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Another Saturday Night

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What happens when you change your mind about going out on Saturday night and forget about the bottle of Raventós i Blanc chilling in the freezer?

cavafreezer.jpg

Nothing, THANK GOD.  What does that say about the cava inside?  I don't know.

By 9pm, I had managed to shower, but then I sat wrapped in my towel, paralyzed.  Sometimes leaving the house feels impossible.  About a half hour later, I actually put my dress AND tights on, but still wound up eating spaghetti con pollo from the Dominican place and watching Law & Order SVU on Netflix streaming.  (Soooooy uuun perdidooooooor!)

In my defense, my two scheduled activities for the evening were bowling (which I was not dressed to participate in) and the house party of a friend of Eric's all the way near the Montrose stop.  For those of you unfamiliar with New York geography, that's like living in Guatemala and being invited to a party in Poland. 

But the next time you get the Saturday night blues, remember that Sam Cooke knows how you feel (via my friend Trevor):



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Halfway point!  NAMBLApopozão!
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My name is Ganda. I write about food and bicycle commuting from Brooklyn, NY.


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