Friday, March 30, 2007

The Queen of Coincidences enjoys a Luxury Box at the Garden

Wednesday night, my coworkers and I jumped into a van to go to the Celtics Game at the TD Banknorth Garden. We stopped briefly at the liquor store to get some supplies for our journey in the van. Don't ask me why but we thought it would be a good idea. We arrived about 45 minutes before the game started so we could settle into our LUXURY BOX, which was fully equipped with two flat screen TVs, fridges, TONS OF FOOD, a computer with the internet, a bathroom, and a telephone with buttons specifying "Food & Beverage", "Concierge", and other randomness. It was awesome. I am uncertain that I can watch a game by any other means now, well maybe court side.... this could be an issue but I'll just say it was spectacular for the one night.

So you're wondering how the "Queen of Coincidences" came to be in the title of this post? Let me back track for a moment. Let's rewind to Wednesday afternoon before getting on the van. I was eagerly awaiting the events of the evening when I received an email from my most favorite friend. The opening line read:

"I just want to warn you about the game. It turns out Mr. Big Socks and his crew are going to the game tonight." Following this sentence was a list of boys from this very strange group of young men who were going. The list included none other than the infamous Mr. Houdini . I was immediately annoyed and for many good reasons. Seriously, what are chances he would end up at the game the same night I was sitting in a luxury box? I haven't been to a Celtics game since high school. Things like this happen to me ALL THE TIME!!! As a result of these very random occurrences, I was given the crown for the "Queen of Coincidences." I fear I will not be able to get rid of it any time soon...

Back to the game. Our view was excellent:









The crew of people who went with me was more than entertaining and super awesome. Rumor has it there is a video of us trying to get on the big screen during one of the overtimes. There is also an email circulating the office with the subject of "incriminating photos" which scares me a little bit. Some how I managed to stay out of intentional and unintentional trouble ~ a down right miracle if you ask me.

The highlight of the evening was when we ran out of decent beer. My lovely coworker, Tina, and I were standing at the nearly empty fridge when we decided to call down for more beverages. I picked up the phone and pushed a button. The man who answered said he'd be glad to help and that he'd send someone right up. Talk about service. Less than a minute later, the waiter came into our box to take our order. I told him we needed more beer. He looked at me and very sternly said, "Not for you." He gave me the once over and then added very seriously, "You look like you're about 15." I was shocked. Tina busted out laughing. It was embarrassing. I might need to reconsider the pigtails, and I never will cut all my hair off again. We ended up "borrowing" beer from the next box over. Turns out, if they leave the door to their box open, you're entitled to raid their fridge. I do not really spend a lot of time in these boxes so I'm not certain of the proper etiquette so I'm not sure I trust the waiter on this one either. Luckily, we did end up with a replenished stock. I swear it was the waiter and not me.

After the third period and probably too many beers, I took a break from the high life to venture to no man's land to say hello to Mr. Houdini. It was highly comical. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe he just doesn't get it. Our brief three minutes conversation ended with him saying the ever so famous line of "I'll call you." Oh please, like I'm going to answer. Shameless. Let's just chalk that one up in the "Loss" column and move on, shall we? (Besides, I'm pretty sure a phone call isn't going to cut it buddy.)

Jean locked me out of the luxury box for leaving. She finally let me back in just in time to watch the remaining two minutes of the game. The Celts tied it up to put the game in over-time TWICE. We all cheered, danced, and enjoyed the fantastic game. The Celtics defeated the Magic to make for a perfect evening. It truly was probably one of the most exciting NBA games I've seen, but then again, my ambiance might have had an affect.

I'd like to thank Laurie for letting me borrow Mikie. I'd like to thank Mikie for putting up with me and my coworkers (we were allowed to bring friends). I would also like to thank the marvelous people at TD Banknorth for sharing their box with us.




Turns out, I can consume large quantities of alcohol and behave myself, I should never wear that outfit again, I might need to reconsider the pig tails, and I might need to invest in a luxury box sometime in the future. What a blast! (more pictures here. )

A Weekend of Inspiration

Recently, I read the book, "Nice Girls Don't Get Rich," which was written by a psychologist with some financial sense. I already understood the financial information she put forward, however, the psychological aspects of money and women were fairly new to me and somewhat interesting. I would not categorize myself with the majority of Americans, male or female, when it comes finances. This is a result of my education, upbringing, and Mr. Kiyosaki's influence (introduced by my mom.) I do not mess around when it comes to my Hugs and Kisses jar. However, the author made a very important point in the book that pertains to all facets of life outside of money. She could not express enough how we must envision the life we want and not the one we have. In order to achieve success, however defined, we have to see ourselves doing it. Sometimes we forget how important visualizing the goals we have and the life we want to live is to actually achieving them. So in an effort to motivate, inspire, and visualize our life list, BigStar and I spent the past weekend creating a wall of visions for our lives. I bought a 37 foot roll of paper and mounted a nice stripe in our kitchen. We attacked the travel magazines and quotations dictionary with a vengeance to produce a work in progress:



smack in the middle of our kitchen. While Allie colored pirates, we glued, taped, and drew images on our wall. I've always had a wall of something whether it be words, postcards, or artwork, however, I've never really had a 20 foot stripe before. I have to admit, I really do love it.



I'm sure most of you might think this is ridiculous, in which case I invite you to make a poster then. Hang it where you'll see it everyday. Make sure it has only things you like on it. Pictures, words, anything. I can't tell you how amazing it is to walk into a room only to find how you imagine your life right in front of you. The glowing, shiny, and colorful sight makes me smile and giggle every time I stroll into the kitchen. It's there, it's real, and it will happen. Each and every picture, list, quotation, drawing, you name it, will happen. We are now living the lives we want. Well, I guess you kind of have to with a reminder like this:



And yes, our wall does come with rocking chairs and tractors. I'd be happy to lend you my crayolas and to make you pancakes if you want to come by and start your own artwork. It's a Saturday night well spent.

"Live the Life You've Imagined." henry david thoreau

It's not "I can't" but "How can I?"

I also made a few signs as a friendly reminder to the emotional eater in the house:


right on the door of the pantry and


next to the refrigerator door handle. There's never a dull moment on the marsh.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Quotation of the Day...

From Budget Travel:

"Why wait? When it comes to packing, take half the clothes and twice the money; and when in doubt, leave it out. But the best piece of advice I can give isn't about packing. Since I was 23 years old, I've taken a "once in a lifetime" trip every year with my wife. Over 14 years, we've visited five continents and amassed priceless memories. We believe everyone should take a "once in a lifetime" trip every year as, unfortunately, you never can tell how many years comprise a lifetime. My daughter recently lost a friend who was only 18 years old in a car accident. Don't procrastinate." ~ James Pierce, Cocoa FL (from Budget Travel March 2007)

Ummm, Yes..


My boss just came to my desk to ask me if I wanted to go to the Celtics game tomorrow night. Apparently, one of the banks with whom we do business has a LUXURY BOX they want to share with us. WOOHOO! You do not have to ask me twice or twist my arm! YAY! I can't wait to go.

Saturday, March 24, 2007

Oh, Oh, Mexico..



Ladies and Gentlemen, I've booked a room at the Hilton Cancun in Mexico for June 5 to June 10. The total cost of the room for the total five days is $476 including taxes. Right now, three of us are going. The more the merrier. Please let me know if you are interested in joining us. I can't wait to sit on the beach...

(oh and it's less than $150 a person for the room).

Friday, March 23, 2007

Sexy TV Scenes

Ummm, Did anyone see this episode of the TV show "Brothers and Sisters"? I want to know where to sign up? All these hot boys... Is it just me or is TV getting a little racy?

(He's playing a 'guess the word' game by licking her back.)

Speaking of Children

I'd like to take this opportunity to show off my friends' children. I love being an "aunt".


"Alé the Gardener" (courtesy of Kate and David)



"Brothers Ruiz"


"The Muchachos"

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

While I Do Not Support the War, I Do Support the Brave Souls Defending Our Country

This is from an email I received today. I felt everyone should read it:

"Will you give this to my Daddy?

As a Company, Southwest Airlines is going to support "Red Fridays."

Last week I was in Atlanta, Georgia attending a conference. While I was
in the airport, returning home, I heard several people behind me beginning
to clap and cheer. I immediately turned around and witnessed one of the
greatest acts of patriotism I have ever seen.

Moving through the terminal was a group of soldiers in their camo's, as they
began heading to their gate everyone (well almost everyone) was abruptly
to their feet with their hands waving and cheering. When I saw the
soldiers, probably 30-40 of them, being applauded and cheered for it hit
me. I'm not alone. I'm not the only red blooded American who still loves
this country and supports our troops and their families.

Of course I immediately stopped and began clapping for these young unsung
heroes who are putting their lives on the line everyday for us so we can
go to school, work and home without fear or reprisal. Just when I thought
I could not be more proud of my country or of our service men and women a
young girl, not more than 6 or 7 years old, ran up to one of the male
soldiers. He knelt down and said "hi," the little girl then she asked
him if he would give something to her daddy for her. The young soldier,
he didn't look any older than maybe 22 himself, said he would try and what
did she want to give to her daddy. Then suddenly the little girl grabbed
the neck of this soldier, gave him the biggest hug she could muster and
kissed him on the cheek.

The mother of the little girl, who said her daughter's name was Courtney,
told the young soldier her husband was a Marine and had been in Iraq
for 11 months now. As the mom was explaining how much Courtney, missed her father, the young soldier began to tear up. When this temporarily single mom was done explaining her situation, all of the soldiers huddled together for a brief second. Then one of the other
servicemen pulled out a military looking walkie-talkie. They started
playing with the device and talking back and forth on it. After about
10-15 seconds of this, the young soldier walked back over to
Courtney, bent down and said this to her, "I spoke to your daddy and he
told me to give this to you." He then hugged this little girl that he had
just met and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He finished by saying "your
daddy told me to tell you that he loves you more than anything and he is
coming home very soon."

The mom was crying almost uncontrollably while the young
soldier stood to his feet and saluted Courtney and her mom. I was
standing no more than 6 feet away from this entire event as it unfolded. When the
soldiers began heading towards their gate, people resumed their
applause. As I stood there applauding and looked around, their were very
few dry eyes, including my own. That young soldier, in one last act of
selflessness, turned around and blew a kiss to Courtney with a tear rolling
down his cheek.

Everyday we need to remember all of our soldiers and their families and
thank God for them and their sacrifices. At the end of the day, it's
good to be an American.

RED FRIDAYS ----- Very soon, you will see a great many people wearing Red
every Friday. Many Americans, like you, me and all our friends, simply want to recognize that the vast majority of America supports our troops.

Our idea of showing solidarity and support for our troops with dignity
and respect starts this Friday and continues each and every Friday until
the troops all come home. Let's make the United States
on every Friday a sea of red much like a homecoming football game in the
bleachers.

The first thing a soldier says when asked "What can we do to make things
better for you?" is...We need your support and your prayers.

Let's get the word out and lead with class and dignity, by example; and
wear something red every Friday."

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

My Weekend: Baby Shower, Basketball, More Basketball and Booze

Friday night, it was snowing like mad here, which undoubtedly put a damper on my plans and highlighted my inability to be prepared for anything despite my desperate attempts to over correct for the primary basis of my existence being a result of unpreparedness, which always seems to come back and haunt me. If you got that then good, I'll ask you to explain it to me later. Anyway, I went to karate as usual and planned to go to the grocery store then to Amanda's to watch the god awful Villanova game. Instead of being smart, prepared, and aware, I went straight home to shower. I headed out to get food an hour later only to almost die two miles from my house. I immediately turned around and cursed my earlier comment to Big Star about missing winter. It would be awesome if our kitchen was well stocked and ready to go for someone who is always volunteering to bake a cake for something. You'd think I would get a clue, but no. I spent a good portion of the game standing in my living room at the ironing board mixing cake while watching the game and cursing the announcers. Since Erin and I do not keep frosting or cake in our cupboards (for good reason), I had to bake a cake from scratch and then make the frosting. I was hoping to get around this due to the intricate design of the cake I planned to prepare for Krista's baby shower. I finally finished baking and cooling the damn thing around 1 a.m. Then I continued to torture myself by playing snood for an hour knowing I had to get up at 8 to make the freaking frosting. Go figure.

I woke up to find a blanket of snow covering the drive way, which took me 1.5 hours to shovel because the plow man had forgotten to come dig us out. I had an hour to frost the cake and get it to the party. I gingerly opened the cupboard only to discover we had no powdered sugar. Of course not, why would we? I threw all my stuff into the car and struggled vehemently to get up over the hill at the end of our road until I was finally on a nicely cleared main road. I made it to Krista's with a half hour to spare before the party started. Luckily, I was armed with lots of Betty Crocker frosting courtesy of the local grocery store. I began frosting my creation only to realize a quarter of the way into my task that I did not have enough. The good man Tim came to the rescue by running out to get more. Meanwhile I spent the remainder of the party frosting the cake. I partook in about a half hour worth of events, which was fine by me, as I was the only single girl there and one of the few non-moms. I have to admit the cake came out exceptionally well for the amount of drama surrounding it's preliminary stages. I was quite proud and as soon as Tim emails me the pictures, I'll share my culinary prowess with everyone. YAY, chocolate cake that I could not bring myself to eat because we'd spent far too much time together. Although, I did bring myself to cheat on it with three of the delicious red raspberry and chicken mini pitas Meg and Tim made. (SOO GOOD!!)

The shower was enlightening. I thoroughly enjoyed the brief time I spent with Meg (I MISS YOU) and Krista. It's always wonderful to see them. It was also a pleasure to meet some new people and as usual, it was good to see Tim, Danny, and Isak. However, I felt a little out of place amongst the woman whose lives were NOTHING like mine. Not that it's wrong or bad or anything like that, it's just that I was not in the same place, figuratively. I do not have a male counterpart and probably won't any time soon (Not to mention the thought of someone actually wanting to spend the rest of his life with me makes me laugh hysterically because it sounds so ridiculous). I also do not have children. I've spent my life around other people's children, and as a result of this, sometimes I worry that I don't want any myself. I love them, I really do, I mean look at me and the muchachos: I spend my evenings coloring stars with glitter and having occasional sword fights as Will Turner, but at the baby shower, I could not help but realize I had this uncomfortable and somewhat alarming feeling that maybe I do not want to have my own children. God, it would be my luck that I have two sets of male twins. Watching all these women and toddlers gave me anxiety. I took great solace in the fact that I was leaving the party to go to Amanda's to eat, drink, and be merry watching basketball and more movies than I've watched all year sans responsibility to anyone or for anyone. Do I want to be a mother was the question I kept thinking while listening to all the "ooohs" and "aaaahs" while Krista opened her gifts. I finally settled on the fact that I did not have to answer this question at the moment and might not ever have to. Plus, there are plenty of lovely little ones around to entertain me in the meantime (like Isak with his awesome counter dancing).

After the party, I headed straight to Whit's and settled in nicely next to the fire to watch the games. I'm not sure at what point it happened but before I knew it, we'd consumed two bottles of wine and multiple shots of SoCo and lime, which resulted in a plethora of phone calls to our friends who were out and about celebrating the shamrock. Eventually, we settled in to watch "Casino Royale" only to have Amanda abruptly announce she HAD to go to bed. (She ALWAYS finishes a movie!) Allie and I managed to go to bed around 3:30. I realized I probably should stop spending my Saturday nights in a drunken oblivion, as it makes for a wasted Sunday and accounts for immense consumption of Gatorade.

We spent the entire Sunday in front of the tv watching six movies, basketball games, countless TV shows and a very disturbing episode of "Desperate Housewives" (can you believe she took hostages and actually SHOT two??? I was getting ready to go home when I saw the crazy lady shoot the whore, which made me sit right back down). I would like to take this moment to ask 'the people' if they watch "Extreme Home Makeover" without crying? Is there a reason they need to make us cry EVERY FREAKING WEEK??!?! Seriously, is this necessary? I mean I practically bawl when I see the commercials so you can imagine the stream when I see the show. These last two episodes have been particularly tough on the heart. Gosh, I might need a vacation from it.

I think I maybe left the recliner once to go get Subway and Diet Orange Soda for us. That is my idea of heaven: best friends, food, drinks, fire, and a comfy recliner. I can't imagine anything better. (Ladies, I love you.)

Here's a run down of the movies we watched. I recommend seeing them all. Entertainment can be derived from each.

"Wimbledon": I like Kirsten Dunst. She's cute, and I secretly wish I had red hair like hers and was a famous tennis player aside from my high school career. Cute movie.

"A Good Year": Excellent movie. I loved Russell Crowe in it. I secretly wanted to be the girl version of him in the movie. Living with an Uncle by myself in France playing tennis, writing checks, throwing things in the house, and swimming in the big ol' pool sound like childhood heaven to me. Oh and the drinking wine bit helped too. What a great movie! Anyone who needs to be reminded of the important things in life needs to see this.

"When Harry Met Sally": I am embarrassed to admit this was my first viewing of this classic. It was good and since it is a classic, I'm sure I don't need to tell you to see it.

"Overnight Delivery": Funny, cute, and entertaining. Reese Witherspoon is a bad ass brunette in the movie. And the guy is hot. That makes it worthwhile for both genders. Plus, who doesn't like a movie about college and love?

"Under Cover Blues": This was a great movie because it's hysterical and it's about all the cool things I wish I could do, well basically, it's the martial arts expert involved in espionage but on a very comedic level. I am not ashamed to admit I would like a marriage much like the one between the Blues. They are funny, light hearted, bad ass, and very much a team. I enjoyed this movie immensely and can't wait to see it again. I think I'd like to find myself a Mr. Blue.

"Casino Royal": previously written and completely unchanged opinion . Rent it!

"My Father the Hero": All I have to say is that we need to find a Ben for Erin. Izzie is still a beast or maybe it was a precursor to her character on "Grey's" but she did become a likable teenager so maybe there's hope that she'll become a likable friend to George. The movie makes French dads seem very chic. Must see for all females.

I can't wait until Thursday when I resume my position next to Allie and Amanda in front of the TV. (Did I just write that? Look what you guys are doing to me!)

Monday, March 19, 2007

Updates on Mice and Basketball

I now feel confident enough to pat myself and Big Star on the back for we have not had mice since Wednesday night, which is when we set 18 traps in the garage and all of which are still EMPTY! That is lots of days with no mice. I'm feeling good. Nice work! (Phew).

While I'm disappointed Villanova lost in the first round, I am going to take a moment to brag about my standings this weekend in the ESPN pool. Yup, I was number 7,335 and in the top 99.7%. That might not seem like a high number, but considering over 1.2 million people are participating, I'm a little excited. Can you say WOOHOOO!!!

I would also like to take this moment to discuss the announcers for the games. THEY ARE AWFUL!!! Seriously, I'd like to write a letter to CBS declaring they need to have different commentators. I almost turned the games off because I could barely listen to the idiots say, "Well, if someone could score they would be doing so much better." YOU THINK? I mean really...

It's too bad Jerry Remy doesn't venture out for March Madness. I'm pretty sure he's the only sports announcer I can stand.

Friday, March 16, 2007

Dear Mr. John Mayer...


(courtesy of People.com)


I would like to take this moment to publicly announce I am not OK with John Mayer's fling with Jessica Simpson (and I'm a fan of hers). Here's my letter to him stating so:

Dear Mr. John Mayer,

Please, please John, tell us all it's a joke and you're only doing it for fun for a short time. Seriously, have you heard any of Ms. Simpson's songs or read her lyrics? While she does provide quality entertainment on very lame and superficial MTV programs, she brings nothing to the table otherwise. Come on, do your fans a favor and focus on a more meaningful relationship. Go back, read your lyrics, listen to your own music, find some inspiration in the fact that you deserve better than a fake blonde who unabashedly continues to promote the "dumb blonde" stereotype. You haven't updated your blog in weeks. If this is how it's going to be, I'm revolting and plan to take as many other fans as I can on this crusade. She's not worthy!! Get past the boobs, for Christ sake. This is not ok!! Not at all. I can't even bring myself to listen to your music anymore because I fear your image is a little bit tarnished. I thought you were above all the celebrity bullshit. This is ridiculous. If you don't clean up your act soon, I'll be forced to cheat on you with another man. So quit "slow dancing in a burning room" and get back to business. FIND A REAL WOMAN AND WRITE SOMETHING MEANINGFUL ON YOUR BLOG!!! God, you're killing us out here.

I'm certain these words would ring a bell. I thought you could use a little reminding:

"I sleep with this new girl I'm still getting used to
my friends all approve, say she's gonna be good for you
they throw me, high fives...

She says the bible is all that she reads
and prefers that I not use profanity...

Life of the party
and she swears that she's artsy...

she's perfect, so flawless
or so they say, say...

She thinks I can't see the smile that she's fakin'
and poses for pictures that aren't being taken..."

Get the hint?

Sincerely,

~ Miss Cupcake

Phew, glad that is off my chest. Also, I'd like for all my lovely and wonderful friends to stop sending me links to articles about this awful relationship. I can't take it anymore!

Thank You Officer

I would like to take this moment to thank the Saco Police Officer who did not give me a ticket for driving 58 miles an hour in 35 or 45 mph zone yesterday on my way to Karate. I humbly and gratefully promise to slow down while driving.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

NCAA TOURNAMENT



I love this time of year so much I can barely contain my excitement. Let me first declare I am a Wildcat fan. I paid my dues and will forever hold my place in that line. Despite the lowly number nine seed in the tournament this year, I have them winning two of my ten pools. Call it wishful thinking, call it whatever you want, but I had to. I always have hope. I have various teams winning the rest of my pools. If we're not talking wishfully here, I'd like to see Ohio State or Memphis win. And even though I'd rather not see them win, I picked Florida to win another pool just to be safe. I am very disappointed Syracuse was dissed, as they are usually my other go to team when 'Nova is not a strong contender. I have a special place in my heart for the Orangemen and was sad to see them excluded. However, I'm certain I covered all my bases, and I did it right down to the wire, as in less than ten minutes to fill out my last pool before the doors slammed shut. Phew!

YAY! Let the games begin!!! Good luck and GO CATS!!!

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

HELP ME SAVE MY DOJO!!!

On Friday, I received a letter in the mail, which informed me that my beloved DOJO was closing. This could not be? My heart sank and I almost started crying right in the middle of the post office. I read the letter twice. I could not imagine life without Northern Chi. Seriously, it's family to me. I spend five or six days a week there. I love the place so much I refuse to let it go.

The scoop is one of the principle partners is leaving to move abroad. She was very important to the little dragons and Kokoro programs, which make up two-thirds of the business. THERE IS A SIX MONTH WAITING LIST TO GET INTO THESE PROGRAMS. Clearly, it's profitable. The main issue is the time. Another partner and Sensei are needed to take over the vacant job. This is a very small time commitment of 25 hours or less a week, yet it is very important.

I am on a mission to find an investor and/or an instructor. If anyone out there wants to be part of the community and make some money while doing it, please send me an email. I cannot bare to see my favorite place close. It's worse than a bad break-up. I believe it's worth saving.

Help me save the dojo!!!

Your comments, suggestions, and overall input is greatly encouraged. This is very important to me.

(for more information, please contact cupcake via comments or e-mail)

An Update on the Mouse Hunt

Last night, I arrived home around 8:00 p.m. Instead of hassling me as usual, Big Star let me eat six girl scout cookies before giving me 'a look'. She was on a mission and there was no way to stop or avoid her. She changed into the appropriate clothing and sported some gloves. While I set all the traps, she stretched out and did some jumping jacks. Armed with my handy dandy shovel and six shiny new mouse traps, I followed Erin to the garage. She confidently opened the garage door while I stood "outside warding off evil spirits," holding garbage bags, and providing moral support.

Time now was 9:00 p.m.

I said, "People are going to think we're crazy."

She turned to me and said, "Well, it's better than the mice thinking we're family."


She had a point. So the laboring began. Erin put all the recycling in garbage bags while I held them open. She organized all the toys, containers, and what not so it was clean and piled nicely in a corner for us to take out on Thursday. We did not see one mouse the entire time we were outside, however, we recovered two of the missing traps and two of the missing mice. Meanwhile, I was praying to the 'dear lord baby Jesus' and repeating the mantra "I'm ok, you're ok" in a seemingly autistic way over and over again in order to stave off a heart attack. I was beyond the point of anxiety and panic. I successfully set the traps on the garage floor so we could call it a night.

We returned upstairs to start cleaning. Big Star headed straight to the cupboard and reached for the pretzels. I gave her 'a look' to which she replied, "What? I can't help it. I'm an emotional eater!" For fear of a scene much like the ones in "Arachnophobia" (only with mice) taking place in our kitchen, we swept, cleaned, and scrubbed the counter tops and contemplated how we could get our dear friend Ross to the good old U.S.A. or a sponsorship from MLB.

An hour goes by and it's bedtime. Erin and I marched downstairs to the garage to check our traps. We were in good shape as none of the traps had been set. I was beginning to think we caught most of them, that is until this morning.

I woke up at 8:00 a.m. to Erin shrieking, "OH MY GOD!!" I rushed out of bed to see what it was. I was greeted by a scene resembling the streets of Baghdad. There were dead mice everywhere. I put on my harry potters and grabbed a trash bag while mentioning to Erin to grab the tongs. She sent the muchachos to the car and assumed the position. We collected more dead mice and assessed the two empty traps. She disposed of the nasty buggers and I agreed to stop at the store to get more resources. I definitely need therapy now.

TOTAL TRAPS RECOVERED: TWO
TOTAL MICE RECOVERED: THREE
TOTAL MICE MISSING: TWO
TOTAL MICE DEAD: TEN
TOTAL ANXIETY ATTACKS: 2,467

I think it's time to call the professionals.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

I LOVE MEGAN!!!


Today at work, I had a special delivery of Tulips from Miss Megan.
How exciting! Thank you so much Meg. You made my day!!

The Mouse Massacre has Begun...

I arrived home around 8 p.m. last night only to be greeted by my lovely roommate, Erin, who was ready to set the rest of the mouse traps. I barely finished dinner before she insisted we get to work. I choked down what I could then gathered the remaining seven traps. I set all of them and placed them neatly on a baking sheet to transport to the garage. Once we reached the first floor, we meekly opened the garage door. Nothing was in sight so Erin BRAVELY ventured into the garage without shoes to put the traps in the corners and by the recycling, which is now the only wreckage left out there besides a random couch. (I have no idea where it came from or why it's there, but luckily, Heidi has volunteered to help us remove it later tonight.) At one point, I was certain a mouse ran in front of the door, which prompted me to close it thereby shutting Erin in the garage by herself with the vermin. She screamed, and I opened the door a crack to make sure the little bugger didn't get past the door. I was quite certain she was going to have a stroke but she finished the job without a complaint. Once all the traps were set, we shut the door and headed back upstairs.

After about 15 minutes, Erin insisted we go see if we had caught anything yet. While trying to avoid death by anxiety, I agreed to follow her. Sure enough, there was one half dead mouse convulsing on the concrete in front of the couch. Erin shrieked and I shut the door and ran upstairs. At this point, my hero began scratching her legs vehemently as a result of the anxiety she could not control. An hour later, Erin insisted we go back down to check on the traps. I began to think she was a glutton for punishment and decline the invite. She hurried down over the stairs, opened the door, the shrieked so loudly I'm certain most of the town heard her. I covered my ears and tried to think happy thoughts. She screamed up for me to join her down there yelling that there was another dead mouse RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE DOOR while another one was "seemingly humping his compadre" (please read her full comment regarding last nights mouse hunt here .) She wanted to show me but I refused to look. I marched back upstairs where I could pretend nothing happened. I grabbed some magazines and emphatically demanded we be finished for the night. She agreed so we went about our business until it was bedtime. Did I mention my bedroom is next to the garage?? (Diagram is located here .) I refused to let the nasty little buggers ruin my life so I decided to sleep in my room. On my way there, I heard scratching at the garage door and screamed. I demanded Erin come downstairs immediately. She peeked her head around the corner and listened. I made her come stand next to the door. We listened to the scratching and rustling for a few minutes before I proclaimed I couldn't take it anymore and went to bed. She asked if we should open the door but I would not let her. I chose to pretend it didn't happen. Off to bed we went and I had the wonderful experience of dreaming about mice in our kitchen. It was awesome.

This morning, I woke up from my unpleasant rest refusing to acknowledge any of the events occurring in the garage the previous evening. Erin called me twice at work complaining of anxiety and chest pains. I researched pest control options on the Internet and discovered a nifty new device that releases electronic waves making a house inhospitable for vermin. I am buying two first thing Friday morning. I'm also on the hunt for mouse traps like the ones the Meg's parents bought us last year. I don't even care about having to go to Lowe's for them and THAT IS HUGE! My compadre and I decided to meet at home for lunch so we could assess the situation. I have a feeling this is just the beginning.

I got home and headed to the kitchen to make some food, however, Erin valiantly demanded we take care of the mice instantly. Reluctantly, I followed her outside. Once again, She-Ra boldly entered the garage to remove the carcasses. I held a shovel while Erin marched into the disgusting battle scene armed with a plastic bag and tongs. We found one dead mouse right by the door. It was absolutely repulsive, however, very dead. First one disposed. Unfortunately, the two mice we saw last night were gone. It appeared they vanished with the humping compadre. I'm guessing, the "brood" had taken their bodies, AND THE TRAPS back to the burial ground where they were either going to eat them or hide them. Erin ventured further into the garage where she was greeted by another dead bugger. She let out a loud groan and began convulsing herself. It was awful. We found two more traps that were tripped and licked clean but did not harbor any rodents. I have no idea where the bastards took their dead friends, but this meant war. We are ordering the electronic Pest OFFensive, picking up more traps, and "cleaning house" tonight.

TRAPS SET: SEVEN
GRAND TOTAL OF MICE SEEN: FIVE
GRAND TOTAL OF MICE DEAD: FOUR
GRAND TOTAL OF MICE REMOVED: TWO
TRAPS LEFT: TWO

I have no sympathy for these dirty little bastards. We're going to get them one way or another. We just can't take it anymore. I fear one of us will just drop dead from anxiety otherwise. I am open to any suggestions 'the people' might have...

Meanwhile, I'll keep you posted.

Monday, March 12, 2007

Another Saturday Night...

Saturday night, Big Star and I were sitting in the kitchen talking about something when it occurred to us to go to the garage a.k.a. "the home for vermin". She went first and I sheepishly followed. She cracked open the door while I hovered behind. We were met by a small rodent staring intently at us. Apparently, the line had been draw because Big Star immediately declared we had to do something about our vermin problem RIGHT NOW. So at 7:30 p.m. on Saturday night, we set out on a "kill mice crusade". On the way out the door, Erin asked, "Why is it I can spend $100 at the MAC counter but not $30 on trash cans?" With that in mind, we headed to Target to find the resources we needed.

I should have known we were in trouble when Big Star grabbed a cart. We did have a list of things to get, however, as is the case when one enters this evil store, other things not on our list ended up in our cart. We wandered through the store beginning with the magazines, which is where I always start no matter what my purpose is. I ended up with a can of peaches, a can of tropical fruit, and peppermint tea before we even got the outdoor section. Strolling along, Erin stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the shiny bright new dishes they had on display for summer. Needless to say, we now have an entire collection of tiki glasses and bowls for our kitchen. I'm just glad she decided against the tiki bar lemonade dispenser. And it's a damn good thing most of the dishes were not pink, otherwise, all hell would have broken loose. I finally pried her away from the new toys to refocus on our mission. We spent a good ten minutes looking for garbage cans when one of the nice red dot men informed us the store was out of trash cans. I was peeved because they did not have the mouse traps I wanted either. (The no touch reusable do-not-see-squished-bodies-of-dead-mice-kind that Meg's parents bought last year.) We checked out and decided to tempt fate at Home Depot. The time now was 8:40 p.m.

We ran into 'the box' just in time to frantically search for mouse traps. Of course, they did not have the kind for which I was looking so I had to settle for the old school break-a-finger-if-you-don't-set-it-correctly-trap. Erin asked me why it mattered. I described how the traps worked but was interrupted when she blurted out, "I have to give them my peanut butter?!?!?!" I just looked at her and requested we get a move on because I could not believe this was how we were spending our Saturday night without the muchachos. She flagged down a Home Depot employee and inquired about their trash cans. He directed us to the outdoor garden section. We marched to the doors only to find them locked shut. Big Star ran down the aisle to hunt down Home Depot man to help us. All the while she was yelling,"Excuse me, Excuse me!! Can you open those doors? They are locked and it's very important that we get a trash can right now. Very important!" He looked at her, then at me. I confirmed the importance. He retrieved another employee with a key who let us into the garden section. The original Home Depot man followed us to the appropriate aisle. After a few minutes of debating the merits of each can, we decided on two of the big wheelie kind. We pulled out the ones we wanted and then searched for covers. Of course, they had no covers for the trash cans. Well that kind of defeats the purpose, and can someone please explain to me how in the hell they have the trash cans but no covers? Seriously! Annoyed and extremely pissed, we left the Home Depot empty handed. The only other venue open was the dreadful Wal-Mart- the one place we both hate with a passion. I can't even remember the last time I walked into one of those disgusting and pathetic stores. I almost dislike them as much as I do the vermin. However, at 9:15 p.m, SATURDAY NIGHT we did not have many options. We headed into wally world where we found two trash cans and some other random things with the help of a surprisingly hot Wal-Mart manger employee man. The highlight of this trip was Erin yelling "It's hot enough to breed sheep in here!" Thereby prompting me to keel over laughing and almost sending all products on the shelf crashing to the floor. It was time to go home.

While leaving the store with our cans, I realized we forgot the mouse traps so back into the hell hole we went. Finally, we made it out of the store with our goods and arrived home around 10 p.m. Immediately, we got down to business. I opened the traps and started to set them however did not get very far because the trap slammed shut on my thumb when I was putting the peanut butter in the little metal thing. I thought for sure I broke my thumb and Big Star just about peed her pants in the doorway after watching the scene. Precisely the reason I did not want these stupid little traps! At that moment, Alex called to invite us out for drinks and pool at the upstairs OPT. Erin was reluctant but I needed a drink after our excursion so we told him we'd meet there in a half hour. I set the trap successfully this time but made Erin put the trap in the garage. Once again, we walked to the door, opened it. All was clear so she ran to the oil tank to check the oil. It was on EMPTY. Great, another reason we needed a drink. Big Star took the trap from me (I could not possibly go out there with no shoes on) and set it on the floor but not before it went off in her hands. This was becoming quite the ridiculous spectacle. We abandoned ship and instead got dressed to go out.

Half an hour later we strolled into the bar to meet Alex et al. He cheerfully greeted us while proclaiming we looked like we needed drinks. He bought us a round of beers and we happily settled in at the pool table where he, Rachel, Rob, and "the Hammer" were playing. Thinking the night could not get any worse, I sat down and all at once saw Mr. Houdini across the room with his friends. Great. Just great. I got up from my seat and positioned myself so I could not see him anymore. I refused to go over there. He and I were in a fight. A huge nearly irreconcilable fight. Last Friday, we had a nice little chat about our situation where he proclaimed he was really busy and promised to stop disappearing blah blah blah. One week later, he had not called yet again. It became evidently clear he obviously was "too busy" playing darts with his friends. You've got to be kidding me. Hello, PEOPLE! For an hour and a half we sat in the same bar and he did not say one word to me. He actually never acknowledged my existence at all. This was the same boy who wanted so vehemently to see me a mere seven days ago. I watched him walk right by us out the door without saying a word. Needless to say, I have no time for him anymore. Yes, it's too little too late you jerk. And to think he had the audacity to say I was being mean last week. I was just wondering how he sees himself in this situation this week? Honestly, you suck.

Instead of dwelling on how awful that hour and a half was, I drank some more beers and decided to accept a dare from Alex. Turns out, Hammer was at the bar seducing a girl with whom he went to high school. Erin and Alex dared me to go up to the couple and wrap my arms around Hammer, wink and ask him how he was. I walked right over to him, put my arms around his shoulders and said, "Hey Hammer, how are ya?" and winked. The girl sitting with him just about died. God, I'm awful but it was hysterical. Alex bought me another beer and we went back to playing pool while Hammer and cheerleader started fighting. After a couple of rounds of bad pool, I decided I needed some shots so I convinced everyone to brave the downstairs with me, however, not before I embarrassed myself. I was quite pissed about Mr. Houdini's snub so I thought I would send him a text message telling him so. Lucky for me, I have one of those phones that fills the words in for you. I typed "You're an ass-" when the phone filled in the word so the message read, "You're an associate" and sent the message. WOW. Honestly, Just wow. I immediately wrote "ass" and sent it. A few minutes later, he responded, "What is an associate ass?" Oh my god color me red and set me on fire! I almost died. Was this night really happening? I couldn't take it anymore so Big Star and I went to the club to have a few shots. Alex, Rachel, and Hammer joined us. We danced, drank, and enjoyed the bad music until I saw Balding Argyle Sweater Man on my way to the bar. I immediately did an about face and told everyone it was time to go. After having a shot of Tequila come out her nose, Erin was the only one prepared to drive (the shot was the only drink she had, and well, that didn't really count). She declared we were going to Denny's. The crew piled into Bonnie and headed to the restaurant. This is when I thought it would be a good idea to call Mr. Houdini to give him a peace of my mind. After three tries, I finally got the number right and thought maybe he answered but I kept saying hello and didn't hear anything. Of course, at the same time I was leaving a message, I was yelling at Erin about not making out with Alex. It went really well. I also managed to call someone else, but I didn't remember (he reminded me the next day). My phone likes to fill in telephone numbers too. Thank god my six or seven phone calls went unanswered. (I was just repaying the favor from the Thursday night I received six phone calls between 12 and 1 a.m.) Seriously, this needs to stop. I was saved by the waitress who came to our table to take our order. When it was my turn, I pointed to something and then decided it would be best for me to just sit there quietly and wait for my food. I have no idea what I ate, and I don't really remember much of the ride home other than the talking mistletoe toy going off on a rant about kissing in the backseat of the car. Oh and Erin yelling at me. We rolled into our drive way at about 4 a.m. As I crawled into bed, I could not help but think, "Is this really my life?"

Lessons of the evening: Just stay home. Go to bed. Never order more than two boxes of girl scout cookies again. Try not to mismanage $1,600. Fix your text message options so words aren't "put in your mouth" and numbers aren't filled in automatically. Oh and despite my very bungling behavior, he's not worth it.

This girl has had enough. So if you're looking for me, I'll be at home reading my 'Travel & Leisure' magazines with the vermin from now on...

SATURDAY, MARCH 3, 2007: LO'S BDAY BASH

Please excuse my going back to write about two weekends ago, but I felt the need to share to paint a better picture of how awesome my life has become this month (if the sarcasm hit you in the face, I'm sorry.) Oh and I feel like my posts last week were a little disappointing, and I cannot have 'the people' disappointed.

Kelley, Allie , Laurie, and I decided to celebrate Laurie's birthday with a night out on the town. (Despite the fact that I had almost died twice that day between "The Plague" and my Blue Belt test, I could not miss a birthday bash.) We had delicious and nutritious Thai food at my favorite little place downtown. I can never remember the name of the place but it's the little red building with very inexpensive yet awesome food. That one over there....

For dessert, I decided a girl needs options so I took the ladies to the dessert corner at the new Whole Foods. After wandering the chocolate bar and bakery, we wiped the drool from our faces and settled on four little cakes to give ourselves a variety and because we felt like being fatties. Lo deserved it! (If I happen to go bankrupt this year, I am wholeheartedly blaming the new Whole Foods for my financial decline. DAMN YOU PEOPLE!) We took our luscious goods back to the Hilton, rounded up a candle, whispered happy birthday because Lo insisted we could not sing to her, then happily began drinking. We primped for a half hour as we discussed very important matters such as microscopic maggots on mascara brushes, CH, how awful it is John Mayer is dating Jessica Simpson, and anal sex. Around 10:3o, we ventured out and about.

The first bar we stopped at was so hot and crowded we spent a total of ninety seconds there before heading to the classy dancing establishment known as "The OPT". As Laurie said, "We could meet our sleaze quota for the month." We entered the building at a great time, as the bar had not filled up yet and the music was exceptionally good. This is important because in order to secure a chair on which to hang your coats, you need to get there at a reasonable time, otherwise, you have to hold your bulky jackets while dancing. This is not sexy and quite annoying. Immediately upon walking on the dance floor, we meet our sleaze quota. Allie turned to me and dared me to go over to this girl (pointing in girl's direction) and ask her "How much?" I took one look at the hooker and just about threw up. I declined her dare for fear of catching a disease if I stood within ten feet of the hooker. She and another girl were dancing very sexually with each other while the boyfriend of one watched. No joke, the girl was a prostitute (or a porn star). We tried not to stare, but as Lo said, "I can't stop staring. It's like a bad train wreck." Indeed it was. At one point, the girls started making out with each other and the hooker so gracefully shoved her hand down her skirt and began touching herself. I looked around for the camera crew but didn't see one. I was almost certain they were shooting a porn. All I can say is Classy. Eventually the three of them left, but not before we had the chance to find another couple to entertain us.

A seven foot man and a five foot woman were dancing so close to our square they kept hitting Laurie in the back every time one of them moved. For some reason, I'm guessing because of the drugs they took in the bathroom, he felt the need to lean on his girl. Now, maybe I'm wrong but it just seems like that might not be a cool way to dance or a comfortable way to move. Picture big seven foot man leaning on little five foot girl. Do you see his ass grinding with Lo's? Cause we did. I tried to get her to palm heel him in the kidneys because he would have stopped dancing with his ass immediately, but she refused to impart such traumatic pain on him. Eventually they left too, but not before the threesome returned. For fear of catching crabs or hepatitis, we moved to another section of the dance floor. This is when the temperature reached sauna levels and balding argyle sweater man appeared. He walked by Lo, smiled at our group, then grabbed my ass. I am not sure when it became ok for men to grab my ass, but I HATE it, and the frequency at which it happens when I'm out and about alarms me. I almost turned around to smack him with a knife hand to the throat when Laurie busted out laughing. Turns out, she grabbed his ass, turned to look at him, winked and pointed to me. Nice. It's a good thing it was her birthday. Balding argyle sweater man remained next to our group for a bit until we decided the music was no longer good and our chances of catching an STD were becoming alarmingly higher with each passing moment. We grabbed our jackets and headed for the door but not before BASM could grab my hand in an attempt to get my attention. I'm sure he was going for my butt but I just politely told him he had the wrong girl. We stumbled into the fresh air and made it back to the hotel without punishing our bodies with the god awful Bill's pizza that is only good when you're exceptionally intoxicated or cannot use your taste buds.

Luckily, this time Allie did not give out our room number to strangers.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!

(I pray to God you really don't read this!)

Friday, March 09, 2007

"The Dancer Upstairs"


"The story of Detective Agustin Rejas, a man clinging to the hope of an impossible love in an impossible world. Tracking Ezequiel, a delusional anarchist who incites the downtrodden masses to join in his brutal revolution against the fascist government in their unnamed Latin American country, Rejas finds solace in his sense of self-respect and the joy that his daughter and wife bring him. Then he meets Yolanda--his daughter's soulfully beautiful ballet teacher--a woman who sparks his long-forgotten passions and represents all that is good and all that is corrupt in their troubled country. But she, who appears to be a shelter from the storm, may in actuality be the storm's eye. Ultimately, as the revolution intensifies and the net closes around hunter and hunted alike, the dancer's truth will prove as elusive as the revolutionary's cause and the detective's peace. Written by Sujit R. Varma"

I love Thursday nights because I usually spend them curled up next to the fire at Amanda's house where we watch "Grey's Anatomy," "The Office," and a plethora of other shows and movies. It's the only day of the week I actually watch TV. The company is awesome, the food is good, and pure inaction is blissful. As a result of all the reruns on last night, we watched the movie "The Dancer Upstairs." Neither of us new much about it but thought it was worth a shot considering our mutual interest in Latin America, especially the men. The movie was fantastic. The actors, especially the man playing Rejas, was amazing. We spent a good portion of the movie trying to figure out the characters' roles in the revolution and in which country the movie was set. (Although not mentioned in the movie, it was Peru.) "The Dancer Upstairs" was disturbing, moving, and enlightening. For the majority of the picture, I was certain I developed an ulcer from the stress of the terror the revolutionaries were causing. The suspense was dramatic and real and came to a realistic and touching conclusion.

The issues in the movie that struck a chord with me were downright disturbing. First, the terrorists used children to carry out their missions. This was tremendously upsetting. In one of the scenes, a small boy runs into a town meeting where there's a prominent government official socializing with a group of supporters. The small boy, who was no older than 5, told the security guard he had his father's bag thereby warranting the guard to let him in. The child ran up to the official proclaiming, "Dad, Dad, you forgot your bag!" The official quizzically looked at the child, then suspiciously at the bag when it blew up in his hands but not before the boy could yell, "Long live Presidente Ezequiel!!" This is a very unexpected act and shocks the hell out of you when it happens. I nearly jumped out of my seat. This scene coupled with the scene of the teenage girls opening up fire on a caravan of officials just exasperated me. They are children!! It makes one contemplate how much your environment and other people influence society, especially the innocent.

The second issue that impacted me was the sheer destitution of the people. They were so hopeless, oppressed, and poor they were willing to die for anything resembling hope, even if it was fanatical extremism without a logical cause. Could something like that happen here? I'm not talking the kind of terrorism imposed by hateful "outsiders" but the kind of terror caused by denizens of the good old U.S. of A.? Could a situation arise where people could not leave their homes because a group of locals was murdering and pillaging, randomly, left and right without any idea of what or who would be the next target? Where the military shoots the members of a suspicious club? Where they march in the streets day and night demanding to see the "papers" of everyone who is out in public? This astounds and humbles me.

I often think about how hopelessly arbitrary where we are born is. Think about it. You have no say about where, to whom, or when you are born. You could just as easily have been born in Cairo, Lima, Shanghai, Asunción, Paris, Vientiane, or Lincoln, Nebraska instead of where you actually were. This one very important detail determines so much of how your world progresses. I cannot help but think how extraordinarily lucky I am to have a deep blue passport embossed with the United States of America on it. While the prospects of traveling to another country and even maybe seeing some forbidden lands (Cuba & Columbia) excites me, the fear of not being allowed back into the deeply troubled land of the free and home of the brave is far more distressing. Movies like "The Dancer Upstairs" intrigue and scare me.

I highly recommend enduring the few hours of sometimes uncomfortable enlightenment this movie offers. I commend the creators on a job well done.

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

My Visual DNA



Completely ignore the fact that I clicked the wrong gender in my profile. I don't know why anyone named cupcake would ever be a male. I'm awaiting the tech support on how to freaking fix it. (Anyone who knows how to fix this gets girl scout cookies for helping me.)

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Mail Order Husband

Friday night, Lo, Allie, Whit, and I searched the internet for a mail order husband. After taking a brief survey, this is the husband they set me up with...



"Arnaud, Sarcelles, France
Good day to you. I am seeking (how you say) friendly woman who has a job. I like enormously the music, football, the cinema... I am has the search of the healthy relations (friendship or love) and for a constructive communication, because sometimes I a little only smell myself..."

I think I'll take my chances in the open market...

Monday, March 05, 2007

I did it, Don't Ask Me How Though...

Saturday morning, I woke up sweating and feeling like I was going to pass out, not to mention the harsh coughing and overall feeling that death was overcoming me. The plague had a relentless six day claim on me and appeared to persist with no relief in sight. I rolled out of bed, ate breakfast, and gathered my karate bag for the daunting task ahead of me. I arrived at the dojo to meet questions regarding my five day absence from workouts. I filled them in on the plague that had fallen upon me and expressed my concerns over taking the test. Everyone assured me I'd be fine, which was easy for them to say as they did not feel as if they were going to die. The senseis all acknowledged my current physical state and just told me to do my best. And hence, my blue belt test began promptly at 11:15 a.m. We started off with punches and kicks, and more punches and more kicks. Right about this time, I believe 45 minutes into the test, my face was the color of a fire engine, and I was almost certain I was going to drop dead right then. One of the senseis took pity on me and made me go get water. Then we moved on to combinations, kempos, forms, more karate kicks, ring of the dragon with two people attacking you at once, then more fighting and finally sparring (where I almost cried twice), weapons, and more forms. It was the longest, hardest, most grueling two hours of my life. I have no idea how, but I did it. I'm certain the non stop karate was part of the reason, as I did not have time to consider anything but the material over which I was being tested. I probably should not have taken the test because I still feel like crap and my head hurts me, but I now have my blue belt. I surely earned it. Moral of the story: When you think you absolutely cannot, chances are, you can and you will.

Now if I could just get someone to massage my cranium...

Thursday, March 01, 2007

"I wish they all could be Villanova Girls"

Yes, I am guilty of subscribing to the online edition of "The Villanovan". I get nostalgic. Plus, it has news about our beloved basketball team and occasionally, pictures of Jay Wright (who is hot). Not to mention it makes me feel better about the whopping $1,200 check I send to the nice student loan people every month (I'll refrain from commenting on my overpriced and overrated education for now). Today, I found this article about Villanova girls. I think it's quite accurate and humorous. I can't wait to read what he writes when he graduates...

I wish they all could be Villanova girls - Opinion

P.S. You probably won't hear from me for a couple of days because I'm too busy trying not to die. I just need to make it through my blue belt test on Saturday. Geettt..... theeerree...

Assuming I make it to then, y'all are welcome to come watch. Just shoot me an email and I'll send you the info. I can't promise it will be my best performance, however, the others who are testing will make up for me. They are awesome.

Oh and in case something should happen (My head bursts because of my fever or I choke while coughing or just pass out from feeling awful) please know that I love you guys. Seriously, I.LOVE..YOU! And if this boy hacks into my blog to make a post, it's not good (worry not, I gave him permission).

Happy reading & BE WELL!!

Why Thursdays are my favorite weekday


I love Thursdays after one o'clock EST (actually 6 p.m. London time) when the newest edition of "The Economist" is posted on their website. This makes me happy. I love to see the new covers and the leaders for the week. I just love it. I feel so informed. Although, I wish they'd publish the cartoon of the week online too. I'll write them a note:

Dear Sirs,

(This is how every letter to the editor of this magazine is addressed.)

I would greatly appreciate it if you could publish the weekly cartoon featured in your print edition on your website as well. One of my favorite parts of your magazine is the fun you make of people in your cartoons. I commend you on the creativity and extraordinary work you do. I have been an avid reader since 2001 and would like to say I've never been disappointed with a cartoon. Kindly take my request into consideration.

Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,

~ Miss Cupcake


I promise this publication includes something for everyone. Book, movies, obituaries, current events, new, business info, technology, and usually a special report on a different and interesting topic (the last one I read was on happiness, quite good.) They also have City guides and travel info. I recommend you check it out.

1001 Books You Must Read

Featured on Listology.com is a list of the 1001 books you must read before you die. I am happy to admit I've read 45. Of course the older the book, the more likely I've read it. Check it out if you like lists, like to read, or if you're looking for a little inspiration in the book department.