Monday was so action-packed that it simply couldn’t fit in one post, so consider yourself lucky to be getting another one.  Bonus!

After the zoo, Kat rinsed out her mouth (hopefully with some industrial-strength antibiotics) and we decided to check out some nearby petroglyphs we had read about.  It was a short drive from the restaurant where we had lunch.  I had proposed walking, but that wasn’t well received.  As usual, not following my suggestion was a really good idea- my ideas are not very well thought out, and we ended up doing a lot more walking then intended (also my fault).

To see the petroglyphs, you basically drive to the end of a dirt road and walk up to somebody’s front yard and tell them that you want to see the rocks.  We’d been told that it’s often local kids who act as guides, but we were greeted (or rather grunted at) by a pudgy, middle-aged man wearing flip flops.  I tried to communicate what we wanted to see using my mad Spanish skills, but like a lot of the people we met in Panama, I was having some major issues understanding what he was saying.  Evidently the Panamanian dialect did not come very naturally to me.

But even with the communication issues, he successfully guided us on the short walk to the petroglyphs we’d heard so much about.

At this point our guide started asking me if we wanted to see the rest.  Again, I was having trouble understanding him, but I did know he was saying something about waterfalls, and I freaking love waterfalls.  So I asked who else wanted to see a waterfall- Scott and Priscilla agreed to go, but Mary and Kat decided to stay behind and keep an eye on the car.  So we set off.

We continued along the mostly straight path for a few minutes, chatting amongst ourselves and trying to make conversation with our guide, when suddenly the clear path disappeared and our guide started sprinting up the rocky trail.  Seriously, for the next 25 minutes, Scott, Priscilla and I huffed and dripped sweat trying to keep up with our pudgy guide.  It was a a much-needed, but heavily unanticipated uphill sprint.

See my flimsy blue flip-flops?  I told you I was unprepared.  But it was really pretty!

Once we made an equally speedy trip down, we found Kat and Mary sitting in an air-conditioned car happily chatting without a single drop of sweat on them- bitches.  Once they finished laughing at us, we piled back in the car and went back to the hotel to relax and get ready for dinner.

After such an exhausting day, we decided it was time to treat ourselves and headed out to the fanciest restaurant in El Valle, La Casa de Lourdes.  Located in the only fancy resort in the area, we had been warned that it was way more expensive than anything else we’d find nearby, but came highly recommended.  Considering that it came out to about $30/person including generous pours of sangria and champagne, it was definitely worth it.

Sangria goodness!

Mary and Scott!

america's next top models

mary and i had grilled corvina- pretty much the national fish of panama. sooo yummy.

scott had steak. wrapped in bacon, of course. and he marco-ed the shit out of it.

there are few things in the world more entertaining the mistakes that come from using the self-timer on a camera. mary thought the picture had already been taken. AWESOME!

It was a fantastic last dinner in El Valle!  It was hard to imagine leaving this cute little town, but the next morning we packed everything up and made our way back to civilization.  The drive was a total bitch, and may have included certain individuals having to pee on the side of the road while we were stuck in traffic, but we successfully made it to the airport and catch the flight to our next destination- Bocas del Toro!

Ugh.  I really really really hate small planes.

We started our third day in Panama the way you should really start every day in a tropical climate- with a fruit plate.

Watermelon, pineapple, oranges, bananas, and papaya that actually tastes good because it’s picked when it’s RIPE- all surrounding an “exquisite” cheese sauce.  Heaven.  We went through 2 fruit plates at every breakfast in El Valle.

Also heaven?  Fresh eggs that come from chickens that actually walk around and eat bugs.  See how orange those yolks are?

After a super delicious breakfast, we set out for our first real adventure in Panama- ziplining!

El Valle is so small that you can pretty much walk everywhere.  So that’s what we did.

Scott.  Macho.  Obvi.

We passed several houses with chickens happily wandering around.

We saw campsites!  And we were really happy we were staying at our awesome hotel.

We saw plants growing in trees.

And a church.

And naked babies.

After a one-mile walk we finally made it to the zipline.  We met our guides and suited up.

(stolen from Scott)

Butt shot!

(stolen from Scott)

Scott didn’t want to be left out.

Properly outfitted, we hiked to the first zipline, where our guide demonstrated proper form.

(stolen from Scott)

Since I was the resident zipline expert (I’d gone once before in Tulum), I went first.  And I didn’t die!

(stolen from Scott)

(stolen from scott. actually, from here on out, if it's a good picture, i probably stole it from scott.)

Mary!

Kat!

Priscilla!

After we made the zipline rounds, we posed some more.

So.  Sexy.

After ziplining, we had a 3-hour lunch.  Some lunches last that long because the food is incredible or the service is impeccable or the conversation is amazing.  This particular lunch lasted 3 hours because a) the “slower pace of life” you hear about in Panama is most clearly reflected in the restaurant service and b) we ate at a restaurant that was filled with aggressive pheasants who literally stormed our table while we were waiting for our food and amorous ducks who expressed their desire for one another about 6 inches from our table.  (Here we learned just how violent duck love can be.  Isabella Rosselini gives a good description of it here.)

Post lunch, we decided to check out the Nispero Zoo, aka the best $3 zoo in the whole wide world.  Seriously, it was the best $3 we spent on the entire trip.

Racoons!

Giant rodent-things!

Golden frogs!  (The signature animal of El Valle.)

Pheasants!  I think it was wearing a bread tie on it’s nose.

Albino peacocks!  No matter what my hair color may be at the moment, I’ll always feel a special kinship with albinos.

Emu!

Rooster!  Seriously, there were so many freaking chickens here it was insane.  I am pretty sure that we were eating zoo-chicken eggs the whole time we were in El Valle.

The mule.  Kat really liked the mule.  Like, a little too much.  Like, she kissed it good-bye.  But you know, whatever floats your boat.

So there isn’t an animal in this picture, but it will be PERFECT for Priscilla’s Sri-Lankan online dating profile pic!  So lovely.

There were a ton of other animals- ocelots, jaguars, parrots and taipers to name a few.  Unfortunately, it’s midnight and I’m exhausted.  So that’s what you get.

Next- fancy food, more fruit plates, Panamanian Sasquatch and Bocas del Toro!

The recap continues.

On day 2, we woke up in Panama City, navigated the intricacies that come when 5 people share 1 shower and took advantage of the Sheraton’s complimentary breakfast that came courtesy of Scott’s Platinum Status.  Seriously, that Platinum Status stuff was the glue that bound our vacation together- free breakfasts, free wine  and cheese plates, free happy hours- we pretty much took advantage of every possible perk we could get our hands on.  Including, but not limited to, the fact that I may have pocketed a purseful of tea bags when I found that they had Mighty Leaf tea left out unattended.

Yeah, I’m classy.

After breakfast, Scott and Kat set out to pick up our rental car while Mary, Priscilla and I volunteered to lounge by the pool for a bit.  Total team players.

(Do you LOVE my gold Target sandals?  I do.  I will be much happier once it gets warm enough in Seattle to actually wear them up here.  Also, here’s a fun fact: I brought 5 pairs of shoes on this trip.  4 were metallic gold.  The other were hiking shoes.  If I ever find gold hiking shoes, I’m buying them on the spot.)

What was supposed to be a quick 30 minute trip to pick up the car ended up taking about an hour and a half- evidently there was some huge cycling event going on and about half of the major streets in the city were closed.  Thankfully, Kat and Scott’s $2 cab ride included a driver who at least knew the basic layout of the city.  When they arrived and we packed into the car to head to our next destination, the tiny mountain town of El Valle de Anton, we did not have such knowledge, and it ended up taking us over an hour just to get out of the city.

See, here’s the thing about Panamanians.  They’re really nice.  They’re super friendly.  They make good food and are fun to hang out with.  But they do not do very well with directions.  The map the rental car gave us was a blurry mimeograph that only showed 1 out of every 4 streets we actually passed.  We had to stop at 2 gas stations, ask a pizza delivery guy on a moped and stop in at 1 other rental car agency just to figure out how to get out of the freaking city limits.

It was a little frustrating.  Thankfully, we kept ourselves entertained.

While Kat and I tried to get directions in a convenience store, Scott picked out delectable Panamanian snacks.  Like packets of Miracle Whip.  Ugh.

This was also the spot where Scott successfully used the Macro feature on his camera for the very first time.  This would quickly become a theme of the trip.

During our many, many, many wrong turns, we got to explore the city and see what traffic looks like abroad.  (The city’s skyline is actually pretty impressive.)

(pic stolen from Priscilla)

There was also some pretty creative graffiti.

We also got very familiar with the Diablo Bus system.  Evidently, these busses, which sport elaborate murals depicting unicorns, barbarians and manga characters EVERYWHERE- even on the windshields- are privately owned but function as the main form of public transportation in Panama.  During our 2 hour drive to El Valle, we saw about 300 of them, each more elaborately decorated than the last.

Halfway to El Valle, we started to get a little hungry.  When we saw a roadside cafe whose signage featured a list of meats rather than an actual name, we figured that would be a good place to eat lunch.

The parrot joined us for lunch.

Chicken plate!

Tamale!

Chorizo!!!

Post lunch, we packed back in the car and drove another hour to El Valle and checked in to our little hotel, Anton Valley Hotel.

Mary found this hotel and it was absolutely adorable!  We had booked a room that just barely fit all 5 of us for only $70/night, but when we arrived, the owner told us that since they had an extra room free, they would go ahead and give it to us for free.  Yeah, that’s right- FREE!  We were instantly happy.

Once we were settled in our rooms we walked down the street to check out the handicraft market that takes place in El Valle every Sunday.

Mary was in giant colorful jewelry heaven.

There were a lot of Panama hats.  (Fun fact- the “Panama hat” that most people think of is actually made in Ecuador.  Who knew?  Well, besides all of Panama.)

A lot of Panama hats.

Scott continued to master the art of the macro shot. Look how awesome this picture of El Valle’s famous golden frogs turned out!

Something told me that the naked fairy lady paintings weren’t a key element of indigenous Panamanian culture.

I spent a lot of time talking to this jewelry maker and bought my mom a necklace.  (Mom- act surprised when I give this to you next weekend.  Thanks.)

But Mary found the best present ever for her mom- Jesus in a box!

Once we had made our purchases, we wandered down the street to a tiny little restaurant that featured $1.50 beer.

We meant to only have a couple of beers, but then we decided to have some appetizers as well.  And then we ended up eating an entire meal.  It was delicious.

We then went back to our hotel, where we once again set out to have a couple of drinks and ended up eating an entire second dinner.  Eh, it happens.  But the real highlight of the night was when Mary suddenly screamed “BAT!” and jumped out of her seat.  The rest of us proceeded to start freaking out as well when we heard one of the innkeepers laughing at us.  We tried to explain to him that there was a bat perched above Mary’s chair.  He just shook his head and told us that the creature we were scared of was not a bat.

He was right.

It was the biggest, most Jurassic-Park-esque cricket any of us had ever seen.  And it obviously felt at home- it hung out the entire time we spent eating, drinking and talking.  It even stayed and hung out when we moved over the the other patio, where we stayed up late playing Trivial Pursuit Jr. (Priscilla kicked all of our asses) and drinking Seco.  The Seco may have been the reason that it took us 2 hours to play 1 game of Trivial Pursuit Jr.

Okay, no more excuses.  The great Panamania recap begins NOW.

Vacations are awesome- that’s a given.  However, getting to wherever you’re going is sometimes less awesome, especially when you seem to have a black cloud surrounding you re: all things travel, like I apparently did during this particular trip.  Don’t believe me?  Let me share the following pieces of evidence:

• Exhibit A: American Airlines had some magic hiccup and apparently canceled my reservation 3 days before I was scheduled to leave.  I only found out when Scott, who had generously offered to upgrade me to first class with his frequent flier miles, called to confirm my upgrade and was told that my Record Locator no longer existed.   When I received his text message at 6 am Pacific time and confirmed that this was indeed the case, I spent an hour frantically trying to call the airline, only to find out that AT&T was down.  It took 90 minutes of hyperventilation and bewilderment to reach the airline, followed by 30 minutes of arguing with customer service that I in fact did NOT want to cancel my ticket, before they re-issued said ticket.  It then took 4 hours for me to find out that that transaction didn’t go through because customer service had entered in my billing address incorrectly, which sparked a security block on my credit card, which then took a solid hour of calling the airline and the credit card company to get my card reactivated.  In short, it took 12 hours before I actually got my tickets re-confirmed.  NOT a fun way to spend the day.
• Exhibit B:  Our flight from LA to Dallas, where we were meeting up with Scott and flying to Panama, left at 7:00 am Saturday morning, which meant we had to be at the airport at 5:00 am.  This meant I was up at 4:00 am- that’s too early to even take unflattering pictures of myself, which I normally kind of relish.
• Exhibit C: Upon arriving in Dallas, we found out that my name had mysteriously fallen off the upgrade list.  Honestly, at this point, I had pretty much accepted the fact that I was cursed, so rather than trying to argue, I just accepted my fate and moved on.

So what do you do when, en route to Panama City, Panama, you find yourself with a 2 hour layover in Dallas Texas, have been up since 4:00 am and just found out that you’re going to spend the next 5 hours alone in coach while your two besties get wasted in first class?  You comb the airport for an Irish pub and eat a bunch of pork.  Obviously.

Shockingly, Mary and I didn’t actively go out searching for Irish food that morning.  Rather, we both woke up from uncomfortable but extremely deep sleep during our LA-Dallas flight LITERALLY STARVING TO DEATH- seriously, I distinctly remember waking up as the plane landed and hearing my interior monologue tell me, in a scary deep ogre voice no less, “MUST.  EAT.  NOW.”  Evidently Mary had a similar experience (though I don’t know if she was actually hearing strange voices in her head like I was) and we got off the plane and made a beeline to the food court in our terminal, which we found to be sadly lacking.  Faced with the choice between Burger King, some random wraps joint and the Irish pub, we sat down at the Irish pub, figuring that they would at least have something reasonably non-offensive to offer for breakfast.

And then we both proceeded to order the full Irish breakfast.  Because when in Rome…  eat saturated fat.

The full Irish breakfast: blood sausage, streaky bacon (aka fatty ham), fried eggs, black pudding (little wafers of oatmeal and ground pork), a slice of soda bread, and something else fried that I couldn’t identify.

What the hell, right?

And coffee.  Of course, when Mary asked for milk with her coffee, she was told that they were out of milk.  They were also out of cream and half and half.  A little confused (and a lot groggy), I asked what they did have for the coffee.  The waiter’s response?  “Baileys.”

So we got doubles.

Sometime after our food came, Scott’s plane from New York landed and he called asking where he could find us.  When we casually told him we were at the Irish pub in terminal 4, he started laughing hysterically and hung up.  But eventually he got there.  And then he ate my streaky bacon.

Eventually we realized that we needed to hike it to our gate in order to actually catch our flight, so we got the check, cursed the waiter for charging us full price for the Baileys, and made it to the proper gate.  Mary and Scott happily breezed into first class, where they were greeted with champagne and smiles.  Meanwhile, I joined the other cattle and made my way into coach, where the combination of booze, exhaustion and pork quickly lulled me into a dead sleep.  I seriously don’t even think I made it past the plane taking off.  So far, the only saving grace of this flight was that I had an entire row to myself.

Meanwhile, in first class, Mary and Scott enjoyed the good life.

Thanks to the fact that Mary had the same rock sitting in her stomach that I did, she was completely unable to eat any of the food that her upgrade entailed.  Thankfully, Scott is a bottomless pit and made sure nothing went to waste.  This is what he ate during the 5 hour flight:

Vodka cran and 2 servings of warm nuts.  (heehee)

Steak salad.

Jamaican Jerk Chicken.  Scott commented on the pool of oil and still gave it a good review.

Halibut and Rice Pilaf.  This was originally Mary’s, but she was a wee bit full.

2 gigantic ice cream sundaes.  Seriously, I saw the bowls during a brief moment of consciousness- they were at least as big as my head.

Of course, since these are my two very best friends in the whole world, they weren’t totally ignorant of my plight back in coach, so at one point they asked a stewardess to send me a glass of champagne.  When the stewardess came back with the champagne still in hand, she informed them that “their friend” (me) was sprawled out across 3 seats sleeping and therefore unable to imbibe.  Like the good friends they are, they then made their way back to coach to take unflattering pictures of me sleeping.

Sexy, yes?

Thanks guys.

Eventually though, I woke up, we landed, and we were in Panama at long last!  We checked into our hotel, met up with our first travel companion, Kat, did some freshening up and set out for dinner on the town.

Next up: The arrival of PP (aka Priscilla), traffic jams, giant bugs and roadside chorizo.

The title of this post pretty much summarizes how I was feeling last Saturday.  Thanks to Mike losing the wheel to his car, I had no idea how or when we were going to get home.  If you know me at all, you probably know that I don’t do too well with this kind of spontaneity- in my old age, I find myself getting more and more anxious when plans suddenly change.  I’m not proud of the fact that I get grumpy when something as insignificant as dinner plans suddenly change, and it’s something I’ve put on my official “very long list of things I need to work on” list, but with no idea of the method or date of our departure, by Saturday I was starting to freak out a bit.  Or a lot.  Like, so much so that I woke up with a popped blood vessel in my eye.  This is the face of stress.

I don’t know if Mike was genuinely concerned for my mental well-being or just getting stir-crazy in Anaheim himself, but on Saturday morning we decided to ditch Orange County and head to LA.  Mike was in charge of choosing our activity, so our first destination was California Science Center in Exposition Park.

I’ve been to this place before for the BodyWorks exhibit (and once in the 4th grade when my mom sent me to Science Camp with my best friend Shannon, where we both wore flip-up sunglasses a la Dwayne Wayne from A Different World, snuck off to the gift shop and spent all of the money we had on astronaut ice cream, which we ate so much of that we both barfed on the bus ride back).  The actual museum isn’t really my thing- it’s a little too kid-centric- but a) it’s donation-based, and therefore cheap, and b) it also has this really cool place called The Annenberg Building that you can rent for private functions.  I’m kind of obsessed with it- I really wanted to have our wedding there before I found out how expensive it was.  Therefore, now I just really want SOMEBODY I know to have their wedding or some other awesome party there so I can live vicariously through you.

Seriously, somebody please get married there.

Anyway, we spent about an hour reveling in the wonders of science.

Then we got bored, walked around Exposition Park for a bit, and left to go meet Mary and wander around Venice Beach for a bit.  (With one small detour to three car dealerships in between.  Typical Saturday.)

Venice Beach is one of my favorite neighborhoods in LA- it’s a good mix of artists and hippies with a healthy sprinkle of shallow bourgeoisie thrown in for good measure.  It’s a mix that is both familiar and entertaining.

We walked down Abbot-Kinney toward the boardwalk, visiting whichever boutiques and bookstores caught our eyes.

Mary had never seen a T-Rex before.  Thankfully, Mike not only knew what it was, but also how awesome it would be to take a road trip in one.  (He can do that without me.)

We saw the Grilled Cheese Truck!  We didn’t eat there though since we already had dinner plans.

We made it to the beach just as the sun was setting.  I LOVE Venice Beach.  Growing up, my dad would take us there on weekend mornings just for people watching- the body builders, the protesters gathering signatures to legalize marijuana, the freaks walking on glass- nothing says “Sunday morning with the family” like mocking crazy people.

And then we saw it…  the drum circle.

There are no words to describe the 80 year old man, dressed in a full suit, dancing in the middle.

After the sun set we met our friend Noelle for lunch at my new favorite restaurant, Lemonade.

Seriously- it’s so good.  Their salads made my tummy sing with joy and Mike’s pot roast/macaroni and cheese sandwich won raves as well.  And they have parsnip soup- parsnips are basically my favorite vegetable in the entire world this week.

After dinner we bid adieu to Mary and Noelle and headed back to Anaheim.  I still had no idea how we were going to get home, but the combination of sunny skies, dancing hippies and parsnips had definitely improved my overall mental health.

So in my last post, I stuck to the high points of Mary and Scott’s trip to Seattle- good food, a beautiful hike,mike’s leggins and super happy friend love crap.  In an effort to keep the post more Hemmingway than Tolstoy, I decided to skip on their visit’s definite low point.

But then Scott bitched about it in the comments section so I decided that I had to tell you about the worst 30 minutes of last weekend.  And it was all Scott’s fault.

On the way to Wallace Falls State Park, we passed a sign that read “Washington State Salmon Hatchery.”  Scott, who had previously been singing along to the Miley Cyrus’ opus “Party in the USA” (thank you KISS and your 3 XM stations that played the song 4 times during our one hour drive), suddenly started shrieking like a woman possessed and insisted that we stop there on the way back.  Well, actually, he wanted to cancel the hike and just go look at salmon, but I told him to shut it and we hiked anyway.

But we did indulge him on the way home.

And it was horrific.  Or, as Scott would say, “horrif.”

As soon as we parked, we were greeted by this sign:

I really don’t know what to say about these visual fun facts, except that I really hope that this is a popular spot for elementary school field trips.  And I really hope that it prompts lots of interesting dinner table conversation afterwards.  “Mommy, why does the boy salmon get squeezed and pee on the bucket of salmon eggs?”

Evidently, late October is the time of year when the adult salmon have already made it back to their spawning grounds, let their goodies loose and are basically just waiting to die.  We went down to look at the live fish, and they were big.  And fat.  And barely alive.  It was really just depressing.

If you look closely, you can see nasty dead salmon carcasses piling up on the bottom of the holding pen.  This was so depressing that I took a big step back…  right into a giant pile of dog poo.  Nice.  And then I saw this:

Yeah, that’s a dead salmon.  Filled with maggots.  Evidently the salmon here are so half dead that just about any hungry animal thinks of this holding pen of their own Vegas buffet during this time of year.  The entire lawn was filled with nasty rotting carcasses.  Between that and the dog poo, I wanted to cry.

Meanwhile, Scott pranced around, explored the hatchery, and learned about his favorite fish.  I sat in the car and complained.

The rest of the day went well- we celebrated our friend Shaun’s birthday, where Mary and Scott met my Seattle friends and we ate his pulled pork, followed by an after dinner snack of rillette, duck confit and sparkling wine at Bastille.  I honestly don’t know how the hell we ate that much after seeing the dead salmon fiesta.  Scott really brings out the best in me.

Thank you so much, Scott, for adding this side trip into our day.  I’ll never forget it.

Oh, if you aren’t familiar with the amazing musical achievement that is “Party in the USA,” I think the best way to acquaint yourself with it is via this epic rendition:

So far I’ve been able to knock quite a few items off my list of awesome things to do while in California for the (longish) weekend.  Fortunately, it’s been a pretty entertaining trip.  Unfortunately, you’re getting the news out of order.  Eh, you’ll live.

Anyway, do you remember the high tea I went to last month to celebrate (or mourn) Rita’s escape from Seattle?  There were tiny sandwiches, pastries that looked like things my grandma used to bake, LOTS of contrasting floral wallpaper and a drink menu that featured, well, mostly tea.  Well, I liked that tea experience, so when my bff Mary suggested that we do tea while I was in LA, I jumped at the idea.

This tea, however, promised to be VERY different.

First of all, it wasn’t being held in a traditional tea house manned by middle-aged women with a penchant for collecting stuffed animals.  It took place at the uber-stylish Bazaar at the SLS Hotel in Beverly Hills.  Instead of crazy mismatched floral prints and fuzzy forest creatures, Bazaar is a professionally lit, super-modern lounge/restaurant/bar/marketplace that looks like it was decorated by Alice in Wonderland’s really hip brother who works as a professional shopper at Bendel’s in Manhattan.

Just like the name implies, everything behind glass is for sale.  And it’s all crazy expensive.  Because naturally, when I go to tea, I often feel like dropping a couple hundred dollars on some weirdly awesome teddy bear that looks like it could kill me.

After some browsing, we settled down for some tea.  But first, we had to wait for our two other guests- Elizabeth and Kim!

They, of course, were both late.  Which was okay because Mary and I were running late anyway.  That is one thing I love about Southern California- punctuality is an added bonus, not a requirement.

Tea service began with tea and scones.

See the scone?  It looked and tasted more like a tiny muffin, but it was delish. You’ll quickly see that “tiny” was a definite theme here.  Partially because tiny generally equals good, and partially because we’re in freaking LA- nobody eats.

Each of us got a different tea, and they all had fabulous names and descriptions.  I opted for the White Darjeeling “Champagne of teas,” Elizabeth chose the “Iron Goddess of Mercy” green blend, Mary picked the “SLS Beverly Hills Blend” black and Kim chose a classic, yet tasteful, Orange Pekoe.  All were as enjoyable to drink as they were to order.

First our savory course came out.  This is where all similarities to a traditional high tea ended.

Top left: Cucumber, yogurt and tomato caviar (delicious), fois gras sandwich on toasted brioche bun (my first time eating fois gras- it was yummy but I haven’t fully embraced that kind of texture yet.  We made the mistake of telling Kim where fois gras comes from and she couldn’t finish hers.)

Middle: a deconstructed bagel and lox- salmon roe, cream cheese in a “bagel skin” nori cone (good, but salty- better to eat all in one bite)

Bottom: beet meringue with goat cheese filling (super delicious but weird- you know what a meringue should feel like in your mouth, and you know that it’s a beet meringue, but you bite into it and you are still amazed that you are eating a meringue that tastes like beets), caviar with steamed bun (basically a tiny, Westernized bau or fluffy steamed bun you see at dim sum- yummy, with a tiny bit of kind of marscapone or something inside)

Honestly, the best part of this whole tea (besides spending time with three of my absolute favorite people in the universe) was the fact that we all felt a little “Top Chef” eating this food.  Some of it was a little intimidating- see Elizabeth’s look of trepidation as she is about to try the bagel and lox:

She puts on a brave face.

There was no trepidation, however, when it came to trying the champagne.  It was pink and bubbly- what’s NOT to love?

A dessert course followed, but by this time my camera had run out of space on the memory card and it took me way too long to figure out how to delete pictures.  So no pictures of that.  Everything was yummy though, except maybe the saffron jelly candy- Kim isn’t down with jiggly food and couldn’t do it.  (In case you haven’t noticed, Kim is the only person in the world who makes me and MY food issues look sane.  She joins me in general abhorrence for all white food but takes it to the next level- the girl is afraid of bananas.  AFRAID.  i LOVE kim.)

By the time we finished eating though, I did manage to clear out a few crap pictures so we could get a group shot outside.  In front of the hotel, we saw a nice couple who offered to take a picture of us- we’re so cute:

Then the male half of said couple decided he wanted to be in the picture with us.

And then, Mr. Man, who, if you couldn’t tell by the sunburn and ruddy face was probably a drunk tourist, tried to kiss me.  That was weird.  Notice how Elizabeth, who could have protected me, obviously failed in her role as my bodyguard.

Thankfully this, and my accompanying look of fear and attempt at fleeing, was not caught on camera.  It was, however, a good example of the fact that LA is filled with crazy, self-entitled people who need to wear more sunscreen.

PS- in case you are worried about the stability of our marriage because some crazy stranger tried to kiss me, don’t.  When I told Mike about it, he laughed.  When I asked him why he reacts so coolly to weird things like this, he compared it to somebody complimenting his car.

Such is my life.

More California recaps to come as I get pictures uploaded.

I was so excited about posting about the race that I went out of order and forgot to share our Saturday adventure with Mary.  So here it goes.

What do YOU do the day before a race?  Rest your legs a bit and take it easy?  We did half of that.  We started the day off with a yummy breakfast at Portage Bay Cafe with Mary’s college friend Kerrie (whom I love because we made plans to go to Tilth with her and her husband sometime soon) and then headed to Husky Stadium to pick up our bibs for the race and knock another thing off of my master Seattle to-do list: go kayaking.

Since there were 3 of us, we ended up canoeing rather than kayaking, which was actually (I think) better, because the canoe seems a wee bit more stable.  Once we got in, we set out to explore Montlake, which is pretty freaking gorgeous.  Going under the bridges makes you feel like you’re back at the boat ride at Disneyland (if you grew up in SoCal and went to Disneyland every other weekend like I did), except you actually have to row and you aren’t stuck to some mechanical track.

See?  It does look like the boat ride.

Mike navigated…

And only got us stuck a couple of times.

Mary looked all kinds of sexy.

We saw geese and goslings.

And turtles!  I named them Michael, Tony, Amy and Jimmy.  There was another one looking in the wrong direction on another log nearby, but I didn’t get a picture of him.  I named him Derek.

The only problem with kayaking/canoeing in Montlake is that after you’ve lazily drifted past a certain point and are ready to head back, the only way to get to the dock is to navigate through choppy open water and get attacked by speedboats and huge yachts.  This results in a rather strenuous workout.  After 2 hours of canoeing, I was ready for a nap.

So we napped.  Then Mary and I walked to the seafood market down the street and got some amazing Copper River Salmon and made a kickass dinner to help fuel our bodies for the race.  Obviously, paying almost $30 a pound for salmon paid off.

Sunday morning we woke up at 6:30 am with one singular goal:

Beat the Bridge is the main reason Mary even flew up this weekend.  It’s an 8k race that circles around Husky Stadium at UW.  You have 20 minutes to cross the University Bridge, which falls exactly at the 2 mile mark.  At the 20 minute mark the drawbridge raises and everybody behind the bridge has to wait for it to come back down.  It’s not really that terrible- the whole thing basically gives you a six minute break before you go run the rest of the race, and they give away prizes while a live band plays.  But beating the bridge is still a matter of pride.

Running 2 miles in 20 minutes shouldn’t be that hard, but the race is so popular that it takes you a good 3 or 4 minutes to really break through the crowd and get running.  Plus, I’m not exactly a great runner- more like a good plodder.  Real runners leap through the air like graceful gazelles- my movement is little more like a baby giraffe just learning to walk.  There is a great deal of teetering involved, hence my rather frequent falls and injuries.  (Thankfully, this race was catastrophe-free.)

Anyway, with a final time of 48:37, I DID in fact beat the bridge!  I just barely made it- I literally heard the drawbridge buzzer go of as I took my last step off the bridge.  I even had my own personal photographer to document my crossing the finish line:

Yeah, Mike did an awesome job as support staff.  He woke up just as early as Mary and I, drove us to the event, let us jump out of the car in the middle of the street while he searched for parking so we had time to pee before the race started and took fabulous pictures while he waited for us to run.

Team Michael FTW.

Post-run, we grabbed for food and I grubbed for free samples (which were sadly lacking by the way- a diabetic energy bar and a bottle of smart water were the best things I could get my hands on.  Boo.).  However, by noon total exhaustion had kicked in and I knew I could barely keep myself from falling asleep in a plate of pineapple chicken.  I even had to call and cancel on my friend Kate’s bridal shower, which was a total bummer.  Thankfully, her wedding is less than 2 weeks away, and I’m not planning on running my ass off the morning before that big event.

At home, we all immediately fell asleep.  Even Mike, who didn’t run, but is always willing to get a sympathy nap in.  We eventually roused ourselves to get Mary to the airport, with one quick detour to the market to meet up with our favorite baby in all of Seattle, Derrick’s niece Bella:

Yeah, she’s already a total ham.  But if you know Derrick, you understand where it comes from.

After dropping off Mary, Mike and I ate leftovers from Salumi for dinner and I was asleep by 9:30 pm.  Total Rockstar style.

Mary’s here!

Mary’s flight got in yesterday morning.  After a ridiculously busy week, I took a much-needed day off to get some bonding time in with Mary.  After all, we had some really important things to get done that day, like driving an hour to the Lululemon outlet in Burlington.  In order to properly fuel up for the day’s events, and because we really miss our pork-loving friend Scott, we started the day off with lunch at Salumi.

Salumi is a Seattle institution, so I was prepared for a long line.  We ended up waiting 45 minutes, but the time went quickly because we had plenty of people to keep us entertained.  The owners walking out with salami samples didn’t hurt either.  I do have to say, ever since I started eating pork in December, it has really really grown on me.

When we finally ordered our lunch, Mary mentioned that we were celebrating a belated version of her birthday.  The staff decided to mark it in a very, very appropriate way:

It’s a salami cake!

Seriously, there is nothing better than a great meal and some fantastic wine in the middle of the afternoon.

Everybody should eat at Salumi.  Get the olive oil bread.  Sit at the communal table- we ended up sitting next to a retired Mariners player and some 30 year old hipster wearing mirrored glasses indoors- and split a sandwhich with your favorite person in the world.  It starts the weekend off right.  The line is definitely a commitment, but a couple of mouthfuls of the magic meat is worth it.

After lunch, we wandered around, got some coffee, and set out for an uber-successful outlet shopping trip, where I got a gold gym bag at Lululemon for $40 and convinced the salesgirl at Banana Republic to give me an extra 40% off two shirts that were obviously not on sale.  That, plus some spring rolls and ban xeo at Greenleaf for dinner made me a very very happy camper.  Friday was good times.