Zoo! Photo-(b)log
Sunday was my seventh year wedding anniversary with the Frog. To celebrate, we went to the Santa Barbara zoo! I fed a giraffe! Here is proof!
It had a tongue like a Chinese yo-yo and it seemed to enjoy licking small children. There was a kid who started bawling when the giraffe gave him a full-body side lick. It made me think: how-many-licks-does-it-take-to-get-to-the-center -of-a-LITTLE-KID? Ha-ha. That ruled. The zoo was really cool. I'm not sure why we hadn't gone sooner. We walked around the whole place, gawked at the leopards, and sucked on Italian icies. At one point, I decided to hatch myself a husband:
Here he is, fully formed, in front of the monkey cage:
Here we are in front of the otters (you cannot see them, unfortunately; they are napping):
I also touched a snake, something I force myself to do, like, every ten years. I love how I am twenty years older than everyone else in the crowd (something that made it easier to elbow my way to the front):
Although my favorite part of the day was feeding the giraffe (crazy-tongued beast!!!), my other favorite part was seeing a fuzzy and silvery baby swan floating with its parents:
For dinner we went to my favorite Italian restaurant. I got the gnocchi (surprise, surprise) and tiramisu. For dessert we had chilled bing cherries...they were mmm-mmm good. When we got home we exchanged gifts. I bought the Frog a few dvds and a box of staples; he got me the complete Mr. Bean boxed set and season one of A Bit of Frye and Laurie. He also made me an egg, something he has not done in 8 years (since he asked me to marry him...well, more like we both asked each other).
Scott is a master of the shell. It was the unique strategy by which he wooed me when we first shacked up started dating. What he does is poke a hole in one end of an egg, drain it, let it dry, then fill it with frog poetry and confetti. After our first date I found an egg in the passenger side of my '81 Volkswagon Rabbit. It said "crack me open" on the side. When I cracked it, there was a little rolled up piece of paper asking me out on another date. Months later, when I returned from a horrible trip to see my family, I came home to a carton full of eggs, each one filled with confetti and poetry--one haiku per egg. With the advent of the Internet, Scott's egg-making went digital. In 1997, I returned from a two-month long trip to Eastern Europe to find that he'd made a dozen "electronic frog eggs" in the (now defunct) programming language of MTropolis. It made me happy that he can still make me an egg. Here is a picture of a slightly-out-of-focus and slightly-tipsy me-with-my-egg:
It was a really nice anniversary.
It had a tongue like a Chinese yo-yo and it seemed to enjoy licking small children. There was a kid who started bawling when the giraffe gave him a full-body side lick. It made me think: how-many-licks-does-it-take-to-get-to-the-center -of-a-LITTLE-KID? Ha-ha. That ruled. The zoo was really cool. I'm not sure why we hadn't gone sooner. We walked around the whole place, gawked at the leopards, and sucked on Italian icies. At one point, I decided to hatch myself a husband:
Here he is, fully formed, in front of the monkey cage:
Here we are in front of the otters (you cannot see them, unfortunately; they are napping):
I also touched a snake, something I force myself to do, like, every ten years. I love how I am twenty years older than everyone else in the crowd (something that made it easier to elbow my way to the front):
Although my favorite part of the day was feeding the giraffe (crazy-tongued beast!!!), my other favorite part was seeing a fuzzy and silvery baby swan floating with its parents:
For dinner we went to my favorite Italian restaurant. I got the gnocchi (surprise, surprise) and tiramisu. For dessert we had chilled bing cherries...they were mmm-mmm good. When we got home we exchanged gifts. I bought the Frog a few dvds and a box of staples; he got me the complete Mr. Bean boxed set and season one of A Bit of Frye and Laurie. He also made me an egg, something he has not done in 8 years (since he asked me to marry him...well, more like we both asked each other).
Scott is a master of the shell. It was the unique strategy by which he wooed me when we first shacked up started dating. What he does is poke a hole in one end of an egg, drain it, let it dry, then fill it with frog poetry and confetti. After our first date I found an egg in the passenger side of my '81 Volkswagon Rabbit. It said "crack me open" on the side. When I cracked it, there was a little rolled up piece of paper asking me out on another date. Months later, when I returned from a horrible trip to see my family, I came home to a carton full of eggs, each one filled with confetti and poetry--one haiku per egg. With the advent of the Internet, Scott's egg-making went digital. In 1997, I returned from a two-month long trip to Eastern Europe to find that he'd made a dozen "electronic frog eggs" in the (now defunct) programming language of MTropolis. It made me happy that he can still make me an egg. Here is a picture of a slightly-out-of-focus and slightly-tipsy me-with-my-egg:
It was a really nice anniversary.