Saturday, May 30, 2009
Black Bean Croquettes with fresh salsa
2 15-ounce cans black beans, rinsed
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 cup frozen corn kernels, thawed
1/4 cup plus 1/3 cup plain dry breadcrumbs, divided
2 cups finely chopped tomatoes
2 scallions, sliced
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1 teaspoon chili powder, hot if desired, divided
1/4 teaspoon salt1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 avocado, diced
Preheat oven to 425°F. Coat a baking sheet with cooking spray.
Mash black beans and cumin with a fork in a large bowl until no whole beans remain. Stir in corn and 1/4 cup breadcrumbs.
Combine tomatoes, scallions, cilantro, 1/2 teaspoon chili powder and salt in a medium bowl. Stir 1 cup of the tomato mixture into the black bean mixture.
Mix the remaining 1/3 cup breadcrumbs, oil and the remaining 1/2 teaspoon chili powder in a small bowl until the breadcrumbs are coated with oil.
Divide the bean mixture into 8 scant 1/2-cup balls. Lightly press each bean ball into the breadcrumb mixture, turning to coat. Place on the prepared baking sheet.
Bake the croquettes until heated through and the breadcrumbs are golden brown, about 20 minutes. Stir avocado into the remaining tomato mixture. Serve the salsa with the croquettes.
Friday, May 29, 2009
But if I was going to make an exciting change, well that would be a tough task to identify. I mean, you already have the barbaric and fear-inducing names. You have the ruthless (and completely authentic) wrestling holds, attacks, and legal moves. You have the Vegas showgirls carrying large signs indicating which round it is, in the event you are completely incapable of counting any of your primary numbers on your own accord. You also have the radio-station-ready announcer.
I just couldn't pin it down. And then it hit me. You would only need to add some freaky (and freaking ridiculous) costumes and you have the total experience.
The flying fowl? Oh, that is Lucha Vavoom star Lil Chicken as he delivers a flying kick to one of Los Cavaleras' "luchadores," (Mexican wrestlers) during a performance at the Mayan Theater in LA for Cinco de Mayo.
I imagine the only thing hotter than a grown man in bright yellow feathers, bright yellow undies, and a chicken mask would be if that man was your man.
Lucha Vavoom is Mexican wrestling and vintage burlesque inspired from the cine luchadore from Mexican cinema in the 1960s. So you better believe I am on the lookout while we are in the patria. But don't worry, I won't be bringing one of those home with me.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
In his single days, JohnnyMac loved himself some frequent trips to Cabo (and Jamaica, St. Thomas, Florida, etc.) JohnnyMac has gotten shanked out of three trip to Cabo in the last four years. Let me explain. He was scheduled to come the year we met and had to cancel last minute because of work (CURSES). The next year, he surprised me with a trip planned over Thanksgiving. And then we got suprised by a tiny thing called procreation, and although I wasn't due until the following February, our baby Doc declared moratorium on traveling out of the country.
So the next year, we planned a trip to take our little man who was born in January, but would not doubt be ready to rock the sandbar at 1o months old. Well, when flight time came near, our little man was sick. We would obviously cancel the trip and tell Hi Pie and the RevDoc who were meeting us there to go on without us. In a moment in incredibly loving love, JohnnyMac said, "You should go meet them. I will stay home with the baby."
Leave my husband home with a 10 month old ? For six days? ABSOLUTELY! I couldn't have packed quicker if I had inhaled eight RedBulls back to back. I kissed him intently and rolled right on down the street to that big old Jet Airliner.
So, while JohnnyMac stayed home, I sunned, went boating, and refreshed myself with Pacificos on the beachwith my little brother. Ahhhh...thats a fair exchange for nine months of hotel hosting a baby, yes?
So this year, we are all set to go. Nothing is stopping us. Tickets in hand...until...what? Can you repeat that? Swine flu? Where did you say? In Mexico? You must be kidding me. Thankfully the potential pandemic has dwindled down but JohnnyMac did declare that if this trip was cancelled, he was officially breaking up with Cabo.
But we are here, and that is a breakup I don't want to witness. You already know how much we love the beach. It serves as instant redemption for JohnnyMac after work, and the sometimes taxing upkeep of patience required with a two year old.
This pic is from our little man's first trip to the beach, and I love it. Because our many subsequent trips, our son seems to have a proclivity towards the beach as well. And his interest is so genuine and earnest. And this in turn is appreciated by us. What did he say this morning? I LOVE CABO MOMMY.
Uncle Hi Pie and the RevDoc are with us and we heard all about how my little brother won a sand castle building contest on one of his work retreats. (Sandcastle building on a work retreat? Sign me up.) And you know the Sand Castle champ rolled out a toolkit like Tim Allen and is set to make his godson the best sandcastle on the beach.
So Viva la Cabo....we missed you and are so glad to be back on your sandy shores.
Monday, May 25, 2009
JENNY MAC'S SANGRIA CHA CHA CHA
1 orange cut into slices
1 c sugar
1 bottle white wine ( I recommend pinot grigio, sav blanc, or viognier)
1 bottle red wine (pinot noirs, sangiovese, or young merlots)
Sliced peaches, apples, strawberries, raspberries
Grand Marnier to taste
Combine the orange, lemon, sugar, and wines in a large glass bowl and stir. Cover in fridge for 4 - 8 hours. Add the fruit and spirits and let soak for at least 30 minutes. Serve over ice.
Kim Wray Perdue's Famous White Sangria
1 bottle dry red or white wine
1.5 cups of Spanish brandy (do not use regular brandy. Or do and it won't be as good.)
Juice from 4 oranges
Juice from 4 lemons
Juice from 4 limes
2 T. cinnamon
1 c. sugar
Combine in a 1 gallon beverage container and shake it, shake it, shake it. Add more sugar if you like, and warn people...this one packs a punch.
1 (750-ml) bottle Prosecco or French Champagne, chilled
1/2 cup orange juice
2 cups Mint Simple Syrup, recipe follows
1 lemon, zested and thinly sliced
1 lime, zested and thinly sliced
1/2 cup sliced strawberries
5 fresh mint sprigs
In a large pitcher, combine the Prosecco, orange juice, Mint Simple Syrup, lemon zest, and lime zest. Add the sliced strawberries, lemon slices, lime slices, and mint sprigs.
Fill glasses with crushed ice and pour the sangria over the top. Serve immediately.
Mint Simple Syrup:
2 cups sugar
2 cups water
1 cup packed fresh mint leaves
In a small saucepan, combine the sugar, water, and mint over medium heat. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sugar has dissolved. Remove the pan from the heat and allow the syrup to cool for 20 minutes. Strain before using
RED WINE SANGRIA
1 orange, sliced
1 lime, sliced
1 apple, cored and sliced
1 bottle red wine
3 cups white rum
1/2 cup orange flavored liqueur, recommended: Cointreau
1 cup orange juice
1/2 cup pomegranate juice
3 tablespoons sugar
1 quart club soda, to taste
To a pitcher add orange, lime, apple and cover with red wine, rum, orange liqueur, orange juice, pomegranate juice and stir in sugar. Chill in the refrigerator. When ready to serve top off with club soda, to taste.
3 cups ice cubes
1/4 cup lemon slices
1/4 cup lime slices
1/4 cup orange, slices
1/4 cup pineapple chunks
1/4 cup seedless grapes
2 cups red wine
1/2 cup peach brandy
1 cup orange juice
1 cup lemon/lime soda
In a pitcher, add all the ingredients and stir to combine. Ideally, you want to wait about 1 hour for the fruit and the wine to infuse each other, but you can drink it right away.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Beer Can Chicken Rub:
2 tablespoons salt
2 tablespoons onion powder
1 tablespoon cayenne pepper
1 tablespoon ground cumin
2 teaspoons dried thyme
2 teaspoons dried oregano
2 teaspoons black pepper
2 teaspoons garlic powder
4 pounds chicken, washed and dried
Beer Can Chicken Rub
1 (12-ounce) can beer
For the chicken rub:
In a small bowl mix all the ingredients together and use for the grilled chicken. You can store extra rub mixture in an airtight container for up to 6 months.
Preheat your grill to medium-high heat.
Rub the chicken and its cavity down with the vegetable oil. Season the chicken with rub mixture, remembering to season the cavity. Pour out 1/4 of the beer and sit the chicken on top of the beer can. Place the chicken in the center of the hot grill and cover. Cook the chicken for 1 to 1.5 hours, or until an instant-read thermometer registers 165 degrees F.
Friday, May 22, 2009
First, as with many other trips, you instantly gauge who are friends or foes of children the minute you enter a plane with one. Eyes either light up or they roll. There seems to be very little in between. We love sitting by the grandparents. And you can tell grandparents the minute you see them. Eyes lock, secret society looks are exchanged. Prior to having our son, I wouldn't have noticed a grandparent unless it was holding that child singing "I AM YOUR GRANDMA".
Oh you don't like babies? So what. Many people share your sentiments. However, I don't like onions yet I am able to contain myself when I see them at Whole Foods. Oh, but onions don't make a big racket? Especially on an enclosed airplane? Oh, I feel you, I really do.
So changing diapers and over-packing aren't the issue. We put a modest amount of toys/books in our aerodynamic flight bag and get on the plane.
But then, he doesn't exactly want to sit in his seat. Hmmm, that will prove to be more challenging. And it got just a touch ugly. And by "a touch" I mean, I looked at my watch when his fitfulness began. I looked at it about 2 hours later and realized hmmm, actually, only 14 minutes had passed. How silly of me not to recall that toddler time is the reverse of warp time but only when things are going South. And then he wanted the cheerios that fell on the floor. Nothing spells delicious better than food that has touched the floor of an airplane.
And since we love to travel, we hope our little man loves to travel. So this means there will be plane rides involved. And it will only get better...as long as we all come off the jetway in one piece. Or, I may be the first one sprinting off saying "let's have a cocktail!!!!" (And of course, I will likely say that anyway.)
And I will be posting from south of the border so tune in.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Besides those of you who will simply love looking at the photo which will be, oh, many of you. For the rest, let's talk about some good old-fashioned sports controversy.
Then what is the scuttlebutt? Listen.
Mark Sanchez recently did a very tasteful photo shoot for the June issue of GQ magazine. See photo above in the event you missed it. So what? I know. GQ did similar shoots with Tom Brady and Matt Leinart. Why is this an issue? Why is this being talked about to ad nauseum on every Sports Talk radio station from here to Fairbanks? Oh, I'll tell you....
It is because some of the AFC fans in the NE quadrant are infuriated. Why? First, I think the Jets fans are salty because they lost half their games last season, and of course, with the oscillating talents of Brett "I'm in. No, no I'm out. No, back in. Totally in. No, seriously, out. Completely out" Favre, it would suck to have your hopes for the season collect at the bottom of the port-a-john.
Let's review the crime Mark Sanchez committed. Oh, he skipped minicamp to take his shirt off and run down the beach? Oh, he didn't miss camp in May? But you are worried he will be too off-center to focus for minicamp in June? Stop fretting. But you are mad because he failed to learn his routes? He doesn't comprehend the playing schemes? Won't engage in full contact drills so he doesn't harm those glorious abs? Oh, he is still producing 100%? Oh, you just don't like him being distracted? You all are just silly.
These are your average Jets fan, and the one in the helmet is apparently "THE" Jets fan. So round, sweaty, and emphatic. I can see why Mark Sanchez is troubling you. Guess what, taking his shirt off and posing with long-legged blondes is not going to impact his ability to think, act, and react. Or at least that is what you claimed from all of your years of reading Playboy magazine in which the women were posing only to put themselves through medical school.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Southern Farmstead cooking takes a big bite at JCT Kitchen & Bar in West Midtown Atlanta. JohnnyMac and I dropped in last weekend for some adults-only time. Little man went to grandma's and I was done with my first glass of wine before I finished reading the menu. I will say, while the wine list is small, they have great choices including Twenty Bench which is a fantastic Napa Cabernet. We have been before but it has been months. JohnnyMac was thrilled to be reminded of the quantity of meat available on the dinner menu, which included several dishes either wrapped, covered, or intertwined with bacon. For me, I love real Fried Chicken. I wouldn't dream of making it my own house (or I have dreamed of it, but won't do it.) So when I have access to the real thing, in certain circumstances, I am all in.
The gaggle of men from the Atlanta Gay Men's Chorus sitting next to us were big fun, and when one of them was enthusiastically chomping away at the Fried Chicken, he offered me a bite (perhaps because I was watching it so earnestly). My incredible fried chicken came with mac and cheese, and garlicky green beans. 45 minutes of running earlier that day was worth every minute to enjoy every bite of this southern fare. Halfway through mine, one of our table neighbors leaned over and asked me if it was delicious. Of course it was.
Another smart accoutrement is live music including a great acoustic guitar player named Todd B. Wells. Coincidentally, I booked him for one of my holiday parties years ago. While Jason Michael Fulton is still my favorite acoustic guitar player in Atlanta, Todd Wells is dynamite. A great upstairs deck and patio gives you a great spot to park while you sip vino and listen.
And they have something each week called Sunday Suppers which includes, as JohnnyMac's eyes lit up, a bevy of meats and true Southern side dishes. I will need a few more laps at the park before I go back, but this visit was fantastic.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Here's how it went down. I saunter through the door one night, bags in hand, straight into the vortex of chaos. I see our entire entryway, from front door up staircase, covered in contents that hours ago I swore were neatly tucked in place in our son's room. JohnnyMac greets me at the door as our son practices jumping into the lofty pile of blankets and pillows. Clearly, I know something is amiss as I watch our son gambol deeper in the disorder.
JohnnyMac informed me he came home to find a mouse perched on top of our front door blinds.
A mouse? Oh yes, a mouse. And JohnnyMac had been in hot pursuit for four hours. I wondered aloud how it could have possibly got in our house. Did we leave a door open?
Oh, city slickers. How naive. A house mouse can literally squeeze itself through an opening smaller than a pencil. Did we leave the door open? Oh brother.
JohnnyMac and I briefly confer. He has sequestered the infiltrate in our son's room. Last seen under the bed. I ask him to trap as humanely as possible so perhaps it can be set free. JohnnyMac is highly irritated in a multitude of ways. Not only at the bevy of tactical maneuvers required to corral said mouse, while removing every single item on our son's floor (including the closet) while keeping our son out of his room. And then of course, trying to actually trap the mouse. And now, my special request that he throw a little Dr. Doolittle into the mix. JohnnyMac just swallowed all that acerbity right down.
I take the Bird (another one of our son's nicknames) with me upstairs while JohnnyMac tries to flush out the invidious guest. Another hour passes. JohnnyMac returns upstairs. Defeated. He has a broom in one hand and fury in the other. We look at the clock and realize we have less than an hour until the little man needs to go to bed, and we certainly aren't rooming him with any nibbling mammal from the order Rodentia. What to do. We decide to set up the previously used pack and play in our room as a back up. Poor choice. Little man saw that and said "That's for babies!!!!" Oh boy.
JohnnyMac goes back downstairs and as time ticks by, I have no alternative but get the wee one ready and put him in his pack and play. Our child's response could only be interpreted as I DON'T THINK SO. First, our son is very long. And apparently very strong. He can get out of the pack and play more quickly than a baby ninja. It takes incredible trickery and persuasion. Finally, he stays put and proceeds to cry hard enough to choke himself. I rub his back and he fumes. Loudly. Finally, JohnnyMac comes upstairs and says the mouse is cornered under the bed.
How in the h*ll does something not even four inches long effect totally anarchy in my house. I DON'T THINK SO. We go down in the kitchen where I grab the broom, a can of raid, a box of freshly purchased decon, and go towards the stairs. JohnnyMac asks, "What are you going to do?"
Kill that Mother______.
My son will not go to sleep. He is so upset that he is basically back in a baby shoe box that his resonating wails fill our entire house. I will kill this mouse. As a last minute thought, I swap my ballet slippers for knee high galoshes hence any mouse guts splash on me. I sprinkled DeCon in the corners of the room (super smart move...spread poison in your son's room. Excellent). I then find the mouse is indeed under the bed and I immediately block all of the sides with items found in the hall. I then jam the broom handle at him about 100 mph. He runs. Up the wall. Literally. Are you KIDDING ME? Now you are Spiderman? I am going to smash you and enjoy every second.
Had I only listened carefully, I would have heard that mouse saying I DON'T THINK SO.
That mouse ran up the wall and then hid somewhere between the mattress and boxspring. I pulled that huge bed further away from the wall and that mouse jumped right on the bed. Looking at me, whispering "is that all you've got? I'm just getting warmed up."
Let me share with you something you will never do. Catch a !*&^!%!$ house mouse. I spent two more hours watching him mouse be nimble, mouse be quick, mouse go under my broom like it was a limbo stick. I was so irritated I thought I was going to hemorrhage. And as I stared at him, he slipped through a crack no bigger than a staple between the floor and the baseboard. Wonderful. I will seal you in your concrete death tomorrow.
Our child finally fell asleep because apparently herculean crying is quite fatiguing. JohnnyMac was up close and personal with a Sam Adams White Ale. We called Terminex first thing in the morning.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Something incredibly warm, inviting, and guaranteed to disappear. I made this last weekend when we hosted a Mother's Day brunch for eleven people. Besides the two pounds of bacon my brother insisted on (with JohnnyMac's hearty support), I added this and the delicious Mini Frittatas I have previously shared. There wasn't a bite remaining. Of anything.
I omitted the blueberries but added a teaspoon of cardamom. This little treat filled my house with the smell of cinnamon and maple as it baked into custard perfection. Another Giada De Laurentiis speciality. Buon Appetito.
Baked French Toast with Blueberries
3 cups whole milk
3/4 cup maple syrup, plus extra for serving
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon, plus 1 tablespoon
1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
1 lemon, zested
6 (1-inch thick) slices (8 ounces) day-old challah or sourdough bread, cut into 1-inch cubes
2 cups (12 ounces) fresh or frozen, thawed, and drained blueberries
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
Friday, May 15, 2009
Someone sent me an email asking me where all my "followers" were. That is interesting in that:
1. I don't know this person and 2. I am not a religious, pop culture, or political figurehead, so I didn't actually expect to have any followers.
But this blogger asserted followers are where it's at.
I thought Beck already stated where it's at is two turntables and a microphone. But apparently not in blogger world.
Thank you K. McC., for being my first follower. I appreciate you leading the way.
And now, for those who come across these pages, either frequently or infrequently, here is your invitation to follow me so you too can be "where it's at."
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
And then same said man, wants to have a statue of a tiny girl in a blue onesie jumper, licking an ice cream cone, and holding balloons. Well, you hope he is only having it commissioned in order to donate it to a city park and not actually going to keep it in his home. Or in the alternative, he would have such a statue as a tribute to some nice family member for her birthday perhaps. Or by some stretch, he would have it only as a testament to good will and welcoming gestures. No need to even remark on the reputation of said man, right?
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Here is a list of some of my favorites, one for every day of the week.
1. http://www.newseum.org/ : This includes the real time front pages of over 450 newspapers around the world.
2. http://www.ted.com/: Ideas worth spreading. Interesting library of live talks by remarkable people from all around the world on topics ranging from science to global issues.
3. http://www.ehow.com/: An online learning resource on how to do just about everything.
4. http://www.freerice.com/: Test your vocab and as you succeed, you are automatically contributing to the UN World Food Program.
5. http://www.songfacts.com/: We have all wanted to know what "In the Air Tonight" was really about and here is the website that gives the meaning behind thousands of songs. Readers can also comment.
6. http://www.picaboo.com/: Make your own coffee table book of photos with your own design. It is the easiest tool to upload, and has an online resource center. I used it for my wedding album and when the gorgeous black leather book came, I was totally thrilled.
7. http://www.visuwords.com/: An online graphical dictionary.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
So thank you JohnnyMac. You were the first man I met that made me want such permanency. And you brought an entirely new level of value and true depth to my life involving marriage and parenting. And thank you for taking me to NYC and sending us home with a permanent souvenir.
And my son. Without you I would not be celebrated today.
You are such a little man. You are proof that goodness, that is pure and true exists. And I want you, your life, and all that you will become to be not only a reflection on us, but a reflection of us. It is a lot to live up to, I know. But I hope the greatest characteristics of both Daddy and I are the only ones we instill upon you.
My son, every initial sense of leadership, strength and character you learn will come from inside this house. I take that to heart and while I may disappoint you (and certainly irritate you circa 10 years from now or so) if you respect me, I have gained immeasurable ground. We teach people how to treat us, and I want you to have everything you need to go in the world and lead.
And you have made me patient in ways I did not think achievable. For this, you should be anointed King. You have made me laugh as you are particularly delighted with things I may have thought I was far too busy to notice before. And the first time you got hurt (and in retrospect, it was just a tiny hurt but you were terrified), I knew how true responsibility felt because I amassed some abnormal level of strength and clarity to do whatever was necessary (short of performing surgery in our kitchen) to heal you.
The day in the car when you asked to hear Count on Me, and as you sang along with the words, you moved me in such a personal and loving way. Count on Me is our song. And the first song Daddy and I danced to at our wedding. To have you unknowingly instill that song in your memory bank and personal playlist made me catch my breath. And I have not told another person that until now. It was a beautiful day when you came along but these moments, these opportunities for things I like to inherently and magically become things you like, its amazing to witness.
It is a huge responsibility to be your mom. You are gifted and we greet that part of you with open arms. You have everything we have to offer at your fingertips and our job is to help you become a great boy, and a great man. And as we learn how to do that with you, I hope I am what you believe is the absolute best you could have as a Mom.
I hope I live up to the great expectation, but loving you along the way will be the easy part. Thank you for giving me an entirely new role and title. You were worth every second of waiting.
PS: Thank you for telling me you wanted a brother because "Daddy has one." Let's see how we all end up on the other side of toddler years and we can revisit that request.
PSS: Daddy had what looked like a tiny stroke when I told him what you said so no need to approach with with that specific request either.
I love you, Baby LAM.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
1 pound unsalted butter
1 pound plus 12 ounces semisweet chocolate chips, divided
6 ounces unsweetened chocolate
6 extra-large eggs
3 tablespoons instant coffee powder
2 tablespoons real vanilla extract
2 1/4 cups sugar
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour, divided (1 cup for batter and 1/4 cup in the chips and nuts)
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt
Friday, May 8, 2009
Highly skilled at rappelling, fighting skills, anti-riot management, boxing, karate and tae kwon do. In addition to being multi-lingual, trained to abseil from helicopters wearing battle-packs, maneuver high speed Yamaha superbikes, be sharpshooters with 9mm handguns, they are also required lay down lives to protect those put under their care.
All I can add is that if you can do all of the above AND perch on one shoulder while maintaining your weapon, you are a bad ass.
Oh, and this Special Unit is all-female. Even more bad ass.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
This employee, estimated around 27 years old, working for one of the largest companies in the US. This employee comes to work in jeans. His supervisor, who reports to JohnnyMac, can clearly handle passing along the coaching tip. This is a business environment. Business casual means trousers and button downs or golf shirts. What his supervisor did not say was look around. Do you see people wearing jeans? Your environment is a beacon of information. Use it.
BlueJeans quickly forgot the quick tete a tete. He wore jeans again. And again. Supervisor finally quashed this under who knows what sort of communication. I am perplexed that an employee who actually wants to maintain employment would digress when repeatedly given warnings.
As a quick sidebar, I think grown individuals working in "typical" office environments should have obligatory awareness of what elements are likely to be beheld as "inappropriate for work".
Which would include, at the minimum:
blue jeans (unless allowed), flip flops, midriff baring shirts, your prison style chest tattoo, your cleavage, your underwear tag, your copious chest hair, your Miller Lite tee, or anything bearing the Playboy Bunny icon.
However, BlueJeans certainly found another way to occupy his time. When BlueJeans was finally terminated a few weeks ago, he requested time to sort out his personal effects. This is not a situation where you were employed at length, nor are you moving from one office to another.
What personal effects do you need an hour or more to sort out? BlueJeans had stacks and stacks of documents he claimed were personal and wanted to maintain. Supervisor certainly utilized a level of patience I might not have afforded. BlueJeans had hundred and hundreds of pieces of paper, printed at the office. What could be so consuming that you would have hundreds of pieces of paper related to a personal item that you printed at the office?
He hacked into his ex-girlfriends Facebook account and email and had printed all of the correspondence relative to him. The primary narrative of her correspondence? That he was nuts and she was glad to be rid of him. Supervisor decided to inflict some pain and require that since the documents were technically company property, he would have someone make copies. Of every piece. Excellent. BlueJeans visibly wiped the sweat from his brow.
Oh BlueJeans, you must not want to work. This is an office, not your college apartment. In all your internet time, did you not scan the news a time or two? Are you aware of the current state of our economy? Do you know PhDs are applying to work as baristas at Starbucks? Jobs do not abound. Do you need me, JennyMac, to tell you to not take business to0 casual? Wear your khakis. And obviously you shouldn't use a ream or two of paper (which is also evidence against you) as well as company time, equipment, and product for your own little FaceBookgate as you cyberstalk your ex. Had she only mentioned "about to be unemployed" she would have your profile nailed down pat.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Something tells me the Board of Education in Brevard County, Florida is a wee bit liberal, yes?
While I applaud the efforts to raise money for the American Cancer Society, I think junior and senior high school teachers bearing it down to the bare skin to make a calendar is just a smidge over the top. This photo is the group of teachers who so willingly donned shirts for a good cause.
One of the teachers, Mr. August, claimed the kids don't like to look at their "goofy teachers" however, he did think that "a lot of moms really like the calendar." Oh really. I feel like I am about to sip a dangerous (dangerous, bizarre and completely unwelcome) beverage mixed of equal parts Porky's, American Pie, and Desperate Housewives.
And the cherry on top? (of course, no pun intended) the Principle of the school, Tim Cool (Principal Cool, are you serious?) said he was easily persuaded to pose because the calendar supports a worthy cause. A year ago, his mother died of cancer, so the picture also was a tribute to her, he said.
I am not sure I can think of a single cause that would warrant my child posing semi-nude for a calendar in my memory, honor, or anything else. But then again, we don't live down in
Cocoa "Awwwww yeah boyeeeeee" Beach.
Before I go, I would like to comment that apparently, at least the Ab Roller is a staple down at the Beach. My oh my, some of these cats don't skip the crunches but I am not even going to comment on the guy in the front row.
Thanks Detention Slip for sharing this tidbit.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
What might this be, you ask. Do you see the yoga mat? And the gentle stretching of the dog's limb? Yes, you are seeing correctly. This is doggie yoga. Traditionally, a physical and mental discipline enjoyed by millions of people, I can not assert I was even aware canines enjoyed the practice as well. Oh wait, I am not sure if that little face above shows a tranquility and etherealness. And while this dog may just be in a zen space, I would wager that a stroll at the park or perhaps a doggie ice cream would produce a purer sense (and demonstration )of joy. This little face seems to ask, "ummm, what did I do?"
While it may be the truest form of downward facing dog, I have to applaud this doggie for even tolerating it. I wonder if a dog has such stress that doggie yoga is an actual and possible relief? I tried a doggie yoga pose on Nixon once, and let's just say, I am lucky I didn't wake up to a puddle in my slipper.
There were numerous other dogs in this class too. Including some taking a big snooze. Peaceful canine chakra? Love it. Getting your "doggie yoga" certification? Who knew such a career existed.
And if it works to bring peace and harmonious hearts to man's best friend, there are a few yappers in my neighborhood that should start immediately.