Of Arena Football and Swahili Phrasebooks

Sometimes you actively have to try to make your weekends happen... and other times things just fall into your lap. Last night was one of the latter. The Chicago Rush game was a pretty good time. Arena football reminds me of watching a high school football game: lots of guys who seem to be playing somewhat out of their position based on body type and athletic ability. Anyway, there were several highlights of the evening both on and off the football field. We get to the Allstate Arena and take our seats behind a rather rowdy local high school football team who's coach apparently plays for the New York Dragons. It's always fun watching a game with people who for one inexplicable reason or another are emotionally invested in the outcome. Jenny got rather agitated about something at one point and tossed some of her beer on me followed by Kathryn making a comment that caused Jenny to spew the rest of her posse with the EtOH in her mouth. I'll take fresh beer on the clothes over backwash on the head anyday. King High School's marching band was in the house and they did a pretty nice rendition of "Don't Phunk With My Heart" and followed that with one of the numbers from Drumline. I found out that Jenny has seen Drumline about 10 times; and I thought my love for the movie was excessive. The Rush ended up losing the game on the last play: they were down 4 and driving from about the 3 yard line with 9 seconds left. The play looked like a bust, but somehow the QB managed to wrangle his way around a few NY defenders and scored as time ran out. But then the flags game out and the refs called a 'block to the back' penalty on one of the Rush's offensive lineman. Game Over. More excitement than any NFL game I've ever attended. Still not touching a Duke-Carolina game in Cameron.

Afterwards we headed to the car and here I have to give some love to the Rosemont PD. Best traffic management I've ever seen with 15,000 people all trying to leave the same place at once. We didn't wait in a line at all. Good on them. After we got back home we headed to Arturo's for some much needed margaritas and mexican. Some friends of Kathryn's were throwing an early birthday party for her so Reuben and I tracked that down (Alex begged off because of a wondrous work obligation early the next morning). I wish I could tell the whole, sordid story of what happened at that party, but let's just say in a two hour time span it managed to run the gamut of "Let's steal some liqour and blow this pop stand" to "We can't leave yet, I've put in too much time to leave empty handed." That's all I'll say. I'm not gonna blow up anyone's spot on a blog. But I will say it was by far the best house party I've been to since finishing undergrad. The Unintentional Comedy Scale topped over 100 several times.

The agenda for tonight is getting some more Pathology done, grabbing a burger (Alex is experiencing a red meat craze or she's iron deficient... fielder's choice), and heading over to Sam's to partake in their 6 pack sale.

Even if you don't like reggae I've got to say DJ Eleven's mix (see the Lemon-Red link in the Feb 2 post) might change your mind. I don't think it's possible to listen to good reggae and not imagine yourself inna JA during the balmy yet beautiful summer. Which is a far better mental picture than the dreariness of Chicago in February.