Dairy Dread

Seriously, I mean. Mr. Froth is an excellent cook. He really is. But I go away for a week and he made some hamburger helper beef stroganoff (hey, it's a meal, don't judge!!!) and Frothlet #2 came over. Which would have been fine.

Except he used Lucerne French Vanilla coffee creamer instead of milk since as how he was out of actual milk.

That shit is sweet. It is not sour cream, which is what he should have used. He told me about this, but he didn't tell me that he'd actually saved the leftovers which I tried at lunch today-just one bite-and came this close to gakking all over Dot.

It was horrifying and wrong. Really wrong. Almost as wrong as the time I thought I was grabbing a bite of chocolate clustered rice crispy thingies in a bowl in the fridge and it was leftover garlic infused hamburger meat.

MmgshgarsHUHOOORKK.

There are too many weird unidentifiable things in my refrigerator. Thank you.

Yowzers

The trip was a trip. Remarkably or not so remarkably, the women were most easily recognizable after mumblety mumble years. However, I truly hate and detest having my picture taken and it's because I look like hell warmed over.

Be that as it may--it was tremendous fun, enlightening, encouraging and mindblowing to talk to people that I either knew, didn't really know, forgot I knew and realize that we've all been through life crap and it's just time to schmooze.

Peacefully, on either end, was a visit with the lovely Dr. and Mrs. Fooms and Mr. and Mrs. Floyd (who will be visiting next week to be subjected to OU/TX weekend--just Mr. Floyd-Mrs. Floyd and I will watch from the comfort of our home.) Visited Whidbey Island, ate fabu mussels, bought a bell (don't ax) and GOT TO SEE THE WONDERFUL BABY BOY ANTONIO! He rocks majorly.

After a certain point telling your story over and over and over and listening to everybody else's stories over and over and over is reminiscent of rush week for a sorority. But, the peripheral conversations, where you really find interesting stuff out were great. Plus the karaoke night. Whoo boy.

Reconnecting with the best highschool bud was indescribable. As was her mom's house. I may post pics about that.

That's all for now because I'm a bit shellshocked and need to lose 25 pounds and get rid of the eyebags and cut my hair. Maybe.

A most entrancing moment was towards the end of the "do" on Saturday night. A gent came over to our group and when we were reintroduced said, "Hi, Kim." like he actually remembered me. And I stroked his grizzled chin and looked upon his curly, longish hippyish hair and casual clothes and went "P??????"

He was the guy I would have bet you a bazillion dollars would have ended up a senator or mayor of Seattle or something quite buttoned down. He is a commercial fisherman/professor or teacher at a local college and the farthest thing from buttoned-down you'd ever expect. It was very intriguing. Total 180.

Seee youuuu in SeptEMMMMEMMEMber

Wait. It's already September. So see you in a week. While I'm gone, being nostalgic and schmoozing with peeps I may never have met in the past but probably did and might have forgotten, except for a couple who were buds, would someone PLEASE sweep up in here? Get the dog hair out of the corners, maybe swiffer the floor, wipe the baseboards off and put new flooring in. I'll pay you back. Really.

I should be sleeping now since I don't have to go to work. But am I? No. Of course not. I'm ADDing my way through getting packed. Then I'll take a nap and dither around for the day and then get on an airplane and go.

I'm hungry. Do you have any good breakfast items? Do you like this nail polish color? Does it make my fingers look fat? Should I take a sweater or just the fleece jacket thingie? How many pairs of shoes?

Behave yourselves. Or not.
You don't have to answer except for the food question. I want something good.

Dang

Now he told me to plug it in.

The outside wireless speaker, that is. Madeja look. 

Sandwich!

Ah, the lowly sandwich. I lurves me a sandwich. And I have just compiled a most beautiful, tasty, healthyish sorta sandwich ever.

Neighbors are coming over to watch OU play and I just noticed the inflatable covenant-violating football player is NOT IN OUR YARD! That's a crime. I have no idea what that's all about.

Anyway, Mr. Froth smoked a brisket and a turkey over Labor Day weekend and the turkey is heavenly. Plus, there's a lot of it. Aside, Mr. Froth just yelled from the garage, "Honey! Come help me get it up!"

The folks selling their house are thrilled about that.

Anyway, again, the sandwich is smoked turkey, avocado, lettuce, tomato, Havarti cheese on a big old Italian bread loaf with mayo/dijon/rosemary spread that I made myself. It's REALLY GOOD.

Gotta go help him get it up. Back later.

Off to the Great Northwest on Tuesday

So I shall be scrambling through my closet to pick out cool weather clothes, which is tough right now seeing as how it's 300 degrees and 7 Crazy Joanheads hot.

My word. Mickey Mouse!

Obama is speaking  in Milwaukee. The microphone situated in the center of his shirt looks exactly like Mickey Mouse. I kid you not. How amusing like.

Boomer Sooner Happy Labor Day Dot the Decorator

I took Thursday and Friday off, since I have nine million PTO days left. Plus, I'm tired and bored and nothing major was going on. I can't tell you how nice it is to toss and turn at night and look at the clock and KNOW YOU CAN SLEEP TIL 9.

Unless Dot decides to get you up at 6:30. But, it's still good. I've read two and a half books in the past three days. Good ones, too. I did my nails and they're a striking shiny Sooner red for the football game today. I watched Merv gaze idly, idely?, in an idle manner... it looked funny...anyway, last night while I was finishing up Father of the Rain  , which I recommend, sitting on the front porch, a weeny itty bitty possum scooted by the front step. He was SO cute. Maybe 8 inches long and obviously a newbie to the neighborhood. Merv was lying next to the window and did nothing. Just watched the possum roam around the column, nose about the empty flower pot leisurely and wander off to his happy home (under our spa we think.) He is a smart cat.

Today we're heading to the neighbors' to watch Oklahoma play Utah State. It's football season, folks. The inflatable is up in our yard (our neighbors own it but we're on a wraparound at the top of the cul-de-sac and offer much more covenant violation opportunities and in your faceness than they do in the back) and I'm marinating chicken and pork satay to take over. Plus couscous, summer sausage, wine and bagel chips. We're eclectic, yes we are.

Dot, of course, may not attend the festivities. She must have felt this earlier in the week, choosing to make her displeasure, boredom or disapproval of the team matchup known quite succinctly. I present Dot the Decorator:

We now have duct tape and chili powder ringing our kitchen area. It's all very hobopunk, I think. I believe "hobopunk" is our "style" and if it isn't a real, observable trend in interior arrangement it should be. I claim ownership of the term if it isn't already trademarked.

Must away to broil the satay, taste the peanut sauce again (it is PERFECTO) and enjoy another two and a half days of do-nothingness. Gad, it's great.