So sick of being sick

I'm sure all I have to do is take a sip of water and that itch in my throat will go away immediately, I thought hopefully. I JUST got over being sick; there's no way I'm coming down with something AGAIN.

It's times like these that I hate living on an island with 8.2 million other people. I blame the constant close contact with strangers that is impossible to escape. There's always some guy hacking next to you while you're trying to find a little more elbow room to get away from him on the subway or a teenager turning toward you to sneeze at the exact moment you're trying to pass her on the sidewalk.

So I felt like I was coming down with something on Saturday (don't you hate that feeling?) that became a full-blown cold on Sunday. So I had to skip my football game and take it easy with the hubby, which was a good idea because while I still felt sick, couldn't taste or smell anything, and was coughing every few seconds, the misery was manageable on Monday and Tuesday.

But then I had to go and overexert myself with a 90-minute, one-on-one rehearsal with the director of the play that I'm in before rushing to get to my basketball game on time. Toward the end of the game, I was waving off my teammates asking me if I wanted to come off the bench because I knew I was done. My body was telling me loud and clear that this wasn't one of those times that you feel better once you've exercised.

So even after a hot bath and choking down a horrible mug of TheraFlu, I stayed in my bed from Wednesday night until Friday morning, only getting out of bed to visit the restroom and get another bowl of yogurt. But that day of rest was exactly what I needed because although I still felt crappy on Friday, it wasn't enough to skip another day of work. Although a four-day weekend of rest and relaxation was pretty tempting.

I'll admit it when I'm wrong... this acting thing is harder than I thought

When people find out that I've been cast in a play, they usually say something along the lines of, "I didn't know you were an actress!"

Lately, I've been correcting them, saying, "I'm not. I just play one in this one play."

Acting is a lot harder than I thought.

During our first rehearsal, the director began by telling us a little bit about our characters, so we could "start making some decisions" on what we were going to do with them.

Um, my character- Miss Dee - is a poet and a teacher, so doesn't that mean that what I'll be doing is pretending to be a poet and a teacher? Absolutely not.

Apparently, what that means is we are supposed to decide how we're going to play our characters. Is my character the type of teacher who's loud and loves attention or quiet and timid? Is she exploring or struggling with her life in some way? What are her mannerisms like? Does she have an accent?

I learned this after hearing the actual actresses say things like, "I want to explore my character's sexuality a little bit. Maybe she's struggling with the fact that she's a lesbian." Or, "I feel like my character is funny and could say some of the lines louder with maybe a Bronx-like accent." Etc.

I contributed very little to this discussion because I thought I was just supposed to follow the stage directions, like when it says, "she shakes her fist" I should, well, shake my fist.

There is a little more to this acting thing than I originally thought. I really hope I don't suck at it.

Always willing to help out a friend in need

I had just come back from a run earlier this evening (yes, that's right: A RUN. Even though it only lasted about 10 minutes, I still DID run most of the time) with the dog when my phone beeped.

At the time, it was barely 7 p.m. and I was sprawled out on the living room floor focusing on the important task of deciding what to do first - take off my sweaty clothes and hop into the shower or warm up my leftover chicken marsala.

But I have a soft spot for my friends, especially when they need me for something, so I answered my friend Deirdra's text of "You home?" with "Just got back what's up?"

Her response: "I'm at lincoln park with a friend wtih a pitcher we can't finish:("

My response as to whether I'd be willing to hang out with my friend whom I haven't seen in way too long to help her finish off some beer at the bar that I live above?

"I'm on it."

Ninety seconds later - even though I looked gross and was still a little sweaty from my run - I was hugging my friend as her friend poured me a glass of beer and pushed a half-eaten plate of nachos my way.

Way better than a shower followed by leftovers.

All that was missing was the guys' ties knotted around their heads

It's 10 p.m. and my husband isn't home yet.

But this isn't anything unusual. In fact, it would be unusual to see my husband before 9:30 p.m. Such is the life of a banker in NYC.

This is why it was so great that both of us were able to let loose on Thursday - something he doesn't even really have an opportunity to do - starting at the ridiculously early time of 7:15 p.m.
The sushi place near where Brent works was running an all-you-can-eat-and-drink special last Thursday, so one of his work buddies, Max, made reservations for a few of the guys for dinner. (I met Max in Cancun because Brent and I happened to be on vacation in the same place at the same time as he and his girlfriend, so we all, obviously, went out and got wasted in Cancun.)

But because the fiancee of one of the guys was in town, they decided that wives/girlfriends could be invited to join. That meant, essentially, that I was able to join the four guys and the one guy's finacee for dinner, but I didn't care because it meant that I was able to actually spend time with my husband during the week.

So after getting to the restaurant and making fun of Max for making reservations - seeing since we were literally the only six people in the place - we began to honor the precedence we set in Cancun by ordering several pitchers of (all-you-can-drink) beer and glasses of sake. And then I proceeded to order several rounds of what has become my absolute favorite sushi: sweet potato! Mmmmm!

And the fiancee, Kelly, was actually really sweet and cool - and essentially is in the exact same position I was in in late 2007 (fiancee living in New York, getting ready to move from a small town to the big city, nervous as hell about it, etc.) So I spent a good part of dinner telling her how much fun she was going to have in the city, and told her to drop me a line when she got here so we can hang out. Yay for more friends!

After more than two-and-a-half hours of stuffing ourselves with sushi and filling the gaps with alcohol, the restaurant owners started shutting off the lights and telling us they were closing up. At 9:45 p.m. in New York. Unheard of.

So we did what anyone would do after about seven or so rounds of toasts of sake bombs: find a bar to go to.

We settled on the bar right across the street from where the guys all work - somewhere I've always suggested to Brent that we should meet at since it's right there, anyway - and Brent decided it would be a good idea to order everyone a round of tequila. Tequila does not an early night make. We ended up shutting down that bar, which wasn't too hard, since those owners informed us it was too slow to stay open, even though it was just about midnight by then.

WTF? A bar closing at MIDNIGHT? Did we accidentally migrate into Jersey?

To prove a point (I think we were trying to prove a point, anyway; we were all pretty drunk by then) we started walking in search of a bar that was still open. So we wouldn't have to walk aimlessly for too long, I used the "Around Me" iPhone app to find one. Yay for the iPhone!

But since we were going to pass two bars on our way to the one that the iPhone GPS was telling us to go to, we decided to go into the bar without the rude guys in front who didn't answer me when I asked them if they were at a fun bar. Or else they didn't hear me ask: I didn't really care; the bar we chose had a pool table! And it was open!

After nearly two more hours of drinking and eating several plates of bar food (as if all-you-can-eat-sushi wasn't enough) I convinced the guys to call it a night. We had been drinking for, oh, seven hours and I had to work the next day (the guys had the bank holiday off).

It wasn't until we were on our way home that I mentioned to Brent that while the one other couple we were with would often be holding hands, the two of us didn't interact much at all. Heck, we didn't even sit next to each other at any of the places that we visited. I spent the majority of the evening talking to Kelly, listening to the guys tell stories about how Brent is at work, and sharing a bunch of how Brent is at home.

"It's because we're such a strong couple that we didn't need to," he replied.

Though I would have liked to spend a little more quality time with the hubby, as I originally expected, it's nice to know that he is right.