Friday, June 12, 2009

I heart San Francisco

Where to start, where to start. Last month I turned 46. Celebrated in style, too. Went to San Francisco with Missys R., S., and P. Five glorious days with three of my favorite women (Missy K. will be here next month, so you KNOW that's going to be a fun week!). From the moment we arrived in SF, it was giggles and give-me-a-belly-ache laughter.

As I've said before, the energy between the four of us is amazing. We've been friends for over fifteen years now and as we've matured, I'd like to say our humor has with us but um, nope. We do have the maturity level of a 13 yr. old boy. Dirty, dirty, dirty. I'll just hi-lite a few of my favorite moments:

Missy R. arranged for two days of private tours. Wow! What a treat for us. Our driver, Arnold (you can call him Arn but not Arnie, which of course, we immediately wanted to do) was the perfect choice to drive us around. Being trapped in a car with four women over forty with lots of inside jokes, constant teasing, veiled insults - it's not easy. Arnold joined right in and added a few jokes of his own. He even suggested a place in Yountville where I could finally find my precious - brioche bread - and we added that to our Napa tour. I was kind of a baby on that tour, I admit. The constant in and out of the big GMC was hurting me, I hadn't fully recovered from the plane ride, I was up more than I should have been (I HATE having to stop the fun while I elevate my leg) - well, it was too much for me. So instead of getting to visit a few more wineries, I chose to do a driving tour. The girlies are such good sports that no one pointed out that a Napa tour should involve visiting more than one winery. And that's why I love these girls. They let it be about me - which, of course, is that way it should be since it was my birthday week but still, that was a very nice thing for them to do for me. By the way, did you know when you call those automated direction things on your cell phone and put it on speaker, that if one of your passengers yells "HOLY CRAP!" at the exact moment the automated directional thingy is speaking, it will actually respond with, "I'm sorry, will you please repeat the city name?" We didn't either, but it does because we did.

We had lunch at Tra Vigne. The food was fantastic and we all shared - well, except Missy P., since she doesn't "do meat" anymore. Missy S. ordered this fantastic braised rabbit and I thought Missy P. was going to fall over. "You're going to eat a bunny? Really?" Missy S. was calm and said, "YES. That's what it's bred to do - feed me." Or words to that effect. Missy P. still eats fish and shellfish. What's that called, a pescitarian? I don't understand all the different levels of vegetarianism. It's like a video game. Level one, no red meat. Level two, no chicken. Level three...you get the idea. At least Missy P. is the first one in line to eat desserts. I love that about her - whenever I shout "chocolate" she goes, "Where?!" We bought (okay, Missy R. did) some lovely baked goods at Bouchon Bakery in Yountville. To quote another Arnold, "I'll be back!"

When the four of us are together, the biggest problem is that we act as if food is not available to us in our home towns so we must hunt and gather as much grub as possible. Example, Patrick, our driver from the airport, pointed to an area where on Saturdays they have a gourmet farmers market. We all perked up and someone said, very excitedly, "A farmers market!!" I know, like we don't have fresh fruit at home. What's even more perplexing is that we still insist on buying food and bringing it back to the hotel - so we can snack later. We never eat as much as we buy and end up feeling guilty for throwing it away. This trip, however, we did gather up the leftover food and drink that was still edible and packed it. I brought mine home and said, "Look Mom! Bread from a bakery in Yountville! It's so good!" I found a way to bring home leftovers and turn them into presents!!

We've been friends for so long that discussing our bio breaks (a new phrase courtesy of Arnold) is casually brought up in any conversation. There are no rules anymore, no boundaries. Farting, snoring, drooling - all were discussed many times during the trip. At one point, Missy R. and I silently applauded when one of the other Missys (I'm not telling which one) went into the guest bathroom and farted REALLY loudly. Missy R. and I didn't even flinch - just looked at each other, raised our eyebrows and applauded. Now THAT's sisterly love!

There were a lot of things that happened on this trip but I think I'll keep them where they belong: as treasured memories. Some things need to be kept close to the heart, you know? These three women: Missys P., R., and S., hold a special place in my life. I am truly blessed to call them my friends.

(Oh, Missys P. and S., I have LOTS of pictures of the "so you think you can dance-off" and Missy R. has video. I will be saving those for future gatherings - we can all laugh and remember what a great time we had in SF. And I'm not above a little blackmail...)

3 Comments:

At 12:18 AM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

When you're a Jet ~ you're a Jet all the way! From your first cigarette to your last dying day! Didn't know any of the words until you sang it to our SF Street Punk and my honey gave me the next line. So right, I totally dig the fact that he got it in an instant.

BTW, I can't believe you mentioned the potty 'episode'! I was laughing my ass off.
I think we were both being 'hopeful' for reasons we 4 only know. BTW Part II - there is a BW still in town - the company owned ones are closed but the independent/franchise ones are still open - for now.

 
At 12:59 AM , Blogger jessi said...

Ah, I wanted to mention our favorite SF Street Punk but it was really hard to put into words. I guess it's one of those moments I want to share only with people I care about - or until I need a funny story in my blog, then all bets are off. Oh, and your honey is totally one of the girls, now - he knows that, right?

You guys found a BW? You have to tell me where or take me there later, please. We settled for In-N-Out. Good but not great.

 
At 1:11 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

It's called interpretive dance!!

 

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