add another to my list of brokens

Current mood: curious

add another to my list of brokens -- the air conditioner.

bull in a china shop

Current mood: confused

UPDATE... today, while straigtening the lunch money I was about to hand to the cafeteria check-out lady, I ripped in half the 5-dollar bill that was in my hand. Luckily she laughed out loud, took the money while reaching for a role of tape, and handed me 4 crisp untorn 1-dollar bills.

Add one more to my list of breaks.

Seriously, something is going on! And until this curse is rebroken, don't take me into a china shop!

weekend of destruction

Current mood: destructive

Memorial Day weekend was… destructive.

The weekend started nice enough. On Friday evening, I had dinner at a new restaurant (new to me at least) called Press 101 located in Dr. Phillips. I highly recommend this casual, trendy restaurant if your taste buds are in need of something fun. It's not very common that I can truly say I've tasted something entirely new (with the exception of my latest venture with sea creatures), but at Press 101 I experienced hummus like I've never had, a sandwich like no other and I had the amusement of biting into a caper berry for the first time ever (and the bonus fun of debating what it was for a good ten minutes before asking the friendly owner who stopped by the table).

After leaving…that's when the destruction (sans proper permits) began. Breaking, breaking and more breaking.

First, on Friday night I broke a friend's drinking glass which resulted in red wine being splattered all over his beige carpet. The sunshine? Two points in particular - 1) the drinking glass broke when it fell against a glass coffee table which DID NOT break and 2) the red wine failed to stain the carpet.

Second, on Saturday I broke a promise. The sunshine? The promise was to myself and I'm fairly forgiving… so I've already been pardoned.

Third, on Sunday morning while making pancakes I opened the cabinet door (which turned out to be a boobie-trap waiting to happen) only to have every dish in my cabinet fly towards me as if being launched. While cleaning up the trillion shards that littered the countertops, the open dishwasher, the bowl of pancake batter I'd just mixed, the kitchen floor and even the bathroom floor, I discovered the one large piece of dinner plate that remained. It was approximately two inches across and one inch high and was the center of the plate that had been stamped with the name brand and a false promise. Below the word Correll, the gray letters said, "Chip and Shatter Resistant." The sunshine from this story? I had enough Bisquick and eggs to mix a new bowl of batter.

Fourth… now, by this time I need not even touch the victim to make it break. On Sunday afternoon when I opened the door to my truck, the glove compartment fell open. Upon investigation, I learned that the latching mechanism broke. No close no more. The sunshine? I learned the replacement is fairly inexpensive and should be an easy DIY job.

Fifth, on Sunday night I fell asleep wearing my glasses, rolled over during the night and… you guessed it. Broke the glasses and scratched the area between my eyes where the nose piece pushed upwards against my face. The sunshine? They were my old ones as I don't wear my daywear glasses to bed.

On Monday… the last day of Memorial Day weekend… a friend broke his sunglasses in my presence. It wasn't me!! Wooohooo!!! The sunshine? When he broke his own sunglasses, the only thing I broke was my weekend curse. (Yeah – sorry about your sunglasses.)

In the middle of typing this (Tuesday night), the electricity blinked. Everything came back on, but my cable box has yet to reload data and is still displaying a blue screen. Please don't be broken!!!

One goal...

Current mood: gallant


One goal… to go around the world (11 countries) eating culturally unique sweets in a one-day period.

Two people… Rob and I (both of us claim to have authored the idea).

Three bites… taken of fried fish in the United Kingdom before I felt my stomach flipping around and threatening to return the foreign substance. Baby steps, ya know?

Four bodies on a bench… when a non-English speaking woman pointed to our bench and shooed us with her hand to say that she and her family were intending to take over our bench (which we allowed to happen luckily just seconds before her husband, who had grown way too comfortable, began removing the shoes from his stanky, nasty feet).

Five adult beverages… French red wine, hot Japanese sake, German beer, German white wine and Chinese plum wine. I think that was all… drinking around the world will have to be saved for another time when sweets are not already involved.

Six months… the amount of time it may take before we can sample desert from Canada since the only available food (outside of popcorn or chocolate bars) is in Le Cellar and there is an outrageous six-month waiting list for reservations.

Seven dragons… ya had to be there.

Eight hours… the amount of time allotted to accomplish the goal.

Nine million flying bugs… gathered their troops and attacked in Mexico.

Ten short hours… between having the last sweet of the night (rice pudding in Mexico) and waking up the following morning hungry (believe it or not) and preparing a homemade sweet of sorts – buttermilk biscuits with peach preserves.

Eleven countries… in our next venture – to appetizer/snack/hors d'oeuvre around the world. But yeah, I don't know when that'll be.

love the buns

Current mood: bouncy

I just found out that the Big Texas Cinnamon Bun was voted "Pastry of the Year" by the readers of Automatic Merchandiser Magazine.

Now, how many people actually read Automatic Merchandiser Magazine I cannot tell you... but I can tell you that the Big Texas Cinnamon Bun is certainly my pastry of choice when it comes to automatic vending machines when I'm working at Epcot (some of you may recall my attempts to possess a Big Texas Cinnamon Bun of my own).

Congrats to the Big Texas company - love your buns!

Hehehe - I crack myself up. :)

two yappers and a goose

Current mood: amused

On the corner across from my condo, there is a house that is guarded by two yappers and a goose.

Behind the glass panels that flank the door of the home are the two yappers - brave, aggressive and the highest jumpers they know. (Not a yapper fan... big-dog barks are music to my ears.)

Standing on the porch a few feet from the schnauzer-jumping-beans stands a goose. A goose.

Uh huh… a well-dressed, countryesque, long-necked goose. I'm beginning to think the goose may have a more extensive wardrobe than I have. The goose, positioned where it can keep a daily watch on the front lawn and any passersby that are patronized by the stare of the goose and threatened by the jump of the yappers, sports new attire with each season, each holiday and simply each time the homeowner feels the goose needs a new look (and likely sends the gander-duds off for dry-cleaning).

I've actually witnessed the woman (who clearly has entirely too much time on her hands) sitting on her front steps nurturing the goose, changing its clothing and, while I'm not certain of this part, I'm guessing she's probably speaking kindly to the goose and whispering sweet nothings about how he's the best goose anybody could have standing guard over her front porch. As I walked past and saw the lady stripping the goose of its latest frilly, lace-saturated, pastel garb that could certainly humiliate even the proudest of geese, I had to look away for fear of accidentally making eye contact with the woman and being struck by that evil curse called politeness that would result in me feeling compelled to acknowledge the goose and perhaps even compliment him on his most recent attire.

The goose and his schnauzer army, comprised of Lieutenant Leap and Sergeant Spring, try their derndest to taunt my rather indifferent Beauregard as we make our daily laps around the block. I'd be interested to see just how valiant the threesome would be if I inadvertently lost the grip on Beau's leash and mistakenly tossed his new football in their direction. While he could not care any less about a stuffed goose and a pair of nincompoops bouncing behind glass, he does become rather possessive of his toys. I'm thinking he'd make quick work of the goose (leaving only white stuffing and pink ornamental fabric as evidence that a goose even once existed) and the hurdling twins would hightail it for the hills.

I find this interesting:
Term: Goose
Part of Speech: Noun
Definition: One deficient in judgment and good sense.
Synonyms: ass, idiot, imbecile, jackass, mooncalf, moron, ninny, nitwit, simple, simpleton, softhead, tomfool

just call me Farmer Weldon

Current mood: accomplished

Well folks, just call me Farmer Weldon!

That's right! My tomato plants (2 of them to be exact) that I am growing on my back porch in a large planter have sprouted tomatoes. In fact, they have sprouted so many tomatoes and are getting so heavy with the fruits that I had to stop by Ace today and pick up one of those metal plant holder thingies (yeah, I know all the technical terms) so that they would not lay over and kill my parsley, cilantro and chives!

I have 6 green ones, and today I picked my first red tomato... sliced it and served it with my dinner tonight. Fab! Not at all cardboard!

Now I'm fighting with myself not to pick the green ones. Everytime I look at them, my mouth waters for fried green tomatoes.

Check out my prize! And then send me a blue ribbon!