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Showing posts from March, 2012

Trifle with Fortunes

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On M’s birthday In November, I got a recipe from the lovely yogini, and then gathered with another lovely yogini, whom I sometimes call Cake Boss, and we made what is quite possibly the yummiest cake ever. It weighed 11 pounds, and each of those pounds contained chocolate, sugar, cream, and other richness worthy of a 21st birthday.

So when a fund raising dessert event came along recently, I thought I should make that very cake.   I didn’t have Cake Boss to help, and probably due to this, the cake, all three layers of it, got stuck to all three pans.  With the first layer, I thought, meh, it doesn’t really matter -- I can fill in the gaps with frosting.  So I frosted it with rich chocolate creamy buttery goo and used raspberries to fill in the deeper canyons.  
When I got to the second layer, also stuck to the pan, I again solved it with frosting and berries.  By the third layer, this was just the way I did business.  I was accustomed to solving problems in this manner. In fact, I was …

Boobs and broccoli

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Yesterday, I listened to rantings from protesters outside of the Supreme Court building on the radio, and they sounded crazy.  “If we let Obama make us buy health insurance, where’s it going to end?  Next thing you know, he’ll make everyone buy a Chevy Volt.”  
 “Heh, crazy talk from the whacko fringe,” I thought. 
Today, I heard a similar thing on NPR, but sadly, it was Antonin Scalia making the argument. (Substitute broccoli for Chevy Volt, and it’s the same frothing, three-cornered hat, 'don't tread on me' stuff.)  Yes, that Scalia, the one who sits on the highest court in the land.  Not that I’ve ever been a fan of his, but still…  (I just spent a while on the internet trying to learn the name of that gesture that he used on the press, the one with curled fingers under the chin that suddenly become unfurled.  Since the gesture had no name, I decided not to write about it, but that’s the classy justice we’re dealing with.)  
I like it better when the lawyers dress the …

In which Joey drives a car

A few weird things that have happened this week:

I saw Joeydriving while I was walking.  He seemed excited about the change-up, and waved gladly at me.  I, on the other hand wasn't as thrilled.  I got a whiff of how it might go down after my job ends.  I envisioned myself hitchhiking to town for a drink or 17 first thing in the morning, and Joey giving me a ride.  That, and Joey driving at all is a scary thought.

Speaking of drinking in the morning, here's the second thing:  I took R. out to breakfast at the Buzz Inn, where we seemed to be the only people drinking coffee.  Everyone else had beer or other tawny liquids adorned with swizzle sticks.  At about 9 am on a weekday.  R. and I watched Nascar on t.v., because it was there.   I guess  any behavior can seem normal if you surround yourself with people doing that same thing.  I'm alternately alarmed and comforted by this.

With any luck, I'll complete a cake and a story today, and maybe share that.

Spring-o-scopes

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Aries (3/21 – 4/19):  Okay, every time I see a picture of Anne Romney, I think yeesh, she looks like the mean back-stabber on an overly-dramatic soap opera.  Then I saw this picture of her in 1964, and all I can say, Aries, is what happened?  I wish I had the stomach to really study photos of her over time and overlay them on a timeline of her life, because yikes.  there must have been a particular food consumed or something.  Luckily, Aries, you remain young and lovely, so don't worry your pretty head about the fact that this isn't a real horoscope.  Just don't let a genuine smile turn into something horrible.


Taurus (4/20 – 5/20): In the freaky news department, Nokia has patented a tattoo that acts as a receiver for text messages.  Okay, not that I'm cheap, but how many different cell phones have you had in the past few years?  Wait, I know, you're thinking, huh?  Nokia wants to turn me into a cyborg, and she's worried about replacing the tattoo?  Anyway, Taur…

Does this 4G device look okay with my chicken costume?

Okay, it doesn't look like the bottle cap thing is going to work out, so I'm considering being a wireless hotspot.  I believe I have the requisite skill set.  If possible, I could combine that with wearing the chicken suit and dancing in front of a KFC, although I guess KFC isn't really the hot spot demographic.

Still thinking. . .

The first response

Hey Betsy,

Thanks for your feedback about our sayings and pictures on our bottle caps.  We currently have 40+ different caps out there – and are looking into some new sayings, so we’ll be sure to take yours into consideration.  As for the trash can, I’ve never thought of that until now, and it’s a pretty funny take on the Washington silhouette.  Keep ejoying the ESB!

Cheers, 

Marketing Communications Manager 


I guess I need to keep looking. . .

First job effort

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Dear Redhook,
I’ve been meaning to contact you about your bottle cap messages.  Thanks for doing that.  I know, the word, “but” doesn’t belong in a thank you or an apology, so without diminishing that genuine appreciation, could you make them a little more interesting?  
If you open an Inversion IPA, it says, “Bravely done.”  Now that’s a good message! The first time I got it, I was all, “Wow, I know!  That was brave, wasn’t it?” But then, I became disillusioned, getting the same message every single time. The bottle cap seemed to think that everyone else in the room was brave too.  It started to feel like the cap didn’t think I was special.  Redhook, it seemed disingenuous.  And no one wants to be sucked up to by a freakin’ bottle cap.
You guys, on the other hand, offer variety in your bottle cap messages, which is good.  But as a reader, and I say that because I’m a person who read other things besides your bottle caps – like tea bags, speed limit signs, and the New York Times, for exa…

Texts From R.

R:  How would you feel about me getting a different car?Me:  I can't contribute money to that, if that's what you're asking.R:  No, that's not a problem.  I'm just thinking of getting rid of the Hyundai for something with a bit more pizazz.Me:  Oh R.  Don't be that guy.R:  The guy who goes after what he wants? Me: The guy who wants shallow material stuff.R:  It's not about looks, I just want something that might have a chance at passing another car.Me:  What's wrong with being the back-line leader?R:  It was fun for the first two years, but I feel like I have front of the line potential.Me:  There's always a car ahead of you. R:  And I intend to catch up with it.

Who's got the bacon?

Besides the recycling bins, the other thing on my mind is Other Ways to Make Money.
Alas, I still need to bring home actual bacon for R., who would eat that stuff every day if he could.  
I started with the “do what you love and the money will follow” theory, so I made a list of what I love:
Chocolate cake.  Especially if it has many layers and one of them contains raspberry sauce.  Its hard to see where the money is here, but I guess I could start eating it more often and just see what happens.
Stories.  I love stories as much as I love my opposable thumb, particularly if they’re true, and even more so if I’m lying in bed and someone is telling the story to me, which is why I’m so grateful for all the excellent podcasts these days.  Again, it’s a little hard to see who would pay me for that though.    I think if there was money to be made here, I'd already be rich.  But if you see this ad, please contact me: WANTED:  SOMEONE WHO WILL LAY AROUND AND LISTEN TO INTERESTING STORIES.  MUST…

The bins

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Work is strange these days because we’re playing that musical chairs game where managements says, “the music is going, sing along everyone, but just to let you know, at some point, it will stop and we’re going to remove somewhere between 5 and 22 chairs.  Enjoy!  It could be today, or it could be another day, but soon.  Anyway, get back to work everyone!”
That really brings the best out in everyone, as you might imagine.  People spend a lot of time eying the remaining chairs and making a subtle case for how their butt is deserving of at least one of them.
We know this game so well, because we’ve been downsizing for years – from 400 people a few years ago, to 100 now, and each time, we go through the same exercise, which involves endless speculation and scenario-building. Due to the union contract, layoffs are entirely based on seniority, but there are complicated rules, like Calvin Ball, so it’s never clear-cut.  Everyone has gone through this scenario so many times that sadly, we prett…

Guidelines for Breaking Up

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As I mentioned, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to teens, relationships, and breakups, and I’ve decided to pen some instructions here.  (Do you like how I used “pen” as a verb?).  I’ve been on both ends of the break up so many times, and consider myself a rather sorry expert on the matter.  
So here goes, guidelines for decency.
For the Dumper:
Be sure you mean it before you break up.  There’s nothing more cruel than using your partner as a yo-yo.  If you think there’s any chance of continuing the relationship, don’t do it!  It’s hurtful and unkind.  Once in a while, after a break up, you learn more about yourself or your partner, and are honestly compelled to try again based on new information.  That’s cool, but don’t use breaking up or the threat of it as a tool, and don’t be cavalier about ending a relationship.  That’s just wrong.  
If you aren’t sure whether your discontent is break-up worthy or not, consider these questions:
Have you tried to communicate about the issues that bothe…