Friday morning Hangover

Dominic — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 09:32:00 -0600

LOUD ANNOYING SOUND. (stupid alarm clock. smash.)

Light. (why did I open my eyes?)

Pain. (ugh. what’s that all about?)

Yes. I woke up with a hangover this morning. After one glass of wine last night. (Clearly my tolerance is, well, non-existant.)

But I had a great time. Because last night was my 27th* birthday celebration — the invitation set the tone for the evening:

We’re celebrating Dominic’s 27th^* birthday with dinner at NoRTH!

Our friend is getting older,
It’s time for us to say:
“Happy Birthday, Dominic!”
In the nicest way.
So we’re taking him to dinner
Because we all like food-
NoRTH’s the place he’s picked to go
Because it tastes so good!
Our friend he has requested,
That rather than a gift,
You bring a piece of powetwy
To grace our dinner with!
So come meet us on Thursday next,
One half-hour before eight-
And please we ask you - for Dom’s sake -
Oh please, just don’t be late!

There was much merriment had — it was wonderful to spend the evening with some great friends. Several people also brought poems, just as Emily had requested in the invitation.

Kelly and Marianne spent the time waiting for us to be seated to write their own little impromptu poem:

Dom, you used to be my neighbor…
That’s so cool, did you play with light sabers?
But then you up and moved, and I was sad.
Ah man, why’d you have to make her feel so bad?
And then you went and bought a big-ass truck…
Whoa, you just made Kelly Kemp say “ass”… what the f….
… but I’m still glad you’re my friend.
Alas, this poem must come to an end.

The food was delicious. (If anyone wants to go back there again for dinner, please let me know. I’ll be happy to come along for company. ;) Since we had reservations and it still took a while to get us seated, we were given a number of free appetizers when we first sat down. the Bruschetta with whatever was on it was DELICIOUS! (As was pretty much everything else there. Yumm.)

Krista brought the next poem — Spring, by Gerard Manley Hopkins:

NOTHING is so beautiful as spring—
  When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
  Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;
  The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush
  The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.

What is all this juice and all this joy?
  A strain of the earth’s sweet being in the beginning
In Eden garden.—Have, get, before it cloy,
  Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,
Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,
  Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning.

Dessert was just as good as the meal — alas, the Tiramisu had too much caffeine in it, and I was unable to finish it without staying up all night.

All in all this goes down in history as one of the best birthdays I’ve had. Thank you so much all of you that came, it is truly a blessing to be surrounded by you guys.

(^* Actual age may vary.)

dominic eidson: Tag dontdrinkagain

Friday morning Hangover