Saturday, May 31, 2008

Post Vacation Post

I've needed a true vacation for some time . . . "vacations" always seem to really be code for "time off from work to attend a family event". As most of you know, family events are never TRULY a vacation. So how did I know this was truly a "vacation"?

  • Tank top and bikini suntan marks
  • A little extra belly fat, from all the eating we did
  • Liver still processing the nightly bottles of wine and various other alcohols
  • The new navel jewelry
  • The HUGE dent in my bank account
  • The sense of calm and laziness I feel (even with a huge dent in my bank account)

All in all, it was a great week. Our friends are great vacation companions. Living in close confines with two adults and their children can be very telling of your relationship. After hugging them goodbye today, I could honestly say I'd do it again. Soon.

Our kids had a great time. We had an awesome beach house - literally on Mission Beach. Walk across the boardwalk and you're at the ocean. Every day, they ran down to the sand. To play football. To throw the Frisbee. To dig the biggest sand hole they could dig. To tempt the waves, and then race away when the waves came after them. To meet the waves head on, and then go under, spitting saltwater and laughing on the way up.

The husband and I had a great time. We had a babysitter each night, which allowed us to go out as a couple, drink and eat and tell raunchy stories not fit for our children to hear, walk on the boardwalk, hold hands, and be a couple. Not parents. A couple.

Our families had a great time. Besides the beach, we hit Sea World, the San Diego Zoo, and the San Diego Wild Animal Park. Other than the kids getting a little tired from the sun and the walking, they had a great time and every day seemed to give them something new to be excited about. Even the adults had to be a little in awe of Shamu, feeding the dolphins, and the Lorakeets feeding off of our hands.

Unfortunately, reality sets in and the vacation comes to an end. We flew back today, sleepy and sun-drenched . . . with one more day to catch up.

Next weekend the Dr. and I will be in Vegas for an appropriate amount of debauchery . . . until then, I've got to be a good mom, good wife, and good accountant . . .

Which means by the time Friday rolls around, I'll be ready to collect on those free drinks and see how entertaining the Rhino can be.

Until then, enjoy pictures of vacation happiness . . .

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Umm . . . Can I Re-Raise?

We had a fabulous family night last night. Sent the au pair off to visit her family in Brazil for two weeks. As such, we had no restrictions on where to dine (she's got a very particular palate), so our boys chose the Japanese steak house near us. You've never seen two boys eat so much. Or one little boy eat so much of the "A-2" seafood sauce. They give it to us in large bowls, he eats so much.

After dinner, we saw Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. I don't remember a lot of the old Indiana Jones movies like the husband does (or Son #1, for that matter, who has watched them with his dad), but the special effects were great, Harrison Ford a little campy, as expected, and, if you can suspend your disbelief, a great action adventure.


We put the boys to bed and decided to play a little heads up poker. Hold 'Em - Omaha - Stud. Five hands each, blinds go up after each cycle. We're playing our normal play. He, aggressive and playing position, me, more conservative and a little passive, but calling him and catching him bluffing now and then.

We're in the second Omaha round and I am dealt crappy cards. K-9-6-2. Might have had two cards of the same suit. Maybe not. I'm in the big blind. He doesn't raise it, so I check my blind. The flop comes 2-7-2. If I remember, two of the cards are suited. I laugh and say "Wow - good to have the Hammer this hand." DrChako is silent. This should have been my tip off. I have trips, so I bet. He just calls.

The turn card is a 5. No flush possibility yet. But now I have trip 2's, AND an open ended straight draw. I bet. DrChako raises. ???? It's a pretty random board. I think he's just trying to pull my leg at this point. But the board could dissolve at any minute. After all, it is Omaha. Omaha will find a way to screw your made hand at any time.

The river is a 2. I am in disbelief. I bet. DrChako raises. I re-raise. He re-raises. I hear a chorus of angels in my head. They are singing the "You have quad 2's" song. I'm so confused by his bet (into my mortal nuts), and our chips, and I can't remember how many bets we have out there, so I say "Um . . . can I re-raise?"

He looks at me, puzzled, and says "Yeah, you can cap it." So I do. Again, he looks at me puzzled and says "I call. If you have the case 2 . . . "

I turned it over and showed him the bad news. He was PO'd. Capital P. Capital O. (The "d" is still little, cause he's a pretty mellow guy.) He held a pair of 7's and had flopped the full house. I tried to explain that since he kind of slow-played it (and has a history of aggressive betting on draws) that I didn't put him on full house and with trips and an open ended straight draw, I thought I was pretty good. Decimated his chip stack. Of course, when the blinds went up later, he got it all back on a pair of deuces in the next Hold 'Em round. Seems fitting.

We ended the night even - we each took a series. Good game.


Today is a beautiful sunny day in the Seattle area. We will spend part of the day packing as we get ready for a beach vacation. I am ready for the relaxation. And the sunshine. And some good bikini tan lines.

Vegas in two weeks!

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

All That Comes After . . .

After the first sleepless night with tears of self-pity, I attempted to keep my own issues in check and to spend time with family as I intended.


The wedding was beautiful. This part of my family is the closest, most loving group of people we have. They are always there for each other. Always have a hug. This weekend was no different. While I love being independent and on our own, there is something welcoming about this whole gaggle of family members. It's my version of the womb, I guess.


The kids had a blast. They only get to see their cousins once or twice a year. But when they get together, its like they haven't been apart. This kind of sums it up.


The picture above is representative of a truism about children. It matters not how many activities you plan, or how much money you spend. Just make sure the kids have access to a pool, and all will be well. Woe to those unwise parents who rent a hotel with no pool . . .


I sent my family home early. DrChako had work, Son #1 had school, au pair had two classes. I stayed behind with the family women (and one nephew). We spent one evening with my dear, dear godmother (she's a saint here on earth, and I'm not even Catholic). The next morning, we had breakfast together, then went girl shopping. I bought all my ladies a present and had lots of fun being their fashion advisor. I even took my nephew to get him anything he wanted. He was easy. Made his decision before we got in the store. Just wanted an Action Replay for his DS. I love boys. They are so easy.


After a day with family, I had a great dinner with an old friend. At a fru-fru French restaurant. Complete with the French waiter who talked exactly like he had cotton in his mouth. Who recommended French wines with names I couldn't pronounce and offered them to me as if I would know the difference between the choices. I even had ratatouille. I felt so French. Filled my belly with food, my head with conversation.


Back at the hotel, I indulged in one of my guilty pleasures. I love my husband. And when he was gone, I missed having someone in my bed. But once in a while, I love to indulge in a little selfish pleasure. A giant, king-sized bed all to myself. Down duvet. Perfect white sheets. Four giant king-sized pillows. Two for my head. One for each side. Perfect, luxurious comfort. No one to hog my space. Breathe my air. Snore. Make other disturbing sounds.

It was one of the best sleeps I've had in awhile. And the dreams . . .


I'm still not promoted. This year. But we're moving on. Next week, we go on a family vacation with dear old friends. Beach vacation. The following weekend, we're in Vegas. And after that, we move on with the routine of life.

I'm trying to be thankful for those things that I have each day that are good.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Saturday, May 17, 2008

The Waiting Starts . . . Again

Check your ego at the door, Mrs. Chako. Today, I come to you humbled.


I landed in Chicago. There was a voice mail from our area partner. About this time of year, it can only be about one thing, for those of us seeking promotion.

Unfortunately, although I accurately guessed the subject, the answer was not the one I wanted to hear. Not this year, at least.

Big ego blow. Of course, I realized it was a crap shoot. So much of our promotion depends on the economics. The business case. After all, no one wants to share their piece of the pie with the new girl unless the pie is getting bigger. Funny how that works. I got the whole "your package looks great" speech.

Of course my package looks great. Oh, you weren't talking about that package . . .

So now, I spend the next year retooling myself, polishing up the application AGAIN, and working on my package. And the business case.

The upside? No moving. Yet. And finally the Dr., who takes off his rank in less than 2 months and becomes a civilian, can make a choice about what he's going to do when he grows up.

Son #1 is growing up. When I told him, he said "Don't worry, Mom. You'll make it. I know you will."


I know I will too. But it does feel a little better when others are confident too. Thanks, son, at least for knowing the right words to say.

I'm trying to stay positive. Our area partner gave me a couple options, including branching out into a whole new area in our practice. It would be unfamiliar, but maybe a better route. It would mean remaking myself. Again. Which, as you get older, seems to get a little trickier. But maybe I can pull some rabbits out of the hat.

That is, as long as I don't run them over.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Fortune Cookies and Random Thoughts

Yesterday, we went to one of those Mongolian Grill places as a family. We opened the fortunte cookies and shared our fortunes. Here is the family commentary:

DrChako: "The small steps you take will ultimately bring you great fortune." - He clearly thought this related somehow to his poker bankroll.

MrsChako: "You maintain a sense of balance in the midst of great success." - Duh.

Son #1: "Keep in mind your most cherished dreams of the future." - "Oh great, Mom. This means I'll be a football player." ???????!!!!!!?????

Son #2: "Diligence is the mother of good fortune." - Our little guy just laughed and said "That's silly, Mom. You're the mother."


We're off to the Chicago area to attend a family wedding. Its a long way for a short trip, but I only see my family once, maybe twice a year. My mother with smother the good Dr. with hugs, and spoil the grandsons rotten. Grandma will be the practical one. I'll be able to hug my godmother, and her husband, who just had treatment for cancer. See cousins I haven't seen for a long time. Sometimes it's not the length of time you spend with people. It's how much love you can cram into it.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Madame Chako's Guide to the Stars . . . Again

It's been a whole month since I bestowed my divinely inspired spiritual guidance upon you. I know you've all been wandering around aimlessly without my wisdom to guide you. Wander no more. Or at least have an aim to your wandering.

GENERAL: Do your taxes (if, say, you didn't file them last month). Take pictures of flowers. Buy someone flowers. Water your flowers. Watch out for errant bunnies.
  • Aries: You will be rewarded for your good deeds. Just maybe not with the sexual favors you were expecting. Prepare for a journey. Take earplugs.
  • Taurus: A recent windfall has you riding high. Don't spend it all in one place. Others want their share of the pie. Save it for a rainy day. Or a new place.
  • Gemini: Loved ones will with you soon. Enjoy occasions that bring your friends and family close. Your heart deserves a rest.
  • Cancer: The week ahead brings long-awaited surprises. Patience is a virtue. Unwrap your gift slowly. Savor it. Moments are fleeting - make the most of it.
  • Leo: Dust off your skirt, and save your pocket change. People are anxious to see you again. Remember how much fun it can be to herd cats.
  • Virgo: You reach one goal, you fall short of another. Don't worry, you've got plenty of time ahead of you to set new ones. Listen to your mother.
  • Libra: You will be able to turn on the charm soon. You get more flies with honey than w(h)ine. Shine up your dancing shoes.
  • Scorpio: You are still working too much. But you can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Thank your significant other for all that they do. The next month is one of contemplation and reflection without undue influences. Use the silence to contemplate the future. Renew old connections. And remember . . . set them free.
  • Sagittarius: The break you needed is in front of you. Let it restore you and give you strength. Let some things go. Keep others close.
  • Capricorn: Tolerance is your virtue. Friends will return to you and your patience will be rewarded. You are loved.
  • Aquarius: Far away friends miss you and think of you often. Reach out and they may be there. Willing and ready to share. You are still on the "nice" list.
  • Pisces: All things in their season. This is your summer - let the warmth soak in your skin and reflect around you. And off your sparkly shoes. Listen. Enjoy.

PS: No bunnies were harmed in the making of this horoscope.

Respectfully submitted,

Madame Chako

Enough Already

Was my husband out of line with his e-mail this morning?

"Kill da Wabbit... Kill da WA-bitt!! -Elmer J. Fudd"

I think I need therapy. Maybe shoe therapy.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Monday, May 12, 2008

Eh, . . . What's Up, Doc?

It started out to be a pretty good day. Work was productive. Got several things done over the weekend and started Monday well. I see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Heard from faraway friends and loved ones. Always things to make you smile. That name in the inbox. On the phone.

This evening, I decided to indulge my spiritual side. Joined a small group of women with the Jewish sisterhood in our community. A little coffee cake, a little wine, and a little intellectual/spiritual conversation. OK, a little feminist, too. But no bra-burning.

One of the best moments was a poem written by a woman named Rhoda. It was a poem about dealing with death. Having just lost my father-in-law, it had a special meaning for me. I'll be sharing it with others.

Buoyed by a day that felt very complete, I headed home to kiss my babies and my husband. He had them scrubbed shiny clean, so all I had to do was smother them with love.

I turned the corner into my neighborhood. The Lexus has this great feature - headlights that turn with your turn, then straighten out. I had just turned the corner, and was marveling at the Xenon beams that swung around to illuminate the road -when they illuminated the little, fluffy, grey bunny that, apparently, was very bad at the math portion of the bunny aptitude test.

You know the test problem - If a red Lexus, traveling at 30 mph, is 10 feet away from you, how fast do you need to dart across the road to avoid being steamrolled by Mrs Chako's performance tires?

Yep, you guessed. Thud. Thud. I was sick. I made Dr. Chako go check. At least he was able to confirm that the bunny did not suffer.

I'm going to borrow an old, favorite Bracelet closing tagline, if I might.

Tall. Hot. Successful. Bunnykiller.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Mother's Day Recap

Starts out with a lazy day in bed. Wake up to a table full of cards from the family, and some gifts. Jewelry and smelly stuff that moms love. Son #1 made this awesome pop-up card with a quirky but genuine tribute to me as a mom. Son #2 picked a card with a kid on the toilet. The husband picked one that said "Is this a sex holiday?" Go figure.

I make chocolate chip pancakes. Yes, I know its Mother's Day. They are supposed to cook for me. But no one makes homemade chocolate chip pancakes like me (from scratch - none of that Bisquick nonsense or anything).

I laze around writing stuff. Send e-mails to friends. Do nothing until its time to shower. Gotta be clean for the 2:00 p.m. massage. Which was heavenly.

Au pair offers to watch kids on her day off so DrChako and I can go have dinner. So I put on some hot red shoes, a hot red dress, and off we go - good dinner, good drinks, good dessert. He tried to slip his hand up my skirt on the ride home. I'm not that easy. Besides, he's had his daily share. Lucky he got it before I read the Mother's Day card.

And as if it couldn't get any better, Jo had this post up about one of Wisconsin's favorite sons (adopted, but son, nonetheless). Loved it!

Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers, the men who made them mothers, and the children who try their patience every day.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Teach Your Children Well . . .

You try to teach them right from wrong. Good from bad. Every day, the world throws more choices at them. You just hope you taught them well.

Tomorrow is school spirit day. The kids are supposed to wear jerseys of their favorite teams/players.

DrChako took Son #1 to buy his first jersey.

Could a mother be any prouder?

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

To the Max . . .

Some things you need to know about me.
  1. I love my husband. He's smart, funny, handsome, a good father, a good doctor, a generous friend, and can balance heavy objects on his . . . oops. TMI. Nevermind. Oh, he also has good taste in women.
  2. I work ridiculous hours these days. So I have not time to watch TV.
  3. When I watch TV, one of the few things I watch is "Dancing with the Stars." I find the Latin dances so fascinating and erotic. If I can find the time, I fully intend to take dance classes and put the samba panties to good use.

That being said, there is also something else that you may have figured out, and that my husband knows and has come to accept . . . I love looking at beautiful people. Especially beautiful men. Beautiful men dancing hot, sensual, Latin dances . . . Oh. My. God.

Tonight, I am watching "Dancing with the Stars". It's the 100th episode. So they had some of the old stars, including some of the old dance professionals.

HE was on. One of my favorites.


Professional dancers have always impressed me. One of the things that made Patrick Swayze hot was that dancer body. Lithe. Lean. Flexible. Graceful. Athletic. The dancers on "Dancing with the Stars" are no exception. Ok, men, I'll give it to you. On occasion, they look a little effeminate. I can overlook it. But no doubt. Except HIM.


He has all the grace, athleticism, flexibility, and style of a dancer. But he's got this frame that's a little bulkier. Little more manly. He's always got a few days worth of facial hair. Strong jaw. Thick, black hair. Thighs that look like they could support your weight pinned against the shower wall. For hours. And an ass. Oh. My. Don't even have the breath for the extra "God".

Standing still, he's ok. Moving, he is beautiful. He and Mel B danced an encore performance. It was good. Not as good as the Paso Doble they did at the end of last season. In my dreams, Mel B got sick and I had to practice that Paso Doble with him. Over. And over. And OVER.

He can eat crackers in my bed anytime. I don't care what the Dr. says. He just has to dance while doing it.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Sunday, May 4, 2008

Poker? Yeah, I'd Like to Poke Her . . . I Mean Him . . . ???

The internet has created this bizarre, marvelous place. Where you can find anything or anyone, anytime or anywhere.

But it's created this dichotomy of trust/mistrust about the information you receive. Everything so readily available . . . yet in the back of your mind, you're always asking yourself "is this real?"

If you ever saw the movie "Closer" with Julia Roberts, Clive Owen, Natalie Portman and Jude Law, you'll understand. There is a scene where Clive Owen is having an instant message exchange with what he thinks is a woman. He's getting graphic. Really graphic. Like "face-sitting" graphic. The woman he's chatting with? It's actually Jude Law. Now I know you men are starting to squirm at that thought (keep in mind, I happened to go see this movie with my mother . . . ick). You're grossed out at the thought of two guys having this conversation. Either that or you're thinking about that instant message chat you jerked off to last week and are thinking maybe it wasn't a girl . . .

So last night I was playing a free money game on Poker Stars. My little icon is my picture (the one from my profile here). My name is Mrs Chako. And when I chat with people, I'm about as honest as they come.

Middle of the game, like most games, one of the other players puts in a comment:

cgarcia: MrsChako, you look hot.

I thank him, and he continues to make flirtatious overtures. Until another player pipes up.

Myosin: She's probably a dude.

This started a debate. Did I really look like that? Was I really a girl? How could I prove it? They started asking me questions. What size dress do you wear? 6 What cup size are you? (information withheld) What size shoe do you wear? 9 . . . of course this led to a "big feet" comment which further fueled the speculation that I was a man. And probably not even married, at that. I tried to tell them you need big feet to balance this tall drink of water . . .

The conversation continued, even to the point that the original flirter asked to exchange e-mails so we could exchange pictures (I did not). He joked that if I was a girl, I could send pictures of myself, and if I was a dude, I'd just send him pictures of hot women, so he was ok, either way. The original Doubting Thomas, tried to get in on the flirting action too, at this point.

I was amused, but not to be a winner. I got decimated with my J-10 of hearts, which had paired with the 10 on the board, and gave me an open ended straight draw and a flush draw on the turn, but didn't hold up to the pair of queens. And then I went all in with pocket 4s, which lost to 8-4 offsuit when the 8 hit the board. Out in 7th place.

I left the table open for a minute or two, and was rewarded with this exchange . . .

cgarcia: She's gone.
Myosin: She was a dude.

I guess you'll just have to come to one of the blogger tourneys to find out . . . Or ask BamBam or IT or someone else you trust for confirmation.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Friday, May 2, 2008

Letters to Men . . .

Some are people I should say things to, but don't . . . wish I could say things to, but its too late . . .

Some are people I wish I could have said things to and took the high road. So I'm really just getting it off my chest . . .
  • T - You were a good egg. Probably still are. If I ever took advantage of that, because you were convenient, I'm sorry. Hope you found the one who makes you happy. I would have been totally wrong for you anyway.
  • D - I still wear my name tags on my right side. Shake firm. Speak loud and clear. You were never cool. Neither was I. But you taught me to be a professional. Who knew everything you taught me just took a few years to pay off. Thanks.
  • J - The pie chart was sweet. Wonder how quickly my piece of the pie diminished after you dumped me. No worries. You taught me there were a lot of ways to skin a cat, without actually skinning the cat. And that I prefer to be the "dumper" - I'm sure all those other men appreciate you for that.
  • M - Did you ever feel bad? It all worked out in the end. It always does. But I often wonder if you realized that walking away is not something grown ups do. Do you know you exist only as a concept to me? Still, sometimes I wonder if I look like you. Talk like you. Think like you. But not enough to go to the trouble of finding you.
  • B - You are a putz. I figured that out pretty quickly. Watching McGyver in your underwear was merely confirmation. And yes, "See other people" meant "see other people" -it wasn't just code for YOU get to see other people. Oh, and you know how they say size doesn't matter? Well, at some point, it does.
  • M - It was the eyes. Haunting. Electric. Easy enough to picture, even today. Matched only in intensity by your inner self. Beautiful. But wrong for me in 100 ways. Still, the eyes.
  • T - You were a constant. Always a letter, a card. Never expecting anything from me. You kissed me once, I remember. But not with passion. Maybe you were gay. Or maybe you loved me and I missed it. Either way, I think I let a friend slip past. I looked you up on line one time. But then I wasn't sure what I'd say if I found you. Hope life is treating you well.
  • J - I hope you stopped being angry. At me. At him. At everyone. Found an outlet for your expression. Threw away the ripped jeans with the angry messages and the cigarettes. Moved on. I did. One of the best choices I've ever made. Sorry you didn't agree with me.
  • M - I guess that's one approach; if you can't convince her otherwise, just pin her down and take what you want. True measure of a man in your mind. 120 pounds of naivete was nothing for you. Just remember that Karma is a bitch, baby. Oh, and your presentation skills sucked. Probably still do.
  • N - Thanks for being part of my life. Giving me my best friend. Glad I passed the interview. Miss you.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Letters to Women . . .

I don't know him well, but underneath that mop of hair that is sometimes too pretty for a man to possess, lies the mind of a poet. I have been very delinquent in blogging and reading, but I caught Joe Speaker's post from mid-week. Made me think of all those people who have passed through my life . . . those ones who I write imaginary letters to in my head that I never send.

Like he said . . . Some people, you don't want to lose. Sometimes, it's not your decision.

Here are a few of the letters I write in my head to the women I've known.
  • I - I didn't even know you when I started this journey, and now I can't even imagine not knowing you, even if law hadn't made us sisters. Even when I forget to tell you, I am so proud of you and your accomplishments. And for all the ways we are different, we are so the same . . . I miss you bunches!
  • J - Blood keeps us close, but love keeps us closer. I know I'll always have a space in your heart and you'll always be the big sister I never had. I couldn't be more proud to be a part of your family.
  • C - How did two people so inseparable end up in lives so different we can't even imagine? I wouldn't be who I am today without you. But I couldn't be who I am today, right now, if I had taken the same path you did. Hope you ended up in as good a place as I am. Maybe we shouldn't let high school reunions dictate how often we talk . . .
  • L - Though I don't see you much these days, you always manage to make me laugh when I do. Sure, you live a little in the past . . . even when the rest of us have moved on . . . I hope he's making you happy these days. And for the record, though you've never forgiven yourself, . . . trust me, you made the right choice. I'm sure your daughter had a better life than a scared young girl could have ever given her. I still think it was and act of courage and selflessness.
  • S - Circumstances kept us close for so long. I'm just sorry that her illness consumed you so much that you felt the need to turn all your energy inward to her. And I'm sorry that I wasn't strong enough to help keep those bonds of friendship alive. I should have reached out more. Maybe I still will someday. If you ever reach back, I'm here.
  • A - You were my best adult friend. We let time and distance and other relationships weather away everything we built. I'm far worse than you. At least you reach out. I let life and circumstance get in the way. It's my turn to reach out now . . . I know. I just hope your patience with me doesn't run out. Miss you.
  • B - You just never know where and when you'll find your next friend. Thanks for showing up at just the right time. For propping me up, and bringing me down a notch or two. And for getting me hooked on cute shoes. Thank you for helping me find my voice by listening to yours.
It's only a few of you . . . I still have many letters to write . . . and the men are next.

Joe, hope you're getting your letters done . . .

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Thursday, May 1, 2008

Escape, Part II

Yes, I want to go back.

This week has been even worse than the last week. Last night I worked until 2 a.m. in the client's offices trying to get some stuff done. Between challenging performance reviews (I'm the reviewer, not the reviewee), demanding clients, and approaching deadlines, I'm being squeezed on all sides. What I wouldn't give for another escape . . .

Will I go back?

Someday. Not right now. You know what they say about too much of a good thing.

Besides, I have to pay some attention to the lovelies at home. Don't get me wrong - I may try to sneak in another massage when the Dr. isn't looking. But two little boys need a mommy, the flowers in my yard are begging for some photographs, and I owe my husband a date. After all, he fixed the bathroom mirror, ordered a new couch cushion, and took care of some other crummy household tasks in between winning all that money.

Will it ever be as good?

In a way, I hope not. Because the amount of stress and agony and emotion and turmoil that took me to a point where I just needed to escape is not something I want to have every day. Somehow, that made it better. A true stolen moment.

Besides . . . there is a part of the story I didn't tell you. The little details I'll try to forget . . . lest they make me angry and ruin a perfectly good weekend.

First, I had to hassle them to get the king room I reserved. "We have two double beds, Ms. Chako." Double beds? Two? Why would I want to sleep crammed in a double bed? Does the hotel not understand the sheer joy of sleeping in ANY direction on a king bed, arms and legs thrown about in ANY configuration, with no discomfort? And what am I going to do with the other bed? Switch back and forth?

Then, Saturday morning as I was going through another fabulous REM cycle (this is a family blog of sorts . . . we won't go into details of what is in my head during REM) . . . I was awakened at 9 a.m. by the nearby pool resurfacing project. For those of you tasked with chaperoning me in Vegas, you understand that Mrs. Chako does not emerge from her bed on vacation before noon. Unless there is an emergency (more to follow). I tried, unsuccessfully, to rest until my normal vacation waking time . . . let's just say I think I missed one good cycle of a John Cusack/Hugh Jackman/Antonio Banderas orgy. I'm sure of it.

I finally dragged myself out of bed (not before calling to complain and learning that the pool would be done in one hour). I got some lunch, walked on the beach, shopped . . . and returned four hours later to find them still resurfacing. Which also meant that the lovely pool area right off my patio . . . was off limits for the rest of the weekend. Had to make another call . . .

Saturday night, I fell asleep exhausted, prepared to recover my precious REM sleep. Until the fire alarm went off at 3 a.m. Three separate times. Each time, I had to get dressed again and step out to see if it was real fire. It wasn't. But tell that to my heart when a siren goes off in your ear.

Net, net, I got some free stuff . . . but would have rather had my peace and quiet.

Am I glad I went?


But now, I'm home. Where I should be. Content with that escape . . . I'll survive a while 'til the next one. But next time, I'm checking the pool resurfacing schedule . . .

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife