We arrived and set our things in the room and promptly went to the Driftwood Room for drinkies. The bartender there is one of those old skool dudes, and he’s also a chef when it comes to drinks. The special drink of the night was something he’d concocted himself from bourbon, punt e mes and some liquor he was the first to bring into the state of Oregon. It was divine.

I had a Goldfinger, which is made from Champagne. And some other stuff that was probably magical because I think I might have licked the inside of the glass. After that, Fancyhats took me to a beautiful dinner at Paley’s Place in NW. It was great but the waitress was pretty rude. She just didn’t care one way or another if we ate, enjoyed our meal, or really lived or died while we sat there. Blech. But the food was great.

We came back to deLuxe and lo and behold who was sitting in the lobby, but MAYOR SAM ADAMS. I know, right? I rub elbows with political power brokers. I mean I would have, but I may have had a tiny bit to drink and when I told Fancyhats, “I’m going to talk to him,” which sounded like “HE TOTALLY KNOWS WHO I AM BECAUSE I KNOW HIS DIRECTOR OR PLANNER OR SOMETHING I’M GOING TO TALK TO HIM BECAUSE I’M FAMOUS!” Fancyhats held my elbow and gently encouraged me to maybe not go sit on our mayor’s lap and tell him about how I might or might not find Beau Breedlove attractive and so I could totally understand the urge to put ones whole political career on the line for a snog in the bathroom. Also, YOU ARE NO GAVIN NEWSOM, FRIEND.

I have a thing for mayors.

ANYWAY.

The room at the deLuxe was so detailed. It’s just lovely. We had a corner room, with windows along two walls. The bathroom was fully tiled, crown molding, real wood everywhere and a bed I thought I could maybe sew to my body and go through life with it attached so I could just lie down at any time.

We had breakfast at Gracie’s in the hotel. I had the eggs benedict with spinach and mushrooms. OMG, it was delicious. I also had my first Bloody Mary. I really want to like these, internet. But I didn’t. I didn’t like the Bloody Mary. I feel like less of a grown up. Sigh.

Anyway, it was a great staycation. And as soon as some state allows me to marry a building, I’ll invite you all to my wedding!

Also, I’m going to drink at their bar, the Driftwood room. This bar makes me feel like I’m having an affair and we must cozy up in the big booth so the paparazzi won’t take our picture. I hope Fancyhats wears a Fancyhat. Though I know gentlemen don’t wear hats inside, he looks very good in his new Fancyhat.

I might also wear stockings because I want to sit at the barstool and cross my legs and make that scratchy sound with my nylons. I think that’s sort of sexy.

I might wear my Fancyhat, courtesy of Fancyhats.

All I know is this week has been incredibly rough and I’m looking forward to the peace and quiet.

In other words…

Have a great weekend, Fan Club!

This weekend, Fancyhats and I did the canning. We didn’t pick any peaches, but went to an orchard and bought a pre-picked flat. Because, really, how much work can I put into this? Those jars took us the better part of a day, but I swear, come February, I will start opening those peaches and for a few small moments, it’ll feel like summer.

Fancyhats is a very good cook. He had to cook for himself for years. I am a good cook too because I like to eat and I’m super cheap and also I’m a bit on the paranoid side about what goes into my food. So we were in his kitchen together. On a warm day. Canning. Together. We both have strong personalities and are both used to being the boss in the kitchen. Let me just say, there were a few moments of, “that’s really great, how about you do it?”

And then coming back together again. A hug. A kiss. As much as we stepped on each other’s toes, we laughed a lot while we canned. I almost peed myself watching Fancyhats try not to instruct me on knife-usage and then finally giving in and pretending he was hosting his own cooking show. I told him cooking with him is like being tickled. It’s like torture, but it makes me laugh uncontrollably too.

Again, a learning experience. Learning, for both of us, how to let go of the reigns. For a long time, I was the boss of the whole house. I took care of most everything. If I didn’t nag about something, remember something, schedule something, or do it myself, it just didn’t happen.

I tend to let go a little faster than Fancyhats does, though I’m sure he’d disagree with that. But I try and let go. I relax a bit. I put my hands up and enjoy someone else driving. That he’s willing to be in control for a little while is a pleasure in itself.

And I’m on Martketplace talking about cheapening blogs by taking free stuff. Yes, I have taken free stuff. But I’m special because I do it to support local Portland businesses. And not to get free stuff…wait. Read it, or listen to me sounding like a 12 year-old two pack a day smoker here.

This weekend Fancyhats and I went to Seattle. We stayed in a posh hotel on the water and ate delicious tapas. We had a lovely breakfast at Caffe Presse. You can tell it’s European because of all the extra letters.

I have no idea what’s happened to me but I’m pretty sure I’ve turned into an 85 year old man. We got to Seattle and my first thought was, “Look at all of those tall buildings!” And then when we went out that night and every single young woman was wearing a skirt shorter than my underwear, I thought, “Oh these young women. Don’t they know MEN WON’T BUY THE COW IF THEY CAN GET THE MILK FOR FREE!” I thought that. On the serious. And then I constructed a wall down the middle of our hotel bed and donned a burka because I don’t want Fancyhats thinking he’s going to get any milk for free. He’s got to pay for that milk. With money. Just like the bible says.

Plate and Pitchfork was amazing. So wonderful. We were at Smith Berry Barn. The event started with a mixer at the front of the farm. We had deviled eggs topped with lamb bacon and some watermelon gazpacho. I didn’t love the watermelon thing. It was way too salty, but I enjoyed the deviled eggs. Sokol Blosser was pouring wine, a white and a rose.

Fancyhats ran into some old acquaintances so we caught up with them and enjoyed some wine and the beautiful afternoon.

Then the organizers called us together to meet the lamb farmer who was providing all the meat for the evening. This is the same dude who provides meat for Alice Waters and Chez Panisse. I don’t love lamb. I don’t hate it, I’m just sort of meh about it. But this was the first time I’d tried to eat in more than a week, so I was going to man up and enjoy the shit out of this lamb.

The farmers of Smith Berry Farm then took us on a tour of their farm. We saw berries and chickens and goats and more berries and we learned about the farm. It was really wonderful wandering around, picking berries off the vines and hearing about what it’s like to own a farm.

We made our way to the apple orchard and Fancyhats and I were at table seven. We also passed the outdoor grill where the lamb was being prepared by the chefs from Simpatico and Laurelhurst Market. Laurelhurst has a meat counter that Fancyhats and I have enjoyed once before. We were pretty stoked.

The menu was a green salad with greens and pickled blueberries from the farm. A lambs tongue salad, a lamb mixed grill with tenderloin, sausage and ribs, and berry brown betty with berries from the farm.

My favorite was the lambs’ tongue salad and the tenderloin and lamb ribs. And by favorite, I mean when I put each each in my mouth I thought I would surely die from pleasure. It was all so good. Sokol Blosser paired wine with each course and the servers promised us we’d never have an empty glass. And that was true.

I now love lamb.

AND we sat next to a couple who had a sense of humor as inappropriate as mine is. We were laughing. A lot. And as the wine flowed we laughed some more. They are our new couple friends. WE HAVE COUPLE FRIENDS. Also, I hope our new couple friends don’t think it’s too forward that I’ve deemed them that. We must be careful about these things. But we are having more drinks with them next week. COUPLE FRIENDS. [Private message to Kiala and Dane: when you get up here, you will be couple friends too. So, you know...do that thing or whatever.]

We sat in the orchard and ate and drank and ate and drank until 10pm. This whole thing started at 5:30. Fancyhats drove us home, and I passed out in the car on the way. I think I was probably drooling and snoring, but Fancyhats managed to get me home in one piece. He’s good that way.

As for the pictures, I brought my Holga, which is a toy camera that takes actual film. So those are being developed. As for the specific wines, Ben, I have no idea. I was drunk by about glass 1.5. Because, you know, I hadn’t eaten in a fortnight.

Pictures coming in a week or so.

On Thursday, I’ll be in Chicago speaking at BlogHer. I’m shacking up with Recovering Straight Girl. I’m also going to the big lezzie party that Deb on the Rocks is throwing. I also plan on swimming in the pool at the hotel. And smiling and nodding. OH! And launching my newest website. I haven’t told you about my website, have I? Well, you’ll find out all in good time, friends.

Tomorrow Fancyhats and I go to Plate and Pitchfork. I’m so excited. We haven’t had a chance to catch up, be relaxed, eat great food and sort be googly at each other in a few weeks. I mean, I’m not that pretty while puking. The weather will be warm and dry and we’ll dine al fresco on some amazing food. And I’ll get to walk around on a farm and hold Fancyhats’s hand. I love holding his hand. I also love feeling him touch my neck, so gently. He dresses fancy during the day, and on weekends he’s all shorts and t-shirt and a red sox baseball hat. I look at him and swoon. I can’t wait to sit with him in the warmth and watch the light change colors as the sun sets.

And in a week, I’m going to BlogHer in Chicago. I’m speaking there, you know. Because I’m fancy like that. If you’re going, drop me a line in comments or on Twitter or something so I can look for you. I’m talking about Bloggers in the Post-Employee World and the various ways I make money. I wish more writers were attending BlogHer. I think writers could learn a little something from bloggers. Or like a lot of somethings. Like not pissing and moaning about creating content daily.

Also, I got a very good assignment the other day. I’m not going to tell you for whom I’m writing but it’s a pretty big deal. Like a national big deal. Definitely the biggest site I’ve written for. I pitched at them for months and when they accepted something, it was easy. So very easy. Makes me nervous.

Today begins the great home painting project.

A lot going on. I’m fretting a little bit, and also realizing that fretting is a wasted emotion. But all of this is wonderful. So there you are. Send me some love, won’t you. Or if you want to help me paint, drop me a line.

It’s noon, and I’ve done seven (SEVEN) loads of laundry. Sheets, pillows, rugs, jammies, jammies, jammies, rags, washcloths.

What I’d like is a nap, but I’ve also made banana bread and I’m waiting for that to come out of the oven.

Fancyhats and I had a lot of social engagements this weekend. Both of us are social people, but it was way too much. Just too too much. Fancyhats is trying to teach me about the life of leisure and this weekend we took a break from the life of leisure life lessons. I miss the life of leisure life lessons. I’d like to go back to those. It’s important to lie on the couch and read while Fancyhats watches baseball. In his Redsox hat. He puts on his hat when the game comes on. It’s super-wonderful.

Here’s my point: I need a reading-my-book hat of some sort.

We ate some salad (fiber = blerg) at Pizza Fino last night and enjoyed their grapefruit fizz. Two of them, actually. I mean, we both had two, and then I licked the inside of my glass because it was either that, or weep bitter tears of loss. And I would have taken a picture, but Fancyhats left his mePhone at home. He did it on purpose, even.

I was standing at the door while he checked twitter one last time punched bad guys in the face and the reroofed the house and he turned to me and said, “I’m leaving my mePhone at home.”

And I said, “HOLY GOD HOW WILL THE INTERNET KNOW WHAT WE’RE DOING? HOW WILL IT KNOW THAT I AM FABULOUS?!?” “Okay.”

And we left with only my $10 Nokia phone. I know. I KNOW.

So the drink. It’s prosecco with some grapefruit bitters, a sugar cube and a twist of grapefuit rind. Served in a champagne flute. Um. Hello, awesome.

Please note, you can make grapefruit bitters at home. Please note note that that link link (I’ll stop) goes to a blog based in Portland. Yes, of course, the first google link for grapefruit bitters is a post about making it from scratch from a blog in Portland. Oh Portland, you with your DIY-ness and fancy drinkie-ness, I just want to squish your wittle cheeky weekies.