The Arizona trip…..

(Sorry highlight people, but the vacation vote was 8 to 3 in favor of details and minutia. If that’s not your thing? Check back with me in a month. Maybe longer… it was a helluva trip!)

We started out at zero dead thirty.

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Yes, that’s 12 minutes after 2 in the morning…. not my finest hour. I’m a chronic insomniac and usually don’t fall asleep before 1:00, so you can imagine how pretty I was leaving for the airport.

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Delta did their best to make me feel special, but all I felt like was a zombie. (Probably looked like one too.) Did I mention I went for a slight trim before the trip and came back minus 10 inches of hair?

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It used to be halfway down my back, so on what planet is this a trim? No more ponytail  bad hair days for me. Anyway…

I’m one of those annoying fliers who has to sit by the window and gawk at our world from on high. It never ceases to amaze me…

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Soaring above big fluffy clouds…

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And little puffy clouds…

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And mountains that look like crumpled paper… it never gets old. Airplane magazines however, do. I have to say I never realized their target audience was bald people.

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Every other ad seemed to be about regrowing hair.

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Sure, my hair can go to the gym… just leave the rest of me home on the couch and we’ll be fine.

We landed in Atlanta, which is always a zoo…. and I had to laugh at this hotel that was right on the runway.

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Hell, I complain when I hear cars in the parking lot below my room… who needs a disembarking 747?

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I’ve never been out west before and was oddly fascinated with the patchwork topography.

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Crop circles? Or giant Pac Mans…?

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The mountains meeting the desert was pretty impressive.

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Phoenix? Not so much. Sorry, but I hate your airport. It’s not laid out well and the fact that your rental cars are miles away which force me to slog my giant stone filled luggage aboard a shuttle bus and sit like a stuffed sardine in cramped seats with a driver who takes pleasure in turning too tightly and seeing all his passengers flung from side to side is not my idea of a good time.

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But I did get a kick out of Arizona cowboys…

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Who apparently wear two hats at a time.

Driving out of Phoenix was a traffic nightmare and again, sorry Phoenix… but ugly. Brown, flat and boring. Though they did try to perk it up with some interesting highway rock art.

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The overpasses were painted as well…

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So kudos for the beautification attempt Phoenix. Leaving the city made me smile because I spotted my first cactus…

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I was giddy!

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For a Yankee girl like me, this is exotic stuff!

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There were veritable cactus forests springing up alongside the road. Squeeeeee!! This is what I think of when I envision the southwest.

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That, and scary badass road names.

All too soon the cactus disappeared and things turned brown again.

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But then…

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They started to turn red….

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And I knew we were getting close to Sedona.

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I’m baaaaaaack!

 

And you all are in trouble.

Or you could be… because besides being exhausted and buried in dirty laundry,  I’m buried in vacation photos. And that means you could soon be buried in vacation photos.

So my question is this:  would you prefer –

#1.  To be fully immersed in my normal day to day, minutia filled, travel posts?  (Including restaurants, food, cocktails in the pysch ward, funny road signs, elk poop, a cowboy with 2 hats, the lizard meet and greet, 59 whirlpool tub reflections, death spoon art, the mouse warrior, an amethyst penis, frozen fog, vicious Grand Canyon squirrels, etc.)

Or

#2.  Just the highlights.  (Scenic photos, a few videos and get over yourself River… no one really cares how you spent the last 2 weeks.)

Your choice.

 

 

And we’re off….

 

By the time you read this, the husband and I will be winging our way to Arizona for our long planned and much anticipated 35th wedding anniversary trip. (Yes, he snagged me young.)

It goes without saying there will be an outrageously long blog series of our adventures when I return. We’ll be there for 2 weeks and I plan on taking pictures of everything… so don’t say I didn’t warn you.

But for now?

A few photo scraps…

When you’re menopausal…  (if you are, I’m sorry. If you’re not there yet, hang on sister, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.) …people think it’s funny to give you Christmas gifts like this:

 

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#1 – It’s not.

#2 – Please stop.

I was also given this –

 

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I don’t know about you, but any scent that promises to instantly change my mood can bite me. I’m a relatively optimistic person already and don’t need essential oil to put me over the top.

Essential oil…  please!

Why is it essential? I’ve lived without it this long, I’m pretty sure I can continue to do so without consequences.

As for our anniversary, the trip is our gift to each other…. but I did manage to find the perfect card to give the husband on that very special day.

 

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Perfect.

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So, be well my friends….

I may drop in from time to time but doubt I’ll be posting.

 

Proof positive you can fry anything?

 

The Macaroni and Cheese Bites we had as an appetizer the other day.

I wanted to hate them…

 

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But damn it, they were great.

 

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I know!

But they were cheesy, and oohey, and gooey and… damn it!

Great.

What made it even worse was serving the stupid things with a little tub of melted herb cheese sauce for dipping.

 

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I know!

Fried mac and cheese, dipped in cheese.

Double damn it!

We’re all doomed.

 

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You know you want one.

 

But we’re the ones who were  cursed by the Lord of Crap  lucky enough to receive a poop drone for Christmas.

 

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I can see you seething….. green with envy.

(Or is it brown in this case?)

 

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Because who hasn’t dreamed of holding a levitating pile of poop in the palm of their hand?

(Okay everyone, including me. But admit it… you’re wondering how utterly horrible truly wonderful it could be.)

Eager to  heave it in the trash  get started, I searched for directions.

 

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There weren’t many… I mean heck, how complicated can poop be?

 

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I admit it was a little disconcerting to have a pile of poop watch me blog.

 

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Especially when it started glowing red.

(Red poop is usually not a good thing…. or so I’ve been told.)

After a short charge, it was ready for a test flight.

And Holy Hell!

That poop can really go.

I was expecting a quiet little puff of air and some marginal movement….

 

 

But that little sucker really takes flight.

And it’s not exactly quiet either…

 

 

Sadly… you can’t control it. The poop has a mind of it’s own.

Which is too bad, because the possible household applications of flying poop are limitless.

Annoying door to door salesmen? Send the drone to answer that incessant knocking.

Unexpected mother in law visit? Program the drone to buzz behind her ear and get twisted in her blue hair as she tells you the proper way to cook her son’s meals.

Neighbor’s dog keeps defecating in your flower bed? When the flying poop rises up behind him he’ll have a heart attack. Problem solved.

Get yours today while supplies last.

Tell ’em River sent you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Out with the old, in with the….

 

Yeah, whatever.

I’m not big on the retrospective “best of  (insert year) ” posts. And I’d never bore you with all the New Year’s resolutions I plan to break. (or most likely, have already broken.)  Don’t “tag” me with the 20 questions game, I won’t play.  Throwback Thursday, What The Hell Wednesday and Seriously, Who Cares Saturday are not my thing. That doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy reading yours.. ( well… I might not, but if it’s Saturday you won’t care. And that’s a beautiful thing.)

I’ve always marched to the beat of my own drum.. (and yes, the occasional Mariachi Band. But only if the margaritas are stellar.)  …so you’re more apt to find a blog about flying poop than profound thoughts on the coming New Year on my page this week.

 

 

But I did want to take a minute to say thank you.

Thank you for reading, for following, for laughing and most of all? Thank you for making me feel welcome in the few months that I’ve been here. I’ve been blogging for longer than I care to remember and have had a lot of sites die from underneath me. While I sincerely hope that was poor management or low readership numbers and not the direct result of my setting up shop there…. (Damn. Did I really kill them all? If so, let me apologize in advance for dooming this wonderful site to a fiery end.) … you lot have made me feel welcome at WordPress, and for that I’m grateful.

So here’s to another year of crazy.

Of finding the ridiculous and sharing it.

Another year of irony.

Of adventure.

And of friendship.

Most definitely of that.

 

 

Thanks for being my tribe.

 

 

The after Christmas Christmas… and flying poop.

 

Saturday night found us at our friend’s house… she of the annual weirdo Xmas tree.

 

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By the time we arrived, this year’s forest had sprouted a cat.

 

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There was a small Seussian tree in the dining room…

 

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And shrub Santas by her back door.

 

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The Santas made me smile..

 

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The chipped paint on the steps made me twitch.  (Yes, I literally twitched. The husband had to ask if I was alright.)  **Note to self – buy friend a gallon of paint for her birthday next month**

We drank, had dinner, drank, and exchanged gifts a week late.

 

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Naturally, the exchange made us laugh.

One of my gifts to her is on the left. A crazy lace agate pendant…

 

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One of her gifts to me? On the right….. a crazy lace agate pendant.

This is what happens when you know your friends too well.

And if that wasn’t bad enough?

I gave her husband the new Game of Thrones book…..

 

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Which she then gave to me.

(This was probably funnier after the 3 margaritas and 1 raspberry martini I had, but you get the idea.)

And then….

Then my husband opened one of his gifts.

And I almost fell off the chair.

Remember my recent blog about poop products?

Oh, yes…

 

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We are now the envy of our neighbors and have a Hovering Poop drone of our very own.

 

 

Don’t be jealous.

You know there will be a blog totally devoted to this very soon, and I will share the joy.

Because really.

How can I not?

 

 

Do you have any of those friends?

You know the ones….

They love toilet humor and inappropriate bodily function noises?

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The husband has one he grew up with, and every Christmas he’s the recipient of our vulgar gag gift of the year.

2018 brought a two-fer, purchased at our local Hallmark store. Apparently they don’t just sell sappy cards anymore.

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Gross. And vulgar…. I agree.

But the tradition must be upheld.

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I often wonder what he does with these ridiculous gifts…

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( Is there a #2 After Genital Contact Hand Sanitizer? One that doesn’t quite kill all the germs? I shudder at the thought. )

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Really?

Now that’s got me curious….

What do you suppose they think innocence smells like?

We braved the shopping hordes.

 

And went in search of some after Christmas bargains.

Even when not feeling quite up to par, my reaction is :

 

 

While the husband’s is more :

 

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We found a few things, but come on!  20% – 30% sales?

(That’s not enough to get me out of my pajamas and make me comb my hair.)

But I did manage to pick up this little jewel for my desk –

 

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Which…. for some reason, the husband did not find at all amusing.

We had lunch at a place I’ve been meaning to try for years.

 

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But were disappointed to find the whole front section had been sold to another business and the restaurant was now relegated to a small space that used to be the bar.

 

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Which would have been okay, had I been feeling well enough to drink.

 

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Shocking, I know.

But it happens.

 

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Thankfully, the food was good.

French Onion Soup…

 

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And a marvelous baked stuffed haddock with scallops, shrimp and Newburg sauce, roasted fingerling potatoes and asparagus with lemon butter.

While signs at the bar teased me about alcohol…

 

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I noticed some of the drinking patrons looked a little off.

 

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And decided staying sober might be the wise choice after all…..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Better late than never….

The wonderful thing about being sick at Christmas is that I got an extra week until our annual gift exchange party with friends. And since the husband had been sick the week before me, I really needed the extra time.

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Because we all know the man cold is far more severe than anything women experience. When he got sick? I cooked and cleaned and took care of him. When I got sick? I cooked and cleaned and took care of myself..  funny how that works.

So we’re having our gift exchange party tonight and I just finished wrapping. And damn, if there’s anyone who can make a bigger mess putting paper and ribbons on boxes, I don’t want to meet them.

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When I wrap? I spread…

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And it floats from table to chair to floor to counter to stove and out into the hall.  Naturally, everything  (including me)  is covered in glitter. We’ll be picking that crap out of our pork chops for months to come….

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Most of the presents turned out well.

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(Yes, those are wine bottles… on a tray… on top of my album collection… in my office. Don’t judge. There’s not a liquor cabinet built that can hold my ever expanding stash.)

And now, a word.

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Or to be more exact, a lot of very colorful words every time I tried to peel that little paper backing to reveal the sticky part of a bow.

May I just say… WTF?

It’s like my Band Aid nightmare all over again…. except there’s no blood, and I’m not doing it one handed. Okay, it’s nothing like the Band Aids… but it’s still annoying as hell and the people that produce those things without leaving a pull tab or a flipped corner to grab onto need to suffer some serious consequences.

Drawn and quartered? Maybe…

Flayed alive? Perhaps…

Locked in an elevator with a non stop loop of Justin Bieber’s greatest hits blasting through the speakers? Now we’re talking!

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