they did not have last holiday. unbelievable...

I have just returned from my birthday present from Melissa: A weekend at the Carneros Inn. The extravagant present was made even more glitzy, because a little bird called ahead and told them to be nice to us. As a result, Melissa and I arrived to trumpets, fanfare and an upgrade from a regular room to a huge, two-bedroom house.

As Trevor (That's not his real name, it's just what I started calling him) showed us around the house we'd be occupying for the weekend, Melissa and I tried to play it cool. As a result, Trevor was subjected to two 30-somethings with a serious case of the giggles.

Melissa and I each had, in essence, our own wing with separate bedrooms and bathrooms. So instead of going to a big fancy dinner for my birthday, we went to the Carneros Inn's fancy little market, got fancy little sandwiches, filled plastic bags full of gummi bears and malt balls and retired to our living room, watching Titanic as we sat in front of the fireplace.

We did our nails and Melissa busted out her super fancy potions and creams, we we slapped on our faces. In my rapidly advancing age, I could not have been happier spending my 33rd birthday in hotel robes doubled over in laughter all night with my number one ho.

Saturday, we headed to the Napa outlets, came back to the HOUSE and got ready for dinner at FARM, the hotel's grown-up restaurant. Our server, Trevor Number Two, was tasked with finding us a DVD copy of "Last Holiday."

"It's starring Queen Latifah and L.L. Cool J, Trevor."

"Got it. I got it. What if they don't have it?"

"Are you kidding me? They'd better have it."

"Okay, well while I go find you your DVD, I took the liberty of ordering you guys the chocolate souffle."

"Um, Trevor Number Two, I love you a little bit right now."

As Trevor Number Two left, we debated inviting him back to our pad. We tried to find an appropriate way of making this happen. "Okay, okay. Just say, 'Trevor. What do you say we blow this joint and you come back to our place? We can hang out, maybe all crawl into one of the beds and snuggle, watch a little Last Holiday. Nothing sexual, of course. Just, you know, smell our hair. Kiss us each on the forehead after we fall asleep...'"

"I can't say that."

"WHY NOT?"

We didn't, of course. We ended up hanging out at the bar and watching 'How to Marry a Millionaire' in French.

And now we're home, after police had to be called this afternoon to forcibly remove us. It was a wonderful weekend, although really, I could spend 48 hours in a Motel 6 at a rest-stop on I-80 with Melissa Griffin and have the best time of my life.

Which is a good thing, since I think that's what we're doing for my 34th.

PS: Lots of new VYou questions and answers up, featuring two answered by me and Mel, including one reader who wants to know why I was so rude when I met them. Oooohhhhhh...