Amazingly Awesome Ridiculous Time Waster

I am way too easily distracted, yet I actively search for things that will keep me in that blissful state.  For example, here is my latest discovery:

Koalas to the Max

Yes, the title is ridiculous!  And yes, the site makes absolutely no sense until you mouse over the giant dot.

ONE GIANT DOT.

SIXTEEN SEMI-GIANT DOTS.

OMG SO MANY DOTS.

I THINK THAT IT'S A FUCKING KOALA, YOU GUYS.

And guess what?  There are other pictures!  I saw them!  Just hit refresh when you're done with one, and then you will be magically whisked away to a BRAND NEW PUZZLE featuring possibly a BABY OTTER, or maybe OWLETS OMG.

Deodorant Auditions

My deodorant has been discontinued, which I realize is a first-world problem and everything, and I should be bitching about the lack of affordable health care or whatever, but this is what is happening NOW. To ME.

I know that you're like me, because who switches deodorants when theirs hasn't been banished from the earth?  Only weirdos, that's who.  Since I was using Arrid for years, I haven't had to find a new one in... well, years.  So I headed to Target and the travel size section.

Oh, and also? I sweat like a prostitute in church.  So I need some heavy duty stuff.

First up: Degree Expert Protection Motion Sense:

Hello, Degree?  "Fresh Energy" scent?  FUCK OFF.  Your scent gave me such a headache that I don't even fucking remember if you kept me from sweating.  I don't remember!  YOU SUCK YOU GO TO HELL.

Next, Arrid Extra Extra Dry Solid:

This is the same one that I used to use, but in a different scent.  It is difficult to tell if it's for men or women, but since I'm not sweating through my shirts by 9 a.m., I think that it's a keeper for now.  I have a really bad feeling that this is going to be phased out, too, so I might go raid the mom and pop pharmacy where I found it and ask for whatever they have in the storeroom.

FUNNY STORY TIME YOU GUYS.

Randomly (but not so randomly, I guess, since we're related), my cousin Christin and I seem to have the same body chemistry.  We like the same perfumes in such a way that not only do they smell nice on each of us, but they smell exactly the same on each of us.  Which is weird, right?

Anyway, whenever I find a perfume that I like, I go to Sephora and lie about never trying it so that I can get a sample and send it to her. And then she likes it, too and we dance about merrily.  Well, I do.  She lives in Arizona now, so I can't be sure if she also dances.

But I think that she does.

So I called her this weekend to ask her about her deodorant.  As you do.  Her answer, "Well, I used to use Arrid, but I can't find it anymore."

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

How strange is that, seriously?  Family blood and whatnot. Ew.

Right, so...

Those are the only two I've tried so far, which I realize does not translate to a fair and balanced contest, but still.   Christin just texted me that she tried Suave 24 hour protection invisible solid and that is was, "not bad," so that's a possible future contender.


Or I could just go back to nature.

More Ann Arbor Street Art and a Spooky Shot of West Hall

To-go List

So remember how I have three nieces?  Here's some proof:

Steve, Savannah, Haley, Alexis, and Kari

There are three, and they are all beautiful and perfect. My brother and Kari are cool too, I suppose.

Well, the third one was baptized the other weekend and it was a lovely affair.  We had the church to ourselves, Mike only made me laugh a few times, and no one dropped anything.  And Haley didn't make a sound.

It was back to my brother and sister-in-law's for the after-party, and that was also fun, even with all of the yelling at the Lions. And the baby slept through it all.

At one point, I was looking for something (Lord only knows what), and I found a note with both Steven and Kari's handwriting.  Clearly, it was a list of things to remember in order to go somewhere, and it cracked me up, mostly because if the randomness:

Steve wanted to remember clothes, a hot pocket (did they forget it?  It wasn't crossed out!  We'll never know!), and pop tarts.  Kari added the breast milk.  And I laughed like an idiot.

I Made a Fucking Pot Roast

Step One:
Stuff that motherfucker with garlic cloves.

Step Two:
Sear on each side for 4-6 minutes a side.

Step Three:
Add water. Reduce heat. Cover.

Step 4:
Cook for three hours, adding water when necessary because that shit will boil down, I'm telling you.

Step 5:
Eat that motherfucker.

Free Water = Free Candy. Wait, What?

There is a grocery-type shop in the basement of the Union on campus (when I was a student, it was a student travel agency, but whatever), and they sell all manner of things.  The pre-made sandwiches are pretty amazing, and they carry a ton of Michigan-made products.

They also have a small bulk food section in the back of the store.  THIS WILL BECOME IMPORTANT LATER.

The student government at U of M has taken it upon themselves to lobby for the University to ban the sale of bottled water on campus.  The University won't ban it entirely, but they compromised by installing "Refill Stations" all over campus.  They're pretty cool, actually.  The grocery-type shop has one, too, and they want to reward people for using it.

Step 1: Refill your water bottle for free
Step 2: Get a stamp/punch each time
Step 3: Do this ten times
Step 4: Get a free half-pound bag of bulk candy (or granola, if you're a hippie)

AWESOME, right?

I only have three punches so far, but I am SO getting some chocolate covered pretzels, you guys.  They will be my reward for drinking water instead of Coke.

........................

Cut to the other weekend, when I took Mike to a bulk food store.  Apparently, he had never set foot in one before, and he acted like... well, a kid in a candy store.

Thirty-five bucks later, Mike was happy.  And SUPER high on sugar.  I will need to get him some water.

Remember Video Stores?

It wasn't every weekend, but my parents indulged my brother and me with VHS rentals fairly often.  It was cheaper than going out to dinner or to Chuck E. Cheese or whatever (though at least my mom could kick back with a cheap chardonnay at Chuck's while we ran around like psychopaths and pretended not to be completely terrified of the animatronic band of wannabe Muppets).  

The rental place near us charged only 50 cents per movie, and they had a huge selection.  (Blockbuster eventually led to the demise of that place with more titles and video games.  Sadly.)

We normally gravitated toward the cartoons and G-rated crap, and every so often we were allowed to get something PG.  I remember us being obsessed with a collection of Christmas cartoons that were definitely off-brand and definitely strange.

I used to see the same titles all the time, but I never once picked them up.  Probably because we were renting Overboard.  God, I loved Overboard.

Ahhhhhhhh! Joanna was such a bitch!  She was the best!

But anyway, there were a ton of movies that I passed once a week.  They always intrigued me, but I never even picked them up to read the back.  For example:

Given my generation's obsession with 90210, how on earth did I never rent this film?  Luke Fucking Perry? A lesser Baldwin brother?  I almost want to watch it now just to judge its ridiculousness. 

I'm guessing that he needs to win a bull-riding competition to like, save his family's ranch or something, and there's a girl he likes but she's stuck in a horrible relationship with the rich landowner's son and they're trying to buy Luke's family's ranch to build a mini mall or a new well for the town.  But in the end love prevails? OF COURSE IT DOES.

This one.  God.  I couldn't stop staring at the cover.  All I wanted to know was how her hair was possibly long enough to make it into a noose. So in this film, clearly there is a killer, but the killer totally has a TWIN and the TWIN is actually the crazy one.  And somebody dies getting strangled to death with that amazing noose-braid.  Otherwise, why even bother getting the hairdresser out of bed that day?  And then it's all a joke? APRIL FOOLS!

And then there's this:

What the hell?  Who made this the picture for the rental?  And Ryan O'Neal?  Really?  Did you spend all of the residuals from Love Story that fast?  Now that I am not ten years old, I can tell that her ass skin isn't really showing, but when I was ten years old, I couldn't understand what was going on.  Did people really wear pants like that?  Why? Were they comfortable? Wasn't she cold?  Where is her shirt?  WHAT IS GOING ON???!?!

So I miss video rental stores, mainly because it was an experience.  You could find the latest releases, but you could also find INSANE movies like these that the owners clearly got for free when ordering twenty-five copies of Back to the Future.  

My Craziness Abounds

While Liz Lemon does everything that Oprah tells her to do, I pretty much do whatever Real Simple magazine tells me to do.  

Case in point: In the bathroom, you should keep items like cotton balls, q-tips, and the like in clear containers so that you know when you're running low.

NO PROBLEM.

Thanks to Ikea, my spirit animal, I picked up these jars.  I think that they are meant for kitchen use, and I do have many of them in the kitchen holding pasta and lentils and whatnot, but they work here.  Quite well.

So there they are, hanging out on the toilet tank (don't judge me - it's not the biggest bathroom in the world), waiting to be used.

But here's a secret: I'm crazy.  Well, perhaps not a total secret, but here's the thing...

I noticed that I was getting low on cotton rounds and q-tips, so I made my purchases and brought them home.  Now, a normal person would immediately refill the jars, right?  Not me.

I can't do that because I haven't used the others completely.  

You might think, oh that's normal.  That makes sense.  She's not crazy.  BUT WAIT.

I haven't refilled the jars yet because if I did, the older ones would still be on the bottom, and may never get used, and I don't want to hurt their feelings.

I DON'T WANT TO HURT THEIR FEELINGS.

Really, Ikea?

It's September 25.

Granted, I have actually purchased a few Christmas presents already, so I can't be all, "Blah, blah, blah holidays blah," now can I?  BUT STILL.

Happy Birthday, Papa!

My Papa turned 89 years old today, and we celebrated him at my aunt's house last night. He is a truly remarkable man, and I am blessed to have had him in my life as long as I have. 

 Harvey and his three great-granddaughters

And then, just for fun, here is my brother and his newborn daughter, Haley.

Quick and Easy Quesadillas

Mike wanted a quesadilla and I had never made one.  But because I buy rotisserie chickens all the damn time, I had some shredded chicken laying about.  I made a few guesses and threw things in a frying pan. It all worked out, and lunch was on the table in just minutes.

Lovely!

Ingredients:
1 cup shredded rotisserie chicken
shredded cheese - amount chosen by YOU
2 whole wheat tortillas
1 tablespoon olive oil

Add olive oil to a cool frying pan and turn the heat to medium-high.  Assemble the tortillas on  a plate - tortilla, cheese, chicken, cheese, tortilla.  Slide the assembled tortilla into the pan.  Place a sheet of wax paper on top of the tortillas and weigh it down with a heavy bowl or pot. Fry for a minute or two (the cheese should be melted) and flip using the largest spatula in your culinary collection.  Add the wax paper and weight and fry for a minute more.

Slide onto a plate and cut into wedges.  I used a pizza cutter!

This is the specific quesadilla that I made for Mike - he likes things simple.  But nothing is stopping you from adding all manner of items, so have at it!

All Water Is Not Created Equal(ly)

Did you come here today for some state-of-the-art inane rambling?  Well, that's what you're going to get!  Hurray!

There are many different brands of bottled water, right?  Can you tell the difference between them?  Like, if there someone hosted a taste test of Aquafina versus Ice Mountain, would you be able to tell?

I can.

Mike thinks that I am utterly ridiculous.  There is no way that there is a difference - it's water.  He says.  Just drink the damn water, he says.  Stop bitching about the Aquafina and try not to talk because the football is on, he says.

Well, Mike, there most certainly IS a difference in taste.

Dasani and Aquafina?  Distributed by Coke and Pepsi, respectively.  Basically, this is the shitty water that doesn't get turned into pop - which also makes me wonder why I continue to drink Coke at all.  

Answer: BECAUSE IT IS MAGICAL AND CURES ALL AILMENTS.

(Seriously, Coke is amazing.  Stomach ache?  Coke.  Hangover?  Definitely Coke.  Headache?  COCA COLA.  Always the answer.)

Anyway, I am partial to Ice Mountain and Nestle.  They don't have the metallic taste like Dasani and Aquafina, which is disgusting and if you drink those then you are disgusting.  That's right.

And there is your rambling idiocy for the day.  YOU'RE WELCOME.

Look at my paint skillz!

The Night Strangers

I made the mistake of going to Barnes and Noble the other day.  "I'm just going to browse," I told myself.  "Just going to get an idea of the books I want to read so that I can borrow them from the library," I said.

Yeah, it didn't go so well. 

First of all, I spend WAY too much time in bookstores.  I definitely DO judge a book by its cover (and its title, if I'm being honest), and have a hard time leaving books on the shelves once I become attached.

In the end, it wasn't really all that bad.  I bought a novel and two logic puzzle books.  I lurve logic puzzles.  LURVE.

I also purchased The Night Strangers by Chris Bohjalian.  Mainly because of the description, but also because of the cover.  I thought that it was scary.

Half original story and half derivative bullshit, Strangers had a bit of a hook, I guess: the protagonist,  Chip Linton, was a pilot forced to land a commercial plane on Lake Champlain after hitting a flock of birds shortly after takeoff.   If this sounds familiar, it is, and Bohjalian makes no secret of this.  He even names Captain Sullenberger by name and references the Miracle on the Hudson more than a few times.  That miracle was everything that his landing was not.  Captain Sully not only maneuvered the plane perfectly, but the conditions of the water, the speed of the wind, and the angle at which he touched down were also perfect.  Everyone survived.  

Chip was not so lucky, however, and thirty-nine people died on his plane.

The family needs a new start, clearly, and they relocate to upstate New York.

The new townspeople are strange.  They all have greenhouses.  They call themselves "herbalists."  They are all completely enraptured that the Lintons has twin daughters and are deliriously obsessed with them.  "Did you see the twins?" they constantly ask each other.  And also, "OMFG!!!!!1!!!! TWINS!"

Also, in case I haven't mentioned it, there are twins and they are clearly important.  Incredibly important.  Nefariously important.  

OMG IS SOMETHING GOING TO HAPPEN TO THE TWINS?

Once the Lintons settle - in a house that wouldn't sell, by the way, due to UNFORTUNATE INCIDENTS IN THE PAST - they attempt to rebuild their lives.  Emily easily finds a job in a family law firm, the girls start school, and Chip?  Well, Chip starts seeing and hearing ghosts in the house.

And when he discovers a small door in the unfinished basement - a door bolted shut with thirty-nine railroad ties - things really begin to unravel.

What bothered me about the book is that the "villains" are pretty obvious from the get-go.  There's also a level of comfort between the herbalists that is just a little off.  Just a little too comfortable.  Those things alone were huge white flags, but what really bummed me out was that the story just felt lazy.  

There were a few good moments, and the twins (TWINS?!??!) were very well written and their characters were nicely developed.  

That said, this was the first book I read by Bohjalian.  I don't know that it has inspired me to read another.

Spanish Omelette

After taking my mom to an incredible tapas restaurant for her birthday, I have been craving a version of the Spanish omelette we devoured.   CRAVING.  But I couldn't do it!

I couldn't do it because I didn't have a pan that could move from the stovetop to the oven, and I was afraid that even if I covered the handles in foil, they would melt and stink up the house to high heaven.  So I waited.  And craved.

And then I got a 30% coupon to Kohl's and decided that ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH GODDAMMIT.  I bought a cast iron skillet, because I didn't have one and always wanted one, and HOLY SHIT do you know how much work goes into those damn things?  This one was pre-seasoned, which sounds ridiculous and high maintenance, but I had to re-season it anyway because I washed it when I got home. Apparently that is a huge no-no, but I couldn't be fucked to read the fine print so whatever.

Traditionally, Spanish omelettes are made with olive oil, eggs, onions, and potatoes.  You'd think that it would be boring, but it so is not.  In fact, it really doesn't need much else.  I added a few herbs this time around, but only because they were growing on my terrace and were nice and fresh.

(Ha ha!  The wikipedia article says that a variation would be "without onions." Who in the hell would do that?!??!)

Spanish Omelette

6 eggs, lightly beaten
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. pepper
fresh thyme and rosemary, chopped (optional)
potatoes - peeled, quartered, and sliced lengthwise
1 large yellow onion
olive oil - and lots of it

Heat 3/4 cup of olive oil in pan.  Add the potatoes and cook until tender - about ten minutes. Add the onions and cook until almost tender/translucent.  Beat the eggs and add the chopped herbs, salt, and pepper.  Pour the egg mixture into the pan and stir once.  Leave on heat for about a minute, then transfer to the oven.

Bake for 7 to 8 minutes.

Remove from oven and transfer to a plate to cut and serve.  Can be served hot or cold, by the way.  Both are equally awesome.

What About the Other 49?

I just used this graphite powder product to fix a lock for a professor.  It was pretty neat, and worked like a charm.

But...

But what does it meeeeean?  What about the other states?  What do they think?  Am I okay because I live in Michigan?  If I lived in California would I now have cancer?

Balsamic Pasta

It was one of those days... I just wanted something fresh and simple, and I didn't want to spend an hour cooking. This dish combines so many things that I love, and when you add them all together, it's magic.  MAGIC.

Ingredients:
angel hair pasta
grape tomatoes, halved
1 shallot, thinly sliced
1 clove garlic, chopped
fresh basil leaves
pine nuts, toasted
salt and pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

Cook the pasta according to package directions.  Toast the pine nuts.

Heat olive oil in a pan.  Add the shallot and saute for a few minutes.  Add the chopped garlic and keep things moving so that the garlic doesn't burn.  Toss in some salt and pepper, to taste.  Throw in the tomatoes.  Press down on them gently to release the juices.

Add the pasta directly from the pot - if a little water gets in, that's okay. The starch from the pasta in that water will actually help thicken the light sauce.

Plate the pasta and drizzle the balsamic vinegar over.  Tear the basil leaves and sprinkle on top.  Finish with a sprinkle of pine nuts.  

Sprinkle!

July/August Round-up

So here's the thing.  It's not that I am super busy.  I'm not, really.  In fact, I've been incredibly lazy lately!  And it's not that I don't have anything to write about - there are many stories to be told, book reviews to post, and recipes to share!

So I have made a decision to be better about this blog for the rest of the year... which... well, we'll just have to see how that goes. 

Anyway, the summer was fun, you guys!  I did things!

First off, on July 5th, my parents celebrated 37 years of marriage, which is pretty awesome.  Thanks for setting a good example, parents!  Maybe even I will get married one of these days...

In mid July, my third niece was born (!!!!):

Haley Grace

So that was fun!  It was especially fun because I wasn't the one doing the birthing.  

Soon after that precious miracle, Ann Arbor was hit by the precious tornado that is Art Fair:

This is the calm before the storm.  The morning the Fair started.  My building is in the background, and I was walking to work with my fancy coffee.  The next time I looked out of the window, it was mass hysteria. So. Much. Overpriced. "Art."

I saw The Dark Knight Rises:

It was good!

(But version #2 - Heath Ledger Rules All - was better.)

During the first week of August, my work switched from Outlook email to Google mail.  The old-timey professors collectively lost their shit and HILARITY ENSUED, especially since some of them still used PINE.

Ah, freshman year of college...

I turned 32 years old.

OLD.

And August crawled to the finish line and students moved back to campus, ruining the serenity and calm that accompanies this town in the summer, yet ensuring my employment.

And that is it!  There is nothing more that happened this summer!  TIME FOR SEPTEMBER. GO.

Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father

How are you feeling?  Are you feeling like you need a gut punch TO YOUR SOUL?  Then watch Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father.  Yay!

In November of 2001, a young medical resident was murdered in a park in St. John, Newfoundland. Andrew Bagby, as we learn throughout the film, was a good guy.  

Soon after Andrew's murder, his ex-girlfriend announced that she was pregnant with his child.  His son. Armed with this news, Andrew's long-time friend, Kurt Kuenne, began the process of compiling the thoughts, feelings, and memories of people who knew and loved Andrew as a way of letting his then unborn son learn about his father. A way for Zachary to really get to know Andrew.

Even though he never would. Or could.

Kurt traveled across the US and Canada, and to other places around the world, in order to record interviews with Andrew's family and friends.  From these interviews - these soul-bearing confessionals - we learn of Andrew's impact on others.  He was kind, funny, loving, and willing to do anything for those close to him.

He also had low self esteem and was extremely self-deprecating. He got down on himself too much.  His inability to really like and accept himself lead to unfortunate relationships - but none so damaging as the one with his ex-girlfriend, Shirley Turner.

Dear Zachary also follows the legal process of extraditing his killer back to Canada from the United States, the attempt to get new laws on the books to protect children like Zachary, and Andrew's parents' excruciating ordeal as they fought for custody of Zachary.

I know from my experience watching this film, as well as reading what others have thought about it, that I was not alone in feeling like something really bad was about to happen before we reached a conclusion. 

Dear Zachary is a very convincing documentary, but it is also a little conniving.  Like any good documentary, it establishes the "good" side from the "bad" side in order to make its case.  From the beginning, the viewer knows the identity of the murderer, knows what needs to be done, but waits in agony, along with Andrew's family and friends, for a satisfactory resolution.  But the "twist" is kept a secret until absolutely necessary in order to give you that OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL reaction. 

So in that way?  I thought that it was conniving.  It simply wasn't necessary.  But to make its point?  To do what it was meant to do? It was incredibly effective.  In fact, this film's gut punch was so effective, it was the catalyst behind the passage of a new law.

It is worth watching, but I hope that I warned you.  GUT PUNCH.

"Champion In Like 24 Hours"

My job uses voice recognition software for voicemails, and then relays the voicemail to its recipient in an email message.  

In theory, this is a grand idea.  I am able to read a message in much less time than it would take me to listen, especially if the person is a slow talker or if they take forever to get to the point.

In practice, it is the worst software ever created.  

EXAMPLE: I woke up with a migraine at 6:00 this morning, and called my boss to tell her that I was going to take my migraine medication, go back to sleep, and be in later that morning.

I said something like:

"Hi Jude, it's Heather.  It's 6:00 on Tuesday and I just woke up with a migraine. I am going to take a pill and go back to sleep.  I'll be in later this morning, okay?  Bye."

This is the message she got:

"Hi cheers.  Six something and she state theatre cover from migraine and we will catch asleep -- champion in like 24 hours I'm a little later hope that's okay. Bye."

LUCKILY, the software also allows you to listen to the message, which is imperative given the software's shortcomings.

Cheers!

I Effing KNEW IT, You Guys

OMG, I hate my neighbors.

Five.  Count 'em. FIVE FUCKING BABY RACCOONS.

Oh, but they are soooooo cute!

What are they devouring, you ask?  Oh, nothing. Just the french fries my neighbors were throwing from their balcony.  I am convinced that they prepare food for the sole purpose of feeding the raccoons.

Text from Kelly (who lives on the other side of the neighborhood and is currently battling with baby bunnies who keep eating her flowers): "Idiots! They won't be laughing when one of them eats their baby alive." Because they are bloodthirsty creatures.

True.

The Most Welcoming of Parking Lots

So I went to lady parts doctor.  It's not necessarily an appointment that I look forward to, but at least they know how to welcome their patients:

Pink lines in the parking lot, you guys!  Welcome to your lady parts appointment... NOT FOR BOYS WITH COOTIES!

Suddenly, I Feel Less Safe

Great.  Not only do we have the rare opportunity to live next to complete idiots who insist on feeding the blood-thirsty raccoons, we now have a rape van parked just yards away from our front door.

Hey kids!  Free candy!

We Went to Seattle!

Mike and I went to Seattle, you guys!

His sister and her husband moved there um, a few years ago (?) and his parents moved there in 2010.  Or something like that.  I'm not so good with the dates.  Anyway, as of early May, Mike became an uncle again when his fourth nephew was born.

So we headed out there in early June and I am just getting to this now. I don't know if you've noticed, but lately? I have been a bit of a slacker on this here blog thing.

It started off with a bang - chilling in the Delta Sky Lounge.

Mr. Happy Dinosaur gets himself some water and hob-nobs with the elite.

The plane was a new and fun experience as well:
 

He said that he could see the mountains, but we were only over Ohio at that point.

And as there is absolutely nothing of value in Ohio, so we shut the shade.

Mike's parents met us at the airport and we immediately drove to his sister's to meet the three youngest boys.

The next morning, we journeyed to Snoqualmie Falls, famous for its role in Twin Peaks. We may have found a new animal friend there, but that's a story for another day.  

"The owls are not what they seem."

(Speaking of Twin Peaks , Mike finally agreed to watch the first episode, and was not impressed. "It's just a bunch of people crying about the girl dying. This is not entertaining."  And then he proceeded to read the show's entire synopsis on wikipedia and remained unimpressed.  "Hrmph," he said. "Hrmph," I said.)

Later that day, the whole gang headed to Safeco Field to watch the matchup of the Seattle Mariners and the LA Dodgers.  The Mariners?  Got shellacked: 8-2.

But it was still fun!  If it has been Tigers, I may have been more involved in the game, but they were busy in Cincinnati.  Besides, at Safeco Field, there were garlic fries.  Can we just take a moment to talk about the garlic fries?

OH. You guys, these fries were magical.  Fries tossed with chopped garlic and parsley (and probably clarified butter and grade-A crack for all I know).  I think that we all had garlic coming out of our pores.  WORTH IT. 

Mr. Happy Dinosaur was much more interested in the pace of play.

But the best part was watching Mike bond with his nephews.  It was awesome. 

 Oh, and remember that I mentioned a BABY?  Yeah.  Little Luke turned one month when we were there. 

He got the hiccups soon after this. Which was adorable.

And we eventually got ourselves to Pike Place Market, famous for the throwing of big fish.  But only if someone buys one, apparently.  Hence, we saw no flying fish.  But we did walk to the very first Starbucks, specifically so that I could take this picture:

P.S. I hate Starbucks.

P.P.S. We did not go inside.  

Chris and I wait for the shenanigans to end. Boys. Sigh.

It was a great trip, and I am so glad that we were able to make it out there.  I had never been to Seattle, and it was such an awesome experience.  Thanks for having us, Washington!