Thursday, December 27, 2007

A favorite New Year Eve memory

A few of my dot-comrades (Eleanor, Lauren J and Emiline) wrote "New Year's Eve" blog posts today.  Their posts reminded me of one of my favorite memories.

It was our first NYE as a married couple.  Still exhausted and poor from our wedding and Christmas, we were planning a quiet night at home.  A horrible turn of events changed our plans. To protect her privacy, I will not use her name.

She lost her baby.  She and her husband had been trying for quite a long time. She had wrapped the positive pregnancy test in a box to give to her husband.   She just didn't have miscarriage, but lost the baby and almost her own life in the process.  Because most of her friends are nurses, we had to "heal" her.  Once she was home from the hospital, each of us took a day to be in charge.  We brought dinner, we played with her 2 other children, and we did whatever she needed us to do.

Paul and I were assigned New Years Eve.  She had sent her husband hunting for the holiday, he reluctantly went. I made lasagna, garlic bread and salad. We bought some champagne and cheesecake. We headed over to her house.

As usual, her kids met Paul at the door.  He has some sort of magnetism that draws children to him.  Her girls were no different.  They wanted to show him their Christmas presents. One of the girls got a classical acoustic guitar.  She asked Paul to tune it. Paul and the girls stayed in the living room while she and I visited in the kitchen while dinner was heating up.  We had to force them to stop playing around and sit down to eat their dinner.

After dinner, another friend showed up at the door with her two girls.  Paul now had an audience of 4 little girls.  He started playing the guitar and singing. All the girls danced crazily around the living room.  He would stop, mid-song and yell "DEAD BUG!" The girls would instantly drop to the floor and flail their arms and legs in the air.  This went on for hours.

As midnight approached, we turned on the TV to have "Dick Clark"(I don't think it was him, but whoever it was) give us the countdown.  Paul and the girls went into the kitchen to get their pots and spoons.  With the TV full blast, Paul and the girls stood in the front yard and anxiously waited for the last 10 seconds.  Then it was time, at the top of their lungs they yelled out the last 9 seconds of the year.  At the strike of midnight, Paul and his gang of elementary school girls yelled "Happy New Year!" and ran around the front yard banging their pots. 

Paul decided that the celebrating should continue and loaded the four girls into my jeep, seat belted them in and took them around the neighborhood.  When they found a house that looked like it's occupants were asleep, he would put the car in park, the girls would get out of their seatbelts, stick their heads out the sunroof and scream "Happy New Year!" at the top of their lungs.  They would quickly jump back into their seats, click back into their seatbelts and search out their next victim.  As I sat in the house with the girl's mothers, we could hear their exclamations as they traveled from house to house.  It was the first time I saw her smile and it didn't seem forced. I was so glad I had met and married this goofy man.

I am happy to report that she got pregnant again and had another beautiful daughter.  It has been several years since that NYE, but those girls never forgot their night with "Crazy and Fun Uncle Paul".

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Better to give than receive.

I have Tree Butchers in my backyard cutting down a 4-story tall Redwood's noisy work and the dogs think that these men are going to turn their chainsaws on us, so they keep barking and whining. I can't sleep, so I thought I would share a little bit of what I got/gave for Christmas, show you how awesome Mr. Misha is and get your thoughts on gift giving and recieving!
As a little kid, Christmas was all about family, food and presents. As a teen, it became just another day in my angst riddled life. As a young adult and new nurse, I started to get into Christmas again. I had the funds to buy presents. I had a home of my own to decorate, an address to send Christmas cards from. Unfortunately, I also had a job that required me to work on holidays. The holidays were better, but it just wasn't as great as it had been when I was a kid.

Then I met Mr. Misha and it came full circle, once again was about family, food and presents. But instead of being about
getting presents, it became about giving them. I love buying for all of the nieces and nephews. I like finding something his mother will love. I like the look on Paul's face when he opens his gift. This year, I got him ...

Ibanez V Series V70CE Dreadnought Cutaway Acoustic-Electric Guitar


He loved it! He opened it on Christmas Eve, and of course...his family wanted a song.

My filming, Polish translating and movie editing techniques leave much to be desired,
but you get the idea. A good time was had by all.

Because I don't like to open presents in front of everyone, Paul gave me my present when we were at home, just us and the pooches. It was a musically themed Christmas for the Misha's, cuz I got this:

So now my instrument collection now consists of all of this:

I wonder where one goes for adult triangle/tambourine/guiro/cowbell/percussion egg lessons? What I lack in rhythm and technique...I make up for in enthusiasm!

Mr. Misha also gave me a 1GB memory card for my camera. I won't go through every gift exchanged, but I have to show you one more....

In an effort to get me to clean more, my mom gave me these really cool rubber gloves.


So are you weird like me and get embarrassed opening your presents in front of everyone?

Do you tear open the wrapping or carefully unwrap your gifts?

Whaddya get from Santa? For Channukah?

What was your favorite gift you gave?

Is it better to give or recieve?

Sunday, December 23, 2007


'Twas the night before Christmas at Misha's place,
She readied for work with a frown on her face.

For she had to be a nurse on this Christmas Eve,
and go help those pregnant ladies,
PUSH and then Breast-feed.

Mr. Misha is in Sacto with his Polish Familia,
celebrating the tradition known as Wigilia.

The pooches' stockings were hung by the TV with care,
In hopes that Santa Paws soon would be there;


Our furry children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Snausages danced in their heads;


Finally ready for work, Misha grabbed her jacket,
She knocked over a lamp and made quite a racket.

But some heard her say as she raced into the night,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"


Merry Christmas
Misha, Paul,
Mimi the Cocker Spaniel and Harley the Pug!
(My apologies to Clement Clarke Moore.)

Tuesday, December 04, 2007


So, I have to be back at work in less than 7 hours. I can't sleep and I am having a muscle spasm on one side of my back and it is really fucking annoying. While I am waiting for the drugs to kick in...

Here is a picture of my dogs:
Mimi, The Cocker Spaniel and Harley, The Pug.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Here is Mimi sleeping with Mr. Misha:

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Harley is not a tranquil sleeper,
here is some video:
(Turn up your volume, LOUD)

Check out this video: zzz

That's it. I just wanted to share that ...I am off to bed!

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

PANIC! (on the airplane)

Mr. Misha and I had been wanting to visit Las Vegas for quite sometime. But being of the fair-skinned and squishy persuasion (we don't tolerate desert sunshine and heat well), we had to wait until the fall. When we found out that two other couples we dig were going on Veteran's Day weekend, we decided to book our trip.

The day before we were set to leave, our friend and adopted "Noni", Babe, passed away. Paul and I really didn't feel like partying in Vegas. I checked to see if we could postpone our flight and hotel reservations. Changing the plane problem. Changing the room reservations, no such luck. So we talked with Babe's family and they told us to go. They reminded us that Babe loved traveling, gambling, cocktails and a good time. They told us she would be pissed off and would quite possible haunt us if we didn't go and have a good time. We decided to go and party in Babe's honor.

I woke up early Friday morning with puffy eyes, lingering tears and a headache after Thursday's events. I finished packing, showered and dressed and then headed to

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

for my usual drink. I decided to get Mr. Misha some coffee and a snack too. He likes the egg salad sandwiches from Starbuck's,

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

so I picked one up along with a butter croissant for myself. I got home, woke him up and we had our breakfast together. We drove to Erika's house. She was going to drive us to the airport and then patrol the greater Sacramento area for the weekend riding in the "Misha-mobile".

Erika dropped us safely at the airport and we checked our bags and headed through airport security. All of a sudden, Paul didn't feel good. He said his stomach was upset and wanted some meds for it. I went and bought some water and tums. He took them, along with some pepcid I had in my purse. I was thinking I could nip this ailment in the bud. He seemed okay as we boarded the plane.

As soon as we reached cruising altitude, something happened to my husband. He looked pale, he started to sweat, he kept clenching and unclenching his left hand. He told me he was nauseous. I started to freak out. These symptoms, added with his family history of cardiac problems......made me think he was having a heart attack. I took his pulse, it seemed fine. But there was no way to be sure without putting him on a cardiac monitor. I didn't want to panic the flight attendant, so I just waited. Paul just kept looking paler and paler. He said he had to go to the bathroom. The other guy in the row and I got up and let him out. It seemed like he was in the bathroom forever. Our aisle-mate tried to distract me with small talk. It turns out he is the stage manager for a Ska Band called Reel Big Fish. He was a really nice guy and offered to go and check on Mr. Misha for me. As he got up to go check on him, Paul was on his way back to his seat.

He sat down and seemed okay for a moment. Then he grabbed the airsickness bag and hurled. I have to say, my husband is the best airplane puker in the whole world. He did it silently, with no spillage and sealed the bag quickly so no one smelled it. I was still really scared, but proud of my husband's stealth-puking abilities. The RBF dude kindly got the attention of the flight attendant, who gave us a garbage bag and some extra airsickness bags. Paul thanked him with an apologetic look on his face and RBF dude replied; "Dude, no worries. I travel with a band. I have seen it all."

Paul continued to look like shit. He continued to clench and unclench his left hand. I knew that airplanes were outfitted with AEDs (Automated Electrical Defibrillator) and you need some room to use one of those things. I had no idea where I was going to find the space!

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

                       Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket
The last 20 minutes of the flight were scary. We would be landing at Long Beach International Airport for a 1 hour layover. I just wanted to get him off the plane. I knew if I could get him on land, I could get paramedics to him quickly. I also knew that we had family in southern California, so if I had to get him to a hospital, I would have some family support.

We landed and de-planed. I got Paul situated in a quiet area and went to inquire about a first aid station, local hospitals and changing our flight. Paul continued to puke in the barf bags I got on the plane. He didn't want to go to the hospital (which is quite common for someone having a heart attack). I tried to convince him that he needed to be seen by a doctor. He wouldn't have any of it. He said he just wanted to get to our hotel room in Vegas and lay down. While Paul went to the bathroom, I changed our flight for a later one and texted our friends to tell them we would be late or might not be there at all.

When he came back from the bathroom, he told me not only was he still puking...but now had problems down south too. I instantly felt relieved. He seemed a bit annoyed that I was happy that he had diarrhea. I told him that the added symptom reassured me that he was not having a heart attack, but probably food poisoning. I was relieved. I medicated him with some anti-nausea medication, some Immodium and some Tylenol. I figured he would be safe to fly in a few hours.

The flight to Vegas was uneventful, thank goodness. We rescued our baggage that had arrived 6 hours before us and headed to our hotel. Paul still wasn't feeling great....but I was pretty sure he would be okay. I was also pretty sure that he would never eat another egg salad sandwich from Starbucks.

Stay tuned for the next Vegas blog post tomorrow.

If you ever find yourself in a similar situation...
here is some info.

Heart Attack

Each year over a million people in the U.S. have a heart attack. About half of them die. Many people have permanent heart damage or die because they don't get help immediately. It's important to know the symptoms of a heart attack and call 9-1-1 if someone is having them. Those symptoms include

* Chest discomfort - pressure, squeezing, or pain
* Shortness of breath
* Discomfort in the upper body - arms, shoulder, neck, back, stomach
* Nausea, vomiting, dizziness, light-headedness, sweating

Food poisoning


Food poisoning is the result of eating organisms or toxins in contaminated food. Most cases of food poisoning are from common bacteria like Staphylococcus or E. coli.


The symptoms from the most common types of food poisoning generally start within 2 to 6 hours of eating the food responsible. That time may be longer (even a number of days) or shorter, depending on the toxin or organism responsible for the food poisoning. The possible symptoms include:

* Nausea and vomiting
* Abdominal cramps
* Diarrhea (may be bloody)
* Fever and chills
* Weakness (may be serious and lead to respiratory arrest, as in the case of botulism)
* Headache


You will usually recover from the most common types of food poisoning within a couple of days. The goal is to make you feel better and avoid dehydration. Drink any fluid (except milk or caffeinated beverages) to replace fluids lost by diarrhea and vomiting. Children should be given an electrolyte sold in drugstores. Don't eat solid foods until the diarrhea has passed, and avoid dairy, which can worsen diarrhea.

If you have diarrhea and are unable to drink fluids (for example, due to nausea or vomiting), you may need medical attention and intravenous fluids. This is especially true for young children. If you take diuretics, you need to manage diarrhea carefully. Talk to your doctor -- you may need to stop taking the diuretic while you have the diarrhea. Medications should NEVER be stopped or changed without discussing with your doctor and getting specific instructions.

For the most common causes of food poisoning, your doctor would NOT prescribe antibiotics. Antibiotics can actually prolong diarrhea and keep the organism in your body longer.

If you have eaten toxins from mushrooms or shellfish, you will need to be seen right away. The emergency room doctor will take steps to empty out your stomach and remove the toxin.

Expectations (prognosis) 

Full recovery from the most common types of food poisoning usually occurs within 12 and 48 hours. Serious complications can arise, however, from certain types of food poisoning.


Dehydration is the most common complication. This can occur from any of the causes of food poisoning.

Thursday, November 08, 2007

A Long Goodbye. (updated)

Originally posted on Thursday November 8th @ 11 am PST.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket
This is Cornelia. But no one calls her that. She was the youngest child in her family, so everyone just calls her "Babe". Her parents are from Northern Italy. "So far north, we are practically Swiss!" as she would say.  Her parent's immigrated to the US and settled on the coast of Northern California.  Her family struggled through the depression and Babe left school in her early teens to work.  She cooked for the cowboys at the ranch where her older brothers worked. Babe married in her late teens and had two children, a girl and then a boy.  Her daughter had two children; both of them are good friends. Her grandchildren have given her three beautiful granddaughters. Babe outlived two husbands, her son and all of her siblings except one of her sisters. 

How do I know all of this?

Well, for the past 4 years she has been my neighbor.  Her family bought the duplex next to Babe's so she could have someone she knew to keep an eye on her.  It just happened to be at the time when Paul and I got engaged and were looking for a place to live.  It was a good deal for both parties and Paul and I moved in about 2 hours after her granddaughter got the keys. For the most part, it was a pretty easy gig.  Until this year. 

After 70+ years of living on her own and by her own rules, Babe's mind started to give out on her.  It started off with harmless absent-mindedness that is to be expected in an octogenarian and escalated to where she could not be left alone. When Babe stopped driving, one of the things she really missed was breakfast at IHOP.  When my husband Paul found this out, he set out to remedy that.  That started our somewhat weekly "Breakfast with Babe". 

I would get off work in the morning and stop by Babe's to see if she was up.  Most of the time, not only would she be up, but she would be dressed, lipstick on, hair combed, purse on her lap and cane in her hand and sitting in her chair waiting. I would wake up Paul and then go get the car. Paul would walk Babe to the car and get her buckled in the front seat and we would take off.  

When we would arrive, Paul would open her door and help her get out.  Seeing him dote on her and help her was so sweet.  She loved the attention and it made Paul feel good too.  When we would get into IHOP, we were immediately greeted.  The hostess, the wait staff, and the bus staff...they all knew Babe by name. Despite that she could not remember most things, she knew all of their names too. They all welcomed her with hugs and kisses.  Paul immediately dubbed Babe, "The Duchess of IHOP".  It didn't matter how many people were waiting for a table, we were always seated immediately.  

After a few times there, they knew our preferences too.  We wanted to sit at a table, not a booth.  Babe would have coffee, Paul a Diet Pepsi and water for me until I made up my mind.  Babe would have the "International Passport" with Swedish Pancakes and Lingonberries. Paul would have the Spinach and Mushroom omelet with griddlecakes. I was always the hold-up; I never found my regular dish. 

While we ate, Babe would tell us stories about her life. The same stories, OVER AND OVER.  Paul and I can recite the directions to her parent's hometowns. We know the stories of her romance and married life with her first husband. We can tell you all about her life on the farm, her son who loved to swim and how wonderful her granddaughters are.

The trip home from IHOP was pleasant and usually was capped off with Babe trying to pick up on Paul.  My favorite Babe pick up line was: "Next time, I will pay for breakfast! Or...Paul, you and I could work it out in trade". Paul would just smile, let her take his arm as he walked her home and then give her a kiss on the cheek before he left.

We haven't gone to IHOP with Babe since September.   We tried to go last week, but she wasn't up to it.  Father Sean came and gave Babe The Sacrament of the Sick yesterday.  The hospice nurse is coming in a few hours.  The fact that Babe is passing away isn't surprising, she is 86.

I just wish we could have had one more "Breakfast with Babe".

UPDATE, Thursday 11/8 @ 2pm PST:Babe just passed away a few hours ago, peacefully in her sleep.

Thanks to all of you for your kind words. Please keep her family in your thoughts over the next few days.

Friday, October 19, 2007

Meat and Weapons...The Californians enlighten the New Englanders!

So, I made friends with this chick that I had "met" via Mr. Jones' blog. Her comments were funny and I think she thought mine were too, so we became friends on the myspaces. She lives all the way on the other side of the USA
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket
in a little state called Rhode Island.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket
(I had to show you the close up of the state, that is how small it is!)

We sent messages and comments back and forth, subscribed to each others' blogs and harassed Mr. Jones together. That is how I became friends with Leah.

I have self-diagnosed Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, OCD. Unfortunately, my OCD doesn't make my house clean and organized. It does make me compulsive about my calendars. So, when I planned our recent trip to Boston, I compulsively noted it in all of my calendars, including the one on my myspace page. So Leah was checking out my page and saw that I was heading east...her neck of the woods. So she sends me a message and says something like "I am only a few hours from there!" So we message back and forth, I check with the bride, the groom and Mr. Misha to find out what night would be best to arrange for us to meet. We decide on a date and wait for it to be Saturday, October 6th.
The night before the big meeting....Mr. Misha and I were at a wedding. There was an open bar, it was really hot and humid...I got a little intoxicated. We spent all day Saturday in the hotel room ordering room service, pizza and watching a Law and Order marathon. Around 5pm, we started to feel like it was possible to venture out. Via email and cell phone calls we firmed up our plans with Leah and her friend, Matt. We decided to meet at a place called Midwest Grill, in Cambridge.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Frommer's Review:
As soon as you open the door of the Midwest Grill, the aroma of garlic and meat starts your mouth watering. Distractions abound: personable waiters, lively music, the salad bar-like selection of side dishes (superb potatoes, black-bean stew, salads, olives, and rice). But you can't ignore the scent of meat juices dripping onto an open fire. Finally, here come the waiters, bearing the long, swordlike skewers of meat that make up rodizio, or Brazilian barbecue. They slice off portions of perfectly grilled pork, lamb, or beef, as you help with salad tongs. They return with sausage, chicken, and even chicken hearts. Take a break and check out the gregarious families, voracious students, and other carnivores (there's also a vegetarian plate), then flag down a circulating waiter and dig in again.

Some other pretentious Dude's review:
The focus of the Midwest Grill is churrasco rodizio -- roughly, "rotating barbecue." In this year of interminable, globe-straddling menus, there's something refreshing about a restaurant built around not just a single cuisine, but a single dish. Though "single" may be the wrong word: the churrasco is really a cornucopia all its own, an array, a profusion, an endless parade of . . .Meat. Oh, man. Vegetarians be warned. Seven kinds of meats, minimum, turn on huge motorized spits in the restaurant's open kitchen; order the rodizio, which the menu cheerily refers to as the "Brazilian BBQ Banquet", and each of the rotating swords will, in turn, be lifted from the rotisserie, carried deftly to your table, and carved onto your plate. And then the cycle begins again. You can request skewers, too: ask for pork and you'll get pork. All night long.

For the grillmaster, a churrascaria is a balancing act. Keeping the right amount of meat on the cusp of readiness requires close attention to diners' tastes, and a constant eye on the coals. The proprietors -- Brazilian transplant Gilmar Pinto, former owner of Allston's Café Brazil; his brothers Marcelo and Gilnei; and their Portuguese partner João Pinto (no relation) -- pull the trick off with dexterity. The meat arrives with a uniformly crisp surface and a moist interior. Most of it is marinated in wine, vinegar, salt, and pepper; sirloin is rubbed with sea salt, and lamb is studded with garlic. The only exception we found were chicken hearts, which came on a sinister-looking double spit.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

I got into the shower to scrub the booze smell out of my skin. When I went to use the hotel's hair didn't work. Argh! I slicked back my mop of Chaka Khan hair with a bunch of straightening products and thre
w it in a ponytail. I woke Mr. Misha, he showered and we went down to the lobby to get a cab. It took forever. I was so worried we were going to be late.

Eventually, the cab arrived and we headed off to Cambridge. The cab driver dropped us off in front we were late. Mr. Misha and I looked around, we didn't see our friends. We decided to have a smoke. We looked in the front window and saw it, just like our friends and my travel book had described:


Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

After our cigarette, I called Leah on her cell. She and Matt were running late too (and she couldn't find a bathroom), so Mr. Misha and I had a few cocktails. By the time our friends arrived, we were feeling pretty good. The girls hugged and the men shook hands. Then we sat down at our table, ready to eat. The waitress came by and explained how their establishment worked. In a thick Portuguese accent she told us; "You go to the bar, there is hot bar and cold bar. You get side dishes you want to eat. Then you sit, men come by with meat. You take what you want. When you need break, you take this sign and turn it over. When you want more meat, turn it back to other side. That is how it work. You need more drink, you tell me. Okay?"She then handed us a laminated card. One side was green and in English and Portuguese it said something like; 'Yes, please bring us all of your sword-roasted meats so we can gorge ourselves silly!' The other side was red and all I remember is that is said; "BASTA!" (I really wish I had taken a picture of this card, dag-nabbitt!)

We head over to the side dish bar and choose some food. There were salads, beans, rice, fruit, veggies, etc. We then headed back to our table and waited for the men with swords to come.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

( You can see the hot and cold bars in the background of this picture!)

They came in a wave; men with beef, then pork, then chicken wrapped in bacon (Shout out to Eleanor!), sausages (both Kielbasa and Linguisa), chicken hearts (only Leah was brave enough to eat those) and then they had these yummy rolls warmed over the fire and basted with garlic butter. It was fabulous! At one point, Matt looked over at Leah and said something like: "I can't believe that we had to meet people from California to find a place that showcased MEAT AND WEAPONS!"
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

(This is not me, Leah, Matt or Mr. Misha. I don't know who this woman is!)

So we ate, and ate, and then we talked and then ate some more. Finally, we could eat no more. We turned our card over and said "BASTA". The Midwest Grill had won.

While we digested, we chatted and Matt started talking about some drink called a "cement mixer". It sounded gross to me, but Mr. Misha wanted to try one. We said good-bye to our Portuguese bartender, paid our tab and started to walk around in Cambridge.

We figured that since it was a college town, we would be able to find a bar easily. Yeah, not so much. Apparently, we were in the non-party and unintelligent part of Cambridge. We walked and walked. We came upon a bar, only to find out it only served beer and wine. When we came upon another bar, we asked the guy at the door if they served "Full Bar". He said; "No, it's not too crowded." Leah and I snorted with laughter, Mr. Misha said: "No. Dude, what we mean is that do you serve drinks other than beer and wine?" The Fulbright Scholar stated that they did and asked to see our IDs. Mr. Misha and I handed him our California IDs and he said that he needed a second form of ID because we were from out of state. Well, Leah didn't have anything but her Rhode Island ID, so we left the Fulbright Scholar and set out to find another place to drink.

And that is when we found this place:
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

We bellied up to the bar, cement mixers for the boys and oddly decorated beers for the girls.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Matt brought the drinks to us with a devilish grin.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

A cement mixer is: a shot of Bailey's Irish Cream and a shot of limejuice. One puts the Bailey's in one's mouth and holds it. Then one adds the lime juice. The concoction reacts, the Irish Cream curdles and then you swallow it. (Sounds great, doesn't it?)

Well, Mr. Misha was not prepared for the volume expansion that takes place when the two ingredients are mixed and I thought he was going to spew.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

He didn't and decided he wanted another one.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

This time, Leah joined in on the fun!

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

and Matt was nice enough to show us the beautiful results of the Bailey's/Lime reaction...

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

After the "Cement Mixer Experience" it was time to go outside.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

It was also time to take more pictures, so Erikatt would not get mad at me!

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

We then walked around looking for a different bar. The Druid was not our style, there was nowhere to sit, it was really small and it was a bit snobby. After eating all of that meat, we needed a kick back, plus-sized bar to relax in. We couldn't find one.

So, tired, full and a little tipsy...we decided to call it a night. Mr. Misha hailed a cab for our new "real life" friends.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

We hugged and promised to stay in touch. And off went LeeLee Lewinski and Matook...

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

 A great time was had by all!

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Only in America

Last Tuesday, I went to Boston for a week. Mr. Misha and I flew across the country for the wedding of two very dear friends, Sam and Amy.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

I was trying to think of how to tell the story of these two.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Their wedding took place in Boston. Home of Ben Franklin and Paul Revere and where the colonists rebelled against England and tossed their tea into the harbor.

Their romance began in Holland. Home of hash bars, Ann Frank's house, Van Gough, tulips, windmills and wooden shoes.

Sam is of Sikh Eastern Indian desent, but British born.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Amy is of Portuguese and Irish descent and is Boston born.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

They were married last Friday by a lawyer wearing a kilt.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Amy's Maids of Honor were her two sisters: her identical twin, Meg and her little sister, Maeve.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Sam's best men were a big sweaty Polish man from California

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

and a tall, not as sweaty, Italian man from California. 

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket
A good time was had by all.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

There were tears of Joy.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

There was dancing amongst the young,

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

and the young at heart!

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Some danced better than others...

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

The party went on through the night. A blend of different cultures, different religious beliefs, young and old, east and west, liberal and conservative, tipsy and sober. All of these people brought together by their love for a couple. Celebrating their union as the Red Sox beat the Angels in Game 2, just a few blocks away. Everyone had a great time.

Congratulations Sam and Amy!

Thank you for letting Paul and I be a part of such a wonderful event.

Here is some video of me and Michelle channeling our inner Aretha!