Sunday, October 10, 2010

Four Star Weekend

Despite the fact that I got my third-ever migraine headache, I squirted Light mayonnaise in my eye, and a spider ran down the front of my shirt, this was a stellar weekend.

And at least it was light mayonnaise. Can I get a witness?

We kicked Friday morning out' the park and I can't tell you how right now, because that would ruin the fun. But trust me, we rocked the 10AM-11AM hour. And we have proof.

Nevertheless, the run-of-the-mill stress of the day had me edgy as a rooster and ever ready to sink into the comfort of my couch, with a Heart friend on the other end. She brought me a mum. We talked and hooted and hollered and I knew that I was wrecked. I was the most unattractive version of myself and I just couldn't be bothered to care. I was tired and happy.

Until the headache, and even then, I was sick and happy.

Until I went to bed and got the chills and the shakes and Cory had to get the blue puke bowl out just in case and I thought I had an aneurysm. I was a little scared and in too much pain to flutter my eyelid, but even then, I was happy.

The pharmaceuticals kicked in and I finally fell asleep.

For about an hour.

It turns out Silas was throwing another solo toddler rave next-door and I wasn't invited, although I might as well have been. It kicked off at 3:30 and ended just before dawn.

I woke on Saturday, fit as a fiddle, raring to go. I was so super excited for my Pie Class! A saintly lady invited a bunch of us over to teach us the ins-and-outs of pie.

I promise you this - you throw some kind of a pie party? I'm there.

I volunteered to roll the dough out once and ruined it up with my overzealous rolling.

For lunch we dined on Almond Joy pie, Delicious Apple Pie, Peach tartlet and Pecan Pie.

Belly full of pie, I slow-poked it back home just in time for Date Day.

We had a sitter, beginning at 3:00. That never happens.

I power napped on the way back to the city, then we did what any respectable people would do - we hit up a matinee with stealthy bottles of pop in my bag.

A couple of things about The Town:

1. Ben Affleck is dreamier than I remember.
2. Baahston is intriguing.
3. The movie was gripping, gritty, car-chasey and sad. But very good.

Which brings me to number four:

4. Do you think J. Lo watches Ben Affleck movies? It seems to me like she probably shouldn't, but then again, she's an entertainer and what if The Town is nominated for awards or something? Can she, in good conscience, not watch it? But how could she? Wouldn't that be weird? Mightn't Marc Anthony find that uncomfortable?

I'm so glad I never dated Ben Affleck.

After the movie, we Thaied it up. Yeah, Boyee.

I've come to an important conclusion about eating out. I prefer to spend my limited eating-out dollars on Mexican or Asian food. Or Olive Garden. And mostly Mazatlan. Yes, maybe the occasional pizza or Jimmy Johns and of course I can never resist Taco Bell, but that's Mexican, right? Anyway, this is my new rule. Because I can't really cook authentic Mexican or Asian food. It's never the same. Everything else? I can probably cook up a passable replica.

I had some kind of vegetarian something-or-other with a garlic ginger sauce. I wanted to lick the plate.

We were home in time to tuck in the babies and watch 48 Hours Mystery.

Today we nursed snotty noses in the morning then ate greasy burgers for lunch, since everyone knows that's the best remedy for a cold.

We ran around a secluded park for a while because today was The Day. That one day in Fall when the Magic happens.

The air was warm and smelled like dead leaves. That's not a combination you'll woller around in any old day.

The light poured liquid gold and my record skipped on "I love my life."

Ruby Safety-Danced her way though the leaf-strewn path.

Calvin worked his center of gravity.

Silas lounged in the stroller, then wailed for a while, then found a pile of dirt and powdered himself in it like an old lady with a pink puff.

We had dinner with Cory's family.

The girls stayed behind to watch Babies.

I made homemade spinach artichoke dip for the movie and grated the knuckle on my right index finger, but I also got to wring out a box of thawed spinach.

Have you ever noticed that spinach wringing results in the softest, creamiest hands?

There's some kind of chemical sorcery happening up in that spinach. Every time I give it a squeeze, I notice that my hands are so...smooth. So...creamy.

And really, isn't that what we're all after? Creamy hands?

**Many thanks to my Paparazzo husband for his smart, snappy documentation of our weekend.