Happiness is hugging a giant tree - posted at 19:57

Cory took me to Yosemite for my birthday (yes, he's the best husband ever!).

In Yosemite they have giant sequoias.

I got to hug one.

I can die happy now.

Happiness is hugging a giant sequoia!

Cream cheese does not a yummy meal make - posted at 23:43

I'm not a big fan of adding fats to everything for flavor. It's a serious cheater route. Anyone can make something laced with butter taste good, but real culinary skill comes from, well, being more sophisticated in your approach to food.

With that, I'm not a big fan of Paula Deen. Shocker, I know, but she represents the worst of the Food Network: someone with no culinary skills beyond cream cheese but with mass marketability (which is why I'm not a big fan of most of the people on that network *cough* Rachel Ray *cough*).

I always joke about how Paula Deen adds a pound of cream cheese to everything. I never thought it was 100% literal, but....

She's managed to add cream cheese to....

... wait for it...

CRANBERRY SAUCE.

I couldn't believe it. That woman has got some serious cream cheese talent. It's talent she needs to keep to herself, but it's talent nonetheless.

Seeing is believing: link

Happy Thanksgiving menu planning to you all, and for god's sake, leave the cream cheese out of it!

Update: Ye gods!!! She's gone one step beyond cream cheese and - get this - DEEP-FRIED some cranberry sauce!!! That's just offensive. It's like a train wreck, I can't look away. And we wonder why Americans are the fattest people on earth....

Pawesome! - posted at 22:30

HOORAY! Sienna is coming back to Alaska in five days!!! She's been gone for three months and I've missed her so much... luckily my work schedule is finally stabilizing to the point where I can properly take care of a furry little four-legged friend again. I'm so grateful that my parents were able to help out and watch her because I know they take such great care of her and there's a lot of love going both ways there. It gives me a lot of peace of mind to know that she's well taken care of while I've been stuck working thirteen hour shifts.

About two weeks after she gets here I'm moving to a different place that will have more space. It has a basement so I'm going to turn it into a Doggie Playroom where she can stay while I'm at work (maybe with a doggie pal or two) and where we can do obedience and agility training. There is also a ton of open space behind the house and there's a huge park across the street. Can you say Chuck-It??? I know Sienna can!

I'm super excited about all of this - I mean, duh, it's Sienna... who wouldn't be excited? Hooray for the Alaska Adventure Dog coming back home!!!!

This Fish and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Morning - posted at 10:00

When I woke up this morning (at 4:30!) I didn't have gum in my hair. But that doesn't mean that I was going to get a reprieve.

I had left my swimming bag at work yesterday and didn't realize it until I was halfway home. "No matter," I thought. "The building is supposed to be open 24 hours and it's on my way to the gym," and continued on my merry way, setting my alarm perhaps a few minutes earlier than I would have otherwise. Upon the commencement of that doleful ringing, I had a lengthy and tortured arm wrestling match in my head about how I should react to said alarm. Swimming won and sleep sulked off into the corner to nurse its bruised ego.

When I got to my car, I found it covered in...... Slush. Now many of you may not be acquainted with my opinion of Slush, so here it is: Slush has got to be the most god-awful weather phenomenon known to man. It's not rain, it's not snow, it's the horrible bastard child of the two that makes every other driver's IQ drop by 30 points, minimum. It's the cold splattery stuff that get kicked up and conspires to drench your poor, unassuming legs. It is, in fact, a harbinger of the Apocalypse.

So did I take it as a sign? Did I go back to bed? No, dear reader, in true stubborn, Moore-bred fashion, I did not. I got in my car, turned on the wipers, and off I went. The weather was ok for a few miles but grew steadily worse as I approached the pool, sleet and Slush (drat!) coming down thickly in silver-dollar sized bits, shutting down visibility.

And still I persisted.

I parked outside my office, ran up to the door, and..... nothing. The door was locked, the way was shut (and with the way the day was shaping up, there may as well have been a grey wizard bellowing "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"). "Dammit!" I had my work clothes with me, but no shower stuff, no towel, and certainly, no workout gear of any kind, be it dryland or wet. That was all on the other side of the unyielding, evil, conspiring door whose stubbornness outstripped mine. I had no choice but to return home to get ready for work.

On the way home I consoled myself with the thought that on my way back in to work my favorite coffee shack would be open and I treat myself to a nice hot cappuccino on my way in. Well that dream got deflated in a hurry when I drove by the place to find the line spilling out from the parking lot into the oncoming traffic lane. SERIOUSLY, PEOPLE!?!?!? Is your coffee fix that important that you're willing to block traffic in terrible road conditions??? (See previous comment about Slush's effect on the human intelligence quotient.)

I returned to my office building (alas, caffeineless) less than two hours later. The Slush was no longer raining down like anti-manna from heaven, and I soon discovered why: it had a new strategy of all being on the ground.

I slipped a little when I got out of the car and very nearly had My First Moment Of Utter Grace (aka flat on my ass on the ice) of the season. Dratted Slush.....

I (carefully) made my way back to my building, doing the Alaska Shuffle all the way lest the Slush claim its first victim. Surely the office would be open by now... it would be inconceivable that it would still be locked after 7 o'clock.

Dammit! It was still locked. And the Slush had resumed coming down (or, rather, sideways, as there was a healthy wind going) and stinging me in the face. And there is no shelter in front of the office door. And I was really crabby and really tired because I had gotten up before 0-dark-thirty, hadn't swum, and had been foiled in my attempt to revive myself with a frothy, warm, tasty coffee.

Twenty minutes later the building was unlocked and I poured in, face even redder than usual from the wind and the Slush. In that moment I'd never been happier than I was right then about the fact that my section had, uh, requisitioned a coffee pot the day before, and I took the carafe into the break room to clean it out. I saw what looked like a weird dark coffee stain and went to town on it with a scrubbie to make it a fitting receptacle for our morning brew (we're professionals. We take that stuff very seriously). After seeing no results from a fit of scrubbing that would certainly have lifted rubbery scrambled egg residue from a stainless steel pan, I run a fingernail over the blemish and discover....

A crack.

Dammit!!! Not only would it leak that precious, precious coffee, the crack would most certainly be aggravated by the heat.

That's it!!!! I threw up my hands and give up, conceding my utter, complete, and total loss to whatever god was laughing at me at that very moment.

I should have stayed in bed this morning -- even if there had been gum in my hair....