Parenthetical Monday Edition (also "the Sports Page")

Well, it was a busy fucking weekend in this fair city of ours.

1. Friday night under the lights at "the Bobby."

Who calls RFK "the Bobby"? I don't know, but I do know that on Friday night the Nats beat those evil Mets. It still feels very sweet to actually watch the "home" team in front of a home crowd. (WaPo reports that the Nats rank 13th in attendance, and the announced attendance for Friday was over 30,000. However, there were an awful lot of empty seats for a stadium that was supposedly at 2/3 capacity.)

2. Last time it happened, I was 7. And they were the Bullets. And it was at the Cap Center.

I was on hand to witness the Wizards win their first playoff game in 17 years! The crowd was really into it, and the game was exciting to the end. Well, as long as you like seeing the Wiz win their first playoff game in 17 years, it was exciting to the end. (And yes, I got to see all of the action. Being in the very last row at the MCI Center is not as bad as you might think. And for $15 I'll be back there for Game 6. Although maybe not as many $7 Miller Lites.)

3. Red Sage Cafe after the game.

Ummm, maybe would have been better if I'd had fewer of the aforementioned Miller Lites, but I don't think so. Food was OK, but overpriced. Margaritas were better, but even more overpriced ($32 a pitcher. We definitely did not need the second pitcher.). (I will not be returning here in the next eight weeks. I suggest that you don't either, unless you're up for dropping the dough to eat downstairs at the "grill.")

4. Hipsters are just like you and me, only they really want to talk about how cool they are.

I was talked into agreeing to a party at my (group) house this weekend. Good idea, except I had other shit to do, rather than clean and prepare the house to my hipster housemates specification. (I won the bad housemate award for the first half of the weekend.) When I did finally show up, I was glad that the girl at the door didn't press me for the entry fee they were charging (oh, did I mention that they were charging to enter the house and drink keg beer? Where are we? High school?) to raise money for a hipster fashion group. Then I got to talk with hipsters. Who really like talking about themselves. But I did discover two things: 1. This party was really like every other party in DC where the first question is "What do you do?," followed closely by "Where did you go to school?" (if the cross-examiner thinks that they can impress you with their institution of higher learning.) Sweet. 2. I don't have to listen to hipsters drivel on about how cool their non-profit job is and how they are saving the world from corporate greed (you're a program assistant, get over yourself) because I stun the hipsters with the fact that my job actually is interesting and different. Score one for me. (oh, and when hipsters attend your party, they leave the house a filthy wreck just like everyone else. But they also leave their kegs and their turntables. If these are not gone by the time I get home from class tonight, check craigslist for some cheap shit.)

4. Preparing for a party is a lot more fun than cleaning up afterwards.

Now, I didn't help set up at all. Do I feel bad? A little, but frankly, none of my friends attended (because of the cover charge) and I was only there so that I could keep one of my other housemates sane. But in the morning (actually from 1-6 in the afternoon), were the party planners around? Nope. Sweet, I got to mop the floors and move the furniture back into place by myself! This is why I love you guys! Well, after a hard fought struggle, you guys won the bad housemate award by unanimous decision. (Of course, you probably won't even notice that the house was cleaned due to your appointment with further self-involvement. On the positive side, I now feel completely free from any sort of house-responsibilities until I move out next month.)