This Is Just Sad

What is going on here?

I just got this email from our local theatre.



Howard Jones? THE Howard Jones...English Electronica Pop Singer of the 80s Howard Jones? Doing an acoustic duo at the local West Palm Beach theatre.

My world has crumbled. No One Is To Blame, Howard? No, I'm sorry - you are. Absolutely hair-raising...like your eyebrows - which have seemed to jump ship into your receding hairline.

Get a load of the password: nowhere.

That pretty much sums up your career Howie.

Here's the Deal

Listen up Hell's Kitchen candidates!

Have you morons never watched the show? Did you go into this Inferno unawares? Can you really stand there and tell me that you are surprised when you are included in the last three standing and Chef wants you to take over the Pass? What's with the plating up and sending food out WITHOUT TASTING IT?! You honestly didn't think that Scott the Chef was going to purposely leave out an important ingredient...say like the crab in the Crab Spaghetti??!!

Guh. I can't cook, but I know my TV. Wake up people.

High School Confidential

1. Who was your best friend?

Tara Nelson - she was 6'1" in 6th grade.

2. Did you play any sports?

Sports for me was running for the bus to catch the 42 downtown to ballet class at 2:30 every day. I did do the shot-put for a second while I was in my I'm Quitting Dance phase.

3. What kind of car did you drive?
I got my first car when I was in my 20s.

4. It’s Friday night. Where were you?
With Tara, trying to get into a bar with fake English accents. "Is this a pub or a disco?" Worked once...

5. Were you a party animal?
Not really, but I did my share of puking.

6. Were you considered a flirt?
Yes. In my own mind, everyone was after me.

7. Were you in the band, orchestra or choir?
No time.

8. Were you a nerd?
When I had to wear my back brace and take it off before gym class. Embarrassing!

9. Were you ever suspended or expelled?
Nope, I was a goody two shoes teachers pet.

10. Can you sing the fight song?
What's a fight song...?

11. Who was your favorite teacher?
Mr. Zutz for English. He made us do an essay every Friday. He set me up for life, man. I was prepped.

12. What was your school mascot?
No idea.

13. Did you go to the Prom?
Two, but in Canada it was "Grad." In Florida, I went with Michael, my gay, not-gay, gay best friend.

14. If you could go back, would you?
Umm, why? I like where I am now.

15. What do you remember most about graduation?
I remember most that I didn't go. As soon as I didn't need to be in class anymore, I hightailed it back to Canada, my ballet school and my boyfriend, in that order.

16. Where were you on Senior Skip Day?
I think we got bussed to Disney...foggy, not sure.

17. Did you have a job your senior year?
Apprenticing with Ballet Florida - it was there, performing in the middle of Romeo and Juliet that my light bulb went on and I decided to dance professionally before I went to teaching school in England (never made it to the teaching school, so I guess I made the right decision).

18. Where did you go most often for lunch?
A&W for Teen Burgers.

19. Have you gained weight since then?
Yep, but not until about 5 years ago when I retired from dancing.

20. What did you do after graduation?
Dance (are you yawning yet? I was a little one dimensional back then).

21. What year did you graduate?
1987

22. Are you going/did you go to your 10 year reunion?
Uh, yeah, that would be 20 year reunion this year, and no.

Girls, Girls, Girls

What started out as a plan to have a small "Sister's Night" might turn out to be a whole hog Sorority Party.

E, J and I were going to meet at D.D.'s (umm, yeah, so much for protecting the innocent...D.D. reads Dee Dee, so let's just call her that) Dee Dee's new apartment since I'm the only one of the three of us who has seen it yet. A little wine and then we were to move on to the little B&B at the end of Rosemary St. for a few cocktails and chatties.

Well, looks like J might be bringing C and S and E called and left messages with G (the cropper crier) and J.B. While calling G and J.B., she got a message from K - who we're not really sure will fit into tonight's company...she tends to be loud and look at me (K just got a boob job and likes to wear inappropriate clothing to family BBQs). So if the skinny gets around E's neighbourhood that the chicks are getting together to go out, we'll have to include K - hell, might as well bring L along as well. I like L, but I'm not she she could get down (like we're going to get down, we late 30 and early 40s mamas, ooh yeah, look at us go).

I aspire to this tonight:



So all is up in the air right now. I will keep you posted in the am - may be later in the day if we manage to act like we're 20 again.

Introducing The Best Day Ever (except for being born and getting married)

I have previously mentioned my little slice of food perfection...here is my little slice of weekend heaven:



Although I did have a small imperfection in my day:



After I had a 20 second cry an a quick dip to cool off, I watched this hot, backyard one on one action:



After that, I had to take another dip in the pool - this time to rinse off the dirtiness I was feeling.
The Mank Monster was curious (I mean, c'mon...she's a cat) and had been heading for the show...



But she never quite made it.



The distant rumble of thunder and a few sudden flashes of lightning sent me scurrying inside...



...but that was fine. I was a little crispy by then anyway.

Now That's Love

Fart eating undies

One man has tackled one of the world's most embarrassing body odour issues.

American Buck Wiemer invented a pair of underpants that filters out the smell of farts from the wearer.

The inventor, who won an Ig Nobel prize in 2001 for his unique product, says he designed the underpants for his wife, who as a sufferer of Crohns disease, found herself embarrassed by her inability to control her gassy emissions.

With the underpants made of plastic, the only place for gases to exit the body is through a triangular pocket strategically placed over the bottom. Inside the pocket is a piece of carbon that filters out smelly gases as they pass through, making the wind more palatable to the nose on the other side.

Weimer can't make this year's IgNobel tour but Kees Moeliker, the Dutch biologist who leapt to fame with the first description of homosexual necrophilia in the mallard duck, will be there to report on his latest project.

Had A Great Moment Tonight

On my own, My Guy in Vegas, just arrived home from dropping off my niece back at home (we watched Ratatouille in the theatre).

Got home, fed Manky Cat and decided I didn't want to cook, so I went to our favourite haunt, solo, and tucked into the outside bar for a late meal.

Tonight's dinner, though outside, was very different from last night's. It was hot yes, but I was relaxed, in a tank top, and loving my surroundings.

Here was my moment:

The Steak Diane arrived and it's first waft was divine - I couldn't wait to get into it. I had a cold glass of chardonnay, a side of veg, Weezer's Island in the Sun was booming and I was watching a surfing video.

That was it. It was a little slice of perfection.

And I was flirted with 6 separate times! Does an old body good to know she can still work it even when she's not...

Theme of the Evening: Vomit

I just spent three and a half hours feeling light-head and vomity at a business dinner with a dude from Ohio who wanted to enjoy the 87 degree evening heat on the patio of a Palm Beach restaurant ...

Guess who was vurping the whole time the sweat was trickling down her back, her pants were giving her ass a heat rash, her pits were drowning in their own juices?

Hey what a great idea! Let's do pan-fried mussels for appetizers! A bottle of tepid red Amoroso wine? Okay. Mmmm...steaming hot fish with wilted spinach and dried out carrots! Dessert? Why the fuck not?! Molten Chocolate Cake? Uh-huh. Oooh yes, let's have hot coffee with that! Could the waiter take any longer with the bill? I'm not sure.

It'll be a miracle if I'm not dead in the morning from fucking dehydration.

To top of my steaming pile of poo dinner, I had to come home to a vocally angry, starving cat who gobbled down her dinner so fast that it came up two minutes later at twice the speed. She was actually sitting on one of our 18" floor tiles and managed to lob her sick up and over to the middle of the next tile. I took a picture of the resulting pool. It was a lot of chum. Maybe I'll post it in the morning, but I may think better of it...I don't want to cause a Blueberry Eating Pie Contest Chain Reaction.

Oooh, and...

$4125.00The Cadaver Calculator - Find out how much your body is worth. From Mingle2 - Free Online Dating

It Was The Question About The Comic Books That Put Me Over The Edge

33% Geek

Four Hundred and 57 Channels (And Nothin' On)

It is Wednesday night in the Follies household. I'm on my own for the week (My Guy is in Newport Beach, with a side trip to Vegas and a bit of work in San Fran). The order of business is feed self and veg on couch with the telly for the night. Unfortunately, here are a few of the choices Comcast is offering up at 8:00 pm:

• Ferrets: The Pursuit of Excellence
• The Boy with a New Head
• Halloweentown High
• Poisonous Women
• God Forgives, I Don't
• Pork Chop Hill
• Too Much, TV

To much tv, indeed. No lie you guys, these are real titles. WTF!? Thank Minerva for the Top Chef marathon on Bravo.

The Japanese Are Weird Buggers...And I Love Them

So I'm sitting at the desk, minding my own business, wondering what the weird noises are coming from E's computer...then she suddenly says, quite seriously, "Are we supposed to be catching the poop?"

Intrigued, I immediately went to my Outlook to see if there was a message with a link from the cK. Yep - and here it is.

My Mom Washed My Mouth Out With Soap

Madre shamed me last year by reading my blog and saying that she couldn't believe it was her daughter writing all this....stuff.

So I cleaned it up (a bit) and now I get this:



Pah! PG-13. I'd rather be dirty.

Happiness Is...

Cleaning out your fridge and giving the neighbour the stash of Stella Artois that you are never going to drink. More food space, happy neighbour who is friendly with the cops. Win, win!

2nd Verse! Same As The 1st!

I could write down all the stuff I did today, but it would look a lot like the last post. Glad My Guy and I got whacked with the same lazy stick - it would have been a drag to pull the other along if one of us had had more energy than the other.

Actually, the day started and ended a little differently. We went out to Boston's for breakfast. The clientele can be a bit harsh there and I'm sure Shirley, our waitress, has seen her share of Hardened Bikers and Boca Bitches. She was super efficient but not, shall we say, of the jolly persuasion. After she refilled our coffee, I commented to Ray that I was pretty sure if I ghosted her all day I could still count the number of times she smiled on one hand. And he immediately added to that by saying, "yeah and she'd still have enough left-over to make the peace sign and pick her nose." This is why I love My Guy. He's quick and deadly.

Our evening ended by finally defrosting and eating our wedding cake topper - a year and a half later. Really the whole thing looked fabulous but was completely inedible because the rum soaked cake had gone from 40% alcohol to about 160%. Luckily it wasn't a birthday cake because lighting the candles would've burned our entire development to the ground. We were going to watch our wedding video, but somehow we ended up watching bits of From Dusk Til Dawn II: Texas Blood Money during the commercial breaks of two episodes of Law & Order.

Nuttin Honey

That's pretty much what I did today.

Did the usual early morning coffee/bagel run and then managed a bit of weeding in the garden. By weeding, I mean chopping the hell out of our small dying/dead Oleander tree. And by garden, I mean our 7 plants in the smallest backyard in the world to house a wading pool. In between all this, I was rudely interrupted by an angry husband who attacked me with sunscreen. "I don't want to be caressing leathery sin when we're 60. Put this on. I mean it."

Then, we basically spent the entire rest of the day in the pool. We emerged to make a rum and coke with our Quinzos sandwiches, but quickly slunk back in the 75 degree bathwater pool to escape the 90 degree heat. And oh yeah, there were plenty more sunscreen applications. The top of our pool looks like the Exxon Valdez retired to an old folks home in Florida and decided, on an Alzheimer-induced wander, to take a quick dip in our backyard. Hmmm, the ducks from the neighbouring pond did seem to be nervously eyeing our oil-slicked pool this afternoon...I wonder if ducks can feel ancestral phantom trauma.

Much of the same for tomorrow I'm guessing. I might attempt to make some Indian food. Maybe we can skim the pool later in the day and use the clarified remains to make ghee...

Much Like The Unenjoyment Office...

The Social Insecurity Office is a nightmare!! In the third of four steps needed to relinquish my 1st married name and grab a tight hold of my 2nd married name, I had to brave this quest (foolishly) on a Friday afternoon thinking, ha ha, that it wouldn't be that full.

Guh.

When we were "seasonally unemployed" back in the ballet days, my husband and I used to play the Unenjoyment Office game when we went to apply every summer. Much like Spot the Toupee that my girlfriends and I play at concerts, the Unenjoyment Game consisted of spotting the Lesbian Couple, the Angry Black Woman, the Haggard "I Can't Hear You're Nagging Anymore" WASPy husband and wife couple, the Stripper/Hooker and the Poor Soul Who Doesn't Speak English and Therefore is Never in the Right Line. We found all of them almost every single time.

Guess what? They aren't just in California. They're in Florida too, livin' large. Here, Lesbian Couple were pissed that they had to wait so long, Angry Black Woman was behind me and had no concept about Personal Space. I swear, if she huffed and muttered down my neck one more time I was about to go Jerry Springer on her ass. At one point, she had her elbow and entire forearm ahead of me in line while she leaned on the stanchion post. I wish I had my camera with me because I could have shared a great shot of my new passport with teeth marks in it. Pretty sure WASPy couple came from Boca and maybe even followed me from Oakland... Stripper/Hooker had the biggest schmeebs I think I have ever seen in real life (and they were being only just harnessed by a green crisscross bathing suit under her bedazzled two sizes too small jeans) and Poor Soul had still not been helped by the time I left with the promise that I would have a new card in two weeks.

An aside: Previous stories about my 4-year-old nephew have graced this blog - many of them having a religious theme. He goes to a Christian Pre-school - his parents are decidedly not, but they like the atmosphere and the educational care.

Today after school:

K: Mommy, can I see your bracelet that Auntie Lollie gave you for being a bridesmaid at her wedding?
E: Sure sweetheart (removes silver cuff bracelet from arm and hands to small child)
K: Mommy look at me! (shoving the bracelet onto his bicep)
E: Hey! You look like a Super Hero!
K: No Mama, I look like a Philistine!

My brother and E continue to be horrified...

Frustrado

I think My Guy is having a bad week...apparently, he has been manhandling his face a bit. Not sure if it is me (I've been nagging a lot lately) or work. This was the message that I received from him this morning:

Running my hands over my forehead and feel a bump on one of my eyebrows and I’m thinking “holy cow have I got food in my eyebrow?” I manage to get my fingers on the offending eyebrow hair and try to scrape this food particle off it thinking “god I’m a slob”.

No go.

So I just yank the hair out (ouch) and take a look at it – nope, not food, my eyebrow got so long and I’d been running my hands over my face so much that the eyebrow KNOTTED. That’s right, I’m fucking KNITTING WITH MY EYEBROWS.

At least he's not this guy. (Warning: this may make you want to vomit, especially if you are a guy.) (2nd Warning: You probably shouldn't open this if you are at work. Nakedness is about to ensue.)

A Couple Things

1) Ray has a friend who described something very funny the other day. Conferences = nights of entertaining which basically mean heavy drinking + steak houses. Lots of steak + lots of martinis = The Meat Sweats. The Meat Sweats! I love it.

2) The Good Thing: I had to go home early from work yesterday. Yay! The Bad Thing: I had to go home from work early yesterday because my youngest nephew peed all over my T-shirt and new jeans. Not so yay.

3) An old man tried to kill me this morning by turning left onto my one way road and heading straight for me. He must've been in an Early Bird Breakfast Coma because he didn't realize it until I laid on my horn and scared the Bejeez out of him. He then proceeded to do a U-turn and cut everyone behind me off as well. Good Morning Grandpa!

4) Book Club last night. We were reading A Thousand Splendid Suns - a hard book to read as a woman, but it generated a lot of good discussion. There was talk about combining the monthly book meeting with scrapbooking. Not sure how excited I am about this...The next book is The Best of Friends.

Viva La Bam

Emeril is not my favourite guy on the Food Network (truth be told, I actually turn the channel when I see him and his band). However, this cat knows how to run a restaurant and his New Orleans style chow is so so so good.

I started with a potable de perfection in a martini glass: Emeril's Oasis. Van Gogh coconut vodka mixed with pineapple and mango vodkas and a splash of mango nectar. An orchid was swimming in the mix. Sweet Phalenopsis it's tasty. The amuse was a gorgeous little morsel of smoked salmon laying on a tiny pillow of asparagus soup, topped with cucumber yogurt and micro greens. My starter was an oyster salad (deep fried oysters with salty greens and a cucumber relish), and for my entree I had the seared Yellowfin Tuna with fingerling potatoes. Hey, I'd eat stir-fried thumbs if they came with fingerling potatoes.

I have to go and pay some long needed attention to my poor cat. She has been passed off like Oliver and Little Orphan Annie this past week.

Cuddle Monkey at the ready. And...launch.

Quick Update

So far, all is good. Great hotel, lovely room (once it was ready...boo hoo us, we were forced to go out back by the pool and eat ceviche from a martini glass until we could get the room at 4:00). Now I am lounging in the room watching crap on the boob. (My Super Sweet Sixteen Highlight Reel and a marathon of Charm School. I'm actually listening to my brain liquefy right now.) I might interject here that my sweet sixteen (purposely written in lower case) sucked bag. My mom forgot my birthday completely until I "reminded" her that night. By reminded, I mean slamming my door and crying all night.

Some Things I Have Never Seen Before:

1) There is a massive selection of gay, bi, and trannie porn on the movie listing in this room. One of the flicks is described as follows:
AC/DC Orgy a non-stop orgy of bi-sexual guys who love to screw guys and to screw girls. Four guys and girls who really know how to mix it up.

Umm - is this new to anyone else, or is the whole bi porn in the hotel adult entertainment menu old hat? Have I been living under a rock? I just need to know.

2) A dude with dreads down to the pavement. Seriously, this is an example of what would happen if Bob Marley and Crystal Gayle mated. How long could this have taken to grow knotty locks down to the floor? The guy didn't even look old enough to have hair that long.

Back with more later - off to the Rose Bar in The Delano for drinks before Emeril's!

Miami Redux

Surprise, we're going to Miami tonight! My Guy has another conference so we are going to head out to South Beach for a lovely evening in a different hotel (thank you, fortuitous stars!). The National, I'm told, is lovely. Hopefully we'll have none of that nastiness that was The Marseilles from last time. Looking forward to a clean lobby where they can find our reservation, a clean room where I don't mind sitting on the furniture without a towel, an air conditioning unit that has actual numbers on it - not just a knob on the wall, a pool that is not full of Cha-Cha bitches who want to scream in the hallway at 4 in the morning and a back bar that is not pumping foulness that they were passing off as appropriate public music (earmuffs, children, earmuffs!!!).

Not sure where we are going for dinner, but I'm hoping it involves plantains. I'm in a Cuban State of Mind.

Back to work in the morning, so I will be hitting the freeway at the wee hours. I'm off to pack my ditty-bag! Ciao Bellas!

Behind The Eight Ball

Found it...

8) I worked one time as a "model" in San Francisco in the early 90's at the downtown Chanel Salon for an Oakland Ballet fund raising gig. It was very cool to have the makeup artist do my Chanel face Kewpie-doll style and wear drop dead gorgeous Chanel clothing. Worker Mommy only went to 7 so I only included Whiskey's side of life for number 8.

That is all.

Actually, that is not all.

What's worse than coming home tired from a 5 day trip at 10 pm after a 7 hour plane ride and finding a pile of dog shit on your driveway? Waking up in the morning to hose it off only to find that a wad a pink chewing gum has come to keep it company. WTF?!! When did our front yard become the New Jersey dump?

Dear Neighbours,

My husband says that if he catches you spitting out your gum or sees your dog spitting out his poo on our driveway again, he will go Robocop On Your Ass and snap your neck (and your little dog too). I happen to like my life and I really want to decorate our Brooklyn apartment. Do not make me scrabble for bail trying to get him out of the pokey.

Mixed Messages

Worker Mommy and WhiskeyMarie, my two favourite WMs both got separately tagged and in one form or another, consequently tagged me. I'm going to take their answers and give a version of my own in their themes.
1) Back when I was dancing for a living, I saw a program on PBS called form the Farm to the Table (or something along those lines). I was perfectly horrified to see how animals were being treated through the process of ending up in the grocery store so I immediately gave up meat and stayed that way for a year. Until I saw the doctor who was wondering why my recent knee surgery was taking so long to heal. He looked into my eyes and saw that my rims were almost perfectly white. "Anemia. Eat some meat young lady, or your career will suffer." 'Nuff said. Back to the meat...however, to this day I still refuse to eat veal and goose liver. This, BTW, was back 20 pounds ago when my boobies were much too small to have even an iota of movement, whether I was pogo sticking up the stairs or doing the regular style climbing. I still don't have much to hold, but there is a nice handful there during the Swollen Days - ladies, you know when I mean.

2) I love punctuation and made it a pre-requisite when I was selecting "suitors" from match.com (where I met My Guy). He could spell, punctuate and convey a coherent thought, a skill that seemed to escape about 85% of the ManBoys out there. I love to type and punctuate to gay dance music which I listen to on the Internet during office hours (when I'm alone). There is truly nothing better than streaming gay dance music while you enter droll geosynthetic values into a database.

3) I was never voted Most Expressive/Creative in High School or any other place, however, in my estimation, I'm pretty creative. Other things that get me through my workday other than gay dance music (see above) are the times when I get to do really fun things with graphics or tinker on the Bridal site I manage. I like my job (mostly because it helps my parents - its their business - and I am helping the environment in a small way) but I love my job when I can create beautiful or interesting things. ps - I'd be outta there in a New York Minute if I won the lottery.

4) SmallTalkLollie and ChopTalkLollie both live in my head and I never know which one is going to emerge until I open my mouth. Yesterday at the Bris, CTL fell out. I was trying to talk to the hostess, my cousin's husband's Dad's girlfriend and it was just a pathetic display. I also had horrible diarrhea pains so no cogs, brain or digestive, inside my body were working properly. I would have been much better off holed up alone in the hotel room watching a talent-based reality show such as Top Chef, Project Runway or Top Design. I have zero shame about being addicted to these shows. I will even avoid very important phone calls to watch them uninterrupted.

5) I, too, have been on only one blind date in my life. It was with the butcher's son (Mom worked there briefly). Zero chemistry, at least on my part. He was all excited about taking me to Red Lobster in West Palm Beach. If he had proposed the Monster Truck Jam I think we could have saved everybody involved a little heartache as it would have come to a screeching halt right then. During dinner, we had nothing to talk about except Stephen King novels. The date ended badly with a lame walk on the tar covered beach and him trying to slip and arm around me on his crappy porch couch and kiss me while I was busy trying to remove the gunk from the bottom of my feet with a cotton ball full of baby oil. I ducked and ran and never returned (and also have never been back to a Red Lobster). Come to think of it, Mom stopped working there shortly thereafter, but I don't think it had anything to do with me...

6) As I as I am wont to do when I search for coffee in the am, I tried to smile at a few people here while I was walking down Robson Street in Van this morning...didn't turn out so well. Is it the city atmosphere? I don't know. People seemed a lot friendlier when I lived here in The Great White North where I often went cross country skiing and downhill skied once getting the most horrible reflective sunburn I've ever had in my life. It made my nose and neck peel very badly.

7) My favourite number is 13, we have it all over our lives in our clan. Lots of people have died, been born, been married, etc. on a 13. It is a magical number for me - I even won the one and only time I ever gambled in Vegas. I walked up to the roulette table, laid down a buck on thirteen and won a 35 to 1 bet. The dealer was astounded when I collected my $35 clams and walked away. Don't think I haven't kicked myself in the ass multiple times for not betting more. I am also convinced it will be a part of my future winning lottery ticket. And it is approximately the number of times I have done illicit drugs which were fun at the time (first try at the age of 28), but haven't touched for years (and probably won't again).

8) I seem to have lost number 8 but I will fish it out of my laptop tonight at home.

More Things I Have Never Seen Before

Some of these are pre-trip, some are as recent as this morning getting coffee at 6:40 in Vancouver (ahh, jet lag).

• A van with the back window cut out to fit an apartment air conditioning unit
• A middle-aged man who really should have known better than to constawaddy the nine people behind him in an airport security line (post screening) to tie not one but both of his fucking Topsiders. We were all jammed up and collecting like the chocolates in that I Love Lucy episode.
• A regular old, white, Toyota Corolla driving next to us as we taxied in the plane. No logos, no purpose...just a regular sedan on the tarmac.
• A cracked fender exposing half of the sturdy underpinnings of the car, meaning...Styrofoam. Umm, yeah, are the doors on this particular make and model made of spit and Kleenex?
• A Port-A-Potty being hauled up by a crane to the top of a new building under construction. I guess if you gotta go up there, you gotta go.
• Stanley Park and its raccoons. Not sure if the whole "aren't we cute" act was to lure you in for the rabid throat kill. We gave them a wide berth.

And...

Note to Self:
Never again have a Tequila Sour the evening after a long flight where you drink no water Mrs Dehydrated Head.

A one drink hangover headache is seriously embarrassing. We all know you can do much better.

No Slice and Dice

I'm quite relieved to report that there will be no side of Screaming with today's order of Naming Ceremony. Ray, Mom and I are in Vancouver (arrived yesterday with a refreshingly short jaunt through customs - Three Hour Nightmare last trip, Fifteen Minute Pleasure Cruise this time). Although our bag got completely destroyed, everything went smoothly.

So yeah, babies are as cute as buttons, Nathaniel (Nate the quiet patient one) and Jeremiah (Remy the mischievous monkey). They are a little underweight, as twins are wont to be, so the Mohel wants to wait a little before he has to put their teeny tiny bodies through surgery. Mom is relieved. I am consequently also relieved as we were asked yesterday to be the Kvatter and Kvatterin (Godparents) for the ceremony. This is really a terrific honour for Ray and I, especially because we are not Jewish. This means Ray and I are responsible for transporting the babies from Mom to Dad to Mohel. I take the children from Sarah and hand them to Ray who hands them to Todd who then would, if there was going to be a circumcision, hand them to the Mohel. Kind of like baby Rugby. Even though we are really thrilled to have this job, I'm pretty relieved in that we don't have to be a part of the pain (before arriving, I was secretly fascinated that there was going to be surgery in an apartment - but I'm actually glad that we can all just be happy through the naming ceremony without the wails and winces).

This all happens at 5:30 tonight. Lots of (but not all) family will be there. Should be a pretty interesting night. I will take notes and report to duty later. I think we are going for a walk in Stanley Park now. Ray is pissed that he'll be in Canada for July 4th, but not as pissed that he is missing the Transformers opening!! I'll have to make it up to him with a sparkler in a flag cake when we get home.