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?