The social butterflies that S & I are (joke, ha ha) we were invited to three New Year’s parties. (We only made it to two – sorry we missed your shindig Dolce & Gabbana – sounds like it was off the hook!) ;o) After some cocktails and appetizers at the Darling’s, we headed up to the (almost) top of twin peaks to Niki/Bill/Tony’s party. Luckily, it wasn’t cloudy or foggy that night and we had (I kid you not) bridge-to-bridge views. S thought that the New Year’s fireworks weren’t as impressive as before because they looked so small from where we were. The “playroom” at this house was somewhat complete: mini dancefloor (Tony’s a DJ on the side) complete with lights and disco ball, pool table and a foos-ball table. It was only at 2am when some of the boys decided to play poker – so Shelley, another poker widow, and I headed back to my house to get some sleep. (Good thing we didn’t stay since S & Adam didn’t get home until after 5am!)
So the last day of my holiday break – I start to feel a little sick: sore throat, coughs, stuffy nose. I go back to work Tuesday, but take off the rest of the week. So that’s how I started off my new year: sick! 😮
Please, sir, may I have another?
I’m finally over whatever I had – but still exhausted. Work has just consumed me. You know you’re working too much when work people and places are in your dreams. When I started this blog, I promised not write too much about work, good or bad, but I’ll just leave it at this: my department is grossly understaffed and all the work that my previous boss was doing was absorbed by, no not my new boss, but by me. Ugh.
THE calendar
Other than that, not much is going on around Chez Rebaud. The latest big hullabaloo was over my Christmas gift from my in-laws. Interesting, very interesting. So, S, their first born son, received a cartoon depicting the history of his name. I, on the other hand, get a calendar. Not just any calendar, but a calendar of the French rugby team. No big deal, right? So S & I open up the calendar, hmm, okay, these men are nude…hmm, this one’s got his hand on his crotch…oh my!…there are definintely more than 12 months in this calendar…what! why are there so many months!!! I was cracking up (I try and look for the humor in life)! This is my gift from my parents in-law? Did his dad pick this up? His mom? S, on the other hand, didn’t think it was that funny and was upset that his parents had sent me a gift like this: “what are they trying to say with this?” So, it turns out that every year the French rugby team puts out this calendar and the women in France go crazy over them and buy them up. Maman Rebaud thought, well, the women in my office are buying them, maybe K would appreciate it. Completely harmless…but funny at the same time. S has asked not to send the calendar on a yearly basis. (The calendar is now in my mom’s hands and the women at her office are just having a blast with it!)
Neighborhood haps
So, our neighbor that puts his trash/recycle/compost bins in the parking spot in front has resorted to leaving parking his rusty old truck in the spot so we don’t use it. What an a**.
There was a nasty accident last weekend a couple houses up from us. I guess someone lost control of their car, jumped the curb, ruined 2 front lawns, totaled a BMW 325i, which in turned was pushed into the house next door, leaving cracks and open spaces in the wall. The most awful part about it was that the people who own owned the BMW were out of town.
That’s about it for now…peace out!