Weekend Smackdown, I mean Update

Today I am feeling a little sleepy.

This could be because I drank every day for the part three days-or because I let an old man kiss me on Saturday (no one can say I don't make good on my gambling debts).

Here is the weekend update:

Friday night I hung out with Miss Hope Valentine, Darling Peterson, and Darling’s boyfriend Wakefield at Paddy’s, one of Milwaukee’s best Irish pubs. There we sat around and talked about girl stuff-well me, Hope and Darling talked, while Wakefield listened politely.

Saturday, after a quick (cough, 3 hour, cough) shopping trip to the mall, I raced home, prettied up, and rushed over to Peaches Wilson’s place where I was to act as her hetero-date for an evening at her curling club.

Besides having a true mind for business, Peaches is a member of one of Wisconsin’s finest curling clubs; and this weekend her club was hosting their annual men’s tournament followed by an evening of gambling/boozing hosted by the club’s female members; admittedly, I am not a member of the curling club, however, Peaches invited me to come, and I was more than happy to oblige.

The night started well with a (soberly awkward) dinner with the other ladies from the club. After dinner, one of the senior ladies made a quick announcement explaining that we had more ladies than tables and as a result, we would be dealing Blackjack in teams of three. Seeing as I have trouble counting past 10 (and have never played Blackjack before) I was thrilled to know that the pressure of dealing would not rest solely on my shoulders; even though Peaches assured me that no one took it seriously anyway. Well, no one that is, except for the third person randomly assigned to our team: Hildegard Snodgrass.

Peaches and me quietly planning our escape...

At the ripe old age of 40 (going on 70), Hildegard was a stern taskmaster with a thick upper lip and the air of a woman who had never felt the touch of man outside her immediate family. Despite our efforts to include her in the merrymaking, Hildegard was having none of it, and quickly took to scolding Peaches and I for giving away free chips and for telling the gamblers whether they should hit or stay. It was not long before most of the gamblers had sought fun at the other tables, and seeing that there was nothing Peaches and I could do to save the sinking ship that was our Blackjack table, we left Hildegard to her own devices and went off to mingle with the tournament’s other attendees.

By the time the clock struck midnight, we felt it to be in our best interests to leave. So, after saying our goodbyes and exchanging cell phone numbers with Hildegard (***blatant lie***) Peaches and I headed home.

On Sunday morning, after bumming around well into the afternoon, I met up with Hope, Darling, and Wakefield for a kick-ass Superbowl party at Wakefield’s friend’s place. Let’s just say Wakefield’s friend had one of the coolest condos I have ever seen-and after watching the game on a movie screen, I think I am ruined for all future Superbowls.

What a weekend.