Tag Archives: Alan

Nothing says romantic getaway like…

3 Jan

During the three years we’ve been together, Alan and I have established a nice tradition of celebrating Christmas on New Year’s Eve. We grab a stack of books, some good bottles of wine, a bag of board games and go somewhere rural with a fireplace. This year, that place was Gramercy Mansion, just north of Baltimore in Maryland horse country.

The house was beautiful and the staff was friendly, and the added bonus was the resident cat, a huge white footstool of a thing named Romeo, who purred like an idling freight train. Don’t believe me? We pet him on the upstairs landing of the staircase while an elopement ceremony was being performed on the main level and they could hear him. Here’s Romeo:

Since I don’t have a television at home, when I stay in hotels, I enjoy browsing around to see what sort of stuff is on the more obscure cable channels. Which explains how we ended up watching “High Hitler” the History2 channel Sunday afternoon. Three interesting things I learned during this show:

  1. Hitler was regularly injected with meth by his personal physician, who claimed it was a multi-vitamin.
  2. Hitler is believed to have contracted syphilis from a prostitute in his teens, which would explain why he a) railed against the disease (calling it an enemy of the people) and b) was crazy.
  3. Hitler was vegetarian and had serious digestive issues, which his doctor treated by dosing him with a mixture of peasant feces.

Image Source: OMGFacts.comFascinating stuff. In fact, so fascinating that it gave rise to the following discussions with Alan:

Me: They just said he may have been in the final stages of syphilis. Was it deadly? 
Alan: Yeah, I think so. I don’t think it’s treatable.
Me: It must be treatable. Otherwise, we would hear about celebrities battling syphilis, right?
Alan: Fair enough. Let me google it. 
Alan googles it then shows me the entry. We both recoil at the photos of lesions. 
 
Image Source: http://www.pitch.com/binary/9519/buried_body.jpgMe: Remind me, how did Hitler die?
Alan: Shot himself.
Me: Right. And Eva Braun? 
Alan: Cyanide, I think.
Me: Yowsas. Cyanide isn’t immediate is it? I mean, it’s painful, right?
Alan: Pretty sure. Let me google it. 
Me: You better hope nothing happens to me this weekend. Because if they search your technology, you’re f*cked. 
 

Who says I’m not romantic?

Tags: , , ,

I have *just* the gift for you.

30 Dec

What? It's just a foot spa.

Backstory: I live below an otherwise nice guy (Matthew) who makes a ridiculous amount of noise. I’m convinced he and his partner (Jack) actually stable a horse and lead it from room to room with bowling balls dragging behind it periodically. Did I mention that they have hard wood floors?

The following is a transcript from my chat with Alan this morning.

Alan:  hi there! how was yoga this morning?

me:  great! matthew helped ensure i made it by firing up the stomping machine around 5am.

Alan:  i guess he’s good for something once in a while

Alan: maybe we should have gotten him and Jack christmas presents – like weight loss videos?

me:  or amputatations  😀

Alan: do they have gift certificates for that? or would we just offer to do an amateur job for them?

me:  give them a wood chipper

Alan:  nice

me:  and tell them it’s a foot spa!

Alan:  maybe we should have gotten them really big, fluffy slippers with super-padded soles

me:  filled with razor blades!

Alan:  okay. we’re not going the compromise route this morning. I get it. 

Tags: , , ,

Just another hot Saturday night, out on the town.

7 Dec

His & Hers: Saturday Night Fashion

Apparently, I am officially Old As Shit. I hadn’t realized this until Alan and I – desperate to watch the MSU/Wisconsin championship game this Saturday – ventured to the bar next to my condo.

Quick back-story: I don’t own a television. It’s usually not a big deal, but when there’s a live sporting event (that determines if your team will go to the Rose Bowl), the system kind of breaks down. To his credit, Alan tried to be cool about missing the game (It’s OK, I’ll watch the DVR of it when I get home in the morning), but he’d had a pretty stressful Saturday, so I thought an attempt was at least in order.

“Let’s go see if Local 16 has it on. If so, we’ll order a drink and sit at the bar to watch it.” Alan seemed enthusiastic, so we both pulled on hoodies and headed out. Mind you, only minutes before we’d been sitting around in pajamas (by which I mean men’s t-shirts and boxer shorts) watching something on Netflix, so our idea of dressing up for a Saturday night out meant adding shoes and hoodies. Klassy, with a K.

So we rolled into Local 16, and after a few minutes, we gathered that no one sitting at the bar actually cared what football game was broadcast, so we took control of the remote and changed the channel. We Are Sparta!

Continue reading →

Tags: , , , , ,

I did that. Did I do that?

22 Nov

Have I mentioned that Alan and I enjoy wine? I would go so far as to say we’re oenophiles, but then I’d have to pronounce it. And as I’ve stated before, I’m not so hot when it comes to zee French.

We’ve each had our fair share of ridiculously amazing bottles, but we’re open to trying just about anything, as long as it’s wet and made from grapes. I momentarily forgot that last week after we drove from Urbanna to Williamsburg. We’d been in the car for an hour when we saw a sign pointing down a dirt road for the Williamsburg Winery. When Alan asked if I wanted to go, I made a weird gargling sound before saying, “Nah! Virginia wines aren’t very good.”

Fortunately, Alan ignored me and made the turn. But – because he’s a nice guy – he immediately stopped and, before proceeding, said, “Your call. But it’s a gorgeous day. Want to just check it out?”

When presented that way, how could I say no? Yet I continued to hem and haw as we drove through the vineyards on our way to the winery. “My thing with tastings,” I explained (because I always have a thing), “Is that I feel obligated to buy something. And if the wine sucks, I don’t want to. So I feel guilty, like one of those people who eats samples at Whole Foods as their dinner.”

Alan, being level-headed and understanding, said, “Let’s just check it out. If there’s a paid tasting, maybe we can do that without you feeling guilty. And if not, we can bail.” Good plan. And as it turns out? They did offer a paid tasting – $10 per person with a tour of the cellar and tastes of seven different wines — plus a few bonus pours.

I won’t keep you in suspense: I loved it. Who cares if Virginia will never be Napa? Not me. It was a gorgeous fall day – crisp breeze, bright blue sky, colorful trees, temperature somewhere around 65. And a retired college professor from William & Mary who loved wine was doing the talking and pouring. What’s not to like?

Continue reading →

Tags: , , , , ,

Clearly, I’ve seen too many movies.

10 Nov

Sunday, in the wake of the Oyster Festival, Urbanna was a different town. With only an occasional person on the street in comparison to the thousands from the previous day, it felt almost ghostly. Both Alan and I were mildly creeped out by it, which might explain why my brain gravitated toward paranoia.

The owners of the B&B were incredibly nice people, with an expansive sense of hospitality. They took a shine to Alan and me, so they offered to take us out on their boat Sunday afternoon.

The day was gorgeous – 70 degrees and sunny with a bright blue sky. The trees lining the river were vivid shades of red, orange and yellow. It was like being in a commercial for the Rappahannock River or – in keeping with my general paranoia – a horror movie.

So instead of simply relaxing and absorbing the scenery as we shuttled up the river, I started looking around nervously, imaging that they were taking us somewhere to kill us. Spotting a shovel on the deck, I envisioned our captain whacking Alan in the head with it, then pushing him overboard. The phrase “watery grave” danced in my head.

After we returned to the B&B (safely, I might add), I told Alan what I’d been thinking.

He laughed. “And what would their plan be with you after they killed me?”

“Human trafficking? Indentured servitude? Take your pick!” I was a bit indignant that he didn’t give me credit for having value to them. Alan just rolled his eyes.

So, before our next vacation, I have it all figured out. Depending on where we’re going, I’ll rent a few movies for him:

  • If we’re staying at a B&B again: Psycho 
  • Water-based vacation: Cape Fear
  • Writing/skiing retreat: The Shining
  • Iowa: Children of the Corn
  • Pennsylvania: Dracula (C’mon! It sounds kind of like Transylvania)
  • Camping: Blair Witch Project

Then we’ll see who’s laughing. And who’s holding a shovel.

Tags: , , , ,

← Older Entries
Newer Entries →