Ramblings of a 34B cup

Erika Ritzel Photography...

2011-04-29T20:36:00.003-05:00

I love her photography. Kitchy-cool in a quirky Anthropologie-sort-a-way. Where else does Playboy live in Harmony with grannies dusty doilies?!? This is from her SOLD series of photos from estate sales and the like.

I bought this photo at the MCAD art sale last year and framed it in a simple, laquered white frame. It currently resides at my studio in my currently artistic (translation: messy) office. From her HOME series. My grandma had that EXACT same applique table cloth with the buttery yellow pear... I'm slightly nostalgic... and a sucker for anything pink...

Happy Birthday Miss Kato!

2010-02-22T18:26:00.002-06:00

My girl is 8 years young today! Check her out with her red velvet puppy cake she got when I went to visit my friends Midnight and Harley in Kansas City. Ain't she cute as a bugs ear? She's got a bum wheel, but we aren't going to talk about that on her birthday.

Hope everyone is great and sorry Ramblings has been sort of mute over the past few months. I'll work on getting a bit better.

Good Ole St. Nick

2009-12-14T20:53:00.005-06:00

See, when you don't have kids you do crazy stuff like this. You wait in line (thank God with one of your best friends) for 93 minutes to see the big guy. Hoping and praying your dog doesn't make you look bad or pee on anything/anyone. If you are lucky you can catch a couple of good shots and hopefully not the flu from all the sniveling kids in line with you.

St. Nick was a good sport and only slightly surprised I didn't want to be in the photo with them. My K-9 companion posed like a Westminster champ and couldn't wait to get the hell outta the sweat shop they call Ridgedale (what was the temp in there anyway?!?).

Zoom sat perfectly, Foster did his part, thankfully without any nervous diarrhea.

I saved a bundle by bringing my own camera and avoiding the highway robbers they call elves. $17-$45 for a mall Santa photo? Pah-leez!

Heart throb...

2009-11-23T14:07:00.002-06:00

I L.O.V.E him...

Courtesy of MINNEAPOLIS (WCCO) ―

Minnesota Twins catcher Joe Mauer was named the American League's Most Valuable Player Monday, beating out Yankee stars Mark Teixeira and Derek Jeter.

Mauer received 27 of the 28 first-place votes and had a total of 387 points. Teixeira and Jeter finished second and third, respectively.

The other first-place vote went to Detroit Tiger Miguel Cabrera, who finished fourth in the voting.

Mauer, 26, had 28 home runs, 96 RBI, a .365 batting average and led the American League in batting for the third time in his career.

Mauer won the award, despite missing the first month of play because of a back injury. In his first game back on May 1, he hit a home run in his first at-bat. He was named the league's player of the month for May.

This year, Mauer also pocketed his second Rawlings Gold Glove Award and his third Louisville Silver Slugger Award.

Mauer joins an elite club of Twins who have won the MVP award, including Justin Morneau in 2006, Rod Carew in 1977, Harmon Killebrew in 1969 and Zoilo Versalles in 1965. The MVP award is based on votes from the Baseball Writers' Association of America.

Mauer is only the second catcher in 33 years to win the award.

Halloween 2009

2009-11-03T19:36:00.002-06:00

I got the giggles. I mean seriously. Nothing is better than dressing up for Halloween. I thought of our costumes over a month ago, before I knew John and Kate Plus Eight was going to be a global Halloween sensation. None the less we donned our Gosselin gear and had a blast. I wish you could see the full glory of my Hubby's costume. We used a little chocolate brown eyeliner to enhance, "John's," eyes AND we borrowed a pair of vintage rhinestone clip on earrings from the Nickster (thank you love). But, JV's best prop was a pack of ciggies. We roared with laughter as he pretended to be a veteran smoker. He looked the part until he inadvertently dropped his unlit smoke in his cocktail. The cat was outta the bag.

And then he figured out a ciggy would fit perfectly in this baby's mouth.

I mean this is frickin' hilarious. Thanks to Hank for letting us borrow his stroller and the neighbor girl for borrowing me the eighth Cabbage Patch Kid.

The whole gang dressed up!

But the most creative costume was definitely Amy B. She was the above girl from the famous Roy Lichtenstein paintings.

I mean look at the work she went to. I just bought a stupid wig.

Happy Birthday Nooncy!

2009-10-14T08:17:00.002-05:00

Dear, Sweet Brutha Nooncy...

Happy birthday my friend! Come on over and I'll make you birthday dinner tonight!

LOVE this photo-damn Twins-he shoulda caught that! Do I really have to wait until Spring to see Mauer again :) ?

Love you!

A New Blog To Luv!

2009-10-06T07:33:00.002-05:00

Heart. Be. Still.

www.kateturpin.blogspot.com

Keeping the Turpin family in our thoughts...

2009-09-25T09:59:00.002-05:00

hey-lo everyone. it's a somber day today. if you haven't been updated about the loss of lil Jack check in on the Turpin family blog. no words can put it in perspective. love, support and well wishes are being sent to TX. KJ and Dan we luv you. Read more here.

Rest In Peace Jessie...

2009-08-25T21:16:00.002-05:00

Recently, I have had a few deep blog posts, so I write this at the risk of being morbid.

This evening I attended a funeral for the young woman you see to the left. Young, as in 24 years, young. Young, as in born in 1984, young. Young, as in at the age where ones body should be fit, healthy, athletic. Perhaps this is the reason her death has me thinking about my own mortality and how a healthy life can often be taken for granted. She was an athlete, an artist, a singer, a graduate with a degree in interior design, an animal lover, full of charm and quick wit. She fought hard, at one point asking her doctor if she could have her slogan word, PERSEVERANCE, tattooed to the back of her bald head. She was a beautiful girl, remarkably stunning even sans hair. A bright smile and a courageous family supporting her in her fight. Nothing seems fair about loss of life, and a long, hard struggle with a incurable and inconsiderate disease, not when you have so much left to do on this earth.

I left the service tonight with profound sadness and a new sense of purpose. Jessie's family shared some entries from her journal. She was a woman wise beyond her twenty-four years. She talked of living a life without any should haves. No regrets, no wishing you had done differently. I will think of her often, living my life with her in mind... without any should haves.

To read about Jessie's journey from her Caring Bridge website follow this link.

2009-08-19T00:00:00.001-05:00

Some days I ramble on. This, that, the other.

Today isn't that sort of day.

All I really want to say is Happy Birthday Oliver.

Brookid and Jerrid love you.

R.I.P. Brandy Wine

2009-08-18T20:03:00.004-05:00

If you have ever had a pet you get it. It doesn't matter if it's a feline, canine or equine they make a huge impact on our heart and make life just that much sweeter. Sure, sure, they may shred a pair of two of designer shoes, but really, it was your fault for not putting them away anyway. And yes, they may give ya a little attitude when you strap the ole saddle around their midsection, but honestly, how would YOU like carrying YOU around? So, I guess what I am trying to say is, without doubt it's work, sometimes H-A-R-D work to raise an animal of any kind. Factor in the expense of food/hay/corn/shelter/vet bills/treats/pet sitters and you can kiss that fabulous Hawaiian get-a-way goodbye. But the fact of the matter is every pet owner I know would do it again anyway. Animals can provide this unconditional love like no other. They trust, they depend, they are never disappointed you had to come back home to make sure the curling iron was unplugged. The only time you find yourself wondering, "why the hell did I own this animal," is when you feel the raw emotion of having to say goodbye to them. Why would we fall in love, nurture and care so deeply for these animals knowing we will likely outlive them by years if not decades? It's because no one else would wag a tail harder when you come home from a bad day at the office. It's because no one else would whiney with glee at a rolled apple & oat treat and a bucket of corn. It's because the bond between animal and human is truly a miraculous thing to behold.

With that said we say a lump-throated, "so long," to Brandy, a perfectly appointed quarter horse. Who's heart was as big as her belly and her spirit as fiery and the white blaze marked upon her nose. I send a huge hug through the phone line and the blogosphere to Craig and Joanie, who's farm is a little quiet tonight. I (and I know they do too) picture Brandy, her mane tousled by the wind galloping through those big green fields in the sky. Some day when I meet her there I might just finally be brave enough to ride her.

A favorite video of Brandy and Miss Kato:

Best boys in town...

2009-08-13T20:28:00.006-05:00

Oh gosh. Remember way back three/four moons ago when I spoke of my HOT date with two fine lads? Oh, yah baby (or should I say, "oh, yah boy?) it was so H-O-T we needed to call in the MG fire fighters!

So, where do I even begin to tell the tale of summer love? Maybe I should start with Hank driving the big rig. He was fearless and mighty! Inquiries were made about every bell, whistle, nook and cranny. God bless the firefighters on duty! But most importantly buddies bonded, "buddies don't shake hands, buddies gotta HUG! P-man shared a lick (and a few drips) of his home made ice cream cone (and ate half a package of blueberries-sorry MOM). He was sugary sweet! We met this crazy cat who makes all sorts of critters and creatures and the occasional custom sword outta nothing but a balloon and a bunch of hot air. But, that's not it! There's more! The best was conversation over a non-alcoholic drink of water... water outta a lions head! Talk about giggles! Not to mention the inadvertent wet T-shirt competition! Soooo sweet it will put a pimple on yer butt! Awe, cute!

Totally Crazy...

2009-07-30T06:51:00.002-05:00

Remember when summer got long? Do you really remember what it felt like to sing, "Moooooom, I'mmmm Borrreeeeeed!"? My parents enforced the no TV in the summer rule, "turn it off and go outside." I'm not complaining, I'm just saying there where summers when there was time for TV. I can't remember the last time I was, "borrreeeeeed." As I prepare to flip the calender to August I'm wondering where the last two months went? Has summer really even started? Now, back to school ads and flyers.... Rude!

But tonight... tonight I have a very important date with two of the West Metro's most handsome lads. I promise I'll get you photos.

Your eye's aren't foolin...

2009-07-16T22:31:00.002-05:00

It's me, it's really, really me. This blog has not been abandoned nor will she ever. I'm still alive. I'm still kickin. I'm still sassy as ever. I've been on a summer hiatus trying to get this, that and the other thing done and still trying to fit in some chilly summer fun. But, I've been thinking of you, so enough of the cold shoulder already. Swing on back in a day or so for the cliff notes on the past month. It's been a damn good one.

Happy Birthday(s) Big Snoot and Molly!

2009-06-11T20:40:00.006-05:00

Now come on girls, hold onto your hats and handbags, I didn't forget... It might be 8:47pm on your birthdays, but I wouldn't dare rest my head without wishing you both HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

First, my big cousin (second from the left). Well, she's not really big, she is actually quite smallish. When I say, "big," I just mean older. Ahhh, yup, older. That's one thing I always have on her. Gotta love it. But, here's the deal. This smallish-big cousin of mine has been around, well, since my induction to this world in 1977. I have the pics of her, dons her go-go boots, holding me when I was just a wee lil' baby. (I wish you could hear me giggling...) Somewhere, somehow, back in time we became Snoots. I think it all started with her snail mail notes. Always the pen(wo)manship I aspired to have and always a Boynton card. Aways greeting me as Little Snoot and signing off as Big Snoot. It's just always been that way and I love it, love her, love that no matter what I do she is stuck with me cuz I'm fam (and bigger than her in a physical stature kinda way which means I can be the bully). Good times, bad times, times of too many vodka/soda/splash of cran whatever the hell it is you drink, she's my Big Snoot. Love you and happy birthday.

Now, to my Moll-Doll. I dare you to find a kinder hearted woman this one here. It's not possible, they don't just make em any better! Here's the deal. Have you ever run across a person who looks in your eyes and genuinely cares (and listens) to what nonsense your sayin? The kind of person who seemingly knows exactly what to say in most any situation to make you feel better? The kind of person you are just drawn to because they emit positive energy? This is Molly. An incredible woman, a loving soul and true-blue keeper-of-a -friend. Loves and hugs and well wishes to you Molly, happy birthday too.

Sunday Dinner

2009-06-08T22:21:00.004-05:00

So most nights it's pretty casual 'round my casa. We may fire up the grill, but then again we may just have a bowl of cereal with bananas. I wouldn't necessarily call myself a gourmet even on my best culinary days, but every once in a while I hit the nail pretty square on the head. Sundays are usually my days to spend a little more time on dinner and try out some new, and old favorites, from the oodles of recipes I hoard. Sunday I set out to try Pioneer Woman's Baked Lemon Pasta. But, I needed to make my own mark on this noodly-mess-of-complex-carbohydrates. Pardon me while I toot my own horn, but it totally rocked. It so rocked it had this effect on my family. Totally not kidding. And just for fun cuz he loves it when I post pics like this... Eat yer heart out (and a bowl full of pasta.).

My variation to the, "P-dubya Woman's," Baked Lemon Pasta...

At least double the amount of garlic she calls for. I mean come on it's Sunday, it's a must. Next time I'm skipping the parsley, cuz it's like eating rough air, and I'm totally going basil. I LOVE BASIL. Lastly, I sauteed some HUGE shrimp, bought from some weird door to door Schwans-wanna-be, in garlic/butter and placed them atop the mound of garlic-lemon goodness just before serving. Mmmmmmmmm, gooooooooood.

A Monday Giggle.

2009-06-08T16:52:00.001-05:00

I don't care who you are... whats not funny about this?!?

This is TWINS territory!

2009-06-03T21:38:00.004-05:00

So, the other weekend a troop of true-blue Twinkies fans (and a few stinky Brewers fans too:) took in 9 innings for the final season of MN baseball in the inflatable toilet. I tried my hardest to get noticed by Bert. I do hereby pronounce Bert a stupid poop for not circling me. Final answer. I even hooked Lola up with a sign since she made the long, hard trek from the lone star state. He didn't see her either. I might be willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, since perhaps the nosebleeds are out of camera range. What ever makes you feel better, right? Pman found a little comfort in a root beer float and a bag of Cracker Jacks. Patrick ate one of those ever famous sundaes consumed via wooden spatula. No word on when either of the tike's came down from their sugar induced highs. Also, no word on how many $6.75 Miller Lights were consumed... Gotta keep ya guessin'.

Sweet Peas and Tater Tot.

2009-06-01T22:04:00.008-05:00

PART 1
"Me and Ellen is just like peas and carrots."

Well, it may not be a farm by your standards, but is sure is by mine. Year two and we are older, cuter and wiser. Remember last year when the pumpkins hung from the corn stalks and the zucchini nearly suffocated the melons? No need to tell us twice. We've lived, learned and invited our resident horticulturist, Mark. No, I'm not kidding. He's a pro. Proven by some sort of gibberish regarding two rows of corn instead of one for cross pollination. I know! We also got smart and and opted for power vs turning the earth by hand. We planted in proper rows, sections and mounds as necessary. We fenced the tomatoes with proper gates instead of PVC, 2b4's and other sturdy construction materials. So here's the roster for the garden 2009: sweet corn , tomatoes (cherry, heirloom, big boy and yes even a few yellow ones), the chives are alive, cilantro, numerous varieties of peppers (ranging from red bell to burn your eyeballs out habanero), green beans, onions, carrots, cucumbers for canning, cucumbers for slicing, melons and sweet peas. So yah, hose off your farmer feet, cuz that's that.

PART 2
"Movin' dirt and labrador retrievers."

So sweet peas are, well sweet, but you ain't seen nothing till you catch a look at our four-legged farm hands. Roll call! You 'member Foster, right? Lil, Zoom was getting some extra care at the doggie hospital-happy to report she is doing well. Here'z Miss Kato. But I'm pretty sure you haven't got a good look at Tater Tot. Ah, corn shucks, she's got the cutest smile I've ever seen. She's sassy, she's spunky and she's got a face a labrador loves.

Best Deal On Tonka!

2009-05-18T22:00:00.006-05:00

No matter which way you slice it Mondays can be a bummer. You can't get any further away from the weekend and Mondays mark the start of 5 count em F.I.V.E. days in a row of waking to a screeching alarm. Damn. I, my friends, have found the second most fabulous Monday thang, aside from my new fav show, Dancing With The Stars. Snicker if you wish, I love that hokey arse show. Anyway, if the Rumba and Tango aren't your cup-o-tea I might just have another way to make your Monday a little brighter. How bout a spot in the sun? Right on the water's edge of Lake Minnetonka? 6 cold Miller Lite bottles ($.99 each!?!)? Two cheeseburgers with all the fixings ($5 buck-er-roos each!?!)? Valet parking and gratuity? All for 26, "skeeters," or dollars as my DAD calls em. I know! Lord Fletcher's boasts some of the best real estate on the water and top notch people watching. Monday nights they pack em in for the best deal in the west suburbs. Go there, bring your cute spouse and embrace a Monday for once already.

A Love/Hate Thang...

2009-05-18T00:00:00.001-05:00

Eating healthy. I think it's the difference between me getting rid of 5lbs and staying status quot at 142 pounds of spunk, sass and a tad of cellulite. I don't eat bad necessarily, but I could eat better. So basically, I'm making sure we eat fresh veges and fruits in all the colors of the rainbow daily. At the top of my list is a tender bundle of fresh asparagus. Easy-peasy made on the grill to accompany a char-broiled turkey burger. I just clean em up, drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with sea salt and fresh ground pepper. Bundle them up in a neat, little, tin foil package and toss them on the barbe. Simmer to perfection in about 15-17 minutes. Yummy-yum-yum. So if you haven't caught on THIS is the LOVE part. Now for the HATE. Doing the body good by consuming this low cal, rich in beta-carotene, vitamins B, C and E, potassium, zinc, iodine and fab folate food has a terrible side effect. Stinky #1 people. Bad, bad, bad smelling urine. Wierd, huh? At least we live in a day and age where I can simply google, "asparagus stinky urine," and find out exactly what the dealio is. This in turn got me thinking... It's a good day for a poll. Let the world know if you are a stinky asparagus pee-er ro not, come on... it'll be fun.

Happy Day MOM!

2009-05-11T16:49:00.004-05:00

So, I'm a day behind. I have a good excuse though! I spent the weekend with my MOMMY. We did all the things MOMs and thirty-something daughters like to do together. We got manicures and pedicures... We shopped and lunched... We reminisced and gossiped... We drank enough cocktails to make today feel like rehab.

To my MOM, my MOM-in-law, my Auntie who is like a MOM and every other MAMA under the sun-I hope you had a great Mother's Day full of breakfasts in bed and heartfelt wishes. A round of X's and O's to everyone who turns their head when someone yells, "Heeeey MOM!" at the grocery store! Yesterday was all about you and I hope your perhaps otherwise naughty munchkins (age 3 to 30+) gave ya a break for the day. Happy Mother's Day!

2009-05-05T07:43:00.004-05:00

We did it! We came! We ran! We hobbled to Fletcher's and drank Bloody Marys'. We could not have ordered a better day for the 13.1 mile jaunt. Warm, not hot, sun and a pleasantly cool reading on the thermometer. Thankfully the course was beautiful, trailing along Lake Minnetonka which took my mind off of all the hills-sort of. The goal was to just finish the damn thing before they dismantled the balloons from the finish line at 2 hrs and 25 mins. We strolled in easy, breezy, at 2:14: some odd seconds. Over 1,000 people finishing before us and over 500 people finishing after us (thankfully). Thank you to Martina and P-man and Nicki and Henry for picking us up at the finish line and taking us directly to greasy burgers/fries and vodka. Thank you to my Hubby for running with me, when he easily could have taken off and left me in the dust.

FYI: The rest of the afternoon I could be found horizontal, covered in ice packs to remove the heat from my irritated joints.

I wasn't up for the challenge of carrying a camera on the race (sorry). But, take a look at the official slide show and see who was caught strolling through a water station!

Hydrate

2009-04-28T12:12:00.005-05:00

I had a New Year's resolution to drink more water, and I did. For a day or two. Then I fell off the wagon just like virtually every other resolution-er did. Hydrating is so important, this I know. Keeps your body running on all cylinders, maintains your mental focus and stimulates your body metabolically along with a whole host of additional benefits. I know, if I could just up my H2O intake I could get rid of the last 3-4 pounds I want to shed AND feel better in general. I mean, this machine can not idle on coffee, Diet Coke and Gin & Tonics alone (although I would like to try it). In my quest I need to up the annie or antie or whatever the hell it is. First, lets state the obvious. Clear, fresh ice. I gotta feel the cold hit the back of my throat and slide all the way down my esopogus. The secret is in the slices-orange, lemon, lime, cucumber, etc. I'm keeping a pitcher of aqua in my fridge at all times snazzied up with fresh produce, adding just a hint of fresh flavor. If this doesn't keep me on the straight and narrow I'm a lost cause. Go on-adjust the recipe as you see fit and drink up my friends.

BREAKING NEWS! Introducing the 32C cup?!?

2009-04-24T09:41:00.003-05:00

I must start out with a disclaimer. One of my most loyal readers is my fabulous father-in-law. While I have been seriously letting him down lately with slim postings this may be too much information for him. Sorry Craig-er read on at the risk of knowing waaaay more than you want to!

Let me preface by saying I have been living a lie. A complete and total fallacy. I have been writing, living and, "hoisting,"
around what I have believed to be a pair of 34B cups. Until late last week. I swooped into a great sale at Macy's to stock up on some new (and long over due) over-the-shoulder-boulder(or in my case pebble)-holders. I had no idea my life would be forever changed by a Russian bra saleswoman. She spoke quickly, swiftly and I deciphered about 82% of what she said. As I awaiting the clearance of my check card she starred directly into my nipples and asked the dreaded question. "I measure you?" I bet my eyes were as big as DD cups as I quickly calculated how to politely say, "no frickin way you-former-Soviet-Union-er-you." But, I caved. I mean Oprah made it known-MOST woman are wearing the wrong size undergarments. She swung her tape measure, measured this, that and the other things and before you know it she proclaimed her professional assessment in her heavy brogue, "tirty-two C cup!" Holy crap! I was stunned as she explained the logistics of the cup placement and strap alignment. Nodding my head and pretending to understand, hoping she would unlock the fitting room door and show herself out. I did just as the bra-dictator told me and before you could say Mikhail Sergeyevich Gorbachev, I was a believer. A better fit, a more comfortable fit and above all else a C cup.

Now, the real question arises? What to do about Ramblings of a 34B cup, huh, huh, huh?

And another little secret... These are the best bras ever! Wire free support and enough padding to protect against chilly weather poke throughs! With a Macy's sale and coupon I scored 5 (count em F-I-V-E great bras for 85 bucks! Love it!

A Birthday Celebration for the Nick-ster!

2009-04-20T07:52:00.003-05:00

One of my best buddy-o-pals had a birthday over the weekend. She claims she's a C cup, but I think she'd be a D if she met the Russian lingerie lady at Macy's (more info on this tomorrow). Anywho, I love her regardless of cup size, and made a special birthday cake to commemorate the event. I wonder when the kids will start asking questions about funny things like 3-D cakes? I also wonder when my friends (and myself, gulp) got old enough to need two boxes of birthday cake candles.? I mean, when did we all decide to grow up? Great birthday party, great weather for porch living and an amazing birthday girl. Happy birthday Nicki!

More than a miracle.

2009-04-15T07:10:00.005-05:00

Talk about spring fever. The grass is just starting to green up and a few lucky trees are beginning to bud. While I'm not sure about filling my window boxes with blooms just yet I am desperate to play in the dirt. But this. This is gonna take more than Miracle Grow, I'm gonna need a flat out miracle. But I was sold immediately when I scored these three mini herb cachepots. Here's how weird the science is behind this. A little dried up turd of dirt grows like those ever expanding foam toys by, "just adding water." Directions request adding no more than ten seeds to the tiny pots. Of course, if 10 are good the whole pack is better, right? Sprinkle (as not to flood) them with water daily and hope 65 degrees and sun becomes a little more common. Oregano, Sweet Basil and Chives - I'll keep you posted.

Hurtin' Fer Certain...

2009-04-08T17:11:00.002-05:00

What the hell did we get ourselves into? When I said, "sure," I didn't really think he would do it. He says he's gonna do lots of stuff and never does. Of course I say that in the most patient and loving of tones. But, now it's done. Two entry fees paid for the Wells Fargo half marathon and now two prides are on the line with 4 weeks til go time. Today we logged 7.6 miles. My right hip was screaming, my left knee was throbbing and my right top molar had its own heartbeat. Yes, my tooth was mad about the run too. His right foot was causing him to run with this funny gait that made him look 90. Is this what it feels like to be 90? What is going on with us? Cardiovascularly we both coulda ran another 7.6, but our bodies were done. Two Tylenol each, three ice packs and and hour of good comedy on CBS tonight. I'm hoping it will help me forget we have less than a month until race time.

Seriously?!?

2009-04-07T13:04:00.002-05:00

Deep thoughts from Miss Kato...

Remember waaay back when? Back when my loyal servants thought I didn't belong on furniture? I knew they would crack. Especially the softy. She melts when I cross my paws and blink my big yellow eyes. This is all well and good when I am jonsin' for one of those fancy Milk Bones or when I am looking for a nibble of her P.B. toast. But, sometimes the Queen of this ranch has gotta sleep! I drop hints like, "Um, excuse me, but can you turn off the flash on that thing?" She acts like I'm in the mood for yet another photo session for that blog thing she wastes time on. Ahhh well, the trade offs for living the life of K9 royalty. Now LAY DOWN, I gotta snuggle in for my nap.

Smooth Operator

2009-04-06T00:00:00.001-05:00

First, a bone to pick. I am a pretty faithful Cuisinart appliance purchaser. I love my quad toaster, totally dig the hell-outta my Grind-N-Brew coffee pot and use my crock pots/slow cookers like no ones biz. But the blender is a different story. I don't mind dropping a little extra cash on a quality appliance. The whole, "you get what you pay for," situation. But when you burn through two $150 blenders in a matter of four years it's a little ridic. A blender! You know, the appliance which takes up a ton of space and is a total pain to wash. The appliance you bust out when Jose (Cuervo) comes to visit. Unfortunately, or fortunately, I'm not making margaritas every night so a blender should last at least a decade, shouldn't it? Anyway, blender 2 just crapped the bed and I refused to buy another.

Tada! My new favorite thing!

Bella Cucina (which sounds kinda Food Network fancy) makes this great one cup blender and it totally kicks tail. My hubby and I are smoothin' it out everyday in our quest to prep for the summer season. Here's how the smooth operator works. Start to fini about 5 minutes.

Prep is no sweat.
Dole frozen fruit (strawberries, wild blueberries, dark red cherries-defrosted about 30 secs in the micro).
A shot of orange or apple juice for smooth drinkability.
A scoop of Trader Joe's soy protein (depending on the day).
A ripe naner (ba-nanar is a must if you use protein powder).
A scoop or two of Yoplait fat free vanilla yogurt.

Screw on the blade, flip-er over and one little press till perfect blendafication (try that word in your next game of Scrabble). Any-who 34B cup made up words or not. Get one NOWISH. 50% off at Macy's! You're just 30 bucks away from fabo smoothies and 4 easy servings of fruit.

Fashion Friday: The Broken-in Tee

2009-04-03T08:15:00.005-05:00

The lap of luxury or perhaps comfort. Not to be confused with the boxy tee you get for finishing a 5K. The broken in tee has scrupulous tailoring skim the curves of the bod. The result. Laid back, but not sloppy. Comfortable and classy. The, "I didn't work very hard on this outfit and I still look adorable," look. My favorite source? The Crew. I know-your shocked. Spend a little time on their site and notice worn tees don't have to be Plain-Jane. Embellishments welcome. Layer these great tees under your favorite cardigan or suiting. Or don one a la carte with a great pair of denim or chinos. After all, it's Friday. Get comfy-look cute.

See you Monday for my new favorite thing.

Baby Griffin is Here!!!

2009-04-02T18:56:00.006-05:00

This is unbelievable! Imagine arriving at the hospital at 11:55pm, pushing 4 (yes four) times (without drugs) and having a beautiful baby boy in your arms by 12:43am. Unreal. Then look this great (showered, hair done and make up perfectly in check) ready for visitors. All I know is I'm sure glad I'm not next in line to have a bebe. I'm certain I won't make it look this glamorous. Aw, ain't these a great looking pair of bambinos? And, of course, check out whoobie no. 2. Congrats Willie fam. You did great!

I should let you know I am not worried about the Asian Bird Flu or anything. Just a classic case of the sniffles, which I refuse to pass to this little bundle of joy, hence the creepy mask. And yes, I have a big, toothy smile underneath that 3M material that makes your face sweat like a, "floozy in church." Lord, knows I should be ready for a baby on board sign in my car. I corralled one, two, three, four, five and six of em at Lini's daycare yesterday. Solo, I might add. Everyone happy (mostly), well fed and above all well loved by the Bcup.

Just cuz...

2009-03-23T15:44:00.005-05:00

A photo today just cuz even on the worst of worst days I still feel like the luckiest lady in the world to have these two knuckle-heads in my life. Not that today is a bad day or anything, but I'm just counting my blessings. Love you two!

Happy St. Patty's Day!

2009-03-17T13:57:00.002-05:00

Enjoy a pint, or two or three. Hell, have ten or twelve for all I care! Just call it luck of the Irish if you can still get up on time for work tomorrow, if ya have to go that is :)

D.E.S.P.E.R.A.T.E.

2009-03-16T19:26:00.005-05:00

Up here in the frigid tundra we call Min-knee-soooo-da vitamin D has been on back order. Oh, yah, hey, we've really missed havin' the sunshine for the last 4 months. So if we look at little desperate at 56 degrees Fahrenheit-we are. We, I mean my hubby, gets reacquainted with the grill. Yup, we break out the lawn chairs. We tuck em back in the garage, safe from the wind and right, smack dab, in the center of the sun's rays. We bust out frozen can cool-ies from the freezer and dip into the icy cold brew-ha-ha supply. Just add neighbors and voila-instant par-tay. Now those knuckleheads who are out and about sporting shorts? Now, those are some seriously hearty souls (and slightly nucking futs, if ya know what I mean).

Family Heirlooms.

2009-03-10T21:48:00.005-05:00

I'm in full fledge purge mode (again). This weekend I cleaned out every drawer in my kitchen-the pesky junk drawer included. I gave Goodwill more Pampered Chef gadgets than you can shake a wooden spoon at(sorry MOM). I'm living life under a new personal mantra, slogan, motto whatever you call it. If I don't love it and if it isn't going to be loved by future generations it's out. So with that said, if I got somethin' you want you better tell me now. I can put a piece of masking tape with your name printed on it and you can have it when I'm gone-maybe sooner (PS I'm not planning on going anywhere). Speak now else ya run the risk of, "it," showing up in the donation pile or collecting points in the recycling bin (if it's recyclable and weighty!). But here's the point... when my kids/grandkids/friends clean out my house they won't have to lug box upon box of, "saved treasures," out the door. In my mind that's both good news (no saved paper clippings and baby teeth) and bad news (no masters hats) all rolled into one. See the knuckle heads (Nooncy and Hubby) found their perfect treasure from their Grandpa Hubert. They remember these hats as his staple headgear any time he hit the links. Not a club was swung without a bottle of warm water and a masters hat. This, plus fond memories of Grandpa hitting the ball off two-breast-like-hills or , "hitting it off the boobs," equals the need to have these cherished family heirlooms. So think about it. What will you be remembered for?

Oh and speaking of family. Calling all of the Cholick fam-dam: check out our official reunion blog!

Remembering Charlie...

2009-03-06T09:47:00.002-06:00

March 6th. Bitter and sweet. This sweet little boy was born to two of the best parents ever - 8 years ago. His stay was short, but his impact on this world has endured. I swallow the lump in my throat and find solace in the fact that Charlie is among angels... Happy Birthday sweet, little boy and happy anniversary to your very special parents, whom I love dearly.

Happy Birthday MOM!

2009-03-05T00:00:00.000-06:00

Happy Birthday to my little Mama Bear! Little as in all 5 ft 2.5 inches of her. She's a live one this mama-o-mine and as sassy as the day is long(wonder no longer where I get it from). I'll never forget the year she turned the big 6-zero. She specifically said she didn't need to have a party with customized, "Over The Hill," invitations. She didn't need everyone knowing how old she was gonna be. Opps! Little did she know the invites were already signed, sealed, delivered. Ahhh, but that was a few years ago and I'm sure by now she won't mind the entire blogosphere knowing she's a year older. I just hope, pray, wish and hope a little more that I look this good when I am cashing in all those senior discounts. Ha! Happy Birthday MOM. I love you.

Remembering Grandma Tootie...

2009-03-04T07:34:00.003-06:00

Grandmas are special. Grandma Tootie is no exception. Loved for her kind heart and sassy personality. Renowned for her harvest dinners (think peaks upon peaks of mashed potatoes) and banana bread. Honored for her membership in the church and her high scoring bowling game. Known as a, "senior statistician," with the Minnesota Twins. Her memory lives on in story after story told about her over the weekend. We didn't hold a funeral per say, but rather a true celebration of life for a woman who lived a full one. She lives on in the hearts and memories of her 5 children, 15 grandchildren and 12 great grandchildren and countless other family members and friends. We love you Grandma Tootie - we will miss you. We will never forget you.

Obituary from the Lakefield Standard:

Funeral services for Dolores Cholick of Lakefield took place Sunday, March 1, 2009, at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church in Lakefield, with Fr. Charles Quinn officiating. Burial was in the St. John’s The Baptist Catholic Cemetery in Minneota Township, Jackson County. Dolores Cholick died Feb. 26, 2009, at the Colonial Manor in Lakefield. Hansen Funeral Home of Lakefield handled the funeral arrangements.

Dolores “Tootie” Helen Cholick, daughter of George and Clara (Schumacher) Havier, was born on Dec. 29, 1922, in Lakefield. Tootie grew up in Lakefield and graduated from Lakefield High School in 1940. Following her education, Tootie was employed at Walker Insurance Agency and later worked at M.N. Johnson Mercantile until 1947. She married Hubert Cholick on Feb. 17, 1947, at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church in Lakefield. Following their marriage, the couple resided on a farm in Minneota Township, Jackson County, and Tootie worked at Campbell Soup Company in Worthington and later at Berkley’s in Spirit Lake, Iowa, until she retired.

Hubert passed away on Oct. 29, 1998, and Tootie continued to live in her home until she entered Colonial Manor in Lakefield on Dec. 12, 2007. Tootie was a member of St. Joseph’s Catholic Church in Lakefield and served as a trustee. She was a member of Lakefield Council of Catholic Women and served as treasurer for eight years, and was a member of St. Bertha’s Guild. She also was a charter member of the Hanson-Ward V.F.W. Auxiliary and belonged to Minneota Project. Tootie enjoyed cooking, playing bingo, bowling and socializing with friends.

Tootie is survived by her children, Marie and her husband, Marvin Rickert of West Des Moines, Iowa, Hugh and his wife, Deborah of Duluth, Ga., Robert Cholick and his fiancé, Rose of Norcross, Ga., Joan and her husband, Craig Voss of Lakefield, and Thomas Cholick of rural Lakefield; fifteen grandchildren; twelve great-grandchildren; and two brothers, Richard Havier of Knoxville, Iowa, and Michael and his wife, Susan Donaldson of Lakefield.Tootie was preceded in death by her parents; her husband, Hubert; and one brother, Gerald

Happy Birthday Laurie!

2009-02-26T08:02:00.002-06:00

Happiest birthday wishes ever being sent off to my buddy-0-pal Laurie! Never in my life have I met a sassier, hotter, smarter, confident-er (that is word, right?) gal. She's the total package all bundled up in a beautiful, ivory scarf and a designer bag!

Let's just run through her stats real quick like:

A brain for numbers: CHECK, although not in an awkward accountant sort of way. My apologies to all the awkward accountants.

The legs of a hoopster: CHECK, she was a Pierre Governor for cryin' out loud.

A domestic diva: 1/2 CHECK, not so much on the domestic part but a titch diva.

The heart of a great friend: TOTAL CHECK, tried and true.

Happy Birthday Love! Hope it is the best-est one yet!

The "whoobie."

2009-02-25T07:39:00.006-06:00

Come on, pleez say you know what I am talking about? If not, you need to get in touch with your inner 80's and rent Mr. Mom. It was only one of the best movies E-V-E-R! The coveted whoobie, the security blanket, the blankie people. Every kid needs one, don't they? Oh fur-sure they do and guess what? I MADE one! Now, don't look close, it was the very first and as I keep cranking them out I will get better at it... Quilter's promise. So this quilting thing-it takes a little planning. You even have to use a little of that menacing math you learned in grade school. First step pre-wash all the fabric to ensure you don't run into any shrinkage. Next, the fabric is cut with that pizza cutter tool you see to the left. After all those little squares are cut you gotta spritz each one with lavender water (helps baby sleep) and iron each and every one of them flat as a pancake. Now get your machine (I power a Brother-each your heart out Singer people. Ok, fine, not really, but it gets the job done.) out and warmed up. Aren't I the cutest little quilter you've ever seen? Here's my proud shot (notice it's morning). I'm getting closer! The backing is on (too bad you can't see its past dinner-almost bed time)! If you think at this point you are done forget it. Any good crafter has to mark his or her territory. I chose a patch, hand embroidered (that makes it sound nice and neat. It wasn't) my signature. Taaa-daaa! Finished product, hand crafted for Baby E. (girl-that's my guess)!

237 posts ago...

2009-02-23T15:59:00.000-06:00

...blog was born out of the need to find creative release in cyber space. It was just over one year ago that I typed my very first post - ahhhh those were the days... Before I knew how to upload and hyperlink photos or add polls or funky music to my site. Hmmmm, back when adding a new post was at the very tippety-top of my neaty printed to do list. Not saying that it's not still on the list, but lets get real. The B cups have had a few things going on these last few weeks which have trump-d blogging. But, we're gonna swing outta this winter funk we got rocking and ride this blog like a dirt bike. I know all ya'll still risin' and shinin' at the crack of dawn need something to do while enjoying a cup of joe in your cube. I still have all sorts of crap to write and my vow to keep this bloggy as current as Amy B's hair color still holds true. So keep coming back for another healthy helping... more taste, less filing.

Tomorrow, I get all crafty. See my newest hobby before I move on to something else.

It takes a village...

2009-02-18T16:00:00.007-06:00

Young, impressionable minds. Yearning to soak up knowledge and skills, perhaps preparing them for the rest of theirs lives. Indeed it takes a village to teach a bright, young, vivacious children how to deal with losing and hopefully winning too. Is it a problem these lessons are preached via a fist full of pull tabs? I didn't think so...

Guess what tomorrow is? It's a BIG day. Did I stump you? Here's a little hint: two hundred and twenty two. Come back tomorrow and see for yourself.

Some call it luck...

2009-02-16T16:46:00.003-06:00

So I'm not SUPER superstitious. I'll gladly walk under a ladder. I'll break a mirror just for the drama-of-it during a good argument (so, not really, but wouldn't that be kinda fun?). And

Friday's that fall on the 13th have never really freaked me out. BUT, I so think someone is thinking of me when my nose itches (all good, I hope). I ALWAYS make strong eye contact when, "clanking," glasses after a toast (a lifetime of bad sex if you don't!). I totally make a wish on stars, eyelashes, wish bones and birthday candles. I never pick up a tails up penny. And I seriously used to think if I didn't, "shoot," my morning Q-tip right into the waste basket it meant a bad day for sure. But, my hubby doesn't think anything is about luck. Good luck, bad luck or indifferent luck (if there is such a thing) is not part of his mantra. So he didn't think a thing of it when he opened up his fortune cookie this weekend and it was... Empty. (Que the creepy mood music... reeet, reeet, reeet, reeet...)

Ok, but if you are a titchy-bit superstitious toss a little salt over your shoulder and check out this website for all the crap you need to start worrying about.

Nothin' good happens after midnight?!?

2009-02-09T20:57:00.009-06:00

Woweee! Nothing like living the high life, acting like you're still 21! Maybe it's cause Turbo and I were room-mates when we were 21-ish. That was back when Turbs drank nothing but, "The champagne of beers," or, "baseball beer as he called it." He probably had to consume a few beers to deal with livin' in a house full of girls. He claims we all once sat around and watched him scrub and scour the pizza-greased oven. Hmmmm, I plead the 5th. Well, anywho no Miller High Life this weekend, but plenty of Premiums, way too many Glueks, a couple of Honey Weiss' and a Blue Moon or two and we were well on the way. On the way to where is the question? We started out the evening acting our respective ages as we conversed about weather (ha), literature (ya right), the current economic state (bor-ing!) and boogers. Not just boogers, but boogers being flung and caught and well, you had to be there. But here's the thing, it was my first real opportunity to hang out with the gal that stole Turb's heart. Gotta watch out for an old friend, ya know? But here's the truth. Dustene is the coolest gal ever, I just love her. I even had to razz Turbo a little about how he fooled such a keeper to put up with him and his hot-dog-roaster/bun-toaster. But, alas he did and the four of us took Jackson by the balls (baseballs if you will). First stop Pillars, a fine establishment where I took the liberty of drawing something inappropriate and phallic on the dry erase board. Serves em right for leaving the markers out in plain site. Real mature, I know, but not illegal. Then straight to the LOD Baby or the Legion of Doom aka the American Legion (thanks Vets). To my surprise they were giving out, "souvenir," Budwieser/Twins glasses so Dustene and I each happily tucked one in our handbags. Um, totally mature and slightly illegal. So if you frequent J-town you know last call is always at Bucksnorts since they serve until 2. Whoever said nothing good happens after midnight clearly never stayed out until 2! We met this handsome devil, I sat in the best seat in the house and we snuck home with yet another Budweiser, "souvenir," beer bucket. I'm lucky I'm not in jail. 2pm, my judgement is clearly impaired and I have a feeling my bar-mates were in the same boat. But, who can call it quits without a round or two of night caps beers paired with a dominating round of Catch Phrase (and 2 bags of Doritos). Thankfully we had the where-with-all to call a semi-sober driver to take our stinky butts home (thank you my dear sweet Brotha Nooncy). This is what time it was when we got in the car to go home. 4am people. Four A-M is what time I drifted off (passed out) in bed. Hmmm, grow up? Nah.

Happy Birthday (x's 2)!

2009-02-09T00:00:00.000-06:00

Hip happy birthday to a sassy little mama! This one she's a real live wire. She might want you to think she's all sweet and innocent, but I know better. Just as soon as you are free and clear from probation (she's pregers with no. 2) we are heading straight for whiskey-waters and some Harper Valley PTA karaoke (Brian has lots of make up sober driving to do!). To show you just how much I care, I am going straight the General Mills aisle to buy you a case of those fiber bars you love for your birthday! Happy Birthday Martina! Looking forward to celebrating this (and many more) birthdays with you!

And now, stay tuned for another special birthday wish...By now you all know about my friend Hank, right? Well it just so happens Hanks Gpa shares a birthday with Martina! I mean February 9th produced some dang good stock if you ask me. Gpa E is 'bout the best you can ask for, but it's no secret Aberdeen, SD is known for the smart, fun, cute peeps it breeds. Right? RIGHT? Anywho, I'm sure glad I've hooked up with Don and his fam, so sending a very Happy Birthday with across state lines. I'm looking forward to kum-bi-ya-ing the cops away from the camp fire again this summer with ya!

Tomorrow a crazy weekend wrap up.

Fashion Friday: Interrupted.

2009-02-06T11:18:00.006-06:00

Every once in again I have to exercise my authority around here and change it up a little. Today is one of those days. Today, it is more important to send a big ole shout out to the MOM's instead of talking about all the cute spring garb already lining the shelves and racks of retailers (more on this next week). We have had a little hiccup in the employment road at our casa. Nothing we won't overcome only to end up better off on the other end, but still... It's a little whack (side note: I love the word, "whack," I'm going to try and use it daily. Hip-er & lazier than, "whacky," and a lot less Carole Burnett-Laugh-Inny.). So, anyway it's what I like to call totally whack. The MOM's notice a little pick me up is in order and boy do they deliver. MN MOM sends a great golf shirt for the hubby to drool over until the weather cooperates 4 months from now and a, "keep a stiff upper lip," card. Thank you Joanie! SD MOM sends a package I call, "death by chocolate." (Just a little side note here... I ate a KING sized Butterfinger yesterday accidentally. You know you take a bite, twist the open end closed like a loaf of bread to signal, "no more." Then each time you pass by you take, "just one more little bite," and then you realize you might as well finish it off?) So, I say 2 weeks at absolute tops and all those KING bars will be gone. I had a bite of a Milky Way this morning, but now I'm serious. I'm done. On top of all that chocolate was a bag of K-9 junk food for Miss Kato. A secret envelope for Henry?!? (if it's money-I'm keepin it) And for me?!? That great, quilted, gray, patent leather handbag you see in the photo and a makeup bag full of cool hair product! Love, love, love it. I actually picked the handbag out for MOM to buy for herself. She has some crazy notion that she is too short to carry a big bag like that so it came back across the MN border and onto my shoulder. Whoo-hoo!

So thank you MOM's (and Dad's). XOXOXO and one more X to all of you.

Recycle MG Style!

2009-02-04T21:43:00.004-06:00

Hang on. Give me a second to climb up on this big, ole soap box of mine. Careful, careful, don't want to pull a hamstring... Ahhh, there we are... Where was I? Oh ya, Recycling. I'm a fan. I've been known to convert a friend or two from the sinful world of ALL trash to separated recycling baby! I mean it's the least we can do to to try and live a little greener. But, lets lay all the cards on the table, shall we? I, the avid recycler, am guilty, as charged, of at times throwing the Jiffy jar in the trash. Pleez, go easy on my penance. I justify not cleaning the jar b/c it takes a solid 10 minutes and 20+ gallons of gas-heated-water. Not any more! MG has enlisted in a new single sort recycling program. Yup, the NW metro is going all techy in the sanitation depo. Here's how it works in a nutshell (or dare I say recycle bin). We clean out all our beer/wine bottles, aluminum/tin cans, beer/wine bottles, jars/jugs, beer/wine bottles, crush all our paper boxes and stow all our useless paper waste into one big roll-er-out-to-the-curb containers. The nice, "garbage," truck guy operates that magical arm which simultaneously scans a computer chip in our container, weighs our recycling and dumps our compost into the big truck. The more we recycle the more points we get. The more points we earn the more dollars redeem via gifts cards and online shopping. They claim the typical Grove fam will get about 20 smacker-roos a month! Not bad for doing our part. Now, if only we could figure out a use for all that dog poo... Tomorrow? Another recycled fav. I think you're gonna like em!

Strike!

2009-02-03T21:25:00.004-06:00

It's tough out there. Try and turn on the tube without hearing about the woes of the economy, the qualms with the big bailout or the shrinking housing market. If your family is like mine you're feeling the pinch of the increasing unemployment rate and the sting of Cobra payments. All this on top of a typical February vitamin D deficiency, paired with the sub zero temps, and even the most jovial of souls are feeling a little blue. Personally the stress of it all compounds when my bed is unmade, my floors are unswept and I haven't had a good sweat in a day or so. It's too bad I don't come equipt with a meter that screeches at decibels only young ears and dogs can hear signaling it's time to switch on the endorphins. Today was one of those days. I was at my limit and slightly cranky at best. I hit the club in time to try a new(er) class and officially got my tail kicked. "Strike," is sponsored by Everlast and is a hybrid kickboxing/martial arts/weight lifting class that will make your rear end burn in places you didn't think possible. You're arms are fatigued by 1lb gloves on each hand and you swing a 9lb body bar around like a born again ninja. Nine pounds! Doesn't sound like much but try jabbing and blocking and moving that thing around for an hour and it's a guaranteed smack in your butt, back, shoulders, biceps, triceps and chest. It hits em all baby and logged 889 calories burned on my heart rate monitor in just an hour. And the best part? Let all that aggression burn from your pores as you simulate, "smacking someone side the head!" If you live in my hood, be there, 4:45pm each Tuesday, Anne is the fearless-exercise-nazi-leader, your gonna love/hate her!

Holy Buckets!

2009-02-02T21:59:00.004-06:00

I know. One week and nothing. You keep knockin' each day and I just won't answer with an update. It's cuz... stuff. Too much stuff to tackle (and still do a blog post). I know. I'm being ambiguous. I'll fill ya in. All in good time my pretties. My creative (kinda) blogging juices are flowing and I have some things up my wool-sweater-over-long-johns sleeves. So come back. This time ring the bell or better yet just use the key under the mat and let yer self in. See you tomorrow!

A warm hello to Lutheran Airlines...

2009-01-27T19:02:00.004-06:00

My friend Heather sent me this hilarious joke. This in particular is dedicated to my Cavalier friend who gets tired of me telling Catholic jokes (I figure I can tell as many as my brain can retain considering I'm Catholic too). So, anywho it's da Lutran's turn for a little humor.

WE ARE PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE LUTHERAN AIRLINES IS NOW OPERATING IN MINNYSOTA! ALSO SERVING VISCONSIN, NORDERN MITCHIGEN, NORT & SOUT DAKOTA

If you are travelin soon, consider Lutran Air, the no-frills airline. You're all in da same boat on Lutran Air, here flyin is a upliftin experience. Dair is no first class on any Lutran Air flight. Meals are potluck. Rows 1 tru 6, bring rolls; 7 tru 15, bring a salad;16 tru 21, a hot dish, and 22-30, a dessert. Basses and tenors please sit in da rear of da aircraft. Everyone is responsible for his or her own baggage. All fares are by free will offering, and da plane will not land til da budget is met. Pay attention to your flight attendant, who vill acquaint you wit dasafety system aboard dis Lutran Air. Okay den, listen up; I'm only gonna say dis vonce: In da event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, I am frankly gonna be real surprised and so vill Captain Olson, because ve fly right around two tousand feet, so loss of cabin pressure would probably mean da Second Coming or someting of dat nature, and I wouldn't bodder with doze liddle masks on da rubber tubes—you're gonna have bigger tings to worry about den dat. Just stuff doze back up in dair liddle holes. Probably da masks fell out because of turbulence which, to be honest wit you, we're gonna have quite a bit of at two tousand feet, sorta like driving across a plowed field, but after a while you get used to it. In da event of a water landing, I'd say forget it. Start saying da Lord's Prayer and just hope you get to da part about forgive us our sins as we forgive dose who sin against us, which some people say 'trespass against us,' but what can you do? Da use of cell phones on da plane is strictly forbidden, not because day may confuse da plane's navigation system, which is by da pants all da way. No, it's because cell phones are a pain in da wazoo, and if God had meant you to use a cell phone, He wudda put your mout on da side of your head. We start lunch right about noon and it's buffet style wit da coffeepot up front. Den we'll have da hymn sing; hymnals are in da seat pockets in front of you. Don't take yours wit you when you go or I am gonna be real upset and I am not kiddin! Right now I'll say Grace:

Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest and let deze gifts to us be blessed. Fader, Son, and Holy Ghost, may we land in Dulut or pretty close.

Now seriously, tell me that isn't funny?!?

Don't eat the yellow (or blue, or red, or green) snow.

2009-01-26T21:14:00.004-06:00

Life lessons when you live in the frozen tundra called the Midwest. Veer clear of the yellow snow and ice for obvious reasons. But this is different. A little lesson in art which caught my eye and inspired me in a thrifty-crafty-pre-school sorta way. A simple concept of food coloring and watered solidified by the unbelievable winter temperatures we have been enduring. Resulting in a colorful ice-sculpture-garden that left me with a hankerin' for a Mickey Mouse Popsicle. I dunno, call me crazy I thought it was kinda cool (frigid pun intended).

Fashion Friday: Aretha's Hat Trick.

2009-01-23T00:00:00.000-06:00

Hatty Fashion Friday to you! Lets cut to the chase and talk about it. Aretha's inauguration day hat. Love it or hate it? I dunno... I'm on the fence post about this big-bad-arsed-bow of a hat. I LOVE the hat on this cat or this cat in fact. On cow? Just above Dick's brow? Well, it's all fun and games until someone gets stuck wearing it-so go on. Go to buzzfeed and if you have some photo-shopping capabilities don the snazzy hat on an unsuspecting friend. Then cast your official vote to the right. Have a super fantastic weekend.

It's Bikram Baby!

2009-01-21T20:30:00.007-06:00

We are talking H.O.T. house baby. The thermostat reads 105 degrees with a side dish of 40% humidity. Just warm enough to get all your muscles loose and stretchy like a piece of Laffy Taffy that has been left on your car's dash mid summer. But, what do I know? I'm just a yoga red shirt following the lead of my yogi-pal. She's the master bender/twister/stretcher/downward dogger (downward dog, huh?). I'm slippin' and slidin' trying to lasso then hoist my sweaty foot behind my back and the Nickster is all zen-like in the, "happy husband," position. Well, fine-so the, "happy husband," is not really the name of that pose but I gotta believe it makes for some... never mind. Anyway the bottom line is it's a good change up from the regular fitness regimen. So dress light, bring lots of water and we'll see any takers THIS Saturday morning in Plymouth for a free session. PS Its a good way to sweat out all those Bud Lights you plan on consuming Friday night-I'm just sayin'.

We. Got. Skunked.

2009-01-19T21:09:00.009-06:00

Skunk~d (skungk~d) tr.v. Slang.

1. To defeat overwhelmingly, especially by keeping from scoring.

2. To chill your feet atop 15" of ice for 2+ hours and not catch a single gosh damn fish.

It was my first ice fishing expedition. I donned what I thought to be the right apparel (two pair running tights under Columbia Omni-Tech ski pants, two Under Armour shirts under a cotton turtle neck under a Nike performance hoodie, two pair of wool socks under supposedly warm Columbia boots, a fleece lined skull cap and a down jacket to boot) and I was still freakin' chilly. My Hubby drilled all sorts of holes in the thick, hard, ice and tracked water depth and marked fish with this fancy Vexilar technology (the thing that really takes most of the sport out of old school fishing). We set up the Fish Trap (fancy for a bottomless tent), fired up the propane heater and, "jigged," our little-mini-rods in attempt to lure our prey... the crappies. The first hour my toes where a little cold but nothing I couldn't, "play," through in anticipation of the big bite. One hour-20 minutes in I'm getting a little antsy I haven't had so much as a nibble on my line and my piggies are starting to tingle (and speaking of tingle-I gotta pee and there is no way I can drop trou in a snow bank). One hour-40 minutes in our fancy lil heater runs outta juice and I can see my breath in the, "tent," every time I open my mouth to pout and my feet are definitely frozen. One hour-55 minutes my Hubby realizes his Eskimo wife is at her limit and will NEVER come back if a hot shower and perfectly steeped cup of tea is not administered STAT. But anyway, the story is really only sorta funny if you watch my two clips-combined it's a 3 minute time investment-but it's this or some other You Tube crap, so go on... pause the blog music and watch em.

My Hubby is the world's best sport...

...but even a good sport can only be a good sport so long...

Must see TV.

2009-01-15T21:34:00.002-06:00

I'm a list maker. Maybe I've told you before, but I make list of what I need to do, should do, want to do, dream to do, etc, etc, etc. My whole list thing is slightly neurotic if I do say so myself. Which brings me to TV. I don't own a Ti-Vo/DVR doo-hickey for fear the backlog of recorded shows would be another page in my, "to do notebook." I likely would never leave the confines of my living room because of the crazy need to watch every single trashy tabloid talk show, soap opera, so-called-reality-tv and sitcom. Instead I single out just a few weekly picks, screen my phones calls, "ssshhhh," my husband and focus on my non-HD boob tube. So here are the hours you can't call, or rather you can-I just won't answer. But listen, why would ya call on Wednesdays at 7 when you could be watching the New Adventures of Old Christine? Julia Louise Dreyfus is hysterical AND it's a sitcom. Thirty minutes. Your in, your out, and no one gets hurt. Soooo, it's 7:30 and your snug as a bug, no forehead wrinkles or scowl lines since you've just spent the last half hour giggling like a school girl. Why not make it a square hour and stay tuned for Gary Unmarried. After all it was voted this years' People's Choice Award, so it's not just me who thinks it's funny. Then exercise some restraint and turn the damn thing off. You'll have another shot Thursday night at 8 when you gaze into McDreamy's eyes through the thick glass of your Zenith. Grey's Anatomy... I'm still a fan. So see that's just two hours to rest your brain from those literary marvels you have been dowering. But JUST in case you are looking for a little box DVD set of absolute hilarity you MUST rent, Netflix or purchase Strangers with Candy. Amy Sedaris plays a non-trad high school student who was a, "boozer, a user and a loser, but now she's back in school," and delivers the most un-pc comedy cable has ever seen. Be sure to make it a guilty pleasure and watch all 3 seasons in one weekend. I mean if I can do it-so can you.

The Vlog.

2009-01-14T21:10:00.004-06:00

Just when you feel like you have the cyber world by the go-nads you see yet another technical advancement in the world of blogging. Say hello to the vlog. Kinda like a blog post only completely animated and way over my head. My personal vlog fav? The Blah, Blah, Blah girls. Who post a new vlog every Monday, have a hilarious site, sell Blah T-shirts, post celebrity smut AND manage to have an endorsement from Vitamin Water. Totally hate-able if they weren't so damn funny. Speaking of funny-tomorrow I'll give you the 411 on some MUST see sitcoms since it's to freakin' cold to do anything else.

Happy Birthday Catfish!

2009-01-12T21:21:00.004-06:00

Dude, duuuuude, d-uuuuuu-da! It's time for a shout out to an oldie, but a goodie! Catfish, Catfish, Catfish... If you hadn't asked me to, "play nice," I woulda had no problem telling the world you are 27 years away from collecting your first, "ss," check. Opps, well anyway what's the big deal-e-o bout almost being fffff... forrr.... forttt... Oh, almostfortyget it already. How's that go? You are only as old as you act (feel, whatever). In your case I'd say your older than 2, but not a day over 21. If the porch was open, I'd crank Buffet on the Ipod & send ya off with a birthday jig-you handsome devil you! This Bud's for you! Happy Birthday to one of my most favorite people in the whole wide world!

Resolve.

2009-01-09T09:28:00.009-06:00

Happy Fashion Friday. I know, I know. Today I am supposed to produce some useless fashion info that you likely never ahere to. But, I'm busy. Busy working on New Year's resolutions. I thought I better get them in writing before I cast them off as lost causes. NYE this year was a little different than years past for a few reasons. A. I stayed awake waaaay past midnight. B. I tried a on a couple of Mexican traditions for size. C. Instead of trudging through the snow I shuffled through the sand. MOM and I rang in the New Year in prime time style this year. On the beach for a fiesta fit for the 2 queens we are. Lucky for us the cute, little (& when I say little I mean it) Mexican waiter had a little, "thing," for me. N-E-V-E-R in all of Mexican history has a table received better service under the, "open bar," philosophy. You can tell by the gloss in my eyes we took full advantage (of the open bar, NOT the waiters advances). We dined on lobster bisque, shrimp the size of my palms and pina coladas after pina coladas after, well you get the picture. So back to the new traditions. Each guest writes a wish for 2009 and attaches it to a balloon. At the stroke of midnight the entire clan releases the balloons over the ocean in attempt to make the wish come true and pollute our natural resources. I of course, wished for Health, Happiness and all 6 Power Ball Numbers. Then this happened. Fireworks, waves crashing in. The steamy, salty air flushing our dewy cheeks. Soooo romantic - if you weren't there with your MOM.

What NYE fiesta wouldn't be complete with a mantra of American tunes blasting across the bay for a beach side dance party? Now, I had consumed my fair share of, "toddies," but I was no where near catching up with this drunk dancer...

We laughed, we drank, we shared a truly great mother-daughter memory. And then we got the hell outta there as soon as MOM spotted her Mexican stalker (Sebastian) for fear he would make her dance. "Leen-da," as he so lovinly refered to her, has never left a party so fast in her life.

Ok, so real resolutions... Drink more water, eat better and overcome all challenges with a positive attitude AND all 6 Power Ball numbers (someone has to win). Happy Friday!

MOM caught on tape.

2009-01-08T13:31:00.008-06:00

Ohhhh, Mama Mia... What did we do before we could capture bathing suit videos on our digital cameras?!? BTW, it's nine degrees here. Nine, 9, niiiiinnnnnneeee! Remind me why we live here instead of some tropical paradise?

Tomorrow, we talk resolutions. No more putting it off, 2009 is here and now. Get off your hump and make, "it," happen.

El Centro-not so nice-o.

2009-01-07T21:44:00.006-06:00

Well, you might think we spent all day everyday drinking coconut juice, soaking up the Vitamin D and listening to the waves crash in. But, as I hinted yesterday our trip to el centro wasn't hiccup (or should I say gag) free. So let me set the stage. It's HOT. Freakin' HOT. We're treking through the mangled, little, sea side town in search of the perfect chili relleno. Mario, the leather amigo, sent us on a wild goose chase down the board walk, over the foot bridge, into the ghetto of all ghettos only to find the sketchy "restaurant," closed. MOM wasn't the typical happy camper on the blistering walk back. I led the way guiding her around the trip, stumble and fall hazards that plague this little Mexican village. And wouldn't ya know it. I, the fearless leader, the guide, got caught up in some gawking... And just that quick I was caught under the Policia's sniper fire. Not really. The real truth is I was snooping in an open door and when I turned my head to march on... I marched my forehead right into a metal awning. Talk about adding injury to insult or however the hell it goes! This was it. The adventure into the city was over as far as MOM was concerned. But being the tough broads we are we gave er one more try at Fontnac Susies for our sought after rellenos. You'll be surprised to hear this establishment offered a ceiling fan on low and no a/c. I ordered dos rellenos via sign language and half assed Spanish. The plates came and I posed for a photo, documenting our journey, goose-egg and all. And then did the unthinkable. One bite, the first bite, produced a guttural gag so loud I can still hear it. MOM didn't think we should have to pay for food that tastes like a, "soggy paper towel." I suggested she consider whether she wanted to try and explain that to a woman who doesn't speak one i-oda of the English language. She thought it best to just pay and leave when I told her, "if you think its hot in here, wait till you get to the Mexican jail!" We hailed the nearest cab and went back to the beach to, "drink," our dinner. Never fear the next day we rallied... the split forehead and near vomit attach wasn't all in vain. We made the trek back past the family selling freshly caught oysters on the half shell. I made a friend at the fish market who insisted I pose, "kissing," this ugly Mahi Mahi. And an amiga whom I purchased a handcrafted necklace from insisted I email her a copy of this photo. We left el centro just after an entire city power outage that scared the begeezuz outta us.

Tomorrow a MOM beach video-hilarious.

Hola chicos y chicas!

2009-01-06T21:17:00.005-06:00

I'm back, we're back. I traveled 4.5 hours each direction with my jittery-air-travelin-mom, praise be for in-flight cocktails (5 US dollars). We checked in to a great little hotel, right smack center, on playa la ropa, the best beach in the area. Before you could say, "dos cervezas por favor," MOM had a margarita (foreign ice and water won't scare her) in hand (33 pecos). While basking day after day in 87 degrees of tropical bliss we still needed to establish some sort of a schedule (two bossy type A's what do you expect?). Each morning at 6am we woke just long enough to mark our daily territory (lounge chairs) with blue and white striped towels. We exchange a few words on our differing preferences for the A/C setting and catch at least another hour (if not two) of pre beach sleep. At 9am sharp every morning we invest 60 minutes to get a full bod massago-la from the Marias' (250 pecos). Every massage MUST be washed down with an icy cold Corona and a wedge of fresh lime (24 pecos) and some guacamole and sea salted tortilla chips (30 pecos). A little splish-splash (cold?! nah, warm!!!)in the Pacific and MOM is ready to do some beach side bartering with one of the silver dealers (25 US dollars). I take the more frugal approach and purchase two of these woven Mexican specialties ($3 US dollars). After our sun kissed cheeks are rosey red and our shoulders golden brown we hail a Mexican hell ride into the el centro of Zihuantanejo (30 pecos). We walk (and walk) in the sweltering town square in search of the perfect chili relleno. I run into a metal awning and take a chunk outta my forehead and MOM audibly gags on some nasty Mexican fare (priceless). Detalles mañana. (Details tomorrow.) Adios.

I'll tell you one thing...

2009-01-01T00:00:00.000-06:00

...while we may be drinking beer and sipping fruity drinks with umbrellas don't expect us to fall for this trick. Well, on second thought don't expect to see me, but you never can be too certain about MOM. I'll bring you home a baggy of sand and a 3 for $9.99 t-shirt.

PS Happy New Year. Can't wait to talk resolutions with you. Were do we even begin?!?

Wish you were here, havin' one of these too.

2008-12-31T00:00:00.001-06:00

Just to rub a little salt in the wound, or should I say on the rim of our margarita glasses... I sense you might be angry?!? Come on now, no hard feelings. If you take it all back we will bring you back a pack of, "Chiclets," and some of those friendship bracelets those bambinos make. Gotta go, time to flip-we wouldn't want to tan unevenly.

Wish you were havin' one of these.

2008-12-30T00:00:00.003-06:00

Incase you forgot. MOM and I are laying on the beach, sipping an icy cold cerveza since we won't drink the water... Lord knows we don't want to spend the next tree days in the banyo with the trots. We still wish you were here, BUT since your not... We'll be sure to have another round JUST for you.

PS Don't forget your mittens, I wouldn't want you to frostbite your cute little fingers.

Wish you were here.

2008-12-29T00:00:00.002-06:00

Hate me, hate me, hate me. MOM and I are just chillin' (or warmin' I should say) in Mexico. Yup, I packed my spf 70 sunscreen and I am acting as an imposter with my spray tan. I'm sure we will have lots to report when we jet set back to the Midwest. Until then... wish you were here.

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-25T00:00:00.000-06:00

Merry Christmas, sure hope your sh!tter isn't full... a good plumber or Roto Rooter is hard to come by on Christmas morn. Just like my holiday card said, "I hope Santa brought you all the things you don't deserve." I mean come on, he knows about all those shenanigans you pulled in 08. Whatever, enjoy the day with your family and friends.

"Roll," out Christmas Eve

2008-12-24T09:01:00.004-06:00

Happy Christmas Eve all you Santa wishin/hopin/wonderin bloggers! Ya know it just wouldn't be the hip-happy holidays without some calorie laden cinnamon rolls. Alas, a new tradition has been born. Hank's mom and I are all about spreading the cheer. This year we created homemade, from scratch, whatever that means, cinn-a-li-cious, maple frosted rolls to dole out to our respective neighbors. We gave em to the cute couple next door who bonfires with us, the three neighbors with snow blowers, the one with season tickets to the Wild and the ones whom we backed right into their car. fa la la la, la la la, la la lahhhh! "Wook-it," us, as Hank would say, with our Leave It To Beaver (our husband's wish) aprons on. Ain't we the sweetest little suburban wives you ever laid eyes upon?!? I have a feeling some of the neighbs have no idea that A. We know you see us waving, wave back ya loser. B. We know which one of you called the cops. C. We are the best damn thing that happened to these hoods. And D. These rolls are a labor of L.O.V.E. Here's how it unfolds, or should I say un-rolls... We have to start by taking a Friday off (we deserve it). We then scald this mixture of oil, flour and sugar. Wait 45 minutes and DRINK WINE. Add yeast to the now cooled mixture and a boat load of flour. Wait an hour or so and DRINK WINE. Add a titch of this and a titch of that (while making dinner reservations)and roll out the hand crafted dough. No one likes a dry roller, so avoid getting parched by DRINKING WINE. Spread enough butter to cause insta bum cellulite and sprinkle (more like pour) on the cinnamon and sugar. Roll em up, slice em up, bake em up and frost em up while acting like you still care after DRINKING TWO BOTTLES OF WINE. Wrap em up all cute and deliver your tin of peace, love and holiday bloat to all those not high enough on the list to get a real present. Merry, Merry! See you Christmas morning!

One year ago...

2008-12-23T00:00:00.001-06:00

... I had the worst Christmas to date. It was December 23rd (dah, one year ago) and I was at the gym, grabbing one last pre-holiday workout, (like it really mattered) before I began all the cooking/cleaning for the 16 people I was hosting for Christmas Eve. It was snowing, the roads were slightly greasy, and as far as I knew that would be the biggest challenge of my day. I speed dial my cute hubby to check on the status of his end of the bargain (getting Miss Kato her daily dose of exercise). "We had an accident, but don't panic, it's all gonna be fine." It must have been pure hell to have to say those words, and besides he knows I'm the panic-er... one of us has to be. "Kato got a little slice, and we are at the emergency room. They are checking her out now." I smell his lie like his farts in the car. I 34b-line myself right to the best veterinary emergency room in the West metro (Eden Prairie-bless those folks) to meet them. He DID lie. It's not just a, "slice," she has been impaled by a unseen steel fence post sticking out of the snowy turf at a 42 degree angle. Forty-two must have been our unlucky number as this was the number of stitches it took to mend her torn hide. Gulp. I know. It makes the 8 stitches I had on my bum sound like a day at the park. Eight hours later the Doc surfaces and tells us she has completed the difficult task of putting Miss Kato back together again. We had already cancelled the holiday festivities and left 16 others without Christmas Eve plans too. I can't even write about taking care of her that night. It makes my tummy turn and flop. It must be what MOM's feel when they are taking care of a very ill child, who can not communicate or understand where this pain is coming from. They all broke it to me lightly. If Dr. Silverstein had told me right away it was about the worst he had seen, I would have lost it. If I had known it would be 2 weeks of sleeping on the air mattress in the living room, and another 4 with my hand tucked under her chest (in case she tried to move or lick) I would have lost it completely. Completely as opposed to being about 10 seconds away from loosing it everytime I saw gunk coming out of the drainage tube she had in her tummy. It was about as blue as I have ever been. So, anywho to make an already long story short... Now, I scratch her chocolate brown head, tickle her salt and pepper chin and trace my finger along the long and jagged scar and hope she doesn't remember one year ago. Then, I dream about the Louis Vuitton handbag I could have had instead of paying those vet bills. Ahhhhh, what the hell, she is totally worth it.

Tomorrow, a much more cheery post. You needed a little break from all this holiday cheer didn't ya? Anyway blue skies (and yummy rolls) tomorrow. Scouts honor.

Eau du BK

2008-12-18T12:46:00.005-06:00

I'm so gonna puke. Have you heard about what shenanigan (or dare I say Whopper) Burger King is trying to pull off? Fire Meets Desire, "Behold the scent of seduction with a hint of flame broiled meat?!?" I am seriously going to barf. For a limited time only (thank God) BK is selling, "Flame," it's own personal fragrance. If you are completely recession proof and have nothing better to spend $3.99 on then we should have a chat. If you are in need of an extreme white elephant gift OR if you are looking for that special-something-kind-of-gift for someone you really despise, proceed to BK, this is the answer. So it's the week before the holiday, you need a good chuckle 'round the office... Follow the link above to the, "Fire Meets Desire," site for some relatively funny footage. I swear, if you bring it anywhere near me, you'll see my gag reflex in full action. Go on check it out. Don't be the, "one," who doesn't get the Saturday Night Live skits that are sure to follow.

R.E.M.

2008-12-16T12:00:00.002-06:00

I'm a loud talker. I know it. I talk loud on the phone, I talk loud in person and when I am paired with another loud (and fast) talker I can really get the decibels crankin. I'm sure this paired with my preferred method of filing (piles. piles on my desk, piles on the floor, piles.) does not make me candidate for the, "Cubicle Mate of the Year Award." But come on now, this is a whole nother deal... Now I chill at my, "home office," in the lower level of my little shanty. You remember my associate, don't you? She doesn't talk much, and if she starts take me to the closest padded room, but she snores. And dreams. And kicks and flails. And makes weird slobbery, lip smacking noises while she naps... all day long. How's a girl supposed to get anything done when you have this kinda ruckus going on? And yes, she's on the furniture and so is all her pesky little brown hairs. It's a different topic for a different day. So anyway this goes on for 4, 5, 6 hours sometimes (broken apart by potty/treat breaks) and wouldn't ya know it? I try and get a video and this is all she gives me... Riveting, I know.

Who you callin' a (pit) bully?

2008-12-15T20:19:00.006-06:00

Dogs are dogs, are dogs, ya know? I mean sure, some breeds are predisposed to being loud mouths like the Beagle. I'm not sayin', just sayin' some are more likely to bolt like the Greyhound. Sure, sure some are perhaps predisposed to be a bit more high strung like the Weimaraner or more chill like the Newfoundland. But the idea that one breed is mean to the milk-bone??? I don't buy it. I mean take my pals Moses and Menina. These two knuckleheads think, well actually they are, lap dogs. Menina is so sweet, she'll lick your ears so clean, she'll make a Q-tip nervous. Moses will do the, "Labrador-lean," right up against you, so you can't resist giving his muscl-y body a rub down. All in all these two turkeys are sweeter than some Bichon Frises I know. I think it's all about how they are A. Loved by their K-9 mamas. B. Loved by their breeder. And C. Loved by their owners (homosapien mamas and papas). So when peeps say a particular breed should be, "banned," it really stikes a nerve with me. Yes, it is true... The Staffordshire Bull Terrier, otherwise known as the pitbull, was originally bred in the 1800's for dog fighting and ratting. But, according to my Encyclopedia of Dogs, by Dr, Bruce Fogle, "The modern Staffordshire Bull Terrier is brave, intelligent, and tenacious. It is affectionate with people, trustworthy, and stable." Now tell me how many co-workers you have that are brave, intelligent, trustworthy and stable? Exactly. I rest my case...

PS Ames-thank you so much for having us over AND for THE BEST homemade pizza I have ever had!

Fashion Friday: So bad it's good.

2008-12-12T08:00:00.005-06:00

Happy Fashion Friday you-holiday-jingle-bellers-you! Today, a few words about the best/worst holiday outfit evah: the ornamental sweater. It's all about embellishments. Buttons, fringe, sequins and bells, oh my! A personal fav is this frosty (shown left) who is apparently playing a little peek-a-boo from inside this cardigan. Cute and sassy all rolled into one... just like me?!? Be sure to match this little number with your holiday dickie and a pair of ornament dangle earrings. Now, even tastier is the ever popular circa 1984 sweater vest. Goes perfectly with a holiday turtle neck and a pair of Uncle Eddie polyester trousers. If you've held onto one of these festive classics since the 80's, congratulations you are officially a bonafied pack rat. If you yearn for the sweater of decades gone by, don't fret. Stop by the nearest Ragstock for a plethora, "piled out," options or swing by the local Goodwill for a look-see at what folks have finally decided to part with. Just don't miss your opportunity to sport this classic at the office party, block party or local-yocal-towney bar. It's sure to be a hit.

Go Elf Yourself!

2008-12-10T12:19:00.000-06:00

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Halls: decked.

2008-12-09T12:00:00.000-06:00

I'm soooo on it this year. I drug the prelite 9' tree outta storage, plugged her in and covered every square inch of it with bling. The stockings are hung from the chimney with care and 70% of my shopping is DONE, wrapped and stuffed under the fake fir branches. My holiday photo has been taken, cards are addressed, stamped and in the mailbox with the flag up. My card stand (which is actually a retro bar-chip-rack-holder-thing) is up waiting for all ya'll slackers to get er together and send me mine. If I hear the Herberger's commercial one more time, "Give jooyyy, Give jooyy, Give jooyy, Give jooyy. GIVE JOY! Come to the right place!" I swear I'm gonna put my size 10 right through the screen of the TV (so, everyone has a little holiday aggression, right?) My exterior lights are up and flip on and off manually until I can figure out how to use the damn timer... again. My window boxes are billowing with $106.00 of spruce tops, rose hips and other coniferous branches (hi-way robbery, if I do say so myself). And those little indoor/outdoor white light manufacturers? They are a bunch of damn liars. One light goes out and the rest stay lite? I call B.S. on that! Once I get my tail in gear and throw these out I can officially sit back sip a, "hot toddy," and wait for Santa to squeeze his big, red, butt down the chimney.

We're freakin' nuts...

2008-12-08T20:01:00.002-06:00

The alarm clock rang at 6:45am. The grind-n-brew did it's thing at 6:50am. I could hear old man Winter's frosty breath rattle against the bedroom windows. The thermometer registered at 8 lonely degrees. On any other morning it would have been torture to consider crawling out from under the pile of flannel sheets and quilts. I slithered out from my cozy nest, brushed my bucks, slapped on a little lip gloss and began the layering process. Five, count em, five layers of dry fit on the top and three layers of running tights on the bottom. One pair of cotton socks covered with some wools ones and a fleece lined stocking cap to boot (this is one way to work up a sweat). Cue the snow. I know, if we weren't from hearty Midwestern stock we woulda turned right around and called it quits. But, it's tradition, and debatably child torture, all in the name of a great T-shirt. Our second annual Reindeer run was 5 kilometers (3.1 miles) of undoubtedly, "fresh," air and fabulous company. I mean listen, if St. Nick can make his way through the white and wintery snow, so can Hank's all terrain stroller! In theory it looks like a day started in the right direction with a healthy does of outdoor exercise... Until we capped of our adventure with a greasy Chammps burger and two rounds of bloodies (don't forget the side cars). Well, afterall we certainly thought we deserved it. AND, just because my hubby LOVES it when I, "roll," my own home videos...

Will Design For Food.

2008-12-05T07:16:00.006-06:00

I've been outta touch, I know. But I'm back and in rare blogging form. So, I know you are asking yourself, "what in the sam hell is going on with that crazy chicka?" I, like thousand of other have found myself without my old 8-5 due to the,"R," word. Now, close your mouth, it's really not a good look for you. I kinda didn't tell you right away, and I hope you aren't mad. The heads up was a good thing. It gave me the time to have a minor melt down with a side of a nervous breakdown. But now, mentally I am ready to tackle this job-less-ness head on. (Head on, apply it directly to the pain, head on... remember that terrible commercial?!?) Anyway, I'll spare you all the gory details, cuz there aren't many, and just say on all accounts my departure could not have been more amicable. Ok, so now what, right? Now, I design for food (preferably money if ya have it), and try to make heads or tails about how to start a little ole interior design biz of my own. Maybe call it 34B & Associates? Only problem is this is my only associate and she's not real great at answering the tele. Then I thought 34B Design With Me, but it sort of leaves the door open for competition to rebut with 38DD Design With Me, and we all know I can't compete with that. So I'm gonna keep it simple. Call it like it is... Brooke Voss Design. Ok, now what? As soon as I figure it out I'll let you know.

But now seriously... Have you ever heard the phrase, "Friendship is like a bank account. You make as many deposits as you can cuz you never know when you will need to make a with drawl." I'm not sure what I did to hornswaggle all these great people into friending me, but without a doubt I have made some serious with drawls lately. For you who diffused my initial panicked call and who offered, "lean on me," (I almost needed to after our afternoon into evening bar stint) without you I am sure I would still be crying in my beer-thank you-you have no idea how much you have helped. For you who spend hours on the phone with me telling me how you did it and how I can do it to-thank you made me see the light and helped me move on. For you who called from Lakefield EVERY SINGLE day to just say, "how ya doin today?" your call always left me feeling loved and at ease-thank you. For you, who has been my, "side-car," and free lance designer since 1996 your friendship is like those of folklore-I am eternally grateful you moved into 810,Gage B. For you, who I initially didn't want to tell about the woes of the time for fear you would fret-thank you MOM for everything always-now stop worrying. For you, who lived through every wave of emotions, no doubt I married up. I can honestly say without you and your CONTINUOUS support I would be nothin. For you, my family, who is stuck with me for life thank you for being there, and I didn't really mean your mom should return you. For everyone, you know who you are, thank you for your emails, your phone calls and your pep talks. Now, Monday, back to your regularly broad casted 34B cup nonsense. Thank goodness. Happy Friday.

I'll be back...

2008-12-03T08:32:00.002-06:00

Listen... Cut a gal some slack. I've got a million and one things on my mind which is why I have been totally slacking in the blog depo. But, I'm back on the wagon and will have an update of what the heck is going on with me later today. Blog with ya soon...

XOXO, 34b cup

Post Turkey Bloat...

2008-11-28T19:40:00.002-06:00

If you are feeling anything like me, still feeling so full, wearing anything other than elastic waist pants is out of the question. But, tis the season for indulging in all the holiday cheer and fare. I did, we did and to be quite frank it was so worth it. So go on... permission to deviate from your South Beach diet. We spend the day ala turkey at the Disgruntled Princess' castle, as per normal her feast was nothing short of amazing. The day wouldn't have been complete without hearing what everyone is thankful for and the annual Thanksgiving play. Ahhh, I give thanks for my nutty relatives. Be sure to check out the Big Snoot's blog for an update on the Turkey 2008 photo album. Have a great weekend and take-r easy on your, "black Friday," shopping expedition. I think I've heard some mumbling about a slight recession. See you Monday.

Denied access.

2008-11-25T09:08:00.004-06:00

Remember waaaay, back when my blog was born? Remember, when I said this blog stuff is sure fun, but a damn waste of perfectly good time? I take it back, suck that statement right out of your waxy ear drums. I have found something else that is beyond stupid, beyond silly, so far beyond your typical mind numbing cyber experience. Face it, Facebook is the ultimate time killer AND I LOVE IT. So surprise! To the left is my Facebook profile pic, complete with weird, double-side-chin thing I have going on there. I look hip-hap-happy as a clam because the pic was taken at a bar amidst a barrage of cocktails, again big surprise. So anywayz, if you too are wasting precious seconds of your life, which can never been recovered, "Facebooking," look me up. Lets regret this when we are old together, huh? Speaking of regrets to date I have just one, well, besides wearing that stripped shirt that makes my arms look large and in charge. I'm not gonna get into all the blood and guts, but there is only ONE person on this universe I wish would have eternal, scarring acne and burning, molten-hot diarrhea. Yesterday, he asked to be my, "friend." No way, no how is this mother of all mother humpers getting a glimpse at my daily updates. I'm off limits! Denied access you creep-o-la! Git, go, skee-daddle back under the rock you crawled out from under! Put that in your pipe and smoke it! Ahhhh, there... with that off this big chest of mine I feel much, much better.

P.S. What happens if you click ignore to a friend request? Just curious...

I. Love. Her.

2008-11-24T12:22:00.005-06:00

I spotted her out of the corner of my eye among the oodles and oodles of crap/treasures at Hunt and Gather. She's creepily fabulous with her slightly upturned grin/scowl and her prominent German nose. If she was still alive (painting circa 1920) she would definitely have I Feel Bad About My Neck on her short list of good reads. I mean, seriously, get a look at her gobbler! I bet she was a real bi-atch in the best-est sense of the word. The kind of broad who curtly sat in the front pew at church, but flew home to tear the top off the bottle of moonshine with her teeth. Yup, that's her. Forty bucks later (my Hubby says I got screwed) she earned her NEXT resting spot atop my mantle. NEXT, because who knows were she will land once her immortal life with me is over. But here's the real question... Where did she come from? I mean someone loved/hated her enough to paint her and now she ends up somehow, someway unwanted (except by me) at a local antique store. Where's her family, why isn't she creeping out her great, great, great grand kids friends instead of mine? Anywayz, she is fabo and I've decided she's my good luck granny. Oh, and her name... Mathers. Granny Mathers because Martina said so...

P.S. Antique art = Saving a Landfill. I love this peice (artist unknown) and this peice by my Great Uncle Quinten (painted for my MOM) too.

Fashion Friday: Today's Favored Accessory

2008-11-21T13:39:00.006-06:00

Happy Friday kids of legal drinking age! Today's Fashion Friday post features my favored accessory for the weekend... any cold, wet, alcoholic beve will do. Fire me an icy cold one, or a perfectly shaken not stirred one, a finely garnished one, an exotic one, a $10 bottle one or hell gimme one a these M-F'ers. All I know is we'll be needing a round of these in the morning! Now, we all know you can't consume all of these in one bender booze session or you'll end up sleeping with john (been there, done that)(as in the crapper people, come on). So pick one or two (beer after liqueur never been sicker, liqueur before beer you're in the clear) and forget about all that moderation nonsense. Each and every cocktail-a-licious accessory comes with foggy eyes, a shiny forehead, a fat tongue and a severely impaired sense of judgement. Doesn't that sound fun?!?

Got one!

2008-11-20T13:44:00.004-06:00

Just by the hair on my chin-ney-chin-chin (reminder... wax tonight), but I got one. Whoa! It was a tough crowd this year. The secret got out that the down town Target on Nicollet Mall typically has samplers to go around. I didn't tell a soul... but someone let the cat outta the bag. So this morning I take the bus in and stroll across 9th Street to grab my quota of two samplers. Whaaa-paaa! I am smacked in the face with herds of crazy people acting like it's the door buster of the millennium! I barely got my copies and they were G-O-N-E! So here's what's so special bout these discs, in case you've been living under a rock. Each year Cities 97 asks artists to record acoustic sets of their latest and greatest hits in their, "studio C." 35,000 copies of the cd are made and are sold at local Target stores with all of the proceeds benefiting local charities like Make A Wish, Camp Heartland, Bridging, the Animal Humane Society (love) and the Tubman Family Alliance. I've already listened and already committed to burn two pirated versions for pals (buy me a beer-get a burned disc). The second copy? Ebay, baby!

Be veh-wee, veh-wee quiet.

2008-11-18T13:18:00.005-06:00

This whole duck hunting thing... It's complex in nature. I've never really understood it all. I would never have conceded if my Hubby hadn't finally admitted face paint is not mandatory. Gear for starters... More gear is required than I ever knew even existed (no wonder the Cabela's bill is what it is each month). First, you have waders so you can slither through the icy water to put out bags upon bags of decoys. One must always remember what goes out must come back in. Second, you can't forget you're four legged friends camo (apparently ALWAYS Advantage Camouflage) so she doesn't sink (or catch a chill). Finally, multiply all of that by two in case your spouse decides to (gets talked into) tag along. The next part is the worst... You gotta, "think like a gopher," and get up at the butt crack of dawn in the most inclement of conditions. No doubt, I would rather stay nuzzled in here. After all is said and done it's a game of calling (try the, "lonesome hen," it goes, "digga, digga, dooga, dooga) and waiting, and waiting and waiting. Or film a video so you will

NEVER be invited back again...

Say good-bye to my Coppertone'd bum...

2008-11-17T15:21:00.005-06:00

That's it. Done, dun and dunne. Oh sure, it's gonna be hard, but I've been scared as a ghost. AND, I'm gonna look like one now that I have turned over my new Casper white leaf. This morning I traded in my three stitches for sixteen new ones. Yes! Sixteen! Eight on the inside and 8 on the outside. Great. Just what I need is another dimple on my big ole butt. Here's the deal. Some lab rat in pathology didn't like what they saw under the microscope, so back under the scalpel I go. Carved right down to the fat and grissel to get all the bad cells (spitz tumor) out and keep me free of the melanoma. I marched (actually, more like shuffled) off the table and went right straight to Walgreen's. Two boxes of Tefla bandages, one jug of Extra Strength, Rapid Release Tylenol and SPF 70 sunblock for my upcoming winter safari. Think I am kidding?!? They really truly make it, and I really truly will be the, "whitest cracker arse," ever to walk the beaches of Mexico. I've seen the light or blocked the light, whatever. Uh, huh. A self photograph of my wound, all in the name of blog material.

Fashion Friday: Blaze on.

2008-11-14T12:07:00.006-06:00

Hip-happiest Fashion Friday to you! If you live in the getting-chillier-every-single-morning-Midwest, first off, sorry about that. Second, I hope you have fully transferred any linen to the back of your closet and wool or velvet to the front. Just because the, "rise and shine," temps are below freezing doesn't mean you have permission to wear a sleeping bag everyday. Autumn is the perfect time to break out the blazer. Maybe I should clarify... The UPDATED blazer. If your closet could be used as, "wardrobe," for the next Designing Women cast we need to talk. No shoulder pads. No pant suits. Just blazers. Here's a few rules to, "blaze," by:

No.1 Check the shoulders: Make sure the jacket doesn't extend beyond your shoulder creating the, "borrowed from my boyfriend," look. Unless, of course, you are doing the walk of shame or trying to do the, "borrowed from my boyfriend," look.

No. 2 Check the waist: If you are pear shape look for jackets which, "pinch," in a bit to define your, "little in the middle." If you have a larger midsection choose a jacket with a, "straight," fit.

No. 3 Check the length: Play with the proper jacket length to create the illusion of a longer torso if you are a bit more stout. If you have a longer, leaner torso (we hate you) wear a jacket cut right to mid waist and pull on a pair of low rise trousers. Keep in mind no tummy should be bared, so your shirt needs to be long enough tuck completely as to avoid the, "whale tail."

No. 4 Matching set not needed: Leave the Hil-ster to wear the pant suits. Pair your blazer with your flav-o-rito pair of blue jeans and a thin scarf for softness.

No. 5 Remember your fly: So it has nothing to do with your jacket, but just a friendly reminder. Be sure to check your fly after each and every restroom visit. I spy 'd an open barn door today in the sky way and didn't have the heart to tell her.

Happy weekend...

Under the weather...

2008-11-13T11:29:00.001-06:00

I'll take two and blog to you in the morning.

PS I want my MOM.

This laundry won't do itself!

2008-11-11T14:37:00.006-06:00

I don't know how I let it get sooo far out of control. One day life is good and the options of available clean underwear are endless. The next day you are standing bare-arse-naked in your closet searching the bin of undies. Upon the first round of digging you pass by the thong which cuts the circulation off to your brain. Forget the granny pants which bequif (did I really just use the word bequif? Did I spell it write? Don't mistake it for... never mind.) the VPL (visible panty line for any new and un-34bcup-educated readers). I'm certainly not going to wear the ones that are too tight in the waist, giving me a sort of spilling over the top feeling. Commando is not an option, at least not today, I'm not quite desperate enough. Why can't I just throw out all these stupid, ill fitting underwear and get on with going to work already. Time check: 6:45am and I gotta hit the road. Options: Speed wash? Hand wash/rinse a pair in the sink and hope my ion blow dryer has enough guts to dry em FAST. Recycle? Flip the back to front or the inside to outside. I'm grossing MYSELF out. Borrow a pair? Can you really tell if I am wearing a pair of boxer briefs under this wool a-line dress? Hose? Wear a pair of tights with a sort of built-in panty kinda thingy. I mean it's there for a reason, right? Right?

First, I'd like to thank...

2008-11-10T00:00:00.001-06:00

...my fans (hellllloooooooo, anyone out there?), my family and of course Grace-Fabulous from Question Certain Perfection for the Superior Scribbler Award! Feels just like getting your name on the board with a star behind it! See Hubby? All that clicking away of non-sense finally pays off with a little pat on the backside (if you touch my bum, I'll break your fingers). So here's how this thang works. I, the proud recipient, accept the award (thank you, thank you) and then I pass it on to 5 more noteworthy blogs (a.k.a. colossally fun time burners). You in turn check out these 5 new blogs and see what all the hub-bub is about. The 5 blogs I mention pass on the award and we spread the love in chain letter fashion. Comprende? So drum roll pleezzzzzzzz:

No. 1 Mama's Losin' It - this gal is good! Who doesn't love an attention craving poodle?

No. 2 Looky Daddy - He's funny, he's witty, he's a darn good daddy blogger.

No. 3 Same Stuff Different Day - Let's all embrace a brand new blogger, who some how, some way, found her way to the B cups. Keep on writing and I'll keep reading.

No. 4 SevEn CLoWn CirCuS - For cryin' out loud! Let's be honest, anyone who can raise 5 little people and still blog rocks.

And No. 5 The Sits Girls - Because I'm hungry.

There. I did my part. The chain was not broken and now it is up to the fore mentioned bloggers to let the legacy live. Go on people! Dooooo ittttttt!

1. Post the award on your blog
2. Link me for giving it to you
3. Link the originating post here
4. Pass the award on to 5 more deserving people
5. Post these rules for your recipients

P.S. Don't forget to check out my every, single, day, tried and true flav-o-rito reads listed to the right. These daily reads are near and dear to my bloggy heart.

Retraction: No Good Answer...

2008-11-07T13:22:00.001-06:00

I know it's Fashion Friday and I've made a promise to keep you up to speed on what I'm tracking in the vain world of clothes, shoes and accessories. But, today I feel so far from fabulous I can't come up with anything. Instead, I'll give a retraction to the statement I made yesterday about my post, "No Good Answer."

Yesterday I said... Of all days... Today... I got asked the good question... 10pm WCCO to see the painful response.

And today I say... It was not painful. More like excruciating. I've seeked him out, practically stalked, good ole Jason DeRusha on Nicollet Mall trying to get my 15 seconds of fame. Now if you REALLY know me you know I was really hoping to get on when my, "boyfriend," Ben Tracy did the segment. Alas, I missed my chance and he shipped out to interview all the California girls and Jason took his spot. Don't get me wrong Jason does a fabo job, but if I moved my not-so-secret crush on to him Hank's Mom would tan my hide. Anyway, you can tell my pal Betsy, "hates this kinds sh*t," as she so gently put it and I am practically yelling, "ROLL IT," before he can even get his introduction out. So go ahead watch the clip... Yes, I said, "CATASTROPHE," and my hubby pointed out I really meant, "EPIDEMIC." I'm a moron. And yes I really said, "layoff," to all the expert health advisers who say to get the flu shot. I'm way too sassy for my own good. And yes, I really truly said something about a bunch of people, "getting poked." What is wrong with me? Ashamed? I doubt it. If that were the case I wouldn't get through a single day. Seriously, though watch WCCO weeknights for more, "Good Questions," or view them online. If you are feeling really smart (or stupid for that matter) send Jason your own Good Question.

Monday: I pass on the torch for the Superior Scribbler Award. Stay Tuned! Have a great weekend AND if you really feel the need to protect yourself against disease spreaders like myself-go on get poked already.

Home SWEET SoDak

2008-11-05T10:54:00.000-06:00

Gas up the car, pack some clean undies and stow your favorite mix tape (now commonly referred to as your ipod playlist) for the 4.5 hour road trip through the heartland. I know... It's some serious windshield time. If you pack enough, "seeds," to coat the walls of your mouth with canker sores and make a pit stop here for a, "gut-bomb," burger (dog treats given out at the drive thru)(don't kid yourself we stopped on both legs of the trek) (thanks NJ) it seems tolerable. Stiff legs and a sore bum are a small price to pay for walking in the garage to see this. If your name were Bonnie, Karen, Christian, *Little Brooke or Kelly you would know this is the chalkboard used to play school (or plot out military attacks-stupid boys) in my parent's garage. The current inscription has been there since the day (Fall, 1996) I left for college. Just a quick little sketch of the U-Haul my parents drug 450 miles to move their only kid into twin towers, 12 floors each, full of freshman sneeking beer inside their backpacks. Twelve years later it is STILL there! Of course the house is dec'd out in Halloween style, per usual, and this crazy little witch (handcrafted by yours truly in 3rd grade) is still front and center on the back door. Question? Are parents really required to hang on to stuff like this for 22 years? If we are talking years, it was 17 years ago that I got my first job HERE! I worked for $4.25/hour, yes, less than the minimum wage. Well come on, I was 14 and loved coming home with sweet ice cream smelling hair, a stripe of over sprayed malt on my navy blue oxford and red cherry slush stained Keds. Ahhhh, 1991... Life was simpler then. School passed out free games/rounds/matches/whatever at the local bowling alley, MOM gave you cash & dropped you off at the front door of the theatre, nothing in your closet required you to stop on the corner of Main Street and 6th Avenue and the worst thing that could happen was a burnt tongue from a molten hot, cream-style corn nugget from Scotty's. Don't get me wrong I wouldn't trade spots now for all the Pinot Noir in Oregon. I mean nothin' is like sharing a bottle with your God Mother (The Ginge) and your MOM. Or seeing with your own two eyes your 92 year old gramma looks JUST like she did when she was 82.
So like I said, no matter where you live, pack up the rig and head where ever home is.

I almost forgot. You want to know about *Little Brooke vs Big Brooke, right? Let me explain it with pictures. You see we had two Brooke's on Willow Drive. One Brooke was little, petite, as cute as a bugs ear. The other Brooke was tall, average Midwestern stock, with big feet. Yes, Big Brooke = 34B cup. If that won't scar a kid for life I don't know what will...

ROCK THE VOTE...

2008-11-04T10:19:00.003-06:00

A quick update today before I tell you about, "home, SWEET, home." Go on and reward yourself for standing in line at the, "Church of the Open Door," for 1 and 1/2 hours! (BTW, why do the have a, "hot tub" in the lobby?) Sport your sticker all around town for free stuff! Free coffee at Starbucks! Free Ben and Jerry's ice cream! Free pint of Schells at Nomads! Free sex toy at Sex World (now I really have your attention!)! Free doughnuts at Krispy Creme! Free cookie at Wild Roast Cafe! Free admittance to the dance party tonight at First Ave! Free, Free, Free!!! I love FREE stuff (not as much as MOM, but I still LOVE it!)

PS If someone calls you tonight for the 16th time to remind you to vote, BE NICE! It might be the 34B cup!

You put yer right cheek in...

2008-11-03T12:41:00.004-06:00

Two words... Right Cheek. Three stitches. Pain level... 1. I can't believe it. Of all moles to be concerned about who-da thunk the one that has rarely (I won't say never) seen a ray of sun needed to come off. So it happens, ya know? All those years of greasing up like the Thanksgiving turkey are bound to catch up with a gal. Oh I'm sure it's nothing but better to be sure. Take the mole send it to some lab and then call me in a few days (you will call, won't you?). In the meantime I'll shuffle like a 90 year old, hoist myself with my arms into and out of my car and learn to sleep on my tummy for the next 2 weeks. Updates (minus gross photos) to follow. Tomorrow-the weekend update. A little look at where the B cups grew up (riveting blog material, I know.)

A Halloween Blog Post

2008-10-30T00:00:00.000-05:00

It just wouldn't be right if I didn't supply a MOM joke on Halloween Eve...

A bald man with a wooden leg gets invited to a Halloween party. He doesn’t know what costume to wear to hide his head and his leg. He writes to a costume company to explain his problem.

A few days later he received a parcel with the following note:

Dear Sir,

Please find enclosed a pirates outfit. The spotted handkerchief will cover your bald head and with your wooden leg you will be just right as a pirate.

Very Truly Yours,
Acme Costume Co.

The man thinks this is terrible because they have emphasized his wooden leg and so he write a letter of complaint. A week goes by and he receives another parcel and a note, which says:

Dear Sir,

Please find the enclosed monk’s habit. The long robe with cover your wooden leg and with your bald head you will really look the part.

Very Truly Yours,
Acme Costume Co.

Now the man is really upset since they have gone from emphasizing his wooden leg to emphasizing his bald head so again he write the company another nasty letter of complaint. The next day he gets a small parcel and a note, which read:

Dear Sir,

Please find enclosed a bottle of molasses and a bag of crushed nuts. Pour the molasses over your bald head, pat on the crushed nuts, stick your wooden leg up your ass and go as a carmel apple.

Very Truly Yours,
Acme Costume Co.

Come on kids, it's your civic duty!

2008-10-29T12:13:00.007-05:00

I don't care who you vote for as long as you vote for the same person I want! Ok, so that's not really true. Yes, it's no secret who the B cups support, but here's the real deal. I'm not interested in trying to talk you into supporting the donkeys and I'n not interested in being urged to vote for the elephants. Fair, right? So HERE IS what I am going to try and talk you into. Know the issues. Learn the facts. Don't let some TV commercial producer assist you in making these very important decisions. Knowledge is power bloggey voters and if you still don't know who you are going to vote for then, "what in the sam hell are you waiting for?" Seek out the candidate the most aligns with your beliefs and get your tail in line to vote. Complaining will not be tolerated by anyone who does not give a rip enough to learn the facts and take a stand. With that said, mark your calenders to do the right thing and vote (ok, so a little fun isn't illegal is it?). So everyone is talking (and talking and talking...) about Obama vs McCain and Franken vs Coleman and Madia vs Paulsen, but what about the other issues? (Insert Tim, the toolman, Tailer, ahhhuuuh noise here.) I know! There is more to think about! For example city offices, judicial offices (mental note to call Bean for input) and the Clean Water, Wildlife, Cultural Heritage and Natural Areas Amendment. So you have 6 days and counting. Getcher head in the game and learn about what you need to vote on. Here's how to attempt to wrap your brain around all of this if you live in Hennepin County. From the county website you can get yourself a sample ballot just by typing in your address. Great now half the battle is done. You know what is expected of you now get on out there and vote. Got cha!

The best-est little/big apple tree, ever...

2008-10-28T00:00:00.001-05:00

I know you were expecting a little romance today, but I lied. Get over it. Maybe tomorrow. Instead you get a story about a sorta sickly looking apple tree. A tree no more than 8 feet high, at best, rooted firmly in front of Grandma C's farm house. FYI-Grandma C., Dolores, Tootie is my Hubby's maternal grandma. A titch of arthritis, a smudge of Parkinson's and just old fashioned growing elder has taken grandma from her farm into town to a nursing home. So back to this little/big tree. It hasn't been trimmed, or watered (outside of mother nature's realm), or worried about and it certainly has not been fertilized in some time. But still this little/big, guy/gal has persevered and produced a bounty of beautiful apples. Weak looking branches hanging heavy and low because of the sweet, red weights attached to its arms. How could we drive by without stopping to collect the perfectly ripened pomme de terres? We couldn't. We picked a paper bag full AND still left the tree with more fruit for the next passerby. What to do with 50 lbs of apples? Stay tuned to see. Thank you Grandma Tootie!

Belated Fashion Friday: East Coast Trend

2008-10-27T00:00:00.000-05:00

Oh for Pete's sake, better late than never people! I'm a woman of my word so today we have a belated Fashion Friday tidbit for you. The B cups have arrived back in msp toting a little East coast fashion update in my carry on. EVERYONE (who is seemingly anyone) is doing the, "tuck." Channel your inner English rider because it's all the rage this season. Some heels, but mostly flat or wedge heeled slouchy (sometimes slim-biatches) leather boots in black, brown, deep blue or grey are pounding the pavement in the big apple. So sorry if you broke your piggy bank last year on a pair of these but alas the Uggs are out and these are in. Ok, fine still a few Ugg-ly boot spottings here and there but they are outnumbered 10 to 1 (at least). I can tell your mad. You think the, "tuck," won't work since you aren't a stovepipe-jean-kinda-gal, right? Think again. I am anything but the skinny jean type and I found the perfect pair to match up with my boots at JCrew. Try the, "Matchstick," fit which is definitely and straighter jean, but without the super low rise which leaves you susceptible to the, "quarter slot." I know you are gonna poop your, "Matchsticks," but this is coming back people! I know! But wait, there's more. The legging will not die and is currently being paired with these same boots and longer, bum covering, sweaters or T's and short, leather biker-esque jackets. Before you get all jazzed up about not having these items in your current line up consider this. The staple colors of brown, grey, black and white are still totally, "it," and can be mixed and matched in any combos. Black leggings, grey sweater, brown saddle boots? Yes! White shirt, brown jacket, dark blue jeans and black boots? Yes! Seriously, all neutrals are alike and can be paired how ever your little heart desires.

Speaking of hearts-tune in tomorrow for a tiney-eeney dose of romance.

"Sup," in the city:

2008-10-23T20:38:00.009-05:00

Hot off the 34B cup press... What's, "sup," in the city my blogging peeps... Are you ready? This is so fun... The house, and when I say house I mean mansion, that Mr. Big offers to buy Carrie in the Sex and the City movie is the SAME house I have been working in for the last few days. No need to read again. It's true! 2 East 63rd Street was used in the incredible apartment scenes AND is the location for the Holiday House benefiting the Susan G. Koman foundation! Go back and rent the flick and the room you see when Big and Carrie walk in the door... YES! it's the room my firm has for the show! Want proof? Here's what I know... One block off of Central Park, 5 floors, allegedly on the market for 70 million bukaroos, complete with an interior courtyard and library, living room and dining room dating back to the late 1800's (A plus sighting)! Yes, it's true it is in major need of come TLC, but still unbelievable real estate in NYC. Click here for more information on this amazing address! PS The girl working on the room next to us is a contestant on Top Design-I know never watched it either (D minus sighting). So today while walking to the house I passed Adam Sandler on East 63rd between Park Avenue and Madison Avenue! (PS his chin is getting super chubby-I know-happens to the best of em)(A minue sighting). So the evening got better when walking to get a glass of wine at the renowned Odeon (Tribeca) and stumbled across a taping of the new pilot show, Fringe, for FOX and saw Joshua Jackson from Dawson's Creek (B minus sighting)! So just when you think, WOW, this girl is where it is all happening consider this... For the 1st time since I have been traveling to this city I saw NOT ONE but TWO rats on the same day down deep in the bowels of the city's subway system. Not quite as glamorous for sure. Also, not as glamorous flying coach back to the midwest tomorrow morning. BUT, stay tuned for an update on the Fashion Friday: The MUST have-being seen everywhere trends from the big city.

Baby talk.

2008-10-22T00:00:00.001-05:00

Incredible. Absolutely, positively incredible. All these gals who were barely responsible enough to get passing grades and hold on to a part time job in college are now fostering our youth. I can't wait until Claire gets old enough for me to teach her the tales of living at 345 Ramsey Street #3. I'm gonna teach her important lessons like doing a, "bed check," every night when spring breaking in Cancun. I'm gonna be sure she knows to beware of budget hair salons and N-E-V-E-R mess with Texas. Amira my sweet deara... Just wait until I can tell you all about your Auntie Bean (not enough dirt on your mama yet-but I will be forever grateful for the pant-less ride home). That Auntie of yours, she's a smart one AND a tough one. Don't you worry she'll always have your back when a drunkerd steals your New Castle. Your Uncle Brian? Well, we aren't even going there until you are at least 18, maybe 21. Baby Charlie, I just wanna pinch those big cheeks and twirl my fingers in your curly locks. Ladies beware and gosh forbid you EVER get tangled up in a crew as crazy as these Maverick ladies. I'm not even going to talk South Padre Island for fear of resurfacing stories about the lady firefighter (remember the hotel room dance off? Eye-yiy-yiy-yiy-yiyyyy!!! Bottom line. You're mama has alot to be worried about. Whoa, Noah! Where do I even start? You're mom would like to you to believe she always towed the straight and narrow. Soooooo not the case-I mean she could barely guide the, "Gutless Cutless," straight down Balcerzak. Wait till I tell you about all the times she flashed the neighbors out the front window. Wait till you learn the hard (or should I say disgustingly warm) lesson of the calico beer. I can't help but wonder if you may not grow up to be a traffic cop considering your mommy's years of stopping traffic. Miss Ames... You my friend have more tales than I could ever tell. Your best bet it to wait to have children until I am tucked away safe in the alzheimers wing of a nursing home.

Thanks again Mav gals for a fun day of catch up. I love you all and can't wait to do it again (maybe Front Street style next time?).

This is how we do it...

2008-10-21T18:26:00.010-05:00

When it comes to beer consumption we, the united folks of the Grove, know how to hammer em down. When it comes to brewing and bottling... it may be a different story. Don't get me wrong our custom brews are perfectly hoppy, but our crew may not make it working a day on, "the line." It seems to me there was just as much sampling going on as bottling. The boys filled the sterile bottles with CO2 and icy, "cold beer, here," (as Wally would say) while the lovely dames added the custom, "Catfish Bait," and, "Fuzz Nuts Walnut Ale," labels (illustrations of the labels to follow in another post). Good thing we were able to keep ourselves (and the other brew-goers) hydrated, cuz dividing a keg among six cases of 21 oz bottles ain't for sissies (btw: plural sissy? Sissys' or Sissies?). It's a damn good thing we brought a mini van (kidding-cool it NJ) to load em all up (and even better that we brought our own slave laborers). Now don't shed a tear for us. After a hard day (1.5 hours) of working we needed a little nourishment (cue the cute, old fart who brings his own Schell's beer mug in a protective carry case to Bennett's) and a happy hour to unwind from all the drinking, er bottling. We grabbed dinner at a finer diner. Tell me the sign isn't the coolest thing next to sliced bread, or should I say next to TV dinners?!? No joke, the nightly special was a pot roast TV dinner served on a stainless compartmentalized tray complete with a glass of red wine and a rice krispy bar. Catfish (not to be mistaken with Confucius) says the best dang pot roast he ever wrapped his lips around (don't tell Lola). So we had a few more beers (I thought it went without saying but, FYI, never order a beer with a pheasant on it) and just when you think THIS is really living the high life... we top the night off by seeing a local celeb (too obvious of us? Profile isn't giving it away? Look again-one table over-there see him?). So there. No more sayin' I never take you any where nice.

PS It's all about who ya know. Lucky for me I have a BFF who is THE best graphic designer in the biz. Just wait till I can figure out how to post the labels she made for us. Ames you are THE best. Thanks again.