Seattle

Matt and I just returned from our jaunt to Seattle. Poor guy was stuck in class a lot, while I sucked oysters down and drank local wine with local folks. Over the years, and through my travels (to Grandmother's house we go), I've become fond of going into a bar alone and finding my new best friend for a few hours. This time, it was a woman named D'Anna, a local bartender who drank with me one entire afternoon. She'd been married several times, several kids with different men, and her latest ex is in prison for almost beating her to death. She was very cool, a strong woman, drank cheap sherry. I love people.

Matt and I had a great time together. A fresh city view and a swanky hotel room always make our hearts pound a little faster. Traveling together is fantastic, and I learn more about Matt everyday. Life is so great.

I sought out fine dining while he learned (played Solitaire) new law tricks during daylight hours. I walked the entire city several times, and my calves are killing me! But it was worth it: I have a keen eye for fancy restaurants. I had the best Bouillabaisse ever.

We missed Sam, oh how we missed Sam. My mom flew up from Florida to stay with him, and he was fine, but still...the miss. I also missed my connection coming home because of bad weather in Houston, and I started crying on the plane. Yes, crying. Matt and I took separate planes ... for the obvious "keep one parent alive" reason, and my plane got home about 7 hours later than his. My heart was broken thinking, "In three hours I'll be holding Sam!" and then sitting at the airport (bar) for many, many more hours. I wanted that little boy in my arms.

I think Matt and I text-messaged over 75 times. Matt's last text: I'm home, Sam is fine, I'll wait on the couch until you are here with us. " I've seriously got two great guys.