Procrastinating 101

While it was a merry Christmas for the Anderson-Baldwin (me) clan, I did a poor job capturing the moments on film. Or on digital, whatever, that just sounds dumb. I'm sure you're secretly relieved. Or maybe not so secretly!

It was the usual quiet but nice affair. I visited Sophie on Christmas Eve, and then Ken and I went to his grandmothers for Christmas dinner and the opening of gifts. Linda and Margie took it easier this year so we only got three big bags of stuff - they have a tough time dialing it down. But they did get us some really nice stuff, and their thoughtfulness is always appreciated. Mickey (Linda's baby boy) received his "smoking jacket" from me & Kenny. Really just me, I've told him that next year if he continues his lack of participation in the thought process and payment process, just my name is going on the gifts. We'll see how that works out.

Kenny's belated gift was finally ready today so I went and picked it up. It was a magazine cover with Indy on it, one I had picked up while we were on one of our trips to Vegas this past year, I had it framed. It looks incredibly awesome. They did the cover and two pages of the inside story. I thought it would look nice in his office...when he gets a new office, that is. Even he acknowledged I "probably won't allow it up in the house." I'm a bitch. If we had a dedicated office space, or a game room or something I would. But it can't go just anywhere, I do have rules (never mind the fact it's his house).

I seriously have zilch to say. I think it's a first. I'm procrastinating working. I've procrastinated it all weekend. I've done about an hour on it so far today, will dedicate another hour to it before leaving it for tomorrow, where I can be in a giant rushed panic. That's the way I roll, regrettably. Maybe I'll change that for next year. I'm working on my Affirmations for 2009 list. They're going to be more specific for the coming year, perhaps with deadlines for accomplishment. I seem to work better with deadlines.

We received two free cruise offers in the mail on Saturday. I've had a very hard decision to decide which offer to take. One leaves out of San Jan and goes to the Southern Caribbean. It includes my 12-year-old-dream-destination of Barbados, with St. Lucia thrown in for good measure (along with islands we've already visited included St. Thomas & St. Maartin). The other offer cruises the Mexican Riviera and leaves out of Los Angeles and includes Cabo, Puerta Vallarta and some other Mexican hotspots. Kenny leans towards the Los Angeles trip, he hates San Juan, but that has BARBADOS. I am having a hard time saying "no" to Barbados. I've put way too much thought into it this weekend. Timmy reminded us that the other option is to say no to both of them and stay our asses home for a change, seeing as we have Alaska on the horizon. That's always an option, I guess, but certainly doesn't sound nearly as much fun. Just in case we do decide to go, I hightailed my ass back to the gym this morning, for the first time in months. It was frightening, but I amazed myself by lasting 30 minutes/3 miles on the elliptical. I figured five minutes and I'd be nearly passed out. The body's more resilient that I thought, seeing as I've had rivers of eggnog coursing though my veins for the past two weeks.

Linda got everyone these blankets for Christmas. They snap and zip and do all sorts of things. Kenny said that blankets with sleeves have already been invented, they're called robes. Stanley looks like St. Francis.

The end. I have to go do more work.

Buttoned Up

We just got back from seeing The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Now, I'm not sure what I expected, I had considered not even seeing it on sheer principle as I have an unfavorable opinion about that cheater Brad Pitt. But my curiosity got the best of me since Kenny had seen twenty minutes of it and reported back that it looked good.

You can read all sorts of reviews about it, from the good to the Gump-like comparisons bad, but I put it in my Top 5 list. I cried throughout the whole movie, it was so emotionally charged. I'm not normally a "crier," but I have been known to well-up a time or two at the movies. This was out-of-control crying. I was a hotmess of messy mascara. I had to fumble in my purse for a cough drop just to give myself something else to focus on at some spots. I think it resonates more with those who have lived long enough to have experienced loss. I particularly love time movies, that reflect back on a life lived and this was a different than any other that I've seen.

I still need more time to digest it all and make my peace with it. If you can appreciate a movie for what it is - a vessel to entertain and suspend reality - I can't see how you could not appreciate this tale of love. I'm going to have to see it again, once I feel more composed about it.

On another movie note, we saw Slumdog Millionaire a few nights ago and up until I saw Button, it was my Top Pick of the Year. A more "flawless" presentation than Button, but I would still have to give my top pick to Benjamin Button. I'm drained from crying it out. I'm taking an Advil PM and starting anew tomorrow. Life isn't measured in minutes, but in moments.

Tongue Lashing

Girlie cleans the Baby Jesus, a.k.a. Swaddled Twinkle. Too cute! Melts a cat mama's heart.

Happy Birthday, Jesus!

Presents were wrapped and placed 'neath the tree, cookies were baked and visits are underway. It's Christmas!

Neither Kenny nor I were able to get each other what we wanted to this year, so since it's the thought that counts we just told each other what we were going to get - it was much cheaper that way! I was going to get him (and me) T-Mobile GPhones, but in addition to the steep price tags ($179 discounted price each), we would have had to pay an additional $50/month for Internet service. The phones don't work without the Internet service. That's on top of the service plan, and I just couldn't do it. That amounts to the price of a week-long cruise, just to surf the 'net on my phone, which I would never do. But the gift was a nice thought.

Kenny thought of getting me the diamond bezel for Rolex. I am excited to make her sparkle and bling even more. I have the diamonds in the numbers, but not around the face. I figured I would add that on later. Well, he tried to buy that piece for me (expensive, too - $800 and up depending on the amount of carats), but the snooty folks at Rolex informed him that my $7500 watch is actual a slumwatch in the world of Rolex - they don't make the bezel to go on it. It will fit, that's not the problem, but they are only "authorized" to go on the solid gold watches, which I of course do not own. That's crazy-expensive. So if he were to buy one anyway and have it installed elsewhere, it voids the warranty. Always some way to get ya. So he told me and got a kiss for the nice thought.

Our real gifts to each other were a CD (Britney for me) and a DVD (Batman for him). We each have one thing on order for each other that hasn't arrived yet. He ordered a watch winder online (it will keep my Rolex wound when I'm not wearing it) for me and his gift is still a surprise so I can't mention it here yet. It's good though. Kind of good. Thoughtful. Still being crafted, I waited too long to order it so they told me it wouldn't be here until a week or two after Christmas. Maybe next year I'll act sooner!

Sophie has once again decided not to go out for Christmas this year. She's not sick or anything, but told me last night she's just "tired of livin'". I guess I can understand that to some degree. Ninety-one years and you just might get sick of participating. But as there's not one thing wrong with her, looks like she's stuck living a while longer. I'm sure Christmas is pretty sucky for her anyway, seeing as my mom died the day after. It's always a struggle to put on a holly-jolly disposition and I'm sure she's just sick of trying. So she can stay home, I brought her blueberry jelly that she asked for and took her a hambone, you would have thought I handed her the Christmas star with that little bag of goodness.

Last night I wrapped Twinkle up in my new super-soft pink bathrobe (I had bought it as a gift for someone and decided to keep it) and reenacted the nativity scene with him swaddled up as Baby Jesus. If the rest of my life hasn't doomed me to hell, I'm sure that did. Happy Birthday, Jesus.

Oooh Oooh That Smell.

Irony: Using Victoria's Secret Very Sexy perfume in lieu of a shower today.

Deer In Headlights.

Food for party at Pete & Vera's = $102.00

Bluffing your way to a winning hand of Texas Hold 'Em = $40.00

Spilling food on your shirt, pants and floor at the end of the night = Priceless.

Tingles in the Nether-Regions

This is the reason I go through all that effort to put up my Christmas Tree. I made myself laugh at the "all that effort" part, but you get my drift. This is why I had Kenny carry the tree up from the basement, clean off the table, hang twelve bulbs and plug it in:

Notice how Twinkle uses his little paw as a pillow - it doesn't get any cuter than this! Except in person, then it's even cuter.

Throughout the cold and blowy Sunday he has just rearranged himself 'neath the tree, settling into a new nap. Not much different than what the Big Cats (me & Kenny) are doing today, except I adjust myself periodically in my most comfortable recliner and Kenny is in his spot on the couch. He's working off his drunkfest hangover today, but that's another blog.

It's now or never for filling out my Christmas cards, so I have finally gotten some of them done, ready for mailing in the morn. I am disappointed to discover that I did not create a database with all my addresses from prior years, so it's been catch-as-catch-can with it. I think I have them somewhere in the backroom, but that is really going to take a lot of effort to locate. I'll go give it a cursory glance this afternoon, see if I can find a few others.

There were a few roadblocks to Chrismas-Card-Sendery (I just made that up! It's my new thing, to make up words and/or phrases with the hopes to have them become commonplace and one day make it into Merriman-Websters). First, our (by "our" I mean my workplace) cards SUCK this year. I struggled to find something that I found appealing...which based on the shit I just threw out from my cube cleaning mission, I may have been looking for something in a stained doily format with a hen house and wooden sunflower....But I digress with self-mockery. I am a traditionalist, but not in the religious sense. I like Santas and Snowmen and glittery shiny cards. Not all graphic and trendy looking, either - I want the Norman Rockwell scene. It's the direct opposite of what my Christmas is anymore, so I guess I like to just depict a fantasy Christmas with my cards. I almost bought some from Paper Magic, but Kenny shamed me, and I finally found something suitable with a glittery friendly Santa. Not ideal, but suitable for sending.

Another challenge I wrestled with was determining whether to include a newsletter or not. I blog my life outloud, what more is there to say? I decided no one wants to read all about it, if they did they'd read this nonsense, so why junk up their mail with a letter all about my shenanigans. I did a vacation pictures collage for those who I know don't read the blog (aunts and uncles and such), they'll get that and get to drool with envy over my Fabulous Life. Isn't that the whole point - "Hey! Look HOW MUCH FUN I HAD!! How FANTASTIC my life has been!!" Well, maybe that's not the point, but I'm sure not going to send pictures where my clothes are too tight cause I ate too much this past year, had a stress-filled acne breakout and a DIY hair disaster, etc. Now that might make the best newsletter idea EVER. Recap some shittiness of the year, throw in a few made-up words, and give 'em a few pictures to mock which will make 'em feel better about themselves. "Well, Juliette, I know we didn't have the best year of our lives, but did you read about that Baldwin Girl's crap-ass year?? And look at the pictures, if you think she's kidding! At least we're not that bad off!" See how much people would enjoy that? And they do say it's better to give than to receive...

Despite these roadblocks, I will be sending out my cards. Gotta support the teams (my postal employee friends and my own bread & butter). Race to your mailboxes on Tuesday, there will be Joy and Glad Tidings inside.

It isn't just for breakfast anymore.

Tracye, 10:30 a.m. Saturday morn: "Tim, do you have any vodka?"
Tim: "Why don't you try using milk on your cereal for a change?"

Addendum 2.

You may be interested to know that almost everything was snapped up from the free table. The paper flower craft thing was looking sadly forsaken out there, so I threw it in the trash sometime around 2:00 p.m. Friday. The wooden sunflower and the doily were also tenaciously hanging around, but by the end of the day even they were gone. The stained doily found a new home. People WILL take anything. Before I left tonight I set out this ceramic angel thing where loose change was housed. I found a less 62-year-oldish dish to keep my change, and I feel better about things already.

Addendum.

Rob would like me to expound further on the comment in the previous post regarding his inability to read Cornplanters Chronicles. He would like my Faithful Reader to truly understand his "voracious reading habits" to fully communicate this painfully ill-written book. So here it is:

Perhaps you could insert something like this: “Not even Rob Murdoch could read it. And you should know that when Rob Murdoch eats Cheerios, he reads the entire box word for word, including ingredients and calories and the percentages with or without lowfat milk and he does this EVERY SINGLE TIME HE EATS A BOWL. That’s how bad this book is that he could’t even make it past page ten.”

Empty Nester

"You have a lot of stuff," Rita stated as she surveyed the eight boxes lying about my office as I prepare to switch cubicles Friday morning. With the restructure everyone is shifting around, and I am moving about five steps from my current office. I'm taking this opportunity as a chance to weed out a bunch of shit that's been following me around for, oh, say the last fifteen years or so. Some of it had a place on a shelf, but the majority of it was shoved in a drawer for the last three or four jobs. So I'm cleaning it out, and still had eight boxes of stuff to move after the weeding. Now, five are work-related, but that doesn't detract from the fact that I have three full boxes of personal shit.

So I gave Rita and Kelly full reign to go all Clean House on my ass. They made me dump a bunch of shit I'd found impossible to part with. Now, a week ago when I first started clearing things out I designated a table in the atrium as a "Free Stuff" table. One man's trash, another man's treasure and all that. It's been a good time watching some of this stuff get snapped up, and others in my area have followed suit. We were setting really absurd things out there, some of it a test to see just what people will really take if it's marked free. Some of the more interesting things have included:

• A can of Slimfast
• A yellow smiley-faced bean bag chair with an "X" of duct tape covering a hole (that was donated from Lauren's cube, not mine!)
• The WORST BOOK EVER, Cornplanters Chronicle - a book so bad that even Rob Murdoch couldn't read it. This was a pity-purchase I made one day while walking in the mall, the author was outside the bookstore selling signed copies and he had zero interest, so I bought a book. Now someone else gets to enjoy it, perhaps it will be gifted to some poor unsuspecting fool for Christmas.
• A Fat Fish Blue logo-ed hurricane glass. I found out today no one actually took that, Rita got sick of seeing it and threw it in the trash, she said it was dragging the table down.

So today, after my co-workers Clean Housed me, these items that I found it difficult to part with are now up for grabs:

I know, it's Treasure Overload. Items include: a paper flower someone made at least ten years ago, some stinky candles, a clock radio (it does work, but what the fuck do I need it for, I have an Ipod and reception is sketchy anyway), a variety of wooden bric-a-brack with a country flavor, a bird house/chicken coop caged thing of some sort (I have no idea), a tray and a Tupperware container of pennies that were just junking up my office space.

Rita commented, "If I were guessing the profile of the person who owned this table of stuff, I would say 62 year old female, 4 kids and 10 cats." Sadly, true. I'm a hotmess of collectibles. Rita did let me keep my Elvis knick-knacks, she said that while they're a little odd, they are a more truer reflection of me than the chicken coop wire birdhouse thing and the doilies. I'll be interested to see tomorrow how much of this shit is still sitting there. Oh, yeah, there was also a stained "doily" which I hesitated to put out there. Kelly informed me it will be the coup de gras of the free table if anyone takes that thing.

Kelly and Rita told me they were proud of me for letting go, and then Kelly gave me a Niecy Nash grunt of approval.

The End.

Twinkled

Everything of importance is in place for the holiday. Twink & Tree: Check.

To think, I was bemoaning the fact that I was too tired/too busy to make the effort to put up the tree. I realized Monday that Christmas is in fact NEXT WEEK (where have I been?? Oh, yeah - vacationing!), and it was time to git 'er done. Wow, that's hillbilly. But anyway, after clomping around and bitching about the effort involved, I realized it's a pre-lit tree, and in fact only needed to be put on the table and fluffed out a little. Voila, it's Christmas. I'm glad to know that I am in fact not that lazy - yet. I can still clear the table and plug the tree in. Twink was excited, as he is every year, and got right into the holly jolly spirit.

My careful planning for the holidays have once again ensured that Kenny's present won't be ready in time for The Day. Last year he got his custom-made jacket sometime in February. I have good intentions, but don't plan them far enough in advance to be effective. I have two ancillary gifts for him to open on The Day, and then he'll get to celebrate all over again once his big gift is ready. I seriously can't believe the world doesn't revolve around me and my needs. Don't they know who I am?!

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While waiting for the bedding to wash and dry this evening I took hair color matters into my own hands and am sad to say I'm not thrilled with the results. I have an appointment for tomorrow, but I Sophied-Up a little and didn't want to spend $120 right before the holidays for no haircut, no highlights, just some base color only. I can touch that right up myself for $11, in the comfort of my own home no less. Well, maybe next time I'll pay better attention to the box. It was for persons with very dark hair who want to lighten it up, and since my hair was already many shades lighter than the hair the product is intended for, it had some weird results. Not horrible, and I'm not even sure it's $100 worse, but not my ideal shade for this month. Luckily, I switch it up so much that in 4 to 6 short weeks I can try something else. Or before New Orleans. Whichever mood strikes me. Ah, hair. It's a love/hate affair.

Pants On Fire Part I

Seems I've become a bit of a liar. I wish I could deny it, but the facts stand in the way. I lie about the quantity of cats in the house. Depending upon who's asking, I lie about my name. The lies are off my tongue before I can stop 'em.

Episode 1:

AT&T Guy came to the house over the summer to fix our DSL. He's in our house. Two cats, Twink and Girlie, came sniffing around.
AT&T Guy asks, "How many cats do you have?"
I respond, "Two." Timmy got whiplash doing a double-take at the blatentness of the lie. I got the shoulder shrug and the mouthed "What the Fuck??" from him over that.

I had to come clean on that lie when the job took far, far longer than anticipated. AT&T Guy was in the house so long (over 2 hours, I believe) that the other cats got brave and started peeking out from around the corner. One by one they began to emerge from the deep recesses of the back bedroom from which they can be safe from Stranger Danger, and I knew the jig was up.

In a panic I blurted, "I LIED! I have FIVE cats, not TWO!" There was really no use lying, four cats were flanking his feet by that point.
Lesson Learned: Don't lie about the number of pets you have to someone who is spending time IN YOUR HOUSE.

Episode 2:

Wal*Mart Checker Dude inquired, "Do you have a lot of cats, or do they just poop a lot?" when I was stocking up on pet supplies last week.

"Four. Just four cats. Yes, they poop a lot." I denied one of the cats. But who is HE to get all into my cat ownership bidniz??

The conversation didn't end there. Woman In Line Behind Me said, "My neighbor, she's ka-razy! She has EIGHT CATS!" To which they guffawed and clucked about the absurdity of anyone having that many cats.

Lesson Learned: Sometimes it's okay to shave the truth. Just make sure they're not spending quality time in your home.

Kenny finds it absurd that I lie about the number of cats we have. But PEOPLE JUDGE. It's easier to lie sometimes than it is to be judged by strangers. Look at that poor unnamed woman with eight cats who was mocked and ridiculed by strangers in a Wal*Mart check out line. Does it get any worse than being judged by that crowd?? Jeez. I don't need that added pressure to my life.

Just today I was IMing with a co-worker who found out I have five cats, and she typed back, "You have FIVE cats??!!". Yes, yes I do. Now that the cat's out of the bag, and it's too late to lie.

Rubbed One Out

Lupe* Screwed Us. There's reason to believe that she stole my jar of 16 spice poultry rub which was purchased from Bobby Flay's Mesa Grill in Las Vegas. That, or ghosts follow me with the sole intent to play little jokes.

All I know for a fact is: 1/ I purchased two jars of 16 spice rub and one cookbook after dining at Mesa Grill in Las Vegas on Saturday. 2/ There were two jars in the bag when I left it on the table in my hotel room. 3/ There was one jar of 16 spice poultry rub and one cookbook in the bag when I packed to go home on Sunday. 4/ Lupe Screwed Us.

I saw her, said hello, and left her a tip on Saturday, with the intent to leave her more on Sunday. Plans changed after I realized Lupe Screwed Us. Kenny's not convinced she did, but I know what I know. Two jars of rub became one overnight, and only one other person was in the room (well, not counting the hookers....).

We didn't complain to the front desk, because I don't really want Lupe to have her job in question over a $10.76 jar of seasoning, but really. What's the point of that. I would think that we just misplaced it or something (it's been known to happen with me, I don't deny it!), but we weren't there long enough for anything to get misplaced. And I only took it out of the bag once, to try to read the ingredients. My old eyes, however, resist reading the fine print anymore. Guess they figure they've worked hard enough and just aren't straining themselves anymore.

So Lupe Screwed Us, but I think $10 was worth the laugh we had at the thought of our poultry rub getting stolen. Of all things lying about the room, for Chrissake. Better the rub than the Rolex. I wish Lupe and her family very flavorful meat this holiday season.

*Lupe: see Seinfeld Chambermaid episode

Eavesdroppings.

Overheard heading into the restroom at the movie theater:

50ish Woman to 50ish Man: "Do you have to use the bathroom?"
50ish Man: "No, I'm all set."
50ish Woman: "Are you sure?"

At what point do women think men are too stupid to even know if they have to take a piss or not? We're a bitchy lot to live with.

Not That There's Anything Wrong With That

Here I am, photographing exceedingly SHORT Friday night at our Scrooge's Night Out event. I had been explaining to Santa just how naughty I've been all year.

Lisa with her Dance Ticket:

Two of those Blue Rockets and we were doin' our thang out there on the dance floor. I thrilled the crowds with my Elaine-inspired dance moves. Kenny and Tim were impressed that I would actually do that in public - without the requisite dance tickets (5 dirty martini's) I usually require!

The night had many different elements of Seinfeld, here I am ensconced in my velvet dress. Yep, George's Dream, livin' out loud right here in Cleveland.

Note To Self: Two Fiber One bars the night of a party is a bad decision. I had pretty bad...er.....well, let's just say Kenny didn't sit close to me for long.

THIS GIRL had the best outfit of the evening:

I am gonna get me a Southern Belle gown and just keep it on hand for future Christmas party events. Right down to the little lace gloves and the jauntily-cocked hat. Who doesn't love a jaunty cock.

Pie Hole

A table for five apparently needs to include two kinds of turkey (one home-roasted, one Honeybaked), ham, apple sausages, stuffing, mashed potatoes, squash, yams, corn, beans and three types of cranberry dishes.

Good thing we didn't plan on cooking much this year. Thanksgiving was celebrated at Marge & Stanley's house, with just Linda and myself as additional company for the main meal schedule. Kenny had to work, so he joined us later in the evening for his holiday platter. Sophie was a tentative, and she balked at the last minute, she said she hadn't been feeling well. She spent the holiday alone again, in her little house, but at 91 I guess she can do what she wants. I'm done cajoling. I'm supposed to go out there this afternoon (her plan), but am going to decline. I don't feel like it today, I need a day to get things done (such as this very important time-spending activity).

Here's Linda with her Japanese Chin, Mickey. He's a pretty good boy, but doesn't really have much use for me. I'm okay with that.

He runs from Kenny, too, but Kenny will pursue him til capture, and then try and Dog Whisper him.

After a nice day spent visiting, eating and listening to some Christmas music, we ended the day on a pie note:

Apple-Carmel with butter-pecan ice cream and pumpkin with cool whip.

All-in-all, a nice quiet day spent together. As we were leaving Friday morning for Atlantic City, I didn't need a hopped-up holiday event. We took very little leftovers home with us since we weren't going to be around, and finished the evening up by packing for our trip. We had to get up at 6:30 a.m., which is fucked up. Who plans a trip that early on a holiday?? Well, we did it, but not without a fair share of complaints.

Our trip was fun, and I liked it even more since it was just one night. I like being home with a whole day to get caught-up before the start of another workweek. We gambled a lot and I was nearly broke by 3 p.m. on the first day. Things were looking downright grim. Ken and I went to the room and decided to take a nap. I needed a timeout from spending, as it wasn't really working out for me, and we were both tired from the early morning. So we napped and Ken headed back to the tables around 5:00 p.m., and I continued to nap until about 7:30. I wandered back downstairs then, with my lowly $40 in my pocket and $200 in pity-money from Kenny. He'd been doing pretty well at three-card poker, and while I don't mind sharing in winnings, pity-money leaves a sour taste in my mouth so I wasn't eager to spend it. I played some game with my $40, and managed to parlay it into $100. Then I joined Kenny at the card tables and finally caught a break, ending up with $750 back in my pocket and Kenny's $200 handed back to him. It was a good ending to the day! I didn't have to stay in the room on Saturday reading the 3rd book in the Twilight Series. I brought it with me, just in case.

Saturday ended up pretty good, not ahead, but we didn't get a total bad-beat. The money that came home with us will be traveling to Vegas in less than two weeks.

I've got some surprise shit to take care of today. Well, it was a surprise on Thursday night. When I went to pack for our trip, I looked in one of our bigger suitcases and discovered I haven't unpacked it since our cruise. What the fuck! I thought I was all caught up with every stitch of laundry last weekend, but there was a whole suitcase full of more stuff. Nothing I had apparently been missing, mostly warm-weather wear. But it still needs to get washed and folded and packed away for next year. Huh. I used to be so on top of laundry, I would unpack as soon as I got home from a trip, but that doesn't seem to be the case any longer.

I'm going to go do that as soon as I get done sitting in the recliner. That may take awhile...

Flying Fig

Harrah's Hotel in Atlantic City provides complimentary clarifying shampoo with extracts of wild fig & ivy. Not just any figs, but wild ones. What makes these figs so wild?? Have they appeared in Joe Francis videos? And why would I want to put that on my hair? I'm usually trying to tame my hair, not encourage wildness.

I tried it anyway. I went a little wild after. But I can't talk about it, 'cause what happens in Atlantic City, stays in Atlantic City. You'll have to go there and try the wild fig & ivy shampoo yourself.

Waste Not...

1.) I used the peeled onion that Sophie sent me home with last week. It did not go to waste, and was repurposed (isn't that the Go Green term of the month??) into Apple-Onion Bourbon Sauce.
2.) As mentioned above, the apples haven't been used yet in a pie, but some were used for sauce. Not a total waste.
3.) The cauliflower remains purposeless. It's still sitting forlornly in the refrigerate, anxious to see if it meets with the trash on Tuesday night, or if will have had a Purpose Driven Life.

Suck This

Maybe Fsteve was right. Perhaps adolescent-level reading IS my level. While it certainly wasn't dense, thought-provoking writing, I thoroughly enjoyed Twilight, and now have an unhealthy obsession with vampires. I just asked Kenny if we'd be visiting Denali while we're on our Alaska Adventure next year, as there is purportedly a coven of Vamps up there.

That writer was pretty clever. She ends the book with the beginning of the next book as a teaser. I could not get to sleep last night, replaying the cliffhanger scene in my mind, and anxious as to how they're going to get out of that mess. I have the next book at work, resting comfortably on a shelf, when it should be HERE, NOW so that I could be finding out just exactly how Edward saves Bella this time. I thought about going to work and getting it, but rationally reminded myself that I've got too many things to do today to get absorbed in that love story right now. But I did have to take some nighttime cold medicine in order to get to sleep last night, I was that charged up at 1 a.m.

I have had more get-up-and-go this weekend than I've had in a very long time. I don't know if I am correctly attributing it to these new vitamins I purchased Friday night at Wal*Mart, or if it's just that my hormones are on an even keel, or if perhaps I'm really Manic-Depressive like my sister, Britney Spears, and I'm on a "high." Whatever, I've been a whirling dervish around the house since I took that chromium Friday night with dinner. It's claim is to even out the blood sugars, giving more energy and a host of other promises. All I know for sure is that I busted my ass around the house Friday night, not heading to bed until 3:15 a.m. (granted, I had the book to keep me interested that late at night), and then Saturday Kenny and I embarked on another quest of Basement Cleaning. Jeezus Christ, we worked for five solid hours down there - and it's still a hotmess. I really need Neecy from Clean House to show up.

Anyway, back to the basement. Kenny and his business partner haven't been able to lock down a new office space so back home all his shit is coming. The people who owned the building sold it, and the guys have til December 1st to get their shit out. Well, they were told they could have part of the warehouse space until January 1st, but I advised Kenny to rethink leaving any of his stuff there on a promise. What if they just locked 'em out and took all their stuff? It's his livelihood, not a hobby, and he would be so fucked right in the ass if that happened. So yesterday he started hauling shit home, and the Basement Cleaning Project began in earnest.

The problem with the basement is this: We have so much stuff between the two of us, and a lot of it is a/ either too expensive to just toss out, even if we're not currently using it or b/ something we may want to use one day. So we've got an Ebay pile compiled, and will try to sell some of the stuff, and the other stuff we're trying to reorganize in an out-of-the-way place. And then the remainder is going on the trash pile. Fsteve, if you have any interest in some of your shit you may want to do a drive-by on Tuesday night. I mean, we have got DVD players, computers, scanners, printers, TVs (which won't work after February without the special converter box), clothing, tables, lamps, misc. kitchen gadgets, speakers - all sorts of stuff that we just have to make the decision to part with. I know we could donate it, but we need to get the space cleared this week. We're taking an afternoon break to blog and watch football, and will be heading back down for Round 2 later today.

The upside of spending so many hours in the basement was that I managed to get every stitch of laundry washed and folded. Towels, bedding, all sorts of piles of stuff that had just been sitting there, getting pushed aside in favor of clean undies and such. Another project, putting away all the cleaned laundry. I need a maid.

After all that cleaning, we showered and went out for some Mexican food and a margarita. The perfect end to a hard day's work.

It's been a busy Sunday morning (well, afternoon, but it's morning in my world), I've got a rigatoni/pepperoni casserole baking in the oven and I created a new dessert. It's a variation of tiramisu, but as I don't have marscapone cheese on hand, I used a pumpkin pudding mix instead. Mixed that with some cream cheese, added a little espresso and rum, soaked the lady fingers in a concoction of coffee and brandy, layered it all and topped it with cool whip. It's going to be a tastebud extravaganza this evening. Or it will all go in the trash.

We're heading into Thanksgiving Weekend, excited about that. Not sure what our plans are yet, we may be dining out somewhere. That's fine with me, it will be different, but could be nice with no mess to deal with. Kenny's working on Thanksgiving Day. I'm sure we'll see a movie that night, it's tradition. Last year I believe I saw Sweeney Todd. We head to Atlantic City Friday morning, a quick overnight junket. Always something fun to look forward to. Good thing, after this weekend of cleaning, clearing, hauling and packing.

Drafty Cracks

Old Man Winter, he don't play. He has rolled into town and whipped our asses. At least mine. I thought the little bit of snow and cold earlier in the week was just a little bit of messin' with ya, but nope - woke up Friday morning to Pure Winter Business. Fuck. I got reacquainted with scrapping snow off my car, cursing all the while. Going on four years of it, I should be used to it by now, but I don't think I will ever make my peace with snow up my snatch at 7:30 a.m.

On top of all that, I hadn't even saran-wrapped the windows yet - but I remified (a made-up word, that) the situation with an after-work trip to Wal*Mart where I purchased the weather stripping and plastic. I've been a busy mo'fucka all night. I wrapped up the two big pneumonia-holes in the living room so far, still have the bedrooms and kitchen to do, but I need to pace myself. I also assembled a lamp I purchased for the living room. I needed a floor lamp to go next to my new recliner so my 42-year-old eyes can have better lighting for ease of reading. Now that I've got the Best Chair Ever, I can actually sit in the living room and read. I'll be so much smarter as a result, I'm sure.

Now that I'm all set up for reading, I'm watching t.v. instead. But. It's that all-alluring, irresistable Supernanny Jo. I am attracted to her, moley face and all. I think she's losing weight. Her pants aren't up her ass the way they normally are. She's even more irresistible.

While at Wal*Mart, I purchased a new pillow for Kenny. He's had the worst pillow situation since I moved in and threw his pillow out when he wasn't paying attention. It just looked disturbing, it had seen better days, but he liked it. When did that ever matter, though. I thought I could sneak a new one in without him noticing. But I didn't, and for the last three years he's been pillow-uphappy, and we periodically try new ones for him. His last one cost $2.50. It lasted quite a while, but eventually did what all of his pillows do - assumed a sausage-like shape. I don't know what he does or how he sleeps, but they all become a humped up tube, all lumpy and uncomfortable. I ponied up and spend $20 for his new one, it has potential. I'd feel worse, but I bought us each new $90 Down pillows when I threw his other one out, and he just doesn't like it. It's the reason the cat has a $90 pillow to call his own at night. Someone might as well use it.

Alright, I'm off to give Supernanny my undivided attention. She beckons me.

Yeah, Right

Who am I kidding, I can't stop sharing the ridiculous parts of my life! But maybe I'll try to do more interesting things, to give this some substance. Maybe. Easy to say from the comfort of my recliner, which, by the way, has not been conducive to my Getting A Life. But that's for another day. I've got to go get to reading, Twilight awaits.

Same Hat....

....Different Year.


Reviewing my blog I realized that I blab about the same shit week in and week out: household organization issues, my Vaj, pooping, Sophie, cats and travel/trips. Jeez. I think I need to spend my time in more lucrative ways. I'm going nowhere fast at this pace.

So instead, rather than blogging about the mundane and often disturbing parts of my life, I'm going to try for something of a little more substance. Oh, I may post a funny little snippet of conversation here or there, but this weekly nonsense is at an end. Like Jack Bauer, I'm going Dark.

It wouldn't be a party...

....without the hat!

OH MEIN GOTT

When we ported in Labadee during the second week of our cruise last month, I was the only one in our party who wanted to get off the ship. Everyone else was happy to stay on board and enjoy the nearly-private pool amenities and such, but I wasn't done with blue waters and white sand. Even if I had just seen it the week before, as it was a double stop for us.

So I set off on my own and rented a floating beach mat, found my little spot in the shade for my things, and set to floating around the water and doing some serious people watching. I paid particular attention to a guy and a little boy, who bypassed me and were headed out to even deeper waters. I was already at a spot that was over my head, and the waters were rather rough due to the Hurricane that was passing thru San Juan. So it was choppy and deep and this little dude was swimming out past me. Well, after a few more minutes, the man sent the little boy back to shore by himself, and the man continued out further with his snorkel equipment. I could see the little fella dogpaddling like hell (he was a rather adept swimmer), and as he got closer to me I shoved my beach mat in his direction so he could grap onto the edge and rest a little bit.

He was happy about that and caught his breath for a few minutes and then we started chatting. I tried to talk to him, but found out he spoke German and didn't have much of an understanding of English. With the universal "thumbs up" sign, I was able to communicate that it was okay for him to stay on the mat if he wanted to and we bopped along in the water together for a while, each enjoying the swell of the waves with the security of a floater beneath us.

I started testing the waters of the language barrier and asked him how old he was, asking if he was 8 years old, pointing at him and holding up 8 fingers. He said, "Yes, I am 8 years old. How old are you?" I replied, "42" (I was already claiming 42 to get myself used to the number) and held up the corresponding fingers. A slight recoil and an exclamation of, "OH MEIN GOTT!" was the response. Yeah, Pal, that's my thought on it too. OH MEIN GOTT. He did proceed to expound on it with, "You say that "Oh My God" we say "Oh Mein Gott." Yeah, I Gott it. That exclamation needed no translation Little Buddy. He told me his mom was 29. Happy Birthday to me :) I'm officially 42. Well, in a few hours anyway. Oh Mein Gott.

The Barter System

I made a quick trip out to Sophie's today, to squeeze in a visit and deliver some bread I had picked up for her. She LOVES this bread I found at Sam's Club, it's an apple danish crumb bread, and it's so good she says she'd pay up to two dollars and fifty cents for it - it's that good. Now, it costs $3.88, but I won't burst her bubble with that - she wouldn't be able to enjoy it if she knew it was scaring four dollars. So here's what was swapped during the visit:

Tracye brought Sophie:

• 2 loaves apple danish bread
• 1 bottle Oil of Olay day cream
• 3 outdated magazines (Redbook, Oprah, Ladies Home Journal)

Sophie sent Tracye home with the following:

• Part of a head of cauliflower - enough to go with a hunk of some sorta meat we might have for dinner some night
• A handful of apples - make some apple sauce or maybe bake a pie, Dolly
• A peeled onion
• A bowl of homemade Haluska

Now, some people think Haluska is cabbage and noodles, but true Haluska is made with homemade potato dumplings, which is what Sophie whipped up. They truly are one of my favorite Polish/Hungarian dishes that Sophie makes.

I guess I'd better get ready to bake a pie. I can't let any of these things go to waste, I would be ashamed of myself. But I don't even like cauliflower. Not since The Cauliflower Incident of '93. Well, I'm making up the year on that, but it was during my vegetarian phase and I made a cauliflower sandwich (tasted as bad as it sounds), and I happened to catch the flu shortly after consuming. I haven't been able to get over the mental connection of cauliflower and barfing. Oh, for those who are interested, the cauliflower sandwich consisted of white bread, chopped up cauliflower and ranch dressing. Just thinking about it to this day makes my nose snarl. Maybe Kenny will eat it.

Tea-Bagged

I was making tea and used a Jasmine Ball that I had gotten from God-knows-where, and this is what emerged:


Lucky for me, this was what I had given to Kenny. I was using a simple chamomile bag for myself. He would have probably preferred being tea bagged too, although he'll never admit to it.

Nonsense

Still not up to par. Having a quieter weekend at home and unfortunately don't have the gumption to do what needs to be done. We did find the energy to put my new flannel sheet set on the bed Saturday and let me tell you, they were snugly and delicious on my achy body. Even Widda came up and made herself at home on Stanley's pillow which is at the top by my head. She didn't budge, not even when Stanley came up and asserted himself, pushing her over to make room for him. He ended up sleeping on her a little bit, and she didn't seem to mind. She was not getting off that flannel pillowcase. I would guess she spent twelve solid hours on that pillow. They're nice, but even I can't stay in bed twelve hours!

We did a little grocery shopping this morning, once I got some wind back beneath my sails. I have a pot roast simmering on the stove, chock full o' carrots, mushrooms, celery, potatoes and onions. Now I must rest again. I made myself a sore throat concoction that's been passed down a few generations. It's simple, but really does the trick. You roll a lemon around, getting it all soft and juicy, then cut a hole in the top (straw-sized) and pour in whiskey and honey, mixing it all up. Sip that concoction with a straw until nothing more is left, and let me tell you, it really does the trick.

So is this what the blogpost is coming down to this week??? Talk of a cat on a pillow and a sore throat remedy? That's just sad. I don't have much more than that, though. You're out of luck if you're looking to me for entertainment this week. Kenny and I went to Bassista and bought a new rocker recliner. I've had it with my living room chair, I've tried to adapt to it and has not cooperated. It looks inviting enough, but oh, no, it's just a trick. It's very puffy, and the back of the chair is so puffy, in fact, that it projects the head forward. After extended sitting (usually an hour of t.v.), my neck is stiff and cramped and I've got a headache in progress. Kenny's tried it, said the same thing. It's just horribly designed. Now, though, I know what to look for, and have tested many a chair before finally settling on a new one. This one will go to the other corner of the room where it can sit and watch me enjoying it's replacement. I'm going to flaunt my new love right in it's face. She gets delivered on Tuesday. I wish it were here yesterday. But that is pretty big news as I've been fighting what could be viewed as an unnecessary purchase. I finally proclaimed enough was enough. You only get so many chances with me before I stick you in a corner and set about ignoring you.

That's it. I'm going to bed to read a book. I need to finish The Poisonwood Bible so I can get into the Twilight series which is all the rage. I have a group of friends who are reading them and it would be fun to all get together and see the movie when it's out. But I need to read the book first.

I Don't Have Time For This

Feeling a little under the weather today. Was feeling spunkier earlier, but now not so much. Have a cuppa Theraflu, the kind for sore throats, and I'm hoping it lives up to it's promise. I don't really have time to be bedridden this weekend, I have many things I'd like to accomplish.

Just so you know.

And The Winner Is...

....ME! Yes, I am IRON CHEF AMERICAN GREETINGS, HALLOWEEN OCCASION. I took home the Silver Star for 1st Place Taste, as well as Honorable Mention for Most Unique Recipe.

The Secret Ingredients were: Apple & Pumpkin. I came up with an Apple Sausage with Apple & Onion Bourbon sauce, correctly assuming most people would contribute a sugary confection, and something to cut through all the sugar would reign victorious. I was correct. Plus, it was really fucking tasty stuff.

The Contenders were lined up in the atrium, left to the sampling and voting throughout the day. My sausages didn't last til noon.

Winners Circle Includes: Neil, Honorable Mention Taste (I voted for his cheesecake it was incredible!); Me - HM Unique Recipe, First Place Taste; Cindy, First Place Appearance (it was a beautifully crafted apple pie); Barb, First Place Unique Recipe (she created a pumpkin seed brittle); Tricia & Regan shared Honorable Mention for something. Huh, I guess that's not very gracious of me, to not even care enough about the others to pay attention. It was all about me.

Frankly, I don't know how any beat out this contribution from Ed:

Kenny will never believe me again when I tell him how hard I'm working.

Ruby, Are You Contemplating Going Out Somewhere

Mug Shot of a Jovial Blow-Up Doll:

For the first time in a million years, I participated in costume-required Halloween parties. Not just one, oh, no - we went all-out and attended two dress-up parties, first Friday night, then again on Saturday. The costume that I ordered hadn't arrived by Thursday, so I ran to the store and had to pull together an outfit from whatever was left. I decided on a "Hippie Peacenic." It was that, a slut-o'-ween outfit, which I'm not built for, a Nun (which I am built for, but I was afraid I would go up in flames while wearing), or this. So this won.

Upon review, I realized a few things.

1/In case you haven't noticed, my tits are GIGANTIC. They are officially "Juggs."

2/I look frightening similar to Linda Hogan.

3/I resemble a blow-up doll. Or maybe they resemble me! I have the wrong pose here to know for sure, I need the gape-mouth to really do a fair comparison.

We stayed at the party for a few hours, then headed out to Characters to meet a few other friends and have a beer closer to home. It was a fun Friday night.

As if there was any doubt to what Kenny would be, here he is in all his Indiana Jones glory. He felt very daring and fearless with a whip by his side. Twinkle, however, did NOT care for his costumed character one bit, and would hiss and run as soon as Indy donned his hat. He didn't much care for the blow-up doll/Linda Hogan look, either, he wasn't a fan of the wig. He apparently has hat/fake hair issues.

Katie, one of the party hostesses, was a gypsy. My outfit also failed to give me a waist, as the big puffy sleeves blended right in to everything else. It had nothing to do with the Snickers bars that were consumed.

My original costume idea finally showed up on Saturday (what timing!). Well, it's just a good thing I guess that we had another party to go to, which seemed weird to go to knowing that it was November. I'm telling you, once November hits and Halloween is officially over, it is one holiday that is just DONE - it feels wrong to drag it out even one day longer. But we did, we didn't poop on the party.

So Cleopatra came to life.

And I realized three new things:

1/ If I ever think to myself, "Huh, maybe I should dye my hair black and cut it really short!" - I need to rethink that idea.

2/ I bear a resemblance to Delta Burke and/or Liz Taylor in the Downslide Years.

3/ This wig must have been modeled after Mancy, who actually pays to get this look. I at least wear it with better makeup.

The cats still weren't thrilled with Costumed Characters, but Cleo had to have a cat with her. Here, Widda is captured in Mid-Meep, you can see her little opened cat-mouth:

Twink was less than thrilled about a Cleopatra smoochie, but at least he wasn't hissing, although he does look poised to chomp:

I did a pretty good job on all that makeup. I had planned to get it professionally crafted at the MAC counter, but then came to my senses, I don't need to spend $50 for costume makeup. Years of partying in the 80's equipped me to wield liquid eyeliner and blue eyeshadow like a pro.

Indy and his whip-crackin' lived for one more day:

Like a house of Scrooges (mixing holidays here), we passed out zero candy this year. It's the first time since I've been home that I haven't participated in the Halloween trick-or-treatery. I was busy costuming up, and I only half-assidly (I am making up new words all over the place!) purchased treats, so we said, "Fuck It" and didn't turn the porch light on. And it was all okay anyway.

Vacation Randoms

Well, Hello There! Allow me to take you on an informal, random tour of some of our Vacation Moments. Buckle up - the ride could get bumpy. Er, nevermind. I won't post the pictures that I took which violated Beth & Rob's camera....here's the normal stuff. Now. Eyes down below, and off my massive rack.

Setting off on vacation. I think I ~ rather frighteningly ~ look like Kathy Griffin in this picture. Maybe it's the bangs. Kenny didn't seem to mind, he said he'd fuck Kathy Griffin. He wouldn't talk to her, he finds her annoying, but he thinks she's hot enough to grace with his penis. Lucky Kathy. Lucky me ~insert dry sarcasm here~.

See. I kind of enjoyed the stingray thing. As long as they weren't around me.... We loved Beth & Rob's camera!

Look how tan Ken is - he's practically a bronzed God!

Our travelling companion, The Bouk, and his laminated Master Budget:

St. Maarten, no nudies were noted, but we did have beers and bbq:

Fondling an Ass:

Remember that time I bought a Cowgirl Hat, and you all laughed and laughed and I said screw you, I can Pull. It. Off. Well, in your FACE, Doubters. I have PULLED. IT. OFF. All over the Caribbean.








So suck it.


Here is a half-assed picture of our travelling friends, The Big Bouk Family: Seated from left: half of Kenny, Mike (married into the Bouk family), New Baby Lia (sitting in a high chair, you can't see her but her spirit is there), Kathy (The Bouk's sister), Lynn (sister to the Bouk), Vaso (Mama Bouk, who looks and sounds JUST LIKE Sophia from The Golden Girls), The Bouk Himself, or Father Bouk as he likes to be called, Lia (Bouk Baby) with her head turned, and half of Doreece, The Bouk's patient and loving wife.

Here is a cool picture of St. Maartin at night, using the night function of the camera. It had been storming when we were leaving the island. It was a dark and stormy night.....




I want to go back.