powered by SignMyGuestbook.com
powered by SignMyGuestbook.com
Recent News... Just for Pope Gregory... |
2002-02-19 - 2:57 p.m. It won't involve sex or a passport Valentine's Day was spent relaxing together. We randomly went to that lovely Japanese steakhouse Laura introduced me to on Halloween. I think these things were invented to sell more sushi. Probably 10% of America eats sushi, thus they need to combine steakhouses with places that serve bait. Whatever the excuse, I like them. V-Day. You know, I hate what it's become. There's all this pressure to make it the 'most romantic day of the year.' Moreover, it involves excessively much pink. Rob hates getting me V-day stuff because it's a performing seal sort of thing. Feb 14 = get girl pink tacky stuff. I totally get his point. Nevertheless, I get a love letter anyway which I cherish. Purrrr. Personally, I recommend you date your mate. Sure, you live with them, but take them away from the distractions of home and hobbies and friends and just spend time with them. It's a great thing. We took the Friday before University to spend together and it was blissful. We randomly took a half-day off to hit a museum and have tapas. Another time, it was Italian art and Chinese food. Gosh, I love my husband. V-Day ended with a viewing of Notorious snuggled on the couch. Alfred Hitchcock is fairly anti-V-Day, but it was something of a love story. Friday was my much cherished flex day - spent reading Sharon Shinn's "Heart of Gold," a book with the underlying theme of racial and social differences, so just to finish mucking with my head, I got out the tape of Babylon 5's "Comes the Inquisitor" episode, where two of the main character's are forced to examine who they are. Did I tell you about the new cable modem with wireless hub? Did I tell you how much I love it? I can take the laptop all over the house and surf at blinding speed and � bug Gen over IM. So, don't'cha want to leave early? Professional bad influence that I am, Gen pounds on my door about 3 pm and gives me the keys to her truck in exchange for alcohol. Rob watches us leave, Indigo Girls CDs in hand, with some trepidation. Don't worry, honey. I'm sure whatever we do it won't involve either sex or a passport. We discovered Savage Mill has a little chocolate stand that sells chocolates shaped like crabs. A bag of truffles is acquired and, look! An entire shop of stuffed animals. Gen acquired new beanies and I found Beth an owl! A soft, Gund, classic Pooh, Owl! She'd wanted to buy the one at Pooh Corner when we went hiking through Ashdown Forest/The Hundred Acre Woods, but the one there was too big. This was just the right six - maybe 6" tall. We did not buy Gen the 12" tall squirrel (too bristly) and I did not buy Padraiga the 18" tall flamingo. Back away, be good� On a sugar high from the chocolate, our random path takes us towards Columbia. We swing by Oakland - Gen's wedding site - and, since we're accidentally near her place, we call Meng to see if we can play with the new puppy. But, alas, Meng is out shopping and not at home. It's time to pick up the boys anyway. So call Alan and Rob and tell them we're hungry and we're listening to angry estrogen rock and we're on our way to get them� Gen chose a more civilized conversation and we rounded everyone up for a quick dinner before heading to Kevin's for Beth's Welcome home! gathering. Beth loved Owl. Soft, furry, Owl. Gen went with the 'Beth-is-being-silly-cause-she's-jet-lagged,' but I don't buy it. I saw Beth love my splendid little Pooh Bear, R.K., during the U.K. trip, and Owl is her totem animal and this one is all her own. Yay! Our Beth didn't want to move back, but we are happy she is home. We spent a couple hours with a poor sick Kevin and Jake being good hosts despite their illness. (Love you Jake - go to bed.) A long 3 day weekend to putter and relax. Exhausted Roland finally got to sleep as much as he needed. I meant to be productive on Saturday, but there was this snuggly man with a warm lap and a comfy sofa and a sunbeam and � well, there's all sorts of quotes Roland forbids me to post for public consumption. Sunday, though, I cleaned up the office. Did the bills, the MoL paperwork from the last two weeks, filed everything, even did the taxes Refund baby yay!. Roland pounded away in the shop. I thought he was making a gorget, but he kept wandering out with new rapier hilts. I tried to explain to his Mom No, really, he's bending hot metal right now - he can't come to the phone. He'll call you back� with limited success. Sunday night was pleasantly random. Things seem to turn out stranger when they let me drive. Alan, Gen, Roland and I head out for dinner - we meant to go to Hard Times, but changed our mind and went to Fridays - which had too long a wait and so did Lone Star - so we head toward Hard Times only to be distracted by Ruby Tuesdays. So who's your favorite Trading Spaces designer? Because there was a marathon on TLC all weekend and both Gen and I watched several of the episodes so that was much of the dinner conversation. We all vote down Doug as too obnoxious and Frank as 'welcome at my party, but not touching my house.' I like Vern best I think. Laurie gets a bit pastel occasionally and Hildy a bit modern and Genevieve - well just goes a bit too far. We decide to be virtuous and skip dessert, at Ruby Tuesday's but random impulse leads me to turn the wrong way on 29 and head to Clyde's. I'd never been to Clydes before - of course not cause it's in Columbia and it's hidden and you have to have the path mapped by a native guide. Okay, drop kick me Jesus - what was that fiber art thing back near the bathrooms? Cause it's either a baseball player and Jesus, or some guy has a football stuck on his head. We three dive into the chocolate mousse while Alan (whom I hate cause he has no sweet tooth whatsoever) orders a Blue Moon Martin. Gen: Let me guess. You're disturbed Alan's drinking something blue. Me: No, only slightly. Now, if he ordered a vodka martin, I'd ask who'd kidnapped Alan. Meng and Brian are home. They're too tired to meet us for dessert but they are hospitable (crazy) enough to let their friends randomly drop by with very little warning and play with the puppy, puppy, puppy. Maddie the golden retriever pup is soft, like a really plush Gund, and very playful and just wonderful. Guess what Meng did part of the weekend? Watched Trading Spaces. Giggle. You know, Meng will someday get her own interior design business going and it'll be just fabulous. Speaking as monochromatic girl who painted her house cream inside, I think designers are there to make you try stuff you wouldn't otherwise have the guts to attempt. Probably inspired by all the rest and Trading Space (and the fact I don't want to have Meng over until I finish the window treatments - I'm KIDDING!) I spent the Monday holiday finally finishing the curtains for the front rooms. I've had the material for ages. In fact, the curtain project last June is what precipitated the 'buy sewing room furniture and toys cause I'll never finish these curtains crawling around on the floor with 30 yd rolls of fabric.' But then I was lost in the joy of the sewing toys. But, I'm determined curtains before any more playtime. Of course the bastards discontinued the pinch-pleated sheers I'm using and I'm one panel short. So I have to buy the matching patio door sheer, take it apart, pinch pleat it to match and put it back together. Me: I hate pleating. Rags on the other end of the phone: Bleeding? Everyone hates bleeding. Guess what? Jim randomly went by the comic shop yesterday and *bing* my newest issue of Spidey was waiting in my work mailbox this morning. In a fit of virtue I have not opened it yet. Must resist. I have enough guilt from the sushi glut and a long lunch with Teresa. (Grad school study partner who now works upstairs. She's also - though we didn't figure this out for years after we knew each other - Oswulf's sister.) [Song currently playing in my head: "It's a small world after all�"] Or I could read it and post to taunt Rhi� No, I fear the Snowcat. � � � 
|