Italy Photos

Since Blogger kinda blows with the whole downloading photos thing, please go here to view my Italy photos as a slideshow, if you are interested. There are no wedding photos yet, but I promise I will get those up ASAP when I receive them.

From Germany, With Love

I am finally back, people. Did you miss me and my rantings?

The short version is this: My God I had an incredible time. I am changed. I am inspired. I am rested but exhausted. And I am now officially married to the most wonderful man ever put into existence and that, my friends, makes me ecstaticly, ridiculously happy.

I figured the only way I would be able to cover all this with any sort of coherent meaning would be to do it in shifts, although you will have to wait a couple more weeks for wedding photos since our guy, Domenico, is on Italy time. So in the meantime, we will have to make due with all the rest. Let me start with Germany.

As many of you know, I have a "German Family". Many many years ago, when I was but a wee embryo, my parents, who were living in Germany, got into a car accident. Their Bug collided with another Bug on the train tracks, and thus a beautiful friendship was born. A year after I was born, Rose gave birth to a daughter, Ruth, who was to become my pen pal from the age of 5. Until the trip, we had actually only hung out twice -- once at my pad in Venice when I took her and her then-boyfriend to see the freaks, and once at her pad in Germany, when they took me all over that beautiful place. I haven't seen her in nine years. Derek and I flew into Frankfurt in order to pay them a special visit before the wedding, and I got to meet her super adorable little boy, Tobias. To say I became attached would be an understatement. I mean.... just look at him:

Such happiness! Such inquisitiveness! Such affectionateness! In spite of his parents constantly correcting him as to my name, he insisted on calling me "Frau"-- woman. He cracked my shit up.

This is Schweinfurt, where Ruth and her family live. It is beautiful and charming and you could eat it with a spoon. We bought some Belgian chocolates here, and let's just say I am now completely spoilt by the beauty that is Belgian. I poo-poo on your Ghirardelli's.

Here is Ruth's hub and my hub, discussing manly things as we walk through cobblestone streets.
I'm super fancy with my camera angles sometimes. This is Rothenberg (or if you are German, Rottenberg). It is a medieval town, full of lots of medieval things.

Lots of the buildings have really cool things like a little nekkid man, shouting obscenities down from above an archway. Oh look, here's one now:

This is in front of the Crime and Punishment Museum, where we saw all sorts of medieval torture devices and techniques. So don't eff with me, man. I have been schooled in the ways of putting the hurtin' on people, medieval style.

See this dress? I bought it at Charlotte Russe in the Topanga Mall for like, $16. Get used to looking at it. I wore it all over Italy. Of course it was covered up here because it was kinda cold at the time.

This would be looking down on the town, where you can see the prevalent use of the architectural style known as "Early Super Cute".

This is at a church in Wurzburg, the beautiful little town where I was born.

I. Love. This. Man. And the background? Yes, it is real.

It was hard to leave my friends and little Tobi, but we promised we would get together with them again in the next year or so, hopefully at the Grand Canyon. Meanwhile, we had a plane to catch to Venice.....

Fritto Misto

I am a genius.

Last year, Valentine’s Day was hell. Since The Man and I usually prefer to celebrate the pooky lovefest session over the weekend to allow adequate sleep-innage to recover, the actual eve of Valentines I had made plans with Bunnie to attend a movie screening. OMG, NEVER. A-friggin-GAIN. It took me OVER TWO HOURS to get from Santa Monica to Century City (yes, you read that right, TWO HOURS), by which time we had missed the screening entirely and I was nearly in tears from being stuck in the car barely moving for so long and crammed in on all sides by cars and the only thing to do was go to the Century Towers Hotel and drink wine at the bar and feel underdressed. Traffic is just so bloody heinously awful around here on Valentines Day! I love that there are that many romantic people in the world, but Jebus, do you all have to be OUT IN YOUR CAR between 6:00 and 8:30 p.m. for the love of Caltrans????

So this year, I decided, heyall naw, Homey won’t play that. I think I would rather throw myself under a bus than sit in that hellaciousness again. But since we will be in Chico visiting Grammy, doing our lovefest over the weekend wasn’t an option either. And we would still have to suffer with the eleventy bajillion other people on the road whilst trying in vain to get home.

So a week before V-Day, I called up Fritto Misto which is conveniently close to our offices, and made a reservation for 6:00. I told Derek we needed to brush up on our Italian cuisine in preparation for our trip to Italy. I don’t know if he was buying it, but it sounds good, right?

I have to tell you what we had since I still kinda can’t even believe how good it was and I want to remember it always. It was one of those set Valentine’s Day Menu thingies, but it was very reasonable for all the food included, and you could still choose from a selection of salads and entrees. And I have eaten here before and knew it was good, but dang, that night it was sooooooo good, I’m getting into a lather over it as I type. Here is what we had:

Bottle of sparkling wine
Salad (Lovemuffin got the ceasar, I got the misto)
Bruschetta (loved it, though I have to say, the one I make at home is better)
Lobster ravioli with chardonnay lemon sauce (I know, it’s like I’m talking dirty to you, right?)
Lamb loin marinated 5-7 days in cabernet pesto sauce (sweet heavens above, so tender and full of flavor) served over a bed of spinach linguini
Muscat served with chocolate-dipped biscotti
Crème brulee (wasn’t on the V-day menu, but our gracious host was kind enough to accommodate my begging and whining and threw it in to shut me up)

So we sat and savored every bite while the rest of the world sat in their cars fuming and honking at each other and Derek patiently listened to me repeat over and over again what a friggin’ genius I am but I mean really, people. That was some serious geniosity going on there, right? It doesn’t take that much yoga savvy to pull off the ol’ Pat Oneself On The Back For Ruling Valentine’s Day pose.

Fritto Misto
601 Colorado Avenue
Santa Monica, CA 90401
(310) 458-2829

Life Is So Good

People, all my dreams are coming true. My heart is about to explode with joy and love. Let’s review:

1) I’m engaged to marry the greatest guy on the planet. Not only did he make and pack me breakfast, lunch and dinner the other morning because he knew I wouldn’t be home until late that night, but he included an “I Love You” note written on a piece of note paper that Bunnie gave me that features Stewie from Family Guy screaming his head off “Damn it to the bloody bowels of HELL!” There is just so much good stuff in that one little detail, where would I even begin?

2) I heard on the Kevin & Bean show this morning that ASIA IS BACK TOGETHER. ALL THE ORIGINAL MEMBERS. AND THEY ARE TOURING. I know, I’m sorry about the all-caps thing, but it’s freaking ASIA, BITCHES!!!! I know, I know -- dork, dork, dork. I’m a huge dork. But I love me some Asia. Even back in high school in ’87, when Asia was no longer cool, my big huge fantasy was one day getting to do a dance routine (I was on the dance team) for an assembly in front of the whole school where I would do a very performance art type jazz dance to the lesser known but still great Asia song “Time Again” where I would use those sticks-with-streamers thingies and angrily shake my hips from side to side on the drum parts, and the whole school would be amazed at my ferocity and see me for the hot babe that I was and henceforth, drama nerds like myself from all schools would be seen with more love and respect because of my Asia Dance of Extreme Bitchin’ness.

That never happened. And I hated high school. But that was my dream.

And they (Asia) were so cool in the interview this morning.

And they loved that they had a part in The 40-Year-Old Virgin.

And their show at the Canyon Club is sold out. How can a poor, Asia-loving cracker like myself get a hold of tickets? One can only dream.

3) Showgirls, the greatest god-awful movie of all time that we all know I love to bits, is coming out as a musical. Yes, it’s true. Can you handle the sheer joy of this? Can you believe how much God is smiling upon me? Can you just imagine being there, in Vegas, when such a miraculous spectacle unveils? I, for one, am stoked beyond all reason. Life is good. Oh, life is so good.

Berfday and Godbaby Extravaganza

Oh man, I love me some godbaby. She is just flat-out and hands-down the most adorable, happy, smiley, radiant little creature on the planet. But I'm not biased.

I held her, I played with her, I read to her, I listened to her views on Little Brown Nut Hare vs. Little Rabbit. I was hoping to read her the all-time children's classic Everybody Poops, but alas, it was not amongst her extensive collection. [Note to Godbaby-Mama: This is a must-read. So is Captain Underpants And The Perilous Plot of Professor Poopypants.]

I watched in awe as she sat on the floor and giggled in response to The Big Brown Dog constantly sniffing her, licking her head, nibbling at her diaper. She just simply was not fazed by him one bit, but he was sure fazed by her. I've never seen him so nervous before, and I realized he hadn't yet really been around someone that young, and a 9-month-old baby is quite akin to a very drunk person: they wobble, they teeter, they fall unexpectedly, they make strange noises. I think he was afraid her little drunk ass was going to fall over all the time, not to mention all the great smells coming out of her diaper. Forget butts -- diaper smell is THE SHIT, people!

Here he is, all like "Awwwwwwyeah, diaper booty gettin' in mah bed!":

The below photo is mildly deceiving since Babe also took quite a shine to the Young Juliette. She doesn't ordinarily display a particular fondness for persons under the age of 21 now that she is older and just can't be bothered. But she wanted to sit next to Juliette at all times. Not lick her, not sniff her, just sit beside her and look proud. It was so cute.

But in this photo, she seems to be saying "Oh heyall naw bitch, you ain't getting in this bed! You're cutting into naptime, punk!" And it's not even her bed -- it's actually Rufus' bed that he graciously shares with her when her own bed is just not deemed as being sufficient for Her Royal Pugness:


And here she is again, giving you the ol' stinkeye:

So I got sick the day before my berfday (WTF???) which really blew, but I still managed to have a great one anyway. Several adoring fans came over to oooh and aahhh the Darling Godbaby, but here are a couple of preliminary photos from Jillie until I get mine out of jail in the camera:

Here's me and MY FIANCÉ (squeeeeeeee! love saying that!) -- pigging out for a little pre-berfday celebration at Buca di Beppo in Encino. Man, I love that place. You walk in hungry, and you leave full for a week. And Bonus: it's within stumbling distance of our house.
But the real treat was having my precious friend in the house for four days, and remembering all over again how great she is, and how God was smiling on me the day I was placed next to her at that shark tank-- I mean law firm-- all those years ago. I love you, Jillie-pew:

Thank You

Thank you guys so much for the well wishes. So much love being thrown my way and it makes my heart swell up bigger than my person after a Buca di Beppo dinner. I love you guys. You compound my happiness.

Oh, and Derek got the ring back yesterday from the jewel place. They did a great job of reinforcing the prongs that were a little worn down after many years of wear, and reinforcing the band with more gold since it was worn so thin. It looks even more beautiful now if that's possible, and I don't have to worry about a prong giving up the fight and turning the diamond loose somewhere in my fro while I'm shampooing it.

It was a nice surprise to come home to late last night when I dragged my tired deep tissue-schooled butt home from a very long day and, amidst stealthily peeling off my clothes for a hasty bed-hop so as not to wake the sleeping Homeboy, saw my beautiful ring sitting there, back in its little box which he had left open on my vanity for full viewage. It made me gasp in delight all over again. Doesn’t he just rule?

J R's Diamonds & Jewelry
14522 Ventura Blvd. (just west of Van Nuys Blvd.)
Sherman Oaks, CA 91403
(818) 789-8303

White Trash A-Go-Go

In all the hoopla that has been my engagement, I neglected to tell the story of the white-trashiest house I have ever seen. Allow me to dispense with said story now.

Kristi and I were out walking the hounds in beautiful, cozy, diverse Chico. When I say diverse, I mean all over the map: You’ve got your college kids, your old-timers who have lived in Chico longer than God (i.e., Grammy), hippies, slackers, sportos, motorheads, geeks, sluts, pinheads, dweebies, wonkers, richies, they all think Chico is a righteous place (okay, sorry, had to go with the Ferris Bueller moment there).

Anyway, as newly soon-to-be-sisters-in-law, we were chatting away about all things deep and meaningful and pertinent when I was stopped dead in my tracks by the sight of this:

Holy crap! Now, don't get me wrong. I love me some mudflap girl. I have one on a wife beater that I wear out on nights I am feeling particularly sassy. I also have a very interesting pair of clear shoes that have the iconic symbol embedded right in the platform part of the shoe, courtesy of my adorable fiancé (man, that was fun to say -- fiancé, fiancé, fiancé) who has a wee bit of a shoe fetish. So those shoes don't see the light of day much. Okay, ever. But tell me, who actually has these anymore on anything other than an item that bespeaks some sense of irony or maybe costume jewelry? This is so old school trashy, I was struck speechless for a moment.

But then my eye took in the trashtastic glory of the rest of the yard. Somebody had taken it upon themselves to actually plant, in the ground, a big huge long row of SILK FLOWERS. Of all colors and varieties, but all silk, and all covered in a layer of dust. Planted. In the ground. Like we wouldn’t notice they weren’t real.

As we moved further along this display of tacky splendor, we noticed the backyard, which was in full view, had a garden gnome and a smattering of auto parts strewn about.

I half-expected Britney Spears to come trotting out and offer us some Cheetos. But alas, nobody came out. And we walked on, inspired and awed by what we had seen.

And speaking of inspired and awed, yesterday Kristi said the funniest thing to me that I have heard in perhaps a fortnight. She was complaining about her boss who has been, shall we say, mildly frustrating to deal with lately. "He's driving me to drink Arbor Mist every night," she lamented.

Oh. dear. God. How can you not love a girl who hits the Arbor Mist when the times are tough?

Something tells me I'm going to fit in just fine with this family.

I’m Engaged! I’m Engaged! I’m Engaged!

Yes, you read it right: Derek popped the question and (big surprise) -- I said yes. Actually it was more like YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! Want the full story? I’ll tell you how it went down just in case the Enquirer gets it wrong.

So we went to Chico this past Thursday to visit Derek’s Grammy. I know I’ve told you about her before -- sweet, feisty lady, nearing 102 years old, golfs like it’s going out of style, can whip up a mean peach cobbler, I could go on and on. I love the woman something fierce. Anyhoo, Derek and I went to lunch at his fave cheesesteak place which has now opened up a location in Chico. We stuffed our faces and decided to go for a walk in Bidwell Park to work off the stuffage. Bidwell Park is one of the largest municipal parks in the country and quite beautiful. We were meandering around on a trail that looked quite like this:
The park was deserted since it was a Friday, and we found ourselves wandering deeper into the foliage. It got deathly quiet. The squeals from the nearby swimming hole were now long gone.

Me: Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?

Derek: Heh heh.

(silence)

Me: No, seriously.

Derek: Actually, quite the opposite. I have something for you.

Me (confused, thinking): Is it a shank? Or is it that Tastycake thingy he saw me eyeballing at the cheesesteak place by the cash register?

Just about then we arrived at this beautiful little pond, all green and mossy with stones in it -- the sun glinting through the tree overhead just so. It was quite a sight.

Derek: Here, I want to give you something. (turning his back)

Me: Here it comes, he’s gonna cut me, or he’s gonna give me a tasty treat for being such a nice girlfriend. Either way, I better be prepared. Let’s see, how does that go? Over the teeth and past the gums, look out stomach here it---

Derek turned around and handed me a little box. Every girl knows what that little box is. It is THE box. My heart started pounding and my hands started to shake. Holy crap, that is THE box! I opened the box slowly and sitting in its little cushion was the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen in my life, swear to God and Jesus and all the saints. Like it was made for me. Just perfect.

Derek: It was Grammy’s engagement ring.

Me: (choking up)

He got down on one knee. In the dirt. And it was scruffy dirt too, not nice hard-packed dirt. Seriously dirty dirt. Normally a thing that Derek would avoid at all costs. He and dirt are not friends.

Derek: Punkin, will you marry me?

Me: YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, YES!

He slid the ring on my finger. And it fit perfectly. Then the real crying started. Was this really happening to me? I couldn't believe it.

I’ve never been much of a jewelry person, but I couldn’t believe how much sentimental feeling was wrapped up in this little ring. I couldn’t stop staring at it. So many loved ones had been touched by this ring -- an adored husband, children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, friends. And now the man who will be my husband was giving it to me. And the more I looked at it, the more it made me cry. Tears of joy. Tears of gratitude.

We hurried home to tell Grammy. She said she hopes we will have as many happy years as she had with her beloved husband. And I believe we definitely will.