Flaming

I'm feeling a little sad today so this might not be a great post. It will, however, be all about me.

My birthday was a big bust (as usual). My birthdays are infamous for sucking. I'm beginning to think it's because I put too much emphasis on it. I get too excited and then when nothing big happens, I'm disappointed.
Note to self: do not make large hoopla about birthday next year. Perhaps big will happen then.
I am always saddened by the lack of celebration. This year was the worst. I didn't do a single thing. We went to Outback and I escaped the dreaded wait staff birthday song. There was the possibility of plans, of which I was really, really, really looking forward to. And then, in usual fashion, they fell through. Ok, not so much as fell through as people said they weren't going and then went anyway! What? Whatever.

Y'all know how much I love to shop. In fact, it's in the top three things I do best (third is baking and the second is none of your business). But instead of shopping for lame candle sets and picture frames for teachers, I decided I would create elaborate food baskets. They're very cute! I made so much stuff and all from scratch. I learned that I do not make good marshmallows but that I make kick ass biscotti. I'm always thinking that I'd like to do that for a living; make baskets. All kind of baskets! Wine, cheese & fruit baskets, cookie baskets, smelly (lotions, candles, bath stuff) baskets. There are so many things I want to do. But you know, silly monkey job and very important family prevent me from chasing my crack pipe dreams. Just in case, I stuck little business cards on the bottom of the baskets that sort of advertised that for a price, I'd make more.

Oh! Here's irony for you. My Christmas shopping has been done for several weeks now. Partly to avoid the last minute rush and pandemonium which is Christmas shopping but mostly because I love to shop so much, I get it done very quickly. And I'm organized. However, my mom wants me to take her Christmas shopping tomorrow. At the mall. Ack! I don't want to. But I will. Because she is my mother and I love her. Plus, I'll get to pick out all my own Christmas presents.

I spent Saturday afternoon with my maternal grandparents. I love them. I love them as much as I love anything in the entire world. We ate Barbecue and shopped at the Salvation Army. I feel so lucky to have known them, I am a million times wiser and my life has turned out better because of Gramma and Silly Grandpa Bobby.

Now, I am tired. It's time to put the sadness to bed. Tomorrow, this post may not be here and I'm hoping the happiness will take over again. After all, I'll be playing Santy Clause at school tomorrow with Chicken's teachers.

Post Script: I'd like to again thank everyone who was kind enough to acknowledge my birthday.

Balls Of Steel

Allow me to preface my funny story by insisting that I really do love my husband. And by funny I mean funny like when your brother farted on your head and everyone laughed but you. But onto the story.

And in continuing my multi-part series on stupid men, I give you this:

We went to Orlando last weekend to see my sister and her family who were there on vacation from New Hampshire. We stopped by the Ghirardelli Chocolate Shoppe, my favorite chocolate joint. I needed to pick up some baking supplies and holiday gifts. While I'm there, Husband asks me to get him "something other than the Carmel filled chocolate bar since we always get that at home". So I get him the 60% cacao espresso bar. Because the Carmel filled is the best, I buy myself one and eat one row on the way home, leaving 5 rows for later.
I spent the following day at work thinking about my Carmel chocolate bar. I came home, cooked (and ate) dinner and could not wait to rip into that bitch.

:GASP:

The bitch was gone.
Thinking that perhaps I put the candy in another bag, I asked my husband. "Honey, where is my Ghirardelli Carmel chocolate bar?"

Then it hit the fan.

You see...he ate the fat girl's chocolate. The. Whole. Thing. Then he laughed and said "It wasn't even that good." and left the evidence for all to see.
How are you going to eat a fat girl's high end chocolate, leave the wrapper, insult the candy and not immediately get up off your ass and purchase me a new candy bar? I don't understand.
He is paying for this dearly. I don't know how yet but he will be punished.
By the way, his 60% cacao espresso bar goes untouched. It will be destroyed and so will he.

Edited to add: Husband wants me to tell you that he thinks it's ok that he ate my $4 chocolate bar because I ate his frozen White Castle burgers. But I ate 2 burgers and left him 2. Besides, White Castle v. Ghirardelli? There is no contest there.

Husband shall pay.