And went. And we went for about a half-hour, driving in ever-tightening concentric circles in a "Beverly Hills Adjacent" type neighborhood until, by some complete fluke of luck, we stumbled upon the actual street for which we were looking. Given that my sense of direction is so bad I routinely have to trip and fall just to figure out which way is "down", we felt like heroes for this accomplishment. In fact, we were congratulating each other on our courage in the face of adversity, and our ability to count and read street signs (and promising each other heaps of candy bars in the afterlife), when we noticed something amiss. I couldn�t quite put my finger on what was wrong, but it might have had something to do with the fact that the house at which the party was supposed to be taking place was completely dark and empty, and the front door was wide open and nobody was inside.
Dr. Goodhead and I exchanged rather bewildered looks, hers being all, "You totally have the wrong address," and mine being like, "This is the right address, and clearly there�s been an alien abduction, why can�t you see that?" And she asked me if I was sure I had the right address, and I told her I was sure I did, and she asked if I was sure I was sure, and I told her that, sure, I was sure, and she goes, "Okay, but are you really sure, because this place? Doesn�t look so much like a party." And I�m all, "I concede that point, on the grounds that, well, hello�but I�ve been here before, and I recognize the house, and I recognize that guy standing in the doorway in his underwear watching us, and holy crap!" And that�s when I realized that the host of the alleged party was standing in the doorway in his underwear, watching us.
So I�m all, "Isn�t�uh, well�isn�t there a birthday party?" And he goes, "Yeah�tomorrow." And then I felt really awkward, because what are you supposed to say in that situation? "Oh good, because we wanted to get a good hiding place for the surprise!" Not quite going to cut it. And that�s when Dr. Goodhead collapsed to the ground in a fit of hysterics, and I really had to join her, because frankly, it was pretty damn hilarious and also completely typical of me, I�m sad to say.
So instead, we hooked up with some other friends who were going to a different birthday party for some guy who apparently looks just like me. (I seriously got congratulated on my birthday by about five people, including one girl who punched me square in the boob and slurred, "THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!" like, what?)
I returned to the first party the next night (when it was actually happening, thank you) and everybody had a great big laugh at my expense. But it was a lot of fun, and I learned an important lesson about reading my invites veeeery carefully.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: nazi drinking songs I�m Watching: The Manchurian Candidate, and it was exactly what I expected. Today, I Won: A Starbucks gift card, for knowing more about this office than anybody else currently on the regular payroll. Hooray.