Vacation Part Deux

So, for the second half of spring break, I flew from the ABQ to D.C. where Caitie picked me up from the airport.  It was great being able to hang out with her, even for an hour.*

And after we ate several pounds of pot stickers and Oreo crazy dessert at Friday's, Caitie took me back to Matt's parents' house.  Then I realized, at 1:30 a.m., that I don't know the garage code, and that I didn't have my keys.  So Caitie and I stood outside my in-laws' house like fools for like twenty minutes while I tried every imaginable code I could think of to get into the garage.  Finally, I just called and had to wake Matt's dad up.  And I felt like quite the a-hole.

Shoot.

But all was well only hours later because I arrived along with Matt's mom (after visiting Wegman's, a heaven on earth) at their lake house.

Now, I've already talked about the lake house a number of times.  This particular trip revolved around polishing silver, eating brownies, and flipping the TV channels back and forth between HGTV and news coverage of the upcoming royal nuptials.***

Because the lake house is so chill and so relaxing, there's not usually too much to share about visiting.  It's beautiful and peaceful and you never want to leave.  And you might think that because the air is so warm that the water is also warm.  Nope.  It's not.  You might discover that after foolishly jumping in without even having dipped your feet out to test the waters.  And then you might get hypothermia and die.  Or at minimum scream, swim faster than you ever have in your life (which is a bit of a challenge because of frozen limbs), and then spend the rest of the afternoon trying to trick other people to do the same.  "Oh, it's basically like a bathtub."

One of the best parts of visiting the lake is going on sunset boat rides.  Matt's dad is a longtime lover of sunsets, and seems to be at his happiest when he's on his boat watching the sun go down.  I've got to admit, he's on to something.
 

Oh yeah, and there was lots of grilling, because Matt is the grill master who travels up and down the East Coast demonstrating his mad skillz.

Grilled wings. . .mmmmmmmmmmm. 

Well, I'd share more, but I have to go because Matt is trying to make me watch the William & Kate movie on Lifetime.  That's really a thing.


*Um, you might remember that Caitie was the other participant in the fattest of the fat contests.  Recently, a friend asked me about the "fat offs" that my friend and I used to have, wondering if we still made gluttonous trips to Golden Corral.  "No," I replied, "We're both on Weight Watchers now."  Surprise, surprise.**


**It should also be noted that Caitie is much better at Weight Watchers than I am.


***Matt is so into the royal wedding that it's not even funny.  It's all I can do to keep him from calling out of work on both Thursday and Friday, making tea and crumpets, and speaking in a British accent.  If we were people of greater means, I am confident that he would be in England right now, draped in the British flag whilst stalking Will and Kate.****


****Also, Matt wants me to tell the internet that he is not into the royal wedding but at all.  He just said that in a British accent.

R.I.P., Wine Glasses

This is why you shouldn't drink.

Or maybe this is why you should drink? 

After Matt and I got married, we had a crapload of store credit at Macy's (seriously, does anyone on the earth need 18 place settings of Fiesta dishes?).  And one thing I purchased with that store credit was these wine glasses:

I'd registered for the red wine cousins (which are all still alive, by the way, which only serves as a testament as to how rarely I drink red wine) and they're gorgeous.  But the white wine ones?  Well, the last one lost his battle tonight.  While a partially inebriated Mandy attempted to do a dance routine to Usher's "Yeah!", she accidentally smacked the wine glass to the floor.  And it shattered.  For real shattered.  Like, all over the place.  Like, "we won't be going barefoot in the house for a long while" kind of shattered.   Well, shit.

I really loved those glasses.  R.I.P., old friends.  Many a good night we've shared together.

Fortunately, my birthday is fast approaching, and these glasses are available on Amazon.  If you don't buy them, I will.

XOXO

Beth and Olivier's Wedding!

After spending approximately 30 hours in a car, drinking approximately 30 gallons of alcohol, reuniting with old friends, consuming our weight in fast food and Cherry Coke Zero, and listening to every podcast known to man--WE'RE HOME!

Horray for home and dogs, comfortable beds and powerful water pressure.

This weekend the Matt and I drove to New Jersey to attend the wedding of our friend Bethy Pooh and her Olivier. This was our first time meeting Olivier; he didn't attend our wedding because he was off doing AIDS relief in Africa. What a terrible excuse! We had a cotton candy machine, didn't he know that??

But I digress. The wedding was a whopping success. It was sincere. It was unique. It had some European flair. (Olivier's family is from Belgium.) In short, it was well worth 30 hours in a car.

Beth's veil was an heirloom from Olivier's family. It was hundreds of years old or something.

And what's a wedding without a pup? Meet Captain, the son of Olivier and Beth.

Beth was gorgeous. Beth's always been a nice lookin' gal, but usually she tries to hide it by wearing rags, looking dissheveled with her hair messed up, and eating food without utensils. (It's not Medieval Times, Beth!)

Glowing, I tell you.

As the night progressed, and so did my drunkenness, I believe I ate some of the peppers off of these centerpieces. I also ate a roll that was sitting on a table and had a bite taken out of it already. That's what mixing your alcohols will do to you!

There was some Belgian human tossing.

The favor was honey from Olivier's family's hives. Yeah, they have their own hives and bees. (I have six bottles of this honey now. Anyone have good honey recipes?)

I like looking at how she's holding him in this one.

I remember when Bethy first met Olivier, and how she called me, frantic, explaining that she thought she'd met her soulmate. And she's not an emotional sapfest girl or anything. They share common quirks and neurosis, they're both scientist doctor-type space cadets, and they're GOOFY. GOOFY GOOFY. More goofy, probably, than anyone you've ever met or will ever meet. Watching them together--dancing, talking, petting the dog--made me believe that she was right. Our Bethy found her soulmate, and his name is Olivier.

Happy marriage!

Belgians dancing below:

Matt: If there was a TV channel called "Belgian People Dancing," I would subscribe to it, even if it was $200 a month.