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Below, a digest of my weekend.

The husband delighted me with tickets to the Red Sox/Yankees game on Friday. We rejoiced through most of the game and became friends with the only Sox fans sitting nearby--a man wearing a Nomar Garciaparra shirt and his young Sox-jersey clad son. We watched the father lean over to explain certain plays to the boy, and the boy learning to high-five with his baseball glove on.

It's the second time I was able to witness a Red Sox grand slam live - a most welcome sight at Yankees Stadium.

And now a comparison: this is a photo of me when we first arrived at the ballpark, excited to be at a game. Then there is a photo of Jesse and I (taken by the Garciaparra fan) after the game. When I'm over-excited, my smile shrinks my eyes to oblivion. Or perhaps it was all the beer?

When we arrived back in Brooklyn flush with pride (and beer) for our team, not even subway-replacing hellish shuttle buses could deplete our energy. We decided to walk home through the streets of Brooklyn. This photo encapsulates how great the scenic route on a Friday night in Brooklyn can be:

Saturday I traversed Brooklyn in the shuttles to meet up with friends, and because it was a terrible experience, I'd rather not even think about it again nor discuss it here.

But my friends are another story. I laughed so much throughout the day, usually with a glass of wine in hand. At one point we gathered at my friend Amber's lovely home and discussed new jobs and tree snakes and eyebrow shaping.

These two recently began new positions and they were comparing their respective acclimations here:

Then we went to a bar, and the ensuing fun and BFF'ing can be summarized in the quietest moment of the night:

I crawled into bed with a smile, fielded a call from a girlfriend with a boy problem, handed off sage advice I hope, and texted Jesse goodnight since he was still out with all my girls' better halves. This strategy works well; when we tell the guys we're having a ladies night, suddenly a dudes night is scheduled.

Today was an (at first) exciting day of football. However, my fantasy teams both languished and the Patriots were not looking too good. In other news, I re-shaped my eyebrows, or, rather attempted to re-shape my eyebrows and let's all hope for the best.

This week I hope for good news on all angles and a quieter week at work.

I'll draw on the wall and you can play UFC rookie.

Last night we gathered in the East Village apartment like we were still middle schoolers. Jesse and I rode the subway from Brooklyn prepared with a board game and two bottles of wine for a nice evening in with some good friends.

However, once we arrived and started catching up, Kelly, Amber, and I just kept going with the conversation amongst ourselves. We leaned against the countertops in the kitchen sipping red wine and nibbling on peccorino cheese. We screeched our exclamations and whispered our more salacious news. We discussed Manti T'eo, Lance Armstrong, Matt Lauer, Ann Curry, and Joss Whedon. We moved to Amber's bedroom and talked bedroom talk, laughing to the point where no noise comes out -- like we do. We took pictures and talked about the internet and generations and getting old and how crotchety we were going to be. We went to Kelly's bedroom and watched an old video of the three of us from college with tearful laughter. Amber is moving out of the apartment they share next weekend, and Kelly commemorated their time living together by giving her half a heart drawing. It was sweet; there were tears.

And where were the husbands? Parked in front of the television with beers and a video game, laughing on their own. What was supposed to be a fun, little co-ed game night turned into the women talking for hours (a task easy for us three) and the dudes pretending they were NFL football teams. We laughed on opposite sides of the room, occasionally throwing sideways glances at each other. We should have passed notes.

Jesse and I left much too late for a week night; we didn't have parents waiting up at home. We smiled at each other on the ride home, recounting our night to each other even though we spent it in the same place. I'm a little tired today at work, but it's always worth it to have laughed a whole night away with your best friends in the entire world.

Everything I got in my cabinet brain.

Drinking tea, also part of my prescription.

I'm on day three of antibiotics, and the good news is that the supposed superinfection seems to have abated the pressure in one of my ears. The other ear, not so much.

The bad news is that I cannot visit my family this weekend since the stress of traveling and a party wouldn't be too conducive to the whole 'relaxing' thing I'm supposed to try. It's quite a sad day since a small group of my family from Panama just flew in to stay for the month. I'm bummed I won't be there this weekend, but I will definitely see them when they visit New York later in the month, and hopefully I can get another weekend home.

Still, sadface.

And also, Sickface.

Last night, in keeping with my prescription, my friend Amber came over and we watched The Loneliest Planet which was just added to Netflix Instant. It starts out with a shot that immediately begs about ten questions, and then it's all lush landscapes and eeriness and two or three moments. It's a meditative movie, and one that makes you think afterwards--maybe about relationships or trust or the meaning of being alone. It was okay; beautifully directed, but almost too restrained to fill two hours.

 

There have been a lot of movies I've wanted to see added to Netflix Instant (Oslo August 31st, Take This Waltz, etc.), coupled that with the handful of movies I got for Christmas, and you can probably guess what I'll be doing this weekend. Also, I'll probably finally post about my 2012 in books and film!

Funny story about my desk at home (where I write most of these posts, and where I'm pictured above, last night) -- for some reason my cat Pee Wee just loves to sit in my lap while I do computer stuff. It's real weird. He sits on my lap at other times, but as soon as I'm in my desk chair he scurries over and then jumps right up and usually I have to hold up either his butt or his chin to his comfort (he's a bit spoiled). So here he is last night:

He makes me feel like an evil genius while I read the internet.

He got so mad when I kicked him out so I could type this up! That is all. Here's to Friday and a full recovery this weekend, hopefully!