The End Has Come, Again.

One of my favorite things about the Dickens Christmas Fair is doing window modeling for Dark Garden Unique Corsets. If you're not familiar with it, you are basically positioned in a window as a live mannequin for an hour while changing position ever five minutes or so. The window can be whatever theme you come up with (with limitations, of course) and can be done alone or with a partner.

One of my windows this year was with Big A (duh), and was German themed. Yeah...We were cute.

You constantly have people trying to make you break and smile- waving, blowing kisses, even doing some, uh...lewd actions. The cutest is when you get a small child that is so enamored with you that s/he doesn't want to leave the window.

Sometimes you're lucky and are able to bribe somebody like GrillMan to take really good pictures for you in exchange for booze, so I'll give him his credit.

My favorite window thus far has been the one I did for the closing weekend where I covered myself in butterflies and had a butterfly catcher. I even had some guy propose to me in front of my window.

So now the fun is over until next year. Hopefully my NYE will be better than my Christmas- which included 6 hours of agonizing puking. Thank you Grandma's cooking!

I kid, I kid...Kinda.

Stop What You're Doing!

While out shopping last night we stopped to eat. While waiting for our food I ordered a martini. What is the big deal, you may ask?

I didn't get carded.
JesusFuckingChrist I didn't get carded.

I know I don't look my age (I still don't right?!!?!). But I guess I should accept that when I'm closer 30 it is possible that I could look over 21. But Holy Shit.

I think I need to bring out the boob shirts.

"Tis the Season...

...To not blog.

I have been busy. Super busy with the Dickens Fair, where we all dress up and talk funny while drinking lots of champers. Oh, and we're quite Christmas-y too.

The best thing about last weekend (that is blog-admissible) was our gift to Boob- which is obviously his nick-name and it should be obvious why.

(Duh, the man loves boobs.)

Since his birthday falls during Dickens and we are in a wonderful show together, every year for the last 4 we have done something for him. The first year it was a 45 (?) boob salute while singing Happy Birthday. Another year it was a boob crown and boob sugar cookies (both made my yours truly), we've given him a huge bottle of his favorite gin, because we all happen to be fans of his Boob-tini's, and all the ladies have tried to strip him bare. This year I felt we had to up the anti. I got one of our lovely cast members to take pictures of every body's breasts. Just the breasts. I was going to compile them all into a lovely little photo album, when another cast member suggested I take the plunge into the modern era: Do a digital frame.
Hello- brilliant!
So we did. And he got it, and it's on shuffle. He confessed on Sunday that he cannot match all the boobs to all the cast members, which I think is hilarious since he thought he stared at them enough. Obviously he's going to have to work on his memory skills. Oh- and all the men are in there also, which I thought would be a nice touch.

OK- that is all. Oh, and Merry X-mas and stuff.

Throwin' Up the W

Um...I'm a little confused as to why President Bush and his staff are throwing up The Shocker.

OK, really confused. If it's not meant to really represent The Shocker (which it probably isn't), then was there not somebody in the picture, or even around the picture when it was being taken that would think to mention that it wouldn't be a good idea to put your fingers as such? Don't they have people whose sole job is is to have things like this avoided? Granted it's not spot-on, per example:*

But really- isn't it close enough? One thing I'm pretty sure of: If the people in the picture didn't know what The Shocker was before, sure as shit they all do now.

*Not my hand.

From Postsecret

We accept the love we think we deserve.

Way Back Wednesday...On Thursday.

Really? Why would Innocent M dredge up such things? I guess I deserve it.

Behold, yours truly circa 199...uh 2 maybe.

The first question which pops into your mind may be "why is this young girl shoving her crotch in my face?", or perhaps you're wondering how you, too, can get all those fashionable necklaces.

If I remember correctly I had put on all of Innocent M's necklaces I could find, and one I apparently deemed a headband, as well as her leg warmers, hat, bracelet, and yes- that is her trophy as well. I do not, however, know what the F this pose is about. I think the photo may have been snapped mid-kick.

Innocent M would like to note that she thinks my hair is crimped in this photo- and there is also a Caboodle in the background. I would like to note how big my tits look for being so young. Oh- and how hideous my shorts are.

And Finally...NKOTB.

I think I've finally come down off of my NKOTB high. I will admit that when Innocent M first brought up going to the concert I was interested- maybe not quite enthusiastic, but interested. I'm glad that I agreed to go, despite the cost of the tickets (which was conveniently left out of any conversation with The Hubby...what a coincidence). I drove to San Jose after work to meet Innocent M at the hotel right by the venue, another great idea of hers seeing as it was walking distance.

We had shirts. And buttons. And lots of old school New Kids while we got ready. We had some conflict since she didn't want to admit that Jordan preferred me, so I was left to sport the Joey button. Back in the day I wouldn't have minded too much, but being the age that I am now and seeing how young he was on the button...well, frankly it made me feel like a pedophile. Ew. Still makes me feel funny.

When we got to the venue it was New Kids mania. Seriously, I have never seen so many women between 25-35 screaming like 13 year olds- truly awesome. It was like everybody was long lost friends, commenting on each other's shirts and paraphernalia. They all became snobby bitches though when any real 13 year old appearing in anything NKOTB- because we all know that that chick was too young to really know and appreciate our beloveds. Obviously.

We had great seats- I must say Innocent M did a good job with that.

The place was sold out, and with all the screaming I think I was deaf for 12 hours after. It's impossible to be in there and play it cool when everyone else is jumping up and down and screaming, the nostalgia was great. They even did the same steps to their old songs as back in the day.

Everything was great until this happened:

I mean really, how can I pay attention to anything or concentrate on taking pictures when something like this is going on? (And when will Jordan finally admit that we're meant to be together?) Yeah. Wow. It's nice to know I had good taste in men even when I was 10.

I don't think I gave a second thought to any booze during my NKOTB infatuation when I was young, but this time we were prepared with a delicious adult beverage in hand to celebrate with:

All in all it was a great evening. We even met Natasha What's-Her-Name and Innocent M got her autograph and CD. Oh, and of course Jordan is going to run away with me after the tour is over. But everyone already knows that.

What to do on Hump Day

Work is busy- which is a great thing, especially with the economy doing so well and all. I can definitely say that while driving to work and seeing this:

It does not make me mad. Sorry for the poor quality pic, and really kids- don't use your phone while you're driving. Not that I was. I was totally stopped in the middle of the road to take this. Honestly.

One of the things that does make me mad, is when one of the managers bring me in something like this to make my day "better":

I don't drink soda, and after 2 sips I already wanna run laps and then die of dehydration. Looking at the "nutrition facts" is scary...

I know maybe you can't read is, but there are 43g of carbs and 42g of sugar....Yeah, obviously I want to poison my body and have my stomach disintegrate. It tastes kind of like cola-a-la-coke, but with a metal after-taste.

So, moving on.

Nothing really for Way Back Wednesday, I will say though that the NKOTB concert this Friday with Innocent M is making me antsy in my pantsy. If only the weekend would come quicker.

I leave you with a vision of my Christmas shopping thus far into the year. I'm a very thoughtful person, so I decided that this would have to go to my big brother, 'cause I love him so.

I know, you wish you were on my Christmas list...

Umm..

Crap.

Yum Me...

I mean yummy...


My neighbor brought over a large bag of apples- wonderful organic apples from a friend's farm.
I'm finding it's quite nice to have friends in the produce industry. She also let me use a nifty gadget that suctions down and peels and cores things. I wasn't worried about getting them ready to cook, but this seriously was so easy that it made me want to have an apple peeling and coring party. With vino.




I decided to try my first apple crisp, because a) I didn't have any pie shells, and really making a pie shell from scratch isn't my thing, and b) it sounded easy.




Doesn't it look kind of like a pineapple?



I made the topping, tossed it all in a pyrex pan, and cooked it for 30 minutes.


Before:




Yeah baby, those are oats in there.

After:

I impress myself...but I also only used 3 apples.

Tomorrow will be an apple extravaganza.

P.S. Just because, here's my amazing salad which went amazing with the home made amazing pesto I put on whole grain pasta and amazing organic chicken breasts. There was a whole lot of fresh basil going on...(I'd post the salad recipe, but that's an amazing secret I'm keeping- but I will tell you that the stuff on top is all fresh garlic.)

Let's Sing s Song of Way Back Wednesday...

Welcome to WBW.

I thought I'd share this proud little photo:

Behold the glory of taffeta and velvet. If only you could get a good look at our hair. This was our lovely A Capella Choir outfits. It was conservative and demure..it's only too bad we weren't.

I was in some form of choir or another all through Jr High and High School. There were great auditions, themed concerts, and a class which involved surfing on ironing boards and thinking I was an all star drummer. I spent two years going to a "zero period"- which anybody who knows how I am with mornings will understand.

I may be biased, but I've yet to hear a composition of The National Anthem that rivals the one a small group of us had perfected with five part harmony. We even sang at Disneyland, on stage and everything. Yeah, we were cool.

I think the best memory I have from it all though, is each time we went to a convalescent home to sing. It's great to hold a concert and have all your friends and family come out and support you, but that still does not match the feeling some of those places brought me: A man who knows none of the singers but is on the edge of his seat with his hands clasped at his chest. Random old ladies shaking your hand and thanking you for making the hall sound like heaven. Walking to go sing to a man who cannot leave is bed, and a lady who calls you Susan when your name is Kim. Thankful. They were all so thankful and made us feel so special because we thought they were worth it.

And yeah, now I know how to ironing board surf. It is, after all, what all the cool second sopranos would do.

Updated Pics

Posts are always better with a visual. Check out the Schnitzel and the Knickers.

Stolen, because it fits...

It's all about the Schnitzel, baby.

OMG how the hell could I forget about Schnitzel-Giggle Friday night?! The yearly girls-only theme party where the only guys in the building are slaves to the partying women. What a blast. There was Hoegaarden on tap and schnapps jello shots. Oh- and lots of schnitzel. By now they've learned that if you're going to have that much free booze it's smart to offer free food too. And what's better than a plethora of sausage? Nothing, and yeah, the ladies loved it. The Schnitzel Board got some awesome comments on it by the end of the night. We thought this picture would be funny, but really it was starting to smell awful. Not a good sign when you're schnitzel smells bad:
Fuck. Yes.

I should mention that we had no idea what we were going to wear until 11PM thew night before. Thank goodness we're some crafty bitches. That St.Pauli bitch ain't got nothin' on me. (How about that for some wonderful grammar?)

Speaking of slave boys (because aren't we always?). The few men that are allowed in are supposed to be at all the women's beckon call. Because I'm that creative, we'll call these three slaves Chocolate Love, White Thunder, and Big Daddy. See the awesomeness that is the slave boys:

Doing what they're told. Isn't GiggleFest great? There were no complaints about the actual schnitzel either:

I will say that the night was a success. Who wouldn't while surrounded by all that schnitzel?

You Dirty, Dirty Girl.

Another weekend gone by- and none of it spent cleaning my house. Really, the place is a mess. Of course since I'm a neat freak a crazy gross mess to me is easily overlooked by most. How I can work at Faire and come home with unwashed hair and dirty feet but still not be able to tolerate dirty clothes strewn about my bedroom and anything old in the fridge is beyond me. I wash my hands 80 times a day and dust like it's going out of style. In my house everything has a place, and there's really no reason for it to be elsewhere.

Our neighbors have commented many times about how clean our house always is, and I sometimes I get the feeling that that they may think I care if they invite us over and their house is unkempt. They even said we could stay at their house to watch their dogs on Thursday so they don't mess up anything of ours. Really, they only live right next door. It makes me think I come off more anal retentive than I really am.

Am I anal retentive?

I am over-organized, yes. I keep everything clean, and apologise if you show up and I think it's not, but I honestly don't mind a mess. I don't care if something is spilled on the carpet or if my crystal gets broken. What's the point of having it if I'm not going to use it? And it's not like I iron T-Shirts and sheets, or scrub anything with a toothbrush (cleaning grout doesn't count, of course. How else is it going to come clean?). You bet your ass I'll randomly spot clean everything with my trusty Simple Green though.

Now that I'm thinking of it, Boobs was laughing at me yesterday because I folded everything in my tent and organized it all before I left, just so I can come back Friday night and unpack it all again for the weekend. Why? *Sigh* Why not? At least I'm not bringing a little hand-held vacuum out there- that would be anal retentive.

Off With Your Knickers!!

My college girlfriends and I used to joke that we could never start off anything by saying "We're going to have so much fun!", because we were likely to jinx ourselves. Sure you may know you'll have a good time, but one of the things that makes the best memories is when you have an awesome time unplanned. Expectations kill things most of the time- and expectations are a whole other blog.

The party Saturday Night was awesome. I didn't get any pictures- A, because only 4 pre-designated cameras are allowed, and B, I was behind the bar most of the night. We had approximately 600 people come through with an open bar and great music inside, band on the stage outside. There were very few issues, and with the exception of Chatter being slapped by some breezy, everyone had a great time from what I could tell. We even had a few people walk up to us the next day and thank us for the party. Yeah- my Archery family ROCKS.

I must say though that my favorite memory of the weekend was silly, unplanned, and we were tired, hot, and totally sober. I'll have to add some pictures later- which of course wont make total sense, because I don't care to share the whole story and the Cliff's Notes version would make it sound completely different than what it was...Although that may be kind of funny...Okay, here:

*Cliff's Notes*

Afternoon On A Hill

BigA: OMG I'm so tired and it's so hot out.

Me: Me too. Oooh- let's take out bloomers off!

BigA: Why didn't we think of that before!

Both: AAAAahhhhhhhh...

BigA: I wish we had a blanked.

Me: Me too.

BigA: Or a mattress.

Me: A futon.

Both: OOhhh a fuuutoon.

Chatter: Hey guys!

BigA: Do you have a futon?

Chatter: Yeah.

BigA: Can you bring it up here so we can lay on it?

Chatter: Are you both going to take your panties off?

Me: Are you going to bring your futon up here so we can lay on it?

Chatter: Take your panties off.

We get our futon.

*Fin*

Yeah, I know, great story. The only thing I kick myself in hindsight for is that we didn't trade our panties (which were both polka-dots, btw) for his futon earlier in the afternoon.

*Sigh* Back to work.

Friday Findings

(This is a posting the SaintOn has been doing for quite some time, and I liked the idea, so I stole it. It's how I roll, yo.)

Things I have learned this week:

1. Being appreciated for your skills in the workplace, and exceed expectaions makes a person fell damn good.
2. Being pushed to expand you knowledge on something can be stressful, but always works out for the better.
3. Your "chosen" family is sometimes just as important as your "given" family.
4. Obnoxious Pink Ninja Shades are always in fashion (and nobody can tell me otherwise).
5. Way too much booze during an extended amount of time will leave gaps in the memory. Huge gaps. (Let's not do that again.)
6. You're never too old to miss your mommy (she'll be here in aprox. 27 days).
7. If you don't use it, you lose it.
8. I am happiest when I have too much to do.

I am so excited for the weekend. CSGN will rock, and I'm using Giddy's tent, because she herself rocks, and now I can comfortably get dressed and store all my crap. Yeah, baby!!!

Happy Friday!

Let's just first start off by saying that I don't care if you smoke pot. Really, I don't. It means nothing to me.

Except, of course, when you keep parking across from my house and my neighbors house hot-boxing your vehicle. Often. In broad daylight. Which is also in front of a park...That many children play at.

When the kids first started this some 7 months ago, we and our neighbors took a laid back approach to the young kids, and my 6'2'' 250lbs. Italian neighbor told them he didn't care that they did it, just don't do it in front of these few houses. (Yeah, how about some of the mountains or thousands of acres of farm land, assholes?). At first The Hubby just shrugged it off, and I was the mean one. We came out one morning to get ready to go to the lake, and they were out there- before 8AM. Really? You can't wake-n-bake in your own house? I hadn't even had my coffee yet. I was pissed off and just stood their on my front porch and stared at them. When two got up to walk in the corner house (they park just out of window sight from it), I walked up to them- which they seemed a bit startled about- and told them it was disrespectful that Italian Neighbor asked them not to and they did it again. When I asked that they not do it again they just nodded and said "yeah, that's cool". At this point I'm even angrier, and the grandpa from the house came out to talk to us, which is when I kindly told him how I felt and mentioned that since we were nice before and his grand kids didn't care, we would call the cops next time.

Low and behold, after we and Italian Neighbors return from a long weekend, we find them out there again. We all walk out onto our lawns and stare at them, while SouthAF (Italian Neighbor's new wifey) calls the cops. Italian Neighbors gets in to a confrontation with the 5'5'' 130lbs. 18year old. And the only reason I know he's 18 is that he told IN that he was 18 and was a man and didn't have to involve any adult in the house. As he's in his tippy toes, of course.
We haven't had much of a problem since then. Which bring me to why I thought of all this again since it was months ago. I drive home from work, happy that I only worked 8 hours and not 10 again, and when I pull up to get my mail there are two young boys in a car, windows up, packing a bowl. There are kids playing at the park. Should I mention that I live in a nice neighborhood? If I was going to take my kid(s) to the park, and I saw 2-5 guys getting fucked up, would I feel comfortable to always come to that park. Nope. And the fact that it's in front of my house?

I talked to our little police department and asked them to cruise by when they can, just to make their presence known.

I mean c'mon, doesn't one of them have a friend with a parent that doesn't care if you do it at their house, or even just do it with you?
I'm getting old.

Why hello Monday...

It's almost 7PM, and I am still at work. Yay overtime I guess.

I have a lot to blog about, but no real time. So, yet to come will be too much vino, a fabulous wedding, and my high hopes for this weekend.

It's the biggest party of the year, yo...=)

Way Back...

Another Hump Day Way Back Wednesday.

Although things have been super busy for me (Today was a 12 hour work day), I find myself in a surprisingly good mood as of late. I also managed to drudge up a few pictures that go to my first WBW post. Check that here.

While I was looking for those gems, I came across this:
Can anybody seriously tell me that you would expect your small child to like this?? Have fun and smile with THIS hugging you? Come on now... If you could only see the look on my face. (Um, and is it me, or is he pawing my bosom? )


Just curious for all you parents, does Chucky Cheese still look like this? I assume in the last 25+ years he's bound to have had a makeover (or three). I remember Chucky Cheese having a dark theatre like setting, with huge mechanical heads coming up with spot lights on them singing loud songs, and holes cut in the wall like you were in a maze of Swiss Cheese...

No wonder my brother used to pull the heads off my barbies.

Busy Bee

Obviously I've started my new job.

It rocks. On a foggy morning, this is what I see on my way to work:




I'll take fog covered mountains and vineyards over a freeway any day- that and it takes about 12 minutes to get there from my house.

Speaking of my house, another reason I've been rather MIA from blogging recently is due to the fact that The Hubby is amazingly awesome and built the cabinet and bookshelf that I wanted for our office. I helped, (and by this I clearly mean holding something in place, observing as he used the nail gun, and giving wonderful advice), and it came out fantastic. Here's before we started:

What the hell would you do with this space? If we were to have the builders do their built-in cabinet and desk thingy it would have cost us over $1,500.00. Insane, especially since The Hubby is so damn handy. This is the result:

This pic was taken from my iPhone so it's not the greatest, but didn't he do an amazing job? It was his first cabinet and book case. The only thing missing is the handle, which we have but we need longer screws.

And that's all. I'll be trying not to go so long in between posts this time.

Holy Tired Monday

I am tired. I think I almost fell asleep driving to work this morning. I had my ten year high school reunion on Saturday, and despite it being a bit on the ghetto side, I am amazed at how much fun I had. To give you an idea of how things went, I took a few pictures. I'm sweet like that.


First off, The Hubby influenced me to wear a boob shirt, and it was boob-alicious. It was paired with my favorite heels, which conveniently got left at Innocent M's house, and no matter what she tells me I know she was trying to steal them.

Things started at Sushi with great intentions and quite innocently with a 22oz of deliciousness:

Mmmm, still makes my mouth water. I should note that I was smart enough to stay away from cocktails all night. Tequila shots on the other hand.....Well, let's just say that I felt I had to keep up the school spirit (because of this I was hangover free Sunday- yay!).

Since we all were overtaken by the amount of school spirit being slapped around, the beginning looked like this:

Which in turn led to this:

Now, I don't really condone this type of action, as it could have ended up not so great. On the flip side though, the couple in the car got a nice ass shot and she didn't have to walk across the parking lot in her heels. It ended up win-win I think.

When we got to the club from dinner we confabulated* with other fellow Alumni. For the most part people looked the same and a few people who looked a lot better and were probably late bloomers. My friend DTheMan, whom I've kept in touch with over the years, showed up straight from a wedding- tux and all. He joked about us being the only cool kids that decided to show up and proceeded to pick out who he wanted to bang. Yeah, he's classy.

There was a lot of things like this:

I bet you can't dance like that. What you can't see is that we also had our gangsta faces on too. The Hubby and I took a cab back to Innocent M's house, and I was able to see most of my good girlfriends that next day before we left town, as well as running into Sweetie and his girlfriend during brunch. No matter how big SR gets, it's still a small town when it's where you grew up.

*I originally used the word "canoodled" here, but upon looking it up to check my spelling I saw that it really means to "caress, fondle, or pet amorously"...yeah, not what we were doing, which is when I found the awesome word I replaced it with, which means to informally chat.

Since I'm so super busy at work today, I thought I'd toss out some really good text messages from the last few days. Made especially nice since I don't really text message much anymore.

"Thanks 4 letting me throw up on you again"

"...Pee on her face, that should work."

"....im gonna need 2 call u and tell u a rad idea i have about filming us punching people."

*Sigh* It doesn't feel like Friday, and I have way too much crap to do this weekend. I promise to have some great story about my high school reunion that's on Saturday. It should be interesting...or interestingly stupid.

Way Back Wendnesday

Welcome to the first edition of Way Back Wednesday. Happy Hump Day y'all.

For the first WBW I should introduce you to Innocent M. More likely than not you'll hear a lot about her on WBWs- she's been my constant partner in crime throughout life, not only because she's one of my best friends, but also because we're related and had no choice.

Firstly, I'd like to give you an idea of how cute and innocent Innocent M and I were when we were Wee Tots:

I didn't block the faces of this picture because a) how f-ing cute are our faces and how could I dare not show you, and b) it's not like I'm pimping out some body's baby on the Internet.

You may notice that Innocent M is chillin' rather care-free while I push her around. Don't let that fool you. As I was busy master-minding stupid shit while we were growing up, she fully participated in each and every thing- at least that's the way I remember it, and honestly, isn't that the only thing that matters?

Innocent M is not innocent. But don't tell her I told you.

When we were about 14 (we're less than a month apart), we found my mom's camera. This was before the digital era, and there was only a picture or two taken on the roll of film. Bored, we decided to have a photo shoot. We put on make-up and did our hair (crazy bangs and all) and sat outside grandma's backyard posing each other all afternoon.

How pissed off was my mom after developing the film- a full roll of 32 pictures and all she gets are shots of either Innocent M or I holding on to the rope swing, glancing down at the daisy in our hand, perched on a wooden fence...you get the gist.

I can't wait to scan the pictures and post a few, because you bet your sweet ass I still have some.

UPDATE: After a bit of a wait, here you go:

Innocent M

Moi

*When a Wednesday comes when I've been drinking for some reason, I'll post a WBW involving faux camping, boys, and being detained by the police.