“Okay, I’m glad.” That’s all she gives me, a tiny bit of flack, and it’s over.
“Can I see you this weekend, around your schedule?” I decide not to be specific, let her know I’ll work around her.
“Sure. Like I said, I have birthday-party duty on Saturday. What about Sunday?”
Score one for Reid! I’m getting a hang of this.
“Great. Happy to have Gabby come along.” She’s part of the package. I know this.
“No, Leona’s been begging her to come do some scrapbooking project.”
“Perfect. Brunch with mimosas?”
“Yes, ten?”
“Yep, I’ll grab you then.”
“Good. Thanks, Reid, for being you.”
“No, thank you for being you.”
We hang up, and I begin to think I overreacted. Maybe Andi was legitimately busy, and not giving me the cold shoulder. Like Andrea, she said she was too busy to connect.
Perhaps it’s a woman thing? When they say they’re busy, they really are busy?
Men tend to say they’re busy as an excuse. Not me, but in general. Sue me, I’ve done it a few times.
Smacking my hand into the desk, I jar myself out of my pussified thoughts and decide to go home and take a run before cracking open a beer, grilling a few New York strips, and watching ESPN. I need a healthy dose of red meat and testosterone.
Icrawl into bed on Friday night and pop open my laptop. It’s been a killer week.
I set up all the details for the Universal trip. We’re leaving the Thursday before President’s Day and plan to stay all weekend through Monday. The posts will run the first week in March, and then again in July. This is new territory for me, but something I’ve wanted for a long time. Unfortunately, I’m not doing it under the circumstances I’d hoped for—as a big-time mom blogger. But I can’t complain.
This week has also been killer with the comments. Several fires had to be extinguished among commenters. A debate broke out regarding the political affiliations of two popular bloggers, and I don’t allow politics on my site.
As I’m starting to doze, my eyes catch on the last email from Reid, and I feel guilt times a million. Remorse is putting it nicely. I’m fooling him as his girlfriend. I’m tricking him as Andrea, letting him down as someone he’s come to trust as his mentor.
Me, a mentor. That’s ridiculous in and of itself.
I smack the laptop closed, set it on my nightstand, and slip between the sheets.
Happy weekend, readers.
How goes it?
Looks like it’s going pretty well for these lovebirds.Silly SocksandMomma Loves Merenewed their vows this weekend.
Silly found his place blogging about men’s socks and shoes, eventually branching out to the toddler versions when his wife spit out a kid. It was only natural; she’d grown her own blog then. Of course, she became the online authority on family travel.
I gotta give it to these two—true-blue business people and bloggers. Each of them writes a well-written blog, and their photography is splendid.
Call the paramedics; I’m going soft. For real, I have to compliment Socksy and Momma. They’re doing a stand-up job. I may even say I admire them.
Anyway, the pair renewed their vows this weekend at the Bellagio in a beautiful ceremony held in the onsite wedding chapel. White roses lined the aisle, and a canopy of lilies surrounded them and the priest. The service was followed by a stunning dinner on the patio of Olives, the fountain spread in front of them.
Of course, Socksy Jr. was there in Dior for Kids loafers. Oh, did I mention, the Bellagio picked up the whole tab?
Do I smell something fishy? Maybe Momma is switching from family travel to couples’ travel? Could be. In fact, Vegas isn’t taking a bet on it, it’s so sure.
