Purple teeth, green thumbs

So I jetted off to Sonoma, CA, for the weekend, like broke journalism students ought to do. My lovely college friend whom I have not seen in over THREE years was gettin married in the wine country oasis and I was NOT about to miss out on that.

I packed lightly for my adult prom event of the season (three dress option, two pairs of shoes and loads of other inappropriate items)and got myself on the 8am flight (public transit and all). I was seated next to a girl no more than 14 who wore a bright pink t-shirt that said "this is so messed up?" (to which she or the shirt were referring to, I'm not entirely sure) and tight, dare I say, stone-wash jeans (are those back?).

An hour into the flight pink t-shirt pulled out a late breakfast/early lunch of Reese's Peanut Butter cups and Cool Ranch Doritos. Two inches away I munched on an apple and dried fruit trail mix, feeling old and ravenous.

But...nothing makes a girl feel more sexy than a bulky, white Dodge Caliber. Ohhhh yes. Here's M showing it off (like it needs it).

Fully equipped with a few doors, roll -down windows, manual locks and a silver plastic dashboard (I'm sorry, but why aren't American-made cars doing well?), M and I were ready to hit the town.

Sonoma is GORGeous, blue sky, California beach weather by day and bone-chilling antarctic mistake by night. Hole-E crap that was cold. I, of course, was constantly scantily clad because bulky jackets did not go well with cute ruffly pink dresses and such. I made do with a wine wrap and hovered around heat lamps (clever Sonomans).

The wedding was breathtaking views, tear-jerking speeches and delicious cakes.

There was dancing and photos galore. Even a harrowing roller coaster ride up and down a mountain side.

Weave in a little John & Kate Plus 8 marathon and that is top five best weekends. I tell you, it was hard to leave. Especially hard to leave our sic ride (miss you already Caliber!).

After a fun weekend hangover and a truly depressing season opener of John & Kate (I am pre-emptively divorcing the show. It's just no fun anymore. I feel like I'm getting divorced and it is no longer cute) I decided I had to look to the future. And that future is margarita.

I told you, yes, of my baby tomato plant? Well in no less than two weeks I finally made it a home. I had hap hazardously scribbled directions from the woman who sold me the plant. I ran down the slightly indecipherable list at my local hardware store:

- A 10-12 inch container that drains. check.
- Organic plotter feed. check, more or less.
- Gardening gloves (not required but they were yellow with flowers!)
- Stakes. Stakes? Hm.
- Nylons with which to tie the stakes? Hm again.

Well. I winged it. And by winged I mean I followed the incredibly terse directions on the back of the Miracle Grow plotting feed (don't tell the tomato woman, she'll be so disappointed). The directions are a little less than helpful. They are so short and vague I'd think they were dictated via gardener hostage at gun point.





Select a pot with a drain hole. Alright, alright...I'm there.











Fill pot about 1/3 full. Uh huh, uh huh...go on







Loosen root ball. Come again? Root...ball, you say?










Add more mix; press lightly. Wait! Wait. I'm still at the root ball. OK. How lightly is too light?


Water; let drain. For the love of GOD, man, slow it down!




Like any knew mother I am riddled with anxiety. Did I over water it? Not water it enough? Is it too cold? Too alone out there on the fake balcony? Will it survive the sudden thunderstorm? Was that really the root ball?

I'm going to let it live its little life on its own, but let's be honest, something about this set up looks ridiculous:


The good news is that I finally got to use the item voted, Least Likely to Be Used Before I Leave -- The frog watering bucket!


It was a proud moment.

xoxoL

just your regular ol' weekend by the pool in Sonoma

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Septuagenarian swoon

A few weeks ago R came to visit. He arrived on a Wednesday and we had a whole FIVE days together. It was so comfortable and natural that I forgot to actually hang out with him. I had classes, a few meetings, we went to a movie with friends and before you know it - poof - he's gone. His birthday was just a few weeks before he came out and I surprised him (and me) with tickets to see Leonard Cohen at the Chicago Theater.



It. Was. Incredible. This man is, what, 75ish? UnREAL. it was amazing. He sang for more than three hours. He returned to the set with not two or three but four encores. He played the classics that I know, sing and danced to when I was a kid - The Tower of Song, Bird on A Wire, Chelsea Hotel, Everybody Knows, Halleluja, I'm Your Man, So Long Marianne, Suzanne and many more. He wove some spoken lyrics throughout the night, which could make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up they're so good.

I loved you when you opened like a lily to the heat, you see I’m just another snowman standing in the rain and sleet, who loved you with his frozen love, his second hand physique, with all he is, and all he was,
A thousand kisses deep.

Ugh. It was amazing. And he was such a gentleman. He bowed to his bandmates and to the audience after each song, making sure to take off his fedora. He introduced his band twice and they each got a solo at the end. For all the work, we gave Leonard a few standing Os.




The Chicago Theater is pretty amazing as well, perfect place to get to see a legend. But Leonard was the star so it's not right for me to even go into it.

Since then I've been all over Chicago, doing a story about a garden on the South Side and taking classes downtown and in Evanston. The spring has FINALLY come and the trees are no longer bare but budding and fantastically all shades of green.

While down at the garden I got sucked into the growing season and bought myself a tomato plant. yes! it's a little guy, barely a stem and a few leaves but it's got a good vibe, I can tell. It's sitting still in its little red keg cup out on my faux ledge waiting for that streak of 4pm sun that graces my west-facing wall. I have to get it a proper home and some other things I'm sure (already this is proving to be more high maintenance than a not so much green but inked-thumbed girl can handle). I have named it Margarita - I hoped the name would inspire it to fulfill its yummy future.

Oh yeah, and I may have killed my virtual chia pet. Right. I can't even get a real one. It's a widget on my laptop and all it needed was a little water (click the giant water drop) and the occasional hair cut (click the red and blue sign). But, no. It seemed to be too much for me. Fear not. I got another. And it's going to be awesome.

That is all. For now.
xoxoL