I work for a judge, and he scheduled a very early start to the final day of a jury trial yesterday morning. I went from bed to car in ten minutes, and remember very little of what happened in between. I know this much: I was wearing pants.
During the diet, this would have devastated me, but I allowed myself to grab some orange juice for breakfast rather than a smoothie.
For lunch and dinner, I made burritos out of whole wheat tortillas, organic black beans, chopped up raw brocolli and chopped up raw tomatoes. I seasoned the black beans with cumin, but a good friend recommended I try all-spice next time. For the dinner burritos, I found a good all-natural salsa to increase the heat and flavor.
It's important to describe this classic Otter night, mostly because we dizzily handed out several links to our blog, in hopes that we'd attract a few stalkers.
When we entered, we immediately took pictures with a very charming man who may have been Elvis in hiding. This was not abnormal, and I note that nobody every looks for Elvis in Minnesota. Interesting.
It was my sister's birthday, and I somehow neglected to take her picture. Well Happy Birthday to you!
We bumped into a surprising number of friends, caroused with random has-been enemies, danced trancelike to karaoke, and took occasional sensory breaks in the outer stairwell. Here's a picture of one of those breaks, with Otter-regulars Stoner and Midget:
I belted out a crowd-stunning rendition of Neil Diamond's Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show. It may not have been pleasing to the ear, but I'm comforted by the fact that at least 20% of the listeners now know that they have two good hands. One for reaching out to the man up there, and one for reaching to their brother who is in trouble. Public service announcement over.
Kelly with another performer:
Finally, Kelly met a great guy from Hutchinson, MN, who bought us a couple drinks and introduced us to his wife and friends. Interestingly, I was named after an ancestor of historical note from Hutch, a man named Nathan Lamson. Nathan killed Little Crow, the leader of the Sioux Rebellion. I wasn't there, so I can't comment on the whole "he said, he said" situation over shots fired, but I've been to the historic site a couple times. I admit, I looked over my shoulder for possible retributive gunfire from the spiritual plane.
Kelly, borrowing the poor guy's glasses. At the moment, I'm sure he has no idea who I am or what I'm doing: