I have five followers! And three people posted comments. OK, I know all of them, but I still feel like I'm moving up in the world, and someday, if I'm very lucky, I may get comments from people I don't know YET, but hope to know...
I was reading one of my OTHER favorite blogs this morning, The Pioneer Woman (www.thepioneerwoman.com). In her Home & Garden section, she was giving a blogtour (is that a word?) of a hotel she recently stayed at in Hollywood. It is a W Hotel and is tres chic. It reminded me of a cute story: A few weeks ago, I went out with my posse (ie: girlfriends, sistahs...) for a goodbye dinner just before I left Green Bay to move up north and into Truckingville. After a lovely dinner at Fratello's where we terrorized the poor young waiter to the point that I'm sure he went home and cried, we moved next door to the lobby of the Aloft Hotel, to hang out. The lobby is very cool, with lots of comfy seating and games to play, and a two-sided fireplace, one side inside and the other in a center courtyard...Anyway, the Aloft is apparently also a W Hotel. Well, most of us Wisconsin bumpkins didn't know what a W Hotel was, that it is apparently the NAME of a chain of hotels. And, one of my favorite people in the whole world, we'll call her Jenny to protect the innocent (in other words, I wouldn't want you thinking that anybody EXCEPT Jenny could possibly have come up with this) confessed that she thought it was all one word: Whotel, pronounced at the start like the word "whole". We laughed so hard and kept referring to the whotel for the rest of the evening.
This morning I ordered our new truck mattress from mattressinside.com. I hope it is everything it appears to be. It's made out of that memory foam stuff and is 8 inches thick. I also hope it comes BEFORE Mr. Trucker arrives to fetch me. I texted him to tell him that it is on order and he texted me back that he wished I could cross the Mackinac bridge with him, as he is picking up a load of beer in Syracuse, NY, and taking it to Marquette, Michigan. Aside from the fact that I'm certain they go through a LOT of beer in Marquette, particularly in the winter when it is 127 degrees below zero with 65 feet of snow...I am JEALOUS as all get-out that he gets to go across Big Mac without me. That is MY bridge, I'm the one who grew up in Michigan and he shouldn't get to cross it without me. Never mind the fact that I'm usually petrified to cross it, and once even seriously considered letting the bridge authority people drive me over. Two memorable crossings stand out in my mind: On my first honeymoon, when my first husband thought it would be an awesome idea to teach me how to drive a stick-shift car while simultaneously driving (for the first time as a driver) the country's longest (I think) suspension bridge, at 5 miles long. And have I mentioned yet that I am terrified of heights? Well, I am. The second most memorable crossing was when I was driving my two little daughters across to visit their Grandma in lower Moichigan and they kept saying things like "Mommy, look down, see the boats." "Wow, it's a really long way down there." "What keeps the bridge from falling?" while I was white knuckling the steering wheel and saying "Shut up! Don't talk to me right now!".
I am hoping the fact that my beloved will be in the Upper Peninsula means they are working him this direction so that he can scoop in and pick me up soon. It's only about 5 hours from here.