Now that I'm finally catching up on some blog posting, I'm eager to tell you about my date with Von Krankipantzen! After our Alaska trip we ended up in her home city where Rob and I met her for sushi.

She was delightful, just as I expected her to be. She is kind and spunky and wise. I know "wise" is an adjective usually reserved for owls and old people, but it really is the right word in this case. She has such a solid perspective on things and is true to herself.

Also, she might have given me a bit of a scoop on the upcoming calendar. Not saying that she did, just that she might have.

I feel like this is an awkward shot, what with the severed shoulders and all. It looks like we're conjoined twins or something. Although, I must say, it wouldn't be so bad being stuck to Stacey. I like her a lot.

One thing I never expected when I joined the rescue squad is that I would become good buddies with a bunch of men in their 50s.

Every Wednesday I spend my evening with these guys. There are some younger guys, and girls, who come and go from time to time, but four of us comprise the core Wednesday evening crew: me, and three men the same age as my father.

Age is the least of our differences. They're conservative in their beliefs and often narrow-minded in their thinking. But then, that's not so different from much of my family, really. And like family, I adore these guys despite our varying viewpoints. They are truly good men.

One is a retired dairy farmer who's shopping for a Mazda Miata and talks about getting a Ford emblem tattoo on his butt. He adores his kids, who are my age, and is the kindest person you could ever ask to meet.

One is a "grumpy older man." That's what I wrote next to his name after first meeting him, on the list I was keeping of everyone I'd met as a way to remember names. Grumpy older man. He is, and he isn't. If he likes you, he's a dear. And he likes me. He's my fellow EMT, and often my teacher, too. He had a heart attack only a couple months after I'd joined the crew, and that immediately deepened our bond, as serious health events often do. He loves to fish, rides a scooter, and swings an arm across my shoulders when we're walking somewhere.

One brings us dessert almost every week. He likes cooking in his dutch oven, and his specialty, pineapple-upside cake, is to die for. He always watches American Idol and votes every week for his favorite contestant. He's the squad captain, beloved by everyone, and his is the respect I most value.

We're a team. We run calls together, and sooner or later we'll save a life together. We have inside jokes, and play the occasional prank. We go out to dinner, or sometimes make dinner together. We watch COPS. We make fun of people. It's a rare evening that passes without a dirty joke or a mention of boobs. We tease each other, and make each other laugh. One night we stood outside and watched the space station glide across the sky. We swap stories. We share our weekend plans and ask about each other's families. We're friends. They're my fellas.

This past year one of my blessings has been my workout buddies. My typical weekly workout routine includes Curves, swimming, and now yoga, and each of these activities I do with a good friend. In addition to the motivation these friends provide to actually show up and not wuss out, it's also emotionally energizing to spend time each week with them.

Mom and I have been going to Curves for several years now. Although I started going mostly just to support her, I am considerably more toned than I was when I began. But more importantly, I love having a reason to see Mom 3 times a week. The workout is a bit like our relationship - routine and comfortable.

HFD is my swimming partner. Considering our shared love for the ocean and dolphins and such, this is an appropriate activity for us to do together. The way our schedules work out, we both end up getting to the pool about 15 minutes before it opens for lap swimming. So we sit in the locker room and chat. And then we chat some more while taking breaks between lap sets. The place we swim is sorta ghetto, so there's also plenty of opportunity for snarking, something else we love to do.

I've just recently been brought back to yoga by another friend. She is 25 years my elder and has been so many things to me through the years - a teacher, a colleague, and always a mentor. Occasionally we'll go somewhere afterwards for a real conversation, but usually we just talk as we walk to our cars. But somehow, just moving through the poses together seems like enough. She has always brought me reflection and clarity, and yoga is yet another way that I can receive that, indirectly, from her.

It's such a gift to have a moment each week to reconnect with a close friend, to swap silly stories, share frustrations, or just see a friendly face. And these moments provide a continuity that I believe deepens our friendship. With the support, of mind and body, from these women, it's no wonder I'm feeling stronger than ever.

When we disembarked the cruise ship, back in Venice, Rob & I and Doreen & Apollo* parted ways. They were flying out that day, and we were spending one more day in Venice. They were planning to while away an hour or so before heading to the airport, and we wanted to go further into the city, so we said goodbye and went on our way.

Rob and I dropped our stuff at the hotel and started heading in the direction of a cathedral we wanted to see. We walked a bit, and then turned a corner - and there were Doreen and Apollo. Sitting at a table in the corner of a little plaza, looking very Italian - he smoking a cigarette and she sipping a latte. We were delighted by this happenstance reunion. As Doreen said, you'd think after spending over a week together, two couples would be tired of being together, but we were all happy to see each other again less than an hour after parting.

Or maybe they were just being nice. It takes traveling with other people, and viewing yourself through their eyes, to realize just how potentially annoying you might be. I am - and I'm sure this will come as a surprise - a bit anal. You know, slightly. For this reason, when Rob and I are traveling I am the designated Important Paper Keeper. I am responsible for keeping up with passports, tickets, etc. because not having control of those things literally would drive me insane. And I also must confirm that our travel companions have their shit in gear. ("You have your tickets, right? What about your room key? Do you want to bring a water bottle? What about sunscreen? We should probably hurry or we're going to miss the shuttle.") It sounds completely high-strung, but it calms me to confirm these things. You know, constantly. Rob's a responsible person, but the reason I'm the Important Paper Keeper is that he doesn't check to make sure he still has these things every 5 minutes like I do, and I cannot relax knowing that our passports might have fallen out of the secret passport pocket (practically impossible, but still) and he wouldn't notice for, like, hours. He argues that the very act of checking to make sure everything is still there makes it more likely that something will fall out, to which I respond, "Except not, because I keep checking it!" Which might not sound like a logical response, but I am not here to be logical. I am here to keep track of shit and I have a system and IT WORKS.

Are you starting to see what it would be like to travel with us? Because we bicker like that, Rob smart-assedly pointing out the flaws in my plans and me bossing him around like it's my job. Except it's not really bickering so much as it's dysfunctional flirting. There is nothing more romantic than a well-timed "Yeah, fuck you." But to other people I suspect we appear just like one of those cranky couples, married for 60+ years, who grumble at each other simultaneously and interrupt each other's stories with, "No, no, you're telling it all wrong." Of course, maybe that's all just foreplay, too.

Fortunately Doreen and Apollo are laidback and good-natured and hardly even bat an eye when I am brutally smacking Rob's arm while he's driving because there's a spider on it. Somehow they manage to just exchange a look and laugh (with only a slight tinge of fear) as I scream at Rob about how SHIT THERE'S A SPIDER ON YOUR SLEEVE and DO NOT FLICK IT ON ME and JUST LET ME KILL IT all while Rob is yelling back that he's DRIVING HERE, hello!

And that's us on our best behavior. Because while Doreen has known us for years and manages to love us despite ourselves, I was afraid on this trip we would be more than Apollo wanted to sign up for, you know? Deranged friends can be a dealbreaker. So we tried our best to behave ourselves.

Good thing, too, because for most of the trip Apollo was carrying around a diamond ring. Surely trying to decide if he could tolerate knowing Rob & I for the rest of his life. Or, you know, maybe waiting for the right time to propose. But probably the first one.

He did propose, and she said yes, and we are thrilled for them! She has been family to us for nearly all our lives, and he has felt like family to us since the first time we met him. I am looking so forward to their wedding day, and not just because I pledged to say "titbits" in my toast.

*I have been trying to find the right blog nickname for Doreen's man and have taken suggestions and considered several options including Mr. F, Special K, and Damn Shitbird. But I think this one fits the best, for various reasons: our trip to the temple, his love for literature, the fact that he's a twin and, perhaps most of all, that he has great Greek god hair.

Rob and I have made travel a priority in our life together, a decision that we repeatedly congratulate ourselves on. I cannot overemphasize the value our travels have brought to our perspectives and to our general satisfaction in life and even to our relationship. One of my favorite things about us is that in conversation (with ourselves and others) we frequently begin sentences with, "What was interesting about the Middle East..." or "When we were in London..." or "This reminds me of that place in San Francisco..." Sometimes I think it must sound like we're place-name dropping, but the truth is just that our very thoughts are informed by our travel experiences. I never thought I would be that person, the globetrotter who has tales from all over the world, and I feel very fortunate for so many opportunities to travel. Of course, we've made adjustments to our lifestyle in order to accommodate this priority - we manage our money wisely so that we have the funds for these trips, we've delayed any consideration of children until we're willing to give up, or at least slow up, travel for awhile - but these are eager "sacrifices." I wouldn't trade our travels for anything.

But it was Doreen, not Rob, who was my first travel companion. In fact, our treks to foreign countries are what fostered my passion for travel. We toured France and Spain for 10 days with a group from our high school. (We celebrated my 16th birthday in Madrid, and I will never forget the Happy Birthday, Kelly! banner Doreen had packed in her suitcase.) And then the next year we spent 2 weeks in Mexico, living with a host family in Mexico City while doing mission work with our youth group. I have so many awesome memories from those trips with her: sipping sangria while watching flamenco dancers in Madrid, portrait sketches on La Rambla in Barcelona, walking in awe through Monet's Giverny, bickering over directions in Paris (she was right), climbing the pyramid in Teotihuacán.

Back then, we made a pact that when we were grown, we'd take our men and travel to Italy together. Doreen has since been to Italy a couple times without me, during college and for work, but we still talked about "someday" when we'd go together. Last fall, when Rob and I were trying to decide between Italy and a Mediterranean cruise for our next trip, Doreen and K said they'd love to go on the cruise, and that made the decision for us.

We leave in a few days. It's going to be a trip that leans more toward past cultures and architecture than sandy beaches, which is much more our preference. There are stops in Greece, Turkey, and Croatia. And the cruise departs from Venice, so we'll be spending a few days together in Italy after all. It's a trip I obviously would be super-excited about anyway, but I am downright giddy that we all get to spend an entire week together and that I will be experiencing each new place with my original travel buddy.

Toledo, Spain 1996

Yesterday we returned from a long weekend in Florida with JLD & HFD, a trip during which I GOT TO SWIM WITH DOLPHINS! I have been bursting to talk about this, but given my history with the universe, I knew better than to blog about it in advance this time. In fact, I have been afraid to talk about it at all in more than a whisper, so worried the universe would make note of my excitement and ruin everything. One night last week, JLD was later getting home than he thought he'd be, and HFD told me that she woke up around midnight, realized he wasn't home yet, and her first sleepy thought was that he'd been in an accident because of the dolphins, because that was the way the universe had decided to keep me from them this time. Totally within the realm of possibility, people. But fortunately there was no accident. Nor was there a hurricane or canceled flight or sudden dolphin plague or any of the other 1000 potential disasters I had imagined might possibly prevent me from swimming with the dolphins.

Rob and JLD spent Friday at an aviation convention while HFD and I went to Discovery Cove where we got to play with sting rays and snorkel with tropical fish and, you know, SWIM WITH DOLPHINS! HFD's dream job is to be a dolphin trainer and I have always wanted to be a mermaid so, as you can imagine, for the two of us this was one of the Best Days EVER.

HFD and me, so freaking excited!

Swimming! With CJ the dolphin!

Smooching with dolphins

It seems I can check this off my life list now, although I'm not sure there's any point because I'd just turn around and add the very same item back to the list. These creatures are so exquisite, and the experience so enchanting, that I only hope I have the opportunity to do this many more times in my life.

My brother and I are talking on the phone, and I am laughing. He has called to ask me a Jeopardy! question, to see if I know the answer. (I don't.) "That's all I needed," he says, but neither of us say goodbye and half an hour later we are still chatting, moving easily from topic to topic. We're different in a lot of ways, in our interests and beliefs and approach. And yet we are made of the same stuff; we share the same genes and the same history. And so we are similar in fundamental ways. I'm reminded of this in the way the rhythm of his speech is like mine, and in the way our conversation jumps ahead, skipping unnecessary sentences because we're already on the same page, thinking the same thing. If we both live to be old, we will have known each other longer than anyone else in our lives.

Little did I realize, when I used to squeeze my little brother's wrist until he cried, that he would someday become one of my closest friends.