Florida Girl in Florida

I've missed you-- and you me?

It's summer vacation in Australia. We left Sydney the beginning of December, now I sit typing this email from the inside of a swank Virgin America airplane, at an approximate altitude of 30,000 feet.

This trip the jet lag was more severe. I was so tired I practically had to drag myself to Marshalls and TJMaxx. Can you imagine?

We had a New Years Day party at our house in Ft. Lauderdale, then a few days later we went to Orlando and hosted a massive reunion for our old friends from our days in the cruise business.  We have had such a wonderful time!

But now, six weeks and 28 Disney trading pins later,  all I have to show for it are the photos below and this lousy t-shirt... and actually, there's no t-shirt.

Our time in Florida (cliff notes version):




The kids ate their first Costco hot dogs, this may be obvious by my four year old's technique (note the interesting pattern on the top of his dog).



We went to Jaxsons in Ft. Lauderdale and had massive ice cream sundaes.



After having his adult teeth behind the baby ones for over eight months, we finally tied the teeth to a door and slammed it. Just kidding, we took him to my childhood dentist and they extracted them. For full effect please note the occasion appropriate t-shirt.




We buried each other.




I got REAL SLICED TURKEY from Publix, where shopping is a pleasure. It is not possible to get anything remotely like this turkey in Australia and that makes Florida Girl very sad.




We decorated the house for Christmas. Just kidding, we're quasi-Jewish and even if we weren't who has the time for this kind of Extreme Christmas Chaos?





We played Star Wars with Auntie Jill (my sister).




We got us some Mickey Mouse.


And some Pluto.


We met the super music producer Scott Storch. Ok, that's really my six year old, but here's the real one...


Too funny-- I actually know him from way back in the day, so it's cool.


And lastly, we got word that our new Rutland Manor Australian Labradoodle puppy "Andie" will be joining our family two days after our return to Sydney.  The day after she arrives Beverley Manners will be personally be coming to our house in Sydney to do some training!


Update June 2010: This is the puppy who had the congenital heart birth defect PDA, we no longer have her and to say the situation was a disaster would be an understatement.  Click link to read that drama.


The plane is about to land in Los Angeles, ciao for now!

He's Just Not that into you Dave

Before moving to Sydney I had never been to an IKEA. We had never lived around one and funny enough as soon as we moved to Australia they opened a huge IKEA near our house in Florida; we've still never been to that one.

When it's time to go to IKEA we get a babysitter, because IKEA without small children is just so so much better-- it's like a big day out for us-- Date Day.

Last time we hauled ourselves out to IKEA, we picked up a new Swedish friend named Dave. One thing led to anothr and we decided to take him home with us; he could stay in the family room-- which he did, for about a month. Then one night, I brought him upstairs. He was only supposed to be coming up for a few minutes, but from that night on he basically moved into our bedroom.

After about a month, when I realized how much Dave meant to me and how much I loved having him in our bedroom I began telling my husband that he should totally get in on the Dave action. He was all-- yeah, yeah, at some point I will. And then that day came, and he did it for a few nights, but I think it's safe to say, he's just is not as into Dave as I am.

.
Dave, I love you... and if loving you is wrong, I don't wanna be right.

Note: Dave is the table in the photo, not the man. (I don't actually know that man).

Omitted e

Whilst at USF in Tampa, FL (circa 1990) , I got myself a job working the front desk at a hair salon called "Mantrap" in the mall.

The hair stylists were a bunch of emo, drama queens with tempers that make Blair on Gossip Girl look like Mary Poppins, you know the type.

One afternoon, a stylist went all cookoo bonkers on me because I gave a walk-in client to someone else. The encounter had pushed me to my drama-in-the-workplace limit, so I did what any fed up reactionary eighteen year old would do... I said I was going to get a coke-- and never came back.

Ah, to be young again. And oh, don't tell my husband, he gets all bent when people don't give two weeks notice.

It Started With Mochi

Quote of the week:

Said by my five year old when my cute little 85 year old great, great aunt came over for dinner:

"I can't hear you because your voice is quite wrinkley."

GlassBreaker, Wine Slayer. Don't You Mess Around With Me.

GlassBreaker--WineSlayer-- heartbreaker
Don't you mess around with me.

My friend from Orlando is finally here! She has come to hang with me for the week, then is flying back to Florida with me and da boyz next week. Our whirlwind week is half over and I'm secretly hoping she'll meet an Australian guy to convince her to stay in Sydney!

And not only is my friend fun... she's also a dangerous superhero, known to a privileged few as, GlassBreakerWineSlayer. Yo, the girl has mad superpowers.

In 1992, GlassBreaker and I met selling cruises together, we sat at adjoining cubicles; the nineties was a total boom for the cruise industry, and there couldn't have been a more amazing time to have our jobs. We've probably been on about twenty or thirty cruises together. Wild cruises and wild times.

My friend arrived Monday morning, Roger Moore was on her plane and the paparazzi were camped out in the international terminal. I don't know what that little tidbit has to do with anything except that I was wondering who the old guy was-- and was unsure whether to follow suit and take a photo of him. I didn't, but whatevs.

So we took a ferry around, picked up my little duo o' chaos (the preschoolers), then headed home. I'm not sure if we had even cracked open the wine yet, when I heard a loud pop-- the kind of pop you just know can't be good.

My friend had walked straight into the floor to ceiling window next to the door and her superhero-strength knee shattered the window; and well, her superhero forehead and lips left imprints too.

We were both like-- holy fuck.

Needless to say, this is how we spent the next morning...

'
(That's not actually us, it's the glass repair men).

The glass repair guys were chuckled as they told us that most windows are broken by being walked into, and it's usually the knee that does it.

And I was feeling really bad, because I didn't want her to feel bad.
Then she told me a story... and I cheered up.

Two weeks ago in a drunken moment of excitement at a friend's house, she thought it would be awesome to test the boundaries of intoxication by going all ninja on her friend who was sitting, minding her own business, enjoying a glass of wine. In her black, mirrored kitten heels she proceeded to throw Kung Fu kicks, then end it with a roundhouse over her friend's head as a grand finale. Upon her foot's descent, the heel of her shoe actually sliced the stem of the wineglass off, sending it shattering to the ground. Meanwhile, the glass stayed perfectly in her friend's hand unscathed. She said it felt like watching someone pull the tablecloth off a set table.

I was like... damn girl, you're a glass kicking fool.

So last night in our drunken stupor, while laughing so hard we seriously could not stop, we wanted to give my readers a little taste of what you're missing by not being here.
In the spirit of the Karate Kid, here is a demonstration of her moves...





Don't worry there will be more stories about our adventures together forthcoming...