Thursday, February 28, 2008

Panera, Panhandlers & the Ebele Birthday Bash with Trivia Death Match!

So while this post might not be about much music, the soundtrack of the weekend remained The National, Dax Riggs and EAOD, as the albums continued to play on repeat in my head...even when my mind shouldn't have been on music (I blame lengthy conversations with Luke about certain playlists for this.)

On my way out of Hoboken Sunday morning, I called Cam, as his little brother TJ adores Panera and I was going to pass it anyway. We sneakily found out that TJ should be around his apartment and I grabbed his favorites and began the long trek all over Manhattan. The day was beautiful, so I decided to walk from the PATH to TJ's at 8th and 48th. Popped in, and true to my nature as the crazy girl who will do anything for a good laugh or story, met TJ for the first time to deliver his favorite foods. It was a bit surreal to meet him after hearing stories all these years, meeting their parents and going to their houses in Chicago and Scottsdale. He sounded just like Cam, but had a different build than I'd expected. It was great to finally meet him and he'll have to get used to my invasions of their apartment when Cam moves here for school in the fall.

From there, I continued my walk to Keri's on the Upper East Side, where I'd left my stuff from the painting extravaganza the day before. Snuck into her place and was again jealous that I don't live in the city. (Note to self: start researching apartment options in my favorite boroughs and Jersey--Ellen would be so proud of me for a move to Jersey.) Jumped on the train and headed down to Union Square for the Ebele Birthday Bash.

I still needed to pick up some alcohol, so I went into a gourmet deli with high hopes of finding something. While the staff was unable to help, a panhandler (his word, not mine) in the store excitedly offered to guide me to a liquor store (no comments please, we're progressive here). He took me to one store that was closed, then guided me to a warehouse, where he waited for me while I made my purchase, then took me right back to where we began. He was a very nice and talkative and I went to tip him at the end, but he seemed to enjoy the walk and talk more than wanting anything. This may seem strange, but is turning into a typical occurence for me.

Ebele's party was great. The food was awesome and the trivia questions were so Ebele, not to mention the enthusiasm behind each delivery! She split everyone into teams from the phases of her life and Team Blue was ready to play...even if everyone else thought we were cheaters!

Luke, Justin A. (his nickname, not mine), me, Jenn and Tim. Where's Sam Berg?

The contest started and we realized that we were screwed when the first two questions were about the Academy Awards and America's Top Model. We did get a sports question and Tim proved that his English degree was worth something through his knowledge of Roman gods. The death stares and yelling continued throughout the game, from our mortal enemies--The Orange Team!

Team Orange was out to get us or anyone that stood in their way and they certainly weren't smiling during the game. Well, except for my favorite team member who was genuinely woried about our well-being.

Each question was prefaced with Ebele's enthusiastic intos and some random anecdotes, here and there (that I won't be sharing--you should've been there, Sam!) And have you not noticed the team sashes? Throw a sash on us and Team Blue becomes very serious...well, except for Jenn, but at least Luke's eyes are open.

We didn't win the game and are sticking to the story that we threw the final question in order to escape the party with our lives. It was a great weekend that had me walking all over manhattan, brooklyn and hoboken, but I made some fun concert friends, caught up with some of my favorites and managed to squeeze a few hours of sleep in there.

I'm closing with a video I shot from The National's show, which I might have already posted, but what's a posting without some youtube? (And I'm too sleepy to worry about it.)

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