F*** you, Universe.

Ah, the naïveté. The sheer, earnest silliness of a woman who thought she would actually get those two days alone with her husband. What the hell was I thinking? I sure wasn’t thinking that the universe was a larger scale version of the Chinese government, cracking down on dissidents chafing for a little freedom.

Alright, enough of the hyperbole. So we were driving along I-70 on a beautiful sunny afternoon on our way to Vail, excited as could be about our romantic getaway. The car was packed with everything we needed for a great trip, including a lovely gift from my friend of wine, cheese, chocolate, even coffee. Halfway to Vail, the phone rang. It was R’s sister. She had started puking. And puking. And puking some more. We needed to come home. We came home, and she and her fiancé checked into a hotel where she could be horribly sick in peace, such as it was. Then, of course, he came down with it, too, so they were out of commission until Saturday.

Yes, of course I feel terrible for them! Their trip to Colorado was pretty much ruined, and believe it or not they came out because they genuinely wanted to spend their time with our two small boys, God love ‘em. But guess who else I feel REALLY, REALLY sorry for? I mean, seriously. First our trip to New York was scuppered, and now this. I couldn’t even go back to work and save the vacation days, since our nanny had headed to California on her own vacation (which apparently was an absolute blast, yay, glad someone had a good time).

On the upside, neither my kids nor I caught this nasty bug, and I was bummed out enough I lost a couple of pounds. Just call me Pollyanna!

Meanwhile, maybe I am deceiving myself because I’m the mama, but just look at these two. Are they not adorable? I’ll answer for you – yes! They are!

Away, away!

Oh, I’ve been around, but I’ve just been a little antisocial. I’ve spent the last week or two just being 41 and that’s been enough to keep me occupied. Well, that and eating cake, shopping, drinking and dining out with friends, picking up toys… all that. But I’ve noticed there’s a general lack of posting on most of the blogs I read right now anyway, so everybody else is also clearly occupied with all the more fascinating things in life.

This promises to be a pretty good week (knock on wood). Family is visiting and has graciously agreed to watch our whippersnappers while we head up to Vail for a couple of nights. Vail! Alone! A husband, a fireplace and me! Since our trip to NYC over Christmas was snowed out, this is the first opportunity we’ve had to spend a night without our kids, which means it has been TWO YEARS since we have spent a night without our kids. Well, wait, there was the one night in Charlotte over Christmas, but I was sick and just slept for 12 hours straight so I’m going to say that doesn’t count. So, yes, TWO YEARS. We are due for this.

As part of this little getaway, I think we might get in a little cross-country skiing. I’m trying to say that all casual-like, as if it’s something I do on a regular basis and at which I am skilled. Not so much – I tried it once about 6 years ago, and that’s pretty much the extent of it. In fact, that is almost the extent of all my snow-going escapades: a couple of snowshoeing “adventures” (read: slogging through knee-deep snow, bitching all the way), two ski trips before the age of 14, and one attempt at snowshoeing at age 34 that resulted in the sorest abs I have ever had and a probable concussion. So, you’re not dealing with the most snow-loving of ladies here. Still, my husband loves him some snow, so I am going to slap on a big ol’ smile and give it a shot. Given my circumstances in life, I am expecting to simply relish the quiet of being out in nature without someone practicing his standing skills on my legs.

Going nowhere...? Please?

This morning I wanted to move to nowhere (with an airport). As I thought about it, I realized I also wanted nowhere to have plenty of cool restaurants and bars, so maybe I didn’t really want to go nowhere after all, but I did have a reason for thinking I did. NPR was a real drag this morning. First there was Mitt Romney selling himself in his Ken doll voice, by proclaiming that Obama has been such a failure. I drove along, repeating, “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you” as Mr. Romney blatantly lied about what Obama has been doing, but it just wasn’t good for my blood pressure. That story was followed by a piece on “militainment,” a term someone has coined for the military’s increased use of entertainment as a recruiting tool. Apparently the Army put out a video game called “American Army” that allows players to enjoy themselves on a Thursday afternoon by creeping around sandy corners and blowing the heads of other folks. This has evolved into the military’s most successful method of recruitment.

Well, what does that say about society? Nothing I really want to be a part of, or have my children be a part of. Don’t get me wrong, I am not maligning the concept of a military. No, I’m maligning a culture that thinks it’s cool to sit around firing video guns at video people and then think that translates into an opportunity to go play fucking Rambo in the desert. It’s pathetic. It’s pathetic (but predictable) that the military preys on dumb Americans in this fashion, and it’s pathetic that young Americans are so stupid as to be taken in my the timeless propaganda of the military machine.

I’m also maligning a culture that thinks Mitt Romney, or Sarah Palin, or John McCain, or most other vocal Republican politicians are anything but poison for this country. It’s my exhaustion with the never-ending political cycle, and always feeling so angry and disbelieving that all these people truly exist, that also makes me want to escape to a nice mountain meadow somewhere. My family and I would frolic in the wildflowers; Thomas and I could nap together in the sun. Of course, I won the lottery so I can go get some shade in my incredible modern home designed by none other than my beloved husband – and I don’t have to deal with the outside world unless I want to hop a jet to Paris, where I will stay only long enough to soak up the good stuff and remain willfully ignorant of a;; the problems there.

I’m thinking I’ll swing by the Unsafeway after work and pick up a lottery ticket. Nobody ever wins buying a ticket in the lobby convenience store of an office building; it’s got to be from a grocery or liquor store somewhere in Sad Sack, USA. If I really want to up my chances, I’ll go in on it with a couple of factory workers or something, or some young guys signing up to join the army.