Throughout the month of March Corcoran has hosted pretty much the coolest drinking/art/everything that is good with DC event in this whole city. There-I said it.
This Saturday marks the bound to be awesome wrap up party (fancy dress, at the Corcoran, all details here and TODAY IS THE LAST DAY TO BUY TICKETS
Get them here:
http://www.corcoran.org/artini/
The ticket proceeds from ARTINI benefit the Corcoran College of Art's Scholarship Fund.
Having said that, should you not have 100 bucks to spend on them we have 2 tickets to give away, as a pair or for individual lovers of art and drinks.
Just leave a comment saying whether you want 1 ticket or 2 and include an engaging story involving either drinking, pretty dresses, tuxes, art, capri sun pouches or all of the above and we will let the lucky winner(s) know by Friday 9AM.
DEAL?
DEAL.
Previously in Misc/Awesome:
- 12/28: Terrible Boyfriend/ Girlfriend Generator.
- 12/1: The John Waters Advent Calendar-it starts today
- 11/28: It Chooses You: All I Want for Christmas is Everything from Miranda July's Pop-Up Shop
- 11/3: Things I'd Move to Minnesota For
- 9/6: PHOTOS: Maloof $$ Money Cup
- 9/2: PHOTOS: Chantilly Model Train Show
- 9/1: Libby's List: 5 Things I Want Right Now...
- 8/22: PHOTOS: Best Friends Day
- 8/10: PHOTOS: Lawn Mover Racing, Eastern Seaboard Regionals @ Bowles Farm
- 7/26: Special List: Things the BYGays Want Now That We Can Marry In DC (and NY!)
God loves a cheerful giver.
Let's just say I've been around drinking since I could remember which of course has not ceased to exist in my life, I would never allow it. Regular consumption of a libation was standard as well as the cheer before it or in my case "salud!" Now when my sister had a kid, a little girl named Zoey, of course she was going to be exposed. When she turned a certain age capri sun pouches were bought in bulk by my parents, something I never got, shes spoiled. So naturally she learned the custom of cheering. At the ripe old age of 3 she would raise her capri sun pouch and say "salud!". I mean how cute is that? I see big things for her in the future....
Oh yeah and she likes pretty dresses.
2 tixs please.
My first girlfriend/first kiss from 8th grade and i recently reunited. I hadnt seent (yes, spelled correctly) her in over TWELVE years, when she heard that I recently became single. It was a busy nite @ my bar, when this beautiful Bolivian in a yellow sundress comes up to my bar & aches for my attention. I bite - spilling shots, rocksglasses & empty beers while caught like a Deer-In-Headlights. HER headlights, that is. She has a SPECTACULAR pair of Capri Sun Pouches, ifyaknowhutimean.
9am, Friday morning? 2 tix porfa!
So one night, I was drinking in a very pretty dress and a handsome man in a tux came up to me and offered me a Capri Sun. Not just any Capri Sun - but a discontinued Big Pouch.
I would love to win two tickets for Sara and I, who are long overdue for a night out like this. Because we're poor.
I was kind of obsessed with Capri Sun as a child. I liked to drink them while sitting too close to the TV, which would get me yelled at for both "hurting my eyes" and for spilling Capri Sun because I was klutzy with the straw insertion.
I think perhaps Capri Sun plus vodka should be the cheap, overly sweet cocktail of the 09 recession. Preferably toted around in a beat-up squeeze bottle. Classy!
Mine is a sad story.
I learned from the NYT today that as an Asian flusher that my risk for esophageal cancer is vastly increased with drinking:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/03/24/health/24blush.html?scp=1&sq=aldh2&st=cse
That means that anything I do drink has to be really special.
2 tix please.
I love that capri suns were included in the list of suggested mentions, especially because it immediately reminded me of my first power hour. my roommate and i had never done one so her bf decided he'd be the Mr. Miyagi to our Daniel. we were pretty new to drinking and esp drinking beer (screwdrivers were our poison of choice at the time). so what was my spoon full of sugar to help it go down? capri sun. my roommate was less progressive and remained loyal to her ssips juice box. about 20 minutes in and we were already multiple shots behind. our sensei, the bf, just shook his head in shame. total fail. we switched to vodka (minus the power hour-ing). more efficient. oh college. i don't think either of us successfully participated in a power hour until after college.
2 tix please!
I attend First Friday, the Dupont Circle art gallery walk on the first Friday of every month, with a couple of design friends of mine pretty regularly. It's a nice occasion to mingle, discuss art and get tipsy off the free wine. One time, Scott and I were looking at a colorful abstract painting at R Street Gallery when a woman approached us to talk about the work. Soon we figured out that it was the artist; her name was Shannon, and she told us the colors were inspired by Capri Sun packaging. I said "no way!" and told her that Raspberry Lemonade was my favorite flavor. She said Strawberry-Kiwi was hers, and apparently Tropical Punch is Scott's. Anyway we had a laugh and she asked us what pieces we liked best in the gallery. I told her I absolutely loved this dark painting of a lake, and she said she would introduce me to the artist! To my pleasant surprise, he was super-cute. I mentally patted myself on the back for wearing my favorite purple dress that evening. The artist, Matt, thanked us briefly for the compliments and then apologized for being on his way out. He flashed me a charming smile and said "I'll see you around, though?" My heart skipped a beat. God, I hope so. Maybe in a tux. At Artini?
Forgot to add: 2 tickets, please!
funny you should ask... it was the year 2000 and I found myself sitting in a parking lot outside the Minnepolis convention center in my Senior High School prom date's light blue volvo station wagon. His idea of dinner was drive-thru at the nearest McDonald's. I got the #3. As I try not to get ketchup on by pretty pink dress that I spent months shopping for, he pulls out a bottle of Boone's Farm and Takka. We proceed to take shots of shitty vodka using McDonald's orange drink as a chaser. He spilt booze on his tux, but we managed to sneak past the police officer (also my basketball coach) and my Geography teacher. Needless to say, he spends the majority of the night puking in the bathroom. I wondered around dateless and miserable. I would like two tickets to ARTINI so I can wear a pretty dress, drink delicious cocktails, bring a worthy date, and finally get my redemption.
P.S. I considering lying and saying that our chaser was a capri sun because that would be just perfect. But that would make this unfortunately true story false, so I resisted the urge.
When I knew she was the one: About ten years ago I invited the woman that would become my wife to my brother’s wedding. Now when we were kids, my brother and I were the town Casanovas, and you know our secret? No, not Capri-sun, with its flaccid “pouch.” Like all badasses, we drank Ecto-cooler. Remember? – it was the one with Slimer on the front. In the summer, we would stand on the corner in ray-bans sipping the elixir, its irresistible perfume coaxing the neighborhood hotties to come out and French us with abandon (okay, okay, maybe we were really just selling ecto-cooler in Dixie cups for 10 cents to merciful old ladies in front of our house while my mother planted magnolias 30 feet away, but that’s just semantics).
Anyhow, back to the wedding, as an amusing (or immature, according to his mother-in-law) homage to our childhood, my brother actually served ecto-cooler at the wedding (although it was now called Shouting Tangerine or something, and Slimer had been bowdlerized). And while I was taking a nostalgic sip too close to the dance floor, an enthusiastic "dancer" sprouting the first letter in the YMCA bumped my elbow, spilling the drink on my girl’s dress. I was bracing for tears, but she just returned astonishment -- ecto-cooler perfectly matched the color of her dress - the spill didn't show at all! It then dawned on me that every dress this girl owned matched one of my favorite hi-c flavors: that hot strapless number -- no, it's not red, it's strawberry kiwi kraze; the low-cut sundress I thought was pink was really poppin' pink lemonade. In that moment it became clear, obviously aware of my love for hi-c (I brought it up on the first date) she had been attempting to woo me by reproducing the flavors on her body! She denied this was her strategy, but I knew, and was flattered. Of course, I proposed quickly after this revelation, utterly seduced by the hi-c rainbow.
So, two tickets please for a guy in a tux and a girl in a Torrential Tropical Punch sheath dress.
Zachary just pwned.
It was the summer of '63, when everybody called me baby and it didn't occur to me to mind. I was in the Catskills on vacation with my family and my bratty older sister. There was this hot dance instructor Johnny, (everyone loved to dance there for some reason), rockin out in his skinny jeans before they even were called "skinny jeans" and the tighest black t-shirts my young eyes had ever seen. So I went to some party, I guess there was drinking, I brought a watermelon (as we'd never heard of capri suns at the time - oh the good old days). Then this girl got knocked up, I paid for an abortion and then became an excellent dancer, though my dance style leaned more towards "dirty" than my uptight parents would've liked.
The formal wear part is where things get really good. The instructor got exiled from our camping haven, then came back in time for one last, show-stopping epic dance. I wore pink chiffon and truly, finally, had the time of my life.
2 tickets, for me and Johnny
5th row, 2nd table. AKA - The lunch table where the "cool" girls sat in Elementary School. They were the prettiest, most popular, and best-dressed girls in the ENTIRE grade. I spent for the better half of my forth grade lunch period enviously watching this table – hoping – that I would one day have a spot.
The table only had six chairs, all of which were continuously occupied by the same 6 girls.
It wasn’t until the fifth grade that I got my chance. One of the girls had moved over the summer and alas, a chair became open! I’m not even sure how I managed to do it, but within the first week, I had a spot. Only 6 seats at the table, and one of them was mine!
I enjoyed that seat so much. Lunch was my favorite part of the day – everyday – until I lost it. The horrible ending came about at the end of the lunch period. I had just finished my Capri Sun, I had sucked the thing dry. As I continued to play with the straw, I decided it would be a great idea to blow air into the container and squeeze it, shooting the straw up up into the air. Complete success! The whole table was laughing. I was in my glory. I love you Capri Sun!
The laughing came to an abrupt halt when the Vice Principal interrupted us. He was outraged and demanded to know the guilty party. I shamefully admitted and followed him to his office. The next day I was moved to an assigned seat, never again - to return to the table.
Two tickets will change my memory of Capri Sun forever! I’m hoping for pretty dresses and yummy beverages tomorrow night! Two tickets please!!