So James Dean

After the drama of this week at work, I absolutely need a break. I don't mean a break where I sip wine in a bubble bath with epsom salts, I mean one where I find myself in a kinder gentler era befitting my nature. Of course, one can't simply travel back in time, but some sort of trip is in order.

I've just this moment been absolutely saved by Jacob. He's arranged accomodations this weekend at the Wyndam in...wait, did I hear him correctly...Pittsburgh? Well the very name of the city seems an affront to anyone of any sensibility at all, but he assures me its nothing of the sort, during the summer anyway. He promises cooler weather, and a lovely picnic in a park as we watch the Pittsburgh Vintage Grand Prix. I hardly know the first thing about cars, much less vintage ones, but Jacob promises its the event of its kind, and if I'm in the right mood, I can just imagine that it will be James Dean piloting The Little Bastard around us. Apparently he knows someone with corporate sponsorship, so its all arranged, and all we have to do is show up and have our whims catered to. I suppose I need to add a little note here that Jacob will be imagining James Dean also. Sorry Jacob, I just don't want to answer the usual questions from those who may not know you.

I suppose I am looking forward to it. I expect the picnic will be picture perfect, and if the mood strikes me I may even take a few photos to share with you my gentle readers. Jacob says they have the cutest little antebellum three-wheel formula cars. That means I won't be posting anything this weekend. I'm sure those of you who have become use to this damsel's daily dose will suffer some separation anxiety, but the hardship should not endure.