Resolution: continue being cooler than Sally
There's this scene in "When Harry Met Sally" in which Sally, lamenting the demise of her relationship with Joe, says that they had said they didn't want children because children keep you from having sex on the kitchen floor and jetting of to Rome on a moment's notice. Then she sighs and says that, in fact, they never had sex on the kitchen floor and Rome was just a dream. Well, we haven't been to Europe, and our kitchen floor is frankly too gross for even walking barefoot, let alone copulating, but we have jetted off somewhere on a moment's notice. And now we're back. On Friday, the 30th, we decided that our New Year's plans lacked pizzaz. Or, more accurately, I decided to surf Hotwire while avoiding paper writing, and there I discovered a great deal to Atlanta, where our friends Frisbee and Blazer live. Four hours later (well, seven hours once you factor in the three hour delay,) we were on a plane. We drank a lot, slept little, got bruised hips from sleeping on the floor for two nights (mama is getting old!) and generally had a lovely time. Mostly, as John so aptly put it, "it was totally worth it for the value of the story that we get to tell: 'oh, yes, we just jetted off to Atlanta on a moment's notice!'" Next on list of New Year's Resolutions: wear flattering jeans, order sandwich with no special requests and nothing on the side, and fake double orgasm in diner.