Laws of gravity

This morning at 7 a.m., Max was up and Adrian put him in bed with me while he got ready for work. As usual, Max was ready for action and I was still trying to open my eyes. As he crawled around on the bed, I had hold of his ankle so as to keep him from launching off and onto the floor. Let's just say my grip wasn't strong enough...

Coming soon?

Our "coming soon" sign is finally up on the outside of our building and the contractor is busily hammering. I'm told we're to open sometime in June. You are all invited to our grand opening party, etc. Adrian and our partners Steve and Barb have been working night and day (literally) on finalizing our SBA loan, tinkering with the building contract, keeping our budget in line, etc. Our other partner, Deniece, is interviewing potential employees, which has been interesting...last week she talked to someone claiming to be a "dog whisperer." And, I'm focused on the grassroots marketing -- visiting local vets and groomers -- and working with the CBW marketing people on our soft- through grand opening media/pr. Next week I'll start approaching travel agents (we have a cross promotion program for them). It has been a long road, but it seems as though the end is in sight.

"Denny Crane"...er...I mean "Adrian Herrera"

Here's Adrian's latest quotable quotation..."Work is always a s*&t sandwich. When you go to another job, you're just trading one flavor for another...except hopefully with a little mayo."

Other eye-rollers include (as he looks in the mirror), "Daaaaaamn, I get better looking everyday." And (when he's off to the gym), "Time to improve on perfection."

Um, yeah. Folks, this is the world I inhabit. Send sympathy cards to: Leah Herrera, 1716A No. Main St. PMB 291, Longmont, CO 80501.

You had to be there

So, tomorrow my best friend Stephanie (we've known each other since we were 18, were sorority sistas and then roommates) are meeting some old college friends for brunch. These gatherings inevitably call to my mind myriad happenings from those wonderful days, which are now over a decade old. Most of them make me laugh uncontrollably, while others make me sigh with regret (not very many, thank God) or blush with embarrassment (there are lots of those).

In the midst of these memories, my husband usually asks me why I have such a strange smile on my lips...like I know a really good secret. I just shrug. Honestly, if I tried explaining what's so amusing, no one would get it anyway. As with many things in life, you just had to be there to see it for yourself.

For example, that old country song -- I think it's called Blue Bayou? -- came on the radio the other day. It was a song we played over and over again, singing at the top of our lungs, while driving around Greeley at all hours doing "drive bys." This is when you drive by a guy's house, apartment or workplace to see a) if they're there, b) who might be there with them and, c) if we can see in their windows to see what they're doing. I think the authorities call this stalking now.

Then there was the time Steph and I showed up at a house party and didn't know a soul...go inside to find the place packed like sardines, a wierd garage band playing in the tiny basement, and everyone passing around what we thought were cigars but turned out to be really enormous joints. We did not inhale. That's the same night there were two grown men, dressed as elves and wearing red/white striped Pippy Longstocking socks, taking turns pushing each other in a grocery cart around our apartment parking lot in the middle of the night. This is the same apartment where our roommate would hide her toilet paper (including the one currently being used) when she left because she didn't want us to use her bathroom when she was gone. She hid her telephone too.

Our friend Julie had this sketchy boyfriend for a while. He would get up at 3 a.m. every day to "go to work." He told her he was a stock broker and had to be at work so early because his clients were all from Asia and that's when their trading market opened. She was really impressed, until she found out he had a newspaper route. He also went to class and did homework...she found out later he was had been kicked out of the university months before and just kept going to class to hang out with his friends and pick up girls.

And I haven't even gotten to the funny stuff yet.

I could go on and on. It's all good, all worthy of the strange smile I have on my lips right now, and probably only hilarious if you were there and lived it. TTFN.

Late nights with a book

I hate it when I get hijacked by a good book. I'm reading "The Other Boleyn Girl" and have become obsessed. I read it every free moment I have and can't wait until it is finished so that I can have my life back. When I was a teenager, in the summertime I would blissfully read book after book, usually at night until 3 or 4 a.m. It was awesome. I loved those late nights alone with a book and my imagination...but, then, I had the luxury of sleeping in as late as I wanted the next morning. What were other teenagers doing? It certainly could have been worse. ;-)

Flash forward 20 years and I was up until 2:30 a.m. last night reading this damned book, then up with Max at 4 and 8:30 a.m. Sometimes I think might be better to read the mediocre than to get swept up completely in the best. Naw...I'd never. Any candidates for my future obsessions and sleep loss out there? I can't wait.

Maxie G's two teeth

Caviar dreams, fish stick budget

Yesterday, we ran around and did all kinds of stuff...today Max and I are dragging butt. He's been sleeping a lot and I am just tired. No naps for mommy. Adrian took the day off yesterday and we went to a nursery to look at shrubs (the Herrera excitement continues), had a landscaper over to give us an estimate on the front yard...and during our travels saw an open house for a still-being-constructed $800K house in a neighborhood we like. Unwisely, we stopped and went inside. It was an absolutely gorgeous palace (with no yard, of course, and close enough to the next house to have to share a driveway) with a master suite that our entire second floor could fit in. Custom everything. Crown molding everywhere, even in the garage. With stars in our eyes, living on one income and soon opening a business, we eagerly calculated that if we ate ramen noodles for the next five years and sold our cars, we could definitely afford the place. "To hell with Max's college fund! Yahoo! We're moving!" Luckily, there was no salesperson around. By the time we got home, we had come to our senses and trudged with leaden feet and downcast gaze into our hovel of a home. ;-) Just kidding...we realized our house ain't so bad because we don't have to eat ramen and Max can have a college fund! (Plus, who wants to clean all that square footage?) Ha ha!