Boozed up cherries Saturday, October 02, 2010
From here on out I'm not going to comment on my inability to write regularly. I know with my schedule right now it's probably just not going to be possible. I'm out of the house by 9am and I'm never home before 9:30 a least 3 nights a week, by Thursday I all I want to do is sit like a lump on the couch. And often that is exactly what I do, my brain has turned to mush and making dinner seems impossible. Which is why last week I tore into an entire bag of Archer Farms Blue Corn Tortilla Chips and a whole jar of salsa. That was it, nothing else for dinner.It seems planning right now is essential to my life, if I don't think ahead and plan meals it means I'm either forgetting to eat until I realize I've got the full on low-blood sugar shakes and am light headed or I'm having to compromise and eat something quick and not so good for my waistline. And lets be honest, I need those extra calories for beer and custard consumption- wasting them on shitty convenience food is a crime against Wisconsin's many culinary delights.
This week I'm trying a new plan- on Sunday (tomorrow) I'll be making a big casserole from the most recent Eating Well and then portioning it out for meals during the week. Perhaps even freezing some of it so I can pull it out for those weeks when I fail at life. I also need to make a couple of really awesome soups and freeze those, but that will have to be next weekend as I've totally run out of time this weekend.
This summer while I was staying at my parents I halved some cherries and made a simple syrup and threw in some booze (two jars were rum another two were vanilla vodka). I sort of winged the recipe after pursuing some online, then I canned them up and passed out some as gifts for helping me move and such. I did keep one jar for myself and sweet baby am I glad I did. These little vanilla vodka cherry bombs are amazing, I tried them a couple of different ways- one with just seltzer water. Sort of very grown up cherry soda, and while it was good I really thought that they were the best of best in Coke. Cherry Vanilla Vodka Coke. Hello, you are delicious.
I know cherries aren't really in season but I feel I should share anyways:
Boozed Up Cherries
- 2 lbs of pitted and halved cherries
- 2 cups of sugar
- 2 cups of water
- bottle of vanilla vodka
- canning jars, rings, lids (sterilized)
Bring the water and sugar up to boil on the stove top and once hot and the sugar is dissolved turn off (basic simple syrup). Fill the jars with the halved cherries about 3/4 the way full, fill 1/3 of the way with simple syrup, fill the rest of the 2/3 with vanilla vodka.
Then follow standard canning procedures. Wipe down the edges of the jars, place lids and rings and tighten. Then place in a boiling water bath and process for 7-9 minutes. Remove from hot water and allow to cool. Check to make sure they've "popped" and sealed correctly or re-process them.
Again, please use proper techniques when canning- which are easily look-up-able online.
Then placed these lovely jeweled babies on the shelf and crack them open and make up a boozy cocktail after a very long week. When you sigh in happiness you'll know why these are becoming a regular in my canning rotation.
Labels: Awesomeness, drinking, food
Wisconsite at last. Tuesday, August 31, 2010
So here it is, three months and nary a peep from me. I've become the most craptastic blogger in all the land.One would think that an entire summer of fun would provide me with endless opportunities to post about whatever fun thing I was doing but instead I failed to write at all. Photos, yes- there are tons and tons of evidence of me having fun. Riding rollercoasters, driving a boat (look at me overcoming that fear of boats and water), running a 5 mile race, visiting my sister in law in alabama/georgia, a fun visit back to Athens and on and on.
I have to admit I've started to feel sketchy about posting my photos here because of my intended future profession. I'm considering purging my old ones, just in case any of my students stumble across these posts and suddenly are like "Oh holy crap, look at this post Mrs. Skeezix* wrote about being totally freaking drunk 4 years ago! WHOA!" and then poof! I'm an unemployed teacher.
That is the crap thing, I love the photos (uh, clearly I'm a photographer). They convey the fun in a way that words sometimes can't. I'm also epically lazy and photos are an easy way to bulk up a lame or boring entry. I have some time to get make a decision.
But that means that I've actually started grad school! Hurrah! It's a week and half into classes and I'm enjoying being back in the swing of things. Class is really interesting and possibly a little overwhelming at times when I think about all the stuff I'll actually have to do once I get into a classroom.
Oh Milwaukee though, I'm loving it so. There is an excellent little tiki bar around the corner from my apartment (and I mean around the corner), I've ended up there almost every weekend since I moved into town. It's cute and hip and the drinks are crazy strong.
I've hit a couple of the breweries in town and sampled some delicious Wisconsin beer plus had my very first cheese curds (oh love). There are still plenty of breweries to hit up and I can't wait to get rolling. I've had a couple of visitors already, a friend who moved to Wisconsin came for a visit and then a friend from Athens who was in town on business. Really! It felt like a little piece of Athens-home here in my new place.
Keep your fingers crossed for me though, I need to find a job and it's been slow going. Which of course is stressing me out more than a touch, I'm paranoid because I've been having to spend money on school supplies and feel like I'm burning through my reserves faster than I planned.
*I realized after I posted this I made myself a "Mrs." I promise I did not have some quickie wedding in all the fun things I did this summer. I'm not sure why I bloody wrote that but it's funny and thus I'm leaving it.
Labels: Awesomeness, beer, drinking, Milwaukee, photos, school
WTF Potluck Friday, February 26, 2010
I know everyone is desperate to know what I decided to do about my cell phone...I went with Verizon and the Droid Eris. So far so good, a few hiccups with it's fancy-ass-ness. But I've successfully sent texts, photos and made calls. I have also managed to be on the phone with my sister, put her on hold, call my mother, hang up on her, call her back, hang up again and then call my friend, hanging up on her- and finally hanging up on my sister (who was on hold). All in the span of 30 or seconds. It was spectacular.Last weekend I spent the snow behind for a meet up of internet nerd friends. We've all been posting online in some iteration of our message board for damn near 10 years (some less than that- fresh meat and all that jazz). It was probably the best time I've had in years, so much laughter and hilariousness. It's mind boggling that we've all shared so much over the years (weddings, divorces, babies, deaths, moves, graduations, etc) and not all of us have met. I honestly think my abs may have given up by Sunday because of all the laughter.
One the best parts of the weekend was our amazing WTF Potluck. Over the years we've discussed various regional dishes- the sorts of things one finds in church cookbooks. Things that sound dubious in nature but actually are extremely tasty. In order to win over the doubters it was time to make those dishes and share them with the group. Top of the WTF list was the 7 Layer Salad. In case you are unaware it is a salad of lettuce (iceburg only), cauliflower (or broccoli), peas, cheese, bacon, tomatoes, and mayonnaise. It sounds horrifying but it is great- the mayo layer is provides the salad dressing. I promise it is delicious.
Other contributions include Grilled Stickies from State College, Pa. Which is a breakfast cake/bread that you butter and heat in a pan. It is warm, cinnamony goodness. A classic taco dip, cream cheese covered in chili sauce, beer cheese dip that was amazing. It actually tasted like beer and cheese, I feel most dips of this nature are lacking in the actual beer flavor. Also there was a velveta corn macaroni casserole and the ever classic Hanky Panks. Cheesy beef and sausage on rye toasts, they aren't pretty but they are tasty. And even good cold.
Some other highlights of the weekend included pictionary that went slightly pervy and got very loud, laying in bed giggling like a bunch of school girls over a hilarious joke- laughing so hard the bed was shaking, our walk through the park where we basically looked like a gang of ladies, convincing our host to take us to Bojangles for breakfast, a deep and involved discussion of what a Hurdy Gurdie is, and a hilarious diatribe about solar sun panels and Rascal wheelchairs.
I'm sure some of the above things will make very little sense but I still bust up laughing every time I think about my friend pointing at me and saying "YOU! You will make canned tomatoes!" when discussing her plan if the U.S. government should fall and we are thrown into chaos.
I could really go for a Grilled Stickie right now.
Labels: Awesomeness, beer, drinking, drunken shenanagans, food
Down the rabbit hole Thursday, October 29, 2009
I can now check a whole 'nother round of things off my to-do list: take a last minute long weekend to see a man, eat some cheesecurds, drink out of a boot. Yes, I'm living my life like a character from The Bucket List. At some point this last year I realized, what the fuck am I waiting for? Hence the jumping out of a plane, trip to England and Ireland and now an impromptu visit to see a guy I used to date. He knew I was coming, it was like a sneak attack or stalking- I promise.It has always sounded deliciously romantic and straight out of the movies to make last minute plans and jump on a plane to go see someone. It was exciting and fun, and as a bonus I only had 3! days to worry about whether or not I looked cute enough or if my ass has grown since the last time I saw him (it has) and he'll be horrified (if it did he didn't act like it).
As a friend pointed out this was like an Alice in Wonderland trip, everything seemed to have an oversized theme to it. First there was the oversized chair we sat in at Lake Mendota Terrace, the giant ostrich egg I bought at the farmers market (because who could pass a thing like that up? Not I.) to the enormous boot of beer at The Essen House. Apparently everything is bigger in Wisconsin, who knew?
To back things up a bit, I had to get up ridiculously early and so by about 6:45am I was sitting in the Chicago airport getting some breakfast- I asked for a cup of tea and shot of whiskey, a classic hot toddy. The waiter looked completely horrified, like i had just told him I like to hang puppy dogs by their tails. First off I had a scratchy throat from breathing dry airplane air and I thought a drink my calm my fluttering stomach. So the waiter haughtily informs me that it is entirely too early for him to serve me alcohol and walks off. Whatever dude, fuck you.
Now when I get to Milwaukee I had about an hour to kill so I try again, this time I start chatting with the bartender and relay my story of getting shot down in Chicago. She pats my hand and says "Honey, this is Wisconsin, we love to drink." as she is serving up my bourbon on the rocks. Guess what, I didn't get tipsy it just slowed down my nervous mind and from then on out I was golden.
The nerves were completely unfounded because even with the two years since we'd seen each other last it was just fine. I think he was doing his damnest to prove to me that Madison was the awesomest since he's been touting in emails since he moved there. I have to say he's a damn fine tour guide (in addition to being damn fine), I got to see both terraces (Madison is flanked by to big lakes), the capitol building, the farmers market, 2 breweries, an apple farm and then other random assorted sites. I drank a ridiculous amount of beer, ate cheese curds, part of an ostrich egg, a burger that had bacon, beef AND and bratwurst on a pretzel bun and watched my beloved Browns get their asses kicked by Green Bay. Ok, so that last part wasn't awesome, but I'm a Cleveland fan- disappointment runs in our blood.
It is possible that I fell a little bit in love with Madison*.
Really, how could I not?
*Ok, I realize that I said the exact same thing about Ireland- but Ireland and I are full blown in love, Madison and I need to get to know each other a little better before proper declarations are made.
Labels: Awesomeness, beer, dating, drinking, drunken shenanagans, vacation
Ireland Tuesday, October 13, 2009
I came thisclose to never leaving Ireland. I can't explain it, I felt at home there. Perhaps it was the pint after pint of beer befuddling my brain or the general misty haze that comes with vacation but it's the truth, I love Ireland. WE ARE IN LOVE.And really, my hair looked fucking fantastic the entire time I was there. That alone is reason enough for me to move there.
Tom, Sara and I had wandered around Kinsale all morning and by early afternoon they were ready for a nap. Me, I wanted to wander some more so I did. First I went up the hill towards a nunnery and then I turned left. Somehow I ended up sort of out in the countryside next to an old Irish guy walking his dog, he turned to me and said something. What he said is entirely a mystery because it's possible was speaking Gaelic, because even after I ask him to repeat himself I still couldn't understand him. So I said "Yeah, that was quite a steep hill" and then booked it because he very well may have been saying something about the weather and wondering why this strange American girl is babbling about a hill.
Eventually I headed back into town, partially because I was pissed that some stupid McMansion sort of development had put up giant 12 foot fences and it was blocking my view of the Irish countryside. WTF?
One night after dinner Tom and I headed into a pub (seriously, the drinking that went on was ridiculous). Sara was too tired to come with so she went back to the B&B while Tom and I went to listen to some Irish music. It was the fantastically little cozy place with locals and tourists alike, we grabbed a couple of pints and sat down to listen. The guy singing and playing guitar was fantastic, he sang a couple of songs and then invited us to all sing along to Mary Mack. We were only a quarter of the way into our pints and the guy was singing a pretty (but slightly cheesy) love song when Tom leaned over to me and said "I think I need to leave now." Confused I asked why and he said "Things are rumbling in a way that isn't good". Both of us grabbed our pints and tried to down as much of them as we could- because the damn things were 4+ Euros a piece.
As we were hightailing it across the town square Tom's gut let out this unearthly growl. It was so loud and sort of echoed off the buildings around us, which only caused me to bust into laughter. Poor Tom ended up spending a good portion of the night in the bathroom.
The following morning he seemed quite recovered and we all headed off to the ancient fort outside of town, taking the low road. Completely forgetting that poor Sara had foot surgery in July and thus by the time we got to the fort her poor feet were tuckered out. Tom and I ran around the inside of the fort, which was massive, and then we boarded the little road train thing to take us back into town. Once in town we drank some more (shocking), ate some lunch and then DRANK SOME MORE. In our defense it was Arthur's Day- the 250th founding of Guinness so drinking in Ireland was an absolute.
I took a seriously insane amount of photos- a few are here, the rest can be found on my flickr page- since I don't want to endlessly bore you with 30 different shots of Kinsale harbor.
Celtic Cross in a super old church:
Kinsale Harbor:
Labels: drinking, drunken shenanagans, Ireland, photos, UK Trip, vacation
I blame the champagne. Wednesday, June 10, 2009
It seemed to start like all birthday dinners that we have been having lately go: nice restaurant, everyone brings a bottle of wine and we commence with the eating and drinking and celebrating. But it took a turn right about the time I opened the bottle of Domaine St. Michelle I brought.I'm a lady who prides herself on her ability to open champagne bottles properly, hell I've opened bottle after bottle while riding in cars with nary a drop spilled. It's my badge of honor, champagne bottle opener girl. I waited a good thirty minutes after I got to the restaurant to open the bottle so any shaking it would have gotten while I trudged up several hills should have subsided. But as I removed the little metal capper thing the cork shot skyward and of course champagne started spraying everywhere.
I'll admit I panicked and clamped my hand over the top of the bottle thus creating a sprinkler effect and effectively giving everyone around me (including those not with our group) a bit of dousing (oxymoron, yes). I'm so unbelievably embarrassed for bringing the champagne sprinkler to the restaurant, which in theory sounds like an awesome idea, I'd like a champagne sprinkler right now. I profusely apologized to those around us and really do hope they didn't leave the restaurant cursing 'that bitch who doesn't know how to open champagne'.
From there on out the rest of the evening was a bit of tipsy blurr. At some point early on I told the story of the guy at the BMV who's hair looked like a Velociraptor, from then on I would randomly put my hands to the back of my head and wiggle my fingers while making a screeching sound. Everyone would laugh and that only encouraged me more.
Then I won the Irish Car Bomb Race, regardless of what Kate has to say about the matter. The prize? Another Irish Car Bomb, which is awesome. What follows Irish Car Bombs? Ridiculous photos of you and your friends, possibly involving lots of cleavage. Photos that will never ever see the light of day, that is unless you were there in person to witness our tipsy behavior. Because said behavior was taking place right in the middle of the most popular bar in our town, so I'm sure many people got to see that show.
Random aside: As I was walking to the restaurant, up those multiple hills, I caught site of my bottom in the reflective surface of a store front window. I'm sincerly hoping that it was combination of the dress, my underwear and walking up a hill that made my butt look like that. I was mesmerized and a touch horrified, my bottom looked very round and bouncy, protruding more than I'd like.
Labels: Awesomeness, beer, drinking, drunken shenanagans
Insomnia. Monday, February 09, 2009
For a couple of years now I've been experiencing what is called alcohol induced insomnia. Which basically means that my body freaks the fuck out if I drink. It started off just as waking up obscenely early after a night of excessive drinking but it seems to be getting worse. Two drinks spaced out evenly throughout the night and I'll sleep for 3 hours before waking and being unable to fall back asleep.Which totally sucks. Today I was the walking dead since I had two cocktails last night after seeing He's Just Not That Into You (don't go- it sucks. There are no words for it's suckitude. It's not even campy-hilarious-Showgirls bad, it's just painful). Three hours of sleep are just not enough for me to function on and those three hours were quite fitful to start with, by the end of the work day I was near tears.
So I think I'm going to have to take a hiatus from drinking. Which pains me, I love alcohol and it loves me like Ike loved Tina. Sometimes all I want is a cold frosty Oberon Ale or a belly warming snifter of bourbon. I will probably be a bit cranky and annoyed while this self imposed exile from adult beverage land is taking place. Be forewarned.
I've still been cooking up a storm. This weekend alone I made orangettes, london broil and my mom's cheese zucchini. Which doesn't sound like too much food, but it was.
Some of these lovely orangettes will be dipped into chocolate, the rest left plain. I plan on making some candied lemon peal soon and tossing them in sugar and citric acid to make a very grown up version of sour patch kids.
Labels: drinking, food, photos
Of course you are. Saturday, December 06, 2008
I heard that phrase repeatedly last weekend at my high school reunion in regards to what I do for a living. It came from people who didn't know me very well as well as the people who did. Guess I was pretty ubiquitous with the camera even back in high school. 15+ year love affair one could say.To be completely honest I had a good time in high school, it was fun and I floated about somewhere in the middle of everyone. Friends with all with only a couple nemesises. It was not the time of my life and there are things I wished I done differently (like why was I hung up on my high school sweetheart and not dating all the wickedly cute boys that went to my school), but unlike (ahem) someone who declared if she could go back and re-live any school year it would be senior year. Me, no fucking thanks. I'll take college any day. Beer, friends and living without the watchful gaze of parents beats out the crap of SATs, curfews and general stupidity.
10 years later it was surprising how much everyone still looked for the most part like what they did in high school. There were only a few people I didn't recognized off the bat, and of course those bastards weren't wearing name tags. Douches.
There were two people who ended up marrying each other and that pretty much floored me. I guess I never expected two people to meet in high school and marry post-college, it feels entirely too much like something out of the 1960's. Then again perhaps I should be seeing the sweetness about meeting your love so early on, but really then I think about all those great experiences that come with drunkenly kissing someone who is totally wrong for you but so.freaking.hot that I don't think I would want to have met someone when I was 14.
Of course later in the evening I was standing next to a friend of mine snarking heavily about the door prizes which included a t-shirt with our mascot printed massively on the back (it seriously covers the whole back of the damn shirt). Just as I was ramping up for another snark filled rant they called my name. That's right, I'd won the hilarious t-shirt that LOUDLY proclaimed my awesomeness as an alumni. You bet your sweet ass I wore it to the gym this week, if only because it cracked me up. I'm absolutely positive no one else in my gym got that I was trying to be funny but I did, they probably just assumed I was a wanker. Which considering I wear the old style of headphones and not the cool earbuds (they hurt my ears) probably only reinforces their opinion of me as probably a dork.
Labels: beer, cleveland, drinking
Bits of my thoughts Thursday, October 23, 2008
Hi, I'm a lazy wanker lately. Writing is entirely beyond me and unfortunately everything here is going to be in bullet points because paragraphs are just to much fucking work.-Hey smartypants, remember your inside whisper voice is not so whispery after 4 high alcohol content beers. That is why that girl heard you mocking her speech patterns and proceeded to stare at you with daggers in her eyes.In my defense she rolled her r's without a good reason.
-Signing up for the young professionals email list as "Skeezix-the slutty one" probably wasn't professional. Again, sign up for shit BEFORE you drink 4 beers.
-My flirting skills are RUSTY. Especially confronted with extreme hotness.
-I swear. A lot.
-Dear cute guy at the gym, I'd like to thank you for doing those lunging chest presses while wearing those small running shorts. Seriously fine ass.
-I was never a huge fan of NKOTB, but
Sarah's recap of the concert makes me wish I was there with them.
-The new AC/DC album is only being sold at Wal-Mart, WTF? That is so wrong.
-My pants have been feeling tight lately, so I've stepped up the workouts. Except then today for lunch I ate my body weight in bad chinese food and for dinner had a soft serve ice cream cone. Clearly a practice in failure.
I promise the next post will be full thoughts and paragraphs, most likely about my zip lining adventure on Sunday. So FREAKING excited.
Labels: drinking, embarassing, food, gym
The rambler. Tuesday, August 26, 2008
I've been lazy lately, thus the lack of writing down of actual thoughts. But most of my thoughts lately have been, "Is it 5pm? Can I have a glass of wine or two?" and lots of sleeping.But I've still got things to tell you about, so to review:
Friday night at the bar my friends and I were laughing it up and having a good time in the very crowded, noisy bar (loud music and such) when this henious woman at the next table leaned over and asked us to be quiet. FOR REAL. We all sat there in stunned silence, I wish I had a time traveling machine because I'd go back and tell her to go fuck herself. It's a bar. It's loud. If you don't like it you can go down to the damn library. Bitch.
I got fired from my wine shop job. They said it was "downsizing" but really it was because I basically told them to shove it- twice, when they tried to institute ridiculous policies- if something breaks on your shift they will take the cost of the item out of your paycheck and apparently we are supposed to know through telepathy that the owner wanted us to clean the toilet during our shift. I'll miss helping people out because I found I really liked it, I will not miss their horrible management of the place or the lack of hours that I was getting. I was working so little I only made about $30 every two weeks.
The farmer's market this week was full of sweet, apple cheeked babies with ridiculously fat thighs. I considered stealing one.
It's been a full three months since the last time I got kissed, that is entirely too long. Yet not a single cute single person in the area lately. I fear the college students will come back I'll accidentally lose control of myself and grab a poor freshmen and kiss the hell out of him on the street. But that would probably be some sort of assault, right? Crap. Must remember not to do that.
I bought a whole watermelon this weekend, I'm going to attempt to eat it all by myself.
It wasn't until Monday of this week that I realized that it was Labor Day weekend this weekend. How the hell did that happen? Summer is over? WTF? I certainly haven't driven my car enough...I'm thinking about taking a little solo road trip this weekend but I have no idea where I want to fo.
Although a tiny part of me is secretly looking forward to cooler fall temps and boots and jackets and pretty leaves. First I should probably go buy some boots and jackets, right?
That is all I've got.
Labels: drinking, lazy, midget
Good Intentions. Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Ok, so I had a semi-funny post about stress and exercise and not drinking because I have a triathlon this weekend and then OPPS. I went out and played pool volleyball and had approximately 1 (or 2 or 3) too many Bells Oberon Summer Ale. DAMNIT.YET. It was fun and delicious and resulted in me getting Taco Johns on the way home. BASTARD.
Blah, now I want to sleep. Goodnight.
So very sore+Day in photos Friday, April 18, 2008
I am totally walking funny today because I asked my trainer to kick my ass. I've totally slacked off on working on for the last month, I just couldn't find the motivation because I was being sad and lame. Whatever. Really I couldn't stand feeling like such shit anymore so I resolved to working out every day again. Also I had a bit of great motivation, that being that my pants are starting to not fit correctly. Which sucks since my pant wardrobe is seriously limited to start with.As soon as I started back this week I felt better. I got in several good cardio workouts before I asked my trainer to essentially come up with a plan to make my thighs explode. Oh, and he did. Circuits. Lots of squats, lunge-like steps, kicking exercises (which I happen to LOVE. Here let me work out some aggression by kicking the shit out of your (padded) hands.WHEEEE !!!!). Best part was that we ripped through an hour workout in 30 minutes because I could complete each circuit in 11 minutes, I was hauling ass people. He did cut one set of circuits because he didn't want me to be totally fucking paralyzed for the following 2 days.
Yesterday I just did cardio, but there were a couple cute new guys at the gym. And I think one of them might have been checking me out, although it is quite possible he was staring at my extremely red face in horror. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned how I turn the color of tomato whileexercising but here is the other thing about when I'm having a really good workout... I smile. A LOT. Because it feels good. Also because I'm usually listening to some super cheesy pop mix. Yesterday the biggest smiles came from Wind it Up (GwenStefani), Switch (Will Smith), and Faith (George Michael).
With any luck I'll feel more comfortable in my pants in a month, barring any more brownie breakfasts (oops, just one this morning). But I also like to think that eating it early in the day might be marginally better since I've got all day to burn it off. Just let me live on in my delusion,ok?
Lets show some photos, shall we? Tuesday happened to be a particularly fun day, since it didn't involve my usually boring routine of sitting on the couch watching endlessCSI repeats on Spike (CSI is the new Law and Order), I felt the compelling need to document it.
Labels: apartment, drinking, photos
Perfection; in relation to happy hour Friday, March 07, 2008
Last night I was watching TV and there was commercial that caused me to stop and laugh for good 10 minutes. I also happened to be on the phone and luckily my phone companion thought the commercial I saw was as awesome and hilarious as I did (and wasn't annoyed that I was watching TV while on the phone with him).And what was this a commercial for? Tudor's World of Biscuits.
Shall I repeat that? Tudor's World of Biscuits. A world of biscuits, people. A whole world, how have I never known that such a place exsisted?
I like biscuits, perhaps I will take a trip to this Tudor's World of Biscuits since they are franchise and are scattered over the region (apparently). I love a good biscuit, I mean- who doesn't? I would probably think you were a zombie or alien if you didn't.
Here is the thing, I'm a little drunk. Actually I'm the perfect amount buzzed. You know where things are lovely around the edges yet I'm not ridiculously screaming at random college students on the street about how they are dressed (which would be 'like sluts').
The only problem is now I'm starving and tired. Yet, I've eaten two very sizable pieces of pizza and yet the belly is still clamoring for more. I could make myself a salad, but who the fuck eats a salad when they are drunk? It's not exactly the perfect drunk food, more like the worst drunk food. Whipping up a dressing seems like something I would mess up in my slightly altered state (and no, I don't own bottled dressing- so that isn't an option). So I'm pretty much screwed on the food front- I don't have any good snackable items on hand. Damnit.
Tired? Oh yes, I'm wiped out. Too many late nights this week (hello after midnight bedtimes!). Not the best idea, I'm just sleepy.
Ok, I'm off to forage in the kitchen. I know I've got some frozen corn, but again frozen corn does not a good snack make.
Also where have all my readers gone? Too much erratic posting? Lame entries that don't inspire comment at all? I'm sure it is all of these things and for that I'm sorry.
Labels: Awesomeness, beer, drinking, food, TV
Damnit, whatever. Monday, February 04, 2008
There is absolutely no hope of me writing anything resembling a cohesive post today, filled with witty transitions and insightful, pithy observations.Instead, I feel like a haggy, lumpy, limp-haired old shoe who just wants to sit on her couch and maybe cry a bit while watching a Lifetime or Hallmark movie. (Don't judge me, I actually was disappointed this weekend when I realized my cable provider doesn't offer the Hallmark channel. I often mock and hate the sap of Lifetime, but sometimes there is nothing more delicious than a Tori Spelling made for tv movie in which the nanny steals her baby and then her husband while trying to kill her.)
I tried to take a picture of me wearing the hat I finished this weekend and after 15 shots that nearly brought me to tears I gave up. The damn hat looks like the one a couple of posts ago, except it's blue.
I'm going home soon, at which I've decided I'm going to open that blasted $15 a bottle of champagne that I bought for New Years.Then I'm going to cover my face in a mask that smells like chocolate, pluck my eye brows, repaint the nails I chipped yesterday, and give myself a pedicure. After that I'll probably be drunk enough to start making random phone calls to people. If I've got your number I'd like to apologize in advance for anything I might say.
Then I'll probably pass out.
Good plan.
Labels: drinking
Not that I'm experienced with goat testicles. I love squash. Friday, December 14, 2007
I've started a blog entry about my birthday 4 times now and have since abandoned all of them as being boring and lame. The one I really liked was eaten by the google servers so I've had to try to remember what I liked about it. Oh my god, like you all really want to reading this inane drivel about my attempts at posting because I'm sure you don't since I myself and even bored by it.The reality is I had a very nice birthday, and the blog title was actually something that was utter by a friend of mine at my birthday dinner. It was all one thought, and so splendiferious that we all sat and laughed for a very long time at her. And is it really surprising that something as weird as goat testicles was discussed at my birthday dinner? Although now I'm sure that every freak on the internet who is looking "goat testicle birthday party" is going to be directed to my site.
Listen, if you are looking for freaky action of that nature you should just point your browser in a different direction, ok. I seriously need to get back to the topic at hand though...
I do feel a tiny bit bad for the relatively sedate party of 15 that was in the room adjoining ours at the restaurant. They had to listen to us braying loudly at nearly everything. Lots of bottles of wine and six usually rowdy ladies is certainly not a recipe for a calm evening. But I think the highlight of the evening for those trying to have a quiet dinner was when they heard me sing Good Ship Lollipop and Baby Got Back after I'd inhaled a lot of helium.
So really I spent my 28th birthday acting like an 8 year old at sleep over. But does the odd, chipmunk-like voice induced by helium ever really stop being funny?
Labels: Awesomeness, drinking
Choices Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Two roads diverged in a wood...Ok, I had to do it. Robert Frost created such a perfect metaphor that I (and of course everyone else who's ever heard the poem) just can't resist to use it when talking about choices. Trite and overused, just deal with it.
My choice last night was not of epic proportions, rather the decision to either have multiple glasses of wine and become slightly inebriated or go to the gym and sweat my ass off. Why would this be such an choice that could effect one's overall mood?
Oh, because I just got dissed by my date. Or dumped or however you want to phrase it. After he bailed on Saturday's date (it was to be our first official one even though we'd been sort of involved already) he then turned around and called me last night to tell me that he's been hanging out with someone else he really, really likes and wants to focus on that. Did he mention that he really likes her? Really likes.
Ok, dude, I get the message. You like this other chick, thanks for repeating over and over again that you like her so.much.more.than.me.
So then came the choice, drink or gym. The choice for me was fairly easy, I was going to go with the alcohol route. Then while trying to peel some hardboiled eggs, which I subsequentally mauled beyond all reason, I realized that I had some excess anger energy to work out.
So I threw on my gym clothes and over an hour later I felt so much better. I left the gym feeling clean and awesome. I was lighter mentally and knew that in the end it was the best decision I could have made.
Then to come down from the endorphin high I had several glasses of wine and eventually slept like a baby.
Up to my old tricks again. Monday, November 19, 2007
Friday night was honestly the most fun I've had in a long time. Add in so much alcohol and I think I may have killed my liver.The mere fact that it took me a full 24 hours to recover should give you some idea of how completely blitzed I was. But honestly I wouldn't trade one moment of it for anything. Even if my partner and I got thoroughly spanked during the last hand of euchre. We didn't even score one point. Pathetic.
Really, most of the last game was spent dispensing dating advice to another player. Yes, me, giving dating advice. Now I know that might seem laughable but I hope it helped him out. I wasn't the only one piping up with helpfulness so hopefully we didn't steer him too wrong. I can't remember too much of conversations that were had after that since things become a blur. I remember talking a friend's ear off about my goddamn triathlon. Which probably sounded something like "God, it was so awesome. Seriously. Awesome. I was so happy. It was like the greatest high ever. Awesome."
Adding to the tortuousness of the hangover from hell I had to work early on Saturday morning. There were more than a few moments when I thought my head was going to explode from pure unadulterated pain. Ugh.
In an effort to speed my recovery along, at least make my head stop pounding since I consider my liver a lost cause I spent Saturday evening in. Sitting at home in my robe with mayonnaise in my hair with is covered with Saran wrap. Watching Friday Night Lights.
It was pretty damn un-sexy, but now at least I've got super shiny and glossy hair.
If anyone would like to donate a portion of their liver to me please email me.
Labels: Awesomeness, beer, drinking, drunken shenanagans, triathlon
Martini Sunday Monday, November 05, 2007
I've decided to institute a new policy at Chez Skeezix, Martini Sunday. Every Sunday afternoon I will whip a martini to drink. Down it will go, thus soothing the pain that comes from knowing I have to go to work tomorrow.At least that is the theory.
I love a good dirty martini but mine never seem to come out as delicious as the ones I get at bars, why is that? It's like they sprinkle some magical fairy dust over the drinks before they arrive at the table or the alternate theory is that I'm just a terrible bartender.
I came up with the lovely idea of Martini Sunday after having to go into work yesterday. Yes, a Sunday workday. Which absolutely blew. I hate working on the weekends for the man, the only acceptable weekend working I can do is for freelance. Freelance money is nice. Come to me freelance. I love you.
On Friday night some my friends met out for happy hour, some played pool and other (ahem, me) just sat at the table drinking beer and after beer. Yumi and I decided to head down for a hot dog, delicious little hot dog sent from heaven. And since I wasn't ready to call it a night we went next door to play some darts. Not only did I win twice but I beat Yumi, which since she is a pretty kick ass dart player made my night.
Not making my night was the guy who hit on me at the bar, within the first few minutes he says- in response to my question of what he does for a living- "I work in construction, contracting for the government. Basically I rape the government."
Uh, wow.
Then he proceeds to tell me he hates Al Gore (after I say I love him) and doesn't believe in global warming. At that point I tell him I can't talk to him anymore. He's said entirely too many things I just can't abide and he goes back to his friends at the bar.
It may seem that I'm blunt and brutal but I've gotten to the point that I'm not wasting any more time feigning interest in people who I clearly am not going to get along with. Ever. Plus I'm nailing down more and more what I'm looking for and someone who doesn't believe in global warming and "rapes the government" is not it.
Denizens of Hell Monday, September 24, 2007
I'm slowly getting back on my feet after that rough week, but I still feel very unwitty not 100% like myself yet. I'd thought to hold off writing until I reach optimal-skeezixness but I have a tendency to be an impatient bitch so here I am- writing.Friday night was blissfully quiet, I sat on the patio and read a book for several hours. The only downside being that I am apparently a tasty buffet for little bugs and am now covered in bites. Very itchy bites. Saturday was one of our birthday shopping excursions this time for Kate. It was an interesting start to the trip when we came across an SUV on fire on the freeway. Like full flames shooting towards the sky, car totally engulfed. Besides being a tiny bit frightening it was more than a bit mesmerizing.
Shopping with the ladies is always a challenge because I go into it with the best resolve not to buy anything and yet still always walk away with something. This time it was these perfect little shoes.
Saturday night was Kate's Dance Party Birthday event, and of course I somehow managed to end up completely drunk. I honestly don't know how it happened, I was totally fine, totally fine and the minute I got home the room started spinning and felt awful. But prior to that I had a fantastic time, I danced my ass off (in my new shoes and was rewarded with a blister and very hurty feet). It was a model theme so there were all sorts of weird outfits, I saw a sailor, a preppy j.crew style model, Vana wearing Kroger paper bags taped to her feet as shoes, and a man in Mexican wrestling mask.
The party was held at a friend's girlfriend's house (she still being in college) and the entire party was partially spent wandering around asking anyone if they had a bottle opener. I forgot that some college students only drink Natty Light and therefore don't even own a bottle opener. Some poor 18-year-old girl at the party drank one of my beers (yes, I was at a party with 18 year olds and I felt completely ancient) and several people offered to kick her ass. While annoying, I couldn't let a girl be roughed up over one bottle of Pacifico.
Sunday morning I nursed a wicked hangover for quite a while, and then went for a drive with Yumi out to The Dutch Restaurant. And really there was nothing Dutch about it, more like a version of Cracker Barrel down to the odd, hokey gift shop attached to it. I still enjoyed my chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes and mac and cheese.
There was this weird little pen with pygmy goats next to the restaurant and of course neither of us could pass up the chance to feed and pet them. Yumi declared them denizens of hell because of their odd shaped eyes, they have weird little horizontal shaped irises and it creeped us the hell out.
See the awful eyes that clearly mark them as a follower of Satan?
And lastly we stopped by the Canoe Livery and picked up some information for a future canoe trip we would like to take.
Labels: beer, drinking, midget, photos
Amy and Ben, they rock. Monday, August 13, 2007
My college roommate's wedding this weekend was great, and everything I expected it to be. First off let me say I love Amy dearly and her new husband is awesome. He's cute, smart and funny and clearly has excellent taste because he loves Amy.I've known Amy for nearly 10 years now and I still remember the first time we bonded. Basically I kicked her ass at Asshole and made her do all sorts of silly things that caused her to become inebriated. From there our casual acquaintance blossomed into true friendship, the sort of friendship that is forged when you live with someone for several years and somehow make it out of it still liking each other- even if the other person has a predilection for making food and then consuming two bites before they declare themselves full and throw it away. Don't throw away the food AMY, I'll eat it. There are starving children and roommates who will gladly eat your Kraft Macaroni and Cheese if you don't want it. Not to mention the total asshole of a boyfriend you had, the one who like to throw up over our balcony for hours the morning after our parties rather than using the bathroom or going home and according to him "was hung like a light switch". He was a tool.
The actual wedding ceremony was great, very short but very touching. After the wedding Amy and Ben greeted each row of guests and as I approached them Ben said "Uh, oh. Here comes trouble." Clearly the man has spent some time with me.
There was one personal hiccup though, one of our other roommates was at the wedding. I've not spoken to her since February when she stood me up for the Kathy Griffin show, she never called to apologize, she stopped taking my calls and really I want nothing at all to do with her. But for Amy's sake I played nice and pretended that nothing happened and so did she (which isn't anything new, her M.O. is to be a bitch and then pretend she was never mad at you). So that sucked but whatever, I won't talk to her again if I can possibly avoid it.
And then there were several of the bridesmaids, whom I went to college with, who acted like they had sucked on lemons and were constipated when I said hello to them after the wedding. They were pretty bitch-tastic in college and time has only intensified that. Although a couple of them proved to be hilarious when at the reception they cut off the bottom's of their dresses to better dance in.
Ben is from Boston so there was a thick conglomeration of hilarious Boston accents, like his cousin (with each ear pierced with thick gold hoops- like a pimp but on a super irish white guy) who went absolutely crazy when someone brought out a video camera and the DJ's played Insane-in-the-membrane. This guy basically created his own music video my randomly screaming into the video camera while popping up and down in and out of the frame, I really don't think Cypress Hill could hold a candle to this guy and his enthusiasm or showmanship. What was even funnier was that on the limo-bus back to the hotel he sat behind me and kept telling everyone how "Wicked wasted I am. I'm totally going to puke on my shoes."
Limo buses to and from the hotel to reception rock. It allows the partying to start earlier and for semi-drunken friends to ask the bar for beers the road on the way back to the hotel. The party should not stop at the reception, so thank you Amy and Ben.
And of course there was the fact that it was Ben and Amy's doing that I kissed a DJ at the last wedding we were all at together, so this time Ben came to me on the dance floor and said "Hey, what are you doing over here? The DJ's are that way." That boy has a smart mouth, and thus will forever be in my good graces.
And I did talk to the DJ's, twice. One to ask them to play the Apt. #2 theme song and then a second time to yell at them for playing the theme song during the dollar dance. I really did run up to the DJ booth and yell at them "You can't play this song now. It's for the roommates ONLY. STOP IT." The DJ looked at me and said "You really want me to stop this song in the middle?" Like I had just asked him to take off all of his clothes and do the Hokey Pokey with Amy's grandma. And really, that wouldn't have been so scandelous since he had already done some sort of floor humping dance during The Atomic Dog (mimed sex acts at wedding receptions are always awesomely appropriate).
"Yes, the Bride demands it." I said pointing at her protesting on the dance floor and he acquiesced.
Most of my dance moves consisted of me dancing halfway across the floor and then back towards my friends, like we were playing some odd version of Red Rover. I do believe I busted out 'the sprinker' a couple of times as well. As for embarrassing myself- it doesn't matter, I'm sure they've seen me do a lot worse than bad dance moves at this point.
Later in the evening Apt. #2 took it to that place where we were the most obnoxious people in the room by holding hands and screaming the lyrics of Making Love Out of Nothing At All by Air Supply.
It was the perfect end to the evening.
Then I went back to the hotel and played with the awesome sleep number bed. My magic sleep number is 30 or 35.
Labels: Awesomeness, drinking, wedding
