Here we go, Brownies. Here we go!

On Thursday we went to a fundraiser for the family of a local cop who was killed in the line of duty. He happened to be the friend and mentor of a good friend of ours so we went in support of him. It was at a bar downtown, and they blocked off the street. They had at least over 2,000 people show up. It was a fantastic display of community, and at one point I almost cried. But not for the reason you think.

Okay so here it is-I'm inside the bar standing up on the stage area looking at all the items that are up for silent auction (signed Muhammed Ali boxing gloves-are you serious??). I turn to walk down off the stage, and I see my sister and Drew both standing stiff, staring to their right-basically looking totally creepy. I catch Diane's eye, and I mouth "What the hell?" and she quickly flicks her eyes to the right a few times, and nods her head in that direction. I look over, and it takes me a second to register what I'm seeing. Bernie Kosar. The best Quarterback in Browns history and my personal childhood hero is standing there. Bernie. Fucking. Kosar. My eyes open wide, and I'm pretty sure if this was cartoon they'd have popped out of my head, and you'd have heard that ah-ooo-ga sound. I turn back to Diane and mouth, "Holy shit." And then I almost cried. You guys, I know this might not be a big deal for a lot of people. But to most people my age who grew up watching the Browns back in the 80's when we almost won the AFC championship (fucking fumble), this is huge. Enormous. I mean it's Bernie Kosar.

I walk up to Diane, and I'm like, "Holy hell what is going on." And Diane says, "Drew is waiting for an opportunity to go up and talk to him to ask him to take a picture with us. Thank God I have my camera with me." Drew turns around and says, "If you didn't, I would dump you right now I swear." So the three of us are standing about 3 feet from him just staring. We look completely insane.

Steph walks up like, "Hey what's going on?" And in a whisper-scream I'm like, "It's Bernie Kosar!" And she's like, "Oh. Where?" looking straight at him but not recognizing him. We point him out, and she's like, "Neat." She's clearly not impressed. So we decide to make her take the picture of us, and she doesn't care because she doesn't even really know much about him. I know, you guys-it hurts me, too.

After literally standing there staring at him for 10 minutes like a bunch of creepazoids, Diane's like, "That's it, I'm going up there." She marches up to within maybe a foot of him and stops and says, "Okay no I'm not." Then we push Drew at him. Drew goes up, shakes his hand, and HAS A CONVERSATION WITH HIM. It looks like they are friends. Man, Drew is the best at this! Then he points to me and Diane and he says, "Hey, man, we don't want to take up too much of your time, but we're big fans of yours. Would you mind taking a picture with us?" Immediately Diane leans in and says, "We're really big fans!" then she spills her beer all down the front of her. Bernie's like, "Yeah, yeah! Of course!" and as soon as I get the all clear, I am on Bernie like flies on shit. I run up and basically cling to his right side because I figure if I'm going to be in a picture with Bernie, he better be touching me.

We take the picture, and I'm like, "Thank you so much!" over and over like a freak because that's all I can think to say other than, "Tell me to go long and then throw something at me." which, let's be honest, is what I really want to say. After we take it, he walks up to Steph and says, "Don't you get to be in the picture?" and she laughs and says, "No I get to take it." or something like that, and he goes, "Come on!" and waves her toward him and they get to take a one-on-one picture. Um...hell no! How is that fair? Stop flirting with her, Bernie! She doesn't care about you! Not like I do. Oh well. At least I got to take a picture with Bernie. I still haven't come down from that high. He's looking old, and he was wearing a Six Flags* shirt. But none of that matters to me. I told my dad I was going to try and date him. I don't think my dad was that disappointed.

Also at this party, we took a break to watch the space station fly over Cleveland. We were standing there staring up at the sky, and our friend Fats walked up, looked up and was like, "What are we looking at?" We said, "The space station is going to fly over Cleveland in a couple minutes." He goes, "This is the nerdiest party I've ever been to." We watched the space station fly over us and then the space shuttle was following it in the same orbit, and I'm sorry, but that is effing cool. Space travel is amazing, and you're insane if you don't agree. Afterward Fats goes, "So...are we done in the science lab now or do I have to wait to go get another beer." Awesome.

Other happenings:

- Diane and I took the day off on Friday to go to a spa. We went in a whirlpool for 12 minutes-the first 5 of which were spent just trying to get in because it was so effing hot, I thought we were being cooked alive. Then we got massages, pedicures and an awesome lunch. I still don't know why there are people who choose to touch people's bodies and feet for a living, but thank God for them. After our massages we had to wear our robes to the pedicure and to lunch, but here's the thing: we had nothing on underneath. We kept asking-are you sure this is okay? Should we put clothes on? And they were like, "No it's fine. This is part of the experience." And I was like, "Is it part of the experience for the pedicurist to have to see my vag while she's filing my toenails?" Cuz I'll tell you what, you guys, I tried to shield her from that, but there is no way that at some point she did not see it. Don't worry, I tipped her well.

- On Saturday we went to the open air market which is a bunch of stands set up outside the West Side Market. It's local artists, jewelers, merchants, etc. who sell their stuff in these tents. We stopped at every jeweler's tent, and my mom said, "I'm a total jewelry slut." I have never heard my mom say the word slut in 30 years of life with her. It was amazing.

- Saturday night was pretty tame. I mean I don't remember any of it because of all the wine and the grapefruit vodka I drank, but I'm just going to assume it was tame so that I don't have to imagine how big of a jackass I was. I know that at 3am, I tried to mop Diane's kitchen. I remember her yelling at me a lot. Apparently I was not doing a sufficient job. Whatever, Diane. You're not sufficient.

*I can't sleep thinking about this story.