Black Coffee

This is a story about my friends. I use the term friends with a reverence not communicated well through writing, because these people may be some of the greatest people I have ever known. Since I am insecure enough to worry about others finding these people and stealing them from me I will change their names.

We all spent a wonderful weekend in Palm Springs. We ate; we laughed; we laughed more; we played a weird game of tennis, boxing, and "mess your neighbor." We hiked ; though Funny Coordinator Guy insisted it was just a walk. If walk means watching your step carefully so as not to trip on a rock or having to catch your breath frequently because of the steady incline and higher altitude then yes, we walked. Walk also must mean developing a steady headache from dehydration and altitude sickness. Apparently walking also means arriving at a place that could be called the top of the world with a spectacular view of God's unrivaled handiwork. I of course didn't mind the "walk" because I was able to bombard my favorite Doctor with tons of medical questions. It was strange that he seemed to get more tired then me...could it have been how much talking I was forcing him to do. Nah...it was just a walk right? For some reason this particular walk made me more tired than most walks I've been on. Maybe is was the special walking backpack I insisted on carrying. But at least it wasn't a hike...then I would have been mad. Furious actually!

We ate a wonderful dinner on top of that mountain. The food was pricey, but delicious. The best part of the meal however was collecting the money for the $400+ bill. I've never been so relaxed and calm as when Mr. Coordinator Guy and Ms. Flute Player looked high and low for a missing $100. I chuckled to myself as I figured out where the money was, but thought it would be funny not to tell them. (this is a joke of course...I thought you knew where it was...I really did). Group meals are so great, until the check comes. Then I always feel I should excuse myself and hang out in the bathroom until the bill is paid. I actually think Mr. Coordinator guy was skimming some off of the top to afford himself a spa treatment after our simple "walk." The money was found and everyone ran off of the top of that mountain like they knew something the rest of us didn't. Coordinator Guy, Flute Player, Beautiful Sister, Photo Girl and myself all stayed and watched a thrilling movie about a talking tram. Really it talked. We learned a lot and enjoyed a breathtaking view of the valley at night. Really awesome.

Sneaky Trumpet Player surprised us all with a wonderful brunch we thought we were paying for ourselves. He tricked us all and we all pretended to be frustrated. What a guy!! Thanks Sneaky Trumpet Player.

After the rest of the group disbanded the diehard of us decided to go to the zoo in Palm Desert. The company was great, but the animals were sad. The butterfly place was extremely stressful as all of these "Flying Cockroaches," flew everywhere. I don't know how anyone could work in an environment like that. The butterfly employees must have extreme road rage and kick their dogs often. Photo Girl took many wonderful pictures (which I hope to scrapbook...um so I need copies please). She insisted we always take our sunglasses off...our pictures will be squinty, but we'll all be glad that she thought of that. The best part of the day had to be being asked to stop watching an eagle eat its dinner. We were told it made the eagle nervous to be watched. To which Mr. Coordinator Guy softly replied, "Isn't this a zoo?" That was funny...very funny.

I'm sure I talked way too much and laughed too loud. My sides ache from the laughter. My mind is full from the knowledge I gained from Mr. Doctor and the talking tram. My heart is full with the blessings of calling all of you friend. Mrs. Blue Eyes I hope I gave you some new material for your book. I tried...I really tried.

Until next year... Have some Black Coffee unless of course you want cream with that.