I have today off! Because Wednesday is the traditional day to take one vacation day.
A faithful reader sent me two passes to the Biltmore, a mansion in the mountains that the Vanderbilts used to live in. I wonder if they still own it. Like, can Anderson Cooper be all, “Everybody out. I want this place to myself this weekend”?
Anyway, I’ve asked Wedding Alex to be my date, and now we’ve BOTH taken a day off work and the whole office will go to hell in a handbasket because we are the backbone of that company. Or, no one will notice.
Wedding Alex has a much fancier job than I have. She, like, directs client solutions or provides architectural solutions or she solves mysteries with solutions. I forget. But she fancy. She’s very grown up.
I tend to have friends who are younger than me who are very grown up, have you noticed that? Although my friend Sandy, who is my age, said the other day, “You’re pretty much Frankie to my Grace, right?” and I pointed out to her that other than my hippie woods-living friend Marianne, ALL my friends are Grace to my Frankie.
If you don’t watch Grace and Frankie there is something wrong with you. Or you’re Hulk. One of the two.
So she’ll be here soon, Wedding Alex will, and we’ll get in the car and head to the mountains and go to a mansion and I hope eat lunch at some point, because lunch. Then we’ll look at mansion things some more and then head back and that will be the end of our day of romance in the mountains.
My grandparents–the grandmother I’ve turned into and my grandfather who was the World’s Nicest Person–retired not far from said mansion, and they got season passes and went there just all the time. They were obsessed with that place, and by “they” I probably mean Grammy. Picky, my grandfather, probably just went along for the ride, which sums up their 109 years of marriage.
Anyway, they once sent me a picture of the two of them there, in front of a statue of some little sprite playing the flute or something, and it was such an absurd photo–the two of them in their sensible beige spring jackets, that I took that picture with me to the library, propped it up on books whenever I studied for something, to kind of lighten my mood.
I wish I could find that picture, and I just assumed I’d shown it to you at some point between 2006 and now, but when I google my blog and “statue” I get the following…
I remember this day. This is Joann, who had a blog, and I had a blog, and we used to email and call each other and so on. She lives in Florida, but she came to Raleigh for something and asked if I’d drive to have lunch with her one Sunday.
The Sunday we were to meet was a day or so after Marvin told me he was leaving, and I hadn’t told anyone yet, and I was dying to get there and confide in her. I wanted to tell someone face to face, not over the phone. I could hardly wait to spill all, it was all I could do to hold on till then, and when I got there, she said, “Do you mind if my husband joins us for lunch?”
So. I can’t recall who I finally told my tale of woe to, but eventually, that fell under the category of “everybody.” She, Joann, sent me a really nice print after Marvin left that I still have.
Anyway, when I get home tonight from my romantic getaway, I’ll look for that photo of m’grandparents. In the meantime, I have to figure out what to wear. I’d imagine an old mansion is going to be drafty, right? The last time I was there it was hot as blazes and there was no AC. No one was there to drive OJ down the 405. BAH.
Oh! Now I’ve talked too much about things that don’t matter and forgot to tell you I saw a card reader yesterday.
Basically, she said I had to actually leave the house more and stop being so happy to go to work and just come home. Crap.
Oh my god, are those heart hands in that middle card? I guess not. They’re more diorama hands. The fact that the third card doesn’t have a period doesn’t bug me or anything.
Okay, W Alex texted to see if I wanted anything from Starbucks (I don’t) so I’d better go so I look lovely when she arrives. Apparently she will be arriving in 1990.