California Here We Come!

Very excited am I– we’re taking a little trip to the state of the Great Govenor Ahnald… My dear pal Liz and her husband have settled far, far away from her midwestern roots in the land of glorious sun and we’re going for a visit. It’s been a long time since I’ve flown on a plane. (Not to imply that I fly regularly without one. The broom has been in the shop.) That in itself has me completely geeked. It’s no secret that I love airplane food. (I also love TV dinners.) Airplane meals are wee and small and miniature. Tiny utensils… tiny little meats. Enjoyable.

And then there will be time with Liz and Fadi in Chula Vista. I want to see the Pacific. Liz worries that the weather will not be so perfect– rain is expected and it’s only in the “upper 50s”… but, then again, Liz has been away from Michigan for nearly two years. The poor darling has forgotten the misery of February turning into March. The ocean is still the ocean in the rain. (Actually, there might be MORE ocean in the rain. Hmmmm.) And, frankly, the upper 50s sounds darn near a heat wave. What will my neck do without a scarf around it?

And– major highlight– my sister’s family will be out there at the same time so we’re going to DisneyLand with them. I could use a little Disney magic. We’ve tried to prep my nieces– they’ve only been to DisneyWorld and probably have visions of Epcot and MGM in their heads. Then again– there’s something about DisneyLand that’s very endearing. It’s cramped and little and doesn’t have the polish of it’s Florida sibling but it’s the Real Thing at the same time. We’re eating lunch at Ariel’s Grotto. (I’m singing the Ariel aria right now.) The Brother-in-Law “pricelined” us a hotel. How we allowed that to happen I do not know. It’s a little disconcerting that we can’t find any pictures of it on-line. It may prove to be worth a blog entry all on its own.

Think good thoughts while we’re all out traveling. Wish that we might run into a celebrity. (Not with the rental car… I mean in a good way. A “why yes, Mr. Spielberg, I will come and work on your next project” kind of way.) And– if you’re not too bitter with February you might wish for us a little sun?

Bon Voyage…

Squish

I went with my sister for her first mammogram today. We’d long ago agreed that this would probably be a very dreadful thing to have to do and that we would go together when the time came. She’s older (much, much older) so her turn was first. And, as it turns out, it was much ado about nothing. Her technician was silly and fun, too, and the gowns were cloth (not “paper towel”) so the humiliation factor was lessened. She was especially pleased that, “it didn’t hurt…” banquishing all the horror stories we’d heard and read. Really, in hindsight, the dreadful part was in the smell of the first waiting room… or the Bat Cave/closet room with two chairs and barely room for them that they took us to from which we watched quite possibly Scatman Crothers (The Shining) endlessly dry mopping an already spotless hallway…. (I peeked out to see if there were two small children at the end of the hall and we both were a little nervous that any minute we’d hear a Big Wheel…) That hallway was creepy.

So my public service announcement for the week is to get your sorry over 39 year old female arse to the doctors and get a mammogram. Take a pal with you. And then take them out to breakfast afterward. (Silver dollar pancakes. Yum.)

“All right, number off…”

Playing the part of a grown-up today is… Me! I get to chaperone a field trip for my 10 year old niece’s class. We’re going to the Lewis & Clark Imax movie. I’m completely geeked. I’ve really wanted to see the movie. Her Dad, my brother-in-law (of Bat Eradicating Fame) is going, too. His job is to keep an eye on the kiddies. My job is to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t mortify Maddie by saying things like “kiddies”…

I’ve been practicing all week, “Ahem. Let’s quiet down there.” “Do I need to separate you two?” Heehee.

Move it Ebert. I’ll take these ones…

The agenda for this weekend was slightly modified to accommodate reality. We were supposed to hit the slopes at Searchmont but, alas. Alack. The temperature was one below without factoring in the windchill (ugh) and we faced the ugly reality that we are no longer 14 and willing to ski in any conditions… So we headed into Petoskey for lunch and a movie. We ended up seeing two…

The inferior of the two was Calendar Girls. It had it’s moments but, as quirky British comedies go this was no Waking Ned Devine. Actually, technically it wasn’t even a British comedy but a Touchstone feature. Hollywood smarming it all up a bit. All three of us liked it but felt like it dragged considerably in places. It’s a good rental.

Our other contributions to the Disney coffers (I’m a stockholder. Go Disney!) was to see Miracle– well worth every penny of our matinee tickets and then some. We laughed. We cried. We cheered. And as much as we knew that we would skate past the Soviets to win the game there were moments that made us nervous that it might not happen. Kurt Russell’s Minnesota accent is the best since Fargo. Amazing. I want to see it…”Again.” “Again.” “Again.”

So there you have it. Get off your duffs and get thee to a movie theater.

Expect the Unexpected

Yesterday I found a box of chocolates sent to me! waiting at the front door with the mail and papers. A big, lovely box of pretty chocolates that melt in the mouth and remind this girl how lucky she is to have such good Friends out there.
And an email, again, out of the blue, that says Rob & I are in the prayers of another set of friends and that they are thinking of us.

Almost makes you hope, doesn’t it?

My kingdom for a cookie

It’s mid morning and already I’m watching the clock. Being a grown-up sucks. We should get cookies on days like this.

The (Un)Lost Weekend

My pal Speedy had planned an event for about 30 of us this weekend that the February weather shut down. Under threats of flooding and ice and snow he cancelled on Thursday leaving me with a suddenly free weekend. No work. No commitments. No nothing.

I ran errands. I caught up on sleep. Did some reading. Played with the pup. Learned how to cook wee little cornish hens. Made cookies…. All in all a nice balm to the initial disappointment that I wouldn’t be with the Eastern Pals.

And (bonus) the Boy took me to dinner in Ann Arbor– Japanese steak and a bread run at Zingermans.

How was your weekend?

Simple Pleasures. Simple Girl.

I brought the pup into work today. It’s a fairly common occurrence… my bosses are enamored with the little mongrel and he’s a very quiet little dog. (Currently, he’s curled up on his little fleece blanket next to my computer sleeping.) I like that I can bring him in. I like that he is welcomed and loved. He likes the late afternoons when I let him run down the long hallways after a tossed toy.

I’m at the end of a long scarf. That’s a good feeling. Finishing up a project and getting it off to a new owner. This scarf is a little Dr. Seuss… a little Currier & Ives. As though the four of us went out for the evening. With yarn.

My mother-in-law made dinner for us last night. Yummy, tiny lamb chops and potatoes… And Bear Claw ice-cream for dessert. She got out the china and silver so the evening felt like quite an event. I have good in-laws.

Tonight there is Survivor. And Friends. And ER…. a happy TV night in our house…

And my e-box is full of e-missives from Friends that are not (mercifully) electronic but flesh and blood and wonderful. I am a happy girl.

oh eee oh e o e o e o…..

I’ve been salivating (yes, actually drooling) for the latest Survivor installment… the idea of an All-Star match is brilliant on the part of Mark Burnett. So it was with great glee that we realized the stupid post-Super Bowl commentary (“I dunno Jim, I think I have a bigger…” “Really, Bob?”) had mercifully ended and the last of the not so memorable commercials had faded to the beginning of the dulcet sounds of the Survivor Theme. (Have you noticed that it’s impossible to sing the Survivor theme out loud? It always turns into a “Do You Hear What I Hear?”)

After a wee mishap with my TiVo (operator error– never TiVo’s fault. TiVo is darn near faultless. Have I mentioned that I love my TiVo?) we hunkered down for the all the fun and games that Mr. Jeff Probst consistently delivers.

And what a hoot it was! Over confident c-list celebrities with no drinkable water, seemingly only unripe bananas to eat and no means of making fire after that rain came in… Good times indeed.

I’ll be watching for the next umpteen weeks. I hope you will take the time to, too.

(And yes, I am voting for my Rupert to at least make it to the final round… So sue me for being an optimist.)