Deuces

Just before our European Christmas vacation I took 2 of the kids to the vet for some routine maintenance.  Penny needed immunizations, and Trouble, my very troublesome cat, needed his asthma medication. I have been to Dr. Park's office so many times for such needs and I always dread the wait.  The office is small, old and smells of some form of alcohol used to disguise the number of animals that urinate on the floor somewhere. It might sound like Hell to you, but despite it not being the most attractive place, it is affordable and my animals ALWAYS leave in better condition than in which they came.  I've said it before and I'll say it again that Dr. P. doesn't say too much.  His broken Korean-English always leaves me trying to figure out what he said, but his kind eyes tell me that he really cares about my kids. But Dr. P said something the other day that was completely dishonest. He said "what a beautiful cat". He was speaking about my boy Trouble...

As we pulled into the city streets of Budapest our eyes widened with glee.  We passed the Danube river, which is wide and expansive and glimmers off the lights that reflect onto its waters.  Tonight we will cruise down the Danube river, which is the 2nd largest river in Europe.  I never really knew Budapest was in the country of Hungary- I just thought it was its own tiny country that existed somewhere in the great wide world.  And the difference between Budapest and Bucharest meant nothing to me (although they are about a bigillion miles apart). Today is Christmas day here and I feel there is no where else I would rather be.   Of course, the holidays without family might seem strange, but I am delighting in this opportunity to enjoy the quiet time I have sharing a beautiful holiday with my husband and not having to share it with anyone else, for just this one year.  Selfish as it may seem... we deserve this. Next year we will have a li...

We arrived into Prague today and we're looking forward to the city tours we have planned for tomorrow.  I will admit, however, that when we pulled in, it looked like we had arrived into Transylvania.  Eastern Europe is definitely a world away from our (usually) sunny and bright home in California!  Snow surrounds us on all sides and it is beautiful, the buildings are of a Gothic architecture which encapsulate the small roadways that we rode in on. The food is.... strange... and of course when it is all written in Czech it is hard to discern what is, and what is not, wrapped in some type of sausage.  And is that sausage cooked?  We have no idea.  Lloyd's eyes brightened when he saw a McDonald's, but so far we haven't had to make an emergency stop to any 'American' places. We are having a funny experience communicating with the locals, most of whom don't seem to know any English.  As we kindly say "Thank You" to those that serve us, their respons...

Happy Birthday, Best Friend. Maria & I, Yosemite, 1996 Another year older and wiser and yet you are exactly the same. When we were kids we never talked about being 30 or, Heaven forbid, any older than 30.  What did we talk about? Boys.  Chorus.  Peerleading. Hair. Aquanet.  Clothes. Skinny girls who we envied. How our dads were so strict.  Classes.  All those pince classes... Then we talked about almost all the same things in high school as we browsed the thrift stores, traded in our maroon lipstick which was never our shade- what were we thinking? and wore overalls, like, every single day. On more than one occasion we had crushes on boys who were friends and we thought it was so convenient.  On more than one occasion we had a crush (at different times) on the same boy.  Can I remind you on a blog?  No.  We can discuss in person. =)  But let me jar your memory just a little.  That one from juni...

My dad taught me how to tell time. He also taught me my multiplication table.  I was better at the multiples than at the time-telling. To this day, I will glance at a clock, blink twice, and interpret the time.  It takes me a half-moment longer than anyone else, it seems, to read that clock, which is a little awkward at my age. Like most small children, I learned how to count money quickly.  But knowing my coins is what gave me a lot of trouble as my father and I sat at the kitchen table. He drew pictures of clocks, all with different times.  And he was ever-so -patient with me as I did my very best to understand why there were 12 digits, why there were 2 hands- "why, daddy, why?" And I am sure he sighed with regret when he took on the task of explaining what a quarter hour was.  I distinctly remember glowing with pride when I understood that a quarter hour MUST mean 25 minutes!  Because, of course, a quarter equals 25!! He really, really, real...

There's a can in my van. It's turkey and giblets. It's wet cat food, but not for my cat. It's not for me, either. It's for the stray cat or dog that crosses my path on any given day. The animal that is lost, sick, homeless and sad. I can't catch the strays- it's pretty hard.  They are slippery little suckers. But if I see an animal wandering the streets with heavy eyes, I will crack the can open and leave it on the pavement. .49 cents, on sale. Not a bad price to give an animal a meal to tide it over while it looks for its way back home, or way into any home.

I once loved a Matt.  I think so anyway. Not the one from juior high who I was majorly crushing on, but the Matt that I met at the tender age of 21. I was with Maria at our Wednesday night haunt, "Godfather's".  This is a decade ago before that place turned into a total disaster.  I swear there weren't homeboys there when we used to go. At 21 I was skinny, and of course now that I'm no longer a size 7 I totally need to let everyone know that for a year I was.  I didn't have crows feet when I smiled at 21, also something I think you need to know to set the stage. And there he was. I wouldn't have noticed Matt, but he and his friend sent a round of Bud Lights to Maria and I.  We smiled.  Maria had a cute, bashful smile- the one she's always had that made boys swoon.  I am certain I wore my desperate smile.  The one that says, "WHO, ME?? ME? ME?  OVER HERE, OVER HERE, OVER HERE!!". Way to play hard-to-get, Cambria. And that...

Do you know what a Ford Falcon looks like?  Don't ask me what year... how should I know?  I am not one of those car people who can identify the difference between a BMW and a Honda Civic, let alone know the year.  In fact, a Lexus looks just like a Kia to me, which works really well for my pocketbook and insurance rates. But below is a picture of a Falcon with flames on it.  Not THEE Falcon with Flames, but a generic one I found online. THEE Falcon with flames belonged to Elena.  The license plate frame read "Who Said Girls Can't Drive Hot Rods?" I met Elena in my early 20's and she and I, along with Ebony, Sarah and a slew of others were regulars together on the Inland Empire Circuit.  The IE Circuit, which we referred to as "Tour De I.E." included such dive bars and clubs as: Margaritaville, Twins, Godfather's and "'The 'Brow".  Elena could have easily been labeled as a bit scary.  Covered in tattoos, piercings and with long...