Friday. Schedule. Strategy. Bathroom Stall Silence.

In Disneyland, I like to visit the restrooms. I wait in a long, hot sweaty line with other desperate women. When it is my turn, I race into the stall, lock the door and am overwhelmed by the sense of peace I feel in my 2 by 3 foot space.

As long as I remain in that stall, with the door firmly locked, it is all mine. No one can cut me off, step on my toes, give me a sideways disapproving glance or ask me for ice cream. Nope. I am calm, quiet and as alone as one can ever be at a theme park.

Which brings me to, well, here we are, another Friday. There is a full weekend ahead with lots of fun and activities. The schedule is tight, though, and it won't feel like a lazy, old weekend, that's for sure.

Our schedule is our guide book around here. I constantly need to check what our next strategic move will be: can I drive to softball, race to baseball and watch a few innings, fly over the hill to carpool pick up and be back in time to softball? How can I split my schedule so that I can be in at least 2 places at once?

It used to be that I looked forward to the weekend. I wanted to sleep in, be lazy, hang out and get a few things done around the house. Now I rest up the rest of the week so that I have a shot at surviving weekends.

It's funny how life is, here I am on Friday, knowing that tomorrow, there will be moments that I'll wish that I could lock myself in a bathroom stall and just breathe.

What Is It About Men Liking Women In High Heels? Bad Purchases, Bad Shoes

Do men like women in high heels so that they can just knock us to the ground and drag us along back to the cave more easily?

Seriously, my closet is full of shoes that I will probably never wear again, that is if I actually ever wore some of them in the first place.

Do you purge? Save them for your daughters? Take Advil and three shots of tequila so that you can dull the pain and wear them anyway?

Is anyone out there spring cleaning? I'm saying "Ugh, in my Uggs." today. I hate to part with anything that I got a good deal on even if I'm never going to use it.

Thank You Friends and Family! Our Michigan Trip Part One

There's nothing like a trip to the Midwest that makes you long for a spin class and a trip to the farmer's market. Ruth asked on the way home from the airport, "Why do we have better vegetables in California?"

Yes, even the girls were feeling the yearning for green vegetables. Ruth asked for some beet juice. Go figure.

We had a great time, and I'm including some shots to let you see what our little trip was like:

The grandkids visiting Great Grandma Smith.
The required trip to Kilwin's Chocolates in Ann Arbor. My dad told the salesperson I was engaged in that shop window 19 years ago. She said, "That's very interesting." Her tone said, "Now why would someone do that?" Long, romantic story.
Dinner at the Blue Nile. Birk declared Ethiopian her new favorite food.
Greenfield Village with cousin Maddie.

Mamma Mia with Godmomma Wendy at the Fisher Theater.

Girls on a plane!
Nana on the way to the airport in style!

Memory Lane in Photos

Here are some photos of Michigan memories:

1. My childhood home, from the time I was 8 until at least 20...
2. I worked as a car hop here for 13 years! The family business.
3. My little brother. Always playing hockey and going to tournaments. I guess I was destined to marry a Canadian.
4. My little sister on the front porch with our cats. We always had a lot of barn cats. It looks like Twinkle Toes, but she'd be pretty old if that's her.

Detroit Here We Come!

We leave the house and my husband arrives as we leave. That is the reality with split spring breaks. The girls and I are headed to the Motor City. Motown!

Stay tuned for some Detroit updates. We are going to see Mamma Mia and possibly visit Greenfield Village or the Detroit Institute of Arts and have Christmas in April at Frankenmeuth.

I Love You, Lady With The Purple Paisley Suitcases

Yesterday, I was out shopping in a desperate way for one more table to match my patio set. This is sometimes what happens when you buy your patio furniture from Ross. I love the store, but you know if you are a Ross/Marshalls/TJMaxx shopper, you better buy it when you see it or forget about it.

A couple of months ago I bought four chairs and a little table. Last week, when actually trying the set out for the first time, I realized that I needed one more little table. Of course, when you are sipping wine and having snacks, you need room for it all. This meant the county wide search of all of the Ross stores was on.

On my third and last stop, I spied the matching table. Success! While waiting in line to swipe my visa, a very blond lady in front of me was purchasing two suitcases that were big enough to fit all three of my kids and our dog in.

Not only were these the biggest suitcases I've seen this side of a steamer trunk, they were the brightest paisley print of purple and hot pink that you can imagine. The woman was kind and friendly. You could tell she was just a little ray of sunshine that shared her warmth with everyone around her.

We are lucky people in this world to have these pockets of human kindness. There are so many scrooges out there that this Earth Angel gave enough light to blind one of them at least.

When Am I Too Old For This? Vomit, Taxi Cabs and Hotel Lobby Bathrooms

Another night of silly costumes, dancing, and bidding. Just when the night was winding down for some, for our crew, it was just beginning.

Ahhhhh, but I've learned my lesson. There are cameras everywhere. There are people and conversations that you NEED to remember in the morning. At my age, anything that I NEED to remember at all is in danger.

Speaking of memories, for more years than I can remember, we have all booked a room at a local hotel with awesome views of the San Francisco Bay. We've worn costumes when most of the guests did not. We pre-party--this year with a nice bottle of Dom, AND, we post party.

There are infamous years. Wild limo rides, people stripping on stage, strangely acquired items that need to be returned on Monday, and stories, comments and conversations that you can never erase from the mind.

This year, we held it together pretty well. No crazy stuff, the wives left the husbands behind and took off for the comfort of a warm, cozy bed. We took a 3 AM cab back to our hotel, I climbed out of the car, and the hem of my skirt was wet! My friend said, "I thought I smelled something in that cab."

I touched the hem of my skirt, sniffed my hand, and almost passed out from the puke smell. There is nothing like human bile to make a person's own stomach turn. Luckily, it was an outer scarf of a skirt. I took it, and my long shawl off right away, right there in the hotel lobby.

I headed to the rest room to wash my nasty hands. Well, what do you think I found there? Two out of the three sinks were a red vomit wasteland. It looked like a crime scene. Holy Toledo. I tried to use the most sanitary looking sink, but it was out of soap. I had to totter over the chunks of vomit, but was thinking the soap was worth it.

I told the front desk that their restrooms needed immediate attention. The guy said, "Well, it is a Friday night, and the bar just closed." Oh, that explains it. I'm so old and out of it.

We all headed to our separate rooms. Being 3:30ish, I dropped my soiled shawl and skirt in the hallway, stepped in the room and removed my under skirt and dropped it in the hall as well with my shoes. My plan was to get the plastic laundry bag and stuff those puppies in.

First, I needed a shower. I couldn't imagine the nice, pukey germs I had been in close quarters with, so I took a shower. Feeling much better, I put my comfy jammies on and went back to the door to get my nasty off casts.

Gone!

Hmmmmmm. Not that I want them back, but isn't that the strangest thing?