So I Look Like Whitney Houston

That was the first thing our waiter said to me when he arrived at our table.

Whitney Houston? My initial reaction was before or after she was on crack? (Was she on crack when she did The Bodyguard?)

I can’t complain too much because 1) he was a hottie; 2) he was friendly; and 3) he was a good waiter and actually put up with us quite well. (And when I say “us”, I mean me and my inability to properly read a menu and promptly decide on what I want.)

We didn’t go to the other place (there is a God) and Chili’s ended up being our final destination for dinner.

Somehow, wherever we go, we manage to illicit openness from the wait staff. At Bahama Breeze, we had our waiter doing some spasmodic dance that looked like a standing seizure and last night we had our waiter showing us his stab wounds.

Any time all three of us go anywhere together, it’s like we have a gravitational field of comfort around us drawing people in or something. I personally think 80% of that gravitational field has to do with my sister being a hottie, but it can also be how we interact with each other.

It even extends beyond restaurants, too. At Disney World last year we somehow managed to get Mickey Mouse to hand over his gloves so I could help direct the parade. I really don’t think I could have pulled that one off had I been by myself.

It goes to show you that people really do respond well to love and silliness.

For the enquiring minds – though there was speak about “the pictures”, I quickly squashed any plots to embarrass me before they even started.

Happy Valentine’s Day

It’s the day of looooove. Go out and spread some.

Apparently, I have a dinner party back at the place to celebrate my sister’s step mom’s birthday. <sarcasm> oh…yay </sarcasm>

In other news, a very lovely bouquet of flowers arrived on my doorstep – despite my obvious lack of a boyfriend. (I’m not complaining, they smell really good.)

Thank you to whichever stranger thought kindly enough of me to send me some flowers :) .

Now, I shall leave you all with a loverly love poem to get you feeling all gooshie inside.

Love Not Me For Comely Grace
by Author Unknown

Love not me for comely grace,
For my pleasing eye nor face;
Nor for any outward part,
No, nor for a constant heart:
For these may fail or turn to ill,
So thou and I shall sever.
Keep, therefore, a true woman’s eye,
And love me still, but know not why;
So hast thou the same reason still
To doat upon me ever.

(10 second translation: love unconditionally.)

Now, one for the folks who mayhap been burned by love.

When I Was One-And-Twenty
by A. E. Housman

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
“Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free.”
But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
“The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
‘Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue.”
And I am two-and-twenty,
And oh, ’tis true, ’tis true.

I’ve Been Infected


Before I Forget…

The moment you’ve all been waiting for is here. There is a new screenshot in my sidebar (go, look now). It will lead you to a place called Haunted House Dressing and it is totally psychotic. Okay, well, not really, but close.

The comics are a trip, you may find yourself oddly addicted to them.

Oh, The Humanity

I just put up another Rent My Blog campaign, and already have 3 bids.

And not just any 3 bids – bids from 3 very excellent blogs (one of which is already linked in my blogroll).

But I had to make a choice. I now have 2 new blogs in my reader, and a brand new screen shot in my sidebar. Go ahead, have a look, I know you want to.

(I bet you’re asking – what tipped the scales in favor of Jaded Sunburns? Well, I’m really hoping she’ll bake some cookies and send them my way :D )

Surviving Christmas

I’ve been so busy Getting Stuff Done™ that I haven’t had an opportunity to write about my Christmas experience. To sum it up, I survived.

My dad showed up and the energy changed – as was expected. But we quickly got past that.

I planned to serenade my sister because she always, without fail, asks me “how come you don’t play the flute anymore?

My father saw the flute laying on the counter and looked at me funny when he said, “you still play this? I remember when I got you this flute…” and I had to kindly cut him off to let him know I bought the flute he was holding while I was in college.

I started to panic when he opened the case and started showing it around, in awe of its golden keys, but all I could imagine was a head joint (or other very important piece) of my very cherished, very expensive flute meeting with the very hard floor.

When he placed it safely back on the counter, I don’t think I’ve ever felt such relief before in my life.

When I told him I still had the flute he bought for me in 7th grade, he didn’t say it, but I could tell he was happy to hear it. It was all over his face. Then he complained a bit as he recollected having to drive me a few miles to a concert in the 8th grade because I had a solo.

(It always bothered me that he could not see my accomplishments – hundreds of flautists auditioned, but I was the one selected – he just saw it as an inconvenience in his schedule. That’s probably why I stopped trying.)

I had just started playing Silent Night when Cameron called from the other room “hey, what are you guys watching in there, that sounds beautiful?” He actually thought it was a show on t.v.

The rest of the folks that were subjected to my playing started singing along and swaying to the beat. That made me happy. When people enjoyed my music was when I was most happy.

We then ate dinner, spread out in so many rooms. The children upstairs playing video games. Other people in the garage, some in the kitchen, some in the living room. A familiar scene – and a comforting one.

I made bread! And people liked it! Seriously. I’m not just saying that either.

I was so worried no one eat it or like it, but they did. It was a buttermilk white bread and at the end of the evening people were placing orders, I felt so special.

My sister wraps present in plastic bag with bow I snapped a quick pic of my absolute favorite Christmas present wrapping job of all time. You have no idea just how much I love my sister ROFL.

It was fun. I got to watch grown people act a fool, I got to laugh and forget about any problems and just bask in love (yes, I know that’s so cheesy).

At the end of the day, watching the videos, it made me smile. I am a very lucky person to have such a great family. Broken and misguided as we are, we’re still family.

Dude, Here’s Your Prozac…

Look, there’s another little screen shot in my sidebar – isn’t it cute? If you click on it, it will take you to a place called “Dude Where’s My Prozac?” – you know you want to go, but dude, don’t forget to come back ;) .

(again, if you don’t like bad words, consider yourself warned.)

Happy Merry Chrismakwanzakah (Redux)

I want to wish you the best possible holiday season. I want you and your family to be happy, healthy, and safe. And may your lives all be prosperous in the new year and beyond.

Last year, I left you with a Chrismakwanzakah poem (well, really just a Christmas poem), so I’ll continue the tradition. finish reading »

Welcome to my side panel

Well, I’m being slow again, sorry.

If you glance over to the sidebar — yea, right over there — you’ll notice that it’s being occupied by a tiny screenshot of a blog called The Rock Bitch. It’s actually a pretty cool site, so why not take a minute to visit? It can be your present to yourself :)

One more thing before I forget – if you don’t like, use, or want to be near profanity of any sort – you may want to hold off on clicking that link up there (for that matter, you may not want to read some of the entries in my archive).

spreading some joy

This. Is. Awesome! Wait for it to load and enjoy – it’s sure to put you in the holiday spirit :D