back to normal life now

And that pretty much sums up how I feel about last week. I love my job and I love introducing people to Washington wine country, but man, pooping in your own toilet without worrying if anyone will hear or need to use the bathroom afterward feels really, really good.

And believe me, you make a lot of poop when you find yourself having so little time that breakfast means guiltily shoveling fast food into your face in the corner of a hotel ballroom while setting up for a wine seminar.

So much shame.

I'm also really thrilled to get back to a regular training schedule. I only managed one workout last week -- a short, 30-minute run through the vineyard. The view was gorgeous; my huffing and puffing was not.

I love me a good sunrise.

Anyway, as I make the transition back to normal life, I thought I'd share some fashion highlights from this weekend's tasting. (You know, since I'm the epitome of age-appropriate workplace fashion in my Uggs, leggings-as-pants and puffy NorthFace jackets.)

First, let me point out that Comicon was also happening in Seattle at the same time. So I think this is a costume for that, or else maybe someone was pouring mead at one of the tables and of course it had to be magical mead with the secret power to open a time-traveling doorway to another period and then she stepped through and boom, things got crazy.

Although not quite as crazy as when the Sugar Plum Fairy arrived and we all found ourselves in Prom 2. Cue up the Alphaville, folks.

"Forever young, I want to be forever young ..."

Best part: She showed up again the next day, ready for the races. 

(Seriously, though, I think she was a vendor at the event and decided to dress a little wacky to stand out from the crowd. Which clearly worked because now I can't stop writing about her. Dear crazy fashion lady: I applaud you.)

And then there was this:

Again, I'm pretty sure he was a vendor and this was the outfit he had to wear for work (where do these people work and why?), but the denim on denim plus the overall romper plus the rugby socks? Amazing.

Obviously, I celebrated the culmination of a successful event by rushing out and buying the Exact Same Denim Overall Romper.

Just kidding. I drank whiskey and ate a huge steak. 

in the homestretch

I know you've all been holding your breath, wondering how I'm surviving the 24 Days of Non-stop Work.

This past Saturday, as I was loading/cleaning out the giant SUV I rented to drive journalists around all weekend, I locked myself out of my apartment with nothing but a bag of cat food. My neighbor -- god bless him -- helped me prop a ladder against the side of the building so I could climb two stories in a sundress (thank god I wore granny undies that day) and break into my bathroom.

And that pretty much sums things up.

But at least I'm not boob-sweating in Texas anymore. TexSom was a great experience -- in fact, I can't stop telling everyone about the incredible South African wine seminar I attended there (get your paws on the De Wetshof 2011 Bateleur Chardonnay if you are ever lucky enough to come across it) -- but man, it's good to be back in the Pacific Northwest.

Some parting shots from my time in the Lone Star State: 

Pink pants, no socks, loafers.

Cowboy + business casual + bike messenger + 90s baggies = You're on my blog

Yes, folks, those are green legwarmers with heels.

And you remember my embarrassing cockroach incident, right? This is what my boss found in the urinal at the hotel: 

You know it's a great working relationship when he takes photos of monstrous, pee-covered bugs and texts them to you. (Dear Washington: Best career choice ever! Hugs!)

Anyway, I spent the past five days hosting visiting writers for an annual auction event in Woodinville. There were no cockroaches, but there was this:

Perhaps he is returning from the Crisis in Candyland.

Also, I would like to commend my group of visiting journalists for allowing me to drag them on a rainy bike ride Friday morning. (This is why you shouldn't let me plan the itinerary -- I will make you part of my Ironman training, and we will do it in Pacific Northwest weather.)

At least the scenery was pretty. The Sammamish River Trail is one of my favorite spots.

And exercise was a good thing because the rest of the media tour was full of this:

One of the best meals I've ever had, no joke.

The crudo from Cafe Juanita. I died.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I could barely zip up my dress when it was time for the main event.

Rented the date dress, btw.

Also, please note my accessory in the above photo. (No, not referring to the boy, although he is pretty, yes?) That is a wristband. For the transition area at Iron Girl. Because only normal people think it's a good idea to work a triathlon into an already-insane schedule. (More on that later. Seriously, so much to write, so little time!)

Anyway, I dropped off my last media guest at the airport at exactly 8:35 last night. So I am done hosting. And I will finally have a weekend off starting this Friday (although the travel won't stop -- headed to Vancouver for SeaWheeze). I see the light at the end of the tunnel (and it's shining brightly on $100 yoga pants that hopefully aren't see-through).

where the hell am I?

So I am 13 days into a 24-day-straight work run. Which means two things: It's event season in the wine world, and I'm borderline certifiable right now. (About that last part -- what else is new, right?)

Last weekend I was in San Francisco for the Eat Drink SF, which I personally think should be rebranded as the Wine Country Casual Super Fashion Spectacular. For example:

Hey, it's Austin Powers!

"I'm a 'dancer.'" Wink wink.

Someone please tell me this is a joke.

Yes, folks, I am a terribly judgmental person. But come on. Look at that last photo. What the hell was that dude thinking?! Did he really look in a mirror and think: "So I have these fish-print shorts, and they maybe sort of look like I'm in my boxers, but no one will think they're underwear if I wear this amazing floral shirt with them. Hey, girl, hey."

Anyway. I'm in Texas right now. Irving, to be exact. TexSom, if you really want to get down to the nitty-gritty. And in typical fashion, I've already had some dumb adventures.

First, I had a 6:45 a.m. flight yesterday. And still went out the night before. I met some winery friends for what was supposed to be a mellow dinner with a margarita (singular), but then three margaritas and three glasses of wine later, I was at their house holding a meat cone (yes, you read that correctly) and it was after midnight.

See? I don't lie about meat cones.

I showed up at the airport still in -- how shall we word this? -- "fun mode" and wearing the same clothes from the night before. And then got on the plane, landed in This Place That Feels Like Standing Under a Heater Every Time You Go Outside and went into a 3.5-hour planning meeting with our two PR agencies. And the whole time I was thinking: I have no idea what I put in my suitcase.

How to know you're a professional: When you open said suitcase and find three dresses, a romper, three nice blouses to wear with jeans, running clothes, swim gear (including a kickboard and pull buoy), three pairs of shoes and enough underwear. Man, sometimes I impress even myself. (Sorry, no fish shorts, though.)

But wait, it gets better: Then we all hopped in an Uber to go to dinner. The driver was very thoughtful and had a plastic box of candy in the backseat for his passengers. I was holding it open in my lap so my coworker could snap a photo and pick out a lollipop. And that's when I noticed the absolutely gigantic cockroach hiding in the Dum Dums. I shrieked bloody murder and threw that shit on the floor so fast that I'm really surprised we didn't get into a car accident.

Roach, upper right corner

I don't think I will ever live this incident down.

Anyway, after the cockroach-induced near-heart attack experience, we went to a steakhouse and proceeded to clog our arteries.

Oh, look: A bacon tasting!

Because we are awesome (and it was my boss's birthday), the chef sent out two extra steaks. And the largest one somehow ended up in front of me.

Size matters

Can't wait to see what adventures are in store for me today. One thing is guaranteed, though: They will surely involve the meat sweats.