Ski Day! (Or: You can teach this girl new tricks)

So today was the day.

A day I would never have thought coming.

If you know me--you know I have an irrational fear of heights, elevators (I don't care if it's 26 stories to the top...if there are stairs, I will most likely be on them), and falling.

So if you had told me even three weeks ago that on December 20th, my ass would be in a ski lift--I would have suggested you go get medicated.

Oh how times have changed. I am a person who does enjoy learning and doing new things. Even if that psychic at Connor Prairie told me that I tend to be a "stick in the mud" (this is not fair..everyone has slow periods and if I choose to stay home and revisit my copy of On Royal and Papal Power or A Woman Named Jackie, that is my business), I find myself, as of late, shocking myself with the things I am taking on.

First with the skiing.

We get to Perfect North Slopes and there a good amount of people. We get our skis and boots (and away I go into the bathroom to put on my puffy pants--which thank god! I bought and wore...it would seem the black overalls were very popular. I was practically chic.) and we are off to our lesson. We took an hour with a very nice kid (17--drat) who taught us the basics. By the end of our lesson, Beth and I were feeling quite competent.

And this would lead to Rhea's Folly.

We go down the bunny slope 10 times or so...each time getting better and better and we start to think that "little" hill over there on the green lift doesn't look so bad. How wrong I was.

And no. I still loathe ski lifts. Dread them. Hate them. Petrified. There is nothing holding you in! And at one point they just STOPPED. I think I might have said "What the FUCK is going on!" a bit too loudly for a family place--but oh well. Some fears are hard to kill...and this one would mainly be the fear of my plummeting to my death from a tiny little swing.

The first time down the big hill was a fiasco. It didn't appear to be THAT high until I got up there. And then it seemed REALLY high and I might have had a small moment of "So.... this is how you are going to die? Well--at least it's interesting." I think it would have been better if I had just sat on my ass and scooted down. The second time was comical. To say I fell down is an understatement. I bit it. Hard. And at one point, no matter how hard I tried, I could not get up with out starting to slide freakishly fast in the backwards direction. I'm sure I looked the fool, but I was so frustrated that I started beating my skis with my poles while I was stuck on the ground. Reaching my breaking point (I believe at one point I wailed "All I want to do is stand up god dammit! Fuck these stupid skis! Assholes!!" Again--not the best vocabulary for kidlets--oh well. Curse words are like the wonderful little condiments of the English language..and I don't trust people who don't swear at some point. It's not natural.), I struggled to get the damn skis off my feet, snatched them up, and attempted to to go down the hill in my boots. This is the first time I hurt my knee. The second time I went down HARD and wrenched it, I literally heard something *pop*. My knee is now the size of a grapefruit--and I sit here with a bag of frozen blueberries on said knee hoping it will go down enough for me to be able to carry down my trash tomorrow morning.

But I survived--and Beth did really well! She is sure to impress her boyfriend on the slopes of Tahoe. Well, I would be impressed--but then again before today, I had never put on skis in my life. So maybe I am not the best judge...whatever. It's hard and she did great...and I didn't suck as bad as I thought I would, which is always a plus.

After skiing--we did the tubing thing. Again..mildly terrifying--but super fun. And really fast! We went down in tandem twice, which makes you go even faster.

Since I didn't die doing either one of these activities, and I now have the snow pants--I guess I'm up for such activities again. As long as you are okay with leaving me on the bunny hill and not mocking my squeal of terror while going down the massive hill while tubing, count me in--I'm game.

And now I am off to a hot bath to soak away the rest of my bumps and bruises.

Then it's back to the frozen veggie section in my freezer. Thank god I still have peas!

Surviving Hell Week, Moving on Wheels, and Snow Pants...(yes--Snow Pants)

So I made it.

Last week was that most wonderful point at the end of the semester where children sell their books back. If you aren't familiar with such a practice--consider yourself lucky. I think the lightest box I packed was around 60 pounds. And yes--I have to move these suckers. I guess I should count my blessings that I don't look like a Russian body builder or something.

Considering that I really had very high hopes of not going through yet another one of these god-awful-weeks from hell, well, I let myself get pretty pissed off at these kids. (Which means, my friends, it's REALLY time for me to find a new job.) If I had to hear from little Suzy Sunshine or Johnny Man on Campus how "I didn't even use this book...and I still passed." or "You don't have to really read this crap, why bother?" or better yet "The prof tells me everything I need to know to pass the tests...why should I do more work?" my head was going to explode. I'm sorry--higher education is NOT A RIGHT. I'm old school: if you can't appreciate the fact that someone is paying almost 100 K for you to go school-you do NOT deserve to be there. Go work at Dairy Queen until you can appreciate learning. I'm just so sick of people from the age of 16 to 25. Guess what? You aren't special, you aren't the best thing to ever happen on this planet, and your parents need to be beaten for creating monsters like you!

There. I'm done with that.

Now, here's a much better mental image for you: me doing laundry in my freaking skates. A girl has got to learn somehow, and why not in the house? The only thing that sucks is my hallway is rather short, so I'm doing a lot of stopping and starting. Oh! And a word of warning: Carpet = stopping. Stopping very fast, actually. What a thing to learn with arms full of folded clothing fresh from the dryer. I guess the good thing is that they, at the very least, padded my fall. The loverly bruise on my knee and on my lower rib cage? Well..they are finally fading to a delightful shade of putrid yellow. Nice. I'm beginning to think Amy and Brittany may be right: A helmet is probably a good idea. Even more funny was the fact that when I went to get my hair cut this morning, Anthony talked about sponsoring the Roller Derby teams in town and trying to learn to skate. I told him where I bought mine because he was having a hard time finding quad skates and I told him of my antics at trying to teach myself so far. After he stopped laughing, he said I should go talk to the girls, as they might need comic releif in the upcoming season.

Yeah..he's a funny guy, isn't he?

And since I am the clumsiest girl ever, of course it is a fantastic idea for me to go skiing tomorrow....

I'm sorry, just typing that made me laugh. Let's be honest here, Rhea will, in all probability, not be skiing. I will be falling. A lot. So there will be a veritable rainbow coloring my body in the near future. Of course, to go skiing, one needs pants. Snow pants.

Do you know how damn hard it is to find snow pants in this town? I finally found a pair of boys overall thingies in black at wal-mart (shudder....wal-mart mere days before christmas). So I've brought them home for the final test: Do they fit?

Oh. Dear. Jesus.

I look like an overcooked Stay Puff Marshmallow Man with breasts. But they fit. Put the the coat on....my new sensible water proof gloves...top it off with the hat...

And now I appear to be an overfed mental patient who has wandered free of the institution.

So much for looking like one of those cute little snow bunnies on the slopes. Since I can't ski--I had at least hoped to appear adorable enough for someone to stop and help me up when I inevitably fall on my ass.

Crap.

Can't I ever catch a break?

Status--Day One: Feeling Good! Just 11 more to go!

Weekend? What weekend?

Between working on Saturday (thankfully we weren't too busy...just busy enough) and then heading out to dinner and downtowning with some friends and then family stuff on Sunday..um. Yea. Where did my weekend go again?

The only bonus? My laundry is kind of caught up.

Kind of. I don't think I've been home for more than 3 hours (with the exception of sleep) in over two weeks. I should be tired..but I'm not.

Will wonders never cease?


So.

I'm on my way to being a gym rat. Well, sort of. Maybe.

I think I will still do my weights at home (tons of muscly type guys there last night working with the equipment..and while last night I was with a chatty bunch--and NOT shy at all, I am sort of the opposite with strangers. Especially when I'm sweating. And they are ripped enough to kill me with their bare hands.) but tonight, I think the rowing machine is calling my name.

Shocking tidbit: I almost did crew in college.

But they expected you to be up at the ass crack of dawn in the cold and then get in even colder water...needless to say, someone was delusional. And it wasn't me.

However, rowing is a fantastic way to tighten up..and since I like it, and they have a machine sitting right there, right there in front of the TV even, what's stopping me?

Nada.

My first night in I ended up doing a little over five miles on the bike and three miles on the elliptical. Not bad, not bad at all.

So..my goal is to do at least 9 miles tonight and the rowing machine.

I feel pretty good actually.

We shall see if this trend continues!

Oh! And the best part of my day (well..sort of this morning since I didn't get home until midnight)..my skates are here!

And yes, I did put them on and goof about in the house. Hmm. It's probably good that I live alone sometimes, huh?

Let the Bloodbath begin...

I'm about to do something potentially dangerous and stupid..but oh well.

Why wait until New Year's to start a resolution when I can do it now?

Thanks to my buddy Amy--I have a a twelve day pass to the uber nice Westview Healthplex...and as the title implies--well, it may not be pretty.

Methinks that I can put in at least an hour a two a day for 12 days straight.

I think I can...I think I can...

After all--what's the point of turning 30 if you won't enjoy it. Meaning..I want to make those 21 year old sorority girls pick their jaws up off the floor. Ha!

And maybe score their boyfriend's phone numbers while we are at it.

Why not? Stranger things have happened...but right now I can't think of any.

At this point, I'm really pumped about my new roller derby style skates..(they look like sneakers with wheels..how cool is that?). Now, they aren't My Little Pony (which I had) or Strawberry Shortcake (ditto), or even Riedells (which I also used to have..I actually used to be pretty good at this stuff), but they are fanfreakingtastically fun! And I'm sure will be the best way to keep the back looking as good as the front (skating does amazing things for the butt people..I'm not kidding).

So as Operation "Get My Ass Moving" starts this weekend, think of me.

And try not to laugh.

How I survived the Holiday (or: Black Friday shenanigans and you are never too old to 'back that ass up' and make a fool of yourself in public...)

Ah...Thanksgiving.

That wonderful American holiday of gorging oneself into a coma. (And don't blame the turkey, it's all in your blood sugar my friends.)It's a day of parades and (for the most part bad) football games, relatives that you like, and some that you don't. Like a family reunion for some, but with better food and less chance of getting food poisoning from eating some mayonnaise based salad that's been sitting outside in the sun for six hours....

You get the picture.

Turkey day morning, I rushed to the rents house, grabbed a (turns out uneaten) turkey breast and a ham that I then took home to cook in my own oven while I got ready. My house, well, let's just say it smelled AMAZING. Take said food out of the oven, get back to my parents house and let the feasting begin!

Oh wait. Apparently I'm the only one in the whole joint who knows how to carve an eighteen (and why we even had a turkey this big is beyond me) pound turkey. Damn you anatomy...you just keep sticking with me.

So yes, a few hours later, yours truly was in a sort of food coma. Not too bad though..I headed home and prepared myself for the dumbest thing (okay..I can think of way dumber now, but I couldn't at the time) I have ever done: Black Friday Shopping.

Yes children, I left my house at 5:15 am to get to stores. I went to Menards (and only for my grandmother..they had something she wanted to give as a gift there to some people that turned out to be crazy cheap...only for her did I go in after I say the craziness that was the parking lot) and got stocked up on some batteries (60 for less than 8 bucks!), that window cling stuff to keep the cold air out, some other nonsense--and 45 mins of standing in line later, I was free.

On to Target and one more stop and I was home by 9:45 am. Not too bad.

However, I will never go out like that again. Totally NOT worth it. I think I would have preferred to sleep in and enjoy my turkey day coma.

Saturday, headed off to work at the museum, and after helped Amy with her exterior lighting. With one exception of her almost falling head first into a giant bush, no one was hurt, the lights still worked after we got them up and looked really nice. Not jank at all. Thank god for light clips!

After the fun with lights, we decided to head into Broad Ripple for some bazbeaux and some people watching. Dinner was great, had some drinks, walked around some more, had some more drinks, sang along with the crap blaring over the sound system (see? I can still make a complete and total idiot of myself in public...), wondered very much out loud "Where are all the good looking men?? Not here, that's for sure." (again...dur), and called it a night about 1:30 and headed home.

And woke up Sunday morning at 7 am. What the hell?

No rest for the wicked I guess.

And now it's back to the salt mines and a mere 18 days of being trapped here listening to Christmas music.

If I don't kill myself first.

Holy crap--it's Monday again? Already?!?

That sums it up pretty nicely. It's no wonder time freaking flies--when you live in a cycle. Sometimes, I feel like my life has become Groundhog Day. Now all I need is Bill Murray in the seat next to me on my drive to work: "Don't drive angry!"

I've had a fairly eventful past few days, that's for sure. Let's start with the humiliation that was Thursday.

If you are in the pop-culture know (or are a 14 year old girl), you are aware that on Thursday at midnight, the second installment of the Twilight Saga was released

And yes. I was there. Carmen had to go at midnight--which is fine. I did it for Star Wars (remember that Beth--standing in those lines with all those guys hoping that the tix wouldn't sell out??) re-releases and the newer ones, too (The old ones are by far the best..and there is just something amazing about hearing that John Williams score. However, the best thing about the new movies? Ewan McGregor...), so I understand the desire to be "the first". Except we were like the first 1000 + to see this thing.

First off, it was a clusterfuck of madness. If the theater manager had worked for me--I would have fired them. Lines that made no sense, (you had to stand in line to pick up pre-paid tickets along with people who hadn't bought tickets...what in the hell is the point of that?), clearly not enough help at concessions (lines were over 40 mins long at the front one, I stood in line for 25 at the back one), and filth. The normally very clean Rave theater was disgustingly filthy. Sticky floors, dirty carpets, not so bad but could have been better bathrooms. Blech.

And screaming women (ages ranged from 5 to 60) EVERYWHERE. Women old enough to be my mom wearing "Team Edward" and "Team Jacob" shirts. And boys doing the same. Talk about disturbing. I know I pissed a woman in line off when I turned to Carmen and said at one point "I'm so glad our parents had sense. When I was 12 there is no way in hell they would let me go to a movie at midnight when I had to go to school the next day." I mean what's more important--school or a freaking movie? So they'll be pissed--step up and be a damn parent! Say NO to your damn children! I should mention this haggard looking woman had a gaggle of giggling little girls with her. She kept giving me the stink eye after my little speech. And you know I gave it right back. Idiot. Your children will grow up to be morons. Thanks ahead of time for that!

So we get to our seats (not bad, actually--except that they were kind of broken and wobbly), and I tell Carm that I have to have a real Coke and some popcorn if I'm going to make it through this debacle (no nap--that means Rhea was sleepy). I asked her if she wanted anything. Her response: "Ask them if they have any dignity. Or pride. Maybe both." She was kidding of course, but I really did think about asking for it when I ordered my snacks. The look of terror/horror/genuine fear on the girl's face led me to believe that she was not the person who would appreciate my attempts at wit, so I let it slide.

Movie plays, it's not bad. Not like the first one--which was ok. I have read the books, and they, with the exception of the last one, are pretty good. Do I feel the need to own them, the film, or any of the other stuff? Nope. I'm good. Besides, I can always borrow them from Carmen : ) Was it worth getting home after 3 am and having to be at work by 8 the next day? Hmm. Probably not.

So Friday wasn't as bad as I thought--I wasn't exhausted until Saturday night, so this is good. Got to leave work early as my check engine light came on (Do you know they wanted to charge me 87.50 for a diagnostic at the dealership?!?! Do I look stupid or something? As soon as I said I would just go across the street to AutoZone, they changed their tune..). Apparently it's my thermostat--the car isn't getting warm enough? I've never heard of such a thing, and they said they could fix it for 127.50. Or I got the book out, looked it up, bought the thermostat for 11.50 + tax and fixed the damn thing myself. How handy am I? Damn handy. Changed the air filter while I was at it, too. When sharing this information, I was told this is why I can't get a boyfriend--they know I really don't need a man around. While I am adept at most manual tasks, well, let's put it this way, a girl can't do everything by herself.....but back to Friday.

After getting the spiel from the dealership, I headed up to Amy's house and we headed out to the International Festival. I ate yummy masala and a samosa (yum), had some cultural fun watching dancers, looking at all the stuff, and bought myself a Japanese good luck cat. It has kittens on it, too. Very cute. And it better work.

Saturday was supposed to be the day I put together the blanket that I'm making for my aunt and uncle for x-mas, but that didn't happen due to my mother. We went shopping and she spent her money--I chauffeured. I left home around 11:30, didn't get back until after nine. So much for that day.

Sunday was the football viewing party (of which I did not watch much football...YOU'RE WELCOME COLTS FANS--cause if I had, Baltimore would be very happy today). I was supposed to go to a lecture at the museum around 4, too, but time got away from me and I looked down and it was after 4:30! Oops. So Amy and I went to Target where again, she shopped and I drove. (However, Target once again carries Kids and Pets!! This is the best stuff ever for stains, carpets, etc. Of course I bought some!) Got back to her house and watched the story of my life, aka "The Holiday", and then I headed home. Ooh! Don't anyone ever tell you those card things for discounts aren't worth it! My Qdoba card got me a free burrito last night. How awesome is that?

And now it is Monday of a Holiday week. At least I don't have to be here all day on Wednesday.

Is it Wednesday yet?

Please?

Dollar Store Drama...it doesn't get better than this!

Okay--this is almost embarrassing to admit, but I love wandering through those Dollar Tree type stores (Where EVERYTHING is a dollar!). Having a bad day? Want to feel better about yourself? Get thee to the dollar store!

Let me say--there are certain things I'm kind of cheap about. Trash bags are one of them. Why should I spend 10.00 on 40 bags that I am just going to THROW AWAY! It is literally throwing money away. So I buy cheap trash bags, sue me. Sometimes you can get lucky and find useful things, too. But mostly junk. I don't really condone buying canned goods (one, you can get store brand cheaper at the grocery store dummies, two, most of it comes from outside of the US where health/safety factors may not be as strict) at such a place. Or a pregnancy test.

Don't worry. We'll get back to that one in a minute.

And that whole feeling better about yourself? Absolutely! Last time I was there, they had pink sharpie markers (which I LOVE) and so I was buying one or two with my trash bags when I am nearly run over by this overly made up blond amazon in a shredded CSI t-shirt barely hanging on by one shoulder and jeans so tight I'm shocked she could bend over. The blond is stocking up on some outdated mascara and bonnie bell lip gloss (Yes--sometimes you can get brand name stuff here-that's part of the fun. You never know what in the hell you are going to find...). I look down at this person's feet: Gnarly!! Ugh. Grody toenails (which make me GAG faster than anything else) and ginormous feet in ugly Jesus sandals! I thought this poor girl needs a pedi pronto and then looked up at "her" face.

"She" was no girl, but a 16 to 18 year old boy with a bleached blond bob, Tammy Faye mascara, bright blue eyeliner (ooooohhh, Princess Di is rolling in her grave), a five o'clock shadow, and hot pink lipstick. Like hot pink lipstick I wore playing dress up in 1986. Oh. Dear. Lord. Oh how did I happen to stumble upon this fantastic find?!?! I was deliriously excited as he/she had attitude like no other. While paying for his goodies, his phone rang...he answered with this: "Hey Sexy! Wait. Why aren't you talking like normal. What? Are you around your stupid football friends? Are you ashamed of me? I swear to God, this is the last time I'm meeting up with you if you don't buy me more stuff to make up for it!" This last part was almost not heard by humans because it was so high pitched. I'm sure there were dogs losing their minds a few blocks over in Meadowood. I'm also quite sure his secret jock high school boyfriend would die if any of his friends knew he was hitting a Malibu Ken doll.

With grody feet.

There was a pause in the screeching, and then he must have been placated because he made kissy noises in to the phone and promised to meet his "love" later that night.

Barf. (This is how I feel about anyone making an ass of themselves by making the above noises and using pet names in public places where others can hear. Listen up "babies" talking to your "sugars"--that's none of my damn business! I don't want to know, nor do I care. I also don't want to vomit.)

The best part of this scenario? The little old lady in front of me who clearly needed glasses. Why? Cause she turned to me and said "She'll never get a husband if she keeps painting herself up like that. Why she looks like a floozy!"

Seriously people--does it get any better??

Yes. Yes it does.

As I was paying $3.21 for my markers and trash bags, this dude who looked like he had just crawled out from under a dump truck came and stood behind me to ask the cashier:

"Do y'all sell pregnancy testing sticks?"

ha ha ah ah ah hahahahahahahahhaahhaha

Okay. I didn't laugh at the time, but I barely made it out the door because the look on the girl's face was priceless. It radiated "Dear God--someone had sex with you on PURPOSE?!? I have to admit I had the same feelings, but I was even more shocked by her answer:

"Um. Yes. On aisle six."

So there you go kids--if you are ever in a pinch and want to know if there's a baby involved and are low on cash, no worries.

Just head to the dollar store : )

But don't say I didn't warn you when that test tells you you're birthing a pair of pandas.

Busy, busy girl!

Sometimes, you just have to say "You know what? I'm tired of this crap.." and start turning things around.

That would be me.

The "crap" would be just life in general.

So, my new mantra is to be Busy Girl. I want to have places to go, people to see, and to find out if I truly lost the ability to flirt with extremely good looking men when I was three. (Now that's a story for another time--sorry!)

But to recap the last few days...Friday I worked until freaking 1 am. At work. Boo. Now this wouldn't have been so bad if I had gotten into bed before 2 am on Friday morning. C'est la vie...whatever and ever, amen.

Saturday, I worked a hopping day at the museum, then headed home (again, with just a few hours of sleep under my belt), meaning to hit Starbucks on the way, but forgot--oops--and made myself up as Cleo. I didn't look half bad, actually. When Amy picked me up (she was a Border Patrol officer--hehe), she said I looked like Liz Taylor with my dark hair and green eyes (or maybe it was green eyeshadow and big girls....but you get the picture). Yup. I even wore a wig. I kind of liked the way I looked with black hair. The bangs were kind of cute, too. But I don't think I'm willing to give up my signature shade quite yet. And wigs are itchy--but if it was just for a few hours, it could be fun. Wait--it was fun!

So we hit the party (with tons of people in kick ass costumes--mostly couples, but really fun and nice). Had a little adventure getting home on the rural roads of Hendricks, Boone, and Marion counties--but we made it back in one piece.

Sunday was a lazy day of working on the resume and cover letter for the new job prospects (hopeful, hopeful, hopeful). Met up with some people for dinner/drinks (always a good time), and was home at the somewhat reasonable hour of 11:30. But since we switched back to Standard Time--it felt like 12:30. Ahhh...driving home in the dark at 5:30. Fun times. Winter, she's definitely a coming.

Monday--well, Monday was amazing. Awesome. So very good.

Left work a little bit early (always a bonus), met up with the ladies at Yats for a pre-show dinner of Chicken Creole (oooh Yats--why are you so good? And cheap...). Then we headed over to Clowes to hear the Swell Season (they had an opener..Mark Dunning I think was his name? I have his CD in my car--he was really good, too). This was an amazing show. I'm so glad Jonelle brought it up. I'm now addicted to Glen Hansard's voice...even though he sounds pretty much like he does on the CD--this guy puts on a great performance. If you get the chance to see them--you totally should check it out.

So that's been the last few days. I even snuck in some X-mas shopping for Carm, Mom and Dad at the Bookstore. What can I say, you can never have too much Butler stuff!

I'm hoping for good news in the next few weeks. And for a busy schedule!

Surviving the Headless Horseman...

It's that time of year again..Halloween.

Not my favorite holiday by a long shot (even as a kid--I really didn't have that much of a sweet tooth). I always feel weird dressing up.

But this year--I'm going to embrace it. (More on that later)

Last night, Brittany, Amy, and myself headed over to Conner Prairie for an Indy Hub thing. $15.00 gets you dinner, two drinks, s'mores, AND a Haunted Hayride? Sign me up! It was fun hanging out with them...being silly scoping out potentials in the crowd (there were, sadly, very, very few). And then I got some dirt on someone that Amy and I both know (well..I know--and she's met) and didn't know we both knew(freaking small world), and I laughed my head off at the ridiculousness that is life.

Oh--we also had our palms read. Apparently I have "hidden talents" that I need to explore. And I can be a stick in the mud (aren't they supposed to tell you things that are going to happen--not things you already know?? I mean..it's true--but whatever). I will have a long and happy life, once I find my course career wise, I will do it for the rest of my life (and well), and I have a love line like "The Grand Canyon"--very deep. So when I find it--it's for good. He's stuck with me. Ha!

So we had our drinks, about got smoked out by the smokey fire making s'mores (and Amy was accosted by an obnoxious blonde sorority type girl "Oh my god! Are you his friend on FB? I'm totally NOT his friend. His girlfriend is heinous. I mean..it's like she's a personal attack to me. Gag." That. My friends, is pretty much verbatim.), rode along for a pleasant hay ride and then, after that was all said and done, played some pool. I got home at 1:30 this morning--and I'm dragging a little bit. Especially since I will be at work until at least 10 pm tonight.

No rest for the wicked girl.

Tomorrow, I'm manning my post at the museum (joy--can't wait to see the freakshows that walk through the doors tomorrow!)and then I get to haul ass home to transform myself in to Cleopatra--Queen of Denial (word play-fun stuff). I even sprung for the wig! It shall be quite hilarious, I'm sure. I've got a fake snake thing that goes around my head, long flowing gown thing with stuff down the center of it, a collar, and some Teal eyeshadow that y'all will see for days! I'm going to have gold nails, too--if I can muster up the energy. But the toes have to be done for my sandals.

So this year--I'm going all out.

Hopefully I don't look too much like an ejit!

No sir...I will NOT step on you!

So the other day I get this e-mail from a dude who uses a picture of a little blonde haired blue eyed cherub of a little girl as his profile pic (probably his granddaughter--which makes the following even more creepy). His name was Darrell. I'm pretty sure that's how he spelled it. His subject line was "please read". What can I say..I'm naive.

So I opened it.

To find the following:

"would you ever step on someone you didn..t know if they ask?"

Darrell...Darrell...Darrell. Perhaps you should go hang out with your other brother or spend time with your kid or your wife and stop trolling online for perverts. (And let me just say I was not stupid enough to reply--but rather reported him as Spam and blocked him from pretty much everything. Sorry 56 year old creepy mccreepster...I've got no patience for weirdos.)

The answer to that, by the way, would be no.

Apparently I am like catnip to the the freaks on the interweb.

The post season...

...it certainly doesn't do THIS body any good.

In fact--it's been hell.

So let me just lay it all out there for those of you who don't know. I am a New York Yankees fan. I have been since I was a kid. I am not ashamed to say I have t-shirts, hats, big (enormous, actually) comfy sweatshirts and socks. I think me wearing any one of these articles of clothing does, in fact, have magical powers that allow for home runs and amazing wins. I have two fuzzballs named Jeter and Yogi. If all of that doesn't prove my dedication--what will? Season tickets? Hmmmmm....

When you move from Indianapolis (let's face it..in 1987, the Colts were a joke and baseball? Where? Oh that's right--you risked being mugged or being killed by falling through the floors by going out to the old Indian's home on 16th street) to Houston, Texas and are faced with the atrocity that was, at that time, the Astros, you pick a someone else to root for--quick. I chose my Uncle's team. Growing up in Hawaii in the 40's..you didn't have much choice on radio stations coming in to the islands. What always came through crystal clear? Yankees baseball. He's a lifer...and has probably made a lifer out of me.

However--this does not mean I didn't enjoy being taken to Oilers games. One, it meant all the junk/crap food my dad could get in to me as this was during my mother's "everything should be fat free" period. And two,every time they would score (rare...very rare occurrences) they would blare "Houston Oilers! Houston Oilers! Houston Oilers Number One!" from the sound system. Now. Imagine a giant overgrown dancing oil derrick--and you've got yourself a show any kid will love.

But back to the Yankees. Quite frankly I waned for a few years, but then, well--they've had me since Don Mattingly. Sure, the old guys were okay in their day (I'm still waiting to one day name a dog Whitey Ford....when that happens--I can die happy...and if Pride of the Yankees comes on--oh hell. I will spend the rest of the day weeping.), but Don and that mustache? No contest. It makes me sad that he's not on the bench anymore--but he and one of my favorite all time guys Mr. Torre have done pretty well for themselves with the Dodgers. I still think letting them go was one of the most stupid things George ever did--but then again, George does a LOT of stupid things. Like letting his son in law run the show and dancing in that MasterCard commercial...but I digress.

In the last ten days, I have been up watching baseball for it seems like eternity--and we are just at game three in this series against the Angels. Up two games...just two more to go. All I ask? Make it quick--please? I don't know how much more I can take. And while I enjoy popcorn and PBR (baseball necessities)--I don't know if making it a steady diet will be to anyone's advantage. I'm veggie deprived...and I look like I'm sporting two matching black eyes from lack of good sleep. Sexy, huh?

I imagine once we get to the World Series--I will being to resemble a walking corpse. The things we do for the things we love....

Oh dear god..it's creeping up on me....

So. Tonight I received an e-mail from one of my nearest and dearest reminding me that in the (very) near future (mere months..four months to the day, actually), I will no longer be able to claim membership in the "Late Twenties" club.

Now. I was told not to argue with her in her pursuit (I won't Beth..I promise.), and I will honor that request.

On the outside.

On the inside? As the title says:

Oh. Dear. God.

I cannot believe that I will have been on this earth for--thirty freaking years. Thirty years of taking up space, breathing precious oxygen, and not really getting much accomplished.

Holy shit--where DOES time go?

So. I have four months to prepare myself. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining about getting older, that's really not the issue. (Okay..I'm kind of lying here, but whatever.) More importantly, it's the loss of time that is freaking me the hell out. On my list of things I want to accomplish with my life--there's really not that much checked off. Sigh. I will have to lament on that later...

But thanks for the wake up call universe!

It's time to get what's mine, so stand back, yo! I'm coming for it!

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

Well. One more day.

One more day of solitude.

Thank god Janet will be back here tomorrow. And I will have some chocolate peeps waiting on her desk.

Because I am so thankful she is back.

I had no idea how simply exhausting working day in, day out, jumping up and down a thousand times a day, unpacking, repacking, paperwork, scheduling--blah, blah, blah really is when you have to do it all by yourself.

Except for the fact I'm being shipped off to Terre Haute on Friday (inventory--yea fun), this week should be okay. Thursday is a day off. I will be able to get all the fall stuff up and outside done, finish up on the household chores and just enjoy my day.

So not exactly the most exciting or nail biting of posts..but what can you do?

Now that I have time to think..hopefully this will change!

Chemical warfare...

It's not something I like to admit--but I am TERRIFIED of spiders.

Especially ones big enough you can see their eight buggy eyes staring back at you, mocking you.

"You scared of me little girl?!? He he he."

You're damn right I'm scared of you arachnid. And with good reason.

(Now, I feel like I should preface the following by saying if they are little small spiders, the kind that tend to get into the house, I am not such a chicken. I smash them, flush them, and wash my hands about a thousand times. A good Buddhist, I will never make.)

Saturday, after a long day at work--and very (how sad--I had hopes) uneventful evening I come home to see a giant spider web in the door way leading up to my landing. No spider. "Well that's just disgusting" I said (out loud of course...I seem to have lost the ability for internal dialogue these days) and went up to get my broom to remove the offensive thing from the door frame. As I come down the stairs...I see it. It drops down to the middle of the web, turned it's head, saw me, and started to drop down a little further, like he wanted a better look.

And yes, I shrieked like a banshee and hightailed it back up the stairs almost in tears.

Okay. Go ahead. Have yourself a good laugh at my expense.

This thing was HUGE. A monster, really. I think it was about as big around as a half dollar (this is NOT including it's legs...)

Well--what happened next, I'm not proud of.

I keep a bottle of Ortho Home Defense right outside on my front porch. I spray around my light fixtures and such as it keeps moths and other stupid buggy type things away from my house. This stuff is simply amazing. It works for weeks at a time. Awesome, right? Right. So, I grab my bottle and before I lose my nerve, I run back down the stairs, bottle raised like a weapon and start spraying. It was like a scene out of Natural Born Killers and I was the one leading the massacre.

I sprayed at the spider dead (ha ha) center on its web--and he almost immediately fell to the ground. *Cough* *Hack* he seemed to be saying as he stumbled drunkenly around on the concrete. I kept spraying "Die! Why won't you just die!?"

I pleaded with him to give up. About two minutes of spraying later (Yes--overkill.I'm totally aware of this.), he did. And I was relieved.

Until I turned around and saw another big hairy monster glaring at my back.

Needless to say, there was another round of spraying, this one not quite so long due to the fact that there was a chemical lake on the landing that nothing could have survived a swim through, no matter how determined. I then sprayed the nasty looking nest like web this guy had crawled out of and snuck back upstairs.

This morning, as I left for work, I noticed all remnants of the spiders were gone--had been cleared away as if they had never even been there.

And god willing, they never will be again.

At least not until I can get another bottle of bug spray. It would seem I'm out at the moment.

Honest answers--there's a reason no one wants to hear them...

So the other day--I was presented with a question that I was, at first, stumped to answer:

"What are you looking for in, you know, a guy?"

My first response was flippant (as usual)--"That when we go to dinner, he doesn't call to check in with his wife...” ba-dum-dum.

I then went on to say the stuff that we are expected to say: A nice person, caring, responsible, blah, blah, blah. (Hey--it least it wasn't that Jerry McGuire line of BS of "someone who completes me...” That would be a conjoined twin--and be thankful you don't have one. That not the case? Then you should head to a shrink because you have serious issues with your self esteem if you base your idea of happiness on a second rate Hollywood crap fest. God--people are so lame. Huh. Guess I'm not helping any with that, am I?)

But really? Truly? Hmm. After much pondering, I realized what I should have said to my buddy:

I want someone who enjoys unloading the dishwasher. I have no problems cooking, cleaning up after dinner, etc-but if the dishwasher needs unloading--it is all suddenly "too much" work. I will cram dirty dishes in with clean just so I don't have to unload the stupid thing which, in my kitchen, takes all of two seconds. I can't explain it--but there you have it.

Next on the list--laundry putter-upper. I actually enjoy doing laundry. I don't even mind ironing napkins, table cloths and the like. But--putting clean laundry away? It's. Pure. Torture. Aaaagh. Why do I have so many damn clothes??! That need to be put away? They are neatly folded, mind you (I do not wad things up in a basket. They are folded as soon as they come out of the dryer--the key to avoiding wrinkles), but put up? Hmm. Is someone coming over? Then yes. Begrudgingly.

There are other little things. Like a person who would just sigh bemusedly as they water the plants (I am prone to forget plants require such attention..I love gardening--but I'm not so good at the upkeep). Oh! And run the vacuum a few times a week..I LOATHE the vacuum. I can't explain it. I do it....but I hate every stinking second of it. I'd rather scrub a floor on my hands and knees than vacuum. Funnier still? The vacuum hates me, too. Don't ask.

It sounds like I want a maid. Hmmm. That's not true--I guess someone that's cool in sharing the mundane, because let's be honest...it can't be heart thumping sweaty fun time all the time. Damn. Just writing those words makes me sad...very sad. Sigh.

Also? He doesn't yell at me because of wilted pansies or the sight of me sneaking dirty dishes in with the clean..just because I'm too much of a bum to unload the damn thing. No. He will shake his head and wonder "what did I do to deserve this awesomeness that is my life?"

I don't know--but it must have been good.

Kitchen not-so-confidential, horoscopes, and a pig in shorty shorts.

First off--let me tell you of my love of Stephen Pastis. His blog is totally worth checking out as he is...well, hilarious.

Don't know who he is? Umm...I take it you don't read comics like moi. I'm a big fan of Pearls. Today's struck me as especially funny, so I felt the need to share. I think Pig and I have the same problem. Unfortunately, unlike Pig, I KNOW the centrifugal force of the earth isn't going to get me into my skinny jeans any time soon. Damn. But it's a nice thought. Wouldn't the world be wonderful if this were true? Oh well...back to grind. One of these days, I'm going to be one of those work out every day kind of people. Maybe. Hopefully. Okay--not until someone hires me a personal trainer--let's be honest.

Also from today's inbox: My "Accurate" 2009 Horoscope. (Whorescope might just be a better name for it. Seriously.)

AQUARIUS - Does It In The Water
Trustworthy. Attractive. Great kisser. One of a kind, loves being in
long-term relationships. Can be clumsy at times but tries hard. Will
take on any project.. Proud of themselves in whatever they do. Messy
and unorganized. Procrastinators. Great lovers, when they're not
sleeping. Extreme thinkers. Loves their pets usually more than their
family. Can be VERY irritating to others when they try to explain or
tell a story. Unpredictable. Will exceed your expectations. Not a
Fighter but will Knock your lights out.. 2 years of bad luck if you do
not forward

Well. I can't argue with the trustworthy part. Attractive? Depends on the day, but vanity screams "Yes, yes, yes!". Clumsy? If you've met me--you know this is 200% correct. Some days I don't think I could pass one of those drunk driving field tests sober. Proud of myself? Not usually, no. I do take offense to the messy part. Mainly because it's true. Dirty? No. I'm a notorious stacker of paper. Mail. Magazines. Books. But most days, you could eat off my kitchen floor without hazard. (I have to agree with a very, very smart woman--a role model, really--the former director of the museum where I spend a lot of my time: A clean desk = an empty mind. Here here!)As for the rest of it, well. You can read. (And yes--I hope it's true! What can I say--I'm a sucker for tarot card wielding gypsies...)

So last night, I had the urge to do something. Well...cook, really. But what does one make at 10 pm while watching true crime junk from her Tivo? Well, let's put it this way I had brown bananas that needed to be used and...blueberries mocking me in the refrigerator("Remember us?!?" Ooohh--so sorry, nope--not ringing a bell. This is what happens when I go grocery shopping hungry.). This doesn't sound good does it? Well, you are wrong. It is..a masterpiece. Banana Blueberry Muffins ala me. A whiff of vanilla, a hint of cinnamon, the background of banana and the bursting blueberries. Heaven. They are so very, very good! I'm actually sad I only brought one with me to work today to have for breakfast. (I had to cut back on the poptarts...dear god--I had no idea how much fat was in two small unfrosted poptarts! Yikes!!) This is something that I definitely will be keeping in my repertoire, that's for sure.

If I can't wow you with my smarts--I will win you with my muffins! Ha!

Taking things into my own hands...

Some people out there know that I've been on the hunt for a job now for well over a year and half.

Yesterday--I applied for two positions.

Guess what was waiting in my inbox this morning?

Just guess.

Here--I'll share them with you:

Dear Rhea,

Thank you for your interest regarding the Marketing Manager opening. Although you bring many qualities with you as a candidate, after consideration we have determined there is not a suitable match between your skills and our needs.

Although you are no longer being considered for this position, you may still be under consideration for other positions for which you have applied. If you have not applied for any other positions, we encourage you to do so. There are many different career opportunities available at Red Gold. Please visit our website, at www.redgold.com to view all current career openings.

We are truly pleased that you have considered pursuing a career with XYZ Tomato Corp and wish you the best in your job search and future endeavors.

Sincerely,

Human Resources Department


And here's another:

Rhea,

Thank you for taking the time to submit your resume. Your qualifications have been updated and reviewed against our openings. Unfortunately, we have identified other candidates who more closely meet our requirements at the present time. However, your information will remain active in our system and will be considered as appropriate. If your skill set is identified as a potential fit for future opportunities, you will be contacted promptly for further discussion.

Again, thank you for your time and interest in our company. I wish you success in obtaining the position you desire.

Sincerely,

Human Resources

I notice who ever spit out the form e-mail was too chicken to use their name in both cases. Note to you at Leaky Faucet, Inc : If you are going to sign an e-mail as being from "Human Resources", then you shouldn't use "I" in the preceding paragraph. "We" would have been the better choice. Maybe you should read the one from the tomato people above. It gets right to the point "We think you suck."

But here's the thing.

I don't suck, thank you very much. Not at all. I want to prove myself. To work in an environment where I actually (gasp) work hard and feel productive. I have lamented on my work ethic before (Apparently, I feel the need to "work too much". Pish.), but shouldn't it at least get my foot in the door somewhere? Good help is really not that hard to find people! Hello! Here I am!

So. Self promotion is shameless--but whatever. You know what they say about desperate times?? Without further adieu-here we go. Read it and weep. Like it? Drop me a line. Know a friend of a friend who needs a position filled? Feel free to let me know. (Since it's cut and paste--don't make fun of format!)

Summary

Hard working, motivated, goal oriented professional with over nine years of hands on retail management experience in the college bookstore industry, as well as experience in research and development of programs for the not-for-profit organization. Documented proven results in development of marketing initiatives, customer service, sales growth and managing a fully diversified staff. I feel that I have a diverse background of work experiences to bring with me into a new position. I have developed strong communication skills and excel at building and maintaining professional relationships—the true key to success in modern business. I am a fast learner and self-starter, with outstanding presentation skills and a strong commitment to customer service—both internal and external. My intent is to not only do my job well, but to exceed expectations.

Work History

Follett Higher Education Group, Oakbrook, IL Aug. 1999 to Present
FHEG is the nation’s largest collegiate retail bookstore company with over 800 locations within the United States and Canada serving various sized institutions of higher education. I have held several management positions within the company including, but not listed, Student Store Supervisor at Butler University (1999-2003) and Specialty Store Manger for the NCAA Hall of Champions (2003-2005).

Field Manager Franklin College Bookstore 2006 to Present
• Manage all aspects of cultivating sales on a campus of approximately 1000 students including textbook management, general merchandise product lines, software sales, employee development and training, customer service management, and implementing corporate initiatives.
• Exceeded budgeted sales for Fiscal Year 2008 by over 15%.
• Work to promote the Bookstore to faculty and students in order to nurture/increase financial growth by persistent marketing initiatives that I developed in house specifically for the Franklin College Bookstore.
• Manage a diverse staff of part time students and full time employees.
• Received recognition for having one of the top 15 percentile textbook departments in the company—along with a consistent Used Text Ratio of over 50% (average is 30% or less).
• Successfully meets budgets provided by corporate.
• Maintain and expand upon relationships with contacts at the College in order to benefit sales to the Bookstore.

Assistant Field Manager UIndy Bookstore 2005-2006
• Consistently reviewed purchase analysis and P&L statements, reconciling invoices and credits with corporate accounts payable/accounts receivable.
• Monitored the store’s financial performance via weekly/monthly benchmarking.
• Developed a relationship with the store’s general merchandise buyer to increase growth and maintain sales within the department.
• Managed and scheduled a staff of 15+ for all departments of the store.
• Was responsible for all AR done through the store—worked extensively with various state agencies and the VA to collect outstanding payments.

Indiana Medical History Museum March 2000-Present
The Indiana Medical History Museum is a privately run 501 c 3 organization located on the grounds of the former Central State Hospital. With a full time staff of one, the museum allows for personal growth and professional development within its part time staff and volunteers.

Museum Marketing/Public Relations
• Working with local media outlets, webmasters, and vendors to promote and capture market share for the museum with exhibits, special events, and lectures.
• Develops new relationships with donors, sponsors and community partners to ensure the continuation of events and exhibits.

Docent/Collections Researcher/Special Event Planning IMHM
• Provide tours to visitors to the museum of all ages and group size.
• Research items donated to the museum’s collection, and enter collected information into the museum’s database system, Past Perfect.
• Work with the director to develop and expand programs offered.
• Set up and write press kits for distribution.
• Create the copy for exhibits/exhibit set up.
• Developed summer educational program for children.

Education

Masters of Business Administration, Marketing

Graduate Certificate in Marketing Studies
University of Indianapolis, Indianapolis, IN
July 2008

Completed extensive coursework focusing on Marketing and Public Relations, and created several highly appraised marketing plans. Placed a special emphasis on not-for-profit organizations, public relations, and branding initiatives.

Bachelor of Arts, History
Butler University, Indianapolis, IN
May 2003

The curriculum allowed for the development of writing and research skills that have proven to be invaluable in my professional career. Received various scholarships and departmental awards based on the high quality of undergraduate work. Both wrote and presented papers at the annual Butler University Undergraduate Research Conference in 2003.

Computer Skills
•Microsoft Word, Excel, PowerPoint, and Publisher. Microsoft Windows OS, exceptional Internet research skills.

Professional Organizations

Member of the American Marketing Association, Indianapolis Chapter.



Yes, yes--long for a blog posting, I know, I know...but whatever it takes, that's what I'm willing to do. Tenacity is nothing to be ashamed of.

Unicorns, indeed!

There are some things I will never, ever admit to.

Hair color? Yes--that would be one of them. I've been a red-headed-minx since 1996..and I think I stay within the realm of ruby because it looks like, well, me.

So when I read this today while wasting some time on CNN, I felt the need to share:

http://www.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/wayoflife/09/15/tf.why.men.love.redheads/index.html (I'll try to give you a direct link, too--but it didn't work the first time for some reason...)



It made me smile--and though I'm not exactly the "real mccoy", I would dare you to call me anything else to my face.

Seriously--I dare you.

Weekend Fun...

Had by all--and not just me, I hope?

With the exception of Friday and Yogi's turning into the child from the Exorcist at the vet (He did not do so well...at all. The upside of his tantrum? The vet got a great look at his "very pretty teeth" with all the hissing that was going on.) and his carrier coming apart when I was trying to get him in the house (this catastrophe resulted in the lovely set of three inch scratches on my arm..he was so terrified he climbed me like a monkey) it was a pretty uneventful Friday--the best kind after a long week of work.

(As for the furball's bad attitude, it has been recommended to that on all vet trips in the future, I have to bring both boys--which is fine. Jeter likes to go to the vet to flirt with all the techs. Trust me, I'm not kidding about this. I also had no idea Yogi was that much of a little monster! Or that he weighed almost 13 pounds! He's NOT fat--and yet I still got "the lecture". Kitties, dear vet, are not furry Kate Mosses. They are supposed to be a bit chubby. Silly me was worried that he was underweight. Shows what I know, huh?)

Saturday, well, Saturday was the perfect day for Penrod. Carm and I got there about 9:30, so by Noon (when it was starting to get crazy crowded), we were done and ready to go. We saw all kinds of stuff--she got a great deal on a framed photo, I got a similarly good deal, but my photo isn't framed...so guess who will be shopping for mats and frames this week? (I say frames because I got a cute print of a winter tree full of all kinds of birds for mom...)

So we walked around, saw all kinds of pottery that I would love to own, but don't really have the $$ for. I also saw the girl from Zionsville who has the amazing oils of various kinds of flowers and stuff--but my favorite would still be the field of poppies...One day, I will have the 1200.00 to drop on that one....well, I better, anyway. Speaking of Zionsville..I think I will have to make a trek up there to poke around. I haven't really ever done much of that, and I've been going there my whole life. Pathetic, huh? I think maybe a snack at the Friendly might be calling my name sometime soon, that's for sure.

Also good this weekend? Butler won! I can't believe it! 2-0! That and the Bears, Notre Dame, and Purdue lost! Ha!! There--I'm doing my victory gloat. I don't get to do it very often, so cut me some slack!

Sunday was busyish. I did get up and walk for about 4.5 miles (be proud Beth..be proud). Usually, this gives me boundless energy, but not this time. I got home, ate some breakfast, and crashed on the couch to watch the F1 race (this...I do not want to talk about--how do you go from pole to crashing on the last lap practically!! argh..I reiterate--it's best left unsaid). But then I had to get dolled up for a reception at the Woodstock Club so hair was done, nails were touched up (best as I could since I've managed to chop a bit of my left thumb off), put on a black skirt, stacked heels, new hose (which got a run in them before I got home...and they were new really nice ones that I ordered online! Boo!!! So now I have a thigh high with no mate....sad--very sad), very cute white sweater with an asymmetrical collar with onyx looking buttons...like I said, very nice. Got lots of compliments--so I guess it was a keeper as far as outfits go. After that, headed out to dinner, went home and I crashed.

Which means I woke up about 4:30 this morning.

All I can say is thank god for coffee!!

Some oldies--but goodies...

So I'm going to repost some entries from another site..this one is from April of this year. I enjoyed it so much--I figured I would share (and NO! I am NOT being lazy!!):

An Open Letter to the City Planners of Indianapolis

To Whom it May Concern:

While not a life long resident, our fair city of Indianapolis is where I have chosen to make my home--more specifically on the Westside. I love enjoying the amenities of a larger city (think Chicago without the pretentious assholes and you will get what I mean) while not feeling like I'm going to be knifed while walking downtown. Or having to pretend I don't see homeless people urinating on buildings--because they don't do that here. Well, not in the daylight, anyway. This, sir or madam, is a special combination indeed. We are lucky that we get to live here.

That said: WTF. No. Seriously. WTF. Do you want to drive people to madess? My once 40min commute can now take up to an hour and half. Why?

Because someone had their head up their ass in your office, that's why.

"Dur..I know--before the hightest grossing sporting event in the world, let tear out the whole west side of 465..and take 136 down to one lane, AND not have the 21st street bridge finished. Doesn't that sound like a good idea?"

And the ass monkeys that work for this idiot and jumped and down and clapped and said, "Yes, yes!!" And then were told to sit and were rewarded with cookies. (At least..this is how I imagine these types of meetings going. Probably way more entertaining than the truth, but whatever--it makes me feel better about the situation)

Here's an idea for you: Why don't you finish one project before you start another one? Especially within a five mile range of eatch other. Is that too much to ask? I mean I don't have a fancy degree in city planning or engineering--but even I, lowly sage of history and marketing stooge, can figure this one out.

Without having to be told.

So, please feel free to heed my advice and remove the head from your collective behinds and take a good long look at the mess you have made. And you better be figuring out a way to fix it. Like NOW.

Cheers Morons!

RDC

ps: Feel free to send me a letter of praise for leading you to the light. Also, gift cards are always appreciated--and actually preferred.

This one is also from April--and totally random.

Snack Time, Lemon Bars, and Full Frontal Male Nudity--does it get better??

Yumm...yes--snacks are a part of my day today. This makes me a happy girl.

Pineapple? Yes..and juicy fresh.

Strawberries? You betcha! And they are the size of large hail.

Various other healthy nibbles (apples, melon...etc) and then the good stuff: Lemon Bars!!

Okay. So I didn't go hog wild..and I only had one (Even though there were like 50 on the tray and someone would have thanked me. What do these haters have against delicious lemon bars? Hello! If we don't eat them..they just get thrown in the trash. I'm not even kidding. The amount of waste that goes on in foodservice turns my stomach sometimes. But not enough to say no to a lemon bar.) Needless to say..the spread for appreciation day is pretty nice this year.

So other than my delight over fruit..my day has been pretty hectic. Phone has been ringing off the hook...my e-mail boxes (yes. I have 3 I have to access just to do my job. geesh.) are chiming like every 30 seconds.

This all makes for a day that has been going pretty fast so far. Thank God. I stayed up a little late last night....but it was so worth it.

My new favorite movie: Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Now..you prudes out there will have to get over your outrage of full frontal male nudity (there's never any girly bits shown...and it's about time the man junk got equal airplay!) it's so damn hilarious...I couldn't stop laughing. Especially at the beginning...is it wrong that I laughed so hard I fell off my couch when Peter got his heart ripped out of his chest whilst standing all nekid and vulnerable in his living room? Probably. But whatever. Again..hilarious. I will have to own this one...Jason Segel--I adore you and give props to your fabulous movie (not just a pretty face this one!)

Ah...here comes 2:00.

Over half way there....hopefully the ride home will be nice and easy.

Cake vs. Pie

I come from a family of pie lovers. As Dad says "I've never met an apple that shouldn't have been in a pie." Yes. We are that serious. You can joke around all you want about religion, politics, the pope--whatever. But pie? Hells no.

Perhaps as a child, this is why when any special occasions rolled around I, being a trouble maker even in my youth, would ask for cake. My mother would sigh, but she would pull out all the stops. There was the easter bunny cake one year (I may have been three--but I will remember that coconut covered rabbit until the day I die), the pink princess cake on my 5th birthday..the list goes on and on. Even more annoying for the rents? Cake is something they never would have picked-never even thought of as a treat for themselves. (With two exceptions. For my mother it would be a devils food cake covered in seven minute frosting alongside a concoction of canned mixed fruit-with cherries DAMN IT!--and diced up apples and bananas added before serving. And maybe, just maybe and orange. If you don't find this weird, you're either related to me or from the South. I've never seen this atrocity known in my family as "fruit salad" anywhere else. For my dad--it's Twinkies. Which technically IS cake. Well..sort of.)

But I digress.

I can see why I would be lured by the siren song of sugar coated sponge that is cake. It's pretty, it's got an air of "fancy" about it. I was always a sucker for fancy. Somethings, sadly, don't change.

However, any schlub can open a box of Betty Crocker, add two eggs and some oil, dump it in a pan, and coat it with store bought dough boy frosting. Now bakeries can make cakes that are works of art--beautiful enough to take your breath away, but the inside? Well it mostly tastes like a combination of cardboard and dog shit. Not much there to be impressed with, honestly. Show me a cake that takes 65 hours to make and I will guarantee you'll find a reception full of people who, after the first bite, will most assuredly utter "Well, it will look good in pictures, anyway...". The sad, broken looks on their faces? It's because that beautiful cake was nothing but a big tease. Frosting, you see, is like make-up. It covers up the flaws, like shitty flavor for one, and dried up old cake that nobody in their right mind would have (or should have) paid $4.00 a serving for if they had seen it before it was dressed up for it's big night out.

This brings me to that all American of yumminess: the pie. You think good pie is easy? Hah! Fool. Is it a lot of work? Not really. Finesse? In spades.

You know good pie by just by looking at it. We've all been to those gatherings where there is that sad looking little undercooked doughy looking "thing" left. Never even been cut. Why? Because you know it's not worth eating just by looking at it--that's why. Now..that one over there--the one with the gorgeous blueberry filling with the lattice crust? The one where you cut it and it holds together by some force of otherworldly magic and the berries burst in your mouth and fill your soul with delight? Now that's what I'm talking about. Lazy folk might have a runny filling--a big ole mess if you will. Not this girl. Oh noo. I've got more than a few pie tricks up my sleeve--but none of them are meant to deceive, but rather to enhance the joy that is fantastic pie. And there's not a dollop of frosting in sight. Ice cream? That's for stomaching that store bought crap--and this includes crappy ass too dry cake. (Unless, you are my father...this man will use any excuse possible to add ice cream to a meal. It's just part of his charm, really.)

Here's the thing with pie. There's no pretense. There's no surprise. What you see--well it's what you get.

But there's no accounting for taste. Some may still think they want the sugary, shitty, dried up facade that is the cake. People, people..when will you learn?? You will never be anything but disappointed. I would go so far as to say you may suffer heartache, even.

Go ahead. Laugh. But when it all comes down to it in the end: What will you have?

The cake? Or the Pie? The choice is yours....don't say you haven't been warned.