I am in DC.

Highlights thus far:

1. The night before, HDHusband tells me he has a toothache and might not make the trip to DC after all. Wakes up in the morning and all is well, thanks to antibiotics and pain meds.

2. Flight is relatively uneventful, except for someone in the row ahead of us who is letting out the spicy burps. GOD AWFUL. But, I got to read my Rolling Stone magazine and listen to my MP3 player - all big things, when you aren't traveling with a toddler in tow.

3. Arrive at hotel, make reservations and head out to Restaurant Nora's. Had a fantastic dinner (all organic, really good stuff) and cabbed it back to hotel.

4. Decide to have nightcap at the hotel bar with HDH. Creepy Dude sidles up, drunk, buys us another round and gives me a toast "in Swedish". What the fuck did he say? Something about "flowers, roses and fucking", he says. Tells me his name is "Derek, you know, like Bo". And then asked if I wanted to hear the toast in Finnish. Nope, no thanks.

5. Come back up to the room, and it's a baaaaaaaaaaaaad thing. I'm wasted, apparently. Of course, my husband's version of the story is much better. And maybe when I'm nice, I'll let him tell it on said blog. To summarize (in his words): "you were driving the porcelain bus". Yuck. HATE THAT. I also came up with a few 'rules' that shall only be repeated in private to friends. GOOD LORD. Never agin. Ever.

6. This morning, hungover. Bad.

Ordered in, got ready, met up with FYRCHK. YAAAAAAY!!! Mama!!

7. Went into Virginia, had lunch with IFyrchk, HDH and IrishFyrGirl, saw Fyr's cute apartment, met her dad and ADORALBE dog, and saw the battlefield .... which made my husband extremely giddy. Oh, and my husband also recounted to Fyrchk and IrishFyrGirl the debauchery that was last night, and Fyrchk laughed so hard she cried.

8. Came back to hotel with Frychk, and we will be going to dinner shortly with a group o' folks. I feel much less like death and ready to have a good time again.

I hate hangovers.

Chocolate martini's are the devil.

Labels: chocolate martini's are the devill, DC, fyrchk, vacation

HDHusband and I went to a friend's 60th birthday party on Saturday night. I have realized if I don't take my own picture, there will never be documented proof of how I looked from 2001 on. Therefore, a photo of me taken by me before we left for said party:





Also at the party were most of my neighbor's, and for those of you just catching up, they are usually quite bitchy and raggy. I've not seen much of them lately, primarily because I've changed my phone number and only exit my garage under the cover of darkness.

After a few glasses of wine, the following conversations occurred:

FemiNazi: Hey, I think I offended you the last time when I said I couldn't believe you had a nose ring.
Me: You did. You offend me most time you say anything, actually.

At one point, the BirdKiller (she slaughtered a bunch of birds in her back yard last spring because they weren't 'the right kind' in her feeder, I'm too lazy to link) told me she and FemiNazi had gone out for drinks at a local bar and "Gosh, we should have invited you!". They do this every time. Honestly, I'd rather have a full on root canal and listen to my husband's ridiculous Pakistani chant music than sign up for drinks with two bitchy women. No thanks.

A highlight at the party, of course, was the surprise stripper the birthday's gal's daughter had ordered. If you ever want to watch a room full of men clear in less than five seconds flat, have a man walk in the room willing to get naked for the ladies. Works like a charm.

Regarding my new work-out routine (and it doesn't involve this stipper either):

I've met with The Trainer twice. I look forward to going, because he's really a cool guy, he knows what he's doing, and the hour just flies by. On the downside, of course, I walk out with my legs shaking and a funny feeling that I won't be able to sit to pee for a while after. All of this is good - painful, but good.

Yesterday, I found myself doing lunges around the track at the gym with strength shoes on. Care to know what strength shoes are? Well, let me inform you:

Of course, mine looked a little bit different than those bad boys. Mine strapped on to the shoes I already had on. I did lunges, kicked ass, took some names later, and then passed out. You know, cause that's how I do things.

The Trainer also told me a bit about a movie he was in once with this actor, and how he used black shoe polish on his head to cover up the places he was going bald.

And last but not least:

I had a kick ass bumper sticker in the mail from Fyrchk yesterday. It read: If you are going to ride my ass, at least pull my hair. It's my new motto.

Labels: fyrchk, neighbors, party, trainer, updates

"The loneliest woman in the world is a woman without a close woman friend." ...

but how lucky I am not to be lonely!



My trip to visit the beautiful and funny Fyrchk in DC this weekend has been postponed. Fyrchk lost her uncle today to cancer, and as we all know, cancer is a dirty bitch. She will be spending the weekend instead with family and attending the funeral of a wonderful man.

My Love Thursday today is in honor of my wunnerful friend, Fyrchk (and if you want to see a bit of Fyrchk, that's her hot sex foot in the middle).

Mama, I want to reach through the wires and hug you something silly! I feel so very bad for you. Your uncle was an incredible man and put up an valiant fight against an unforgiving disease.

I am so lucky to have collided with you in the most unusual way and to have been lucky enough to have forged down this road of Friendship with you. You make my heart happy and crack up my soul! I'm looking forward to many more years of this friendship we share (skipping over maybe Wee Jimmy and the "I'm So Pretty" crap).

Lots of love to you, Mama!!

~ HDW

"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares. - Henri Nouwen"

Labels: friendship, fyrchk, love thursday