9 hours of lovely sleep

Sitting in Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport Monday night, I got the news that I had to be at federal jury duty in downtown Los Angeles Tuesday morning at 7:45 a.m. Ah the woes of the leisure traveler.

I'm not complaining. I'm explaining.

The jury duty necessitated washing clothes all through the night so I would have something other than "Angels Cactus League Spring Training" shirts to wear. Then taking the 6:02 a.m. train into LA.

I was tired and spent most of the day in a zombified post-vacation daze, sitting in the jury room, watching Scooter Libby get convicted.

The best part of yesterday was a glorious cup of iced coffee while lounging under a blooming magenta bougainvillea vine on historic Olvera St. during lunch. It was about 75 degrees and the birdies were singing...who says LA isn't beautiful?

I went to bed at 8:40 last night. The sleep I got was better than any spa treatment. I am awake and ready to go. Alive, awake, alert, enthusiastic.

Best line of the night

Jim: Scott used the power of "The Secret" to win (at the dog track).

Scott: What's the thing with "The Secret"?

Jim: The law of attraction. Like attracts like.

Scott: If that were true, all my dates would be hung like horses.

Now with even more yay

Sorry to pile on, but Yay for Internet access by the pool. My life is complete.

Wise Life Advice du jour: If you rent the car, spring for the GPS system for the extra $11 bucks a day. It may save your sanity and your relationship with your travel partner(s). It is so great to travel around everywhere without once yelling "I thought I said lEFT, you moron!"

Are you listening, Suzanne? (Suzanne, Husband and I had a long, convoluted car tour of some of the less scenic areas of San Jose last year at BlogHer.

With the help of the miraculous GPS, I unerringly drove the 16 miles or so to Unity of Phoenix and still had time for a Starbucks run before the service. The church was amazing. It looked like about 700 congregants, and I was at one of 3 morning services.

The boys are at the game and I am by the pool. I will order a pitcher of margaritas if you say you're coming over. Anyone?

Yay for wireless internet in your room

Yay for renting a big fat luxury SUV (an Infiniti FX35) with a decent sound system, especially since the soundtrack for the trips has been a $6.99 double CD of "Disco's Greatest Hits," so we really needed the big bass sound to do the sitting-down-driving dance to "Ring My Bell" and "Don't Leave Me This Way" as we drove the 100 miles south to Tucson.

Doug pitched 2 innings, gave up one run, and looked good in the Diamondbacks' new rust-colored jersey. The weather has been perfect and mild, though not mild enough to keep Jim from threatening to offer to smear sunscreen on the redheaded woman in front of us at the game.

We waited almost 2 hours for dinner at the Barrio Cafe. The food is so good that as soon as you taste it, you forgive them for not taking reservations and for being located in a neighborhood where scary-looking strangers hit you up for cash.

I had a roasted pepper soup and wild mushroom enchiladas, and yes, despite 22 years of vegetarianism even tasted the 12-hour roasted pork. The boys have been raving about it nonstop since the time we went to Barrio Cafe 3 years ago, so I HAD to.

Oh, and the guacamole - they toss on a handful of pomegranate seeds at the end when they make it, and I give that idea the big thumbs up. Crunchy and tangy and sweet goes so well with the smooth avocado...That food is so good that it makes you moan and bang on the table and think perhaps an orgasm is in order. Ok, almost.

I dreamt all night of having breast cancer. Stage 5 breast cancer, and since there are only 4 stages, I knew that was pretty bad. I said "Crap, I just got everything all figured out and now I'm dead." I woke up wondering "What did I have all figured out? And why can't I remember it now?"

Off to more Phoenician adventures. Hugs and kisses.

Are you ready for some baseball?

I am off to Phoenix for baseball spring training with a bunch of other loons. We sit in the sun, watch some ball, and eat food that is either very very bad or very very good depending on who you ask.

We are hoping to see my good-looking and talented cousin Doug pitch for the Diamondbacks on Saturday. I am a bit concerned because every time I show up for one of his games he gets shelled. I know, I know - I am the center of the universe and everything is my fault.

Don't worry about the house. I have asked one of my Hells Angels neighbors and his pit bull, Molly, to keep an eye on the place. Touch anything and Molly will shred you, beginning with your nearest body part to her nose and ending with Everything Else. Ah, I love my 'hood.

Now I just have to remember to pack everything I need and to unpack my weapons, so we don't have a repeat of last year's airport incident where the TSA took apart my whole carry-on bag - including many, many tiny bottles of Jack Daniels and about 1000 tampons - to try and find the Swiss Army knife I had forgotten in a compartment.

Have a great weekend. I will miss you.