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I hate when I have a good weekend. Sure, it's nice for my stress levels, my mood, and probably my health but it makes for lousy posting. It's usually not funny in any way because often the best comedy is pain + emotion, and it's hard to condense the good stuff. When you have a bad weekend you sum it up quickly and tell the horrible/funny story and everyone goes home happy instead of exhausted or bored from all the verbiage. Like now when I can see your eyelids narrowing. You suspect that this is gonna be a bad way to spend your precious afternoon break. CORRECT! GIVE THAT (WO)MAN A COOKIE!

Honestly, my weekend was fabulous. I was a bit late to dinner with Mair and JMC because of traffic . . . AND SEE THERE IT IS? WHO FREAKIN' CARES ABOUT BEING LATE? My eleventh-grade English teacher said I had verbal diarrhea - and if you knew her, you knew it took everything in her to be that vulgar so I REALLY deserve it.

ANYHOW. Dinner was delicious and the Ristorante Piccolo was the perfect place to celebrate M-lo's newly minted Masters of Sociology. YAY, MAIR! We had a scrumtrulescent wine with it, this one (scroll down to the second bottle, enjoy deciphering the Italian), a Chardonnay from an Italian vineyard called Pravis which will knock your Chardonnay-loving SOCKS OFF. No idea what it costs without the restaurant mark-up, but I'd put it firmly under the $20 mark. Probably closer to $10. RIGHT, OKAY, NO MORE ABOUT WINE.

The rest of the weekend with them was quiet and relaxing. We got up late and made cinnamon rolls, which has become tradition among us such that they made sure to ask if I had any on Friday night. It's not a real visit without cinnamon rolls, and frankly, I'm okay with that! They left for a wedding in the evening and I decided to paint the hardware for the kitchen cabinets that night. Boy was THAT an adventure. I managed to do it without drips and with decent overall coverage. I also chose to do it barefoot, so my feet were covered in primer and red paint. I was all ready for my bit part in a video of Annie Lennox's "Walking on Broken Glass."

Sunday morning we went to church, which they enjoyed, and then shared a lunch. Soon it was time for them to go. As they left, I wondered what I'd do with myself. It was Sunday and Hubster was working. I've learned to deal with that, especially with the carrot before me ("it's just temporary, only a little while more . . ."), but yesterday I was over it. I wanted to spend time with him, period. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option, so I chose the next best thing - getting household projects done so that when he did have free time, I'd be free too.

So I painted all of the cabinet doors, back and front. And then I took my already tired self to the Junior High youth group Yoga event where I proceeded to have the best workout ever. It felt so good after months of putting it off or doing it irregularly, and our teacher was amazing. I limbered up my breathing after holding in my stomach WAY too much for months, I got a good explanation on the correct of alignment of the deceptively simple-looking Downward-Facing Dog pose, and she really stretched my lower back. Yesterday I did not feel so much "good" as "very sore" but it was worth it, especially for my desk-sitting back.

Today, I put up the cabinet doors with the freshly-painted hinges. I can't do the top shelves without some help to hold them up, so the picture will wait until I've hoodwinked some unsuspecting soul into helping me out. Until then, mis amigos, I bid you "ciao" and promise to write a trifle tomorrow before I leave for another convention. When I return you'll be treated to another overly long post. Believe me this hurts me as much as it hurts you.

Question to Thursday: Where's the fire?

The power must have gone out briefly yesterday afternoon because my kitchen clocks were all wrong that evening. As a result, I wrapped my Mother's Day packages for the moms in my life (start deducing, Mom and Mumsie!) and absentmindedly watched TV, not noticing how the day changed into night. I turned in after 1am, so I slept in till 8:30. Correction: I tried to. The cats started in with their morning ritual of torturing my dozing self a mite early today. At 7:15 they started with the persistent yowling, and the walking all over my prostrate self with no regard to how my nerves and soft tissue might feel about it, and the licking of the arm skin. Cat tongues being known for their sand-papery consistency, this has the effect of making me tuck my already too-warm self under the covers just so I can keep the first layer of epidermis full attached to my person.

I raised the white flag at 8:15 and fed the poor, starving, spoiled brats. I honestly cannot WAIT until K resumes those duties. His current schedule makes it easier for me to do it, but we're going back to the right way of doing things ASAP - he wakes up early and I get to sleep without cat paws ramming me in the AM.

Also, the fire is gone. Monday I was burning up with ideas and potential to get things done before Mair and JMC showed up on Friday and noticed that I lived in a disaster zone. Now? I didn't get too much done, but the task list seems to have ballooned while I worked. I know, I'm being really whiny. But every time I turn around, I've made the house messier, I haven't gotten enough done, and I'm tired of feeling like the mountain WON'T GET SMALLER. Anyone else with me, or have you retreated to your happy place instead? In California as we tucked in some fries with our delicious In-N-Out burgers, Bee said, quite casually, "I think this is my happy place." Mine, for the moment, is Ristorante Piccolo in Georgetown, staring across the table at my friends and sipping some wine. That'll do nicely, especially since that's exactly where I hope to be in a little over 24 hours.

Sweet Fancy Moses!

I admit that is another title ripped straight out of a commercial. I don't even know what they're advertising - I think it's about something manly because there are two plastic men talking (sans facial expressions) and one details how his wife wants him to install a koi pond in his backyard and the other one reacts by saying "Sweet fancy Moses!" in the best old man deadpan ever. It cracks me up. I think it might be the response that my new favorite shirt would get from them, too. I got it on clearance at Old Knave (that "k" is pronounced in my friend E's version).

Oh, and speaking of E, she just had her second little papoose and I hope that doesn't spill the beans to any of our mutual friends, but AAAAH! I'm a pseudo-aunt again! Weeeee!

I also decided to take the day off today and I'm so geeked about it. My mother's Mental Health Day policy lives on. I decided I was too stressed to handle company this weekend and errands and yardwork and cats with lizards and everything without a break. I had already planned dinner with KL from church, and I had some DELICIOUS spaghetti with kalamata olives, capers, anchovies, roma tomatoes, and roasted red peppers. We had a good old chat in which we concluded that the world is messed and we are blessed. Familiar territory but important nonetheless. Plus, the middle school youth group has a yoga lesson (!) on Sunday night so I'm going to show up and show off AHEM, CHAPERONE. It's positively made for me.

Well, I'm off to change into more suitable clothes before cleaning and shopping and BLAH. So much for a day off! I guess adulthood comes with a more sketchy definition of that term.

Lizard Al Fresco

This morning I'm sitting at my desk, minding my own business. I noticed Loki batting at something around my feet, so I thought my toes were tempting or something, and I wiggled them just in case. Perhaps, since it was a Bathrobe Morning (I know, I know I'm so lucky!), I thought the tie from my cushy, mid-calf-length terry variety was hanging down in a particularly tempting fashion. Finally, tiring of this, and suspecting I wasn't getting her full attention I looked down. Lo, did The Tiny sense her imminent spoiled party for she did snatch up in her jaws the very inspiration for her energetic swatting: one medium-sized lizard.

Exhibit A.

I believe it was a lizard and no salamander because it's exterior was more scaly than slimy, so I knew if I just got him out of her clutches, I could haul his bruised person to the back door, release him in the sun to warm himself after his foray in the coldest part of the house and he would be home free, if a little worse for wear. Of one thing I was certain: I had no idea what lizard blood looked like, but I didn't think it was covered under my carpet's stain guarantee.

Loki was not amused. My poor former-barn-kitten would have none of this "taking away her prey" business. Finally, I caught her off-guard when she'd dropped him for some more batting and torture. I'm ashamed to say that I snapped a picture.

Exhibit B.

Then I scooped him up in a serving bowl and took the first image before releasing him into the wild. Where no doubt the neighbors two outdoor cats made short work of him, but DUDE, I can only handle so much at one time, mmmkay? Two questions remain:

1)Will Loki ever stop sulking?
2) Exactly how did a sluggish but fresh lizard GET IN MY BASEMENT AND UNDER MY VERY FEET?

Hubster will be sorry he missed it while working all day. If any of you have the time and interest (or sufficient levels of boredom) feel free to identify the species for me. I doubt it, but I'll hand out bonus points if it's somehow poisonous and I/Loki dodged more than the carpet-stain bullet.

Too Tired To Title

I thought I'd stop being tired after I returned and got some sleep, but this weekend wore me out. Thursday's quick flight into Providence, RI was nice. Set up and such went well, and so did Friday's hours at convention. Afterward, we went to dinner at the Flying Rhino Cafe which, frankly, rocked our feeble worlds! If you should find yourself in Worcester, MA, check it out. They had a diverse menu of mostly Asian fusion dishes mixed with traditional Italian and European dishes. Bee had the "BOMBAY SAUTE -­ Crisp snow peas, sweet red peppers, pineapple, mango and peanuts in a spicy Garam-Masala sauce over Jasmine rice." I had the "PENNE Á la VODKA -­ Penne pasta in a tomato cream sauce with spinach, onions, Romano cheese, vodka and a touch of crushed red pepper." Best vodka sauce I've ever had, bar none! They had just the right amount of creme and not too much vodka to sour and the sauce and make it bitter. Truly amazing stuff, and pretty reasonable all told. The atmosphere was nice, if noisy, and the decor was lovely.

Saturday's hours went well, although we were both dragging by the end, mixing up terms and switching numerals in customer addresses. I did get a delightful mother and daughter who talked to me about the daughter's next move in her science studies. It turns out, she was very like me at her age - capable in science but unenthused by lab work and the endless details. I mentioned my move into philosophy and they lit up and asked all kinds of questions about colleges and different fields and such. I remembered that I was only a bit older than her when I talked to Jefe and began my journey into career exploration and figuring myself out. It was refreshing to be helpful like that. I hope she'll find what her strengths and gifts are - she seemed so full of promise.

After all that activity, we decided to take it easy that night. We called up a hotel closer to the airport and checked in there, where the attendant gave us two coupons each for free drinks at the bar. We sipped our drinks by the hot tub and retired for the night. Then at 1:40am, after having finally fallen asleep from too much talking not long before, THE FIRE ALARM WENT OFF. Some punk kid decided to make everyone's night by submitting to peer pressure and pulling one after having terrorized the fourth floor with the endless talking and running in the halls throughout the evening. The fire department had to arrive to reset it and we lost like a half an hour of sleep and probably gained some gray hairs from that rude awakening. I don't care if sound old here: "Damn kids!" Even worse, I had a HUGE blood-sugar attack earlier in the evening. I actually had lunch, but we must have waited too long for dinner because I found myself shaking, head-ache-riddled, so nauseous the mere thought of food sickened me, and just plain yucky. We ate at Bertucci's and despite getting a tomato and mozzarella salad, I managed to snarf a few mozzarella balls and a roll or two before I felt so full I thought I'd burst. I haven't had that kind of reaction in a long time and my survival skills were a mite rusty, but I started to feel better once the food kicked in. I just hope that doesn't start happening more often because conventions are no time to be picky about meals, or even meal times!

When we woke up the next morning, I seriously thought it would have been better to skip our flight. We slogged through, though, and hopped the plane to my home base together. I stayed with Bee until her connector to Indy left and then drove home. It was a beautiful day - sunny, 60s, positively uplifting. Despite myself, I felt better. I decided to call Mr. T on a whim, having agreed to hang out this week, I thought why not move it up if he's free?

I get an excited call back after he hears my message and our fun-filled evening was born. I met up with he and his friend S for his soccer game on the National Mall. Nothing like the reflecting pool and the Washington Monument as a backdrop for a little co-ed soccer footwork. They lost 1-0, which was sad, but we cheered up when we hit Georgetown for another Half-Price Bottle of Wine night at Clyde's. We laughed quite a bit, I drank a bit much for my small frame, and Mr. T drove us to his place for that night's West Wing episode. When we arrived, a blast from the pass stood waiting in the courtyard, one JG, who I hadn't seen in almost seven years. I think our reminiscing over the old days grated on S and T's nerves eventually (after all, they did have to rewind the Tivo four times to catch the dialogue), but it was really great to catch up, and I'm so glad we're back in touch. We've all planned an event for the middle of next week, and I can't wait to hang out, even if we don't have the fantastic weather of this occasion. Huzzah for friends, old and new!

Now, I'm paying for my sins of adrenaline abuse - I'm tired, despite sleeping in and working just half the day. I'm hoping I can take another half-day off sometime this week, but we'll see if I get everything done that I need to. I have this weekend off from conventions, and PRAISE THE MAKER FOR THAT ONE. Now it's time for laundry, dinner, and OOPS, 24 just started, so I'm out. I'll try to post pics tomorrow, that is if any turned out. Oh, and if I'm not to tired.