Aw, don't be such a wet blanket.

Yesterday P.J. and I went to the Cubs game. Always a good time. We were able to exchange the hat he had bought me a long time ago- really cool hat, however, the one he chose was for a child's noggin. I now am in possession of a blue cap with the vintage bear face on the front. In an actual adult size. The game was quite good, especially since I had never actually seen them win. It's true. I've been to a dozen games (especially since I used to live half a block from Wrigley) and I consistently witnessed them get crushed. Lots of my friends have seen sweeping games and victorious, um, victories, but not me. I once left early when it was clear the Cubs were losing (and I had a low grade fever)- I got a call not five minutes later telling me of the INCREDIBLE play I just missed. And the subsequent win.

But not yesterday! They beat Cincinnati (P.J. was prepared to high-five me either way) and it was fun to watch. It was also fun to eat a crazy big hot dog with twelve toppings and watch a middle aged woman try to nap on her husband's shoulder. I also liked seeing him obliviously wiggle about and bounce her head with his flailing arms. And then it was fun to poke P.J. each and every time he did that, leading to P.J. to point out key facts on the game in a subtle way.

But ooh, on the way there? Yup, bike accident. Involving the one-way (western) action of Cornelia Avenue, the wrong way (eastern) direction of the Schoenys and a car who decided to hook a left and immediately park. Keely veered left, P.J. veered right (and had to stop, obviously. There was a non-moving car.) P.J.'s tire backhanded Keely's tire and she fell to the right. Her ankle stayed firmly between the bikes. Oh, the blood. And the stoic holding back of tears.

The guy in the SUV got out to see if we were okay, spurred on (I'm sure) by the fact that when I was falling P.J. turned and glared at him. P.J. felt bad about this later on, as the whole thing was clearly our fault. He said it was a knee-jerk reaction, to turn and give a "see what you've done to my wife" look.

But it all worked out. At least until after the game and we headed home. Once there, I began to get ready to meet Kat (who was AMAZING enough to drive me to Elmhurst for my orthodontics. Really, this is getting out of hand.) This included finding my Invisalign braces container, check, getting my wallet, yup, little purse for later on, okay, keys, phone...where's my phone? DID I DROP MY PHONE AT WRIGLEY? P.J., rockstar that he is, took off on his bike to retrace our route. I tore the place apart, already in a cold sweat over the fact that I'd be unable to idly check my email, Facebook and blog with one thumb. Kat showed up and helped me look but eventually we had to take off. I felt like I was abandoning a child. (Truly, it's a sickness.) Called my Mom and sisters to inform them that if someone called from my phone they should tell the caller to return it. My Mom brought up the good question about whether or not people could get into my bank accounts and credit cards from my phone. And here I was worried about my Facebook status being changed to something unsavory.

HOWEVER. I called P.J. from Kat's phone (and also sent an "I love you" text, leading into a convo between Kat and I about how funny it would be if P.J. thought the text was from Kat, like now that I've lost all forms of communication she's safe to make her move. Oh, the laughter!) And guess what? He found the phone. Wrapped in a quilt at the bottom of the bed, presumably from when I was tossing things about like a madwoman. He sounded tense. I was pretty sure he'd be gone by the time I returned from Elmhurst. I sent one more "I love you" text from Kat's phone just be safe. I either fortified our relationship or added fodder to the budding one between he and Kat.

The ortho was fine (and Kat is a rockstar driver) and we decided to grab dinner at Volo, an unbelievable wine bar in Roscoe. Why haven't we all gone there multiple times? Exceptional. We got a sparkling wine flight (fancy) and split a few small plates; a spicy steak tartare, a crab and avocado and lemon salad so intensely flavorful I need to shut my eyes for a moment, and a bacon, mushroom and goat cheese pizza on crisped something or other. And then a sour cherry turnover and a cinnamon coffee float. I might tear up. I love you, Volo.

Met up with P.J. later on, who had been at a work party. The hullabaloo over the phone was a thing of the past! Hung out with a few (twenty) of his coworkers at Boss Bar, a place that I truly can say I don't need to visit again. It was fine, but kinda overpriced. And frankly, I'm not nuts about River North. Everything in that part of downtown closes up so early except for the corporate-hangout bars. Am I gonna get in trouble for saying this? I imagine it's like saying "Eh, SoHo? Eh." Without the arts scene, of course.

And there you have it. Thursday. So now it's Friday and I'm "worked from home," which means I cleaned, organized, wrote (a little) and watched one of the best movies from my youth- The Brave Little Toaster. This is epic. Early Disney at its finest. The animation actually wiggles on the screen, like some guy is holding a camcorder to each frame. I have no idea how animation works. And Jon Lovitz as the voice of the old timey radio? That would have meant nothing to me as a seven year old, but now I'm thoroughly entertained by the idea. My favorite is still the electric blankie who sounds like a sleepy toddler. I love when they clean the house to "Tutti Frutti" by Little Richard. Whom I used to think was Lionel Richard. (Maybe a cross between Lionel Richie and the animated lion King Richard in Robin Hood. That reminds me, do you know what the best name for a stuffed lion is? Lionel Roarchie. Kate and I have a whole master list if you ever want to hear the runners up, i.e. Pandy Gibb.)

Do you wonder why I never get any work done?

P.J. came home and we had a nice dinner in our superbly clean apartment, went for a walk to get gelato at Mario & Gino's (key lime pie and apple cinnamon somethingorother) and watched- wait for it- YouTube clips of the Chipmunk Adventure, also from 1987. This cannot be a coincidence. Somehow P.J. fell asleep on the couch so I spent the rest of the night skyping with Rachel, who had recently gotten back to Harvard.

And I have the whole weekend in front of me! (I realize it's a super late post, but I really wanted to have one for every day of this work week...proving, I don't know. I have a knack for documentation? Unchecked obsessive compulsiveness? A panache for procrastination?)

Yes. Happy Saturday!