Archive for July, 2007
July 31, 2007
it was the best sandwich ever
Today at lunchtime I did what I always do and made lunch for the boys. Henry was stalking me around the kitchen grumbling because I told him that he could play on the computer AFTER we went to the pool but not BEFORE which was apparently a HUGE injustice. So I put him to work finding place mats for lunch, mostly just to shut him up. He did that and then sat at the table grumbling about how long it was taking me to make the sandwiches and couldn’t we EAT already and get the whole pool thing OVER WITH so he could play on the computer?
Argh.
When the sandwiches were ready (which took like ninety five seconds, I swear to you) I asked Henry to call Charlie to the table. What I MEANT was would he walk to the bottom of the stairs and call his brother; what he HEARD me say was would he lean three inches to his left and holler “CHAAAAARLIE! LUNCH IS READY!”
Like I couldn’t have done that.
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July 30, 2007
hey now, you’re a rock star
With Chris and SJ at Navy Pier. Swiped from Kristin’s Flickr.
What’s one more torpedo to a sinking ship?
The great thing about staying in really swanky hotels is that you always have the option to charge things to your room, like a $4.00 cup of coffee or drinks for people you just met five minutes ago, or both, depending on the time of day and who you’re sitting with. Chris and I realized early on that there was no point in constantly whipping out cash or a credit card, because we could just sign for it and get on with our drinking networking. Of course, this meant signing MY name to everything because I had made the hotel reservations, and I think Chris took a little TOO much delight in this; she would sidle up to me with fresh drinks and say, “I just TOTALLY signed YOUR NAME to the check!”
She looks sweet, but she is hardcore. Seriously.
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July 29, 2007
I may be drunk but I’m not a spam blog
Hello and welcome to the new and hopefully temporary digs of Friday Playdate. Blogger has decided that the ORIGINAL Friday Playdate is a spam blog, and has locked me out. I can draft but not post, and where’s the fun in that?
I’m blaming Chris for this whole situation; she linked to me twice in one week and tripled my traffic, which apparently is a sign to Blogger that you are Up to No Blogging Good. Also because she is so wee and pretty and funny and I’m sad that tomorrow when I wake up she won’t be right here throwing gang signs.
And yes, I realize that it’s time to get a new hosting service. If you have any suggestions, let’s hear ‘em. In the mean time, we’ll be hanging here. And fuming.
I have all sorts of things to tell you about Chicago and about the conference and about our hotel room which had a window that opened out of the bathroom and into the actual ROOM which made it a little awkward to pee (and never mind doing any OTHER sort of bathroomy business, if you get my drift). I had a fantastic time even though I was stalked by paparazzi and clearly in need of an exorcism. Or an intervention.
But tonight I’m really really tired because Chris and SJ made me stay up waaaaay too late every night, but tomorrow I will tell you about our $1,600 bar bill and the Nancy Drew Dress and the man who was jogging in his tighty whiteys.
I love Chicago. Blogger, however is On My List. Now who wants some cheap Viagra?
July 23, 2007
look! a dead horse! I think I shall beat it!
This morning at breakfast, Charlie asked, “Mama, when are you going to Chicago?”
“Well,” I said, trying to make it simple for him because he’s five and I don’t really know how well he understands time, “today is Monday, and I’m going on Wednesday. I’m here today, and I’ll be here tomorrow, but when you wake up on Wednesday I will be on the plane.”
Charlie thought about this, and counted on his fingers, and said, “So you leave in TWO days?”
“Yes.”
Charlie looked at Henry, who was sitting directly across the very small table from him, and yelled, “HENRY! Mom is LEAVING in TWO DAYS!”
And they both raised their arms in the air and cheered.
And I joined right in.
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here, son, have some bacon
Charlie: Mama, why do the Weasley’s have pigs?
Me: Food, probably.
Charlie: Pigs, Mama. Why do the Weaseley’s have PIGS?
Me: For food. They have the pigs for food.
Charlie (shaking his head): NO, I do NOT think that’s it. WHY do they have PIGS?
Me: Oh! For magic?
Charlie (laughing): No! PIGS! Why do they have pigs?
Me: Ummmmm . . . pets?
Charlie (nodding happily): Yes, they have the pigs for pets. That’s it.
July 22, 2007
it’s hard to be a girl, or why vanity is a deadly sin
What I did this weekend: pedicure, manicure, hair cut and colored, picked up cleaning, retrieved skirt from tailors, picked up repaired vintage watch at jewelers, had dinner with in-laws, spent sleepless night hating hair color and Googling COLORING HAIR AFTER HIGH LIFT COLOR, took kids to the zoo, found a new colorist and said FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE FIX THIS, had hair colored (again), cleaned house, watched Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets with the kids, went to dinner with family, stopped to look at new better hair color every ten minutes all afternoon.
I’m exhausted.
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