The Sonia Show

Writer. Podcaster. Beer drinker. Old movie watcher. Mother. Goober.

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Weekend Getaway: Portland

Yeah, so, we went to Portland.

My mighty, mighty good man David had to go to Portland for work, so I flew up on Friday to meet him for a little weekend away. I left Calvin in the car in the parking lot at the airport. Don’t worry, I left the window cracked. I’m not a monster.

I kid. He stayed with my mom and had the best time ever. Grandma is his best friend.

So, yeah, I flew up to Portland, and I’m almost embarrassed to admit this, but it was my first-time ever flying on a plane by myself. Also, I’m 46. I know, I know. It’s pretty ridiculous.

Look, Mom! I’m going to fly on the plane like a big girl.

I downloaded the new “Mystery Science Theater 3000” on my Kindle, and it turns out it was the perfect length for the flight. It ended right as we were landing. I was completely entertained and distracted the entire time.

We had an awesome time in Portland. It’s a great city. There was a ton of tasty beer and everywhere I went there was a variety of vegan options. And not just the “I guess I’ll get the fries and the salad” variety, but full-on vegan options. Even a divey bar would have nachos with a vegan cheese option. Heaven!

Our friend Caitlin showed us around on Friday, and we went to a vegetarian restaurant Harlow, where I discovered jalapeno cashew cheese that I will absolutely be trying to make myself. We also went to Breakside Brewery, where I had a couple of really good IPAs, Rainbows & Unicorns IPA and Lunch Break ISA. I also bought this rad hat, which David is modeling in this photo.

We also had dinner at a vegan restaurant, Blossoming Lotus, because David and Caitlin are nice people. I got the chickpea chana masala curry, because curry is one of my faves, and it was delicious. We ended the night with drinks at Horse Brass Pub with David’s friends Collin and Siri.

On Saturday, we went to Blue Star Donuts. Voodoo Doughnuts is super famous, but we were told repeatedly that Blue Star Donuts is a local favorite. We were not disappointed. David got the creme brulee donut, and I got a vegan blueberry one. Yummers!

After that, we went to 10 Barrel Brewing, and I had the milk stout, which was pretty darn good.

We had evening drinks with our friend Kirk and his girlfriend Emily at the White Owl Social Club, which is such an awesome place we didn’t really want to leave for our dinner reservations. But we’re so glad we did, because we had an amazing dinner at La Moule. As you can tell by the name, mussels are kinda their thing, so I decided to be a bad, BAD vegan for a meal and get the Korean mussels, which had miso, ginger, kimchi, garlic and sesame oil. It was good stuff. Honestly, I could have just eaten a loaf of crusty bread and dripped into the broth.

I can see why so many San Franciscans have moved to Portland. It’s very San Francisco-ish, except cleaner. Maybe that’s because of the rain?

We had such a good time. Big thanks to Caitlin for giving up her Friday to show us around, Collin and Siri for meeting us at Horse Brass, and Kirk and Emily for introducing us to the White Owl. Thanks, you guys!




Viva Las Vegas

Yeah, so, last year when I was doing chemo, I kept dreaming about a vacation. Not a big vacation. Just a little getaway. I could lounge by a pool, read magazines and sip a cool drink. Maybe I could get a massage, doing a little shopping. Fun stuff. It was my happy place that I would go to when things felt shitty.

Well, it’s finally happening! We’re leaving for Vegas on today.


My mighty, mighty good man David is traveling to Las Vegas for a work event, and I’m tagging along. He will have to work during the day, but our evenings will be open for some fun. During the day, I can relax. I’m so excited. We’re going to leave Calvin at home. He’s 5 now. I’m sure he can handle it. We will fill up the water bowls and leave out a couple of dishes with a lot of food – enough for five days. I kid. We’re going to drop Calvin and Toby off with my mom on Sunday, and we got a neighbor to watch the cat.

I haven’t been to Vegas in a really long time. The last time I went I think it was 2002. I won a “free cruise” at The Examiner holiday party. The “free cruise” was actually a $500 travel voucher, which I used to buy a two-night stay at Caesar’s Palace, which included two tickets to Elton John. It’s OK to be jealous. I was working at The Examiner, so I was super poor. I’m looking forward to going back as an adult with some spending cash (not that much, but more than the like $40 I gave myself to gamble with in 2002).

I also went to Vegas in 2000 or 2001 as part of a bachelorette party. I have two stories about that trip.

Story #1: We went to the Ghost Bar in the then-very cool Palms Hotel. We got in because we had a friend who worked for the hotel. The bar was filled with the beautiful people. I hated it there. I went up to the bar to order a drink, and the most gorgeous man tried to chat me up. I looked around the hidden cameras, because I was sure it was a joke. I even told him that before I practically ran away with my drink. Confidence: I didn’t have it.

Which leads to Story #2: We all felt uncomfortable at that bar. So we went to the Star Trek Experience at the Hilton (which I believe no longer exists and that’s just fuckin’ wrong!). There was a Star Trek-themed bar, and it was THE BEST. We had the best time. We were with our people.

I went to Vegas another time before that in maybe 1998 or 1999 with a bunch of dudes. There were two other girls on that trip: A girlfriend of one of my guy friends, and her friend. They graciously shared a room with me, because I was a lowly reporter for the Martinez News-Gazette and made (no joke) $213 a week. One night, the ladies said they were going to see the Cirque du Soleil show, O.

Me: “How much are the tickets?”
Them: “$100.”
Me: “What are you doing, guys?”
Them: “We’re going to a strip club. You can probably get in for free and drink for free.”
Me: “Looks like I’m going to the strip club.”

It was awkward. All the strippers wanted to dance for me. Probably because I’m not some gross dude that wants to grab them by the pussy. At one point I went to the restroom, but the restroom was also the strippers’ dressing room. They were in there getting dressed (or undressed) and doing cocaine. I said howdy to them and used the toilet. After I washed my hands, and one of them offer me a line.

“No, thank you,” I replied.

Stripper: “Would you like to use our lotion?”
Me: “Sure. Thank you very much.”

It was the sweetest smelling body lotion, and I think it had glitter in it. I went back to the guys and let them know that I smelled like a stripper.

So anyway, I know a lot of folks think Vegas is gross, but I think it’s going to be just what I need. I’ve been so depressed and angry about the election results. I think it will be really nice to unplug for five days and just relax. I’ll be sharing some photos, but I’m really going to try to stay off the social media channels. Don’t worry, though. I’ll come back relaxed and ready to fight the power or rage against the machine, or whatever.

In the meantime, I suggest you listen to the latest episode of “Dorking Out.” We share our top movie picks for the rest of the year in our Winter Movie Preview. We review “Arrival,” which I SUPER LOVE. And we even answer some listeners’ questions. Then we end the podcast with a really good discussion about the election. We talk about why it’s difficult to talk about politics and how we are all struggling with listening to each other. The discussion really helped me, and I think it might help other people, too. You should liste.

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What a sexy baby

Yeah, so, we totally crashed my mom’s vacation to Hawaii.

It’s true. We were only able to go to Hawaii, because my mom planned a three-week trip with her mother, one of her sisters and some long-time family friends. But she learned about two months ago that her sister and some of the friends were not going to stay for the third week, which left a spot open for David, the Spawn and myself.

So, we stayed in a timeshare on the Big Island, all thanks to the kindness of our long-time family friend Jeanne. So, big thanks to Jeanne for letting us stay with them. Not only did all these ladies allow us to stay with them, they gave us the master bedroom with a private bathroom. I know, right? They are nice ladies.

But I’m going to tell a funny story about my mom anyway.

So, the morning after our first night in Hawaii, David and I wandered downstairs with The Boy. We pour ourselves some coffee, while Calvin plays on the floor.

Mom: “We heard some bumping around up there last night.”

Me: “That wasn’t us. Maybe next door?”

Mom: “Oh, we thought you were having loud monkey sex up there.”

Me: “Umm, eww, mom. Because nothing puts me in the mood like sharing a room with my baby.”

Mom [picks up Calvin and kisses him]: “Did you hear that Calvin? They don’t think you’re sexy.”

The sexy baby and his grandma.

And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for: random vacation photos!

High five at Kona Brewing Company.

Laid back.


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Wait, I went snorkeling?

Yeah, so, mighty, mighty good man David is always talking me into doing things I never thought I’d do.

First, I had his baby. And now, I went snorkeling in Hawaii.

I have never been snorkeling in my life. I’ve never even worn those goggles in the swimming pool. Also, I get seasick, so getting on a boat in the ocean isn’t my idea of a good time. Actually, I love being on boats, but I pay for it with vomiting.

While we were in Hawaii last week, David suggested we go snorkeling. Wait, no just snorkeling: sunset snorkeling. And not just sunset snorkeling … swimming with manta rays.He suggested it, and I cringed.

“No?” He said.
“They are wild creatures. They will totally bite us,” I said.
“No, no. Manta rays are gentle,” he said.

After a few minutes, I agreed to do it. I beat cancer. I can work up the courage to swim with the manta rays.

David found a terrific company, Big Island Divers, who offered a pretty decent deal. For about $100 each, they take you out on a boat to an area along the island at sunset that is positively packed with fish. You snorkel for about an hour. Then you get back in the boat, have a sandwich, watch the sunset, and after sunset you get back in the water to swim with the manta rays.

Sounds easy enough, right? We squeezed into our wetsuits, which David immediately pointed out made us look like “Tron.”

David and I get ready to go snorkeling.

On our boat, there were five scuba divers and five snorkelers. After the divers got in the water, we lowly snorkelers were able to get it.

You guys, snorkeling is really cool. Once you get used to the idea that you can breathe underwater, it’s so amazing to see all the fish and sea creatures. It’s like watching Animal Planet and swimming.

But then the seasickness started to kick in. I took Dramamine the night before and an hour before getting on the boat. And I know what you are thinking: “You got seasick while you were in the water, you pussy?” When you are snorkeling you are on top of the water. You are moving up and down with the waves, which can make you sick. Don’t judge me.

After I got back into the boat, I really started to feel sick. The crew was so kind: giving me ginger ale and ginger chews. The scuba divers got back into the boat, and they told me that they saw a little white tail shark.

“How scary,” I said.
“Oh no. It was really cool,” one of them said.
“It’s a shark. It will totally bite you,” I replied, because not only am I someone who will get seasick by snorkeling and I am a buzz kill. “I’ve seen Shark Week.”

Everyone was laughing and having a good time, and I was doing everything I could not to throw up on everyone.

After a glorious sunset, I somehow worked up the wellness to get back into the water. I wasn’t going to miss the manta rays, and more importantly, I wasn’t going to let David down. He wanted us to do this together, and I was going to do it, dammit.

After sunset, five or six more boats showed up, all of them different diving companies. All of the scuba divers went to the bottom of the ocean with lights. All of us snorkelers held on to some big square with huge light in the middle pointing down, and slammed our faces in the water to see the show below us. With all the lights in the water, it looks like something out of “The Abyss.”

Then the manta rays came swimming into the area. Apparently, they come to this same spot every night to eat plankton.

Manta rays eat plankton, not Plankton.

The manta rays were awesome! Awe. Some. It was pretty damn cool to be so close to them. I wish I had an underwater camera so I could share a photo with you. There was someone on site filming it, but I don’t think we’re going to pay for the video. HOWEVER, one of the crew, a gentleman named Flipper, filmed some great footage earlier this year.

There were 35 rays that night. I believe there were 15 the night we went out.

So anyway, it was really amazing, but sadly I only lasted for about 30 minutes of the hour-long swim. I started to feel really sick. I just knew if I threw up I would ruin the whole thing for everyone. Manta rays want to eat plankton, not my puke. A fellow snorkeler said she was too cold and swimming back to the boat, so I tagged along with her. I was bummed to leave the rays, but glad that someone else was swimming back to the boat, too.

When we got to the boat, the captain tried to make me feel better, giving me more ginger ale and plenty of towels.

“Does this happen a lot? Do you get a lot of people who get seasick?” I asked.
“No,” he replied.
“Ha! You couldn’t just lie to me? I guess folks who get seasick don’t sign up for this activity,” I said.
“Yep,” he replied.
“Lesson learned, sir.”

Actually, being seasick was totally worth it. It was an awesome experience that I will never forget, and I would sign up to do it again. Maybe I would stick to one dive next time. Super big thank you to David for once again talking me into something amazing.


It’s the sunset, stupid

Yeah, so, one of our favorite places we visited in Hawaii was the Lava Lava Beach Club.

It’s a really cool restaurant that is right on the beach. And when I say “right on the beach,” I mean right on the beach. There are tables that are set back a little bit from the beach, and then there are tables on the beach. It has tasty food and drinks, and it wasn’t too pricey. Also, they are kid friendly. Beach views, food, booze and kid friendly = we went there three nights.

We went to Lava Lava Beach Club our first night in Hawaii. We got there about 5:30 p.m. We ordered some drinks. I loved the hibiscus mai tai. I ordered those a lot.

There was a lot of hustle and bustle, but at around 6:30 p.m. everything got super quiet. Everything just stopped, and people were staring out toward the ocean.

I started looking around, confused: “Why is it so quiet? What’s wrong? Oh my god, is someone drowning in the ocean?”

Then the waiter walked by me, “It’s the sunset.”

Everyone had stopped everything they were doing to watch the sunset, and I’m such a jackass I almost missed it. This happened every night we were in Hawaii. Everything stopped around 6:30, and everyone watched the sunset.

Sunset views from Lava Lava.

Another sunset at Lava Lava.

Lava Lava is a little touristy, but we loved it there. We did check out a few places, however, that were a little more authentic.

We loved, loved, LOVED Da Poke Shack in Kailua-Kona. Super fresh fish, meaning we saw them carry the fish in right off the boat. I will be always craving this place. I couldn’t get over the price, either. It was $9.50 for a lot of fish, served with rice and spicy crab salad. I imagine if they put that portion on a nice white plate they could charge $20 for it, especially in San Francisco.

This only cost $9.50! Seriously. Amazing.

We also loved a little hole in the wall place called Super Jay’s, which serves lau lau (pork wrapped in taro leaves and steamed). So good! Mighty, mighty good man David ordered a second plate when we stopped there for lunch.

And, this should surprise no one, but we visited a couple of breweries on the Big Island. The first one we visited was Kona Brewing Company, which is basically the Pyramid Brewing of Hawaii. The beer was perfectly fine, but we weren’t dying to drink more of it. Also, you can get Kona beer here. Oh, and I had a pulled pork sandwich at their restaurant that sat in my stomach like a brick for a day.

Sadly, you cannot get Big Island Brewhaus beer here, which is a damn, damn, DAMN shame. They make a delicious porter, the White Mountain Porter. Love. Oh, and their food is delicious. I had the fish burrito. Tasty stuff! We were super bummed that we only got to go to Big Island Brewhaus one time. If you go to Hawaii, I highly recommend it.

Mmmm, Big Island Brewhaus beer.

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Snapping turtles

Yeah, so, mighty, mighty good man David and I visited the Punalu’u Black Sand Beach while we were on our way back from seeing a volcano in Hawaii.

I know, right? A volcano.

On the beach were a couple of sea turtles. Apparently, the sea turtles like to hang out in the sun and take naps on this beach where they are surrounded by tourists taking photos of them like they are Katy Perry or some other singer that has big tits and no talent. The turtles are really cute and pretty amazing to see up close. Of course, you can’t get too close. There are signs everywhere telling you not to get too close or you will be fined or shot on site, I can’t remember.

Photo by mighty, mighty good man David, who could totally be a nature photographer.

So anyway, while David was taking awesome photos like the one above, I wandered out on some rocks in the ocean, and I spotted another sea turtle. He was hanging out on some rocks, but to me he looked like he was stuck.

“I think this turtle is stuck! He needs me to save him,” I thought to myself, because I’m an asshole who always thinks animals need her to interfere in their lives. Right after this thought popped into my head, a big wave came and pushed the turtle off the rocks. Then the turtle pushed his way back up on the rocks.

If he could speak I imagine he would have said, “Hey lady. The whole turtle thing? I got it. We’ve been around for millions of years. We know how the tide works. Now why don’t you just go home and write a blog post about this or something.”


Babies on a plane

Yeah, so, we’re back from Hawaii. Aloha, or something.

I have a ton of stories to share, but I’m going to start with the plane rides, because everyone has been asking me how the plane rides with the Spawn went, and also, well, because I say so.

Mighty, mighty good man David and I have never traveled with a baby before. Well, not really anyway. The last time I was on a plane I was flying home from Paris in 2011, and I was knocked up, but I didn’t know it yet. I also drank a lot of wine on that flight. You’re welcome, kid.

The flight to Hawaii isn’t super long – 5 hours – but it feels like 25 hours when you’ve got a kid to entertain. The Spawn is only 11 months old. He’s not old enough to hand an iPad and say, “Here. Watch something and be quiet.”

I have been on a flight with a crying baby. It sucks for everyone. All the passengers get annoyed, and the parents get embarrassed and upset, which sometimes makes the babies cry even more. I like to think that I’ve always been understanding in that situation, so good karma was coming my way.

Luckily, The Boy was pretty good. We brought plenty of snacks, and I handed him a bottle at take off and landing to help him unplug his ears. He cried a little when we were landing on Hawaii, but it was for just a few minutes. In between the take off and landing, the Spawn used his dad as a human jumperoo and spent a lot of time staring at the back of the plane. That’s where all the action is.

We were sitting in the aisle and middle seat. There was a woman sitting in the window seat. I felt bad for her; trapped in a row with an 11-month-old. Calvin was all smiles for her, though, because my boy fancies himself a ladies man. David also treated our seatmate to a drink. After that, she was all good with us. In fact, she told us all about her life; how she is moving to Hawaii to start a “community.” It was like sitting next to Burning Man.

On the way home, we got an entire row to ourselves. Calvin loved staring out at the window.

The Boy even took a little nap at one point. David and I sat silently drinking our beer. It was awesome.

Later in the flight, The Boy was sitting on David’s lap when a flight attendant walked by and made eye contact with him. He smiled and reached out for her. “I’m willing if you are,” she said. She proceeded to walk up and down the aisle, handing out drinks with our kid in her arms. After a week of us, he was so over us, I guess. “Please, complete stranger. Take me away from all this.” He looked as happy as can be, going up and down the aisle with that flight attendant. Calvin loves attention. Every person was forced to look at him and he got a lot of smiles, which what he wants. After the flight, several passengers said good-bye to Calvin.

There was one serious fail on my part. When I was prepping the diaper bag for the flight home, I filled up all the bottles with water to have them at the ready for formula. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t do that when flying to Hawaii. I only did it when flying home. Of course, I got stopped at security. I had to stand there, looking like a nerdy terrorist, while some security guard busted out what looked like a chemical set and tested all the water in the bottles. I was so embarrassed, but I tried to refrain from making any jokes, which is my default thing to do when embarrassed. One stupid joke about explosive baby bottles and the formula being anthrax could land me on the no-fly list. So, learn from my mistake: Don’t fill up your baby bottles before security.

Flying with a baby is super stressful. It’s like going on an airplane with a little time bomb that could go off at any second and ruin the flight for everyone. Oh wait. Will referring to a baby as a time bomb get me on the no-fly list?


Bonne année!

Yeah, so, last year mighty, mighty good man David and I rang in the New Year in Paris. We were on our honeymoon.

I am incapable of talking about our trip to Paris and Belgium without gushing. We had the most amazing time. And we got a nifty souvenir from the trip. The Spawn is pretty cute.

On New Year’s Eve, we spent the day walking all over Paris. We went to the cafe where they filmed “Amelie.” We went to the Erotic Museum (it was kinda stupid and gross – surprise). We walked to the Sacré-Coeur. Then we headed to the neighborhood where we were having NYE dinner. We had dinner reservations at Bistrot Paul Bert at 8. We figured we had plenty of time to eat dinner and then head to the Eiffel Tower to ring in the New Year. It turns out that at a nice restaurant in Paris you don’t do dinner AND something else. You just do dinner.

We arrived in the neighborhood early, before 7. The restaurant wasn’t open yet. In fact, the staff was eating dinner when we walked by. So, we walked to the end of the block to a neighborhood bar for a drink. I have such warm feelings for this bar. I wish I could remember the name of it. It was a family-owned neighborhood bar. It wasn’t some cool place you read about. They were getting ready for the NYE crowd, putting out horns and party hats. The staff was all dressed up. One of the younger male employees arrived for work in a brand-new crisp black button-up shirt and everyone started teasing him. I was a little sad to leave when it came time for dinner.

Of course, I wasn’t sad for long. We had the most amazing dinner. Lobster tempura with a lobster bisque shot, a scallop with a truffle, a delicious filet of beef and a dessert so soaked with rum that I got even more drunk eating it.

Drool, drool.

We met this older French couple at the restaurant. By the end of the evening they were referring to themselves as our “French parents.” We loved chatting with them. We were having such a great time at the restaurant that we decided to ring in the New Year with our French parents instead of trying to fight with crowds at the Eiffel Tower. (The next day, we met a group of Italians who came to town for NYE. They went to the Eiffel Tower and said they couldn’t see jack. We made the right call.)

At midnight, everyone in the restaurant walked around and clinked glasses. David and I kissed under the mistletoe, which is a tradition in France. I bet you didn’t know that. You see! You can learn something reading this blog.

This photo was taken by our adoptive French parents.

I think we left the restaurant at 1 a.m. We walked back to our hotel. It was a goodly walk, but everyone was out in the streets, so it was an entertaining walk as well. Everyone was wishing each other a Happy New Year. Bonne année! And even though David had told me a million times how to pronounce it, drunk-ass Sonia was walking the streets of Paris saying, “bon ami!” or “good friend.”

French person: “Bonne année!” (Happy New Year!”)
Me: “Bon ami!” (Good friend)
French person gives me a weird look.

You’re welcome, America!

So anyway, instead of trying to bully someone into babysitting the Spawn for us, David and I are celebrating this New Year’s Eve at home. David is going to cook a French feast, including mussels in white wine sauce and creme brulee, and we’re going to finally open a bottle of wine that we brought home from that trip. Also, we’ve recorded the entire “Thin Man” series on TCM, so we’re all set.

So, my dear bons amis: Bonne année!

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A Room With An Ocean View

I just got back from the big Santa Cruz wedding and, man oh man, I’m exhausted. Chris and I had a blast. Tons of food. Tons of booze. Tons of fun.

We got their Friday afternoon and checked in. The room itself was just so-so, but the view was great; a beautiful ocean view. Lovely. Not once did we close the sliding glass door, because we didn’t want to drown out the sound of waves crashing on the beach. Seriously, it’s like a lullaby. The sound is so hypnotic, so relaxing.

After admiring our fantastic view, we decided to get a closer look and headed down to the pier for some afternoon beer drinkin’ and fried calamari eatin’. Mmmmm. Later, we had dinner with Michelle and Tony in a cool place with an ocean view. (It’s all about the ocean view, folks.) I think Michelle ate 40 lbs. of crab that night. I’m also pretty sure that crab is what kept Michelle from being horribly sick the next day, because she stayed out late, boozin’ it up with the cousins. Chris and I opted for the hot tub. I think we made the right choice.

The Saturday afternoon wedding ceremony was relatively short for a Catholic wedding. (The bride looked beautiful and the couple looked so happy together.) Of course, I’m surprised the church didn’t come crumbling down when I walked in. There was a lot of praying and praising the lord and singing and what not. I don’t believe in that God stuff. They might as well be praying to Santa Claus, but hey, to each their own. I’m not an intolerant jackass. Oh wait, does that statement about Santa Claus make me an intolerant jackass? Eh, what can you do?

So anyway, I’ve got two words for you about the reception: Open bar.

The reception was at the Cocoanut Grove, which is part of the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. Beautiful, huge ballroom. Really fantastic.

My sexy, but not-too-sexy green dress was a crowd pleaser, especially with some of the uncles with, err, busy hands. Chris showed off his smooth moves on the dance floor, leaving my cousin-in-law, Dave, to exclaim, “Chris has got the moves out there. I was about to cut in.”

Instead of a DJ, the couple opted for a band – wait, scratch that — a cheesy 80s band. At one point, they played Prince’s “You Got the Look” and the only people dancing were Michelle and Tony and Chris and myself. Oh, but the dance floor was packed for “Footloose.” That’s right! Everybody cut loose! What the fuck is that about? Never underestimate the power of Kenny Loggins. I suspect if the band had busted out some Richard Marx the dance floor was have exploded.

OH, and the long-talked about dance off between the Mansfield ladies and their boyfriends never “officially” took place, but I’m pretty sure Dave’s above-mentioned comments let’s you know who would have been victorious. Thanks be to Dave.

After the reception, a bunch of us drunk asses went to the arcade and played drunken Tetris, drunken air hockey (Chris jacked up his hand losing to Dave, wah-wah), drunken Donkey Kong, drunken … oh, you get the idea.

And later, as the party moved from the arcade to the bar … the alcohol really started to kick in. The talking turned to yelling, err, I mean, enthusiastic debating. You know: the usual. The next morning was voice was scratchy as hell. Chris says he can always tell when I’ve had too much drink because my volume gets turned up.

It was a great weekend. We had such a good time. On the way home, we took the scenic Highway 1 and stopped for In N Out Burger. Believe it or not, it was my first time. Mmmmm. I was an In N Out virgin. I’m so glad I waited, so my first time was with some really special.

Now, I’m still hung over. I have a dull ache in my head that only cuddling on the couch with my Homer and watching TV can cure. (Speaking of the Homer, thanks be to Kate for dog-sitting!)