But we're not even Italian!

First things first. 48 (well, less than) hours with someone that you haven't seen in 8 months , is a sick joke. I knew that going in, but it still didn't make it any easier when she left. I cried and cried and cried. And then cried some more. A permanent softball sized lump was in my throat from the hours of 8am Saturday to at least 3pm Sunday and it SUCKED. It's getting easier as the days go on (and the promise that she'll be back this spring) so I can't complain too much. Moral of the weekend being that I miss my Mom more than words can describe, 48 hours with her is not enough time in the slightest and...she still can NOT hold her alcohol.

And so the story goes like this:  On Friday (the only full day that I had with her) they of course want to go wine tasting. So I'm all HELL YES because I love any excuse in the whole world to get drunk, especially on a Friday afternoon when I am usually at work. Thus, we go off on our merry little way and I'm navigating from the backseat since I still only sometimes pretend to actually know where I am going. But regardless, we make it to one-two-three-FOUR wineries before my mother makes a fool out of herself. (This is the women who was worried about making it to "enough wineries" even when I told her if we get to three of them, that's considered a good day)

So we make it to Rotta Winery ,where I've never been, and the only reason we went was because they're the only vineyard that makes Black Monukka, which I detest more than life itself, but the other people that I was with only drank dessert wines. YES. PICTURE MY FACE WHEN I HEARD THAT STATEMENT COME OUT OF THEIR MOUTHS. I WISH YOU WOULD. Anyway, after the shock and disgust wore off, we're all standing there "revisiting" our favorites (for future reference, mine is their Trinity and Heritage Zin) when all of the sudden, our pourer says "I smell salami...weird!"

Of which, my beautiful and charming and usually very polite and sweet mother (after a 5 second pause) responds with this little gem: "OH, THAT'S BECAUSE I JUST BURPED."

.... no seriously. Those words came out of her mouth. I COULDN'T BELIEVE IT. After which, she apologized, almost died of embarrassment and proceeded to buy 3 bottles of wine. All of which are now sitting proudly and stoically on my kitchen counter as proof that yes, that REALLY DID HAPPEN.

nice to meet you, 2010.

I've been writing, deleting, and re-writing this for the last week. After all of the holiday hoopla, I think I'm finally finding myself back on solid ground with my head on straight. It's been a glorious two weeks of three day weekends with an indefinite amount of glorious naps and the like. I get ANOTHER three day weekend this week because...

THE DUCHESS IS COMING.

yes, that is right. She will be here (well, LAX) tomorrow morning and then is making the drive up to spend a couple (2, really) days with me before going back down south for a week-long cruise (no, I was not invited and I am not jealous. NOT ONE BIT. NOT AT ALL. BECAUSE I HATE DRINKING AND BEACHES AND SUN AND FUN.)

I'm excited to see her, even if it is just for a couple days. The tentative plan is to go wine tasting on Friday (because well, she is a drunk and I am my mothers daughter) and then dinner with the family out here and then Saturday is M's baby shower (side-note: full term, as of yesterday!) so Mom is needless to say, EXCITED AS ALL HELL, to be able to attend. So, it's brunch/shower in the morning and then, I'm not sure. They need to head back to LB sometime that evening so, we'll see where the day takes us.

Yeah, it's short. And not quite ideal but I haven't seen her in...8 months? HOLY GOD. I HAVEN'T SEEN MY MOTHER IN 8 MONTHS. I didn't even realize it had been that long until just now. I'm kind of a terrible kid I guess. Oh well, point being, she will be here taking up my weekend thus, not only did she give me the gift of life, support me for 18 years and all the other cool shit she's done for me, I get a third three-day weekend in a row because of her. THANKS MOM, YOU RULE.

Anyway, that's not what I've been writing and rewriting for the past week, that just came out of SHEER EXCITEMENT. But I feel obligated to acknowledge the new year? I don't do "resolutions", I think they're for sissies. You either do something, or you don't - that's it. Of course, I have ideas. Things that I tell myself I'll do and yes, make a conscious effort to try and achieve but if I don't, then I don't feel like a total failure. This year, mine are fairly simple I guess. And they go a little something like this: Be Healthier. Be Happier. Make better decisions. Love More.

I think that it's fairly simple? Maybe I'm just hoping that the simpler that they are, the more I'll want to stick to them. A new motto for 2010 perhaps? "Simple Times"? I think I could deal with it.