Every time I come to visit the family, don't think that I am on vacation. It is so far from that, it's not funny.
Let's see, every day since Christmas Eve my mom has had me on the go, go, go. I cannot blame her; she misses doing things with me--no matter what they are. She drags me to the drug store to pick up shower gel with her. Any time spent together she treasures.
Then the work week started, for them and for me. Rather than be bored in the house all day, she drags me to her practice. Day one, was so boring I could die.
Day two was not so bad because a hot hottie came in and I was on that for an hour. Hee hee. I don't think there is a 'rule' where the doctor's daughter cannot flirt with the patients. Is there?
Day three, I needed a project. My mom sent me to get gas for her car. On average that would take twenty minutes. It took me three hours. The gas station is in between a Super Wal-Mart and a Kohl's. I fell into both.
I have good reasons:
1. Wal-Mart and Kohl's are not located in the Dallas proper city limits, so visiting each one is a holiday in itself.
2. My sunglasses broke the second day I was here and I just cannot be out in the sun with out super star shades. Needless to say, I still do not have a replacement pair, just yet. (Not to worry, today I am off to Target and it strategically located next to the cutest shops)
My mom noticed that the projects I had were not real projects--when is shopping not a project?!?
So, she gave me a job.
Plan the New Year's Party.
Okeedokee.
I can tell you how I think that this was her plan all along because we can all remember how she suckered me into planning her Grand Opening last time I was here. Uhm hmm.
How do you plan a party in three days? You give that task to your visiting daughter (who loves to plan parties no matter what) so that her days are not filled with repeats of Oprah and the Tyra Banks Show.
The theme was already established by my mom: Casino Night.
I know...I know. Original, right?
It was my idea and plan to make it original.
I am turning the basement into a casino. I found this wall paper decor at Party City; where you tape this design onto your wall, I got the slot machines design and Voila! Instant casino.
I also found a desk top slot machine. I plan to have that at the door. When guests walk in, they each receive $250 monopoly money (which they cash in downstairs, in the basement, for chips) and they can double it by taking a turn at the slot machine. It is super cute, it rings and whistles when you win.
My brother and his friends will be the dealers.
The guest bathroom I am decorating to make into "The Little White Chapel"---I kind of fell into the Wedding aisle at the Party City as well (what can I say?) and there are some cheesy wedding crap at that store. I couldn't resist. I got the tulle, the faux wedding bands, white bells, and a cake topper showing an eloped couple. All that is missing is Elvis.
My mom was a wee bit hesitant when I told her the idea. Maybe I didn't take the right approach when I said; "people will be hooking up in the bathroom". I thought it was funny.
It's a New Year's party, isn't hooking up a requirement? I'd rather someone did it in the bathroom than the guest bed where I am sleeping.
Thursday, December 29
Tuesday, December 27
Beantown?!?!
Right before I left the office for my Christmas vacation--which lasts until next year because I have no boss right now, so you know I do as I please. Seriously---no Boss, the only person left in my company above me in command is the CEO and I doubt he has time to approve my vacation days, so I figure I am doing him a favor and making my own 'executive decisions'--hee hee.
Where was I?
Before I left the office, we had a conference call. Now, I thought this call was to reassure us that the people that were left from all the lay offs were safe. I thought this call was going to boost our morale and tell us that everything will be alright. I thought there would be a Merry Christmas in this call--well, there was that, a big fat (sarcastic) Merry Freaking Christmas!
The call informed us of two things:
1. All people in my department now have the same title. Boy, did that piss off my manager, who is on maternity leave. Which means, too that I was demoted. Just great--oh, but our pay will stay the same. Which would be great news, until the other shoe dropped:
2. By June 2006, the company will have all of us reporting in one centralized location. Either out of an office where they don't know the location, just yet (so they say) or Boston-where we have an office now.
Did you read that correctly? Because I live in Dallas, Texas.
Boston, as in Massachusetes is hella far away.
I was shocked and pissed when I first heard it. I bitched with others. I was outraged. The conclusion was to move to one of those cities (remember second city unknown) or be laid off.
Merry Freaking Christmas.
I was not going to tell my mom, but as soon as she asked me how the lay offs were, I spilled the beans and she gave me the reaction I was so not expecting from her:
She told me that she didn't understand why I saw it as a bad deal because a) I've always wanted to move to the East coast, NYC to be exact, and this could be a perfect opportunity for me to do so. She went on and on about how great Boston is--she used to take day trips there when she lived in NYC, way back in the day.
b) I have nothing holding me back in Dallas...
True. True.
I'm not married. I have no kids. Non-boyfriend Incredible doesn't look like he is making a move to be Fiance Incredible. My family live in Chandler (Phoenix). My extended family all live in Miami and Brooklyn. I'm used to relocating all the time--shoot I spent my entire childhood doing it as a Military Brat.
So why the heck not?
I do really like Dallas. I've been in Texas for over ten years. Most of my friends live here. I know no one in Boston and the thought of moving somewhere cold turkey where you know nobody scares me (even though a Bostonian counterpart told me I'd have twenty friends if I did move). And can we add, I love my disposable income.
Beantown is hella expensive. Yes, they would have to raise my salary for the cost of living...but still--and, yes, I know Dallas ain't cheap but it is definetely cheaper.
I just don't know...at this point, I'm hoping just to go back to a job. Who knows what other 'news' is dropping while I am away. They could be packing my desk up, as I type, seriously.
Where was I?
Before I left the office, we had a conference call. Now, I thought this call was to reassure us that the people that were left from all the lay offs were safe. I thought this call was going to boost our morale and tell us that everything will be alright. I thought there would be a Merry Christmas in this call--well, there was that, a big fat (sarcastic) Merry Freaking Christmas!
The call informed us of two things:
1. All people in my department now have the same title. Boy, did that piss off my manager, who is on maternity leave. Which means, too that I was demoted. Just great--oh, but our pay will stay the same. Which would be great news, until the other shoe dropped:
2. By June 2006, the company will have all of us reporting in one centralized location. Either out of an office where they don't know the location, just yet (so they say) or Boston-where we have an office now.
Did you read that correctly? Because I live in Dallas, Texas.
Boston, as in Massachusetes is hella far away.
I was shocked and pissed when I first heard it. I bitched with others. I was outraged. The conclusion was to move to one of those cities (remember second city unknown) or be laid off.
Merry Freaking Christmas.
I was not going to tell my mom, but as soon as she asked me how the lay offs were, I spilled the beans and she gave me the reaction I was so not expecting from her:
She told me that she didn't understand why I saw it as a bad deal because a) I've always wanted to move to the East coast, NYC to be exact, and this could be a perfect opportunity for me to do so. She went on and on about how great Boston is--she used to take day trips there when she lived in NYC, way back in the day.
b) I have nothing holding me back in Dallas...
True. True.
I'm not married. I have no kids. Non-boyfriend Incredible doesn't look like he is making a move to be Fiance Incredible. My family live in Chandler (Phoenix). My extended family all live in Miami and Brooklyn. I'm used to relocating all the time--shoot I spent my entire childhood doing it as a Military Brat.
So why the heck not?
I do really like Dallas. I've been in Texas for over ten years. Most of my friends live here. I know no one in Boston and the thought of moving somewhere cold turkey where you know nobody scares me (even though a Bostonian counterpart told me I'd have twenty friends if I did move). And can we add, I love my disposable income.
Beantown is hella expensive. Yes, they would have to raise my salary for the cost of living...but still--and, yes, I know Dallas ain't cheap but it is definetely cheaper.
I just don't know...at this point, I'm hoping just to go back to a job. Who knows what other 'news' is dropping while I am away. They could be packing my desk up, as I type, seriously.
Bored in Phoenix...oops, Chandler
Because my cell phone has no service in my mom's house, there is nothing good on television (even Tyra is a repeat, a very bad repeat and its about breasts), and I had nothing else to blog about.
Enjoy:
Eggnog or hot chocolate? Hot Chocolate
Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? He just sets them under the tree.
Multicolor or only white lights? White
Do you hang mistletoe? No, but I wish I did.
When do you put your Christmas decorations up? The day after Thanksgiving .
What is your favorite holiday side dish? Cornbread stuffing
Favorite holdiday memory as a child? Visiting Santa at malls
When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? I don't remember
Do you open any gifts on Christmas Eve? Not anymore. When I was younger; we opened our stockings on Xmas Eve.
What kind of cookies are left for Santa? Sugar cookies
Snow love it or dread it? I love it but would never go play in it or shovel it--just to look at, esp. un-tracked, smooth, virginal, just fallen snow on the ground
Can you ice skate? yes
Favorite Christmas gift as a child. A pink double cassette/radio stereo--I was the sh!t
What's important to you about the holidays? My family.
What's your favorite holiday desert? Can you believe we don‘t do desserts. Maybe that‘s where my hate of pies came from.
What's your favorite holiday tradition? Making mini meat pies with my mom
What tops your tree, Angel or star? Nada this year
Which do you prefer, giving or receiving? I have to go with ’Twisted Panties’ on this one: Giving. Especially for people I don't just feel obligated but when I go shopping I say, "Oh my gosh, so and so would love this. I have to get it for them for Christmas."
What is your favorite Christmas carol? “All I Want for Christmas is You” and “Baby, it’s Cold Outside”
Candy Canes yum or yuck? Yum yum
If you had to spend this Christmas with only one person, who would it be? Toughie…
I'll tag Bev. Happy Holidays
Enjoy:
Eggnog or hot chocolate? Hot Chocolate
Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? He just sets them under the tree.
Multicolor or only white lights? White
Do you hang mistletoe? No, but I wish I did.
When do you put your Christmas decorations up? The day after Thanksgiving .
What is your favorite holiday side dish? Cornbread stuffing
Favorite holdiday memory as a child? Visiting Santa at malls
When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? I don't remember
Do you open any gifts on Christmas Eve? Not anymore. When I was younger; we opened our stockings on Xmas Eve.
What kind of cookies are left for Santa? Sugar cookies
Snow love it or dread it? I love it but would never go play in it or shovel it--just to look at, esp. un-tracked, smooth, virginal, just fallen snow on the ground
Can you ice skate? yes
Favorite Christmas gift as a child. A pink double cassette/radio stereo--I was the sh!t
What's important to you about the holidays? My family.
What's your favorite holiday desert? Can you believe we don‘t do desserts. Maybe that‘s where my hate of pies came from.
What's your favorite holiday tradition? Making mini meat pies with my mom
What tops your tree, Angel or star? Nada this year
Which do you prefer, giving or receiving? I have to go with ’Twisted Panties’ on this one: Giving. Especially for people I don't just feel obligated but when I go shopping I say, "Oh my gosh, so and so would love this. I have to get it for them for Christmas."
What is your favorite Christmas carol? “All I Want for Christmas is You” and “Baby, it’s Cold Outside”
Candy Canes yum or yuck? Yum yum
If you had to spend this Christmas with only one person, who would it be? Toughie…
I'll tag Bev. Happy Holidays
Tuesday, December 20
And Now for Some More Numbers
There were a ton of people in my apartment last night. A ton. It was the brunch club gang and more, literally. People I didn't know were in my house.
I feel crowded in my place when there are four people in it. I live in a traditional loft, no walls. My bedroom is separated in that it is upstairs with my bathroom.
On the first floor is my kitchen and living/dining area. It is very narrow.
My couch seats four people. I have four dining chairs. Eight people can sit down.
There are 2 chairs up in my bedroom and my king size bed. I think eight more people can fit up there, sitting down.
My toilet seat fits one.
My kitchen counters can hold about five.
With all that seating, I'd say four can sit on the floor upstairs and down. That's another eight.
But that's not how everyone was last night. We survived and the party was a hit.
The party, oh boy, let me tell you how I was Martha Stewart on speed yesterday.
My co-host for this shindig left the country unexpectedly. The party was to be at her house; where there is tons of room. It was too late to cancel, so we just moved it to my humble small loft apartment.
The party was a cookie swap. The rules were simple; but there were a lot:
1. All cookies must be homemade. "No-bake" cookies, meringues or bars are allowed.
2. Please bring 2 dozen total cookies.
3. Arrange cookies in a basket, platter, or container and make sure to bring an empty large container (i.e., Tupperware) to carry away cookies.
4. Bring one copy of your recipe—we provide recipe cards for all to use for copying all your favorite recipes.
5. RSVP as soon as you can and be certain to note on the eVite what type of cookies you will be baking so that we donÂ’t have duplicate recipes.
6. If you don't have time to bake, or have ruined your recipe and but still want to attend, you must go to a real bakery and buy yummy cookies.
And with as many people that showed up, I was shocked that there were nrepetitionsns in recipes. Only one person bought store bought cookies.
We voted on "ugliest", "prettiest", "tastiest", and "most hodgepodge" cookies. It was mad fun.
But, if I can say so, the most fun was my special hot cocoa, made from scratch.
Last Friday while I was out of office, I watched 'Martha'. I love her show. When I am off from the office this is my pleasure, I like to play the role of unmarried housewife and take on projects. Martha made white chocolate bark with broken up peppermint candies.
Before I saw this show, I had been dying to mash up some peppermint and sprinkle on a cupcake. A la the Queen.
After watching Martha show us how it's done. I did so. I made those cupcakes Sunday afternoon. Mashing peppermint with a hammer is the best stress releaser during the Holidays, I found out. I made plain old vanilla cakes because I am not a chocolate fan, then used buttercream frosting dyed pink. They looked super cute.
After one mashing, you just want to keep on. Try it. Plus, it makes your kitchen smell all pepperminty, which is a good thing.
As I was searching for a signature drink to serve at the cookie swap, my co-worker told me about this recipe:
4 cups of milk
4 cups of whipping cream
1/3 cup of sugar
---stir together in a pot and heat on medium heat, constantly stirring. When hot enough, pour into a bowl w/ 12 ounces of semi-sweet chocolate bars ( I used choc. chips. Its so much easier and y'all know how I hate melting chocolate)
Add 1/3 cup of Peppermint Schnapps. Stir well.
Serve in an Irish coffee like mug. Top with whipped cream.
Here's the cutest part: Top whipped cream with crushed peppermint.
And can it get cuter? Yes, it can: Make swizzle stir sticks with a candy cane poked through a peppermint patty candy---to use as stirrer spoon.
UH HUH.
UH HUH.
And I did as Oprah would have and greeted each guest with a drink. There was also noalcoholicic apple cider. But, who wanted that?
I feel crowded in my place when there are four people in it. I live in a traditional loft, no walls. My bedroom is separated in that it is upstairs with my bathroom.
On the first floor is my kitchen and living/dining area. It is very narrow.
My couch seats four people. I have four dining chairs. Eight people can sit down.
There are 2 chairs up in my bedroom and my king size bed. I think eight more people can fit up there, sitting down.
My toilet seat fits one.
My kitchen counters can hold about five.
With all that seating, I'd say four can sit on the floor upstairs and down. That's another eight.
But that's not how everyone was last night. We survived and the party was a hit.
The party, oh boy, let me tell you how I was Martha Stewart on speed yesterday.
My co-host for this shindig left the country unexpectedly. The party was to be at her house; where there is tons of room. It was too late to cancel, so we just moved it to my humble small loft apartment.
The party was a cookie swap. The rules were simple; but there were a lot:
1. All cookies must be homemade. "No-bake" cookies, meringues or bars are allowed.
2. Please bring 2 dozen total cookies.
3. Arrange cookies in a basket, platter, or container and make sure to bring an empty large container (i.e., Tupperware) to carry away cookies.
4. Bring one copy of your recipe—we provide recipe cards for all to use for copying all your favorite recipes.
5. RSVP as soon as you can and be certain to note on the eVite what type of cookies you will be baking so that we donÂ’t have duplicate recipes.
6. If you don't have time to bake, or have ruined your recipe and but still want to attend, you must go to a real bakery and buy yummy cookies.
And with as many people that showed up, I was shocked that there were nrepetitionsns in recipes. Only one person bought store bought cookies.
We voted on "ugliest", "prettiest", "tastiest", and "most hodgepodge" cookies. It was mad fun.
But, if I can say so, the most fun was my special hot cocoa, made from scratch.
Last Friday while I was out of office, I watched 'Martha'. I love her show. When I am off from the office this is my pleasure, I like to play the role of unmarried housewife and take on projects. Martha made white chocolate bark with broken up peppermint candies.
Before I saw this show, I had been dying to mash up some peppermint and sprinkle on a cupcake. A la the Queen.
After watching Martha show us how it's done. I did so. I made those cupcakes Sunday afternoon. Mashing peppermint with a hammer is the best stress releaser during the Holidays, I found out. I made plain old vanilla cakes because I am not a chocolate fan, then used buttercream frosting dyed pink. They looked super cute.
After one mashing, you just want to keep on. Try it. Plus, it makes your kitchen smell all pepperminty, which is a good thing.
As I was searching for a signature drink to serve at the cookie swap, my co-worker told me about this recipe:
4 cups of milk
4 cups of whipping cream
1/3 cup of sugar
---stir together in a pot and heat on medium heat, constantly stirring. When hot enough, pour into a bowl w/ 12 ounces of semi-sweet chocolate bars ( I used choc. chips. Its so much easier and y'all know how I hate melting chocolate)
Add 1/3 cup of Peppermint Schnapps. Stir well.
Serve in an Irish coffee like mug. Top with whipped cream.
Here's the cutest part: Top whipped cream with crushed peppermint.
And can it get cuter? Yes, it can: Make swizzle stir sticks with a candy cane poked through a peppermint patty candy---to use as stirrer spoon.
UH HUH.
UH HUH.
And I did as Oprah would have and greeted each guest with a drink. There was also noalcoholicic apple cider. But, who wanted that?
45 and 12...
Sorry I have been out of the scene, but boy do I have a good excuse and those numbers are it.
The first is the percentage of people laid off last Tuesday from my company.
Uh huh, two weeks before Christmas.
Our office lost 4 people that day and it was the saddest day ever to watch them pack it up and leave. I wanted to cry.
The remainder of the office went out to dinner for what you could call the 'wake' of those that were laid off.
That happened Tuesday. From that day forward the second number came into play.
Every other minute or so; I would get an email that announced that someone or the other was now voluntarily leaving the company.
Yes.
The total now is 12. Twelve people who just said F this and walked out...no severance, no bonus, no pay, and no unemployment from the government.
That scares me.
Do they know something I don't know? Why would you just quit?
The company has announced that we are "re-organizing"--whatever that means. I think we are being bought and won't find out till the new year. But all the people that have quit since then are the heart and energy of the company including my Boss.
He left yesterday and there were tears had by all and mostly him. I hate seeing adult men cry. Hate it. It tears me up inside.
This was his first job out of college. He has been here for 16 years. He said it best with: "I know nothing else but this company"
How do you leave that?
So, understandably I have not been online or even working for that matter. I literally have no boss. Isn't that crazy?!?!
My 'rules' are still in effect, hee hee and even more so now. I have been taking half days since the lay off bomb hit us.
Mostly, I have been getting out of the office just to get out. Every emotion but joy has been expressed and the office is so sad and quiet. Who would want to stay here all day?
Not, me.
The first is the percentage of people laid off last Tuesday from my company.
Uh huh, two weeks before Christmas.
Our office lost 4 people that day and it was the saddest day ever to watch them pack it up and leave. I wanted to cry.
The remainder of the office went out to dinner for what you could call the 'wake' of those that were laid off.
That happened Tuesday. From that day forward the second number came into play.
Every other minute or so; I would get an email that announced that someone or the other was now voluntarily leaving the company.
Yes.
The total now is 12. Twelve people who just said F this and walked out...no severance, no bonus, no pay, and no unemployment from the government.
That scares me.
Do they know something I don't know? Why would you just quit?
The company has announced that we are "re-organizing"--whatever that means. I think we are being bought and won't find out till the new year. But all the people that have quit since then are the heart and energy of the company including my Boss.
He left yesterday and there were tears had by all and mostly him. I hate seeing adult men cry. Hate it. It tears me up inside.
This was his first job out of college. He has been here for 16 years. He said it best with: "I know nothing else but this company"
How do you leave that?
So, understandably I have not been online or even working for that matter. I literally have no boss. Isn't that crazy?!?!
My 'rules' are still in effect, hee hee and even more so now. I have been taking half days since the lay off bomb hit us.
Mostly, I have been getting out of the office just to get out. Every emotion but joy has been expressed and the office is so sad and quiet. Who would want to stay here all day?
Not, me.
Tuesday, December 13
Welcome to Brooklyn, Now Put Your Lighters Up
I should say Dallas. But hey, I was born in Brooklyn (the BK) so maybe it counts.
My actual birthday turned out great, if I could put a theme to it, it would be: cupcakes. Singing, dancing cupcakes on eCards, a cupcake after lunch, cupcake shaped candles, and a cupcake book.
Guess my friends know me all to well.
My actual birth-night sucked. No dinner at Sambuca. Still have the gift card---anyone? Anyone?
There was no dinner, period. I refused to cook or go out and get my own solo dinner. Thank goodness I hate a great big lunch with AP. Thank goodness.
I did have drinks with Kelli---who was celebrating her move to Austin. That lasted an hour or so, tops.
The rest of the night I was ALONE on my BIRTHDAY. I didn't have the balls to call anyone and tell them, except Beverly. She understood.
It wasn't until late that Incredible (boy do we need a new name) made an appearance. Instead of boring you with the details of an argument that my neighbors heard; I'll just say that I let him have it.
My birthday weekend---now, that's something to discuss.
The party was a hit (to me, at least). The theme was Alice in Wonderland (not Disney). I had everyone dress up in non matching clothes and we met up for a UnBirthday Lunch.
My gift bags/favors were unbirthday presents to all my guests.
There were only six---oh, no wait five--one person who RSVP'd never showed, never called, and when I got to work on Monday, her excuse was, are you ready? Her excuse was she was running around town and forgot the time. Uhm hmm. Are you kidding, me?
It was crazy fun to see all the outfits we each came up with to wear. And it was mighty embarrassing to be seen in public. But. hey what can you do? Especially when you are the one who made up the rules? Hee hee.
I've been wanting to do this party for at least half a year. Yes, that long. You are looking at the person who has at least 10 party ideas in her head at one given moment. There is already a Cookie Swap in the works for next Monday.
That night following the lunch-party, we went to the Velvet Hookah to follow in theme.
It was my first time smoking a hookah. Toxic tried to teach me and told me it was like smoking pot...uhm how do I put this; I was the only one at the table who never tried pot.
You may think I am a bad girl, not really. Never, ever tried the stuff. Never, ever will.
We did the Hookah and then went dancing at a club. It wouldn't be someone's birthday without drama. There was drama, I did my best to ignore it and enjoyed the night, dancing all night long.
My legs are still sore.
My actual birthday turned out great, if I could put a theme to it, it would be: cupcakes. Singing, dancing cupcakes on eCards, a cupcake after lunch, cupcake shaped candles, and a cupcake book.
Guess my friends know me all to well.
My actual birth-night sucked. No dinner at Sambuca. Still have the gift card---anyone? Anyone?
There was no dinner, period. I refused to cook or go out and get my own solo dinner. Thank goodness I hate a great big lunch with AP. Thank goodness.
I did have drinks with Kelli---who was celebrating her move to Austin. That lasted an hour or so, tops.
The rest of the night I was ALONE on my BIRTHDAY. I didn't have the balls to call anyone and tell them, except Beverly. She understood.
It wasn't until late that Incredible (boy do we need a new name) made an appearance. Instead of boring you with the details of an argument that my neighbors heard; I'll just say that I let him have it.
My birthday weekend---now, that's something to discuss.
The party was a hit (to me, at least). The theme was Alice in Wonderland (not Disney). I had everyone dress up in non matching clothes and we met up for a UnBirthday Lunch.
My gift bags/favors were unbirthday presents to all my guests.
There were only six---oh, no wait five--one person who RSVP'd never showed, never called, and when I got to work on Monday, her excuse was, are you ready? Her excuse was she was running around town and forgot the time. Uhm hmm. Are you kidding, me?
It was crazy fun to see all the outfits we each came up with to wear. And it was mighty embarrassing to be seen in public. But. hey what can you do? Especially when you are the one who made up the rules? Hee hee.
I've been wanting to do this party for at least half a year. Yes, that long. You are looking at the person who has at least 10 party ideas in her head at one given moment. There is already a Cookie Swap in the works for next Monday.
That night following the lunch-party, we went to the Velvet Hookah to follow in theme.
It was my first time smoking a hookah. Toxic tried to teach me and told me it was like smoking pot...uhm how do I put this; I was the only one at the table who never tried pot.
You may think I am a bad girl, not really. Never, ever tried the stuff. Never, ever will.
We did the Hookah and then went dancing at a club. It wouldn't be someone's birthday without drama. There was drama, I did my best to ignore it and enjoyed the night, dancing all night long.
My legs are still sore.
Thursday, December 8
New Rules
My manager is out on maternity leave. That leaves me as the only one in our department.
Do you know what that means?
"Pizza for everybody!!"
Because I am the boss of me.
And that means a few things have changed around here:
1. Lunch is no longer an hour. It's whenever I finish eating or shopping, depending on how I spend my 'hour' that day.
2. Lunch is no longer at the specific time of noon. It's whenever I'm hungry.
3. Email priority is now based on the order I receive emails. Placing "URGENT" or "ASAP" in the subject line no longer grabs my attention.
4. The phone? What phone..is that what is ringing? Leave me voicemail, thanks and if you don't, that means you didn't call. We don't have CallerID here.
5. I am not the gofer. If manager did it for the staff we support; that was her deal. They are dealing with me now and in no way, shape, or manner am I their gofer.
6. Four day work week. Every Friday the department is closed.
7. Ghetto/Street slang is being incorporated into the office. I have implemented a new procedure, I'm calling it "Slang of the Day". I brought my Slang flashcards to work and each day as other people come in; they must learn a new slang word. The office and interoffice emails are so much more fun, with a "Yo", "Bounce", and "Cheddar".
8. Company paid for lunch today. It's too cold and icey to even think of driving for lunch.
9. I'm painting the wall by my desk. I approved it. Wha-ha-ha.
10. I also approved my new parking spot.
11. If the weather man predicts any kind of crazy weather (ice, snow, sleet, or rain); the department is closing early. I hate driving in any of those conditions.
12. We now get Diet Coke with Lime and Fresca delivered along with all the other company provided soft drinks. Diet Coke with Lime is a necessity some times. It taste like a rum and coke, minus the rum, but I can so pretend. Fresca is my favorites pop, ever. No carbs, no calories, and great, yummy taste. Love it.
13. 1 week vacation for Christmas, 1 week to go to Mexico next year (have we discussed that, yet), and every Friday off. All approved. By me.
Word to your mutha.
Do you know what that means?
"Pizza for everybody!!"
Because I am the boss of me.
And that means a few things have changed around here:
1. Lunch is no longer an hour. It's whenever I finish eating or shopping, depending on how I spend my 'hour' that day.
2. Lunch is no longer at the specific time of noon. It's whenever I'm hungry.
3. Email priority is now based on the order I receive emails. Placing "URGENT" or "ASAP" in the subject line no longer grabs my attention.
4. The phone? What phone..is that what is ringing? Leave me voicemail, thanks and if you don't, that means you didn't call. We don't have CallerID here.
5. I am not the gofer. If manager did it for the staff we support; that was her deal. They are dealing with me now and in no way, shape, or manner am I their gofer.
6. Four day work week. Every Friday the department is closed.
7. Ghetto/Street slang is being incorporated into the office. I have implemented a new procedure, I'm calling it "Slang of the Day". I brought my Slang flashcards to work and each day as other people come in; they must learn a new slang word. The office and interoffice emails are so much more fun, with a "Yo", "Bounce", and "Cheddar".
8. Company paid for lunch today. It's too cold and icey to even think of driving for lunch.
9. I'm painting the wall by my desk. I approved it. Wha-ha-ha.
10. I also approved my new parking spot.
11. If the weather man predicts any kind of crazy weather (ice, snow, sleet, or rain); the department is closing early. I hate driving in any of those conditions.
12. We now get Diet Coke with Lime and Fresca delivered along with all the other company provided soft drinks. Diet Coke with Lime is a necessity some times. It taste like a rum and coke, minus the rum, but I can so pretend. Fresca is my favorites pop, ever. No carbs, no calories, and great, yummy taste. Love it.
13. 1 week vacation for Christmas, 1 week to go to Mexico next year (have we discussed that, yet), and every Friday off. All approved. By me.
Word to your mutha.
Tuesday, December 6
Maybe I'm Cursed
12-06-01
The Ex who had found God was dating me at the time. We'd been dating for over a year. My birthday fell on a weekday and as norm we (meaning me) planned to celebrate it on that weekend. It was a small affair; dinner with friends and dancing later.
He forgot that it was my birthday on my birthday. I went the whole morning waiting for him to say something; finally I got the nerve to call him up at his job, before I went to class and tell him what day it was.
He tried to make up for it with a bunch of roses later in the day. Roses, people, roses. Let's not get me started on that.
I was mad. I got over it. Oh, well.
12-06-02
This particular year, my birthday was on a Friday. I planned a huge dinner party that Saturday night with friends. I cooked everything. The theme was Dinner at Tiffany's; to mock Breakfast at Tiffany's.
Not only did the Ex forget it was birthday; he completely forgot the party that I slaved away for days was happening. Believe me; all this was happening while he would be staying over at my place watching me plan the party. He tried to make up for it by being my right hand man (slave) during the party.
I was pissed. I got over it. Oh, well.
12-06-03
This was my first year in Dallas. My birthday was on a Saturday. Me and the Ex were not exactly together-together; but we were still close as could be for long distance. Did he call? Did he write? Did he send an e-Card?
What do you think?
I waited one day, for when I was shopping in the Galleria with my friends (who traveled to celebrate with me) to tell him what day had passed.
You'd think after three years, I'd learn my lesson. Ex cannot write a freaking date down on a calendar nor remember one. You'd think he'd learn a lesson, too.
You'd think.
I was defeated. I got over it. Oh, well.
12-06-04
New boyfriend. Same deal...almost.
I planned a party for the weekend following my birthday. My birthday was on a Monday. The party was a cowboy theme party; we ate dinner at Texas Land & Cattle, afterwards headed over to Gilley's for some F-U-N.
The actual day of my birthday, there was no word from Incredible.
To be fair, I'll let you in on his excuse. He was on the road coming back from the Big 12 Championship game. The road trip had been planned since before he and I met. The only thing on his mind that Monday was how to get tickets to the National championship game at the Orange Bowl.
Was it excused? No. We live in a day and age where cell phones exist. Anyway, when he made it back to town (so tired from his trip) there was no celebration or gift from him to me. NONE.
He paid for my dinner at Texas Land & Cattle.
I was hurt. I got over it. Oh, well.
12-06-05
Present day. Are you ready for this? Really ready?
Incredible spent the night at my house last night. He spoke to my mom, then she spoke to me and we obviously were discussing my birthday. Obviously. And he was sitting next to me, granted a football game was on television, but still...Because prior to that we both were at a happy hour--where one of my friends announced my birthday was tomorrow and Incredible heard him. He's not deaf. I know he heard him.
Incredible spends the night. Is it me or if you wake up next to a birthday girl, you should (SHOULD) say "Happy birthday". Shouldn't those be the first words out your mouth? And when you are leaving my apartment and you still have not said a word, and I tell you to have a good day, shouldn't you say it, then too?
Am I crazy?
I waited, and waited, and waited. My phone never rang. I purposely was late to work this morning, just in case, he wanted to remember and call my cell phone or my work and I would have a 'happy birthday' message on my voice mail waiting for me.
NOT.
I'm sitting at work; my brother calls, my mom calls, eCards are flowing in like no one's business. Still no Incredible.
Then, I get an eCard from him.
I almost didn't open it because we all know of the return receipt on those things, don't we? But I did, hoping it would make up for something--like the lack of a phone call or saying it in person.
I don't know why I bothered. It was lame. Bev--your eCard kicked his eCard's ass. (Thank you so much) The card was cute--the message, oh God, the message:
"Happy Birthday"
That's it. Nothing more. I know it gets to the point and it is true.
But, come on--am I wrong to expect more in penmanship? My friends are saying more meaningful stuff to me and they don't sleep with me! Am I wrong to want to hear it from his lips and not read it on an eCard?
I know what you may be thinking---dinner may still be a possibility, a gift still may come, something better may come from him.
Sorry, my hope is down the drain. I'm not even answering my office phone any more today--so if you call my work number leave me a message, I'll call you back.
Can you blame me? My history of birthdays and boys just don't go together. At all.
Next year I swear I need to be single on this day. That way there is no one to blame, no one to hold high hopes for, no one to hold my breath in anticipation over.
Then, again, you may find me whining about how I wish I wasn't single on my birthday.
I'm upset. Not over it, yet. Oh, well.
The Ex who had found God was dating me at the time. We'd been dating for over a year. My birthday fell on a weekday and as norm we (meaning me) planned to celebrate it on that weekend. It was a small affair; dinner with friends and dancing later.
He forgot that it was my birthday on my birthday. I went the whole morning waiting for him to say something; finally I got the nerve to call him up at his job, before I went to class and tell him what day it was.
He tried to make up for it with a bunch of roses later in the day. Roses, people, roses. Let's not get me started on that.
I was mad. I got over it. Oh, well.
12-06-02
This particular year, my birthday was on a Friday. I planned a huge dinner party that Saturday night with friends. I cooked everything. The theme was Dinner at Tiffany's; to mock Breakfast at Tiffany's.
Not only did the Ex forget it was birthday; he completely forgot the party that I slaved away for days was happening. Believe me; all this was happening while he would be staying over at my place watching me plan the party. He tried to make up for it by being my right hand man (slave) during the party.
I was pissed. I got over it. Oh, well.
12-06-03
This was my first year in Dallas. My birthday was on a Saturday. Me and the Ex were not exactly together-together; but we were still close as could be for long distance. Did he call? Did he write? Did he send an e-Card?
What do you think?
I waited one day, for when I was shopping in the Galleria with my friends (who traveled to celebrate with me) to tell him what day had passed.
You'd think after three years, I'd learn my lesson. Ex cannot write a freaking date down on a calendar nor remember one. You'd think he'd learn a lesson, too.
You'd think.
I was defeated. I got over it. Oh, well.
12-06-04
New boyfriend. Same deal...almost.
I planned a party for the weekend following my birthday. My birthday was on a Monday. The party was a cowboy theme party; we ate dinner at Texas Land & Cattle, afterwards headed over to Gilley's for some F-U-N.
The actual day of my birthday, there was no word from Incredible.
To be fair, I'll let you in on his excuse. He was on the road coming back from the Big 12 Championship game. The road trip had been planned since before he and I met. The only thing on his mind that Monday was how to get tickets to the National championship game at the Orange Bowl.
Was it excused? No. We live in a day and age where cell phones exist. Anyway, when he made it back to town (so tired from his trip) there was no celebration or gift from him to me. NONE.
He paid for my dinner at Texas Land & Cattle.
I was hurt. I got over it. Oh, well.
12-06-05
Present day. Are you ready for this? Really ready?
Incredible spent the night at my house last night. He spoke to my mom, then she spoke to me and we obviously were discussing my birthday. Obviously. And he was sitting next to me, granted a football game was on television, but still...Because prior to that we both were at a happy hour--where one of my friends announced my birthday was tomorrow and Incredible heard him. He's not deaf. I know he heard him.
Incredible spends the night. Is it me or if you wake up next to a birthday girl, you should (SHOULD) say "Happy birthday". Shouldn't those be the first words out your mouth? And when you are leaving my apartment and you still have not said a word, and I tell you to have a good day, shouldn't you say it, then too?
Am I crazy?
I waited, and waited, and waited. My phone never rang. I purposely was late to work this morning, just in case, he wanted to remember and call my cell phone or my work and I would have a 'happy birthday' message on my voice mail waiting for me.
NOT.
I'm sitting at work; my brother calls, my mom calls, eCards are flowing in like no one's business. Still no Incredible.
Then, I get an eCard from him.
I almost didn't open it because we all know of the return receipt on those things, don't we? But I did, hoping it would make up for something--like the lack of a phone call or saying it in person.
I don't know why I bothered. It was lame. Bev--your eCard kicked his eCard's ass. (Thank you so much) The card was cute--the message, oh God, the message:
"Happy Birthday"
That's it. Nothing more. I know it gets to the point and it is true.
But, come on--am I wrong to expect more in penmanship? My friends are saying more meaningful stuff to me and they don't sleep with me! Am I wrong to want to hear it from his lips and not read it on an eCard?
I know what you may be thinking---dinner may still be a possibility, a gift still may come, something better may come from him.
Sorry, my hope is down the drain. I'm not even answering my office phone any more today--so if you call my work number leave me a message, I'll call you back.
Can you blame me? My history of birthdays and boys just don't go together. At all.
Next year I swear I need to be single on this day. That way there is no one to blame, no one to hold high hopes for, no one to hold my breath in anticipation over.
Then, again, you may find me whining about how I wish I wasn't single on my birthday.
I'm upset. Not over it, yet. Oh, well.
Monday, December 5
Brunch Club
A good friend of mine started Brunch Club.
It's a group of girls that get together, the first Saturday of each month, for brunch (duh) and girly time. It is fun.
I love it and breakfast/brunch food is my favorite type of food.
But, if I could make some constructive criticism about Brunch Club, I would, heck, I will.
Because Brunch Club needs some rules.
Rules of Brunch Club:
First rule of Brunch Club: nobody talks about Brunch Club.
The first meeting, 16 girls RSVP'd on the eVite. 16?!?!
I couldn't believe it. I don't know that many people.
Brunch club started out with just four people in mind, so I thought. I doubted that all sixteen would show up, especially with my history of RSVPing.
Turns out my friend, V, has some killer friends. When they say yes, they mean yes and they bring their friends.
Twenty five people ended up at our table. We had half the restaurant. Half!
You may think of it as a success. Maybe V does. I didn't. I spoke to only the people I knew--which was the original four people in this plan. The other girls were unknowns and more importantly too far down the table to speak to and I wasn't going to shout over 25 people.
It was insane. The intimacy was lost. I did get some cute outfit ideas, though. And the bill was better split twenty-five ways. Especially since I think I finished off one pitcher of Mimosa all by myself.
There was 25 people, drinking was a definite.
Second rule of Brunch Club: nobody talks about Brunch Club.
This past Saturday was another date with the club. We went to Kathleen's and I had the crab cakes (yummy).
Twenty girls again replied yes to the eVite. Nine showed.
Now, don't get me wrong--there is no ill will towards V on this, but thank goodness less than half showed up.
It was so much better and I got to meet new people this time.
I had conversations that were not yelled over twenty other conversions. I heard everyone's story and they heard mine.
I got to know people better. Quieter.
It was fantastic. I really enjoyed it.
There you have it, my rules on Brunch Club.
It's a group of girls that get together, the first Saturday of each month, for brunch (duh) and girly time. It is fun.
I love it and breakfast/brunch food is my favorite type of food.
But, if I could make some constructive criticism about Brunch Club, I would, heck, I will.
Because Brunch Club needs some rules.
Rules of Brunch Club:
First rule of Brunch Club: nobody talks about Brunch Club.
The first meeting, 16 girls RSVP'd on the eVite. 16?!?!
I couldn't believe it. I don't know that many people.
Brunch club started out with just four people in mind, so I thought. I doubted that all sixteen would show up, especially with my history of RSVPing.
Turns out my friend, V, has some killer friends. When they say yes, they mean yes and they bring their friends.
Twenty five people ended up at our table. We had half the restaurant. Half!
You may think of it as a success. Maybe V does. I didn't. I spoke to only the people I knew--which was the original four people in this plan. The other girls were unknowns and more importantly too far down the table to speak to and I wasn't going to shout over 25 people.
It was insane. The intimacy was lost. I did get some cute outfit ideas, though. And the bill was better split twenty-five ways. Especially since I think I finished off one pitcher of Mimosa all by myself.
There was 25 people, drinking was a definite.
Second rule of Brunch Club: nobody talks about Brunch Club.
This past Saturday was another date with the club. We went to Kathleen's and I had the crab cakes (yummy).
Twenty girls again replied yes to the eVite. Nine showed.
Now, don't get me wrong--there is no ill will towards V on this, but thank goodness less than half showed up.
It was so much better and I got to meet new people this time.
I had conversations that were not yelled over twenty other conversions. I heard everyone's story and they heard mine.
I got to know people better. Quieter.
It was fantastic. I really enjoyed it.
There you have it, my rules on Brunch Club.
Simple: Yes or No
Disappoint is already rapping at my door.
It doesn't take much to please me I think I'm the easiest person, well sometimes. I don't know, I could be wrong.
Yesterday Incredible asked me what my favorite perfume is.
Hell to the no.
I knew exactly what he was doing and he wasn't be sly.
I don't wear perfume. And if you know me closely for about, oh, hmm a month, you'd know that. Especially if you use my bathroom on a daily basis: did you see a perfume bottle in there? Ever? And you've known me, what, a year and a half?!?! Did you smell perfume on me at any time in this year? No.
Boy, did he get a look from me and a "I don't wear perfume" politely answered.
Am I difficult?
Now that the gift certificate is hidden, my hopes are being diminished. And crushed with the above inquiry.
To add to last night's tiptoeing ordeal, this morning I come to work and find out people are canceling on my party.
WTF?
A couple have cancelled to me; one no show, I had to find out through someone else. Others are avoiding me and my reminder email.
Why do people hold out for the better deal? Am I disliked by my friends?
Maybe they don't, but that's how it feels when you host a party and no one replies to the invitation, until the last possible moment.
What irks me more is that this party is during the day; so in no way is it interfering with any nightly plans. It's just lunch.
See, this is what I like to call Party Planning Paranoia.
I hate sending out reminder emails to my friends to RSVP. Hate it. It makes me feel like an anal selfish birthday girl.
Is that what I am?
Don't bring me any gifts, the only gift I would love is a RSVP. It's the greatest gift in the world.
Do you know how embarrassing it is, to call the restaurant make a reservation for ten people and have only three show?
Yes, we can add seats for the rude people who didn't bother replying either way---but still, reservations are made. Gift bags are constructed. Your presence is anticipated.
I don't get all that worked up over it but I feel like a birthday loser when I expect ten people and three show up; it is the worst kind of embarrassment.
Your friends don't show up for a party in your honor? A party you planned?
Why is it so hard? It takes two seconds: Read the invitation. Check your calendar. Reply to the invitation. Simple.
You don't have time to RSVP; then guess what? I don't have time for you to be at my party. Is that harsh?
Pray for me and those who cannot reply a simple yes or no. Because wrath will be the last thing they need to worry about.
It doesn't take much to please me I think I'm the easiest person, well sometimes. I don't know, I could be wrong.
Yesterday Incredible asked me what my favorite perfume is.
Hell to the no.
I knew exactly what he was doing and he wasn't be sly.
I don't wear perfume. And if you know me closely for about, oh, hmm a month, you'd know that. Especially if you use my bathroom on a daily basis: did you see a perfume bottle in there? Ever? And you've known me, what, a year and a half?!?! Did you smell perfume on me at any time in this year? No.
Boy, did he get a look from me and a "I don't wear perfume" politely answered.
Am I difficult?
Now that the gift certificate is hidden, my hopes are being diminished. And crushed with the above inquiry.
To add to last night's tiptoeing ordeal, this morning I come to work and find out people are canceling on my party.
WTF?
A couple have cancelled to me; one no show, I had to find out through someone else. Others are avoiding me and my reminder email.
Why do people hold out for the better deal? Am I disliked by my friends?
Maybe they don't, but that's how it feels when you host a party and no one replies to the invitation, until the last possible moment.
What irks me more is that this party is during the day; so in no way is it interfering with any nightly plans. It's just lunch.
See, this is what I like to call Party Planning Paranoia.
I hate sending out reminder emails to my friends to RSVP. Hate it. It makes me feel like an anal selfish birthday girl.
Is that what I am?
Don't bring me any gifts, the only gift I would love is a RSVP. It's the greatest gift in the world.
Do you know how embarrassing it is, to call the restaurant make a reservation for ten people and have only three show?
Yes, we can add seats for the rude people who didn't bother replying either way---but still, reservations are made. Gift bags are constructed. Your presence is anticipated.
I don't get all that worked up over it but I feel like a birthday loser when I expect ten people and three show up; it is the worst kind of embarrassment.
Your friends don't show up for a party in your honor? A party you planned?
Why is it so hard? It takes two seconds: Read the invitation. Check your calendar. Reply to the invitation. Simple.
You don't have time to RSVP; then guess what? I don't have time for you to be at my party. Is that harsh?
Pray for me and those who cannot reply a simple yes or no. Because wrath will be the last thing they need to worry about.
Friday, December 2
It's Very Mighty, Indeed
I heart Mighty Goods. It's a daily internet stop for me. Do you know of it?
Now you do!
Every once and awhile something great pops up and today, oh, words cannot describe how fantastic this is or how happy I am.
Check this out.
Guests, you are officially warned. You are not safe in my apartment--beware of the rapidly flying marshmallows!!
Wha-ha-ha!
Now you do!
Every once and awhile something great pops up and today, oh, words cannot describe how fantastic this is or how happy I am.
Check this out.
Guests, you are officially warned. You are not safe in my apartment--beware of the rapidly flying marshmallows!!
Wha-ha-ha!
Hallelujah!
It's story time.
Nanette, I can so side with your story about telling (screaming) to others with pride about a cheap shoe find. "Where'd you get those shoes?"
"TARGET"
"PAY LESS"
"ROSS"
"TJ MAXX"
"wal-mart"
But, the shoes I found the other day will be a hidden secret, from those that ask me. So consider yourselves lucky, internet.
About three weeks ago I was in Target browsing the shoe section. Same old, same old until I spotted them. Check these puppies out.
Aren't they beautiful? I love a regular, simple black mary jane. Mary janes are my favorite style of shoes. And three-inch heels are my favorite height of heel. Holla!
All the average size feet women bought them out and only size 5.5 were available.
Crap!
Each time, eh, practically every day I found myself in Target.
Each time I'd saunter by the shoes and check for my size. Nada at each and every Target.
I'm talking about at least three different locations. I couldn't blame them, this shoe is super cute. Who wouldn't buy it? and $23, puhleeze, I'd buy it in another color, as well, if they offered.
With each visit came defeat and woe. Maybe my feet were not deserving.
One day, I opted to Pay Less for a cheap shoe fix. I found these.
I don't know what color to wear them with nor do I even know what color to call that boot.
They say tan; but in person they are a very, very light camel--almost the color of that construction paper you practiced writing cursive on in 3rd grade. You know the kind; the manilla color--maybe that's it, they are manilla; a very light manilla.
And, I know denim goes with anything, but I like to wear skirts or gaucho pants with boots--to show off the boot. Oh my, am I conceited? If it's a boot, don't you want everyone to see that? What's the point of covering the boot shaft (that's what its called! Get out the gutter) and not showing it off?
As I stood in front of Pay Less' mirror---oh and thank you genius you thought of full length mirrors in a shoe store. I hate those lil dwarf mirrors, where you can only see the shoe and up to your calf. I want to see all of me and how fab the shoe will look on, with all of me. OK, just a wee bit conceited...
A co-shopper, woman stopped and said the boot looked great on me and that she, too was buying a pair. I told her my dilemma, she replied that nothing matches nowadays anyway so I could wear it with anything. True. I just couldn't justify it.
So I left and went to Target (for a scarf) and the Target is next door to the Pay Less. It wasn't a far trip to travel for budget shopping.
Since I was at Target, I stopped by the shoe department. No luck with the mary janes. Then a voice in my head said to just check out the other aisles of shoes.
Some people (OK, is it just me or have I been saying her name too much lately?) say that intuition is God speaking to you. That day I believed her.
Now, I know they weren't speaking of the Shoe God, but still---it's amazing what you'll believe and when you'll believe it. If shopping were a religion, I'd be at church every day.
Because. Right there, in the wrong aisle, with the wrong brand, and in the wrong box were my mary janes and in my size. They were the only misplaced shoes in the aisle.
God wanted me to have these shoes.
I believe it, I know it. Each time I wear them, I'll click my heels, thank the Tar-Jay God and tell no one.
They are too cute and I want them all to myself!
Nanette, I can so side with your story about telling (screaming) to others with pride about a cheap shoe find. "Where'd you get those shoes?"
"TARGET"
"PAY LESS"
"ROSS"
"TJ MAXX"
"wal-mart"
But, the shoes I found the other day will be a hidden secret, from those that ask me. So consider yourselves lucky, internet.
About three weeks ago I was in Target browsing the shoe section. Same old, same old until I spotted them. Check these puppies out.
Aren't they beautiful? I love a regular, simple black mary jane. Mary janes are my favorite style of shoes. And three-inch heels are my favorite height of heel. Holla!
All the average size feet women bought them out and only size 5.5 were available.
Crap!
Each time, eh, practically every day I found myself in Target.
Each time I'd saunter by the shoes and check for my size. Nada at each and every Target.
I'm talking about at least three different locations. I couldn't blame them, this shoe is super cute. Who wouldn't buy it? and $23, puhleeze, I'd buy it in another color, as well, if they offered.
With each visit came defeat and woe. Maybe my feet were not deserving.
One day, I opted to Pay Less for a cheap shoe fix. I found these.
I don't know what color to wear them with nor do I even know what color to call that boot.
They say tan; but in person they are a very, very light camel--almost the color of that construction paper you practiced writing cursive on in 3rd grade. You know the kind; the manilla color--maybe that's it, they are manilla; a very light manilla.
And, I know denim goes with anything, but I like to wear skirts or gaucho pants with boots--to show off the boot. Oh my, am I conceited? If it's a boot, don't you want everyone to see that? What's the point of covering the boot shaft (that's what its called! Get out the gutter) and not showing it off?
As I stood in front of Pay Less' mirror---oh and thank you genius you thought of full length mirrors in a shoe store. I hate those lil dwarf mirrors, where you can only see the shoe and up to your calf. I want to see all of me and how fab the shoe will look on, with all of me. OK, just a wee bit conceited...
A co-shopper, woman stopped and said the boot looked great on me and that she, too was buying a pair. I told her my dilemma, she replied that nothing matches nowadays anyway so I could wear it with anything. True. I just couldn't justify it.
So I left and went to Target (for a scarf) and the Target is next door to the Pay Less. It wasn't a far trip to travel for budget shopping.
Since I was at Target, I stopped by the shoe department. No luck with the mary janes. Then a voice in my head said to just check out the other aisles of shoes.
Some people (OK, is it just me or have I been saying her name too much lately?) say that intuition is God speaking to you. That day I believed her.
Now, I know they weren't speaking of the Shoe God, but still---it's amazing what you'll believe and when you'll believe it. If shopping were a religion, I'd be at church every day.
Because. Right there, in the wrong aisle, with the wrong brand, and in the wrong box were my mary janes and in my size. They were the only misplaced shoes in the aisle.
God wanted me to have these shoes.
I believe it, I know it. Each time I wear them, I'll click my heels, thank the Tar-Jay God and tell no one.
They are too cute and I want them all to myself!
Oprah Brought Her Jokes
It wasn't as funny as it could have been, but I did laugh. And naturally, the woman did annoy me for a second.
First, Dave shortened his monologue and pre-interview jokes to bring on Ms. Winfrey.
She looked fantabulous---does anyone know who made her dress?
It was gorgeous. Brown silk fitted, a-line skirt with a purple sash around her waist AND the best part--underneath the dress was purple tulle. OMGosh it was so cute!
Points to Oprah for really playing up that Purple card.
She kept going on and on about how she never knew there was a feud between them...yeah. right. Oprah, I remember that show when you swore you wouldn't do Dave, don't play us like that.
They spoke about how she sent his son, Harry, his own starter book club books. Cute. They spoke of Oprah lying when she was a child. Cute. Then Oprah pulled out her purple box of jokes and the party started.
Did you see it?
An autographed picture to Dave, of and from Uma Thurman and Oprah.
Hee hee.
And then she annoyed me. She is going to Ethiopia. Again.
I'm all for charity. I'm all for helping the poor. And the poor in Africa. And for African Americans going to Africa and helping. Hello? I'm Black. I'm for it.
Doesn't charity start at home?
She's been there, done that. Can't she help the poor kids in America, that don't have a Christmas, too?
And can she stop talking about it like we can all afford to do that? To me, when she discusses it, she makes herself sound so much more holier than anyone else. That she is the best.
Which brings me to her next joke: she kept implying that she and Dave were the richest peeps in America--you had to see her doing this because that was funny.
Did anyone believe that up until a couple years ago, she still didn't know the impact of her show or thought of it as a success?
Twenty years, Oprah. Come on!
Shows have come and gone in that time.
Overall, she was good, not as good as ghetto Oprah, but still entertaining and looking fabulous!
First, Dave shortened his monologue and pre-interview jokes to bring on Ms. Winfrey.
She looked fantabulous---does anyone know who made her dress?
It was gorgeous. Brown silk fitted, a-line skirt with a purple sash around her waist AND the best part--underneath the dress was purple tulle. OMGosh it was so cute!
Points to Oprah for really playing up that Purple card.
She kept going on and on about how she never knew there was a feud between them...yeah. right. Oprah, I remember that show when you swore you wouldn't do Dave, don't play us like that.
They spoke about how she sent his son, Harry, his own starter book club books. Cute. They spoke of Oprah lying when she was a child. Cute. Then Oprah pulled out her purple box of jokes and the party started.
Did you see it?
An autographed picture to Dave, of and from Uma Thurman and Oprah.
Hee hee.
And then she annoyed me. She is going to Ethiopia. Again.
I'm all for charity. I'm all for helping the poor. And the poor in Africa. And for African Americans going to Africa and helping. Hello? I'm Black. I'm for it.
Doesn't charity start at home?
She's been there, done that. Can't she help the poor kids in America, that don't have a Christmas, too?
And can she stop talking about it like we can all afford to do that? To me, when she discusses it, she makes herself sound so much more holier than anyone else. That she is the best.
Which brings me to her next joke: she kept implying that she and Dave were the richest peeps in America--you had to see her doing this because that was funny.
Did anyone believe that up until a couple years ago, she still didn't know the impact of her show or thought of it as a success?
Twenty years, Oprah. Come on!
Shows have come and gone in that time.
Overall, she was good, not as good as ghetto Oprah, but still entertaining and looking fabulous!
Conversations with Bev
Last night I had a 2-parter phone conversation with Pecos Girl. It was one long talk, my cell phone said we spoke for 57 minutes; was that correct, Bev?
It didn't feel like it.
What could two girls talk about for that long? Many things.
1. We discussed a male situation she is having. I'll disclose the details for her privacy. It was the usual male problems that you encounter: male doesn't get the hint that is clearly in front of him, male is MIA at most of the times, male does not follow through on 'promises', male is just a male. Men!?!?
Then I had to interject with an intermission so that I could go run before it became really dark outside and to drop off remainder truffles to my apartment manager. I love her.
If she was my age and not managing where I live, I'd think I'd attack her to become my friend. Would that be ethical since she is my apartment manager and collects the rent?
I did that, ran, took a shower, and ate leftovers from the night before.
Then I called Bev back.
2. "13 Going 30" and Jennifer Garner.
As Encore-Love would like to show this movie every night this week. Yes, I have seen the ending at least half the times it has been aired. We talked about it and how much we cannot stand Jennifer. I noted that she annoyed me because in real life, she seems to act just like her character on '13 Going on 30'; which is annoying in the film as well.
Bev told me how she read on Pink, that they induced labor. It's true, Bennifer gave birth to Violet Ann. No offense to any Violets; but they may as well put a pole in her crib now. Violet? I was expecting something more plain; like Emily or Sarah. Jennifer seems like a simple plain chick that wouldn't go naming her child Apple.
3. Males disappointing us on our birthdays or their own.
Bev told me an odd one about how for an Ex's birthday she took him to one of his fave places for Mexican food. When they were through with the meal, he told her it could have been better. WTF?
Since I have a looming birthday, I told her how I have yet to be treated the way I want for a birthday by a male. Meaning it has always been a disappointment. This year, I'm going in very low. VERY LOW. For Incredible that is.
I don't know if Rugby Michael even knows its my birthday. I feel somewhat conceited announcing my own birthday to people. I don't tell unless they ask.
I received a $30 gift certificate, for my birthday, to one of my favorite restaurants. It expires shortly after my birthday. I told Incredible about it. (hint, hint) I placed the gift certificate on my dining table (hint, hint, hint); it is the only thing on my table. He should get it, no?
As Bev and I continued to discuss disappointing birthdays, we pointed out that even hinting is too much. It basically is you planning your own birthday celebration.
With that point well taken, I have taken the certificate and placed it in a drawer. Ball is in his court because honestly, I'd be a wee bit peeved if he took me there for my birthday.
Would that mean that he couldn't think of a plan on his own and what would he plan if the girt certificate never surfaced? From here on out, I am not even mentioning the word birthday or Sambuca.
4. Target. Bev asked me a very philosophical question: Do I admit to people that I shop at Target?
Hmm...yes and no was my answer. All my friends shop there, so there is no shame in this game. When I was younger, I wouldn't dare admit that the jeans my mom bought me were from Tar-jay. That was uncool, back in the day there was no Mossimo, Xhilaration, or Isaac Mizrahi.
Today, I don't even bother looking at the Mizrahi line. I love Isaac as a person--cannot wait for his new show on STYLE. But his target line has got to go. The clothes don't look as if they were cut from fabric correctly, i.e. made to fit. Some of it looks like, like Bev put it, for older women.
I will admit that when the brand name whores who used to work in my office would ask where I got something, it was a low whisper: "target' or just a simple: "the shops".
I don't know why. Now, I think I say it loud and proud that I scored something hot and cute from Target.
"Where did you get those hot shoes?"
"TARGET"
I think there is some pride in announcing that you look trendy, hot, or with it and didn't spend a fortune.
5. Speaking of looking with it, we discussed how we dress it up (according to other people) when the majority of people would look very casual.
For example: the airport and air travel.
Bev wore her gold high heel shoes (from Target) on the plane once and was questioned about it. I never go to the airport looking like drab. NEVER. I see people in jump suits, sweats, jeans, tees, and what sometime looks like their pajamas. I just cannot.
I am casual, but casually fantastic. We're talking scarf, the big sunglasses, heels (of course), and an outfit. There are bars and restaurants at the airport, what if I'm laid over? I don't go to the local bar wearing sweats. I get looks sometimes and rare times, get hit on at the airport. And I do want to arrive in style to wherever I'm heading.
Who wouldn't?
It didn't feel like it.
What could two girls talk about for that long? Many things.
1. We discussed a male situation she is having. I'll disclose the details for her privacy. It was the usual male problems that you encounter: male doesn't get the hint that is clearly in front of him, male is MIA at most of the times, male does not follow through on 'promises', male is just a male. Men!?!?
Then I had to interject with an intermission so that I could go run before it became really dark outside and to drop off remainder truffles to my apartment manager. I love her.
If she was my age and not managing where I live, I'd think I'd attack her to become my friend. Would that be ethical since she is my apartment manager and collects the rent?
I did that, ran, took a shower, and ate leftovers from the night before.
Then I called Bev back.
2. "13 Going 30" and Jennifer Garner.
As Encore-Love would like to show this movie every night this week. Yes, I have seen the ending at least half the times it has been aired. We talked about it and how much we cannot stand Jennifer. I noted that she annoyed me because in real life, she seems to act just like her character on '13 Going on 30'; which is annoying in the film as well.
Bev told me how she read on Pink, that they induced labor. It's true, Bennifer gave birth to Violet Ann. No offense to any Violets; but they may as well put a pole in her crib now. Violet? I was expecting something more plain; like Emily or Sarah. Jennifer seems like a simple plain chick that wouldn't go naming her child Apple.
3. Males disappointing us on our birthdays or their own.
Bev told me an odd one about how for an Ex's birthday she took him to one of his fave places for Mexican food. When they were through with the meal, he told her it could have been better. WTF?
Since I have a looming birthday, I told her how I have yet to be treated the way I want for a birthday by a male. Meaning it has always been a disappointment. This year, I'm going in very low. VERY LOW. For Incredible that is.
I don't know if Rugby Michael even knows its my birthday. I feel somewhat conceited announcing my own birthday to people. I don't tell unless they ask.
I received a $30 gift certificate, for my birthday, to one of my favorite restaurants. It expires shortly after my birthday. I told Incredible about it. (hint, hint) I placed the gift certificate on my dining table (hint, hint, hint); it is the only thing on my table. He should get it, no?
As Bev and I continued to discuss disappointing birthdays, we pointed out that even hinting is too much. It basically is you planning your own birthday celebration.
With that point well taken, I have taken the certificate and placed it in a drawer. Ball is in his court because honestly, I'd be a wee bit peeved if he took me there for my birthday.
Would that mean that he couldn't think of a plan on his own and what would he plan if the girt certificate never surfaced? From here on out, I am not even mentioning the word birthday or Sambuca.
4. Target. Bev asked me a very philosophical question: Do I admit to people that I shop at Target?
Hmm...yes and no was my answer. All my friends shop there, so there is no shame in this game. When I was younger, I wouldn't dare admit that the jeans my mom bought me were from Tar-jay. That was uncool, back in the day there was no Mossimo, Xhilaration, or Isaac Mizrahi.
Today, I don't even bother looking at the Mizrahi line. I love Isaac as a person--cannot wait for his new show on STYLE. But his target line has got to go. The clothes don't look as if they were cut from fabric correctly, i.e. made to fit. Some of it looks like, like Bev put it, for older women.
I will admit that when the brand name whores who used to work in my office would ask where I got something, it was a low whisper: "target' or just a simple: "the shops".
I don't know why. Now, I think I say it loud and proud that I scored something hot and cute from Target.
"Where did you get those hot shoes?"
"TARGET"
I think there is some pride in announcing that you look trendy, hot, or with it and didn't spend a fortune.
5. Speaking of looking with it, we discussed how we dress it up (according to other people) when the majority of people would look very casual.
For example: the airport and air travel.
Bev wore her gold high heel shoes (from Target) on the plane once and was questioned about it. I never go to the airport looking like drab. NEVER. I see people in jump suits, sweats, jeans, tees, and what sometime looks like their pajamas. I just cannot.
I am casual, but casually fantastic. We're talking scarf, the big sunglasses, heels (of course), and an outfit. There are bars and restaurants at the airport, what if I'm laid over? I don't go to the local bar wearing sweats. I get looks sometimes and rare times, get hit on at the airport. And I do want to arrive in style to wherever I'm heading.
Who wouldn't?
Thursday, December 1
David Meet Oprah
OK. I can admit that I have been watching Oprah ever since I was a little girl. Then I dropped off the wagon because I hated her. Now, me and her are tight again.
We may have to loosen the friendship string due to her new format of the show.
What is up with her having three to four different topics/interviews that have nothing to do with the other compiled into one show? WTF, Ops?
Lately, I have been dragging when it comes to watching her show. But I did see her the other day with Jamie Foxx (who I hate and still do, even more so after his interview on Oprah).
Can I say, I just love Ghetto Oprah. Love. Her.
She puts on jeans, and this time she had on one bad ass gold shimmer jacket. Ghetto Oprah says things like, "That is so whack", "Playa", and "Your homies"
Homies.
Oprah said 'homies'. She is more down to Earth when she is Ghetto Oprah. She laughs more. Her hair is curlier. And dare I say, she even looks younger.
Ghetto Oprah in the house!
I will add that the bigger than huge portrait of herself was out of control. Come on Jamie Foxx, what were you thinking? But I guess one conceited person thinks that they know that every person would like a painting of themself that is bigger than big.
I was rolling my eyes that's for sure.
Then he sang. WHY? Why must he have a singing career? Leave that to Madonna and Jennifer Lopez. They are singer/actors that can do both because, oh, wait for it: THEY DON'T HAVE AN OSCAR!
Or do like Gwenyth and Nicole Kidman sing one song. There is no need for an entire album. No need at all. Do you see Denzel busting out with a groove? NO. Halle? NO.
The "Heaven is not the Same" song he sang was good. Way better than the crap single that is on the radio nowadays, I don't even know what its called. Its some 'get in your pants' song and Ludacris raps in the middle of it, which frankly is the best part because it's not Jamie Foxx.
So back to hypocritical Oprah.
Does anyone remember a time when Oprah swore up and down that she would never ever ever be on David Letterman...do you remember?
And how repulsed she was with him? And how he'd make fun of her, her weight yo-yo'ing, and her being the richest person and Oprah not liking it?
Well tonight folks, pigs will fly because Oprah is on David Letterman. I couldn't be more excited. I'm a Letterman girl, cannot stand Jay Leno one bit.
She better behave and kick back and laugh at a joke or two.
But we all know why she caved in: to promote her musical; "The Color Purple" (Why did it take them so long to make a musical out of it?).
Tune in, I'm sure there'll be some good times. Maybe she'll sing, she is promoting a musical, isn't she?
We may have to loosen the friendship string due to her new format of the show.
What is up with her having three to four different topics/interviews that have nothing to do with the other compiled into one show? WTF, Ops?
Lately, I have been dragging when it comes to watching her show. But I did see her the other day with Jamie Foxx (who I hate and still do, even more so after his interview on Oprah).
Can I say, I just love Ghetto Oprah. Love. Her.
She puts on jeans, and this time she had on one bad ass gold shimmer jacket. Ghetto Oprah says things like, "That is so whack", "Playa", and "Your homies"
Homies.
Oprah said 'homies'. She is more down to Earth when she is Ghetto Oprah. She laughs more. Her hair is curlier. And dare I say, she even looks younger.
Ghetto Oprah in the house!
I will add that the bigger than huge portrait of herself was out of control. Come on Jamie Foxx, what were you thinking? But I guess one conceited person thinks that they know that every person would like a painting of themself that is bigger than big.
I was rolling my eyes that's for sure.
Then he sang. WHY? Why must he have a singing career? Leave that to Madonna and Jennifer Lopez. They are singer/actors that can do both because, oh, wait for it: THEY DON'T HAVE AN OSCAR!
Or do like Gwenyth and Nicole Kidman sing one song. There is no need for an entire album. No need at all. Do you see Denzel busting out with a groove? NO. Halle? NO.
The "Heaven is not the Same" song he sang was good. Way better than the crap single that is on the radio nowadays, I don't even know what its called. Its some 'get in your pants' song and Ludacris raps in the middle of it, which frankly is the best part because it's not Jamie Foxx.
So back to hypocritical Oprah.
Does anyone remember a time when Oprah swore up and down that she would never ever ever be on David Letterman...do you remember?
And how repulsed she was with him? And how he'd make fun of her, her weight yo-yo'ing, and her being the richest person and Oprah not liking it?
Well tonight folks, pigs will fly because Oprah is on David Letterman. I couldn't be more excited. I'm a Letterman girl, cannot stand Jay Leno one bit.
She better behave and kick back and laugh at a joke or two.
But we all know why she caved in: to promote her musical; "The Color Purple" (Why did it take them so long to make a musical out of it?).
Tune in, I'm sure there'll be some good times. Maybe she'll sing, she is promoting a musical, isn't she?
Golightly versus Melted Chocolate: Round Two
I think its official I am the Black Martha Stewart. Make your jokes.
Last night I made the below pork recipe accompanied with the mashed sweet potatoes (The ones from last week with the caramelized onions in them. My new fave) and green beans.
Then I made truffles from scratch. They aren't hard to do, but it does involve melting chocolate and you know how I feel about that task.
It is a pain, but it was so much easier than the ganache. If there is a class on how to melt chocolate or something, I need to take that class ASAP. The results are awesome, the task, oy, the task. And the clean-up...let's not even go there.
So the recipe is below the Pork recipe, and being Black Martha, I subbed in a few things because I officially made them for my boss.
She is preggers with a baby girl, so these suckers just had to be pink. And (oh I can see the comments now) I hate, hate OREOS, so you know they just had to go.
Instead of OREOS, I used Vienna Vanilla Creme Filled cookies. Strawberry cream cheese was used instead of the original cream cheese. I used white chocolate bark that I tinted pink w/ red food coloring.
The results are pretty pink truffle balls---oh, and about 100 of them, I don't know where it gets off saying thirty. I guess if you like your balls big.
Yep, I said that.
Enjoy.
PORK CHOPS WITH CRANBERRY, PORT, AND ROSEMARY SAUCE
4 1-inch-thick pork rib chops
2 3/4 teaspoons minced fresh rosemary, divided
2 tablespoons (1/4 stick) butter
3/4 cup low-salt chicken broth
3/4 cup tawny Port
1 cup leftover cranberry sauce
Sprinkle pork chops with salt, pepper, and 1 teaspoon rosemary. Melt butter in heavy large skillet over medium heat until beginning to brown. Add pork chops and cook until browned and cooked through, about 5 minutes per side. Transfer to platter; cover to keep warm. Add broth, Port, and remaining 1 3/4 teaspoons rosemary to same skillet and boil until liquid is slightly reduced, about 4 minutes. Add cranberry sauce; bring to boil, then reduce heat to medium and simmer until sauce is thickened, about 7 minutes. Season sauce with salt and pepper. Spoon sauce over pork chops and serve.
CHOCOLATE TRUFFLES
1 package oreos
8oz. package of cream cheese, softened
vanilla and chocolate bark (comes in bricks)
In a food processor, grind up entire package of oreos.
Slowly add cubes of cream cheese. Mix until dough
forms.
Roll dough into balls (one batch makes approximately
30 truffles), place on parchment paper and chill for
at least one hour.
Melt chocolate bark according to directions. Dip
dough balls into melted chocolate and place on
parchment paper to cool.
Last night I made the below pork recipe accompanied with the mashed sweet potatoes (The ones from last week with the caramelized onions in them. My new fave) and green beans.
Then I made truffles from scratch. They aren't hard to do, but it does involve melting chocolate and you know how I feel about that task.
It is a pain, but it was so much easier than the ganache. If there is a class on how to melt chocolate or something, I need to take that class ASAP. The results are awesome, the task, oy, the task. And the clean-up...let's not even go there.
So the recipe is below the Pork recipe, and being Black Martha, I subbed in a few things because I officially made them for my boss.
She is preggers with a baby girl, so these suckers just had to be pink. And (oh I can see the comments now) I hate, hate OREOS, so you know they just had to go.
Instead of OREOS, I used Vienna Vanilla Creme Filled cookies. Strawberry cream cheese was used instead of the original cream cheese. I used white chocolate bark that I tinted pink w/ red food coloring.
The results are pretty pink truffle balls---oh, and about 100 of them, I don't know where it gets off saying thirty. I guess if you like your balls big.
Yep, I said that.
Enjoy.
PORK CHOPS WITH CRANBERRY, PORT, AND ROSEMARY SAUCE
4 1-inch-thick pork rib chops
2 3/4 teaspoons minced fresh rosemary, divided
2 tablespoons (1/4 stick) butter
3/4 cup low-salt chicken broth
3/4 cup tawny Port
1 cup leftover cranberry sauce
Sprinkle pork chops with salt, pepper, and 1 teaspoon rosemary. Melt butter in heavy large skillet over medium heat until beginning to brown. Add pork chops and cook until browned and cooked through, about 5 minutes per side. Transfer to platter; cover to keep warm. Add broth, Port, and remaining 1 3/4 teaspoons rosemary to same skillet and boil until liquid is slightly reduced, about 4 minutes. Add cranberry sauce; bring to boil, then reduce heat to medium and simmer until sauce is thickened, about 7 minutes. Season sauce with salt and pepper. Spoon sauce over pork chops and serve.
CHOCOLATE TRUFFLES
1 package oreos
8oz. package of cream cheese, softened
vanilla and chocolate bark (comes in bricks)
In a food processor, grind up entire package of oreos.
Slowly add cubes of cream cheese. Mix until dough
forms.
Roll dough into balls (one batch makes approximately
30 truffles), place on parchment paper and chill for
at least one hour.
Melt chocolate bark according to directions. Dip
dough balls into melted chocolate and place on
parchment paper to cool.
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