Best. Weekend. Ever.

I had the type of weekend that caused me to spend the last 45 minutes trying to think of when I've had a better one, which had me silently smiling at the wall as I recalled vacations, our wedding, and good times spent with friends. But putting aside the big life events and trips when you really plan to live it up, I can't remember the last time I had a weekend where I unexpectedly had the best time ever. Unlike my dear husband who told me on a trip to Toronto several years ago that taking a picture with the Stanley Cup at the Hockey Hall of Fame was "the best day of my life", I put those special days in a separate and more cherished category. Apparently, our wedding was a close second to putting his arm around Lord Stanley's Mug like it was his junior prom date. Whatever.

The point is that I had a fantastic weekend and it started with my Level 2 final and the end of the Chef Nic era. We took our exam, watched a ridiculously old video that was entirely in French and consisted of several frenchmen yelling in a kitchen during lunch service (shrugging), and then completed our practical final, which involved making creme anglaise (a stirred custard) and demonstrating knife skills on unsuspecting potatoes and oranges. It went very well and I almost teared up when we said our goodbyes to Chef Nic. It's time to move on and graduate to Level 3, where time management, organization and cleanliness are key. Or so Chef Phil, our new chef-instructor for Levels 3 & 4 has told us. I don't know much about him other than that he looks like a really friendly bear and by his own admission, doesn't hand out many A's. We'll see about that.

After class, several of us went out for beers to celebrate and after a few hours, the group had whittled down to four of us, who I managed to convince to come with me to a karaoke bar so I could meet up with my good friend, Chris and his lovely girlfriend Sam, who were in town from San Diego (although they are originally from Boston and are about as obnoxious as you would expect people from Boston to be). Now, I love karaoke. I can barely carry a tune, but it doesn't stop me. There is something about belting out songs with a bunch of friends that makes me want to keep going all night...which is pretty much what we did. The best part was that my classmate, who I call a la Grecque (because she is Greek and in French cuisine there is a method of preparing vegetables in the Greek style or a la Grecque), claimed that she did not do karaoke, but interestingly enough once we got our own private karaoke suite, we couldn't keep her off the mike. And she was good. Back to the karaoke suite. Whoever came up with this concept should get one of those Real Men of Genius Budweiser commercials. A dedicated room where you can go with your friends (and a strange group of Europeans that nobody was sure who invited but turned out to be harmless and kind of fun) and sing your heart out and hog the mike. I am turning my living room into a karaoke suite. And I think I just heard Mike groan. It was a fantastic night.

Saturday was no less perfect. I spent the morning with Mike before jumping on the D train to Yankee Stadium to meet up with my Boston friends for a Red Sox - Yankees matchup. My ticket was an extra courtesy of the Silver Fox, which is what a la Grecque and I nicknamed Sam's dad who is silver haired and well, a fox, much to Sam's dismay. So it was the four of us, 3 raging Red Sox lunatics and me, a hater of both the Sox and the Yanks, sitting 10 rows back from the Red Sox dugout, in seats that were more comfortable than my own sofa. I didn't know how much I would enjoy the game given my contempt of both teams, but I certainly wasn't going to pass up a luxury seat at new Yankee Stadium watching the greatest rivalry in baseball. It turned out to be one of my personal favorite sports moments. Even though the game didn't mean much and nothing was on the line for me personally, I loved every minute of it. I felt for a minute what it must be like to be a fan of these two storied teams. I am an Oakland A's fan and while we have had our shining moments, we've never had the legions of fans or the money that these two teams do. And let's be honest, Boston and New York sports coverage is overinflated and often obnoxiously so, much like the ego's of the teams respective fans. So as an A's fan, whose team gets little coverage and respect, it's a thorn in my side. But I tried to put that aside for the night and just root for good baseball. And there was some good baseball. I found myself shouting "YOOOOOOOOUUUUUK! YOOOOOOOUUUUK!" when Youklis was up in the 9th in a do or die situation. I found myself cheering when Johnny Damon singled and gave the Yanks a 3 run lead. I loved the playful smack talking between my Beantown friends and the New Yorkers in front of us. I loved the stadium, I loved that Supreme Court Justice Sotomayor threw out the first pitch, I loved the chanting, booing and cheering and I got it. I get that it's such a fun thing to be a part of: the marquis players, the history, the rivalry, the swagger of a winning team. And it was fun to be a part of it for a day. But now I will go back to last place in the AL West and wonder if next year is the year we regain our late 80's glory. Sigh. At least I have FOOTBALL!



See how close we were?!

Which brings me to Sunday. We were so happy that the Chargers game was being aired in New York, which meant we got to watch from the comfort of our living room (soon to be karaoke suite). We made french toast for breakfast (using the creme anglaise I made for my final), we snacked on football food, and most importantly, the Bolts won! I love Sundays with Mike and this one was extra good because we haven't had a lot of time together lately between visitors and school. It was so nice to just hang out at home in our full Charger gear, yelling at the TV and constantly checking fantasy scores. I haven't asked him, but it may have even topped the 2 minutes he spent with the Stanley Cup.

On a final note, I will leave you with this. When I arrived at Yankee Stadium on Saturday, I texted my sister in Washington state to tell her where I was sitting because I figured she would be watching the game, which she was. Given the location of our seats, there was a chance she might catch me on TV. When she told my 5 year old niece that Aunt Emily was at the game they were watching on TV, Brynn's response was "WHAT?! Aunt Emily is THERE?! Is this a movie of our world?".



Mike, Me, Chris, the Silver Fox, & Chris's Mom