Late Night Out

Spell insomnia.

L-I-S-A.

No caffeine. No uppers. Nothing to keep me awake.

But I can’t sleep.

N-I-C-K, on the other hand is snoring louder than our beloved space heater in our bedroom.

Happy Valentine’s Day! And instead of getting a nice rest and putting Friday the 13th to bed, I am up, writing, blogging, brainstorming possible article topics because I can’t sleep. I think the culprits are the two pieces of Ghirarhdelli chocolate I had five hours ago. For those that don’t know, I rarely eat chocolate. (I heart vanilla.) I don’t drink caffeine. And so, when I take a moment or two to indulge, my heart goes a little something like, “HEY! WHAT’S THIS? LET’S SEE HOW FAST I CAN PUMP BLOOD AND KEEP HER AWAKE!”

And my mind follows suit with, “HEY! LET’S THINK ABOUT WHAT I WANT TO GET DONE TOMORROW, WHAT I DIDN’T GET TO DO TODAY, WHAT I WANT FOR MY BIRTHDAY, HOW I WILL GET TO THE POST OFFICE BEFORE NOON, DON’T FORGET TO BUY GOAT CHEESE AT FRESH MARKET.”

And I waaaant to sleep, but can’t.

Nick and I returned home at – grab the sides of your computer screens – 1:30am.

GET OUT! I’m not lying.

It’s like 2001 without college drama.

We met up with Books (aka Matt Thomas), his leading lady Janet, and our two friends Sam and Laura at a wine bar about 20 minutes from our house. It was one of those situations where you have no idea who everyone else is at the table (there were at least 8 other folks all crowded with us) for someone’s birthday, but you don’t have the capacity/energy/motivation to talk, so you just smile and mooch off their cheese plate.

Well, that’s what I did anyway.

Afterward, we got all kick ass crazy and went to Panini’s, a bar with 89% John Carroll students and I felt like the only female within 15 miles not wearing a black top (aka typical bar attire). So much opportunity for people watching. Why wish to go back to college days when you have the real thing right in front of you?

“I don’t think I have to relive anything from college. I can just walk into the bathroom of any bar and find a drunk, crying, grasping her cell phone 20s something gal who is going through exactly what I went through eight years ago.”
– my comment to Nick at approximately 12:30am

“Do you remember in college when you saw that it was 12:30am and thought, ‘Maybe it’s time to head out to Dana’s?’ and now it’s like, ‘Get me out of this place. I want to go to bed.'” – Nick’s comment to me at 12:31am

Regardless, it was a marvelous time and it was good to show that we’re not completely old and gray and still kicking it.

Although, if you need further proof that we have graduated from young sprigs to oaks and cypresses, here is my newest thought:

The biggest evidence that I am old is that when I was out and about in college and decided not to didn’t drink, my friends would pat me on the back and say, “Pretty bad hangover, huh?” Now when I go out, someone will glance at my water and say out of the corner of their mouth, “Probably pregnant.