VIP’s were supposed to be here… um, yeah, almost 12 hours ago.
They called last night to say that the flight from Minneapolis had been CANCELED due to SOMETHING WRONG WITH THE PLANE.
With the storms, they weren’t able to get a flight out last night.
So, this morning, they were ready to leave at 750 (CST). They called to let me know that there was now an oil leak and this flight was going to be delayed, thus, they would miss their additional connecting flight.
Well, NOW, they’re catching ANOTHER plane and perhaps this one will make it here by 3pm.
They were supposed to get in last night at 10.
Okay, seriously, I want them here, but I also do not want them dead.
At least Male VIP takes it with a grain of salt… “The acronym for this airline must be ‘Nonsensical Wayward Answers’ or ‘Never Will Again’.”
Meanwhile, I can visualize Female VIP stomping her foot in the terminal and crying in frustration.
Yup, don’t know where I get it from..
First and foremost, I am in such a good mood (right now).
Last night, armed with my last last-minute-list, I headed to Wegmans.
Not at all off topic, but for those of you who aren’t familiar with Facebook, there’s an application called “Pick Five” in which you’re given a category and well, I think it explains itself.
A while ago, I posted this Pick Five:
(Peanut butter, disposable razors, a basket of kittens, lighters and Lucky Charms)
Right, so, where was I…
When the time came to load up the belt with my purchases, I realized that my order must have made me look like I was preparing for one hell of a good time.
18 pack of MGD64 (for female VIP), 12 pack of Miller High Life (for Steve), 12 pack of Saranac Summer Pack (for me), Mt. Dew Code Red (for Male VIP), Vitamin Water, fruit flavored seltzer water, black tea, milk, 12 rolls of 2-ply toilet paper (for Steve), 3 rolls of 1-ply TP (for me), shaving cream and a Lean Cuisine.
Party up in here!
Well, things went well last night.
There wasn’t a catfight, much to the sadness of my readers, I know…
Instead… over dinner
SMS: So, what do you want for your birthday?
me: Well, are we starting from scratch or have you started shopping?
SMS: Let’s say we’re starting from scratch.
me: OH! A Bike!
SMS: A bike?
me: Yeah, I think I would like a bike.
SMS: I was going to get you a bike, but I didn’t know what kind you wanted. Okay, we can head to Dick’s.*
SMS: Let’s say we’re NOT starting from scratch…
me: Um, well, a summer comforter for the bed, some clothes, maybe some kitchen gadget, a make-up consultation.
SMS: Ummmm hmmmmm.
While at Dick’s, the sales guy asks me what kind of riding I do.
It is then that it occurs me me that my last bike was a Huffy. Not that there’s anything wrong with the fine products from Huffy, but I’m pretty sure that I pedaled backward to stop.
A couple of very wobbly trips around the store (“Look out! Bike rider in heels! Coming through!”), we agree upon the DiamondBack Vital 2.
We end up having to go tot the other end of the mall and in doing so, we pass Build-a-Bear.
“Mom! Can we build a bear?! MOM! Can we build a bear?!”, I mockingly ask.
And the next thing I know, she’s telling me to pick out a toy. “You know I was kidding right?” I say.
“Pick. Out. A. Toy.”
Well, when everything was said and done, I ended up with a teddy bear.
We named him “Tres Zee”; for thirty, get it?!?! And he sings happy birthday. If anyone else is on buildabearville.com, let me know, we can be beary friends!
Part of me feels silly, “I got a BIKE! and a TEDDY BEAR for my birthday!!!” and part of me is like, “I am helping the environment and economy by purchasing a bicycle and a portion of Tres’ purchase is going to help sick kids. AWESOME!”
Worth mention: We had one drink a piece.
* Note: Dick’s Sporting Goods. Also note, dickssportinggoods.com, not dicks.com. One has things for watersports while the other features watersports. Just saying.
With T-3ish days until my VIPs arrive (seeing as of now, it’s early Tuesday and they’re in late on Thursday) and multiple commitments until then, well, The Neurosis Train has pretty much come to a complete stop.
Tonight is our annual MIL/DIL dinner and birthday* shopping extravaganza.
We’re meeting for dinner and drinks at Hyde Park (while I don’t care for chains, I figure if you’re treating, I’ll go where you want) and then tackling the local mega mall.
Yeah yeah, I know that malls are all kinds of weird BUT they have a two chef stores!
My goal this year is to be able to be cognizant enough to be able to partake in shopping.
Last year saw four pomegranate martinis and a giddy Stephanie running through Urban Outfitters trying to determine what items would most annoy her husband.
Wednesday I’m hoping to get an oil change and tire rotation as I’ll be primary toter. Bailey will be getting her talons filed; she got a bath on Sunday (“Explain again to me what she rolled in… she’s Camping Dirty**.”) but still needs a shedender treatment. And a festive scarf.
Thursday gives me four-ish hours for Catty Thursday with Melissa, vacuuming…
I need to figure out where to put bathroom re-grouting*** and bathroom cleaning.
Meanwhile, the walls are all washed, which, at the time, didn’t seem like such a bad gig until I realized just how much grime can collect in coughsixyearscough.
Light bulbs are changed.
Towels are folded and matched.
Guest room is cleaned and bed is made.
Office is clean (who would have guessed there is a floor in there?!).
Our room is clean.
And for good measure, I vacuumed the laundry room and I may have vacuumed the lint off the PVC piping.
So, reader(s) when you have people arriving, how soon do you start the madness?
Do you set a schedule or timetable?
When it comes to the last minute, which tasks become less important?
* Oh, yeah, right, so by this time next week, I’ll be the big three-oh.
** “Camping Dirty”: Chocolate Lab + countess streams + muddy campsites + rocks + beer ponds = very very very dirty doggie.
*** I figure that re-grouting will be easier than digging with a toothbrush. Famous last words.
Our friends “Charlotte” and “Teppo” have a ad-or-ab-le two month old baby boy.
We always try to make them feel welcome, letting them know that we will always play “Pass the Baby!” (in which the baby goes from adult to adult while the parents partake in activities)
While “Charlotte” was preparing to feed, Baby was Not Happy.
Wailing in the way that only small children can, Bailey finally notices that there is a little person at the end of the sofa.
Bailey looks at Baby, looks at me, looks at Baby.
Bailey crawls across the sofa, across me and looks at Baby, as this beautiful diagram illustrates.
Baby continues to cry.
Bailey starts sniffing at Baby, “WHAT is this?!” she asks. “It is a squeekey toy? I can totally get that squeeker out!”
Meanwhile, Baby is quite yelly, unaware that Bailey is asking to carry him around.
After many “NO! Do NOT eat the Baby!” Bailey resorts to trying to communicate.
(for those of you, which is like, pretty much everyone, who hasn’t met Bailey, she does try to “talk”… I.E. When you come in the door, she sounds like a wookie. Due to trying to keep my dog from trying to carry a baby around, I was unable to get the camera. Steve and Teppo were playing Wii.)
To this Baby looks bewildered and continues to cry.
Bailey decides that because it Baby isn’t a toy or a treat, retreats to the end of the sofa and looks at me like “It’s loud. Make it stop.”
For the record, Bailey is 100% better with toddlers/babies who can sit up.
In the summer at SMS’, Bailey will sit in the kiddie pool while children dump water on her, tail wagging the entire time.
When Steve’s cousin brings her girls over, Bailey patiently waits for them to drop crackers on the carpet.
Actually, she’s more interested in children’s toys, the downfall of just giving her garage sale finds.
Where was I?
OH! Right! The meme!
* Sitting on patios
* Screwing with people on the phone
* Taking care of the garden
* Pretty much anything soaked in butter
Five Hates (Can I tell you how hard it was just to choose five?! My backspace key is worn to a nub.)
* Losing touch with people that you want in your life/People who will “call you and we’ll get together!” but don’t.
* Breaking nails down so low that they bleed.
* Smell of burnt coffee
* Occasional lack of focus- HEY! WAZZAT?!
* Sixteenth year of Achilles tendinitis. Oh, sure, they could shoot me up with cortisone, but that may cause my tendon to RUPTURE…. because that sounds like more fun.