I'm coming, Dan and Telina

So, if there was a sentence that summed up what I want to do in California this time:

I'm here to drink some wine, and buy some fiber, and at some point, we're going to run out of wine.

Okay, so last time we visited T. and D., the first night was a silly, silly night of cheese eating, wine drinking, and in one person's case, late-night trailer puking.

We will not let that happen. This time we will be grown ups. This time we will not go into a freak-show, wine geek, show and tell, that slowly de-evolves into lots of drunken "I love you's" and "I really, really miss you. Hippie"

We will not smoke medical marijuanna. Ever. Again.

We will not drink 19 bottles of wine in one night.

We will not be super damaged, and we will eat and drink ourselves silly. In moderation and stuff. There will be morning beers. I learned this magic at the funeral in Wyoming, and I'll tell you, there's nothing like a crisp morning beer, with the fog rolling in off the mountains...er... off the bay.

We will not yell at our husband for bringing beach sand into the tent...er...guest house.

You hear me Dan? I know you read this fucker, you're just scared to comment, like the government doesn't already have you on the radar, buddy.

We will eat at super-secrect, Chef Caputo suggested Dim Sum places. We will order the Chicken Feet, and goddamnit, we will like it.

This is a bullshit manifesto based on nothing but all that makes me happy, and you will comply.


Or, uh, we'll just do it like we did the last time.