Category: laffs

It should be a National Holiday*

(with all due deference to NewMexiKen’s decision that today *isn’t* a candidate for National Holiday. Damn Domenici for busting up my day!)

And on this day, a Karen was born, and it was good.

Until she grew up a little and her family would beg to differ…

So when I was little, my mom was always willing to make whatever cake or pie the birthday kid wanted. I usually chose a cake, a chocolate chip cake. My mom would whip it up out of a box and it was oh so yuuuum. It felt special to have the cake made just for me.

In honor of the kindness my mother showed me all those years, I decided to make my own cake for myself this year.

Mom, you’ll note my layer cake is about as even as all the ones you and I made over the years.

Though in my defense, The Good Man and I have discovered our home on a hill built in the early 1940’s isn’t exactly level anymore. Doors don’t stay open (or closed, depending) and my two layer of cake came out of the oven looking less like a square and more like a right-angled triangle. Can one work a Pythagorean theorem on a cake?

But as I’ve learned over the years, frosting can make up for a multitude of sins. And add a few too.

Last night on Birthday Eve, I endulged in a slab of cake. Not a piece, a slab. And it was gooooooood. Chocolate with vanilla frosting. Yes please!

And I am planning to celebrate even more. I’ve shaken off the birthday blues and enjoying the day. I even scored a few presents at work. How ’bout that!

Looking forward to the surprises The Good Man has in store.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños para ME!

_______________________________

Oh, an update for the folks who have asked about the progress of Plastic Surgery Kitty.

She’s healing really well.

Here’s a photo from this morning:

The last of the scab came off last night and the wound has healed nicely, is pink and healthy. Looks like she’s come through it just fine! Much better photo than the last one I posted, huh?

Let the celebration begin early!

Ah yes, I’m a firm believer that celebrations of one’s latest trip around the Sun are more than just a one day event. Oh noooo, there is way too much celebrating to get done that just 24 short hours cannot contain.

So though the actual anniversary of my birth (29 and holding and holding…and, uh, holding!) is tomorrow, the celebrations began Friday.

Tasty dinner and drinks with friends. They were in a bit of a scrap, nothing fatal. It just served to remind me that the greatest present I’ll ever know is the love of The Good Man. Oh, sure, we scrap, but not that night. We held hands and enjoyed the warm evening sitting outside.

Saturday we took a road trip up to wine country. I’m starting to actually enjoy wine country more, despite the hoity aspects of it. The Good Man and I have found ways to enjoy it on our terms. I may not be able to “taste undertones of black cherry and moist fern covered flat stone” in my wine, but I’m starting to circle in on what I think tastes good to my personal buds. Fruity better than dry. Light rather than heavy.

Last year for my birfday, The Good Man and I spent time in Calistoga and visited a small winery, on the advice of my boss (and took in a Cinco de Mayo parade). The place is called Vincent Arroyo Winery and they are a pretty small operation. Mr. Arroyo is a retired engineer who decided to take up winemaking, and he does a fine job of it. They don’t yet sell their product in retail channels, selling most of it by subscription to members.

This small winery has one open house a year where they pull out their odds and ends (called Library Wines) and sell them to the general public. This open house just happens to be the first weekend of May. Works out well as a nice place to celebrate roundabout my birfday.

TGM and I were a bit shocked this year to see how much the event has grown. Last year, the winemaker himself was pouring tastes and patiently answering all my questions. This year it was a really big event with cars parked down the gravel road and many of Napa Valley’s snoot out to play. About that I was displeased.

However, it took a few pours of wine to dramatically change my outlook.

And there was free food, so really, I can’t complain.

It was a gorgeous spring day and the drive was wonderful. We did just a day trip, but yes, oh yes…a good time.

Sunday we went to Maker Faire. I’d heard about this in years past and was emboldened to go this year, because My Personal Jesus, The Crafty Chica was going to be there.

She gave a talk on one of the stages that morning and I not only got her autograph on my book, she was very patient as I TOTALLY geeked out and asked her a sampling of my millions of questions. She gave me amazing advice that I will use.

I’m currently working on a project that someone is actually paying me actual real money for (photos when completed, I promise) and of course doing this “on commission” makes me nervous. The goddess that is Kathy Cano-Murillo reassured me, gave me hints and sent me on my way.

Yay!

And just because I could, I took Monday off. I mean, Cinco de Mayo oughta be a national holiday, am I right?

With all that running around over the weekend, my Monday off was nice and quiet. I even baked up a cake (from a box) and made up a batch of frosting (from a recipe found on the ‘net) that I plan to eat slabs of later today.

And tomorrow for the actual day? Dunno yet. TGM has sumptin’ up his sleeve and in our time together I’ve come to know that his surprises are ALWAYS worth waiting for!

So all in all….I got NOTHING to complain about. Even that whole being a year older thing.

Oh, this past weekend I even got to take out my camera and try out a few things. I’m a bit rusty, to be honest, need more time at this, but a few came out well enough that I’m happy when I see them…mainly for the memories.

Here is something I call “Soon”…as in soon enough those baby grapies are gonna be big grapies and will be squashed into wine and enjoyed fermented out of a bottle. YUM! Such anticipation!

Also, lately, I’ve been playing around with the black and white (or…monochrome) setting on my gear.

The wine tasting was in full gear and there was this HUGE pile of corks and open bottles in various states. I was endlessly fascinated by the whole scene and many folks wondered at the peculiar chick taking photos of, you know, the table. To them I say FEH!

Sphincteritis

Not the medical kind. The emotional kind. And, oddly, in this case related to medical personnel.

This morning I read this brief article in today’s ABQjournal: Hospital Officials: Prank Not Funny

My first thought was “I’ll bet it is.” I mean, really, office pranks are funny. And hey, a hospital is *prime* for good office comedy. Lots of ways you can go with that.

Well, in reading the article, I discovered the joke in question wasn’t actually all that funny, at least not to me. It probably was to the hospital workers who had put in a twelve hours shift and were punch drunk and silly. And generally an office prank arises out of people being 1) tired, 2) fed up and 3) both.

So these hospital folks were caught on the security camera putting a cartoon image of Stewie in the frame that had recently housed a photo of the Chief Operations Officer.

It might have been a loving, joking tribute to the employee who had moved on to other employment, likening him humorously to the baby bent on world domination. It might also have been an after-the-fact tacky comment on the nature of the hospital executive.

Either way, I don’t know and really, I don’t care. But I do think that the fact this made the newspaper and there is huffing and puffing from the powers that be at the hospital is sort of silly.

Office pranks are everywhere. I’ve done them. I’ve been a victim of them. Hell, I once aided and abetted my coworkers kidnapping a diminutive office mate and wrapping him tightly, still seated in his ergonomic office chair, in shrink-wrap plastic (except for his, you know, breathing areas). Round and round and round on the shrink wrap platform and we then rolled him over, green in the gills, to the pile of racks and equipment that were being moved to a new location.

Had the guy had no sense of humor, I suppose that HR wouldn’t have looked kindly on the prank. Huffing and puffing would have ensued. Turns out the guy has a great sense of humor, and our boss almost peed his pants laughing so hard.

What the hospital employees missed was a few vital keys to a good office prank: Timing. And know your audience.

Ooh, all this talk has me itching for a good interoffice prank. Sadly, my current crop of coworkers have NO sense of humor. The timing is good (the office is in shambles, we’re moving buildings) but the audience…not so much.

Hot or not?

Yes, I think hot.

Been getting a lot of compliments today at work about my outfit.

Well, one aspect of my outfit. My boots. They rock.

So why am I blogging about this?

Well. You see, I bought these little beauties about three months ago. I brought them home and quickly tried them on to show The Good Man. He looked at them, then gave me that sort of look you get when you sniff the milk carton well past its expiry.

He didn’t like them. Said I looked like a CHP Officer (and not in a good way).

And he has REALLY good taste in clothes, so I tend to listen to him.

With sadness, I put them away in my closet. They were so cool. I didn’t want to take them back, but I didn’t think I’d wear them if they give my beloved “that look” on his face.

Over the months I keep seeing cute little gals wearing same or similar kicks, and I keep thinking, “I have some of those…”

Something snapped over the weekend and I decided, “yes, I will wear them, curdled milk face or not.”

This morning I pulled them out from the closet depths, paired them with a fave springtime skirt and an appropriate top.

And as my love and I walked to the CalTrain station, he said, “Hey, I really like those boots”.

Umm hmm.

“I take you in sickness and in health, in odd fashion choices and when you rock the runway…” Can I get an I do on those vows?

Anyhow, here are the kicks in question:

Plan in place

In reading the “odd news” today, I inadvertently stumbled across my strategy for the first Tuesday in November.

Source.

NAPLES (Reuters) – Ballot stuffing took on a new meaning in Italy’s parliamentary election on Sunday when a man ate his ballot paper in protest at the country’s politicians.

Police in Naples said they had charged the 41-year-old businessman with destroying election materials. He said all Italian politicians and politics “are crap” and that he was protesting “against the system.”

Nom, nom.

Should I add rooster sauce or mayo? What condiment goes best with crappy politics, hmmmmm?