Caustic Brownies

We went to BIL/W's (G's bro and sis in law's) new house last night for dinner because we couldn't find a good way to get out of it. This was the second time they invited us. We couldn't go to the first shindig because we were already going to Miss Ali's first birthday party and told them so. I don't think they believed us because they made some snarky comments to G's mom about our not bending over backwards to see their monument to excess, I mean, their new house. Whatever. Then there was the debate about why it's not exactly convenient for us to go up there.

The seem to like the idea of Sunday night dinners. Swell. There are lots of problems with this plan of theirs. First, they live 40 miles north of us and we have no reason to make the drive on Sunday nights. Second, we would just as soon stay home on Sunday evenings unless there is something we really want to do or someone we really want to see. Third, I don't always enjoy their company. Despite all of this, we went, even though we knew we would have our noses rubbed in how they own a house and we don't. It's a beautiful house, but it's not very warm and seems to act like there aren't small kids living there.

It was the whole family: BIL/W and 4 of their 5 kids (the eldest lives out of town with her fiance), G's parents, and G's sister (who has the same name as I do -- which makes things like sending e-mail to G's mom a bit confusing for her). It was fine. Dinner was fine. Conversation was fine, notwithstanding people's efforts to one up each other. I ducked out of that, choosing instead to discuss soap operas with W. It could have been way worse.

Then it was time for dessert. W made brownies: caramel/pecan topped ones for the grown ups and plain ones for the kids. I took a bite and it was pretty tasty, but then I felt this weird burning in the back of my throat. One doesn't expect that from baked goods. Did someone accidentally spill in some bleach? Or cayenne pepper? G's sister finally asks about the burning in her throat. I finally went and asked W about the burning issue, after first complimenting her cooking because I'm all about making nice with the in-laws. She said she used spiced pecans. Hmmmm. Chocolate and spicy.* It might have been nice to have been warned about this, rather than worrying that I had been poisoned. But then W is a big fan of mixing things up, like the Thanksgiving she made "savory stuffing" with too many ingredients or last year when she hosted Christmas dinner and neglected to remove the string from the roast beef. I guess she thought we needed some fiber...

The benefit of dinner on a Sunday night was that it was a short evening. On the way home, we stopped at In n Out Burger for shakes and fries because he thought I needed a treat. God, I love him.

*Alton Brown puts some cayenne in his hot cocoa mix, but only a pinch. Of course, he also explains why. And he's just cool. W, not so much.

Oh My Eyes

Yesterday, G and I went to lunch at a place that could never be mistaken for a health food restaurant given that they make buffalo wings, cheesesteaks, fish and chips, and homemade potato chips. Yum on all accounts. So anyway, we were finishing up when this young lady comes into the place to grab a soda and G says to me "Jen, look at her outfit."

She was fairly tall and was probably a size 8, but I guess she doesn't like to wear the correct size. I present you with her outfit: pink cropped turtleneck sweater (long-sleeved) and a lace-trimmed, denim mini skirt.

What is the problem, you ask. Well, I'll tell you. I think the skirt was about two sizes two small. As a result, whatever extra amounts there were of her were squished up above the waistband into the space left vacant by the short sweater. It made me think of the chiffon-covered sausage casing that Anonymous Coworker described a few days a go. In fact, I was so mesmerized by the lumpy midriff, that I forgot to check out her shoes and I always check out the shoes. What's particularly sad is that had her clothes actually fit, we wouldn't have noticed her at all.

Is That a Malfoy in Your Pocket?

Or are you just happy to see me?

Uncle Jeff sent me this today. I can't wait until November 18.

Because I Am Still 12

This makes me unreasonably happy:

GH LOVES THE '80S Here's a blast from the past: "Jessie's Girl" rocker Rick Springfield returns to General Hospital as Dr. Noah Drake on Dec. 2. Last seen in 1983, Noah returns for about four episodes to help Dr. Robin Scorpio (Kimberly McCullough) treat her ex-boyfriend Jason's (Steve Burton) brain damage. No doubt he'll also reminisce with Nurse Bobbie (Jackie Zeman) about their long-ago romance. “I guess there was a reason why they didn't kill Noah off in the ‘80s," Springfield cracks. "This should be fun. I’m looking forward to it.”

--tvguide.com

Of course, if the powers that be are good to me, I will have to tivo those episodes because some kindhearted soul will actually see fit to give my sorry ass (and the rest of me) a job.

The Second Funniest Thing My Mom Ever Said

I was chatting with my brother this afternoon, when he reminded me of yet another funny quote from my mom. Strangely enough, she said it maybe an hour after my dad died and it was totally unintentional, but I guess we needed a good giggle.

So anyway, we were leaving the hospital since we had all been there to say goodbye and as we were walking out we passed this woman. There she was in all her glory: overly teased and peroxided blond hair and ginormous, surgically enhanced boobs. They were pushed up higher than any wonderbra could ever think of putting them. So anyway, because I am 12, I exclaimed "oh my god, look at her boobs!" My poor mom apparently wasn't paying attention because she said "well, you should ask her where she got them."

Mom thought I had said boots.

The Funniest Thing My Mom Ever Said

This is a true story.

About six weeks before my dad died, my mom was diagnosed with colon cancer and had surgery to remove part of her colon. Once she recovered from surgery, she began chemotherapy. She was 58 at the time.

I promise, I'll get to the funny part. I just wanted to give some context.

So anyway, I went down to LA to be with my dad when he passed and then to help my mom go through and clean out their apartment. A few days after he died, my mom and I were sitting in her living room, taking a break from looking for insurance policies and other important papers when she looked at me and said the following:

Now that your father is gone, I just want to let you know that I'm not going to take this as an opportunity to be come promiscuous.

I fell off my chair laughing. I guess is was the outlet I needed. I think she was surprised that I found it so funny, but at least my hysterical laughter made her laugh, so that's not a bad thing, right?

Call Me Suzie Homemaker

Well, not really. That would suggest that my house is neat and anyone who has ever seen where I live knows that I am not good with the neat.

But since I am still doing the stay at home mom thing, I have a lot of time on my hands, but not as much as you would think. I basically have to fit things in between times Bug eats, complains because she's stuck on her tummy and can't roll over, wants attention, and falls asleep on me. Don't get me wrong, I love it when she falls asleep on me -- it's so very cozy. But it also means that I can't move for fear of waking her.

Yesterday, I made pot roast. The solution for entertaining Bug -- bring her bouncy seat into the kitchen and let her watch. Ok, so what is she had to endure the cursing during the onion chopping portion of the program (I hate chopping onions and the resulting burning of the eyes). The resulting dinner was worth it, though. Mmmm pot roast. It was nice to have something that was outside of the regular rotation.

I think my George Foreman grill died. Yes, I own one, deal with it. The upshot, of course, is that now I can go out and get the one with grill plates that go in the dishwasher. Woo hoo. This is a very good thing because I think this one died from drowning in the sink.

There is still no progress on the job front. I finally got the last of the outstanding ding letters. Interestingly enough, they said they didn't want me because I had "too much legal experience." A girl just can't win. So I keep looking. It really shouldn't be this hard to find a job, should it?

In other news, Bug's second tooth has popped through (ouch for mommy) and I think she has figured out she's ticklish. This means that I have a guaranteed way to make her giggle, which is the best sound in the entire world.

Home From Paradise

Bug and I spent a lovely 2 days on Kauai for XT's wedding. She couldn't have picked a more stunning spot for the festivities -- sunset on the beach in Princeville, with Bali Hai in the background. And she looked exquisite. It's so wonderful to see her so happy. She has earned it.

Tel was there and Al flew in from New York, so we all got to hang out together. It was loads of fun. I only wish that Bug and I could have stayed longer, but we had a budget, so there you go. Bug was an incredibly good sport for the flights and for everything, actually. I don't really recommend traveling alone with an infant, but it's definitely something I could do. And I wasn't about to miss XT's wedding. I even got to walk down to the wedding carrying Bug (there wasn't really anyone else there to hold her for me), so she got to participate as well in her very cute orange and pink Hawaiian print dress.

The only downside of traveling to Hawaii is coming home covered in insect bites. But it was so worth it.

Please Stop Already

Like Tel, I can't stand Rachael Ray and her never-ending perkiness. First, she hosts some 4 different shows on the Food Network. Then, I read that she's getting her own magazine. And now this? Per tvguide.com, she's getting her own talk show. Thanks for nothing, Oprah.

Overexposed much?

Scary Stuff

G sent this to me yesterday. If someone did this in my house, I think I would have a heart attack and die. But that's just me. And G.