Note to self: Next time you are dog sick, do NOT play “Cut off nose to spite face”. While the “F*** You” accompanied by the middle finger and slamming of the door as you walked out into the freezing city of Hamburg with only a vague idea of where to go was sufficiently dramatic, and you are terrific at dramatic exits, it will not make a difference to anyone save that lovely bug residing in your head/chest. That lovely bug loves the freezing rain especially when you’re only wearing a corduroy jacket with a skirt and tee shirt. I won’t go into details to protect the innocent (me!) and the guilty (Sparky, of course!) but needless to say, I was cranky and Sparky had to, god forbid, work.
The night before, when we arrived in Hamburg, our hotel arrangements were completely screwed up. I almost commited violence upon the head of the hotel clerk when she told us the hotel no longer had rooms regardless of our standing weekly reservation. Did I mention it was midnight and raining? It was actually when she said she had no idea what we should do and with a bored shrug of her shoulders continued to talk on the phone to a friend about some TV program and her next cigarette break that I became Emily Gilmore and suggested that she not quit her day job because obviously night clerking was not where her talents lay. Did I mention that my witty commentary on her lack of skill did not help us AT ALL.
Yeah, I was quite the charmer on that trip.
So yesterday, after attempting normal life function on Monday and failing, I stayed down, covered up by a big fluffy blanket with the company of two cats and a husband. Sparky worked all day, sitting next to me, while I watched every single pre-teen princess movie available on Premiere. It was a good day. I knew I was still sick when Princess Diaries 2 got me all teary eyed because the script was just so deep. Not a Hillary Duff fan, so A Cinderella Story didn’t do much, but Sleepover with Alexa Vega was pretty good. Actually, any movie with a crown (except The Prince and I) is okay in my book.
Sparky not only did not debate the merits of pre-teen princess movies, he encouraged the watching and snuggled my stuffy nose when I, in my pre-teen mode said the best gift I could ever get from him was a bag of kittens and then went on to describe the type of velvet the bag should be made out of and how many kittens make up a bag of kittens (3-4 because anymore than that is just craziness). He gently put the kibosh on any ideas that I might, even if we won the lotto, receive a bag of kittens, but encouraged the thought as the Robitussen started to work.
I felt asleep dreaming of kittens. It was nice.
Not as cute as kittens, but much more realistic… Its crab season in San Francisco. Just in time for my arrival.