The Girl Scout Board of Tourism
Don’t start, I already know, and I’m already sorry.
Anyway. Aloha from Scottsdale where it is a charming 63 degrees at sunset. We had some wind
today, that was the pinnacle of our weather-laden afternoon. I said this to my mother today over the telephone.
"We had some wind today, that was the pinnacle of our weather-laden afternoon," I said.
"They’re canceling school for tomorrow already, we’ve gotten six new inches of snow in the last three hours, I’m eating soup with the fireplace on and a Paul Newman movie in the DVD player. . . I’m so happy."
"But the wind was pretty bad here, it like, blew stuff around."
"I know honey, it sounds awful. I’m sorry it was so windy."
"Yeah, that’s better. Thanks," I said.
"The puppies are all curled up in front of the fire," she says.
"MOM!"
"Right, it’s not good, its not fun, but I did make chocolate chip cookies," she says.
"This is outrageous, Mother."
"Sorry honey."
It is our decidedly pleasant, albeit occasionally windy, climate that causes tourists to flock to Scottsdale, it encourages professional baseball teams to hold their training games a couple blocks from my house, it encourages family members and longlost friends to seek refuge on your couch for a little while under the ruse of "visiting you." Sure. Like I’d see you every March if I lived in Fargo - - you just love my cooking and my jokes. . . oooh.
In all honesty, this years barrage of guests was quite well rounded, multi-generational, and exciting to say the least. The first guest was none other than AndyE who posts to this blog (when there is a blog to post to, right?) Following AndyE was an up and coming chef of the noteworthy quality and charisma, Gray Rollin. Gray had been the Chef de Cuisine at IO and had helped out at Pacific’o on Maui. Kris and I dropped Gray off at the airport on a Friday and picked up our next two guests on a Sunday morning.
For five days I got an up close and in-your-face crash course on what it is to be a 23 year old midwest girl. I think I passed my tests both as babysitter and chauffeur and only slipped out of a responsible role when encouraging tequila shots before going shopping for cowgirl boots. I look at this one of a couple ways.
1. When babysitting, any good babysitter will tell you, there is a time when the "children" are off to bed and the babysitter gets to eat ice cream on the house-couch and watch television. This is the portion of the babysitting job that is the "gravy." Being paid to eat someone else’s ice cream is the gravy.
2. The "children" I was in charge of were of drinking age so no real impropriety took place. It’s arguable that drinking tequila at 10am on a Tuesday is improper, but it is also arguable that shopping for cowgirl boots brings with it its own set of variable rules.
So if I am going to spend an hour shopping for cowgirl boots with no "bedtime" for the "children" in sight, then I am going to drink a double shot of Cazadores Repo before entering the leather-walled boot-ique. That will by my gravy.
This also gave me the opportunity to tell the good folks at the restaurant that I "had family" in town and couldn’t pick up or work extra shifts this week. This is true as Krissy’s little sister was one of my charges (francesca-formerly-formisano-currently-jirsa or FFFCJ) and I call her my family when it gains me time off or when she needs reprimanding. We ate cupcakes, and shopped for bargain jeans, we ate ice cream and talked about lactose intolerance, we had modeling shoots in the desert
, read magazines by the pool - - - by the time they’d left I’d secured all my Girl Scout Badges and was halfway to finishing a crocheted (read cro-shayed) set of tea cozies. . .
This dip into the sacred feminine was cured later by chugging motor oil, eating a large steak, and whistling obscenely at only marginally attractive women from a speeding car. Manly, I say. Manly!
Anyhow - - on the update front, all else is well. The weather is hovering near hot but not dropping all reservations and going for broke quite yet. I am asked all the time what my plans for the summer will be since my plans for the summer are usually the things of envy. I’m not sure I can readily and rationally take three money-earning months off during a time when money is as tight as the muscles in my legs after an impromptu game of racquetball.
I’ll work on it. I’ll let you know. The website is up and running. It is very simple and one-dimensional, but it serves a purpose. I think it serves a purpose. Either way - - its out there. http://www.yahimake.com/
I’m off to shave my legs and bake a pie. Or I’ll rebuild the carburetor and shoot a wild animal with an assault rifle. I’m versatile at this time of the evening.
Anyway. Aloha from Scottsdale where it is a charming 63 degrees at sunset. We had some wind
today, that was the pinnacle of our weather-laden afternoon. I said this to my mother today over the telephone."We had some wind today, that was the pinnacle of our weather-laden afternoon," I said.
"They’re canceling school for tomorrow already, we’ve gotten six new inches of snow in the last three hours, I’m eating soup with the fireplace on and a Paul Newman movie in the DVD player. . . I’m so happy."
"But the wind was pretty bad here, it like, blew stuff around."
"I know honey, it sounds awful. I’m sorry it was so windy."
"Yeah, that’s better. Thanks," I said.
"The puppies are all curled up in front of the fire," she says.
"MOM!"
"Right, it’s not good, its not fun, but I did make chocolate chip cookies," she says.
"This is outrageous, Mother."
"Sorry honey."
It is our decidedly pleasant, albeit occasionally windy, climate that causes tourists to flock to Scottsdale, it encourages professional baseball teams to hold their training games a couple blocks from my house, it encourages family members and longlost friends to seek refuge on your couch for a little while under the ruse of "visiting you." Sure. Like I’d see you every March if I lived in Fargo - - you just love my cooking and my jokes. . . oooh.
In all honesty, this years barrage of guests was quite well rounded, multi-generational, and exciting to say the least. The first guest was none other than AndyE who posts to this blog (when there is a blog to post to, right?) Following AndyE was an up and coming chef of the noteworthy quality and charisma, Gray Rollin. Gray had been the Chef de Cuisine at IO and had helped out at Pacific’o on Maui. Kris and I dropped Gray off at the airport on a Friday and picked up our next two guests on a Sunday morning.
For five days I got an up close and in-your-face crash course on what it is to be a 23 year old midwest girl. I think I passed my tests both as babysitter and chauffeur and only slipped out of a responsible role when encouraging tequila shots before going shopping for cowgirl boots. I look at this one of a couple ways.
1. When babysitting, any good babysitter will tell you, there is a time when the "children" are off to bed and the babysitter gets to eat ice cream on the house-couch and watch television. This is the portion of the babysitting job that is the "gravy." Being paid to eat someone else’s ice cream is the gravy.
2. The "children" I was in charge of were of drinking age so no real impropriety took place. It’s arguable that drinking tequila at 10am on a Tuesday is improper, but it is also arguable that shopping for cowgirl boots brings with it its own set of variable rules.
So if I am going to spend an hour shopping for cowgirl boots with no "bedtime" for the "children" in sight, then I am going to drink a double shot of Cazadores Repo before entering the leather-walled boot-ique. That will by my gravy.
This also gave me the opportunity to tell the good folks at the restaurant that I "had family" in town and couldn’t pick up or work extra shifts this week. This is true as Krissy’s little sister was one of my charges (francesca-formerly-formisano-currently-jirsa or FFFCJ) and I call her my family when it gains me time off or when she needs reprimanding. We ate cupcakes, and shopped for bargain jeans, we ate ice cream and talked about lactose intolerance, we had modeling shoots in the desert
, read magazines by the pool - - - by the time they’d left I’d secured all my Girl Scout Badges and was halfway to finishing a crocheted (read cro-shayed) set of tea cozies. . .This dip into the sacred feminine was cured later by chugging motor oil, eating a large steak, and whistling obscenely at only marginally attractive women from a speeding car. Manly, I say. Manly!
Anyhow - - on the update front, all else is well. The weather is hovering near hot but not dropping all reservations and going for broke quite yet. I am asked all the time what my plans for the summer will be since my plans for the summer are usually the things of envy. I’m not sure I can readily and rationally take three money-earning months off during a time when money is as tight as the muscles in my legs after an impromptu game of racquetball.
However.
I would like to go to Argentina.
Or Australia.
I have a friend who is vacating his house in Napa.
A month at the cabin outside of Denver sounds pretty good.
A few weeks in Littleton is always sublime.
Lake Keuka in upstate New York?
Hunting down publishing leads in Manhattan?
Or Australia.
I have a friend who is vacating his house in Napa.
A month at the cabin outside of Denver sounds pretty good.
A few weeks in Littleton is always sublime.
Lake Keuka in upstate New York?
Hunting down publishing leads in Manhattan?
I’ll work on it. I’ll let you know. The website is up and running. It is very simple and one-dimensional, but it serves a purpose. I think it serves a purpose. Either way - - its out there. http://www.yahimake.com/
I’m off to shave my legs and bake a pie. Or I’ll rebuild the carburetor and shoot a wild animal with an assault rifle. I’m versatile at this time of the evening.
posted by Snapp @ 7:09 PM
3 comments
