That's Right...

I quit. But don't worry about me. I'm across the river getting ready to have hotel sex. Not motel sex; hotel sex. It's more expensive.

Uh Oh

Ha, no one even noticed that I didn't really post on Friday and Saturday. My awesome job saw to it that I worked 6 days this week and I just totally forgot. When I remembered I thought my Uh Oh post would be my quitting the challenge, but I didn't want to hear Rae whine. So I hurried up and wrote S and T and back-posted them (I love that feature in blogger) and now I am all caught up. Is it me or is this challenge not nearly as much fun as last year? I think it is just so big that there is no way to get around to all the other blogs, and in turn they are not getting around to my blog. And I don't want to be a writer when I grow up (because factory work is so much more fulfilling) and I have no idea what a query is and I am completely confused about what 99% of the other bloggers are talking about. I want to drink and write silly things and be sorry about it the next day. Count me out next year.

Turducken

 

Have you ever had this? It's amazing!

Ingredients

1 3 lb whole chicken, boned
salt and pepper to taste
Creole seasoning to taste
1 4 lb duck, boned
1 16 lb turkey, boned
3 cups prepared sausage and oyster dressing

 

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C). Lay the boned chicken skin-side down on a platter and season liberally with salt, pepper and Creole seasoning. Lay the boned duck skin-side down on top of the chicken and season liberally with salt, pepper and Creole seasoning. Cover and refrigerate.
2. Lay the boned turkey skin-side down on a flat surface. Cover with a layer of cold Sausage and Oyster Dressing and push the dressing into the leg and wing cavities so they will look as if they still have bones in them.
3. Lay the duck on top of the turkey skin-side down and cover it with a layer of cold dressing. Lay the chicken on top of the duck skin-side down and cover it with a layer of cold dressing.
4. With the help of an assistant, bring the edges of the turkey skin up and fasten them together with toothpicks. Use the kitchen string to lace around the toothpicks to help hold the stuffed turkey together. Carefully place the turducken, breast up in a large roasting pan.
5. Roast covered for 4 hours or until the turducken is golden brown. Continue to roast uncovered for 1 hour or until a meat thermometer inserted through the thigh registers 180 degrees F. and a thermometer inserted through the stuffing registers 165 degrees F. Check the turducken every few hours to baste and remove excess liquid. There will be enough pan juices for a gallon of gravy. Carve and serve.

Shampoo and Sh!t

For a not very pretty woman, I have a lot of hair stuff.

I have 22 kinds of shampoos and conditioners. And most of it is not the cheap stuff, though I have my fair share of that, too.

And then there are the sprays and gels and oils and serums (17). I personally paid for Paul Mitchell's vacation home in the south of France last year.

I seriously considered calling off from work last Wednesday because we didn't have any power. Our water heater is gas so I took my shower by lantern light and was in the process of packing up a small percentage of my stash, including my ion hair dryer with diffuser, so I could get ready in the shower room at work when power was restored. So I loaded my hair up with product and hurried to the living room to watch an episode of Scrubs before I dried my hair and got dressed. It takes 22 minutes if you fast forward through the commercials.

Responsible Drinking

I really miss those days when it wasn't the biggest sin in the world to drive around in your car drinking beer. On Fridays, after work,my friend Mary and I would go to the blind school and spring her sister, Miss Dorothy. She'd climb into the backseat with her portable casio keyboard and we would head to the Pilot or Aztec and each get a 6 pack. Then we would drive around in the country and drink our beers and sing old motown songs. Eventually we would have to find a place to pee. I bet I have peed in almost every church parking lot in Rutherford County, Tennessee. Then we would go home to our stupid (now ex) husbands and resume our dreary lives. But for that hour or so every Friday night we were blissfully happy, and I miss those girls so much.

Qu'est Que Se

J'ai pris le français mon année d'étudiant de première année dans le collège. Je voulais toujours apprendre. J'ai cru que c'était une belle langue. Au milieu du terme j'avais un A. Je ne suis jamais retourné à la classe. Andouille.

(Run it through the translator here. I thought andouille was a cajun sausage. Evidently it is french for schmuck.)
(And I did NOT want to teach...I wanted to learn.)(Translators are not that great at translating.)

Promenade and Do-Si-Do

Okay, first the bad news...a young riesling lost it's life in my kitchen tonight. I was about 18 inches from the table and the dang bag broke and wine went every. where. Everywhere. Criminy what a mess. And sticky. And sad and heartbreaking cuz it was 1.5 liters and I was gonna drink that badboy. A moment of silence, please.

And now? Prom!

Yes, he is a special boy who hates having his picture taken. Has nothing to do with his alcohol-addled mother who turns the camera off instead of taking the picture.

I swear to god, he makes that face every time I try to take his picture! Stoopid digital cameras have that delay and I push the button and he looks normal, and then he makes that face & the camera snaps.

See, that boy doesn't have a job anymore and that friggin' tux cost $120 to rent (thank god he already had those awesome shoes) and the flowers were $30, and tickets were $65, and oh my god, I'm not buying you dinner, too, am I? No, I threw 2 sheets over the card table and went to big lots and got a table cloth, placemats, and napkins (because I don't own any of those things) and slapped some LED tea candles in a jar of glass discs and VOILA! Dinner at Chez Christy.

He is sticking his tongue out because I am taking his picture. He took off all his clothes and Alexx is in one of my lab coats from work. Oh, when he came back from picking her up and saw the transformed front room, aka Chez Christy, he said, "Lame, Mom." Knife through the heart. I slaved over fettuccine alfredo and rhubarb cheesecake after getting up at 1:50 in the morning to go to work early so I could leave early to go to big lots to buy all that crap and be lame. Awesome.

And yet I still let him drive my car. Crazy, I know.

But I think he had a good time.

Old Friend

My high school bff Leslie's daughter broke her arm & Leslie took this video of her in the ER. Erica said she wanted it posted to youtube so her friends could see how goofy she was acting. It is hilarious!

New Friend

So, I got to meet the super-awesome Rae today, and she was even cuter than her etsy profile picture! She plied me with chocolate for my birthday, and I shared my birthday cake with her. (By the way, Rae, that wine was disgusting!)

We found out we had some things in common, mostly about our husbands. First, neither one is terribly enthused about our blogging. Secondly, they are both totally out of touch with how much a week's worth of groceries cost. And lastly, they are both union workers; hers is a pipefitter and mine is a heavy equipment operator. That makes this relationship much more palatable to my husband, even though she drives a Ford. At least it was a truck.

Hopefully we will be able to get together more...I really want her to come over and play dancing games on the wii and kinect. And sing karaoke! I am awesome at karaoke. I usually feel pretty good about my writing, too, but that last paragraph reminds me of a grade-school essay! And that last sentence is a dangling participle, or one of those things that you're not supposed to do. Argh, my head hurts.

Time for (better) wine...Chocovine is gross!

My My My *updated*

Yeah, I know. My title's are awesome.

My cake:

It's not so pretty. In fact, it's cracked. But it tasted good. And yes, that is box o'riesling precariously close to the edge of the table.

My trash:

We only used 2 sticks of butter, and I think it was all in the cake. Wait, no, one was melted to go on the tortillas for the beef chimichangas. Yes, there was a menu change. Beef Bourguignon is just beef stew. Wasn't feeling it. There was a pint of sour cream and a brick of cream cheese in the bread bowl dip, however. And I woke up and remembered the shrimp, out on the counter all night. Oops.

My new shoes:

They hurt. But they're cute. I need someone to buckle them for me. It wasn't pretty in the Target parking lot.

Since it is still my birthday week, I will make a rhubarb cheesecake and then play dance dance revolution on the wii. I treat myself well on my birthday (week).

**How could I forget to tell you?  Slutty was in charge all day, and finally got naked @ 10pm!**

Larry and Fred

Larry is in blue; Fred, as always, is in pink.

So, the birthday begins. In case you didn't know, I am deep in the throes of menopause and it causes some disruptions around my house. You never know which Christy is going to show up from day to day. I had a pretty strong feeling that Bitchy Christy was going to pop out to celebrate my birthday, but I think Weepy Christy managed to subdue her and lock her in the closet. So now I just have to wait and see if Weepy Christy wants some cake...I don't think she does. "I Beat Anorexia" Christy is probably going to eat it all.

It is 8:15! I should still be in bed. Instead I am showered and have my contacts in. That must mean that I am going to wear make-up today. That's Slutty Christy...she's, well, slutty. But she's a lot of fun. No one told her that family is coming over around 7 tonight; that's when the sluttiness usually happens here. She's gonna probably untie Bitchy Christy when she finds out.

So, I'm off to the big city grocery store, I guess. Yes, I travel an hour to go to this huge grocery store that has sushi and cooked shrimp, all kinds of hummus, cheese from all over the world, and a liquor store. And it is in a shopping center with a Target. So, Bonus! Then I will begin preparing the feast.

And waiting for Weepy, Bitchy, and Slutty to blow out the candles.

Kinky Toes

Look, I am really running out of things to tell you people. I went to Chili's with the girls today, then to the spa for a pedi.

Then, I picked some rhubarb so I can make my own birthday cake/treatish thingy. And I think I will go to the butcher in the morning and make myself beef bourguinon. Why yes, I did watch Julie & Julia this morning. Then Friday perhaps I will finally meet Rae. That will cap off my birthday week!

Remember: wine, chocolate, cheese, flamingos and Tennessee. I'll be waiting patiently.

Justin Bieber...Only Better

I I I

I just continue to entertain and amaze. First, I didn't write about my super-awesome car on C day. And today I will not write about my super-awesome iPad. Look, I missed the r in the link up there and I'm too lazy to fix it.

No, today it really is all about I I I! Because it's my birthday week!!  Yay!!

Yes, I am an only child; why do you ask? 

FOCUS, PEOPLE!

Okay, I like wine, and chocolate, and cheese, and flamingos, and haikus. And anything UT related. No, not Utah, University of Tennessee. (Oof, that's my first-ever blog post; wow.)

I will be waiting for all the presents and what-not on Thursday...aka the day the Titanic sunk and Lincoln was shot (I believe; something happened to him on April 14).

Here I Come To Save The Day!

I had to run over to Tossing it Out to make sure we weren't all posting about housekeeping today, like we did last year.

Don't you feel better about your own home now? That's mostly my recycling all over Buckethead's futon. Oh, and my crutches. And a Nashville Predators jersey, size small. No one in this house is a small anything. (Tell my husband I said that, would ya?). A shoe box that looks like a cigar box. Little teeny tiny chocolate bottles filled with liquor (how are those still here?). One lonely bottle of canola oil in a box--we buy in bulk.

How about my kitchen table?

Well, that's much better. Two packages of tortillas. Two books (Water for Elephants and I Love it When You Talk Retro). Um, a box of bandaids. Hot dog buns. Saltines. Oooh, chocolates. A can of tomatoes, petite diced. Lots of newspapers. And cups. And reusable grocery bags. Hey! Cupcakes! Horseradish Cheddar potato chips. What is that by the tomatoes? BUGLES! I love Bugles!!


So, there. I win. I better go clean those Bugles the table off.

Get Over It

That's right, it's beer thirty and I don't want to write a post, so here's a recipe:

Grape Salad

serves 15

2 lbs green seedless grapes
2 lbs red seedless grapes
8 oz sour cream
8 oz cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 tsp. vanilla extract


Topping:
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup crushed pecans, to taste


Wash and stem grapes. Set aside. Mix sour cream, cream cheese, white sugar
and vanilla by hand until blended. Stir grapes into mixture and pour into large bowl.


For topping: Combine brown sugar and crushed pecans. Sprinkle over
top of grapes to cover completely.

Chill overnight.


Okay, if you are new here, just know that all the recipes I post contain either sour cream, cream cheese, or lots of butter. Usually it's a trifecta of artery-clogging goodness. You're welcome.

Fan Girlzzzzzzz

Can you tell that all you can drink Budweiser (it is St. Louis, after all) was included in our ticket price? And Lisa, the pretty one with no glasses, was our DD. Those are my sunglasses on the left. Beth is the pretty one in the center who is even worse than me at taking pictures.

Here's some I took:

There's Albert Douche-holes. He had a terrible day yesterday, unlike me. Did I also mention the all you can eat food? Those tickets were only $50 and I drank $75 in beer and ate at least $20 in food. Better make that $25; I forgot about that cookie I got to go with my last beer.

There's Fredbird attacking someone. He does that a lot.


It was an awesome day. I am not an outside person. At all. But it was in the shade, and the beer and food was inside. I sat outside most of the time and made fun of all the people in the cheap seats. I could definitely be persuaded to do that again.

EARTHQUAKE!

Well, my new web snapshot toolbar thingy does work, but this seems to be as big as I can get it (that's what he said).

So what the hell is this, you ask? This is my OCD, let me show it to you.

A couple of years ago we had an earthquake in Southern Illinois. It was awesome! It was like 5 in the morning and it woke everybody in the house. We live right next to a train crossing so we all are able to sleep through a certain amount of racket. But every single one of us knew that this was not a normal train sound. It was similar, but bigger. (That's what he said). And longer. (That's what he said). We all got up and turned on the news and sure enough, about 10 minutes later that was all Beth and Mike and John Champion (isn't that the coolest weatherman name ever?) were talking about. (And I miss Beth Bradley; I googled her and some message board said she was sleeping with the sports guy that left to go to Indy and she went with him).

We had an aftershock about 10 in the morning and as soon as I realized it, I got up and tried to run outside but it didn't last long enough. I was so disappointed. And thus my obsession with earthquakes began.

I spent way too much time that day on the USGS website. I signed up for email alerts of earthquakes in this area and my inbox has been flooded (that's what she said?) with emails every week. Earlier this year I noticed a lot of activity going on in the NE corner of Arkansas, so on March 1 I started saving every email I got about that area. Since March 1 I have had 195 emails about earthquakes there. Isn't that awesome? They are so lucky. I did some research on it and this phenomenon is called an earthquake swarm and is not at all uncommon, especially in this area. But they think that natural gas drilling in the area is impacting the swarm. They are trying to determine how exactly. It has something to do with frakking (doesn't it always?).

A Dozen or so Douches

I have this friend (no, really) at work named Woody. Since I am in that hell-hole 50 or 60 hours a week, sometimes we spend time making up new words. Although scholars will tell you that fuck is the must versatile word in the English language, Woody and I are beginning to think that douche is making headway in that department.

Here's some of what we have come up with:

Nouche:  Nerd douche

Gouche:  Geek douche

Envirodouche:  Special name for our Environmental Manager at the plant

Houche:  Hippy douche (I lobbied for hipouche, but he thought it was too much like hippo)

Oldouche and Youche:  You know, old and young douche

I know, we're fucking brilliant.

Oh, race car driver Kyle Busch is forever now known as Kyle Douche. If you know who he is, then you understand. If you don't, take my word for it.

Um, that's only seven. Let's see. There were more, but I drink heavily.

Hey, I'm going to the Cardinals game tomorrow to see Albert Douche-holes. Heh. Eight.

Oh, who's that douche that cries all the time? John Douchener. You know, speaker of the house John Douchener. Cries all the time. Whatever. Nine.

Okay, I said a dozen or so.

Or so.

A Confession...With Pictures!

So, here goes:  Copious amounts of cheap red wine (in a bottle or box) makes your poo green.

Time for pictures!

Okay, first, you didn't really think I was going to show a picture of green poo, did you? Come on, people, even I have my limits. No, that is my fridge and the dribbles of wine that collect on the floor of said fridge from the ever-present box o'wine. And yes, that crisper drawer is actually the side of an amazon box held in place with duct tape. (Insert overused Charlie Sheen-ism here)!

B Haiku

My friend Rae wrote a lovely poem for A yesterday. Here's my attempt:

Look at the birdshit
and all the butterfly guts.
Time for a carwash!

Captures my feelings of the impending warm weather rather succinctly. Here's another:

My boobs are sticking
and my thighs are getting chafed.
Crank up the a/c!

Huh. I think I've got a real knack for this.

Where's the Skin-So-Soft?
I'm not going out in this.
West Nile Virus, y'all.

I could go on and on. And on and on and on.

Alphabetically Speaking

I am soooo sorry, bloggy friends, for getting such a late start today. I was awoken this morning by a text message from my husband (at 9:30) thanking me for putting his lunch in the freezer last night. Said that was a nice touch. Hey, here's another A word for you, Asshole. Why didn't you thaw it out in the microwave before you left for work?

I have known about this challenge for well over a month, and I actually planned on having the whole month done and ready to post, but, you know, I'm me. After I got done crying over frozen soup this morning I laid in bed trying to think of something really good to write about. Obviously I didn't come up with anything. For a while I had thought I was going to write about the crush I had on Ashley Wilkes when I was a little girl, but I figure most people these days don't even know who that is. And it is kind of embarrassing, and I would never want to write about something embarrassing! Oh, and I did finally come to realize what a spineless twit Ashley was...I first saw the movie when I was about 5. By the time I was a teenager I was firmly in the Rhett Butler camp.

I am really nervous about what I am going to find to write about this year. I mean, honestly, how can I top J from last year? But then, I was having a meltdown by the letter U (and you notice how I don't link to that post!). I have a feeling that it may happen a little earlier this year. Before the darn thing had even started people were dropping by and giving me awards...I can't handle the pressure, y'all!

Ok, enough already. I am going to stop and go play a little Dance Central on the kinect (I have upgraded from the wii--by which I mean it is my son's and I asked him to move it to the living room so I could play it) and then I will come back and write B thru H so I won't have to worry about it next week. Hahahaha. Right.