Time to relax

Well hello there, Desert Sanctuary...

I'll see you tonight.
(Oh, and wear that little dress I bought you.)

Kenny's first text of the morning:

Maybe it's me, but somethings are better left unshared. Things like:

"Big laughs...just accidentally yanked out my dad's catheter."

(Kenny should take note.)

A Turtle

Jill fact #1: I’ve got short legs. I don’t love this, but it’s okay. I’ve long ago accepted the fact that I could never be a runway model or an Olympic sprinter. And again, it’s okay. After all, models can’t eat and beauty fades and, well, the tortoise ultimately won the race, right?

So, Kenny and I have joined a co-ed softball team. Actually, I didn’t so much join the team as much as I was just signed up for it without my consent. (Thanks, Elise.)

Jill fact #2: team sports terrify me. Ever since I was mocked and humiliated during a game of kick ball in the fourth grade, I just haven’t exerted myself in that arena and obviously have no skills to show for it in my adulthood. While I’m active and somewhat coordinated, I prefer doing things where I am only accountable to me and I’d much rather do such things without an audience. (Even while snowboarding – something I can do reasonably well –, I still prefer to hang out near the rear of the pack.) I digress.

Last night was our first game. I played left center field (I think?), fielded a few balls, and even managed to avoid striking out. True, my hits never made it past the pitcher, and true, I never made it to first base, but I don’t think I made a total fool of myself (excluding the moment when I opted out of catching that fly ball headed right toward me).

So...yeah. I felt pretty good about it all. And, surprisingly, I even had fun.

Kenny called me at lunch today to rehash the game (which we lost by the way, but not terribly). In passing, he suggested I "work" on my sprints.

“Really? Do I look as slow as I feel?” I asked.

Silence. “I’m just saying that maybe you could benefit from some practice.”

Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just decorate my shirt to resemble a tortoise shell. It sounds like Kenny needs to be reminded that the slow and steady win the race.

(Oh - happy Friday!)

Party like you're 30

Email Correspondence: June 4, 2009:

Elise: "What are the plans this weekend? We want to celebrate Kenny?!" (Kenny was turning the big 3-0 that weekend)

Me: Ummmm. I'm planning on apologizing all weekend for being a lame wife for NOT planning anything. Seriously nothing. The whole thing stressed me out and I gave up."

Elise: What?! Well, let's have a party! We'll throw it here.

And because Elise is awesome and because she's one of the very few people with whom I feel comfortable enough to actually accept such a kind offer, we threw a party. Last minute. I solicited Amelia, Elise, and Nicole in my mass texting efforts and ordered a bunch of pizza and we threw a party. And despite only getting 1.5 days' notice a bunch of people showed up to celebrate my favorite 30-year old. And it was awesome.

Amelia and Mark Brooke set up an impromptu photo booth in the dining room. I'm loving the photos and only wish everyone who came had taken a turn posing for the camera. (Amelia and Mark didn't edit these photos - I did...kinda - so make sure to check out their blogs for some truly fantastic photography.)

Ian & Ashlyn (they're engaged, folks) started the party off. I think I have more pictures of Ian than anyone else that night.

DeAnne and Mark (aka Kenny's parents)
Kristyn, Henry, and Jill (with my framing)
Henry (and Jill...and me)
Jill and Jill...we wanted to see what it would look like if I were the tall one.
Amelia getting the booth all set up.
Freddy (one of Kenny's best friends since he was little), his wife Mandy, Me, and Kenny. (Yes, Freddy is licking Kenny's face. This was the only one suitable for a public blog.)

Preggos: Candice, Candice, Mandy
Candice and Mandy
Mark and Candice
Freddy and Mandy
Steve and Brit (I can't get pictures to load, but I have some great ones of Steve during the dart war looking simultaneously terrified and ecstatic. It's awesome.)


Jeff...and some sort of carbonated beverage.
Skyler and Ian
Nicole, Candice, Amelia
Ian

Me and Elise at the end of the night. I was sooo tired.
Skyler and Elise gave Kenny these imported, kinda dangerous, Nerf-like darts for Christmas after he became obsessed with their set. After a few hours of safe and civilized visiting, the darts came out and the women huddled together for protection while the boys waged war. I guarded the food in the kitchen. (If you were present for the first dart war around Thanksgiving, you'll remember why this is necessary. Cranberry cream pie and darts don't mix.) Don't the boys look like they're having fun? I wish I had a shot of the girls. I especially liked when one guy tried to use his pregnant wife as a shield.

Elise, Skyler, and Kenny take aim at Ian (for the camera)

Hudd and I shutting down the booth. I think I'm either exhausted at this point or was trying for my best "deer-in-the-headlights" look.

Thank Yous: Thank you DeAnne for the drinks and for birthing my favorite person 30 years ago, Skyler and Elise for being insane/awesome in welcoming all us into your home, Amelia and Mark for the photo booth, and THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING & PARTYING! I love you all. Kenny does, too.

Party Pics are coming Soon

are you ready?

A Perfect Anniversary

Last weekend was our sixth wedding anniversary.  The weekend before was Kenny's 30th birthday.  Both weekends were wonderful, but since I don't yet have pictures yet of Kenny's last-minute-but-still-awesome-party, here's some photos of our anniversary.  It pretty much was the perfect weekend...

It started Friday night with a trip with friends to the LACMA to watch Le Cercle Rouge, a French crime film from the 70's (which was rad) followed by a late night dinner at Mel's.  (My pictures from this night are kind of horrible and blurry, but oh well.)

Erin, Kenny, and Adam.  Erin works at LACMA; how cool is that?

Elise and me and a whole bunch of street lamps.
The crew, post movie, pre dinner.  Very Hungry.

The next morning Kenny and I decided to head to Palm Springs so that we might do absolutely nothing (except read, nap, swim -  far away from the June-gloom that's been suffocating us in Orange County).  The fact that we stayed at this super private, very retro 50s, boutique hotel (The Horizon Hotel) was just icing on the cake.  Also, the fact that the hotel had eight guests total- adults only - was awesome, as was the little badminton set up and the private outdoor showers.  I LOVED it.  We left only once to get dinner (and to stock up on fruit and Klondike Bars for our mini fridge).

View from our patio: day
View from our patio: night. 
Some pool shots.  The weather was sunny and a comfortable 80-90 degrees.  


There were butterflies everywhere including on my knee.  I wasn't busy, so I let it hang out for a while.

Kenny's hair was in constant transition from bed-head to soaking wet to crazy, half-dried fro all weekend.  I loved it.
favorite photo...

I also took Monday off and we went to Disney Land one more time before our passes are blocked for the summer.  More than the rides, I just needed a Dole Whip Float from the bar at the Tikki Room.  Disney Land was followed by a dinner and a movie and an early bedtime.  Like I said: the weekend was PERFECT.

Kenny, thank you for a marvelous weekend and six wonderful years.  I love you.

That's a Dorcus

In honor of casual Friday, I thought I'd take a moment to pay my due respect to the originator of the Hawaiian shirt/dress pant combo: The Dorcus Company.

Founder, Barney Dorcus, had this to say about his early products: “I have a dream. I dream I take off my shirt at the end of the day and the armpits ain’t hanging out in smokin’ strings from my BO, that’s what I dream.”

Thanks to this eloquent and ambitious man and his company of sweat-proof suits and tacky casual-wear, I can look forward to Friday business meetings that resemble luaus.

In perusing the Dorcus archives I came across these winning looks:

For the guy bent on dressing like his wife...and on having a smaller waste than her. Because every man should have a man-skirt for those special occasions... and for dance-offs: Okay, I actually kinda like this last look...as long as it doesn't appear on my middle aged co-workers on Casual Friday.

Happy Friday!