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February 5, 2007
I watched the SuperBowl yesterday. The entire game. I didn't know I had the stamina to make it through four hours (was it even four? I lost count) of football, but somehow I persevered, even through Prince's half-time treat to America singing Purple Rain (in the rain). I had little idea of or interest in what was going on other than that one team was called the Bears and the other the Colts. At least it provided a good opportunity to get some reading in. I read several BudgetTravel magazines back to back, picking up some useful tips for a tropical vacation we're fantasizing about taking sometime in the Spring. But you know, I rather enjoyed myself. There was guacamole and blueberry pie and friends and 40s of Corona. AND I won THREE dollars. It was all so darn low-brow American and wholesome. You know what else is really gosh darn American, so fucking American it hurts because I am laughing so hard? A president, someone who has literally endless resources and money at his disposal, who subsists solely on white bread and Kraft singles.
So the weekend was one marked by hibernation, except for the SuperBowl party and a two second shuffle across the street for brunch. Rafe was knocked out with some sort of sinus infection so like any good Jewish grandmother, I fed him back to health. I cooked up a batch of baked ziti, meatloaf, and a killer pumpkin pudding (no matzoh ball soup- I mean, I'm only half-Jewish here, and not even the right half). Sometimes hibernation and meatloaf are all you need during a freezing winter weekend. Other than that, we watched some steamy movies, and caught up on some errands like selling our old bed frame on Craigslist. I could hardly believe it when the doorbell rang and a stranger handed over a wad of twenties in exchange for a pile of splintery wood planks and a bag of worn-down screws.
Off to meet Vince for some arepas. Haven't seen him in ages. He's been living the good life of a traveling business man: first class travel, swanky hotels, room service, etc. He called me last week and I hadn't spoken in a while, whereas usually we speak everyday.
"Hey I'm staying at this hotel and I can see the Hollywood sign from my window. Yeah, it's pretty fresh alright and it's 80 degrees out. I was just at the beach. It's 10 below out there? Gosh, and you slipped on some ice and Rafe is buried under a mountain of snotty tissues? That sucks. Hold on.... Sorry, I gotta go. We're having a power-brunch."
People he said "power-brunch." What happened to the brother we all know and love?
Posted by debbie at February 5, 2007 2:46 PM
Comments
why is it not surprising that bush has the pallate of a five year old?
Posted by: rm at February 6, 2007 1:13 PM
oh, and don't forget about those delicous challah rolls you got, mmmm...challah.
Posted by: rm at February 6, 2007 1:16 PM
correction: blueberry soup
Posted by: md at February 8, 2007 4:49 PM