July 27, 2010

I curse the day you were born, Alexander Graham Bell

This...

















is what I've been doing all day. My brain is fried. My ear needs a vodka tonic. And my nerves need a...vodka tonic.

Peace out.

July 26, 2010

Flowing Streams of Consciousness

I have five unchecked voicemails on my office phone.
Files need to be filed.
Letters need to be sent.
Board meeting notes need to be typed.
I had icecream for lunch.
Rocky Road.
It's my favorite.
My favorite used to be vanilla.
That's weird isn't it?
I'm so not vanilla.
I'm so rainbow sherbet.
I'm so toffee almond crunch.
I'm so not vanilla.
I have six empty coffee cups on my desk.
I have eight phone message stickies from the secretary.
I haven't returned any of the calls.
I have answered my office phone fourteen times today.
I had icecream for lunch.
I will probably have wine for dinner.

July 23, 2010

Liplicious

Mark just got back from being away for 2 whole weeks.

My lips have felt lonely.

He's coming to pick me up to take me to lunch.

I threw some gum in, you know, to freshen things up.

Then I was going to slick on some Dr. Pepper lipgloss.

But then I remembered the last time I slicked on some Dr. Pepper lipgloss, and he said, "Ew! Yuck! I'm never kissing you again!"

So instead, I slicked on some fruit punch flavored Liplicious gloss from Bath & Body Works. Oh yeah, pullin' out the big guns, the expensive stuff, ladies.

I gotta get me a ring!

Me and Marvin Gaye...and a Tomato

A few weeks ago, Mark and I went “pickin’” at his granddad’s garden in the country. I want to pitch a tent in this garden and live off the land for all eternity. It’s beautiful out there and the land produces perfect vegetables. (Unlike my garden. I think it’s about time I throw in the towel with gardening. This year’s crop is not looking too good.) He’s got corn fields, watermelon patches, scuppernong vines, tomatoes, peppers, squash, and cucumbers as far as the eye can see.

I made myself a tomato sandwich the other night with one of the biggest, juiciest tomatoes I’ve ever seen out of Mark’s granddad’s garden. There’s just something so different about the taste, the consistency of a fresh-off-the-vine tomato. It’s like you can almost taste the earth it was grown from. (Okay, I’ll stop there before I sound too much like a hippie.) So I ate this sandwich. And then I sang the tomato a love song. I think you know it. It goes something like this:

Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby
Ain't nothing like the real thing
Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby
Ain't nothing like the real thing


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Just call me Tammi "Tomato" Terrell.

July 22, 2010

About to go to town





Alternate Title: Does this angle make my face look fat?

 




Stuff I blow my money on: Part Uno

This is going to be sort of BOGO post. Well, actually it's going to be a BOGTF post. Does anyone know what I just said? If you do, leave it in the comments and I'll buy you a slushy.

So, the title of this post Stuff I blow my money on: Part Uno is a new segment I'm adding to this here blog. I make pretty good money. I definitely feel like I earn what I should be earning for someone with my experience, education and qualifications. I don't have a whole bunch of debt besides the student loans from my eight (yes, eight. Please don't judge me.) years of undergrad. My car's paid off. My rent's cheap. I'm doing pretty good. Somehow though, I never have any money. I'm not going to lie; I love to shop. Whether it's buying frozen vegatables and sour cream or shoes and shirts, I love to shop.

Mark always asks me what I spend my money on. He can never figure out where it goes and how it goes so quickly. I can. And you can too. Just look at the picture below:

That's nineteen bottles of shampoo, people. NINETEEN. Hey, the first step is admitting I have a problem, right?

This leads nicely into some About PeyPey points:

About Me #6: I am an excessive person. From the amount of shampoo bottles I have in my bathroom to amount of boxes of frozen broccoli I have in my freezer to the amount of love I dole out to people to the amount of wine I drink on a nightly basis, I am an excessive person.
About Me #7: I have a hard time finishing things. Whether it's a book, a home project, a bottle of shampoo, a bottle of wine (wait, nevermind on that one), I have a hard time finishing things.

So see? You just got a BOGTF deal! Come back next week for the BTGTF deal! See ya then!

July 21, 2010

Incessant Ramblings

No, not incest ramblings. Who do you think I am, anyway? If you're here for that, sorry, you can leave. And please let the door hit you on your way out.

Ahhhem. Let's begin by talking about the weather, shall we?

It's hot here. Like 104 degrees Fahrenheit hot. Like what's the point in taking a shower because the minute I step outside, I'll be drenched in sweat hot. Like my toenails are sweating hot. Like my ear canals are sweating hot. Yeah. That hot. Please, my lovely Canadian readers (I know you're out there. I Google analyticked you. And yes, I'm quite aware that analyticked isn't a word. I made it up. You should try making up words. It's fun. Billy Bob does it all the time. Have I ever told you the story of "Optober"? I haven't? Ohhh, you're in for a treat someday. Back to the regularly scheduled programming...) can I come visit you? Somewhere nice and cool? Somewhere that doesn't feel like I'm sinking into the devil's belly button? Literally? Thanks. See you soon.

Now I'd like to talk about barbeque. May I take you on a tour of my hometown barbeque restaurants? If it's alright by you, I'll just name them and tell you how many locations they have. Cool? And look, I know you don't care one flippin' flip about barbeque restaurants in my hometown. I know you don't. But I need you to know this, okay? My mind won't settle down until you know. (Please keep in mind that I live in a city of about 200,000 folks. 200,000 BBQ eating folks.) I've added notes about the ones I've tried.

1. 13th Street BBQ (3 locations) MY FAVE!
2. Boss Hog's BBQ (1 location)
3. Brennan Road BBQ (1 location)
4. Chester’s BBQ (2 locations) Possibly in the most ghetto part of town. There is also a Chester's Grocery Store attached in which, my guess is, they sell all things BBQ related.
5. Chicken Comer’s BBQ (1 location) I've had their chicken fingers but not their BBQ.
6. Clearview BBQ (1 location)
7. Country’s BBQ (4 locations) Good home cooking but BBQ sucks.
8. Ed’s BBQ (1 location) I've only ever had their rutabagas. And no, I'm not kidding. 
9. Fat Freddie’s BBQ (1 location) Ahhhh...so many childhood memories from this place. My dad would take me and my older brother there once a week. I always got a bacon biscuit. Thanks, dad. No really, thanks. I have you to thank for these ham-hocks that call themselves my thighs.
10. Hamilton Road BBQ (1 location)
11. Hog Rock BBQ (1 location)
12. Legends BBQ (1 location)
13. Macon Road BBQ (1 location) It's right next to TJMaxx, so although I pass by there way too often, I've only eaten there a handful of times. And it was just okay.
14. Mike & Ed’s BBQ (4 locations) Best smoked ham and turkey in town!
15. Pepper’s BBQ (1 location) I would take a bath in their sauces if I didn't have to clean the tub afterwards.
16. Rib Shack (1 location) This place is literally a shack. Plywood walls and floors and nothing more. And it's a front for the more popular nightclub that's attached, the Shanty Shack. Want to see some rednecks? Maybe a rebel flag or eight hundred? Then go there.
17. Smokey Pig (2 locations) Sweet tea heaven.
18. Thornton’s BBQ (4 locations) Cool story: Anyone watch The Neely's on Food Network TV? They're cousins with the people who own this place!

So if I take 5 and add it to 7 and then multiply it by the day of the week and divide it by how many clean pairs of panties I have left before I have to do laundry again and then take the square root of it all and subtract 1, my calculation works out to be 31. Someone check my math please. Thirty-one. That's an awful lot of choices, isn't it? One that didn't make it on the list because it's just outside the city limits but that deserves an honorable mention is this one: MEAT'S BBQ. I'd like to meet Meat. And taste Meat's meat. Ok, I'm done. And my need for you to know the above is reconciled. Thank you for allowing me to do that.

We'll talk about the Mexican restaurants another time.

July 19, 2010

The story of The Mixer

Katie is Peyton's friend.
Katie lives in Washington state.
Katie is married to Theo.
They have a daughter.
Her name is Bronwen.
Peyton has not seen Katie in four years.
They met for coffee this past Saturday.
Katie said, "I have something for you out in the car."
Katie is very crafty and enjoys making homemade things.
Peyton was expecting a homemade gift of sorts from Katie.
Perhaps Katie knit Peyton a scarf.
Or maybe Katie made Peyton some homemade pepper jelly.
Peyton was excited about her potential homemade gift from Katie.
They got out to Katie's car.
Katie handed Peyton a small gift bag.
Peyton pulled out its contents.
Peyton pulled out a giftcard for Bed, Bath, and Beyond.
Peyton thought this was random but was excited nonetheless.
Peyton started to say thank you.
"Thank you, Katie".
Peyton flipped the giftcard over.
The amount of $300 was written on the card.
Peyton's mouth dropped.
Peyton was speechless.
Peyton thought this was a mistake.
"Katie, is this a mistake?"
Katie was smiling.
"It's no mistake, Peyton. I really want you to have a Kitchenaide Stand Mixer."
Peyton was still speechless.
Peyton started to tear up.
"Are you freaking serious, Katie?"
"Yes! Go get one!"
"I can't believe this!"
Peyton hugs Katie.
Peyton hugs Katie again.
Another hug.
Last hug.
Peyton is ecstatic.
Peyton says thank you.
Peyton knows that 'thank you' is not adequate.
Katie and Peyton say goodbye.
Peyton floats to her car.
Peyton's car is set to auto-pilot.
Peyton's car heads to Bed, Bath, and Beyond.
By the time Peyton steps foot into the store, she has already called ten people and told them the story of the Kitchenaide Stand Mixer.
Peyton debates between boring stainless steel and vibrant, sassy empire red.
Peyton's sister-in-law convinces her that she is vibrant and sassy and that this needs to reflect in her choice of Kitchenaide Stand Mixers.
Peyton checks out with the empire red in hand.
Peyton puts the empire red Kitchenaide Stand Mixer in her car.
Peyton drives home.
Peyton sets up the empire red Kitchenaide Stand Mixer on her kitchen counter.
Besides the diamonds from Mark and her some of her grandmother's jewelry, Peyton decides it is her most prized possession.
Peyton calls Katie five times to say thank you five times more.
Peyton and her empire red Kitchenaide Stand Mixer live happily ever after.

July 16, 2010

Drunk Texting

I have a friend named Colleen. She's pretty freaking awesome. We have a lot of the same interests and because of this, we always have a great time when we hang out. She's a blogger too! http://www.wordmartini.wordpress.com/ is hers. We both love to write but she's a little more go-getter than I am with making it her profession. And here's some fun news for you: we'll be starting a blog together soon!

The title of the blog is Rotten Peaches and on it, we will discuss all things southern. We're both rotten Georgia peaches who have fallen pretty far from the beautiful peach orchards of southern charm and those perfect southern manners. We use Junior League as our cover-up. Just kidding about all that, really. Actually, we're both extremely genteel ladies who love to entertain and wear pearls and allow words like "y'all" to drip from our mouths like honey. We're pretty snarky though, us two, so it should make for a pretty funny blog. We'll be doing point/counterpoint on southern topics, we'll be interviewing yanks and making fun of them, we'll fondly recall southern pastimes each of us have enjoyed. It'll be a good time, y'all! More news on that to come.

So anyway, I threw a wine tasting party at my house last night for a bunch of Junior League ladies and some miscellaneous friends. Colleen was invited but wasn't able to come. We kept in touch through the night over text, though. What follows is our 2 1/2 hour long conversation and it's something to behold, people. Everything is copied word for word, punctuation for punctuation. I've added some notes in italics. This is what you can expect from the future writers of the Rotten Peaches blog. Are you ready for this? I don't think you're ready. You need to mentally prepare yourself for what you're about to read. Take a minute. Inhale, exhale. You ready? Ok, let's do this:

Colleen: 9:36 pm I'm there in thought! (Sends below picture.)










PeyPey: 9:40 pm Yeah right! We're twelve deep beeeaaahhh! (Translation: "We've all had 12 glasses each, bitch! Yeah, I know. Real classy, huh?)

Colleen: 9:41 pm Maaan. I don't want to hear from u tomorrow. I'm so f%$*king pissed I'm not there. My wine would have won. (Colleen says "f*^$" a lot. This is not very ladylike, Colleen. This is why Colleen is a rotten peach.)

Colleen: 9:44 pm I just reserved rottenpeaches on wordpress. Just in case.

PeyPey: 9:51 pm I would've given u the prize pot. U deserved it. :) (Clarification: I did not give away pot as a prize at my wine tasting party. Everyone brought 2 bottles of wine, one to taste, and the other went in the "prize pot". Whoever's wine was rated the highest took the prize pot home.)

Colleen: 9:59 pm Who won? For the record, I've had half a glass and just fell out of my chair. Hard.

Colleen: 10:02 Icing my injury. (Sends below picture.)










Colleen: 10:56 pm Go to bed.

PeyPey: 11:14 pm Ha ha! My friend Teri w/chateau ste. Michelle riesling & christina bock with pinot evil pinot noir won. Best. Time. Ever. Missed you!

Colleen: 11:15 pm I looooove chateau ste. michelle. F#$!ing f#$!. (Colleen. I'm going to rinse your mouth out with soap, missy.)

Peyton: 11:16 pm Haha watch it potty mouth! A good time for sure. U would've made it better tho. Ps-im drubkj. (Drunk.)

PeyPey: 11:16 pm What happened to ur wrist? (I apparently did not put two and two together when she said she fell out of her chair and then sent the picture of her icing her wrist with a bag of peas. I was drubkj.)

Colleen: 11:16 pm I'm totally dwelling on our blog.

Colleen: 11:17 pm I fell. Out of a chair. In my defense, it has wheels.

PeyPey: 11:17 pm Hahahahahahaahahahahahahahaahahahahhahahahahahahah (I have issues with being an excessive person.)

Colleen: 11:20 pm So. If we do this right, I really,really think we can do a bk proposal fr rp. (Colleen will obviously be the brains behind our rotten peach operation.)

PeyPey: 11:24 pm Fr rp?

Colleen: 11:25 pm For rotten peaches. Put in drunk contacs. Do u wrk tom?

PeyPey: 11:25 pm Oim drunbj remenber? (This is where it starts to head downhill. I apologize. Translation: I'm drunk remember?)

Colleen: 11:26 pm Have I ever told u I love u? I wld karaoke if I cld. (I'm not sure why karaoke was introduced into this texting conversation but I'm glad it made it in. I. Love. Karaoke.)

PeyPey: 11:28 pm Work. Everyfreakinday. Yes. i love u too. Coffee. Rotteen peach duscussiom over coffee soon yes?

Colleen: 11:31 pm Fuck that. Over booaze. With a camera. What is the internet? Not reality but... (I had no idea what Colleen meant by this text last night. I thought she was being philosophical and deep, so my response was...)

PeyPey: 11:36 pm Yes i agree. Im with 100%. Booaze. Sounds delish. (I now realize that she was saying "Fuck coffee. Instead of coffee, let's do a rotten peach discussion over boos and with a camera." I still am not sure about the whole internet part though.)

Colleen: 11:37 pm Whatever. Drubk. ;) I really missed the peypeyfood tonight.

PeyPey: 11:38 pm Imagine foos of the angels & tjat would be what i served #drunbk (And this is where we started talking in Twitter hashmarks.)

Colleen: 11:39 pm Wow. Huh? #arethereleftovers??

PeyPey: 11:44 pm Haha yes. Blue cheese biscuits, herbed cheese, rosemary skewers, but no wine. (I would like to point out here, that, when talking and texting about food, I made no typos or errors and was completely direct with the message I was trying to get across. #ilovefood.)

Colleen: 11:45 pm I have whiskey. Walk on over.

PeyPey: 11:46 pm Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Whiskey. My friwnd. (Translation: "Oh, whiskey, my friend." Whiskey, in all actuality, is not my friend.)

PeyPey: 11:47 pm Macon road is treacherous. #icantbelieveijusttypedtreacherouswhilstdrubkj (Translation: In order for me to have walked to Colleen's for whiskey drinks, I would have had to cross one of the busiest roads in my city. Also, I'd like to point out that that may be the longest hashmark in the history of hashmarks.)

Colleen: 11:53 pm Gold star. I have a guest room. Fornext time. Wanna see my new lr? (Clarification: Gold Star is a taxi service.)

PeyPey: 11:54 pm Lr? (Colleen frequently speaks in code. I like this about her.)

PeyPey: 11:55 pm Oh! Living room? YES! (It took me a minute, but I got it.)

Colleen: 11:57 pm (Sends below picture. I had no clue why she was sending me a picture of a liquor store last night. Now, I realize she was trying to be funny and was making a joke saying that this is her living room. Hardy har har.)











Colleen: 11:59 pm (Sends below picture of her actual living room. How this conversation resulted in us talking about living rooms, I am not sure.)














PeyPey: 12:00 am Nice lr. Retard. My eyea

Annnnnnnd, that's where it ended. I hope you've enjoyed this look into the drunk texting between Colleen and PeyPey. You can look forward to many more similar posts on http://www.rottenpeaches.wordpress.com/!

July 14, 2010

Pbay

I made my first-ever purchase on ebay today. Crazy, I know, considering the wondrous world of shopping that awaits at my finger tips. I'm not sure why I've never bought anything from there before, I just haven't. But holy freakin' moley. I feel like I just conquered the world with my purchase. Allow me to explain.

My laptop charger, well, Mark's laptop charger...wait, let me go back further.

I have no pets. Unless you consider the dust bunnies living under my couches, I have no pets. A few months ago, I discovered my laptop charger cord had been frayed. Let me be specific: it looked chewed upon. This frightened me a bit because, well, I have no pets. I didn't want to think about the possibilities and just decided to put all my faith in our coveralled bug man and his handy sprayer can thingy. I should note that this was an isolated incident. No other things have turned up with gnaw marks on them.

Back to my story...

Mark had an extra universal laptop charger that he let me have. He's always doing nice things like that. Have I ever mentioned that he paid to have the transmission in my car replaced a few years ago? Yeah, he loves me. Oh, wait! Hang on a second! I paid him back for that in full! All eighteen hundred dollars of it! Ehhh, oh well. He still loves me though.

Back to my story...

I've enjoyed Mark's charger for the last few months, until the other night. WHEN IT BLEW OUT OF MY WALL. My roommate and I were just sitting there, watching Harry Potter and giving each other tickly backscratches when something that sounded like a gunshot went off and a blast of red light was emitted from the wall socket to my right where the laptop charger was plugged. I took off running. I seriously thought someone was shooting at us. Catherine, laughing, said, "get-HAHA-back in-BAAAAHAHA-here, you-HEEEHEEEHAHAHAHA-idiot". She wouldn't stop laughing at me. It cut me deep.

Catherine reached down and picked up the sizzling charger and cord, a little hot to the touch, and said, "um, this just blew out of the wall." It had landed about four feet from where it was plugged into the wall. Please note, and offer up a prayer of thanksgiving: my laptop was not attached to the cord when it blew out of the wall. Noted? Good.

Being at home for the last three nights with no connection to my beloved internet has caused me to not do the following:
1. Facebook.
2. Blog.
3. Look up recipes. I had to make something from an actual hardback cookbook last night. It was weird. (The experience was weird, not the pancakes. That's what I made, pancakes. Are you even still reading this post? Hello? Anyone?)
4. Read Pioneer Woman Blog.
5. Play games on http://www.mindjolt.com/.
6. Facebook.
7. Watch Netflix movies.
8. Facebook.

I don't like the feeling.

So first I complained to Mark. I thought maybe he'd have another charger lying around. I also thought maybe he'd offer to buy one for me. He did no such thing. I was on my own. I don't like the feeling. So I set out to find the best priced laptop charger I could find. I checked walmart.com, target.com, officedepot.com, and finally bestbuy.com and the cheapest one I'd found was $75. By the time I got to bestbuy.com, I was ready to throw in the towel and just buy a whole new laptop. I'm not kidding. It made sense.

But I decided to sleep on it and complain to Mark a little more. The magical words "I'll take care of that for you, PeyPey" never left Mark's lips.

I was retelling (complaining about) the whole sordid mess to my coworker, Lance, this morning and his reply was simply, "why don't you check ebay?"

So I had him walk me through the process of starting an account on both ebay and paypal. We got through that part and I simply typed "laptop charger" in the search bar and...holy freakin' moley, people.

I conquered the world. I conquered the world with my $13.99, no shipping cost, 99% good seller feedback, ships from the U.S. purchase of a universal laptop charger. I really did feel like I was cheating in some way. I felt like I just discovered this secret realm or something. It was quite a splendid feeling.

A whole new world
A dazzling place I never knew
Unbelievable sights

Indescribable feeling
Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling
Through the endless ebay site!

I'll see you in 437 years, after I've seen all ebay has to show me!

July 13, 2010

Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Shoes

(I started this post on July 4th but because of my busy-ness (laziness), I'm just now getting around to finishing it.)

As I think about how many friends of mine have come and gone from deployment to deployment in various branches of the military, as I have to endure listening to my dad's Vietnam stories over and over again, as I go through old family photos and see my grandads in their uniforms, I am filled with thanksgiving for their sacrifice and the sacrifice of so many men and women who face scenarios on the front lines that I can't even begin to fathom. I am filled with gratitude for those who currently choose that career path and for those in the past who were called to the line of duty because of an enforced draft and who courageously left the comforts of home to travel to a foreign land.

Of course I am thankful for the sacrifice of so many. Of course.

But I would wager that I am not the only human being around to take my freedom and liberties for granted - freedom and liberties that have been fought hard for by my grandads, dad, friends. And I'm sorry I take them for granted, I am. But I can't imagine - literally, my mind won't go there - a world without freedoms.

I don't know what it's like to not be able to voice my opinion of our nation's leaders.

I have no clue how it feels to wear a veil over my face just because I am a woman.

I can't imagine how it would feel to want to leave my homeland and come to a foreign, peaceful, opportunistic country because my homeland is literally hopeless.

I know nothing of going hungry.

Or of having no shoes.

Or of living in filth.

Instead, I could say the rudest things about our nation's leaders, have it aired on any media outlet and not even get a 'tisk, tisk'.

I could wear daisy dukes and a halter top and go have lunch with my boyfriend.

I have every single opportunity in the world at my finger tips. I could be anything, do anything, and achieve any and every goal I set for myself.

Little Caesars $5 Hot & Readys are literally thirty seconds from my house. (I drive there.) I also spent a collected $80 on my dinner over two nights last week at fancy restaurants. Because I could.

You could walk a mile in my shoes, taking each step in a different pair.

I have dustbunnies under my couch and soap scum in my shower. But I have a bi-weekly bug man come spray my house.

I know nothing of being freedom-less and liberty-less, unless you consider the city-wide mandate of what days of the week I can water my lawn when we're in a draught.

I'm clueless.

Because of the sacrifices of so, so, so many brave men and women, for the 27th time in my life, I was able to spend my Fourth of July eating hamburgers and potato salad, swimming, and watching fireworks.

I am thankful for my cocoon of safety, shoes, and liberty. And I apologize for taking it all for granted.

July 3, 2010

My Inner Sanctum

What I am about to show you is considered one of the most personal things about a girl. Now men (if there are any of you), before you go clicking away without reading, I'll make the disclaimer that what I'm about to show you is not a body part, nor is it any type of monthly material us gals have to purchase for necessary reasons. Ok, this post is quickly going downhill. Let me fix that.

What I am about to show you is considered one of the most personal things about a girl. It is her purse. More specifically, it is the contents of her purse. It's pretty personal what we keep stuffed in the depths of our satchels. But today, I wanted to show you my purse and its contents in hopes that you will get to know me a bit better. And I promise it'll give you a few laughs.

Here's the purse:


It's a smooth, magenta leather (ok, it's probably pleather). It has the perfect amount of pockets and the strap is the perfect length. Although it matches only about 1/78th of my wardrobe, I wear it with anything and everything. People probably think I'm color blind, but I don't care. I got this purse on clearance at TJMaxx for ten bucks about a year ago and it's held up quite nicely.

Ok, so let's move on to its contents. I hope you won't judge me after seeing these pictures. I haven't cleaned out my purse in a good two plus months so I knew the findings would be a veritable treasure trove. I'll show you the group shot first and then zero in on a few things.


Just take a good look at everything. Sorry, I know the pics are fuzzy. Ok, let's zero in on a few specific items.


There's my Twilight Eclipse ticket from the other night. I'll be honest, the movie was just okay. I tried to read the first book but got so incredibly bored that I never finished. And I'm going to risk losing some readers here I'm sure, but ummm, Taylor Lautner, ladies? Yeah, NOT HOT. His face is weird to me. And I can never get past looking at his scwunched up face to check out the 24 pack that resides on his torso. Anyway, moving on.


Those right there are 40 watt decorative bulbs. Please don't ask me how long I've been carrying them around. I wouldn't be able to answer that question. Oh, and notice the silver and red thing next to the lightbulbs? That's a can opener. Just in case, you know?


Here's a wad of papers and napkins with some weird purple stuff on them.

Oh, and I can never be without PeyPey's Picante! This was leftover from my lunch a few weeks ago. Please don't judge me.


And finally, probably my favorite item that I pulled out of my magenta satchel was this:


That's right, it's RapidRise Yeast. Please, please, please, I beg you, please don't ask me why this was in there, how long it's been in there, where it came from, why it was in there, how old it is, why it was in there. BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW! I honestly have no recollection of stuffing that in my purse.

Among all of that stuff there was also a few batteries, a koozie from a wedding, three lipsticks, a tylenol bottle with one pill in it, a box of neon bandaids, some Pepto Bismal, and an iPod shuffle.

My life feels more free now that my purse is cleaned out. I have room to breathe. And I'm glad I shared this with you all, too. I definitely feel better about myself.

Thanks for stopping by!

July 2, 2010

I am who you want. In your kitchen.

The kitchen has become my creative outlet. My domestic realm. My haven. My stress reliever. Where fun finds me. I have been mildly obsessed with cooking, creating lately. When I'm at work, all I can think about is what I could be cooking. When I'm at a restaurant, my mind is filled with thoughts like, "I could so totally cook this at home". When I'm at the grocery store, I wander. I let my mind escape to the land of cooking creations. To say I love cooking is an understatement.

My times in the kitchen start something like this:


Whether it's a glass of wine, a beer, or a cocktail, my anxiety for the cuisine I'm about to create disapates when I get a little sweet nectar in me.

Some of my favorite items to create or recreate in the kitchen are those things you can easily buy on the shelf - those convenient things which were made popular when our mother's generation starting going to work: bread, dressings, sauces. It's so easy to just grab a loaf of bread or a bottle of Hunt's spaghetti sauce off Aisle 5. But at this time in my life, a time with no husband, no children, I want, I have a need  to recreate these things. Without the preservatives. Without the Xanthum Gum. I want to know exactly, exactly, what is in my food.

I realize not everyone has this privilege. I anticipate the time in my own life when I'll be so busy that I have to reach for the Nature's Own or Hidden Valley Ranch. But right now, making these things homemade is what I want for my life. And I do consider it a great privilege.

So after a second helping of my sweet nectar:


I go to work. Now, I must make the disclaimer that a lot of nights, I get home and eat noodles I've cooked in my electric kettle with a bit of pesto. But if it's a quiet night, if there's nothing on TV, if I have no other obligations, I'll tiptoe into the kitchen, pour me a glass of sweet nectar:



And go to town.

Last night, I felt like ranch dressing. (Disregard the word "healthy" on the side of this bottle because this dressing is anything but.)


People.

People.

You. Have. No. Idea. How good this tasted. I want to plan my meals around this dressing until I run out of it.

I took some dill and chives and chopped them up pretty fine. Then I took about 2 garlic cloves and tossed them into my garlic press and squeezed out a paste. I mixed all of these ingredients with about a cup of mayo and a cup of sour cream. Mix. Then I went out on a limb and squeezed in some lemon juice because I thought the mixture needed some "brightness". I don't know what this term means and how it relates to cooking, but it just sounded right. I told myself it needed brightness and the most logical thing was to add lemon juice. Am I crazy? Please don't answer that.

Then it needed some more chives. Chop chop chop. Chives in. Then it needed some "depth". Again, this is a word I probably heard on Top Chef or Iron Chef America and decided that it applied to my ranch dressing. I added fresh cracked pepper and a couple douses of hot sauce for "depth". Whisk. Pour in some whole milk to thin. Don't skimp here people. Ranch dressing is not supposed to be low-fat or fat-free or taste like cardboard. So just don't do that to it, okay? You promise? Whisk the whole milk in until smooth. Add whatever else it needs. A little salt maybe.

And then drench a salad in it. And I mean drench. Don't be shy.

And dream. Dream of ranch dressing rivers and crouton boats and cucumber floats. Just make sure your dream doesn't include you in a bikini. 'Cause that's not happening after you drink this dressing.

Oh! And P.S. - Since I have all this time on my hands, I went ahead and made some homemade croutons, taking some leftover olive foccacia bread I made last week and toasting the heck out of it. Mmmm mmmm good.

July 1, 2010

PeyPey, how DOESN'T your garden grow?

So you remember my garden, right?


There was so much promise there. So much new life. So much hope. So much green.

But see, there's this thing called water that plants need to grow, you've heard of it, right? Well, I guess I decided my special plant babies didn't need it. And so, the promise turned into a curse, the new life turned into death, the hope turned into despair, and the green turned into brown. Please don't judge me. I really am a good person, I promise. 

I decided that I couldn't live my life one minute longer without any green, so on my way home from work today, I stopped by the neighborhood hardware store to stock up. I'm all about helping out the little man, so I opted to go to a local dig instead of a big chain. Whereas the first time I started with little seed babies that grew into little plant babies, this time, I started with plant teenagers. As in, some of my plants actually ALREADY HAD VEGETABLES ON THEM! Yeah, I know. Get excited. 

So here's some pics:
 
   
Check out my cute gloves:
First in the line up are dahlias and some kind of pretty perennial. Flowers make me happy.

Next up is mint, cilantro, and sweet basil.
   
Next is a cubanelle pepper, "Chilly chili, an ornamental pepper, and rosemary.
   
I'm kind of obsessed with the Chilly Chili.
Okay, last one, I promise.
After that is cherry tomatoes, cayenne peppers, and hot bananas peppers.

These would be plant teenagers, right?
   

Oh and just while we're at it, I'll give you a little tour of my outdoor space. Look! Here's our Christmas tree! We thought one of boyfriends had taken care of it and taken it to one of those recycling places back in DECEMBER, but when it started getting warmer outside, we started noticing a very distinct pine scent. We finally found the culprit. One of boyfriends had wedged it between our holly tree and camelia bush. Isn't it lovely?


And here's my hippie roommate's tangled wind chimes.


Oh! And lordy, what is this? Theee-yus riiiiite heeerah iz mah lay zee boyh. Eeeeyun mah carhporrt.


I like to have my coffee in the mornings, sitting in my lazboy, gazing at my container garden. It's the life I always wanted.


And look! It's got a phone inside the armrest! You wish you had one, I know you do.


Now people, you don't believe me, do you? Well, I do, in fact, have a recliner in my carport, but will I be redeemed in your eyes if I tell you I'm giving it to my chapter of the Junior League as part of my rummage for the Attic Sale? Because that's what I'm doing.

Although, I'm considering having a cup of coffee in my lazboy tomorrow morning, gazing at my garden. It's the life I always wanted.

Thank God for Camera Phones

Oh my gosh! I almost forgot to tell you (show you rather)! I had the amazing, one of the best, random moments of my life, holy crap I can't believe I got to witness this opportunities in the Target parking lot yesterday. I know you'll relish in the WOW factor of this with me. Because we're friends. And you'll think this is funny because I think it's funny. Sorry, there comes that little need to be validated again. Okay, please tell me you're ready to eat your heart at the deliciously random picture below. Because if you're not, you just need to click the big "X" in the top right hand corner of this page. You won't be the same after this, I promise. Your life will be forever changed. Okay, okay. I'll shut up now. Please scroll down slowly, though, to get the full affect. You should be able to decipher what this is, and if not, go browse around Wal-Mart's lingerie section for a sec. Thank you and enjoy:





















I have so much to tell you!

Not really. I go through spurts in which I have an idea for a new blog post every .678423 milliseconds. But then I have times when I just got nothing. I guess you could call it "blog block". You know, kinda like writer's block? Say it. It's fun. Kinda like that Arrested Development episode where the family hires Scott Baio as their new attorney and his name is Bob Loblaw. Say it. It's fun. Sounds like blah blah blah, doesn't it? Man I love that show. And Jason Bateman. I would have his babies. Sorry, what? Where was I again?

Ah yes, blog block. I've had a terrible case of it this week.

And although there are some post ideas a-brewin' in this messed up mind of mine, I'm just going to give you a short quip today. If you'll recall, I've been your personal disc jockey over the last few months, keeping you abreast on what's been playing on Whistling Billy Bob's, All Whistle, All the Time, Radio Show. If you have not met Billy Bob before, click here, which pretty much sums it all up. Ok, so here we go...

In my best announcer voice: "Coming to you live from the ABCDEFG Studios in sunny PeyPeyLand, iiiiiiittttt'sssss the Whistling Billy Bob's, All Whistle, All the Time, Radio Show!!!! Special guests today include Sarah McLachlin, The Pussycat Dolls, and the Plain White T's among others! Take it away Billy!!!!"

Okay, okay, enough silliness. I'll just give you a list. Because I'm good at that. List skills: I gots 'em. And please note that the list corresponds to the order in which these were whistled.

1. In the Arms of the Angel by Sarah McLachlin,
2. The Indiana Jones Theme Song composed by John Williams (I can't get this one out of my head),
3. Don't You Wish Your Girlfriend Was Hot Like Me by The Pussycat Dolls,
4. Seventy Six Trombones from the musical The Music Man composed by Meredith Willson,
5. One of Billy Bob's everyday favorites: Jingle Bells (I hear it no less that 5 times a day. Everyday.)
6. Jingle Bells segways nicely into Hey There Delilah by the Plain White T's, don't you think?
7. And finally, The William Tell Overture composed by Gioachino Rossini.

That's all just from 8 a.m. through noon, people. The afternoon segment is sure to be a crowd pleaser.

I know you don't care one iota about any of this, but I think it's funny the things that come out of his mind and are subsequently blown through his lips. Wow. What? That just sounds gross, doesn't it? My apologies.

In hopes that you'll still love me and want to come back here later, I have a pretty darn good post planned. So stay tuned. And I apologize if you have any of the above songs stuck in your head now. Just don't go whistling them around the office. You never know who could write a satirical blog post about you!