Post Poker Championship

Friday night went out with a bang, us heading back the B’s pad and makin’ some fancy drinks. Not sure if I mentioned these two important facts, but SB makes better martinis than any bartender out there, and Enviga is really good with vodka. She had some pomegranate and Izze and Enviga concoction that I think she should trademark. Seriously, we had it out. MK retired for a bit and SB and I had a classic girls reminiscing over drinks time that will have a special little place in my heart forever. Background: We worked together for a very short time before we got a place together, that was forever ago and we’re still each other’s favorites. That rocks.

Saturday was a slow to get going day, MK and I went out for water, Gatorade and Quiznos, aka hangover cure lunch. RB has a sweet giant plane and we tried to go fly it but it was too windy. We found a place called Croc’s that had the infamous Bloody Mary Bar, a couple times. Delicious. A1, my favorite product in the universe, makes those drinks, let me tell you. We went home and snoozed a little while RB worked on his music, he’s a world famous musician. He’s got new tunes coming out soon. So cool.

SB took MK and I to the Rockies game that night. For dinner. Reminder: As a BoSox girl, I didn’t know there were places you could go to and get $4-$15 tickets. That day. For that game. The place was so empty. I guess they aren’t that good…didn’t matter to me. We got brats with all the fixin’s, peanuts and beer. Coors. It is the Coors stadium. You get Coors beer. That’s it. Fine. You can’t see the mountains, but I could. Very pretty.

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SB took us to the coolest bar in the world, Double Daughters.

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We hung out there, checked out the Meadowlark, which was packed, then headed home. Early morning, y’all.

Denver was interesting. It is polluted, and messy, highly under construction downtown. The B’s talked to us a lot about living there, especially coming from NYC, they were disappointed in the lack of vibes and culture Denver had going for it. To be sure, I felt what they were talking about. I also understood what they meant when they said if they mentioned their feelings at all, other Denver-dwellers became irate, indignant, and offended. Hmpf. Not a place I’ll ever be living in, but I’m glad we got to pass through and see it for ourselves.


Next Time, It’s For Cash Money

So there we are, in Denver, two drinks into a great Friday. SB and RB are some poker playing fools. They convince us to go and play a hand with them. I have no idea what to expect. I play poker with people I know, and that doesn’t usually end well. MK thinks it’s funny to let everyone know that he always ends up having to try to make up for my losses. Whatever. We get there right at the last minute before they start. There are three tables set up, about 36 people. RB’s already seated, someone goes all in first hand, SB sits. MK and I have a drink, while I get more and more nervous. Someone else goes out, MK’s at SB’s table. I’m feeling ill. And confused. They seat me at RB’s table. That’s cool. I don’t play my first 6000 hands, they all suck. I finally see a face card and get excited. The rest is history.

First I knocked out Mr. Johnny Pokers-a-lot, with sunglasses and a cowboy hat and the whole deal. He didn’t believe me. Silly man. I progressively smoked the table as my hands got hotter and hotter. It was like being in a movie. They split up one of the smaller tables and I get stuck next to this tool that’s all trying to intimidate me out of my blinds. Grr. Then my hands cool off so I chill out. I make it to the last table – at this point RB is long gone, SB can’t believe I’m still alive, and she and MK went and played some Omaha. Last table is nuts. Everyone is boys, minus me and a blond lady. She and I all in, knock a guy out, and split the pot!!

You know where this is going: I now am the proud owner of a certificate stating that I made it to the last hand, against mullet head that took down MK and SB, and smote her greatly with my trip Jacks. YEEHAH!!!!


I really can’t decide to quit while my record is 1-0, or to move to Vegas. I’ve never beat 30+ people at anything. Ever.

I also can’t decide if I’m going to ever talk to my father again – avid watcher of poker on TV, also avid ignorer of happy daughter when she calls to announce her success. The reason? The Red Sox beat the Yankees, of course. Baseball trumps daughter.

I’m Back

Well, somegosoftly fans, we first have to give thestandin a big round of applause for keeping you (and me) entertained. I was so happy to be blog free for a while, even though I had a little internet-withdrawal-syndrome. I have to do this in date/time order, or I will get all confused, even though today was the best! day! yet! and I can’t wait to tell you about it. My little fingers are flying to get us all caught up and on the same page. Of course the pictures will be late, I have no idea where the cord is.

We left Austin at about 6am on Thursday. We went to bed around midnight. I had cleaned the whole place so well we had no where to sleep. I thought I could throw the air mattress on the wood floor of our living room, but somewhere between MK’s toss and turn 3 and 7 I realized I’d be up all night from the squeaking unless that went back in the bedroom, despite the marks it’d make on my carpet, after vacuuming in these little perfect sweeps so they could see how clean it was. We actually woke up at about 5, and had this adventure time of not being awake and not being able to get everything in the car. It’s too embarrassing, so there are no pictures, but we seriously put that car full like a secret Mensa puzzle. You couldn’t do it. It was crazy. We have so. much. crap.

MK drove to Wichita Falls, Texas. I didn’t know there was one of those. In fact, I didn’t know that every town has similar street names, and every state has similar county names. Let me preface this segment with a little background: I’ve lived in CT most of my natural life. This included numerous trips through MA, RI, VT, NH and ME. But it’s not like I paid any attention. I was little. Then I lived in TX, Austin to be specific. All you travel from there is Houston and Dallas. So this drive…this going through parts of Texas I’ve never been awake for… well it made me realize things. Like why people look at me LIKE THAT when I tell them that I’m from Texas. Ugh. I drove nine hours straight. Amarillo, everything before it and after it – well I’m fairly sure that’s the armpit of civilization as we know it. It was frightening. To stop for gas. To eat. To LOOK AROUND. Freaking gross, nothing to look at, forsaken place. And I almost forgot to mention that after the TX/OK border, I hit the NM border in style…thinking it would be beautiful…and it was under construction. The speed limit was 35. For an hour. Then 45. For an hour. Ugh.

As you will recall, the first part of our trip included a very special stop in Denver, CO, home to some very special people. MK finished the drive to Denver, and we got in at about midnight. Since we were staying at the SB all inclusive resort, I immediately requested a back rub and a beer. I got the beer. Then we passed out – sleepy time. Then it was FRIDAY…That morning – busted, around noon – we went to the VIP eatery those of you that were in ‘yoga’ with me may know that the Real World Denver went to called Snooze. It was dee-lish-ious. Wow.


SB took us to her work, right down the street. Ladies and gentlemen, my favorite roommate ever- probably including MK- works at a THINK TANK. You’ve seen them. She has a bball court and a ping pong table and limitless other recreational activities located throughout the office to ‘inspire creative thought’. My creative thought is jealousy. I want to work there. But not live in Denver. More on that later. We went to the Denver Aquarium.


As an ode to my father, Semi-Professional African Cichlid Breeder, I was reflecting on the fact I think I’ve been to every aquarium in every city that I’ve ever visited that had one. Paris (France, not Texas) is the only place I couldn’t recall trying to find the local aquarium in. Anyway…it was a nice little aquarium and it also surprised me, since I’ve been to so many aquariums, as it had



I know. That’s crazy, right? They were chillin’ around the rainforest exhibit. That’s all I can say about that. I’m thinking “Are you sure these guys are supposed to be here?”

This is us and a 250lb. grouper:


Ooooh, and I almost forgot to tell you that we fed stingrays:

All that exploring made us thirsty, so we hit up some bars. We went to a place called Sputnik for nothing other than the promise of an old time photo booth, which turned out to be out of order. 😦 Luckily, we found so much more. MK had a fascinating Vanilla infused homemade vodka shot, SB went with a pomegranate martini the likes of which I’d never seen. (I had a beer.) Yum.


We rolled over to The Hornet next, to see what we could see about the rumor they had a all day weekend Bloody Mary Bar the like of which I’ve mentioned here. We had yummy drinks here too, and some lobster asparagus and something else I forget what pizza. (SB?)

The events that transpire next are rewarded with their own post.

Joseph Smith, teetotalers, and sacred underwear, oh my!

The husband and I have been living in the Texas heat for a combined total of 41 years. Rather than becoming acclimated to living in the moist oven that is Austin, Texas from April through October, our bodies have reached a point of critical thermal mass. We can take it no longer! And so, this July, we will be making the most of a 26-foot Penske truck and moving to the land of Big Love… Utah. That’s right you dirty polygamists, we’re headed your way!

When we tell people about our plans, to a soul they respond with some variation of the question: “But, you’re not Mormon, are you?” The answer is no, we are Catholic– and although we may not attend mass weekly, I was raised in Catholic schools and have attended so many masses, vigils, rosaries and reenactments of Christ’s crucifixion that I could probably remain a shut-in for the next ten years and still come out ahead of most “good” Catholics. Yes, we know that Utah is infested with proselytizing Mormons. So why move there? It’s simple. SNOW.

Yet, I must admit, the inevitable materialization of pair after pair of young aryan men knocking on our door to inquire upon the state of our relationship with “Father” is somewhat disconcerting. How do we go about telling them, politely, that they can take the tainted Kool-Aid elsewhere? “Take us off your list?” “No thanks, you can give our seats on the Mother-ship to some other deserving couple.” “Nice suit. My cell-mate used to dress up for me sorta like that…. Wanna come in?”

*LEGAL DISCLAIMER: The views expressed in this excellently written post are not the views of Somegosoftly and Somegosoftly takes no responsibility for anything offensive or immoral that may be contained herein. Any similarity to actual Mormons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Comments or complaints regarding this post may be directed to: 123 Crybaby Lane, Sissyville 98765.*

She’ll be watching Law & Order two hours earlier…

Somegosoftly has reached Seattle! I know you are all atwitter, anxious to hear about the journey and first impressions of the new habitat, but CK needs her rest. The best part of this post, I’m sure, is the resulting fact that you will no longer be subjected to my amateur attempts at blogging…. Except maybe one more…..

Thou shalt not neglect thy friend’s blog.

Okay, so maybe I wasn’t the best choice to act as steward of somegosoftly during CK’s road-trip. I failed to post yesterday, leaving somegosoftly’s dedicated readers to fend for themselves in cyberspace on the one day of the week when employers actually expect you to spend more time surfing the internet than working: Friday.

Instead of crafting something interesting, amusing or thought-provoking to publish on my good friend’s blog, I spent Friday cleaning my house from top to bottom in anticipation of the arrival of Very Special Friends from Dallas whom we haven’t seen in over a year. So much has changed in the year since we’ve seen the VSFfDs… the most notable is that we have created a new little person who lives with us and fills our days with sunshine and laughter. The VSFfDs have no children, and I feared the sight of my house — strewn with noisy, colorful toys, piles of laundry and dirty dishes, and elsewhere blanketed with a thick layer of dust — might forever postpone any plans they had of procreating. Hence Friday’s marathon house-cleaning project.

Toilets scrubbed to sparkling perfection, floors swiffered and mopped, all laundry folded and hidden away, I finally put my feet up and opened a beer. Too tired, I mumbled, too tired to blog tonight. Three beers later, I crawled into bed and fell fast asleep, confident that the VSFfDs would arrive tomorrow and think I was the perfect wife and mother– Just look at these toilets! they would exclaim, I think we could eat off of them!

Alas, no happy dreams awaited me. Instead, I woke with a start in the middle of the night, heart pounding and overwhelmed by guilt. You see, I dreamt that a lonely somegosoftly reader, distraught by the absence of a Friday post, had decided to shrug off this mortal coil… her suicide note: an eloquent goodbye posted as a comment on this blog. To that poor soul I can only say I’m sorry you had to die… but God are my toilets clean!

Bon Voyage

If I was a color, today I would be blue. The day has finally come when our dear friends pack their car and begin their cross-country trek to the Evergreen State. We joined CK and MK for one last lunch Wednesday at Ski Shores, where we reveled in the sunshine and the sight of little kids (okay, us too) throwing bread and french fries to the fish and turtles just off the dock. I was able to fight off tears only by imagining the screaming fits CK and MK will likely have whilst trapped in the front of their over-stuffed SUV for the next five days. If only they had a video in the dashboard a la Oprah and Gayle. I’m not saying it would be a chronicle of the demise of their marriage, but if MK shows up in Seattle with only nine fingers, for instance, will we ever know the truth?

Here are a few of the things that I will miss the most:

1. Sitting in the meat-locker that is Rudy’s on 620, scarfing down brisket and sausage, while MK and BB talk shop, CK picks at chicken and we complain about the latest dumb things our husband/neighbor/Rosie O’Donnell did/said.

2. Sitting at Freebird’s, doing much the same as in No. 1.

3. Making plans to meet up with the K’s, which always involved a minimum of nineteen phone calls, of which MK only answered two. I still don’t understand this ritual, since we only ever met at Rudy’s or Freebird’s, but I’ll miss it nonetheless.

4. Having my eardrums assaulted alternately by a) the screaming toddler who, when not released for a beating, apparently lives in a cage upstairs of the K’s apartment, and b) the Rave music CK played to drown out Satan’s spawn.

5. Knowing someone who can fix my camera and teach me all sorts of nifty tricks, without whom I would not be able to share pics like this:


These things may sound lame and not worth shedding a tear over, but what it all amounts to is that our best friends are gone, and we already miss them. If all goes well, they’ll be in Denver by tomorrow morning. Wish them luck!