Some people get chocolates and flowers for Valentines.  I got a visit from the youngest member of the Bach clan instead.  Which is a good thing, because Jimmy doesn’t make me fat or make Mike’s allergies act up.

In case you were wondering why I hadn’t been blogging excitedly about Jimmy’s upcoming visit, it’s because I didn’t know about it.  The Bachs aren’t planners.  Jimmy is no exception.  He called me at 11:30 AM on Thursday asking me what airline had the cheapest tickets to Seattle.  I told him to check out the awesome deals available on Jet Blue.  Then he texted me at 3:30 pm to tell me that his flight came in at 10:30 that night.  I rushed home after work to clean.

When I mentioned this last minute trip to friends and co-workers, most people pretty much looked at me with a mixture of pity and horror.  A lot of concerns revolved around the fact that it was Valentine’s Day weekend.  This was not a big concern for me, and it was probably a relief for Mike.  I know it sounds sad and depressing, but we just don’t do Valentines.  It just doesn’t work from us.  Maybe it was that first cursed Valentines Day getaway 9 years ago that ended up in me crying in a dank motel room in Salinas while Mike tried to convince me that the bars on the window were there as an added safety feature (long story), but we just are not very good at the normal Valentines stuff. (Hence I get Silverlight applications instead of Hallmark cards.  Bah, I can’t complain, that totally made me smile).  So we spent Valentine’s night eating clam chowder with Jimmy, and it was conisderably better than if we had tried to throw together a fancy dinner at the last minute.

Besides fish and chips, we did plenty of other stuff with Jim-Jim, including a surprisingly enjoyable trip to the Pacific Science Center, where we were entertained for hours by giant furniture.

We took awesome pictures of butterflies in the amazing Butterfly Room.  (Rita, you were right.  I freaking love this place.)

And finally, when I found out that the physiology exhibit had a place where you could test your flexibility, I decided that it was the perfect opportunity to show off my bizarre flexibility and make fun of Mike.  This was basically like the stretch test that you do as part of the Physical Fitness Test in elementary school.  For individuals our age, the average length to stretch was 12″-13″.

I got 22″ because I am badass.

Mike got 6.8″.  He is not badass.  At stretching.

Jimmy’s visit was suprisingly well-timed.  We got to eat some good food, spend some time exploring the city and catch up on all the goings on in SoCal.  As much as the Bach family can be a bizarre circus in the background of my life, I am ridiculously attached to my brothers and sister-in-law, and it always feels good to have people around who really know us.