Oh, this warms my heart. I hope he didn’t lose too many brain cells.
Hint: hit play on the media window.
Helicopter lands on summit of Everest. Excellent! Now I can completely forget about all that pre-trip training. Or the approach. Or that icky altitude-sickness thingy.
I swear, the first thing I’m gonna do after I buy my Hummer is pay for a ride to the top.
Since the weekend climbing trip was cancelled due to rain, the milliner and I were wondering what to do with ourselves. “Let’s go to Boston,” I suggested. So Saturday morning, she goes on the net to hunt down hotel rooms and points of interest for Boston. There were none. No hotel rooms and, really, nothing that really says, “hey, come to Boston, it’s fascinating.” (Okay, Boston Rob is from there, but what were the chances of seeing him?) Screw it, I says, let’s just go and see what happens.
Which we do. Drive to Boston. Get there, find ourselves in the theatre district. We eat in a bar ‘n grill where the food reminded me of the fare you get at the Peel Pub (i.e. don’t worry if you can’t finish what’s on your plate, they’ll simply give it to the next customer), and start looking for hotel rooms. There is absolutely no room at the inns, what with it being graduation weekend. Oops. What rooms there were started at around $300US/night. Yikes. We finally got a place outside the city, drive there and crash.
The next morning, drive back into the city and realise, well gosh, that’s about it, isn’t it? We shell out the cash to take a trolley tour (I admit it, it was fun), we find out a bit more about the city, and tell ourselves that we now know where we want to visit more in depth.
AT the end of the tour, we have a snack at a bistro, relax, and start walking back to the car, visiting a bit more on our own. As we’re walking, it dawns on us that we really don’t care to be here anymore, so we simply get back in the car and head home.
All was not lost, since I made some really good olive bread yesterday, and the milliner made some fine falafel with goat cheese. Yummers.
We were invited to a Greek easter celebration yesterday. When I first got the invite, my initial reaction was, “will there be lamb on a spit?” Oh yeah, and it was incredible. It went straight to my hips.
Go to eat my sandwich, there’s mold on the bread. Toss out the sammich.
Peel my orange, half is rotten. The other half is dry.
Crunch into my apple; it turns out not to be a Granny Smith but instead is green because it isn’t ripe.
At least I made a huge batch of chocolate chip cookies on the weekend, which the milliner hasn’t eaten all of… yet.
Mix up a blender of lime margaritas. Prepare some nachos. Plonk myself down in front of the tele and enjoy the final of what’s been a fine season of The Amazing Race, especially compared to the, how do you say? Ah yes… craptastic previous season.
Oh, and in all honesty? Go Rob and Amber. Yeah, you heard me.
I will be happy with a Uchenna & Joyce victory as well.
I won’t even mention that other “couple.”
The night before I headed out to Vegas to meet up with the milliner, I henna’ed my hair copper (to, ahem, hide the encroaching gray. shut up!). I figured, what the heck. So, I get to that little Nevada hellmouth, she picks me up at the airport and we head over to the car rental place. We’re being completely ignored, so I go inside to give the person behind the counter what for.
Come back outside, and there’s some good ol’ boy chatting her up. No problem, she can handle herself. He’s sees me coming, looks at her with the red hair, looks at me with the red hair, and asks, “are you two brother and sister or boyfriend/girlfriend?” We only thought of it afterward to say ‘both.’ This resemblance was remarked upon again this weekend.
Whatever, happy b-day, milliner. I can’t believe that, as a redheaded taurus, she still hasn’t beaten me up yet.