Ryan visited us last weekend…and if one powerful force wasn’t enough, he brought his cream soda drinking, Ambien taking, chain smoking younger brother ‘Karl.’ My house instantly flipped over to the testosterone side, as the boys spent hours playing video games on multiple screens set up all over the house. Sure, I got involved with the Wii, playing a few rounds of bowling and then switching to Donkey Konga–complete with conga drums. But my attention was short, and I found myself hiding in my room reading a book or outside with Hobbes trying to catch a few fleeting rays of sunshine.

Me, pulling the big head trick on myself, with Ryan:

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Ryan, thankfully, loves sushi so, just like the good old days, we took in Blue C like it was going out of style:

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Having a house full of guys was worth it all to see Josh so happy. Suddenly, he was kicking thirty to the curb and staying up until 2am, shouting cheerful obsentities at the tv screen, eating chips by the bagful, and having burping contests. It was like having six brothers–that’s three boys times two–and I grinned and bared it. After all, we’re still mad that Ryan left us all to marry a Canadian.

In an effort to get them out of the house, we went to the Sculpture Garden in the cold and dismal rain. Here I am hiding in one of the sculptures:

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Incidentally, that orange coat I am wearing was purchased six years ago–when orange was at the height of unpopularity.  I bought it for 70% off in Breckenridge and hardly ever wore it until I entered the polar fleece necessity of Seattle.  Now everywhere I go, hipsters are ogling it, wanting to touch its shiny plastic exterior.
And it wouldn’t be a public place if Ryan didn’t find something to hump:

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