I am flattered when people want to introduce me to their son/nephew/brother/friend. It means they think I would be ideal for their loved one. And it's a nice little ego boost because it tells me, "Hey, I still got the stuff!" Silly, I know, but since I'm not big on flirting, any other indications that I could possibly still be attractive to the opposite sex is such a nice surprise. (I won't delve into my insecurity issues - I'm human and they're there.)
Of course, these people know that I'm with The Man. Which may also contribute to the "appeal." (You know, like when a guy you never thought of as boyfriend material gets a girlfriend and then you think, hey, he might be a great boyfriend. Of course I'VE never had that thought. I'm just saying.)
What's my point? A colleague wanted to introduce me to her brother-in-law. She brought this up even though she saw The Man's pictures in my office*. I replied that I was flattered but I'm very, very happy in my relationship. Observing my hula dancer pictures, she said, "You like Hawaii, right? Well, my brother-in-law has two houses in Hawaii. Just something to think about." What the ...?! That's playing dirty!**
No, no, no, I didn't even entertain the idea. I am madly in love (I have a big bruise on my thigh to prove it! Read previous entry.) But DANG. When did bribery become part of the matchmaking process? Son of a biscuit. I have to confess, I haven't given the guy a second thought but I do often daydream about those houses.
Anyhow, don't be annoyed when someone wants to fix you up. I know some folks think it's horrible and a pity gesture. It's not, it's a compliment. It means that they think you're swell and they want you to meet someone they think is equally swell. [Of course, there are those times when this theory backfires. It's when you meet the person that is supposedly "perfect" for you and by the end of the date, you want to beat them with their own arm - I know, I have stories.]
*I have a picture frame that doubles as a flip album so I can contain all my pictures of us. I didn't want to be one of those girlfriends that have a freakin' shrine of their man.
**She was actually genuinely happy that I'm in a good relationship. I think that since she married when she was in her 40s she figured she would offer options to me. Not that that would make The Man more understanding of this scenario or make his heart warm and fuzzy.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Monday, September 26, 2005
Take THIS, Moh Fohs!!
I bruise easily for a tan gal. Although I'm well aware of this, I went paintballing this weekend. What can I say? Love is blind, forgetful, and sometimes just a dumb a$$.
I didn't do a lot of damage out in the field. I don't even know if I hit anyone. I had a rental so my gun (I mean "marker." Can't call it a gun) was not only inaccurate but its impact could be compared to a sissygirl slap. I didn't have much to work with but dammit, I gave it my all. I sprinted up hills. I slid down hills to hide behind barrels & cover my teammates. I was shot in the mouth (thanks be for the helmet) and the thigh (big purple bruise.) I unloaded my paintball pellets like someone talked about my mama.
I swear, this excursion made my Monday more bearable. Everyone should be able to unleash their aggression in some healthy fashion. And hell yah, I'm buying my own paintball marker!
Now that I've let some time pass, the urgency that was once there to buy my marker has passed. But I'm determined to kick a$$ next time so there will be a purchase in the future.
I didn't do a lot of damage out in the field. I don't even know if I hit anyone. I had a rental so my gun (I mean "marker." Can't call it a gun) was not only inaccurate but its impact could be compared to a sissygirl slap. I didn't have much to work with but dammit, I gave it my all. I sprinted up hills. I slid down hills to hide behind barrels & cover my teammates. I was shot in the mouth (thanks be for the helmet) and the thigh (big purple bruise.) I unloaded my paintball pellets like someone talked about my mama.
I swear, this excursion made my Monday more bearable. Everyone should be able to unleash their aggression in some healthy fashion. And hell yah, I'm buying my own paintball marker!
Now that I've let some time pass, the urgency that was once there to buy my marker has passed. But I'm determined to kick a$$ next time so there will be a purchase in the future.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Happy Birthday, Demondoll!!
My sister is 40 years old today!!! She is one of THE MOST IMPORTANT people in my world. For the first 11 years of my life, she was my second mom. Of the people who have come in and out of my life, Sister has one of the biggest hearts I've ever known. She is a beautiful person who knew how to be a FANTASTIC mom before she ever had a child of her own. She also has a naughty sense of humor ;)
One of my favorite "sister" stories:
My sister lived in LA and would come to visit during the summer and the holidays. When she would visit, she would sleep in my room. On this particular visit, I was probably 15 years old. I had dozed off around 10pm but she woke me up a half hour later by nudging my shoulder. "Psst, hey. I think you're hungry." I turned, barely opening my eyes, "Hummrrrgh?" Sister shook me a little again, "I said, I think you're hungry. I think you want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich." Still groggy, I replied, "Huh?" Sister persisted and said, "I think you want a PB&J. Toasted." I didn't question her and just got up. As I left my room, my sister added, "Oh! And you also want a glass of milk." I went downstairs, still half asleep, and toasted two pieces of bread. Dad usually stayed up late to watch TV so he was already downstairs when I prepared "my" sandwich. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Uhh, making a sandwich." Looking perplexed, he asked, "You're hungry?" I replied, "Well, sort of." In my drowsy state, I made the sandwich, poured a glass of milk and went back upstairs. My sister was waiting patiently, reading her book when I came back to my room. She took the snack from me and I went back under my blankets. (She at least said thanks.) I fell back asleep, not really knowing that I got conned.
Now that's a big sister for you.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SISTER! I love you.
One of my favorite "sister" stories:
My sister lived in LA and would come to visit during the summer and the holidays. When she would visit, she would sleep in my room. On this particular visit, I was probably 15 years old. I had dozed off around 10pm but she woke me up a half hour later by nudging my shoulder. "Psst, hey. I think you're hungry." I turned, barely opening my eyes, "Hummrrrgh?" Sister shook me a little again, "I said, I think you're hungry. I think you want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich." Still groggy, I replied, "Huh?" Sister persisted and said, "I think you want a PB&J. Toasted." I didn't question her and just got up. As I left my room, my sister added, "Oh! And you also want a glass of milk." I went downstairs, still half asleep, and toasted two pieces of bread. Dad usually stayed up late to watch TV so he was already downstairs when I prepared "my" sandwich. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Uhh, making a sandwich." Looking perplexed, he asked, "You're hungry?" I replied, "Well, sort of." In my drowsy state, I made the sandwich, poured a glass of milk and went back upstairs. My sister was waiting patiently, reading her book when I came back to my room. She took the snack from me and I went back under my blankets. (She at least said thanks.) I fell back asleep, not really knowing that I got conned.
Now that's a big sister for you.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SISTER! I love you.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
News Announcement
Washington D.C. - The government today announced that it is changing its emblem from an Eagle to a CONDOM because it more accurately reflects the government's political stance. A condom allows for inflation, halts production, destroys the next generation, protects an abundance of pricks, and gives you a sense of security while you're actually being screwed.
-- Associated Press
-- Associated Press
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Dollah Dollah Bill Y'all
I like the dollar store. I don't love it the way I love Target but the dollar store has great finds like gift bags, certain office supplies, kids stuff and disposable household ware. There was a dollar store by my house that I sometimes shopped because it was nice and respectable. I call it "nice and respectable" because, while it did smell funny, the folks were usually normal and the place was fairly clean.
I forgot it closed when I had told The Man, at a department store, that $4 was too much for a gift bag and we could get one at the dollar store. Well, it's now right before a little girl's bday party so we have to find one. Remembering there was a dollar store on Mission Blvd., we scramble to find it. [Side note: A wise person once told me that roads with "Mission" in the name are certain to be questionable or dangerous. Seriously, think about it.] On our right, we see a 99 cents store next to Bobby's Smoke House. OK, let's give it a whirl.
We pull into the back parking lot and walk up a ramp (that's right, not steps but a ramp.) Hmm. Second clue - The doors are open and on the left, handwritten in paint, is "ENTANCE." No, I didn't make a typing error. Third clue - The place is disheveled, smells funky and, in an instant, I decide it's the ghetto-est Dollar Store I've ever seen. The carpet is dark gray with stains and gum everywhere. Items are in random places like someone threw stuff in the air and hoped it went into the baskets. Now, growing up in the East Bay, I know ghetto when I see it. And this is ghetto.
My fourth clue although you better believe I was done after the second clue - There is a handwritten note in Sharpie, photocopied, and posted all along the store. It reads, "Have some respect and class. Do not open the packaged merchandise or throw things around. Thank you, Fred." Aww, you got to tell people to show some class? Fred, I'd say this is a battle you've already lost.
A little bit scared but not deterred from our quest, I march to the back and find a big gift bag. I show The Man and he says it's fine. I know from our exchanged looks he wants to get the hell-up-outa-there, too. We go to the cash register and wait our turn. My fifth and final clue? The cashier has a lit cigarette resting on the register with the tip making a nice smokey trail to the ceiling. I mean, there IS an ashtray a few feet away on the coffee table by the couch and black & white TV. But hey, it was probably too far away for the guy. OK, so there are quite a few clues of just how ghetto this place is.
We are behind an older woman and her little granddaughter. I want to tell the little girl, "Run baby, run!" as I eye the cashier and the other man near the entrance. (He was also quite suspicious, stringy haired and scratching himself. But I wasn't certain of him so he wasn't officially a clue.) The Man and I are next. We give him a $1.09 for our bag and all but sprint out of the store and back down the ramp.
I love obscure shops as much as the next person. I adore the little stores in Chinatown, with all their mysterious merchandise and questionable pricing techniques. But dammit, this dollar store was NOT one of those cool shops. It was ghetto. G.H.E.T.T.O. Ghetto. Was it worth the $3 savings? No. Even with The Man present to protect me? HEYYYYYYLLLL NO. Mmm-mm. My happy a$$ will wait for a department store to have a sale or just pay full price. It's funny how I take the nice feeling of SAFETY for granted at a store and don't realize how nice it is until it's gone.
I forgot it closed when I had told The Man, at a department store, that $4 was too much for a gift bag and we could get one at the dollar store. Well, it's now right before a little girl's bday party so we have to find one. Remembering there was a dollar store on Mission Blvd., we scramble to find it. [Side note: A wise person once told me that roads with "Mission" in the name are certain to be questionable or dangerous. Seriously, think about it.] On our right, we see a 99 cents store next to Bobby's Smoke House. OK, let's give it a whirl.
We pull into the back parking lot and walk up a ramp (that's right, not steps but a ramp.) Hmm. Second clue - The doors are open and on the left, handwritten in paint, is "ENTANCE." No, I didn't make a typing error. Third clue - The place is disheveled, smells funky and, in an instant, I decide it's the ghetto-est Dollar Store I've ever seen. The carpet is dark gray with stains and gum everywhere. Items are in random places like someone threw stuff in the air and hoped it went into the baskets. Now, growing up in the East Bay, I know ghetto when I see it. And this is ghetto.
My fourth clue although you better believe I was done after the second clue - There is a handwritten note in Sharpie, photocopied, and posted all along the store. It reads, "Have some respect and class. Do not open the packaged merchandise or throw things around. Thank you, Fred." Aww, you got to tell people to show some class? Fred, I'd say this is a battle you've already lost.
A little bit scared but not deterred from our quest, I march to the back and find a big gift bag. I show The Man and he says it's fine. I know from our exchanged looks he wants to get the hell-up-outa-there, too. We go to the cash register and wait our turn. My fifth and final clue? The cashier has a lit cigarette resting on the register with the tip making a nice smokey trail to the ceiling. I mean, there IS an ashtray a few feet away on the coffee table by the couch and black & white TV. But hey, it was probably too far away for the guy. OK, so there are quite a few clues of just how ghetto this place is.
We are behind an older woman and her little granddaughter. I want to tell the little girl, "Run baby, run!" as I eye the cashier and the other man near the entrance. (He was also quite suspicious, stringy haired and scratching himself. But I wasn't certain of him so he wasn't officially a clue.) The Man and I are next. We give him a $1.09 for our bag and all but sprint out of the store and back down the ramp.
I love obscure shops as much as the next person. I adore the little stores in Chinatown, with all their mysterious merchandise and questionable pricing techniques. But dammit, this dollar store was NOT one of those cool shops. It was ghetto. G.H.E.T.T.O. Ghetto. Was it worth the $3 savings? No. Even with The Man present to protect me? HEYYYYYYLLLL NO. Mmm-mm. My happy a$$ will wait for a department store to have a sale or just pay full price. It's funny how I take the nice feeling of SAFETY for granted at a store and don't realize how nice it is until it's gone.
Friday, September 16, 2005
Blessed be ... TGIF!
It's been a semi-rough week. I have a tendency to over analyze myself (better me than you, right??) so I'm trying to figure out why it's been an off week. Is it because I'm getting busy at work so I'm stressing out? OR is it because it's my pre-Power Week? This is what I lovingly call my monthly woman visit. In The Man's words, it's when I "cause havoc, strife and leave destruction in [my] wake." (The Man's got a sense of humor.) Maybe it's a nice combination of the two. In any case, THANK GOODNESS IT'S FRIDAY!
This is my most favorite day of the week, even though it's not a completely work-free day. There's something about knowing I have an evening where I can stay up late, sleep in the next morning and then spend Saturday any way I want. Friday, I'm in Love!!
This is my most favorite day of the week, even though it's not a completely work-free day. There's something about knowing I have an evening where I can stay up late, sleep in the next morning and then spend Saturday any way I want. Friday, I'm in Love!!
Thursday, September 15, 2005
The Man's keeping me up.
When I left work, my hair was probably 1/2 a foot big - it was one of those days. I went through most of the work day OK and then it ended with a guy trying to blame me for his lack of progress aka his procrastination. That's always fun.
So I go home and The Man decides to come over. There's no special occasion, he's just visiting me. He has no idea that I'm in a little funk (which is probably good because he may have flipped a U and gone home.) He brought with him (1) a windshield shade because I've been wanting one like his but keep forgetting to buy one (2) a Green Day CD he burned because I wanted to hear GD circa 1994, and (3) a novel, The Known World, which he chose b/c he saw it was featured on Oprah's Book Club so it must be good. No reason for these little gifts, they were "just because."
I wrote it before and I'll write it again. It's the little things that count. My hair is calm, no Asian afro in sight. Now you get why I was so excited to get him a paintball gun. The Man DESERVES it. And anything else that makes his heart warm and fuzzy :)
So I go home and The Man decides to come over. There's no special occasion, he's just visiting me. He has no idea that I'm in a little funk (which is probably good because he may have flipped a U and gone home.) He brought with him (1) a windshield shade because I've been wanting one like his but keep forgetting to buy one (2) a Green Day CD he burned because I wanted to hear GD circa 1994, and (3) a novel, The Known World, which he chose b/c he saw it was featured on Oprah's Book Club so it must be good. No reason for these little gifts, they were "just because."
I wrote it before and I'll write it again. It's the little things that count. My hair is calm, no Asian afro in sight. Now you get why I was so excited to get him a paintball gun. The Man DESERVES it. And anything else that makes his heart warm and fuzzy :)
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Knowing when it's over.
I saw this beautiful shawl and was convinced that I could make it. This sneaky yarn store suckered me with all its cuteness and charm and examples of how you can use their expensive yarn to make "simple" projects. Then I had this brilliant idea. I could make my mom this shawl for Mother's Day. So I bought two balls* of this kid mohair yarn at nearly $25 a pop. Dang.
The yarn label suggests to use size 5 needles but to make this delicate shawl, the Yarn Place said to use size 15 needles. And if you were wondering, yes, Mother's Day has come and gone (how sick would it be if I was already thinking about next year's M-Day? Please!) and it's not even half way done. I have been working on this damn shawl for four months - I took a break in July because (a) it was too hot and (b) I couldn't muster the patience. It was suppose to be simple knitting!
Just recently, I set my mind to finish it. I even brought it to Tel's house so I can finish this freakin' thing because I don't want to start another project without finishing my first one. Well, I had to undo some parts AGAIN and I just realized, I HATE this shawl. I hate doing it and it's just not giving me that warm fuzzy feeling. And it sure as hell isn't giving me instant gratification. So I unraveled the whole thing. And it felt gooooood.
I don't think of myself as a quitter. I'm pretty gung-ho about most stuff. But you know what? You just got to realize when it's over. And my pathetic patch of a shawl was OVER. There is now a spring in my step and little bit of giddyness knowing that I get to start a new project!
*Ball, skean, I'm still learning the terminology. I'm brand spankin' new to knitting so bear with me.
The yarn label suggests to use size 5 needles but to make this delicate shawl, the Yarn Place said to use size 15 needles. And if you were wondering, yes, Mother's Day has come and gone (how sick would it be if I was already thinking about next year's M-Day? Please!) and it's not even half way done. I have been working on this damn shawl for four months - I took a break in July because (a) it was too hot and (b) I couldn't muster the patience. It was suppose to be simple knitting!
Just recently, I set my mind to finish it. I even brought it to Tel's house so I can finish this freakin' thing because I don't want to start another project without finishing my first one. Well, I had to undo some parts AGAIN and I just realized, I HATE this shawl. I hate doing it and it's just not giving me that warm fuzzy feeling. And it sure as hell isn't giving me instant gratification. So I unraveled the whole thing. And it felt gooooood.
I don't think of myself as a quitter. I'm pretty gung-ho about most stuff. But you know what? You just got to realize when it's over. And my pathetic patch of a shawl was OVER. There is now a spring in my step and little bit of giddyness knowing that I get to start a new project!
*Ball, skean, I'm still learning the terminology. I'm brand spankin' new to knitting so bear with me.
Monday, September 12, 2005
Mondays can just SUCK IT.
Wow, I can hardly believe that came from me. But it did and it's true. And yes, I did the wrestling move that goes along with it. And you know what's terrible? It doesn't necessarily have to be a Monday. Last week, because of Labor Day, Tuesday was my Monday ( which inspired my "Pie Hole" entry.) And it stunk to high heaven. As did my Monday this week.
It doesn't matter how organized I am, how much I try to prepare (I'm talking months in advance,) it can all go up in smoke if people cancel or flake. Arghhhh!!!! I'm on the verge of pulling out chunks of hair!* I just keep telling myself how much I normally LOVE my job. But let me tell you, after events that I set up way in advance were cancelled, I was ready to stick a foot in someone's ....
My Monday oasis: Morning coffee with Dad. I adore my family, no matter how crazy we get. On Mondays, I try my best to see my Dad and have coffee before work. We chat for a 1/2 hour or so and then I go to work and he goes on his daily walk. When I was in school, I swear I was prepping for retirement. On my days off, Dad and I would go for a midmorning walk, have coffee, then walk home. We would eat lunch then go to our rooms for siesta. In the afternoon, we would putter around the house or garden, watch TV, eat dinner, watch TV, go to sleep. Now I live on my own and work 40+ hours so those days are gone.
These coffee dates aren't nearly as good as our walks but they're something. I love my Dad, my parents are so cute and little! Yes, I am a "Daddy's Girl" and that's that.
(Oh, and hallelujah for the caffeine. It probably prevented me from taking my black pump and "...shining it up real nice, turning it side ways, and sticking it straight up your candy @ss!"**)
*Sister says my hair actually gets bigger when I'm angry. With days like this, expect a two foot afro next month.
**I did society a favor when I stopped watching WWF back in 2000.
It doesn't matter how organized I am, how much I try to prepare (I'm talking months in advance,) it can all go up in smoke if people cancel or flake. Arghhhh!!!! I'm on the verge of pulling out chunks of hair!* I just keep telling myself how much I normally LOVE my job. But let me tell you, after events that I set up way in advance were cancelled, I was ready to stick a foot in someone's ....
My Monday oasis: Morning coffee with Dad. I adore my family, no matter how crazy we get. On Mondays, I try my best to see my Dad and have coffee before work. We chat for a 1/2 hour or so and then I go to work and he goes on his daily walk. When I was in school, I swear I was prepping for retirement. On my days off, Dad and I would go for a midmorning walk, have coffee, then walk home. We would eat lunch then go to our rooms for siesta. In the afternoon, we would putter around the house or garden, watch TV, eat dinner, watch TV, go to sleep. Now I live on my own and work 40+ hours so those days are gone.
These coffee dates aren't nearly as good as our walks but they're something. I love my Dad, my parents are so cute and little! Yes, I am a "Daddy's Girl" and that's that.
(Oh, and hallelujah for the caffeine. It probably prevented me from taking my black pump and "...shining it up real nice, turning it side ways, and sticking it straight up your candy @ss!"**)
*Sister says my hair actually gets bigger when I'm angry. With days like this, expect a two foot afro next month.
**I did society a favor when I stopped watching WWF back in 2000.
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Yes, it's the dude from "Saved by the Bell!"
TRUE STORY ... my brush with fame.
(Well, it was actually my cousin's. And he's a B-list celebrity. Whatever, just read.)
(Well, it was actually my cousin's. And he's a B-list celebrity. Whatever, just read.)
My adorable 21-year old-cousin attends University of Texas. She and her equally cute 21-year-old friends go to a club in Austin. Within a few minutes, they see there's some action going on in the VIP Lounge. Holy crap! It's Slater!!!
Apparantly, there were all these little hoochie mamas surrounding him (no surprise.) One of my cousin's friends decides to go and talk to him. After all, the dimples! The Slater-ness of him! And despite the surrounding skanks a.k.a up-for-grab-coochies, he was taken by my cousin's friend who is cute as a button.
She, I'll call her "Balla" since she's obviously an undercover Ballah Shot Callah, had him wrapped around her little 21-year-old finger (isn't it obvious I'm NOT 21 and I'm envious of her youth? Oh well.) In no time, Balla proceeded to make out with Slater. My cousin, realizing this was a prime photo opp., documented their evening, thus the pics.
Slater definitely wanted to take Balla home and get his. Well, while I understand the novelty of getting your groove on with a celebrity (A, B, or C .. is there a C?), Slater is a pig. He married the Doritos hottie, Ali Landry, but then she had it annulled. Slater had cheated on her before and after their wedding, one of the times during his bachelor party. Ewww. I seriously think Balla will need to get a prescription for Penicillin if they do the deed. Still, didn't we all do crazy things in our early 20's?
So, you ask, what happened at the end of the night? I did and my cousin said, "The only person Balla slept with that night was me." Balla got her fix, knew that the rest of the package was dirty and sent him home. Alone. You go, Balla!
** I find myself humming, "Well, I wake up in the morning, And the 'larm gives out a warning, And I don't think I'll ever make it on time." **
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Shut your pie hole
Ever have someone in your life that you could really do without but they are just THERE? For whatever reason ... a friend of your significant other, a coworker, an in-law ... you can't help it, they are and will always be a permanent fixture in your life.
Well, I have one. He doesn't know what's going in my life but he always adds his two cents. Sometimes it feels like 50 cents. Bugger thinks he knows what I'm all about and knows better than I do. He gives me unsolicited advice (I'm not dumb enough to ask for it) and thinks he knows everything about what's what. I've tried to tell Bugger that I don't care for his suggestions, thoughts or opinions but he just gives and gives. And gives. He tries to correct me in front of people and, more times than not, ends up moded. That's right, MODED :p
And because Bugger is a permanent fixture in my life, I have to make sure that feathers aren't too ruffled and no bridges are burned because my life would then become a freakin' nightmare.
If only Bugger would read this and truly understand me when I write, "For the love of Pete, I wish you would just shut your pie hole."
Well, I have one. He doesn't know what's going in my life but he always adds his two cents. Sometimes it feels like 50 cents. Bugger thinks he knows what I'm all about and knows better than I do. He gives me unsolicited advice (I'm not dumb enough to ask for it) and thinks he knows everything about what's what. I've tried to tell Bugger that I don't care for his suggestions, thoughts or opinions but he just gives and gives. And gives. He tries to correct me in front of people and, more times than not, ends up moded. That's right, MODED :p
And because Bugger is a permanent fixture in my life, I have to make sure that feathers aren't too ruffled and no bridges are burned because my life would then become a freakin' nightmare.
If only Bugger would read this and truly understand me when I write, "For the love of Pete, I wish you would just shut your pie hole."
I love Port Townsend, WA!!!
I took a much needed vacation last week. I went to work Monday and Tuesday and got the hell-up-outa-there Wednesday morning. The Man and I went to visit my sister in Port Townsend, WA.
We flew to Seattle on Wednesday and spent the day there. Sister and her hubby, being the awesome hosts that they are, knew that we wanted to run all around. We ate fish & chips and chowder (yummmmm), took a boat tour of the harbor (I'm not ashamed to be a tourist, read my earlier blog), walked around Pike Place Market (I have a whole new respect for fish throwers) and spent two hours at a hidden gem, the International Fountain near the Space Needle. [Side note: Sister sometimes has a gleam in her eye. Ignorant tourists approach a harmless dribbling fountain and end up DRENCHED.]
We then spent Thursday and Saturday in Sister's stomping grounds, Port Townsend. Sister describes it as "granola." They despise chains and are adamantly against having a Starbucks in their 'hood. Somehow, Hollywood Video muscled its way in and the town is up in arms. I kinda respect that. Oh, and the houses! They have absolutely beautiful homes all around. Many have wood decor with wood shingles, hardwood floors, wood trim ... just totally decked out in wood. The kicker? They have new homes for under $300,000. Of course, I fantasized about the possibility but do you think a small town is desparate for fundraisers? Unlikely:(
Anyhoo, they have adorable little cafes on every corner and gorgeous views of the water. The weather was awesome, we lounged on a beach on Thursday, and I even took a catnap. Apparently, this particular beach is quite popular with the Home School moms (yes, home schooling is quite popular, part of the reason Sister calls it, "granola." But guess what? My sister is part of the home school crew so she's not a hater.) And since there is just SO MUCH WATER, she knows a gal who has a home with beach front property. So on Saturday we went to a bonfire and ate hotdogs & s'mores as the sun set. Oh, I'm in love.
On Friday we took the ferry to Victoria. Fortunately, weather.com failed me again and it was actually a beautiful day. In flipflops and tanktops, we took a bus tour around Victoria then roamed the streets. It was sort of like Disneyland without the cheesyness. Those Canadians know how to keep a city clean! During the summer season, they have these hanging baskets of flowers on all their lamp posts that make the whole town look festive. It's the little things, you know?
This was my second visit with Sister. I loved Port Townsend the first time around and was a little bit scared that I romanticized the place and it wouldn't be as great as I remembered it. I'm happy to say that it's as cute, spunky and naturally pretty as I recalled. It was just the thing I needed to kick my duff back into gear.
We flew to Seattle on Wednesday and spent the day there. Sister and her hubby, being the awesome hosts that they are, knew that we wanted to run all around. We ate fish & chips and chowder (yummmmm), took a boat tour of the harbor (I'm not ashamed to be a tourist, read my earlier blog), walked around Pike Place Market (I have a whole new respect for fish throwers) and spent two hours at a hidden gem, the International Fountain near the Space Needle. [Side note: Sister sometimes has a gleam in her eye. Ignorant tourists approach a harmless dribbling fountain and end up DRENCHED.]
We then spent Thursday and Saturday in Sister's stomping grounds, Port Townsend. Sister describes it as "granola." They despise chains and are adamantly against having a Starbucks in their 'hood. Somehow, Hollywood Video muscled its way in and the town is up in arms. I kinda respect that. Oh, and the houses! They have absolutely beautiful homes all around. Many have wood decor with wood shingles, hardwood floors, wood trim ... just totally decked out in wood. The kicker? They have new homes for under $300,000. Of course, I fantasized about the possibility but do you think a small town is desparate for fundraisers? Unlikely:(
Anyhoo, they have adorable little cafes on every corner and gorgeous views of the water. The weather was awesome, we lounged on a beach on Thursday, and I even took a catnap. Apparently, this particular beach is quite popular with the Home School moms (yes, home schooling is quite popular, part of the reason Sister calls it, "granola." But guess what? My sister is part of the home school crew so she's not a hater.) And since there is just SO MUCH WATER, she knows a gal who has a home with beach front property. So on Saturday we went to a bonfire and ate hotdogs & s'mores as the sun set. Oh, I'm in love.
On Friday we took the ferry to Victoria. Fortunately, weather.com failed me again and it was actually a beautiful day. In flipflops and tanktops, we took a bus tour around Victoria then roamed the streets. It was sort of like Disneyland without the cheesyness. Those Canadians know how to keep a city clean! During the summer season, they have these hanging baskets of flowers on all their lamp posts that make the whole town look festive. It's the little things, you know?
This was my second visit with Sister. I loved Port Townsend the first time around and was a little bit scared that I romanticized the place and it wouldn't be as great as I remembered it. I'm happy to say that it's as cute, spunky and naturally pretty as I recalled. It was just the thing I needed to kick my duff back into gear.
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