BEACH

I'm going to the beach for the long, holiday weekend.  I hope everyone has a great weekend and I will post some pictures when I return.

Yippee!

Humpty Dumpty

On the way to school every morning, I get to see Humpty Dumpty.  Someone has put him atop their wall in their backyard and I can see him from the street.  It makes me chuckle every morning.  It also reminds me of one of my best jokes I've been telling since I was four:

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall

All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again.  Do you know why?

I ate him for breakfast.

(courtesy of Lily Tomlin)

Loaf-A-Palooza

There is a man in my husband's office that we wanted to have over for dinner.  He is a single man with a great heart and a hearty appetite for meatloaf, so we occasionally have him over.  Meatloaf is not usually a meal I think about when it's 107 degrees outside, but this wasn't about me.  Actually, the only thing I think of when I think of meatloaf is how when we were kids, we would also want the end pieces that were the most burned because they had the least offensive taste when smothered in Ketchup.  The last time my mother made it, she promised she would never fix it again.  We were happy. 

Long story short, it ends up that we are going to have 12 people for meatloaf dinner (still 107 outside) on Sunday.  So, after hosting Legally Blonde: The Party, I re-clean the house and start on what I think will be acceptable accompaniments to the dinner: mashed potatoes, green beans, asparagus, and peach cobbler.  I have everything made and ready to go on Saturday night to either warm up or bake the next day.  I'm looking at a relaxing Sunday hanging out with the kids. My husband was going to be in charge of the meatloaf, so I figure my part is done.  So, I get up for my bike ride on Sunday morning and when I get back, there are about 10 meatloaf recipes on the island to review.  He wants me to pick the best three.  Yes, you heard me.  He's making three meatloafs.  Loaf-A-Palooza.  So we landed on these three all from the Food Network.

1. Good Eats Meat Loaf (Alton Brown)
2. Roasted Vegetable Meatloaf with Balsamic Glaze (Bobby Flay)
3. Spicy Meatloaf with Chipotle Sauce

Do you have any idea how much meat went into these things?  Eeewwww.  We are talking about almost 7 pounds of meat.  That is the size of a baby.  Eeewwww.  He goes to the store and three hours later, returns with enough groceries to feed a small, developing country.  We are now four hours away from guests arriving, and those of you who know meatloaf, know that it takes 1 to 1/2 hours to cook each one.  Oh, and we've added a few more items to the menu such as Artichoke Heart and Spinach Gratin, two kinds of homemade ice cream, and a starter of Linguini with Clam Sauce.  Four hours away from guests.  Oh, and there are no shortcuts because the discernable palates could tell that we bought the breadcrumbs and that WOULD JUST NOT DO.   These same discernable palates that left wine in their glass that hailed from a 2000 Silver Oak Cabernet.  Is it wrong to admit that I almost drank it after everyone left?  I didn't, but come on people. 

For the next four hours, we slice, dice, chop, stir, whip, pulse, puree, strain, mold, brush and bake.  I'm exhausted again just telling the story.  So, we have a taste off and the winner is the Bobby Flay recipe by a country mile.  My husband hates Bobby Flay because he licks his fingers and then continues cooking and touching the food again. He may have redeemed himself with his loaf recipe.

That night, we deemed our first (and hopefully only) Loaf-A-Palooza a success.  I wish I had taken photos.  Today, we hear that our guest of honor has been ill.  God speed, Bob.  Hope it wasn't the meatloaf.

Legally Blonde: The Party

Taylor had her 10th birthday party on Friday, which somewhat explains the lack of postings over the past few days. Most of you know the movie, Legally Blonde, and there is also a musical, Legally Blonde: The Musical. Taylor has been taking some Broadway classes and they have done quite a bit of work on Legally Blonde: The Musical. Naturally, the theme of this party was Legally Blonde: The Party. She invited 4 friends who are all really great girls. They started at her dance studio to have an acting lesson and some choreography to a song from the musical.

Acting Class:

Of course, there had to be Bruiser so each girl received a Webkinz Chihuahua as the favor:

Cake:

BIRTHDAY GIRL

A good time was had by all. After the clean up the next day, I had to immediately get started on preparing for Loaf-A-Palooza. More on that later as that consumed the latter half of the weekend.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PRINCESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tastes like chicken

This is a picture of Nick's 13th Birthday.  He was just 2 years old yesterday, right?  So, if he is really 13, that makes me....older than I think I am.

So, Nick is a pretty good looking kid but so are most of the kids in his class.  I just went through my middle school yearbook and didn't see any of the boys or girls that looked that good (Yes, I still have my middle school yearbook).  Where are the mullets?  Where is the blue eye shadow?  Where is the big hair? WHERE ARE THE SPERRY TOPSIDERS? 

You know, they say that it is the hormones they inject in chicken that makes the kids develop faster.  Is that the same thing that makes them all look like they could have a recurring role on The Hills?  Is it too late to get in on that?  I like chicken.

Hoping i'm busier this year...

During the first week of school last year, we get a note home asking the parents and the kids to sign a new policy and add it to our ever-increasing Gestapo list of policies and procedures (note must be signed by both parents and kids to remove any loophole).

It reads:

LIMOUSINE POLICY

Students may not be picked up or dropped off at school by limousines for after school activities including birthday parties, dances, group trips, etc.

I’m pretty sure this does not actually happen in parts of the Midwest where I grew up. If we saw a limousine driving through town, we always pointed and wondered what rock star was all ginned up trying to drive Route 66 to live out a song fantasy and got lost. In reality, it was probably just the mortuary.

Two weeks later at school, I saw a limousine every morning at drop off and every afternoon at pick up. I’m incensed. I signed the damn paper, why doesn’t everyone have to sign it and adhere to the rigid policies that make this school great? Since I was "consulting" and didn't have much to do, I march into the office and demand to know what the hell is going on with the limousine. Well, Little Johnny has to take the limo to school as this is his only means of transportation. Poor little fellow. Oh, and if you re-read the policy for you lawyer types, it precludes limos from before and after school activities, not school itself.

This is where the school recommends some volunteer agencies that might find good use of my time. None involve law firms.

in search of produce with taste

I'm constantly complaining during the summer months that I can't get good produce.  It looks pretty.  It has all the right shapes and colors.  It just has no taste. The produce tastes the same in January as it does in August.  I remember going to my Grandfather's backyard to pick tomatoes, and you could smell the vines that had that delicious summer tomato smell.  He wasn't too fond of us depleting the crop, so we would sit outside by the vines and eat them raw while he was napping.  Occasionally, he would take pity on us and Grandma would fix us a sandwich with bacon and tomatoes.  MMMMMMMMMMMM

So, I'm complaining to Krys the other day as she is bragging about her corn she's been eating everyday.  Andy's Candy Corn from Columbus, Nebraska.  If you're at work and find yourself with nothing to read, you can find his story here: http://www.goodnatured.net/our_story/pdf_newsletters/July-15-2006.pdf

So, the next day via Fed Ex, I receive a load of corn.

Thanks, Krys and Ben!!!  We tried tomatoes once but I was in the middle of a move and they went to the unoccupied house.  By the time I retrieved it, they had turned into salsa. Since I'm no quitter, I think we should try again.  The corn was awesome and made it even sweeter that my friend was thinking of my produce needs.

Every year I say I'm going to plant a garden.  Then, I look outside.  The dirt here isn't really dirt as much as rock, and sand.  It is the desert, after all.  Things weren't really supposed to live here.  Only neon.  Why can't my neighbor plant a garden and then leave town for a month during the summer?  That's really what I'm after. 

So, my friends out there who live in black dirt land, it is time to rally.  There are only a few short weeks left until you will be in produce hell yourselves.  I know how that crop abundance can be quite a burden, and I'm here to help.  I'm home most days during Fed Ex hours and would be glad to take it off your hands.  Really, I'm here for you.  I promise next year, when my neighbor leaves town, I'll pay you back.

Baby Condiment

(Ok, more of a sauce, really)

One of my best friends in the entire universe whom I've known since middle school, Krys (HI KRYS), is pregnant. Over the weekend she took her 2 year old, Sofia, to the pool where she met a new friend named Willow. Willow introduced Sofia to her little sister, Prairie. Not to be outdone, Sofia said that her little sister's name was going to be Gravy.

Baby Gravy. 

Now, if Krys wants to get fancy, she could name her Gravee, or Gravey, or Gravi.  Nothing is off limits.  Seeing some of the names that parents give their children, I'm pretty sure that the Sofia method is better than most.

My sister works as an R.N. at a children's hospital, and you can't imagine some of the names these poor children are burdened with for life.  Two of the standouts, are Slam Willy, and Shatheed.  Except, Shatheed is the phonetic version because the parents decided to spell it S-H-I-T-H-E-A-D.

The Wall Street Journal has an interesting article about the Baby-name business.  People spend incredible amounts of money on baby name consultants, numerologists, or websites to help them name their baby.  http://online.wsj.com/article/SB118247444843644288.html?mod=googlenews_wsj 

For a small fee, I'm available as well.  I have my own soon-to-be-patented method.  Taylor was a Grandmother's maiden name so hers was legit.  Nick's naming is treading on a very fine Slam Willy line of reasoning.  It may have something to do with dialogue in "The Sure Thing."

---

Lady in Car: What are you gonna name it?
Alison Bradbury: What?
Lady in Car: The baby.
Alison Bradbury: Well, if it's a girl, Cynthia, and if it's a boy, Elliot.
Lady in Car: Those are lovely names.
Walter (Gib) Gibson: Elliot? You're gonna name the kid Elliot? No, you can't name the kid Elliot. Elliot is a fat kid with glasses who eats paste. You're not gonna name the kid Elliot. You gotta give him a real name. Give him a name. Like Nick.
Alison Bradbury: Nick?
Walter (Gib) Gibson: Yeah, Nick. Nick's a real name. Nick's your buddy. Nick's the kind of guy you can trust, the kind of guy you can drink a beer with, the kind of guy who doesn't mind if you puke in his car, Nick.

 

No baby consultant here.  Just bad movies from the 80's.  Me and Sofia are here to help.

Living in Sin (City)

When I tell people where I live, the eyebrows go up and I can see the person is mortified to know that people actually make their home in such a seedy place.

“Oh, Las Vegas,” they say, “I could never live there.”

They think that tucked into those big fancy hotels is enough room for all of us locals to live together peacefully in a fairy tale land of drunken debauchery where strippers line the streets and the Mayor of Las Vegas is the attorney for the old time mafia and is thinking and talking about Gin all the time (Ok, that last part might be true). They wonder how anyone could live there.

“I mean, it’s ok for a couple of days but I am always ready to go home,” they say. It is also very important for them to make me realize that they are way too good to live here. Their life is on a higher plane then mine because they choose not to live here. My Karma points might be low but that is because I work in gaming, or the work of the devil as my Mother so eloquently points out.

I guess most folk don’t realize that we “locals” haven’t replaced our water source with vodka, or that we take our daughters to ballet, not pole dancing. We don’t discuss coloring our Hoo-Hoos a metallic blue at the PTA meetings. If I have a couple of spare quarters in my purse, they are not jingling me all the way down to the casino to play the slots and hopefully get lucky.

Most people just don’t get it. For example, I was having my nails done one day in the town where I grew up in Missouri and the lady asked where I lived.

“Oh,” she says, “are you a show girl?” Truth is, the only place I might be qualified to be a show girl would be in Missouri since I'm 5'2" with no dancing experience. Yes, lady, and if you ever actually got on an airplane and experienced life outside of this chic cosmopolitan town you call home, you are welcome to go the Golden Nugget and hold my feather headdress.

However, when friends are in town, I’m not afraid to go to the strip, dress like a slut, and party like a rock star. After a couple of nights, I’m always glad to go home.