Virtual Hug

This in response to your last post. It's to remind you that even when you're in a rough place, you've got friends who love you, support you, and want the best for you.
(And if I had all their pictures, I'd post them here, too! :)

Letter to Guy

I'm so pleased to hear London is up in arms about us visiting next week. How nice of everyone to trash the place before we arrive. It's difficult to tell whether the American media is sensationalizing the events that are occuring over there, though I know our media would never do that. Still, with headlines that scream "London Descends into Anarchy" and images of charred and burning car corpses, I admit it does give one pause. People (perhaps British citizens themselves) have said that hooliganism is a pastime of the British underclass, and they're from Tottenham, so what do you expect. Somebody else said Tottenham looked like crap before the riots, so no great loss there. The cynicism is lost on me, though I relish snarkiness for the acerbic writer that I am.

At the very least, I thought it wouldn't hurt to go straight to the source ask you a couple questions: (you know I like to ask questions):
A. Where, exactly, are these events taking place? Are they concentrated in just one area or are there pockets of violence and unrest?
B. Do you think things will settle by next week and will we be able to do and see all the touristy stuff while we're there?

Beyond my obvious self centered concerns, I do rather hope you're not dragged into any skirmishes while we're there. Scanning online, I thought to include a picture here of what you're up against.
I mean, look at them! ugh.

I think this calls for the deployment of England's secret weapon.

It's no secret, we all know you have one.

I just hope he's potty trained.

Off on vacation, you've left me to my own devices!

Besides, I'm Team Jacob.

I know I've been vacant...

But maybe i'm still just trying to get over the trauma of finding this on my sundae...

A Note Before You Go

I knew you were going to be in for a good time when I read this quote from Nobel Prize winner Enrico Fermi, who was asked if he believed in extraterrestrials. His reply:

"They are among us, but they call themselves Hungarians"

Pay no attention to the young boy before you, or the multitude of shaggy horned men that follow him. 

They dress this way in an attempt to scare off winter, and let me tell you:

 if I was winter I'd quickly change my name to spring.

The young men in southern Hungary march around the streets making "frightening noises" using wooden rattles, bag pipes, and drums. But, whatever frightening noise they make can't nearly be as awesome as the face on their masks.

Charming.

Chasing the young women of the village, whose job it is to flirt back, they end this spectacle of a festival with a bonfire on the second day, which surely can't come soon enough.

My trepidation was alleviated by the photos of your hotel. Surely, no horned shaggy men would try to molest you in a palace as celestial and grand as the one you showed me. 

And then I found BudapestMadness.com. 

Have you seen this site?? What in the Sam Hill is going on here?

Let me just say that apparently, the British men find Hungary to be the perfect little hot spot to have their Stag Do's. With packages titled, "Girls, Cars, Beer, Spa" or "Flat, Guns, Girls, Beer" or even the catchier, more enticing package of "Girls, Girls, Girls, Beer" - I am inclined to believe there is more to Budapest than what meets the royal eye.

Just take a look at poor Matt, who had a Facebook profile devoted to his 2008 bachelor party in Budapest.

I sincerely question the idea of what his friends believe the term "friendship" means.

And, may I point out, that this was taken in the MORNING.

Perhaps I rush to conclusions. Perhaps this is no poor reflection of the city itself, but rather, the concept of what a Bachelor party means to British men. 

And that is definitely a topic to be dealt with in another post.

In the meantime, Au Revoir, my dear.

Or "Búcsú" (as they say in Hungarian), and good luck!

Nice shoes.

And before you jump to any conclusions...

she was the HOSTESS, okay?

Also, I wish he would have taken his glasses off. 

They're distracting.

This weekend we:

Went to Old Town,

Ordered vegetarian pizza

Can you believe Emma ordered a Spinach Mozarella Quesadilla? 

My baby is growing up. (Sniff)

Went to park

Played with snails

Practiced Zen Tangling

Hung out with Trouble!

Went to Los Angeles and did what any good Angelino would do...

Attended a Dodger's game.

A nice weekend to kick off summer vacation.

I AM NOT ALONE!

I just had to share this with you, as often, I feel you think of me as mildly retarded for some of the things that I do.

This PROVES that:
A. I am not mentally retarded OR
B. That America is filled with retards like me.

I'm not sure that the second option is very comforting, but it's better than the first option not being true.

The following is taken from my favorite blogspot blogger, written by Jana Matthews.
AKA "The Meanest Mom" (Click on link below to go to her original post)

The Walk of Shame

"Last week, we checked out 12 books at the library, which is 12 more than we should have checked out.

I know better. Over the past six months, 2 DVDS and a Babysitter's Club novel haven't made it out of our house alive. After our last mishap, I swore that I would never step foot in the public library again.

But then school let out for the summer and my morals fell by the wayside.

"My name should be up there," I told my brood while we waited in line at the circulation desk. I pointed to a gold plaque listing the names of the library's biggest donors.

Kellen was carrying the corpse of our latest victim in a plastic shopping bag. Exactly what happened to the book is certain; by the time I found him, its body was barely recognizable.

"Cameron dropped it into bathtub!" my daughter screeched.

"I saw him throw it in!" added Cortlen.

Clearly several people witnessed the assault, yet it didn't occur to anyone to try to do anything about it.

"What could we have done?" Cortlen asked incredulously as he covered his hands with his mouth to stifle the grin.

"You could fish the book out of the water," I suggested.

[insert blank stare]

While at least one of my kids would like me to believe that he isn't playing with a full deck, the second witness was smart enough, however, to realize that time was of an essence. She knew that the book wasn't going to last long before it turned into a pulpy mush. That's why she screamed at the top of their lungs for the third to join them.

I found everyone in the bathroom, giggling hysterically.

"You think that's funny?" I asked.

Twenty-four hours later, I had to make the walk of shame. I timed my library visit so that it would coincide with the lunch break of the Children's Librarian.

"Ooooooooh!" The librarian on duty almost fainted when she saw the book. She spent the next few minutes looking like she was mourning the loss of a close relative.

It was almost too much to take.

"What do I owe you today?" I asked, pulling out my wallet. Most libraries let you buy the exact same book on Amazon and pay a small replacement processing fee. This library makes you give them half of your liver.

The librarian was willing to give me a number (which wasn't as bad as I thought), but only after she showed the deceased to all of her co-workers.

All I needed was a scarlet "A" pinned to my breast.

The only consolation in all this was that while the librarian was showing off my latest example of bad parenting, my toddler was using his fingers to make irrigation holes in a large potted plant in the lobby. Usually I would have grabbed him, but for some reason, I didn't have a lot of motivation. By the time the librarian and I were finished settling up, the ruined book was put in perspective." ~ Jana Matthews