diamonds are forevahhhh.

this past weekend, i went to the wedding of a very dear friend of mine from high school. i'll have pictures to post soon, including one of brad sporting a very sharp, glittered hat. heh. he's pretty.

have you seen ads for this show? i caught a preview for it the other night. my mom was convinced that mark consuelos was the one being set up -- and seriously, he and mark phillippoussis do resemble one another. it's kind of creepy, actually. also creepy: where are the thirty year old women? phillippoussis is thirty-one. do the producers not think he should be dating someone his own age? do they think that that women in their 20s and 40s make for better drama/entertainment? reality tv makes my brain hurt. and really, who gets married to someone they met on television? trista and ryan don't count.

excitement: my dear, dear lovely friend kendall got engaged last friday to her dear, dear lovely boyfriend ciro. it would have come as quite the shock, had they not been dating for EIGHT YEARS. in all seriousness: i couldn't be happier for my friends. i'm ecstatic, and cried joyful tears when she told me. and not just because i get to buy a new dress. and shoes. i met kendall my freshman (her sophomore) year of college in the class 'theater 101', otherwise known as 'don't try to meet straight men here.' we both knew the entire book and score to the movie 'evita' -- and sang aloud during the class screening -- and our friendship was solidified from there on out. we did one musical together (the cast party for which we recall with fond memories of sitting on someone's kitchen counter, drinking rolling rock), were cinema majors together (she being the far superior student in that realm) and lived together for a year, during which we held many a dinner party, all-night study session, and one memorable thanksgiving feast. many episodes of 'friends' were watched together, accompanied by many cartons of chinese food. when she graduated, and subsequently moved out of our house, i was both excited (for her) and traumatized (for me.) we don't see each other as frequently as we would like, but when we do get that opportunity to reconnect it's as if no time has passed. congratulations, kace. love love.

success

y'all? the rhubarb coffee cake?
i've never been more impressed with a recipe, and my adherence to a recipe, in all my life.

i believe i made the k.g. proud.

birthdays, poo and the healing powers of rhubarb.

today is the wee bakery's 6 month birthday! happy birthday, wee bakery. i will bake you some wee cupcakes. were you an actual bakery, i could go to you and buy said cupcakes. but you are not. you are a silly, nonsensical internety entity. readership: 4
but i love you for giving me someplace other than my binding-less, drama filled notebook to focus my craziness.

in non-birthday related news (hi. buy me a dictionary. 'news' came out 'noos' on the first go around.): for reasons we have yet to ascertain, my niece has started to refer to herself as either a "doody factory" or a "poop factory" upon the production of a dirty diaper. hilarious.

in non-birthday and non-doody related news [noos]: i got nothing. it's friday, and i'm going to see ocean's 13 this evening. saw ocean's 11 on a first date with a former boyfriend, ocean's 12 pretty much crapped the bed...the fate of the ocean's legacy in my brain forever hinges on this third installment.

yesterday i gleefully sent my mother this recipe. today, she emailed back saying that a teacher at her school brought in some rhubarb so, "your assignment, should you choose to accept it..."
i believe the spirit of kitty grandma (my maternal grandmother) shall be dancing a jig over her granddaughter's new food project. happier, hopefully, than the time mom and i were making easter cookies and the porcelain cardinal fell off the shelf, a clear sign that we were being watched and should not omit the anise flavoring, no matter how much i complained. my grandmother was a brilliant cook and baker and certain things about her and her house will forever (hopefully) be inscribed into my brain: her yellow rice with mushrooms, the possum that temporarily moved into her porch, helping her pick strawberries in the back yard, getting stung by a hornet that nested in the front steps, seeing her drop a piece of chicken onto the floor while turning it over to see if it was done and unleashing a "sonofabitch!" -- the likes of which i've never heard again. her cat. her basement, lined with jars upon jars of home-canned fruits and vegetables. it was a veritable laboratory of food brilliant. going to the premiere of this movie -- in the town where she lived -- and the accompanying terror of sleeping in her house, or any house with windows, for at least a year. i've missed her everyday for eighteen years.

i feel old and sad. and anxiously awaiting that rhubarb.

they always go for the funny hats.

the man who jumped the popemobile today was described, on the morning news, as being "between twenty and thirty years of age with significant mental problems."

i believe that quote perfectly sums up my entire dating pool from the past 7 years.

(i shall refrain from making the obvious, "but at least the popemobile was jumped!" joke. but i may start wearing funny hats.)

pvd

just returned from vacation this week, feeling as though i'd never left. i hate that. the entire point of vacation is to escape, to rid yourself of the daily grind and mental anguish. i came back to my office only to find it in (typical) chaos and insanity. INSANITY. sad. ness. i want to cry on a continued basis for the degradation of our collective mental state.

that being said, i've found the perfect photo from vacation to sum up my return to work: