So, I'm stuck in a Silicon Valley hotel room and the presentation that I've flown here for just got cancelled. That means, that gallon of Diet Coke I just drank to write the presentation has a few hours to go before it wears off. So, here's my favorite things right this second:
#1 - Mama Iva scored a passport today! Only a few of you know what a big deal this is. My mother is from North Dakota and one of those old school patriots who heartily believes that everything good in the world is located right here in the good ol' U S of A so why bother even taking a look elsewhere? My father, from South Dakota, is the same way. My brother and I don't get it.
However, I have been slowly and quietly nagging away at my mother to take a trip with me. Initially, I had lofty goals. We could go to Scotland! Look up the ancestors! I got no answer to this, not even a standard, "We'll see." So now I shoot low and we have successfully signed up for a quick weekend cruise to Mexico in July - passport required. (The ship even leaves from her town - how easy is that?) VICTORY. My plan is to gradually expand her horizons until one day she wakes up in Europe and somehow loves it.
#2 - For the first time in history, a woman won an Indy race! Yay for speedy vaginas! I'm so gosh darn proud of Danica Harris, I could just spit, as my father would say. The 26-year-old driver nailed the Indy Japan 300 in her 50th career start:
Y'see, when it comes to feminism, I've always been in the Madonna/Madeline Albright/Oprah camp, which is to say, don't stop to ask permission and get petition signatures, just do it. Show, don't tell. Danica sure showed 'em.
"I'm glad it finally happened. But I would be lying if I told you I didn't think it would be me. I've been asked so many times when and if I can win my first race. And, finally, no more of those questions."
Finally, a shout for the Blue Team: Happy Birthday, Fang! I made the trek out to Christmas Island yesterday to celebrate his aging process and witness his comical attempts at BBQ'ing. It became more of a Monty Python skit but not too many things caught on fire. I mean, that's why I wore my cowboy boots after all, to stamp out possible disasters. For the full story in all its hilarity - please go here. And bring some napkins. And a fire extinguisher.