Sweet Potato Convenience

Sunday, once we were sure zee stepmum was safely on her way back to Iowa without a rerouting of her flight to Topeka, KA (for hell's sakes!), my sister and I finally let our full day of shopping come to an end, going home to her apartment for some din-din . [Our definition of 'Shopping': We wander from store to store, coveting various things we do not need, nor should we buy, either denying the other's personal style, or confirming for one another that that thing, whatever it may be, is indeed, the cutest thing we've ever seen.]

Our dinner consisted of steamed green beans (very, very good - and good for you!) and buttery sweet potatoes (ohh sooo good - and an excellent source of fiber and vitamin A!), and for dessert, we shared a vanilla frozen custard with LOTS of added maraschino cherries (my sister's suggestion - and we are sooo not good for each other!)...

Have you ever seen the shrink-wrapped, perfect-for-one-person sweet potatoes you can buy and prepare in the microwave as is? - - Well, I hadn't ever. I was very impressed! And they even come with their own explicit microwaving instructions (see below)...

This is the part that just kills me =

"Product may whistle while in microwave."

I was imagining someone unaware of the very real whistling factor; someone not knowing of the likely possibility, when microwaving root foods, that they will, indeed, 'whistle' and do so quite loudly = I just died laughing.

Got Chocolate?

One of my old bosses came into my office a moment ago to talk laptops, looking to buy one, and before I knew what he needed, he first said 'hey' and 'how are ya' and the like... and my reply?

I'm good. Do you have any chocolate?

Anything in any those pockets of
yours?

Of course, this threw him off a bit, but produced a good chuckle in response (ya know, one of those chuckles that's equivalent to "yup, yer a total loon") ... and then someone in the hallway saw him and asked him a question and he wandered off...

Less than five minutes later, he reappeared in my doorway and with a big smile, he tossed me a Kellog's 'Double Chocolatey Chunk' Rice Krispies Treat!

Mmmm, Cuppy-Cakey Guhhooodness!

On the 19th, while in Cali with my honey-man, I took this picture shown further below for my sister... See, we have a lil' shop here in Las Vegas called the Cupcakery and she LOVES it, and she will gush about it to some degree whenever we simply drive by on the way to her apartment...

But until this past weekend, I had never actually partaken of the sickeningly sweet, fresh baked, uber moist, ultra rich and delicious yummy goodness that is the Cupcakery. Well, with my step-mum in town, she bought a dozen of the Cupcakery's lil' cupcakes to take back home with her to her office - - but because her return flight to Iowa on Saturday was cancelled due to the super nasty midwestern ice storm (but not until she was less than 20 minutes from landing in Cedar Rapids, rerouted then to Topeka, KA, before being sent all the way back to Las Vegas!!!), we got to keep each one ~ a whole dozen! And soooo finally this past weekend, I discovered the real joys of 'gourmet' cupcake delights = and ohhhh my... [Relevant Note: The word 'Gourmet,' is also known as a tidy euphemism for 'EXPENSIVE' and 'PRICEY' - but they are that GUHHOOD! -and one must admit, the portion size is quite convenient.]

My very first, the delightful cream filled Boston Dream, and for my 2nd, for my breakfast, no less special than my first, the Grasshopper...and for lunch on Sunday, the 'Oh My Gosh, Ganache,' followed by the azaming Coconut Bliss, eaten while riding in the car to the Fashion Show mall... and the Mocha Mocha, eaten with a tall glass of milk, post-day-long-shopping excursion. Yup, that's FIVE different cupcakes in a 24 hour period... 4 of which were eaten in less that 12 hours' time... I have no regrets.

Cupcakes for breakfast, cupcakes for lunch, cupcakes for dinner...I could
live with that.

Here's the Beverly Hills version, Sprinkles
~ obviously, a hot spot...

Their line at Sprinkles was almost to the street corner - for cupcakes!!?!

And here's just a purty nyce street view from a lowly lil' parking space in Beverly Hills near Sprinkles.

P.S. My sister's favorite at the Cupcakery is the Southern Bell, and mine is the Coconut Bliss.

Snapfish, you Snappy Snappers, you!

Can I just tell y'all something?

Snapfish.com and their customer service center, they sooo totally ROCK!

I so love them.

'Flights of Fancy' Takes on New Meaning

Ohhhh my, oh my, oh my... so much has been going on in so many LITTLE ways over the past 2 weeks, but nothing worth of mention (or more accurately, NO TIME to blog), not until this past Sunday!

BACKGROUND INFO: Late last year, I'd sadly passed up 'a chance of a lifetime' uber-generous offer made by my parents, unable to commit to any 'several-months-ahead-in-the-future' kinds of plans at the time, "not knowing what the leave limits of my new job in L.A. will be" - - Well, seeing now that I did not get a job in L.A., despite 92 formal job applications, and seeing that our plans for my moving to L.A., hell or high water, are now entirely on hold, the aforementioned previous offer, thought to have been missed, resurfaced a couple weeks ago.

After some renewed and enthusiastic coaxing efforts from both my father and my sister, and my step-mum, who has alllll along been absolutely insistent that we'd be utter fools not to accept, ever since the idea was first introduced to us nearly 2 years ago, I asked my honey-man, "Can we do it now?" Unfortunately for my honey-man, despite the willingness on the part of my parents to seek a larger 'flat' to accommodate us both, my honey-man's inability to commit due to his work is unchanged since last year, which is a big-huge-fat-rolling-tears kind of bummer of a lifetime, BUHHT upon his own insistence that I'd be a fool not to go, even without him, I will be going... as of this past Sunday, I even have my flights, so it's official!

So, what's this all 'bout then? Well, my lil' bro is graduating from H.S. this year, and he, like my sister had, will be taken by my parents on a trip to Europe. This time 'round though, we're all invited along for the event! The chosen travel dates, although they fall during prime tourist season, are meant to coincide with my brother's love of cycling = the Tour de France opening in London! So, um, yeah - - me and my Iowa fam, plus a friend of my sister's, we'll all be flying to London on June 28th to meet up with my popa-sahn, who will already be there for some bizznessy - - and we'll then all meet at Waterloo station to take the Eurostar to Paris, where we'll stay together for a week in a 4-bedroom flat with a view of the Eiffel Tower, perusing Parisian delights, returning to London in time for the Tour de France opening, then returning to the states, July 11th = Twelve solid days abroad.

Ummm... sooo, yeeeah. Guess I now have something definite to look forward to, eh? That and we still have our Ireland trip yet to plan, just me and my honey-man, together. And so much more to look forward to...

The Foul Practice of Fraud

Just last week, I'd left my purse in a public bathroom, late on a Monday night, and only hours later and several hundred miles away, around 1 am, did I realize what I'd done. The FANTASTIC news is that despite my fantastic idiocy, someone turned in my purse! And not only did they turn it in, they did so with everything still left in it... 1,300 dollars' worth of stuff left in it; NONE of it missing!

Initially, I had had little hope that any of the contents of my purse would be returned, let alone my purse, itself, but even though I got it all back, it doesn't change the fact that because I 'lost' my purse, someone - anyone - had access to A LOT of my personal info., perfectly able to copy any and all of it for future fraudulent uses.

I'm no stranger to fraud, but that's a kinda looong story, so I won't go into right now, but man, I'm tellin' ya one thing = it sucked, BIG TIME! So this time 'round? When I figured out I'd left my purse behind, I made all the right calls in less than 15 minutes, knowing it could already be too late. I cancelled all of my debit and credit cards, and my cell phone service, and this is the important part: As recommended by the Federal Trade Commission, I also contacted two credit report companies (I chose Experian and TransUnion), and put my credit profile on what's call "Fraud Alert" for the next 90 days. Doing this entitles me to free copies of my credit report, and ensures that ANY effort made using ANY of my personal info. to acquire ANY kind of credit in the next 90 days, will be blocked. Of course, this 'alert' lasting for a limit of 90 days, the more saavy crooks surely know about this kind of thing, so it's not entirely foolproof, but I figure it'll at least protect me from the dummy crooks who don't know how to patiently wait.

Please continue to wish me luck on this one! Let's hope it really ends as the happy story it is thus far.

P.S. I do really think it will be fine.

Blessed Be the Good Samaritan!

My 'forgotten' purse has been retrieved... annnd with everything in it!

Yup, EVERYTHING!

1,300 DOLLARS WORTH
of EVERYTHING!?!?

Not one single thing is missing!

Now tell me, just how TOTALLY FREAKIN' AWESOME is that?!? eh?

And now see here next...

Most Blithesome Valentine's Day to You! 'n' You! 'n' You!

Major all over, up and down and all around, ooey-gooey, huggy, kissy, smoochy, heart warming love vibes to you and yours!

Feel My Radiant Brilliance!

Back to work today... without my purse!

Yup, I left it on a coat hook in a women's public restroom stall last night on my way back to Vegas. Didn't realize I'd done so until after 1 am, back in Vegas... been purty shell shocked since then. All my IDs, cards, my cash, my Nano iPod, all my USB drives, including an external 8 GB, my sunglasses, cell phone and ear piece... including the purse itself and all its contents = worth about $700; CORRECTION: It's contents are worth over $1300, since I just remembered my digicam was in there...

I was sooo angry (still am) with myself last night, my honey-man had to nearly wrestle me to get me to settle down and go to bed. From then on, very quietly, I cried myself to sleep, finally conking out around 3 am with my honey-man in high-gear comforting mode. Bless him!

We'll see what we find out... I'm trying to be hopeful.

UPDATE - Same day, 10:30 am: They have my purse! What's in it still, I won't know until the end of the week, so I'm not yet out of the woods, but it's nice that someone turned it in. Meanwhile, I won't have a phone... BUHHT they do have my purse.

And here and here is how it all worked out...

Oh Where, Oh Where have all my Socks Gone?

This past Sunday, I had to unexpectedly pack a suitcase for a possible week away from work, which has, indeed, resulted in an entire week spent away from work. No, I won't go into detail as to why - just know that everything is fine. But anyhow, as I was saying, I had to pack not knowing how long I'd be gone, which brought me to a recent discovery...

MY RECENT & ANNOYING DISCOVERY: One of the things that has come to annoy me most in my semi-transient living arrangements since May of last year, first at my aunt's for 6 months and now renting a bedroom at my friend's place, is that I am losing my socks. Yes. You read that right. I'm losing socks. Forget the cramped living space, all my stuff in storage, the total lack of any kind of dresser or that my things are kept about me on the floor in Hefty trash bags... I'm upset about my socks, dammit!

For years, I've been actually quite proud of the fact that I rarely lose any of my socks. Why I've been consciously proud of this, I dunno - it just lends more to the fact that I am 'organized' on a deeply compulsive level, I guess. Last year before the spring, I had only 1 mismatched loner sock, which was fine, because old socks make good shoe polishing 'rags' and I needed another sock to add to my shoe polishing box. [I am a sick girl.]

Anyhow, last weekend, I had washed a load of darks, yet when packing to leave town, I could find only 5 complete pairs of my favorite socks and 3 mismatches... when I should have 12 COMPLETE pairs!!?! Yes, twelve pairs of my very favorite socks, that's right = 2 pairs for $3 dollars each at Kmart, no joke! Mind you, that 12 pair-count doesn't include any of my workout socks, walking socks, sneaker socks, trouser socks, bedtime socks or holiday-themed socks, nor does it include any of my all-the-same-style brown corded socks, nor my tan, floral patterned Gold Toe socks. A GUILTY CONFESSION: I have a ridiculous amount of socks. Pajamas too, although most of those were mistakenly packed in a box, now somewhere in my storage unit.

So yeah, inexplicably, I've somehow lost ELEVEN socks [The Math: 12 pairs = 24 socks, minus 13 socks (the 5 pairs I still have, minus 3 mismatches) = 11 lost socks!]. How does this kind of thing happen? BACKGROUND INFO: I wash my clothes when I have a lot of dirty laundry piled up, but not often do I ever do laundry out of any concern that if I don't, I'll have nothing to wear. And so now, ANOTHER GUILTY CONFESSION: I have far too many clothes. I admit it and will not deny it. No, I'm not a clothes horse, nor am I any kind of slave to fashion. I have soooo much clothing though, I just don't know how it accumulates = which is a lie, but anyways, sidetracking here...

Because I could only find 5 of my12 pairs of my favorite socks, I just had to hand wash my mere 5 pairs in the bathroom sink, having run out of clean socks to wear. There are now 10 individual socks hanging all over the bathroom to air dry. And I find this amusing... amusing enough that I've actually bothered to write about it on my blog. Yup, my new thing in life is to find amusement wherever possible (this is not really a new approach; I'm easily amused in general). So yeah, I'm fairly annoyed, but also amused...

Where the hell did all my socks go?

P.S. I know, I'm a raging nerd.

Quittin' Time

On Saturday, I was 'oriented,' and on Sunday, I drove to work in the dark, arriving at 6 am for my first 8-hour long shift... and by 8 pm last night, I went back in and I quit. Yup, no more part-timer job, at least for now, and NOT that one.

Time for a wise observation:

What characterizes most immature people is that they sit around complaining that life doesn't meet their demands.

Listen up (directed to myself)!: It's time to stop complaining, although you haven't exactly been sitting around on your arsey, complaining... but anyhow, you need to stop it. Just QUIT it! You need to refocus your energy toward something more productive and more proactive. You need to HAVE SOME FAITH!!! This is just a transitional phase... yes, just another phase you're going through is all...[Although my whole life has felt like one big transitional phase, but hey? that's life!] --- Noooo, that last bit in [ ] wasn't a complaint, because #1, it's simply a statement of fact, and #2, the ending uses a dismissive acceptance statement, equivalent to 'life's tough' and that's that!!

Spoken inside my head, "At what time?"

Tomorrow morning, I have to be at work at my new part-timer job at 6AM.

Enuff said.

She's Leaving 'Home'

It's Friday - - normally a very good work day for me, and not just because it's the last work day of the week! See on Fridays, I can always score rock star parking, and I get to listen to my music kinda loud in my office while I get super caught up at work, since our foot traffic slows to a random drip on Fridays. And on Fridays, I have time for a real lunch hour!

But this Friday? Already, it's absolutely awful! (Although the very first of it, while still in bed, spooning with my honey-man? that was wonderful!) Right now, I'm parked out in the major boonies and had to haul in 3 heavy-loaded paper grocery sacks, a plate of Amish Friendship Cake (not bread, but CAKE), and my own massive work tote. Mind you, I brought it all in one haul (why? - umm, cuz I'm INSANE?!?). The music, I can still enjoy, but I'll be on the phone a lot today, soooo not so much today... And... and... and... well, despite the lousy parking and the limited tunnage, those are really just totally lame-o, totally stalling excuses for why this Friday is so terrible = it's really because it's my assistant's last day.

Over the last week or so, I've told her that I'm not letting her go; That she has to stay; That she can't leave me. This morning, she's off to a training session for her new job, already. It's good too, cuz after hauling all that stuff in, nearly overwhelmed by the aching in my shoulders and the fear that my arms were about to fall off before I could set down the damn cake, if I'd seen her at that time? I would have burst into tears, bawling like a baby!

Directed towards 'she' who is leaving me - I mean, leaving our department: I want you to know that I think this is a very, very good move for you, and I know you'll do soooo well in your new position; I have NO doubt. And I also know, as was the case here, your new co-workers will absolutely love you in a matter of days! You've been great to work with, and in general, it's just been wonderful to have you around; you're a delight on a daily basis, my dear! You have always been a fabulous help; so resourceful and crafty, sharp and reliable; and your patience and the earnest sharing of your feelings? Ah! I'm vehclempted! I will really, really miss working with you, and I hope you know that I love you! Yer awesome, chica!

To Be Added to 'The List'...except, maybe not Everclear

Tuesday night after work, I ventured off by myself to the House of Blues to enjoy some live tunnage (with free tickets in hand!). My honey-man met up with me after he'd finished working, sometime before 9:30 pm, with only the last one of THREE opener bands left to play before the headliner, Everclear, was to perform...

[Possibly Needed SIDE NOTE to explain 'TUNNAGE' as follows, in case it isn't obvious: This word is to be pronounced as "tune" + an ending that sounds similar to that of 'fuselage' or 'cabbage,' or more simply, "tune" + "edge."]

So yeah, my honey-man made it well in time for the 'big' band's performance, and we thought we were doin' pretty good in that way!

Well, when the curtain parted to reveal the 'big' band, we immediately knew something was very wrong, before a single note was sung. First of all, the drummer was off in a corner, as if almost banished, and the keyboardist was partly shrouded behind a curtain. And center stage beheld nothing but a very tired looking lead singer. And half-way through the first verse of their first song, we looked at each other in utter disbelief...

"Ahhh, maybe they'll fix the sound before their 2nd song..."

As their 2nd song, they sang their more popular "Father of Mine," but did so just as poorly as their first, unfortunately.

By their 3rd song, "Humpht. They're simply terrible," yet we gave 'em another chance and another...

We left after their 5th song, I think, along with 1/2 of the audience... and as people were existing out and up the stairs, we passed one of the H.O.B. managers, who looked a bit perturbed. On our way out to valet, we recognized several different couples and groups, who'd we'd seen earlier, inside the H.O.B., who were now leaving as we were. Waiting together for my car, a couple girls were overheard, expounding further upon Everclear's lousy performance, but what they said? um, it can't be repeated here.

The openers though? 1) Neon Culpa (so dang cute! -although I don't think that's the kind of compliment they're going for), and 2) God or Julie, and lastly, 3) Jonny Lives, were all purty good = I had been impressed with them all... except Everclear; they were just soooo unbelievably bad! So bad, that we felt badly for them.

The next morning, I did a quickie internet search for recent Everclear performance reviews... What I found, I think they've been having a run of bad luck for a few years now. It's too bad... too bad to stay!!!

2007 ~ A Bannered Benchmark Year, already!

It just dawned on me that it's my ex-husband's birthday, today, and it's Mihow's too (go cheer her up!), and also my old roommies' birthdays, both Sherri and Heather... But for some reason, today being my ex-hub's b-day, thinking a bit about the past, it all hit me...

This year it will have been 15 years since I had first met the man I came to marry, and it'll be 10 years since I was first married to him. Although I know it's not true, I don't feel like I've accomplished much since 1997 - - don't feel like I'm where I'd thought I'd be by now. Then again, I never thought I'd ever get a divorce and high tail it to Las Vegas, did I? Also in 2007, come this March, it will be 20 years since my mother died... 20 years gone.

I hope those aren't the only two benchmarks to be reached this year. I'm tired of feeling acted upon.

P.S.
Noooo, no one needs to tell me that I've a got a helluva crappy attitude. I know it. I'm chiding myself this very second.

P.P.S.
I absolutely know that I have many a thing -countless things- to be grateful for in my life and I should be friggin' HAPPY, but I think my goof ball standards need a serious beating down. I guess my expectations are too high...

Sleeping Ain't Much Cause for Comfort

So, if anyone hasn't gathered this by now from my most recent posts, I'm a tad stressed out. It's purty ridiculous, yes, in that none of it is life threatening, but I feel pretty crappy, nonetheless. And as things go when I'm stressed, I tend to clench my lower jaw at night and have nightmares...

My most recent horrific dream was that while the angel boy-O was off playing where he shouldn't be (as children often do), in Yellowstone Park, staying in our newly acquired A-frame cabin (that exists only in this dream) in which we were painting the interior walls, I heard screaming outside, and I looked and saw the angel boy-O coming out from the trees, several yards away, with a big grizzly bear running after him... I came out from the loft's sliding doors and I jumped off the loft deck, down into the bed of our truck (also doesn't exist) and ran frantically towards the bear, yelling and screaming to serve as a distraction from its focus on the boy-O. I ran right in front of it, just when it was about to chomp on the boy-O's head, and instead, it bashed into me, knocking me clear off my feet and unconscious against a tree...

Meanwhile, my honey-man had come outside, having heard all the screaming, and he grabbed the boy-O as he reached the cabin out of breath, and then my honey-man scooped up our 2 yr. old (doesn't exist either), and they all jumped into some car that was parked nearby, while out from the trees came 2 baby bear cubs, toddling on up the path to meet up with mommie bear, and then?

They all proceeded to chew on me and I had to have my left leg amputated.

Yeah. Wonder what Freud would say about that one, eh?

Sanity found via L.O.T.R. Triology

My new part-timer job hasn't begun yet, as I'm still waiting for my orientation date. Until then, I'm madly running errands, and scrambling to make my best effort to tie up as many loose ends as I can. It's actually helped that my 'roommate' has been out of town for the last 10 days, to the Sundance Film Festival in UT. Meanwhile, in his absence, over the last 3 days, I've turned his rather large TV room into my own personal sorting space. Everything I've collected over the last 7-8 months, in terms of paperwork and what not, and everything I've had with me since moving out of my apt. in May '06, I've been going through it all. I've managed to spread my stuff all over the whole of a 17' x 22' sized room - no joke.

While 'sorting' through all this stuff, since last Friday night, I've also managed to play the extended version of The Lord of the Rings, "The Return of the King" nearly twice through, and its TWO appendices, both 5 and 6, each in their entirety = that's about THIRTEEN hours of L.O.T.R. in 3 nights!?! Remarkably, this does not mean I've been holed up in the house all weekend. No, really, it doesn't! I went out 3 different times yesterday, and twice today, so far... and I'll go out again in a couple hours, to pick my sister up from the airport. What this does mean, however, is that I haven't gotten much sleep, as the majority of my L.O.T.R. and 'sorting' marathon has taken place in the evenings, working and watching late into the night - - and it also means I'm a big, fat NERD!

Watching Return of the King for the 2nd time, it's just about to end. I think I may run upstairs to grab "The Two Towers" next, going backward in the trilogy... I can easily get in 2 hours of that before heading to the airport, I bet.

I love Lord of the Rings... and Legolas is so hot. (See? BIG NERD, me.)

P.S.
I chose to play the The Fellowship of the Ring instead.

To My Heart's Content

After we finished dinner last night, my honey-man posed a good challenge:

"I'm going to want something for dessert, I think," he said, or something like that...

Well, I'm not home much these days, and the food in my fridge is mainly there for him to consume, but there ain't a whole lot of variety... And my pantry goods aren't as plentiful as usual, but I've got a few basics on hand... eggs, flour, sugar, baking cocoa... and a package of chocolate chips, kept in the freezer as ALWAYS! [Note to Remember: my Mormon upbringing always comes out to play when there's food involved.]

Sooo, I banished my honey-man from the kitchen, telling him I had a perfect surprise in mind and that he absolutely could not peek... I just needed 1 hour.

And viola!
(Correction: "VOILA" = NOT a stringed musical instrument!)

Looks a bit impressive, eh?
And it was SUPER EASY! ~ And it was SOOOO GUHHOOOD!
IT WAS DOWNRIGHT EVIL!

This was my practice attempt for Valentine's Day (although I intend to make either a fresh fruit tart or a genoise using my heart shaped pan - shhh! ~ mah honey-man don't know that!): I used a simple chewy brownie recipe made for a 8" x 8" x 2"-sized pan (I'm sure you could use a store bought mix), baked it in my Kitchen Aid heart-shaped silicone baking dish (my first use!), and once cooled enough to remove from the pan, I topped it with 3 sliced 'nanas and whip cream swirlies made from a can (the 'real' kind though; nothing w/ coconut oils), and some chocolate syrup for drizzle. [SEMI-RELATED TANGENT: My honey-man could hear the sound of the whip cream can going when I was making the swirlies around the top, and he yelled from where he was that it sounded as if I was cooking with a really angry kitty cat as my kitchen helper. END OF TANGENT.]

Now the only problem is this: Mah honey-man returns to L.A. tonight and there's leftovers!

The Joys of Good Friends & American Idol

Home from work last night, still feeling as though I'd been crapped on, I changed outta my stuffy work clothes, into something muy, muy more comfortable, before we were to go visit wonderful friends for dinner. Minutes later, we were driving up the road on our way, and while tearing up, I told my honey-man that I wasn't ready for the evening, and that I didn't want to go; that I didn't want to have to put on a happy face and fake it and that I didn't think I could.

And I was right, I couldn't do it - - BUHHHT, turns out, I didn't have to.

We walked in the door and they were all so happy to see us, and the baby boys were soooo dang disgustingly cute, and my honey-man was so dang disgustingly cute, sitting on the floor with the baby boys, and the wine was poured, and the conversations were rolling, and the bruschetta was scrumptious (it really was, Kim!) and the dinner, it was soooo delicious (it really was, Kim!)... GOOD FRIENDS ARE PRICELESS!

But then...?

"Oh, it's time for American Idol," says Kimmy, as she hops right up from the table, then and there, and immediately leads the way out of the dinning room... right now!

BACKGROUND INFO: My honey-man had never before watched American Idol.

So we all moved into the TV room and we sat down and got all comfy with our cups of decaf and nummy caramel walnut tart. And then the show? I swear, my honey-man was as entertaining as the show, itself! His pained expressions and the groaning agony, his knee jerk reactions and his roaring laughter, through tears of horror and shared embarrassment and twisted bemusement... watching my honey-man squirm like that? I have to admit, in a kind of semi-guilty way, it was a blast! ~ He was just so cute! [A VERY GUILTY ADMISSION: Um, ahhhh, yeah - I'm admitting that I basically enjoyed his discomfort at the time = I'm a terrible person.] Yet by 9:30 pm, seeing the emotional exhaustion on my honey-man's face, I had a certain suspicion, which I planned to test out later once the show was well over and he'd had the chance to recover a bit.

On the way back 'home,' I asked my honey-man if he 'd want to watch American Idol next week...

His answer was given in an exaggerated and deliberately slow and emphatic manner, clearly communicating that the matter was not up for discussion: "Nooooo." And I knew exactly why not.

There's supposed to be a screening process for all American Idol auditions. And we should all recognize producers let the less-blessed vocals through that final audition door, knowing these people don't have a chance in hell for makin' Hollywood... also knowing the U.S. public enjoys a good freak show! Some of those apparently deluded people, who make through to the final audition room, despite a total lack of vocal talent, are clearly out of touch with reality in many different ways, but once the audition is over, the pain of rejection that they feel is very really = those tears are real.

I knew my honey-man wouldn't be able to sit and watch all that and enjoy it. He'll happily watch Scarface, yes, but real people, crying real tears? Nope. And I don't think that most people actually enjoy that aspect of the show much either, but my honey-man, he just can't take it and he won't not ever again, and I know it.

Me though? If I remember to, I'll be watching at least one more auditions broadcast.

Keep Throwin 'em While I'm Down - UPDATED

Originally written, 01/24/2007, UPDATE FURTHER BELOW:

Man... last Friday, we decide to buy a house, and thereafter, the wind's taken from my sails, lickety split!

Well, so here's the latest "it gets worse" news... and I'm so embarrassed about it, I contemplated letting it go by, without us telling anyone, but if I hold it in?

What you let out, it can save you... what you hold inside, it can destroy you.

We took my 2005 Matrix to the car dealership to have a couple things looked at, expecting the warranties to cover any needed repairs. Upon closer inspection, initially minor clues made now more evident by a recent LA driver having rammed into my car's front bumper from a parallel parking spot, looking where the paint has cracked from the impact, we can now see glaring evidence of an over-paint body and paint job = Yes, a prior accident, poorly repaired and never reported. So, that clean CARFAX report we paid for was apparently worthless...

After taxes and fees paid and what not, we spent $15K in cash on a car that may be worth only $8K, if we're lucky, and with all auto warranties, now completely NULL and VOID. Yeah, I was going to get an auto loan on this car from my credit union for maybe $10K of it's worth, to return some of that $15K to the bank, but now? I'm not going to pay interest on a car that's not even worth it's loan amount... Losing $5K outright, and owning a car that will look like absolute shit in a couple years, and feeling like a royal idiot's ass is bad enough, thanks.

We so got conned.

UPDATE, as of 3/05/07: Turns out it's not as bad as we'd thought!!! Although the paint job is, indeed, total shit, etc. etc., the car's mechanics are entirely sound and this aspect of the car is still under warranty, thus, the car is worth $13K!!! Yes, we'd bought it believing we were getting a screaming deal on a Matrix normally listed for $17K, if bought from a dealership, BUHHT, $13K is a helluvahlot better than $8K!?! No, I don't think this means we'll now take a loan out on the car... not having a car payment has been rather nice, I must say! Plus, the thought of paying interest on a car not worth its originally expected value kinda irks the hell outta me, frankly! = I just don't wanna do that!