First Shots, Hold the Pickle

VCU, we have a love/hate relationship with you.

A group of us at the bar at 821 cafe were discussing how glorious the city is these days with the students gone.

Walking, biking and driving are exponentially easier than when school's in session. Certain restaurants (like 821) become accessible in a way that they aren't most of the time.

Which is exactly how my friend and I ended up there for lunch today. That and we were both starving.

We're one of those rare couples where the female orders the regular Coke and the male wants the diet version.

But he also uses the carcinogenic pink packets for his coffee, so there's really no hope for him.

I tried to talk him into sharing the black bean nachos with me but he was hankering for a burger, so with an order for both we were guaranteed more food than any two people could need or eat at one sitting.

And not just any burger, but the Union burger with Swiss, bacon, Portobellos and fried onion rings. The thing sat up about 5" high.

I teased him by calling it a heart attack on a plate, which is not to say it wasn't incredibly delicious.

One of the servers greeted me with, "Long time no see," a crack on us both having been at the same dinner party last week and then, rolling her eyes, told me she knew that I'd order the nachos.

Just call me Karen, the predictable.

From a few stools down, I heard, "So, did you enjoy the ballet?" and, lo and behold, there was the scientist having a massive Friday breakfast.

Who has two large glasses of orange juice at one sitting?

We indulged in a little "Nutcracker" nerdiness about what we'd seen.

We talked about our New Year's Eve plans with him saying he goes to a Northside party that always includes fireworks, a bonfire and gunshots fired at midnight.

I admitted that I had never heard of those NYE traditions until moving to RVA but now look forward to the sound of shots to ring in the new year.

As my friend and I shared the nachos and burger, we talked about what Santa had brought us, including the bottle of rum his sister had given him.

He doesn't drink. Merry Christmas.

That doesn't stop him from scanning the back bar (he is a bartender, after all) and we both wondered about a gaudy bottle which turned out to be pickle-flavored vodka.

Repulsive as it sounded, we were assured it makes stellar Bloody Marys, not that either of us drink them. Or vodka at all, for that matter.

We totaled about 2/3 of the nachos and half the burger before throwing in the towel and making plans to start the new year with a first together.

Leaving 821, I said hello to a couple of musician friends sitting in a booth and looking like they were enjoying their Friday feast as much as we had.

If they'd decided to open their mouths and start singing, I'd have sat down on the floor to listen.

It's not that VCU doesn't bring much of what I love to the city's fabric. It's just kind of special when the city is down to just us regulars.

And many of them are friends. As 2011 winds down, I raise my glass of Coke to them all.

Resolved to Stay Skewed

I've never been the type to make New Year's resolutions; if something in my life needed addressing, why wait for a holiday to change it?

I attributed my attitude to general complacency but perhaps I'd just reached the age where I pretty much was what I was and trying to change would have been futile.

That is, until this year. Back last January, I got pneumonia and by that, I don't mean walking pneumonia or bacterial pneumonia, I mean weeks of of being sick before being put on a week of complete bed rest, followed by five days in the Intensive Care Unit.

I lost over a month of my life.

Not long before that, I had done a thorough cleaning on an old, unfinished closet in a mid-19th century house and inhaled something to which I'd had an asthmatic reaction which degenerated into pneumonia (the pulmonary specialist thought it most likely to have been bird or rodent droppings that caused it).

In any case, the result was me being sicker than I've ever been in my entire life.

What was interesting about the whole experience was that I came out of it Changed with a capital C.

I don't know if it was a physiological reaction or just the reminder of my mortality, but I wasn't the same person once I recovered.

Habits of a lifetime went away.

Things that I used to avoid became part of my regular routine.

Judgments about choices changed.

My openness to people was altered.

Even my physical self has morphed into something different than what it was before.

And people have noticed.

Comments have been made to me about the changes in everything from my punctuality to my drinking to my breasts.

Oh, yes, and the differences in my eating habits, my optimism and my lifestyle. And the list goes on.

So given all the alterations in who I am now, I think I will make a blanket resolution, not just for 2009, but for life.

Resolved: I've accepted who I've become even if it seldom resembles who I was for most of my life.

For better or for worse, it looks like Version 2.0 is what I'll be going with from here on out.

You got a problem with that?

Ringing in the New Year at Ipanema

I was hoping that last night's blue moon would signal an auspicious start to 2010 after my disastrous 2009, but first I had to find something to do for the changeover.

Since I haven't been in town for NYE since 2004, I was at a loss.

Fortunately for me, Kendra at Ipanema decided to close the restaurant and throw a Shanghai Surprise themed evening and I was invited to join the hijinks.

I spent the late afternoon helping to transform the restaurant into an Asian den of inequity, draping gauzy fabric around the booths to create intimate alcoves, hanging Chinese lanterns from the already precariously low ceiling and covering the walls in intricate paper cut-outs.

The front area was cleared for the dancing masses and everything was set.

When I arrived back around 9ish, guests were already gathering.

Cam from Denali was DJing and dim sum covered the back tables. It was to be a great party with plenty of good people to talk to.

Hugel was there with his Christmas camera and we talked extensively about the year in music;

Andrew of Makeout Creek and the former occupant of my apartment compared notes with me on the J-Ward life and I had some great music and blogging talk with Nicole, the Food Punk blogger from NYC.

One of the best parts of the party was seeing such a dressed up crowd at Ipanema, definitely not the usual RVA attire.

I was totally impressed by how wonderful some of the guys looked in their tuxes and cutaways.

It's not often you see the local men looking so fine. Well done, gentlemen.

When the clock struck midnight, DJ Cambot launched into "Thriller" and the dancing began as soon as the champagne was swallowed; 2010 got an enthusiastic welcome from us all.

By the time I left, you could still hear the occasional celebratory gunshot in the distance but the moon was pretty much obscured by the clouds.

But once in a blue moon, you get what you really want, so I started 2010 with high hopes for happiness.

Let the year unfold.