Dear Readers:
Bear with me when I tell you that I double fist-pumped the air as I typed Last Blog of 2009! Woo-hoo! I am so proud of myself, and as always I thank you. As we proceed to give you what you need, I need you to know that my contacts are a little dry, I'm at a strange pc AND its New Year's Eve. I know its only 7:29, but I am two hard drinks and two beers in, so please bear with me. Don't worry I'm not Drunkedly McDrunk Drunk, nor do I aspire to be so. There is so much I want to wrap up in this blog.
However, (somehow the paragraph does not seem to end right, damn you Jack Danials) I don't have too much time, nor do I have the focus, but I can tell you BEYOND THE SHADOW OF THE DOUBT THAT I'VE BEEN DYING TO WRITE YOU since I saw the movie that changes the lives of all bloggers, Julie & Julia, or the other way around....
Julie and Julia is the story of an ordinary chick (see me) who decides to start a blog (see me x2) in which she completes all the recipes in the Julia Childs cookbook.
Those of you who know me in my ordinary life know that I love to cook. It only makes sense that someone (oink) who enjoys eating should enjoy cooking. Imagine how excited I was to watch this movie.
It was like watching me. I was played by...Amy Adams..I think. Anyhow, I don't have time to go to one of the greatest sites ever, IMDB (internet movie data base) but I am pretty sure it was Amy Adams. She did a great job playing me. She kept telling her husband (ew..not so much me) that her Readers (thats you guys) would miss her blog.
I can tell you that the one thing that differed with my story and hers is that HER DEAR READERS started sending her gifts. Not gifts like NY&Co cards, but foodie gifts to help complete her recipes. I would say that that sort of thing only happens in movies starring Amy Adams, BUT the movie was based on true events.
mmhmm We are going to just let that tidbit go.
Anyhow, she talked so fondly about her Readers, I feel like she got it...like she gets us.
Oh boy, I have been informed that Spence is here. While I don't know Spence, I do know that I am on a strange pc in someone else's home and the statement "Spence is here!", roughly translates that its time to eat.
I want to return to you, Dear Readers, there is so much more for us to discuss before 2010...but time is running out. I know you don't want me to miss dinner!
You get me, that's why I love you.
Lola
Perhaps I will be back before the BALL drops, but if not...I LOVE YOU. THANK YOU FOR VISITING, READING, COMMENTING, MOSTLY LOVING ME! I DON'T COME FROM A TERRIBLE BROKEN HOME, BUT IF I DID, I WOULD FEEL COMPLETED BY MY DEAR READERS! BE CAREFUL, BUT HAVE FUN...if fun means drinking until you puke all over a loved one, I strongly caution you against such base behavior...there are only a few Lovely's in the world that can withstand such pressure.......mmmhmmm.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
42nd Street...I Mean Tuesday, 42nd Tuesday!
Greetings Readers!
Its all about good stuff..that's what IT'S about! I'm in high spirits today and I hope you all are too. We had Secret Santa at work today and I got a gift card to my FAVORITE STORE, NY&Co. Dear Readers who want to earn gold stars, should jot that fact down.
Today I got up and decided that in light of the fact that it is less than 48hrs to my holiday break, I would really dress up to commemorate the occasion. I want to tell you what I'm wearing, however, we all (or you all allow me to believe) that my identity is a secret. I will tell you that I am wearing holiday colors and a big black satin bow in my hair and a big green ribbon around my neck.
I'm like Gossip Girl and Santa had a baby. There is so much on my mind and I am trying to keep things light and airy. This morning I had a momentary blah, but I just looked in a mirror, straightened my satin ribbon and kept on moving.
Life is good, its so good. One of my Dear Readers arrived home safely from a trip yesterday. Welcome back, I hope you received my voicemail.
Uh oh...upset in the ranks of Dear Readers!? I do sometimes pick up the phone. If I have your number, you know that. If I could I would call you ALL tomorrow at 5am to gaily announce, TODAY IS THE LAST TIME I'M WAKING BEFORE 9 UNTIL NEW YEAR!
If you would like that feel free to leave your number at the end of this blog. I.WILL.HOOK.YOU.UP. I have so much work to do, but its so hard under the pressure of ALMOST OFF UNTIL NEXT YEAR.
I must share with you that I was under the impression I was off for two weeks. It feels like it will be two weeks, but I just counted the days and its NOT two weeks. That's ok. That's truly fine. I'm so happy that I will be able to sleep in a little bit. Of course me sleeping in is not the biggest deal. McKinley is up every day at the crack no matter what, and she HATES for anyone to be asleep when she is awake, but I am hoping that her Christmas gifts keep her occupied. I'll probably just offer her a little incentive (read: threat) to keep her quiet.
I have given myself a little end of the year resolution. Typically I don't do resolutions, not for anything grander than I can barely stick to anything, I'm certainly not going to beat myself up for it. Maybe I should not even call this a resolution..a dare..a promise...a challenge...see all those words reek of resolution. Damn. Ok. How about this, I might, just might, NO PRESSURE, not be aggravated until next year. How's that? With every contract there must be the fine print, and in this case, if/when/however I am aggravated, I will SMILE. I will flash a dazzling smile. That's all. I am a firm believer that smiles make you feel better. They do make me feel better.
I smile every time I see a reflective surface--not just a mirror. It may seem silly, but you ought to try it. For those Dear Readers who lack the GOODWILL to send me a NY&Co card, you can do me that one solid for the holidays. Smile. It's not as easy as it sounds, but once you start it gets easier.
I don't care if your smile is that creepy Disneyesque villain smile, still smile. Don't believe that when you smile, the world smiles with you-that's all hype. In fact, you DON'T EVEN know what people are smiling about, but you know what your smile is about and that's good enough.
CONFESSION TIME CONFESSION TIME CONFESSION TIME CONFESSION TIME
I'm watching Jersey Shore. Yes, I am. I know you are surprised, me too. I only started watching it because I wanted to see what was so terrible about it. I mean, don't ALL REALITY shows portray people in a prejudiced light? Hello...Baldwin Hills, Real Housewives, Who Wants to Love So and So and Be a Millionaire Matcher Maker TriSexual? Aren't they all the same? I heard that there was such a big deal about Jersey Shore, so I went to see for myself. I am a longtime reality tv follower. I'm a people watcher by heart so it makes sense for me-what's your excuse? So yes, they do a terrible disservice to Italians, but so what? The Real World started it.
Remember, they had the following characters, no matter what:
1. The Angry Black Person (my personal favorite)
2. The Alcoholic (the one who always hopped into the hot tub 1ST)
3. The Gay/Bi/Trans (depending on the season)
4. The Jock (a popular character)
5. The Homo/Black/Phobe (sometimes this was the Jock, some seasons had TWO
PHOBES, the homophobic and the blackphobic)
6. The Good One (the peacemaker)
7. The Nobody (poor casting rears its ugly head)
8. The Whore (could be any of the above or singular sensation)
Since the Real World was such a success, what makes you think that this would not grow? Why can't all the Angry Black Girls have their own show...I might be on that one. Who says all the Nobodies can't enjoy popularity for a minute? As far as the Alcoholic...Intervention is only a few clicks away. I think the only show that would get low ratings would be the The Good One Show. Good just doesn't sell. I'm sorry Good Ones. No one want to play with you, Good Ones.
Dear Readers, its noon and my 180 minute break is sadly over.
You get me. That's why I love you.
Lola
Its all about good stuff..that's what IT'S about! I'm in high spirits today and I hope you all are too. We had Secret Santa at work today and I got a gift card to my FAVORITE STORE, NY&Co. Dear Readers who want to earn gold stars, should jot that fact down.
Today I got up and decided that in light of the fact that it is less than 48hrs to my holiday break, I would really dress up to commemorate the occasion. I want to tell you what I'm wearing, however, we all (or you all allow me to believe) that my identity is a secret. I will tell you that I am wearing holiday colors and a big black satin bow in my hair and a big green ribbon around my neck.
I'm like Gossip Girl and Santa had a baby. There is so much on my mind and I am trying to keep things light and airy. This morning I had a momentary blah, but I just looked in a mirror, straightened my satin ribbon and kept on moving.
Life is good, its so good. One of my Dear Readers arrived home safely from a trip yesterday. Welcome back, I hope you received my voicemail.
Uh oh...upset in the ranks of Dear Readers!? I do sometimes pick up the phone. If I have your number, you know that. If I could I would call you ALL tomorrow at 5am to gaily announce, TODAY IS THE LAST TIME I'M WAKING BEFORE 9 UNTIL NEW YEAR!
If you would like that feel free to leave your number at the end of this blog. I.WILL.HOOK.YOU.UP. I have so much work to do, but its so hard under the pressure of ALMOST OFF UNTIL NEXT YEAR.
I must share with you that I was under the impression I was off for two weeks. It feels like it will be two weeks, but I just counted the days and its NOT two weeks. That's ok. That's truly fine. I'm so happy that I will be able to sleep in a little bit. Of course me sleeping in is not the biggest deal. McKinley is up every day at the crack no matter what, and she HATES for anyone to be asleep when she is awake, but I am hoping that her Christmas gifts keep her occupied. I'll probably just offer her a little incentive (read: threat) to keep her quiet.
I have given myself a little end of the year resolution. Typically I don't do resolutions, not for anything grander than I can barely stick to anything, I'm certainly not going to beat myself up for it. Maybe I should not even call this a resolution..a dare..a promise...a challenge...see all those words reek of resolution. Damn. Ok. How about this, I might, just might, NO PRESSURE, not be aggravated until next year. How's that? With every contract there must be the fine print, and in this case, if/when/however I am aggravated, I will SMILE. I will flash a dazzling smile. That's all. I am a firm believer that smiles make you feel better. They do make me feel better.
I smile every time I see a reflective surface--not just a mirror. It may seem silly, but you ought to try it. For those Dear Readers who lack the GOODWILL to send me a NY&Co card, you can do me that one solid for the holidays. Smile. It's not as easy as it sounds, but once you start it gets easier.
I don't care if your smile is that creepy Disneyesque villain smile, still smile. Don't believe that when you smile, the world smiles with you-that's all hype. In fact, you DON'T EVEN know what people are smiling about, but you know what your smile is about and that's good enough.
CONFESSION TIME CONFESSION TIME CONFESSION TIME CONFESSION TIME
I'm watching Jersey Shore. Yes, I am. I know you are surprised, me too. I only started watching it because I wanted to see what was so terrible about it. I mean, don't ALL REALITY shows portray people in a prejudiced light? Hello...Baldwin Hills, Real Housewives, Who Wants to Love So and So and Be a Millionaire Matcher Maker TriSexual? Aren't they all the same? I heard that there was such a big deal about Jersey Shore, so I went to see for myself. I am a longtime reality tv follower. I'm a people watcher by heart so it makes sense for me-what's your excuse? So yes, they do a terrible disservice to Italians, but so what? The Real World started it.
Remember, they had the following characters, no matter what:
1. The Angry Black Person (my personal favorite)
2. The Alcoholic (the one who always hopped into the hot tub 1ST)
3. The Gay/Bi/Trans (depending on the season)
4. The Jock (a popular character)
5. The Homo/Black/Phobe (sometimes this was the Jock, some seasons had TWO
PHOBES, the homophobic and the blackphobic)
6. The Good One (the peacemaker)
7. The Nobody (poor casting rears its ugly head)
8. The Whore (could be any of the above or singular sensation)
Since the Real World was such a success, what makes you think that this would not grow? Why can't all the Angry Black Girls have their own show...I might be on that one. Who says all the Nobodies can't enjoy popularity for a minute? As far as the Alcoholic...Intervention is only a few clicks away. I think the only show that would get low ratings would be the The Good One Show. Good just doesn't sell. I'm sorry Good Ones. No one want to play with you, Good Ones.
Dear Readers, its noon and my 180 minute break is sadly over.
You get me. That's why I love you.
Lola
Thursday, December 10, 2009
41st Tuesday
Good Day Readers!
What a week, what a month, what a life! I have so much to do yet I keeping getting distracted. I know that there is some way I can blame this on my childhood. Anyway. I will put that on my to do list. Well, I would put it on my to do list if I had such a list. My lists are never really functional and helpful. They are more like Top Ten lists. You are my Dear Reader, you know what I speak of. There are a few things I'd like to cover today, one thing that I find VERY EXCITING..like the evening news, I'm going to hold the VERY EXCITING news until the end of the blog to keep you interested.
Don't think I don't know you can just click on down to the end of the blog and skip all the rest, but we have an honor system here. Ok. S'right?
S'right makes me think of one of the greatest old commercials of all time, the Parkay commercials with the talking butter tub. That's all I'm saying about that. If you don't know Warner Wolfe, then you won't know what I'm talking about. I'm sorry that I am in my EARLY thirties and I spent a huge part of my life watching television, lol'ing away.
Lol'ing: the act of laughing out loud. I'm using my poetic justice pull as a blogger to add that to our (you + me = our) vocabulary. Feel free to use it anywhere you like. I won't take credit for it, one of my Dear Readers mentioned it on her FB. This Dear Reader is the super smart graduate that I told you about many blogs ago. Who are we to deny a super smart graduate the right to make her own words? Its not like its something ridiculous like sniglicaboque for bread. I would never co-sign on any such made up word. Sniglicaboque? Even I have my limits. I think its perfectly acceptable to add on to words, providing you are not using your new words in something important like a thesis...do you hear me super smart graduate? Don't go around making up ridiculous words and utilizing them in important reports and blaming me.
Blaming me....I'm flashbacking...when I was in 3rd grade, a little misunderstood kid in catholic school (who knew?), I had a friend named "Weisha". As in We should never call her Kiesha, because maybe she won't want to be part of my blog. One day Weisha observed me feeding the pigeons puffy cheese doodles. Don't ask me how I was so independently wealthy to throw perfectly good puffy cheese doodles at birds. I think I was just lonely. Anyway Weisha was so fascinated by this that she asked if she could feed the birds. I told her to bring money the next day and we can feed them together. Dear Readers, is this starting to sound dangerous? Not yet? mmhmmm.
The next day I was called to the office (here comes the danger). Weisha, her mother and Sr. Whatzit were sitting in the office. Weisha was crying, her mother was fuming and the nun was NOT surprised that I was apparently behind this. Care to guess what happened? Turns out Weisha was so happy about feeding time on Hoe Avenue that she decided to go into her mother's bag for the money. I don't know how many bags of puffy doodles this chick thought we were going to buy because she took $100! All of this is almost slapstick, almost like the Facts of Life until you hear the punchline. Me. I was the punchline. Weisha confessed that I TOLD her that she better bring money if she wanted to feed the pigeons.
I think that's when the blogger was born. I talked my way out of that like it was nobody's business. All I needed was a choir behind me. I had to think fast on my feet, lose my shyness and defend myself.
I don't know what happened to Weisha. I was off the hook, her mother got her $100 back and the nun went back to counting pretzel money and praying. Weisha and I never really became friends, with her being stone cold crazy and whatnot.
Anyway, I'm happy I have all of you!
Oh the good news...now I am having second thoughts...stay tuned! Ha! I don't want to lose you right before the holidays, I'm happy to think that we will be together. I can tell you that there are some changes a'brewing and I don't mean my hair!
You get me, that's why I love you.
Lola aka Puffy Cheese Doodle Pimp Mama
What a week, what a month, what a life! I have so much to do yet I keeping getting distracted. I know that there is some way I can blame this on my childhood. Anyway. I will put that on my to do list. Well, I would put it on my to do list if I had such a list. My lists are never really functional and helpful. They are more like Top Ten lists. You are my Dear Reader, you know what I speak of. There are a few things I'd like to cover today, one thing that I find VERY EXCITING..like the evening news, I'm going to hold the VERY EXCITING news until the end of the blog to keep you interested.
Don't think I don't know you can just click on down to the end of the blog and skip all the rest, but we have an honor system here. Ok. S'right?
S'right makes me think of one of the greatest old commercials of all time, the Parkay commercials with the talking butter tub. That's all I'm saying about that. If you don't know Warner Wolfe, then you won't know what I'm talking about. I'm sorry that I am in my EARLY thirties and I spent a huge part of my life watching television, lol'ing away.
Lol'ing: the act of laughing out loud. I'm using my poetic justice pull as a blogger to add that to our (you + me = our) vocabulary. Feel free to use it anywhere you like. I won't take credit for it, one of my Dear Readers mentioned it on her FB. This Dear Reader is the super smart graduate that I told you about many blogs ago. Who are we to deny a super smart graduate the right to make her own words? Its not like its something ridiculous like sniglicaboque for bread. I would never co-sign on any such made up word. Sniglicaboque? Even I have my limits. I think its perfectly acceptable to add on to words, providing you are not using your new words in something important like a thesis...do you hear me super smart graduate? Don't go around making up ridiculous words and utilizing them in important reports and blaming me.
Blaming me....I'm flashbacking...when I was in 3rd grade, a little misunderstood kid in catholic school (who knew?), I had a friend named "Weisha". As in We should never call her Kiesha, because maybe she won't want to be part of my blog. One day Weisha observed me feeding the pigeons puffy cheese doodles. Don't ask me how I was so independently wealthy to throw perfectly good puffy cheese doodles at birds. I think I was just lonely. Anyway Weisha was so fascinated by this that she asked if she could feed the birds. I told her to bring money the next day and we can feed them together. Dear Readers, is this starting to sound dangerous? Not yet? mmhmmm.
The next day I was called to the office (here comes the danger). Weisha, her mother and Sr. Whatzit were sitting in the office. Weisha was crying, her mother was fuming and the nun was NOT surprised that I was apparently behind this. Care to guess what happened? Turns out Weisha was so happy about feeding time on Hoe Avenue that she decided to go into her mother's bag for the money. I don't know how many bags of puffy doodles this chick thought we were going to buy because she took $100! All of this is almost slapstick, almost like the Facts of Life until you hear the punchline. Me. I was the punchline. Weisha confessed that I TOLD her that she better bring money if she wanted to feed the pigeons.
I think that's when the blogger was born. I talked my way out of that like it was nobody's business. All I needed was a choir behind me. I had to think fast on my feet, lose my shyness and defend myself.
I don't know what happened to Weisha. I was off the hook, her mother got her $100 back and the nun went back to counting pretzel money and praying. Weisha and I never really became friends, with her being stone cold crazy and whatnot.
Anyway, I'm happy I have all of you!
Oh the good news...now I am having second thoughts...stay tuned! Ha! I don't want to lose you right before the holidays, I'm happy to think that we will be together. I can tell you that there are some changes a'brewing and I don't mean my hair!
You get me, that's why I love you.
Lola aka Puffy Cheese Doodle Pimp Mama
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
40th Tuesday - Good Morning, Good Morning to You, Its Our Favorite Love Song......
Dear Readers,
Ewwww winter! I am not a winter person. Yes, I am a winter baby, but like most babies I certainly did not ask to be born, much less at the end of February.
I'm in a mood to talk about my mornings. I feel like you need to know every aspect of my mundane life. You are still reading, so perhaps you agree. For you smarty pants Readers, don't think I don't know that you are right about....hold on...there...rolling your eyes. I roll mine too. I always try to get to bed at a decent hour, but I am too multitask. I bet you can tell that by my steller tangents.
Every story has a beginning, so its not fair to talk mornings until we talk nights. Ooo la laaaa..no, I am not about to tell you anything about that aspect of my evenings. Sorry. I put the Patterson and McKinley to bed at 8pm. That is when my evening officially starts. Between 8 and midnight, I do all or some of the following in no specific order or fashion:
laundry
blogging
internet surf
facebook stalk
plan meals
read
watch tv
doze off
clip recipes
get on and off the scale
talk on the phone to my Lovely
obsess about snacking
procrastinate
blog about procrastinating
obsess about my need for a pedicure
To last night, you can add in unclog the toilet. Patterson clogged the toilet and then McKinley had a nosebleed. I'm not saying anything else. Feel very sorry for me.
This morning was like any other morning. I tend to get up really relaxed maybe too relaxed. Since we have to be on time most of the time, the morning is more structured. Mmhmm yeah, structured.
4:55: Open one eye and squint at the time
5am: Best alarm tone EVER, John Legend crooning good morning
5:10 on with the news and out of the bed
From 5:10-6:10 I have my hour to wash the dishes, water the plants, make coffee, shower, get dressed, tap the hamster tank, hop on the scale, check my email, make my breakfast and sometimes meals for the day, and be pissed off at my closet.
Throughout that hour, everytime I pass the kids' room I try to wake them up. I usually start off really nice, like the best alarm tone EVER, Mr. John Legend. They don't respond to that and I have to get a little hood on them. McKinley always asks for five more minutes, little does she know that I just call her five minutes earlier, so I don't feel it. McKinley always gets up first and easy. Patterson is like rousing the dead. Typically by 6:17, I'm bellowing and threatening him with all types of bodily harm.
Between 6:30-6:40, I've had it. I'm threatening everyone, including poor McKinley who does not deserve it. I have to go through the checklist: bookbags, keys, turn off the lights, keys, hats, jackets, TURN OFF THE LIGHTS...
The three of us walk about two blocks together and we go our separate ways. It does not matter how much yelling, tooth sucking or eye rolling has gone on, we always hug and kiss goodbye.
They are my kids and I love them. I may not LIKE them all the time, but I love them.
I love you too, and I don't know you well enough to dislike you. Does that make sense?
You get me, that's why I love you.
Lola
Ewwww winter! I am not a winter person. Yes, I am a winter baby, but like most babies I certainly did not ask to be born, much less at the end of February.
I'm in a mood to talk about my mornings. I feel like you need to know every aspect of my mundane life. You are still reading, so perhaps you agree. For you smarty pants Readers, don't think I don't know that you are right about....hold on...there...rolling your eyes. I roll mine too. I always try to get to bed at a decent hour, but I am too multitask. I bet you can tell that by my steller tangents.
Every story has a beginning, so its not fair to talk mornings until we talk nights. Ooo la laaaa..no, I am not about to tell you anything about that aspect of my evenings. Sorry. I put the Patterson and McKinley to bed at 8pm. That is when my evening officially starts. Between 8 and midnight, I do all or some of the following in no specific order or fashion:
laundry
blogging
internet surf
facebook stalk
plan meals
read
watch tv
doze off
clip recipes
get on and off the scale
talk on the phone to my Lovely
obsess about snacking
procrastinate
blog about procrastinating
obsess about my need for a pedicure
To last night, you can add in unclog the toilet. Patterson clogged the toilet and then McKinley had a nosebleed. I'm not saying anything else. Feel very sorry for me.
This morning was like any other morning. I tend to get up really relaxed maybe too relaxed. Since we have to be on time most of the time, the morning is more structured. Mmhmm yeah, structured.
4:55: Open one eye and squint at the time
5am: Best alarm tone EVER, John Legend crooning good morning
5:10 on with the news and out of the bed
From 5:10-6:10 I have my hour to wash the dishes, water the plants, make coffee, shower, get dressed, tap the hamster tank, hop on the scale, check my email, make my breakfast and sometimes meals for the day, and be pissed off at my closet.
Throughout that hour, everytime I pass the kids' room I try to wake them up. I usually start off really nice, like the best alarm tone EVER, Mr. John Legend. They don't respond to that and I have to get a little hood on them. McKinley always asks for five more minutes, little does she know that I just call her five minutes earlier, so I don't feel it. McKinley always gets up first and easy. Patterson is like rousing the dead. Typically by 6:17, I'm bellowing and threatening him with all types of bodily harm.
Between 6:30-6:40, I've had it. I'm threatening everyone, including poor McKinley who does not deserve it. I have to go through the checklist: bookbags, keys, turn off the lights, keys, hats, jackets, TURN OFF THE LIGHTS...
The three of us walk about two blocks together and we go our separate ways. It does not matter how much yelling, tooth sucking or eye rolling has gone on, we always hug and kiss goodbye.
They are my kids and I love them. I may not LIKE them all the time, but I love them.
I love you too, and I don't know you well enough to dislike you. Does that make sense?
You get me, that's why I love you.
Lola
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