I guess they do put ANYTHING in ice cream these days!

We have lots of great hard ice creams and one that is especially popular this season is a gourmet flavor from a company called Ashbys, and the flavor is called "Berry Potter." It's described on a company flier as being "a creamy vanilla magically swirled with delectable berries and small bits of crunchy muggle."

So a grandma comes in with her grandson who looks to be about age five. She read every single flavor name of ice cream to him and describe what each kind was. When she got to "Berry Potter" she exclaimed: "Oh Johnny, I bet you'll love this one" and she told him what was in it.

His little eyes got as big as saucers and his little lip quivered. He cried out: "I would NEVER eat ice cream made of .... PEOPLE" and the tears flowed.

He was so upset he wouldn't eat any ice cream at all and grandma had no clue why he was so distraught. When I told her that in all the Harry Potter books, 'muggles' were actually people who were non- wizards (basically regular old humans) she was mortified. He cried harder and they left.

I couldn't help but giggle. I know I'm terrible!

I wonder what he would've thought about the flavor we have called "Superman"?

Muggle eater,
Maggie

Meals with Maggie- Pasta Salad with chicken

I love pasta salad and everybody makes it their own way. This is what I'm doing right now, making my yummy summer salad. Here's my recipe:

• box of tri-colored pasta (I use this because I like the color but you can use any type of pasta you want)
  
• cucumber (I use 1)
  
• tomatoes (I use a pint of grape tomatoes)
  
• green pepper (I use 1)
  
• an orange or a yellow pepper (I use 1)
  
• black olives, sliced (I use one small can, pre-sliced)
  
• bottle of Italian Dressing (I like Kraft)
• Optional items: onion, cheddar cheese, Parmesan cheese
• chicken (canned or pieces that have been cooked thoroughly and taken off the bone)
  

Follow the directions on the pasta box: boil, drain and cool. Peel cucumber and chop. Chop peppers and tomatoes. Add the chopped veggies to the pasta. Drain a can of sliced black olives and add to pasta and veggie mixture. Today I used 2 cans of chicken, drained, and added to the mix. Toss with entire bottle of dressing. Chill for a few hours before serving, occasionally stirring while it's chilling.

I always garnish with fresh grated Parmesan cheese before I serve it. Use as many or as few veggies as you desire.

Some people like onions in it and I don't. I will chop some onions and cover with some of the dressing and store in a separate container so anyone can spoon it into the salad.

Obviously, you can add more (or less) veggies and the cheddar cheese if you want. I like it to be colorful so if I use red tomatoes I use orange and green peppers, or if I use yellow tomatoes I use orange and red peppers. Occasionally I get crazy and add squash.

So there you have it- a nice cool recipe to help beat the summer heat. Let me know how you make it- I love to know alternatives!

And it won't catch the house on fire. And I couldn't think of anything else to write about today.

Bon Appetit,
Maggie

They Like me, they really like me!

OMG- my first blogger award!!!!!!!! Now, how cool is that? I could go on and on and thank all those who made this possible and... well... as I told The Prodigal Tourist and his wife who presented me with this lovely award, I would be one of those Academy Award winners the orchestra would cut off and they would be forced to go to commercial because I would never stop gushing...

TPT thinks I have a good attitude- so thank you!

I want to pass the award on to:

• Farrago for always being an honest blogger that makes me laugh, sometimes in spite of myself!
• Tense Teacher who tells it like it is and stays human at the same time
• Ty-Anna for always finding the good side of everything, and helping me see good things
  

Again, thank you TPT for this award!

Stepping meme

STEP ONE: Spell your name with song titles

"Maggie Mae" Rod Stewart
"Age of Aquarius" by The 5th Dimension
"Glory Days" The Boss
"Good Bye Girl" by Hootie and the Blow Fish
"I'll Be there for You" by Bon Jovi
"Every Breath you take" by The Police

STEP TWO:

Name: Maggie
Birthday: Sept. 26
Nickname: I don't have one, tho dad called me Gracie when I was a kid
Eye Color: brown
Hair Color: Brunette with lots of red
Zodiac Sign: Libra

STEP THREE:

The shoes you wore today: None yet
Your weaknesses: Shoes, purses, books, chocolate
Your fear(s): spiders, death
Your perfect pizza: mushroom with extra cheese
Goal you’d like to achieve: having a full time job with good money that makes me happy

STEP FOUR:

Your best physical feature: eyes
Your bedtime: 10-11- ish when I'm working and when I'm not I like to stay up late and sleep in
Most missed memory: How do you miss a memory? If I remembered it I wouldn't be missing it, would I?

STEP FIVE:
This Or That…

Pepsi or Coke: Pepsi
McDonald’s or Burger King: McDonald’s
Adidas or Nike: Sketchers
Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: Lipton
Chocolate or Vanilla: chocolate
Cappuccino or coffee: Venti Peppermint Mocha

STEP SIX:
Do You…

Smoke? No
Curse? yes
Sing? Yes
Dance? yes
Take a shower everyday? oh yeah
Have a crush? Johnny Depp and John Cusack
Think you’ve been in love? yes
Want to go to college? yes
Like(d) high school? no
Want to get married? no
Get motion sickness? get car sick in the back seat
Think you’re attractive? no
Think you’re a health freak? um, NO!
Get along with your parents? yes

STEP SEVEN:
In the past month, have you…

Gone to the mall? yes
Eaten an entire box of Oreos? No
Eaten sushi? no
Been on stage? yes
Gone skating? No
Made homemade cookies? yes
Gone skinny-dipping? No
Stolen anything? No

STEP EIGHT:
Ever…

Played a game that required removal of clothing? No
Flashed anyone? Yes
Been beaten up? No
Shoplifted? No

STEP NINE:

Age you hope to be married: I don't plan on being married again....
Number of children: 1- age 16 year old Mac
Describe your dream wedding: well... either just a small private wedding with no frills and then have a huge big reception with a hog roast and a huge band with an open bar. Then my other choice is to get married with a few friends and family at a historic home at sundown in the snow with candles and then a private supper inside with a string quartet playing
Which country would you most like to visit? England

STEP TEN:
In the opposite sex…

Best eye color: doesn't matter
Best hair color: doesn't matter
Short hair or long hair: doesn't matter
Height: taller than me

STEP ELEVEN:

Number of people I could trust with my life: about 3
Number of CDs that I own: Probably about 100
Number of tattoos: one
Number of piercings: two- one in each ear

PERSONAL QUIZ:

Whom were you with yesterday? Mac for most of the day and evening with Mac and Daddy-O
What woke you up this morning? my natural body clock
Where are you? On a chair in the living room
Is tomorrow going to be a good day? sure
Do you like anybody? I like lots of people.

THE PAST

Ever thrown up in public? Yes- ON a bar
Passed out because of alcohol? yes, once
What’s on your mind RIGHT NOW? nothing

THE FUTURE

What kind of home would you like? an old Victorian or antebellum home
What do you want to be when you grow up? A teacher or book editor or a B and B owner
Where do you see yourself in 5 years? I don't think that far ahead

IN GENERAL

Do you like candy necklaces? Sure!
When was the last time you fell over or ran into something? Friday I ran into a table at work carrying 5 gallons of Mint chocolate chip ice cream
Do you listen to music every day? just about
Do you still go trick or treating? No but I've thought about it
What was the last thing you ate? strawberry cream cheese Danish
Are you a fast typer? Yes
What’s your favorite type of soda? Pepsi
Have you ever moved? Yes
Have you ever won an award? yes
Are you listening to music right now? Nope
How long ’till your birthday? about 3 months
When were you the saddest in your whole life? I'm not sure... I think there are different types of "sad"
What time is it? 11:27 AM
Do you use eBay to buy or sell? No
Who makes you mad? rude and stupid people
Have you ever heard a song written about you? No
Something you want to happen in 2009? find a full time job and lose weight
Summer 2009? find a full time job
Do you miss 2008? No

HONESTY SECTION

Honestly, what color is your underwear? purple
Honestly, what’s on your mind? Wondering if I really have to work today or if I can get out of it
Honestly, what are you doing right now? Trying to finish this and listening to dad talk
Honestly, have you done something bad today? not yet
Honestly, who is the last person you talked to on the phone? Daddy-O
Honestly, are you jealous of someone right now? yes
Honestly, what makes you mad most of the time? Stupidity and rudeness
Honestly, do you bite your nails? No- it's one of my biggest pet peeves!
Honestly, have you had an eating disorder? I over eat!
Honestly, do you want to see someone this very moment? yes
Honestly, are you keeping a big secret now? Probably
Honestly, do you have a friend you don’t actually like? yes
Honestly, are you in denial? About a few things, yes
Honestly, do you get up in the middle of the night and eat? No
Honestly, does anyone like you? I should hope!

ANGER SECTION

What do you do when you’re mad? Fume silently
What’s the worst thing you’ve done when you were mad? Said stupid, hurtful things
Ever made anyone cry when you were mad? yes
Do you swear when you’re mad? sometimes

CRYING SECTION

When was the last time you actually cried? I don't remember
Ever cried yourself to sleep? yes
Do certain songs make you cry? not so much anymore
What usually makes you cry?I don't cry hardly anymore

HAPPY SECTION

Are you usually a happy person? Believe it or not, yes
What makes you the happiest? a good day
Do you believe in yourself? no
When people say they think you are good looking/pretty, do you get happy? yes

Thanks Tense Teacher for another great meme!

I no longer EnV CrackBerry users

Last week I got my second replacement BlackBerry. I just got my first Blackberry back in January of this year and I've had nothing but problems with it since day one. I've had very problems with it: wouldn't sync with my laptop, wouldn't connect to the WWW on the device, the email wouldn't work properly, it would freeze on a regular basis and I spent more time taking the battery out and putting it back in than I did using the Crackberry.

The newest replacement and the newest problem is that it shuts itself off and turns itself back on about every 3 minutes and has done that for a week.

I finally cracked up a bit when I called VerizonWireless. Let me tell you how badly this situation had gotten: I had the name and personal phone number with her extension and her personal email of a VZW technician who's been helping me with the mess that was my CrackBerry.

So I called her on Friday and finally said this was it and I hated it. I said if VZW wouldn't fix it, I was going to refuse to pay my bill and file daily complaints daily and with the Better Business Bureau until they were sick of me. She felt badly and thought I should be finished with Blackberry products. So she put me on hold and when she came back, it was all fixed.

The company is sending me a phone called an EnV2. I realize there is a phone called the EnV3 but since they were making exceptions they couldn't upgrade me to the "3". I guess the EnV2 is the Lg version of the Blackberry Curve and will do everything the Blackberry Curve would do except sync with Outlook- BUT my Crackberry Curve never would sync so I have no idea what I'm missing there.

So on Monday via Fed. Ex. I should be receiving my new EnV2 . So I guess we'll see what happens and if it functions well, like my old Strawberry Chocolate did, or if it turns out to be a piece of crap like my Crapberry... Cross your fingers that this phone functions properly. Either that or I'll be melting down.

Ring*ring,
Mags

Teaching...

So I've realized I want to teach.... all the time because I like kids, I like educating others, I'm good at it and.... OMG- I like it. And while I'm walking on the ledge right now, I'll even admit I LIKE middle school kids lots. And no, I swear I'm not drunk; I'm not even drinking. Now that I've had this life altering blast of lightening after 9 years of combined high school, middle school and college teaching, and I should have some direction, I can only ask myself: "Now what?"

Options:
1. teach at private schools (boarding schools) because most of them don't require teaching licenses

2. Keep doing what I'm doing and enroll in school to pick up my certification

3. Keep doing what I'm doing and finish my Master's Degree so I can teach college

4. Apply for a bunch of jobs in a state that just riffed over 200 teachers and hope some school system might hire me on an emergency cert...

These options suck.

Bragger- hire me, please!

Teacher wannabe,
Mags

Aches and pains

I love Icy Hot. I am now officially a HUGE fan of this cream. Because I am feeling old. Because I am feeling sore. I hate the smell but I sure can live with it because my knees, elbows, shoulder and ankles thank me in the morning.

I'm not used to being on my feet all day and working at the ice cream parlor is kicking my ass. I usually work with the owner which is good and bad. It's good that she leaves me alone and let's me do my thing since I'm an adult and she doesn't feel she needs to stay on me like she does when she has teenagers working. The bad side is she had back surgery about a month ago so she doesn't do much. So that means most of the orders fall to me to prepare- and I think I scooped about 100 cones yesterday afternoon. I worked a 6 hour shift and never sat down- hence my love affair with Icy Hot.

I know if I lost weight and exercised more this wouldn't bother me as much because I am out of shape. I've also never had a job that wouldn't let me ever sit down at all, even when I was waitressing I could cop a squat at times. But this is just go- go -GO all the time, even if there are no customers, there are dishes to wash and sticky messes to clean. And I think yesterday was especially ick because the air conditioner wasn't working so it was about 90 degrees inside AND outside yesterday. (Okay that has nothing to do with aching bones and joints but I thought I would just toss it in there for good measure!)

But hey, again, it's a job and I like my co-workers and I like the owners so it's all good. I just wonder if they would buy Icy Hot buy the case and keep it in the staff room for us, sort of like a staff bonus or something?

Stiff and sore,
Mags

Pandora's Boom Box- 21st century style

I went to the Verizon store the other day to have my second replacement Crackberry fixed because it's a piece of shit, but something good did come of that horrible 2 hour experience at the Verizon store.

The woman who waited on me has a Crackberry of her own and while she was updating the crap on my piece of crap phone, she asked me if I used Pandora. I had a feeling she wasn't talking about the chick with the box of a thousand horrors but something that could be Blackberry related.

Apparently I have been totally missing out on this wonderful music feature that's free and available online AND on the Crackberry- what's cool is that my cell phone is actually only good as a radio. Sad, isn't it?

Anyway, so Pandora is an online radio station. And what's even better is that it's PROGRAMMABLE! I can type in "Billy Joel" and create a Billy Joel station that will play his music and others in the style of him. I can do that with any artist I want. I even found a genre that's "Chicago Blues" which is cool. Registering is free and setting it up is free. And you can play it on hand held Blackberry like devices as well as through the computer. There is radio you can buy or subscribe to through it, but the free is great, but with just short commercials.

You can also rate the songs, you get 6 skips, you can look at the history of songs... it's awesome! You can have 100 stations total that are created. I know there's more to it- you can share your stations with friends but I have no idea how that works. Go look at it yourself- you can't expect me to do everything for ya: you know I'm technologically impaired. But hey, it's free.

So take a look and see what you can create- your own music. Listen and enjoy.

Dancin' in the sheets,
Maggie

Guess what I heard at the ice cream parlor?

I was working at the ice cream parlor the other night and I was wearing a Harvard T-shirt. I want to say I didn't attend nor did I graduate from there. But it's no different than others wearing shirts from a favorite university, right?

So a customer asked me, based on what I was wearing,:

"If you got a degree from Harvard, then why ya dipping ice cream here?"

Rude bastard. I hate rude and stupid people.

Mac's magazine

A funny thing happened on the way to the news stand... No actually, in Mac's mailbox.

It all started because last Sept. I renewed Mac's subscription to his Electronic Gaming Monthly magazine. This is a mag that is target toward people who want to be in the know about all things Video Game related. It was pretty specific and was really written for those who were gamers, using the specific lingo and jargon of that group of folks. Anyway, I renewed it through a junior high school magazine subscription fundraiser sale. Well, what I didn't know was that Ziff-Davis, the publisher of this magazine, had filed for bankruptcy in March 2008. I didn't receive any letter from them telling me so, they were still on the list of possible mags to subscribe to, and when I heard the name of the publishing company I certainly didn't associate it with EGM, even though most of their media mediums relate to technology. Gee, can't believe I missed remembering that 6 months later when I went to renew his magazine. (and if I roll my own eyes any more they're going to get stuck!)

So around last November Mac asks me why he hasn't gotten his mag and I did some investigating and realized they filed bankruptcy. I emailed the company and was basically told they didn't know what would happen to my subscription since they were in Chapter 11. I figured I was just out the $20, which sucks but- alas, what could I do really?

Then last week Mac calls me to say he got a replacement magazine for his EGM. I said something about that being cool. And he starts howling with laughter. He told me the magazine he received was Maxim magazine, sort of a guy's guide to women that is sort of a combination of a man version of Cosmopolitan and Playboy. This is the magazine a random publisher decided to send my 16 year old son in the mail without parental permission to replace a video game magazine. Hmmmmmmmmm...

Several things here: the cover stories for this month are "hot grill on grill action" (yeah, cute play on words... NOT!), "the rise of recession sex", "America's Best beaches", "Hometown Hotties", and there's a half naked celebrity woman on the cover. There are other features: sex advice, movie reviews, celebrity stuff, and one small section or article of video gaming information... the ads are mostly for alcohol and feature lots of scantily clad women who look physically enhanced and really really sexual.

FIRST I want so say loudly and clearly that while I am most certainly NOT the target audience, I believe in the 1st amendment that this can and should be published, there is an audience for this type of magazine, I do not think it should be banned... BUT BUT BUT- this is not really appropriate for MY child at THIS age right now. He can buy it when he's older and making his own choices. While we live in a society with enough social issues to float a battleship, I have enough problems as a single parenting mother teaching my son to respect women and not degrade them without having to do battle with a magazine in the house that, IN MY OPINION, seems to do the opposite. Yes, he is a boy who likes girls and boobs and is curious about sex and probably sees and hears worse on the Internet- I do get all that. But, this was foisted upon him, without anyone asking me as a parent if it was okay. Or even asking him if he wanted it. Some arbitrary company some how made the leap from a gaming magazine to a guy's magazine. This irritates me.

And while I try to be fair and cover all bases here at 'shoes/purses' I will say Mac told me there was a place he could send in a card to just get a refund rather than get the magazine. So we had an option AFTER the fact, but still an option.

So, Mac and I talked about it and one thing I LOVE LOVE LOVE about this kid is the head on his shoulders and his sense of humor- most of the time, and this is one of them. Head on his Shoulders: I told him all of my qualms and arguments and reasons why I was opposed. And he acknowledged what I said and felt, he didn't even try to argue the "I see worse on the 'net, or hear worse on the school bus mom" or anything. Mac said he got where I was coming from and he also knows the magazine was full of shit. He said he wasn't so weak that looking of pictures of booze in the ads made him want to run out and drink. He said he knew "real" women didn't look like the digitally enhanced triple DDDs in the magazines- or at least none that he's ever met yet (his words, not mine!). He said seeing these women weren't going to make him respect or disrespect women any more or less than he already did because it's just a magazine. Do I have a good kid or what? Besides, he informed me, he just wants to read it for the articles.

He's 16 years old and seems to, overall, have a a brain functioning somewhere other than in his pants, so I gave my permission to let Maxim come in the house.

Now Mac does have a sense of humor about this. He also couldn't help but crack up laughing over the whole thing. He said this company must not have a single clue about EGM target audience. Mac said most gamers are nerds, geeks, and loners who prefer games over people. He went on to further say that most geeky gamers are terrified of women and know they have a snowball's chance in hell of ever meeting women like those featured in Maxim- he said that "hell, even hot guys would be intimidated with these boobalicious babes" (okay he's 16 and aiming for the funny here...) let alone even needing the sex tips and advise sprinkled throughout the magazine. Mac said "most of us gamers are chubby, have acne, bad hair, are shy, no sense of style, no social skills... even ugly chicks don't want gamers- what the hell do guys like us need with Maxim magazine? Now, put a joy stick in their hands and have them playing some RPG naked, and we'd notice what game system they're playing. Naked would be secondary. Gamers around the country are probably scared to even read Maxim! Don't these publishers know anything? However, I'm cute and lovable- girls think I'm a Teddy Bear so I can handle it" and he gives me a wink and cracks himself up with laughter.

Raising a teenage boy to the maxim,
Maggie

Am so not Twitter-pated

I don't Twitter. Until this week I wasn't sure what Twitter actually was except I knew I didn't want to know what Ashton Kutcher had for breakfast- whoopee shit.

Twitter is a real time messaging tool for socializing; you can send these messages via email or BlackBerry (or other hand held devise similar to the CrackBerry). People can subscribe, like a blog, and get a message alert on their PDAs or in email or just at the Twitter web site. People can send messages up to 140 characters. So in theory, I could send a message that says "Just ate bacon and oatmeal for breakfast; drank 2 mch coffee". Then everyone who subscribes to my feed would get this message and can respond. Who in the Hell wants to know what I ate or that I'm driving to work or that I'm scooping too much ice cream? Who cares about that stuff?

But on the other hand, I blog and I'm amazed that people read me on a daily basis. I'm thrilled and happy that you do read me- I'm most certainly not complaining, but if people read my blog then people might want to read my Twitter. And here, I have about 50 people who read me with regularity, and back when I had a previous blog under a previous moniker before ThatBitch outed me to the entire town of Wild West and I had to shut it down, I was having about 1300 readers a day there. So... to Twitter or not to Twitter is the question. I guess I could send out a Twitter to get people's opinions...

Time Magazine had a huge story about Twitter. I don't really agree with the article- I don't think this will change how people think. I think it's a phase. I'm probably wrong, but I think it will be another pop culture phenomenon like the Rubik cube or pet rocks.

But I'm struggling because I haven't Twittered so I'm not sure I'm completely educated about whether I should be against it or not. Look, part of me wants to Twitter because I want to be part of a wave, a new craze, maybe something that is going to be a firm and solid part of our future. On the other hand, if it's a phase, I can live without it. I don't want to be just a band wagoner. I don't want to have one more thing to maintain. I don't even have a Faccebook because I don't want something else I feel like I have to check and write on every day (and fear of rejection and nasty comments left by mean people, and because I don't know how to do it are two other additional reasons for my lack of Facebooking.).

I started blogging a little more than three years ago, and I guess that was when blogging was at its peak, but I didn't know it. I started blogging because a Sam told me I had writing talent and I should do it- he showed me how to get going. It was only months later that I discovered I was doing something that was considered a new craze in technology. Will Twitter be the same thing? Will I miss being part of something that I'll end up doing in another year or two anyway?

I've tried to follow a few blogs that post Twitter threads all day and I just don't get it. And I don't care. I'm not down on people who Twitter- actually, I don't even know anyone who does Twitter. And I'm not anti- technology. I have a DVD player, a laptop, a cell phone which is a BlackBerry no less, and an mp3 player, specifically iTunes. And I like all these things. I like downloading music and listening to a streaming radio station. I like watching TV online, and I like blogging. BUT I am not about ALL things that are technology. I have no desire to own a Kindle, for example. I just like my books as paper. Another new wave of the future- I don't want to Facebook or MySpace. And finally, I don't want to Twitter.

But if any of you Twitter, please let me know. Explain it to me. Teach me. Make me knowledgeable. Tell me what I'm missing.

Not a Twitter-er,
Mags

Heard at the Ice cream parlor

Since the Dairy Queen Blizzard has made it possible to have ANYTHING on ice cream, blending soft serve vanilla with candy, cookies, fruit, and the like- I want to explain something briefly.

Here in the Midwest, Butter Pecan ice cream is as popular as vanilla, strawberry, chocolate and Rocky Road. It's not a vanilla ice cream with pecans on it Blizzard style, but an actual flavor of hard ice cream, sold in tub, that is a rich and creamy buttery vanilla ice cream with a hint of pecan taste as well as having HUGE chunks of pecans liberally throughout the container. Butter Pecan is such a popular flavor that here in the Midwest it's sold in gallon and half gallon containers in grocery stores like Marsh, IGA and Kroger. It's probably the most commonly sold flavor we sell at the parlor.

So all that being said, a guy comes in the ice cream parlor and orders a waffle cone with 2 dips of butter pecan ice cream. "And I want that with no pecans." I stare at him and then tell him the pecans are in the ice cream. And then he responds to me with:

"Well, duh, I know that. Just dip around them."

What a stupid fucker.

Another damn dream (or is it a nightmare?) with a different type of snake

Okay, here's another dream. I thought I'd just throw it out for more blog fodder. In this dream I'm living in Dublin.

I'm sitting in the bar called The Library Pub, a wonderful and quaint little pub in Dublin (it's a real bar, not just in my dream). I'm curled up in a corner, sitting on a couch, grading papers. I'm drinking a Bulmers Cider. I look good- my hair is longer again and to my shoulders. I have on textured tights (all the rage in Dublin), black knee boots, a short gray skirt, a white shirt with a black sweater vest. I look very teachery but sexy at the same time.

And then in walks AIISam... remember this is a dream, folks! And we have this conversation:

Sam- "Uhhhhh, Maggie? Maggie, is that really you? What are you doing HERE?"
Me- having a drink and marking papers. (barely looking up at him)
Sam- Is this a holiday? Wait... marking papers? (and he looks pretty confused, stunned, a bit pleased and just shocked) You're in Ireland! Why?
Me- Yes. (and I just stare at him expectantly)
Sam- why are you marking papers? What do you mean marking papers? (And he sits down, or more actually, sinks in shock, into a nearby chair)
Me- I'm a teacher and this is what we do.
Sam- you're teaching? here in Dublin?
Me- yes (and I smile coyly and down the rest of my drink)
Sam- how did that happen?
Me- Well, you remember the woman I met on the plane on the way to Milan who was a teacher? We exchanged info and she called me to say her school wanted to hire an American for a year and one thing led to another and here I am.
Sam- how long have you been in Dublin?
Me- Since mid July
Sam- (in a totally shocked, stunned and hurt voice) You've been here three and a half months and you've never called me? never contacted me? Nothing?
Me- (in a really shitty, cold voice) You are kidding, right? You made it completely clear that you wanted nothing to do with me- no emails, no calls. Hell, you didn't even let me know if you got the package I sent all those months ago like you promised. Do not even act like this affects you.

I then told him I needed to leave so I collected my stuff, said goodbye and I went into the backroom of the bar and hid in another chair. The waitress brought me another Bulmers and wouldn't take my money. Apparently Sam checked to see if I was really leaving. He walked over and said he was sorry. We had a bit of small talk about teaching and his job. He also asked if I was doing any traveling and I told him about several trips into the country and about visiting several blog friends throughout Great Britain, as well as going to Northern Ireland to see another blogger. He wanted to know how I found living in Dublin and that he couldn't believe we hadn't run into each other and he exclaimed:

Sam- I'm sorry. But you're here and if we lived in the same city, then we wouldn't have had to break up!
Me- I don't believe that.
Sam- I'm sorry. Can I buy you a drink? Would you like to get dinner? We can catch up.

And then I wake up. I'm not eating leftover Chinese food before I go to bed anymore.

These dreams go on when I close my eyes,
Maggie

Face Lift

I loved my old blog template, all the frills and pink and shoes and purses... but it was just not always practical. It was a simple 2 column template and I really needed more because I love putting stuff in the sidebar, but with only 2 columns- one of which was blog text- made it very long and rarely did anyone take the time to scroll down to see it all.

So I was telling my friend Hecate this, and lo and behold, the woman is fucking mir-ACLE worker- tickle me pink and call her Anne Sullivan- because she found a three column template still keeping with my shoes and purse theme. Not only is it zingy, but it's three columns, plus some extra! I have all that space in the sidebar, BUT I also have three columns across the bottom of my blog to put things! As Hecate says, it's like getting a brand new purse with all these wonderful little compartments! OMG - she is so right!

After she helped me operate on my blog, I mentioned how it would be completely perfect if the the sides could be pink rather than purple. And Miz Whiz Bang Super Genius that she is turned it pink for me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh.My. Goddess- it's completely perfect! Just adorable for this season!

Now, I'm working on adding all my widgets back, which is time consuming. I did the easy ones first. And I've re-arranged them, moved them around until I'm finding a blend that works. I like having my reviews at the bottom, and I'm going to add a photo slide show there, which should be fun, at least for me! So, I do promise to have all of your blogs added back and linked in the next several days.

So hang around, have a Cosmo, buy some shoes- hell, buy me some shoes- and keep reading and watching!

And a HUGE super thank you thank you thank you to Hecate for glamming me UP! You rock girlfriend! Whoot Whoot!

Kisses,
Mags

Party Time Grill!

Last night I fixed dinner for Mac and me and I used the George foreman Party Time Grill. Does anyone else have one of these?

I loved cooking on it- I used it the first time. I marinaded boneless chicken breasts in a honey teiryaki marinade for 24 hours. Then I grilled them on the Party Time grill; the chicken was awesome! I also fried some potatoes in garlic, butter and olive oil. And we had cornbread. (I love cornbread with milk and honey!) Mac thought the food rocked and I was impressed with my bad self and my mad cooking skills. And there was no open flame so the danger of burning down Daddy-O's house was lower than if I actually learned to use the outside grill- and it was cooler in the house and bug free, so it was a win-win for all!

The George Foreman Party Time Grill is awesome and easy to use and I really like it but cleaning it up sucks. I read the directions and checked the web site and it never says I can't stick it in the dishwasher but all the cleaning directions say to wash it by hand. If anyone has one and sticks it in the dishwasher, could you let me know?

The other thing that makes me laugh is reading the directions. There are recipes in the booklet and they don't just read "place chicken pieces on the grill" but "place chicken pieces on The Party Time Grill!". They included the exclamation point. I was fraught with laughter and every time from that moment on, after explaining the funny to Mac, we would both be obnoxious with saying "Party Time Grill!" in loud excited voices, complete with verbally punctuated exclamation points!!

So special thanks for Curley for giving me the Party Time Grill! We loved it! It was yummy! Thank you!

Let's get cookin'!
Maggie

Foiled!

This was supposed to be a post about a trip to the zoo. Yesterday Mac and I were going to the zoo. Yes, I was going to spend the day at the zoo with my 16 year old (not 6, but 16, that's not one of my many typos) son but that was foiled.

I woke up at 8am and fixed breakfast- toast, scrambled eggs and sausage links. I've learned that unless I want to spend a fortune I need to feed him at home where I can keep handing him food until he says he's full. So I did a dozen smokey links and had a whole loaf of bread and 10 extra eggs as back up. I also checked the weather before hand- and lo and behold, this was the only day this week that no rain was predicted so I thought we were in business.

I manage to get Mac out of bed when breakfast was almost done. He stumbled out of his rack and into the dining room. He ate a few bites and then said he was full. Wha?????? He's a teenage boy- they. do. not. get. full. ever. Even when he says he's full, he might only be for about 15 minutes then he could eat a small snack- a 12 oz steak with loaded baked potato, for example.

Come to find out he didn't feel good. First I was a tad suspicious that he might be milking the "I'm sick" thing because he didn't want to go to the zoo, but in reality, even though it lowered his cool factor, he was pretty excited about hanging with me for a day at the zoo. He was hoping to see monkeys fling poo- I swear that's what he told me. And I promised him dipping dots, the astronaut ice cream. So, what was this? He was sick? In June?

And he actually was sick. He said he would take a shower and be ready to go because he didn't want me to be sad about missing the zoo. I told him to not worry about it and we could go next week. He asked if I was mad and I said no and he made a mad dash to the bathroom. Apparently he ached all over and his tummy wasn't cooperating. The one bite of sausage was enough to send his stomach into spasms. And I'll spare you the specific details he shared with me upon his departure from the bathroom. I will tell you he suggested I call a HAZMAT team to attend to the bathroom...ewwwwwwwwwww!

So he went back to bed. I'm not kidding- this is a kid who only sleeps out of necessity. He'll stay up until he is physically no longer able to move anymore. So for Mac to voluntarily go back to bed, miss an outing and not eat, uttering apologies to me and bemoaning his aching body, headache, backache and tummy ache, means this kid was SICK, in all capital letters.

So, no trip to the zoo yesterday - we'll try again next week and maybe I can tell you about the monkeys flinging poo rather than Mac... well, you get the picture.

No monkey business,
Maggie

It know it's not brain surgery but...

There is an art to scooping ice cream. I know that sound utterly ridiculous but there is an art form to it.

All the ice cream sitting atop of the cones have to be the same size. And some ice cream scoops really nice and rolls into a nice tight scoop and others, when it's frozen solid, curls and flakes or chips. This is when scooping ice cream isn't really fun- and it hurts my hand and wrist. I'm going to need rotater cuff surgery because of the scoop motion.

Our ice cream parlor also sells old fashioned ice cream treats like dipped cones, limeades, flavored Cokes with syrup, and chocolate cream sodas. I'm still trying to master the dipped cone. It's soft serve ice cream dipped in chocolate. the trick is to dip the cold vanilla ice cream into the hot chocolate syrup without having it fall into the chocolate or having the chocolate run down the cone or my arm. I've lost more cones than I care to count when the ice cream plopped off into the chocolate dipping sauce. And when making cream sodas or root beer floats... geez, pouring carbonated syrupy soda water or Coke products over ice cream and keeping the foam ratio down is actually a challenge.

We also make milkshakes. Trying to get the right amount of ice cream to milk ratio is a pain in the ass and on more than one occasion I've ended up with a shake so thick you about need a knife and fork, or there's enough liquid that I spatter the entire thing all over my face, hair, glasses, shirt, etc. Logistically I always have too much of something or not enough of something in the shake process.

We have a version of the Dairy Queen blizzard called a frostbit and while that isn't a problem to make, I have, when mixing it up, I got the Styrofoam cup a little too close to the mixing wand and sliced and diced a cup. Once I even just poked a hole right in the bottom, spewing ice cream everywhere.

And making a soft serve cone is hard too, which sounds completely silly. Ya gotta twirl it just right without having it lean either way or making sure it's not to fat and hangs over the cone top. And still get it uniform in height to the correct large, medium and small sizes.

So, while this is a paycheck, it's fun, and I am not complaining, I have to admit, this ice cream thang is harder than it looks.

Life isn't just a soft serve cone,
Maggie

Missin' Philsgirl

I miss Philsgirl. She is the only reason I survived the last 2 years I lived in the Wild West and since I've been back I've really missed her. I have a good time hanging out with Hecate, Daddy-O and my family, and I adore spending time with Curley but I really miss Philsgirl.

Philsgirl is my polar opposite and some might argue that the only reason we became friends is because we were both transplants into the Wild West and hated living there. Well, maybe that was the case in the beginning; however, that small reason quickly dissipated after a few conversations when we learned we were both sarcastic, quick witted, a bit lazy, complete procrastinators, and lovers of cheese. Okay, the last bit is true and a bit weird, but important because we ate lots of nachos without compunction or TUMS.

Philsgirl and I are also different as night day and one might wonder how in the hell we became friends. She loves to camp and being dirty, touching bugs and other nasty creepy crawly creatures, is fearless, enjoys hunting and fishing, thinks peeing outside is vital to ones health, and could go for a week without a shower and not worry about it, especially if she's out in the woods or up in the mountains. She gets excited about seeing a bear in her backyard while I'm worried that the bear think of her as dinner. While she's miss nature girl, she's not a butchy tom boy- she's a cute, slim, short blond with bright green eyes. While I have zero interest in all those things she loves, she doesn't really think it's necessary to own 100+ pair of shoes, isn't really fond of make up, she owns 1 skirt (made of denim), a mall is not considered a jungle, and she doesn't like coffee.

She would make fun of me when she opened my freezer to find 4 kinds of ice cream, about 9 frozen pizzas, several bags of coffee beans, and a variety of toaster strudel pastries. I would make fun of her freezer when she could identify bags of scat to their animal excreters. She would harass me over the fact that I would color code my clothes hanging in my closet. I would harass her about her collection of animal skulls arrange in a curio cabinet according to size.

But we bonded over shared shifts at the cafe and then together as teachers at the high school in Wild West. We shared the same prep period and would bemoan the stupid students, their stupider parents, and our nasty fellow faculty members.

While we are different as night and day, we also found we loved to listen to each other and tease. We would make fun of each other's idiosyncrasies with chuckles in our voices and twinkles in our eyes or out right belly laughs. Our idiosyncrasies, while different, actually brought us together. We both hate the Wild West and most of the people there. We both loves to eat and celebrated Fat Girl Fridays. We loved to watch Sex and the City and drink margaritas. We both love to laugh and consider sarcasm as necessary as water.

Some of my best times in the Wild West can be attributed to time spend with Philsgirl. Road trips to Billings, Miles City and Ingomar, MT all came with huge laughs. She was there the first and only time I've EVER peed in an outhouse. We had Thanksgiving and birthdays together. We graded papers together, took walks, and hung out at each other's homes. We went to church dinners together. The first time I ever saw an owl was because of Philsgirl who is an owl lover- and it was like magic. We just sat in the car watching it watch us and listening to it hoot. We had drinking nights with her hubby and another teacher from school- the 4 of us would sit around and drink pomegranate martinis and eat until we were sick with laughter as well as the food and drink. Most of the time we spent together involved so much laughing that we about peed ourselves and would gasp for air.

I'm so happy to be away from the WIld West and I'm super duper excited that Philsgirl and her hubby finally got transferred out of there and into her beloved mountains on the other side of the Wild West state.

I miss her bunches! We still email and call but that's not the same. So something good did come out of living in the Wild West.

Sometimes you need a girlfriend,
Maggie

Scooping ice cream can be tit-illating for 17 year old boy

I worked at the ice cream parlor the other night and it seems there were boobs everywhere.

First a woman came in and she brought her little granddaughters who were about age 3. The woman was probably in her late forties or early 50s. She was very pretty and had kept herself in great shape. She was well dressed and in no way was she slutty looking or even dressed like a slut at all- she was wearing flip flops, denim Capri pants and a shirt that was a tank top, but rather loose fitting. She looked really nice. I was working with a 17 year old high school super jock boy who said she was hot for a woman her age and he thought she was a "GMILF" (for those of you unfamiliar with that acronym, it means "GrandMother I'd Like to Fuck") So apparently she was good looking. She ordered ice cream for her granddaughters and when I handed her the first cup, she bent forward to hand it to the child and her blouse gaped and revealed her boobs. Bare and naked boobs. No bra. And it wasn't just a peek but nope, the entire boob, nipple, areola, the works. I called to the 17 year old boy to finish the order, under the pretense I had to use the facilities. After they left, he came running up to me in the back room, all excited because that GMILF wasn't wearing a bra and he could see her tits- which were HAWT, according to him. See I can be a nice person- I think it made his day.

Until the next boobilicious babe walked in the the door.

She was a young girl who was very very pretty. I think she was barely 20 years old and had a nice body and long dark curly hair. And carrying a week old baby girl in a car seat. The 17 year old boy and I were standing at the counter when she came in and I saw his eyes do a double pop, almost like a cartoon character. He thought she was hot and when she flipped the long dark hair back, she reveal, barely covered in a tiny tank top, two HUGE boobs, that were spilling out the top and the sides of her tiny tank top. Huge amounts of cleavage and just boob were everywhere. The 17 year old Boy waited on her and practically slobbered all over her.

After she left, he was going on and on about how glorious her tits were and he couldn't believe tiny girl like that could have such big knockers and how hot she was, even though she had a week old baby. Well, the woman I was working with (she and I have both had kids) couldn't help but laugh at him. We finally told him she was still lactating. He gave us blank looks, not understanding. Finally the other woman said, "Kid, her boobs were full of milk which is why they are so big." You could see the light bulb click on and the look that spread across his face and his full body shiver accompanied the words out of his mouth, "Oh dude, that is so gross!"

She and I were so evil...

That angel and demon on my shoulders both win,
Mags

These snakes weren't on a plane...

I had a dream the other night. And it makes me wonder what in the world is going on in my subconscious.

In my dream, I'm asleep in my bed, in my attic room at Daddy-O's house and in my dream I feel something slither across me, on top of the covers. And not slither in a sexy way.

So in my dream, I wake up and jump out of bed. I'm standing next to the bed and there are HUGE snakes on the floor, looking like about 20 of them but probably just 2 but they are enormous and fat and just HUGE. These huge snakes are crawling and slithering around my legs. I stand motionless, listening to them slither and hiss at me and bare their fangs. I'm paralyzed with fear, with my heart pounding, face red, beads of sweat running down me, labored breathing, scared out of my mind. Then they slide under the bed and i jump on top of my bed. They sudden appear again, popping their heads over the side and I throw my white goose down duvet on top of them and I grab a garden hoe, that is for some bizarre reason (that can only happen in a dream of course) conveniently leaning against the bedroom wall, and hack them to death while they are trapped under the blanket.

When I'm done I hear Mac and his friend Ryan laughing (in Real life, in non dream life, that is- I have never even met Ryan but Mac tells me horrendous stories about the shit this kid does and it makes me, in the real awake world, cringe that Mac chills out occasionally with this kid). I guess Ryan had caught the snakes and they deiced to mess with me and set them loose. I called the police and had both boys arrested.

The cops came and took the boys and I was sitting there waiting for animal control to come and take the snake remains when the duvet started twitching.

Then I woke up. I woke from this dream at 4:51 am and have been awake since then.

Agreein' with Indiana Jones,
Mags

World's Larget Rummage Sale 2009

Whew- it's over! It took weeks and weeks to get this thing together and in two days it's done... sort of like taking hours to prepare a fancy meal that everyone has consumed in 25 minutes or spending months Christmas shopping to have gifts torn open in 10 minutes.

But it's over and done with and I'm nearly $500 richer. Curley and her son's made some moola- as did Daddy-o so all and all it was worth it.

Even when we were done this afternoon, Curley's Hubby came into town and helped us pack all the left overs into boxes and then donated it to the local mission (think a local version of Goodwill). So I think it was a win-win situation for everyone!

Curley and I laughed lots and had lots of time to gab. She saw lots of people she knew and I just tried to hide when I saw people I might know!

We were sorry Daddy-O wasn't in town for the big event but we managed without him. Now I'll be spending the next week putting the garage back into some sort of order so he can at least park in there again!

I'm not usually a person who goes to rummage sales myself as a ritual, but I like to go and poke around. I might find a buy or two here or there. Curley is really good at rummaging and getting good prices and knowing what the good buy is so she was my "go to" woman this weekend, no pricing and negotiating. Thank you Curley for helping me and keeping me company and just hanging out with me and EVERYTHING! *Kisses and smooches*

I was surprised at some things that didn't sell, and we did run an ad in the local newspaper, which is like a rummage saler's weekend Bible and survival guide. My 6ft tall Christmas tree in it's original box didn't sell- no it's not pre-lite and I was only asking $20 OBO- and it's a beautiful tree. One person made me about pee my pants when she looked at it, which was in pieces in the box, and asked me, "Is it artificial?" Need I say more?

We also had a bunch of white unpainted ceramic Christmas village pieces- none of those sold. They're the kind that doesn't have to be fired in a kiln, just painted and sprayed. No one bought a danged piece of it.

We did keep the tree and the village pieces so if any of you...?

It's funny to be what does sell- Granny's who don't have DVD players loved all the Disney VHS video tapes. Little girls want old makeup and baby dolls. MY old Barbie furniture sold. This stuff is 30 years old and people just snapped it up. I sold a set of dishes. A piece of 4 ft long coax cable sold. The infamous Barry Manilow cassette tape, all my wicker baskets, jewelery, pots and pans, a pellet shotgun style gun-- all sorts of things sold.

I love watching people go to rummage sales. There are those who walk through quickly, obviously looking for something specific. There are the browsers. There are those people who are the rummage salers who are out for blood- they come early, have the newspaper Bible in hand, will negotiate on the first day, demand sacks and always have small bills and change. There are the women who come in a group and it's obviously just something to do while they socialize. There are those Indecisive rummage salers who pick it up and put it down and have to carry something around and touch it all, before making a bit purchase. (I would hate to see these people in a "real" store if trying to decide to spend a quarter for a picture fram still in it's store wrapping is a tough choice) There was a little old man who was trying to get me to lower prices on everything and then trying to shame me for no budging. Take the cool for example. it was an igloo cooler, on wheels, with a pull handle and a carry handle. It's in perfect condition- no dents, mildew, mold, no anything. We just have about 194 coolers so we sold this one. For $3. It looked practically new- hell it might've only been used once after an unplanned visit to Sam's Club and lots of cold things were bought and needed protection- that's how we seem to acquire lots of our coolers around here. Anyway, this guy wanted to know if I would take a buck. Hello, buddy, this is a rummage sale I realize, but you're already getting a$10 cooler for $3 and it looks like new so back off.

We did the rummage sale for 2 days and yesterday was furniture day. We sold it all and we sold it early. I could've sold my book case 10 times over and the wicker patio furniture at least that. Not one soul said a word about it today, thank the goddess since it was sold, but! All day yesterday people would show up, look around and ask "did you sell the wicker?" Well, do you see it anywhere? Duh- it's gone and then they would try and peer into the back yard or garage to see if there was more, like I would lie? At one point one woman was pointing at everything in Daddy-O's yard, wanting to know if it was for sale- hell, I could've sold her the whole house, I think.

So the sale is over. Whew. I'm glad I did it, though. And now I can clean the garage and call it a day. Well, maybe I'll call it a day tomorrow. Or Tuesday. Or sometimes next week. But I have to get it done by next Saturday since a small town a few miles over is having a town wide sale. I need to find room to put more, er, ah, my stuff...!

Rummaging around,
Maggie

Mac is right in a "wrong" way

I was going to write a big disclaimer about a words Mac used today prior to telling the following story but you know what? Instead I'm going to hope readers know by now, as an educator, certain words are never used in my vocab, that teen boys are just teen boys, and that Mac is actually a nice, polite kind kid, even when he sometimes gets lippy. So that's your preface and if offends... then I apologize. (I'm having a Denis Leary sick of apologizing for everything even when the funny is wrong, but still funny or ironic...)

I had the first day of the World's Largest Rummage sale today, which actually went rather well. Mac, for $20, agreed to get up at 6:30 am to help me haul tables, set out stuff, carry heavy furniture, clean, wipe stuff, and just generally do all the crappy work to help Curley and me out. And he did it with a smile, a sense of humor, and with enthusiasm and without complaint.

As he's carrying out a table he looks down and sees a cassette tape of Barry Manilow's Greatest Hits, marked for 50 cents. Mac, who respects all music but LOVES LOVES LOVES classic rock and true blues, says I should have to pay someone 50 cents to take it or $50 even, instead of the reverse. He also said only weirdos or gay guys or "retards" would buy Barry Manilow and I should just throw it in the trash. I gave him a dirty look about his language, he said, "sorry, just kidding." But we laughed and we joked and went on.

The sale starts and Mac goes in the house.

A lady and her son show up. I have no idea what the lady buys but the boy gets the cassette tape.

Later, Mac asked me if the Barry Manilow tape sold and I said yeah. I waited for it and then decided to tell Mac before letting him put his foot and mouth- I told him a mother bought it for her teenage son- Mac's mouth opens, ready to spout some witty sarcastic teenage axiom and I rush ahead and tell him that the teenage boy was severely mentally handicapped.

Dead silence.

Mac didn't crack a smile or say a word. But I know what he was thinking... because that boy knows better than to ever say "I told you so."

Trying to raise a politically correct teenager in a politically incorrect world,
Maggie

What a girl feels -vs- what a girl wants...

Ack!!! This is what happens when I watch too many movies after drinking too much wine after working on the World's Largest Rummage sale shit all day long after getting all hot and sweaty... And because my feet hurt. Okay, so that has nothing to do with anything, but they do hurt...

FEELS:

"For me it's better I don't romanticize things as much anymore. I was suffering so much all the time. I still have lots of dreams, but they're not in regard to my love life. It doesn't make me sad, it's just the way it is... I can't deal with the day to day life of a relationship. Yeah, [he and I] have, you know, this exciting time together and then he leaves and I miss him, but at least I'm not dying inside... Even being alone it's better than sitting next to a lover and feeling lonely. It's not so easy for me to be a romantic. You start off that way, and, after you've been screwed over a few times, you, you forget about all your delusional ideas, and you just take what comes into your life. God, I'm sorry, is it, is it really that bad? It's not, right?...

"[He] reminded me how... genuinely romantic I was, how I had so much hope in things and now it's like I don't believe in anything that relates to love, I don't feel things for people anymore. In a way, I put all my romanticism into that one [man] and I was never able to feel all this again. Like somehow this [man] took things away from me and I expressed them to [him] and [he] took them! It made me feel cold, like love wasn't for me!... You know, I guess I've been heart broken too many times. And then recovered. So now, you know, from the start, I make no effort." ~ Celine, Before Sunset

WANTS:
I want a man who wants to kiss me, who thinks about kissing me while he's at work and when he finally does get to kiss me, he's smiling when he pulls away from me. I want a man who can make me laugh, who will spoon me at night and wake in the middle of it to make love. I want a man who doesn't care that I like to wear a sleep mask to bed at night that looks like Holly Golighty's or that's pink silk with the word 'princess' in black sequins or one that's pink foam. I want a man who thinks my quirks are cute and charming. I want a man who's happy to see me or smiles when I walk into a room. I want a man who doesn't fuss that I want to eat a piece of chocolate before I go to sleep while lying in bed, or who will indulge my silly whims. I want a man who thinks I'm sexy and playful and will play board games with me. I want a man who hates country music, and loves to sing karaoke, a man who isn't afraid to be silly and will fly by the seat of his pants like me. I want a man who will simply hand me a tissue when he walks into the room and finds me sobbing over an old movie I've watched hundreds of times, who won't say a word about my shoe obsession, and who will discuss/ debate politics with me, who likes to read and wants to help me fix dinner and then sit down together to eat it and laugh and talk. I want him to watch Breakfast at Tiffany's with me and be willing to HAVE breakfast at Tiffany's with me- and "get" the point and who understands that I also get the mean reads like Holly. I want a man who would spend a rainy day in bed with me talking and having sex and napping the whole time, even maybe missing work to do this. I want a man who understands the importance of reading the Sunday NY Times in bed over bagels and coffee while listening to NPR. I want a man who understands the importance of reading the Washington Post even though I live in the Midwest. I want a man who won't make fun that I like the change the bed sheets twice a week or who will go with me to Hobby Lobby and not complain. I want a man who I can make laugh. I want him to place his hand on the small of my back to lead me through a door or to hold my hand when we go to the movies or go for a walk. I want him to like spending hours and hours in old bookstores and drinking Starbucks coffee and is willing to eat lots of butter on a big tub of popcorn and who's willing to see a movie every week and not complain of the abhorrent prices, and who would just love me." ~ Maggie

Michael J Fox- Always Looking Up

Oh.My.Goddess. And warning... this post may ramble... and have split infinitives.

Okay, I know I have a book blog where I keep a list of books I've read this year (to date 56) and I've tried to refrain from posting book reviews here on "shoes/purses" because not everyone is the bibliophile I am, but... there's always a BUT.

I'm listening to the new Michael J. Fox memoir Always Looking Up and it is incredible. First I want to say that everyone should do this. And as an English teacher at heart, I canNOT believe I'm going to say this, but you must must must LISTEN to it on audio rather than read the paper version. There, I said it. Hang on, I need to chug some of my Cosmo before I continue...

Yes, you must listen to it on audio rather than read it- buy it, check it out from your local library, iTunes it, whatever, but I first say listen to it on audio. Fox himself reads this memoir and that adds to its incredible-ness, I think. And I know I rant and rave about the evils of audio books and that yes, I am experimenting with the concept myself this year- and Fox's book makes it all WORTHWHILE!!!!!!!!!

This is inspirational, funny and charming. It's real. The focus is on his family, faith, work and politics. He talks about his Parkinson's in a real way, matter of factual. He's strong and his story is moving. He's human. Since he was 17 years old he's been in Hollywood and when he talks of his friends and family, they are Hollywood people. He does name drop but not to emphasize his importance as a Hollywood player, but because that is the life he's lived. And he looks at his experiences that fame has allowed him and is still humbled by many of them. He has his own heroes- Lance Armstrong, Christopher Reeves and Muhammad Ali, to name a few.

He started a PD foundation and the goal is/ was to not be an endowment, but to spend every damn dime to cure PD. That's it- he makes no claims to be a scientist or an expert or anything as such, but he wants to have a cure and that's the goal and purpose of his foundation, which I think is amazing.

I'm only about a third of the way through the book, but I want to say how moved I am, how touched I am. I've been a fan of Fox since I was a kid. No, I didn't have a TV crush on him, but I just liked to watch him on screen. Even though he was the annoying Alex P. Keaton in Family Ties and I didn't like his character, I still liked watching him on screen but as a kid I never knew why. I've admired his career, the twists and turns it's taken through TV and film and back and forth. And I cried when I found out about his PD. I read his first book Lucky Man, and have since followed his career with a more keen eye- I admire his jump into politics and for taking the bull by the horns to fight for a cure to a disease that affects him, as well as millions of others. He doesn't use his fame as a bully pulpit but he does tell it like it is.

So, listen to him read his book. There is something special, the lilt, the uncanny ability to strike the right chord, the tonality that conveys more than just words or a message, the sounds of the pages turning as he reads, the crackle in the voice or the rushed speech- it's real. BUT, and there's always a but... there's a spirit of a lucky man who is Always Looking Up.

8 is enough... or is it? A meme!

Thanks to Ty-Anna for tagging me for this fun meme!

THE RULES: Mention who tagged you. Complete the list of 8’s. Tag 8 other people.

8 THINGS I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO:

1. Finding a full time job
   
2. taking Mac to Chicago this summer for a few days
   
3. meeting ItalianSam for dinner in a few weeks when he's in Civilization on business (after my horrid haircut has grown out some)
   
4. having enough money after the garage sale to get a pedicure
   
5. my Verizon contract ending on my Crackberry (it's 1 year and 6 months away, but who's counting?)
   
6. getting my world's largest rummage sale done and over with
   
7. winning the lottery and spending the money and giving some away
   
8. belly dancing
   

8 THINGS I DID YESTERDAY:

1. Worked at ice cream parlor
   
2. went to the public library and the LibrarySam didn't even say hi...!
   
3. hung out with Mac
   
4. returned movies to the video store (visit my movie blog here!)
   
5. took a shower at midnight to get rid of the ice cream residue from an exploding peanut butter milkshake- in my hair, clothes, ears, nose... so very gross!
   
6. Read blogs and started a new book
   
7. watched The Secret Life of Bees
   
8. Answered emails
   

8 THINGS I WISH I COULD DO:

1. find a full time job
   
2. Buy Mac a car and a guitar
   
3. Lose weight effortlessly, or at least be able to have will power to eat right and exercise- stress and scooping ice cream sure don't help
   
4. make Daddy-O not be sad
   
5. play the guitar and sing with perfect pitch and learn to ballroom dance
   
6. run a bed and breakfast
   
7. drive a stick shift and be British (either at the same time, or separately)
   
8. Marry AlaskaSam and have his babies
   

8 SHOWS I WATCH:

1. Numbers
   
2. Without a Trace
   
3. NCIS
   
4. Cold Case
   
5. Law and Order: SVU
   
6. Law and Order: CI
   
7. Grey's Anatomy
   
8. Sex and the City reruns
   

8 FAVORITE FOODS:

1. steak
   
2. pasta
   
3. pastry
   
4. shrimp (love them any way, especially on po'boys)
   
5. cheese
   
6. Krispy Kremes
   
7. pizza
   
8. bacon
   

8 PLACES I’D LIKE TO TRAVEL:

1. All of England (All of Great Britain, actually!)
   
2. California to see Jas, Jewels and Alibop
   
3. Paris
   
4. Alaska
   
5. Savannah, Georgia
   
6. Ireland (again)
   
7. Casablanca
   
8. Italy (all over this time, rather than just Milan)
   

8 PEOPLE I’VE TAGGED: (and of course, this is optional! No worries if you don't want to do it! If you do, leave me a comment here please so I can come check it out!)

1. Jimmie Earl
2. Bragger (I can't remember if you said you hate these things or not! If so, sorry and skip it!)
3. Farrago
4. Prodigal Tourist
5. Shoe Goddess
6. Tense Teacher
7. American Honey
8. Anyone else who wants to be tagged!

The Raspberry Post

I'm blowing huge raspberries to the following!!!!

• To Lily Pulitzer for not having plus sized clothes
• To people who are rotten to the core toward tele-marketers
• To a woman in Alaska who's married to my husband... hey, I'm just sayin'!
  
• To Verizon Wireless for their super sucky service and my Crackberry never working and they won't fix it. Does everyone else with this piece of shit device have to take the battery out and reset it 3 or 4 times a day to make it work?
• To my ex-husband the Sperm Donor Asshat- oh he hasn't done anything of late but I still hate him and don't want to miss an opportunity to point that out
  
• To the bitch who cut my hair. There's cute pixie then there's a Marine high and tight- and I am now going to have to wear a hat or a head scarf for the next 3 weeks- it's either look like a fat Marine or a cancer patient. I'm not making fun of cancer patient, swear to God, but that's what I look like in hats now.
• To AII Sam. I know, I haven't heard from him since it ended but I'm just pissy right now and wish I was in Europe, and I'm irritated about men.
• To Grey Goose for being so expensive because I really would like a bottle of it right now.
• To one of the wacko partners who is a part owner of the ice cream shoppe who came back to work and caused me to get my hours cut...
  

The Whoot-Whoot Post

BIG, loud Whoot-Whoots to all of the following!

• To Hecate for surviving surgery like a champ and for getting all better, even though it's a slow process!
• To Philsgirl for finally getting the hell out of the Wild West and moving to a place in her beloved mountains, building her new house and just generally being happy with life again!
• To Daddy-O for getting on a plane and flying across the country even though it scares him!
• To all my teaching friends in real life, and in bloggerville, for surviving yet another school year!
• To my best girlfriend Curley for putting up with me- that's a feat in and of its self, and for all her marvelous help yesterday! Thank you with big wet kisses! And for all the laughs... I think the woman we sacred at Wally World is scarred for life!
  
• To Mac for staying on top of the lawn mowing- looking great and not so much "Jurassic Park" anymore!
• To all the people who are followers of my blog- now, that is sooooo cool- thank you! (And to those who aren't followers *sniff, sniff* but read me anyway *sniff sniff* What's wrong with you people? Why aren't you following? *sniff sniff* I'm not giving you a Cosmo! So there- pffffffffffffttttttttttttttt! Oh you know I love ya all, whether you follow or not...)
• To the local video store for the special prices on new releases allowing me to see about 9 movies in the last 2 days for less than $10! (and review them all at my movie blog...)
  
• To all the people who comment on my blog- thank you! I'm such a comment whore and love love love to get them! (as long as they aren't mean comments, that is...)
• To Wally World for having herb seeds and potted herbs on sale, really cheap!
• To birthday cake or wedding cake, even when it's not my birthday and I'm certainly not getting married... but I love the cake any old time
  
• To the person who signed up 4 cars, a farm, a life policy, an antique car and umbrella policy all because of my telemarketing call.... Maybe I won't get fired after all!
  
• To everyone who is playing along with the "caption this photo" on my photo blog.
• To peasant blouses, long necklaces, scarves....
• To Nelson's Port A Pit BBQ chicken- OMG, it's to die for! (If you live in the Midwest and the states that surround Civilization, you've heard of it!) I've craved it for three years...
  
• To sunny days that I thought would never come after the long hard winter
• To my new sleep mask. Sleep, a blessed sleep...
  

Dream a little dream of a B and B

I've been thinking about running a bed and breakfast for some time now. Please note I said run a B and B, not own. Lots of people, though, buy a B&B to run themselves, not to hire out a person to do it for them. And, well, I've never run a B&B so I'm not sure anyone out of the blue would just hire me to take on such an adventure- even though I know it's something I am more than capable of doing.

But lately it's brewing and simmering around in my head. Here in my hometown a beautiful bed and breakfast is for sale. It's been fully restored. It has 5 guest rooms with private baths, along with a living area, a dining room and a private apartment. Not to mention the 2 car garage, the fenced in back yard, the patio and hot tub and other things.

This place is gorgeous. It's in my childhood neighborhood, right next door to the house I grew up in, as a matter of fact. But it's a mightily wonderful house, a warm butter yellow, with white trim, lots of windows, a nice yard... and it would be perfect for me.

I can cook, contrary to the previous posts. I can bake, and I can clean. I could stay in the private apartment as my living quarters. I could do it. I know I could. I've read and read and read all about bed and breakfasts and running. I've looked at books and online. I've spoken to people who own them. I really think it's something I could do. I have ZERO financial ability to buy it myself, but I really think it would be an ideal job for me. I could create in the kitchen and have minimal socialization with others,. I could do this and write. It would be grand, a grand arrangement for me.

And with this particular home, I have two other ideas of things I would like to add to the bed and breakfast. There's a small room with a private entrance that could be a small used bookstores, just one room. I could call it the Book Nook, just a small corner room of the lower level of the home. I could have it open each day and just keep the books contained to the one room.

Another idea I have is to do high tea. Oh, scoff if you want and blame it on me wanting to be British if you must, but really, and guffaw that high tea would never work in a small Midwest town but you would be surprised. I would have high tea Monday thru Friday. I could cater to the ladies who lunch or do birthday parties for little girls. We have lots of rich bored housewives who would make it their new "in" thing to do. Book clubs could meet and have high tea when their featured author is British, the setting is British, or just any damn time they wanted! I could offer it as part of the service for guests, of course, but it could be open to the public for high tea. I would work the backyard into lovely gardens to sit and read or enjoy the quiet.

There are no other bed and breakfasts in my town so I would be the only one- the competition would be 2 chain hotels. I have marketing ideas to promote the shit out of a bed and breakfast. This town has a beautiful performing arts center so I could cater to the performers, business men, and tourists. This town does actually get tourists and visitors because of the historical aspect.

I even have an idea for a name. Since I have a fascination with England and Ireland and the bed and breakfast in question is located on the top pf a hill, well, I would love to call it after the wild English/ Scottish flower called 'Heather on the Hill.' Perfectly reasonable, especially if you know me.

Again, I think I would be the perfect hostess, the perfect proprietress, and it would suit me. I really want, want WANT to do this! I so want to do it. But... If only I had the money... if only... if only...

Sometimes it's all about the if onlys and the dreams,
Maggie

God Save the Queen, the Prodigal Tourist, and Me

I want to be British. I think I would be good at it. British or Irish-- I bet there some of really bad rule I violate saying I could be either...

I love the accent but I realize with my mealy-mouthed Midwestern add a little Wild West in there I could never copy it without sounding like Eliza Dolittle pre-Henry Higgins caught in a blender under water. However, I do so like the sound of it, the lilt of it. Unlike most American accents, I think a British accent sounds smart. I think potential employers would find me rather brilliant and throw jobs at me if I sounded British because us Americans are fascinated by the accent, and then I would no longer be scooping ice cream.

And I love the words- boot, brolly, constable, bloody, git, biscuit, crisps, cuppa, a pint, teley, the loo, lift.... that's charming and fun and downright adorable. Yeah, I know in England and Ireland that would just be normal, but to my ears it sounds right charming. I loved it when I was in Ireland and folks would use those words- like a cab driver said he would stow my bags in the boot.

Life would be all Mary Poppins and Love Actually and Notting Hill if I were British, right? Okay, I could never be a nanny because I don't like kids, and I'm afraid of heights so I know the flying around the streets of London by my brolly would be me sick. And I'm guessing chimney sweeps don't really sing and dance on the rooftops, but it is a lovely thought. And aren't all English gents just shy and charming and disarming in that "aw shucks" Huge Grant sort of way? Oh, maybe that means I wouldn't be single?!

And I think it's much classier to have a Prime Minister than a President. I LOVE President Obama but I think having a Prime Minister sounds very classy. And they had a woman running their country long before the states ("that saucy minx", as Grant called her in Love Actually, Prime Minister Margret Thatcher!) so it just proves the Brits are much more politically advanced. (Okay, though, do they still wear the white wigs in Parliament?) And they have a QUEEN! Oh she doesn't do much but look prissy but she has that queenly wave. Hey, they can have a modernized government AND a Queen- now, how cool is that? And we all know my feelings about Princess Di. I. adore.her. And England was her home- another plus.

High tea. I'm all about having tea and cookies and cakes and little sandwiches every day. I love food. I love tea. This is a perfectly fabulous idea and I have no idea why Americans have to be so bloody obstinate about tea time- I think we could let bygones be bygones about the whole tea tax and Boston Tea Party- after all, it's just tea under the bridge now, right? (Oh, and most certainly the pun was intended!) I think there is nothing wrong with a spot of tea and scones with clotted cream and jam- oh yum....

An aside- and whilst we speak of all things England and pause for tea- you must visit The Prodigal Tourist's blog. He's giving away tea for his birthday! And I want to wish him a HUGE happy Birthday, and I would sing you, PT, the Marylin Monroe version of "Happy Birthday" but that's not very British so as the Fab Four says "Today is your birthday...lalalalalala" !

And I want to say I love the shoes. Well, you know me and I love shoes everywhere, but I really love... shoes I can't get here but blogger Rose seems to find these stunning shoes that I covet! all the time. Either I love British shoes or I need Rose to come across the Pond and take me shoe shopping... but Rose is British as well, so I think I love British shoes. There is logic here; if you can't see it, have some more tea, or another pint- or hell, have a Cosmo!

Speaking of pints, I just love Bulmers Cider. It cannot be bought in the US of A, either. I love going into a pub (not a bar, which sounds so trashy) and ordering a pint of Bulmers. I hunted around and there is a beer by the name of Bulmers in the States, but it's a beer. The Bulmer's company makes a cider under a different name but since I live in a small section of the Midwest, I can't get it. So I should be British in Great Britain to satisfy and quench my thirst on a regular basis.

And there are castles everywhere all over England and Ireland. Every time you turn around there's another bloody castle. I think that is awesome! I so want a castle. The countryside is lush. I've been to Dublin and am in love with the large yet quaint city. I've never been to London (grrrrrrrrrr damn that AIISam, the bloody git!) but it looks like an amazing city, flaws and all. Hey they have London Bridge, the Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, Double Decker buses, red phone booths, and the country is the birthplace of the BEATLES and Princess Di. Duh- what a great place! Think of the art! The Thames! The cobblestones! Maybe I could become an English Duchess like Audry Hepburn and Elton John!!!!!!!

Okay, okay.... I know I can't be British, and I swear I'm not making fun- I do absolutely LOVE all those things about Great Britain. I love reading my Irish and Brit authors and finding things to love about these countries. I've always wanted to go. The history of the country is fascinating and I, like many Americans, have always wanted to go to England and have a romanticized notion. And my smart, educated, intellectual side KNOWS this, but today, it just seems like something lovely to fancy. Tomorrow I may wake up and want to be a southern belle, or a senorita living in isolation as a mystery gringra in a casa by the sea in Mexico, or the wife of an Irish- American policeman in Boston... I could be anything, tomorrow. Maybe I'm just having a melancholy day where I would like to be anyone but me, or maybe I'm ticked off because I was supposed to be in England this summer and now I am NOT, or maybe it just seems like it would be good to run away and start over and why not try somewhere completely different than what I'm used to, even though it didn't work last time?

Pip-pip, cheerio, God Save the Queen, and all that rot,
Maggie

YMCA

Recently our town has just built and opened a brand new YMCA facility, a multimillion dollar project with top of the line facilities. The building has the best of the best of everything from weight equipment to personal child care monitoring to a lush indoor pool, just to name a few. The programs are varied with choices from the youngest person in a "mommy and me" class to senior citizen water aerobics. There is something for everyone. Well, it seems there is something there for everyone who has money.

And I want to preface this post that this is not sour apples because I can't afford the membership fees. This runs a little deeper, and as a former social worker, I have issue with what is going on, as I hope you can tell from the rest of my post.

Again, this is a day to learn something here at "shoes/purses" rather than me just sitting here looking pretty- I'm going to educate and get on my high horse at the same time! I live in the second poorest county in my state that has the third highest unemployment rate in our state, and this information can be found at our state government's website. What I want to know is that if this county is so poor and we have so many people out of work, why is a family membership to the YMCA $708 a year (which is lower if you can pay in cash upfront for the whole year) plus the one time fee of $75, which breaks down to $59 a month? In a community where people are struggling to put food on the table, are using public transportation 60% more than last year because of the increased cost of gas, the food panties have seen an 80 % increase- why do we have a YMCA that would think of charging astronomical fees? (Our local newspaper recently ran an article with the stats about out city's need). On a personal note, my sister-in-;law works for a mental health facility and she says that the case managers there are seeing a doubling in client case load just in the last year.

I went to our local Y's web site and I've poured over the slick mailings I get and yes, they do have scholarships, but they are "limited." The mission of the YMCA says:

To put Christian principles into practice through programs that build healthy spirit, mind and body for all.

Please notice the "for all" in this that mission statement. FOR ALL should mean all, not just "for all those who can afford it." If a person visits the national YMCA web site and reads through the history, readers will find that since this program started in London in 1844 to now, the Y had grown and changed and evolved to meet the every growing changes with societal norms, offering programs to people of all race, gender, creed, and religion. They helped with healthy body and healthy mind. They provided educational programs when needed. Through it all, the Y has continually catered its programs for those in need.

I want to know how these programs are going to reach those who need it? I'm sick of people saying that with this new building "we want it to stay new so prices need to reflect the sort of people who will respect that". I have heard this repeatedly. And I think it's abhorrent. Others say that the T isn't a baby sitting service and that people will just dump their kids off. Oh, and I like that I heard someone say 'we need to keep the riffraff out." I'm sick to my stomach and appalled when I hear things like this. And to be honest, I have no idea is these people who say these things are those folks who are YMCA members or board members or employees or just townies shooting off their obnoxious mouths.

I live in a county whose population is about 35,000 according to the last US census. Of this population, 7,170 are children under age 17. 13.9% of children in my county live in poverty, the highest rate in the last five years. And 27.2% of children in my county receive public assistance- government public assistance. (data taken from the Kids Count Data book, 2008) With numbers like these, HOW can this brand new YMCA, who is supposed to provide FOR ALL charge these prices??????

My brother has banned the Y on his personal principles. My sister-in-law got herself and my niece a membership. And me, well as for me...I'm too poor to join.... I guess I'm the riffraff they want to keep out.

I wouldn't want to belong to a club that would have me as a member,
Maggie

Tales from Maggie's Kitchen in 2 parts- Part 2

I'm continuing my days of yore cooking stories,. gather round all ye children and be afraid, very afraid for someday, Miz Magz may actually cook for you!

Story A- Where's a good bakery when you need one?
The chicken was in flames. The pizza was toast. All within one week. For some stupid fucking reason that only the gods of hell would understand, I get some wild hare brained scheme to bake an apple pie. From scratch. I have no idea what I was thinking- maybe that I hadn't experienced enough Kitchen Torture yet? But yeah, I decided to make a homemade apple pie. In the same week that I burned a chicken and a pizza to the point of needing fire extinguisher refills, not once, BUT twice. So oh yes, I should be baking, by all means... NOT!

I would like to see a show of hands from all of you who know there were certain apples you cook with and certain ones you bake with and certain ones you ate raw and certain ones you DID NOT FUCKING EVER WANT TO PUT IN A PIE??? Those of you with your hands up suck. Yeah, you know what is coming. You know. I was 25 years old and had never made a pie in my life. Cut me some slack, please.

I got my cookbook out and made a crust. From scratch. It was very...doughy. And there was lots of flour every where. And I guess there is a reason some recipes say baking soda and other say baking powder- there is a difference. But I managed to not get that right. Then came the apple part. I was really tired from making the dough and shopping. So, I cored the apples and chopped them up and threw them in the pie shell. I tried to make the dough strips on the top, like lattice work, but it looked bad so I just decided to bake it without- think of an open faced pie.

Okay, lots of things are wrong here as I am sure you are figuring. I, um, forgot, to peel the apples. I cored them but I forgot the peeling part. I know it said it in the cookbook, but I think I just overlooked that part. And, as aforementioned apples, I didn't buy the right ones to cook with. Oh no, I ended up with the TARTEST apples in the WORLD. And one tiny minor detail- I forgot the sugar. Oh please, like none of you have ever forgotten any ingredient when cooking before? I'm sure you're thinking this isn't a big deal because it probably went up in flames anyway, right? Well, sort of....... um ............. not exactly.

See the pie bubbled over- pie juice from the apples that I must have left sort of wet from rinsing - and I managed to save it from being blasted with the fire extinguisher that I had to use again. But a potholder stuck to the bottom of the pie pan, so it went into the oven, and then fell to the bottom of the oven and caught fire so I yanked the pie out of the oven and sprayed the pot holder lying on the bottom. Yep, flames. Not big ones, but flames nonetheless. The pie looked okay otherwise. So I have a flaming ovenmit and a saved pie and another damn fire extinguisher to refill. And 4 year old Mac singing, "we're goin' to Pizza Hut, we're going to Pizza Hut..."

So, a guy, a date sort of guy, came over after dinner and Mac and I serve the pie. I am all proud. I even managed to get the smell of singed and smoked ovenmit out of the house. The pie looked fine, but tasted horrible. The guy actually spit his bite back onto the plate. So did I. So did Mac. Mac actually uttered , "Mommy, this doesn't taste like the ones we get at McDonald's." Oh and it was the last date with that guy.

The next day I just went to the fire station and I think they were afraid to laugh. I said one word: "pie." They just filled the sucker up, handed it to me and let me leave. I swear the strained sounds of muffled cackling laughter so did not waft in the air behind me.

Story B- I Swear I have nothing against chickens!

I was making hard boiled eggs, or trying to make them. I brought the water to a rolling boil, then gently dropped in the eggs. And they would explode and pop. And splatter all over the stove, me, the exhaust overhang thingy. I do this to an entire dozen eggs. Each one explodes. I have scrambled egg looking goo floating in the water and all over the place. I am pissed. I call my mother and the conversation is something like this:

me: I got defective eggs at the store. An entire dozen. I am so gonna call there and complain. They can't go selling bad food. Especially dairy. That is so wrong. Someone could've gotten sick or got salmonella or botulism because of these things.

mom: what was wrong with the eggs? Rotten?

me: No, I was trying to hard boil them and all they did was break, pop and explode. I have egg crap all over the damn place!

mom: what do you mean explode? Did you do it in the microwave or something?

me: no, I boiled the water, dropped in the eggs, and just *bam*- exploding everywhere. I am so gonna call the manager...Mom, why are you laughing, mom, are you there? Breath mama, breath!

mom: *sounds of gasping for air though hysterical laughter and wiping away tears.*

Guess I should have put the cold eggs in cold water, then turned the pan on. Ooops.

And thus concludes Maggie's cooking escapades. Now, I would like to tell you all that I have gotten so much better over the years and rarely do I have cooking fiascoes that in any way, shape or form resemble these stories.

I make a wonderful egg plant parmesan. I have a recipe for homemade tomato sauce that tastes like granny from Italy would make. I make homemade pasta (with a rolling pin and knife, not a pasta maker). I love to make yeast rolls, Hungarian pecan tassies, pork chops with apple stuffing, braised lamb chops with apricot glaze, pot roast in a red wine sauce... these are just a few dishes from my current cooking repertoire. So see, time does heal all... cooking mistakes.

I'm smokin' hot,

Maggie