Farewell Pizza Friday

So the best thing about my former job was Pizza Friday. (FYI, I now have newer and awesomer job that I love so much I don't even notice the 10 hour days. If you're keeping score at home, that's about 7 hours more a day than I've been used to working.)

So Pizza Friday was the best!! It was easily the coolest perk of the entire company. Every other Friday they'd bring pizza in for the whole office. This was a highly ritualized experience, and May the Hammer of Thor protect you if you dared to break the rules, which are these:

1. Line up OUTSIDE of the break room until all of the pizzas and sodas have arrived and have been arranged.
2. DO NOT enter the break room until the Official Go Ahead has been given.
3. DO NOT schedule the large conference room during Pizza Friday time thereby causing everyone to have to eat at their desk and be lame.
4. Bring your most outlandish stories and Office Space quotes to make the dining experience more fun.
5. No one invite HR or any Execs to eat in the conference room so we can complain at length and talk about how hung over everyone is.

Pizza Friday was the highlight of my life at that job. I started looking forward to it about 30 minutes after finishing my last slice of Tomato & Bacon. So its only fitting that my last day at the office was also Pizza Friday. That scheduling, my friends, was 100% intentional.

So on my last Pizza Friday, I was all set to follow the time honored tradition of lining up and policing the break room door for any wise guys who thought they could sneak in early, when my pal Corey told me I needed to go to the Front Lobby. I was like, "Um, Corey, the pizza is in HERE!" and he was like, "Zip it Girlfriend and come with me to the lobby."

So we went up there. And that's where he unveiled a pizza just for me with a giant G spelled out with pepperoni. It was a sublime moment in my life.

So of course, being the spaz that I am, I squealed like a school girl, and jumped around a little bit. Only to turn around and see every member of the Executive group shooting lasers at me through the glass wall of the Front conference room. Unbeknownst to me they were having some kind of fancy-pants conference call in there.

Whoops! Typical moi, looking classy at every opportunity.

Apparently they didn't think that a G Pizza is worth screaming about. I happen to think they're wrong. Tis but one of the differences between me and executives.

On the Radar

ME: You know if Tim wasn't married, I would swear he is gay. I'm picking up serious gaydar blips from him.

FRIEND: Yeah. Tim's married. (long pause while I continue to try and reconcile the blips with the ring) To STEVE.

ME: OH! Well I must say I'm relieved to hear that. I thought my gaydar was on the fritz!! I used to have zero gaydar and I've worked hard to get some. I'd be really bummed out if it was broken!

Monticello, Kiss a Fellow

So I won't lie, there are a lot of things that rhyme with Monticello but none so fun as "kiss a fellow." Especially because if Spring were a fellow he would have gotten a great big kiss from me for serving up such A-Mazing weather for my day trip to Monticello!

Look at the beauty!!!

Here's the Garden Front:




And here's the view that Thomas Jefferson had from his bedroom window to the mountain behind Monticello (little mountain) called Alto-something-or-other, that means high mountain. Judging from this picture he should have called it Wicked Awesome Tree View Mountain.



And here are some beautiful tulips shown off on the Winding Walk.



And in front of the house, or the Carriage Front, is this amazing old little-leaf linden. Which was offering some very nice shade on such a toasty day.




The last time I visited Monticello it was Fall. And cold and somewhat rainy. Blegh. So take it from me, if you're considering a visit to Monti-C, chose Spring. Definitely Spring.

Ollie's Trolley

I think this place looks like it would have good chili.

Anyone want to come with me and put my theory to the test?

Don't Call It A Comeback

Are you refreshed? I'm refreshed. Yup. Very, very refreshed.

So refreshed in fact, I think I'll take up this blogging thing again. I've been spending most of my creative efforts in Facebook lately. I'm lovin the Facebook, people! But apparently my pithy little FB Status messages aren't satisfying the 3 people who read this blog. And there's been an outcry.

I thought for sure that my fanbots would have forgotten about my blog during my 2.5 month break, but no! Some real live people are actually still checking it out and want more. No one is more amazed than I.

For example, Pop Hanson left me this voicemail the other day:

We are having a family council and it has been decided that it has been way too long since you've updated your blog. Begin updating forthwith.

Please send money.

Thank you. Goodbye.

(I can always tell when he's means business because he'll use his Business Letter voice. He's very keen on formal communication.)

So I'm back, baby!

Stay tuned for shenanigans and tomfoolery...

Let Them Eat Frickin Awesome Cake

So January -- or Birthdaypalooza as I call it -- has finally ended.

Wrapping up the fiestas was Camie's birthday on the 31st.

I wanted to do something really great for Camie's birthday, but having to spend the whole week prior to the day out of town really limited the amount of pre-Birthday prep I could do. But I figured that at the very least I could make her a cake.

And I knew just what kind of cake to make. (Twirling the proverbial mustache)

I figured something along these lines would be perfect.

Go ahead and take a look. I'll wait.

....

...

Ready? Ok. So clearly the bar has been set pretty high. And I wanted Camie's cake to be just as funny if not funnier than those cakes. But I didn't want it to be gross or real mean. Fake mean was ok, but only if she knew it would be fake mean and not real mean. And I wanted it to tell her that I love her and am super glad she's my best pal and roommate. But didn't want to, you know, flaunt that status in case the other party goers felt a little weird eating a cake with a sentimental greeting written on it. Hello AWKWARD!

Believe me, with all of these feelings to convey striking the right balance in your cake text is trickier than you might think.

Here were the runners-up:

Bite me
I figured this one was too literal

You are Smart, and Funny, and Kind to Animals
But then everyone there would just think I'd written a bunch of lies down. Cake Text should be a distiller of truth.

Shut Up! No YOU Shut Up!
I liked this, but I worried it wouldn't fit on the cake

Sorry You're Soulless
This was good, but it lacked a certain personal touch that would really make it meaningful. So I morphed it to this:

Sorry You're a Soulless Bitch
PERFECT!!

Except there wasn't enough room on the cake. So I had to rework it. And ended up with this:

Sorry You're Old Bitch

Short. Truthful. And most importantly, it held up a time honored tradition in which I either call her a Bitch or give her cards or presents that do it for me.

And if you think that I'm saying Bitch like its a bad thing, then you should know that under all of that cream cheese frosting is a DROP DEAD AWESOME HOMEMADE Red Velvet Cake. If that don't say Love Ya Like A Brother From Another Mother I don't know what does. Unless its making 34 mini red velvet cupcakes with mini swirls of cream cheese frosting and candles arranged into a giant flaming 34 so every party guest could blow out their own cupcake and make a wish. But wait a minute! I did that too.

Happy Birthday Camie!

Getting What you Pay For

Earlier today at Eastern Market I thought I'd grab a quick lunch.

ME: Hi! I'd like a 1/4 lb hot dog please.

HOT DOG MAN: Sure. Here you go.

ME: YUM! Thanks a lot!

Hands me my hot dog, and I move to the condiment station to sass it up. Meanwhile a snotty little teenage girl comes up to the hot dog stand.

SNOTTY GIRL to HOT DOG MAN: Are those done yet?

HOT DOG MAN: No. Sorry. There gonna be about 3 minutes.

SNOTTY GIRL: Another guy said they were gonna be 3 minutes. And that was like FIVE minutes ago!

HOT DOG MAN: Sorry.

SNOTTY GIRL: I'm REALLY hungry!

HOT DOG MAN: I'm sorry, but it will be about three minutes.

Snotty Girl walks off in a huff.

Then Hot Dog Man turns to me and says with a big grin: I just gave you her hot dog!

Wherever you are Snotty Girl, I want you to know that that hot dog was EXTRA delicious.