Our trip to Sam's Club
So last night was so fabulous. The party was really no surprise because our friends (the ones holding our ladder hostage from the Great Ladder Caper of 2004 if you've read my Christmas letter) asked if we were doing anything on Wednesday night, our anniversary. Knowing me the way they do, I jumped at the opportunity to spend the evening with them instead of a romantic dinner out with my husband. My husband tries, but he has the romance of a doo-doo bird. (My apologies to the doo-doo bird.) D did bring me a dozen roses and a sappy card for our 25th anniversary which was very sweet, but when I asked him what movie we should go see that night, he suggested Blade Trinity, AND HE WAS SERIOUS. Instead, we went to The Aviator. (Hello, Leonardo DeCaprio's butt!) We often go to dinner afterwards, but I was thrilled to be going over to our friends' house for a between-the-holidays spontaneous party. She wouldn't let me bring anything, but knowing that I am not the best cook, that didn't surprise me. When we arrived, everyone was already there, singing "Happy Anniversary to You," which isn't really a song, but they sang it to the tune of "Happy Birthday." There was champagne and glorious food and toasts and laughter till our sides hurt. I just happened to find our wedding album and brought it to show "the part of the virgin bride was played by Ellen." I was talking with two lovely men when someone tugged on my shirt and said, "You're gonna wish you were in on that conversation in there." The topic? Where is the strangest place you have ever had sex? And these are my CHURCH friends. God, I love the Episcopal Church and all it has to offer. I will not (no matter how much you pay me) divulge names, but suffice it to saw that some answers were "washer/dryer," "golf course," and "flying down the highway at 70 mph." And no, my husband of 25 years and I were not the ones with those answers. We were the last to leave (because I don't have a job to go to the next morning, but everyone else did)!
So I am determined to get my Christmas (holiday) cards/letters out before 2005. I e-mailed my letter with photos to about 225 people, but I wanted to share it with those who have not joined us in the 21st Century with the internet. My daughters took the most stunning photo Christmas Eve after we returned from the neighbors' party and before we headed to Midnight Mass. These young ladies, the fruit of my loins, are drop-dead gorgeous when they dress up, which is so rare. After seeing the photo the other day, I decided we needed to make copies for the 50 or so snail mail friends. Thus, the run to Sam's Club (or EE, the Evil Empire). Please don't chastise me. Prints are 18 cents a piece. We made 60 copies and ran back home so Emily could go work out. We returned in an hour to pick up the photos and a copy of Garden State, Em's favorite movie (next to Saved). As we're leaving, she takes a peak at the multiple copies of these 2 gorgeous subjects in low-cut fancy dresses and bling-bling and said, "Well, I bet that picture guy got a woody." She cracks me up.
Now why do you think I grab every opportunity to send out photos of them when their mouths are closed and nothing vulgar or obscene can come out? It's a rare moment so let's immortalize it quickly. Well, the cards got sign, the labels attached and photos inserted so that they can have a Dec 31, 2004 postmark even if they won't arrive until 2005.