Even though the purpose of this trip to California was mostly work, the bride and I took shameless advantage of the critter's grandparents being here and headed off for a couple of days of kid-free Monterey time. Don't look at me that way. They miss her. She misses them. We miss naked time. Everybody wins. In a former life, I had lived for almost two years in Monterey, and it's always been a favorite place of ours. So we spent our days kayaking and going to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, and generally enjoying the luxurious freedom of not having to entertain a talking raccoon or worry about someone elses bowel movements for a few hours. For years now, my bride has been telling me how wonderful 'spa days' are, and that guys really don't know what they're missing. So when I booked a massage and aroma-scrub for her as a special treat, I figured I'd book myself for something too. I spent at least 3 minutes looking at the options before selecting the 'warm riverstone massage.' That sounded suitably masculine. I mean, yeah, it's a massage, but it involves rocks, right? How girly can it be? So I call up and make the reservations. 'One aroma-scrub facial body rub for my bride, and one rock massage for me.' 'Warm riverstone it is, sir. Do you have a preference of male or female therapist?' 'Female. From your used-to-work-at-Hooters division.' I could actually hear the woman rolling her eyes. We booked it for after our sea-kayak excursion, figuring we'd get the most relaxation for our buck that way. We were seated and offered our choice of herbal teas picked by ancient Chinese nuns or spring water. I chose the water. My bride was escorted back first by a pleasant young woman, and about 5 minutes later, a cute little lady in her 20s came out and introduced herself as Andria, my massage therapist. She was about 4'10 and couldn't have weighed a hundred pounds. She escorts me back to the massage room, and says, 'have you ever had the riverstone massage before?' Perhaps I should have been alarmed at the light in her eyes when I said no, but I listened politely as she told me that it is a wonderfully relaxing treatment, she's sure I'll enjoy it, and oh, by the way, please let me know if at any point the stones are a 'little too hot'. Soon I was completely disrobed and face down under the sheets, and she came back in the room and proceeded to cook me like a campfire chicken, putting stones warm enough to boil a stew on my joints and, from the feel of it, using a special massage-therapist flying elbow drop to relax my muscles. I'm convinced she also put the stones in her pockets as she worked: no way could a woman so tiny have that kind of stopping force. All this set to the soundtrack of the Dalai Lama's top 10 music countdown. At the end, she leaned down and said quietly 'I'm finished, but I want you to stay still and enjoy the relaxation and hot stones for as long as you would like. And when you get up, you'll find a towel on the table to wipe away your tears.' My bride came out glowing and relaxed and met me at the pub next door. 'Did you have a good time?' 'Can't. Move.' 'Oh! It's so relaxing isn't it? I bet those stones were neat.' All kidding aside, it was a good experience, even if I was a little unprepared. Anybody stopping through Monterey should go see them. Ask for Andria. Just tell her to go easy with the rocks.

This week and next all the Gradys are back in California. Kind of a joint work+holiday trip. Well, it's work for me, holiday for the bride and critter, who is being shamelessly spoiled by her grandparents during our stay. Every trip back is packed to the gills trying to fit in as many lunch/dinner/pick-your-eating-event visits with friends as we can. This serves two purposes: first - we get to spend time with People We Like. Second, we get to cram our pie-holes with the flavors we miss living overseas, like dim sum or sushi, or Taco Bell. Last night, we left the critter with the grandparents and went out with my bride's grade school friend Patty, one of our Favorite People, and ate some of the good raw fish stuff. Somehow, the conversation drifted to my bride's baby shower several years ago. Patty does an excellent Donna Reed impression. She was telling us how all the womens were sitting around in their proper lace dresses and hats and gloves, or whatever they wear to these things, and talking about the pending blessing to descend on our house (which would be accompanied by swearing and high levels of medication, and is overall a far more revolting process than anyone thinks to tell you about) I forget what I was out doing, but whatever it was, it was surely manly and testosterone-enhanced, involving fire and meat and car parts. This was the conversation she related: Woman in Hat: Oh, what do you think the sex will be? I hope it's a girl. Woman in Gloves: Oh, I bet it will be a boy. She's carrying low. Woman Sipping Tea: My sister had twin boys, she's so happy now. Woman Wearing Pearls: Oh! Twins would be so nice! ...Group titter... Our Other Good, but Generally Quiet in Large Gatherings Friend: It could be both you know. Research shows that babies born with dual sets of genitalia are increasingly common. It's a scientific fact. ... sound of pin dropping ... I laughed so hard I cried when she told me that story. I told her that I am so going to tell the internet that story.

A personal anecdote as a US ex-pat living in the UK right now: It's been interesting to see and hear the reactions here first-hand, so close to what we went through in the US after 9/11. Fortunately, my colleagues and team members in London were all safe, so the tragic events didn't touch me directly. However, I had been planning my team's meeting next week for months, planning to bring together my entire team (>20) from across EU (Germany, UK, France, Italy) in a single 2 day event, scheduled for - you guessed it - London. This morning, we had a team conference call, and I expressed that while my personal instinct is to go ahead with the meeting, I will not ask anyone who is uncomfortable, or whose family is uncomfortable, to travel to London given the events of yesterday. Every one of them echoed the same sentiment - no, that's how the terrorists win. My heart and thoughts go out to those impacted by the senseless criminal bombings in London yesterday. But I can only say that I'm proud to be witness to the response and resolve of the British and Europeans in the face of this event.