Move over Oprah (and Martha) there is a new interrupter in town: Isaac Mizrahi.
His show is fun, fun, fun. I like the concept, I love the sketches and answers, I get embarrassed for the people during sidewalk confessions.
He seriously told a girl that her husband needed to buy her a bigger diamond ring!
OUCH!
On Sunday when I was couch-ridden, Andrew Firestone was the guest. For the cooking segment, some Italiana woman started to make pasta from scratch.
Using only flour**, salt, and water she used only her hands--no pasta machine. I was intrigued. The lack of a pasta machine and the pasta attachment for the KitchenAid is the only thing that stood in my way of making pasta. With this little hussies tactics, I was good to go.
Can I say; it was a lot easier done than I expected. I may never buy packaged pasta again. It was so fresh and tasted like pasta--not cardboard--which I never thought my store bought pasta tasted like cardboard before last night.
It was very stress releasing to twist each square into a shell shape twist. Then pop it into the boiling water (much faster this way) and voila: pasta al dente (whatever the heck that means, I just cooked it until the pasta looked like cooked noodles).
I made my own special sauce because I cannot stand marinara sauce. I crushed tomatoes, added tomato paste, basil, tarragon, and garlic. While it simmered, I added chili powder and sugar. Don't make the face because its actually better tasting with that combination.
When the pasta was finished, we topped each our bowls with the sauce and a spoonful of ricotta. Again--I have no idea where one would find ricotta that you can shave? Isn't it too soft for that?
**What the heck is Double Zero Flour? There was none in the store. I have no clue. I used all purpose flour for the entire mixture.
Cavatelli with Fresh Tomato Sauce and Ricotta
1 C double-zero flour
1 C all-purpose flour
1 tsp salt
1/4 C tepid water
1. On a lightly floured wooden board combine both flours in a mound and create a well. Add half of the water and the salt, slowly incorporating more water and salt as needed until dough forms into smooth and elastic ball. Keep adding water until smooth. (More or less water may be required depending on the humidity of the air.)
2. Let the dough relax for 20 minutes. Then, cut the dough in half and flatten each piece. Cut the pieces into 1/2 inch strips. Cut each piece into one inch by length. With your finger or knife flatten each one-inch piece of dough by dragging it slightly so that the dough curves around the finger to form a shell shape.
3. Lightly dust all cavatelli pieces with flour. Boil in salted water until al dente.
4. When done, strain and pour tomato sauce shave ricotta on top.
Tuesday, January 31
Monday, January 30
Chuy's versus Golightly. Again and Again and...
Another trip to Chuy's that ended not so good. Again.
I know y'all wonder why I keep going back there, I wonder that same question all the time.
Friday night my friend wanted to go so badly and noted that we had not been since March of last year, so...I thought it would be different. It was--this time the service was excellent. The food? Oh, goodness, how can I write about it without throwing it back up?
It started at Toulouse. A quaint, new French bistro. It's complete with a red awning patio scattered wiht bistro tables and chairs. It is so very French.
Lately, I've been loving anything that has to do with France, a oui too much: my new beret (from Target), French fries, the Bachelor, champagne, and cheese. The latter is what started the trouble.
I met V and a Texas Techie alum for happy hour. I started out with a Green Dragon. That's champagne and midori. Oh and let me preface it with that day I chose to shop instead of eat lunch.
We ordered calamari and the goat cheese tart. Then I had my second Green Dragon. Next, we ordered pommes frites.
I cannot remember if I had the third Green Dragon, or not, let's say I did and if I did, I drank it really fast. This is when Toxic showed up so we could walk down to Chuy's.
France is not next to Mexico and you should never mix the two. Two different styles of cheeses---do I need to say more?
Appararently, I do.
I ate the shrimp taquitos. Why? I don't know. It sounded so good at the time, I imagine.
In my sober state, I would never mess with two countries and two different styles of cheese in my stomach--plus the shrimp.
Can you imagine what it was like down there in the belly?
Chaotic.
Hence bringing on the diet in full force. That's all it took, one night of mixing two countries that don't border each other had me spending the next day, bawling and moaning about it. And not eating. Best. Diet. Ever.
This also led me to the worst best television on a Saturday. I was glued to HGTV, STYLE, and E! like it was no ones's business. Have you seen the reality show with Lisa Loeb?
HELLO!
It's been ten years and that girl still looks the same. Same glasses, same hair cut, same, same, same. And she flashes the camera. I have got to find out when this normally airs because this week, she takes off her skirt. World--Lisa Loeb wears thongs.
That night, sick as a dog, Incredible kept me company and we watched three different Law & Orders in a row. The regular, Criminal Intent, and SVU. By the end of the night, I was solving mysteries such as how to faux texture your walls.
Somehow I survived. Don't know how. But I did. Naturally, I blame Chuy's.
I know y'all wonder why I keep going back there, I wonder that same question all the time.
Friday night my friend wanted to go so badly and noted that we had not been since March of last year, so...I thought it would be different. It was--this time the service was excellent. The food? Oh, goodness, how can I write about it without throwing it back up?
It started at Toulouse. A quaint, new French bistro. It's complete with a red awning patio scattered wiht bistro tables and chairs. It is so very French.
Lately, I've been loving anything that has to do with France, a oui too much: my new beret (from Target), French fries, the Bachelor, champagne, and cheese. The latter is what started the trouble.
I met V and a Texas Techie alum for happy hour. I started out with a Green Dragon. That's champagne and midori. Oh and let me preface it with that day I chose to shop instead of eat lunch.
We ordered calamari and the goat cheese tart. Then I had my second Green Dragon. Next, we ordered pommes frites.
I cannot remember if I had the third Green Dragon, or not, let's say I did and if I did, I drank it really fast. This is when Toxic showed up so we could walk down to Chuy's.
France is not next to Mexico and you should never mix the two. Two different styles of cheeses---do I need to say more?
Appararently, I do.
I ate the shrimp taquitos. Why? I don't know. It sounded so good at the time, I imagine.
In my sober state, I would never mess with two countries and two different styles of cheese in my stomach--plus the shrimp.
Can you imagine what it was like down there in the belly?
Chaotic.
Hence bringing on the diet in full force. That's all it took, one night of mixing two countries that don't border each other had me spending the next day, bawling and moaning about it. And not eating. Best. Diet. Ever.
This also led me to the worst best television on a Saturday. I was glued to HGTV, STYLE, and E! like it was no ones's business. Have you seen the reality show with Lisa Loeb?
HELLO!
It's been ten years and that girl still looks the same. Same glasses, same hair cut, same, same, same. And she flashes the camera. I have got to find out when this normally airs because this week, she takes off her skirt. World--Lisa Loeb wears thongs.
That night, sick as a dog, Incredible kept me company and we watched three different Law & Orders in a row. The regular, Criminal Intent, and SVU. By the end of the night, I was solving mysteries such as how to faux texture your walls.
Somehow I survived. Don't know how. But I did. Naturally, I blame Chuy's.
Wednesday, January 25
I'm Sure You Have a Big Heart, but I'm Looking at Your Big (BLEEP)
Reasons I need to stop going to McDonald's.
#1. They just gave me a free McFlurry and asked how the job is today.
Let's note, the woman that asked me has been my drive through lady for the past couple of weeks. The fact that I can say I have a 'drive through lady' is reason enough for me to stop.
And when I declined the free McFlurry (see I have some will power); my lady insisted that I take it. She said I could put in the freezer for a snack later.
Oh. Gosh.
And, yes they know where I work.
One time, there was a long line and I was stuck in front of the first window, where you pay before getting your food. Naturally, I had nothing better to do than have a conversation with my drive through lady. I bet that made her day.
Wouldn't you be sick of talking french fries and BigMac all day, too?
Shoot, I get excited when the FedEx man has more than a minute to spare and we discuss the weather.
#2 Speaking of the first window: the guy in the pay window got the balls today to ask me for my number!
Holy crap, time to find a new McDonald's. Hope my drive through lady doesn't take it personally. You know how I love McDonald's; but the people that work there...Different story.
Now, don't hate, but I would never give him my number.
If I had met him in a bar or somewhere else and he was not in uniform and we hit if off. And later I found out he worked at McDonald's---then he'd have a chance. Honestly, that would be like a bonus. Free french fries? Come. On.
But while I am in the drive through and you are taking my money--don't ask me for my number. Please. That's just wrong. What else was I to say?
I see this as the equivalent of the men who drive by you and think they have a right to stop and 'holla' at you, or even better, the men who drive by you while you are in your car. They slow down and make it obvious they are interested---okay, am I to pull over onto the shoulder of the highway, so we can hook up?
Come. On.
Can we say too lazy to go out and get some tail?
Then there was the look of this drive through window man---he had a grill. YEP YEP. Did I predict it or what?
Hell to the no way.
Just give me my food and thanks for giving me a push to start the diet. Tomorrow.
#1. They just gave me a free McFlurry and asked how the job is today.
Let's note, the woman that asked me has been my drive through lady for the past couple of weeks. The fact that I can say I have a 'drive through lady' is reason enough for me to stop.
And when I declined the free McFlurry (see I have some will power); my lady insisted that I take it. She said I could put in the freezer for a snack later.
Oh. Gosh.
And, yes they know where I work.
One time, there was a long line and I was stuck in front of the first window, where you pay before getting your food. Naturally, I had nothing better to do than have a conversation with my drive through lady. I bet that made her day.
Wouldn't you be sick of talking french fries and BigMac all day, too?
Shoot, I get excited when the FedEx man has more than a minute to spare and we discuss the weather.
#2 Speaking of the first window: the guy in the pay window got the balls today to ask me for my number!
Holy crap, time to find a new McDonald's. Hope my drive through lady doesn't take it personally. You know how I love McDonald's; but the people that work there...Different story.
Now, don't hate, but I would never give him my number.
If I had met him in a bar or somewhere else and he was not in uniform and we hit if off. And later I found out he worked at McDonald's---then he'd have a chance. Honestly, that would be like a bonus. Free french fries? Come. On.
But while I am in the drive through and you are taking my money--don't ask me for my number. Please. That's just wrong. What else was I to say?
I see this as the equivalent of the men who drive by you and think they have a right to stop and 'holla' at you, or even better, the men who drive by you while you are in your car. They slow down and make it obvious they are interested---okay, am I to pull over onto the shoulder of the highway, so we can hook up?
Come. On.
Can we say too lazy to go out and get some tail?
Then there was the look of this drive through window man---he had a grill. YEP YEP. Did I predict it or what?
Hell to the no way.
Just give me my food and thanks for giving me a push to start the diet. Tomorrow.
Tuesday, January 24
Moving On Up or Down
I've come to that decision again: it's so time to move.
Not Boston, yet. Just apartments.
My 668 square foot apartment is getting on my nerves.
I'll try to explain:
I live in a dual level apartment. On the noisiest street, due to a restaurant directly across from my windows. Also next to the noisiest couple. Not bedroom noises loud, but I believe they watch television with sound coming through their subwoofers. All. The. Time.
My dual level boasts a living area and kitchen on the first floor. The living area is very narrow. It's 8 feet across and 17 feet long. Upstairs is my bedroom and bathroom. Their size does not bother me.
But the fact that they are upstairs does. Lately, I've tripped at least three times a week on those stairs. Also, the electricity to warm up my downstairs is ridiculous. I have to place the temperature on 80 degrees just to feel some warmth below; while the upstairs is boiling.
I don't have a television upstairs and my wonderful oven is downstairs. All my living happens downstairs.
Then there is the rent.
Holy crap, I cannot even admit to what I pay to live where I live. It's worth it because I'm near all the bars and restaurants--oh and have I mentioned I am two blocks from Incredible. That makes dating him a whole lot easier. It's a less than 5 minute walk. There are no excuses for either of us for not going to the other's apartment.
Back to the rent. After doing some research, I realized I pay a hella lot more just because I have a dual level apartment. Not because of the square feet, but because of the stairs. No sense.
I've decided to downgrade. I'm not moving buildings, just apartments. Hopefully...
As I am easy when it comes to new digs and love anything where I can rearrange furniture--showing me apartments is probably a leasing agent's best day ever. Word.
Yesterday, I had a lunch appointment with one of the girls in my office.
The first apartment she showed me was a classic studio. One big huge room. It faced the parking garage...yuck!
The second one she showed me was also a classic studio but this one had a wee bit of a zig zag to its floorplan. Also the kitchen and bathroom (HUGE) had hardwood floors.
My question was then: why the F doesn't my apartment have hardwood and I pay $200 more than this studio?
Each of these studios were bigger than my apartment. This one faced our building's lap pool and courtyard. I just cannot wrap my decorating mind for a one room apartment. Even if it has hardwood floors. Then Leasing Agent showed me how to arrange furniture to make it look ever so cute. Hmmm...
Then she asked me what my price ceiling was. I told her.
She announced that she has a ton more she can show me. A ton more? Less expensive than my dual level, oh gosh...I immediately approved my two hour lunch away from the office and told her to show me the way!
Each apartment we viewed, I found something wrong with it. I'm also picky like you would not believe.
Then she took me to my current floor, but around the corner--I've never been around the corner on my floor before...the hallway is much more nicer around the corner. That was clue number one. Then she opened the door to the empty apartment, I wanted to back out.
It was a dual level.
WTF?!?!
Leasing Agent lured me back with a promise that I will love it.
Uhm hmm.
The kitchen: too cute, U-shaped, brand spanking new appliances, tucked away in its own corner.
Half a bathroom: slightly bigger than my one full bathroom and it's downstairs across from the kitchen. A bathroom all to my guests?!? At this point I'm half way sold, naturally...
Living/Dining area: twice the size that I have now and not narrow in any means. Includes long built in shelving. A closet as long as one of the walls. Two big windows that face, oh my goodness, wait for it, are you ready...
Really, ready??
They face downtown!
Downtown views--holy crap.
It's so time for a small story: Downtown Dallas' skyline is my favorite. I don't know why. I cannot explain it. Sometimes I will drive out of the way just to pass the skyline. I love driving back into the city at night (when coming in from Austin, San Antonio, or Waco--and yes, I go to Waco). I love it. It makes me happy.
And my current apartment faces an upscale, older clientele restaurant and gym.
The upstairs is so not even important any more. Just tell me what the rent is. It's cheaper than my current rent by $85. I'm ready to move!
Can you believe that they will make me pay $300 deposit, just to move three doors around the corner? HUH?!? Does that make sense? Maybe it does, I don't know. I already live there, it makes no sense.
Should I start a fund now?
If I wait maybe it'll still be vacant when our bonuses (cross your fingers that the company still gives us that) come through in March.
Or is anyone familiar with negotiating with apartment complexes?
Incredible says I can, but I don't know how--what would I say?
Not Boston, yet. Just apartments.
My 668 square foot apartment is getting on my nerves.
I'll try to explain:
I live in a dual level apartment. On the noisiest street, due to a restaurant directly across from my windows. Also next to the noisiest couple. Not bedroom noises loud, but I believe they watch television with sound coming through their subwoofers. All. The. Time.
My dual level boasts a living area and kitchen on the first floor. The living area is very narrow. It's 8 feet across and 17 feet long. Upstairs is my bedroom and bathroom. Their size does not bother me.
But the fact that they are upstairs does. Lately, I've tripped at least three times a week on those stairs. Also, the electricity to warm up my downstairs is ridiculous. I have to place the temperature on 80 degrees just to feel some warmth below; while the upstairs is boiling.
I don't have a television upstairs and my wonderful oven is downstairs. All my living happens downstairs.
Then there is the rent.
Holy crap, I cannot even admit to what I pay to live where I live. It's worth it because I'm near all the bars and restaurants--oh and have I mentioned I am two blocks from Incredible. That makes dating him a whole lot easier. It's a less than 5 minute walk. There are no excuses for either of us for not going to the other's apartment.
Back to the rent. After doing some research, I realized I pay a hella lot more just because I have a dual level apartment. Not because of the square feet, but because of the stairs. No sense.
I've decided to downgrade. I'm not moving buildings, just apartments. Hopefully...
As I am easy when it comes to new digs and love anything where I can rearrange furniture--showing me apartments is probably a leasing agent's best day ever. Word.
Yesterday, I had a lunch appointment with one of the girls in my office.
The first apartment she showed me was a classic studio. One big huge room. It faced the parking garage...yuck!
The second one she showed me was also a classic studio but this one had a wee bit of a zig zag to its floorplan. Also the kitchen and bathroom (HUGE) had hardwood floors.
My question was then: why the F doesn't my apartment have hardwood and I pay $200 more than this studio?
Each of these studios were bigger than my apartment. This one faced our building's lap pool and courtyard. I just cannot wrap my decorating mind for a one room apartment. Even if it has hardwood floors. Then Leasing Agent showed me how to arrange furniture to make it look ever so cute. Hmmm...
Then she asked me what my price ceiling was. I told her.
She announced that she has a ton more she can show me. A ton more? Less expensive than my dual level, oh gosh...I immediately approved my two hour lunch away from the office and told her to show me the way!
Each apartment we viewed, I found something wrong with it. I'm also picky like you would not believe.
Then she took me to my current floor, but around the corner--I've never been around the corner on my floor before...the hallway is much more nicer around the corner. That was clue number one. Then she opened the door to the empty apartment, I wanted to back out.
It was a dual level.
WTF?!?!
Leasing Agent lured me back with a promise that I will love it.
Uhm hmm.
The kitchen: too cute, U-shaped, brand spanking new appliances, tucked away in its own corner.
Half a bathroom: slightly bigger than my one full bathroom and it's downstairs across from the kitchen. A bathroom all to my guests?!? At this point I'm half way sold, naturally...
Living/Dining area: twice the size that I have now and not narrow in any means. Includes long built in shelving. A closet as long as one of the walls. Two big windows that face, oh my goodness, wait for it, are you ready...
Really, ready??
They face downtown!
Downtown views--holy crap.
It's so time for a small story: Downtown Dallas' skyline is my favorite. I don't know why. I cannot explain it. Sometimes I will drive out of the way just to pass the skyline. I love driving back into the city at night (when coming in from Austin, San Antonio, or Waco--and yes, I go to Waco). I love it. It makes me happy.
And my current apartment faces an upscale, older clientele restaurant and gym.
The upstairs is so not even important any more. Just tell me what the rent is. It's cheaper than my current rent by $85. I'm ready to move!
Can you believe that they will make me pay $300 deposit, just to move three doors around the corner? HUH?!? Does that make sense? Maybe it does, I don't know. I already live there, it makes no sense.
Should I start a fund now?
If I wait maybe it'll still be vacant when our bonuses (cross your fingers that the company still gives us that) come through in March.
Or is anyone familiar with negotiating with apartment complexes?
Incredible says I can, but I don't know how--what would I say?
Thursday, January 19
It was so g-g-g-g-g-gay
From Zulema's gold eyeshadow. Emmet's hot pink polyester shirt. Tim doing the robot on skates. The choo-choo line.
It was gay to the wall last night on Project Runway.
This must've been the most boring assignment ever: design a ice skating outfit for Sasha Cohen.
But before that last season's Rob all dressed up in a US Postal worker outfit delivered the outfits that each designer had to wear to go see what the assignment was.
I'm sure on paper this looked exciting. As Rob delivered each package and received the "am I supposed to know who you are" responses from the designers, I just gagged.
Come on. We all know they watched the first season. And Rob doesn't look that much different.
He was welcomed with as much excitement as if Aunt Flo was in town.
Oh, you, again. OK.
It was like the wet blanket welcome and Emmet didn't even know who Robert was...oh, gosh.
And I'm sorry but I so think Zulema knew what the assignment was way ahead of time. Who the heck puts on that much gold eyeshadow in the middle of the day? WHO?
All at the skating rink they learn the assignment and things get underway.
I am so sorry, but Santino has got to go, like yesterday. His costume was so UGLY--a Phoenix rising from the flames?!?! Huh...and could you put more tacky shredded pieces of fabric on it? When your model says, "stop"; I think you should listen.
Andrae--what can we say? I heart him. His over the top dramatics for everything crack me up. He needs to be in the final three just for that reason and his bright day-glo running shorts.
To speed this along: Kara questions her design, Chloe is on a roll in her own world, Daniel V. is mastering his in his oh so cute way, Zulema is creating an outfit when described sounds like the ice world has been there-done that, Nick--well I don't know what he was up to--laying low, I guess; and Santino is in the back corner doing an awful impersonation of Michael Kors.
Can someone make him SHUT UP, already. Diana's mousy voice is gone and now its been replaced with his booming "I rule the World" voice.
UGH
At the end of it all: The panel dislike Santino's creation and think that Emmet's is an out of date design. Since this is television Santino is safe, once again.
Zulema wins. Because we all knew that from the beginning. The gold eye shadow told us so.
It was gay to the wall last night on Project Runway.
This must've been the most boring assignment ever: design a ice skating outfit for Sasha Cohen.
But before that last season's Rob all dressed up in a US Postal worker outfit delivered the outfits that each designer had to wear to go see what the assignment was.
I'm sure on paper this looked exciting. As Rob delivered each package and received the "am I supposed to know who you are" responses from the designers, I just gagged.
Come on. We all know they watched the first season. And Rob doesn't look that much different.
He was welcomed with as much excitement as if Aunt Flo was in town.
Oh, you, again. OK.
It was like the wet blanket welcome and Emmet didn't even know who Robert was...oh, gosh.
And I'm sorry but I so think Zulema knew what the assignment was way ahead of time. Who the heck puts on that much gold eyeshadow in the middle of the day? WHO?
All at the skating rink they learn the assignment and things get underway.
I am so sorry, but Santino has got to go, like yesterday. His costume was so UGLY--a Phoenix rising from the flames?!?! Huh...and could you put more tacky shredded pieces of fabric on it? When your model says, "stop"; I think you should listen.
Andrae--what can we say? I heart him. His over the top dramatics for everything crack me up. He needs to be in the final three just for that reason and his bright day-glo running shorts.
To speed this along: Kara questions her design, Chloe is on a roll in her own world, Daniel V. is mastering his in his oh so cute way, Zulema is creating an outfit when described sounds like the ice world has been there-done that, Nick--well I don't know what he was up to--laying low, I guess; and Santino is in the back corner doing an awful impersonation of Michael Kors.
Can someone make him SHUT UP, already. Diana's mousy voice is gone and now its been replaced with his booming "I rule the World" voice.
UGH
At the end of it all: The panel dislike Santino's creation and think that Emmet's is an out of date design. Since this is television Santino is safe, once again.
Zulema wins. Because we all knew that from the beginning. The gold eye shadow told us so.
My Uterus Won't Shut Up
Memo to the Womb:
Re: That time of the month
Uterus:
I've done all I can. I give up. I fed you the salty french fries. I ate the cookie dough. I tried to medicate you with Tylenol.
I soothed you with the heated patch. I rubbed you. What the f more do you want? If you don't simmer it down in there, I'm taking a hot iron to you.
I've done my end of the bargain, it's time you did yours. I hate that it came down to threatening you.
Thanks.
Re: That time of the month
Uterus:
I've done all I can. I give up. I fed you the salty french fries. I ate the cookie dough. I tried to medicate you with Tylenol.
I soothed you with the heated patch. I rubbed you. What the f more do you want? If you don't simmer it down in there, I'm taking a hot iron to you.
I've done my end of the bargain, it's time you did yours. I hate that it came down to threatening you.
Thanks.
Wednesday, January 18
I'm Lovin' It
I got a buddy at work. Only recently have we noticed how much we have in common with one another. The majority of it is food.
What can I say?
We eat like crazy when she comes to town. I need to open a special bank account for our adventures. Our favorite place: McDonald's.
This is how it works when she is town:
Day 1: She'll call me before I come to work and put in her order for a McBreakfast. --Not to worry I am not her gofer. The hotel she has to stay at is in our office building; so her commute is an elevator ride and I pass about five McDonald's on the way into work.
Day 1, Lunch: We hit the Thai restaurant around the corner.
Day 1, Afternoon: We make a McDonald's run, she gets a milkshake and I get a McFlurry.
Day 2: Repeat
Sometimes we vary it, as in we go to a different Thai restaurant around the corner.
Amazingly, there is more than one in the office neighborhood.
This morning she called me. She cancelled McBreakfast because she had a surprise for me.
All chirpy I come into work expecting a full on breakfast waiting for me...nope. She told me that the surprise is happening during lunch.
WTF?
So I just passed McDonald's and breakfast up? Couldn't she have told me, in case I was starving--which I was.
I let it go. Because I can take early lunches now---HA HA HA.
We left at 11:30. We drove to Plano. I rarely do that, so this better be good. It was:
MCDONALD'S
6220 W. Park Blvd., Plano, 972-250-2349
Why it glows: Gas flames in back-to-back fireplaces with books artfully arranged over the mantels reflect off five overhead chandeliers, warm wood paneling and brass fixtures.
Chandeliers? Wood paneling? At McDonald's...
Does your Mickey D's have that?
I have never, in my life, seen such a place so grand.
The McDonald's in my hood has club leather chairs and I thought that was high style; but in my hood, you can kind of expect that sort of thing. But it cannot hold a fire to the one in Plano. It was so warm and cozy. They should serve the fries on china. Seriously. It was indeed a good surprise. In hindsight it was worth skipping breakfast for it.
I want to go everyday.
Yeah, the bikini diet is never gonna happen.
What can I say?
We eat like crazy when she comes to town. I need to open a special bank account for our adventures. Our favorite place: McDonald's.
This is how it works when she is town:
Day 1: She'll call me before I come to work and put in her order for a McBreakfast. --Not to worry I am not her gofer. The hotel she has to stay at is in our office building; so her commute is an elevator ride and I pass about five McDonald's on the way into work.
Day 1, Lunch: We hit the Thai restaurant around the corner.
Day 1, Afternoon: We make a McDonald's run, she gets a milkshake and I get a McFlurry.
Day 2: Repeat
Sometimes we vary it, as in we go to a different Thai restaurant around the corner.
Amazingly, there is more than one in the office neighborhood.
This morning she called me. She cancelled McBreakfast because she had a surprise for me.
All chirpy I come into work expecting a full on breakfast waiting for me...nope. She told me that the surprise is happening during lunch.
WTF?
So I just passed McDonald's and breakfast up? Couldn't she have told me, in case I was starving--which I was.
I let it go. Because I can take early lunches now---HA HA HA.
We left at 11:30. We drove to Plano. I rarely do that, so this better be good. It was:
MCDONALD'S
6220 W. Park Blvd., Plano, 972-250-2349
Why it glows: Gas flames in back-to-back fireplaces with books artfully arranged over the mantels reflect off five overhead chandeliers, warm wood paneling and brass fixtures.
Chandeliers? Wood paneling? At McDonald's...
Does your Mickey D's have that?
I have never, in my life, seen such a place so grand.
The McDonald's in my hood has club leather chairs and I thought that was high style; but in my hood, you can kind of expect that sort of thing. But it cannot hold a fire to the one in Plano. It was so warm and cozy. They should serve the fries on china. Seriously. It was indeed a good surprise. In hindsight it was worth skipping breakfast for it.
I want to go everyday.
Yeah, the bikini diet is never gonna happen.
Tuesday, January 17
Voy a México
In forty days and 39 nights. I cannot wait.
Each time I think about it, I cannot sit still. I have not been on a real vacation since college freshman year. Oh. Yeah.
Every other trip I have been on has been for work or was work adjacent. Those do not count. Visiting Phoenix to see the family, sure as heck doesn't count either.
This is a real vacation. No family. And a week in a foreign country. A week!!
Here's the scoopage: a group of eight girls are all going. We rented a house for the week. The house comes with a chef that will cook for us on any given morning, afternoon, or night that we ask pretty por favor. It is half an hour from Cancun; so we won't be bothered with those tourists.
It's a week to sit on the beach, read trashy novels, play cards, do nothing, and get to know each other.
I only know one other person on the trip. Never met the other six girls. And I have only known the one girl for less than a year--we're not best buddies. This should be fun. This would usually bother me, but I'm game.
I also have to endure the pain of the passport process. UGH. I will not take my drivers license into that country ever again. We all know what happened to the last one. There is already one faux Golightly somewhere near and around Nogales. The country doesn't need two. And I am not going through the Hell of getting another one issued. Been there. Done that.
I plan on packing the smallest bag ever. Think weekend stay size. Uh-huh. Minimalism is a must. I don't want to be weighed down with too much stuff or the task of packing it all to leave.
I want to be able to toss it in the bag and adios! I'm thinking sunglasses, bikini, towel, sarong, flip flops, 2 tee shirts, 2 tank tops, cargo shorts, skirt, the outfit I wear on the plane (going and returning), and one BIG, HUGE, hat.
Before bikini I so need to stick to my fitness/diet routine. I don't know why I can't find the motivation now especially with this looming trip 40 days away. And can I mention how I cannot stop eating? Damn it, Christmas! I discovered Panda Express and rediscovered the DQ Country Basket over the Holidays.
I have never owned a bikini in my life. It is my goal for the trip to Mexico. Must. Own. One. Before getting on the plane.
The only other two items on the list I need to purchase are the cargo shorts and the colossal hat. Everything else I already own.
That's the other thing I don't want to be spending a lot just to get there. The least dollar amount spent on stuff other than the plane ticket, the better.
I Cannot Wait...
Each time I think about it, I cannot sit still. I have not been on a real vacation since college freshman year. Oh. Yeah.
Every other trip I have been on has been for work or was work adjacent. Those do not count. Visiting Phoenix to see the family, sure as heck doesn't count either.
This is a real vacation. No family. And a week in a foreign country. A week!!
Here's the scoopage: a group of eight girls are all going. We rented a house for the week. The house comes with a chef that will cook for us on any given morning, afternoon, or night that we ask pretty por favor. It is half an hour from Cancun; so we won't be bothered with those tourists.
It's a week to sit on the beach, read trashy novels, play cards, do nothing, and get to know each other.
I only know one other person on the trip. Never met the other six girls. And I have only known the one girl for less than a year--we're not best buddies. This should be fun. This would usually bother me, but I'm game.
I also have to endure the pain of the passport process. UGH. I will not take my drivers license into that country ever again. We all know what happened to the last one. There is already one faux Golightly somewhere near and around Nogales. The country doesn't need two. And I am not going through the Hell of getting another one issued. Been there. Done that.
I plan on packing the smallest bag ever. Think weekend stay size. Uh-huh. Minimalism is a must. I don't want to be weighed down with too much stuff or the task of packing it all to leave.
I want to be able to toss it in the bag and adios! I'm thinking sunglasses, bikini, towel, sarong, flip flops, 2 tee shirts, 2 tank tops, cargo shorts, skirt, the outfit I wear on the plane (going and returning), and one BIG, HUGE, hat.
Before bikini I so need to stick to my fitness/diet routine. I don't know why I can't find the motivation now especially with this looming trip 40 days away. And can I mention how I cannot stop eating? Damn it, Christmas! I discovered Panda Express and rediscovered the DQ Country Basket over the Holidays.
I have never owned a bikini in my life. It is my goal for the trip to Mexico. Must. Own. One. Before getting on the plane.
The only other two items on the list I need to purchase are the cargo shorts and the colossal hat. Everything else I already own.
That's the other thing I don't want to be spending a lot just to get there. The least dollar amount spent on stuff other than the plane ticket, the better.
I Cannot Wait...
A Recap of Last Night
Cooked. Ran. Ate. Showered. Slept.
There you have it.
I missed "24". I missed the "Golden Globes". I missed "The Bachelor". I missed catching up with friends.
I swear I'll try tonight.
There you have it.
I missed "24". I missed the "Golden Globes". I missed "The Bachelor". I missed catching up with friends.
I swear I'll try tonight.
Monday, January 16
Back Bay of Pigs y Cubanara
Before I let you in on the Boston trip and all it had to offer, I have to share the major drama bombed that happened on Friday.
See, here at my company when a person travels on the company dime, there is a process.
I submit my travel request. It is then sent to my manager. Our travel agency calls and buys my ticket and/or hotel. Manager approves request.
In that order.
Doesn't something up there seem out of order?
Uhm hmm. Ticket it bought and paid for before the request is approved. All the times I have traveled for the company, never, ever has this been a problem.
Until Friday.
Because. No. Manager. On duty.
Where this was a delight for me before, Friday it was Hell.
You all know how I have no manager (she's on maternity leave) and with all the recent lay offs, everyone above her in my department is gone.
The next person in chain of command is the company's CEO.
I have been taking the initiative and approving my own vacations and managing my own work. I don't have approval rights for travel requests.
My request has been sitting in my manager's email inbox. The one on maternity leave. UHM...
My trip was postponed due to that upset. I was so pissed. I was thisclose to telling the woman in charge of requests approvals to just call the CEO and get it approved, what better things did he have to do on a Friday?
I brushed it off and went to lunch with the sales team (Group A). Little did I know that my maternity leave manager was meeting us, too.
She has a Blackberry connected to her work email. So with a slight of suggestion in retelling her the drama...VOILA: trip back on.
To the East coast I went.
Holy Moses was it cold! I am an odd one and love, love cold weather. I prefer the weather to reflect what season we are in. Seriously, 80 degrees in January? Who are you kidding, Texas?
I stayed at the Beacon Hill Hotel. It was cozy and okay. As soon as I nestled in my bed, Angel Eyes was starting on TNT. Holla!
At 10:30 AM our Hostess was greeting us for a walking tour that would end at our company's office. Most people would cringe at walking in twenty eight degree weather, not I. Scarfed up and ready, I was down in the lobby at 10:15.
Hostess was there. Before this moment, I have only known this woman from her emails and her reputation, which she was known to be great, very business like, but everyone loves her. Her emails are very to the point and boderline demanding. My picture of her in my head was a woman in her late thirties.
WRONG.
She was my age and the cutest ever. We clicked immediately. Over my ever so cute pink sneakers. And pink scarf to match. And her pink Burberry trench coat. Uh huh. They do it in style, in Beantown.
We headed out and about in Beacon Hill. We stopped and ate at 75 Chestnut. I had the fish and chips. Yum, yum, yummy.
We then continued on to the Freedom Trail. Talk about a ton of historical sites--Paul Revere's house, the Boston Massacre site, Bunker Hill, and the list goes on and on.
After that, I was fired up for some more but that's when we ended at the offices.
My current office is a tad bit out of date compared to the bright and shiny offices in Boston. Unless it was part of their master plan and they shined it all up for us before we came to visit.
The offices are nice.
They looked like those type of offices you see on a new hip sitcom. Flat panel televisions, brightly colored walls, and views of the city to kill.
Then it was time to look at some different neighborhoods. For living choices. This is my downfall.
I love scavenging for a new place to live. I love looking at different floorplans and configuring my furniture into. I love house hunting. I love moving. I love the feeling of a new place for all my furniture. A new address is grand for me.
It's fun for me.
Not for everyone else that was on the trip. Boy, were we with a complaining crowd. Number one complaint: Rent and teeny tiny apartments.
Most of these complaints came from the significant others within the group; not my fellow co-workers. Yes, we were allowed to invite a significant other.
To me, they spoiled the trip more so than anything. Not just with their questions, but their needs to be alone with their corresponding significant other.
Come on, don't you get enough couple time when you are in your prospective towns?
Ugh--this drew me and Hostess closer together. Sadly, this was my master plan...
Let me explain. You know when you meet someone and you just click? You know the two of you will make good friends and get along well. As adults we are passed the sand box age and it takes work--explicit and conspirical work, so that you don't look like a lesbian hitting on that person. It is work making new friends while an adult.
With the significant others complaining and me bustling up with energy to keep going, Hostess came to a decision that we needed to split up and re-meet for dinner.
Go figure, only me and another girl (who was also the only other solo person on the trip) continued on the real estate portion of the day.
Yes, the rent is high and space is limited. Hostess told us some tricks to get around all that.
The day ended with dinner. Khao Sarn was delicious. It boasts some interesting yummy Thai food. Which then lent some complaints from the group, once again.
OH MY GAWD.
I'd pay someone to rid me of these people and their husbands at this point.
Poor Hostess could not catch a break and you could see it in her face.
After, some went on their way and Hostess asked us what we had planned for tomorrow (Sunday). Me, the artful researcher quipped up that I was wanting to find a good brunch place.
Then the bells chimed in Friendship land and she invited me to brunch with her and her friend.
Hallelujah.
Then the bells chimed once more, once the others left the conversation and bar, she invited me to come stay at her place, if I wanted.
I was reluctant at first because as we all know, Golightly loves a hotel stay. Then the offer got warmer as she went on and said how she'll introduce me to her friends and her husband's friends. Then it got smoking hot, when she disclosed that her husband is Cuban and his friends are hot.
Muy Caliente is what she said.
I was packed and ready in ten minutes short.
Her place was a dream. Seriously, I don't know what Broker found their apartment for them, but I need the number (and their dual income). They lived in an 'hood called Back Bay.
How to describe her husband? He is a boastful, proud immigrant.
He is very, very Cuban and is not ashamed to tell you. His whole family was at their house when we got there.
Brothers (hot), sisters, Aunts, and cousins. It was a circus. I was already missing the hotel.
Then soon I found out that not a one of them was staying there either, whoo, thank goodness for that.
Hostess is probably the whitest girl on the planet. Just to see her in this Latin-dynamic was entertainment enough. She'd roll her eyes at his siters, they'd roll their eyes at her. She'd back talk the mom, and the mom would back talk her. It was funny.
We all went out to some bar. I say some bar because I don't know the name. We had to take the subway to her friends house where Golightly drank a wee bit too much before hitting some bar.
Where the Boston Boys are HOT.
But I did miss Incredible, awww.....
The next day was brunch and football. We had fun making fun of the complainers and party poopers from the day before. Hostess' Husband asked us what we wanted for dinner. Just as FOOD Network's "Everyday Italian" was starting, I whispered 'carbonara'. Neither one had heard of it. Carbonara is my fave pasta dish ever. You have to brave the semi cooked eggs to enjoy it. They were game.
Hostess, her Husband, and I all went to the market. It was like three peas in a pod.
And I cooked dinner. Hostess' Husband re-named the dish, Cubanara because he said I'm Cuban now.
Doesn't it take a lot more than that....like, let's say one of his brothers?
See, here at my company when a person travels on the company dime, there is a process.
I submit my travel request. It is then sent to my manager. Our travel agency calls and buys my ticket and/or hotel. Manager approves request.
In that order.
Doesn't something up there seem out of order?
Uhm hmm. Ticket it bought and paid for before the request is approved. All the times I have traveled for the company, never, ever has this been a problem.
Until Friday.
Because. No. Manager. On duty.
Where this was a delight for me before, Friday it was Hell.
You all know how I have no manager (she's on maternity leave) and with all the recent lay offs, everyone above her in my department is gone.
The next person in chain of command is the company's CEO.
I have been taking the initiative and approving my own vacations and managing my own work. I don't have approval rights for travel requests.
My request has been sitting in my manager's email inbox. The one on maternity leave. UHM...
My trip was postponed due to that upset. I was so pissed. I was thisclose to telling the woman in charge of requests approvals to just call the CEO and get it approved, what better things did he have to do on a Friday?
I brushed it off and went to lunch with the sales team (Group A). Little did I know that my maternity leave manager was meeting us, too.
She has a Blackberry connected to her work email. So with a slight of suggestion in retelling her the drama...VOILA: trip back on.
To the East coast I went.
Holy Moses was it cold! I am an odd one and love, love cold weather. I prefer the weather to reflect what season we are in. Seriously, 80 degrees in January? Who are you kidding, Texas?
I stayed at the Beacon Hill Hotel. It was cozy and okay. As soon as I nestled in my bed, Angel Eyes was starting on TNT. Holla!
At 10:30 AM our Hostess was greeting us for a walking tour that would end at our company's office. Most people would cringe at walking in twenty eight degree weather, not I. Scarfed up and ready, I was down in the lobby at 10:15.
Hostess was there. Before this moment, I have only known this woman from her emails and her reputation, which she was known to be great, very business like, but everyone loves her. Her emails are very to the point and boderline demanding. My picture of her in my head was a woman in her late thirties.
WRONG.
She was my age and the cutest ever. We clicked immediately. Over my ever so cute pink sneakers. And pink scarf to match. And her pink Burberry trench coat. Uh huh. They do it in style, in Beantown.
We headed out and about in Beacon Hill. We stopped and ate at 75 Chestnut. I had the fish and chips. Yum, yum, yummy.
We then continued on to the Freedom Trail. Talk about a ton of historical sites--Paul Revere's house, the Boston Massacre site, Bunker Hill, and the list goes on and on.
After that, I was fired up for some more but that's when we ended at the offices.
My current office is a tad bit out of date compared to the bright and shiny offices in Boston. Unless it was part of their master plan and they shined it all up for us before we came to visit.
The offices are nice.
They looked like those type of offices you see on a new hip sitcom. Flat panel televisions, brightly colored walls, and views of the city to kill.
Then it was time to look at some different neighborhoods. For living choices. This is my downfall.
I love scavenging for a new place to live. I love looking at different floorplans and configuring my furniture into. I love house hunting. I love moving. I love the feeling of a new place for all my furniture. A new address is grand for me.
It's fun for me.
Not for everyone else that was on the trip. Boy, were we with a complaining crowd. Number one complaint: Rent and teeny tiny apartments.
Most of these complaints came from the significant others within the group; not my fellow co-workers. Yes, we were allowed to invite a significant other.
To me, they spoiled the trip more so than anything. Not just with their questions, but their needs to be alone with their corresponding significant other.
Come on, don't you get enough couple time when you are in your prospective towns?
Ugh--this drew me and Hostess closer together. Sadly, this was my master plan...
Let me explain. You know when you meet someone and you just click? You know the two of you will make good friends and get along well. As adults we are passed the sand box age and it takes work--explicit and conspirical work, so that you don't look like a lesbian hitting on that person. It is work making new friends while an adult.
With the significant others complaining and me bustling up with energy to keep going, Hostess came to a decision that we needed to split up and re-meet for dinner.
Go figure, only me and another girl (who was also the only other solo person on the trip) continued on the real estate portion of the day.
Yes, the rent is high and space is limited. Hostess told us some tricks to get around all that.
The day ended with dinner. Khao Sarn was delicious. It boasts some interesting yummy Thai food. Which then lent some complaints from the group, once again.
OH MY GAWD.
I'd pay someone to rid me of these people and their husbands at this point.
Poor Hostess could not catch a break and you could see it in her face.
After, some went on their way and Hostess asked us what we had planned for tomorrow (Sunday). Me, the artful researcher quipped up that I was wanting to find a good brunch place.
Then the bells chimed in Friendship land and she invited me to brunch with her and her friend.
Hallelujah.
Then the bells chimed once more, once the others left the conversation and bar, she invited me to come stay at her place, if I wanted.
I was reluctant at first because as we all know, Golightly loves a hotel stay. Then the offer got warmer as she went on and said how she'll introduce me to her friends and her husband's friends. Then it got smoking hot, when she disclosed that her husband is Cuban and his friends are hot.
Muy Caliente is what she said.
I was packed and ready in ten minutes short.
Her place was a dream. Seriously, I don't know what Broker found their apartment for them, but I need the number (and their dual income). They lived in an 'hood called Back Bay.
How to describe her husband? He is a boastful, proud immigrant.
He is very, very Cuban and is not ashamed to tell you. His whole family was at their house when we got there.
Brothers (hot), sisters, Aunts, and cousins. It was a circus. I was already missing the hotel.
Then soon I found out that not a one of them was staying there either, whoo, thank goodness for that.
Hostess is probably the whitest girl on the planet. Just to see her in this Latin-dynamic was entertainment enough. She'd roll her eyes at his siters, they'd roll their eyes at her. She'd back talk the mom, and the mom would back talk her. It was funny.
We all went out to some bar. I say some bar because I don't know the name. We had to take the subway to her friends house where Golightly drank a wee bit too much before hitting some bar.
Where the Boston Boys are HOT.
But I did miss Incredible, awww.....
The next day was brunch and football. We had fun making fun of the complainers and party poopers from the day before. Hostess' Husband asked us what we wanted for dinner. Just as FOOD Network's "Everyday Italian" was starting, I whispered 'carbonara'. Neither one had heard of it. Carbonara is my fave pasta dish ever. You have to brave the semi cooked eggs to enjoy it. They were game.
Hostess, her Husband, and I all went to the market. It was like three peas in a pod.
And I cooked dinner. Hostess' Husband re-named the dish, Cubanara because he said I'm Cuban now.
Doesn't it take a lot more than that....like, let's say one of his brothers?
Wednesday, January 11
Mr. & Mrs. Smith (and baby)
So Angelina and Brad are a couple and they are expecting.
Hummm...where to go with this?
I betcha they name that kid something crazy-weird. But I bet the name Jennifer is for sure not on the list.
Here are my thoughts and remember I am fresh off the lovin' Mr. and Mrs. Smith wagon.
I never really liked Angelina until she adopted Maddox. Seeing her as a mother put her in a new light for me. Before she was just the weird woman who made out with her brother and carried Billy Bob's blood in a vial. Remember those days?
Then she went to adopt Zahara---how cute is she? And I have to say that Jolie has proven herself in my eyes as a great philanthropist who generally cares about other parts of the world.
On the other hand...I honestly think she had a lot to do with the Aniston-Pitt break up. For that, I cringe in disgust BUT at least Pitt had the decency to get a divorce and they are not sneaking around.
No I am not advocating cheating on your wife just as long as you get a divorce.
What I am saying is, at least all this news happened well after the divorce was finalized and not days soon after. Can you imagine?
I know it takes two. I don't like Brad at all. He used to be cute.
Now...ew.
He looks like a bum on a motorcycle. One that doesn't wash his hair or put on deodorant.
In Mr & Mrs. Smith; it took me back to the old days, of clean, blond, shaven hair Pitt.
Just because I don't like him, doesn't mean that I am sitting here feeling all sorry for Jennifer.
Heck. No.
She is a pain in my booty, each and every time I see her, I want to scream.
She tries to play that all American sweetheart card way too much. Hello, lady there can only be one and that title belongs to Julia Roberts until she passes it on.
I doubt she'd pass it on to Aniston. I see Reese Witherspoon or Kate Hudson getting that before Aniston.
And she is snooty.
Is it just me or does she come across like she thinks she was the most popular and successful actor from 'Friends'? She acts like she has a huge chip on her shoulder.
True, she was cute in "Rumor Has It..."; but cute got her so far. She was Mark Ruffalo's girlfriend and who doesn't look cute next to him? I'm 100% sure the only reason I enjoyed the movie was because of Shirley Maclaine.
Those are just my two cents on the whole thing. Thought I'd share since everywhere I hit on the Internet today had an opinion of it as well.
Hummm...where to go with this?
I betcha they name that kid something crazy-weird. But I bet the name Jennifer is for sure not on the list.
Here are my thoughts and remember I am fresh off the lovin' Mr. and Mrs. Smith wagon.
I never really liked Angelina until she adopted Maddox. Seeing her as a mother put her in a new light for me. Before she was just the weird woman who made out with her brother and carried Billy Bob's blood in a vial. Remember those days?
Then she went to adopt Zahara---how cute is she? And I have to say that Jolie has proven herself in my eyes as a great philanthropist who generally cares about other parts of the world.
On the other hand...I honestly think she had a lot to do with the Aniston-Pitt break up. For that, I cringe in disgust BUT at least Pitt had the decency to get a divorce and they are not sneaking around.
No I am not advocating cheating on your wife just as long as you get a divorce.
What I am saying is, at least all this news happened well after the divorce was finalized and not days soon after. Can you imagine?
I know it takes two. I don't like Brad at all. He used to be cute.
Now...ew.
He looks like a bum on a motorcycle. One that doesn't wash his hair or put on deodorant.
In Mr & Mrs. Smith; it took me back to the old days, of clean, blond, shaven hair Pitt.
Just because I don't like him, doesn't mean that I am sitting here feeling all sorry for Jennifer.
Heck. No.
She is a pain in my booty, each and every time I see her, I want to scream.
She tries to play that all American sweetheart card way too much. Hello, lady there can only be one and that title belongs to Julia Roberts until she passes it on.
I doubt she'd pass it on to Aniston. I see Reese Witherspoon or Kate Hudson getting that before Aniston.
And she is snooty.
Is it just me or does she come across like she thinks she was the most popular and successful actor from 'Friends'? She acts like she has a huge chip on her shoulder.
True, she was cute in "Rumor Has It..."; but cute got her so far. She was Mark Ruffalo's girlfriend and who doesn't look cute next to him? I'm 100% sure the only reason I enjoyed the movie was because of Shirley Maclaine.
Those are just my two cents on the whole thing. Thought I'd share since everywhere I hit on the Internet today had an opinion of it as well.
Leaving on a Jet Plane
Guess where I am going, in two days? Betcha can't...
Here are some clues: East coast, work, and beans.
Yep, Internet peeps, I'm heading to Boston. Wait, wait, not to live, just yet...but to have a casual recruiting weekend..uhm hmm.
More like the hiring manager up there is so desperate for me and a few others to work up there that she is going to kidnap us.
If you don't hear from me by late Monday, send out a search party. Don't know where I am staying, just yet--itinerary should be in my hands tomorrow.
All I know is that it's me and four other co-workers from around the country. Apparently the best of the best. Yeah. Right. So they told us.
Honestly, you may think I am crazy but I don't think I would move there. Reason: My friends and Incredible.
Say, what??
Let's attack the easy one first: My friends. I like the fact that most of my friends live in Texas. It's an easy trip to see any one of them.
True, it rarely happens. Some, I never ever see--I won't say names but you know who you are. Some complain that the gas prices are way too high (not you, Bev, others with jobs) and it was. Can you imagine if I lived far away? I'd never see them. Because plane tickets are not the cheapest either.
Funny--those same friends told me that they would come to Boston to visit.
Uhm...I was not born yesterday.
But we're all in the same state. I like it like that. It's easier. It's more comforting.
Now the hard explanation: Incredible. I would not stay here for a man. We all know I left San Antonio and a boyfriend in a heartbeat. But there is something more happening here, in these past two weeks that I cannot explain just yet.
And no, AP, we are not engaged. Yes, I've been wearing a faux ring on that finger only because I cannot use my computer mouse with rings on my right hand, so I switch them to my left. Or else I'd forget them at my desk at work. But I swear to you I am not engaged. Even when I have been known in the past to say things like "If I was engaged I would keep it a secret and you'd find out when you received your invitation in the mail to the wedding"
That still holds true. Don't be too shocked, I just don't want to go through the whole parade and dance. Plus, I want to plan my wedding without the butting in of mother and a few friends; you know what I mean? Plus, I say this now, but don't be more shocked if you see a big post one day titled" I'm Engaged!! And can I add if I was engaged, there would be no ring...so, we can all stop at the questioning*.
Point is: I don't think I would move but we never know what this weekend may or may not enlighten me to love Boston.
My options are open. My bag will be packed because I never turn down a free trip on this company's dime.
**AP isn't the only one that is questioning me on if I am engaged or not. Why are people asking me this? is it because we spent New Year's together? What?
Here are some clues: East coast, work, and beans.
Yep, Internet peeps, I'm heading to Boston. Wait, wait, not to live, just yet...but to have a casual recruiting weekend..uhm hmm.
More like the hiring manager up there is so desperate for me and a few others to work up there that she is going to kidnap us.
If you don't hear from me by late Monday, send out a search party. Don't know where I am staying, just yet--itinerary should be in my hands tomorrow.
All I know is that it's me and four other co-workers from around the country. Apparently the best of the best. Yeah. Right. So they told us.
Honestly, you may think I am crazy but I don't think I would move there. Reason: My friends and Incredible.
Say, what??
Let's attack the easy one first: My friends. I like the fact that most of my friends live in Texas. It's an easy trip to see any one of them.
True, it rarely happens. Some, I never ever see--I won't say names but you know who you are. Some complain that the gas prices are way too high (not you, Bev, others with jobs) and it was. Can you imagine if I lived far away? I'd never see them. Because plane tickets are not the cheapest either.
Funny--those same friends told me that they would come to Boston to visit.
Uhm...I was not born yesterday.
But we're all in the same state. I like it like that. It's easier. It's more comforting.
Now the hard explanation: Incredible. I would not stay here for a man. We all know I left San Antonio and a boyfriend in a heartbeat. But there is something more happening here, in these past two weeks that I cannot explain just yet.
And no, AP, we are not engaged. Yes, I've been wearing a faux ring on that finger only because I cannot use my computer mouse with rings on my right hand, so I switch them to my left. Or else I'd forget them at my desk at work. But I swear to you I am not engaged. Even when I have been known in the past to say things like "If I was engaged I would keep it a secret and you'd find out when you received your invitation in the mail to the wedding"
That still holds true. Don't be too shocked, I just don't want to go through the whole parade and dance. Plus, I want to plan my wedding without the butting in of mother and a few friends; you know what I mean? Plus, I say this now, but don't be more shocked if you see a big post one day titled" I'm Engaged!! And can I add if I was engaged, there would be no ring...so, we can all stop at the questioning*.
Point is: I don't think I would move but we never know what this weekend may or may not enlighten me to love Boston.
My options are open. My bag will be packed because I never turn down a free trip on this company's dime.
**AP isn't the only one that is questioning me on if I am engaged or not. Why are people asking me this? is it because we spent New Year's together? What?
Candy Rap
I love me some ghetto rap. The more ghetto it is the better. I can like it because it is so not my life, but part of the culture. I feel that we all need a little lesson in what's new in ghetto rap. So you can all be just as offended as I am.
It's time to discuss some of the recent ghettoness to hit your radios.
Laffy Taffy
You have to really listen to the words to get this song. If you live in a smaller (conservative) city your stations may be bleeting out a good majority of the song. Which I say: Why play it?
The best part of this song is the comparison of body parts to candy.
I'm lookin fa mrs.bubble gum
I'm mr.chik-o-stick
I wanna (dun dun dunt)[oh]
Cuz you so thick
Gurlz call me Jolly Rancher
Cuz i stay so hard
And if you can believe, or maybe you know, it gets more offensive than that. Sparing you all the details, the song continues instructing women to shake their Laffy Taffy--which I assume is their butts. Not any butts, though, strippers! Because then comes this verse later in the song:
say baby gurl
a wat u gon do
i got a hundred 1s
i wanna po on you
just keep dat a** shakin
and i keep tippin you
while i sit back lik a playa
and sip dat grey goose
feelin all loose
cuz gurl you on yo job
you got my d*** hard
da way you touch dem toez
workin dem micros
on da stilletos
Offended? I was. Then it grew on me. Now I can sing along embarrassingly.
I'll take the Chris Rock excuse: they ain't talking about me.
I'm In Love with a Stripper
Oh. Gee. Whiz.
Can you believe it has taken them this long to make a song that all strippers can be proud of? Because they need love, too.
I know there are men out there who date and marry strippers. So it is natural for this song to be out there. I like it because it just cracks me up the way it poses as a slow jam.
But again...listen to the words and its a whole other world:
Got the body of a goddess
Got eyes with a peak of brown eyes see you girl
Droppin Low
She Comin Down from the ceiling
To tha flo
Yea She Know what she doin
Yea yea yea
She doin that right thang
Yea yea yea yea ea
I Need to get her over to my crib and do that night thang
Cause I'm in love with a stripper
Yep. Yep. Strippers need love too.
Now the above two songs are okay for me to hum along and know some of the words. But what gets me is that it gives those type of men---the ones I see at my local Neighborhood Wal-Mart an excuse to treat me like some piece of meat.
Time for my favorite, Grillz. I love, love, love this song. The beat is really good. And it doesn't depict women in a bad light either--unless we are supposed to be offended that men think we like a mouth full of jewelry, so on second thought:
Got 30 down at da bottom, 30 mo at da top
All invisible set, In little ice cube blocks
If i could call it a drink, Call it a smile on da rocks
If i could call out a price, Lets say i call out alot
I got like platinum and white gold's, Traditional glod's
Im changin grillz errday, Like gin change clothes
I might be grilled out nicely (Oh)
In my white Tee (Oh)
Or a south beach (Oh)
In my wife beat (Oh)
vive usteded, You can tell when they cut it
You see my grand mama hate it
But my lil' mama love it
Cuz when I
Open up ya mouth ya grill gleamin
Eyes stay lo from da chifin
I got a grill i call penny candy
You know what dat mean
It look like now or later, gum drops, jeally beans
I wouldnt leave it fo nutin, Only a crazy man would
So if ya catch me in ya city, Some where out in ya hood
Just say.....
Well. I can say that I think it looks horrible. Why would anyone be attracted to that? And may I add only one person looks decent with a 'gleamed out grill' and that is Nelly.
But now, thanks to this song, I bet you a lot of men (the kinds at the Neighborhood Wal-Mart) are going to get gleamed out.
And I guarantee that they think they look so much better and more P.I.M.P. so when they see me in the store and their mouth is gleaming, they expect me to swoon?!?!
Thank you, Nelly.
And what is up with all the candy mentions in our ghetto rap, lately?
I hope Nestle, Mars, or Willy Wonka is getting a chunk of the sales
It's time to discuss some of the recent ghettoness to hit your radios.
Laffy Taffy
You have to really listen to the words to get this song. If you live in a smaller (conservative) city your stations may be bleeting out a good majority of the song. Which I say: Why play it?
The best part of this song is the comparison of body parts to candy.
I'm lookin fa mrs.bubble gum
I'm mr.chik-o-stick
I wanna (dun dun dunt)[oh]
Cuz you so thick
Gurlz call me Jolly Rancher
Cuz i stay so hard
And if you can believe, or maybe you know, it gets more offensive than that. Sparing you all the details, the song continues instructing women to shake their Laffy Taffy--which I assume is their butts. Not any butts, though, strippers! Because then comes this verse later in the song:
say baby gurl
a wat u gon do
i got a hundred 1s
i wanna po on you
just keep dat a** shakin
and i keep tippin you
while i sit back lik a playa
and sip dat grey goose
feelin all loose
cuz gurl you on yo job
you got my d*** hard
da way you touch dem toez
workin dem micros
on da stilletos
Offended? I was. Then it grew on me. Now I can sing along embarrassingly.
I'll take the Chris Rock excuse: they ain't talking about me.
I'm In Love with a Stripper
Oh. Gee. Whiz.
Can you believe it has taken them this long to make a song that all strippers can be proud of? Because they need love, too.
I know there are men out there who date and marry strippers. So it is natural for this song to be out there. I like it because it just cracks me up the way it poses as a slow jam.
But again...listen to the words and its a whole other world:
Got the body of a goddess
Got eyes with a peak of brown eyes see you girl
Droppin Low
She Comin Down from the ceiling
To tha flo
Yea She Know what she doin
Yea yea yea
She doin that right thang
Yea yea yea yea ea
I Need to get her over to my crib and do that night thang
Cause I'm in love with a stripper
Yep. Yep. Strippers need love too.
Now the above two songs are okay for me to hum along and know some of the words. But what gets me is that it gives those type of men---the ones I see at my local Neighborhood Wal-Mart an excuse to treat me like some piece of meat.
Time for my favorite, Grillz. I love, love, love this song. The beat is really good. And it doesn't depict women in a bad light either--unless we are supposed to be offended that men think we like a mouth full of jewelry, so on second thought:
Got 30 down at da bottom, 30 mo at da top
All invisible set, In little ice cube blocks
If i could call it a drink, Call it a smile on da rocks
If i could call out a price, Lets say i call out alot
I got like platinum and white gold's, Traditional glod's
Im changin grillz errday, Like gin change clothes
I might be grilled out nicely (Oh)
In my white Tee (Oh)
Or a south beach (Oh)
In my wife beat (Oh)
vive usteded, You can tell when they cut it
You see my grand mama hate it
But my lil' mama love it
Cuz when I
Open up ya mouth ya grill gleamin
Eyes stay lo from da chifin
I got a grill i call penny candy
You know what dat mean
It look like now or later, gum drops, jeally beans
I wouldnt leave it fo nutin, Only a crazy man would
So if ya catch me in ya city, Some where out in ya hood
Just say.....
Well. I can say that I think it looks horrible. Why would anyone be attracted to that? And may I add only one person looks decent with a 'gleamed out grill' and that is Nelly.
But now, thanks to this song, I bet you a lot of men (the kinds at the Neighborhood Wal-Mart) are going to get gleamed out.
And I guarantee that they think they look so much better and more P.I.M.P. so when they see me in the store and their mouth is gleaming, they expect me to swoon?!?!
Thank you, Nelly.
And what is up with all the candy mentions in our ghetto rap, lately?
I hope Nestle, Mars, or Willy Wonka is getting a chunk of the sales
Tuesday, January 10
My Office is The Office
It took me awhile to realize this and now I know it to be true.
My office is an office full of quirks and fools that I have to deal with everyday. And I am Jim.
Every chance I get I try to make this place a cool place to come to each and every day--mostly just so I can bear it.
There are 2 major departments in my office, for the sake of the internet we will call one: Group A and the other (ooh, wait for it) Group B.
I am in Group A. It consists of sales people that are my age and of my peer. Meaning they are your average young person nowadays. We enjoy bars, movies at a theatre, date or are married, and know recent pop culture.
Group B are my age and not of my peer. Meaning they are not your average young person these days. They don't go out, they would marry their TiVo, movies are what come to them directly from NetFlix, they fit that stereotype of singe with ten cats, they are single and do not date, and know nothing about recent pop culture.
The latter proves to be the most annoying.
Group B looks like--oh, how can I be nice? Some are very homely looking, some are very pretty, and some look like The Office's Dwight.
Group B doesn't want anything to do with fun.
Case in point: Each day they come in to work and that's all they do is work. They joke every once and awhile but it's usually over some Harry Potter joke that only they know. One day, I had made the comment that the hiring manager should hire a certain girl (she looked to be a Group A type); one of the coworkers overheard me and said "we don't do cute and fun" back here. And she was not kidding. See, my point--they even know who they are!
Group B is terrified of Vogue magazine. I'm not sounding conceited at all here, when I say: Fashion is a foreign word to them. I can come into work with my GAP jeans, a tee shirt, and a pair of boots and I would be trendy. You can imagine what happens when I come in actually looking 'trendy' with an outfit that I am proud of---no, you don't have to imagine because I will tell you what happens:
They stare.
Not any stare. Like they are seeing an elephant graze through the building stare. Like they know it exists, they just cannot believe it.
Then they compliment; "WOW. You look very fashiony today" or, my favorite; "I saw that in a magazine. Wish I could pull it off"
THEY COULD
if they went to a mall, fuck, Target!! Because you guys know I am all about the Tar-jey. I'm not talking about my fashion challenges, I'm talking about maybe a trendy top and jeans because it's very casual over here.
Then there is the girl who is 'Mormon" but met her fiance (who is so Gay) at an S&M bar. There is the guy who lives and dies by his purchases and sales on eBay. There is the girl who weighs sixty pounds, doesn't eat food but looks like she munches on her hair instead. There is the guy who high fives everything in sight (no joke) I saw him high five the water cooler for dispensing him water. There's the girl who thinks everything said is a direct insult; so you cannot be sarcastic or even joke with her.
OK, so that is that. I should move on to what I really need to vent about...
Our Holiday party.
I am in charge. (and, yes it's January but we got rid of all those people in December. And those people were the payees of our party)
I gave everyone a chance to put a suggestion of venue up for vote. The choices were: 1 upscale restaurant, 1 semi-nice restaurant, 1 tapas restaurant, and Hard Rock Cafe.
Can you believe someone suggested Hard Rock?
Well, most of Group B wanted Hard Rock and I know why. It's the only place they could go on the list looking like they do (this may sound mean, but if you were here, you'd know it to be the truth) and its the only 'safe' place on the list. Safe meaning: BURGERS and FRIES**.
Unh-unh.
The majority of Group B also asked back; "What are tapas?" This is where the non-knowledge of pop culture comes in.
The other questions asked, and I am not kidding were:
"Do we have to dress up?"
"Why are we doing a sit-down dinner? Nobody talks at sit down dinners."
"Why is it on a weekday?"----This was asked because I believe that they wanted Saturday night because its the one day out of the year for them to go out. I moved it to Saturday night.
Then I told them that we will have a cocktail hour before the dinner...
"Does that mean we have to dress up?"
"What is a cocktail hour?
I KID YOU NOT.
Then I forewarned them that we will be playing a game...
"Do we have to participate?"
I'm telling you, giving these people 'fun' on a platter is like pulling teeth. Then the eVite went out...
I don't know why I am shocked...not a one of them is commenting on eVite. Isn't that half the fun?
They are so bland and responding, yes or no, and if they are bringing a date. Shockingly, some of them are! But it should be noted most of the dates are coming from Group A.
Duh.
Today, I did my daily walk into Group B territory.
They stared.
I'm wearing corduroy gauchos, a white grandpa sweater, and boots. It's a simple, safe outfit for me. It's a Vogue photo spread to them.
It took me two steps before the questions started:
"Why are we going somewhere fancy?" Can I tell you how the restaurant was voted on and how it is so not the word fancy that you and I know of.
"What happened to Hard Rock Cafe?" Really, Hard Rock would have won the vote. But I pulled a W out of my butt when one coworker didn't bother to vote and counted his vote to the venue chosen.
But to answer the question: Class, is what happened to Hard Rock Cafe.
Hello?!?! Why in the world would you want to spend your Holiday Company party at Hard Rock? They are everywhere, you can go whenever. It's over-priced for food that taste like crap. Sonic has better food.
**It should be noted that none of them venture outside of American fare or Tex-mex when it comes to food. No sushi, no Italian, no Chinese, and no Asian Fusion, no American Fusion--no fusion of any type. Definitely no tapas--even after it was explained to them.
Yes, I've had it up to here. My office is The Office. And I am Jim.
My office is an office full of quirks and fools that I have to deal with everyday. And I am Jim.
Every chance I get I try to make this place a cool place to come to each and every day--mostly just so I can bear it.
There are 2 major departments in my office, for the sake of the internet we will call one: Group A and the other (ooh, wait for it) Group B.
I am in Group A. It consists of sales people that are my age and of my peer. Meaning they are your average young person nowadays. We enjoy bars, movies at a theatre, date or are married, and know recent pop culture.
Group B are my age and not of my peer. Meaning they are not your average young person these days. They don't go out, they would marry their TiVo, movies are what come to them directly from NetFlix, they fit that stereotype of singe with ten cats, they are single and do not date, and know nothing about recent pop culture.
The latter proves to be the most annoying.
Group B looks like--oh, how can I be nice? Some are very homely looking, some are very pretty, and some look like The Office's Dwight.
Group B doesn't want anything to do with fun.
Case in point: Each day they come in to work and that's all they do is work. They joke every once and awhile but it's usually over some Harry Potter joke that only they know. One day, I had made the comment that the hiring manager should hire a certain girl (she looked to be a Group A type); one of the coworkers overheard me and said "we don't do cute and fun" back here. And she was not kidding. See, my point--they even know who they are!
Group B is terrified of Vogue magazine. I'm not sounding conceited at all here, when I say: Fashion is a foreign word to them. I can come into work with my GAP jeans, a tee shirt, and a pair of boots and I would be trendy. You can imagine what happens when I come in actually looking 'trendy' with an outfit that I am proud of---no, you don't have to imagine because I will tell you what happens:
They stare.
Not any stare. Like they are seeing an elephant graze through the building stare. Like they know it exists, they just cannot believe it.
Then they compliment; "WOW. You look very fashiony today" or, my favorite; "I saw that in a magazine. Wish I could pull it off"
THEY COULD
if they went to a mall, fuck, Target!! Because you guys know I am all about the Tar-jey. I'm not talking about my fashion challenges, I'm talking about maybe a trendy top and jeans because it's very casual over here.
Then there is the girl who is 'Mormon" but met her fiance (who is so Gay) at an S&M bar. There is the guy who lives and dies by his purchases and sales on eBay. There is the girl who weighs sixty pounds, doesn't eat food but looks like she munches on her hair instead. There is the guy who high fives everything in sight (no joke) I saw him high five the water cooler for dispensing him water. There's the girl who thinks everything said is a direct insult; so you cannot be sarcastic or even joke with her.
OK, so that is that. I should move on to what I really need to vent about...
Our Holiday party.
I am in charge. (and, yes it's January but we got rid of all those people in December. And those people were the payees of our party)
I gave everyone a chance to put a suggestion of venue up for vote. The choices were: 1 upscale restaurant, 1 semi-nice restaurant, 1 tapas restaurant, and Hard Rock Cafe.
Can you believe someone suggested Hard Rock?
Well, most of Group B wanted Hard Rock and I know why. It's the only place they could go on the list looking like they do (this may sound mean, but if you were here, you'd know it to be the truth) and its the only 'safe' place on the list. Safe meaning: BURGERS and FRIES**.
Unh-unh.
The majority of Group B also asked back; "What are tapas?" This is where the non-knowledge of pop culture comes in.
The other questions asked, and I am not kidding were:
"Do we have to dress up?"
"Why are we doing a sit-down dinner? Nobody talks at sit down dinners."
"Why is it on a weekday?"----This was asked because I believe that they wanted Saturday night because its the one day out of the year for them to go out. I moved it to Saturday night.
Then I told them that we will have a cocktail hour before the dinner...
"Does that mean we have to dress up?"
"What is a cocktail hour?
I KID YOU NOT.
Then I forewarned them that we will be playing a game...
"Do we have to participate?"
I'm telling you, giving these people 'fun' on a platter is like pulling teeth. Then the eVite went out...
I don't know why I am shocked...not a one of them is commenting on eVite. Isn't that half the fun?
They are so bland and responding, yes or no, and if they are bringing a date. Shockingly, some of them are! But it should be noted most of the dates are coming from Group A.
Duh.
Today, I did my daily walk into Group B territory.
They stared.
I'm wearing corduroy gauchos, a white grandpa sweater, and boots. It's a simple, safe outfit for me. It's a Vogue photo spread to them.
It took me two steps before the questions started:
"Why are we going somewhere fancy?" Can I tell you how the restaurant was voted on and how it is so not the word fancy that you and I know of.
"What happened to Hard Rock Cafe?" Really, Hard Rock would have won the vote. But I pulled a W out of my butt when one coworker didn't bother to vote and counted his vote to the venue chosen.
But to answer the question: Class, is what happened to Hard Rock Cafe.
Hello?!?! Why in the world would you want to spend your Holiday Company party at Hard Rock? They are everywhere, you can go whenever. It's over-priced for food that taste like crap. Sonic has better food.
**It should be noted that none of them venture outside of American fare or Tex-mex when it comes to food. No sushi, no Italian, no Chinese, and no Asian Fusion, no American Fusion--no fusion of any type. Definitely no tapas--even after it was explained to them.
Yes, I've had it up to here. My office is The Office. And I am Jim.
Eight 4's
I've been tagged by Bev:
Four jobs you've had in your life:
1. Bagger at HEB grocery store
2. Asst. Store Manager for Pier 1 Imports
3. Clear Channel Acct. Executive
4. The job I currently have
Four movies you would watch over and over:
1. Breakfast at Tiffany's
2. The Cooler
3. Angel Eyes
4. Cold Mountain
Four TV shows you love to watch:
1. Laguna Beach
2. Project Runway
3. Girlfriends
4. Will and Grace
Four places you have been on vacation:
1. San Francisco, California
2. Phoenix (Chandler), Arizona
3. Sacramento, CA
4. LA, CA
Four websites you visit daily:
1. My Yahoo
2. Pink is the New Blog
3. Many, many blogs at the top of the list: Bev, Twisted, Clink, Sarah (Okay Seriously), Midwest Grrl, Ranger Tom, and the list goes on and on
4. DFW PRSA job bank
Four of your favorite foods:
1. Cupcakes
2. Chipotle burritos
3. hamburgers
4. Sushi Zushi Delicato roll
Four things you would change about your house: (I actually need to get a house first.)
1. Move
2. Paint
3. get a new couch
4. get new kitchen gadgets/bigger kitchen
Four bloggers you are tagging:
I'm leaving this open; since the 2 I would tag have already been tagged.
Four jobs you've had in your life:
1. Bagger at HEB grocery store
2. Asst. Store Manager for Pier 1 Imports
3. Clear Channel Acct. Executive
4. The job I currently have
Four movies you would watch over and over:
1. Breakfast at Tiffany's
2. The Cooler
3. Angel Eyes
4. Cold Mountain
Four TV shows you love to watch:
1. Laguna Beach
2. Project Runway
3. Girlfriends
4. Will and Grace
Four places you have been on vacation:
1. San Francisco, California
2. Phoenix (Chandler), Arizona
3. Sacramento, CA
4. LA, CA
Four websites you visit daily:
1. My Yahoo
2. Pink is the New Blog
3. Many, many blogs at the top of the list: Bev, Twisted, Clink, Sarah (Okay Seriously), Midwest Grrl, Ranger Tom, and the list goes on and on
4. DFW PRSA job bank
Four of your favorite foods:
1. Cupcakes
2. Chipotle burritos
3. hamburgers
4. Sushi Zushi Delicato roll
Four things you would change about your house: (I actually need to get a house first.)
1. Move
2. Paint
3. get a new couch
4. get new kitchen gadgets/bigger kitchen
Four bloggers you are tagging:
I'm leaving this open; since the 2 I would tag have already been tagged.
If You Don't Understand it, Let Me Give it to You in Spanish...
Churros kicked my ass.
Plain and simple. I don't know where I went wrong with this.
I heated up the oil. I made the batter. I put it in the pastry bag; but for some odd reason the dough didn't come out as easily and nicely formed as it did with Martha.
What I ended up with was a whole bunch of squiggly things in the oil that, yes, splattered and popped all over the place. My stove looks like it was attacked by oil bombs. And I am looking the other way.
With the messed up churros--that tasted horrible! I think vanilla or some kind of flavoring should be added to the recipe...no flavoring at all?!?! I kept reading it over and over to make sure I wasn't missing something.
Refusing to be defeated I busted out my ingredients to make cupcakes.
I shouldn't have gone there. I whipped up a batter in under 5 minutes, didn't pay attention to something, threw them in the oven. They baked while I was in the shower. And when I came back down to get them: there was a mess in my oven. Too much baking powder. They looked like oversized mushrooms.
Oh. Hell. To. The. No.
My baking mojo was definitely off last night. I don't know what happened...maybe someone jinxed me when they said it may be rude to bring a food item to the viewing party. I'm not saying who--but you know who you are.
(Just kidding)
In the wake of all that, I went to the viewing party. Empty-handed.
The hostess' house was amazing. In Carrollton (so you know it was a field trip there and back), but still amazing. 4 bedrooms, painted and decorated so nicely.
I got to talking to her about her job. Its a job that has been offered to me on a platter more than once. I always passed it up because I hear rumors about it, that just ain't good...but seeing her benefits of it, I may just have to reconsider.
Especially since my company is pretty much dunzo. The pay is awesome and the job is highly coveted by others--everywhere I go, everyone seems to want to be a Pharmaceutical Rep.
Uhm, I have a different disposition. Yes, the pay is nice. Yes, you get to work from home. Yes, you get to meet hot Bachelor doctors.
But it's sales. I hate having to work with a goal and making the numbers. The possibility of being fired is too great if you don't make your quota; but then again my chances where I am now are not that great either.
Plain and simple. I don't know where I went wrong with this.
I heated up the oil. I made the batter. I put it in the pastry bag; but for some odd reason the dough didn't come out as easily and nicely formed as it did with Martha.
What I ended up with was a whole bunch of squiggly things in the oil that, yes, splattered and popped all over the place. My stove looks like it was attacked by oil bombs. And I am looking the other way.
With the messed up churros--that tasted horrible! I think vanilla or some kind of flavoring should be added to the recipe...no flavoring at all?!?! I kept reading it over and over to make sure I wasn't missing something.
Refusing to be defeated I busted out my ingredients to make cupcakes.
I shouldn't have gone there. I whipped up a batter in under 5 minutes, didn't pay attention to something, threw them in the oven. They baked while I was in the shower. And when I came back down to get them: there was a mess in my oven. Too much baking powder. They looked like oversized mushrooms.
Oh. Hell. To. The. No.
My baking mojo was definitely off last night. I don't know what happened...maybe someone jinxed me when they said it may be rude to bring a food item to the viewing party. I'm not saying who--but you know who you are.
(Just kidding)
In the wake of all that, I went to the viewing party. Empty-handed.
The hostess' house was amazing. In Carrollton (so you know it was a field trip there and back), but still amazing. 4 bedrooms, painted and decorated so nicely.
I got to talking to her about her job. Its a job that has been offered to me on a platter more than once. I always passed it up because I hear rumors about it, that just ain't good...but seeing her benefits of it, I may just have to reconsider.
Especially since my company is pretty much dunzo. The pay is awesome and the job is highly coveted by others--everywhere I go, everyone seems to want to be a Pharmaceutical Rep.
Uhm, I have a different disposition. Yes, the pay is nice. Yes, you get to work from home. Yes, you get to meet hot Bachelor doctors.
But it's sales. I hate having to work with a goal and making the numbers. The possibility of being fired is too great if you don't make your quota; but then again my chances where I am now are not that great either.
Monday, January 9
This is how I set myself up:
I am so bored at work today.
Naturally I started to browse the internet. Daily blog reads lasted about an hour. Then I went on my other daily vice of looking up random recipes.
While doing that, I was sent an eVite for a Bachelor Viewing Party, tonight.
The recipe hunting and the party invite together spelled trouble.
The hostess is cooking up a Mexican meal for us--- if it were me, I'd have chosen a French menu, but hey, I'll stand back and wait my turn.
The viewing party trades off to a new person's house each week and that week's host cooks dinner. Each guest is supposed to bring their drink of choice.
So already I started my hunt for some French fare. And the trouble began. While hunting for recipes, I decided to trek on over to Martha's website.
Have you seen her new show? I heart it. I love the way she gets the guests involved. And she is turning into Oprah's twin by interrupting her guests. Uhm hmm.
As I was perusing the site I remembered a fun chef that was on a repeated show last week. I may have remembered the show because Josh Duhamel was the guest and he was making a bed with Martha...
oh how hot is he? and making a bed? Plus he kept adding all these witty remarks to what Martha was telling him to do and we love a man with some wit over here!
Back to the recipe search; on that show churros were made...do you see where this is leading? Churros are a Spanish dessert dish that can also be served for breakfast.
I am not going to drink tonight. I'm still feeling the effects from last Wednesday's Vodka-fest and Saturday night I switched to Woodchuck Raspberry*** beer. No drinking tonight!
The idea popped into my head, instead of taking a bottle of wine, why don't I bring dessert? Do you think the hostess would be upset? I want to surprise her with it and she already noted that there was no dessert?
I've been scared to deep fry before but since I got a super cute red deep stock pan; I think I can manage without hot oil splatting up and burning me. Those suckers hurt!
***Twisted, I so thought of you when drinking this. The beer tastes just like that raspberry beer you introduced me to at Flying Saucer. No champagne flute though, just straight out the beer bottle.
Naturally I started to browse the internet. Daily blog reads lasted about an hour. Then I went on my other daily vice of looking up random recipes.
While doing that, I was sent an eVite for a Bachelor Viewing Party, tonight.
The recipe hunting and the party invite together spelled trouble.
The hostess is cooking up a Mexican meal for us--- if it were me, I'd have chosen a French menu, but hey, I'll stand back and wait my turn.
The viewing party trades off to a new person's house each week and that week's host cooks dinner. Each guest is supposed to bring their drink of choice.
So already I started my hunt for some French fare. And the trouble began. While hunting for recipes, I decided to trek on over to Martha's website.
Have you seen her new show? I heart it. I love the way she gets the guests involved. And she is turning into Oprah's twin by interrupting her guests. Uhm hmm.
As I was perusing the site I remembered a fun chef that was on a repeated show last week. I may have remembered the show because Josh Duhamel was the guest and he was making a bed with Martha...
oh how hot is he? and making a bed? Plus he kept adding all these witty remarks to what Martha was telling him to do and we love a man with some wit over here!
Back to the recipe search; on that show churros were made...do you see where this is leading? Churros are a Spanish dessert dish that can also be served for breakfast.
I am not going to drink tonight. I'm still feeling the effects from last Wednesday's Vodka-fest and Saturday night I switched to Woodchuck Raspberry*** beer. No drinking tonight!
The idea popped into my head, instead of taking a bottle of wine, why don't I bring dessert? Do you think the hostess would be upset? I want to surprise her with it and she already noted that there was no dessert?
I've been scared to deep fry before but since I got a super cute red deep stock pan; I think I can manage without hot oil splatting up and burning me. Those suckers hurt!
***Twisted, I so thought of you when drinking this. The beer tastes just like that raspberry beer you introduced me to at Flying Saucer. No champagne flute though, just straight out the beer bottle.
I May be Weird
I didn't think Wedding Crashers was all that.
Call me un-funny.
One; I expected a lot more wedding crashing to be happening in the film. The only times I laughed out loud is when they were crashing weddings and that lasted about the first ten minutes of the film.
Oh and I did laugh when Will Ferrell joined the scene--but, again that was the last 15 minutes of the movie. Did I miss something in between?
As soon as Owen and Vince got to the Senator's house for the weekend---the laughter stopped at my house. The girl scheming to be with Vince was hilarious. That's it.
My friends compared this to be just as funny as "Old School"--are you kidding me? "Old School" was 100 times funnier.
Maybe I missed something, but then again so did Incredible. We both sat there going; "This is it?"
He was bored. I was bored. There was an occasional chuckle. And I laughed out loud once.
On the other hand, Mr. and Mrs. Smith had me laughing out loud repeatedly. Nobody forewarned me that it was going to be that funny. I expected a chuckle here and there, but not laughing out loud at almost every scene.
Thank goodness I watched it alone on Friday night. When it was time to watch it again (I wanted to) with Incredible (his first time); he was asleep and snoring within the first ten minutes.
?!?!?!
We had to stop the film because he was bored (?) and couldn't keep attention; especially knowing there was a football game on television. I was highly annoyed but not as pissed as I would have been if I hadn't already seen it.
What can you do?
This weekend was also a Brunch Club weekend. This time we changed it up a bit and went to a Midnight brunch at Avanti.
First, we hit a bar. Then, ate. Naturally we lost a few (drunken) girls who opted to stay at the bar for the eye candy and possible hook ups. You know how it is...
I made it to the restaurant. But my eggs benedict hollandaise was way too lemon-y. Which meant tart, too. Oh well, cannot win them all.
Surprise surprise, I made up for it the next morning when I woke up and made breakfast: pancakes with powdered sugar and whip cream and scrambled eggs.
Yep, yep that means I ate two breakfasts in the span of eight hours.
If you think that is bad, I won't even go into the buffet like meal we had at Red Lobster last night. We ate like Kings and the overdue diet starts today. I cannot look pudgy for Mexico.
Next week, I think I will try to make my own eggs benedict. Do you think it's that hard to do?
It'll be a challenge.
At first the thought of runny eggs terrified me, many years ago. Then I started making carbonara--which calls for you to add uncooked eggs to the pasta. The heat is supposed to cook the egg safely enough for you to eat. I have yet to get sick from my carbonara.
Then I went on to eating poached eggs each brunch club meeting. So far I am good.
I think I am ready to try it at home.
Wish I had an egg poacher, but I so do not need any more kitchen gadgets--my apartment sized kitchen cannot hold all of it. Maybe I should invest in a high tech oven that doubles as storage. It was good enough for Mrs. Smith--but I won't be storing knives like those.
Call me un-funny.
One; I expected a lot more wedding crashing to be happening in the film. The only times I laughed out loud is when they were crashing weddings and that lasted about the first ten minutes of the film.
Oh and I did laugh when Will Ferrell joined the scene--but, again that was the last 15 minutes of the movie. Did I miss something in between?
As soon as Owen and Vince got to the Senator's house for the weekend---the laughter stopped at my house. The girl scheming to be with Vince was hilarious. That's it.
My friends compared this to be just as funny as "Old School"--are you kidding me? "Old School" was 100 times funnier.
Maybe I missed something, but then again so did Incredible. We both sat there going; "This is it?"
He was bored. I was bored. There was an occasional chuckle. And I laughed out loud once.
On the other hand, Mr. and Mrs. Smith had me laughing out loud repeatedly. Nobody forewarned me that it was going to be that funny. I expected a chuckle here and there, but not laughing out loud at almost every scene.
Thank goodness I watched it alone on Friday night. When it was time to watch it again (I wanted to) with Incredible (his first time); he was asleep and snoring within the first ten minutes.
?!?!?!
We had to stop the film because he was bored (?) and couldn't keep attention; especially knowing there was a football game on television. I was highly annoyed but not as pissed as I would have been if I hadn't already seen it.
What can you do?
This weekend was also a Brunch Club weekend. This time we changed it up a bit and went to a Midnight brunch at Avanti.
First, we hit a bar. Then, ate. Naturally we lost a few (drunken) girls who opted to stay at the bar for the eye candy and possible hook ups. You know how it is...
I made it to the restaurant. But my eggs benedict hollandaise was way too lemon-y. Which meant tart, too. Oh well, cannot win them all.
Surprise surprise, I made up for it the next morning when I woke up and made breakfast: pancakes with powdered sugar and whip cream and scrambled eggs.
Yep, yep that means I ate two breakfasts in the span of eight hours.
If you think that is bad, I won't even go into the buffet like meal we had at Red Lobster last night. We ate like Kings and the overdue diet starts today. I cannot look pudgy for Mexico.
Next week, I think I will try to make my own eggs benedict. Do you think it's that hard to do?
It'll be a challenge.
At first the thought of runny eggs terrified me, many years ago. Then I started making carbonara--which calls for you to add uncooked eggs to the pasta. The heat is supposed to cook the egg safely enough for you to eat. I have yet to get sick from my carbonara.
Then I went on to eating poached eggs each brunch club meeting. So far I am good.
I think I am ready to try it at home.
Wish I had an egg poacher, but I so do not need any more kitchen gadgets--my apartment sized kitchen cannot hold all of it. Maybe I should invest in a high tech oven that doubles as storage. It was good enough for Mrs. Smith--but I won't be storing knives like those.
Thursday, January 5
Young, Brown, Ross, Robison.
I love My Boys.
I wasn't even born the last time UT won a championship (1970). Last night I felt like I died and was in Heaven.
Holy Crap.
My eyes are still trying to catch up with my brain because I cannot believe that I watched what I watched.
Unbelievable!
Honestly I can tell you that SC played a great game and I seriously thought that we were gonna lose at one point.
Because when you are playing a team trying to win their 3rd championship in a row, a team that has over 30-something consecutive wins, a team with two Heisman winners, a team playing in their backyard, a team who was favored by media and fans to win; you just don't think you are going to win especially when the game is down to the last minute.
Aye, that last minute: I was sweating bullets, Incredible's stomach was in knots, and the woman sitting next to me was calm as ever saying "don't worry, y'all got this" and all I wanted to shout back to her was: "SHUT UP" because if they didn't get it, I would blame her.
HA.
We watched the game at a house party mostly attended by Texas Exes. They had bloody marys and screwdrivers as the drink of choice.
I should. Never. Drink. Vodka.
Correction: I should never drink well into five o'clock in the morning.
Uh-huh.
After we won, the party headed to the local Texas Exes bar to celebrate. On a school night. Are you kidding me? It was like I was back in my ol' UT days because in the back of my head I kept thinking:
"If I go to bed at six, sleep an hour, I can wake up in time"
Yeah. Right.
But I did go to bed and that was the mistake. I should have stayed awake and let the alcohol ride out. Getting up this morning was Hell.
Thank goodness a co-worker gave me a Starbucks gift card (I don't drink coffee) but I sure did order the biggest Vanilla Creme. Two, to be exact.
My only disappointment in the game is that they waited until the post game show to give us a look at Matty. WTF?
I know, it's football not a celebrity watching game but they did show James Denton twice in the stands.
Now what was that about? Honestly, since it was in Pasadena I expected more celebs in the crowd.
I also expected a half time show. What was up with that? The night before at the Orange Bowl, Ciara performed. The Rose Bowl's half time featured both school's bands and a video clip of the season's highlights music tidbit with U2.
Now I can return all my missed calls and catch up with friends I have not spoken to in forever because the season is over. Boo hoo.
I wasn't even born the last time UT won a championship (1970). Last night I felt like I died and was in Heaven.
Holy Crap.
My eyes are still trying to catch up with my brain because I cannot believe that I watched what I watched.
Unbelievable!
Honestly I can tell you that SC played a great game and I seriously thought that we were gonna lose at one point.
Because when you are playing a team trying to win their 3rd championship in a row, a team that has over 30-something consecutive wins, a team with two Heisman winners, a team playing in their backyard, a team who was favored by media and fans to win; you just don't think you are going to win especially when the game is down to the last minute.
Aye, that last minute: I was sweating bullets, Incredible's stomach was in knots, and the woman sitting next to me was calm as ever saying "don't worry, y'all got this" and all I wanted to shout back to her was: "SHUT UP" because if they didn't get it, I would blame her.
HA.
We watched the game at a house party mostly attended by Texas Exes. They had bloody marys and screwdrivers as the drink of choice.
I should. Never. Drink. Vodka.
Correction: I should never drink well into five o'clock in the morning.
Uh-huh.
After we won, the party headed to the local Texas Exes bar to celebrate. On a school night. Are you kidding me? It was like I was back in my ol' UT days because in the back of my head I kept thinking:
"If I go to bed at six, sleep an hour, I can wake up in time"
Yeah. Right.
But I did go to bed and that was the mistake. I should have stayed awake and let the alcohol ride out. Getting up this morning was Hell.
Thank goodness a co-worker gave me a Starbucks gift card (I don't drink coffee) but I sure did order the biggest Vanilla Creme. Two, to be exact.
My only disappointment in the game is that they waited until the post game show to give us a look at Matty. WTF?
I know, it's football not a celebrity watching game but they did show James Denton twice in the stands.
Now what was that about? Honestly, since it was in Pasadena I expected more celebs in the crowd.
I also expected a half time show. What was up with that? The night before at the Orange Bowl, Ciara performed. The Rose Bowl's half time featured both school's bands and a video clip of the season's highlights music tidbit with U2.
Now I can return all my missed calls and catch up with friends I have not spoken to in forever because the season is over. Boo hoo.
Wednesday, January 4
Planes, Trains, and Automobiles
And also American Airlines...
What a crock of crap airline they are. I should have known better especially since they are losing money right now.
Did you know that they charge you to sky cap your luggage now? $3!
Did you know that they don't let planes take off unless there is a certain number of flight attendants on board?
I sat on the runway forever waiting for a sick attendants replacement on Christmas Eve.
Christmas Eve!! so you know there were not that many readily available to replace her.
So much fun I had on that plane. NOT. The passenger next to me (male) decided to read Maxim and Stuff magazines. He made it obviously clear that he was enjoying both of them.
HELLO?!?
The flight going, there were no snacks or drinks. What the...? Did the sick stewardess contaminate the beverage cart? That meant no drinks, no snack, nothing for the 2 hour, forty minute flight to Phoenix.
When Incredible used his frequent flyer miles to come out to Phoenix--he had to buy a first class seat. I highly recommend those when flying American Airlines. I did last time and it makes a hella difference. His first class seats were fine by me, until we returned back to Dallas.
They wouldn't let me on his flight and if they did, I couldn't upgrade to first class even though there were 3 seats open. He couldn't switch to my flight, even though I sat next to no one on my flight.
The ticket counter personnel are just as bad as the ones you speak to on the phone.
Horrible.
They just don't care.
I was kind of happy we were not on the same plane because if I had to walk by him while he smirked in first class (doesn't it seem like every first class flyer is smirking when you walk by them to get to steerage?) I would have been jealously pissed.
After that debacle, we decided to go to the airport bar and watch the last half of the Fiesta Bowl. No food at the bar. None. They had run out. And it was a smokers heaven in the bar.
I was happy my flight came first and we were just going to meet up in DFW. When I took off, both our arrival gates were the same...
When we landed I was on the runway again for twenty minutes at gate A-29. Incredible was on the runway for ten minutes at gate C-27.
If you know DFW airport, you know this to be very far from each other.
I made the decision to leave my baggage at baggage claim since you have to exit TSA to get your bags and meet him at his gate. I took the Skylink.
Warning: when the man comes on and says 'hold on, we're about to take off'; HOLD ON.
It was like a roller coaster.
Finally, Incredible and I meet up, go back and get my luggage, chase down a shuttle to take us back to get his luggage.
Then chase the rental car shuttle---this is where I was yelled at because I was not running fast enough and apparently the reason why we had to wait another 20 minutes for the next shuttle.
OK---I was, of course, in heels. Y'all know this. But usually I can run in heels as if they were sneakers.
But, it's time for a story:
As I was biding time in Phoenix, shopping. I stopped into a DSW aka Heaven. I found Via Spiga purple suede heels. They are a dream. They were $150, marked down to $25.
HELLO?!?!
I hate running in new heels because what if they break or scuff and not all the world has seen them on my feet, yet?
Back to the airport---the moment he was yelling at me, was the moment I knew what it felt like to be on 'Amazing Race'.
The night did end with us at a bar watching the end of the West Virginia game. There was food and lots to drink.
What a crock of crap airline they are. I should have known better especially since they are losing money right now.
Did you know that they charge you to sky cap your luggage now? $3!
Did you know that they don't let planes take off unless there is a certain number of flight attendants on board?
I sat on the runway forever waiting for a sick attendants replacement on Christmas Eve.
Christmas Eve!! so you know there were not that many readily available to replace her.
So much fun I had on that plane. NOT. The passenger next to me (male) decided to read Maxim and Stuff magazines. He made it obviously clear that he was enjoying both of them.
HELLO?!?
The flight going, there were no snacks or drinks. What the...? Did the sick stewardess contaminate the beverage cart? That meant no drinks, no snack, nothing for the 2 hour, forty minute flight to Phoenix.
When Incredible used his frequent flyer miles to come out to Phoenix--he had to buy a first class seat. I highly recommend those when flying American Airlines. I did last time and it makes a hella difference. His first class seats were fine by me, until we returned back to Dallas.
They wouldn't let me on his flight and if they did, I couldn't upgrade to first class even though there were 3 seats open. He couldn't switch to my flight, even though I sat next to no one on my flight.
The ticket counter personnel are just as bad as the ones you speak to on the phone.
Horrible.
They just don't care.
I was kind of happy we were not on the same plane because if I had to walk by him while he smirked in first class (doesn't it seem like every first class flyer is smirking when you walk by them to get to steerage?) I would have been jealously pissed.
After that debacle, we decided to go to the airport bar and watch the last half of the Fiesta Bowl. No food at the bar. None. They had run out. And it was a smokers heaven in the bar.
I was happy my flight came first and we were just going to meet up in DFW. When I took off, both our arrival gates were the same...
When we landed I was on the runway again for twenty minutes at gate A-29. Incredible was on the runway for ten minutes at gate C-27.
If you know DFW airport, you know this to be very far from each other.
I made the decision to leave my baggage at baggage claim since you have to exit TSA to get your bags and meet him at his gate. I took the Skylink.
Warning: when the man comes on and says 'hold on, we're about to take off'; HOLD ON.
It was like a roller coaster.
Finally, Incredible and I meet up, go back and get my luggage, chase down a shuttle to take us back to get his luggage.
Then chase the rental car shuttle---this is where I was yelled at because I was not running fast enough and apparently the reason why we had to wait another 20 minutes for the next shuttle.
OK---I was, of course, in heels. Y'all know this. But usually I can run in heels as if they were sneakers.
But, it's time for a story:
As I was biding time in Phoenix, shopping. I stopped into a DSW aka Heaven. I found Via Spiga purple suede heels. They are a dream. They were $150, marked down to $25.
HELLO?!?!
I hate running in new heels because what if they break or scuff and not all the world has seen them on my feet, yet?
Back to the airport---the moment he was yelling at me, was the moment I knew what it felt like to be on 'Amazing Race'.
The night did end with us at a bar watching the end of the West Virginia game. There was food and lots to drink.
The Vacation
OK, I am back in the Big D. Yeehaw! As much as I love my family, I am so glad to be back in Texas (and away from them)
It was drama, drama, drama. There was good drama and bad.
My mom acted like a crazy all up until her party. She was cracking the whip and giving out orders left and right. There was never a moment to just sit back and relax before the party. Each time you thought a task was completed she came around and told you how it should be done and/or gave you a new task to start.
My party planning paranoia cannot even compare to what my mom was going through. Once the party began it was all good, especially since I only saw her once during midnight.
Yep, my friends, I was too busy hooking up with Incredible (in the bathroom, downstairs in the basement, our guest room)--what can I say?
My mom is liberal that she put us both in the guest room with the king size bed. What else were we going to do?
He surprised me by showing up in Phoenix to spend the new years with me (and the fam). Let's just say, I won't be complaining about him for awhile.
Then there was my brother and the drama he decided to bring to the table. He works as my mom's office manager. He has a crush on one of her employees. Everyone warned him to stay away, but did he listen? Hell to the no.
Plus, I cannot stand the girl. She never smiles and during the party, she never got into it and sat in a corner all night long, like a party pooper. Oh, well. I will wait for the moment when I get to say 'I told you so' to him.
One of my mom's good friends was also staying in the house with us. This woman can only be described as High Maintenance. She had nerve to order everyone around including me---what?!?!
Thank goodness she was going to the Fiesta Bowl and staying at a hotel that night prior to the game. I was so happy to drop her ass off.
All my mom's friends are kooks, but they were mad fun. Incredible enjoyed himself a lot.
I enjoyed myself a lil bit because let's be honest---families are embarrassing when you bring someone from the outside in to spend time with them, especially around the Holidays.
It was drama, drama, drama. There was good drama and bad.
My mom acted like a crazy all up until her party. She was cracking the whip and giving out orders left and right. There was never a moment to just sit back and relax before the party. Each time you thought a task was completed she came around and told you how it should be done and/or gave you a new task to start.
My party planning paranoia cannot even compare to what my mom was going through. Once the party began it was all good, especially since I only saw her once during midnight.
Yep, my friends, I was too busy hooking up with Incredible (in the bathroom, downstairs in the basement, our guest room)--what can I say?
My mom is liberal that she put us both in the guest room with the king size bed. What else were we going to do?
He surprised me by showing up in Phoenix to spend the new years with me (and the fam). Let's just say, I won't be complaining about him for awhile.
Then there was my brother and the drama he decided to bring to the table. He works as my mom's office manager. He has a crush on one of her employees. Everyone warned him to stay away, but did he listen? Hell to the no.
Plus, I cannot stand the girl. She never smiles and during the party, she never got into it and sat in a corner all night long, like a party pooper. Oh, well. I will wait for the moment when I get to say 'I told you so' to him.
One of my mom's good friends was also staying in the house with us. This woman can only be described as High Maintenance. She had nerve to order everyone around including me---what?!?!
Thank goodness she was going to the Fiesta Bowl and staying at a hotel that night prior to the game. I was so happy to drop her ass off.
All my mom's friends are kooks, but they were mad fun. Incredible enjoyed himself a lot.
I enjoyed myself a lil bit because let's be honest---families are embarrassing when you bring someone from the outside in to spend time with them, especially around the Holidays.
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