Technically, this weekend started on Wednesday at noon. I left work to head out to my old high school to congratulate their boy’s cross country team on winning states. I was on the last team to win it there and when we won the last team to have won it visited us. Luckily, these guys won after only seven years. When we won our previous championship it had been a twenty year hiatus; not many of those guys showed. Running in to good friends from the past is a good thing. This seemed to be the theme of the weekend. Also, small world… One of the kids on that team had a father who unfortunately died this past year, which was written about in the local papers. He had worked with my ex girlfriend… Crazy. I didn’t go out Wednesday night, but from the reports I received maybe I should have. Oh well.<br/><br/>Thursday was Turkey Day. Did the family thing at my sister’s house. Same old, same old.<br/><br/>Friday I got tons of errands done and went out to Georgetown. The night absolutely sucked. We started early at The Guards, but there was nobody there so rather than waiting around for the night to develop we go to Third Edition. Worst idea ever! Not only is there a cover, but there is hardly room to breathe and the music sucks. A friend and I finally leave and get cheesesteaks at the top of G-town. Good stuff. While there I run in to another friend from the past who is now in the Air Force flying helicopters. How does he greet me? He pulls up his pant leg to show me the scar I inflicted upon him. The last time I saw him was maybe 5 years ago playing football with some friends. On the first drive I get the ball, break some tackles, and head towards the end-zone. He catches me, but doesn’t have enough power to bring me down. I drag him on my leg for maybe 20 yards in to the end-zone where I finally get off balance and tobble over. SNAP! His ankle is broken real good. Poor guy… His first vacation back from The Academy and he needs to get surgery. Was nice seeing him and the few people he was with, all from my past as well.<br/><br/>Saturday night I wasn’t really feeling it due to the lackluster Friday, but a few of us rally and turn it in to one to remember. We start off at my friend Nancy’s birthday party at Panache. Note: Nancy is the one who is best friends with my ex from high school. Nancy has all her sorority sisters out and who do they turn out to be? Well, one (Tin Tin) I “dated” in high school (I actually don’t know what that was, but we hung out a lot for a short period), and the other works with my most recent ex (J2). So out of this girl Nancy’s close friends, I know three of them very well. Weird, but sucky at the same time because she has some hot friends and I’m too “in” now. Anyway, so this Panache place isn’t too bad, but it needs to be spiced up. What is the remedy? The ball dance. My friend Louis and I dance around as if we’re bouncing/playing/dribbling/passing a basketball to each other. Surprisingly, this turns out pretty well and it actually looks as if we know how to dance. People love it and soon folks from all over the bar gather around us and begin taking pictures. Rock star status? Achieved. On the way out Dave and I take it a level higher with a badminton game/dance, but it felt too forced. Fun anyway… Damn, my friends are awesome. The night continues in Adams Morgan. We start off at Brass Monkey and walk right back out, then head to Tom Tom. We don’t stay long, but while there I run in to a group of friends from high school, the girl who grew up two houses away from me, and a guy I used to run with. SMALL WORLD! We then head over to Chloe where we meet two friends of ours. Apparently they have too many girls and need someone to take off the heat (according to salesman Dnorm). We arrive, refuse to pay a $10 cover to get in since the place will be closing in an hour, and the bouncer finally agrees to $5. We’re in! Damn, cool place and hot bartenders! Win! We walk around a bit and finally find our friends and their “hot girls.” The only hot thing about these girls was their appetities. One hottie (who my friend was going for) surrounded by maybe six bigguns. Joy! I refuse to grenade the fugly… Eventually, Chloe closes so we head to a place that is open til 5am, which is aptly named “Five.” The line outside this place is ridiculous and Dnorm and I are the only white English speaking people in it (our friends are Brazilian and speak Portugese on occasion). We wait, wait, I chat with a homeless West African in French… His name was Mauice (and I’ll bet he never would have guessed he’d be written about on the Internet)… Truly amazing the amount of a foreign language you can remember when you’re drunk. I hook him up with a piece of gum, and we give up on the line. We cross the street and head to Julia’s Empanadas. Another huge line and it isn’t moving. We give up there and head to Fuddruckers. Why a Fudds is open until 4am I do not know, but whoever thought of it needs a serious raise. Burgers, fries, onion rings, and soda are pounded and we head home. I tuck in to my couch and a fine night comes to a close.