This weekend I went on a magical journey to the land of tortillas. Many wonderful things happened. But I'll just cut to the chase and give the people what they want.

This guy was there:

Anna Swayne, Emily, and I flew into Phoenix on Thursday evening where Mr. Daniel currently resides. The plan was to stay at Daniel's place that night, wake up early on Friday, and drive to Rosarito Mexico.

I had stayed in my office all night the night before to get enough work done to be able to go on this trip. So by the time we arrived in Phoenix, I hadn't slept in about 40 hours.

Daniel sent the ladies to sleep in his bedroom and he and I crashed on the floor in his front room. I "slept" on his "couch," pictured below.

Note: that is a yoga mat. That is NOT a "couch," Mr. Daniel.

Because I hadn't seen Daniel since September, he was chatty mr. chatterpants FOR THE ENTIRE FREAKING NIGHT with the exception of the minutes between 3:45 and 4:22AM.

After hours of Daniel meowing at me every time I shut my eyes, and after repeatedly thinking "oh yeah. THIS is what it was like to live with you for 18 months," I saw Daniel suddenly spring from the floor and RUN outside.

I looked at the clock and saw that it was 3:45AM, and I wondered what reason he could possibly have to go outside at this hour.

I thought that maybe the apartment was on fire and he forgot to tell the rest of us. Or maybe Paul Simon was outside. Or maybe he just remembered that he left a thing of cookie butter in Palau.

Then I remembered that 94% of what Daniel does cannot be understood by any other human mind. And that it's usually easier to not try to understand it and instead just nod along and tell him he's doing a really good job at whatever nonsensical thing he's doing that will most definitely result in him pouring applesauce all over the kitchen and wondering what went wrong.

By 4:00 I started getting worried. And I wondered if I should go out looking for him. But I kept telling myself that Daniel is all growed up now and I didn't need to be his parent anymore.

Then he came back at 4:22, whistling, and carrying groceries he had just picked up from a 24-hour supermarket. Included with those groceries: a dozen roses, because "it's Valentine's Day, Eli. And our ladies deserve the best on Valentine's Day."

Twenty minutes later, at about 4:42, he stormed into the bedroom, each fist tightly clutching half of the dozen roses, and loudly pronounced, "WAKE UP SKANKS! IT'S VALENTINE'S DAY! AND I MADE YOU BREAKFAST!"

Then he threw the roses at them, dropped hot plates of not-quite-cooked-all-the-way-through cinnamon rolls he had just "baked" onto their laps and then informed them that they had thirty minutes to be ready to go "or I'll drag you out by your hair!"

We were on our way to Mexico shortly thereafter. And we had a great time. And Daniel only wanted to play Meow That Tune about 20 times.

Gosh I miss him.

We were probably traveling somewhere around 149 miles per hour when this picture was taken.

Mr. Daniel and Anna Swayne dancing on the beach.

Daniel modeling the reason we go to Mexico: handmade tortillas.

We spent many hours shopping. I spent most of this time sitting on anything that could support my weight and trying not to fall asleep. 

Sunset at dinner. 

With Ms. Emily.

Oh, and in case you were wondering whether Daniel has lost the Palau weight:

OMG!!! NSFW!!!!

~It Just Gets Stranger