The problem with pizza

Jeff and I agree on lots of things, but pizza is not one of them. I like tomato sauce; Jeff likes anything but. I like all veggies. Jeff likes onions. (Does that count as a veggie?)

We like eating at places where we can each order our own small pizza. Monday, Mellow Mushroom was the spot. I ordered my usual: red sauce, broccoli, tomatoes, mushrooms and onions. Jeff got really creative: pesto, avocado and bacon.

Guess which one I liked better? Who knew the salty and crisp bacon would match so well with the creamy and rich avocado? Oh, yeah, Jeff knew.

Switch!

I'm famous! (Sort of)

Ledger-Enquirer nightlife reporter Sonya Sorich invited me to be on her weekly Internet show "Ledger Lounge." I gave some very useful and important stretching tips while wearing heals. If you want a good laugh check it out here.

A wedding in Palm Springs

Jeff and I went back to our old stomping grounds in Palm Springs last week. The weather was perfect — sunny and warm during the day and cool with a slight breeze in the evening. We went back for the wedding of our friend and former co-worker, Mike. We got to hang out with a bunch of newspaper buddies, eat at our favorite restaurants and go the annual tennis tournament at Indiana Wells. Oh, and we drank a few cocktails, shared a few memories and visited our old house.

That house visit was the only sad part of the weekend. We drove by after having a fun lunch with our friends (and former editors) Vikki and Diane. We realized that strangers were living in our house. I mean sure, we're not paying the mortgage anymore, but come on, that's my house. I ate, slept, laughed, cried, watched TV, celebrated holidays, hosted parties, adopted a puppy, cooked family dinners and toasted friends at that house. Who is this family called Biggers? Why do they live in my home? They can't possible look fondly down on the chip in kitchen counter tile and remember the goodbye party responsible. They don't know how Sassy used to wait at the window in the front room for us to arrive home. They don't know how Alley used to slip on the tile floor when she'd run too fast. They don't know how to cram 15 people in the dining room for Thanksgiving dinner.

I miss my home. I know, I know. A house is just a house. It's the family in the house that turns it into a home. But, still, that was one mighty fine house packed full of memories.


Jeff and I at Mike and Erica's wedding in Palm Springs.


The house Jeff and I rented. It didn't have a wall around it then, but we said if we ever bought it we would wall in the front yard and add a pool.


The house Jeff and I owned in La Quinta. It was Alley's first home. A new family lives there now, but only the address on the mailbox looks different.


Another view of the house. We choose the door and the paint color. We bought the house when it was just a plan on paper.


Our favorite spot in the desert to hike, walk, run and play in the sand.


Jeff and I with Vikki and Diane.


Jeff and I stand near our regular hiking trail.

A very special visit with baby Sam

Jeff and I spent a few days in Oregon last week to meet baby Sam, the newest addition to the Corona family. He is my bestest friend Karly and her husband Jose's first baby. We had a wonderful visit. Karly has always been an excellent multi-tasker, but it's most apparent now. She never had one of those Miranda moments (think "Sex and the City"). She was able to care for Sam and keep up with the conversation or activity happening with us, too. She even Wii bowled with Sam in the front pack. We went to restaurants with Sam. We went shopping with Sam. We took walks with Sam. Sam was even with Karly at the airport when she picked us up. Karly's confidence and joy at being a mom makes parenting seem easy. Like anyone could do it. Like me. Well, almost. (Sorry, mom.)

Though Sam is just 2 months old, he is already full of personality. So much so that I have some predictions about his future:
Sam doesn't like a dirty diaper. Karly, I hope this means he'll value cleanliness and always keep his room clean, rinse his dishes and pick up his toys.
Sam loves to be outside. He didn't even mind the Portland rain falling on his little head as we made a dash for the car after a shopping trip at Target. Jose, I hope this means Sam will volunteer to mow the lawn, rake the leaves and fix the deck.
He loves the pugs. He didn't mind when they would lick his toes and sleeping Sam never stirred when the dogs barked. Max and Penny, I hope this means he'll never pull your tails, attempt to ride you or step on your paws.

My favorite Samism was that he would mimic the faces I'd make. I would open my eyes wide and so would Sam. I would smile big and so would Sam. I would close my eyes and so would Sam. It was so cute!

I'm guessing he'll be a famous actor. He'll be so rich (not to mention handsome and smart) that he'll invite his mommy and his mommy's bestest friend to live in the guest house of his fabulous Malibu mansion. See, he's also going to be generous and kind. I've got it all figured it out.

Anyway we had a great visit. Here are a few pictures.

Happy Birthday to you, Dad

Dad, I wish you were here to celebrate your birthday (your 45th, right). I'd toast you with a glass of wine. What would I say? Perhaps I'd say thanks for driving for hours on Saturdays to watch me not win cross country meets. Or I guess I could go with a thanks for introducing me to your special pizza (white bread, ketchup and American cheese) yum! Maybe I should thank you for taking me to Europe where I discovered English cider (who knew it was alcoholic?) I suppose I could thank you for sacrificing sleep to help me solve algebra equations.

Anyway, whatever I else I might say, it would certainly end with a "thank you." So, I guess that's what I'll write.

Thanks for being my dad.

Worst packers ever

Jeff and I are notoriously bad at packing for trips. I grab the largest suitcase possible and stuff it 'til it's almost too heavy for me to pull. Jeff forgets things.

Yesterday, in Ontario, Calif. my bag exceeded the weight limit. (This is not the first time this has happened to me.) Luckily, there was not a long line because I had to open the suitcase and transfer things from my large suitcase to my carry-on bag. Embarrassing!

On Friday, we were in Palm Springs when Jeff realized that he forgot to pack swim trunks. (This is not the first time this has happened to him.) He had to buy bright orange and blue trunks at a nearby gift shop. Jeff has a particular problem remembering his trunks. Here are a few other times destination shopping trips:

1. Vacation to Disney World. We took the hotel shuttle to downtown Disney and bought the first pair of trunks we saw. When we got back to the hotel, we discovered we selected a boys size. We had to take the shuttle back to downtown Disney and got another pair.

2. Day trip to beach St. Joseph Michigan. The only pair we could find was white with a pineapple print. Relentless teasing (mostly from me) ensued every time he wore them after the trip.

3. Vacation to San Diego. The resort gift shop actually had a great selection and Jeff wore these trunks that whole summer.

Maybe Jeff secretly just likes to go shopping.

A snowman is born

Snow is not just for kids. Luke, Anne, Jeff and I had a great time building a snowman on Sunday. We named him the Leaning Snowman of Georgia, you'll see why in a second. It's a good thing we took photos as we were building Leaning Snowman, because he got a little tipsy and lost his head about 20 minutes after his birth.

It's snowing... in Georgia

The south is being covered in a blanket of white fluff. It's beautiful and not terribly cold. It was Sunday morning that the snow started falling. We had at least two inches at 3 p.m. Sunday. On Saturday, there were bad thunderstorms (a tornado touched down in Alabama). It's been a crazy-weather weekend.
Here are some photos: