Mini-Vacation, Here I Come

I'm heading up to Flagstaff this evening to spend yet another weekend with the incomparable Snark's Mistress. Normally, this type of visit would entail us holing up in her room, spending hours and hours watching Stargate SG-1 and only emerging to forage for food. But this weekend, we actually have plans to go out. To the outdoors. Outside. Where other people are. I know, I'm kind of scared, too. Hold me?

This is our last great Flagstaff hurrah before SM comes back to Phoenix for the summer, so we intend to do it right. That means that we will be doing a not-insignificant amount of shopping, quite a bit of restaurant-hopping, and some late-night gossiping. Oh, all right, I'm sure there will be some SG-1 watching in there somewhere too. We're only human, after all.

We are also planning to spend an evening with Hotass, who will coincidentally also be in Flagstaff this weekend because her boyfriend?...boy friend?....lov-ah?...significant other?...whatever you want to call him?...has a gig up there this weekend. So we will go watch his band play and hopefully get to know him well enough to decide if he's good enough for our Hotass. If we feel really inspired, we'll make little scorecards and flash them as appropriate. "Oooh, that joke fell flat! Judges' score? It looks like a 7.0 from Cymber and a disappointing 5.5 from Snark's Mistress. He's really going to have to nail this next joke if he expects to pass through to the next round." I hope he's the sturdy sort, or this could get ugly.

Of course, the thing that really concerns me about this trip is that Snark's Mistress and I both have PMS. Which means that our defenses are down and our cravings for unhealthy food are in full-swing. And while we normally are good at talking each other down from our self-destructive tendencies, when we're both hormonal, all bets are off. There has already been much talk of deep-fat fried Mexican food and insanely greasy burgers and fries. Still, if we are able to stay away from the Ben and Jerry's, I will consider it a victory. Hell, if I can come back home without gaining back the almost 10 pounds I have lost in the last two months, I will consider it a victory.








But I'm not getting out the ticker tape for the parade quite yet.