The Catch Up-ening - Part One

So I got older this month.

I tend to stretch my Birthday Celebration into something more like Birthweek Celebration, or similar. Basically I allow myself a full 7 days to revel in my advancing age, not content to contain my fun to a single 24 hour period. This has many advantages (more fun, less tight planning, more rationalization for slacking off), and since I don't usually go in for an actual party (who wants to go through the hassle of hosting a party on their birthday?) it's good fun for everyone.

This year we did a late birthday week, as my birthday was on a Monday and the following weekend was SMU Homecoming. Eschewing the petty details (like the actual date) I celebrated nothing on Monday, and started up the partying on Thursday (the night of the aforeblogged Regina concert).

We did that first night after the concert out at what I call The Cougar Bar, which we seem to keep going to despite how horrifying the patrons tend to be. An excerpt from that night:

Jim: It is not cold here, I know what cold is like.
Devon: You are crazy, it is freezing out here!
[A cop car pulls up]
Devon: And what's with the po-lice?
[Walking nearby, a drunken barfly spots the squad car and "nonchalantly" wanders over to us]
Drunken Guy: Hey guys, I'm [name forgotten]. I'm gonna sit here with you guys for a while, you seem like some nice guys to hang out with, guys. [Eyes flick to the cops]
Jason, Devon, Jim, Frank: [Awkward Silence]
Drunken Guy: [Puts his arm around Jim] So what are you guys up to?
Jason, Devon, Jim, Frank: [More Awkward Silence]
Drunken Guy: [Looks over at Jim] What's your name, guy?
Jim: [Awkwardly] Jim.
Drunken Guy: Heeey, Jim. I'm [name forgotten].
Jim: Yeah, you already said that.
[More awkward silence, for several minutes, until the police car finally rolls away. Almost immediately after, a bartender comes out.]
Bartender: Okay man, time to go, they're gone now. Get some rest.
Drunken Guy: But-but-but, I'm just hanging with my new friends...
Jason, Devon, Jim, Frank: [Raised eyebrows, concerned/horrified looks all around]
Bartender: Yeah, uh-huh. Go on, now.
Drunken Guy: Well it was nice to meet you, Jim.
[He wanders off, weaving across the busy street. Theoretically to go home, but we actually see him sneak into the bar next door minutes later]
Jason: Well, now that some random guy has hit on Jim, we can properly move on with the night.

It was a nice quietly paced night after that. Primarily because I had to be at the office at 8:00am the next morning for a closing, and I don't do mornings hungover very well.

Friday saw a morning of work, an afternoon of delicious food, and a two hour happy hour at the local sports bar involving only one beer, but a very large cookie with ice cream instead. Later that night we hit an independent movie (see sidebar) and learned (well, confirmed) that the idea of a bar in the movie theatre is possibly the best use of modernization this century.

Saturday was the SMU Homecoming, both the game and tailgating Boulevarding. Because there's nothing wrong with starting drinking at 11:00am, provided you are on a rich campus, and it's birthday week. The Engineering School managed to finally pay dividends for me, when I scored some delicious free lunch, free beer, and free tickets to the game. That is, after we were finally able to track down everyone in our motley crew, as united we are invincible, while divided we're just kinda sad.

After a quick tour of the strip, where we visited many old friends and mortal enemies alike, I scored a foldable frisbee (which will be perfect for winging at Frank for years to come) and we moved on to the game. We stayed for two quarters (with the exception of Frank, who lit out from the Boulevard the second we mentioned the game, like they were housing Ebola in the stadium) and then abandoned the Mustangs to their eventual last second loss the second halftime was over. I went off to nap and run as many errands as possible before our planned night of debauchery.

Said planned night of debauchery got off to a very slow start when the piano bar we attempted to visit had a line down the block (damn all the homecomings!). Instead we went down near The Cougar Bar again, this time to a place which served delicious hurricanes, and contained the most cliched band on the planet.

Recipe: Take one part Bono imitator, dark sunglasses while indoors, and ironic Ramones t-shirt. Age for 10 long years. Add one elderly bass guitarist, mix well with black pleather pants until sufficiently horrified. Lightly sprinkle with out-of-place younger guitarist and season with really loud drumming to taste. Serve with as much alcohol as you can stand.

I was able to get drunk on approximately three drinks, because I am malnourished to the point of waif status. We made a quick stop at a local Irish pub so that I could have my traditional Southern Comfort drink to end the night and Devon and Jim could question their reasoning skills on letting me drink in public.

I don't remember Sunday, but I assume nothing too important happened that day, other than the viewing of football and the liberal consumption of chicken fried steak. (You have to wind down the birthday week. That's why you get multiple days.) And just like that, Jim headed back to parts north, and we returned to non-birthday status. Woe.

But it was definitely a solid birthday weekend, and I firmly endorse the concept of applying such an extension to everyone else. Take your time, enjoy yourself. It only happens once a year.