WebKittyn Warbles
Sunday, November 02, 2008
Thanksgiving Eve in Pat’s
We were talking in the KMRL chatroom the other night about our favourite holidays and Thanksgiving got a lot of votes. Hecubus brought up the many Thanksgiving eves we spent in Pat's and how awesome those nights were.
Pat's was a dive bar, it was my Cheers for 10 years. It was my second home and much more than just a bar. The decor sucked but the jukebox was good and it had been in business forever. Luke owned the place, he got it from his father who had run the place and he ran it with his two sons Mike and Jeff. It was a generational bar, people would go and drink in the same bar their parents drank in. They had a cranky old waitress named Rosie who was rumoured to spit in people's food if they insulted her but she loved us.
Luke was like a second father to all the regulars, he knew everyone by name and he knew how to run his bar. He would cut people off when needed and he was quick on the buy-backs. Mike and Jeff were young and goodlooking and it was just an all around homey bar. I almost had a thing with Mike, unfortunately for me Mike had a fiance but this isn't about my sins.
Twice a year Pat's was guaranteed to be packed, standing room only and that was if you were lucky. St. Patrick's Day and Thanksgiving eve. Thanksgiving eve was the night when people would appear out of the woodwork, it was like a tradition. The college kids would come home and people who hadn't been in Pat's since the year before would make the annual trek for the night.
We were a pretty big core crew, getting a table was serious business. I got there at around 6PM one year just to grab a table big enough for myself, Faith Anne, Danielle, Darkstar, Hecubus, The Bear, Michael, Pat Hunter, Joe Z and Liz..
It was a big drinking night, you couldn't go up to the bar to get a drink without ending up doing 5-6 rounds of shots with old friends, new friends or strangers. I think I topped off at 17 shots of Jager one night along with my usual double wild turkey and Cokes. And the Goldschlager, Christ that stuff was nasty. The Irish Mist. Oy.
It was a huge hook up night too but I guess that walks hand in hand with the excessive boozing. No one left Pat's alone on Thanksgiving eve unless they wanted to. Darkstar and Hecubus were man-whores, it was always interesting to see who they left with. I was with Michael most of the time who was usually too plastered to do anything after the bar but babble meaningless drunken "I love yous" and fall asleep at odd times.
It was such a good feeling in Pat's those nights. Everyone was happy, even the usual crowds that liked to bait each other would stop for the night and share a shot. 20 somethings just new to the bar would sit with 50 somethings who had been in Pat's for 30 years and sing along with the juke and share some wings.
They would clean up, too. We would be so plotzed by the time we left we would leave huge tips at the end of the night. I would drop a fifty on the bar at the end of the night and I wasn't alone.
Ritual would then dictate stopping in the lot behind the diner (which was about half a block down from Pat's) and smoking a joint or a bowl before hitting the diner for the mandatory 3AM Thanksgiving eve feast of potato skins and me in front of the lobster tank talking to the lobsters. They knew us well at the diner and we'd sit there for as long as it took for the coffee to work enough to make it home.
I loved those nights. I loved sitting at the table and watching the door the second it opened to see who was coming in. I loved flirting with people knowing it was just once a year flirting but it was so much fun. I loved sharing shots and buying rounds and the stupid sentimental shit drunk people say when they're making impromptu toasts. I loved hearing Michael confess his undying love knowing full well he wouldn't remember saying it until I reminded him. I loved being surrounded by kickass friends and fun people. I loved knowing I'd go home and wake up to a day of family, food and closeness.
It was my annual ritual for a little more than ten years and some of the happiest memories I have.
I hope it's a great Thanksgiving for everyone, I really do.
Pat's was a dive bar, it was my Cheers for 10 years. It was my second home and much more than just a bar. The decor sucked but the jukebox was good and it had been in business forever. Luke owned the place, he got it from his father who had run the place and he ran it with his two sons Mike and Jeff. It was a generational bar, people would go and drink in the same bar their parents drank in. They had a cranky old waitress named Rosie who was rumoured to spit in people's food if they insulted her but she loved us.
Luke was like a second father to all the regulars, he knew everyone by name and he knew how to run his bar. He would cut people off when needed and he was quick on the buy-backs. Mike and Jeff were young and goodlooking and it was just an all around homey bar. I almost had a thing with Mike, unfortunately for me Mike had a fiance but this isn't about my sins.
Twice a year Pat's was guaranteed to be packed, standing room only and that was if you were lucky. St. Patrick's Day and Thanksgiving eve. Thanksgiving eve was the night when people would appear out of the woodwork, it was like a tradition. The college kids would come home and people who hadn't been in Pat's since the year before would make the annual trek for the night.
We were a pretty big core crew, getting a table was serious business. I got there at around 6PM one year just to grab a table big enough for myself, Faith Anne, Danielle, Darkstar, Hecubus, The Bear, Michael, Pat Hunter, Joe Z and Liz..
It was a big drinking night, you couldn't go up to the bar to get a drink without ending up doing 5-6 rounds of shots with old friends, new friends or strangers. I think I topped off at 17 shots of Jager one night along with my usual double wild turkey and Cokes. And the Goldschlager, Christ that stuff was nasty. The Irish Mist. Oy.
It was a huge hook up night too but I guess that walks hand in hand with the excessive boozing. No one left Pat's alone on Thanksgiving eve unless they wanted to. Darkstar and Hecubus were man-whores, it was always interesting to see who they left with. I was with Michael most of the time who was usually too plastered to do anything after the bar but babble meaningless drunken "I love yous" and fall asleep at odd times.
It was such a good feeling in Pat's those nights. Everyone was happy, even the usual crowds that liked to bait each other would stop for the night and share a shot. 20 somethings just new to the bar would sit with 50 somethings who had been in Pat's for 30 years and sing along with the juke and share some wings.
They would clean up, too. We would be so plotzed by the time we left we would leave huge tips at the end of the night. I would drop a fifty on the bar at the end of the night and I wasn't alone.
Ritual would then dictate stopping in the lot behind the diner (which was about half a block down from Pat's) and smoking a joint or a bowl before hitting the diner for the mandatory 3AM Thanksgiving eve feast of potato skins and me in front of the lobster tank talking to the lobsters. They knew us well at the diner and we'd sit there for as long as it took for the coffee to work enough to make it home.
I loved those nights. I loved sitting at the table and watching the door the second it opened to see who was coming in. I loved flirting with people knowing it was just once a year flirting but it was so much fun. I loved sharing shots and buying rounds and the stupid sentimental shit drunk people say when they're making impromptu toasts. I loved hearing Michael confess his undying love knowing full well he wouldn't remember saying it until I reminded him. I loved being surrounded by kickass friends and fun people. I loved knowing I'd go home and wake up to a day of family, food and closeness.
It was my annual ritual for a little more than ten years and some of the happiest memories I have.
I hope it's a great Thanksgiving for everyone, I really do.
When I’m Tellin’ the World That I Love You
The Grass Roots - Midnight Confessions.
One of the 20 best songs ever.
Ever.
One of the 20 best songs ever.
Ever.
Friday, October 31, 2008
More on Prop 8
Today a dumbass asked me why I care so much since Prop 8 is a "California issue" and I'm a New Yorker. It's not a "California issue," dumbass. It's a human issue and I don't have to be a resident of California to feel strongly about something. Unreal.
Mango posted this on Twitter, it's worth putting here as well. I've had MUDders ask me what Prop 8 is and why it's in my title and I like this ad a lot. Apparently it's Samuel L. Jackson (thanks, Mango), I didn't know that when I heard it before.
In any case, no on 8 and here is a really informative website. Maybe we can motivate some MUDders to get away from Waterdeep and go vote.
No on 8!
Mango posted this on Twitter, it's worth putting here as well. I've had MUDders ask me what Prop 8 is and why it's in my title and I like this ad a lot. Apparently it's Samuel L. Jackson (thanks, Mango), I didn't know that when I heard it before.
In any case, no on 8 and here is a really informative website. Maybe we can motivate some MUDders to get away from Waterdeep and go vote.
No on 8!
Thursday, October 30, 2008
The Strangers
I got the unrated Strangers and I'm afraid to watch it.
That movie really creeps me out just from the trailers.
That movie really creeps me out just from the trailers.
New Year’s 2009
My new year doesn't start on January 1st this year. Last January 1st I was well into my unknown kidney decline and they had written my dad off already. This year my new year starts in November, the 27th to be exact. That was the day they rushed my dad to the hospital and the day it all started.
I've come a long way in a year. From a hair away from dead with a week I still can't remember to being off dialysis with the catheter removed. In the six months since I've been out of the hospital I've defied the odds and worked really hard to get to where I am.
Yet it's not enough. I get angry at myself for not having done more. I know it's not rational and I know it's just frustration but I get really pissed at myself for not having a car yet, for not having the lawsuit closer yet, for not being able to get through a day without throwing up, for feeling so weak and tired even though it's not my fault. Seems I have next to no iron in my body and I don't generate red blood cells or something like that. They're talking possible monthly transfusions which really isn't a big deal but it's a reminder that I'm not okay. Hell, I'll probably never be okay.
I'm okay enough to go to Everest Base Camp though. I've looked into it and a dude even summited with one kidney so that's one thing the kidneys didn't ruin for me.
It's become really important to me to re-connect with certain people from my past. Not to re-live the past, I kind of like the present. I've just had a lot of time to think and I've been really lucky with the people in my life and there are some I should have worked harder to not lose touch with. I want to find these people and keep in touch even if it's only the occasional email or whatever.
It's almost like coming out of a two year sleep. I wasted year one acting like a drama mama and getting into some stupid shit I should have avoided and ended up not liking what I saw when I looked in the mirror. Then I spend year two pretty much on my ass near dead. I've come to understand so much even though there's still a world of confusion out there.
I need to work on being patient with myself and my many imperfections, I need to keep my kidneys at their 20%, I need to tone up for Everest. All in my new year, my 2009 that begins in November.
The people I search I shall now list, Google does powerful things.
Dr. Frank B. McCluskey, formerly of Mercy College.
Rod. Ravennacht. Navarre. Zane. Pigeon.
John Blaise Gomez, Gogomezgo.
Vinny Alleva
Moises Irizarry, purple puppy, mo
I also need to start writing more. It really does help me sort it all out.
Happy early new year, kiddo.
I've come a long way in a year. From a hair away from dead with a week I still can't remember to being off dialysis with the catheter removed. In the six months since I've been out of the hospital I've defied the odds and worked really hard to get to where I am.
Yet it's not enough. I get angry at myself for not having done more. I know it's not rational and I know it's just frustration but I get really pissed at myself for not having a car yet, for not having the lawsuit closer yet, for not being able to get through a day without throwing up, for feeling so weak and tired even though it's not my fault. Seems I have next to no iron in my body and I don't generate red blood cells or something like that. They're talking possible monthly transfusions which really isn't a big deal but it's a reminder that I'm not okay. Hell, I'll probably never be okay.
I'm okay enough to go to Everest Base Camp though. I've looked into it and a dude even summited with one kidney so that's one thing the kidneys didn't ruin for me.
It's become really important to me to re-connect with certain people from my past. Not to re-live the past, I kind of like the present. I've just had a lot of time to think and I've been really lucky with the people in my life and there are some I should have worked harder to not lose touch with. I want to find these people and keep in touch even if it's only the occasional email or whatever.
It's almost like coming out of a two year sleep. I wasted year one acting like a drama mama and getting into some stupid shit I should have avoided and ended up not liking what I saw when I looked in the mirror. Then I spend year two pretty much on my ass near dead. I've come to understand so much even though there's still a world of confusion out there.
I need to work on being patient with myself and my many imperfections, I need to keep my kidneys at their 20%, I need to tone up for Everest. All in my new year, my 2009 that begins in November.
The people I search I shall now list, Google does powerful things.
Dr. Frank B. McCluskey, formerly of Mercy College.
Rod. Ravennacht. Navarre. Zane. Pigeon.
John Blaise Gomez, Gogomezgo.
Vinny Alleva
Moises Irizarry, purple puppy, mo
I also need to start writing more. It really does help me sort it all out.
Happy early new year, kiddo.
<-- Steal me!
