Hello again, ye olde city of wind

I recently visited my old stompin' grounds for a quick weekend visit. Considering it lasted less than 48 hours, I was able to pack in some fun.

I got into the city around 7 p.m. Friday, June 6, just enough time to slam a couple of cold ones with my lady friends and eat some french fries with curry dippin' sauce at Tuman's before heading off to see "Sex & the City." Awfully cliche, I know, but when I first moved to the city, we would gather at Lizzie and April's apartment to watch it -- I think I moved in time to see maybe one regular episode and the series finale.

After the movie, we eventually found ourselves meeting up with their man friends on Lizzie's back porch -- the site of many debaucherous nights.





The next day after some running around (including a quick consult with boob-master and good friend Lauren at Isabella Fine Lingerie) and a quick nap to get rid of my Miller Lite, humidity and lack-of-sleep headache, I was ready for the big event. The very first birthday of one of my boyfriends, Echo Alexander.

Yep. He's really that cute.

As you can see from his shirt, he was killin some watermelon that day. Little did we know, that was nothing.



Echo's ability to turn a lovely cake, decorated by his mom, Sally, into totally chaos in under 2.4 seconds was astounding. Somehow, we all lived to tell the tale.

Step 1. Sit down with baby.



Step 2. Sit back in awe.



Step 3. Rinse baby off in rain and hold on tight as he slips into a sugar coma.



After the birthday fun and dragging Sal's tired ass out the door, she, Jenn and I headed to the Metro to see one of my favorite bands of all time, The Smoking Popes. It was their CD release show -- the first CD they've released in many years. I saw them a few times before I moved, but I absolutely had to go to their CD release show since it was happening and I was there.



We were able to meet up with our good friend and former bar manager, Chris, who happened to go to high school with the Caterer brothers. While I was in the bathroom, Sal scored me a VIP pass, so I was able to watch the show from a vantage point where I could actually -- gasp -- see (the Metro is not good for seeing in general).

It was Chris' birthday weekend. He was very drunk and made us laugh.

All in all, I'd say the weekend was a success, other than the fact that as I was leaving Sally's house early the next morning I fell, ripping open my left knee, causing blood to gush down my leg, and leaving a long piece of skin hanging off my right knee. Instead of risking waking the baby and the dog going into a barking fit when I rang the doorbell, I choose to take my gimpy self to Starbucks for some coffee and napkins, as logic told me was really the only option I had.

At least this was one of the last things I saw before my knees (still recovering) met their demise...





...and I got to listen to my new CD all the way home.