Dating in the Dark = Cringing in the Light

Well, against my better judgment, I tuned in to watch this week's episode of Dating in The Dark. I can't help it. It draws me in like the Hunting Channel does sometimes - totally against my will. I sat down, propped my feet up, clenched my butt, and turned the TV on.

So again we have three girls and three guys who come to the House of Horror to meet in the dark. They come from their separate wings of the house and enter the dark room to meet as a group. They all sit around a table talking louder than normal and laughing a little too easily at bad jokes. Since they can't see anything around them, they spend a lot of time talking to the table or to the space above each other's heads. It's amazing to me that even their inability to see where they should be talking makes me nervous for them. What does that say about me?

And then begin the individual dates . . . and the awkwardness I love to hate.

First, we see a series of individual dates that leave me nervously saying things like "Oh my gosh, I would NEVER do that." For instance, Sasha (obnoxious red head who thinks she's pretty darn sexy) decides to play the ever popular game of "Let's feel each other's profiles" with Chris. She feels his profile and he just lets her do it and laughs. There is definitely a "ha ha - this is funny" feel in the air. Then he goes to feel hers and suddenly Sasha brings out her best "I want to be a porn star" look. He clumsily runs his entire hand down her profile - and I mean CLUMSILY - and she closes her eyes, opens her mouth, and puts her head back as if this if the most sensual experience she's ever had. As his fingers come down across her lips, she tries to grab one with her mouth. He just laughs and moves on, clueless about the hilarity that just happened. I thank the Lord for the invention of the infrared camera.

Then Jenn has a date with Chris and she asks what ALL girls ask on the first date: "Will you do push ups with me on your back?" I roll my eyes and groan at the cheesiness but secretly promise myself that if a man ever does push ups with me on his back, I will marry him right then and there. Mark my words . . . I will.

All the girls like Chris and really want to just compete for him. But the show pairs them up according to compatibility and then we have to see the compatibility dates with the three couples. I think to myself that these should be entertaining. And by "entertaining," I mean "gut-wrenchingly awkward." But that's what does it for me, folks.

Date 1: Chris and Megan. Chris brings Megan a plate of 6 different foods that she must taste and guess what they are. For the record, I would hate this little game because I'd be afraid of what food he would put in my mouth. If he put fish or mayonnaise or, heaven forbid, mayonnaise-covered fish in my mouth, I would slap him and walk out. And the infrared camera would catch all kinds of faces of anxiety and fear on my face as he put the next sample in. No thank you. Megan was a good sport, though. Her first bite was an apple and she correctly named it. Then she said it was a bad apple and quickly looked for somewhere to spit it. Then she realized that she couldn't see anything so she had to spit it in her hand. Chris, ever the gentleman, tells her to put it in his hand so that he can put it on the plate. She complies bashfully and I instantly like this girl. I mean, how can you NOT like a girl who has to spit out an apple into a guy's hand on their first date?? That's a girl I can relate to. She names all 6 items correctly and then he tells her that she gets to pick her reward. I'm sure he was expecting her to say she wanted a kiss. But, instead, she says she wants him to tickle her arm. I totally want to be her friend.

Date 2: Sasha and Billy Ray. Neither of them are pleased with this match-up but they sit on the love seat and talk. Sasha goes in for her apparent killer question: "How soon after you start dating will you be ready to get married?" I clench my butt. He scratches his cheek nervously and utters "Oh Good Lord." I like this guy. Then he says, shrugging his shoulders: "I don't know - maybe a year or two years??" Then she sits up and says "See, my answer would be 'I might not EVER be ready.'" She has a triumphant air that suggests that she might want to follow that statement up with "Boooooooyah!" I'm confused because I can't figure out why she thinks she has scored some victory. And Billy Ray makes a face that suggests that he feels the same way I do. Yep - I like him. I begin wondering if he can do push ups with me on his back.

Date 3: Phil and Jenn. Phil is super cute and a Marine. What else to do you need to know, girl?? I look at Phil's muscles and think that THIS is the guy she should ask to do push ups. But, instead, she sits on the love seat and talks to him while she secretly pines away for Chris. Then Phil suggests that they do some salsa dancing. Have you ever seen salsa dancing in the pitch black? It wasn't pretty, friends. Poor Phil ends the date with no chemistry. Not even an arm tickle . . .

Then all the girls choose to go on another date with Chris. He is flattered that they have ditched the other guys and are only interested in him. The girls come in the room and he is sitting on the love seat with his arm up on the back of the seat, looking cocky. I roll my eyes. Jenn brings strawberries and whipped cream and decides to feed them to him. Why can't people realize that this is not going to be the sexy move they think it will be if they can't see the other person's mouth. I watch her dip a strawberry in the whip cream and then ram it into his nose. Then his chin. Then the side of his mouth. And then his mouth. He's got whipped cream all over his face. It's awesome.

This new cocky Chris decides he's going to kiss all of them. When Megan was on the love seat with him, she was talking about her family and you see Chris take his index finger and start moving it toward her lips. He's going for the finger-on-lip-shhhhhhhhhhh-don't-say-a-word-just-kiss-me move. But he can't see anything so it makes it difficult. But it's hilarious to watch the approach. His finger hits her chin and then the side of her mouth and then he says "I'm going to do something." Huh? She stops talking and looks concerned. Then he puts his finger on her lips and she says something that makes me love her even more: "I've got red lipstick on." She says it with a tone that's sweet but also says "I better not get out there and see that you've smeared my red lipstick all over my face." She's awesome. I begin to wonder if she can do push ups with me on her back.

Chris goes in for the kiss with Jenn and she says what every guy wants to hear in the moment after their kiss: "Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww." What?? What kind of reaction is that? I'm sure he wished he could take back the "WOW!" that he exclaimed after they kissed. Then he has his date with Sasha and she goes in for the kiss with him. I think for a second that she is trying to eat his face off and then I realize she's just trying to kiss him. She ends by biting his upper lip with gusto. He looks traumatized. I've got one eye closed and am making the face you make when you're about to get hit in the face with a ball and you see it coming. It's awful to watch.

Then comes the big reveal. They all choose to see Chris so he's the only bachelor who goes in the reveal room. He seems pleased with all of them and then says that Megan is a bigger girl than he normally dates. I think he's an idiot because she's precious and he owes her another date for messing up her red lipstick. Then he sees Sasha and says that she is also a bigger girl than he's used to and that he's not attracted to red heads. He's probably not into girls who try to rip his upper lip off, either. Then he sees Jenn and, not surprisingly, she is totally his type because she's fit. Or at least the most fit of the three. So he wants to go forward with Jenn. I pronounce him Supreme Idiot for not picking Megan since she was the one he liked the most in the dark and she was SO cute, too.

Remember from last week that one person goes out on the balcony and they have to wait to see if the other comes out the balcony door to pursue the relationship OR if they go out the front door of the house without looking back. Chris goes out on the balcony hoping to see Jenn. The hitch is that any of the girls can choose to walk out on the balcony to choose HIM so there could potentially be an awkward moment if the wrong girl walks out. My shoulders get tense and I think how an arm tickle would relax me. Then I think no, it would tickle and make me more tense. Then I think PAY ATTENTION TO THE SHOW, CATHERINE!!

Chris looks at the balcony door then at the front door. Then the balcony. Then the front door. I'm biting my nails. We hear a door knob and we see that it's Megan coming out the front door. I shout "Good for you, girl!!" and get ready for the next stressful moment. Chris looks back and forth and I start sweating. Then Sasha comes out the front door. I shout "Good for you, Chris!" Seriously - that chick was crazy.

Then comes the moment of truth. Will Jenn come out on the balcony or will he be rejected by all three. The camera shows the balcony door and the front door as the music builds. I have my remote control in hand, ready to throw it at the TV if they go to a commercial break. Then the front door opens, and Jenn walks out! Poor Chris is left up on the balcony with no one!

It's painful. It's awkward. It's embarrassing.

It's WONDERFUL.

Pizza and a drunken orgy . . .

Recently, I had lunch with my mom and some friends at an Italian restaurant in The Woodlands called Grotto Ristorante. In Grotto, there is a colorful mural on the walls that starts on the walls by the bathroom and wraps around the entire restaurant. I've eaten there several times, but have never really paid close attention to what is depicted in the mural. On this recent visit, however, I took a closer look.

And I might never be the same.

I'm not sure if the artist of this mural was high, drunk, sexually frustrated, or a combination of all three. I think the latter is the most likely. He has chosen to decorate the walls of the restaurant with various scenes of what can only be described as a drunken orgy. So I took some pictures to share with you and I've taken the liberty of giving titles to my favorite parts . . .

Title: "Do I smell something next door?"
Hands down - this lady has THE worst nose I've ever seen. I'm quite certain she can smell things from 3 miles away. Whenever I am unhappy with any body part of mine, I will remember this lady and thank the Lord that He spared me in the schnoz department. And what's going on with the guy on the left? He needs a blood transfusion STAT. I bet that lady is jealous of his nose. I think the artist was sexually frustrated here because of the phallic nose and the cleavage shot.

Then, as if to say "You think THAT'S cleavage?" . . .

Title: "Masquerade: They'll NEVER recognize me."
If my head is ever that small compared to my boobs, please shoot me. And please shoot that guy who's trying to cop a feel. Artist: sexually frustrated . . . is there really any question on this one?

Title: "Thank goodness for martini glasses."
I don't know what's worse - her dress or her hat? And if this lady ever tries to give me a high five, I'm gonna politely decline . . . check out her hand. That thing could hurt someone if used irresponsibly on a high five. And what's going on with the other lady and the perverted little man? Artist: sexually frustrated . . .

Title: "Cheers! . . . Do you feel a breeze?"
Seriously, guy? You need to see someone about this.

Title: "Ummmmm . . . I asked for SALT on the rims . . ."
Apparently, the artist was so focused on his . . . ummmm . . . frustrations, that he forgot to paint fingers for her. How is she supposed to eat her fish? Well, I guess if you need someone to help you eat, that's the way to get volunteers . . .

Title: "Tragedy at Table 10"
I think the artist was just trying to paint a drunk clown who is passed out at a restaurant . . . who hasn't, right? BUT I think he was too drunk himself to pull it off. Instead, it looks like a beheaded clown with green blood dripping down the table cloth. Artist: drunk and very possibly high.

Title: "Makeout session"
This is a depiction of a scene we're all familiar with: a chef and his wife make-out while the Mafia looks on and a masked court jester sneaks off with the dinner. Ah . . . classic. Artist: high as a kite.

Title: "We've GOT to start eating at another restaurant."
Wow. Where do I start? I count 3 phallic noses, 1 peeping pervert, 1 table dancer, 1 court jester dancing around the table, and one of the characters from Popeye in the right corner. This artist has some serious problems.

Title: "Drag Queen Engagement"
If get upstaged on MY engagement night by a green, mouthless, cross-eyed waiter holding a pig-baby wearing a toupee, I'll be SO mad. Artist: needs to check into some sort of substance abuse program.

Title: "B-b-b-b-BOCK . . . drunk girl down!"
Why is this girl passed out? Why is she wearing a french maid's outfit? Why is there a chicken looking at her? Why is the clown beheaded? I think it's obvious folks . . . the artist is three sheets to the wind. And frustrated.

Title: "What the . . .?"
I really don't know what's going on here. There are so many things that I don't understand - the dog peeking out from behind the waiter, the snake around the bird, the guitar player in the background, the horned alien popping up from a firey manhole with a pitchfork . . . Am I high? No - the artist is. BIG TIME.

My mom and I went around the restaurant taking pictures and hoping that the manager wouldn't kick us out for doing so. We went back to the table and laughed at how strange and ridiculous that mural was . . . who the heck comes up with that stuff?? What was his "inspiration?"

And then I saw where my mom had chosen to stow her cell phone . . .
And I knew we had to get out of there STAT.

Before someone started to paint her.

My mom . . . God bless 'er.

I know I've blogged about my mom before but, God love 'er, she just gives me so much material to work with. Like, for example, tonight she was saying that my niece was dancing like "Miss Gaga." My sister Erin looked at her and said "like WHOM???" My mom knew she had messed up so she thought for a second, smiled when she realized her mistake, and triumphantly stated "MADAME Gaga."

It was then that I decided that it had been too long since I had blogged about Nora.

My mom is terrible with cars. I mean, I've really never seen anything like it. I used to drive a black Mustang and she was ALWAYS getting it confused with other cars. I picked her up for lunch one day in said Mustang and I parked it toward the back of the parking lot. After lunch, we walked back toward my car - Correction: I walked back toward my car. My mom, on the other hand, walked toward every black car in the parking lot. First, she started heading toward a black Grand Am until I said "No, Mom - that's not mine." Then she walked toward a black Camaro until I said "Nope." After that, she walked toward a gray Honda Civic with the entire back end smashed in so I said "Still not it" and started laughing at her. She shook her head and said "You kids - you think it's so easy." I very kindly pointed out to her that that one SHOULD have been easy since she hadn't heard me talking about getting rear-ended lately. But she just ignored me and followed me to my car. I handled it very maturely by calling my sisters and Jill and laughing with them while my mom sat in my passenger seat, shaking her head and saying "You kids . . ."

That Mustang really threw her off when I had it. After I bought my house, my mom was following me to my new place. She had only been there a couple of times and isn't great with directions . . . but that's a whole other blog, friends. So I knew if I lost her, she wouldn't be able to find my house. I looked back in my rearview mirror and saw her behind me. A few minutes later, I looked for her again and she was gone. I was so confused. It was pretty late at night and there were very few people on the road so I had no idea how I could have lost her. I slowed down thinking she had just dropped too far behind me but she never re-appeared. Unfortunately, she had left her cell phone at home so I couldn't call her up to see where the heck she was. It was all very strange.

I decided to just go on to my house to wait for her, hoping that she'd find her way there. But she never showed up. Instead, about 45 minutes later she called me to tell me that she was back home. I asked her where she had gone and she told me that she had been following me and was wondering why I was taking such a circuitous route to my house. She thought it seemed strange that I was going through a bunch of different neighborhoods and wondered why none of it seemed familiar. And then "I" pulled into a driveway and got out of "my" car. That's when my mom realized that she had been following a man driving a black Honda Accord. And then she realized that she had no idea where she was or how the heck to get back home. The guy got out of his car and looked at my mom, who was sitting at the foot of his driveway. She rolled down her window and said "Ummmm . . . excuse me. I thought you were my daughter. But CLEARLY you're not. I've been following you and now I have no idea where I am . . ." He proved to be a good stand-in for me because he laughed and laughed and THEN gave her directions back home. I couldn't have done better if I'd been there myself.

You would think after getting made fun of so much on this topic, she would have spent the last few years improving her knowledge about cars. Not so much. The other day, she stopped by my house to pick something up while I was at work. There was a car in the driveway that she didn't recognize so she called me and said "Catherine, there's a Sonata Hyundai in the driveway." I heard her clearly but I just wanted her to say it again so I said "A what?" She answered innocently "A black Sonata Hyundai." I assured her that it was my roommate's car and resisted the temptation to ask her about her "Impala Chevy" or my "Mustang Ford." Instead, I just decided that I'd blog about her total ignorance when it comes to cars.

Cuz I'm sweet like that.

Oh, Nora . . . what would I do without you?

More to Dread

Clearly the lineup of shows this summer is designed to make me uncomfortable. The producers from all the different networks got together and said "You know that Catherine chick? Let's make her sweat bullets." And let me tell ya, friends - they're accomplishing that goal. We already talked about "Dating in The Dark" which had me in the fetal position for most of last night. I honestly thought that no other show could make me want to crawl under a table quite like that one.

And then I watched "More to Love." OH . . . MY . . . GOSH.

PLEASE tell me you watched it. PLEASE tell me that you have set it to record every week so that you won't miss an episode. In case you missed it, let me sum it up for you: it's "The Bachelor" for "full-figured" people . . . hence "More to Love." Get it? At first I thought it was a great idea and was totally ready to love it. I mean, who WOULDN'T love a show about some NORMAL looking people for once, right?? But after watching the first episode tonight, I'm not really sure about the whole thing. I thought the show was going to be about how these girls are a little on the heavy side but no big deal. Instead, the focus of the show appears to be how hard love has been for them because of their weight. It's not the direction I thought they were going so I have to adjust my expectations, I guess. But regardless of where they go with it, I'm gonna be tuned in every week hating that I love it.

So let me tell you what I love and hate about it so far . . .

LOVE . . . Some of the girls were actually talking about Spanx. How funny is that?? When have you ever seen a show where the "leading ladies" talk about wearing Spanx? Awesome.

HATE . . . You know how on reality shows, they generally put the name, age, hometown, and occupation of a contestant on the screen when that contestant is talking to the camera? Like, if Shelly is talking about how excited she is to be here blah blah blah, the producers put "Shelly; Austin, TX; 29; Receptionist" on the screen. Well, on this show, THEY PUT THEIR FREAKIN' WEIGHT. Are you kidding me??? So poor Shelly's information now reads "Shelly; Austin, TX; 29; Receptionist; 5' 5", 227 lbs." And that goes up on the screen EVERY TIME SHE TALKS. Why?? Why do we need this?? We can SEE she is full-figured so why do we need her weight to remind us. Poor girls!!

There's no way I'd let them put my weight up there repeatedly throughout the season. I remember telling my mom once that if I ever went missing and she decided to put Missing Person ads out, she better not put my weight down. I told her if she did, I'd never come home. She would, effectively, be driving me into the arms of my captors and they would become my new family. So why anyone would sign up for a show where your weight becomes public knowledge over and over and over again is beyond me. My armpits are sweating just typing about it.

LOVE . . . I think it's hilarious that there's more cleavage on this show than on all the other reality shows combined. And it's not like "I'm trying to be sexy" cleavage, it's more like "my weight goes straight to my boobs" cleavage. Love it!

HATE . . . on the previews for upcoming episodes, they show the girls going to Prom with Luke (the Husky Bachelor . . . oh! that would be a good name for the show!) and there's a bunch of drama. I'm already dreading that episode because I KNOW they're going to milk the whole "I didn't get to go to prom" thing and it's gonna make me feel so awkward and insulted for them. They better not make a joke of these poor girls!!! BUT I will say that if the DJ at the "Re-Prom" plays Baby Got Back, I'm gonna laugh my butt off. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand then I'll cringe at the awkward dancing scenes that will no doubt ensue.

LOVE . . . the girls were standing around talking to Luke about food. I thought that was hilarious. Normally, you'd hear the bachelorettes talking to the Bachelor about his hobbies, his interests, his work-out schedule, or his job. But THESE girls are getting straight to the important stuff and getting the 411 on his favorite dessert. That's my love language, too, girls.

HATE . . . I hate the fact that I'm gonna be completely drawn in by this one and that I'm probably gonna cry for these girls every week. And I hate that it's going to be yet another hour of my week that I'm going to have to spend in the fetal position.

Oh well . . . it's who I am, people.

Love me through it.

My own personal Hell . . .

I just saw my worst nightmare - it's a show called "Dating in the Dark." Have you seen it?? It's my own personal Hell . . . it makes me uncomfortable and nervous . . . it makes me feel insecure for perfect strangers . . . it makes me want to curl up into the fetal position and suck my thumb . . . I LOVE IT. Allow me to tell you about it . . .

The show brings three men and three women together in a house but doesn't let the two sexes see each other; rather, the men stay together and the women stay together in separate parts of the house. The purpose of the show is to see if any of these men and women are compatible with one another before they ever see what each other looks like. It's a great idea. First, they all six meet together in the dark and start to learn each other's personalities. Then the show pairs them all up according to their level of compatibility. Once they are paired up, each couple goes back in the dark room to have a date. In the dark . . . the pitch black. We are watching the interactions with the help of night-vision cameras and we are treated to many awkward scenes. Want some examples? Ok . . .

The first couple comes into the room and the guy has a bowl of melted chocolate. His idea is for them to put their fingers in the chocolate and then put chocolate on some spot they want kissed. So the girl puts some chocolate on her neck and the guy goes in for the kiss. But they're in the dark, you see, so this is extremely awkward to watch. He bumps clumsily into her jaw, then her cheek, then her chin but doesn't find the chocolate. And she's COMPLETELY uncomfortable the whole time which makes ME uncomfortable, too. But I can't stop watching the horror. It's like I want to run from my tv and hug it all at the same time.

The second couple comes in and we see that the girl is carrying a football. She has decided that they are going to play football. Since it's completely dark in the room, they have to keep a hand on each other so that they know where they are. Understandably, this makes it difficult to play football so they end up doing this really awkward wrestling match, instead. I realize that this is a more terrible idea than the chocolate.

The third couple comes in and their date involves a "surfboard" which is really just a skateboard. The guy makes the girl get on it and then he takes the opportunity to feel around her waist to try to figure out if she's his "type" and, clueless, she just giggles away. That's when I start to hate that guy.

Then each guy prepares dinner for his girl and the girl prepares to give him a massage. I watched one of the guys trying to feed his girl in the dark and I found myself trying to direct him to her mouth. Rather than focusing on their chemistry, I'm more concerned about her getting jabbed in the nostril with the fork. This show is stressing me out. And then comes the massage part and I realize I've never known awkward before. I watch these guys lay down on their stomachs and then the girls straddle their backs and try to find the massage lotion. I mean, call me prude, but it would be awkward to massage some random guy on the second date anyway. But the thought of giving a massage to a guy I've never met in the pitch black kinda makes me want to throw up. I can hear myself now asking nervously "Oh wait - that's not your deltoid, is it?"

Yeah, no freakin' way.

After these dates, they get to see each other in the light. Each couple goes back into the room and a light shines upon the guy so that the girl can see what he looks like. Then the light goes off and another light shines upon the girl. So they don't get to see the other person's reaction - they just have to stand there in the spotlight smiling. If I was unsure before, this was the point that confirmed for me that I would be a HORRIBLE contestant on this show because I would totally start sobbing when the light was shining on me and I had no abililty to read his reaction. I mean, I was just sitting on my couch WATCHING it and I was feeling insecure. No way could I do that. I would rather go on Biggest Loser and wear spandex in front of all of America.

Then comes the worst part. If they liked what they saw, they can choose to go out onto a balcony to pursue the relationship or they can choose to walk out the front door of the house and leave the other person behind. I begin biting my nails. So the first girl (chocolate date) comes out on the balcony and waits to see if the guy is going to come out on the balcony, too. But she can also see the front door so she'll be able to see if he decides to ditch her. ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? My armpits are sweating profusely at this point and I'm quite sure I'm starting to hyperventilate. Luckily, the guy walks out and I release the death grip I have on my dog. The next girl (football date) comes out on the balcony and waits for her guy. She is a SUPER cute girl and has written him a card to thank him for letting her be herself. This seems strange to me but to each his own. I wasn't nervous about this one because these two were obviously attracted to each other. She's standing on the balcony waiting for him and then she sees him walk out the front door. He's ditching her. WHAT??? My chest starts itching and I realize I'm breaking out into hives. Poor thing pulls the card out from her back pocket and walks back inside. It was horrible. Then the last couple (surfboard/skateboard) meets out on the balcony and walk off happily ever after and that makes me feel worse for the poor girl who got rejected.

I swear I'll never watch this show again. And then I set my DVR to record it every week.

See, I don't want a guy to get to know me in the dark and then decide if he likes the way I look. That fills me with WAY too much anxiety and makes every one of my insecurities bubble to the surface. I want to start low and work up. If I were ever on a show where strangers had to get to know each other in unorthodox ways, this is what I'd want to do:

First date: Walking my dog on the bike path in the morning when I still have a little bedhead, my hair is dirty, and I have mascara under my eyes. If he can get past that and my morning voice, he gets a second date.

Second date: I meet him at a restaurant on a stormy night. I come in drenched - not the sexy wet look, though, but the "a car just drove threw a puddle and splashed it all over me" look - with my hair matted, mascara running down my face, and dirty water kicked up on the back of my legs. If he can see past that, I could fall in love with him.

Third date: Eating Mexican food. If he isn't intimidated by my unnatural love for fajitas, then he is the guy for me.

Then - and only then - will I massage his deltoids . . .

A Palmore Vacation

Friday in DC was a lot of fun - we squeezed as much in as we could AND enjoyed an awkward moment or two. Because, let's face it - no Palmore vacation is complete without a few awkward moments . . .

On Friday morning we went to Mt. Vernon, George Washington's homestead - what a cool place that was to visit!! I've always loved learning about the American Revolution and I've recently discovered that I love learning about our Founding Fathers, in particular, so I really liked being there. We watched a brief introductory video about the ORIGINAL G Dub and then headed over to tour the mansion. We were waiting in a long line outside the house when we had our first awkward moment of the day.

As we were standing in line, a lady walked out wearing a tiara and a beauty pageant sash that read "Ms. Senior America" or something to that effect.

She walked past us and we found ourselves caught in an uncomfortable eye contact with her and forcing ourselves to smile as if we gave a crud that Ms. Senior America was among us. And then she did it - she did the pageant wave. It was so embarrassing. For her.

We headed back to the city so that we could hit the Smithsonian before it closed. We decided to start at the National Museum of American History and then try to get over to the Air and Space Museum. My mom was pretty determined to get through the exhibits quickly so that, in her words, "we can get to the Aerosmith one before it closes." That's "Air and Space", friends. We blew through exhibit after exhibit and stopped to admire Mary Lincoln's gown, the Ruby Slippers from the Wizard of Oz, and a poster of Stephen Colbert. Did you just do a double-take at that one? So did we. Not sure how he made it into the Smithsonian but he did . . .

We wrapped up at the National Museum of American History and decided to forgo the "Aerosmith" one because we were all tired and it was pretty late. So, instead, we headed over to a restaurant that had been recommended to Tammy. I forget now what it was called - Old Ebbert Grill or something to that effect. We had to wait a while for our seat and we were SO glad when they finally called our name and led us to our booth. Until we saw what we'd be eating by . . .

WHAT THE . . . Seriously - do I just ATTRACT bad art?? How can you enjoy your meal with this hanging over you? So many Health Department considerations just pop into your mind to distract you. Then you find yourself staring at it like it's a bad wreck and then looking away, wanting to assure everyone around you that you're not a pervert. But when you stand up in middle of the restaurant to take a picture of it, those assurances fall on deaf ears. It was definitely another awkward moment for us . . . thanks, for taking one for the team on that one, Erin.

Then we grabbed a cab back to the hotel.

I've decided that I could never be a cab driver because you have to be ok with awkward silences. And, as you all know, awkward silences kill my soul bit by bit. My mom and sisters are the same way so we like to ask our cab drivers lots of questions. Sometimes we got talkative cab drivers and we LOVED them - we had one who was a gardener and talked to us a lot about flowers and kinda wanted to take him home with us. And we had another who was chatty and imitated other people's voices by using his best Pee Wee Hermann bubble-in-your-throat voice. A bit awkward, yes. But we loved him, too, so we got through it.

Our cab driver from the restaurant that night was not very talkative and gave us yet another awkward moment. He was middle-eastern, pretty quiet, and not really sure what to do with a cab full of Palmores. My mom and sisters were in the back seat talking about Christmas and my mom, in an effort to draw him into the conversation, asked him what kinds of things he got for Christmas when he was a kid. I sunk down into my seat, incredulous that my mom had just asked a Muslim about his favorite Christmas present, and prayed that he would not declare Jihad on us. My butt clenched like it's never clenched before. But he handled it well and said "toys." My butt unclenched and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Saturday morning arrived and it was time for us to head home. We packed up and we headed downstairs to catch our cab to the airport. Our cab driver was GREAT - he was a Hispanic man named Rudy and we loved him. He gave us a bit of a tour of the area on the way to Reagan National and entertained us with stories about some of his previous passengers; he had driven "Chelseas" Clinton to the airport and said that she was a really nice girl and he had also driven a rich Texan who had given him a $700 tip for driving him to the airport.

We felt a BIT awkward tipping him $15 after that . . .

So that was our trip. We got on the plane and got back to Texas safely - primarily because my mom read the directions on what to do if the plane crashed into water . . .
Oh, Nora . . . I don't know what's funnier - the fact that you spent time reading this or the fact that you actually think you'd remember any of it if the plane crashed. You're so entertaining.

Ah, I do love traveling with my fam!!

A day in the life . . .

I've never been so worn out in my LIFE!! Well, that might not be true. But I AM worn out!! We spent a lot of time walking today but it was fun and we got to see lots of stuff. So I thought I'd share our day with you . . .

We're staying at a hotel called the Gaylord National. I know about 10 of you who will giggle at that name. Ironically, there is picture behind the front desk that I'm pretty sure is a drag queen:
The manly jaw and the football player's neck were my first indications. I think if I had been allowed to get closer, I would have seen an Adam's apple. Your thoughts?

ANYWAY, we have lovely rooms that overlook the Atrium of the hotel like so:

It's a bit like a small city! We've gotten lost a couple of times.

So back to our day . . . this morning, we left the Gaylord and the drag queen and went into town. We decided to take the Metro into the District and let me tell you, friends, you've never seen chaos until you've seen the 4 Palmore women trying to figure out the Metro system. But we did it and made some friends in the process, of course. In order to get over to the Metro stop, we had to take a shuttle from our hotel. By the time we got on the bus, it was full so we had to stand. I could tell we weren't in Texas anymore because none of the men stood up to allow us to sit down. I mean, I understand letting my sisters and me stand but someone should have let my mom sit, don't you think? But no such luck. I stood in the aisle and held onto the bar above my head and my armpit was dangerously close to the head of the man who was sitting in the seat next to where I was standing. At first I was concerned that he might not appreciate me airing out my pits so close to his face. Then I remembered that he wasn't being chivalrous so I made sure to get as close to him as possible and used my other hand to waft the air in his direction. But I'm not bitter or anything. :)

We figured out the Metro and took it to Union Station where we bought tickets for a double decker, hop-on hop-off, sight-seeing bus. We hopped ON one of the buses and were excited to see the city. Until we realized that the bus stopped LITERALLY every 15 feet. It was CRAZY!! It would stop at one museum and then go the next museum that was right next door and stop again. So we hopped the heck OFF of that thing and just started walking.

We had to fight the rain all day so we didn't get to spend as much time outside as we thought we would. But we did get to see a lot of the sights. We went to the Jefferson Memorial where my mom had some trouble going down the steps . . .

So Erin tried to help her . . .


Then we thought if she was going to fall, we might as well stage it in an area that would give us a good lawsuit.
We're always thinkin', you know.

We left the Jefferson Memorial and decided to make Tammy get up in a pretty tree that we saw. Somehow that turned into a senior year photo shoot.
Eat your heart out, Ray Sakers!

After that, we got to see the Lincoln Memorial, the Korean War Memorial, the Vietnam War Memorial, the World War II Memorial, the Washington Monument, and a crazy guy who kept walking past us talking into his hand like it was a cell phone. He was my favorite part . . . I do love a good crazy guy.

Then we decided to try to get to the White House visitors' center before it closed so my sisters could get some gifts for the kiddos. On the way there, walking down Constitution, we saw the White House. And even though we were so far away, it was clear that there was a little black dog on the lawn and so we knew that was Bo - the First dog. Or "Bobama," as Erin calls him. Erin also swore she saw President Obama on the lawn. Since Erin somehow turned into a dang liberal during the last election, we had to double-time it so we could get close enough to allow Erin to try to kiss him. As we were walking, Erin's "Obama sighting" got more and more elaborate. It started out as "It was a tall, thin guy" and evolved into "He was wearing like a white shirt and nice black pants" and then turned into "And I think I saw him waving." Then she started sprinting - stinkin' Democrats. :)

"Obama" turned out to be a police officer with the uniformed division of the Secret Service. And I feel quite certain that he never waved. But we DID see Bobama . . .

But the crazy guy was still my highlight.

We came back to the hotel and the skies just absolutely opened up. We had a great view of the lightning out the atrium of the hotel and the thunder was INTENSE. The hotel lost power a couple of times and when it did, the four of responded very maturely by squealing and running to the balcony so that we could see the people trapped in the elevators. I have a new love for glass elevators!! But the hotel would fix the power issue within a few minutes each time so we never got to see anyone panic - not ONE person started screaming and pounding on the glass. It was quite a disappointment.

HOWEVER, the trapped elevator people DID beat out the crazy guy for my favorite part of the day. I'm not really sure what that says about me . . .

So that was our day. Tomorrow we are hoping for better weather during the day so that we can do our tours, bad weather at night so we can eat pizza on the balcony and laugh at claustrophobics stuck in the elevator, and at least one crazy guy to entertain us.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh . . . God bless America!