Super Hangover

HHH has been in a bit of a creative rut lately, due in part to the winter blahs, Carmella's insistence on an exorbitant 'signing bonus' and most recently, my Super Bowl hangover. I tried all of the usual hangover cures: coffee, cold shower and even hair of the dog (watching the Pro Bowl), but none of them really seemed to work.

The depression is finally fading and I'm starting to appreciate the magical season that the Cardinals had, culminating with their tremendous and unexpected postseason run. It was a great game with a heartbreaking outcome, but it certainly validated both the Cardinals and HHH poster boy, Kurt Warner.

I made a trip down to sunny San Antonio last Saturday to watch the big game with a fellow UNI alum and Warner-phile, my buddy Adam. We had vowed before the playoffs started to watch the Super Bowl together if the Cardinals were one of the contestants. At the time the idea seemed fairly absurd and implausible, but one month later there I was in the 75 degree Texas heat, my winter coat slung over my arm and my gloves stashed away in my carry on.

Football induced heartache aside, I was able to sample some of the local Texas cuisine. Everything really is bigger in Texas (at least food-wise). For lunch on Saturday we ate at Hacienda Los Barrios and my palette was exposed to the famous San Antonio "puffy tacos". What a glorious invention this turned out to be. I ordered a decidedly fru-fru Margarita sampler and tried a 'chelada', which is kind of like the bad-ass older brother of the Bloody Mary. The chelada has a police record, a bit of drug problem and a face tattoo, but it always has your back. Don't let appearances fool you.

On Sunday before the game, we ate at a place called Longhorn Cafe (Angus Burger, Mashed Potatoes) and then on Monday before I left, we stopped by Rudy's BBQ, which was fantastic in spite of my lingering heartache from the night before. You order your meat by the pound and your sides by the pint and then they just hand you a whole loaf of bread to make your sandwiches. Picnic tables, fire pits, brisket, creamed corn and BBQ sauce. Heart attack probable, but well worth it. I thank Adam and Julie for putting up with my antics. The laughter, the tears and the yelling...and that was just during the airport meet up. Next time, Austin is definitely on the agenda.

Speaking of airports, while waiting to board my plane in the SA airport, some old dude sitting next to me in the waiting area just rips ass. He didn't give a S-H-I-T. It was one of the loudest farts I've ever heard and as luck would have it, the smell matched the sound. The guy was totally unfazed . I turned to him and not hiding my disgust, asked, "Are you serious? Wow, just not cool." He just stared at me like I was the a-hole. I got up and moved all my stuff to another section and just shook my head like a disapproving father (I know that head shake well). That fart still haunts me more than the Super Bowl.

That Friday before I left, Katy and I went to my company 'Holiday Party'. What holiday, you ask? I'd like to think that we were celebrating Presidents Day early rather than Christmas late. The festivities took place at Finn McCool's, not exactly the epitome of class and cool, unless you live in Schaumburg and still rock carpenter jeans. But it's a recession dammit, and this place gave us free booze. That cannot be overlooked. Of course, we said we'd just stay there for 'one or two' since I had to board a plane the next morning, but as is usually the case with holiday parties, soon enough co-workers were embarrassing themselves and severely hampering their chances of promotions. It was a fun night but made for a decidedly less fun plane ride for me the next morning.

All in all a eventful weekend, with lots of ups, downs, booze and gut busting food. Now I'm indebted to Katy for a while for letting me go down to San Antonio on a whim, which means that I finally have to figure out how to hang this damn painting that I bought her for Christmas. I'm many things, but 'handy' isn't one of them.* Look for my story of how I ripped down all of our drywall in the coming days.

*For a short while, people called me 'Handy'. This was clearly a play on my last name and was discontinued once people found out that it was making a mockery of handymen everywhere.

The puffy taco. If you only make love to one taco, make it be this one.

The chelada and my Margarita Trio at Hacienda Los Barrios. Blended to boot! Where is my copy of Sex and the City?

Adam and I before the game, in happier times. Adam changed out of his UNI shirt in the third quarter to a Cardinals t-shirts, and I switched from Diet Coke to Corona. For a while it worked, but it was too little, too late.

Katy and I at the Holiday Party at Finn McCools. Drinking to honor our Presidents...except that last one.