I'm baa-aack

So I know it's been about a century since I last blogged, but I touched down in the United States last week and I've been busy ever since. First, let's start with my harrowing journey back home. 

Though I love sitting in airports and people-watching, I'm not a big let's-hang-out-in-the-airport-for-8-hours-waiting-for-our-flight sort of gal. But, for some reason, every time I travel with my family this is what ends up happening. Probably because I'm always the one that pays for my ticket, while they use their airline miles, which they have a lot of. This inevitably puts us on different flights during a single 24-hour period, so here's me hanging out in the Buenos Aires airport for a total of 8 hours waiting for my flight, after my dad, mom and sister all depart hours before me for theirs. 

When it's time for me to check in, the American Airlines lady tells me I'm going to Los Angeles. "No...," I say, "I'm going to San Francisco." 

"No...you aren't," she responds, staring blankly at her computer screen. Luckily I have a printout of my itinerary, which I show her. "This is strange," she says, looking over it. Ten minutes of her tapping on a keyboard and a phone call later and she tells me my connecting flight from JFK to San Francisco is canceled -- and the next available flight they have for me is the following day, connecting through Los Angeles. Ugggh. 

I refuse to believe that there are NO other connecting flights I can snag the day I arrive in JFK, since I'm arriving at like 6:30 a.m. and I reeeeally didn't want to spend an extra night in a hotel (missing J like crazy at this point). So I tell her fine and figure I'll haggle a same-day seat on a plane out when I land. 

The plane ride to New York is long but pleasant since the seat next to me is empty. Highlights include watching Water for Elephants and Arthur, along with making out the Amazon river below by moonlight as we fly over the Amazon. 

When I land in JFK it takes forever (as always) to get through customs, and after standing in a ticketing line for 30 minutes I'm told I have a confirmed seat on a connecting flight at 6pm. I'm equally happy and pissed -- happy 'cause I still get to go home that day, pissed because I have to sit in the airport for 12 hours. The rest of the day is spent watching CNN on the overhead televisions and adding myself to standby lists on each San Francisco flight. A crowd of about 20 shares my plight, and they crowd the standby desk in front of me, yelling at the flight attendants that they need to get on the flight. Flight attendants, unfortunately, are not magicians, and cannot make more seats appear -- especially when American Airlines "overbooked every flight" that day, they say. Some of my standby amigos yell obscenities, a portly French girl begins to cry and shout some pretty nasty French words (as my limited knowledge of French would lead me to believe). 

I sit on a nearby bench taking pictures of this and trying not to laugh. At 7am, wearing the same clothes I wore 24 hours before, I find this all very amusing. No anger is getting any of us on this flight. This fact is apparently lost on these people. After the group parts I walk up to the desk and ask (very sweetly and very calmly because these people are essentially the gatekeepers) whether there is any way at all that I can get on the next flight out at 3 p.m. Attendants actually smile back at me and pleasantly explain the situation, which I nod at and say I understand. The last thing I'm in is a good mood since I'm greasy and tired and missing J, but I crack a few jokes with them and they laugh. The female attendant tells me she'll try her hardest to get me on the next flight, but no promises. I thank her, since that's really all I need to hear. 

One thirty rolls around and I make my way to the other gate, where the standby list has just appeared on the screen near the desk. And what do you know -- my name has been moved up to #2! Score. Thank you flight attendant lady. The standby crowd has joined me in the area, and has resumed yelling at the new attendants at the desk, as though this is really going to get them a seat on the plane. 

Plane pulls up, your truly gets the last seat. Angry people are left yelling and crying at the gate. Moral of the story: You attract more flies with honey.

When I landed J met me at the airport with a big bouquet of pink flowers (love him) and I couldn't stop hugging him. Though I had a  fantastic time in Buenos Aires, after the fourth week I was ready to come home. I missed J like whoa and was having (if truth needs to be told) major sex withdrawals that started about a week or two into my trip. (Whoever said sex wanes with marriage obviously isn't in my marriage, where frequency is taken to almost teenage proportions.)

When we got home he had his anniversary present to me sitting on the couch (it was one of the Kate Spade bags I wanted) and we pretty much did not leave each other's side all weekend. As cheesy as it sounds, I don't know how I lived before J. Sure I had serious boyfriends and I dated casually between them, but no one is like J. He really is my heart. 

Anyway, this weekend will officially be dubbed The Weekend of Real estate. We're going to our realtor's party tonight that she throws every year. She invites all her business clients and friends and serves unlimited margaritas all night. Obviously I am game. Then tomorrow we're going to start touring properties with her. I CAN'T WAIT!!!!

A good example of a proper crowd wave

Waiting for stage set-up.

Little late to the game with this post, but the U2 concert last week was spectacular. The venue, which holds 69,000 people, was sold out -- though I heard on the news later that many weren't able to make it on time because of terrible traffic jams near the coliseum and little to no parking after the concert started. Oh wellsies, we got there on time! Lenny Kravitz opened, and it was a blast from the '90s watching him perform. Partially died when he played "It Ain't Over 'Til It's Over" (my anthem in college) and "American Woman". After Lenny's act was over, there was a 45-minute lag before U2 started. And you know that means....crowd waves. Big ones. Here was the view from our tier:

At one point during intermission, all three tiers had giant crowd waves circling the coliseum. It was in-cred-eeeb-lay. Precisely why I dig concerts so much -- the audience's energy is always so infectious and exhilarating (okay, maybe not always. There was that time I saw Gordon Lightfoot, well two times, when the audience was very mild-mannered and remained seated throughout, politely clapping after every song. But even that was tons of fun. It was Gordon Lightfoot, for God's sake.)

ANYHOO, then U2 came out and of course they were divine, though I'm still of the mind that Bono needs to 86 his weird, see-through shades. For some reason they remind me of something a pervert would wear. 

With so many people packed in and screaming, I wondered if that's what it must have felt like going to a Beatles concert back in the day. Not that I'm comparing U2 to the Beatles (sorry, they're untouchable), but in terms of legends U2 comes close.

Bono and The Edge

She blogs, finally

My buddy Neil in his salad days (1971).

I think this is the longest I've gone not blogging -- and that includes those three weeks in South America two years ago. I have become a bad blogger (insert self-deprecation here). As a friend of mine would say, "My badsies." How did this happen? I really have no excuse since it takes, what, maybe an hour to write a decent post? And it's not like I'm traveling through a third world country on the hunt for inconvenient pockets of spotty wi-fi; RATHER, I am sitting in a tony suburb having the occasional glass of Veuve in the afternoon (there's always a right time for champagne) and...writing.

What have I been up to lately? Listening to a lot of Neil Young and doing a lot of writing. Yesterday I freelanced all day, not because I had to but because I wanted to (that house down payment is ohsoclose). By the end I was nearly cross-eyed from staring at my computer screen all day, but I was satisfied. So I put on some Neil Young and danced to unwind. Right now I feel like I should be freelancing as much as possible since these summer months are crucial for us to save the last of our down payment. Our apartment lease is up in July, after all, and we don't want to have to rent month-to-month for longer than a few months. Hopefully we'll have at least put a bid on a place by the fall. Real estate is definitely my porn, so it's very exciting scoping out Redfin every day, obsessively taking notes from HGTV's My First Place and balancing our budget to make this happen.

When I'm not freelancing, I'm editing the manuscript (can I just say writing it was a lot more fun than editing it? I've already gone through all the ink in my first red pen and the pages look like they were used to clean up a murder scene -- they are bleeding red). When I'm not writing and editing, I've been reading Mario Vargas Llosa's Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter (hilarious book -- read it), and working on my fitness. I do power yoga on Mondays, pilates on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and two hours of tango on Thursday night, which is a workout in 3-inch heels. Last week my tango instructor invited me to his salsa class, so I'll be adding that to the mix as well.

The children are doing well. Gidget (aka Cacahuete) has adapted to her surroundings swimmingly, as Lola did when I first adopted her. The other day it dawned on me that I've created a makeshift animal sanctuary of sorts, where homeless pups (and a cat) are spoiled rotten, given warm, fuzzy beds and blankets, and are hugged and petted incessantly. This has done wonders not only for their well-being, but also for my stress level. Ten bucks says a highpoint of Lola's life was when I picked her up yesterday and we danced to Neil Young's "Harvest Moon" while Gidget danced around at my feet.

Neil aside, the only complaint I have is that J's been MIA the past few days with a mad rush of billable hours. But then I step back and survey the situation, and honestly I can't complain. It might not always be like this, since nothing is permanent, but every morning I wake up so thankful that this is my life. I love what I am doing; J loves what he is doing. We are happy together and excited about our plans for the future. I can't help but be appreciative. Every single day.

The big news

We have a new addition to our family!!:

Gidget

 

This past weekend J and I went to the pet store to pick up a new collar for Lola. The county animal shelter was holding an adoption fair near the front of the store, and this adorable chihuahua was sitting quietly in her pen with about five barking dogs. Of course, I had to walk by the pen two or three times and fawn over her and the other pups. Then J held her and, well, it was all over from there.

She is 6 years old, 3.5 pounds (tiny!!) and was found as a stray by the pound. She's very calm and shy, and seems to have been abused and over-bred. (How could anyone abuse such a little peanut? Beyond me.) She does have semi-severe hip issues that will most likely require surgery in a few years, but we didn't care. She had three days to get adopted or be euthanized, and the latter was definitely not an option. I'm a sucker when it comes to an animal that needs a home. 

I wanted to name her Cacahuete (Spanish for "peanut") but we decided to go with something a little shorter: Gidget.

You know it's almost summer when...

...you start figuring out your summer concert schedule. I used to be an avid concert-goer (think upwards of 10 concerts per summer), but these days I'm supposed to be saving for adult things like a home (I swear, watching paint dry is faster and less tedious than saving for a down payment. Siiiiigh). 

On a side note, we've had a change of summer travel plans. We're renting a pied-à-terre for a month in Buenos Aires this summer, which I am happy about since August is official tango month in Argentina, and well, Buenos Aires is one of my favorite cities on the map, but that means -- after buying my plane ticket last week -- that summer concerts are somewhat low on the priority totem pole. BUT, it turns out a friend has three tickets for U2's 360 tour that he can't use since he'll be in Manhattan all month recording with his record label. He offered to sell them to us over dinner on Friday night, and how could I say no? I would never let three perfectly good U2 tickets go to waste.

J. Me. My sister. U2 on June 7th. Inner Chihuahua doing back flips. (And because these tickets were not cheap, they BETTER play one of my favorite U2 songs of all time that I first became obsessed with as a wee 6th grader who loved her Mtv):

I'm sure they'll play my second favorite U2 song, With or Without You (so cliche, I know). 

Oh yes, and I've got some big news I'm planning to blog about on Wednesday. May is turning out to be an excellent month. :)

Carmel birthday, in pictures

I had the BEST weekend in Carmel with J. 

Our hotel room -- a small British-style cottage with a private entrance -- was beyond adorable. When we checked in, a bottle of Sherry and a welcome kit for our dog were already waiting inside, and we didn't have to use our car once all weekend since our room was on the main street near all shops and restaurants. I didn't want to leave! It's been a dream of mine my whole life to own a vacation home in Carmel, so we also browsed real estate in the area (just for fun) and let's just say the prices are a little high: bungalows and cottages start at about $2 million-plus. Nevertheless, I quietly added this dream to my bucket list. ;)

Our front door.

 

Banksy-style art on the outside of our chimney.

Wine tasting (above and below) at Vino Napoli.

Noshing on the Antipasto Misto, a platter of salumi, cheeses and olives.

The Tuck Box English Tea Room.

Watching the sunset during our hotel's wine and cheese social.

Dinner at Porta Bella's. The food and ambiance were amazing.

At the beach.

The Cheese Shop, one of Carmel's must-see places. The shop has over 300 different kinds of cheese from all over the world, and tasting is encouraged. We were given about 15 different cheeses to taste, and told the background on each type. Highly recommend a stop here.

We heard the best Bloody Marys in town were at A.W. Shucks, so we had to give them a whirl. They were divine. So good, in fact, that we ended up ordering five of them, along with plates of fresh oysters (below) on the half shell.

One of the many adorable little alleys lit up at night.

The aftermath

Well, semi-aftermath since this Venga Bus birthday party celebration is just getting started. But yesterday was my "real" birthday, and I got plenty of amazing surprises. A delivery of super cute flowers sent by a friend, a fun shopping spree, my parents surprising me by showing up in town with a big flower bouquet of their own and a good friend treating me out to late-night drinks were some of the highlights.

But the coolest part of the whole day was after dinner when J and I returned to the car, and there on my seat was a Tiffany's box wrapped with the signature white ribbon. (Inner-chihuahua --> psychotic) That flash of Tiffany blue and white is enough to make any girl giddy, and sadly I am no exception. As I was opening it with the goofiest of wide smiles, J told me not to get too excited because it wasn't jewelry or anything. Well when he said that I knew exactly what it was, and I was right: The Tiffany's porcelain box I've wanted for the past two years!!:

So cute that he actually remembered I wanted it since I've only publicly mentioned the thing twice. And I LOVE it. It's currently sitting on my french country bath stand filled with my rings. Good man.

A celebration to last throughout the years

The next two weeks are going to be some of the busiest I've had in the last six months, but for good reason. It's my birthday next week!! (continue with copious amounts of exclamation marks here). And being that my two favorite holidays of the year are Valentine's Day and my birthday, The Day of My Birth must be celebrated accordingly, much like Jesus'. Meaning it is a weeks-long affair, just like my wedding was. (If you can't already tell, I love a good celebration.)

So I'll be gone this weekend visiting friends and family as we pre-celebrate and indulge in ice cream cake and fondue (calories don't count during your birthday month, obvi), then my actual birthday is on Tuesday (April 19th), followed by the highlight of festivities -- J is taking me to Carmel to celebrate! 

I grew up about an hour from Carmel and since childhood it's been one of my favorite places to visit in-state.

We've decided to lux it up for a long weekend at a cute B&B on Ocean Ave. (the main street downtown). I can't wait to check out our digs since from what I've seen online the place looks ultra adorable, with a stone fireplace, a yellow and white British cottage-style motif, and a wine and cheese social every evening. And is it wrong that I'm kind of excited to be staying a block away from a Tiffany & Co.? Perhaps the weekend will be my chance to practice the art of persuasion. ;)

Anyway I'm really looking forward to trying some of the many restaurants I've read rave reviews about (including Casanova's, dubbed Carmel's Most Romantic Restaurant, and La Bicyclette) and doing lots of shopping and wine tasting. All with my best friend and partner in crime. I cannot wait. 

The following Monday my good friend from New York is flying in with her new baby to spend a couple days here in the city with her husband (who's on business). I can't wait to meet the baby and catch up with my friend since talking on the phone while 3,000 miles apart just doesn't cut it. Her visit constitutes a special b-day present in itself. Later that week my friends are heading over here to throw me a little birthday shindig/Cinco de Mayo party (margaritas, anyone?), and that should wrap up my month.

Oh, and I should point out that in none of this have I even mentioned the royal wedding, which is going to be a celebration in itself at our household, replete with British flag cupcakes and English cucumber sandwiches. (J still hasn't gotten the memo about why we must celebrate this event. But that's okay. I just continually reply "God save the queen.")

Spring and summer dress roundup

Spring is here and that means yours truly is delighted to update her wardrobe for the impending hotter months. Not like I don't have enough clothes already (the other day while J carried a pile of clothing behind me that I needed to try on in-store, he suggested we institute a new rule in our home: Every time I buy a new garment, I give one away. I laughed and suggested just buying a bigger place...with a walk-in closet the size of Mariah Carey's. That would be amazing.)

With that husband/wife truce aside, I've been busy hitting the racks looking for cute new dresses -- many of which I'll be taking to Europe with me this summer. So far here's the loot I've ended up with:

My latest find from H&M. I love the ultra short length coupled with the covered chest/shoulder area, making it not look so hooker-ish (is that a word?) I also love that it's a pretty good replica of the Miu Miu bird print that is all the rage right now.

Another short, lightweight dress I recently found. Perfect for Greece with a big floppy sunhat, woven hobo bag and wedges.

I loved the retro pattern and colors on this dress and it fit like perfection so I had to have it. It's very Mrs. Robinson when paired with heels.

I'm always a fan of the nautical look and this short cotton dress was no exception. I like pairing it with the belt shown (which I already owned) and -- wait for it -- wedges. (Yes, I'm a bit wedge-obsessed.)

I know this tank-and-high-waisted-skirt-dress look was big last year, but I liked how this dress updated its take on it. When it's on a body (and not the carpet) the skirt tulips over the tank with cute pleat detailing. Also love the light shade of gray and that it has pockets.

My sister bought this dress at a Mango store in Italy a couple years ago and I've wanted it ever since. Last week she finally gave in and said I could have it. It fits like a DVF wrap dress and is made from a light slinky fabric so it's perfect for summer in Europe.

The infamous turquoise dress from Nordstrom. Luckily size 4 fit perfectly and I can't wait to wear this on my birthday! Reminds me of something Trudy Campbell would wear in Mad Men.

I snagged this dress at White House Black Market. It's made of a stiffer brocade and is knee-length, so it'd be perfect for a more formal summer dinner or luncheon. I paired it here with some turquoise jewelry I own. Up close, the pattern on the dress (below) is a fabulous paisley. Loves.

Wondercon in pictures

Sadly there were no Ryan Reynolds sightings at Wondercon on Saturday (he was there, I heard, on Friday), and even though I was a bit out of my element I still had a wonderful time rubbing elbows with people much more knowledgeable about comic/pop art than me AND I even got to meet the infamous Elvira, which was...well, surreal, since I remember loving her back in the '80s when I was a kid. Another high? Standing two feet away from the Lou Ferrigno. Amazing!!

Lou Ferrigno: The original hulk.

Richard Kiel, who you may know from such movies as Happy Gilmore, The Spy Who Loved Me and Moonraker. Kiel is HUGE and tops out at 7'2''.

Elvira: The original creator of The Poof.

And this is...not me...posing with Elvira.

The throne from Game of Thrones, which is premiering on HBO soon. I haven't read the books but I've heard many good things -- my brother is absolutely obsessed with the series.

We got to watch Jon Favreau (awesome!!) and Roberto Orci talk about their movie coming out called Cowboys and Aliens, and were also shown a nine-minute sneak peak from the flick.

Favreau seemed very cool and humble, nothing like you'd expect from Hollywood.

After the Cowboys and Aliens panel we walked around the convention center and I found a booth selling the funniest merchandise all based on humorous puns. I had to buy the postcard above since it makes me laugh every time I look at it. To check out all their merchandise visit www.conducthappiness.com.

A life check-in

Let's see, what's been going on in my life recently...

First off I am now officially a freelance writer and I love it! There's no dearth of article assignments, so between that and editing my book I've been busy, but I must say I'm enamored with the freedom that comes with being able to do freelance work whenever and wherever I want.

Also, as you all know, I started tango last week and had my second class last night. What a difference a week makes. My first class was fun but a practice in letting go. This week I was 10 folds better about allowing the man to lead and submitting like a good little tango dancer should. I was so much better, in fact, that Marcelo showed the class examples of new dance moves using me as his partner. I was pretty proud of myself because this would have never happened in my first class. There's a milonga (tango dance party) every Friday night in the area and a few of my classmates asked if I was planning to come tonight. Apparently it is the place to be (I'm imagining the slow-motion black and white opening scene of Dirty Dancing with flashy magenta script across our writhing bodies) but I already have plans so I told them I might go next Friday. With or without J. I've read that the people in the tango community here in the Bay Area are some of the best in the U.S. and so far I agree. They're positive, upbeat people who are very welcoming to newcomers. Love them. Now I just have to find my own pair of tango shoes, since I'm currently borrowing my sister's pair that she picked up in Buenos Aires. My favorite so far has been these:

Speaking of my sis, she's taking a few days off from her job as a tennis pro to spend the weekend and part of next week with me. Can't. Wait. She only lives an hour away in Los Gatos but doesn't visit much because of her schedule. Needless to say I'm amped for her arrival tonight. We always have the best time and, when we're together, end up doubled over laughing daily. We're planning lots of shopping, noshing and trip-planning for Greece/Italy this summer. 

Other than that I'm headed to Wondercon this Saturday with J and my sister, where we'll meet up with a good friend of mine. I'm not into comic books but I do like seeing movie stars (hello Ryan Reynolds?!) so it'll be a good time.

How much money is enough?

Great car, great man, great weather. Life is good.

The other day something my dad told me when I was young crossed my mind and since then I can't stop thinking about it. 

"As people get older, no matter how much money they have, it's never enough," he told me. "You have more bills, more responsibilities, bigger desires." Of course when he told me this back when I was around 16, money was fun but it wasn't everything. I was in high school and worked part-time at Pacific Sunwear (not like I wasn't already at the mall enough without that job). My biggest concerns were friends, boys and clothes. Money was an afterthought. As long as I had my bi-monthly paycheck and I could afford to pay for frivolous amounts of clothing at Forever 21 and all the gas needed for cruising the strip downtown (yes, we were very American Graffiti) then I was happy. 

From age 16 to 25, my father's words never quite rang true and so I assumed they must have only applied to him. But then this crazy little thing called 30 started knocking on my door the other day, warning me of its impending entrance into my life in about one year, when I realized, suddenly, that my dad was completely right. I have more money now than I've ever had since leaving the comfortable confines of my parents' house for college many moons ago. If I see something I want then I buy it. Rarely do I have to "save up" for most of my purchases (purchases like homes aside) -- a far cry from where I was just one year ago in DC. I now dine at fine restaurants, drive a nice car, tote around my stash of Nars as though I've owned it my whole life. So why isn't it enough?

Needs aside, I think what it basically comes down to is the more I have the more I want. I know that money isn't everything (in fact if I could pick just one sticking point for my entire life it would be perfect health), but money is amazing. It's fun and so far it's freeing. Suddenly things I never imagined owning or doing in my 20s -- designer things (aka not from Forever 21), trips to cute destinations like Napa, routine massages -- are a reality. It's surreal. And as disgusting as it sounds, it's not enough. I don't know why I should feel ashamed or apologetic for saying it.

I want more; I want better. Not just material things, but experiences, tastes, sights. I love where I am right now and I enjoy myself in the now, but I never want to stop fine-tuning our guage so the only way is up. Maybe I'm turning into a full-blown hedonist. Who knows.

We all have different wants and needs, but I think my dad was right: The more comfortable you grow to be, the more your standards rise. In turn many of us are forever playing the magpie -- reaching for that sparkly whatnot just out of fingertips' reach. And once you're able to grab at it, then there's something else even sparklier on the horizon. Your nest and your memories become more distended by better things and better experiences but you continue reaching. Because everyone should see a sunset over the Mediterranean once in their life, because that wine aged 18 years was the best you ever tasted, because that nice car you commute in to work makes you smile each time you fasten your seat belt. 

I guess we continually strive for more because we want to top what we've already done, no matter how great.

Athens to Rome or bust

Fabulous news, lambs: I'm doing Europe this summer!!!

I'm going with my fam, which is great since that means my sister (aka one of my BFFs) and I can hang out shopping together every day in "giant floppy sun hats" as she says. I concur. She and my mom are going to Turkey for three weeks in June, then taking a train to Athens, Greece where my dad and I will meet up with them. From there we'll explore Greece and some of the Greek islands. We're still planning an approximate route from Athens to Patras, which is where we'll cast off for Corfu, but I do know that Corfu will be our last Greek locale before taking a ferry over to Italy. 

Once we dock at the port city of Brindisi in Italy, we plan to rent a car and drive up to the Abruzzo region, which includes some of Italy's best medieval castles and villages. (The area is also where Clooney's The American was filmed.) Towns I want to see there include Castel del Monte, Sulmona, Castelvecchio, Pescara and Teramo.

From Abruzzo we'll head back down the boot and cut over to the opposite coast. Again, not sure how far south we'll go -- we might try doing Sicily, but we're not sure yet. I do know we're planning to head up the Amalfi coast where we'll rent an apartment or villa in either Naples or Sorrento for a week and use it as a base for day trips to places like Positano and Pompeii. At the end of our trip we'll fly out of Rome after spending a couple days there too (funny enough I am the only one who wants to see Rome again, everyone else is sick of it. How anyone could ever get sick of Rome eludes me.)

Anyway, mapped out our trip is going to look something like this (not counting the still-unplanned path from Athens to Patras):

One thing I love about traveling with my family is that they're a very off-the-cuff bunch, especially my mom. Making sure we know exactly where we're going to spend each night is not their style, which means advance hotel reservations aren't in their vocab. We usually pick a starting and ending location, buy our plane tickets, then plan a rough idea of where we might be every couple days. Aside from our rented apartment on the Amalfi coat and whatever hotel we book in Athens when we land, I have no idea where we'll be staying along the way and I love the spontaneity of that. I need a good adventure.

Anyway, is it weird that I've already started packing? I guess its symbolic of my near-pornographic eagerness to get this party started. The last time I went on a major trip was when I went to Rio and Buenos Aires in the summer of 09. As on that trip, J won't be coming on this one either since he has to work, but he's very happy for me (I think some of that may have to do with the fact that he can play golf the entire month of July without me getting on his case about it).

The best thing of all about this trip, over all the indigenous olive oil and pasta and wine I'll be consuming? I don't have to ask for any time off to do it. I'll be gone for three weeks and no one can tell me I can't have those days off or I can't leave for that long or any other bureacratic bs. Winning!

Reason #112 why I love my husband

Last night I was in the shower when I heard our pup going crazy at the front door -- meaning J was home from work. After he popped his head in to say hi, I asked what he wanted for dinner since we had nothing planned. He told me not to worry about it because he had a surprise for me. "Ok...," I thought, with shampoo in my eyes.

After I stepped out of the shower he'd just finished arranging this masterpiece, which he'd placed on our table with two glasses of wine:

He may not be the perfect man, but he is perfect for me. I love him.