30 years from now every male in a Sun City retirement village will have to wear a GPS necklace to make the journey from their Thursday afternoon Euchre club to the dining hall in time for dinner.

What man doesn’t love  a gadget ? So if they can have a gadget that tells them (in a female voice) where to go turn by turn its a win win. They don’t give another thought to how they are retraining their brain to be directionally dysfunctional. They will begin drooling over every new  and improved model they get a news flash on.

In my family it seems the more complicated the object, the more esteem it is held in. In 2004 my husband had the sales guy from the local electronics store come train him and install our new all in one remote which operated a whole cabinets worth of audio-visual equipment. The thing was lovely. You would have thought it was a magician in a box the way all of the male visitors to our household were captivated by it’s sleek design and seamless operation.

Bad Baby broke the remote

That was until one of the children pushed one wrong button in the sequence and there was no coming back from the remote hell it sent us to. Many a family feud was sparked by that remote and we learned an important lesson....if it requires one on one in home training to turn on my television, it is something I can live without.
 
On our recent trip to Austin we rented several cars. My husband travels a lot and earned his way to a free week from Hertz. He never leaves the parking lot without the Never Lost system. I rent my own vehicle for this trip, equipped with a trusty map and the Frequently Lost (or at least turned around) System.

We approach travel from very different perspectives. He’s usually on business. You land in your target city’s airport, pick up your car, have no idea how to get around. The GPS navigational systems allows you to plug in your destination’s address and you’re off to close the deal, viola, as simple as that. He only stays as long as the task takes and then he’s out of there.

When I travel I’m usually there for a longer stay, maybe a combination business/pleasure type of trip. I’ll do research on what to see, where to stay, where to eat, etc. I’ll read consumer reviews, make notes and click on maps for all the things that have piqued my interest. So when I arrive I already have a vague outline in my head of where things are.

I don’t have a GPS in my own car. When I rent a car I always shop around for the best deal and I hesitate to spend the extra money for the navigation system. There are times I wish I had one, like when you’re trying to see addresses on unfamiliar buildings or homes. I’ll fully admit the little devils can increase efficiency, which is important to me.

Figuring out what route to take on a road trip is like completing a puzzle, sort of a road Suduko. Sure I get turned around every now and then. I occasionally pass my exit, pass my destination or head out the wrong way. In finding the method of correcting myself I often learn things about the area I might not have known. Like the location of that hole in the wall taco stand. I learn alternate routes and develop my cache of data about my target area and into the vault it goes, to reside there until I need to recall it.

I like to think of it as exploration, not just getting from point A to point B. In the end I think you get a much better lay of the land. Not that being lost isn’t frustrating. I also don’t really like to ask for directions. According to most Austin residents, when ever I asked how long will this take the standard answer was, “about 20 minutes”. I found that not to be true frequently on my travels around that place.

I think the experiment of having one car with it, and one car without proves my theory that relying on a navigation system satisfies the need for instant gratification, but it also makes us lazy and eventually directionally challenged. By the end of the week I had a competent grasp on how to get around between Lake Travis, Austin and my hotel.

Who knows how much knowledge sunk into my husbands head, because he continued to drive around with that annoying directional bitch telling him every little thing, even though he had gone to the same Home Depot 4 times that week.

Men. Who can understand them?

We just happened to be visiting Austin in December. It wasn't until we strolled the different downtown districts (6th Street, Warehouse district, Congress, Lamar) that we came to realize we were there during the valley season (as opposed to peak).

I wouldn't go as far to say that they all but rolled up the sidewalks, but it was a bit lonely at times. As lonely as one can be when spending time with your large, extended family. My point is we didn't get the full Austin experience of their entertainment district because the week between Christmas and New Years is a very popular time for the residents to vacate elsewhere.

Being one of the few tourists enjoying the warm weather (the Texans thought we were crazy to be excited about 50 degrees) made it easy to get dinner reservations anywhere we wanted. Upon the recommendation of my happy Texan friend Stiletto Mom we found our dinner spot for the night. Moonshine Patio Bar & Grill on Red River Street is housed in a building that is part of the historical Waterloo Compound, one of Austin's oldest groupings of commercial buildings.

The patio looked like a perfect outdoor spot, enclosed, with festive lights and firelplaces. Unfortunately they weren't seating outside that day (probably to avoid staff rebellion against cold working conditions). So our next idea was to check out the bar as we had read about several concoctions they are known for.

Inside the lighting was just right and and the rough light limestone walls were a great contrast to the gleaming wood bar. We got started right away with a Cucumber Cosmo Martini ($7) and Harvest Moon Tea ($7), some of the house specialties. That Harvest Moon Tea was a stealth glass of goodness. The kind that could divest you of your panties if you weren't careful (and you wouldn't even know it). Very sneaky indeed!

Tres amigos enjoying the scene

We were hitting our stride when they led us back to an interior room to be seated. We were all hungry so we got right down to business. We got the party started with Beer Battered Asparagus with Buttermilk Ranch and some calamari. I returned from a quick time away from the table to find the tasty treats to be eaten beyond the photo op stage so you'll have to take my word for it, it was good.

The staff was freindly and competant, easily picking up our cues on speed of service. We were a decisive bunch that night and they kept things moving without rushing us. A good time was had by all evidenced by the fact we actually managed to all complete our meal and cash out without anyone straying from the table.

Jalapeno Hanger Steak with Scallion Butter

We dug into our entrees and we all agreed that mine was an taste bud delighting Extravaganza. I love a well balanced looking meal, cooked perfectly by someone other than me. The smaller servings of veggies that accompanied everyone's meal just fulfilled that desire for variety, to keep things from getting boring.

Horseradish Crusted Salmon was very tasty

A big hit with our crowd that night was the Moonshine Macaroni & Cheese. This dish was one hot mess of creamy goodness. My daughter was delighted with her plain kid style bowl while the rest of us got the full monty with the jazzed up edition that included some green spicy goodies mixed in. It was quite unique, maybe the secret ingredient has something to do with the moonshine?

White Chocolate Bread Pudding with raisins, pecans & Bourbon Sauce

Par for the course, a fight just about broke out seeing who could be the quick draw on the dessert. They didn't listen when I recommended we order a Skillet Apple Pie or the Fudge Stout Brownie with Chocolate Malt Ball Ice Cream also. We came out of there with one chipped finger nail so I can't complain.

Next time we are in Austin we are going to be returning to Moonshine, especially to enjoy the patio. I've since read that the brunch there is outstanding starting out with $3.50 Mimosas and Bloody Mary's. Not to mention all the other menu items we didn't have a chance to try.

By the way you're going to be brave enough to try the moonshine. It will remain a mystery if we made good on the threat to sneak back in to the bar and try a shot of their White Lightening spiked with peach.

You see we are all secretly (who am I kidding it’s not a secret) afraid of her. She can be really mean.


I blame it on her dramatic birth in the back of our Dodge minivan. Or on the unfortunate incident that occurred on my watch when she was 12 months old (fell down the stairs, broken femur). Spending 6 weeks in a body cast will do weird things to your personality. It’s unfortunate but true.

This girl has mood swings like no other. One moment she is talking faster than a speeding bullet, the next she is brazenly bossing one of us  around. Then she blows. All in her own self obsessed universe. It’s kind of like living with a hurricane...enjoy the peace of the eye...because it’s a temporary respite.

We decided to figure out exactly how weird Austin really is and the only way to do that is by foot.

She had borrowed her sisters new ankle boots that day because wearing them just made her feel...absolutely bitchin’. Strolling the downtown streets of Austin in a herd. Exploring for hours. Moving fast. Covering ground. Late in the cool December afternoon we landed at the Halcyon-Coffee-Bar-Lounge, a very nifty place on W. 4th.

Some of us opted for lattes and some of us decided it was late enough to start a true happy hour. It was artsy, friendly and warm inside. I’m a sucker for interior brick walls with art. Beverages were savored and someone wasn't getting enough sympathy for her boo boos.

It was decided that no matter how cool Halcyon was, she needed to put a little space between herself and her people.  After asking the friendly bartender/latte maker for a few band aids (remember the cute boots...) she took her seething self outside to self soothe. While tending her now raw bleeding toes while sitting on the cement curb this understated interaction took place.

Homeless Guy: Wow, that looks painful. Are you OK?

Hurricane: Yeah, I walked way too far in my sister’s boots (shrugging her head in the direction of our group inside). Look at this mess.

Homeless Guy:  I lost my toenail on Monday. It was gross. I slept in the garage over there for a few days so I wouldn’t have to deal with anybody.

Hurricane:  Sounds good to me. Sorry about that. Want a band-aid? I can go inside and get more.

Homeless Guy: Nah. But can I have a couple bucks, go get myself a sandwich?

Hurricane:  Sorry Dude, I’m broke. You can have this, flipping him a quarter.

You just never know. The funny thing about her is when she's bad, she's very very bad. And when she's good she is AWESOME. She took charge of her Texas cousins little kids. She took charge of serving dinner to our group of 20. She took charge of her cousins new Great Dane puppy.

playing with Claire

putting Zak to sleep

Hula Hut with her big bro

with her sisters at Hey Cupcake

We were really quite shocked at how long we were able to vacate together with minimal drama. My husband and I thought, "maybe she really is maturing". She totally went out her way everyday to be helpful. That is so weird. I tucked her on a plane back to Detroit and met up with her at home a few days later.

Opened the mail and now I know what we observed was kissing up big time. $175 moving violation committed by hers truly. You got some splaining to do missy.

Jack is back with a vengeance and he’s brought Freddie Prince Jr with him. After a ho-hum season last year, this week’s 4 hour premier is reestablishing 24’s status as the show to watch.

Chloe, along with her signature eye rolling and geeky-sly ways, seems to be taking a more prominent roll. By the end of the 4th hour she managed to come from behind to raise her value in the eyes of her new boss who seemed to be on a roll to get rid of her during the first few episodes.

I’m not really a Kiefer Southerland fan (I’ve heard he’s a real jerk) but I am a Jack Bauer fan. This season he’s starting out all warm and fuzzy, babysitting his adorable little grand daughter and planning to move to LA to live near them. Of course those plans get waylaid in the first 30 minutes. Enter a Russian mob villain looking to do very bad things. They bring former FBI agent Renee back since she’s experienced going deep under cover in Russia. Ten minutes later we find out “we have to be careful to handle this by the books” Renee can now cut off a Russian guys thumb with a power saw without feeling a bit of moral ambiguity.

 

I know Jack wants to be retired but I think we need to get him to the Midwest to interrogate the Christmas Diaper bomber. Let’s get someone on this guy to find out what all we can expect to be facing here in the next year. Last season I made the mistake of getting all excited about Jack Being Back. So far I think I see a glimmer of hope for a bang up season.

Just as suddenly as Jack has reappeared, so it seems has my Gap Silver Status.

You might recall that last year during the big financial crisis I did what any sane person would do. I cut back on my spending and was rewarded by being downgraded from my premier shopping status.

The funny thing is I haven’t bought a single thing from the Gap all year. However between my clothing needs and that of 3 teenagers I have rung up necessities at Banana Republic and Old Navy...where I also use my Gap card. But they say I've earned my way back to a special status and as far as I can tell the only perk I would enjoy is free hemming ( a good thing because I am short).

Maybe my special status is supposed to make me feel special enough to be more shopative whenever I walk into the store?

Raymondo is doing his part to help the economy. Monthly flights to the west coast and several over to Sweden has helped burn up enough jet fuel to quickly reestablish his platinum status with the airlines. Now that makes him really happy since it does help him with the perks that help making traveling more palatable for my road warrior. That premium leg room seat, the occasional auto bump up to first class and the special security line assures him that he is indeed special.

Just ask George Clooney who portrays American Airlines king of the frequent fliers in the thought provoking movie Up In The Air. It was painful for those of us living in Michigan to watch this bittersweet story from the director of Juno, Jason Reitman. But the discomfort was balanced out by the touching mentor relationship that Clooney (reluctantly at first) develops with his young ambitious associate. Clooney nails his part as a well seasoned road warrior working the travel perks system for all that it is worth.

Of course all the perks in the world do not make us feel special enough to forget about the Christmas day bombing attempt on the very Northwest Airlines route my husband frequently travels from Amsterdam to Detroit. As with most frequent fliers he thinks the TSA is a joke and he sleeps with one eye open on his international flights. Well, he says he does but I have my doubts. He pretty much is sound asleep before the plane leaves the gate on a typical flight.

You can bet that I however, do not sleep on a flight. I’m like all hands on deck ready. I’ve pulled out my Tybo tapes and given myself a refresher on how to kick somebody’s ass if necessary.

As for my road warrior, I send him out confidently to go forage for money to pay our bills. Deals....make deals...close deals...stay safe while doing it.

The Pastry Chef & The Prince

So our first stop this year was Chicago where our first three work and live. My daughter, who is an assistant pastry chef, made arrangements for us to have a cozy family dinner (if you can consider 8 boisterous people a cozy group) at the restaurant where she's employed.

Meat flight

I was a fan of the Bin 36 restaurant group before she was hired there last year. I had been there several times on visits to Chicago, mostly sampling their vast wine and cheese selections that sets them apart from other fantastic Chicago establishments. One of the charms about this place is the various sections where different styles of gathering and dining are available.

Cheese flight

The baby is now 12 and having 3 teens to deal with daily has just about done me in. On the other hand it's wonderful to be able to go out as a group with a reasonable expectation of having everyone be mature enough to really enjoy each other out in the public arena...without too much fuss.

Well, I guess there will always be a certain amount of fuss with our group. We are not a very sedate bunch so places like Bin 36 are a fantastic forum for us to enjoy sophisticated dining in a situation that's casual and not the least bit stuffy.

For us, it's a win-win.

We began our evening with Champagne and a flight of meats and cheeses. It took a bit of coaxing to get everyone to have a nibble of some of the unfamiliar tasty tidbits set before us. Despite that signal, deeply ingrained inside me from years of parenthood, to move the show along before any big mishap occurs we were all able to relax and savor the experience.

Make no mistake, after years of parental gorilla warfare, I was the one who had the most difficulty relaxing sufficiently to appreciate the moment. Bin's vast wine selection helped me achieve my goal.

After being plied with vino, meats, cheeses and the like we decided to share some of our entrees. The staff accommodated us bringing out our entrees split and beautifully presented.

Peppercorn Crusted Blue Marlin

NY Strip with Shiraz-Shallot Butter

Bin 36 Burger (Tavern Menu)

The minute the youngest left to visit the restroom we all had to fight over a bite of the baby's burger despite having sampled our way through delicacies and sophisticated entrees. We just love to provoke her scorn. We all agreed the burger was fantastic.

When it comes to saving room for the important stuff we know how to roll. Desserts are important stuff. Especially when they include all house made delights such as gelatto & ice cream sandwiches to the more complex Crispy Brioche with Pumpkin Zabaglione, Gingerbread with apple salad and concord grape grainita.It seems that my gang was so excited by the desserts presented that we suffered a photographic failure (to take the picture before you take a bite because you never know what your crazy mother will use for her blog).

This little cutie (Sweet Potato Donuts with Marshmellow Ice Cream) was the only thing left unscathed when I returned from my brief pastry kitchen tour. Bin 36's king of the pastry department, Chef Tom is a delight to visit with and possesses the unique ability to be personable yet a creative stickler for detail in the items that roll out of his kitchen.

We almost made it through the night without anyone getting out of hand. The only criticism came by a few of my spawn complaining "enough with the camera already." I do admit to blatantly following a particular server around trying to get a picture on the downlow to prove he is Justin Timberlake's doppelganger. I did reign myself in enough to stop before asking to have my picture made with him. You know you have reached an important goal when you have a lovely evening out with your family and the only person causing any kind of a fuss is you.

Much appreciated mama lovin'

Like our Commander In Chief I like to collect all of the data, see who is to blame, what the details are and then apply the consequences in a manner that's appropriate to the degree of infraction that has occurred. Blame isn't always a key factor. Sometimes just reviewing the occurrence with all of our family members and deciding on what a better course of action would have been is sufficient.

You know, like when your child comes home with bad grades on her report card. And the teacher confirms she's not turning her homework in on time?

So I understand when, a few weeks after the attempted terrorist attack, President Obama is trying to play bad cop (and doing a woefully inept job at it) while he reviews a huge amount of intelligence data. Those pesky Jihadists. Can't they see our national tone has changed and we are trying to be nice to them? Gee willackers Beaver, how should we proceed?

First of all let's send them a clear message.

I need my chillin' time, even the real news agencies are up in my business

After all it is Christmas. Good ol' George ruled many a crisis from his Waco, Texas ranch.The President can work anywhere. Sufficient staff was "in position" in Washington to expedite any crisis that needed handling. Not to worry. We are talking about a well oiled machine.

"The system worked seamlessly"

The system maybe didn't work as well as it should have

 "I said there was NO SMOKING GUN !"

Meanwhile, the Hawaiian vacation continues for the Obamas.

Now I'm feelin' it, oh yeah

Michael Leitner, Director of National Security and Counter-terrorism heads to the slopes for some father-son bonding.

Hellooo? It was a failed terrorist attempt people.

In Monterey, CA contemplating a change in his not quite ready for prime time status , Leon Panneta, head of the CIA.

Finally,they may think I'm relevant after all

Back at the ranch, reality starts sinking in for John Brennan, Deputy National Security Advisor.

Craappp. I think I may be in charge of this hen house.

Earlier in the week the Prez was officially "back in the howse". The President admits someone screwed up and let the diaper bomber on the flight from Amsterdam to Detroit on Christmas day. This is a matter that I can certainly can relate well to. My husband, who is a road warrior, was out of town on 9/11 and now frequently flies the Amsterdam to Detroit route on Northwest Airlines.

Not to worry. Raymondo wasn't on the route that day. We were all safely ensconced in the Austin, Texas Marriott concierge lounge when I first heard about the terrorist attempt to blow up NW 253 from Amsterdam. Hearing the news I immediately did a mental inventory of the whole family (all present except the pastry chef daughter who was stuck in Chicago).

My anxiety grew that week as the day for our flight home approached after the incident. I was down right panicked about  how I was going to make it through the 3 hour flight home if I couldn't get into my purse for lip balm or mints, if I couldn't use my computer or at least read my Charlaine Harris novel the last hour of the flight. I'm easy to torment, just bore me to death for 15 minutes and I'll be suffering.

We got to the Austin airport way early in case there were any complications, but it was business as usual. I had decided to check our bags so we wouldn't have any extra hassle in security (just didn't know it was going to cost me $20 a pop). I made sure my 14 year old had packed her way more than travel sized acne clarifying lotion in the bags to be checked. We played the pick out the future terrorist game while we waited.

On the plane, the only hitch came when they announced that we were to prepare for our landing. One geeky dude got up and headed back to the restroom. We all watched him cautiously out of the sides of our eyes and held our breath. We civilians have to have eyes in the back of our heads these days. After a few suspenseful seconds the largest stewardess used her mass and power to command the wayward passenger to "GET BACK IN YOUR SEAT, SIR!" He submissively did as told.

Other passengers in other airports haven't fared so well this week and many of our airport weaknesses have been on the telly 24/7 for the whole world to see. President Obama has chalked up a lot of face time since he returned to DC impersonating a tough guy, threatening to hold the people who dropped the ball accountable.

Only, so far that has not seemed to happen. All the bungling bureaucrats involved are still on board the last I heard. It seems in another political A.D.D. moment, the chance to act swiftly has come and gone. Our leader has finally admitted we are at war yet seems to support the decision to try our most recent diaper bomb terrorist in criminal court (ala Kahlid Shiek Mohammad) instead of as an enemy combatant.

You can bet the TSA will have more authority to torment elderly people in their hover chairs along with families traveling with children and strollers. The race is on for more high tech equipment to detect trouble at the airports. Next will be the challenge to find money to pay for this technology.

Lord knows what will be the next thing we need to be searched for. Thankfully young Islamic radical men don't wear exploding tampons or no menstruating female would be allowed to fly. Maybe we should surrender all of our personal clothing and underwear to the TSA and don hospital gowns wear while we fly.

But that would be too cold. How about safe flight sweats, all fleecy and cozy. That however would be a sizing nightmare. Plus there would be a lot of, but orange is not my color complaints. It must be bed time cause I am getting punchy now. Before I turn in I'll leave you with this eerily predictive memory from the Democratic primary commercials. I'm sure you remember this woman and the famous 3 a.m. emergency phone call ad questioning her opponents ability to handle a crisis when it really counts:

I told you so.

Traveling has it’s ups and downs. Sometimes the downs can be so overwhelming you almost don’t want to go but I was determined to pull this complicated trip off. I like road tripping best, but that of course is not always practical if there’s a lot of miles involved and a limited time frame. My travels began with a road trip to Chicago, then to air tripping on to Austin, TX . From there I’m boarding another plane to Dallas to attend an emergency summit meeting with a few fellow bloggers  (you all know and love) to start solving some of the problems our government can’t seem to get a handle on.

First of all, being from Detroit where sadly there is no such thing as mass transit I was overjoyed at my experience getting from downtown Chicago out to O’Hare early this morning for $2.25 versus a $40 cab ride.

True, I did have to schlep an overstuffed carry on suitcase, a computer bag and my large purse down the cement stairs to the underworld CTA blue line stop. Tried to purchase my ticket with a credit card, which is a no no. Luckily a kind soul gave me change for my $20  bill so I could buy my $2 trip to the airport.

40 minutes later I arrived at the last stop, O’Hare. I did’t find the TSA people as much fun at the Chicago ORD as they are in Detroit DTW or as Asheville AVL, airports I’m more familiar with. But after I got by Ms. Crankypants the rest of security check through was fine.

Don't scenes like this make you FEEL so safe when flying?

On the plane,they gate checked our carry ons, which I would later find out was a gigantic blessing. I proceeded to Austin on an unremarkable flight except for the 1 year old who screamed like a banshee the first and last 20 minutes. Since I’ve been there and done that with a baby many times I try to send some compassion to the poor mother.

Safely arrived in Austin I freshen up, grab a latte and wait for my next flight. People watching helped pass the time, I saw some strange specimens. I really would have liked to unobtrusively snapped some pictures but my hands we full with all my stuff. Plus, I’m not sure how the Texans feel about crazy tourists photographing them.

I suspected I was in trouble when I found a SW gate attendant to check me in and get me a boarding pass. They both  apologetically kept saying how I could have checked in online. I assured them I was familiar with that and that I usually do roll that way but my daughter didn’t have a printer to print a boarding pass. No problem, we’ll get you set up. They continued to emphasize how I should remember for next time to check in even if I can’t print my boarding pass.

Can you say "moo"?

Yeah, I got that message. So I continue waiting good-naturedly, I might add, for my flight. Then they explained the boarding procedure and how you have to board by your number. Oh, and there are no assigned seats. Well. The clincher was my number was C27. So, after waiting for people with A 1-60 to be lined up in chutes like cattle, then waited to group B 1-60 to be loaded up, finally it was my turn. Me and the 3 people behind me. Now the fun is going to start.

I clamor on to the plane, checking again, yes it’s true, there are no assigned seats so if you find one grab it. Oh, yeah, and your bag, the overheads are filling up so take the first spot for that thing that you see. Holy shit. Now I know I’m in trouble because I’m 5 ft 1 1/2 inches and I’ve got to haul this very heavy bag over my head and shove it into a compartment I can’t really reach.

Luckily the gentleman in line behind me gave me some assistance. Only my bag did not want to go. Over stuffing was the culprit. Quickly I remove one bulky item and carry it. My bag goes in and I’m not looking forward to trying to get it out of that place that it’s currently wedged into. Now to find a seat. Looks like my choice is next to a very heavy lady with a cane. Or between 2 very tall, muscular young gentlemen.
Worn out jean clad legs spread out in V.

I make myself as small as possible and squeeze between the two of them. We mumble a few words to each other, they give a few more grunts about a football game and off to sleep they both go for the hour long flight to Dallas. As they relax their long legged V’s ease into my leg space until they are forming a complete W over my short little stumpy legs. I don’t let it affect me.

I have a son their age and am accustomed to being overwhelmed by the size of college aged boys. The one with the dark hair ever so slightly has drifted to the right until his head is slightly onto my seat. Then over until it barely touches my shoulder. I think of them as big oversized baby boys and keep reading my book. Before you know it they are doing the prepare for landing mumbo jumbo. Both young men sort of shake off their nap, sit up straighter but still keep their long legs V’d into my space.

Upon landing, I boldly bartered their use of my “space” in our row to ask them to get my bag out of the overhead compartment for me. No problem. As Mayor I have developed some wicked negotiating skills.

Out into the Texas sunshine I went. So this is what it feels like to wander around without a coat in December. It was time to officially begin the emergency bloggers summit that was only to last a mere 24 hours. I spotted my ride right away despite the fact that we’d never met face to face. I had a description including the make, model and color of her car and being from Detroit I have special powers to detect the minute design details that separate a Lexus from a Nissan.

Within 5 minutes of meeting my hostess who so generously opened her home to our small meeting, I knew that we would like each other in person as we do online. Nothing like running a few errands together to increase bonding. Did you ever have the chance to see the Tequila isle at a Texas liquor store? I  had no idea there were so many varieties, brands and flavors of the Mexican liquor.

Once we arrived to our clandestine meeting place I was absolutely tickled to be sitting around a backyard POOL, sipping a beverage and threatening to take a dip in said pool to the horror of my Texan comrades. You see folks from Michigan will get in a pool in just about any weather once they are south of the Mason-Dixon line. It was only our very tight schedule that kept me from taking the plunge.

Mayor to the left, plaid to the right, here I am stuck in the middle with you.

I’d love to spill the details of our summit which we all agreed would take part on the down low, you know the vow of “what happens in Dallas stays in Dallas”.  Consequently the only photographic evidence I can share with you is this most interesting shot of Moi, thoroughly enjoying a delicious Lemon Drop martini at a local steak house. As bloggers will do we couldn’t help noticing the plaid pair sitting near us. First individually, then corporately imagining all the possible scenarios as to how this couple arrived to dinner in their fetching (almost matching) plaid button down shirts.

That night I wisely checked in online for my flight back to Austin to begin part II of my Christmas trip. After a leisurely morning spent over coffee, conversation and home baked cinnamon rolls  we reluctantly said our good byes. I was deposited at the airport by my delightful companion and started another travel day with anticipation and just a tiny bit of anxiety. I made a quick stop outside of the Southwest terminal to pick up my boarding pass (for which I had registered the night before).

I was number A 28. Score.

Stay tuned for Part II & III of my travel log.

Just in time for your holiday parties and travels.

I don't normally like to  make a fuss out in public, but I have been know to cause a scene every know and then because it's fun to annoy my young 'uns (and old ones). I figure I owe them a lot of annoyance as  pay back. The truth is it can be a drag hanging it with someone who is right 92% of the time. On occasion I take pity on them and give them something to chastise me about.

When we are together as a family I'm always on the look out for fun and good blogging fuel. If you can't find some then you make some. So far I must not have pushed them to the edge because they all are usually anxious for my company. Even the time I made my elegant and professional daughter lick an Audi RS4 parked on the streets of Chicago and all the other licking I have made them do for a story, didn't banish me from their good graces.

Mayor tossing ham back at The Publican.

Central sink for the unique potty at The Publican

What, your mother doesn't make you help her rate bathrooms when you're out and about? Then exploit the photo ops. Not every idea I have is a good one, but being a visionary means that sometimes bad ideas have to be explored too.

Luckily everyone has a good sense of humor, but it is the responsibility of an astute person to judge when your actions are getting out of hand (happens to the best of us). These are the types of cues I eventually pick up on when I've pushed a little too far with my shenanigans and requests,as demonstrated by my son:

I don't think so

No! Absolutely not

You think you're funny? I think you're crazy

Did you see how those social cues escalate in the level of rejection? Sure you do. So why is it when I go out on the town with my homies that men in particular don't have the capacity to pick up on that whole cue thing? What is it about the sight of a petite blond woman that emboldens them to behave in an overly familiar way? Why would anyone think that because I am short it's OK to pick me up, carry me around, or try to dress me up like a circus poodle. Again, the Prince and my foster boy help me demonstrate a cue that says:

It's ok for my loved ones to play with me

Let me make myself crystal clear for those of you who aren't very astute. In general it's not appropriate to put your hands on people you don't know. Remember pre-school, keep your hands to yourself. It's one thing to socialize and meet new people. I'm all for that. Man handling females you don't know is inappropriate.

Quiz: can you find the negative cues?

Does it look like I'm enjoying this attention? Let's see: muscles tensed, facial grimacing, ready to turn around and give this guy the major stink eye. And NO do not put your stinking coon skin cap on my head either. I try not to get to upset and cause my male family member to want to spring to my defense because that can lead to unnecessary trouble. I think I'll stick with my time tested method of ignore, diffuse, distract and if all else fails leave. And so we did as soon as I heard my son loudly say, "Hey, that's my mother" to some obnoxious patrons he was familiar with. I took that as our cue to go.

Straight to Fulton Lounge , our favorite hang out in the meat packing district. Justin monitors the door for loonies in coon skin caps:

The men in charge there are gentlemen which makes it a very nice environment for spending time with the people you enjoy without getting molested. Gabby controls the scene like a pro:

Gabby's the bomb

Now that you've had your cue review, get out there and enjoy the season.

My life seems to be very cyclical. We embarked on an experiment to leave suburbia. So we started with a cottage on 2 secluded acres on a turquoise lake (way too much yard work). When I couldn't take the seclusion I designed and built a 5000 square foot house on a postage stamp lot of a deep water marina on Lake Michigan. Granted it was in a scenic village environment with spectacular sunsets over the water every night but living in a vacation paradise had it's downside.

What I found out was that many square feet of bead board, wood floors and the challenges of the elements living on one of the Great Lakes north of the 45th parallel made the cottage on 2 acres child's play. I nearly worked myself to death keeping that place up. Not only that, I found myself wasting away in want of a Target, a quality shopping mall and fresh fruit in the winter. I know it sounds trivial and bourgeois to admit that but you'd be surprised at the things you miss when you don't have them at your disposal.

So now we are back in suburbia, with quality schools and a rental home that is so indistinctive that I still pass my driveway at least once a week. Fire hydrant, remember the fire hydrant. We don't own a bunch of fabulous things anymore but we're good.

Along the way we had a Yellow Lab. Abbey was a great family dog. Typical for her breed, she lived to please us...unless she caught a sniff of some contraband food in the back of a construction worker's pick up. Then all bets were off. When her time was over we decided to get a French Bull Dog. The internet had dawned, we did research and welcomed Pearl into our family.

Typical French attitude. We used to say she was so ugly she was cute. She despised Northern Michigan for being too cold most of the time. She was unable to swim and was tormented when we insisted taking her along on the boat wearing a doggy life preserver. She was a well traveled bitch, having lived the urban life for a year in Chicago with our oldest daughter. Although she was only 12 pounds she ruled the dog park.

When we moved back to suburbia we decided to calm my nighttime willies by getting a dog a little more substantial in size. A part of me was clearly warned that our new breed of choice would be big and mighty one day. I figured, no problem. I've had a German Shepherd and a Lab. They were both big. That's how we got Cole:

Exhibit A: Bouvier des flandes

bath time bouvier

He was healthy and happy. And very strong for his size. My son wasn't a big fan. Called him a bouvie-ugly. The girls couldn't get enough of him. They took him outside, they got in his crate and played, they slept by him.... and he adjusted to our lives. Overall a well behaved and only slightly mischevious puppy.

Bouviers are a working breed and Cole liked to help with the dishes. They are very intelligent but stubborn. He rocked his puppy class and was pretty train able. He's quick to follow commands, when he agrees with them. There are clearly times when he has illusions of grandeur where he believes his judgement is supreme and it takes my Mayoral might to persuade him otherwise.

The funny thing about a large breed dog is they take a few years to fully mature. Many seasons pass and you don't realize...

how big they are getting

and scary

and choosy about who gets through security.

 On the bright side I don't worry about locking my doors. Even when asleep in his hidy hole in the kitchen he's monitoring the situation. Maybe I could pawn him off on the White House, after the Salahi party crasher breech, I heard their security could use some beefing up. This dog is perceptive. I don't know what gene pool the waste of fur they call the First Dog came from, but obviously someone was sleeping on the job.

We call him many things now and none of them include the adjective cute.

Big

Big Black Bastard

B3

Mister

Sir

Stinkopotomus

Bad Ass

The Intimidator

Sir Farts A Lot

He weighs in at 127 pounds of muscle and he's not to be toyed with. He loves other dogs (large and small), but if your a human you're going to have to pass muster. We go through the whole Dog Whisperer routine of come in but ignore the dog. No talking to him, no touch, no eye contact. Take command of the space. Wait, after about 3 minutes of being ignored he'll decide you're cool and invite you to pet him.

Now that he out weighs everyone who resides in this house but my husband I think you can see why I believe I have been punked.

Turns out I had a small reason to get dressed as I had to get my husband's prescription filled, snag some paper towel and a memory card for my camera. I compromised with myself after dinner and changed my pajama pants for sweat pants, slid my bare feet into a pair of fugs, donned a ski coat over my pajama top and drove the mile and a half to my local Target.

I love Target, truly I do. If they only had a full grocery store in that place I'd never venture on my usual Grocery Store Whore wanderings. I dropped off the Rx at the pharmacy counter and requested they re-bill a prescription I had filled 3 days ago and paid cash for due to an insurance snafu. I assured them I could occupy myself for 30 minutes easy and off I went trying to stay focused on my task.

In the electronics department I stood perplexed sorting through the camera memory cards trying to decide if the more expensive higher GB cards would yield better quality photos for my blog. I was offered assistance by an articulate young clerk who listened to my needs and assured me the mid-range card would suit my purposes when she could have tried to upsell me. I appreciate that.

A short while later they called me back over the speaker to the pharmacy. I just dread that, it usually means another insurance battle. I turns out they were out of one of stock on one of the medications. Did I want him to call other pharmacies to find someone who had it? Then he re-billed my insurance successfully, then had me wait because he didn't think the amount they credited me was quite right. He apologized and said wait while I call the manager to check this. So, I waited (I'll admit I'm not a good waiter). She came right over and they debated the situation until all parties were satisfied I got enough credited back to me. Then she handed me this:

Is that not the coolest thing ever? An apology coupon. Actually 3 apology coupons. For me waiting while they made sure I got good customer service after my insurance company caused aggravation for all of us. If anyone should be offering me an apology coupon it should be Blue Cross. All retailer and service providers should take a lesson from the master marketers at Target.

On my way out of the store I encountered I small screaming mimi of Japanese persuasion, loudly protesting what her embarrassed mommy would not let her have her way out. In the isle next to me the cashier politely asked a little boy, about 8 years old, not to play with the controller for the credit swiper a few times while his middle eastern mother just stood by horrified that a mere woman would be reprimanding her son. You see in several of these cultures we have in SE Michigan it is not normal for male children to be thwarted by their  female elders.

Back in my car this Carrie Underwood song came belting out "carved my name into his leather seats. Took a Louisville slugger to both headlights, slashed a hole in all 4 tires, maybe next time he'll think before he cheats". That lead me to this observation. It's been rumored that Tiger Woods spends $1million a year on a swing coach, and that's obviously paid off for this most successful  golfer.

Well I'm just speculating but I think there is good reason to believe that old Elin Woods may have hired Carrie Underwood as her swing coach and inspired Elin with her "Before He Cheats". I'd say Elin took those lessons to heart because not only did she totally mess up the house chasing that boy around it looks like she hit quite a few "sweet spots" on Tiger's head.

Back at home I am observing my 18 year old is not home here at 12:54 so I better get on the phone and track her down. She's been warned about not texting me back, now I'm going to have to put my money where my mouth is and bat her about the head with her cell phone.