Ween & Euchre

Over the years my husband and I have shared our passions with each other and molded each others tastes so that there are many things that we both love. He has picked up my love of hip hop and the habit of picking a movie by the director and I now enjoy motorcycle related things such as world trials competitions and drinking coffee through a straw. There are, however, many passions that we still do not share. I doubt that Motopop will ever get a thrill at seeing marshall arts on the big screen with english subtitles and I will never want to race motorcycles as a hobby.

One of my great joys before meeting my husband was playing cards. Now I rarely get a chance to play and when we try to play together he acuses me of making up rules. So as I wake up today I am still buzzing from the excitement of last night's party where I learned how to play euchre.

Motopop & I set out to dinner at 9 with babe in tow and met a group of friends at a thai restaurant. We had a great time celebrating the birthday of our friend visiting from Amsterdam as Boyo slept at the corner of the table in his blanket-covered car seat. Leaving the restaurant at midnight you would think that we would be happy as new parents to have successfully accomplished the feat of going out with the baby but we are ones to test the limits. (I am a bit nervous about this trait appearing in Boyo.)

So we followed to crew to our friends' place and had a few more glasses of wine and Motopop continued to wax poetic about Moto GP since he had european audience who actually knew who Valentino Rossi was. We were ready to bail as soon as Boyo turned into a pumpkin but after eating he just looked around wide-eyed and we stayed.

Then came the magical point where Ween was put on the stereo and 4 of the 10 of us sat down to play euchre (at a Ligne Roset table to give you a sense of the coolness of our friends' place). The forces of the universe are somehow alligned- our baby is content to be out after midnight, Motopop is talking about his favorite subject, we are in beautiful mid-century modern space, we are listening to one of my favorite bands, our friends that drink sometimes makes unpleasant are smiling, and I am playing cards.


Now if only I could get him to appreciate the oeuvre of Joss Whedon. . .