I had a pretty good weekend. On Friday, I met my friend Anne for dinner. She’s a successful executive who’s also a VERY talented actress, director, musician - okay, that’s it, Anne is joining Michelle on the list of my friends that I truly hate. Still, perhaps it says something positive about me that so many of my friends are brilliant, witty, talented, attractive - yeah, it says I have good taste.
On Saturday, the World’s Greatest Boss and I road-tripped to the lovely (ahem!) little hamlet of Columbus, Georgia for our salesweasel’s wedding. The wedding went well, no fights or fainting spells or tripping over things. Totally unlike a wedding in my family, in other words. Perhaps I’m just not used to Methodist services, but man, it was Warp-Speed Ceremony: started at seven and by seven-eighteen we were mingling in the aisles, headed for the Columbus Country Club! The highlight of the trip was the surreal moment when the boss and I stopped at a BP station to relieve ourselves prior to arriving at the church. I’d try to describe it further, but I don’t think I can do justice to the moment, so picture a podunk gas station on a Saturday night, when a lone Acura pulls into a parking lot full of pickup trucks and into the store walks a guy in a tux with a chick in a formal gown. Use your imaginations to complete the scenario.
An update on a prior theme, Sprocket’s birthday haggis: here is how I made a “tasty haggis” for my doggyboy, ‘tasty’ in this context an adjective meaning ‘fake’ or ‘spurious’. First I purchased a steakburger with cheese, ketchup and tomato at Steak 'N Shake - he likes these very much, and besides, you need the cheese as a bonding agent. I took off the top bun and mushed the rest up into a big gross gooey mess. Next, I stirred in 7 - 8 strands of cooked spaghetti - this was ‘worms’. Next I added some smoked oysters because those look like ogre boogers, even to people besides Sprocket. Last, I rolled the entire mess up in a green ‘stomach’ for which I used a spinach tortilla, which even in its natural state is a nasty green color. Sprocket doesn’t know cooked stomachs are gray, so the icky green added extra appeal. He only got to eat a little at a time because I was worried that it would be too rich, especially the oysters. I explained that an authentic haggis in Scotland is a wee bitty bit different but he was happy with the level of grossness and gunts I had achieved so he didn't question it too closely.
On Saturday, the World’s Greatest Boss and I road-tripped to the lovely (ahem!) little hamlet of Columbus, Georgia for our salesweasel’s wedding. The wedding went well, no fights or fainting spells or tripping over things. Totally unlike a wedding in my family, in other words. Perhaps I’m just not used to Methodist services, but man, it was Warp-Speed Ceremony: started at seven and by seven-eighteen we were mingling in the aisles, headed for the Columbus Country Club! The highlight of the trip was the surreal moment when the boss and I stopped at a BP station to relieve ourselves prior to arriving at the church. I’d try to describe it further, but I don’t think I can do justice to the moment, so picture a podunk gas station on a Saturday night, when a lone Acura pulls into a parking lot full of pickup trucks and into the store walks a guy in a tux with a chick in a formal gown. Use your imaginations to complete the scenario.
An update on a prior theme, Sprocket’s birthday haggis: here is how I made a “tasty haggis” for my doggyboy, ‘tasty’ in this context an adjective meaning ‘fake’ or ‘spurious’. First I purchased a steakburger with cheese, ketchup and tomato at Steak 'N Shake - he likes these very much, and besides, you need the cheese as a bonding agent. I took off the top bun and mushed the rest up into a big gross gooey mess. Next, I stirred in 7 - 8 strands of cooked spaghetti - this was ‘worms’. Next I added some smoked oysters because those look like ogre boogers, even to people besides Sprocket. Last, I rolled the entire mess up in a green ‘stomach’ for which I used a spinach tortilla, which even in its natural state is a nasty green color. Sprocket doesn’t know cooked stomachs are gray, so the icky green added extra appeal. He only got to eat a little at a time because I was worried that it would be too rich, especially the oysters. I explained that an authentic haggis in Scotland is a wee bitty bit different but he was happy with the level of grossness and gunts I had achieved so he didn't question it too closely.
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