Rock the Casbah
1) A co-worker had a Major Birthday this weekend and her grown children bought her the most amazing cake, layers full of raspberry jam and sweet cake, fluffy frosting, and fondant ribbons (plaid fondant ribbons to match the napkins, no less). She brought in the leftovers today. I wish I could say my dieting tolerance for sweets made sure I stayed far, far away. I stayed as far away as my fork could reach.
2) What does the Easter Bunny do the other 364 days of the year? Oh, I hope you can handle it. (Ganked from AfterSchoolSnack.)
3) WD40 now comes in pen form. Know how as you get older, the little things become important, like the bunion on your foot, or the neighborhood kids cutting across your lawn, or how ridiculous belly shirts look on 45 year old women? Well, my kicks come, apparently, from greasy pens.
4) I’m making my own Holiday Cards this year. I am clearly insane.
5) I am also making jewelry for presents. Like I said…insane.
6) I’ve become one of those women who starts planning for Christmas in September. I hate myself. But it feels really really nice.
7) A local restaurant opened a second branch that’s 2 blocks from my house. While Sergei was out of town last weekend, I took the kids there. Now they can’t stop bugging me to go back. Well, who am I to argue with lemon bars that kick ass?
8) The Food Network doesn’t have enough special shows about Thanksgiving. I’m serious. It’s like watching Amazing Race 10, or Studio 60, I want moremoreMORE dammit.
9) My Amazing Race 10 prediction…the model/ex-junkie boys will win it. And then celebrate by getting shit-faced stoned and laid by a gaggle (flock? pod?) of coke-encrusted sorority girls looking for a good time.
10) I was just walking down the hall to pee, when I bloated. BOOM. Bloated. Like those folks in the antacid commercial with fat-suit bellies that inflate and then deflate when they take Tums (or whatever). Only I recognized the bloating for what it really was...the Crimson Permanent Assurance is setting sail. Sure enough, I got into the stall and the captain whistled a hearty 'hail and farewell', and then the unexplained craving for fondant-laden cake became all too clear. Ahoy, mateys!