for those of you who may still be on Marriage Problems 3.0, allow me to come right out and talk about how great my marriage has become. i realized when i was talking to Mama B a few weeks ago... that she had no clue that we even HAD problems.... and that makes me think that some of you may still think that we are struggling.
yes, i have dropped hints about how things have gotten better, but let me proclaim to the world that things here are "Back To Normal"
after a lot of pain, tears, raised voices, silence, and resentment, and apologies, i can finally say that we have come through the worst of it and have made it back to good. if not better.
we are happy again in our marriage. something that neither of us has experienced in over a year. and it is AWESOME.
i mean, how nice is it that my husband and i can't sit within 3 feet of each other and NOT be touching?
how nice is it to be excited when he comes home, and i actually get a small case of butterflies each day before i wake him up?
how cool is it to look at him with a contented look on his face and KNOW i put it there?
how great is it that for once,we don't dread the time we have together and we don't look for other things to fill it?
how amazing is it that we COMMUNICATE with each other?
how awesome is it that we have feelings towards each other and they aren't ANGER or INDIFFERENCE?
we have gotten back to that cute couple that makes you want to vomit if you spend any length of time with them. (i kinda like that)
and sure, we had a HARD road. and we had some HUGE obstacles... and we had to hit ROCK BOTTOM and do some serious re-evaluating... but hey, baby, look at us now.
so i want to thank EVERYONE for what they did for us, whether it was support, or understanding, or listening, or hugging, or just being there for us. i know some people played weird roles in helping us see what we were fighting for. and if it weren't for those people, we might never have realized that things were really as bad as they were and we BOTH needed a swift kick in the ass.
like the saying goes, you don't know what you have until you lose it (or almost lose it)
so, this is my announcement that the bad times are over... and happily ever after is STILL a reality.
Monday, May 30, 2005
Thursday, May 26, 2005
my name is KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIID!
in honor of Allie's recent good fortune, and at Tasty's insistence, i have been requested to reprint a story from June 6th 2004.
Husband and i went to the Kid Rock concert and the following is my very NON-PC account of the night.
if you are NOT offended by those words, then read on, cause love, i gots a story to tell.
holy jeebus. i KNEW that the Kid Rock concert was going to have some rednecks there. and i am fully aware that i live IN the SOUTH. but its times like this that reaffirm my faith in education, medical assistance, proper diet, and knowing When to say NO.
like No to:
with that being said, lets begin our journey...
Husband and i looked great. we didn't want to stand out, but we sure as shit didn't want to "blend in" i looked like my usual rock star self, and he looked like "yes, i can wear a hawaiian shirt and not be hawaiian or gay"
i had to go to the bathroom as soon as we got there. when i came out, Husband said, "i do believe i have seen every stereotype here." i got scared, but decided to overcome my fears with a little game. i said, "how bout we play 'Count the Confederate Flags? Or maybe the Mullets"? he said we should count the ones missing teeth instead. i said, "i cant count that high" and it was true. we saw the girls dressed in the short skirts with the black vinyl knee boots, the 40 year old women who figure if they can stuff their flat square ass in a size 6 jeans, then why cant they wear the low cut shirt to accentuate their saggy boobs? we saw the sorta well dressed to the "i just woke up in the side of the road cause i been drivin.... fer days.... to see..... KID!"
ok ok ok... we got to our seats and began to play my ALL TIME FAVORITE GAME, People Watching and Their Lives, as told by Us. i swear this is the BEST GAME EVER and you can play it anywhere. it doesn't have any parts to lose or choke on. wanna play?
so we see the family of 4 coming down the steps.
mother: age late 30's, bleached blonde, permed hair. with bangs. tight jeans, t-shirt.
next is junior: age 7, wearing wife beater, black baggy jeans, blonde hair, beginner mullet, black Kid Rock style hat and a cane.
daughter: age 14? maybe? (they don't make em the same way they did when i was 14) wearing a red tight mid-riff bearing t-shirt with black playboy bunny on it, short black skirt, scraggy dirty blonde hair, trucker cap, red, with black playboy bunny airbrushed on it. and i think platform flip flops. too much makeup.
and dear old dad: late 30's early 40's, blonde hair, mullet, permed, very tan, white t-shirt with the arms cut off so if he stands sideways you can look between his beer gut and his shirt through the other side, tight jeans, and molester moustache.
we have the setting... now the game. i said to Husband, "here comes the Smith Family, but what Mrs Smith doesnt know is Dad sneaks into Little Suzies room at night. Good thing they put that trailer on blocks 3 years ago, otherwise Mrs Smith would have known what was going on when the Trailer started Rockin and Mr Smith was nowhere to be found." Husband laughs, but later says when Mr Smith and Suzie to the concession stand, "maybe he didn't get enough before they left, he's gotta tag her in the mens room." but when Mr Smith comes back later, with beers and no Suzie, and Suzie comes down later with 2 drinks and popcorn, Husband says "i bet it cost her a Blowie for the corn."
*****yes, we are hateful, mean-spirited people. we know that. but i warned you*****
thus the game. you pick your mark, and try to deduce their lives outside of the situation in which you find them, in the first place. you know, like the cute couple who walks down the street holding hands, but the way he has her hand held, you can tell he beats her when he gets home. you know what im talking about. it just takes time to figure this shit out. its all mannerisms and surroundings. i mean come on... look at a Trekkie and tell me you havent made up a story about what he does to his Captain Kirk Pillow at night.
see. i told you. you already know how to play the game.
(WARNING: once you start playing it, you will find yourself playing it at the most inopportune times.)
oh right, we were at a concert. i'm sorry. shall we talk about the drunk guy who walked around the lower bowl with his shirt off carrying a beer and trying to make sure all women fell in love with him ON THE SPOT when he tried to moon each of them? or maybe we should talk about his friend who had to accompany him to keep him on task of "going back to our seats, man" but would hold his beer everytime Moony needed to undo his belt? perhaps you would like to hear about the Twinkie Sisters? the ones who weighed 350+ and wore clothes that i wouldn't paint my house in? whatever happened to getting dressed for an event? i know KR's "platform" is being an all american bad-ass, but damn, have some fucking concern for your appearance.
we had all manner of folks wearing the KR concert shirt they bought 20 minutes ago. and those wearing the shirt from previous concerts. as Jeremy Piven said in PCU, "don't be THAT guy. don't be the guy who wears the shirt for the concert he is going to see." for shits sake, WE know you went to a KR concert, we are right next to you smelling your stale smoke, beer breath. wear it on tuesday to show all your buddies that you "were there" and tell them how you hit on the dancing cage girls. they don't know its not the truth. WE know the truth is, you could barely stand up for the opening band.
okokok blah blah people. Concert, right? ok. Puddle of MUDD opens. that drummer can fuckin PLAY. 4 guys in the band. all of them look younger than me. the shit that killed me, was here is this guy, onstage, playing guitar, screaming lyrics into a microphone for thousands, can hardly even SEE the crowd and throws a guitar pick into a group to his right and THEY FREAK! he throws several more throughout the show and at one point, is facing a crowd to his left, and does the "chin lift wassup move" and about 100 people go crazy. as if he directed it to any single person. that's when i realized i really need to be a Rock Star and have THAT kind of power. DAMN. but they rocked.
and then KR. the show was full of pyrotechnics, loud explosions, fire works, and confetti. it was a HELL of a show. the concert was just ok. but the show was good. at one point he sings some redneck song and down drops this HUGE confederate flag at the back of the stage. as it unfurls, the crowd goes wild and i feel like i am at a Nazi Rally. Husband said it was more like a Clan rally. either way, it was freaky. they say the "South will rise again." if this is the south they are talking about... i am 1) fucking terrified and 2) moving AWAY. far far away. i hear costa rica is nice.
to the girl who sat in front of me and smoked and talked on the phone all night: Kid Rock did NOT put on a show in your living room. you paid good money, now get the fuck offa the phone.
to the guy behind us who spilled beer on Husband all night: do you remember the concert at ALL?
to the guy with the cut off sweatshirt that was "off the shoulder" at one point: oh mickey you're so fine you're so fine you blow my mind hey mickey!
and to the outspoken guy behind us: HELL MUTHER FUCKIN YEAH!
when "Woo-Hoo" just won't do.
Husband and i went to the Kid Rock concert and the following is my very NON-PC account of the night.
let me just give the disclaimer now. if you are easily offended by the terms:
- redneck
- incest
- molester
- inbred
- lazy fuck
if you are NOT offended by those words, then read on, cause love, i gots a story to tell.
holy jeebus. i KNEW that the Kid Rock concert was going to have some rednecks there. and i am fully aware that i live IN the SOUTH. but its times like this that reaffirm my faith in education, medical assistance, proper diet, and knowing When to say NO.
like No to:
- Drugs
- Mullets
- Fried Twinkies
- Your Horny Cousin
- Bleached Blonde Hair
- Making your Clothes Better With the Aid of Scissors
- and The Bartender
with that being said, lets begin our journey...
Husband and i looked great. we didn't want to stand out, but we sure as shit didn't want to "blend in" i looked like my usual rock star self, and he looked like "yes, i can wear a hawaiian shirt and not be hawaiian or gay"
i had to go to the bathroom as soon as we got there. when i came out, Husband said, "i do believe i have seen every stereotype here." i got scared, but decided to overcome my fears with a little game. i said, "how bout we play 'Count the Confederate Flags? Or maybe the Mullets"? he said we should count the ones missing teeth instead. i said, "i cant count that high" and it was true. we saw the girls dressed in the short skirts with the black vinyl knee boots, the 40 year old women who figure if they can stuff their flat square ass in a size 6 jeans, then why cant they wear the low cut shirt to accentuate their saggy boobs? we saw the sorta well dressed to the "i just woke up in the side of the road cause i been drivin.... fer days.... to see..... KID!"
ok ok ok... we got to our seats and began to play my ALL TIME FAVORITE GAME, People Watching and Their Lives, as told by Us. i swear this is the BEST GAME EVER and you can play it anywhere. it doesn't have any parts to lose or choke on. wanna play?
so we see the family of 4 coming down the steps.
mother: age late 30's, bleached blonde, permed hair. with bangs. tight jeans, t-shirt.
next is junior: age 7, wearing wife beater, black baggy jeans, blonde hair, beginner mullet, black Kid Rock style hat and a cane.
daughter: age 14? maybe? (they don't make em the same way they did when i was 14) wearing a red tight mid-riff bearing t-shirt with black playboy bunny on it, short black skirt, scraggy dirty blonde hair, trucker cap, red, with black playboy bunny airbrushed on it. and i think platform flip flops. too much makeup.
and dear old dad: late 30's early 40's, blonde hair, mullet, permed, very tan, white t-shirt with the arms cut off so if he stands sideways you can look between his beer gut and his shirt through the other side, tight jeans, and molester moustache.
we have the setting... now the game. i said to Husband, "here comes the Smith Family, but what Mrs Smith doesnt know is Dad sneaks into Little Suzies room at night. Good thing they put that trailer on blocks 3 years ago, otherwise Mrs Smith would have known what was going on when the Trailer started Rockin and Mr Smith was nowhere to be found." Husband laughs, but later says when Mr Smith and Suzie to the concession stand, "maybe he didn't get enough before they left, he's gotta tag her in the mens room." but when Mr Smith comes back later, with beers and no Suzie, and Suzie comes down later with 2 drinks and popcorn, Husband says "i bet it cost her a Blowie for the corn."
*****yes, we are hateful, mean-spirited people. we know that. but i warned you*****
thus the game. you pick your mark, and try to deduce their lives outside of the situation in which you find them, in the first place. you know, like the cute couple who walks down the street holding hands, but the way he has her hand held, you can tell he beats her when he gets home. you know what im talking about. it just takes time to figure this shit out. its all mannerisms and surroundings. i mean come on... look at a Trekkie and tell me you havent made up a story about what he does to his Captain Kirk Pillow at night.
see. i told you. you already know how to play the game.
(WARNING: once you start playing it, you will find yourself playing it at the most inopportune times.)
oh right, we were at a concert. i'm sorry. shall we talk about the drunk guy who walked around the lower bowl with his shirt off carrying a beer and trying to make sure all women fell in love with him ON THE SPOT when he tried to moon each of them? or maybe we should talk about his friend who had to accompany him to keep him on task of "going back to our seats, man" but would hold his beer everytime Moony needed to undo his belt? perhaps you would like to hear about the Twinkie Sisters? the ones who weighed 350+ and wore clothes that i wouldn't paint my house in? whatever happened to getting dressed for an event? i know KR's "platform" is being an all american bad-ass, but damn, have some fucking concern for your appearance.
we had all manner of folks wearing the KR concert shirt they bought 20 minutes ago. and those wearing the shirt from previous concerts. as Jeremy Piven said in PCU, "don't be THAT guy. don't be the guy who wears the shirt for the concert he is going to see." for shits sake, WE know you went to a KR concert, we are right next to you smelling your stale smoke, beer breath. wear it on tuesday to show all your buddies that you "were there" and tell them how you hit on the dancing cage girls. they don't know its not the truth. WE know the truth is, you could barely stand up for the opening band.
okokok blah blah people. Concert, right? ok. Puddle of MUDD opens. that drummer can fuckin PLAY. 4 guys in the band. all of them look younger than me. the shit that killed me, was here is this guy, onstage, playing guitar, screaming lyrics into a microphone for thousands, can hardly even SEE the crowd and throws a guitar pick into a group to his right and THEY FREAK! he throws several more throughout the show and at one point, is facing a crowd to his left, and does the "chin lift wassup move" and about 100 people go crazy. as if he directed it to any single person. that's when i realized i really need to be a Rock Star and have THAT kind of power. DAMN. but they rocked.
and then KR. the show was full of pyrotechnics, loud explosions, fire works, and confetti. it was a HELL of a show. the concert was just ok. but the show was good. at one point he sings some redneck song and down drops this HUGE confederate flag at the back of the stage. as it unfurls, the crowd goes wild and i feel like i am at a Nazi Rally. Husband said it was more like a Clan rally. either way, it was freaky. they say the "South will rise again." if this is the south they are talking about... i am 1) fucking terrified and 2) moving AWAY. far far away. i hear costa rica is nice.
to the girl who sat in front of me and smoked and talked on the phone all night: Kid Rock did NOT put on a show in your living room. you paid good money, now get the fuck offa the phone.
to the guy behind us who spilled beer on Husband all night: do you remember the concert at ALL?
to the guy with the cut off sweatshirt that was "off the shoulder" at one point: oh mickey you're so fine you're so fine you blow my mind hey mickey!
and to the outspoken guy behind us: HELL MUTHER FUCKIN YEAH!
when "Woo-Hoo" just won't do.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
heiroglyphics
this is my next tattoo.
as in, if i have Husband's backing, i will get it Saturday.
wanna know what it is? and why?
its a nine-pointed star.
it's symbolic of The Numbers.
a little history:
Allie, Lola and i are the Triplets. otherwise known as the 3's.
we incorporated Mary and Tasty into our little group as numbers 4 and 5 respectively.
when we were all in GA for the Numbers Summit we talked about getting a tattoo that was important for the 5 of us. and we tinkered with ideas all morning long... and decided on something about a 9 because 3 x 3 = 4 + 5. so we picked the design out of one of Allie's books. and then never were able to get it. and then several months later, i found the design at the top of the page and the hunt was over.
well, Lola and Tasty are going to be in GA this weekend at Allie's (yeah, you have NO idea how sick i am that i'm not there) and those bitches are getting their tattoos. so, this morning i figured, since i just painted MY toes purple, like i know everyone else's are, i may as well get the tattoo too. (or at least plant the seed in H's head)
so. i hope to have a new tattoo this weekend. which brings me to my point about hieroglyphics. my first tattoo was a celtic trinity, my second tattoo was the chinese symbol for 'rabbit', my third tattoo is the gaelic word for 'knowledge' and now my fourth tattoo will be a nine-pointed star. could i BE more obscure? none of the typical zodiac symbols, of butterflies, or tribal shit.. no no, i have shit i have to explain. i am so unique. oh, and i look like a fucking pyramid wall! such a rockstar!
and now for a little education:
The Nine-Pointed Star
It is the Triple Triad - Completion; fulfillment; attainment; beginning and the end; the whole number; a celestial and angelic number - the Earthly Paradise.
Nine is symbolized by the two triangles which are a symbol of male, fire, mountain and female, water, cave principles.
Cultural References
Buddhist tradition holds nine to be the supreme spiritual power, and a celestial number.
Celtic legend symbolizes nine as a highly significant number. It is a central number with the eight directions with the center making nine. The Triple Goddesses are thrice three. There are nine Celtic maidens and nine white stones that symbolize the nine virgins attendant on Bridgit. Nine is connected with the Beltane Fire rites which are attended by 81( 8+ 1= 9) men, nine at a time.
Chinese: Nine is qa celestial power. It is 3x3 being the most auspicious of all the numbers. Nine also signifies the eight directions with the center as the ninth point known as the Hall of Light. There are nine great social laws and classes of officials. In land divisions for Feng Shui there are eight exterior squares for cultivation of the land by holders and the central, and ninth, square is a "god's acre", dedicated to Shang-ti, the supreme ruler. It is also known as the Emperor's Field, giving homage and respect denoting the position of heavenly power.
Christian: Nine is one of the numbers that appears scantly in Christian symbolism. There are the triple triads of choirs of angels and nine spheres and nine rings around hell.
Egyptian mythology nine represents The Ennead.
Graeco-Roman: There are nine Gods and later nine muses.
Hebrew: Nine is pure intelligence ( eight was perfect intellingence ). Also represents truth, since it reproduces itself when multiplied.
Kabbalism nine symbolizes foundation.
Hindu: Nine is the number of Agni, fire. The square of the nine forms the mandala of eighty-one squares and leads to, and encloses the Universe.
Mayan: There are nine underworlds each ruled by a God. We find this reference to "nine underworlds" present in many cultures and beliefs.
Pythagorean: The nine is the limit of all numbers, all others existing and coming from the same. ie: 0 to 9 is all one needs to make up an infinite amount of numbers.
Scandinavian: Odin/Woden hung for nine days and nights on the Yggdrasil to win the secrets of wisdom for humankind. Skeldi, the northern Persephone, the goddess of snow, lives in her mountain for three months and by Niord's sea for nine months. Nine is the sacred number in Scandinavian-Teutonic symbolism.
also it's considered The Fruit of the Spirit
which is symbolic of these nine things:
* love* joy* peace* patience* kindness* goodness* faithfulness* gentleness* self-control
not a bad concept, huh?
Monday, May 23, 2005
latin lesson
i have a wee bit of a silly side.
oh, who am i kidding, honey? it spans from the freckle on my bottom lip all the way down to my old broken toe. (no, its not a new break, it just never got fixed) yeah yeah, i know enough with the analogies....
what im TRYING to say, is i'm silly. and funny. a who-lotta both. not to toot my own horn.... (again, who am i kidding?) BUT.... here is a story for the archives.
yestiddy, Husband and i had a nice lazy scantly-clad day. partially because it was about 12 kamillion degrees in here... and partly because he has a nice ass. trust me.
and once we finally got out of bed and relocated to the sofa... we continued watching baseball. i mean, DUR, it's INNER LEAGUE PLAY! so.... our boys (the Reds for those of you NOT playing the home game) were sucking ass. like giant hairy heffalump ass. through a straw. and not a bendy straw either... that would have at least suggested fun being had.
and there was this play that got called wrong... or someone missed a catch... or something. and i called the player a "Fuck Monkey"
and H's head slowly turned as he looked at me with a giant question mark above his head and said, "A.... Fuck..... Monkey?????"
"yep. Fuck Monkey."
"let me get this right, a FUCK MONKEY?"
"yeah, Fuck Monkey. not quite a Poo Flinger."
"now, Fuck Monkey, is that the TECHNICAL term?"
oh no. the technical term would be.....
PRIMATUS FORNICATUS!
dur."
at which point he totally lost it. he just laughed and shook his head and said, "unbelievable how you just come up with shit like that" and laughed some more.
even later on, during the game, he would look over at me and let out a little laugh or two.
i love making him laugh. its just goodness.
so i called allie later that night and related the story to her... and H could actually hear the howls of laughter THROUGH the phone.
so, we decided that will be the name of our band...
no, we dont really have one. but if we did... it would be called PRIMATUS FORNICATUS. kinda catchy, no?
oh, who am i kidding, honey? it spans from the freckle on my bottom lip all the way down to my old broken toe. (no, its not a new break, it just never got fixed) yeah yeah, i know enough with the analogies....
what im TRYING to say, is i'm silly. and funny. a who-lotta both. not to toot my own horn.... (again, who am i kidding?) BUT.... here is a story for the archives.
yestiddy, Husband and i had a nice lazy scantly-clad day. partially because it was about 12 kamillion degrees in here... and partly because he has a nice ass. trust me.
and once we finally got out of bed and relocated to the sofa... we continued watching baseball. i mean, DUR, it's INNER LEAGUE PLAY! so.... our boys (the Reds for those of you NOT playing the home game) were sucking ass. like giant hairy heffalump ass. through a straw. and not a bendy straw either... that would have at least suggested fun being had.
and there was this play that got called wrong... or someone missed a catch... or something. and i called the player a "Fuck Monkey"
and H's head slowly turned as he looked at me with a giant question mark above his head and said, "A.... Fuck..... Monkey?????"
"yep. Fuck Monkey."
"let me get this right, a FUCK MONKEY?"
"yeah, Fuck Monkey. not quite a Poo Flinger."
"now, Fuck Monkey, is that the TECHNICAL term?"
oh no. the technical term would be.....
PRIMATUS FORNICATUS!
dur."
at which point he totally lost it. he just laughed and shook his head and said, "unbelievable how you just come up with shit like that" and laughed some more.
even later on, during the game, he would look over at me and let out a little laugh or two.
i love making him laugh. its just goodness.
*************************************************
so i called allie later that night and related the story to her... and H could actually hear the howls of laughter THROUGH the phone.
so, we decided that will be the name of our band...
no, we dont really have one. but if we did... it would be called PRIMATUS FORNICATUS. kinda catchy, no?
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
sappy... oh, and a story about the mom.
sent to me this morning by my mom:
TO THE WONDERFUL WOMEN IN MY CIRCLE
When I was little, I used to believe in the concept of one best friend, and then I started to become a woman.
And then I found out that if you allow your heart to open up, God would show you the best in many friends.
One friend is needed when you're going through things with your significant other.
Another friend is needed when you're going through things with your mom.
Another when you want to shop, share, heal, hurt, joke, or just be.
One friend will say let's pray together, another let's cry together, another let's fight together, another let's walk away together.
One friend will meet your spiritual need, another your shoe fetish, another your love for movies, another will be with you in your season of confusion, another will be your clarifier, another the wind beneath your wings.
But whatever their assignment in your life, on whatever the occasion, on whatever the day, or wherever you need them to meet you with their gym shoes on and hair pulled back, or to hold you back from making a complete fool of yourself ... those are your best friends.
It may all be wrapped up in one woman, but for many it's wrapped up in several... one from 7th grade, one from high school, several from the college years, a couple from old jobs, several from church, on some days your mother, on some days your neighbor, on others your sisters, and on some days your daughters....or it may be some of the new people you just met!
So whether they've been there 20 minutes or 20 years, be thankful for the women in your life who make a difference.
and speaking of my mom... i realized i hadn't posted about her visit. DUR!
she got in on monday, we came back to the Itty Bitty Living Space and dropped off her bags, then headed off on BBQ Hunt Day 1. i took her to Dyer's, which was the first BBQ place where i ate when i got here, perhaps you remember THIS story? i mean, those sinks alone are worth going for. we ate and laughed and i still couldn't believe that she was here. i kept pinching her to make sure she was real. i bet she had 50 bruises when she left. we left there and went on a plant hunt. i had decided that i want plants here and i am NOT going to kill them. yes, i was the girl who couldn't keep aloe vera alive. shut it.
so we bought plants and came home and commenced with the drinkin. her with her pink wine.. and me with my beers. it was HAPPINESS! meanwhile, it was sweltering in the IBLS so i turned on the "air conditioner" and then we heard a voice. it was the kid from across the courtyard, on a ladder, under my window, trying to fix the a/c. bless his heart, we scared the shit out of him. so, we sat and talked while he dinked with the A/C, now, lovingly renamed "The Swamp Cooler" because all it does is blow semi cold air at loud and high speeds into the living room. but it works. so we chatted and drank and laughed and i pinched and we had a great time. the next morning i was off work so got our asses in gear and went shopping some more... and then met Husband for lunch at the mexican place that has the "best chile rellenos". that's what momma wanted, that's what momma will get.... too bad once we got there, we found out they had NO smoking section, AND they don't serve margaritas. oooooh, did she let him have it for that! once she forgave him, they talked golf and i drank beers. we left there and came home and mom took a nap ON the FLOOR, right in front of the Swamp Cooler. could we have been more low-rent? after her nap, she informed me that it was TIME FOR MARGARITAS! yes ma'am. will do. so we sat and drank margaritas and talked and talked and cried and talked and made mexican cornbread and talked some more. then went to bed exhausted.
i had to go to work the next day, so mom loaded her spades game on the computer and i left her here with her cards. when i got home, she was STILL IN HER JAMMIES, STILL PLAYING CARDS!!!! this is the woman who yelled at me when we bought a new computer game a month ago. hello, Pot, i'd like you to meet Kettle! once i finally got her motivated to put on some clothes..... we went for lunch at BBQ place #2. we heard Country Barn had good BBQ, so we gave it a shot. the inside was VERY cheesy with elvis and marilyn and old cars on for decoration, but the trip to the bathroom was fun... the whole restaraunt is very dark, and the door to the bathroom looks like a barn door, but once you open that door... it was wall to wall ceiling to floor 3 inch wide beveled mirror "paneling" even the door to the bathrooms were mirrored. i thought for a minute i had entered a portal to Las Vegas! the 3986 million images of me made our way to the ladies room where inside there was ALL black with TEXAS SHAPED SINKS!!!!!! again, with the yay! now that i know they are in more than one place, i am SO getting one installed in our house when we build. if H has a problem with it, he can kiss my native ass.
but back to the the story... the bathroom was worth the trip (side story: when my brother ian was little, he would have to go check out the bathroom no matter where we went.... we would joke about it, when he would just get up in the middle of eating to go see them. i think that quality in me was dormant) but the food SUCKED BUTT. capital S ... capital B. we left there and went shopping SOME MORE, hello, we're girls. its what we do.
we came home and watched movies... err, I watched movies, MOM played cards. i even made a comment about "this is quality time? we could do this at YOUR house!!!!" and right about that time, i got ganged up on by both her and H saying, "you don't have to always be DOING something together for quality time" yeah yeah yeah... shut it.
around 11 that night, we made the obligatory whataburger run. you have to. it ain't texas, if you don't.
we got up the next morning and Cranky Husband took us to breakfast at Jerry's. its a hole in the wall-middle of downtown-drive too fast and you'll miss it place. but they have these BRISKET BREAKFAST BURRITOS. (i have to write it big to express to you the sheer SIZE of these monsters) picture a dinner plate sized tortilla STUFFED with brisket, eggs, hashbrowns and cheese. add to that ho-made salsa... and ascend directly to heaven.
mom finally got good BBQ... now i could put her on a plane with a clear conscience. H went back home for more sleep (he needed it) and we took off for the airport. we goofed off there for a while... even managed to get a little but more shipping in... and then we said our "see you in two weeks" (it makes it easier to handle if its in 2 week increments) and off she went.
i hope to get back to SC in september... and see the rest of my family. but i miss her. and that's part of the reason i drug my feet on writing this... if i wrote it, it would mean she was really not here anymore.
so, momma, i love you and will see you in 2 weeks.
to the rest of the girls in my life, i am so eternally grateful to have you. i love you all.
TO THE WONDERFUL WOMEN IN MY CIRCLE
When I was little, I used to believe in the concept of one best friend, and then I started to become a woman.
And then I found out that if you allow your heart to open up, God would show you the best in many friends.
One friend is needed when you're going through things with your significant other.
Another friend is needed when you're going through things with your mom.
Another when you want to shop, share, heal, hurt, joke, or just be.
One friend will say let's pray together, another let's cry together, another let's fight together, another let's walk away together.
One friend will meet your spiritual need, another your shoe fetish, another your love for movies, another will be with you in your season of confusion, another will be your clarifier, another the wind beneath your wings.
But whatever their assignment in your life, on whatever the occasion, on whatever the day, or wherever you need them to meet you with their gym shoes on and hair pulled back, or to hold you back from making a complete fool of yourself ... those are your best friends.
It may all be wrapped up in one woman, but for many it's wrapped up in several... one from 7th grade, one from high school, several from the college years, a couple from old jobs, several from church, on some days your mother, on some days your neighbor, on others your sisters, and on some days your daughters....or it may be some of the new people you just met!
So whether they've been there 20 minutes or 20 years, be thankful for the women in your life who make a difference.
and speaking of my mom... i realized i hadn't posted about her visit. DUR!
she got in on monday, we came back to the Itty Bitty Living Space and dropped off her bags, then headed off on BBQ Hunt Day 1. i took her to Dyer's, which was the first BBQ place where i ate when i got here, perhaps you remember THIS story? i mean, those sinks alone are worth going for. we ate and laughed and i still couldn't believe that she was here. i kept pinching her to make sure she was real. i bet she had 50 bruises when she left. we left there and went on a plant hunt. i had decided that i want plants here and i am NOT going to kill them. yes, i was the girl who couldn't keep aloe vera alive. shut it.
so we bought plants and came home and commenced with the drinkin. her with her pink wine.. and me with my beers. it was HAPPINESS! meanwhile, it was sweltering in the IBLS so i turned on the "air conditioner" and then we heard a voice. it was the kid from across the courtyard, on a ladder, under my window, trying to fix the a/c. bless his heart, we scared the shit out of him. so, we sat and talked while he dinked with the A/C, now, lovingly renamed "The Swamp Cooler" because all it does is blow semi cold air at loud and high speeds into the living room. but it works. so we chatted and drank and laughed and i pinched and we had a great time. the next morning i was off work so got our asses in gear and went shopping some more... and then met Husband for lunch at the mexican place that has the "best chile rellenos". that's what momma wanted, that's what momma will get.... too bad once we got there, we found out they had NO smoking section, AND they don't serve margaritas. oooooh, did she let him have it for that! once she forgave him, they talked golf and i drank beers. we left there and came home and mom took a nap ON the FLOOR, right in front of the Swamp Cooler. could we have been more low-rent? after her nap, she informed me that it was TIME FOR MARGARITAS! yes ma'am. will do. so we sat and drank margaritas and talked and talked and cried and talked and made mexican cornbread and talked some more. then went to bed exhausted.
i had to go to work the next day, so mom loaded her spades game on the computer and i left her here with her cards. when i got home, she was STILL IN HER JAMMIES, STILL PLAYING CARDS!!!! this is the woman who yelled at me when we bought a new computer game a month ago. hello, Pot, i'd like you to meet Kettle! once i finally got her motivated to put on some clothes..... we went for lunch at BBQ place #2. we heard Country Barn had good BBQ, so we gave it a shot. the inside was VERY cheesy with elvis and marilyn and old cars on for decoration, but the trip to the bathroom was fun... the whole restaraunt is very dark, and the door to the bathroom looks like a barn door, but once you open that door... it was wall to wall ceiling to floor 3 inch wide beveled mirror "paneling" even the door to the bathrooms were mirrored. i thought for a minute i had entered a portal to Las Vegas! the 3986 million images of me made our way to the ladies room where inside there was ALL black with TEXAS SHAPED SINKS!!!!!! again, with the yay! now that i know they are in more than one place, i am SO getting one installed in our house when we build. if H has a problem with it, he can kiss my native ass.
but back to the the story... the bathroom was worth the trip (side story: when my brother ian was little, he would have to go check out the bathroom no matter where we went.... we would joke about it, when he would just get up in the middle of eating to go see them. i think that quality in me was dormant) but the food SUCKED BUTT. capital S ... capital B. we left there and went shopping SOME MORE, hello, we're girls. its what we do.
we came home and watched movies... err, I watched movies, MOM played cards. i even made a comment about "this is quality time? we could do this at YOUR house!!!!" and right about that time, i got ganged up on by both her and H saying, "you don't have to always be DOING something together for quality time" yeah yeah yeah... shut it.
around 11 that night, we made the obligatory whataburger run. you have to. it ain't texas, if you don't.
we got up the next morning and Cranky Husband took us to breakfast at Jerry's. its a hole in the wall-middle of downtown-drive too fast and you'll miss it place. but they have these BRISKET BREAKFAST BURRITOS. (i have to write it big to express to you the sheer SIZE of these monsters) picture a dinner plate sized tortilla STUFFED with brisket, eggs, hashbrowns and cheese. add to that ho-made salsa... and ascend directly to heaven.
mom finally got good BBQ... now i could put her on a plane with a clear conscience. H went back home for more sleep (he needed it) and we took off for the airport. we goofed off there for a while... even managed to get a little but more shipping in... and then we said our "see you in two weeks" (it makes it easier to handle if its in 2 week increments) and off she went.
i hope to get back to SC in september... and see the rest of my family. but i miss her. and that's part of the reason i drug my feet on writing this... if i wrote it, it would mean she was really not here anymore.
so, momma, i love you and will see you in 2 weeks.
to the rest of the girls in my life, i am so eternally grateful to have you. i love you all.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
dad is great.. he gave us chocolate cake....
yes, i am a coffee snob. and have been in the coffee business for 10 years. COMMA but...... my first love is baking. (they kinda go hand in hand, no?)
j'adore baking.
i was the girl who used to go "visit" a blue KitchenAid mixer at Best Buy. when Husband and i found ourselves there, i would go see it... and touch it lovingly on its shiny parts.... and stroke the sparkly blue exterior and whisper to it, "some day soon, momma will come to take you home"
so, this december, our little blue mixer will be 4. in honor of the day, i will bake a cake! tee hee.
i find baking very therapeutic. when my life is all chaotic... i find solace in measuring and scooping and using EXACT measurements to achieve something that is not only art, but i can eat it too. it brings order to the craziness.
or, i just bake because it's a monday.
i got a wild hair. no, scratch that. i got inspired on sunday when Husband and i went to The Big Texan for lunch. as we were walking to our table, we saw the "dessert table" that was groaning from the sheer weight of some of these monstrosities. they even had a very large chocolate cake... at the sight of which, H says, "now THAT'S a chocolate cake" i said, "no dear, that's an OTTOMAN!" and it really was almost as big as one.
well, after we ate, we considered taking a slab of it home. and i told H i would much rather MAKE him a cake. (see, i have this new silicone fancy bundt pan i wanted to try out.... you can guess where this is going, right?)
and so i asked him what kind of cake he wanted... and he was trying to get all fancy with german chocolate icing... or "something with cream cheese" and i had to tell him that you "DO NOT frost bundt cakes" which we renamed "swing-away cakes" in honor of it being baseball season and all.
but i digress.....
last night, i got the fixings for my Now Famous Chocolate FUCK ME Cake. so named, because "Better Than Sex Cake" is SOOOOOOOOOO overused... and its so good, you actually might want to get intimately involved with it. and the bake-r usually gets "rewarded" for it. and that's also why it's not Chocolate FUCK YOU Cake.
its oh so easy. ready?
ingredients for the cake:
j'adore baking.
i was the girl who used to go "visit" a blue KitchenAid mixer at Best Buy. when Husband and i found ourselves there, i would go see it... and touch it lovingly on its shiny parts.... and stroke the sparkly blue exterior and whisper to it, "some day soon, momma will come to take you home"
so, this december, our little blue mixer will be 4. in honor of the day, i will bake a cake! tee hee.
i find baking very therapeutic. when my life is all chaotic... i find solace in measuring and scooping and using EXACT measurements to achieve something that is not only art, but i can eat it too. it brings order to the craziness.
or, i just bake because it's a monday.
i got a wild hair. no, scratch that. i got inspired on sunday when Husband and i went to The Big Texan for lunch. as we were walking to our table, we saw the "dessert table" that was groaning from the sheer weight of some of these monstrosities. they even had a very large chocolate cake... at the sight of which, H says, "now THAT'S a chocolate cake" i said, "no dear, that's an OTTOMAN!" and it really was almost as big as one.
well, after we ate, we considered taking a slab of it home. and i told H i would much rather MAKE him a cake. (see, i have this new silicone fancy bundt pan i wanted to try out.... you can guess where this is going, right?)
and so i asked him what kind of cake he wanted... and he was trying to get all fancy with german chocolate icing... or "something with cream cheese" and i had to tell him that you "DO NOT frost bundt cakes" which we renamed "swing-away cakes" in honor of it being baseball season and all.
but i digress.....
last night, i got the fixings for my Now Famous Chocolate FUCK ME Cake. so named, because "Better Than Sex Cake" is SOOOOOOOOOO overused... and its so good, you actually might want to get intimately involved with it. and the bake-r usually gets "rewarded" for it. and that's also why it's not Chocolate FUCK YOU Cake.
its oh so easy. ready?
ingredients for the cake:
- one box of devil's food cake (COME ON.... i said it was EASY)
- one box of instant chocolate fudge pudding mix
- one 6 oz bag of nestle semi-sweet chips
- and all the stuff that goes into making the cake.. oil.. eggs....BUT instead of water, use brewed coffee. you have to do this first.. and then set it in the fridge to cool.
ingredients for the fudgy ganache icing:
- 12 oz of nestle semi-sweet baking bars (6 of the wrapped squares)
- heavy whipping cream
- honey
to make the cake:
- grease and flour (instead of flour, use cocoa powder) a bundt pan. (i have the cathedral one... what a BITCH to wash)
- mix cake according to directions, remember to substitute the water for coffee
- after it is blended, mix in the pudding powder
- add the chocolate chips, stirring carefully so you don't break them
- pour into the pan.
- it may take longer than the box says to bake... just watch it.
- once it's baked, let it cool for about 20 minutes IN the pan. then flip it out onto whatever you are going to serve it on and let it cool for about 45 more minutes.
to make the ganache icing:
- in a double boiler, melt the squares about halfway, then add 1/4 cup of heavy cream and 1 tablespoon of honey (this makes it shiny) and then finish melting. it may look lumpy and weird, just keep stirring it till its shiny and smooth.
- pour/drizzle over the cake
- serve naked, because it saves time, and because you are about to be REWARDED!!!!
because as they say, a way to a man's heart is through his stomach,
or if you are more realistic, its through his ribcage with a short stabbing motion. but only use this technique if the cake doesn't get you laid.
Saturday, May 14, 2005
DQ
a little background info:
last saturday, Husband and i went out for what we thought was going to be a fancy dinner. and by "fancy" i mean, “does not come in a paper sack”
so we got all cleaned up and headed out the door to a place i heard had good burgers. and we assumed that this place was the kind where someone waits on us. well, it wasn’t ... AND we were WAY TOO cute for this place, but we ate anyway. and while we were eating, H says, “since this was a bust, you owe me fancy dessert”
ok. i can do that.
but then we decided that we would have “fancy dessert” the next day when we went to a better fancy place for dinner.
so we decided on Dairy Queen for ice cream. it went with the theme of a lame dinner.
we got to DQ and saw that the line was really long, so we decided to just go inside. well as soon as we got out, i realized i left my purse at the non-fancy burger establishment. back in the car, go get my purse. and as we get closer back to DQ i say, well maybe the line will be shorter this time.
yeah, it was longer.
so in we headed.
and this was where our night got surreal.
we approached the counter and there were about 5 employees wandering around. one was sweeping, one was going back and forth to the kitchen, and who knows what the others were really doing, all we knew was they were doing a damn fine job of NOT HELPING US.
(forgive me if it sounds like i am judgmental or mean…. i am STILL angry about the whole thing.)
one girl with WAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY too much blue eyeliner and bad blonde hair told the girl who was sweeping, to help us. now sweeping girl had eyes that are SO far apart, that i think they were actually considered ears at this point. AND had on the thick glasses that made her eye/ears look about as big around as golfballs.
dig that one for a hot second.
so, Fish Girl looked at us, with disgust…. and S L O W L Y made her way over to the register.
Husband: “hi there, how are you tonight?”
FG: *grumble* “fine” *grumble*
and then she turned around and walked away to put her broom up and came back, reluctantly
Husband: “we’ll have a chocolate dipped cone and a chocolate blah blah utopia”
FG: * heavy sigh* (and not even SLIGHTLY under her breath) “i don’t even want to do this” (as she looked around to find someone else to do her VERY tedious task of DOING HER JOB!!!)
H and i looked at each other as if to say, “oh HELL no, she did NOT just say that, did she?”
i think she called EyeLiner over to relieve her so she could get back to doing a shitty half-assed job of sweeping
H then told EL that we “would like to have a chocolate dipped cone and a chocolate blah blah utopia”
she looked like she knew what she was doing, repeated the order back to us, and then stared at the register / thing where all you have to do is match the words you heard with the words/pictures on the touch pad and said, “hmmm… now where is that?”
OH, COME ON!!!
she pushed some buttons, told us our total, and took his card to swipe…. and then came back and handed him his receipt and handed him his dipped cone and then walked off.
and then finds the kid with the tongue problem and tells him to make our order, because she “is going on break”
you mean to tell me that you cannot wait one more minute to FINISH waiting on some customers?????????
she then walked back into the kitchen and we saw her flirting with the fucking cooks.
you mean to tell me that she cant make MY fucking ice cream because she has to go flirt with the COOKS?????
SOMEONE fucking shoot me.
she then came BACK out of the kitchen, with her belly all hanging over her pants and asked the “manager” to ring her up for cheese fries.
H said, quietly, and snidely to me, “ummm, sweetie, I really don’t think you NEED them, do you?”
meanwhile, he was eating his dipped cone. we were STILL waiting for MY ice cream and the woman behind us was getting her order of 2 dipped cones. simple enough, right?
these were the saddest dipped cones in the history of dipped cones. one was about 6 inches tall and really skinny and pointy. it was a feat in gravity. the other one was about 3 inches high, pouring over the sides and dripping chocolate. i guess they had tested gravity too much with the first one and didn't want to take anymore chances.
DO NOT, i repeat, DO NOT hand someone something that is supposed to be identical…. and ISNT.
have you no pride???
H looked at me with disbelief, and said, “did you see that?” and we just stared and could only say, “WOW!”
REALLY? REALLY? you REALLY handed those to a customer and expected them to be ok with that??
well, the woman took them. we wouldn’t have. but at this point, i was willing to take anything, because i was STILL waiting for my ice cream.
and we watched FG attempt to sweep. we watched EL try to run game. we watched Tongue Boy try to figure out how to make my order as we watched him do nothing else, but wipe up the counter. oh, and hang his tongue out of his mouth.
at this point, the cooks had gotten involved in the amazement that it’s taking this long to get ICE CREAM. one of them even said to the other, “look, that guy's almost finished with HIS ice cream” as even THEY stared in bewilderment at the ineptitude flowing forth from the "front of the house"
FINALLY, i had enough. i was RAGINGLY hormonal…. and the only thing i wanted was some fucking ice cream. well the ice cream was just the transportation for the chocolate that was hopefully going to bring me ONE minute of satisfaction against the tides of estrogen.
we went BACK up to the counter…. and i asked "what’s taking so long?"
someone said "they are trying to figure out HOW to make it."
WHAT?
did you just say HOW?
so i said, “you know what, i’ll just take a brownie batter blizzard, if they DON’T know how to make the thing i ordered”. that’s when either TB or the manager said, “we are out of brownie bits”
i said, “then WHY DIDN’T ANYONE SAY SOMETHING???????? we have been standing here waiting for nearly 10 minutes, my husband is almost FINISHED with HIS ice cream.....(deep breath)... you know what, i’ll just take my money back, and we will be on our way.”
manager girl says, “well i can still try to make it for you but without the brownie in it”
at this point, i was no longer responsible for what came out of my mouth. i looked her straight in her eyes and said,
“THEN YOU ARENT EXACTLY MAKING ME WHAT I ORDERED, THEN ARE YOU??????”
husband gently took my arm and sweetly said in a don't-make-any-sudden-moves-and-you-might-still-keep-your-kneecaps kind of way, “baby, why don’t you go to the car”
I wasn’t going anywhere!
the “manager” gave us back our money. And then, DID NOT apologize.
So as we walked out the door, i threw back, “SO SORRY ABOUT YOUR INCONVENIENCE!!!” and we left.
and we were just shocked. it would have been fine if it had JUST been one or two of the things that happened…. but the fact that it was SUCH a crazy chain of events.
so, as we drove to Sonic, we replayed it. and STILL could not believe it.
needless to say, i will be writing a letter to the manager of that store, and OH YEAH I will be sending a copy of it to the Corporate Office as well.
i hope SOMETHING comes good comes out of this; i would hate to impose a DAIRY QUEEN ban too.
even husband said, “don’t tell me we have to boycott DQ, like Domino’s now, too.”
we shall see, my love…. we shall see.
last saturday, Husband and i went out for what we thought was going to be a fancy dinner. and by "fancy" i mean, “does not come in a paper sack”
so we got all cleaned up and headed out the door to a place i heard had good burgers. and we assumed that this place was the kind where someone waits on us. well, it wasn’t ... AND we were WAY TOO cute for this place, but we ate anyway. and while we were eating, H says, “since this was a bust, you owe me fancy dessert”
ok. i can do that.
but then we decided that we would have “fancy dessert” the next day when we went to a better fancy place for dinner.
so we decided on Dairy Queen for ice cream. it went with the theme of a lame dinner.
we got to DQ and saw that the line was really long, so we decided to just go inside. well as soon as we got out, i realized i left my purse at the non-fancy burger establishment. back in the car, go get my purse. and as we get closer back to DQ i say, well maybe the line will be shorter this time.
yeah, it was longer.
so in we headed.
and this was where our night got surreal.
we approached the counter and there were about 5 employees wandering around. one was sweeping, one was going back and forth to the kitchen, and who knows what the others were really doing, all we knew was they were doing a damn fine job of NOT HELPING US.
(forgive me if it sounds like i am judgmental or mean…. i am STILL angry about the whole thing.)
one girl with WAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY too much blue eyeliner and bad blonde hair told the girl who was sweeping, to help us. now sweeping girl had eyes that are SO far apart, that i think they were actually considered ears at this point. AND had on the thick glasses that made her eye/ears look about as big around as golfballs.
dig that one for a hot second.
so, Fish Girl looked at us, with disgust…. and S L O W L Y made her way over to the register.
Husband: “hi there, how are you tonight?”
FG: *grumble* “fine” *grumble*
and then she turned around and walked away to put her broom up and came back, reluctantly
Husband: “we’ll have a chocolate dipped cone and a chocolate blah blah utopia”
FG: * heavy sigh* (and not even SLIGHTLY under her breath) “i don’t even want to do this” (as she looked around to find someone else to do her VERY tedious task of DOING HER JOB!!!)
H and i looked at each other as if to say, “oh HELL no, she did NOT just say that, did she?”
i think she called EyeLiner over to relieve her so she could get back to doing a shitty half-assed job of sweeping
H then told EL that we “would like to have a chocolate dipped cone and a chocolate blah blah utopia”
she looked like she knew what she was doing, repeated the order back to us, and then stared at the register / thing where all you have to do is match the words you heard with the words/pictures on the touch pad and said, “hmmm… now where is that?”
OH, COME ON!!!
she pushed some buttons, told us our total, and took his card to swipe…. and then came back and handed him his receipt and handed him his dipped cone and then walked off.
and then finds the kid with the tongue problem and tells him to make our order, because she “is going on break”
you mean to tell me that you cannot wait one more minute to FINISH waiting on some customers?????????
she then walked back into the kitchen and we saw her flirting with the fucking cooks.
you mean to tell me that she cant make MY fucking ice cream because she has to go flirt with the COOKS?????
SOMEONE fucking shoot me.
she then came BACK out of the kitchen, with her belly all hanging over her pants and asked the “manager” to ring her up for cheese fries.
H said, quietly, and snidely to me, “ummm, sweetie, I really don’t think you NEED them, do you?”
meanwhile, he was eating his dipped cone. we were STILL waiting for MY ice cream and the woman behind us was getting her order of 2 dipped cones. simple enough, right?
these were the saddest dipped cones in the history of dipped cones. one was about 6 inches tall and really skinny and pointy. it was a feat in gravity. the other one was about 3 inches high, pouring over the sides and dripping chocolate. i guess they had tested gravity too much with the first one and didn't want to take anymore chances.
DO NOT, i repeat, DO NOT hand someone something that is supposed to be identical…. and ISNT.
have you no pride???
H looked at me with disbelief, and said, “did you see that?” and we just stared and could only say, “WOW!”
REALLY? REALLY? you REALLY handed those to a customer and expected them to be ok with that??
well, the woman took them. we wouldn’t have. but at this point, i was willing to take anything, because i was STILL waiting for my ice cream.
and we watched FG attempt to sweep. we watched EL try to run game. we watched Tongue Boy try to figure out how to make my order as we watched him do nothing else, but wipe up the counter. oh, and hang his tongue out of his mouth.
at this point, the cooks had gotten involved in the amazement that it’s taking this long to get ICE CREAM. one of them even said to the other, “look, that guy's almost finished with HIS ice cream” as even THEY stared in bewilderment at the ineptitude flowing forth from the "front of the house"
FINALLY, i had enough. i was RAGINGLY hormonal…. and the only thing i wanted was some fucking ice cream. well the ice cream was just the transportation for the chocolate that was hopefully going to bring me ONE minute of satisfaction against the tides of estrogen.
we went BACK up to the counter…. and i asked "what’s taking so long?"
someone said "they are trying to figure out HOW to make it."
WHAT?
did you just say HOW?
so i said, “you know what, i’ll just take a brownie batter blizzard, if they DON’T know how to make the thing i ordered”. that’s when either TB or the manager said, “we are out of brownie bits”
i said, “then WHY DIDN’T ANYONE SAY SOMETHING???????? we have been standing here waiting for nearly 10 minutes, my husband is almost FINISHED with HIS ice cream.....(deep breath)... you know what, i’ll just take my money back, and we will be on our way.”
manager girl says, “well i can still try to make it for you but without the brownie in it”
at this point, i was no longer responsible for what came out of my mouth. i looked her straight in her eyes and said,
“THEN YOU ARENT EXACTLY MAKING ME WHAT I ORDERED, THEN ARE YOU??????”
husband gently took my arm and sweetly said in a don't-make-any-sudden-moves-and-you-might-still-keep-your-kneecaps kind of way, “baby, why don’t you go to the car”
I wasn’t going anywhere!
the “manager” gave us back our money. And then, DID NOT apologize.
So as we walked out the door, i threw back, “SO SORRY ABOUT YOUR INCONVENIENCE!!!” and we left.
and we were just shocked. it would have been fine if it had JUST been one or two of the things that happened…. but the fact that it was SUCH a crazy chain of events.
so, as we drove to Sonic, we replayed it. and STILL could not believe it.
needless to say, i will be writing a letter to the manager of that store, and OH YEAH I will be sending a copy of it to the Corporate Office as well.
i hope SOMETHING comes good comes out of this; i would hate to impose a DAIRY QUEEN ban too.
even husband said, “don’t tell me we have to boycott DQ, like Domino’s now, too.”
we shall see, my love…. we shall see.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
of books and maps....
you know what happens when i am left to my own devices in the HTML world?
i end up putting weird shit on my blog.
if you will look to the right, you will see a little button that says, Sign my Guestbook and if you click on it, you can leave me cool little notes. kinda like comments, but i/you dont have to go back through all the posts to read them. AND since i KNOW i have lots of visitors to my site, who never comment, maybe they will be more willing to sign my guestbook.
AND....
under the Dancing Monkey (also on the right) there is a new button that says VIEW MY GUESTMAP. its a kickass new thing where you can let me know where friends and visitors are from.
how much do I rock, NOW???
so, sign the thing... and then poke me.... err, i mean poke my map.
i end up putting weird shit on my blog.
if you will look to the right, you will see a little button that says, Sign my Guestbook and if you click on it, you can leave me cool little notes. kinda like comments, but i/you dont have to go back through all the posts to read them. AND since i KNOW i have lots of visitors to my site, who never comment, maybe they will be more willing to sign my guestbook.
AND....
under the Dancing Monkey (also on the right) there is a new button that says VIEW MY GUESTMAP. its a kickass new thing where you can let me know where friends and visitors are from.
how much do I rock, NOW???
good thing texas is so big, i bet i get LOTS of folks from here. i bet they look for "BITCHES FROM AMARILLO WHO ROCK SO HARD THEY COULD ONLY LIVE IN TEXAS". (i'm sure that was an ACTUAL google search) and they find me. i mean DUR, i'm THAT cool.
so, sign the thing... and then poke me.... err, i mean poke my map.
Monday, May 09, 2005
brought to you by the letter C
today's blog will be random... so try to keep up.
NUMBER 1: my mommie will be here in T minus 3 hours. i am so excited i am like a dog waiting to go outside!
NUMBER two: i got juju for allie... not knowin why, but i do. why don't you send her some, too?
NUMBER 3: i am D-U-N with work today. how nice is that????
NUMBER four: it's already getting hot here. i mean, we JUST had snow a week ago. oh, and have i mentioned our LACK of air conditioner? fuck the sauna, come to our house!
NUMBER 5: our house is CLEAN!!!! not only because mom is coming, but just because i needed to do some purging. there are times when i feel all ucky thinking about the last people who lived here. not like they were dirty or anything,. i just get a vibe... and i am one sage stick short of smudging this place to get out all the evil spirits too. i mean, i know why i get this way... its partly the germ thing... and partly just hating thinking about people who were here BEFORE me. and their essence? spirit? aura? hell, i don't know... but i feel it here. well, FELT it here... this house has been PURGED of all things prior to my arrival! so, to the previous tenant(s), YOU HAVE BEEN PURGED!!!! seek shelter elsewhere. no more weird stain on the oven... no more crappy shelf liner.... its just me and my Husband and all our lovin in here now. a love nest, if you will. a clean, shiny, love nest.
NUMBER six: mom and i are going to eat SOOOOOOOOOOOOO much barbeque while she's here... we might even TURN INTO briskets our ownselves.
NUMBER 7: Husband has started playing golf again.... he is really excited about it. he did really great on his first day back. this really means a lot to him, considering that he is so great at EVER SINGLE OTHER SPORT HE ATTEMPTS!!!!!! and golf is the one that gives him the most trouble. he hates that he isn't a natural at it, like everything else. hell, i bet he could kick all of our asses at Curling, but golf.... its a battle. but he'll master it. i have faith. now if only he would quit swinging his driver like a baseball bat.
NUMBER eight: anybody have a good cheesecake recipe? italian style preferred.
NUMBER 9: ONLY 23 MORE SHOPPING DAYS UNTIL ALLIE's BIRTHDAY!
and finally
NUMBER ten: will someone teach the REDS how to play baseball, again? because i think they are broken.
NUMBER 1: my mommie will be here in T minus 3 hours. i am so excited i am like a dog waiting to go outside!
NUMBER two: i got juju for allie... not knowin why, but i do. why don't you send her some, too?
NUMBER 3: i am D-U-N with work today. how nice is that????
NUMBER four: it's already getting hot here. i mean, we JUST had snow a week ago. oh, and have i mentioned our LACK of air conditioner? fuck the sauna, come to our house!
NUMBER 5: our house is CLEAN!!!! not only because mom is coming, but just because i needed to do some purging. there are times when i feel all ucky thinking about the last people who lived here. not like they were dirty or anything,. i just get a vibe... and i am one sage stick short of smudging this place to get out all the evil spirits too. i mean, i know why i get this way... its partly the germ thing... and partly just hating thinking about people who were here BEFORE me. and their essence? spirit? aura? hell, i don't know... but i feel it here. well, FELT it here... this house has been PURGED of all things prior to my arrival! so, to the previous tenant(s), YOU HAVE BEEN PURGED!!!! seek shelter elsewhere. no more weird stain on the oven... no more crappy shelf liner.... its just me and my Husband and all our lovin in here now. a love nest, if you will. a clean, shiny, love nest.
NUMBER six: mom and i are going to eat SOOOOOOOOOOOOO much barbeque while she's here... we might even TURN INTO briskets our ownselves.
NUMBER 7: Husband has started playing golf again.... he is really excited about it. he did really great on his first day back. this really means a lot to him, considering that he is so great at EVER SINGLE OTHER SPORT HE ATTEMPTS!!!!!! and golf is the one that gives him the most trouble. he hates that he isn't a natural at it, like everything else. hell, i bet he could kick all of our asses at Curling, but golf.... its a battle. but he'll master it. i have faith. now if only he would quit swinging his driver like a baseball bat.
NUMBER eight: anybody have a good cheesecake recipe? italian style preferred.
NUMBER 9: ONLY 23 MORE SHOPPING DAYS UNTIL ALLIE's BIRTHDAY!
and finally
NUMBER ten: will someone teach the REDS how to play baseball, again? because i think they are broken.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
paralyzed by the yum
as some of you know, my darling Husband loves to cook. (see here for more evidence.)
so we decided we were going to have a fancy dinner on sunday... and what started as a night out, ended as a fantastic night in.
he worked on the menu for 2 days. and on saturday night, in MY drunken stupor, we went shopping for the necessities. THAT was a super fun time.... "wait, HOW many limes? oh right, .....wait, did you say limes or lemons???"
and sunday we went and saw HitchHiker's Guide to the Galaxy if you have read the book(s) then go see it. if you haven't, then go see it and THEN read the books. and they may not make sense to you, but really, they aren't supposed to. H and i summarized them as "books you read wondering if there was some other book BEFORE them all that would make it all make sense" so don't get caught up in the nonsense.... let it WASH over you. but enough, this is about food, not movies.
after that, we finished shopping for the last few ingredients and went home to start cooking.
lets just say that we started MAKING dinner at 7 ish and ate at 11.
and as a nod to Tasty and her friend just sending her seductive menus.... THIS was the menu:
so we decided we were going to have a fancy dinner on sunday... and what started as a night out, ended as a fantastic night in.
he worked on the menu for 2 days. and on saturday night, in MY drunken stupor, we went shopping for the necessities. THAT was a super fun time.... "wait, HOW many limes? oh right, .....wait, did you say limes or lemons???"
and sunday we went and saw HitchHiker's Guide to the Galaxy if you have read the book(s) then go see it. if you haven't, then go see it and THEN read the books. and they may not make sense to you, but really, they aren't supposed to. H and i summarized them as "books you read wondering if there was some other book BEFORE them all that would make it all make sense" so don't get caught up in the nonsense.... let it WASH over you. but enough, this is about food, not movies.
after that, we finished shopping for the last few ingredients and went home to start cooking.
lets just say that we started MAKING dinner at 7 ish and ate at 11.
and as a nod to Tasty and her friend just sending her seductive menus.... THIS was the menu:
- Cream Cheese stuffed Mushroom Caps
- Broiled Shrimp K-Bobs with a Brown Mustard-Basil-Pineapple Marinade
- Grilled Green Garlic Chicken Breasts
- Mango-Kiwi Salsa
- Coney Island Style Corn on the Cob
- Herbed Wild Rice
- and for dessert, Key Lime Pie (sorry, this was frozen, i helped cook, i didn't have time to bake, too)
and margaritas. STIFF ones.
let's all say it together:
OH MY GOOD GAWDDAMN!!!
and while he was making the mushrooms, i said to him, "you know i married you for your money.... but i STAY married to you for your mushrooms and french toast"
he said, "what, you aren't here because of the Cinnamon Mashed Potatoes or the Cracked Pepper Macaroni?" (both of which were CULINARY DEBACLES!!!!!)
but, yeah...no. it's those mushrooms.
and strangely, after we ate, it was as if someone had put Roofies in our food. we couldn't move. we were paralyzed by the yum. it was a good 10 minutes before we gained our strength and will to live back. which really wasn't so bad, because we really could have died, right then and there.
so, if you are ever lucky enough to make it to AMARILLO, come see us, i bet we could coerce some mushrooms outta him. and then you can die happy too!
Monday, May 02, 2005
dear mother nature....
ok, so today is May SECOND, right?
which means that typically, in the next 45 days, we should be experiencing the Summer Solstice, right?
so then can someone tell me....... ME, who lives in AMARILLO, TEXAS
WHY IN THE FUCK IS IT SNOWING???????
yes, my friends, snow. i cant make this shit up.
i even woke Husband up to let him know that is was snowing. he looked at me like i had 4 heads. he then called BULLSHIT until i opened the blinds.
he just shook his head and asked, "today is May SECOND, right?"
i think so.
which means that typically, in the next 45 days, we should be experiencing the Summer Solstice, right?
so then can someone tell me....... ME, who lives in AMARILLO, TEXAS
WHY IN THE FUCK IS IT SNOWING???????
yes, my friends, snow. i cant make this shit up.
i even woke Husband up to let him know that is was snowing. he looked at me like i had 4 heads. he then called BULLSHIT until i opened the blinds.
he just shook his head and asked, "today is May SECOND, right?"
i think so.
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