Eleven Freaking Years, or Eleven Years of Freaking, Same Diff.

You know that fleeting moment, where you are sitting in front of the computer, watching William Shatner dance around, just knowing that any second the Marriott Hotel is totally going to accept your ridiculous offer of $35 a night. And while you enjoy their luxurious linens and room service, at a fraction of the price, you are laughing at all the idiots who paid full price for their rooms.

I just love that shiver of anticipation over the sweet, sweet deal that I know is going down, and as I bounce in my chair, thinking "Holy Shizzle, I am going to get an incredible room, for a ridiculous price,' I only get more excited as the little Priceline marquee keeps exclaiming that I am only minutes away from my hot reservation.

Then, up pops, Congratulations! The Provo Travelodge Motel has accepted your offer! That's when living on the edge, turns into, Oh shit. We are spending our 11th anniversary weekend at the Travelodge Motel.

Prior to booking our reservation, I called Daveskins to see if he just wanted me to book a nice room, or if he thought I should Priceline it, since it was our anniversary, and all. He could probably hear me bouncing in my seat, and said, "Whatever you want."

Good.

'Whatever I want', gets me into trouble sometimes, but I love just about any kind of a thrill, even if it means throwing my weekend accommodations to the wind. It's a good thing I married such an even tempered man, because when I sheepishly called Dave back to let him know we would be staying at a nasty motel for anniversary, he only said, "Oooohhh. It sounds nice."

I should have just shut my laptop right then and there, but curiosity got the better of me, and I started reading the traveler reviews for the place. The very first review was titled "Hooker Upstairs". It went on to complain about not getting any sleep because of a prostitute, (who they met over the continental breakfast the next morning) having about 5 or 6 different clients, and the walls were paper thin. The next several reviews mentioned stuff about hair, and carpet and smells. I called Dave in a panic, although truth be told, they had me at continental breakfast.

I am sure it was irritating to receive a call every 5 minutes from me, updating Dave on the latest review of our scurvy hotel, but he was pleasant and I didn't even hear him roll his eyes, when I told him I had devised a plan to get us out of it.

My plan didn't work and I just sounded like an idiot when I called to cancel the reservation because of my "Grandmother having a stroke", and then, when I couldn't get my money back from Priceline, calling the motel back and telling them it looked like she was going to pull through, and we would love to stay at their fine establishment if my booking had not already been taken. Whew!

I thought I had really pulled a fast one, until I heard a small voice behind me say, "What's a stroke, and why did Grandma have one?" Ah, Dawson. I quickly discarded the notion of telling him the truth; Well, Son, your Liar Mother got herself into a pickle and was trying not to bring home lice, or hepatitis from my Anniversary weekend. Instead, I went the half truth route, by explaining how sometimes when Gram just stares straight ahead, and doesn't acknowledge that he is talking to her, that is a stroke. It's most likely that she doesn't hear him, but who am I to say that it isn't actually a mini-stroke. They're really hard to prove.

We usually go to Salt Lake the first weekend in December for an Anniversary-slash-Christmas shopping trip, but had to go the Provo route since I dropped the tranny in my Tahoe last week and that is where it was getting fixed. The whole way down the canyon, I had a sick feeling in my stomach about our motel. Dave just made jokes, and tried to get me to relax, but I had all sorts of scenarios conjured up in my mind. We made a pack, that if I smelled one thing awry, or if anything flew into the air when I did a sheet fluff, that we would head straight for a reputable hotel.

All that worry was for nothing. When we nudged open the door to room 106, I took a big whiff, and nothing but fresh, clean smell. Yay! I am not talking about the 'we just used a bucket of bleach to clean up the crime scene' type smell, just clean goodness. Same went for the linen check. It was an older motel, but served our purposes just fine, AND I am sure we payed much less than our neighbors. Another successful Priceline bargain.

We had an awesome weekend, and laughed until we were sick. Dave needed some new pants, and since we were close to the mall, we wandered around until he found some he liked. He went into the dressing room to try them on, and after what seemed like forever, I caught his eye over the doors, and he motioned for me to come. When he opened the door for me to see, I nearly peed my pants. There stood my incredibly hot husband in the most ridiculous pair of skinny jeans I have ever seen. I teared up, laughing at the denim sucked tight around his low riding hips and thighs, the perfectly tapered legs, and his enormous size 13s poking out the cuffs. He just stood there, looking in the mirror, and at his spectacle of a wife, and forlornly inquired if we might be, in fact, too old to follow the trends. A resounding YES! Lucky for us, Tuffskins never go out of style.

We were able to catch a few movies, nothing great, and we both fell asleep during the 9:40 showing of The Invention of Lying. I think that was a first for both of us, and yet another indication of our aging. We ate at all our favorite haunts, Ruby River, Tucanos, basically anything with red meat involved, and mostly finished all our Christmas shopping. It was an awesome weekend.

The very best part of the weekend came on Friday morning. I have been making Dave a surprise little slide show of our last 13 years together. I put it to music and cried every time I worked on it. Friday, we did a session at the Provo Temple and when we came out, we climbed in the back seat of Dave's truck to watch the DVD. We laughed, and cried, and reminisced about all the things we have been through together. It was incredible. I love him more than I ever thought possible.