FIELD REPORT -- Monday

Today was Napa Day!

But wait, first we must run Adrian's errands, like we are suddenly her assistants?! So after the post office and bank we set off for Napa. We lunch at Mustard's (yum), then head over to ZD. Decent enough for Adrian to purchase a good red, but not enough for Dr. J & I to make the financial leap.

Then we headed to Frog's Leap, a favorite of Adrian's. Well, it used to be, at least. Adrian did NOT like the decor of the tasting room (it was like Lands End meets Restoration Hardware). She hated the greenish color on the walls (I thought it looked like field moss, but WTF do I know?!) I think 99.9% of people would have found the relaxed, classy atmosphere of their tasting room charming, but not our ManHands. She hated it, and thus any chance of her enjoying their wine was promptyly ruined. Fair enough.

We headed off to Duckhorn. Ahhhhh! As soon as we walked in, Adrian KNEW it was gonna be good. The ambience was right for her, and this she relaxed. Thus, WE could relax, cause Ms. Home Decor Princess was happy. We settled in to try five wines, two of which we all liked very much. Then I saw one on the retail menu that was not part of the tasting menu. Sooooo, even though I was on vacation, I channeled my lobbyist charm, pushed up my cleavage, and asked the one male employee with reddish hair if I could "please just try a little taste of the Decoy?!" (cue me with big eyes, voice dripping with faux innocence yet laced with flirtation, and a slight toss of my own red hair).

It worked. C'mon . . . you KNEW it was gonna work. That is, after all, what I do.

So we tried the Decoy. Ahhhhh! Perfection! All three of us were sated! I wanted to run into the fields, drink a whole bottle of this wine, and just be silly. Mmmmmm.

All three of us now happily buzzed, Adrian decides we need dessert at Auberge du Soleil. It's a very high-brow kind of place, with gorgeous views. We choose several desserts and load up on ice water before we drive to Concord to meet Kirsten!!!!

Onward to meet "Chrissie," the other Charlie's Angel in our merry trio! OHMIGAWD! I am in "wuv" with my Kirsten! GORGEOUS TWINS!!!!!!!!!! (I am talking about her kids, Meg & Simon, now -- get your minds out of the gutter -- leave that dirty ol' man stuff to Dr. J!). And she is soooo pretty! Her hair is terrific! Adrian had us sit in a row and got Dr. J to take photos of our hair -- the contrast of red, blonde, and dark brown next to each other was "fantabulous" (Lisa, I am using "your word" again, darling!). Great idea, ManHands!!! The only thing missing was Jesse -- whom Kirsten, Dr. J and I have yet to meet.


Lines of the Day:

* Adrian -- "Oh, it's so pretty here. It's like a 24-degree view!"

* Adrian -- "Phuckingtastic!"

* Adrian -- "Excuse me, is there a cake-age fee here?"

* Friend of Drunk Guy -- "Sober up, dude!"

* Drunk Guy -- "I'm sober enough to know that I need to get out of this place. I am a selfish bastard. But phuck it, I am not as selfish as this bastard!

* Mahmoud Ahmadinejad -- "There are no gays in Iran. That is a phenomen unique to the United States."

FIELD REPORT -- Sunday

After dragging ourselves out of bed and packing up, we had brunch in the hotel. The Bride and Groom paid for everyone to have brunch on them, which was a classy and welcome send off. It also gave everybody a chance to say goodbye. For me, it was rather sad to say goodbye to Dr. J's godparents, Arlene & Joey (I wanted to cry!!!)

We finally had a few very special moments of bonding with Nicole and Mike, which I will always treasure. I know I have work conference in San Diego in a few years, so I will most definitely be looking forward to seeing them then (as well as Jesse, hee hee).

Nicole remains an amazing source of strength and support to Dr. J & I -- as a couple and as individuals. I have often said I wish Nicole and I weren't related through my husband -- she's that terrific kind of gal you want to confess all of your deep dark twisted stuff to (like Lori!), and get into all sorts of Bad Girl tourble with!

We also finally got to "see" why Nicole and Mike fit together -- sometimes couples are not so obvious on first glance (gawd knows Dr. J & I are not!) But now we know.

It was sad to leave everyone and drive up to the Bay Area, but we were excited to reunite with Adrian again, and were looking forward to our Napa expedition the following day, as well as meeting Kirsten on Monday night.

Line of the Day:


* Nicole -- "So I understand that Wes called every woman at my wedding reception a cunt. Except for your wife. He LOVED her!"

FIELD REPORT -- Saturday

Today was Wedding Day! But not until 5:30 p.m.

We drove around a bit in Morro Bay and finally wind up having brunch at Dorn's. Decent food, large portions, enough to sustain us until dinner.

Still having time to kill we went to downtown San Luis Obispo (which we love), and wandered into "Taste," which is (surprise, surprise), an ultra-modern and hip wine-tasting room that features 72 wines from San Luis Obispo County wines. It was sooooo cool! While there was a semi-knowledgeable woman working there (more on her later), you essentially purchase a debit card and then insert it into various slots and place your glass underneath a bottle to sample a particular wine. The wines are kept in climate controlled cases, according to varietal. It was really neat. After trying a half-dozen, we decided to buy a bottle for the bride and groom, as well as a full glass for both Dr. J & I.

Back at the hotel, I took a quick dip in our private hot tub, thanks to Dr. J's careful asistance. I say "careful assistance" because since I did not know ahead of time that our private tub would be on our patio, I neglected to pack a swimsuit. Oh heck, I don't even OWN a swimsuit. So Dr. J helped me slide into the hot water semi-shielded so I could relax pre-wedding, which I followed up with a nap while he showered.

Nicole and Lt. Commander Mike's wedding was held on the terrace of the hotel, overlooking the ocean. It was very simple, and very lovely. Mike had on his Navy tux, which of course I loved. The wedding guests featured lots of Navy types (including both of the groom's parents, a Commander dad and Chief Petty Officer mom), which had me all high! Nicole's best friend Meredith got "ordained" in order to marry them. During the ceremony, she revealed something about the Happy Couple that shocked just about everybody -- they had met on eHarmony.com!!! WHAT?! Everybody had just assumed Nicole had picked Mike up at some Navy bar in San Diego?!?! What a scream this revelation was!!!

The reception was nice, and the booze was flowing, which is always nice. There were a number of strange comments being tossed my way by one of the groom's Navy buddies, Wes, but thank gawd Dr. J and I have a shared borderline-disgusting sense of humor, and could laugh then and now about the whole thing.

Nicole beamed the whole night, which was the most important thing of all.

Lines of the Day:

* Ms. J -- "You know why this guy likes making pies? 'Cause his wife's face looks like ass."

* Ms. J -- (directed to Dr. J) "That chick pouring wine was your type. If you'd have been cleaned up you could have closed that deal." / Dr. J -- "I know. She gave me a better pour than you." (Note: I took photo of our glasses to illustrate this point).

* Uncle Joey -- "I never really liked the Romans. I mean rhones.


* Wes -- "I really like your wife. I wanna get with her."

FIELD REPORT -- Friday

We sleep off part of our hangover (bad Adrian, BAD Adrian), and set off for Morro Bay. But today Dr. J did the driving. About 15 minutes into 4 hour trip it's clear that we are having car trouble. I call Hertz and they (to their credit) lickety split direct us to a place in Palo Alto to exchange the car. So we do, and since there is a counter full of cute Asian women working there, for once Dr. is thrilled to have car problems, hee hee!

Well, since we are only a few miles away, we roll into Clarke's for some take-out lunch. Clarke's . . . ahhhh! Oh how we MISSED you, Clarke's!!!!

Then we drove onward to Morro Bay for the wedding. Uneventful, pleasant ride, in our newly exchanged semi-blinged vehicle.

Slight problem with check-in at the Inn at Morro Bay when they first assigned us a room WITHOUT a hot tub. Excuse me, I paid for a hot tub room. More importantly, I need a hot tub room.

Finally, we get one. And I am licking my lips at the thought of getting into it -- yippee!!!

So after a hot shower we meet up with Dr. J's godparents for dinner, Arlene and Joey. These people are true New Yahkers . . . gawd, I could ON AND ON about how freakin' AMAZING these people are!!! I just love and admire and respect them more than words can say. I could dedicate an entire blog to them, and it wouldn't be enough. They are fun, spirited, incandescent spirits -- and I am amazingly blessed to have them as my husband's godparents. Really. After a fantastic dinner & conversation at Hoppe's, we return to the hotel for a good night's sleep and . . . yeah, well, we get a good night's sleep, hee hee!

Lines of the Day:

* Ms. J -- "I could understand if someone decided to forgo sex for a Clarke's burger and fries."

* Dr. J -- "Did you feel that shaking?"

* Kirsten -- (via e-mail) "So in the middle of the night I wake up to Hiroshi trying to hump me. I start to turn toward him and he says 'Shhhh, go back to sleep. I got this one.' So I do. And I wake up in the morning to a clump of Kleenex stuck to my crotch. Nice of him to clean up afterwards."

FIELD REPORT -- Thursday

Yes, we are in Thee Land of Fruits & Nuts & Flakes -- a.k.a. Kal-ee-forn-yah!

Our first flight out sucked, due to some hick dad from West Virginia (first clue) sitting directly behind me being unable to deal with his 2 year old daughter's meltdown for the final 30 minutes of the flight. Dude, kids ears usually hurt during takeoffs and landings which is why it helps to give them a bottle during this time! Kee-rist, at least he could have distracted the little monster by giving her a toy or something?! But nope, and instead I was treated to blood-curdling screams and CONSTANT kicking of my seat.

By the time we landed in Chicago at 7:00 .am. we KNEW why people drink heavily during airport layovers. It was VERY tempting, let me tell you.

Second flight to San Jose was less eventful. Had a really nice college-aged girl sitting next to me, who slept most of flight. Dr. J & I amused each other most of the way by passing back and forth a book we are reading. We had to try and contain ourselves because we'd read a few sentences and start laughing our assess off about what this guy wrote. I want to SHOUT the author's name out, but since this wll likely become a Christmas present for a few key people I will keep it on the down low for now.

So we get to CA and head to the rental car place, which is apperently now Sikh Central. My, I had forgotten about them -- usually you encounter them working in banks. Hmmm.

We then headed for our first post-flight stop, which we had been DREAMING of for the past 18 months . . . yep, Amici's!!!! We settled in with our absolutely favorite superthin-crust, New Yahk-style pepperoni pizza and a couple glasses of Coppola red zin . . . Ahhhhhh. It's nice when things are as good as you remember them. It's even better when they exceed it. And Amici's certainly did. We were giddy and excited and relaxed and glad we had decided to come back to Mountain View, the town where we lived our West Coast Adventure.

But then it was time to meet up with ManHands, I mean Adrian (really, I shouldn't start off by insulting the hostess, hee hee!)

She still had a bit more work to do, so we strolled around Palo Alto and did A LOT of reminiscing about some really good times we had, what we missed, and what we didn't (hullo, hippies!)

With Adrian done with work, we followed her home to just north of Half Moon Bay and settled in for what I can best describe as a Frat Party revisited. In fact, this blog entry, while appearing as if I wrote it on Thursday, actually had to be finished on Friday morning, due to the excessive drinking and partying and general debauchery that transpired. God bless Adrian and Noah.

I am forever gonna be a big fan of great quotes, and thus I think the night is best captured through my sharing with all of you the awesome sentences I actually took the time to log into my Treo as they occurred (thank gawd it's the Silicon Valley and NOBODY thinks whipping out your Treo while drinking is anything but normal).

So here ya go, the best of the best -- so far . . .

Lines of the Day:

* Dr. J: "Gilles? Your French boss is named Gilles? Tell him his new name is GARY!"

* Adrian: "Gilles/Gary said to call you both 'Arrogant Americans'."

* Ms. J: "Adrian, there's no easy way to put this . . . I need to go have sex NOW."

* Noah: "Hon, I am going to be a little late. I am walking into a meth lab."

* Ms. J: (texting from the bed) "Kirsten, I wonder if Adrian knows which of her decorative guest bedroom throw pillows is best for elevating the hips post-coital?"

* Adrian: (examining a bottle of Costa Rican whiskey) "I don't understand the writing on this bottle, because it's not American." / Ms. J: "I think you mean English."

* Noah: "I'm calling you again because I am on my way to a shooting."

* Ms. J: "You're all phucking lightweights! Somebody do another shot with me?"

* Noah: "Why is Dr. J wearing a women's cowboy hat?"

* Ms. J: "Coach and Jonah won't stop sniffing my crotch. It's like they know?!"

* Dr. J: "Oh, they know. The dogs know."


We're setting off for Pismo Beach in a few minutes . . . Yee-Haw!

Cheers from here :o)

Full Circle Isn't Enough, Try a Damn Coil

I had the most insane day yesterday. Really.

Some folks have days that begin one way and then do a full 180 degree turn. Not me. And certainly not my Tuesday. Mine didn't even come back around and form a full circle. Instead it reminded me of a coil, making ring after ring after ring, but never quite connecting. Which was the trajectory of my mental state yesterday, too.

Day started off okay, with me semi-fresh faced and looking forward to a mildly productive morning. Then shit with gawddamn Homeland Security had me feeling so amazingly helpless and frustrated that I was in tears. Okay, it was more than tears. I had to close my doors and do the whimper thing, I admit it.

My sweet boss -- just before I shut the door to my office, but clearly "on the verge" so to say -- happened to peak his head into my office, took one look at my face and said softly "Are you okay?" I started to nod but then then slowly shook my head back and forth. He then whispered "You know where to find me if you need to talk" and exited. Clearly, the man is the father of two daughters and KNOWS when to leave a girl alone.

So I pull myself together and make it to my lunchtime appointment. I did so by employing my occasional technique of pretending I am Scarlet O'Hara when she says "Well, I'll think about that tomorrow" -- which is my way of shelving the shit, at least temporarily. (I call it a Scarlet O'Hara moment, but author Elizabeth Marquardt calls it the survivor technique of being a "chameleon" -- whatever, I am happy to just not be labeled "crazy" most days).

The lunch appointment went well. Actually, I take that back. It went REALLY well. So, that improved my mood greatly. Which lasted for the next couple of hours, thankfully.

Then I went to my rescheduled manicure appointment with Melissa. Damn, she should be allowed to bill my health insurance, I swear. And that goes for my hairstylist, Shannen, too. So Melissa does my nails, we each knock back a drink, and trade personal gossip and wild moments. So mellowed out, I then head off to an adoption lecture that Dr. J and I had signed up for.

Only I noticed I had missed a call from my boss while Melissa and I were having our giggly therapy moment.

So I called Boss Man, and find out that at the following day's BoD meeting (which I already knew would include a discussion about budget-tightening) one of the talking points would include cutting MY TRAVEL BUDGET! Worse yet, some BoD members thought that I should NOT go to Vegas for our big national conference, as a cost-cutting measure.

ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!?!

Cue the coil as I wrap right back around reality, and the happy, warm post-lunch-sliding-right-into-manicure buzz suddenly evaporates and the morning stress is right smack back! WTF?!

Oh no, people, I am SO going to Vegas. Don't even phucking mess with me on this one. Don't.

So now I am wound up tighter than . . . well, let's just say tight. And now I have to go to a lecture I so don't want to be at, and spend several hours mulling over the pending BoD meeting, and trying NOT to think about how much I hate having to be at this lecture because it's just a reminder of the fact that we are here after, well, you know.

I burst into tears in the parking lot from the compounding stress. I take out the stress by flipping out on Dr. J. Then I spend the next hour apologizing and feeling like a bitch, only barely listening to the lecture. Thank goodness Dr. J made fun of the oh-so-earnest and obvious Vegan couple sitting near us, as it got me to loosen up a bit, and I started to relax.

THEN the big ol' medical emergency happened. Some guy got up and walked behind my chair and out of the corner of my eye I saw him walk into the hallway and RIGHT INTO THE WALL, full speed ahead! Really. He just absolutely crashed into it, and then hit the floor, POW. I screamed for my husband, who jumped up and raced out to the dude, and yelled to a nearby security guard to call 911. Okay, so I had this mini "moment" if you will, where all of the other adoptive couples kept whispering to me "Is your husband a doctor?" and I was trying to nod solemnly, but inside was beaming for my man, who had taken control of the situation. And I knew I would be a little less resentful when I made out his next student loan payment.

Like I said, my day wasn't quite full circle, but a big ass coil . . . with my emotions going round and round, in constant motion but without a clear direction.

Oh, and by the way, this morning as I was trying to comprehend yet ADDITIONAL bullshit from Homeland Security (this is beyond yesterday's crap), I deftly took my Boss and the BoD President aside, separately of course (hullo, divide and conquer!), pre-BoD meeting and let them know my well-reasoned opinion on matters regarding my travel & expenses budget. When it came time for the budget discussion portion of the meeting, I (along with other staff) were excused from the meeting.

And 35 minutes later . . . I got the verdict:

VEGAS, BABY!!!!!!!!!!

Baby, I'm Ready to Roll

I made my Vegas flight reservations this morning.

Okay, so it's a work trip, and it's two months away, but I am strangely excited about going. A few days away in the Land of Outrageousness is always interesting, and I expect nothing less from this trip!

I have only been to Vegas one other time, back in 2002, while moving back from Kal-ee-forn-yah. Stayed there for 4 days, and enjoyed it! What's funny is that I spent maybe a whopping $10 on the slots -- I don't believe in throwing money away (I want SOME sort of return if I am going to do that). But thee people-watching? Oh my, FANTABULOUS (see Hamster, I worked "your word" into this entry!)

Yes, I do love people-watching! It rivals my love of t.v. And since I am told that the t.v. offerings in Vegas hotel rooms purposely suck (to lure you to the casinos downtstairs -- boo!), I guess people-watching will be one of my top hobbies while there.

I will be staying at Treasure Island. WHY? (I know, hardly the hotel that matches my personality -- hey, trust me, if they had a Hotel Helix in Vegas I'd stay there -- wait, WHY don't they have a Hotel Helix there?!)

Anyhoo, back to the "why" . . . it's a three-fold reason: (1) it's on the list of hotels for the conference I will be attending and across the street from the hotel the sessions will be held in; (2) NOBODY else from my organization is planning on staying there (please, leave me ALONE when I go back to my room -- do NOT call my room or cell once I have hit the sheets, thank you!); and (3) it's supposed to have some of the best beds in Vegas.

Yeah, yeah, I know, "it's Vegas -- why do you care about the beds?!" GUESS WHAT -- I DO CARE!!! I need comfort, I need style, I need some place to replenish, refresh, and escape at the end of a chaotic conference day. And I have learned the hard way that a sturdy bed and comfy mattress can make or break the experience.

So stay tuned for my review of the Trasure Island experience. Hmmm, the Hotel Helix had leopard print bathrobes in each guest room . . . I wonder if Treasure Island will have some pirate wench getup hanging in the closet? Yeah, right. I think that might be better left to mental fantasy, eh?!

09/11

People's memories are scarily short. Sometimes today I felt like I was one of only a handful of people who remembered that 3,000 people were phucking SLAUGHTERED on American soil on this day, a short six years ago.

Thank God I have a family and a few close friends who remain as angry and pissed off as I am, to this very day. And will be forever.


http://attacked911.tripod.com/

Five Things

* Five Things I Despise:

• Conspiracy Theories/Theorists
• Whiners
• People Who Pretend to Support our Troops
• Bad decisions
• Indecisiveness

* Five Things I Adore:

• Nate
• A lengthy, deep-tissue massage
• Fall TV debuts
• Lisa's rants
• Dr. J surprising me, in subtle ways

* Five Things I Need:

• Hope
• Pick-Me-Ups
• Big, enveloping hugs from behind
• To go away for Christmas this year
• An approved I-171H
  

* Five Things I Want:

• To be a trophy wife
• To lose just 10 more pounds
• To have a kick ass Chinese New Year party -- and really mean it
• Disposable income (so I could get, whenever I want: massage, facial, pedicure, new undies, and a steady supply of pretty lil' dresses)
• A ginormous gift card to H&M
  

* Five Things I Have:

• Friends who climb into the trenches with me


• A husband who lets me cry and still thinks I am strong


• A Dad who would kill for me


• A Mom who will still do my laundry if I need her to


• A cool job
  

* Five Things I Like About My Personality:

• Tenacity


• Good with money


• Possessing the ability to intimidate other women, when I want or need to


• A wicked sense of humor


• Lack of a "filter"
  

* Five Things I Like About My Body:

• My Hair
  

• That I Don't Have Back Fat


• My Calves


• That I know how to "plate the entree," so to say


• Being curvy

* Five Things I Need To Change:

• My bedtime

• My level of frustration

• Gyms

• The PA LCB

• Resetting my "motivation clock" to a time earlier in the day

* Five Things I Miss (serious answer):

• Being able to walk to the Y


• Seeing Hot Mary and Shannon at "High School" each workday
  


• Worrying about little things instead of big ones


• Proximity to decent vineyards
  


• All of the delicious and varied food offerings in Kal-ee-forn-yah
  

* Five Things I Miss (semi-smart ass answer):

• Star Jones being fat


• The pantyhose Casual Corner sold (they went out of business, dammit)


• John Henson hosting "Talk Soup"


• Wendy Bell's blog


• Eating whatever I want, whenever I want
  

* Five People I Miss:

• My Poppy


• Glady


• Johnny Carson


• Ronald Reagan


• Winston Churchill

* Five Things I Pray For:

• Strength & Courage (they go together, I think)


• Happier times, to begin to soften the painful ones that remain ever-present


• The ability to enjoy "the moment"


• Stillness


• My Husband

You Wanna Be On Top?

I was a bit of a bum today. We went to Aunt Lee's for her Labor Day Luncheon (hey, steaks were on the menu, so we would have gone no matter what the holiday theme).

My Uncle Freddie got me loaded up on cheap Chardonnay, the bastard (nobody else drinks in my family, 'cept for Dr. J & I). So by the time we got home around 4-ish, I was experiencing that post-afternoon-of-drinking sleepy feeling, which lead me to crash on the couch for several hours, catching up on the reruns of reality fare.

One of my faves, "America's Next Top Model" was on MTV. Sigh, I do love this show. I admit it. Plus, I have loved Tyra Banks since she first started showing her ta-ta's for Victoria's Secret (another one of my loves, sigh).

Aw hell, I love t.v. in general. It's my #1 vice. And I don't care what anyone else thinks.

Now I don't think everything that Tyra Banks does is all that, but I find the show fun, so I tune in. Plus, my girls and I have found fun ways to incorporate the Tyra terms of "fierce" and "rock it" into our vocabulary. We like to mimic the them song to the show, too, when Tyra looks at the screen and challenges viewers by asking, "You Wanna Be On Top?!" Oh yes, Tyra, we do! We want it all!

Namely, we want the chance to get horizontal with "noted fashion photographer Nigel Barker." Meow!

Kirsten and I even like to cheer each other up by signing off our e-mails with such sage advice as "Oh honey, I know your life sucks right now but don't worry . . . you're still in the runnign to be America's Next Top Model!" (Only a true "ANTM" aficionado would understand!)

The new season of "AMTM" starts September 19th and I can't hardly wait!

All Alone, and Thrilled By It

Normally, I look forward to spending my weekends with Dr. J. Getting to catch up is nice, of course, after a hectic week. But probably more than anything else, I genuinely enjoy his company. Even mundane tasks, we somehow manage to make fun! I swear, two people have never managed to make grocery shopping as much fun as we continually do. It's corny and ridiculous, but we actually never pawn this chore off on the other, because we find grocery shopping akin to a weekend comedy hour (strange, but true, we admit).

So this Saturday, I couldn't get back to sleep after Dr. J went into the office to see a few patients. We set out for errands after he got back in the early-afternoon. We got about 2/3's of the way through when one of his patients called, needing to see Dr. J in a bad way. So I was promptly deposited at home so he could rush to the office to take treat his patient.

I sat there at home, all by myself for several hours . . . and I couldn't stop smiling!

I am so excited for my man -- that he is getting busier, that he is needed (by people other than me -- and by people who PAY for his services, hee hee!), and that word is getting out about how talented he is.

Yep, that's my guy!

Kicking Off the Weekend Right

Labor Day Weekend was FINALLY upon me -- and not a moment too soon. Not to sound too Valley Girl BUT, I was sooooo ready to get things started.

But first, I had to leave work early to deal with this damn security system BS at the house. Ugh. Don't ask -- I don't even want to get started on it. But hey, at least I got have some fresh air blow across my cheek as I continued to work from my computer at home.

After finally finishing an important memo for work, I slipped into one of my favorite dresses and started my Friday evening by meeting a friend for a few drinks. It was a great way to set the mood for a festive weekend. The sweet potato fries also helped, too.

I then sprinted home, changed clothes, and went with Dr. J to the "bonfire" at our friends house. Shannon and Eric have a large yard, and a fire pit out back. Hard to believe, but I have never had a smore before! I would describe it as . . . a bit overrated. In retrospect, I much prefer cinnamon graham crackers to plain ones, so maybe that had something to do with it?!

However, I completely ADORE toasted marshmellows, and could eat them endlessly, so I was most definitely sated that night, hee hee!

Ping-Ping

Okay, I hope I am not recounting too much of what some of you already may know, but if I am bear with me (it's hard to keep track of who knows what sometimes -- some folks are more interested in the tiny details than others, ya know).

Let us scroll back our collective calendars to July 26th, while I was in Ft. Lauderdale. As you may recall, we were scrambling to get our I-600A form ("Foreign Orphans Petition" filed with Homeland Security, because effective July 30th, the fee would rise from $540 to something like $685. BUT in order to do so we needed the completed Home Study from Catholic Chairites and our caseworker MaryLou (the lady with the breathy, high-pitrched voice, remember?!) Mary Lou had said it would only take her 3 weeks to complete, and it was going on week 5 (note: even 5 weeks is amazingly fast -- most places take 3 months to complete this report!) But we finally get it, and while I am in Florida Dr. J submits the I-600A and the notarized Home Study (you will learn the power of a notary as this SAGA phucking continues!)

We also had to send Homeland Security a check for $140 ($70 each) for "Biometrics" -- which is the fingerprinting they do on us now, and again before we leave for China, years from now.

On August 1st we receive a letter, DATED July 30th, from Homeland Security to get our asses down to their Pittsburgh office THAT WEEK for fingerprinting -- WOO HOO! That was SUPER-FAST!!! (MaryLou was amazed). Now, the letter tells us if we don't make it down there THAT week (which gives us until Saturday, August 4th), we can only them come down on WEDNESDAYS in the weeks after for fingerprinting. (Please note, my Wednesdays for the several weeks following were already scheduled up REALLY tight, which meant we were even more motivated to get down there THAT WEEK).

So the following day, Thursday, August 2nd we decided Dr. J will pick me up at my office at 11 a.m. and we'll go downtown, get fingerprinted, grab a quick hot dog at Franktuary, and then he'll drop me back at work. Only I wake up Thursday morning not feeling so hot. I puke about 4 times before I leave for work. But dammit, I am determined to go in to the office and get this "biometrics" thing over with.

I get to work, puke a good dozen more times. Everyone at office is whispering I am pregnant -- FOR THE LAST GAWDAMN TIME I AM NOT PREGNANT! I want to burst into tears every time someone makes that joke! (I know THEY don't know my history, but I will NEVER make that joke to someone EVER again!)

Dr. J picks me up. I am so sick. We get to the parking lot. Of course we have to drive up 10 twisty ramps to the 10th floor to find a mid-day parking spot. I am seriously ill at this point. I finally admit there is no way I am gonna make it out of this car, let alone walk 3 blocks and be fingerprinted. And now my lower abs-area HURTS! He calls our GP, and both think it's appendicitis or an ovarian cyst (I know it's not, but am too ill to speak). Next thing I know I am being examined on a gurney at Mercy Hospital, and being given intravenous shots of nausea medication (5 in all, and 2 shots for pain). They make me drink mass quanitities of this gawdawful contrasting dye to prep me for a CT Scan. I make it into the tube for the scan, but the moment I am out, BLEH -- up comes the contrasting dye (made it into a can, thank gawd). Everything on my body hurts and I am sick as a phucking dawg. I was at the hospital for 6 hours and SURPRISE, NOTHING WRONG WITH ME, except for some 24 hour vomitting virus. I go home, sleep for 12 hours (That is probably the most shocking thing of all). Went back to work the next day, feeling 70% better, but with nada appetite.

Finally, on Saturday, still a bit icky, we go down and get fingerprinted. No line, easy deal. Thanks goodness.

Soooo, on August 7th Dr. J and I had to Mercy Hospital again to our G.P.'s office (we usually go to an office of his much closer ot our home) to have him fill out yet another series of medical paperwork on us. Although we already had him give us physicals to satisfy Catholic Charities, we need another series of paperwork to certify us "healthy" for the Chinese government. Oi Vey. Only, Holt advises us to sit there with the physician, and make sure he doesn't put down that Dr. J takes allergy medicine (don't ask, apparently it doesn't make the Chinese happy -- they see it as "Respiratory Problems"), yadda, yadda.

Part of having the physicals done AGAIN by our G.P. at Mercy involved us having to have a "travelling notary" show up at Dr. Patel's office and certify Dr. Patel's signature as being indeed his. Really. Again, required by Chinese Gov't. It took Dr. J alot of effort and phone calls to find a notary who would travel, and on short notice. But he found one who would come out, for a $50 charge (not unreasonable, in notary world -- but we had been having everything notarized via "State Senator Hottie's" office, who was doing it for free as a "constituent service"). But hey, what could we do, right?!

So much for keeping the adoption on the "down-low" at work . . .

Well, the Travelling Notary showed up on time, and they showed him into the exam room where the three of us were (we were all dressed -- it was just paperwork, actually) . . . and the notary was a rather active member of my organization. Really. A former past-president of our Board of Directors, even. Sheesh. Unbelievable. Phuck.

It's not that the adoption is some shameful dark secret, but I wanted to keep it under wraps at work, lest I encounter the following:

1. A bunch of intrusive questions about my gynecological well-being (it's ALWAYS 100% the woman's problem, right?!)
2. A bunch of suggestions to "Just Relax" or "Try Doing it In the Back Seat of a Car on prom Nite" (yes, I have had this said to me -- and by two different people!)
3. Interrogated as to "Why China?" (WHY NOT! Everything else is made there!)
4. Worries that I am going on some sort of maternity leave TOMORROW (hullo -- it takes 2 years to get her through customs -- but explaining THAT somehow makes me an ambassador of all things adoption and they then want to have the ENTIRE process explained in-depth!)
5. Questions about whether I will still be working at mu current job (yes -- because I need to pay off the adoption and re-invest money in my retirement account)
6. Assurances that "you'll get pregnant while you're waiting" -- as if I am going through the expensive, time-consuming process of adopting because I think it's a magical fertility treatment?! (Um, never wanted to be pregnant in first place, folks! And certainly don't want to ever again! It's just a means to an end!)
7. Don't want to be continually asked "Is she here yet?" (Um, no, and you asking me over the next two years will not pass the time more quickly for me, thank you very much).

Luckily, I was honest with my boss about this all along, but I still had to tell him about what happened with Notary, so he could be prepared when/if he starts getting inquiries about all of this from others in the organization.

One good thing, the notary -- being a member of the organization I am employed by, he refused to let us pay him the $50 fee he had quoted on the phone. "Professional discount," he said. Then he asked me about any upcoming golf outings. Okay, I see where this is going! Must find a couple golf outings to send him to, gratis. Will do!

The following day I had to go in for my polypectomy and another D&C. Guess what?! They get in there, and NO PHUCKING POLYP! Just a build-up of endometrium [sp?], which they scraped out. Sometimes this happens -- it presents on the sonoHSG as a polyp, but isn't in the end. Still, it ticks ya off a bit to have your va-jay-jay in pain and go through taking time off work, feeling like shit, put my sex life on hold, yadda, for NOTHING!

Honestly, my life IS stranger than fiction!

While all of this was going on, in early-mid August I decided to go back to see my prior counselor for a couple of sessions. Didn't want to while home study was going on, out of fear of being labeled something I am not (like psycho) though I did disclose I have seen one in past . But I was having a lot of many dark moments again, so to say (not like I am gonna hurt myself or anything dumb like that -- but like bursting into tears, more easily irritated than usual, lack of concentration, easily frustrated, yadda, yadda). Also, I kept having these "flashbacks" about the m/c -- to specific moments, and they would seemingly come out of nowhere, and all of a sudden my throat would tighten up and I was wanting to cry uncontrollably, and at inappropriate moments, like a business meeting.

Sorry, don't mean to sound messy. Just acknowledging some tough moments. And with the adoption finally feeling "real" I know I need to deal with this some more. I think I was also hyped up via a new round of suddenly pregnant women popping up everywhere I turned. I know the "it just happened" pregnant folks (grrr!) will never go away -- so I need to cope better with how I deal with them. Cause at that point my best coping mechanism was fantasies of mowing them down with a dump truck.

I am kidding. Sort of.

So fast forward (a little bit), to the following week. We FINALLY had all but two pieces of the adoption paperwork Holt needed collected, notarized, and FedExed off to Holt -- woo-hoo! (The two things we still needed were a copy of the photo/signature page of our passports, which we applied for the first week of June, but still hadn't arrived yet, and the I-171H form from Homeland Security -- more on both of these later].

Dr. J and I were soooooooooo proud of ourselves, getting everything in like this, so quickly and efficiently, despite some obstacles! But then it was like . . . take a step forward, take two steps back, take a step forward, no, two more phucking steps back . . . and here's why . . . .

We get an e-mail from Holt that about 75% of the notarized adoption paperwork we sent them had to be RE-NOTARIZED, by a different notary! WHY?! When you get something notarized it will say that the notary's "Commission Expires _____" and give some date in the future. Two of the three notaries we used had commissions that expire in November 2007. (The travelling notary had one expiring in 2010). WELL, Holt said the Chinese Gov't will want to see these forms notarized by folks whose Commissions expiring at least 6 months from now, so we need to find notaries whose commissions expire in 2009 or later, just to be on the safe side.

WHAT THE FUCK???????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I understand the problem, I don't even question it. But why the phuck weren't we warned of this BEFORE we had all of this shit notarized!?!?!?!?

"State Senator Hottie's" office has THREE people who can notarize documents -- two of whom have commissions that expire in 2010. WE used the one who had the commission expiring in November 2007, of course. OF COURSE! So Holt was returning all of this gawddamn phucking, phucking, PHUCKING paperwork, we which had so quickly and proudly scrambled to complete to us. MOTHER-PHUCKERS!!!

So upon learning this info on Wednesday, August 15th, I had what can best be described as a full-fledged meltdown. Dr. J was with a patient when I learned all of this via e-mail, so I called my friend dear Lori and just SOBBED on the phone. I literally whined to her, (I hate whining!)through my tears, "It's just not fair! I feel like saying phuck all this and going to Dr. Wakim's office and telling him to shoot me up with those eggs so I don't have to deal with all of this judging and public bullshit anymore." She was very soothing, didn't try to "fix" anything (I hate when people do that -- cause there's NOTHING to fix, the process IS what it IS, and can't be changed). But my nerves were so damn raw.

That night I took a LONG walk after work, and re-grouped a bit. Okay, I figure, better to know now than later (like when dossier is sent to China), and because they can't send dossier to China UNTIL we recieve from Homeland Security the I-171H form, it's not like we are truly being delayed, just more like friggin' annoyed and inconvenienced. Deep breath.

So the next morning I began scrambling (LOTS of phone calls) to find notaries who do have commissions that expire years from now. More on this later (yeah, can you believe there is still MORE to the notary saga -- cause I am tellin' ya, this part of the story ain't over -- it's more like a friggin' Lifetime movie mini-series!).

So Thursday morning we had to haul ass back down to Catholic Charities so they could fill out a form that Holt required (I swear, we could have filled out on our own, and mailed in, and Holt would be none the wiser) called the "Medical Conditions Checklist" -- which is basically a form that says which medical conditions you will or won't accept in a child referred to you. It was actually a good vent session with Mary Lou, who validated a lot of our feelings. Just having someone acknowledge our feelings, and understand the process, is immensely helpful. I actually now like Mary Lou.

We even told Mary Lou that is was a semi-relief that all (lol) we have to left to pay for is the $9,600 fee due when we accept our referral (and hey, we will have a good 22 months to save up for that, right, lol?!), and the $3,000 approximate travel fee for China (which we would credit card anyway -- I always credit card travel arrangements, as a cover your ass thing, in case there are any problems). We even said that in the end, this is not quite as expensive as we thought, but that is because Catholic Charities charges a lot less for things than say Bethany or Adoptions from the Heart (two, local, private adoption agencies that are popular with local folks who adopt internationally).

When I got home from work on Thursday, August 16th, we had a surprise in the mail . . . an envelope from Charleston, SC (who the hell do I know there?!) MY PASSPORT WAS THERE!!! Woo-hoo! It seems they process it at a facility in Charleston, SC (important point for later, I promise). This is VERY good, since a copy of the passport (certain pages) is also a requirement before our dossier is sent to China. I had applied for mine only a few days before Dr. J did for his, so we expected his to arrive in the mail a few days thereafter. We THOUGHT, I stress. Guess what, more on THIS later, too!

It was one of those "paperwork pregnant" moments, that you wish you could shout about to everybody, but know that few will understand, LOL.

So I followed up by e-mailing Masha Ma at Holt (our "Dossier Processing Specialist" -- yes, the Chinese lady) about receiving my passport, yadda, some other details . . . and Masha shoots back with:

"When you mail me the final document I-171H, please include the following payments for certifying and authenticating your dossier:

- $180.00 check made to "Commonwealth of Pennsylvania"
- $265.00 money order made to "The Chinese Consulate"

AAARRRGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

This is in addition to the costs spent FedExing all of our shit back and forth between us and Holt, and Holt & Commonwealth of PA , Holt and the State of New York (because Dr. J there for 18 years) and the Chinese Consulate.

AAARRRGGGHHH!!!!! Like I said, take a step forward, take two back. Grrrr.

So on Monday morning of this week, we go back to "State Senator Hottie's" office, this time to have Brianna, who's commission expires in 2010, re-notarize these documents. Only Brianna is NOT in the office she SWORE to me that she would be that morning, but rather one across town. We're annoyed, but okay, we drive over to that office. She notarizes them by attaching a page to them stating that "on this date, personally appearing before me were . . . (our names & addresses) . . . yadda, yadda" and she stamps the letter, yadda. GREAT!

On Tuesday, August 21st, my boss is back in office and I find one of our Board members who happens to be a notary with a commission expiring in 2011, to agree to notarize the signature of my boss on my employment verification letter. Of course, I had to let this Board member in on the whole gig. Sigh. He took it better than I thought. Turns out his daughter is adopted, too (she's white like them though, and my age). But he was more sympathetic and less cranky than usual when I told him why I needed this done, on short notice.

So Tuesday afternoon I am looking over all of this re-notarized shit when I notice that on the notary letter that Brianna has attached to FOUR of our documents . . . SHE HAS SPELLED Dr. J's NAME WRONG -- HIS FIRST NAME, EVEN -- MOTHER PHUCKING KEE-RIST!!!!!!!!!!!

Don't even ask if the Chinese Gov't will be okay with this. You KNOW the answer is a big whopping NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh wait, it gets better . . . Brianna left for vacation on Monday afternoon. Gone for the rest of the week. Really. I told you this notary thing reads like a Lifetime movie script!

So remember I said "State Senator Hottie's" office has TWO other notaries with good commissions? Well, I track down THE OTHER notary, Will, who works out of an entirely different district office of "State Senator Hottie" (he has three offices in his district, which is pretty typical for a State Senator).

So on Wednesday morning we trudge over to meet with Will (thank gawd my boss is either absentee lately or good-natured about me being so late to work each morning -- I'd have been canned at my old job by now). He notarizes these documents (now, remember, this is the THIRD time for these documents), and bless his heart spells our names correctly.

I happen to mention that my passport arrived, but Dr. J's hadn't yet. I just casually mentioned it, not expecting anything by it. He asks me if I am tight with another in either Congressman Murphy or U.S. Senator Specter's office. I say "yes, I used to work for Senator Specter's Chief of Staff." -- NOTE: "Hottie", Murphy, Specter are all Republicans, like myself, and thus I know these staffers well because (a) I am a lobbyist and am in contact with legislative staff frequently, and (b) Republican staffers tend to be a tight group, we watch out for one another, and help each other out when it comes to job opportunities -- I am sure the Dem staffers are the same, though.

So Will then gives me the name of Corene Ashley, who works in Senator Specter's office, and says she works passport magic, and I should call her, mention Will giving me her name, yadda, and see what she can do.

I trot back to my office, while Dr. J goes off to FedEx to Holt these three-times gawddamn notarized set of documents. I call Corene, explain what's going on, and how I used to work for Specter's now-Chief of Staff (that definitely softened her, though she was a REALLY nice lady anyway). She says she'll look into it, and call me back. She calls me back around 2:30 p.m., same day, WEDNESDAY of this week (this is an important fact!) Says she has the passport people on the other line, and asks me for some more information. She then calls me back at 3:30 p.m., and says they will "expedite" processing of his passport. GREAT, I say, and thank her for her time and effort, and tell her how awesome she is, yadda.

Now, let's consider THIS Thursday morning, August 23nd (yeah, just the other day!) My boss is away on a business trip, so I decide to sleep in an extra hour. While I am getting ready, I think I hear a knock at our door (doorbell is busted), but dismiss it, since there is construction going on at dilapidated house across the street from house which is being renovated.

OF COURSE, I missed a FedEx delivery. WELL, when I tracked package online and it is coming from Charleston, SC, which is same place MY PASSPORT came from -- and only LEFT there at 6:34 p.m on Wednesday, the SAME AFTERNOON Corene and I had spoken -- who else would send something overnight like that to us?!?! Later that day, Dr. J would pick up, at the Fed Ex warehouse, HIS PASSPORT!!!!!!!!

THIS WOMAN IS A GODDESS, DIVA, ROCK STAR, ALL ROLLED INTO ONE GIANT PACKAGE!!!

THUS, all that is left then is to receive the I-171H form from Homeland Security (and through my ability to navigate federal agencies I made a contact there who said our I-600A should be processed this week, which would then mean we'd receive the I-171H "approval notice" by next week), which we then would send to Holt, and then they send EVERYTHING to be "authenticated" by the PA Secretary of State and the NY Secretary of State, and then . . . dossier goes out to China!!!

Yes, we're still probably 4 weeks away from that magic package (called "the dossier") being shipped out to China, but I feel like . . . well like if we were in the IVF-world that we just had egg retrieval and told some of the eggs are viable!!! Silly, I know, but not sure how else to explain it?! I guess then when the dossier is mailed to China we'll consider it to be the "embryo transfer," and the Log-In Date (by Chinese Gov't) to be our "we're pregnant" moment?!?!

So a little bit excited right now, though tired and worn out from all of the "August drama" . . . letting small bit of hope back in. SMALL, please keep that in mind.

We're still waaaayyy broke right now. My hair is desperate need of a cut and some, um, toning. I am in-between gyms right now (cost-cutting measure), and we can't afford a present for the Nicole's wedding in CA next month (but hey, we'll be there, and she said that's present enough). Forget eating out anytime soon.

And I am still quite raw, emotionally. I had my post-surgical checkup with my terrifc Ob/Gyn, Dr. Khalili yesterday. Got a clean bill of health. He thinks we'll still wind up pregnant on our own, but is very respectful of our decision, and has been a tremendous source of support to me, personally. He actually said "give me a hug!" What a guy -- I adore him!!!

Life is still hard, tough. Still plenty of tears. Lots of stress, with the bills and Dr. J TRYING to get patients in, and us only having one income and 3x's as many bills. Sigh. So I still need everyone to please bear with me if I am flying high one minute and a cranky, depressed bitch the next.

And I am sorry this is blog entry is so long. But those of you who have been there for me (and if you have been, YOU KNOW IT BECAUSE I HAVE SLOBBERED ALL OVER YOU TELLING YOU HOW MUCH YOU MEAN TO ME!), well, this is "what has been going on with me." Sometimes it's just too stressful for me to discuss . . . people will ask about how you're doing, but so few are really interested in the truth. And though I may seem like such an open book, those who truly know me are well aware that there about a gazillion layers to me, and it's only through a serious amount of trust and support that that I ever let anyone peel even a sliver of those layers back, and begin to see what is really going on inside me.

But I needed to vent. And thus, you get "The Ping-Ping Missive."

Love me anyway, por favor?!

Cheers.

Kirsten is DRRUUNNKK . . . Kirsten is DRRUUNNKK!!!

So Ms. Kirsten/Chrissie/2.0, having gotten her twins off to bed last night, and apparently home alone, settled into her evening with a bottle of riesling and a bag of Cheetos (nice pairing, my dear . . . though "Hamster" and I would challenge you to booze throw-down of chili & champagne).

Ya gotta love when a gorgegous, Japanese woman drinks alone, blackberry in hand, and sends you a stream of e-mails with all sorts of crazy, drunk thoughts!!! Who knew she worried about whether her heartbeat was too loud, and that she could feel her eyeballs pulsing?! LMAO!

Here's just one classic gem Kirsten sent out as her "Angels Report" last night:

• "Thought I would share. Since I'm drunk. I am without sense right now. Even my crotch is drunk. I think I peed a little on the toilet seat. I started before I sat down and hit the edge with the edge of my thigh. My big fat thunderous lightning conjuring thigh."

Okay, I have no idea what that last sentence of hers means?! I do know that Kirsten is most certainly NOT fat. Not in the slightest. She was skinny before the twins. She gained 60 pounds with them, and lost all but 5 of these pounds. And word is that her boobs look better now. Whatever.

Lest you think Kirsten mismanaged her drunk time, let me correct you -- she also used this time to count the bottles of wine in her home (24), and toast herself a 90-calorie waffle. Yee haw, you wild woman! She also cried recounting the fact that she had watched a UB40 video on t.v. the other day (the "Red, Red Wine" video).

Of course, inevitably her stream of semi-consciousness turned to S-E-X. See, we Angels (as in "Charlie's Angels," being Adrian, Kirsten, and myself) have been trying to talk Kirsten into giving her husband a very special birthday present, hee hee! And I guess ingesting a bottle of wine was making the gift suggestion, um, a hell of a lot more attractive than it was when she is sober.

But Kirsten's wacky thoughts got me thinking about "drunk sex" in general. And about how much fun it is, from time-to-time, to just have a little too much to drink, get that warm and toasty and cheerful feeling (at least for me, since I am a happy drunk), and just throw caution to the wind and give things a whirl that you wouldn't normally do. I live such a structured life nearly 24/7, and with my adherence to things like calendars, "to do " lists, my exercise regime, and chores, well . . . it's sometimes just so gawddamn freeing to give in to that little devilish part of yourself, the part that forgets to say "no" and instead lets you drop your inhibitions and rules and focus on just pure pleasure!

Mmmmmm ;o)

Superbad

For the second week in a row, Dr. J and I went to the drive-in. Last week we saw "The Bourne Ultimatum," which ROCKED!

This week, we went with my favorite boy cousin, Dave, and his adorable wife, Natalie.

We saw the just released flick, "Superbad."

Holy PHUCK!

IT WAS PHUCKING HYSTERICAL!!!!

This movie selection was a major departure for me, as I almost always prefer action/adventure-type films, but gawddamit, it was so funny!!!

Both Dr. J and I urge all to RUN to the theatre to see it ASAP -- it's gonna be a cult classic kind of movie, for all time!!!

It was so good that I am jealous of any teenager graduating from high school this year, as "SuperBad" will be one of those generational milsetones for them.

McLOVIN 4EVER!!!

Mental Snapshot

What a mixed-up two weeks I am having. So much has happened, and yet nothing has changed. I have about a thousand things I should be writing about, and yet I have no patience to really sketch it all out, from a literary standpoint.

So I will cop out, and just do a quickie list-type entry, which will have bits and pieces that will make sense to some people, none to others, but plenty to me (while accurately reflecting the mental jumble that is my brain).

Commencing Random Thoughts:

* I love the show "Confessions of a Matchmaker" -- not only is Patti a hoot, but it makes you think about how YOU would be critiqued if on a date.
* My stomach still has not recovered from nauseaville, I swear. I can't seem to fully shake this thing, even though it's definitely improved. If I drink any more diet ginger ale I may float from all of the carbonation.
* "The Bourne Ultimatum" freakin' ROCKED! It was worth the wait.
* Seeing a movie at the drive-in was divine -- we had such a blast, especially munching on Chinese food during the opening scenes.
* I can't believe how quickly we've been able to submit all of our adoption paperwork -- I am proud of us!
* More and more excited about going to Kal-ee-forn-yah next month. Just hope we don't get too tempted to move back?!
* People, pick your mate well! It astounds me sometimes the bad choices people make when it comes to life partners.
* We like our house, but hate our kitchen.
* I never thought I'd feel worse a few days after surgery than the day of it?! My abdomen alternates between soreness, pain, and feeling like jello. UGH!
* Along the same lines, I can't wait to start resuming my workouts in earnest. But at the same time, I am so pooped that it's hard to imagine getting up to full speed anytime soon (but I'll probably be okay by the 4th workout, if the past is any indication).
* Ventured to IKEA this weekend. Managed the experience better than I thought. Even managed to bring hope with me.
* Hamster and I are going to navigate through the next few years just fine. She is such a treasure, and makes me feel pretty darn useful, at a time when I feel pretty damn useless.
* Dave and Natalie are very special people. They make my heart full, and they make it ache.
* Still praying like crazy for Shannen.
* My husband may not be the toughest guy in the world (um, that would be Jason Bourne), but he is tough enough to handle my tears. Every last one of them. And with the same genuine concern as if they were the first to have ever fallen.

Gym Crazies . . . and How I Met My New Southern BFF

Proudly, I did manage to work out each day of my business trip. This is not easy, considering the temptation of things like, um, sleep, and having one more round at the bar instead of retiring to the hotel room or sneaking in a mid-day workout.

But Thursday morning I did haul my ass to the hotel's fitness center, bright and early. Not easy, since I typically workout in the evenings on weekdays, and mid-afternoons on the weekends.

I spotted one of my colleague-friends, Cheryl, there as I dutifully climbed aboard a treadmill, next to a very pretty brunette, whose name I would later learn is Heather. I was cruising along for about 10 minutes when some late 40-ish woman came into the fitness center in nothing but a tired bikini and a crocheted coverup that failed to even skim her bottom. And flip flops. And she had leave-in conditioner in her hair. Really. I watched her climb on to an eliptical and begin to work out. I was so incredulous at this sight that I turned to my right, mouth hanging open and what I am sure what a confused expression on my face, when Heather looked at me and we both began to giggle at our shared judgmental expressions, LOL! Always nice to have someone confirm your thoughts, eh?!

Our giggles turned to "ICK" when the same woman sat down on a weightlifting machine and began to do about 4 (yep, a whopping 4) reps. Now, remember that her coverup does NOT cover her ass, so I am thinking, "ick, who KNOWS what she's got going on south of the border, and she's pressing that bare flesh onto a place I was planning on sitting in about 30 minutes?! YUCK!" Now you KNOW as soon as she left the next person who got on that weightlifting machine cleaned it off BEFORE they sat down, in addition to after!

But wait, it got even more bizarre . . . soon thereafter in walks yet another swimsuit/coverup-clad woman, CARRYING A STARBUCKS, who hopped onto a treadmill. Really. Who brings a hot beverage onto a treadmill? What kind of workout are YOU planning, dipshit?! About 15 minutes later, I notice that this idiot's husband is carrying wet, brown-stained towels to and from her treadmill because . . . YEP . . . she spilled coffee all over the treadmill! But Heather and I looked at each other incredulously because Ms. Starbucks pussywhipped-husband actually cleaned up the treadmill while his wife was still on it! That's right, she kept walking while he cleaned up her spilled coffee, which I am sure made for a sticky mess as it dried throughout the treadmill's gears. What an ass -- BOTH of them.

Which brings me to my new BFF, Heather. We saw each other a few hours later at one of the conference sessions, and wound up hanging out for the rest of the conference. Heather is my age, from South Carolina, and has a stunning engagement ring, just like me. We mutually expressed admiration for one another's jewelry and hair, which is always the start of a beautiful female pairing. Throughout the remaining days of the conference, we easily chatted about everything and anything . . . both our fathers-in-law are anesthesiologist, we both went to private colleges up north, our mutual love for Nino Scalia (she met him, and admitted to being star struck). We even shared shaving tips -- always a true mark of female bonding.

So, in spite of the gym crazies, I met my new work-travel BFF, and can't wait to see Heather again when I go to Las Vegas in November :o)

Kirsten's Hot vs. Not List

Kirsten recently sent us her only semi-kidding list of what's hot, and conversely, what's not. Then she challenged us to do the same.

Since I absentmindedly forgot to pack anything to read on my 2.5 hour flight this morning to Ft. Lauderdale (more on that later), I had plenty of time to consider her challenge. Sometimes I found myself giggling in my plane seat at the bitchy lunacy my own brain came up with (I am sure some of the fellow passengers were thinking to themselves, "Damn, what's that crazy chick listening to on her Ipod?!")

So, inspired by my business trip AND the current lovely beach locale I find myself in . . . here ya, go, Kirsten/Chrissie/2.0:

HOT: Men who look just perfect in a breezy, button-down beach shirt
NOT: Men with nasty feet who wear sandals. Nasty hands also.

HOT: Women who look sexy with tossled, day-at-the-beach hair.
NOT: Women who clearly should not wear a thong. Not under their clothes, and certainly not at the beach.

HOT: A great suit on a man, complimented by a crisp shirt, interesting tie, and braces.
NOT: Cheap dress shirts, and boring ties or (worse yet) those clearly bought by his kids.

HOT: Sneaking out of afternoon conference sessions for a drink at the bar. Or better yet, a quickie roll in the hay.
NOT: The pain-in-the-ass colleague who shows up at EVERYTHING, can only talk business, and acts like you're insane for wanting to discuss non-work topics.

I know there's more . . . but the comfy bed of my hotel room awaits and I am endeavouring to haul ass to the gym tomorrow morning, so TTFN!

Trophy Wife Travel Network

My job entails a fair amount of travel, including some out of town trips, though many times it is to the same 2 or 3 places. I enjoy it though, it breaks up the monotony of sitting behind a desk, and hey, ya gotta love those expense checks for the mileage (yep, I love making extra money via those, hee hee!) Plus, twice a year I get to go to cities for national conferences that are rotated throughout the country, which has an cool, exciting element to it.

Due to all of this travel, I get the opportunity to stay in a wide range of hotels. Over the years, some have been good, some not-so-good, and some downright gross and/or scary (hullo, Appalachian Conference in Kentucky!)

I have found that the decor of a hotel can have a lot to do with the quality of my stay. If I like the design of the lobby, the furniture, the color scheme in the room, it can go a long way towards whether I enjoy my stay or not. In that regard, I am drawn to places that have more modern or contemporary touches to them, or even silly/funky ones (yes, Hotel Helix, I am referring to your shagadelic self with the leopard-print robes). If a hotel has those big, faux-velvet stuffed chairs in a fun color, it definitely puts a smile on my face, as for some reason I just love those chairs, and wished I had one at home to sink into!

There's always the tendency to stay at a hotel where you've already had a good experience. But sometimes I will have to venture to a city whose hotel offerings I am unfamiliar with, or maybe I just have the urge to mix it up a bit. As a result, I have become a big fan of the Trip Advisor web site, which allows you to research hotels based on the more honest recommendations of regular folks who have stayed there. Sometimes they even post their own room and lobby photos, which is a nice touch.

Later this year I must travel to Las Vegas for a weeklong conference. Trip Advisor contributors have recommended one hotel in particular as having thee best beds in all of Vegas . . . we shall see!

Happy 4th of July!

Nobody ever said it better, and today is the perfect day to listen to it over and over again:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YDecLiA_Qbw

I truly LOVE when men speak like this -- with conviction, purpose, and strength. They're not worrying about bullshit like offending pansies, pissing off the pundits, or seeming insensitive. Gawddamit, they are only interested in WINNING -- to preserve the American way of life, to keep us safe and sound.

LONG LIVE PATTON'S SPIRIT, AND THOSE OF MEN LIKE HIM!!! (soooo hot, as I am sure Adrian would agree!)

So everyone enjoy the YouTube clip, and/or read the words below, for a lil' patriotic pick-me-up . . . .

Be seated.

Now, I want you to remember that no bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country. Men, all this stuff you’ve heard about America not wanting to fight, wanting to stay out of the war, is a lot of horse dung. Americans traditionally love to fight. All real Americans love the sting of battle. When you were kids, you all admired the champion marble shooter, the fastest runner, the big league ball player, the toughest boxer. Americans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser. Americans play to win all the time. I wouldn’t give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughed. That’s why Americans have never lost and will never lose a war. Because the very thought of losing is hateful to Americans.

Now, an Army is a team. It lives, eats, sleeps, fights as a team. This individuality stuff is a bunch of crap. The bilious bastards who wrote that stuff about individuality for the Saturday Evening Post don’t know anything more about real battle than they do about fornicating.

We have the finest food and equipment, the best spirit and the best men in the world. You know, by God I actually pity those poor bastards we’re going up against. By God, I do. We’re not just going to shoot the bastards, we’re going to cut out their living guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks. We’re going to murder those lousy Hun bastards by the bushel.

Now, some of you boys, I know, are wondering whether or not you'll chicken out under fire. Don't worry about it. I can assure you that you will all do your duty. The Nazis are the enemy. Wade into them. Spill their blood. Shoot them in the belly. When you put your hand into a bunch of goo that a moment before was your best friend's face, you'll know what to do.

Now there’s another thing I want you to remember. I don’t want to get any messages saying that we are holding our position. We’re not holding anything. Let the Hun do that. We are advancing constantly and we’re not interested in holding onto anything except the enemy. We're going to hold onto him by the nose and we're going to kick him in the ass. We're going to kick the hell out of him all the time and we're gonna go through him like crap through a goose.

There’s one thing that you men will be able to say when you get back home. And you may thank God for it. Thirty years from now when you’re sitting around your fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks you what did you do in the great World War II, you won’t have to say, "Well, I shoveled shit in Louisiana."

Alright now, you sons-of-bitches, you know how I feel. Oh, and I will be proud to lead you wonderful guys into battle – anytime, anywhere.

That’s all.