Never enough pink

Here's my new pink desk that I bought from the perverted garage sale man.

(I know. It's a slow news day in my otherwise facsinating life.)

Lazy Sunday afternoon...

Here we are watching crappy Christmas movies on Lifetime while Mommy cooks, does laundry, and cleans the house.

Nothing like a stogie to repair an injured shouldy.

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We went garage saling this morning. It comes naturally to both of us because our mothers are both garage sale fanatics.

I bought a very cute pink school desk - will post a picture. I bought it from a man who also was selling porn. Is it me, or is that just wrong? Who sells porn at a garage sale? Better yet, who buys porn at a garage sale? Now that I think about it, I could have done a little Christmas shopping for my brothers. Hmm...wonder if he'll put stuff out tomorrow?

Iris said she's never seen porn stuff for sale at a garage sale.

My mother said if she's ever seen it she probably didn't realize what it was. Riiiiiiiight.

Didn't mention yesterday...

Yesterday Robin asked me not to include the following in my blog. Today she changed her mind and insisted that this was the best part of the Thanksgiving fiasco. For me, nothing beats Scott scooping out the pumpkin pie with a turkey bone.

So when the 3 Stooges arrive at Iris' house, Gail and Scott immediately came into the kitchen. They huddled together in a corner, not thinking anyone was paying attention. Of course, my nosey ass was pretending not to notice what was going on, but I was definitely paying attention. Scott gave her a handful of Percocets and told her he gets 500 of them a month - Enjoy!

Ironically, Robin and I were going to do an experiment. I still have most of my pain pills leftover from my finger ordeal (I'm a drinker, not a popper). We were going to leave the bottle laying around on Thanksgiving to see which one would take the pills. Joke's on me if he gets 500 a month.

A couple years ago I had a thing when I thought I was having a brain aneurism. Long story short, I got a prescription for migraines and when Robin's sister came over, she stole them. The next time she came over, I put ALLI in the pill bottle and she took them too!!!

Another Heartwarming Family Thanksgiving....

The following events are true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. Or, in this case, the real people.

Robin's sister, "Gail", always makes their mother invite her best friend and her best friend's husband to the family functions. We'll call them "Scott and Mary". About an hour before we're all supposed to be at Joe and Iris' house (real names, but you knew that), Gail called Iris to say that Scott and Mary weren't coming because they were fighting. The table had been set since Wednesday and now Joe had to redo it since there were two fewer people coming.

The two old ladies, "Abby and Sharon" arrived right on time. Robin and I went outside to help them in. Abby's glasses fell off her head as she got out of the car. I picked them up and handed them to her. There was something on top of her ear that appeared to be a plastic part of her glasses. I pulled on it and her entire head of hair moved. It was really a bobby pin holding a wig in place. Oopsy!

Then we got the old gals inside and Joe was sputtering and resetting the table. Scott and Mary were coming afterall. Oh goody.

I went to the patio to look for a huge lizard that hangs out near their house (and to get away from everyone). Sharon came out there after me, took my hand, looked me straight in the eye, and asked, "How are you getting along?", as if I had a terminal disease or something. "Oh, I'm hanging in there, you know, one foot in front of the other". I had no idea what the hell she was talking about.

We were supposed to eat at 5:00. At 6:20, Gail, Scott and Mary show up. All three of them were as high as a kite. Mary walked in and yelled, "Better late than never!!!" while Scott entertained us about the Walmart pharmacist who didn't wash in hands after holding his pecker in his hands in the bathroom.

We finally sat down to eat and Scott immediately fell asleep. Mary kept yelling at him to open his effing eyes.

Abby spilled cranberry sauce all over herself and wanted to get up to clean it off. Sharon was blocking her in and refused to move. Then she started yelling at her for being so clumsy.

Someone tracked something in and the floor was a mess. This sent Joe into orbit.

But the grand finale of the entire day was when I was at the sink scraping food into the disposable. It was right before dessert. I was setting the turkey bones aside to throw into the garbage. Scott came up beside me, took a turkey bone, sucked it clean and then began scooping out the pumpkin pie with the bone and eating it. Repeat.

Happy Thanksgiving Eve to Me!

So, we went to Robin's mother's house earlier to pick up the ingredients for the stuffing that Robin offered to make. No no no. Iris was going to make it and bought all the ingredients. She then told Robin to just go ahead and make it. Rather than buy all the ingredients all over again, Iris insisted that we drive up there to get them from her. It's normally a 30 minute trip, give or take, but with today's traffic, it took almost an hour to get there.

Iris offered Robin bread crumbs. Robin's response, "We've got some".
Iris offered Robin broth. Robin's response, "We've got some".
Iris offered Robin raisins. Kim's response, "Don't you dare". I hate raisins.

A few more things were offered and declined and the only thing we left with was the remainder of Craisin (dried cranberries) bag with about 8 Craisins in it. Somebody "got in to them a little".

We have always gone to Iris and Joe's for Thanksgiving. We go to my parents' for Christmas. The average age of the guests at Thanksgiving (and all the Jewish holidays) is around 106. There's the four of us, Robin's sister, her best friend and husband, her step brother and his significant other.

In the aforementioned list of people, there are three alcoholics (not including me, thank you very little), two pill poppers, a gay male couple whose age difference is 47, and Joe who continuously keeps a watchful eye on the floor in case someone drops a crumb. If, God forbid, someone does drop a crumb on the floor, Joe becomes a mental patient and shames the crumb dropper by announcing to the entire table that So and So dropped a crumb. Then he precedes to get up, get a broom and dustpan, and then cleans up the mess. The entire time Iris is yelling, "Joe. Relax. it's just a crumb. We'll get it later".

I did the math. 9 people are going.

So why were there 11 settings at the table? While Robin was yelling at Iris for eating all the Craisins, I rudely had to ask, "Who's going to be here tomorrow?"

In addition to all of the above, there was going to be an old family friend, a very nice lady who is also a Holocaust survivor.

And Shirley.

I don't know really who the hell Shirley is or how she fits in with this group. All I know is that I met her once at some type of dinner at Iris and Joe's. I always sit next to Joe (he makes me) and she was on the other side of me. Joe made a comment about how no one wil go hungry tonight, referring to the ton of food. Shirley leaned over me and said to Joe, "I don't think she's (me) ever gone hungry".

THEN, Robin had to squeeze by Shirley and gently touched her back in an excuse me style manner and Shirley began screaming, "My back! My back!"

So yeah, Shirley will be there tomorrow. Can't wait.

Oy!

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Santa

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Robin & her new car

She got a 2008 Toyota Scion with fewer than 6000 miles on it. Very cute car!

The day was surprisingly painless and uneventful. The only embarassing thing was when Joe, in his very think Polish accent, began arguing with the ever patient salesman about the spare tire being a donut and not a real tire. Some of you know this already - Joe and his sister survived the Holocaust.

Notice the picture with all the people in it - see the man in the background? My mother said it looks like he's peeing in the bushes. Leave it to her to notice that.

Which is worse?

Which is worse - spending an entire day with used car salesmen or having your fingernails ripped out?

Tough call...

I know! Spending the entire day with car salesmen WITH your fingernail ripped out WITH your in-laws!!!!

Which is exactly what we're gonna do tomorrow. They just got back from NC and want to spend the day with us. We tried telling them that this is what we need to do and they offered to "come along - it'll be fun!".

I'm going to bed now because, God knows, tomorrow can't get here soon enough.

Come on -

Don't act surprised.

You knew it was coming.

You knew I'd take a picture sooner or later.

Hell and back

This is a picture of the devil in hell. He is located at 12996 West Dixie Highway in North Miami, FL. I visited him (aka "Dr. Clifford" - pfft) today. Dr. Clifford was so nice and sweet and caring just 2 days ago. He gave me nerves blocks between my fingers and he warned me that it would hurt - it did. When he removed my fingernail, he warned me that it would later throb like hell - it did. Today, he as he removed the bandage, he told me it would hurt - it did.

Then the devil doctor advised me to soak it in hot water with Epson salt, AS HE BEGAN JABBING MY USED TO BE CUTICLE WITH A SHARP INSTRUMENT!!!!

Oh. My. God.

It was literally as if the bastard was stabbing an open flesh wound. Seriously, that's exactly what it was like.

And he told me that I had to do this to myself at least once a day.

Riiiight. I might as well set my cooch hair on fire while I'm at it.

SOMEBODY'S enjoying her pain killers!!!

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Queen of Utter Pain

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My first surgery!

I went to my doctor yesterday morning due to my severe tragic fingernail mutilization. She immediately referred me to an orthopedic surgeon and he performed my very first surgery. I am recovering nicely, mostly thanks to Percocet. I may never be able to work again because I cannot type. Oh wait. I'm typing this. I may never be able to work again becaaauuussse...I'll think of something.

In lieu of cards, candy and flowers, donations can be made to my favorite cause - The Kim E. Frasier Foundation c/o Bank of America.

CHA CHIIIINNNGG!!!

I mean --- Thank you in advance for your most generous contribution.

Can't believe I missed one!! And I'm a fan of hers too!

Wanda Sykes has come out of the closet and is proudly stating that she is, indeed, "proud to be gay."

The acclaimed comedienne and star of the CBS sitcom, 'The New Adventures of Old Christine,' spoke her truth during a gay rights rally in Las Vegas on Saturday.

Due to ongoing, relentless, writhing in pain agony in my finger, today's blog will be short. This is it.

And yes. I am fully aware that I could be in the hospital like Elliot or in a crate like Maxx.

PS: Not to be left out, Robin wants you to know she has ovary pain. She doesn't even know what an ovary is. She thinks it's something you wash you face with.

This is Joe, Robin and Iris. Robin is the one with the nose ring. Iris took hers out. Joe, who is a little man and well in to his 80's, had a total knee replacement last year. Suffice it to say, he was a handful. Iris wanted to run away from home because he was so difficult. He is currently having pain in that knee. Iris kept telling him he's fine and to be quiet. After about a week of his relentless moaning and groaning, Nurse Ratched decided to take him to the doctor so he could be told he's fine and to shut up.

Come to find out, last year the doctor replaced his little knee with a huge ginormous knee fit for a football player.

One would think that Iris, at this point, would be eating crow and making the necessary surgical arrangements for her beloved Joey, right?

Au contraire...Iris has informed Joe that he needs to live with his big watermelon knee and understand that under no circumstances whatsoever will he ever - EVER - undergo another surgical procedure. Never. Never ever.

I'm gonna lose it.

My middle nail on my right hand, that is. I smashed it while closing the dryer door on Wednesday and the nail bent all the way backward. It's like a loose tooth now and has been oozing stuff for 4 days and throbbing to beat the band and now the entire fingertip is turning color. I have spent the last hour and a half online trying to figure out what to do. The best I can come up with is pricking it with a sterilzed needle to relieve the pressure.

Um? I don't think so. I'd rather just complain about the pain and let Robin think that I'm gonna get RSD.

Speaking of Robin...she just a announced that she has a sore throat and it must be PMS. She must have some pretty big ovaries.

Owwwww...this typing is making me weak. I feel lightheaded. I'm dizzy. Think I'm gonna faaaaiiiinnnnn....

Hey! Will I save 10% at my next manicure? Times are tough. $2.00 will buy Robin 40% of a pack of cigarettes.

PS: After reading this, Robin told me that people are going to think that those are my nails. They're not. They're her mama's. (Joke - hers are more like claws. I hope Iris never gets a computer!)

This is exactly why I didn't run this year.

Third Man Dies After NYC Marathon

NEW YORK (Nov. 14) - New York City Marathon officials say a 41-year-old man who collapsed during the race has died.
Race organizer New York Road Runners says the man died on Thursday in a New York City hospital. The group did not identify him.
This is the third death connected to the Nov. 2 marathon.
A 58-year-old Brazilian man died of a heart attack shortly after crossing the finish line. Another man died several hours later.

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Can't spell VICKY without ICKY

I spend my Saturday mornings getting up early and watching "The Biggest Loser" that I tivo'd on Tuesday. It usually inspires me to hop on my dreadmill and get it over with before Robin even gets up.

I am fully aware that there are three sides to every story, but what the hell did Phil do to Vicky? Of all the reality crappy TV shows I have ever watched, I have never ever disliked anyone as much as I dislike Vicky. (Kellie Pickler comes in second.) I have disliked her from the very beginning and didn't even know why. Now I do. I feel really mad right now. It's stupid and it could be that they told them to shake things up a bit (like my mother suggested), but I seriuosly think that if I could, I would reach through the TV and slap her. And then, when her husband got the boot (beautiful move, Amy), next week's preview shows her threatening revenge?

Oh hell no.

Just had to vent.

In the time that it took me to write all this, I could have been on the dreadmill.

HALLELUJAH!!!!!!!!!

It's almost 7:00 p.m. and Robin is still working. I, on the other hand, have goofed off all day and played on my blog. Just as the office phone was ringing, she literally said, "I effing LOVE working at home. I shoulda done this a year ago".

(She didn't say effing...she said the real thing...I'm a lady and don't swear - much).

Bailey & Buddy

As I mentioned earlier, today Bailey would have turned 13 years old. We lost her to cancer on 04/07/08 and I miss her every day. Not knowing Buddy's true date of birth, we celebrate his birthday today too.

Buddy is the sweetest and most sensitive dog I have ever known. He's also very quirky. In October of 1999, we had to put Spanky, my ten year old cocker spaniel to sleep. Bailey was 3 at the time and she was incredibly depressed. About a month later, while visiting some friends in the country, Buddy appeared out of nowhere. It was about as fateful a meeting as you can possibly get. We had just decided that it was time to get another dog for Bailey and there he was. My friend said he had been running around the area for quite some time. She wanted to feed him, but her husband wouldn't let her because they'd already taken in enough strays. I slapped my hand against my thigh, said, "Come here, Buddy", and that's all she wrote.

That's all I'm gonna write too cuz you're probably bored.

Ta ta

WTH?

This is Robin's way of cutting back...reusing gum.

With cigarettes being almost $5.00 a pack, I can think of other ways to cut back.

Let's see ... $5 x 3 x 365 = $5475.00 per year.

Maxxi Pad

Many of you know that Maxx was attacked by Bodi on Wednesday morning. He suffered a broken leg and is quite shaken up, but he is OK. We brought him home from the hospital last night. He has to stay put in a crate for a couple of weeks so the leg can heal.

BTW - Bailey would have been 13 today. Since I don't know Buddy's true birthday, we've always celebrated it on this date. I think some dog treats are in their future. We'll tell Maxx they're for him.

Chicken and Perfect Little Dumplins

It's ironic that I, who until recently thought that green olives actually grew with the little red pimentos in them, am posting recipes. Might wanna check the weather report, but I think maybe hell really did freeze over.

Anywho...

I'm not much of a measurer. I used chicken and broth, but my secret to the dumplings is using a can of reduced fat croissants - the kind you whack with a spoon to open. I cut each croissant in to 5 pieces, roll them in flour, and throw them in the mix. And - Voila - perfect little dumplins - like me. (Ok, I went too far. I do that sometimes. Frequently. A lot. All the time.)

Did you know?

Robin used to eat hibiscuses (the spelling is correct - I did my homework) as a kid? Whenever we walk by one, I ask her, "Hungry?"

I took this picture at her mom's house - psycho serial voice to victim, "Prriiittttyyyy".

BTW, for fun, I like to go up to people I don't know well and gently touch their forearm as I stare at it and cock my head and say, "Priiiitttttyyyyy".

Good times.

Things really do happen in three's...

Today I learned:

1) Young Alex (18 years old) has joined an intense boot camp type training. She couldn't feel her legs this morning and she also fell off the toilet.

2) Robin's not so young mother, Iris, has joined a Jazzercise class at the local Jewsish Community Center. She said she moved circles around those Jewish geriatrics.

3) "Somebody" has secretly decided to go on a diet. Don't worry, Mary's twin, your secret is safe with me. ;)

PS: Do you how hard it was capturing this picture at exactly 1:23?

Q. What is the difference between Veterans Day and Memorial Day?

A. Many people confuse Memorial Day and Veterans Day. Memorial Day is a day for remembering and honoring military personnel who died in the service of their country, particularly those who died in battle or as a result of wounds sustained in battle. While those who died are also remembered on Veterans Day, Veterans Day is the day set aside to thank and honor ALL those who served honorably in the military - in wartime or peacetime. In fact, Veterans Day is largely intended to thank LIVING veterans for their service, to acknowledge that their contributions to our national security are appreciated, and to underscore the fact that all those who served - not only those who died - have sacrificed and done their duty. A complete history of Veterans Day, and why it is observed on November 11, can be found on the Veterans Day History Web page.

BAKED SPAGHETTI CARBONERA

I made this yesterday and it's my new favorite meal...It's a Weight Watchers recipe that I altered. Instead of using an 8 oz box of whole wheat spaghetti, I used the whole box, which is something like 13.5 oz. I then followed the recipe, timings everything by 1.5. Except for the turkey bacon. The original recipe called for 4 slices, 1.5 would be 6 slices, butIusedthewholepackage. (What? It's turkey bacon.)

Oh, and I used a 13 x 9 casserole dish.

Oh yeah, and I added about a half a cup (or so) of reduced fat Parmesan cheese. (Have you met me? My name is Kim. I don't make anything that doesn't involve extra cheese. Or hot sauce).

Oh yeah, I added a dash (or so) of hot sauce.


Here's the original --

Ingredients:

8 oz uncooked whole-wheat spaghetti (do it my way)
4 slice(s) uncooked turkey bacon, diced (do it my way)
2 medium leek(s), chopped (white parts only) (x 1.5)
3 medium garlic clove(s), minced (x 1.5)
1 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp table salt
1/4 tsp black pepper, freshly chopped
1 1/4 cup(s) fat-free skim milk (x 1.5)
1 cup(s) fat-free egg substitute (x 1.5)
1/4 tsp garlic powder
1/4 tsp onion powder
1/4 cup(s) grated Parmesan cheese (I mixed mine in with eggs & milk)


Instructions:

Preheat oven to 375ºF.


Cook spaghetti according to package directions (without added oil); drain and transfer to a 9-inch, deep-dish pie plate. (or 13 x 9 dish)


Meanwhile, cook bacon in a nonstick skillet over medium-high heat until golden brown, about 3 minutes. Add leeks and garlic; cook 2 minutes. Stir in oregano, salt and pepper; cook 1 minute. Spoon bacon mixture evenly over spaghetti in pie plate.


In a medium bowl, whisk together milk, egg substitute, garlic powder and onion powder; pour over spaghetti mixture and sprinkle with cheese.


Place pie plate on a baking sheet and bake until filling is set and top is golden brown, about 25 to 30 minutes. Cool slightly before slicing into 6 pieces. Yields 1 piece per serving. (mine made 8, which, I know, shoulda made 9 - who's counting?)

Today...I am a Hero

I woke up at around 3:00 this morning to an odd noise. At first, it seemed like it was the neighbor's sprinkler system. Or something. It was a short cracking noise that quickly disappeared. It then reappeared and disappeared, then more and more frequently. Then it got louder and didn't disappear. I sat up, fully awake, and saw A FLAME shooting from the extension cord that held the TV and my make up mirror. I screamed, "FIIIIRRRRRE!" and Robin woke up. I always always always go to bed with a huge glass of diet soda and I doused the flame with the ginger ale. It came back and by this time I'd filled the glass with water. Doused it again and the flame went away, but the crackling didn't. Not sure what to do, we kept saying to each other, "What do we do?" It's like we were standing around waiting for an explosion. Finally, I got a towel for Robin and she unplugged the cord. Never really having been involved in a situation like this, we weren't positive that she wouldn't be shocked - or worse.

OK. Maybe she's the hero. We've already discussed it. But I heard it first.

We have a bunch of animals and have to keep 2 kitties in the bedroom full time. They are happy kitties. No need to call PITA. Maxx, who Bodi wants to eat, spends a good deal of time in there, too. We are pretty sure that one of them had an accident on the extension cord that triggered the whole thing.

I am so thankful to God today. Other than sleeping, I am never in the bedroom. Not only were we home, but we were in that room and the noise woke me up. Being a pretty sound sleeper, that in itself is a miracle.

In all seriousness, it was kinda scarey. And it's extremely scarey to think what could have happened had we not been home, in that room, awake. I don't care about my stuff, just the animals.

Think I'll make some homemade dog treats today. And maybe a lil sumpin sumpin for the kitties, too.

Highlight of the Day!

In the middle of an exciting day of moving (don't be jealous), Robin was called to court for an emergency hearing. Kyle and I went along for the ride (and a break). We waited in the car and as I was texting a friend, I looked up to see this. That's downtown Miami for you.

Wonder what today will bring?!

Oh, and in case you're wondering? I didn't let this beautiful artistic photography go to waste. I made it my friend Alex' ringtone.

BITTERSWEET

Today is the big day. We're closing the office and moving it home. It's sad to do, but on the other hand, things will be so much better for us. It's closing one chapter and beginning another.

The glass is half full.

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The Runaway Blueberry

Barry didn’t look like the other blueberries. He wasn’t round enough, plump enough, or even blue enough. He was lopsided and wrinkled and he was more purple than blue. Barry lived in a clear plastic box on the kitchen counter with the other blueberries. But Barry felt invisible. None of the other blueberries liked Barry because he was different from them. Nobody paid attention to Barry. Barry was sad. He felt lonely and wanted to be like the other blueberries.

Then one day something happened. The clear plastic box was knocked off the counter. Whoooaaa!! It was a long way to the floor. Barry landed on the floor with all the other blueberries. He was a little stunned from the fall, but Barry knew he was OK. As he looked around, he saw all the other blueberries talking to each other and asking each other if they were hurt. None of the blueberries asked Barry if he was hurt. Once again, Barry felt invisible.

Out came the broom and the dust pan. All of the other blueberries were being swept in to the dustpan. Barry was waiting for the big brush to come to him when he thought to himself, “Wait! Why would I want to go with them? Nobody likes me. I’d be better off alone.”

And then he did it. When the brush came toward him, Barry rolled as fast as he could in the other direction. He rolled and rolled, faster and faster. Barry didn’t know where he was going. He just kept rolling.

Barry rolled until he couldn’t roll anymore. When he stopped, he didn’t know where he was. It was dark and warm. Barry suddenly regretted his decision to roll away from the others. He was scared and alone. As he stood still in the darkness, his eyes became adjusted. Barry then realized that he was not alone.

“Where am I?”, Barry asked.

“You’re under the refrigerator”, said Nicole the Nickel.

“Under the refrigerator? Oh no! Who are you?”, asked Barry.

The nickel replied, “My name is Nicole. This is Penelope.” Nicole pointed to a pen cap.

“Hi there”, said Penelope.

“I’m Harry”, said a wad of dog hair.

“What’s up? My name is Cornelius, but you can call me Corny”, said a corn flake.

“What brings you to these parts?”, asked Mac, a piece of elbow macaroni.

Barry explained to the others that he had been at home in the clear plastic box when somehow the box fell off the counter. He explained that the other blueberries were swept up and now lived in a dust pan. He further explained that he purposely rolled from the other blueberries and that is how he wound up under the refrigerator.

Penelope asked Barry, “Won’t the other blueberries worry about you when they realize you’re missing?”

Barry told the others under the refrigerator that he would not be missed by the blueberries. He told his new friends that the other blueberries did not like him because he was not like the rest of them. Barry told them that he felt badly about himself because he was different from the other blueberries.

Mac said, “Why would you want to be like everybody else? That’s boring.”

Corny chimed in, “Yeah! What’s so great about that? You’re one of a kind”.

Harry added, “Look at us. We’re all different from one another, but we’re all good friends. Kinda like a family”.

Nicole said, “Barry, we’re all unique, but we all care about each other.”

Everyone under the refrigerator asked Barry to stay with them and appreciate his uniqueness. Barry accepted the offer and looked around at his new family. For the first time in his life, Barry felt good about himself and was proud to be different.

Taaaaa Daaaaa

3 hours, 2 cups of coffee and an energy drink later

To Do List

Robin has decided to close her office and work from home. This is the best thing to do, and really, the only option. We'll have a lot more money in our pockets. I calculated the money that we save per month is the equivalent of three long weekends in NYC. My brain has an auto pilot section that converts money into time in NYC.

The bad news is: Kyle (my brother, in case you didn't know) has volunteered (after we asked) to come help us with the move. That's not the bad news. The bad news is - look at the guest room. I have to clean this today. It's all my stuff. Can't blame Robin for any of it. The picture doesn't do it justice. Betsy was here only two months ago and it was nice and clean and pretty. The mounds of clothes and shoes just seem to snowball.

Plus I have to do 2 reports for Ivette (my other boss), do the dreadmill, and go to Publix. So I need to get going. I just turned off the election results on turned on my Ipod. Can you guess the most played song on my Ipod? It's "Moon River" by Willie Nelson - swear to God.

Oh yeah - and my good friend, Alex, offered to help us move too. Thank you, Alex.
BTW - Alex is the owner of Herman, the pig in my before Weight Watchers picture. Alex informed me today that she sold Herman for $600.00 to somebody who was gonna kill him and eat him. Said times are tough and she needed the money.

GET A ROOM!

My dogs make out. And I don't mean just because they're spoiled.

Is it just me?

Or could Willie Nelson and Consantine from American Idol be one in the same? Give Constantine about 50 years and a couple of braids, and he'll be good to go.

What IS it about an old man in braids??

The Long Trip Home (or at least to the Hotel)

As we headed back toward Marco Island with our bellies not full of bubble bread, Robin told me at least two dozen times that we needed to stop somewhere for some toner for her printer. This was a working vacation for us. Turns out the only thing I worked on that week was my suntan. We had passed a Super Walmart on the way out and decided that that would be a good place to stop. Plus I needed supplies for the room. The four minute walk across the street from the hotel to the 7-11 every day just wouldn’t do. I needed water, soda, and snacks (and beer).

Robin and I love to shop. We don’t care if it’s CVS or Saks, thrift stores or Bloomingdale’s. Shopping makes us happy. I always try to grab a cart on my way in to Walmart, Publix or Target because, God forbid, what it there weren’t any available when we got in the store? We’ve all been there. You have to wait and actually stalk the shoppers leaving the store in order to take their cart. Then you get the once over stinkeye look from the current cart pusher. They look at you as if to say, “Are you worthy of this cart? What are your intentions with this cart? What are you planning on putting in this cart?”

We have our cart and Robin is pushing it. She is a risk taker and doesn’t care about getting a cart until we are inside, but not me. She is pushing our lucky we found it cart (there were scores inside, but how would we have known?). I walked away for a half a second to throw out my water bottle in the garbage. I turned her around to see Robin almost run the cart straight into a 400 pound very dark lady. The lady wasn’t moving and Robin wasn’t stopping. The lady said, “You gonna hit me?” and Robin said, “You gonna move?” and I kept walking. Faster.

Robin caught up with me at which time I told her that one of these days, she’s going to get her ass kicked. She really is.

We walked by the bakery and she picked up a huge box of fresh pastries that she would never eat and threw it in the cart. I picked up some strawberry flavored donuts. They were so pretty. Pink. I struggled with the decision to get them, but ultimately decided that I was on vacation and hadn’t had a donut in well over a year and you only live once and what the hell. We then turned the corner and were faced with the 100 calorie snack display. I took out the pretty strawberry donuts and replaced them with a box of 100 calorie blueberry muffins. I’d thank myself later. Then I put the strawberry donuts back in the cart and returned the box of 100 calorie muffins. Finally I put them both in the cart and figured options were the way to go.

Then we did our usual split. She goes for the boys/mens department and electronics and I go for the "Just my Size" workout clothes, night gowns and makeup. We always agree to meet right here, never taking note of where right here actually is, nor do we ever suggest a time. We have never met right here and we never will. But it works for us. Kind of. Some of Robin’s maddest moments at me have taken place in Walmart. One day in particular stands out. I had gone to the garden section and had gotten a few small tree like plants. Once in the cart, they were taller than me. Robin and I passed each other a few times in the store. I saw her, but she didn’t see me. But I didn’t know that she couldn’t see me because I saw her. I figured she was just ignoring me. About an hour and a half later, our paths crosses again and I asked her if she was ready to go.

“Jesus Christ, Kim. Where the hell have you been? I have been looking all over for you. I hate when you disappear”. I informed her that we had passed each other several times and I assumed she had seen me.

“Right. I’m going to pass you and not say anything? You’re an idiot.”

Maybe she was right.

I’m not too proud to buy clothes at Walmart. They really have great
prices. I especially like to buy work out clothes there. I found two pairs of yoga pants in the fat lady section, then meandered over to the mens’ section where I found two tee shirts and Robin. See? It works out. She found some mens’ shorts and a tee shirt that had a monkey drinking a bottle of hot sauce on the front and flames shooting out of his ass on the back. We gathered the rest of the necessities and checked out.

Walmart didn’t have the toner that she needed, but she recalled seeing a Staples on the way back to the hotel. We pulled in to the parking lot and she asked me for my purse. I was driving and said that maybe it was in the backseat. She looked back there and it wasn’t there.

“I think you left your purse at Walmart,” she hurriedly.

“No, no. I don’t do that. I have never left my purse anywhere. You’re the one who’s always losing her shit. It’s gotta be in the back back”, I told her. I wasn’t nervous. I have never left my purse behind.

We jumped out of the car and went to the back to look for my purse. We didn’t see it and soon we looked like cartoon characters with our arms flying a million miles per hour and bags flying everywhere. There where Walmart bags, Jungle Drum bags and Bubble Room bags (they had a gift shop, remember?)

Oh.
My.
God.

My purse was gone. My purse had all of our cash in it, all of our credit cards, my phone, my camera, my life.

I felt like all of the blood rushed out of me. This wasn’t happening.

OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod.

“I can’t believe you did this”, Robin accused. I didn’t say a word. We just had to get back to Walmart. I peeled out of the parking lot on two wheels. It was only about ten minutes away, so maybe if we got there in time, the cart would still be in the cart bin and my purse would still be there. I had to go left to go back to Walmart, but first had to make a right, then make a U-turn. As I made the U-turn I saw the big blue Jungle Drum bags fly out of the back end of the SUV.

We had not shut the back door. In our panic of realizing that my purse was gone, we had both run to get in the car and NOBODY SHUT THE BACK DOOR.

I had to do another U-turn and in doing so, saw that all of our bags were scattered all over a 4 lane busy highway and the Staples parking lot. A nice guy was in the parking lot collecting our bags for us and Robin was running up and down the highway gathering what she could. The big blue Jungle Drum bags were empty. Somebody had taken our pogs and our beautiful ugly lamp. We’d lost our earrings, the litigator alligator for her office, my yoga pants, the monkey ass on fire tee shirt and my beautiful strawberry donuts. We managed to pick up a 12 pack of Heinekin (important) and some generic Walmart cheese puffs. They’d suffered a little road rash we later discovered.

We were sick. We didn’t speak. We still had to race back to Walmart to see, if by the Grace of God, my purse was still in the cart. We drove in utter silence for 10, 15, 20, 30 minutes. We passed a sign that said “Welcome to Naples”.

WTF!

Come to find out, in our haste to get back to Walmart, I didn’t exit the Staples parking lot the sign way I entered it, and, in turn, was on the wrong road. This was truly a nightmare.

Big girls don’t cry. Big girls don’t cry.

I had to calm myself down. At least it wasn’t an expensive purse. I am a purse snob. There is no doubt about it. I’m not crazy snobby though. I would never spend ten thousand dollars or anything like that on a purse, but I do enjoy a nice purse. This particular purse was not a nice purse. It was really a pink and green small beach bag. I had purchased it at a place a month previously while we were visiting my parents. The store is called “Bikini Company”, and although I was torn between a bikini or a beach bag (bikini? beach bag? bikini? beach bag?), the beach bag won. OK. It’s just a beach bag. What else? My Louis Vuitton wallet. You know what? The snap on that hasn’t been working lately, but I couldn’t justify replacing the wallet, so maybe now I can. The cash. Oh shit. All our cash was gone. I then did the math (you know me) in my head and decided we didn’t have that much left over, after what we had spent during the day. My phone, my camera. Don’t cry. Big girls don’t cry. It’s just stuff. Then the tears started. We’d spent all that money and it was all over Route 441 and people stole our stuff and they probably would have no appreciation of a pog, let alone the beautiful ugly lamp.

We finally got turned around in the right direction and found Walmart.

DAMN IT.
Wrong Walmart.

We drove yet another 15 minutes and recognized the crime scene. We never remember where we park, let alone at a time like this. I parked and ran into the store while Robin perused the carts in the parking lot. I ran to Customer Service and from afar, I saw the pink and green!

Thank God this hadn’t happened in Miami.

We drove back to friggen Staples and while she went inside, I took inventory. I guess that while we were wildly looking for the purse earlier, the pogs and beautiful ugly lamp had been taken out of the bags and only the bags had flown out of the car.

The only thing we never found was the dozen beautiful pink strawberry donuts…hmmmm.

Miami Traffic

I don't know if anyone noticed the bottom of this page, but it's gives a daily tip of how to do a random act of kindness.

Today's tip was something about letting other drivers merge in front of you.

Ha!

I have lived in Miami for 5 years now. I will never ever get used to the traffic. Actually, it's not even the traffic. It's more like the drivers that I can't stand. Granted - I grew up in a small town that didn't even have a stop light. But I have lived in various cities with ample traffic. Orlando traffic sucks for sure. Jacksonville has a heavy rush hour. But the drivers aren't mean.

Miami has been voted as the city with the most aggressive drivers in the country for a few years in a row now. I'm here to tell you it's true. Just this morning, Robin and I were driving to work and we merged in front of someone on I-95. She was driving and I was on the phone with my mother. The guy who she merged in front of honked his horn so loudly and long, my mom thought we were about to get hit by a train!

I am the only person in Miami with driving manners. Seriously. I let people merge in front of me. They never give me the thank you wave. If I ever had a chance to give the thank you wave, I would give it. I haven't had the chance to give the thank you wave since living in Miami.

Usually what happens when I let someone merge in front of me, I see the person in the car behind me throwing their hands up in anger. They inevitably catch up with me and give me the stare down. Or worse.

So, if you're ever in Miami and someone lets you merge in front of them, it'll be me. Be sure to wave hello. And thank you.

My POGS

Due to popular viewer requests (the one I got), I decided to share my POGS with you.

For more information about POGS, log on to marygarberpogs.com

Oh, and please ignore the dust. My cleaning lady discovered blogging this week.

Hello Luva

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Bubble Bread Recipe

After reading my blog, my dear friend Cindy (who I know through Weight Watchers - LOL!!) was kind enough to research the Bubble Bread recipe and send it to me! I cannot weight to make it.

Thank you, Cindy!!!


"Chica’s Bubble Bread (The Bubble Room Bread)

1 loaf soft Italian bread, sliced in half lengthwise
1/2 cup cream cheese, softened
4 tbsp butter (1/2 stick), softened
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese (the canned stuff works great)
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1/2 tsp kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper to taste
1/2 cup grated cheddar cheese
1/2 cup grated mozzarella cheese
Gather all the ingredients, For best mixing results, your butter and cream cheese should be at room temperature, but if you have to pull them straight from the fridge, just microwave them for a few seconds to soften them. Mix the butter and cream cheese together in a bowl until all lumps are gone. Add the mayonnaise and Parmesan cheese and mix well.

Crush the garlic in a garlic press or use a knife to dice it very finely. Add the garlic to the cheese mixture along with the salt and pepper and stir well.

Slice the bread lengthwise so that you have two pieces. Place the bread on a cookie sheet and put it under the broiler for a few seconds until golden brown. This pre-toasting step will ensure that your bread doesn’t get too soggy from the rich cheese topping.

Generously spread the mixture onto the bread. You should have just enough cheese to coat both pieces of bread. Sprinkle the top with a mixture of the cheddar and mozzarella cheese and return to the broiler until the cheese is bubbly and beginning to brown. Watch it carefully so that it doesn’t burn!

Allow to cool slightly and then slice into wedges and serve.

Note: If you don’t want to make both halves of the bread at once, you can save half of the cheese mixture in a bowl in the fridge. To use it the next day, just let it come to room temperature and stir well."

http://www.chicaandjo.com/2008/06/30/how-to-recreate-the-bubble-rooms-bubble-bread

Me and Mrs. Mrs. Jones

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