faux pas after the foie gras?

Last night we attended a surprise birthday party at a swanky restaurant for a very dear friend. It was one of those birthdays that “ends in zero” so a very fun reason to celebrate…and surprised she was! Her husband said he nearly told her earlier in the week because she seemed depressed that her birthday was going to be low-key and she wanted a party. He was on the fence between spilling the beans to lift her spirits and congratulating himself on pulling it off. Ultimately, he kept mum and her reaction is what every surprise-party-thrower wants. The night was lovely, the guest of honor was happy and she had tears of joy from time to time throughout the night.

It was understood that each couple was paying their own dinner. We were to tell the waiter what orders belonged on each check. So after the cake was finished, we figured we should get the bill and get home to relieve the babysitter so Donnie asked the waiter for our check.

We followed up a couple of times but it was fifty minutes (yes, ten minutes shy of an hour!) from the initial request until we received our check. There was no “I’m sorry for the delay—we’re working on it” or anything just a disappearing trick by our waiter. When the checks were finally delivered put on a nearby table for the attendees to sort through on their own--some were duplicates, others were incorrect and at least one (ours) was nowhere to be found.


When we were finally able to get a check by repeating our order to the waiter, he said, "you don't know what it's like to be in my position." But I do. I've been a waitress before at a few different restaurants and I know it's a hard job, which is why I generally tip well (although this wasn't an issue last night--18% was automatically added on because we were part of a large group). I know that separate checks can be time consuming and annoying (but it wasn't a surprise and each couple pointed out what should be on their individual check when ordering). I know that technology can be a help and a hindrance in these situations (the waiter seemed to be having a hard time entering separate orders into the computer).

It was a fun night with a very happy birthday girl and good food...yet I feel like I left with a bad taste in my mouth.

I see London, I see France...I'm glad I wore underpants (and another giveaway)

It was just yesterday that I was longing for colder weather. It’s really not much cooler today but enough that I opted to wear tights and a skirt or maybe I didn’t have any clean pants. Whatever…

Most days Donnie and I drive into work together. We work two blocks apart (weird, huh?). Anyway, he had a doctor’s appointment so he dropped me at the Metro before heading out to his appointment. I like taking the Metro except when I forget to bring a book like this morning…arrrrgggghhh. Again, anyway, I rode downtown, bounced off the train feeling like a real city commuter, made my way up the escalator and started on my short three-block walk to my office.

I’m happily walking down the street when something just seems wrong. It takes me a second to pinpoint it but the very tights that made me smile just a short time earlier are now slowly moving south….then not-so-slowly moving south. I was grateful for the short walk. By time I reached my office the waistband of my tights had somewhat settled on my hips. I was beginning to feel like I couldn’t walk with a normal gait but luckily, the crotch hadn’t dropped to my ankles—just mid-thigh. Oh, I'm a classy one…

I recall last year tossing out several pairs of wayward tights. This stubborn little bitchy pair must have been hiding and decided to resurface on a brisk Wednesday morning after a late Tuesday night. Why a late night? I accidentally got hooked on the season finale of Sons of Anarchy. Accidentally, because I’ve never seen the show and would have preferred to know what was happening instead of coming in not only at the end of the season but after this particular episode had started. No matter…I couldn’t leave the couch. Umm, does anyone watch that show? I get that it’s on cable rather than HBO or some other pay-extra channel but I swear it made The Sopranos look tame. I think I’ll now have to find season one on DVD to know all the players.

And then for some reason Bug woke up and wanted to chat around 3:30am. I don't have a lot to say at 3:30. Answer me this...why is it a baby’s first word is “da da” but the first word out of his mouth in the middle of the night is “MOMMMMY”? Then shortly after 5 he was up for good pretending he wanted to snuggle, which is apparently code for "put Winnie-the-Pooh down Mommy's pajamas." Fun game.

I guess that’s my long-winded way of saying I didn’t notice that the tights fit funny prior to my walk to work because I don't think I was fully awake until I got off the train.


Now onto other matters...


Want to win these vintage diamond and amethyst earrings? Nice holiday gift (for you, maybe?)and you can't beat the price...



Visit Deb at Menopausal New Mom and give it a shot. Tell her I said hi.

Toothday

This sums up Tuesday:


My dentist appointment has been the highlight of the day.


Here's to Wednesday (or at least a better Tuesday night ahead)!

WTF Wednesday

WTF...Where oh where have the road workers gone? I think our construction guys are European and have taken the month of August off. Earlier this summer we were warned given notices that construction would take place from 7am until 7pm Monday through Saturday. Apparently, not every Monday through Saturday.

We passed the one year anniversary of road construction--and yet there was no celebration--or a driveway we can use. They're not building a stadium for the Olympics--they're doing street construction on three city blocks. Oh, and I emailed my councilperson for an update last week and after an initial "I'll check and get back to you" I've heard nothing.

WTF...I recently heard "oh Jethuth" (through a pacifier) in addition to "oh dammit." Perhaps Bug overheard it when his parents were talking about the road construction...oops.

WTF...Why do pharmaceutical ads say "product has greater risk of death." Isn't death 100% for everyone? I get what they're saying but it's goofy.

WTF...How can the summer be over winding down and I've not spent any time with this little sweetie:



Thanks to Sane Without Drugs for WTF Wednesday.

Pet Peeve

Click here if you want to enter the giveaway.

While I realize plenty of people would read the blurb below and not think a thing of it. I'm not one of those people.

MADONNA AND JESUS GO ON A CRUISE
Most of us would have been happy with a cake and the good wishes of a few friends and family. But for her 51st birthday, Madonna opted for an altogether more exciting affair - and brought her 22-year-old lover, two adopted children and daughter along for the ride. The celebrations began on Sunday night when the singer hosted a sumptuous dinner party in the Italian resort of Portofino, where she is staying with her boyfriend Jesus Luz, her adopted children David Banda and Mercy James, and her daughter Lourdes. (The Daily Mail)

I find it curious and a bit annoying that there are two mentions of Madonna's children being adopted. They are her children--simple as that--no qualifier necessary. Now I know I'm a bit sensitive to this issue but the fact that they're adopted isn't part of the story.

During one of our pre-adoption groups, it was once mentioned that there was a write-up about George Burns on his deathbed with his 70-something-year-old adopted son at his side. Really, after 70 years "adopted" is still mentioned? Makes me crazy.

Okay, no back to my regularly scheduled crabby mood.