Marrying George Clooney

okay. this was supposed to be a couple of days of rest & relaxation, and ken’s birthday get-a-way. and yes, yes it’s been a great, delightful birthday celebration. seeing our friends who are now spending a few months in south beach – barb & al, fran & marvin…. we love them and miss them. so that has been wonderful & great…
but but BUT…
this is how we started off on our r & r trip slash birthday week:

ken lost his wallet. we were all packed and ready and the car was packed and ready and then he declared: shit, i can’t find my wallet. this is so typical. truly. last minute chaos. out flight was at 2:55, it was now noon. granted the airport is 45 minutes away, but still… no wallet, no trip. we searched, we scrambled, we went back to the garbage dumpster where just the night before we dumped our garbage, we searched under the car, in the car, in ken’s suitcase, in every drawer, in garbage cans… we searched, and it was now 1:00, and i was throwing a nut-dance, even i was shocked at the level of nut-dance-ability. holy mother of god. that was it, no more vacation. no wallet, no ID, no getting through security… and then one last look, and there it was in the back pocket of his jeans hanging in the closet HIS WALLET.
fine. scramble. hurry. get dressed. regroup. breathe in breathe out. rush rush rush…
get in the car. rush rush rush. gates closed, but…. we beg. beg. beg. please, please…. we make the plane.
heart beating & sweating. enough to raise any cholesterol a thousand percent.
then we arrive.
fran & marvin, marvin & fran. perfection. the weather is freezing. 38, and chilly. but our friends make it all better. all better.
then barbara. gorgeous wonderful barbara. what a treat.
then dinner for ken and birthday wishes all around, and then 2 nights at the mondrian, which is a bit too kitschy and modern and what’s with the seven foot lolita on every single wall? okay. a bit creepy for me. but…
great dinner, great friends.
and now today, day 4, pouring rain.
pouring. rain. rain. pouring.
ken is a year older, and i’ve probably — give or take — gained about ten years.