I nearly missed the dinner party tonite for Jane and George's birthdays, and that would have been a shame. First of all, Number One Son - He Who Doesn't Call Me - called. We did a lot of catching up, talked for close to an hour or so. Our last conversation had been fairly acrimonious, so I chatted right up til the last minute, and with 30 minutes to get downtown to a 7:30pm reservation I headed out.
Unfortunately, there was a police vs asshole standoff from about 3pm until close to midnight, right in the middle of the route I needed to travel to make the 15 minute drive to the restaurant. The Ballard Bridge was closed off [the standoff was actually in the neighborhood of the Wet Spot, just south of that bridge], and it took me over 30 minutes just to get through greater beautiful Fremont to the Queen Anne area, and on to Belltown, and what with poor [and expensive] parking choices and the friggin restaurant not being exactly where Georgette's email had said it was, I arrived just as the antipasto was finishing up and just prior to the arrival of the main platters.
Once I was there the dinner was well worth the effort. My name was on a seat between Panther and Natasha, across from Viktor, Derek, Annika, and Mistress Matisse . Jane and Jim, Georgette and George and James and his lovely lady and half a dozen other good friends. It was fun at one point trying to count up how many of the kinky Pacific Northwest diarists were sitting there. It'll be even more fun seeing how many versions of the dinner arrive eventually online.
As with anything to do with food that Georgette has anything to do with, dinner was exquisite. The conversations were fun and it was hard to keep track of all the threads going on at any one time. Meeting friends for a pleasant lighthearted encounter, at a new venue, friends who you normally only encounter in the dungeon or the boudoir or whatever... it's an experience that should be repeated more often.
Natasha was kind enough to give me a ride up the hills and around to the far and away parking lot I'd left my car in, and I headed on out. Close to the still-in-progress police standoff one officer gave me directions to a dark zig-zaggy shortcut through Queen Anne Hill and I made it on home in good order.
Multi-tasking again, I boiled a chicken down for soup stock, cooked a 3 1/2 pound corned beef, and did a bit of website review. And, of course, once the late night reruns of Unhappily Ever After on Fox ran out I plopped in Blues Brothers 2000, then Driving Miss Daisy [talk about an Ackroyd dichotomy!], Blue Streak and then Guns of Navarone.
I'll be heading off to bed shortly, but am trying to get ahold of da blond first, to confirm our tentative date for blood and sluthood this evening.
Dinner tonite was a perfect example of how and why I'll continue to insist that life is good.
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