In Memoriam

I just want everyone to know that there will be no post today.  I was working on something this weekend about sex scandals, et al. but I will not be posting that, nor anything else this week.  I have no funny in me right now.

My mother in law passed away this past weekend after months of hospital stays, rehabs, testing, MRIs, medications and family prayers.  She finally let go of all the pain and struggles associated with this cold, dark world, and is at peace.  Although I am not religious and am not sure I even believe in God or Heaven, if they do exist, she is up there right now, because she was one of the kindest, sweetest, most decent people I have ever met.  I’m sure she would qualify for angel status immediately.  She was a second mother to me and will be missed deeply by all that knew her.

Her and my Father in Law have lived with my family for the past 10 years in their own basement apartment.  For years, I would send the boys downstairs to see their grandparents when I got home from work so that I could get dinner ready.  She was a doting grandparent, with a kind and giving heart.  She was always there when we needed her and was a loving presence in our home.  My kids loved her so much and are going to miss getting squeezes by grandma the most.  My heart aches for their loss as well.  

She leaves behind her husband, 5 children, with 5 sons/daughters in law, 1 brother & sister in law, 12 grandchildren and 6 great-grandchildren.  She will be greatly missed by all her family and everyone who knew her.  She was a really special lady, and I loved her so much. 

Rest in Peace, Pat.  We miss you, but know that it was your time and you are finally at peace. 

I will be out of commission this week with the arrangements and viewings/funeral and then thanksgiving, but will return next week with a post on monday, I hope.  I will also catch up with all your posts at that time as well.  Hope everyone has a happy holiday.

The Freebie List

What’s a freebie list you ask? Well, you only ask that if you are not married or in a serious relationship, because I can pretty much bet all of you out there with very significant others have at some point either created or talked about a Freebie List. I will leave it to my Friends to describe it:

Chandler: Well, we have a deal where we each get to pick five different celebrities that we can sleep with, and the other one can’t get mad.
Ross: Ah, the heart of every healthy relationship:  Honesty, respect, and sex with celebrities.
Monica: So, Chandler… who’s on your list?
Chandler: Uh, Kim Basinger, Cindy Crawford, Halle Berry, Yasmine Bleeth, and, ah, Jessica Rabbit.
Rachel: Now, you do realize that she’s a cartoon… and way out of your league?
Chandler: I know, I know, I just always wondered if I could get her eyes to pop out of her head.

So, there you go.  Five celebrities that if ever the chance were to arise, you would be allowed to sleep with without your spouse or boyfriend/girlfriend getting mad.  They get to make their own as well, so it’s all even.

Anyway, so even though I stated above that if you are married you have made or at least talked about the Freebie list, until just last night, the hubs and I had not created ours.  Well, I mean, not officially.  I could have pretty much named most of his, and he could probably at least guessed a few of mine, so it’s not like we haven’t talked about who we would do over the years.

Well, since we had not created ours yet, I tasked the hubs with a project.  This was the convo:

Me:  Hey, I’ve got a project for you.
Hubs:  (thinking, what chore do I have to do now?)  Oh, great.
Me:  No, this is a fun one.  I want you to create a Freebie list and then tell me who is on it.  You know what that is, right?
Hubs:  Yeah.
Me:  (just making sure) So, 5 celebrities, ok?
Hubs:  Ok.  Like 5 that I want to . . . (kids in hearing range) . . .

Me:  Do.  Yeah.
Hubs:  Ok, got it.

 

So later that evening, once the kids were all tucked in bed, I asked him who he had come up with.  He obviously had not given it any thought at all, but was pretty much able to come up with his list on the fly.  He had trouble with #5.  Here is his list in the order he gave it to me:

 

1.  Britney Spears

 

 

No hesitation on this one, and I would have guessed this right off the bat.  We have had multiple conversations about how it is a bit disturbing that he is this attracted to this dumb trashy blonde girl.  But he thinks she is super sexy.  I also assume that when he imagines her, the above Britney is the one he thinks about and not this one:

Yikes!

At least . . . I hope not.  That would open up a whole nother conversation as to his taste level and I’m not prepared to go there right now.  Let’s just assume the first Britney is the one he’s hot for and move on, ok?  Great.

2. Kelly Ripa

This one I get.  She’s kind of got that cute girl next door look to her.  The only thing is that recently, she is so damn skinny that it would be like having sex with a lamp post, and let’s just say that the hubs is not averse to curves.  But it’s his list, so whatever.

3. Alyssa Milano

This one I totally get.  She’s hot.  And I think it goes back many years as well.  Maybe even to her Who’s the Boss days.  And before you start thinking, ick, she was a teenager then . . . at that point, so was the hubs, so it’s all good.

4. Minka Kelly

(c) Yu Tsai from Esquire Magazine

This one is a no brainer.   Esquire magazine’s Sexiest Woman of the Year for 2010, dated Derek Jeter, sexy cheerleader, an Angel and hot as hell.  Basically, I’d do her.  Maybe she should be on my list?  Anyway, the hubs has thought she was super hot since Friday Night Lights, along with every other red blooded straight man in the world, so who can argue with this choice? 

Ok, now this is where he had some problems . . . at first he said Sarah Palin, but I vetoed that because it has to be a celebrity (not a fame whore), but really because if he ever slept with that dumb ho, list or not, I would divorce his ass faster than you can preciously say you betcha!  So, no to her.

Then he said Florence Leachman.  I love that even when he’s trying to be funny, he can’t even remember the name of the old broad he’s trying to joke about.  Unless he meant a manage a trois between Florence Henderson and Cloris Leachman.  Because, yeah, I can see that.  But finally, he settled on his fifth choice.  And I must say that it is a fine choice.  This one could definitely teach him a thing or 2 . . . .

5. Betty White

Her milkshake brings ALL the boys to the yard.

So, that is the hubs’ list.  I will bring you my list later in the week.  I have to go do some drooling, um, research to compile my official list.

Have you created a freebie list with your significant other?  What did they say their 5 would be?  (Save telling me about your own list for when I give you my list later this week . . . )

Ye Olde Show and Tell

Earlier in the week, I mentioned that Thoughtsy and I attended the MD Ren Fest this past weekend and whilst there enjoyed some entertainment.  The first show we saw was listed as ”Bloody Drama (Comedy)” in the program.  How could we possibly avoid something with that title, right?

It was basically a group of guys doing improv.  I would liken it to a Medieval Who’s Line Is It Anyway.  They took suggestions from the audience members for types of food and then did a bunch of “A ____ walks into a bar” jokes.  The food that was suggested was cheese.

Demonstrating the ooohhs & aahhhs to be made by the audience.

The guys then took turns thinking of “A cheese walks into a bar” jokes.  The only one I could remember was this one:

A cheese walks into a bar.  The bartender says, “We don’t serve cheese here . . . but, well, eh I don’t know . . . maybe . . .”  The cheese say, “Hey, don’t string us along!”  Ba-dum-bum.

That's Bob.

Then the audience suggested a non-food item for the jokes:  a mime.  There was only one joke . . .  but it was enough:

2 mimes walk into a bar . . . nobody cared.

They also did a routine where one of the guys had to guess what type of activities the other guys were acting out, once again based on audience suggestions.  One was playing baseball, with the ball being a fish and the bat being a coin.  I can’t remember the others.

They were funny.  I found myself laughing quite a bit, but then again I used to like that Who’s Line show back in the day, so I was probably their target audience.  Plus, I had just finished a glass of wine, so that might have helped with my comedy appreciation.

The next show we saw was actually suggested by our pirate friend, Chris.  They were new to the Ren Fest this year, but apparently perform regularly in Minnesota (I think?).  The were called The Danger Committee.  (cool name, right?).  The players consisted of Rodolfo, with a lovely German accent (German?  Thoughtsy, was he German?), Nick (bald guy) and Jay (other guy).  That is actually  how Rodolfo described his compatriots, stating “that is how they are going to remember you anyway.”  So true, Rodolfo.  So true.

But before the show began, a warning:

 

Then, there was juggling:

There was knife throwing:

Getting really close

Maybe this is how he gets such a clean cut?

There was comedy:

This while singing Iron Man . . . dun dun dun, dun dun da-dun

 There was . . . . sexiness?

His "sexy pose?"

And risking the future ability to procreate:

Good thing that pouch is there for protection, eh?

And more comedy:

He seriously could not get this off his head for like 5 minutes.

Then there was the final act.  You really have to trust your co-worker with his knife skills to be the person balancing on that thing whilst holding your arm out towards the knives.  Yikes!

Bringing it . . . again!

Well, after a couple days, I needed to go retrieve my watch from the clutches of my new sugar daddy and his minions of watch repairing elves.  When I walked into the shop, there was a different guy there and of course my heart was immediately crushed.  Might I not see the man of my dreams again?  So, even as heartbroken as I was, I did still need my watch, so I handed the man my ticket.  A couple minutes later, much to my delight, out comes my man.  He was smiling like he was a ten year old girl and I was his pony under the christmas tree.  In his hand was my newly repaired watch.  While I had been waiting for my watch to arrive, I had picked out a car charger for my phone as well, yet there was no price on it.  So when he emerged, I asked him how much.  “For you?  $10.”  A reasonable price, no doubt.  And obviously being discounted for my fabulousness, I’m sure.  There is no way that is the actual price.  Nope.  That is so the do-me discount.

The watch that started it all.

So, I give him my credit card to pay for my items.  After he takes it, he leans in close, and I mean really really close (be still my beating heart), looks right into my eyes and says, “you always look good.”  What a sweetie. 

Then off he went to ring up my purchases.  When he returned, still grinning like the love struck fool that he was, I signed my credit card slip and was about to make my way back to the office.  This is when he felt that he needed some type of contact.  Some touch before I retreated from his presence.  So he stuck out his hand for me to shake . . . and said, “I will see you” with a slightly upturned you on the end, almost like a question.  So, of course, having never experienced something so magical in all of my life, I gratefully accepted his outstretched hand, matched it with mine and responded, “um, yeah, I guess I’ll see you next time.  I need a battery.  Or something.”  I feel that spoke to our unspoken love.  He knew my true feelings and I knew his.  Words are not needed in these situations.  I will see him again.  If I need . . . something.  You know what I’m saying.

Oh, and then returning to the office, there was a gentleman in the elevator.  He was a tall dreadlocked man who was wearing his best sweatpants and rasta T-shirt.  Probably had a job interview.  He did hold the elevator door open for me, so he was an actual nice person.  And as I was exiting the elevator, 2 floors prior to his destination, he said to me, “your hair looks really nice.” 

Bringing it.  Like I said.

Want some styling tips?  Ways to woo the menfolk?  Dress in your sexiest business casual attire?  I’m here for ya.  I’m an expert, apparently.

Fried, fried and more fried

As you may know, I posted a couple weeks ago about going to my second fair of the year, and not getting any fried Oreos, which was just so sad.  Well, this past weekend I attended my third and final fair of the season, and I am here to report that that travesty has been rectified. 

My goal was to not only get some fried Oreos, but to try to experience any other fried delicacies that looked interesting, since I had heard so many good things about other bizarre concoctions dipped in batter and deep fried.

My first encounter with a fried option came in the guise of something I would never have thought would be fried.  And that would be this:

Mmmm, strawberries.

Now, this little stand had lots of fried delicacies.  Including some things I never would have thought could or would be fried:

Fried what now?

Yep, that says fried pickle.  I’m just not sure how that would taste.  I mean, I like pickles.  But battered and fried?  No thanks.  I think I will just try the strawberries.  Because, I have heard of fried Oreos, fried Twinkies and even fried Snickers, but I have never heard of fried strawberries, and that is just too intriguing to miss.  So I got them:

Yum

That were so delicious.  I had 2 of them and gave 1 each to my sons.  I even gave the hubs a bite of one of mine.  Reluctantly.  They basically tasted like funnel cake with strawberries on top.  They were so good and I am glad I decided to give them a try.

I was still determined that before I left the fair though, I would be getting my fried Oreo, just maybe at a different stand.  And I know what you’re thinking . . . didn’t she say that last time?  Didn’t that bite her in the butt?  Hasn’t she learned her lesson?  And to those questions I answer YES to all.  But this time, I was determined that if I didn’t find another stand that sold them, I would be hoofing it right back to this place, bedtimes be damned.

So, let me share a few other things I saw at this fair.  And before you get all excited, there are no pictures of any crazily dressed people in this entire post.  I know!  I couldn’t believe it either, but apparently the cosmos was taking it easy on the old eyes this day, so thanks for that.  There were a few strange things though, starting with this:

Huh?

Ok, so this makes me ask two questions . . . #1 – what is this thing?  and #2 – why would they need to put a sign up for people not to eat it?  Well, I still don’t know what the answer to #1 is, but I can only imagine the answer to #2 is that they put this sign up out of necessity because people were actually walking by and eating this thing off the counter?  Who does that?  Who eats mystery food that is just sitting out on a shelf next to a stand at the fair?  I don’t think I want to know those people, whoever they are.

Ok, so now we move onto the end of the night.  Whilst walking around and examining all the stalls and their offerings for dinner options, I came across another stand that sold lots of fried goodies.  So, while my kids were on their last “ride” (the bouncy castle) and in the care of the hubs, Mom ran over to this stand and got her fried on.  But once I got there, there were decisions to be made.  These were the offerings:

Decisions . . . decisions . . .

So, as I am standing there contemplating whether to get the Oreos or the Twinkie (pickle still not an option, what is up with that pickle?), the very perky and friendly chic working at the stand asks me what I want.  I tell her I am trying to decide.  She says “between the oreos and twinkies?” to which I reply YES.  So she says, somewhat jokingly, “well, just get ‘em both!”  And at that moment, I decided that this was a grand idea, so I told her that is exactly what I would do.  I was also impressed that these offerings were a lot cheaper than the first stand I saw them at earlier, so I felt like I was actually getting a deal as well (I later realized that they weren’t using real Oreos, but some type of Walmart “sandwich cookie” things, hence the cheap price).  I was very happy because I was finally getting not only my fried Oreos, but also the ever elusive fried Twinkie I had heard so much about.  I could not wait!

Mmmm, sweet battered goodness!

So, on the left we have the fried “oreos” and on the right is the fried Twinkie (possibly also a fake, but I don’t have confirmation of this, so let’s go with twinkie).  I tried the Oreo first.  It was quite yummy.  Battery and chocolaty and delicious.  I didn’t even mind that it was a fake, it was so good.  Then I tried the twinkie.  It was just this moist and gooey thing that just melted in my mouth.  It was also quite good.  I realized at that point that that last time I had a twinkie, I was probably about 12, so this was like a walk down memory lane as well.  Only this time, with more batter!

At this point though, I was quite full from all the fair goodies, and might have possibly been going into some sort of sugar/batter shock, but it was worth it to finally get these elusive treats.  Diets be damned!!

Well, thus concludes the tale of this fair maiden (geddit?) and her quest for delicious fried goodness at the local fairs.  Join us next year for a thrilling tale of possibly getting that fried pickle just to see what the hell?  Or . . . probably not.

Have you had anything weird and crazy and fried lately?  Please, do share your experience . . .

Where were you when the world stopped turning . . .

I really thought about not writing this. However, with the 10th anniversary of 9/11 upon us, and hearing everyone’s stories about where they were when it happened, I felt compelled to share my story.

It was 10 years ago. I was at work at my current job. I had just started the job about 2 months prior. A month earlier, I had gotten engaged (to my current husband). It was a Tuesday. I was not scheduled to be in Court that day, but instead was sitting in my office. I had a clock radio in my office, but I rarely turned it on because I got awful reception in my office. For whatever reason, that day I decided to have it on, but had it turned really low so it was merely background noise. After working for a bit, I realized that I wasn’t hearing any music coming from the radio, but was hearing what mainly sounded like talking. So I turned the sound up. That’s when I heard about the first plane. This was when people still thought it might just have been a tragic accident. Then the second plane hit. Everyone knew it was an attack at that point.

This is probably the point when I stopped breathing. You see, my fiance was in New York on that day. He had taken the train up there for a meeting. I wasn’t positive exactly where his meeting was, however, he had often commented to me that when he went up to NY, he would have meetings in the World Trade Center, and that the subway/train would actually go directly under the building and also had a stop right under there. It was very convenient for his meetings.

I tried to call him. I could not get through. I started to panic. I went down the hall to talk to one of my co-workers who I had only known for a brief time. I think I was crying. I explained that my fiance was in New York and that I couldn’t reach him on his phone. Oh, and that it was quite possible that he was in one of those buildings. Not knowing what to say to me, of course my co-workers tried to assure me that he was probably fine. That if he even was in the building, he was probably getting out of it right now (this was before the buildings collapsed). I kept trying to call. I kept getting no answer. I was starting to get a bit hysterical.

Then my colleague suggested that we take a walk down the street to an electronics store so that someone could get a portable TV, since we had no way to see what was happening (I think also partly to distract me from my constant calling and hysteria). We didn’t have readily available internet access in the office back then and everyone wanted to see what was going on. So we went to this store, and when we walked in, this was when we all first saw it. On a very large screen TV, the 2 towers . . . thick black smoke billowing from both. It was a sight that I will never forget as long as I live. It was horrifying and heart-wrenching and terrible. There really are no adequate words to describe that scene.

So, my colleague bought a TV and we returned to the office. When I got back to my office, the red message light was blinking on my office phone. I ran to my phone and hastily punched in my code to hear the message. And what I heard was the answer to my prayers. It was my fiance. He said this:

“Hi. I’m not sure if you know what’s going on, but there has been some sort of incident up here in New York. I’m ok, but I’m not sure when I’ll be home because they are closing all the roads and it was really hard for me to even make this call because all the circuits are jammed. I’ll give you a call later if I can and let you know what’s happening.”

I had never heard a more wonderful sound in my entire life. I was so overjoyed that he was ok. I called him immediately and somehow got through. He told me that his meeting was actually across town, but he was in a building that had a full view of the towers and he was watching them smoke at that moment. He had actually travelled right under the towers on his way to the meeting, but luckily he was early enough that he avoided the attack. God!  He was so lucky that day. We both were. I think of all those people who changed their plans that day or called in sick or missed their flights or had a meeting down the street, and I am so happy that my fiance was one of those lucky few. Of course, I am also heartbroken for those that went on with their daily routines and ended up part of this tragedy by either being in one of those buildings or on one of the planes (or the pentagon).

The rest of the day consisted of being glued to a television, either at the office, or at home, or over a friend’s house with all of her roommates (nobody really wanted to be alone that day), or when my friend and I went out to dinner that night. It was everywhere. It was the only thing. We were over-saturated by the enormity of the visions and stories and horror of the event.  But nobody could seem to pull themselves away from the horror unfolding before them.  Including me.

The best moment of that day was when my fiance finally came home. He somehow got what he believes was the last rental car in all of the city and found a circuitous way to drive out of there and get home. When I first saw him, I hugged him so hard I doubt he was able to breathe. I cried so much. I did not let go for a very very long time. I was just so relieved to have him back to me safe and unscathed. Well, physically anyway. I don’t think any of us really survived that event unscathed. But we were one of the lucky ones who survived it physically and still carry on.

My heart goes out to those who lost someone during the attacks, or subsequently from the after-effects.  I know that this day is probably one of the hardest they have had to deal with since the event, what with all the remembrances and media coverage of this 10 year anniversary of the event.  I just hope time has healed them somewhat, although I know they will never truly be whole again.  I just know how close I came to being one of those survivors of the tragedy of that day.  I know that I am very lucky to not be in their place.  I am grateful to have my husband and my family.  But I am so sorry for their losses. 

Where you you when the world stopped turning, on that September day?

My My Heart Like A Kick Drum

So I have a new favorite thing.  The kick drum. 

I was watching one of those VH1 unplugged things the other night with Mumford & Sons.  I sort of dug the music, but the most notable thing was that the singer was standing there singing, playing a guitar, and at the same time he was using one foot to constantly punctuate his musical phrasing with a kick drum.  It was completely awesome. 

(Plus the lead singer was sort of hawt, in a dirty British Brendan Fraser type way.  Ok, not the point, moving on . . .)

So I have decided that I need a kick drum for my own personal life.  You know, just to use on a daily basis.  I’m thinking that as I have conversations with people, if I am also punctuating my statements with a kick drum, it would make all of my statements that much more significant and dramatic.  Not sure how I would do it while walking around though.  I think it is solely a sitting and standing during conversations sort of instrument.  But how cool would that be?

Objection!  BOOM. (Sustained!)

Hey boss, I need a raise.  BOOM.  (He knows I really mean business)

Can I have a large caramel iced latte with skim milk, please?  BOOM.  (I REALLY need some caffeine, man)

Hon, can you pick up the kids from school?  BOOM.  (This is not an option)

Stop jumping on the couch and throwing balls in the house.  BOOM. (The sound of my anger and disappointment . . . don’t make me come over there)

I need a drink.  BOOM!  (yeah, I really mean that one)

Drive your fucking car, asshole!  BOOM (probably can’t hear my drum from his car.  Note to self:  get some type of enhancement device to project kick drum sound to all the fuckwit drivers) 

Can’t you see how this is an excellent idea?  It would take any random thing I say and turn it into an EXTREME EXCLAMATION.  I love it.  And I believe that, just maybe, people would begin to Respect Ma Authori-tye!

Anyone want to join my band?

Where’s my Sponsor???

So, this past weekend, my hubby and I actually went out with another couple to have some dinner, some drinks and generally a good time.  This is a rarity for us as we are mostly homebodies and pretty boring type peeps.  So a night out on the town was a big deal for us.

The night started just fine with some convos, catching up with some old friends during our drive to the place we were going.  (It was a horse track with a casino, but enough about our degenerate gambling addictions). 

Then we had dinner.  And my friend suggested that we order a bottle of wine, and asked me which kind did I like.  It just so happened we had the exact same taste in wine, so we were off!  (Santa Margarita Pinot Grigio in case you were wondering.  Yum!)

My GOD.

Let me note at this time, that I had eaten very little all day as it was a pretty busy day and I never really got the chance to sit down and eat.  It was mainly just little nibbles of my kids’ lunches and some coffee.  But I knew I would probably have a large dinner, so I didn’t worry about it.  Plus, I just wasn’t ever that hungry.

So we get our bottle of wine and start drinking.  And chatting.  And betting on horses, etc.  By the by, we have yet to begin eating anything at this point.  And all of a sudden, the bottle of wine is gone.  Just like that!  Well, should we order another?  Why of  course!!  What a silly question.

And that second bottle appeared like magic I tell you.  So at this point, I believe we actually had our entrees, which consisted, for me anyway, of a piece of salmon, and some very unappetizing sides.  (When the waiter asked if I was enjoying my meal, I told him the fish was great but I did not like the sides.  He told me to add some salt, and they would be great.  Seriously?  I actually tried it though.  It didn’t work, by the way.  They were still awful).  I ate all the salmon, but that was all. 

This makes EVERYTHING better. Thanks!!

On a side note, the waiter had a southern accent when he took our order, then later was talking to the table next to us in a Jersey accent, and I later overheard him talking to another server and he sounded like a completely normal person.  So I think he was a bit unhinged.  Or an aspiring actor?  But this was not L.A., where every waiter is an actor, and vice/versa.  This was Wes Bygawd Virginny (per Hooty Hoo), dammit!! 

Well, after some more drinking and betting on horses, and cheering on our favorites (mine stubbornly refused to win, bastards!  Oh, except for the one who threw off his jockey right out of the gate.  He won.  Of course.  Doesn’t count though.  He was 120 lbs. lighter . . . and jockey-less), it was getting late and we decided since we were done with dinner (and the wine), we would go down to the track and watch the last race, then go to the casino to do a little gambling.

So we all got up from the table and went outside to see the race.  Here is where I begin to have a problem.  You see, I had been sitting at this table all night, but once I became mobile, apparently the wine started circulating through my body.  And eventually it travelled all the way up from my stomach until it hit my brain.  Where it apparently shut that mother down!

I was absolutely fine (well, I thought so anyway) until we all decided we would go into the casino, and my hubby realized that I was slurring.  He also realized there might be a problem after he handed me tickets for the next race and I absent mindedly (read: drunkenly) tore them into itty bitty pieces.  When I told him this, in an “oops” kind of way, he was not pleased.  It was at this time that it was decided by the group as a whole that I needed a “guide.”  My friend then was designated as my guide, but I like to refer to her as my “sponsor.”  As in, I NEED A SPONSOR.  WHERE IS MY SPONSOR?  Which I kept yelling.  You know, as you do.  I thought it hysterical at the time.  The group?  Not as much.  Party poopers!

My hubby was also a bit disappointed in my light-weightedness, because I drink wine pretty much every night.  I mean, I train for this people!  This was sort of like my olympics.  But then I reminded him a) almost empty stomach, and b) an entire bottle of wine all by myself.  I don’t routinely drink a whole bottle every night!  Wait a minute.  THAT’S the problem . . . I just need a better training program!

There must be some type of Russian trainer out there that could whip my ass into shape within a few years.  Maybe the hubs could ship me off to some type of training camp for that sort of thing.  Just for a few months.  It would be hardcore training, really!  Not a free vacation, including massive amounts of alcohol.  I mean, who would enjoy that?  I’m sure I would miss my kids.  And husband.  At some point . . . . right?

Well, at least at this point, I think it will be in everyone’s best interest if I start consuming more alcohol on a regular basis.  I mean, I’m really doing it for the greater good, right? 

Yep, that’s how I’m playing it.  Anyone wanna send me a bottle of wine to help mankind?  Won’t you please think of the children?