It was SUCH a nice day out. I wanted to walk to a restaurant and sit out on a patio. So I came home, and forced my hungover roommate to go on an Uptown adventure with me. We walked to Pat’s Tap, and ended up sitting inside. The patio was in the shade, and it’s just not that warm yet. They have good bloody marys.I’m SO ready to live alone, but I sure am going to miss this girl.After our bloodies, we walked to Uptown Tavern, my stinking gravity hole of bars. I always end up there, and I am rarely impressed (I think it’s just a vibe thing). For the first time ever, we ventured to the “game-y” section of the bar where we played big game hunter (I’m obsessed with this game!) and beer pong. Then we walked back to the apartment to watch Frozen. And we found a cat along the way.
Casey was in town for the MN Deer Classic (he lives up North in the woods), so we went out on the town.
We went to Williams, which I love (they come in pints!, lots of pool, peanut shells on the floor, and the $2 Chicago dogs), but then Casey wanted to dance. So I said, “there is one place to dance in Uptown, but it’s a little sketchy.”
But we went anyway.
When we walked in, they were playing crappy music (again and again and again). So I walked to the DJ (aka I weaved through a hoard of sweaty bodies) and requested a song.
Then they kept playing more bad songs, and Casey wanted to go to another bar. “We need to dance to Usher, and then we can leave,” I demanded.
When Usher finally came on and I wanted to skip to the dance floor, only I never really had the opportunity to get there, only pivot toward it because suddenly people were flying and a full out brawl was breaking out. One man picked up a stool and smashed it over the other person. Wood chips were flying. People were flying. And then the lights were on, cops were inside, and people were getting yelled at to “get out.” When we walked outside, we were immediately blinded by a spotlight in the sky (helicopter), and the flashing cop lights that lined the street (shutting the whole road down).
“I told you it was a little sketchy,” I snickered. “Now let’s go back to Williams for one last hot dog.”
Initially my sister and I were going to go thrift shopping after she got off work. Only not a lot of places are open on Sundays. So, naturally, we went out for sushi instead.
And again, naturally, we forgot to take photos.
(We went to Wakame in Uptown. They have happy hour sushi and drinks until 6:00p.m. We got there at 4:30ish, right before a huge rush of people.)
My friend Vanessa recommended I go to Dick’s Last Resort. I think I’ve been there once before, but that was back when I had blonde hair (aka was a prude).
I thought I could hold my own this time, and maybe not blush down to my toes.
You see, the wait staff are jerks. People seriously pay to be made fun of. You have to wear this diaper hat that says offensive things on it too. And normally it’s a blast (if you’re with the right people)…but I was still sick. And after two days of “lame” activities,” I forced myself to keep this date.
You know when you realize half-way through a joke that you’re telling it wrong, but it’s too late to stop, so you just keep plowing ahead, knowing the punch line is going to be filled with your uncomfortable laugh, or if you’re like me, an awkward noise? Yeah, somehow accept that as an explanation to how I felt all night. Like I was telling a bad joke.
And my hearing was still all weird from “the illness,” so I couldn’t hear half of the insults. I just kept an offended frown on my face, you know, so the wait staff felt comfortable.
At Dick’s Last Resort.
A restaurant where they are paid to be ass holes.
My day was spent on the road, driving back from my weekend up north.
And as I drove, I craved sushi.
So I decided I was going to eat some. We went to Kiku’s in Uptown. They had a happy hour deal…except it’s always happy hour. So, is that really a deal? (Plus I always order a million rolls and apps, so my bill came to over $30!)One mass text later, I had a few takers.I had my go-to gals.And a little later a few guys showed up. I hadn’t seen them in months (and I barely knew them), but I knew they lived in the area. And, this is how you make friends–right?!
I didn’t take any pictures of sushi, or the guys, because a.) I was using my friend’s phone since I have a shitty camera on mine, and b.) I was starting to get sick (blurry eyesight, migraine, upset stomach, etc.).
I went home to sleep, and I’m still feeling “off.” Poo.
Today my coworker and I went to Kramarcuk’s for some delicious grub after work. Red Cabbage has got to be on my top ten favorite food list.The pyrohy’s were contenders for that list too. Why didn’t I order some to go? I could be eating in bed as I type this.
Oh and they have beer mugs for $3 when you order beer. What a steal! Especially when you need another beer mug (sigh/eye-roll).The food and service was superb (I will be back!). The trip to the restaurant–situated in downtown Minneapolis–was head-shake worthy (during the after-work rush hour), but it has a parking lot. So that was NICE.
Weekends can be sort of stressful because exciting activities are expected. When I got home from work, I wanted to lay down and be lazy, and maybe go to bed at 8 p.m. But, I had to do something “photoworthy.” So, my roommate told me to take my dirtbag self and shower and get ready, that we were going to suburbia.
Spencer picked up some flavored vodka and sparkling water (fyi, this is a delicious drink that makes you stay hydrated too!), and came over. Then we tripped it out to the burbs (stayed at her sister’s house), and trekked to Wild Bill’s.
It was like an Ed Hardy explosion.
At the end of the night, Elton John and Sweaty Cowboy showed up. Initially we tried to get a sneaky picture (“I’ll stand behind them, just pretend you’re taking a picture of me”). Then I just jumped in there. I tend to force photos on strangers.We danced our butts off, sang (poorly…I really don’t know the lyrics to any songs), glass-clinked, and hip checked people who came too close to the hurricane that was us.And then we returned the next day for a bloody mary (which was pretty good). But really, we weren’t hungover–only tired. We think this is because of the drinks with water (instead of pop), the dancing, and the giant Toppers mac & cheese with bacon pizza we devoured before bed (and holy crap was that good).
Time to go raid the leftovers…
Ok, so when I say I had a “bad day,” it’s really an unfair generalization. My car started, I got to work safely, I met with a real cheery author, and I got to meet with a friend for “dinner.”
And little details in there were a bit unpleasant.
Anyways, what counts, is that I got to meet with an old (yet new) friend for “dinner.” I considered it “dinner,” because it was around supper time, but I put it in quotations, because I just got pie and wine. And I labelled her an old (yet new) friend, because I’ve only known this friend for a year (new), but she was the first person I met in the Twin Cities (old).
I met Laine at WIN (Women in Networking) a year ago (my first day at my job). Laine learned I was new to the area, so she asked me to meet up for dinner. We went to Gigi’s that first night, and again tonight for old times sake.
Tonight Laine helped me brainstorm through my writing group’s road blocks. (And a few personal moral dilemmas. No big deal.)
We also set up a tentative one-on-one photography lesson. You see, Laine’s real talented.And we tried to take a million photos…and I’d say they’re all keepers.
I’d never been to a meat raffle before. Naturally, since it is a midwestern (and often unheard of) activity, I had to add it to the “Slice of Bliss” list.
So I tagged along with my coworker/friend Heather, to Cy’s Bar and Grill.
How it works: You buy a $1 raffle ticket. They spin a wheel, and if it lands on your number, you get to pick out a package of meat. Tada! And you keep playing until all the meat’s gone. They do this at CJ’s every weekend. I’d go all the time if it was in my neck of the woods. (So I’m going to have to do some research.)
Heather, was the meat raffle queen.
She won three times.
And I won a free drink.
A couple of weeks before the holiday break, I met up with my old friend Stephanie. We grew up together (she calls me Katy Jo, an indicator that she’s known me awhile). Our friendship sort of dissolved when we got impatient with each other a few years back.
And then time passed, and we realized that it was time to reconnect and forget about the foolishness of the past. Good friends are hard to come by.
So tonight I met up with Stephanie again, and we went to Cowboy Jacks for some drinks and an appetizer.
It was packed when I got there. Stephanie was running late due to traffic, so I high-tailed it to the bar. Then I just stood there awkwardly, too dazed from the pace of things, trying to shake off the computer-coma from work, shrug off my uber long scarf, and take off my faux-fur coat that was making me self-conscious in this low-key place. Luckily, some lady at the bar got the bartender’s attention for me, and the beer helped me relax while I waited.
When Steph showed up, we got a booth (after our buzzer finally went off), and we ordered some nachos.
And all this was topped off by our front row seats to the bull-riding.
Oh, and one more thing.
I’m doing the Polar Plunge with the Cowboy Jacks team this year. The event raises money for the Special Olympics. I need to raise at least $75 to get the reward of jumping into a frigid winter lake. So, if you have a dollar to spare (every.single.bit.helps.), please pledge my leap here.