Monday, July 19, 2010

Back From 1990

A couple of weeks back Mr. Incredible and I journeyed to Naples, FL to attend Mr. Incredible's 20th high school reunion.  Let me tell you, it's a world of fun to go to a reunion that is not your own.  There is much less anxiety and worrying about what people will say about you.  It also helps if you get to drive around in a white convertible Mustang all weekend.  And, if you buy a perfect little white linen sundress AND have a smokin' hair night, you get to walk around with an air of confidence that people just can't diss or dismiss or something like that.  And you get hit on by married men all weekend.  Yeah.  That's me; the married man magnet. So proud. 

I was told I was "dynamic", "smokin' hot", "hot", "centigrade hot", "gorgeous", "pretty", "beautiful", "the reason to move to Texas" and "the selling point for Texas."  Subtle, right?  If guys could have only been so forthcoming in high school and college...  I have to admit I was always a bit of a sucker for the cute pick-up lines, so back in the day I probably would have fallen for a couple of the above. 

Mr. Incredible had his own share of groupies, and we found this particularly amusing.  Plus, his old girlfriend walked by our table no less than 28 times.  I'm pretty sure she really did not have to visit the restroom that many times.  I guess it is possible that she could use a prescription for Detrol.  I know if something is really funny that I wish I had one.  And things have really cracked me up lately.  Much laughter.  Almost too much laughter. 

Aside from finding "spares", we stayed in a lovely hotel on the beach.  We had a great suite with a huge foyer and all kinds of wasted space.  I'm one hundred percent sure it was bigger than our first apartment, which really isn't saying much, but this was quite roomy.  We could have had a small party in the bathroom.  It might have been a little awkward if anyone had to pee, but...  If you ever have a chance to stay there, I would recommend it as long as you don't mind being surrounded by LOTS of Europeans, mainly Italians and Brazilians.  Beautiful women and bald, fat, hairy men speaking in languages I could not understand, which made a bikini-wearing me a little extra self-conscious.  I told one woman her child was beautiful, and she stared at me blankly.  When I pointed and said, "Bella!" she smiled and nodded and got all excited. 

While playing in the ocean I almost walked into a hoard of stingrays.  If it wasn't so completely scary, I would have enjoyed looking at the rays.  However, they were large, and their tails were long.  And, I had at least two parties to go to and needed not to have red stripes on my legs.  I booked it out of there thanks to Mr. Incredible's step by step instructions.  Honey, watch out.  Come this way.  Seriously, I froze when I saw them, and his hand gestures helped.  I definitely panicked when I saw their wings pulsing. 

The food front:  I ordered a pear martini, probably my favorite martini right now--especially if it is topped with a little bubbly.  I first had one at a British pub in San Diego last February.  Delish.   The french country salad was nice too, although the beets tasted a little extra earthy next to the goat cheese. 
At Bistro 821, I went out on a limb and tried ESCARGOT.  I had never been brave enough to eat snail before, and I thought since they were on the menu AND I will soon be forty that I should be adventurous and try them.  I don't have to have them again, but I didn't dislke them.  A little bit gritty.  A little bit chewy.  I also had some baked brie with figs and mushrooms.  Creme brulee for dessert.  I still have never met one that I didn't wolf down in mere seconds.  Custard love.  I also ordered a raspberry martini at this restaurant, too.  Barely above that lemondrop martini made with vanilla vodka.  Not my favorite.  At all.

Enjoy a few pictures from our travels to Naples.

Signing in to the reunion. 
Obligatory couple photo.

Our dinner companions.  Great group.

Holding up one of Mr. Incredible's groupies.

Naples High Class of 1990

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