It goes like this:
Friday night, for the Tempus Tech Christmas Dinner, we were to be picked up by limo.
You should have seen the scene before the limo got there, with me demanding that Lily come over and make my hair beautiful. She says it always is, lovely Lily.
Limo driver calls Matt, lost. A block over the wrong way. Silly limo driver. And when he did show up, he didn't even open the door for us. I don't think he got out of the car. So we didn't get a good look at him until he got out to ring the doorbell at Beth and David's.
This eighteen-year-old-ish-looking kid, black, in a wool cap, jeans, and a long black trenchcoat. And he sits (as we saw when he came to pick us up after dinner) so that he can barely see over the steering wheel. And it was sort of unnerving, the six of us in a six-person limo that could comfortably hold four, with this guy tearing along down the streets behind the privacy panel (limos are dark at night, inside). And then David started playing with the buttons, and after that, the hoses under my seat were the only things venting warm air. All the ashtrays turned into tiny air conditioners, blowing cold air out of them. And we were just waiting for the guy to turn on some good bass music. Instead, David got the weather radio, by accident.
It was an ice-breaker, if nothing else. I got off a few good one-liners that I've now completely forgotten. Reminded Matt and I of the limo at our wedding. Which was super-cool. It was red, with a black top, and then the driver was this burly Italian-looking man (boy, I'm stereotype-city, tonight) in an open-collar shirt with gold chains and a hairy chest...and he was on his cell phone the whole freakin' time we were in the limo, I swear. Every time we saw him, he was on the cell phone.
So I've had two limo rides in my life - one in the Mafia limo with Ryken (Lily said he said to tell me he was crying when he left; she said at least teary-eyed. I told him I'd cry...he said he'd have to make it short, then. He did. I still cried, although he didn't see. I miss him. You get used to having someone around...) and Jo and Angel; and the other in the Ghetto limo with David and Beth and Jeremy and Sara(h?) - both of which were a great deal of fun, neither of which were what I expected.
And then dinner.
Dinner was at Catablu, which is a restaurant built in a renovated movie theatre (a Blue Theatre, if I recall correctly; I remember seeing the signs for "Theatre Blue" when I was a child). Merkle took us there for his annual Take-the-Sophomores-to-eat lunch. It was yummy then. For dinner, with Kent accompanying every menu with an "Order anything you want. Order everything you want," it was fan-fucking-tastic. I exclaimed that they had Riesling on the wine list, and Renee next to me said "What's Riesling?" Next thing I know, everyone wants to try the Riesling that Nykki says is so good, so Kent ordered a bottle. We passed around appetizers. There was this spinach and cheese bread dip stuff that was to die for. Mmm, spinach dip. We had another bottle of Riesling with dinner, although Matt and I drank far less than most of the others there. I'm used to sipping my wine slowly, making one glass last a meal. That's just how it's done.
I had salmon. Macademia nut salmon with garlic sauce, Mt. Fuji stir-fried vegetables and a rice cake underneath. It was beautiful, it fell apart when I put my fork to it, and it was positively scrumptious. Salmon. I love salmon. And I love macademia nuts. And I love...Mmmm, it was heaven on a plate. Which was then followed by christmas-present-giving (nuts, and peanut brittle, and Best Buy gift cards from the management) and dessert (Crème Brulée, oh divine). And then the ghetto-limo-ride back.
And today, we got up and went shopping for Christmas presents. Mmph. I hate the mall around Christmas. But we're almost done! Even got something for Bri. After I finished having "Eee! Is cute!" fits over it for like ten minutes. Muahahaha.
Speaking of, I need to put together my Christmas list for everyone. Angel and Mark are talking about things behind my back, I can't look at the computer screen and all that. Very top-secret.
Danielle e-mailed me back to remind me that Chavaling's moving, and that's why I haven't heard from her in days. She warned me. Weight off my chest; I was about to call her. I'm such a worrywart. Don't hear from someone for a couple of days, and I start getting paranoid fantasies about all sorts of horrible things happening to them. Chavaling, you'll be gratified to know that you had reached the "lying in a pool of blood, undiscovered, with all of your family, the victim of a random serial slasher" stage. Which is relatively advanced. Hurry up and come back, so I can quit being all paranoid.
Too bad, I have to study tomorrow :( Biostatistics. Remind me to whine about the Medicine exam on Monday, and how stupid it's going to be. But for now...to bed. Good night, Clarabear. I love you.