Frenchie

In case you were unaware (of even if you were) my main man and I have been in France for the last 12 days.  We head back stateside tomorrow and while I will miss being on vacation, I am looking forward to sleeping in my own bed, normal flush toilets, eating in restaurants that do not allow smoking and regaining some semblance of a normal life (i.e., grocery shopping, making my own healthy food and running.  And not living out of a suitcase).  

I am also looking for whittling away the lbs that were added to my waist line on this trip.

Turns out eating bread and cheese and meat, crepes, croissants and a bottle of red every day is not so good for fitting in to your skinny jeans.

But before I start a new blog series on a health regiment for after vacation (jk), let me regale you will some tales from a far.

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Mr. G and I arrive in Paris 2 weeks ago and fell in love.  It is so old and beautiful.  We immediately collapsed in our first hotel and woke the next day to explore.  

We did the quintessential tourist shit and took a million pictures.

Then we hit up the TGV and took the high speed train to Lyon. 

I think I loved Lyon even more than Paris.  It is everything I imagined it would be.  Old, romantic, delicious, lovely...ah, oui, J'adore Lyon...

Then we TGV'd it back up to Paris for a week.  

We rented a flat (and by flat I mean 1 room that was smaller than any of my dorm rooms, and it had a murphy bed and pink toilet paper) in the Latin Quarter.  Turns out we were a nice 4 block jaunt to Notre Dame.  

Très Magnifique!

We managed to play tourists again (which I am sure would embarrass my sister completely) and we explored all of the famous sights the city had to offer:

Before we came to Paris, I purchased tickets for us to go up the Eiffel Tower on Saturday night.  Our reservations were for 10:30 (yes, PM.  I nearly died).  We were looking forward to seeing the view of Paris at night and fought our fading bodies to stay awake. We killed time to stay awake until 10:30 by going to pick up groceries for the next day, we stuffed them in our backpack and carried on. We forced ourselves to have a loooong dinner in a nice neighborhood.  Even after that it was still only 9:15.  We got cocktails and sat in the park with thousands of others and took in the spectacle that is the eiffel tower at night.

Finally, it was 10:30.  We got into our special VIP line (since I had pre-bought the tickets) and were like giddy school kids (the cocktails in the park did not hurt either).  And we were immediately searched.

Remember how I told you we went grocery shopping earlier to kill time?

Of course, being in Paris, we had purchased some wine.  

As in a wine bottle.

As in, "sorry, you cannot go up the eiffel tower with glass.  And no, we will not hold your backpack for you."

So no, we did not go up the eiffel tower.  Thanks for asking.

And that sums up our trip to France!

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Happy anniversary, shnookums, I loved spending the last two weeks with you in ol' Paree.

Bubbie

Guess who's back?

It has been a couple of weeks since we have had any visitors, but last night we had a special guest.

"Hey Fucker," as Mr. G calls him, was back in business in the Goodwin pool yesterday.

Hey Fucker is the size of a cell phone.  Not too shabby.

It really is just the strangest thing.

Hope he takes good care of the house while we are away!

Cheers,

Bubbie

Modern Day Fairy Tale

Once upon a Sunday eve, a fair maiden climbed into her bed with her prince charming.  She was exhausted after a full day and said to her handsome prince, "I am so tired, but I still have to go get ready for bed.  Don't let me fall asleep without brushing my teeth or taking out my contacts."

The maiden's prince charming, the charming prince that he is, decided to help his love.

So he kicked her until she fell out of bed and crashed into her night stand, toppling her fan, alarm clock, book, and lamp onto the floor on top of her.

Romantic, huh?

Happy Monday,

Granny

Whirlwind

It has been a busy couple of weeks and until last night we have not even had time to think about our Parisian vacation next week.

There have been 10 hour workdays, get togethers with friends, bike rides, training, trip-prep, cleaning (but not enough) and so much driving.

Every weekend is filled with activities.  Every week day is filled with work and errands and dinners to cook and pools to clean. 

There are not enough runs nor enough sleep.

We are exhausted.

Paris, I cannot wait to meet you.  I will welcome this vacation with open arm.

Pooped,

Granny

Specialist my ass

Remember that time I went to see an allergist and he basically put me through hell just to tell me that I was allergic to everything and the best thing to do was avoid everything so I do not have an outbreak?  

Yeah, I am still pissed about it.

And my bill just arrived for that sadists appointment.

'SCUSE ME?????!!!!!

I owe some quack $1114 to put me through pain and then tell me a list of things I am allergic to (thank you sir, I already knew that, I wanted RELIEF, not a fucking "obvious" stamp across my forehead)?  And instead of relief I was told that I should avoid those things and wash my sheets in hot water.

Thanks for putting your mother fucking specialist degree and 12+ years of education to good work.

Fucking mother fucker.

Love,

Once again broke-ass granny

Good eats

Mr. G and I went camping this weekend and were away from our pool for a few days.  On our way back from the mountains we were joking about how many dead mice we would find floating in the pool upon our arrival (true story: I fish out about 3 dead mice a week.  Gross and weird.)

We walked out back after unloading the truck and I was about to set to work cleaning our (very dirty) pool.  I was looking into the deep end when I noticed that one of the leaves on the bottom was really big.  And looked like a lobster.

Hmmm, weird, thought I.

Wait, why is that lobster shaped leaf moving and swimming?

WAIT, WHAT THE MOTHER FUCK?

I rationally decided that it was not in fact the famous crustacean that goes so well dipped in butter.

...

Rather that it was the crustacean that gets boiled up with spices and potatoes and corn on the cob; it was a giant, mutant crawfish.

Again, I repeat, ...the fuck is going on here??

Yes, I know we live off the river.  But still, how did the crawfish get out of the river, climb the bank, go over the stone wall, cross our lawn, and then find our pool?  It is about 100 rocky, wild, feet for a crawfish to terrain.  

It is by far one of the strangest thing to ever be found in a pool, I reckon.

But, mmmmm, did he taste good boiled with creole seasoning!

(Just kidding, Mr. G saved him and brought him back out the the river.  We are not assholes.)

Back in Time

Last night we lost power just as I finished up what may be the sweatiest run of my entire life.  I was literally pouring sweat for 30 minutes still after the run.  It was hot and humid, folks.

Despite me being a hot mess and having to "clean" myself by taking a dip in our freezing cold pool (which by the way, does not in fact clean you.  Woke up this morning and my hair looks like I just walked out of the kitchen of a BK lounge.) and having to drive 20 minutes to grab overpriced wraps for dinner, Mr. G and I appreciated not having power for a night. 

Instead of sitting on our couch and mindlessly watching Hells Kitchen (Mr. G's choice), we sat outside and watched the lightening move in.  It was really just what the doctor ordered.

But I am glad we woke up with power again this morning.

Ignore my greasy hair today.

Granny