Friday, April 30, 2010

Courtesy of C.W. Lucas

Note: below is an email I was copied on.  Just look at what my life has become...every word of the following makes complete sense.  At least it's not a life of calf-castration.  (That's a PW reference.  Sorry, I'm obsessed.)  Carry on.

2010 Kentucky Derby
Corey’s Selections and Analysis

This year’s edition of the Derby is very captivating; there’s a ton of speed, a few deep closers, a filly, and then of course a couple that don’t seem to belong, but then again, who thought that Mine That Bird or Giacomo would win? Not very many, yet they both went off a tad higher than 50‐1 and walked away with the roses.

Lookin At Lucky (3‐1) is a serious contender, he can rate, sit just off the lead, close from far back, and seems to do whatever he is asked; the problem is: he’s breaking from the #1 post…can’t use him on top.

Sidney’s Candy (5‐1) has speed, yet he’s out in the 20 path; yes, I know, Big Brown was too, but he didn’t need the lead, Sidney looks like he might, and with all the other speed…gotta pass.

Dublin (12‐1) has the pedigree to win this and will be running late; he has run 3 solid beyers this year(97,93,96) Lukas put a couple nice works into him, and I think he’s sitting on a big effort. He certainly has the stamina; he’s out of Afleet Alex, who won 2/3 of the Triple Crown himself. The dam, Classy Mirage, provides speed and a lot of class underneath. Now, why is Terry Thompson up?? If he can hang on, Dublin might just win this at a price.

Jackson Bend (15‐1) who we have not heard a whole lot about will be on my tickets. He has never run worse than 2nd in 9 starts…running 2nd to Eskendereya twice. Shows two nice works for Zito; I like this guy to run a good one.

Noble’s Promise (12‐1) nearly ran down one of the probable favorites, and almost outlasted his another time (I’m talking about Lookin at Lucky) I will use him; I think he can sit just off the pace, and providing he gets a good trip might be around at the finish.

Ice Box (10‐1)….no thanks, he hasn’t shown me anything, other than his ability to close in a weak field and hot pace. He was all out to beat Pleasant Prince, who has since come back to run off the board. He will face much better Saturday afternoon, in a crowded field. I will pass on him…might get over bet as well.

Awesome Act (10‐1) and Discreetly Mine (30‐1) might have a shot if they can rate. Awesome Act lost a shoe last race, and still managed to run on and finish pretty well. If he runs back to his Gotham, he could be very dangerous.

Dean’s Kitten…..really????

Final selections:

1. Dublin (12‐1)

2. Awesome Act (10‐1)

3. Jackson’s Bend (15‐1)

4. Noble’s Promise (12‐1)

Friday Confessions

1. I would like to find a job that included nap time as a company policy.

2. My Friday nights are spent baking. Because I am a 75 year old grandmother.

3. I really do think those Reebok butt shapers will make me look like the girls in the commercials. "Who wears short shorts?" Well if I had those shoes I could, but I wouldn't because I like to set a good example for the younger wanna-be hootchies.

4. My friend had a baby last Thursday. She has since uttered the words "nipple confusion" and I am now concerned for all future conversations.

5. I really did walk around NYC on Sunday with my fly down. Again.

6. A driver's ed car went by my office on Tuesday. It was on a flat bed with a smashed front end. Oh how I laughed at the poor flunky's expense.

7. My parents taught me a harsh, humiliating lesson in stealing when I was three.  I have never even considered taking so much as a dust bunny from any store, home, or baseball diamond since then.

8. I am in a hippie transformation process.  I now only eat free-range chicken, grass fed beef and cage free eggs.  I am also considering buying a Subaru and not wearing deodorant.

9. Tomorrow is the Kentucky Derby, one of Corey's favorite days.  I will be walking the dog and eating nachos because I bring bad luck to horse racing and girl talk to boy time.

10. I ate dessert before dinner last night.  And then again after dinner.  Because I'm an adult.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish

Correction:  I might have implied yesterday that my parents were neglectful of my brain development by not reading to me.  Ever.  Apparently, being the first child and not having other brats to attend to, they read to me.  A lot.  While I sat on the potty waiting for my pee pees.

After posting yesterday, I received this email:

"What do you mean you don’t remember being read too???? We were always reading to you…how do you think you got potty trained...hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm???????????? Don’t you remember Are you my Mother????? And all the other Dr. Seuss books? You better get your little self right back on that blog and tell those 4 other followers just how often we read to you missy!!!

Love mom.

See, she exaggerates too.  Notice the excessive punctuation.  And maybe she underestimates the popularity of my quaint little blog.  But probably not.  At least she still loves me. 
Then my dad:
"She is in trouble!!!! She was read to all the time that I can remember......"

I told them I would post a correction today.  He said:
"Lets leave out the potty training thing tho."
Sorry daddy, I thought it was cute.  I guess I'm back to being a bad daughter again!

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Ten on Tuesday

1. Think back a decade, do you remember what your first cellphone was? Was it as cool as Zack Morris’s phone?
First let me say I am totally giddy over the Saved by the Bell reference.  Whoever came up with these questions just might be as geeky as me.  But I digress.  I had this guy:

With the goofy, awkward telephone pole sticking up at the top.   

2. What is the first children’s book you remember being read to you?
Let me preface this by saying Mick and Deb are totally awesome, loving, and devoted parents...but I don't remember a single book ever read to me.  Possibly because it was never done.

Man, I am in trouble.

3. What was your first car? Did you love it or hate it?
This is a source of bitterness in my family.  My parents bought a new Ford Escort for me and my mom to share, but since it was a little inconvenient they bought me my own car, a '93 Plymouth Laser.  Super cool.  But then I went away to college and my parents wanted me in a safe car, so I took the Escort.  To this day, my sisters still claim my parents bought me two cars. 

And they did

4. Who was your hero growing up?
This is going to paint a very shallow picture of me: I have no idea.  There were plenty of people I admired, but no one in particular I tried to emulate.  Is that what a hero is even for?  I'm confused by the question.

5. Think back to your first kiss. Was it everything you dreamed of?
Oh dear.  Do I have to answer this with my mother reading??  Yes?  Ok.  Here we go: ohmigoshtotallystinkinawesome.  And that's all I can say.

6. What was your first BAD hairstyle choice? (Extra points for embarrassing photos)
My choice was to not do my hair in 7th grade.  Yikes.  Frizzy and wavy.  I don't have to dig for a picture.  I can just take one tonight when I brush out my curls.

7. What was your first realistic dream? (One where you had to think “Oh dang, was that a dream?”)
I was three years old and there was a bear chasing me around trying to eat me.  The details have faded over the past 24 years.  But I hear that happens.

8. What was the first phobia you remember developing?
Water.  As in the kind you find in a lake possibly infested with screaming eels.  Thanks Auntie Cindy for cultivating this fear that has stayed with me for 21 years.

AC really hasn't gotten great press the past few days here.  Yeah, she exposed me to the best movie ever, which happened to also foster a debilitating fear of water I can't see through, and told me my body was made up of worms, but she is also a super hip lady and the main source of my creative ambition.  So she's coo.

9. Which character on Sesame Street do you most identify with?
This is hard.  I wish my long term memory worked.  Some days I like to think I'm an Ernie: aloof, playful and care-free.  Other days I'm Bert: rational and boring.  And then there are those Oscar days every month that I'd rather not talk about.

10. What was the hardest goal you ever accomplished?
Setting the family record for the most homemade tacos eaten at one sitting: 7.
See how I resort to funny in an effort to divert the topic away from the painful realization that I don't set goals because of my fear of failure?
But I exaggerate.  I don't set hard goals because, again, I just might be shallow.

Monday, April 26, 2010

A Midspring Day's Jaunt

What happens when you put a small town ding-dong in a place like New York City?

You get Stacie, fly down, walking into traffic, talking to strangers, limping in the wrong shoes, tripping over celebrities, comparing the smell of garbage, exhaust and homeless people on every corner to the blooming flowers in Saratoga.

Yes, we had a lovely trek through the city on Sunday.  Thank you for asking.

Corey and I went with his friend Jim to see his super talented daughter perform in an off-off Broadway version of A Midsummer Night's Dream.  Being a Shakespeare-for-Dummies flunky, I spent much of the time mouthing, "what the heck are they saying??" to Corey and listening for laughter cues from the audience.  I do think, though, I understood the main premise of the play:

There was a guy who likes a girl who is betrothed to a guy who likes the same girl, but the girl likes the other guy.  Another girl likes the guy the first girl doesn't like and at some point a fairy guy places a spell thing on them all and a crazy mixed up love triangle happens.

Then another fairy girl gets the same spell treatment and falls in love with a doofus actor.  This has something to do with a baby.  I have no idea where this baby fits in.

The fairy guy then fixes all the spells and the guy that likes the girl that likes the guy like each other again, and the other girl who likes the other guy still likes him, but he now likes her back and they all watch a horrible play at the king and his new wife's house.  I get the impression she isn't a fan of him, but that could just be the acting.  I do understand the backstage ickies that can cause a person to loathe romantic on stage scenes.  And that is hard to mask.

Even though there were no props and no set and no costumes, the guys in front of me were getting a little fresh...with each other, and my experience in the ladies room probably gave me scabies, I very much enjoyed the show and our very brief NYC experience.

But there is just something about home.  And my flamingo pajamas.  And Oliver.  And warm cookies and milk enjoyed wrapped in a fluffy green blanket while watching the History channel.  And knowing I will never have to worry about running into Lucy Liu on the streets of Saratoga with nothing for her to sign but my arm, a brand new umbrella, or leather purse.

Ahhhh, home.  There really is no place like it.

Friday, April 23, 2010

Friday Confessions

1.  I get cranky when I look frumpy.  I have been cranky all week.
2.  Corey made me mad Monday night so I doubled the amount of green peppers and onions in the casserole I made for dinner.  He originally asked for fewer veggies.
3.  Left the barn door open Tuesday.  Flashed ma goodies all over Glens Falls, both to and from the brownie store.
4.  I over-water plants.  My co-worker, Sharon, will come back from vacation next week to moldy ferns and violets, but that'll teach her for leaving me in charge.
5. We do not have a working DVD player.  Many a night I have needed a Nacho Libre fix....sigh.
6.  I am jealous of my boss's wardrobe.  My boss is 70.
7.  My Wii Fit asks me if I have any weekend plans and if I slept well.  I answer.  Then I get mad that we can't skip my morning body test to chat.  Then I remember video games can't talk back.  Then I get embarrassed.
8.  Today is my first dog, Lucy's, birthday.  She died when she was 4 from cancer and I cried for 3 years.
9.  Our vacuum broke.  We have an inch of dog hair on all surfaces, including the ones we eat from, and possibly the ones I've made food to serve to others from.
10. I have no will-power.  If a cake sits in front of me, I eat it until I vomit.  If brownies walk by, I follow and devour.  And then I yell at Corey for not eating his veggies.  Nice job.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Poor choices and tummy grumblies

I was out of commission yesterday thanks to a very bad stomach ache.

I'm assuming it was the creamy casserole, followed by the brownie, followed by the black beans, followed by the cake, followed by the cake, followed by the cookie Tuesday night that did me in.  Apparently my 27 year old stomach can no longer handle my normal eating habits.


So I decided it was best for me, and those who share our community bathroom at the office, to stay home.

And home I stayed.  Until I went out to lunch with Corey, where I ate a buffalo chicken sandwich topped with bleu cheese dressing and a couple greasy fries on the side and a frosted brownie cake for dessert.

In hindsight, that probably wasn't the best idea.

But I digested.  And all is well.

Shopping and Sleep Talking; by Corey

Regarding "Ten on Tuesday; #4"......Just window shop? I have gone in there to purchase things with you. Actually, I'm pretty sure you still have a gift card(or 2) in your purse....wake up!!

On another note -

Last night(or better yet this morning at 2am)

Corey: "Do you want a drink"?
Stacie: "Yes, you cause me to drink"
(3-4 second pause)
Stacie: " Point me in the direction of the sauce, no way around it, I drink"

The End

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Ten on Tuesday

1. What two cities should be moved closer together?
All of them.  I am too impatient to travel long distances to the places I most want to visit.  And the places I most want to visit are always changing depending on the weather, time, hormones, etc.

2. What was the first plane ride you took?
I flew from Chicago to Washington (the state) to visit my aunt when I was 13.  Scariest.  Thing.  Ever.  I was convinced at every bout of turbulence we were going down.  I might have screamed once.

3. What continent would you most like to visit?
Europe.  No wait, Africa.  Or South America.  Oh, but Asia might be nice this time of year.  But definitely North America and those Canadians, eh?  And Australia.  Antartica: hecks no.

4. What’s your favorite place to window-shop?
Aggie's, a boutique in downtown Saratoga.  It's the closest I'll ever get to $200 jeans, a $200 t-shirt, and $200 underthings.  Not sure what makes $200 unmentionables different than my Target ones, but whatever.

5. What’s the least fun you’ve ever had at a place specifically tailored for fun?
I went out on New Year's Eve to several establishments in which I assume others were having fun.  So much fun they trampled me, threatened Corey, and pulled each other's hair out.  It was super cool.

6. You’re stuck on an island with plenty of food, a companion, and a relatively stress-free lifestyle. What do you say when the rescue ship comes?
"Thanks for stopping by!"

7. Which day of the week do you look forward to most?
Friday.  I wear jeans to work.  My co-worker's babies come in to visit.  I go home and put my feet up.  I stay up late doing absolutely nothing, knowing I can sleep in in the morning (although I never do).  And I treat myself to greasy, fatty, bloaty junk. 

8. What’s your favorite place to enjoy the great outdoors?
I love, love, love the Adirondacks.  There's six million acres to explore.  For serious.

9. What’s on your “to do” list this summer?
Camp, hike, kayak, repeat.

10. Which natural disaster freaks you out the most?
This is silly.  Remember the movie The Day After Tomorrow?  Where NYC gets flooded and then freezes and everyone has to move to Mexico?  Yeah, that is what freaks me out.  I hated that movie, but I still watch it occasionally because Jake Gyllenhaal is easy on the eyes.

Monday, April 19, 2010

The gang's all here!

Have you heard of Glens Falls, New York?

Maybe not.  Unless you live here.  Or you're into urological diagnostic and interventional products.  Or paper.

It's where I work.
A small town.

But I've learned it's not too small for gang activity.

I can't tell you enough how much I feel at home when I see boxers and butt cracks hanging out over saggy jeans with red, blue or purple bandanas looped through belt loops. 

I understand the Blood, Crip, and peace colors, but I'm not quite sure which group Cookie Monster apparel represents...

It all takes me back to my days at Bret Harte Elementary School in Long Beach, California.  (Named after the author, not the wrestler.  But isn't it funny Mr. Harte was born just 30 miles south of where I live today?)

We weren't allowed to wear British Knights because the BK logo was also used by the local Blood Killers.  Thanks guys.  Instead of cool pink shoes with multi colored laces I had to get Reebok high tops known for their excellent arch support among grandmothers.

And L.A. Raiders gear was also out for the same reason.  This did not affect me.  Neither me nor my Barbies owned, or wanted to own, any such clothing.

Perhaps this, and the drive by the previous year, prompted gang education classes that began when I was in Mrs. Montgomery's fourth grade class (also the teacher who caused me to miss my straight A prize: a blue bike that changed colors in the sun. Still bitter.)  This class, along with pamphlets now handed out to area educators upon the upsurge in gang presence, is how I can recognize the Cookie Monster Crips walking by my office daily.

Apparently, untapped drug markets like Glens Falls are extremely attractive to hoodlums.

Luckily, most of these guys are still relatively harmless.  They spray paint "LILT" on buildings and make drug runs for the really scary guys in New York City.  But thanks to ex-Latin Queen Ms. Garcia and my two weeks of gang education, should the situation escalate I feel fully capable of protecting the entire community from the threat of gang violence with my bare hands.  And bulletproof vest.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Friday Confessions

1.  I have been a motionless blob all week.  My boss should be collecting money from me.
2.  I want a bird.  I want a little colorful bird that I can keep in a fancy antique cage next to a ficus tree on which I will allow it to roam.  It will be friends with my dog and I will find them, on occasion, curled up together napping.
3.  I often live in a fantasy world.
4.  My first day back to my cardio-kickboxing routine was Tuesday.  I haven't been able to walk normal since.
5.  Kimberlie's bulldog puppy has a scrunchy face.  I sometimes put the palm of my hand over the front of her face and pretend like I have to push on her nose to keep it scrunchy like that.
6.  I am prone to motion sickness.  I get sick in a car, plane, boat, wobbly chair, etc.
7.  I used to think our bodies were made up of worms.  I think my Aunt Cindy confirmed this.
8.  I clogged the toilet Tuesday morning and left for work and left it for Corey to fix.
9.  I clog the toilet often.  I blame my perfectly efficient constitution.
10. Most recent guilty pleasure: butter.  It makes the world go 'round.  But I exaggerate.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

A foray in fondant

Corey likes my craft projects.

He asks me, "Are you an artist?"

I laugh.  An artist is someone who is talented and dedicated.

I have a Martha Stewart magazine and tons of glue.

And that's how I prefer it.  Artists have to hone their trade.  Perfect it.  Live off it.  As a simple crafter, the pressure is just not there.  I can make lopsided felt balls while watching Law and Order.  I can paint over dust particles and dog hair that land on my gourds.  I can dabble in many different mediums. 

Oh, and dabble I do.  I've had my hands in clay, paint, wires, felt, paper, fabric, food, computer graphics, and sometimes a combination of them all.  The list gets goofier if I include projects for my art classes in college (pizza boxes, eyelash curler, doll hair, etc.).

Last week, my dabbling brought me to the world of cake decorating.  With fondant.  The Hideki Matsui* of decorating mediums.  Now, I am no stranger to cake, but up to this point my decorating experience was limited to whatever design I could swirl around with my knife in the Duncan Hines frosting before I face planted, mouth open, into the middle of the thing.

I let things get out of hand sometimes.

So with limited (read: no) knowledge of the deliciously sticky fondant and no time to spare for a do-over, I began to knead it, and color it, and knead it, and knead it, and roll it, and curse at it, and knead it, and roll it, and cut it. 

And then I had to make it fit on a round cake.

And then I got to play with different colors.

I made flowers and eventually my sister's nickname, Berlie. (it was her birthday)

It was lovely.

And then we chopped it up and ate it.  Pretty cake taste good.

*It's a sad day in girl world when thinking of analogies brings me to sports references.  Matsui is only the best (former, sadly) Yankee ever.  In the world.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Do think and drive

Last summer I was involved in a minor car accident.  A fender-bender.  But, it was my first of any kind (if you don't count the time Katie backed into me in the driveway) and it shook me up.

Allow me to illustrate:

Here's the scenario.  Wait...maybe I should highlight all the players.

Does that help? 

So here I am, driving down the street and through the intersection at which I have no stop sign.  Ms. Red Car does.  I am minding my own business.  Singing with Gloria Estefan when I notice Red Car start to make a slow left turn.  I assume she is going to pull in behind me.


I exaggerate.  It was more like a "blurp" or a "harunk."  Nevertheless, there was contact, of what magnitude I had no idea at this point.  So I pull over.  She does, too.  And then she sits in her car with "what the crunck?" hands up.  I think to myself, incredulously, "does she think this was my fault??"

I get out of my car as a good samaritan passes by, window down, and yells, "thanks for stopping IN the road!"   Definitely a shortage of these fine individuals here in upstate New York.

She gets out of her car and surveys the damage done to her grandmother's Jetta.

The side of the bumper popped off and there were scratches.  I surveyed the damage done to my car.  Nothin'.  We call the cops anyway.  In the meantime, she gets on the phone with her dad.

She spends the next 15 minutes trying to explain to Officer Lindsey how the accident was my fault.  She made diagrams using sidewalk lines and sticks.  She used passing cars as examples of our accident.  She even presented my "sorry, if I had seen you there I would have let you in" as admission of guilt.

He finally told her she was wrong.  He popped her bumper back in place and we all went on our way.  I find out later she is friends with my sister.  Red Car is still convinced of her innocence.

The moral of this story is that there are some real space cadets out there, and someone is letting them get behind the wheel.  Watch yourself.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Ten on Tuesday

1. What book, movie or song has made you want to travel to a particular place?
Oh my.  It's usually the books that make me want to travel.  Cellophane painted a pretty picture of the jungles of South America.  Peony in Love made Japan so romantic.  The Last Empress made me want to discover the history of China.  Crime and Punishment, on the other hand, is keeping me out of Russia.

2. Aside from your significant other, who would you want to take with you on a dream trip?
Daddy-O.  He's the only other person who is blindly adventurous.  And I loves me a good adventure.

3. Where would said dream trip be to?
Maybe the ruins in South America, or the ruins in Greece, or the ruins in Egypt.  Are you noticing a pattern here?

4. If you were hosting guests or providing tips, what three things would you show visitors to your hometown? (be it where you live now or where you grew up)
My hometown?  I don't even know where that is: lived in Long Beach, CA for 11 years, lived in Elkhart, IN for 11 years, currently live in Saratoga Springs, NY.  Let's tour....Elkhart: we would go to Hacienda for the worst Mexican food ever, then to Concord High School where I would run around the blacktop band field, playing air-trombone, demonstrating marching from chart to chart (do I mention band enough?), and finally we would go back to Hacienda for mudslides...the dessert, not the drink.  There, uh, isn't much to do in Elkhart.

5. If you had a long weekend ahead of you, where you head – beach, city or country/mountains?
That depends on one thing...can I bring Oliver??

6. Do you have a passport? If so, did you get it for a particular trip or just to have, in case?
I have had my passport since spring break my senior year in high school when my family went to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.  It was on this vacation when I discovered my fear of heights, while parasailing.

7. Are there any travel souvenirs you collect? If not, is there something else you collect?
I am currently not collecting anything.  See "crap post" from yesterday.  Although, I do search out native jewelry, Murano glass from Italy, turquoise from Mexico, and then lose it.

8. If you could name a paint colour, what colour would it be and what would you call it?
Whimsy Chicken would be a bright yellow/orange.

9. If you were heading away for a weekend citybreak solo, where would you go? (forget about practicality here and flight times, assume you can get to any city in the world for the weekend)
New Zealand, where my favorite comedy duo, Bret and Jemaine, will personally escort me around the country, and then cry when I leave because they think I'm the awesomest American they've ever met.  Which is the reaction I usually get when I have to leave.

10. Is there a song or a smell or something that you strongly associate with a particular holiday/place/time, such that it always takes you back?
Yesterday I was walking through the hallway of our hotel in Lake Placid and it reminded me of my dorm room.  Random.  Other than that it's the usual: cinnamon reminds me of Christmas, albondigas soup reminds me of grandma, and Kanye's Gold Digger reminds me of Saratoga Summer of '05.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Counting the days.....

Opening day at Saratoga is the most exciting day of the year.....hands down. For those of you who are saying, "track, what track,"? Here's a little background for you...

Saratoga is a special place that is only open for 6 weeks each year; late July through Labor Day. They run horses here. I meet close friends (some that I only see during these 6 wonderful weeks) Many of them come from far away just to bask in the sun at this lovely race course while enjoying some of the best racing in the world. We enjoy great food and beverages throughout the day, sometimes while sitting in lavish box seats, or at a fabulous table in the Turf Terrace, or sometimes just roaming around the second floor of the Club House. No matter what, if you're there, you are sure to see us.

Win or lose we're in heaven. We just love it here. There's much more to it than just the racing. After the last race(usually around 6:00pm) we all walk about 200 yards to the northwest to our other favorite spot, Siro's. This place is amazing. There are 3 bars under canopys. Its the only place you can fold a slice of pizza into a tiny little square, its that thin...yet sooooo good! They have a raw bar as well, clams, shrimp, etc...etc...we usually stroll inside around 8pm to the piano bar to find a packed house...this is where the real entertainment starts...

During the second week of the meet we attend the Fasig-Tipton Yearlings of the many highlights for me during the meet. They have the best cheeseburgers you will ever eat (aside from the Noon Mark Diner in Keene Valley) If you're thirsty (which we always are) they offer $9 cocktails too (not kidding).

Just the thought of this is so exhilarating, I must now stop before I scream with joy....once we're a little closer, I'll continue this; the countdown is on....only about 96 more days until opening week is upon us all!

Secondhand junk on the brain

Corey is counting down to track season.

I am counting down to garage sale season.

Yes, I know there is a "no crap" rule in our house, but I am banking on my gift of BS to make even a literal pile of crap look like the essential tool for my latest craft project.  Rest assured, however, I will not be purchasing an actual piece of poo.  Because really, with three living, breathing and eating bodies in our household we aren't so short on the stuff.

Plus, the definition of "crap" is entirely subjective.  According to Corey, anything that doesn't come with a straight-from-the-factory smell is crap.

My mom is really freaking out, by the way, at my liberal use of her less favorite word.

On my scavenger hunt list for this garage sale season:
  • cow creamer
  • junk wool sweaters
  • old keys
  • old door knobs
  • more buttons, always more buttons
  • funky patterned clothes
  • soap dish
I should point out that I do not intend to wear the clothes I am in search of.  That's a little icky to me.  They will be sliced and diced and transformed into little rose balls and aprons...someday.

The cow creamer, however, will be in use.  Heebie-jeebies do not come into play when I can sterilize objects in the dishwasher (if this is not possible, please, for my peace of mind, do not point it out.  thanksomuch).

If you know of any garage/estate sales within 40 miles of Saratoga Springs let me know ay-sap.  I'll need to schedule time blocks, map out routes, assign designated drivers (dangerous to browse and drive), recruit secondary shoppers, laminate itineraries, etc.


Saturday, April 10, 2010

A blogger's lament

Folks, blogging is hard.  There is a certain amount of pressure involved to constantly think of something interesting to keep all five of you...interested.

Yes, that level of pressure is relatively low considering there's just five of you.

But still, pressure is pressure.

Do you honestly think that much happens in either Corey's or my day to fill even two paragraphs?

Here I will briefly outline our life:

I wake up.  I take dog for a walk.  I read.  I make breakfast.  Corey wakes up.  We fight for bathroom/shower time.  Get ready for work.  Leave for work.  Work (kind of).  Watch people walk by.  Eat.  Work.  Talk to co-workers (in Corey's case, harass co-workers).  Go home.  Walk dog.  Corey: sit at computer.  Stacie: sit on couch.  Watch TV.  Eat.  Watch TV.  Stacie: go to bed.  Corey: watch TV.

See.  Not a lot going on here.

We're all pret-ty lucky I have developed the gift of exaggeration.

But I exaggerate.  We really aren't that boring.  Just today we had a very colorful conversation about my inability to dispense of leftovers stuck to the sides of my little Tupperware containers.  Don't get me started.  I could fill up your hard drive and crash the whole system on that topic alone.  Because seriously, is it really the end of the world to leave three little dried up black beans in a container I was fully intending to soak for at least a week?  I think not, but I digress.

Speaking of digressing, what's that smell??

Friday, April 9, 2010

Friday Confessions

1.  I can't kill bugs.  Walt Disney convinced me at a very young age that not only do bugs have personalities, feelings and families, they are also very aware of their appearances.  I also am unable to part with furniture, appliances and stuffed animals.
2.  I decorated a cake for Kimberlie's birthday dinner using fondant.  While kneading the ball 'o sugar, I dropped it on the floor.  Being the only package of fondant I bought, I picked it up, "dusted" it off and rolled it out.
3.  Can't stand loud noises.  Cannot stand 'em.  And that most definitely includes loud TV, squeaky doors, and Corey's morning ritual of yelling for the dog sitting right next to him.
4.  When my left arm/shoulder hurts I assume I am having a heart attack.  When my wrist hurts it's bone cancer.  And when my big toe hurts it's gout.  However, my doctor is under the impression I am perfectly healthy.
5.  I had an altercation with a tubby 9 year old boy last Thursday.  He used foul language, I motioned for him to go, he called me a b*!@#.  Kids.
6.  I can sing the theme song from Golden Girls because I love the show.
7.  On my Facebook page I listed my political views as 80-year-old Conservative.  And it is so true.  Let's never talk politics because I will only infuriate you.
8.  I want to do something outrageously cut my hair, paint my nails red, or move to another country!
9.  I want four kids.  I told Corey I want seven so four doesn't seem quite as unmanageable.  Also the sales technique I used when buying a $70 sweater.  Alone: too much.  Next to $120 jeans: reasonable.
10. I went two years without washing my car.  After we all forgot what color was hiding under 4 layers of grime, my dad took it to the car wash.  My car is green.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Corey: A model of hard work and high fashion

Corey is busy today.  He works hard at his job.  And that is good for me in two ways:

  1. He supports us.  That's a big one.  See, I like to eat and I also like to be warm when it's cold outside.  He makes it happen.  Yeah, I work too, but that's just to support our Mexican take-out habit.
  2. He doesn't have time to blog.  How many times I've heard "I'm putting that in the blog!" I can't even keep track anymore.  Sometimes it's in retaliation for putting up pictures like this:

Or this...

But mostly it's to make sure you know I'm as big a doofus as he is.  Although, I was not the one who left our car keys in Las Vegas, leaving us stranded in Newark.  A little flour mishap pales in comparison.

Now I'm going to end with a nice picture to prevent a future rant on my borderline psychotic obsession with wasting water (as in, I'm strongly against it), for example.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Paint Overboard

I love the paint program on my computer in the same way I love grown-up cartoons...childlike appearance but adult content.

I recently went through old paint files on my computer and had myself a brief chuckle.  I'll share them, but I promise you will think I am the weirdest person you almost know.

But first: I spend a great deal of time chatting via email with my friend Jill.  Oftentimes, it is necessary to illustrate a conversation.  The following pictures are part of those conversations:

I, uh, don't remember this conversation, but the long standing joke is that Jill looks like Suzanne Somers (you can see the resemblance in the lips, I think I captured them perfectly)...

...and I look like Gina Davis.  See, we both have mannish jaw lines.  And angry eyebrows, apparently.

I was day dreaming about the Reese's candy bar I stashed in my drawer.  Notice the detail in the eyelashes, and eyebrows look less angry here.  It's hard to be angry when you're thinking of chocolate.
My after work plans.  Can you guess what they are?  Can you guess why I gave myself a beak, a brick in my pants, and a receding hairline?

This was not actually part of a conversation.  It was my response to one of my wedding guest's comments about how we did not include a picture with our thank you cards like "everyone" else.  See how appreciative Corey and I look in this rendering?  No, I don't either...
And this is why I'm weird.  Ok, now we're back to conversations with Jill.  We were trying to solve the mystery of the pee splatters in her office bathroom.  The case: she would often find said random splatters on the toilet seats in the ladies room (duh).  The culprit: unknown.  My theory as illustrated above: old lady hover (note the granny socks pulled up to the knees).  She does not want to sit on the seat, nor does she have the leg strength to hover within inches of it, so she hovers 6+ inches above, causing the pee to fall from a greater distance allowing it to gain speed and create a bigger splash.  Although convincing, Jill went with a different theory.

I have a few more that involve me trying out different hair styles, but I'm saving those for a rainy day...and a brain fart.  ("jeez, why does she always have to go there with the fart talk??")

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Ten on Tuesday

1. If you could travel back in time, would you? What decade would you visit?  Yes.  I'd spend some time in my California, Olive Avenue days; playing tag in the church parking lot, Chinese jump rope at school, witnessing gun fights and robberies.  Then I'd visit band camp.  Forget what you've heard, band is cool.  And I'd finish my time travel tour in my college years; hanging out with my besties, playing orange soda games.
2. What was your best Halloween costume? (fun to make? most creative?) Warren/Washington County Toof Fairy.  Old ballet tutu and tights, frizzy hair and slippers.  My "business cards" were rolls of smarties.

3. Do you like your name? If you weren’t called by your name, what would you want to be called?  I do now.  Before I was indifferent to it...and most things.  But, if I did change it, I would want to be called Princess Consuela Bananahammock.  I wish I could take credit for that.

4. In the past year, what is the BEST recipe you made. Please share it!  Every Pioneer Woman recipe I've ever made has been equally delicious.  Most recently life by chocolate cupcakes and creamy lemon crumb squares.  Currently I have a very strong hankerin' for caramelized onion and prosciutto pizza.  Check 'em out.  Tell 'ol Pee-Dubs I sent ya.  She'll have no idea who you're talking about.

5. Look around – what is the nearest object or picture hanging on the wall?  Cards posted on my cork board at work (yes, sometimes [read: all the time] I blog at work) thanking my boss for all of my hard work in resolving a pressing issue.

6. What was the last movie you saw in a theater? Would you recommend it?  Mom-in-law took me to see Amelia last year.  I liked the story, but spent most of the movie trying to place Hilary Swank's accent.  Overall: C.

7. Did you go to summer camp? Will you/do you send your kids to camp?  I totally went to summer camps.  Church camp, YMCA camp, band camp, soccer camp.  And they were all super fun.  Kids will be summer camping.

8. What kind of ringtone do you have?  None.  My phone vibrates.  Upon calling recently, I told Corey "my vibrator is dying."  He didn't know what to say.  I meant the vibrate function on my phone.

9. Where is the farthest away from home you have ever been?  Florence, Italy.  Best. Place.  Ever.

10. Has anyone ever written a song or a poem for or about you?  Probably one out there comparing my face to a butt or something.  I would frown against being a part of something sappy.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Weird dog love

Oh.  My.

What a weekend.  I still can't get over the weather: 70's AND sunny.  I learned my first summer in New York that sunny doesn't usually follow high temperatures as it does in California.  It took a little getting used to constant rain and clouds and gloom (as I search real estate listings in Arizona...).

I didn't work on Friday, and Corey only did until noon, so we spent the afternoon together.  First on the list, lunch.  To be directly followed by grocery shopping.  He needed trash bags, I needed 50 other things.  So, we drove downtown for lunch at Putnam Market, a delicious natural foods store where I can eat free range turkey until it comes out of my ears.

Why did we drive downtown when we live no more than three blocks away, you ask?

I myself attempted to find an answer to that question using my best nagging techniques as we circled the town twice, ending up less than 100 yards from the apartment, spending much more time finding the parking space than it would have taken to walk there, eat, and walk back, but to no avail.

As we passed Congress Park (the first time) I spotted a Saint Bernard.  I shrieked.  I love dogs, but I loooooove big dogs.

"Corey, LOOK!!  It's a Saint Bernard!"

"Oh yeah, it looks like so-and-so (I can't remember what name he said because I was shocked that he actually spent time to not only talk to a dog person but make the effort to remember its name, unlike me...)"

"Man, he's so hairy.  He's HOT."

", sexy??"

Oh, Corey.

I laughed and laughed and snorted and laughed and almost forgot about how inefficiently we were using our time at that moment.

Now, he swears he was joking, but I swear he wasn't.  Given his past vocabulary whoopsies, I know one of us is correct....

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Chocolate covered nutrients

I am not usually one to question God's design, but I think I ran across an error.

Broccoli does not taste good.

Asparagus does not taste good.

Zucchini does not taste good.

But chocolate cake, pecan pie, and peach cobbler do.

The problem lies in the stomach ache.  You will not get a stomach ache from eating too much broccoli because you will never eat too much broccoli because it does not taste good.   You will, however feel immense pain from eating an entire chocolate cake (know this from experience) because the odds are great that you will eat the entire thing because it is chocolate and chocolate is good.

But, for some reason, it is the broccoli and the asparagus and the zucchini and the brussel sprouts and the spinach and all of the other rabbit foods that your body needs.  So my question is: why can't we need pecan pie?  What about bread pudding or flan?  What's so wrong with the nutrients in Godiva cheesecake?

I can't speculate where things went wrong, I just know they did.  Allow me to prove myself using a lower species of the animal kingdom: lions.  These big, beautiful cats chase and eat antelopes.  The meat is nourishment for their bodies.  They lick their lips.  Because antelopes taste good.  What do they stay away from?  Horney toads, because they do not taste good.  And as everyone in the entire world knows, frogs are not good...for anything.  They are probably poisonous.  And cause warts.  You should not eat them.  Even in fancy French restaurants.  And you probably shouldn't dissect them in biology class.  They're better off sitting on their lily pads with their frog wives and frog babies.

And then there are dogs.  Sometimes they eat their poop.  Why else would they do this if it wasn't delicious and nutritious?

I think the best solution is to make carrots taste like cookies, broccoli taste like pineapple upside down cake, cauliflower like banana split, etc.

Excuse me, you're saying you enjoy veggies the way they are?


You heard, read me.

I would put down the $40 Corey allows me to have each month (kidding) that you boil those veggies down until they're malleable and swallow them whole.  No?  You soak them in butter.  No?  You bread them and fry them.  Yes??  I knew I'd get to the bottom of it, because no one can honestly say they like the all natural essence of a turnip.

The bottom line here is that someone (looks up) should probably correct this little mistake so that someone else ( mirror) can stop hiding baby spinach where it doesn't belong.  Like in a burrito.  On a pizza.  Or in a brownie sundae.


Friday, April 2, 2010

Friday Confessions

1.  Gerard Butler.  (also the first item on my birthday list)
2.  I woke up to snow last week.  I cried.
3.  To spell "together" I have to, to this day, sound out "to-get-her."  I still can't spell restaurant or exercise right (thank you spell check).
4.  I don't know how to boil an egg.
5.  My favorite "comfort" movies  are The Mummy, Indiana Jones, and The Silence of the Lambs.  Weird, right?
6.  Both my dad and Corey have told me I chew too loud.  So when I eat lunch at my desk I have to time my chewing with the start of the heater and my officemate's phone conversations.  Thanks guys.
7.  Confessions are getting me in trouble.  I'm grounded from last week's post.
8.  My favorite show on TV is about a chemistry teacher dying of cancer who gets himself into all kinds of shenanigans while making and selling methamphetamine.  There is something seriously wrong with me.
9.  I walk around with the screen door wide open: I can't be trusted to remember to do anything beyond the two motions it normally takes to put my pants back together, button-zip.  If those two motions are used to double button I'm in big, embarrassing trouble.
10.  My mom recently had surgery on her foot.  My sister took time off from work to help her.  I made fun of her ugly shoe and pretended like I was going to stomp on her toe.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

All Fools Day...great

I got fooled.  Again.

"Hey, have you left the house yet?"

"No, why?"

"I just got rear ended."


"Yeah, right outside of the dance museum.  I might need a ride to work, my tire is all sideways."

"Ok.  You want me to come down now??"

"HA HA!  April Foooools!!"



Corey knows the best way to fool me, or anyone, is to make his stories within the realm of possibility.  It helps that I am, by nature, an honest and trusting person....oh, and gullible as a third grader.

 But sometimes stories outside of that realm turn out to be true... 

I spent a considerable amount of time in high school (read: dated) with a country boy named Andy.  He lived in a real log cabin on 25+ acres in farm country.  True to farmer form, Andy owned a pet goat, Bloat, that he loved dearly.

On April 1st of 1999 we had this conversation:


"Hi.  What's up?"

"Bloat's dead."

"Wha....oh, Ha.  Ha.  Very funny."

"No, really.  He got all tangled up and...choked...."

"Hahaha, nice one Andy."

"No.  Really.  Bloat.  Is  Dead."

"No he's not."

"Yes he is.  I came home and there he was.  Dead."

"I'm sure ya did.  Nice try.  So what time are we going to the movie."



more silence


Nice one.

Then there was the time I made a fool out of myself in front of my new co-workers when I spread the good news I read in our local paper's April 1st edition:

"They are going to rebuild the dam using beavers!  Brilliant!  Because, think about it, beavers know how to build dams!"

Really Stace?  Beavers?

In summary, I do not like this day.  I usually feel stupid in some way on this day.  I wish it was April 2nd.

The End.