Tag Archives: food

I’ll take two Vicodin and a shot of bourbon to go please

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Yesterday was our annual end of the summer party.

We cut the guest list by about 80 people or more. This year we only had 35. I am finding that really cooking for 35 is just as busy as cooking for 120. I stood at the grill from about 4:30 PM until about 6:30 PM – And add another four hours of standing on concrete in regards to the prep of making shish kebabs.

It was a great party.

18 bottles of wine, 2 pitchers of sangria, 2 cases of water, 2 cases of beer, 3 cases of soda, 39 skewers of shish kabobs, 2 antipasti platters, endless salads, the most amazing mini cupcakes, a big lemon birthday cake, a fabulous fruit and veggie tray and one very smoky bonfire – and a great time was had by all.

I don’t drink much at all- I believe somebody needs to be sober during a party.

Just in case.

So after being on my feet from about seven in the morning till 1:30 the following morning when I got out of bed this morning and attempted to walk I thought it was walking on two painful stumps. Back hurt my shoulders hurt my legs hurt my arms hurt.

Everything hurt.

So I took a pain pill this morning and really thought fleetingly about chasing it with a shot of bourbon but thought better of it.

And for the rest of the day I moved really really slow…

When Women Become Bitches….

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I stop what I’m doing and make homemade granola.

You think I kid — but no I am serious.

In my day job I am surrounded by thousands of women — 90% of who I deal with on a daily basis are women.  (I bet all you guys are licking your chops aren’t you.)

They are all different shapes, sizes, cultures, socioeconomic status, race, creed, faith, personalities,  and various walks of life — it’s truly for the most part a delightful diverse melting pot of individuals.

Most of the time I love my job.  Today is not one of those days.

The majority if the women I interact are delightful and I sincerely mean that. There are only a handful of women who I interact with who are not delightful and down right awful.

After spending almost all day attempting to resolve an issue that would make the majority happy I realized that there was no making everyone happy and I needed to come up with a resolution that would benefit the organization.

So I did.

And boy did he have howlers.

Instead of stressing myself to the point of a nervous breakdown I said :

“Screw this”

I shut everything down and made homemade granola from scratch that I can smell roasting in the oven.

Yep, that’s what I did.  When women become bitches you stop what you’re doing and make granola.

Today is Friday – My Friday five.

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Food:

1. What’s your favorite food?
2. If you were not allowed to drink water what beverage would you drink for the rest of your life?
3. What food do you refuse to eat under no circumstances?
4. What food can you not live without?
5. What food were you sure you’re going to hate but when you tried it you were pleasantly surprised?

You know you do it…

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When I read this I laughed until my sides hurt. My name should really be “inappropriate Annie”. I can’t remember when I realized I had this warped view of the world — but I do. It’s more than snarkines.

For instance Mr. Wordsjustfly and me ( or is it I?) have overhauled our diets. We are super focused on our health. (Being in AARP land does that do you) Anyhow we were out having dinner together with words junior. Looking around at who else was having a dinner alongside us — I began to notice some really large people — the wait staff seemed like vultures circling their kill almost salivating that they had rotund people in their establishment. Encouraging their large patrons to order two or three appetizers, huge entrees, and lots of dessert. It was crazy.

And all I could do was laugh. Isn’t that horrible? I literally saw dollar signs circling the heads of the wait staff as I thought to myself this place loves it when fat people come in – more money in their pockets.

And I began to laugh. I laughed so much I actually unnerved myself…

Sometimes I creep myself out – like that Radiohead song:

“I’m creep – I’m a weirdo – what the hell am I doing here…”