Holy cats, why didn't someone warn me the Bob Hope Classic was this weekend, along with the Palm Springs Film Festival? The Coachella Valley was a hopping place filled with celebrities and bad out-of-town drivers. Despite this, I had a very quiet and relaxing weekend. Talked my head off, ate my head off, slept a prodigious amount, and went to the spa at the Marriott Desert Springs resort with Mary Lou where we both had the "holistic" massage. I was a happy, slightly rubbery person after an hour of having all the kinks worked out. We sat in the sauna, drank a great deal of water with fresh lemons and cucumbers in it, took showers using the spa's own shampoo, conditioner and body wash, then sat around in fluffy robes and read magazines. I could get used to that kind of life.
Dad and I watched a fair amount of the golf tournament on tv, as well as pro football and college basketball. That's far more sports than I watch in an entire year, but it was a bonding thing and I didn't really pay too much attention to the tv most of the time. I can tell you who won, and that's the extent of it.
We went out Saturday night for Mary Lou's birthday to a pretty restaurant called the Cliffhouse (right on the border of La Quinta just past the new tennis stadium). It had spectacular views, good food, and a nice big fire to keep the chill off the patio where we ate. It's built right up against a cliff and from where I sat it looked like the cowboys would be coming over the top of the craggy hill at any moment. Looking the other way, I could see the San Jacinto mountains turning into smoky blue silhouettes in the deepening twilight. I really love the desert with its dramatic landscapes and soothing colors.
Reading The Desert Sun each morning was enlightening. Housing prices are so affordable in the Palm Springs area! My gosh, John and I could be in a big, beautiful place for under $200,000, and well under that for a gorgeous townhouse with all the best amenities. It comforted me, reminding me that when we do buy we'll probably be able to sell for enough to retire somewhere else affordable, even with the crazy and possibly unstable Bay Area economics.
Sunday I went, as usual, to the Palm Desert Street Fair where I got some sun and enjoyed the amazing outfits people wear on desert vacations. Boy, there was more gold lame and rhinestone t-shirts than you could shake a stick at. The women wear the most astonishing colors, and they always seem to top them off with outlandish headgear anchored by a big tulle bow in back. The men wear jokey pants and polo-style shirts with country club names on them. Everyone's tanned within an inch of their lives and dripping with gold chains. It's a hoot.
And now I'm home again, after a truly relaxing stay with my folks. It's cold and raining, my dog needs walking, my husband's in the other room watching the Golden Globes and ogling celebrities instead of spending quality time with me, and I'm updating this diary. Business as usual.
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