So Wrong: A Guest Post for Renee

When I first received the email from Renee Schuls-Jacobson with a request to guest post on her site, I was surprised and truly flattered.  Last year, when that email was sent out to various other talented bloggers (and me), Renee and I had only “known” each other for a short amount of time.  However, when she told me she was doing a series of guests posts on her site, and wanted each of the chosen bloggers to write a story about a time when we were embarrassed, I knew I had this in the bag!

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That’s Renee. Isn’t she adorable?

With no shortage of material to choose from, I had to pick the perfect event.  And then I had the unenviable task of crafting it in such a way as to at least attempt to match the other brilliant authors who have penned their stories on her site all this year in her So Wrong series.  Well, maybe not match it.  More like, try not to embarrass myself.  I mean, at least not again.

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So I reached way back into my history of embarrassing moments to delve into the depths of teenaged cluelessness, and I found the perfect incident to relate to all of you.  I have submitted this highly embarrassing story to Renee to feature in her So Wrong series, so you will have to visit her site today to experience the mortification of my youthful transgressions.  Enjoy!

To Bra or Not to Bra . . .

A Hot Cup O’ Joe

Holy crap, you guys!  Y’all really want this mug, huh?  Which is spectacular, because I spent my hard earned duckets to get that thing for you.  I mean, this is by far the most expensive thing I’ve ever given away, and I was so worried that nobody would think it was as rad as I did.  And I know what you’re probably thinking right now, “most expensive?  A mug?  What the hell?”  Well, the hell is that it’s from Disney, and everything there is stupid expensive.  I think it’s the extra magic particles they put in all of their stuff.  Or the fact that they need to pay extra to the fairies on the production line.  Whatever the reason, this was no ordinary FIVE BELOW kinda mug, ya dig?  So, I am very pleased with the responses I got for it.  Ok, then.  Enough of all that.  Let’s get to it.

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Once again, my kids came into play.  Sorry for those of you who voted for certain people and/or comments (ahem Hippie ahem), but this also limits my ability to pick a favorite as well.  So it’s all fair-like, capisce?

This time, I enlisted the services of my eldest son, 7, to help me.  There were a larger than usual amount of people who entered, which meant lots and lots of little papers which needed folding.  (Yes, I do actually type up each name, print them out and then cut them into equal sized pieces, before folding them into little squares and putting them into a hat to be picked . . . what?).  So, because of the extra volume of papers, I told 7 I needed his help folding them all up.  And after folding up a few, he commented: “huh, this is kinda fun.”  I love my little dork. 

So, since 7 was on folding duty (and hat holding), I let 4 pick the name:

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And who, praytell, is the lucky new owner of this super mega ridiculously fabulous drinking vessel, you may ask?  Well, it’s none other than:

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AGIRLWHOGAMES

Woo-hoo!!  I am very excited for this win.  I think she may have needed a little special something more than anyone right now, being from Boston and having a very heart heavy week.  The fates (or 4) apparently knew she needed a little pick me up in the form of a mickey mug.  So, agirl, congrats on this super mega wonderfully rad win!!  I hope it will make you smile.

Go ahead and send over your deets and I’ll send this out to you.  mistyslaws at gmail dot com.

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And, because everyone was so keen to know the answer to my little riddle from the last post, about whose face was on the other foot (if you didn’t read this, go back, and that phrase will make much more sense) . . . the answer is:

MARILYN MONROE

A few of you guessed it, so good job.  You don’t get a prize or anything.  I mean, except for having the knowledge of 50′s era stars who died young and guessing the correct one, which is a prize in and of itself.  So . . . go you! 

The Magical Mickey Mug

Hey guys . . . anyone sick of hearing me talk about Disney?  Because since I’ve returned from my trip, I’ve talked about Disney here.  And then I also talked about it here.  And then, I even talked about it some more here.  Disneydisneydisneydisneydisneydisneydisneydisneydisneydisneydisney!!!

Well, if you are indeed completely and utterly over all discussion of that redundant D word, you may want to skip this post.  However, if you just stopped reading after that last paragraph, then you failed to realize that this isn’t any old post about ((whisper~disney~whisper)).  Oh no, this is a post-Disney supermegaspectaculargasmic . . .

GIVEAWAY!!!

That’s right.  While I was away with my family for a fun-filled, yet exhausting trip to the big D (and I don’t mean Dallas), I was thinking about all of you, my dear readers, sitting at work or at home, not getting to walk miles and miles and miles around 4 different parks.  And while I was scoping out which goodies to buy for myself and my friends, I also made sure to find something that I could give to one lucky reader.  And I did.  I found it.  I think it is super rad, and seriously almost kept it for myself.  But, as you know, I’m a giver.  So, I would never do such a thing!  That would just be wrong. 

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How freaking rad is that?  It looks like 2 mugs stacked together, but in reality, it’s just ONE!  Magic.  BAM.  Only the best for you, dear readers.  Only the best.

Ok, task time . . . this is where I tell you what small animals you must sacrifice special something you need to do in order to qualify to win this gen-U-wine Disney Perks Parks souvenir.

So, they say that Disney World is The Happiest Place on Earth.  Based on my experience there, I would say this is a highly idealized statement.  True, there is fun to be had at the numerous parks sprinkled about Orlando, but mostly it is exhausting and frustrating, if I’m going to be honest.  And not just for the parents.  The kids get worn out as well.  Every single one of us took naps each afternoon during the week we were in Disney.  It was necessary so that we didn’t end up murdering each other.  So, while I would say that the week we spent in Disney was enjoyable, if I were to be asked if it is the Happiest Place on Earth, I would have to say, at least for me personally, that it is not.

What is then, you might ask?  Well, for me, the happiest place on earth is my bathtub, filled with hot bubbly water, with me in it, relaxing with a good book and a glass of wine.  No hubs, no kids, no obligations or responsibilities.  Just soaking and relaxing, letting myself drift away into whatever fantasy world I am reading about.  For me?  That’s heaven.

So, in order to be entered into the giveaway drawing, I want you to tell me what your happiest place is.  Is it an amusement park?  A secluded island somewhere?  Your couch at home surrounded by your family?  It can be anywhere that you feel happiest.  Tell me all about it in the comments, and you will be entered to win that awesome mug up there.  I will have one of my kids pick a name at random.  And if you win, you can fill it with whatever beverage makes you happiest. 

Good luck to all.

You Know You’re Old When . . .

A few weeks ago, this post introduced all of you, my dear readers, to the wonder that is this book:

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My Middle-Aged Baby Book

And I asked everyone to comment on what was making them feel old, in order to qualify to win this book.  And oh boy, did you guys come through.  From aching backs, and various other body parts, to so very many grey hairs.  The grown-up children, and the “youngsters” who seem “like 12,” but are already shaving.  Hurting in the mornings after a night of too much fun, or receiving your Medicare card in the mail.

All examples given which are excellent indicators of feeling old age approaching.

But for one of you . . . your old ass gets a prize for revealing what made you feel all decrepit and elderly.  And I will let my son, 4, tell you who that winner is . . .

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THESINGLECELL

I’m especially happy about this one, because she said in her comment that if she won, she would be giving the book away as a gift to her friend turning 40, and would include it in a basket of booze.  Now THAT’S a girl after my own heart.

So congrats to you, singlecell, and congrats also to your soon to be 40 lucky friend, for having such an awesome person as you as a friend.

Hope she enjoys the book!  There’s no doubt she’ll enjoy the booze.

Send me all of your info, and I will send you this book as soon as possible.  mistyslaws at gmail dot com.

Another One Bites the Dust Cover

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I recently discovered that a local bookstore is being compelled to close its doors because it’s not getting enough business to stay open.  I have walked past this bookstore a bajillionty times, as it is directly across the street from my courthouse, but until last week, I had never once previously gone inside.  And I am deeply ashamed of this fact.  I am the reason that this store is closing.

And yes, while it is not only my fault, as my sole patronage probably would not have prevented the store’s going out of business, it is me and people like me that caused this to happen.  You see, I love books.  Even in the age of all things electronic, whether it be a Kindle, a Nook or an iPad, I still prefer reading actual books to any other mode of viewing literature.  I love the feel of a book, the smell of the pages, the heft of the bound papers in my hand. 

There is a local used book store near my home that I visit every couple of months, perusing their rows and rows of used novels, in the attempt to find an as yet undiscovered gem.  I will also take the books I have finished reading to this shop to trade them in for more books.  But my true transgression is this . . . I buy most of my books from Amazon.  So, you see, I am part of the problem which has developed in this generation of electronic ease and convenience.  Because, even though I still prefer my books the old-fashioned way, I will much more readily click online to order, rather than visit a local brick and mortar shop.  And this is why so many of these little shops are closing down. 

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So, in the spirit of too little, too late, I paid a much delayed visit to this closing book store.  It may or may not have had anything to do with the fact that every book in the store was $3.00 or less.  It was a lovely little store.  Much bigger and deeper than I had imagined from the outside.  On a table to the left of the entrance, there was a complete set of Encyclopedia Britannica books for sale.  Huge, dusty tomes that will probably sit there until they are packed up by the owner with the remainder of the undesirable and unsellable books.  What with Google and Wikipedia at the click of a mouse, who needs big, outdated books to tell you what you need to know?  However, it was quite the trip to nostalgiaville seeing that entire set sitting there, since I grew up with a complete set on a bookcase in my own childhood home.  It was where you would find me when research papers came due for grade school projects.

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And speaking of old school . . . there was a shelf labelled “Vintage” filled with numerous Hardy Boys mysteries and even some Bobbsey twins.  I did not see any Nancy Drew, as I imagine someone else probably snatched those up already.

In my search through this soon to be extinct shop, I was able to find a few books to purchase for myself.  But along with those, I discovered another rare gem . . . and this week’s giveaway!!

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When I saw this and started flipping through it in the store, it made me laugh.  I knew that I had to get it and give it to one lucky reader.  Preferably one that is of the appropriate age, per the book’s guidance (see that little print down in the lower left corner . . . go ahead, get your glasses . . . I’ll wait).

I am sure that you are curious as to what this book contains, as I was as well.  Well, feast your eyes on just a sampling of the valuable queries in this book, enabling you to transcribe your own info for future reference.  Basically, when you get too old to remember your name, you can have this handy mid-life guide!

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Very helpful, indeed!

Now, before you go denying that you want this handy little helper of a book, don’t think that I am calling you old.  No way, I would never do such a thing.  What’s calling you old is your grey hairs, saggy boobs and receding hairlines.  Take a gander in the mirror, my friends, before you start throwing the pitch forks around this way, k?  Sheesh!!

So, who wants it?  Anyone, anyone?  Hello?

Hmmm . . . I’ll be curious to see how this goes.  If you do indeed want it, this is what you shall do . . . comment on how you first realized you were old.  Was it a physical thing (grey hair, wrinkles, etc.)?  Was it a failing ability (poor sight, bad hearing, etc.)?  Was it some young punk kid calling you “ma’am?”  (Damn kids these days, grumble grumble).  Or was it something else?  Go ahead, fess up.  It’s happened to all of us!

And just to be fair, I will throw in another little treat as well, so it’s not just the book.  I haven’t decided what it will be yet, but it will be fun.  Probably not Metamucil.  I mean, unless that’s something you’re needing right now, because if so, I’ve got you covered!!

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This is your last reminder . . . if you haven’t already gone over to Noa’s Funny Bitch All-Star page to vote for yours truly (about halfway down the list) . . . what are you waiting for???  I would be ever so grateful if you were to do so.  This will be my last post for a while, as I am leaving for Disney with the fam oh so very early Saturday morning and will not return for a full week.  It would be just delightful to see that I made the All-Stars’ list prior to my departure.  PLEASE MAKE IT HAPPEN!!  Thanks, all!  See ya on the flip side.

Poppin’ Fresh

A few weeks ago, I mentioned that I had received a super rad birthday present from my friend Jules . . .

Remember this?

Remember this?

And upon perusing this amazingly fantastic book, I discovered a recipe that I felt I was compelled to try.  One bacon recipe out of the hundreds that called out to me as the first item that must be concocted from the plethora of deliciously tempting options.  But this siren recipe was not for me.  No, it summoned me to create this unique treat for none other than my friend Thoughtsy.

Fig & Bacon Pop Tarts!!

Fig & Bacon Pop Tarts!!

You see, I had plans to meet her for dinner this past week.  And although the date kept getting moved around and rescheduled, we somehow finally got our shit together enough to actually make it happen.  So, having discovered this recipe in the book earlier, and wanting to try to make it for Thoughtsy, I figured this would be the perfect time to try it out.  Not to mention that it looked super easy and only had four ingredients.  Score!!

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I will admit, though, that finding fig jam wasn’t the easiest task.  Luckily, my supermarket actually had some, but it was Fig preserves, so I was going über fancy.  The rest of the stuff was cake.  (Mmmm, cake).

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So, they kinda look like Pop Tarts, no?  I mean, sort of more like pastries, but what do you expect from 4 ingredients.  This is what they looked like inside:

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Well, I guess you are wondering how they tasted now, aren’t you?  Jeesh, you are so demanding!  Well, I will say this.  They weren’t bad.  They weren’t necessarily good, but not horrible.  I wouldn’t particularly say they tasted like Pop Tarts, though.  More of a savory fig tart.  Although, you can really taste the bacon (maybe because I used an approximate fuckton of it).

But, if you are a fan of both figs and bacon, you just might enjoy this.  The recipe is above, so if you are feeling it, go for it!

Oh, and if you want to know if Thoughtsy liked them . . .

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. . . well, she at least pretended to like them.  But even if she didn’t end up enjoying them, I also provided a back up that I know she loves.  You can’t go wrong with Red Velvet Pop Tarts.  And lest you think I escaped gifting, Thoughtsy brought a couple of things for me as well:

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We’ve come to discover that she always brings me some kind of flavored booze, and I always bring her some sort of Pop Tarts.  It’s our thing.  And it works for us, apparently.  We’re totally ok with that.

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Don’t forget to visit Noa’s League of Funny Bitches All-Stars page!!  Vote for me (and any other funny bitch you prefer).  I’m about halfway down the long list of super funny bitches.  Please, please, please, please, please???  I’ll make you Pop Tarts!!  (Just be careful what you wish for, there).

Mustache Winner!!

A couple of weeks ago, you might have noticed this little giveaway post.  It was buried underneath a couple pounds of bacon, so you might have been a wee bit distracted.  Perfectly natural.  Mmmmm ,bacon.  Oh, sorry . . . what were we talking about?  Oh yeah, that’s right.

In case you were too busy attempting to extract yourself from the bacon porn that was dominating that post, and somehow missed the giveaway part of it . . . these were the items being offered up for the chance to win:

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Luckily, some people were able to get past the deliciousness of that post, and actually contributed with a comment about something nice someone had done for them lately.  Those lucky participants’ names were placed in a hat, and a name was chosen by my son.  That chosen individual has won the above items.

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And the lucky winner is:

Sorry about the blur.  The boy would NOT stop moving his hands.

Sorry about the blur. The boy would NOT stop moving his hands.

FRESH GINGER!!!

Congrats, lady.  Just send me your deets at mistyslaws at gmail dot com, and I will send out these fab items to you pronto!!

For those of you who were not lucky enough to be the chosen one, blame my kid.  I had nothing to do with it.  Oh, and also . . . stay tuned for another giveaway soon.  I’m contemplating what to feature, although I just might wait until Disney to see what kind of fab items they might have for me to give to a lucky participant.  Decisions, decisions.  Hmmmm . . .

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Wait!!  Don’t go . . . even though you might not have won any prizes, how about you do something for me??  I’m up for nomination as one of Oh Noa‘s Funny Bitch All-Stars.  I would really appreciate it if you would take a minute to visit and vote for me (and a bunch of other truly funny bitches as well, of course).  I mean really, I don’t ask for much, people.  Just your undying love and affection for all time and eternity!  Is that too much to ask?  Hello?  Where are you going . . . ?

Haaaaaaaave ya met VAL?

My friend Val, who blogs over here at Valerie Nunez and the Flying Platypi, is completely and totally rad.  She also lives in New Jersey, which is where I found myself a few weeks ago for a birthday trip fiesta.  We had planned on meeting at my hotel, since I was gonna be in her neck of the woods and we had been trying to get our awesome selves into the same place at the same time for months.  At first, she was planning a President’s Day weekend down to the B-more area, but alas, that fell through.  But then, when I realized I was gonna be in Joy-zee at the end of February, I asked if she wanted to try to meet there, and a plan was born.

On the drive up to Atlantic City, I texted her to confirm that we were still on.*  What follows is the epic conversation that ensued as I was on my journey to her home state:

VAL:  Can’t wait!!!  I hope you have a glorious bday weekend!!
ME:  Yay!!  I am so fucking excited for this weekend.  I’m gonna sleep SO HARD.  That’s right, I party like a rock star.
VAL:  I was literally just fantasizing about Sleep.  Sleep is the sexiest thing.  Perhaps ever.
ME:  I want to have Sleep’s babies.
VAL:  I love when I wake up with Sleep in the corner of my eyes.  Cuz I know it was a good night.  ;)
ME:  I’m just glad Sleep is man enough for us to share without any jealousy.
VAL:  Yeah.  But . . . now that I think about it . . . Sleep is kind of a whore.
ME:  Total whore.  He really gets around.  And sometimes, when I’m craving him in my bed, he is nowhere to be found.  Probably shacked up with the neighbor.  Bitch.
VAL:  Right?!?  Here I am . . . all ready, willing and able . . .  and he’s off with my dog.
ME:  And then sometimes, sometimes he shows up wanting to hang when I just can’t do it.  Like at work.  INAPPROPRIATE Sleep!!
VAL:  That happened to me today!!  I’m no booty call, Sleep!  I’m a LADY!!!
ME:  Or like when I’m in the car.  I ain’t no car ho!  At least . . . not anymore . . .
VAL:  Exactly!  I’m done with conceiving kids in cars . . .  I’m not in my 20′s anymore.
ME:  Right?  I need a warm bed or hell even a couch, before I feel comfortable being with him.  I’m old.  Not like the college days where I would experiment and do him in the basement of the frat house!
VAL:  Sleep just thinks we will never age.  Well, I did age, Sleep!!  And now my neck gets a kink in it and I can’t turn my head to the right for days!!  So, be respectful and give me a fluffy pillow!!
ME:  I know.  I’m too damn old to do it on the floor anymore!
VAL:  I could totally pull a hammy!!  Gotta stretch it out first!
ME:  None of that legs above my head shit, either.  Damn.
VAL:  Seriously, I’m not a gymnast, Sleep!  Keep it real!
ME:  What really pisses me off is when he visits my husband and refuses to come over on my side of the bed.  I’m open for stuff, Sleep.  You can do us both at the same time!
VAL:  Sleep is such a prude whore!!!
ME:  Tru dat.

Unfortunately, my dreams of a restful, sleep-filled weekend were not to be, as I couldn’t seem to get comfortable in the hotel bed and tossed and turned throughout my restless nights there.  Which is completely adverse to my normal sleep like the dead even if a helicopter lands in your backyard mode of zonking out (yep, totally happened).  I think Sleep heard me talking smack about him and decided he was going to teach me a lesson.  Well played, Sleep.  Well played, indeed.

* Sadly, Val found out the day before our meeting that her beloved dog had a tumor in his leg, so she had to cancel.  I was very disappointed, but obviously understood that she needed to be with her family and handle this unfortunate situation.   
 
Of course, that means we STILL haven’t met yet.  It’s like the universe is fearful of all of our awesomeness being combined in the same atmosphere and that it’s magnitude will cause a shift in the space/time continuum or something.  Pfft.  I’m willing to take that chance.  It will be totally worth it.  Bring it!
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What is YOUR favorite thing about Sleep?

***** Don’t forget to throw your hat in for this awesome giveaway!!  Not many people have entered, so either nobody loves me (most probably), or nobody wants the free stuff I’m trying to give out (who doesn’t love free stuff?).  Don’t make me take my toys and go home, people.  Show the love!!

Mustaches and Bacon Make Everything Better!

I’m a giver.  I love sending random cards, gifts and other items to people who I feel might need a little something to brighten their day.  Whether it’s for a birthday, a get well gesture or just an “I’m thinking of you” gift, I just love the feeling of making someone smile because of something I sent to them.  And all except for Jen (stupid Portland P.O.), everyone I send presents to, actually get them.

So, that leads me to the point of this post.  It’s time for another . . .

GIVEAWAY!!

But we’ll get to that in a bit, so bear with me.  First . . . a story.

The other night, I came home from work and found my husband in the kitchen, busy fixing dinner for the boys.  He had gotten a bug up his butt to prepare a meatloaf for them, searched online for a good recipe, and then started whipping up a jam.  When I walked in the door, he was elbow deep in ground beef and eggs.  I then saw that he had even concocted a homemade batch of tomato pepper relish that was to go in and on the meatloaf.  I left him in the morning, a sleeping bear in the bed, and came home to Emeril Lagasse, apparently.  Not that I mind.  I mean as far as the cooking goes . . . I’m not exactly hot for Emeril or anything.  Don’t get it twisted.

Homemade pepper relish.  Yum!

Homemade tomato pepper relish. Yum!

Oh, and did I mention that after the meatloaf was put it the pan, shaped, and topped with relish, it was then topped with . . . wait for it . . . BACON.

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Of course, I asked if there was something I could do to help, and he directed me to the fresh brussels sprouts sitting on the counter, saying he was going to try to whip up a side dish of brussels sprouts with bacon.  When I asked if he had a recipe, he told me he had planned on just “winging it.”  Uh-oh.  So, I offered to handle it, not that I had ever made anything like that before, either.  But off to Google I went!  And found a perfect recipe for the ingredients on hand.

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Everything turned out incredible.  But I will advise you, as to the brussels sprouts, if you make this, you may be tempted to not use much salt, thinking the bacon will take care of the salt quotient, but if you think that as I did, you would be very very wrong.  Salt.  Use salt.  It needs it.

Here are the finished products:

Click picture for recipe.

Click picture for recipe.

Click picture for recipe.

Click picture for recipe.

And I will tell you that both of my boys gave the meatloaf high marks, and my youngest gave the brussels sprouts two thumbs up.  Not only that, but they actually requested the meatloaf again the next night.  I think one of the ingredients in there might be magic.  True story.

Ok, now that you’ve got your bacon fix for the day, even if only tangentially through the pics, it is now time for the promised giveaway.  I saw these items at The House of Blues gift shop in the casino, and just knew that I had to get them . . . for you!

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Awesome, yes?  You want it, right?  Worth playing for?  (Ok, I might be channeling Jeff Probst right now, sorry).  Ok, here’s your objective, should you choose to accept it . . .

Tell me a story.  A story about something unexpected that someone did for you.  Did your husband surprise you by whipping up dinner?  Did someone send you a surprising pick me up?  Something nice and not requested or expected.  Tell me all about it in the comments . . .

I’ll have one of my boys pick a name next week.  Good luck to all.  And let me know if you try the recipes and how they turn out.  They are 4 & 7 approved!

Birthday Extravaganza

So, I’m not sure if you know this, but Wednesday was my birthday.  I don’t know how you would have realized that, since I hardly even mentioned it at all on any format, including my own blog, other people’s blogs or even on Facebook.  I mean, really.  It was practically a secret.

As with all of my birthdays, I was a bit trepidatious as to how the day would go.  Would there be slapping?  Would there be forgetfulness?  Would there be tragedy?  None of these are unprecedented events for that most holy of days . . . the day of my birth.

The day started for me before sunrise.  A most unwelcome turn of events, but not at all unexpected.  However, the reality was much harsher than the theory of “having to go to work on my birthday.”  When the alarm sounded, there commenced numerous slaps of the snooze button before the battle going on in my head between GOOD (Get UP!  You have to go to work!) and BAD (It’s my birthday!  I want to sleep . . . and this bed is so warm and cozy!) was concluded decisively by my full bladder.  So, once I was out of bed and pee-free, I figured since I was vertical, I might as well get on with it and get ready for work.  Screw you, bladder.  You vile betrayer!

Once I was marginally functional (showered, spackled, dressed) I proceeded downstairs to greet the onslaught of family members (sans my travelling hubby) for birthday wishes.  I was greeted by this:

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Hand-made banners.  Yes, that’s plural, there were three (third one not pictured in my super messy kitchen).  To add to that, my boys also assaulted me with hand-made cards:

Sticker card curtesy of 4.

Sticker card courtesy of 4.

Card by 7.

Card by 7.

Please note that I am “the best mom ever xoxoxo best mom.”  He says it twice, in two different colors, so it must be accurate.  Everyone else can just put their batons down now.  Sorry.

After the cards and hugs were all given out, it was time for me to go to work.  Horribly-made coffee in hand (I mentioned the hubs being out of town, yes?), I was off to see what this day of days had in store for yours truly.

Apparently, the immediate answer to that was . . . traffic.  Lots and lots of traffic.  Oh joy.  Wait, why am I not still in bed?  Oh yeah, work.  Goodie.

Finally arriving at work, I discovered a few things in my office.  First, a gift from my secretary (Costa Rican coffee and a brownie).  I believe I have extolled her amazing qualities previously ad nauseum, so I will refrain from rehashing, but she is seriously the best.  Then when I booted up my computer, there was an unexpected birthday wish:

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Aww, Google.  How sweet of you to remember!  I mean, I don’t even know how you knew it was my birthday, but it was a lovely surprise upon opening up Explorer on my computer.  A little Big Brotherish, but I’ll take birthday greetings where I can get them.

And then I happened to notice something a bit odd on my desk.  A manila file folder with a sticky note on top directing one of my colleagues to “sign and then give to Misty.”  When I opened the file folder to see what was inside, I realized that although the signer had in fact followed the note writer’s directions explicitly, she did not exactly follow along with the intent in which the note was meant.

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Not quite what was intended, methinks.

Another interesting thing during that day was that not one person at my office wished me a happy birthday.  Now, don’t get me wrong . . . I received tons of birthday wishes on both my personal Facebook account and my blog Facebook account, along with many texts from friends (including a couple of colleagues not at work that day).  So, I’m not trying to be all “woe is me, nobody remembered.”  And I mean seriously, how can you forget when Mark Zuckerberg so helpfully assists you with a reminder right there on your FB page?  But during the entire day of being in the office, not one actual person told me “Happy Birthday.”  I found it odd.  Especially since most of them had just signed a card for me, so it’s not like it was a big secret.

Once I was finally released from captivity work, (and when I say “released,” I mean I ran out of there an hour early . . . it’s mah birfday!!), I headed home to what I expected to be a low key evening of celebration.  I expected carry out for dinner (sushi) and a pie for dessert, per my request.  I also assumed there would be presents.  It’s how my family rolls.

I was greeted upon my arrival with both balloons and yelling by my children that I was home too early and that they were still working on a surprise!  Fine by me.  I took myself up to my room, changed out of my work clothes, and vegged in front of the TV for about an hour.  Ahhh, now this is my kind of birthday!

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Tinkerbell and Ariel . . . because I’m a GIRL.

Once my family deemed themselves prepared for the evening’s revelry, I was allowed to descend into the pits of despair den of iniquity celabratory spaces of my home.  This was also when I discovered that not only would I be receiving presents from my family, but TWO of my blogging friends had sent packages my way, which had arrived appropriately and timely on my special day.  The first was from Rachel, of bloggy brunch fame, who ordered a book for me that we had discussed this past Saturday.  It is her favorite book, and when she discovered I had not yet read it, she decided to right that wrong by sending the book to me.  What an amazingly sweet gesture.  Thanks so much, Rache!!

The next surprise was a gift from my bloggy buddy, Jules.  She and I share an unholy love for all things bacon.  She translated this bond that we have into a gift of a book celebrating this unholy love.

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I am SO making these for Thoughtsy.

I am SO making these for Thoughtsy.

When I unwrapped this gift, I laughed so hard.  My family wanted to know what was wrong with me what was so funny, and all I could do was hold up the book.  Seriously, though, this is one of the best things I have ever received.  Jules, it’s like you just know me or something.  Thank you so much for your gift, your hilarity, and your friendship.  They all mean the world to me!

Ok, on to the gifts from my family.  First . . . another book.  Truly, a perfect companion to the one above.

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It’s like he KNOWS me or something.

And now we have . . . joke giftapalooza:

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Please note that all of the above were handed to me, lovingly, by my small boys, and I unknowingly started opening them in front of said children without nary a warning from the hubs.  Bad form, hubs.  You stay classy, San Diego.

My oldest son then gave me a special gift which he assured me he had not only picked out himself, but also helped pay for.  It is some serious bling bling, y’all.

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The finest CZ allowed by law.

On to cake!  Well, cakes and pie.  When the hubs asked me earlier in the week what kind of cake I wanted, I threw him a curveball by saying, “I don’t want cake at all.  I want pie.  Key Lime Pie to be exact.”  But since no one has ever heard of a birthday pie, the hubs decided to get something for everyone.

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That’s right . . . two different cakes AND a key lime pie.  Booyah!!  Plus, the hubs tried to burn the house down . . .

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Anytime we seriously consider getting the fire department involved in our celebration is a good time, no doubt. 

And thus ends my thrilling tale of a birthday celebration that will go down in the history books as, “at least nobody died” and “could have been much worse.”  For my birthday . . . I call that a win!  So now, I am in Atlantic City, hopefully resting and relaxing, sans my lovely and adorable spawn.  What better way could there be to end a birthday week?  Except for that jackpot I’m hoping to win . . . none, I say!

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