memories of kellermans

Friday night was my work Christmas party. It's now Sunday morning and I think I've finally gotten over my hangover. It turned out to be a really fun night, with everyone taking full advantage of the prosecco on hand. There was karaoke involved. We all remember how much I love to karaoke. RB and I kicked it off with a memorable version of Time of My Life (the original, not the really bad Black Eyed Peas version. They should be ashamed of themselves for co-opting such a great song. Sorry for the rant, now back to the story at hand). It went a little something like this ... we even attempted the lift!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WpmILPAcRQo

(for some reason it won't let me embed. annoying. but I suggest you follow the link. it's awesome)

I actually own the Dirty Dancing DVD. My mom gave it to me for my birthday a few years ago. It's a bit of a joke in our family because when the movie came out, my mom wouldn't let me see it. As it had the word dirty in the title, she figured I was too young (I was 11). But then, we went to her boss' house for dinner and his daughter, who was a year younger than I was, had it on VHS. My mom couldn't say no, because it would look bad, so I finally got to watch it. And of course loved it. Still do. I carried a watermelon is one of my all time fave movie lines, and I use it whenever there is a watermelon present.

no ducky's

I woke up Saturday morning with this on my hand (sadly it's not a guy's phone number). Here is the backstory. There is a bar here in town. Well of course there are many bars, but this post is about one in particular. It's a karaoke bar. Karaoke, which of course was quite fashionable at one point (i.e. the 90s), and now, not so much. Yet this place remains popular. And not really in a kitschy, retro kind of way, because it is neither of these things. Nor is it trendy or classy. In fact it is really quite trashy. It is the dive bar of dive bars, yet somehow it has become one of our standbys. Almost our local. It doesn't really make sense. You never meet hot guys, rather you get hit on by men with moustaches (in a non-ironic sense) who can barely walk. And the music isn't particularly good. It's karaoke, so it's old faves (and not so old faves), too often ballads, sung by sad drunk people. The drinks aren't very good. To be honest, they are actually quite bad. The cheapest vodka and dodgy draft beer, so as a result the Ducky's hangovers are legendary.

The Ducky's stories are also legendary. Important events happen here. Milestones really. A few years ago, for AH's birthday we started off with a classy wine tasting at The Cellar. All went well still we started drinking full bottles rather than one-ounce tastings. This then turned into a trip to Ducky's. It went quickly downhill. She puked in the bathroom. On yet another occasion, she had her first dance with her now husband (and father to her recently born child). After SS moved into her first place after leaving her married home (aka empty tomb of a marriage) she ended up there with her mother - Sue loves to karaoke. Once we got cut off singing "Don't Stop Believing" at 2 am (before it became a popular song thanks to Glee). We went there on the first friday of Stampede a few years ago. I only remember this because there are pictures. And I'm in them. Finally, there was one particular night that HC and Christie had such a big night that they vowed not to end up there again. Hence the handwriting on my hand in the picture. It was to remind us not to end up there again. And all signs tonight pointed to us not going there. First we went out for a great meal at the hippest new gastropub in town. All signs pointed to a dignified birthday celebration. It really was quite a classy. Then someone ordered more wine. Six hundred dollars later, we ended up at Ducky's. Yep, that about sums it up.