We're gay, we have candles out the wazoo.

As I'm typing this, it's getting dark outside. Unfortunately, that means it's getting dark inside too. You see, we were in Hurricane Irene's path - Eastern CT, to be exact. We lucked out and didn't get all the rain they had been forecasting (that fell to our west) but we got wind. Boy, did we get wind. we got crazy fucking wind. We lost power (and a good portion of one of our trees) about 12 hours ago.

Last night, Kitty Mom, my dad's girlfriend (and my aunt - yes, it's a weird family I belong too - but it's not like we're inbred or anything), texted us, to make sure we were ready. She had seen my Facebook post about how we were ignoring the mandatory evacuation. When we found out it went something like this:

me: Uhm, Punk? An emergency services truck just drove down the street broadcasting an announcement that we need to evacuate by 6pm.

Punk: Fuck that. We have a gas stove. We're hunkering down.

A knock on the door a few minutes later proved to be our across the street neighbor Rob. As we all talked, he echoed Punk's sentiments. Then again, he & his wife are also the proud owners of a $2000 generator. Fuckers. Shortly after that Heather, our next door neighbor, called. She had also decided to stay put. Our other next door neighbor, Mrs. Duncklee, didn't call. She died a few months back, so that's probably a good thing. Not that she died, but that she didn't call - because I would have freaked the fuck out if a ghost called to ask if we were staying or leaving.

Oh, so anyway, yes, my father's girlfriend/my aunt texted to make sure we were going to be okay. She's adorable, and was all like "You have batteries, and water, and candles?" I could only text back "We're gay, we have candles out the wazoo." 

Sure enough, we lost power 12 hours ago, and now it's getting dark. Our house looks like something out of a Stevie Nicks video, with candles burning everywhere. The food in the fridge may be slowly spoiling, but the great room smells like pears. And freshly mown grass. And grapefruit with sage. Yeah, we're gay. And we have the candles to prove it.

But damn I miss the interwebz.

P.S. The story about how my dad's girlfriend is also my aunt is really NOT that weird. Really.

Houston, we have a problem. Yes, but we have a riding crop

This past weekend, we went to a bar party. Long story short, it was supposed to be a Bear Run (newbies can google What is a Bear Run) that got cancelled due to some massive fuck uppery by the douche bag who was supposed to be organizing it. Rather than call it off, the bar owners (our friends Frank & Chris) decided to just have a party at the bar for whoever could make it. So there we were, 50 or so bears hanging out, drinking & chilling.

A bunch of us (Punk & I, Stan, Stamford Steve, Joe C. & The Maldens) were there. Side note - this crew (plus Randy & Jason, Stan's hubby Steve, and a few others) is the main "Juice Box Journals" crew. Any time we get together, in whole or in part, you can be sure trouble, chaos and maybe the apocalypse are soon to follow. Stan, Stamford & Randy are, in particular, a dangerous trio.

So we had all caught a pretty good buzz, and were off chatting with different people. Suddenly, and I'm not exactly sure when, where or how, Stamford had a riding crop in his hand. Now I know it's his (Stan teaches horse riding, and introduced riding crops to our group years ago. They show up all too frequently), but he should NEVER be allowed out in public with one. Especially when drunk. He'll start out gently swatting people on the ass with it, but will inevitably forget his own strength & start smacking the shit out of some unfortunate soul.

Luckily, Stan somehow got the crop away from Stamford. Keeping it out of Stamford's hands was paramount, but it didn't mean that we couldn't have fun with it.

...Aaaannnnnnd this is why I'm fat.

Did I mention that Punk is a chef? He's owned/run his own restaurant (The North End) for over 20 years. There's almost nothing he doesn't know how to cook, and cook wonderfully - and I've benefitted/suffered because of it. So this morning, as I'm finishing walking on the treadmill (walking off last night's delicious BLT's), he sticks his head in and says "I feel like making something." This is a common sentence in our home. When I say it, you know there's a pitcher of cocktails in our immediate future. When Punk says it, something tasty (and usually sweet) is on the horizon.

[caption id="attachment_131" align="alignleft" width="360" caption="Are they as good as they look? Fuck yeah."][/caption]

This mornings concoction? Cupcakes. Not just cupcakes, but Key Lime Curd Filled Lemon Cupcakes with an Italian Buttercream Frosting. I came downstairs to see the kitchen aid whirring, and Punk boiling the sugar for the Italian buttercream. I've been with him long enough to know that "You are insane" is not the thing to say when he's in a baking mood. Because do the two of us really need 2 dozen cupcakes? If I mention that, he will inevitably respond with "You didn't get that way from looking at it, douchebag."

Here's the thing. He's used to cooking "restaurant scale". I'm not sure if he's even capable of cooking for two anymore. A Pasta dinner for the two of us will involve a pound of pasta, a dozen or so meatballs and a full loaf of Italian bread. During the week, I'm a hero at work for the amount of leftovers I bring in.

So yes, I blame my husband for the 40 pounds of weight I need to lose. If he was a shitty chef, I'd be much thinner. But then again, if he was a shitty chef, I wouldn't be noshing on this fucking awesome cupcake right now, trying to decide just what cocktail would best complement them...

 

Edit: After much experimentation, it was determined that Cosmos were the best complement. But then again, I say that to a lot of things.

Apropos of nothing...

Random thoughts:

I have a lot of shit on my laptop. It's a 2009 15" MacBook Pro, and I love it to death. But really, I need to clean it up. I have dozens of weird random images on my desktop - many for blog posts. Here's one of the stranger ones:



I just installed Lion, and so far, I think I like it.

I'm creative, caring, know how to make a mean cosmo, and am occasionally clever. Those are the plusses. I'm a procrastinator, I hate conflict, I'm mildly ADD, and am absent minded . Those are the minuses. I love reality TV, reading on the john, I'm a happy drunk, and can't burp. Plusses or minuses - you decide.

I'm blogging in my underwear, sipping a delicious glass of Kono Sauvignon Blanc. I'm also watching Big Brother - Rachel should be shot at dawn. Just a little slice of life insight.

Speaking of which - Punk & I have a side business called Slice of Life. It's an online t-shirt company with designs by and for foodies. Check us out!

My nephew just married his long-time girlfriend/fiancee last weekend. Unfortunately, Punk & I had to miss it, due to work. But we are psyched to officially welcome Lady to the family!! Hi Danielle Councilor! I saw Jodie's pictures - you were (are!) beautiful!

I'm also an avid computer gamer - I love World of Warcraft, even if I've barely had the chance to play it in the last few months. Yes, I'm a geek.

One of the the things I've learned I need to work on doing in my blog posts (thanks for the great examples, Jen!) is really to tell a story. Beginning, middle, end. And of course, to be entertaining.

Random thoughts, out....

He's a chinchilla farmer...

I know I blogged about my fear of being judged in my last post. Here's the catch: Snap judgements are fun, and occasionally hysterical.

The scene: A pool filled with 100's of bears. For those of you who don't understand that last sentence, I'll give you a readers digest. A bear is, generally, a gay man who is somewhat heavyset & usually hairy. Intrigued? My job is done - but if you want (or need, you perves!) more info, check this link for the dry, boring explanation. The more daring of you can follow this link, but I won't be held responsible. You click it, you buy it!

Okay - so anyway, we're at the pool with 100's of bears (One more side note. Lots of bears in a pool is commonly referred to as "Bear Soup".) Punk, Frank & I are sitting in the chairs, daintily sipping our Planter's Punch, complete with 151 rum floaters. We watch as one scantily clad (okay - another side note. Many bears wear speedo bathing suits, with wildly varying results.) bear gets out & poses & preens while talking to a friend. This guy was so furry it was overwhelming. He was also wearing ancient, a decrepit cowboy hat, had ratty semi bleached long hair, leathery face, etc. It set Punk, Frank & I to analyzing him. The conversation went something like this:

Frank: You know he's named something unisex, like sky or storm.

Punk: He's probably named after a car.

Frank: I don't think he's a mercedes. He's more of a buick.

Me: And you know he's sad because it's his last day here before he goes back to working at the ranch. I'm sure he works at a chinchilla farm.

Frank: Yes, that's it. His name is a vowel & he's a chinchilla farmer.

Punk: Mystery solved.

At which point we decided the best thing to do would be to order another round of drinks. I was fairly sure Oue the chinchilla farmer would approve.

I posted what?

So THAT'S the danger of posting not just buzzed, not just drunk, but seriously fucked up. I have almost no idea what those two posts were meant to say. Well, that's not completely true.

Bitches laying sown is obviously a reference to the fact that everyone who was sleeping over last Friday/Saturday AM was finally going to bed.

I stopped all my heRy medications just for this weekend was a (poorly) typed quote from Randy - "I stopped all my heart medications just for this weekend."

The background. We had our big summer party this weekend. I mean big - probably 100-125 people over the course of the day. Luckily, we've got some great friends who come down the night before to help with the final set up - cooking, cleaning, getting shit set up, etc. This also becomes, as Joe put it - the unofficial party before the party. It's a chance for Punk & I to party without having to really worry about socializing. Everyone there that night knows the house, and each other well enough that we can just have fun - no small talk needed. It's a well earned pre-party party. Did I mention a lot of them stay over? By a lot I mean we had (including Punk & I) 16 people staying over - it was like an air mattress factory exploded. But damn we had fun.

But there's a moral to the story - when posting drunk, try & at least add a sentence or two, so I don't forget what the fuck I'm posting about.

Oh, and the party? It was.... epic. A huge crowd, great food, lots of cocktails & shots, great fireworks and a lot of laughter.



Then there was the end, when we had a rapidly escalating series of dramas - attempted theft of 2 laptops (and the fucker succeeded in getting an iPod), someone peeing in a tent and, I kid you not, explosive diarrhea in the garage. Really people?

No one else wants a slice of Lemon Cake?

(Followed by, in the highest imaginable sing song soprano voice)  Randy: It's going to be delicious!



The cake is, ironically, the leftovers. The best part of being married to a chef is, obviously, the food. ITake breakfast. I can get up 45 minutes before he does, get coffee going, start frying bacon, get everything laid out, and he will come down, revise the menu, and, I kid you not, 5 minutes later an amazing brunch is ready. He is that good.

But back to the cake. Punk will go through phases. Cakes happen to be something that he's into making recently. But he doesn't make a box cake. It's a 4 layer extravaganza with an italian buttercream frosting, complete with piped roses & decorations. FOR THE TWO OF US.

So dessert was leftovers. For dinner (Punk & I, Randy & Jason, Joe, & Rena), he made Grilled BBQ Chicken, Corn on the Cob, Pasta Salad, Caprese Salad, and House Made French Fries (splashed w/ Fluer de Sel). I'm generally smart enough to stay out of the kitchen when he cooks. My place is, obviously, the bar.

Tonight, at the bar, we had 2 specialty drinks available. Black Currant Cosmos (my choice), or Fresh Strawberry & Pineapple Frozen Daiquiris, Almost everyone else chose that. More cosmos for me.......