Chicas in the DC

OK, so one of the greatest things about the summertime, other than sunburned shoulders, and barbecues, and catching fireflies, and any of the other shallow Hallmark sentiments designed to make you overlook the boredom and whining and human limbs decimated by godforsaken mosquito bites, is going on Vacation. I mean taking a proper, get-away-from-home-and-work-and-Hobbit Vacation, and not just for a long weekend. I mean like a full week. I don't take vacations very often because you have to pay for them, and also because bad things tend to happen to Kelly-Girl when I'm away from home for more than 3 days. Last year, the Chicas and I went to visit my parents in San Francisco, and I wound up in the hospital for 4 days, and this past March I got trapped by weather for an extra day and a half in Jersey, which wasn't really so bad because at least there I had access to pizza and pork-roll and oh man, I gotta get back there.

So anyway the Chicas and I went to Washington, DC at the end of August. And yes, we packed up the Highlander and drove Griswald-style to our Nation's Capital. We had our Barnes and Noble tour book and my AAA Trip-Tik because I am old-school and I do not dig that Garmin-chick telling me what to do. We were so ready to go. Just look at them as we pulled outta the D on day one, all full of hopes and dreams and excitement at 6:30 in the morning...

First stop was Richmond, VA to see my old buddy JM and his family. And yes, I am now acutely aware of the fact that I drove right past DC to get to Richmond, and I will also tell you I did it in the pouring rain, and that my 9.5 hour trip took a full 12 hours, but that is besides the point. It was well worth it to see JM and his lovely wife Laura and their two boys whom the Chicas now secretly love. Plus it was so nice to finally be around God-Fearing Yankee fans again.

So the next day we headed back up I-95 to my Aunt Irene's house. We had a really great visit with her and my Uncle Tom. She fed and watered us and hooked us up with transpo to the Metro. I would post a picture of her, but there's a strict photographic-approval process in place in my family, and there just wasn't time to get all the legalese and paperwork in place. So yeah, we ventured into the city and that's where the fun began. I will begin your photo journey thusly....Middle Chica could not wrap her head around the fact that there was neither a Sbarro nor a Claire's at the National Mall, but that's a great shot, yeah? How about this one taken from the other direction? Now you should all know by now, my Lovelies, that I'm not going to bore you with cookie-cutter, Stepford-perfect pictures of my kids in front of various National points of interest. My name is not Julie McCoy, and I don't roll like that. Instead, I will offer you images like this...The looks on their faces so perfectly capture the fact that I'd failed to take into consideration the heat, humidity, and the amount of walking that we would do...and this was taken within the first hour. Oooh, how about this one for the Christmas card...Or this one of the Wee Chica and her Dirty Little Secret on our "Tour of DC at Night after a Day-Long Death March"...

Now I don't want to make it seem like we didn't have any fun. Because we did. We had a great time. We even stopped to see my mom (don't ask) and went to Mr. Jack Hanna's Columbus Zoo because we really had not walked enough.

So what can I take away from my 7 day journey with my Chicas? Well, we had a blast, and got ourselves 642 pictures and a whole boatload of memories. It wasn't always pretty, but we did it. And, I think it was important for them to see me pull it off by myself. I mean it wouldn't have been possible without my family and friends, but ultimately I was the one who got it done. Yes, I daresay it was a moment of Yanni-loving-munchy-crunchy empowerment. Plus it was kind of nice to be the super-happy-fun-parent for a change. All that and I got me a nifty new Obama magnet for the fridge. Yeah, it was a great Vacation.

Thank You Spartan Don

OK, so one of the things I've found incredibly ironic lately is that I started this here blog to report on my life and all of my compelling and hysterical observations regarding my fabulous existence. Except the only thing was that I didn't really have a life...I mean I did, I was breathing and responding and all that technical medical jargon, but all I did was work and come home and tend to the Chicas. And provide you with breathtakingly witty prose about my comings and goings.

And then Mr. White came along.

And so now I have someone to hang out with and do stuff with...did you know that there are these places called "restaurants" where employees come to your table, and you order food and beverages, and they bring them to you? And sometimes you can sit outside and the same thing happens? Genius...I wish I would have thought of that. Actually, that's an exaggeration. I've been to restaurants before, except now that I'm with a grown-up I don't order nuggets, and I don't have to cut anyone's food, and I only venture to the bathroom when I myself have to pee, and there had only been one slap-fight that required intervention. At another table. How nice is that?

Yes, it is very nice. Except now that I have good news to report, I have very little time left with which to report it.

Thus my dilemma.

So to summarize my life in the last month...Chicas are fine and started school again, thank the Lord in heaven above. The Hobbit and his Council of Darkness finally crossed the line into "Hell Hath no Fury-Land." Work at the Cube Farm is good and that's about as strong an adjective as I can muster. The FM continues his quest to be a thorn in my side forever more. Football season has started, which always makes me yearn for being home in Jersey and having access to a proper NFL team, or at least the disposable income with which to purchase the Sunday Ticket. And then there's Mr. White. Sigh. I won't bore you or induce queasiness with the in-depth details, but suffice it to say he is great, funny, and wicked tall, he weathered my first neurotic outburst very well, and I am happy. So there.

So yeah, it took actually getting booed by one of you, my Lovelies, to get me off my sorry ass and get back to work here on the blog. So everyone can thank Spartan Don, and we can move on. OK?