 | Roses and Red Bull Vodkas
Current mood:  optimistic People! People of the sun! Hello! It's been far too long, don't you think? What can I say though? The life that is the holiday season grabbed a hold of me, shook me around for a little bit like a rag doll and then hurled me back into the day to day.
December 28th was Bewaro the Sombrero, the annual all day ultimate tournament in San Mateo. Unfortunately, I didn't get to play a full day of ultimate. Fortunately, that's because I had to leave the tournament to sign off on my first sale as a realtor. Now THAT'S some hot shit.
I'll backtrack to early December when a couple walked into the office off the street looking for a realtor. I was on floor, met them, got them pre-approved through a lender, and then helped them write a contract for their first home. Anyone looking for their first home should definitely be getting in touch...every person's profile is different, but in the end, my clients didn't put any money down, got 100% financing and their first month's home payment paid for through escrow.
Needless to say the fact that my Bewaro team didn't win the tournament didn't get me down all that much. Close of escrow is the 9th.
Friday night was a drunk one. On Saturday morning, I woke up very confused. I didn't know where I was. A little worried that I might have gone home with someone I had just met, and who's name I certainly wouldn't remember, I move my head slightly to both side to glance out of the corner of my eye for bedmates....nope, all alone. I climb out of bed, creep to the door of the room, peek into the hallway and realize that I'm at Christina's apartment. Good job me.
Saturday, I manage to be real productive...I get to Nini's with Charles, watch Clerks 2 and then get over to Haight to watch Baraka on a big screen. I'll tell you something, had I known that the popcorn would be organic, the butter non-fat and the screen more scratched up than my back after a night with a raccoon, I would have stayed at home, smoked a joint and watched it on my HD.
Sunday though...Sunday's a different story all together. I get up early and head down to LA at about 10 am. The trip is uneventful, aside from me singing a Justin Timberlake song at the top of my lungs (c'mon, y'all know that I DO NOT sing Justin Timberlake songs, but what can I say? It was a bit catchy)...I get to USC at about 4 pm, giving me enough time to walk around for a bit before it got dark.
You never realize how much you miss campus until you get back to it.
I head from there out to Andy's place in Covina. Chica's there, the pad is sweet and I start drinking from the kegerator early and often because, hey, it's New Year's Eve. He tells me we're gonna head to his roommate's house for a party, which I find to be awesome. By the time I show up, the front door opens to reveal middle aged twins. I blink twice and realize that I was seeing two of one middle aged woman, and she happens to be Andy's roommate's mother. He did not prepare me for parents.
I shake her hand, pause for about two seconds as I try to gather my wits about me and say, "Ma'am, your home is so festively decorated, it's beautiful."
The look that radiates from her means that I could trash the place, throw up in her laundry machine and devirginize her 15 year old daughter, and she would still see me as the nice young man who recognized her decorating skills.
The party is about what you'd expect....lots of booze, a standard countdown (where I'm the only loser not kissing someone, but then again, when I went down to a random party plastered I didn't exactly figure on being able to secure a kisser by midnight), and then the beautiful part of the evening....
About 1 or so, I start looking around and realize that Andy is gone. Gone too are the two ladies that he was talking to. I mean, he asked me to be his wingman, and then he disappears with both of them, not even offering me a way back to his place?
I'm more confused than mad, and the evening ends well when the roommate's dad, no doubt in love with me because his wife is, graciously offers me a ride back to Andy's. At this point, 6 of Andy's friends realize that, hey, he ditched them too, and they all hitch back. I spend the rest of the night trying to concentrate on smoking pot, which is very unsuccessful due to how drunk I am, and watching three guys compete over the same beat chick. This girl had an amazing body, a troll face and was the center of attention simply because she was the only girl in the house. I pass out on the couch very glad that I'm not a part of that competition.
Monday, I wake up, not confused or lost this time, just missing my legs. I literally, upon waking up, cannot feel my legs. I look down and see that Chica has decided to sleep on me and my legs are fully asleep. Fantastic.
We get out to the Rose Bowl at about 11 am, and Andy has discovered that somehow, very magically, he ended up with two tickets to a tailgate party. The tickets cost 80 bucks, and as we spend two hours drinking and eating for free, we can see why someone might pay that. We, however, did not. Cruise into the game and find ourselves on the most beautiful 50 yard line seats I've ever had for a football game.
It starts out nervous...the SC fans are scared of Michigan and the Michigan fans are going wild despite the fact that they only make up 15% of the stadium. When the half ends at 3-3, the stadium has this very strange anticipatory feeling to it. But as the Trojans start to play, the fans get into it, and suddenly the game is out of hand and Michigan fans can't do anything but stand there in shocked silence. By the time the game ends, most of the Michigan fans have crept out the backdoor and the field is washed in red.
I won't get into the details of the car ride home, but lets just say that Chris Reich and I undergo the Chinese water torture treatment of all car rides. I've never had so much trouble staying awake behind the wheel, and frankly, it was so painful that ritual suicide seemed preferable at the time. Now, of course, it seems like a silly idea, but last night, it might have worked.
So there you have it...back to the real world. Back to 2007. Wait, I mean back to the future, or what's left of it at any rate. Welcome to the year of the secret agent...if you see me, be sure not to blow my cover, cause it's deep. |
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