You Say It's Your Birthday

So Zandy turned 60 this weekend. Not really, but I love to mess with him. Believe me, I get as good as I give. Evidence of this follows. We celebrated...um...pretty much not at all. I don't think going to lunch on Saturday at our neighborhood Chinese buffet (shout out to Lotus Garden!) counts, especially since Alex's favorite thing to do before we venture over to the joint is to yell out at our cat, "Gizmo, we're off to eat your relatives!" Mmm-hmmm, that's muh Zandy. He used to refer to their chicken kabobs as "rat-on-a-stick." Eventually, I just gave up and quit eating them. The reference stirred too much of a visual for me to actually partake any longer. He also refers to their egg drop soup as "snot stew." Yes, I, too, wonder why I actually agree to go there with him . Like I said, I love to mess with him but, in the words of five-year-olds everywhere, he started it! Yeah, we are screwed up but somehow it works. I do not question this. Does one question why the world goes 'round? Okay..well, some people actually do. But I don't. I find questioning complicated things usually leads to really long and boring answers that I tend to fog out on about halfway through and begin fantasizing about, like, the new gourmet flavors of Pringles or something. So I mean, really, do we want me pondering? I thought not.

Where was I? Oh yeah, the birthday un-celebration. So we didn't do anything. And, equally offensive, I didn't get him anything either. Well, here's the deal. Alex is notorious for living a very simple lifestyle. If the dude decides he wants something, he just goes out and gets it. Yeah, it puts a serious cramp on gift giving. So this year I basically just said, "Hey, is there anything you really want because, ya know, we're pretty poor, and I'm not into frantically searching my brain for gift ideas. Say, how 'bout a cake and some lovin'?" He was totally down with this idea. His cake of choice was German Chocolate. His lovin' of choice is totally none of your business! God! Pervs! :)

Below you'll find a pic of his cake, which I made from scratch. Yes, from scratch! Yeah, like sifted flour and sugar and eggs and stuff. I know, I'm like friggin' Martha Stewart over here or somethin'. Too bad baking is the only thing Martha-like that I do. Other than that, it's Banquet chicken pot pies, Kraft mac-n-cheese, and dead plants in flower pots all the way.

This is the Zandy's German Chocolate birthday cake.

Alex diggin' into a hearty slice o' cake.

I made the cake using a recipe from my all-time fav cookbook. Fannie Flagg, the author of Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe, wrote it, and if you're looking for southern comfort food, this is the cookbook for you. All of the recipes are really bad for you- tons of fat and salt and calories- really freakin' out-of-this-world delicious, and guaranteed to put you into cornary arrest or diabetic coma. Choose your poison. There's a coconut cake recipe that is soooooo delightfully sinful. I salivate just thinking of it. Seriously. I've tried to remember how long I've had this cookbook, and I remember making recipes from it back when I lived on Chestnut Street, which marks it at about a decade. That's the sign of a good cookbook, my friends.

It just so happens that Alex and our nephew J.T. have the same birthday, so on Sunday, we went over to Ted and Molly's to help J.T. celebrate. This was an actual celebration with cake and gifts. Then we all got to watch four grown men struggle through trying to figure out how to actually transform a Transformer. Riveting stuff. Aside from this, the main entertainment was listening to Max, who's eight, moan and groan over the Saints' loss. We all promptly informed him that if he's going to be a Saints fan, he'd better get used to this or find some other team to support. Here are some pics from J.T.'s party.

The Birthday Boys

"I'm this many!" Well, not really. He's three. Cut him some slack.

Wish I was still this excited to blow out birthday candles. So cute!

And now, we feast!

Really, if you can't gorge yourself with cake on your third birthday, when can you?

Mary Grace woke up just in time to celebrate.

Next week, we're off to Gulf Shores, Alabama, for the annual Mottram Thanksgiving shin-dig. I'll tell you all about it, I promise. Until then, I hope all of you, my fav peeps, have a super Thanksgiving overdosing on tryptophan. I know I will!

Hells Yeah!

So the mayor went up to Mufreesboro, Tennessee, this past Saturday to watch the Cajuns take on the Middle Tennessee Blue Raiders. He reported on the awesome time he had tailgating with some of the Raider fans he's met through Ragin' Pagin. He claims that, aside from Cajun fans of course, the MTSU fans are the most welcoming and genial bunch of gridiron fanatics he's ever had the pleasure to meet. But the best part of the trip, he said, was the Cajuns' VICTORY! Yeah, that's right. That's no misprint, my peeps. They won! In style, I must say, with a score of 34-24. Start the chant- Save the season! Save the season! Save the season! 'Kay, that might be a little optimistic. Maybe...Salvage what remains of your dignity! Salvage what remains of your dignity! Salvage what remains of your dignity! Nah...save the season has a much better ring to it, even if it is statistically impossible. All kidding aside, I would be really ecstatic if they managed to win their last two games. 4-8 is better than 2-10 any day, am I right? What follows are pics that Daddy sent me of his fine time partying with the Blue Raider Nation.

Pops doing "The Roostah!"

This is the "Hillbilly Hilton," a pimped out school bus that is a landmark at MTSU tailagting.

This is garbage can cooked turkey. This is a new one on me. Dad said it was delicious; the man knows his food, so I'll take his word for it.

KajunRaider and his band of merry Raider fans seem to be just as serious about their tailgating as the Krewe de Chew is. That's a big ole table full o' food! Yum!

Here's to the Cajuns and your team winning this weekend! Who loves ya best, fav peeps? :) Lil' ol' me- that's who! :) Hope you guys have a terrific rest of the week!

Hail to the Chief; He's the Chief That Must be Hailed!

So during a break from working on a project today (kill me, now!), I headed over to the ABC News website to complete their Match-o-Matic quiz. The quiz provides you with your "best match" in a presidential candidate. Based on the issues, of course, not things like "enjoys eating Pringles, reading Perez Hilton and online shopping at JCrew, just like you do!" They don't have that kind of candidate, unfortunately. So I kind of just randomly went through and clicked answers. Some stuff I really wasn't sure about, so I chose the answer that had the biggest words. My theory was this: big words = smart person answer. Mmmm-hmmm, I know...I think the same thing all the time- tell me again how the hell this chick got into a graduate school? But I digress. My point? Ah! The results were friggin' over-the-top awesome! Guess! Guess! Guess! You know who it is, right?

My new main man, freakin' Dennis Kucinich! Yes, the one who keeps rearing his ugly head at me in random ways. Like when I grabbed an Esquire magazine to read while on the treamill, and there was an in-depth interview with the guy, which I quickly devoured with glee. Turns out, Dennis has so many more attributes than just the mojo to nab a hot lady. Diet? Vegan, naturally. Celebrity best friend? Shirley "I love aliens!" MacLaine. And so much more. Sibling with arrest record/psychopathologic diagnosis? Check! Been the target of an assassination plot? Check! Tried to impeach Dick Cheney? Check! Took on "The Man"? Check!

I looooooooove this dude. I mean, my God, the man is from Cleveland for crying out loud! Next to Indians baseball, Dennis Kucinich is the most entertaining thing out of Cleveland, Ohio, (home of people whom I like to stereotype as dancing to polka music, eating kielbasa, and engaging in bowling leagues regularly) in years...decades...hell, centuries!

And now I offer up a prayer to baby Jesus that a miracle will occur and "Kuccy," as I like to call him, will end up as the Democratic nominee. It'll be the best presidential election EVER! It'll be like, like, like, the Being Bobby Brown of presidential elections. Please, oh please, oh please!

Be with me on this one, my peeps! Support a poor girl's dream!

Hoops Time!

So I really don't have time to do this, but it's been a while since I posted, and I know you guys miss me. Hey, I heard that! Pipe down in the peanut gallery over there.

Anyway, tonight, after class, I did what I shouldn't have done because I don't have the time to do it and headed over to the Cajundome to check out the first men's basketball game of the season. Okay, so it was an exhibition game, but those are the best ones, right? Everybody plays, and it's a guaranteed win. In the midst of the asstastic football season we're having, it's even sweeter. And, oh my, I must not forget to mention that the mayor and first lady (the bestest, most awesomest, most generous, loving 'rents on the planet) ponied up for season tickets for Alex and me since we can no longer afford it. I know, I know! They're fan-friggin-tastic, people!

I only got to see the second half, but this team will be better than last year's. That's not saying much if you know anything about last year's team, but still. They're very young but very athletic. I saw glimpses of greatness, I swear. Not that it matters because, barring death by insane professors seeking overdue papers, I will have my tired old booty parked in a bright orange bleacher seat for every game. This is due to the fact that I love, love, love Cajun basketball season. I will now list my top ten reasons for adoration:
1. Cold beer!
2. It's inside so you don't have to worry about weather conditions messin' with your 'do if you're a chick like me.
3. Mmmmmmmm...beer!
4. There's constant entertainment. During time outs, you get to watch the cheerleaders cheer and the Ragin' Jazz dance. And I don't care what anyone says, the dude on the Jazz is the best dancer of the bunch. Geaux, Kyle, shake what ya momma gave ya!
5. Frosty 24 ounce beers!
6. Hot roasted peanuts that you can shell and eat and spew all over the place when you scream and yell and cheer. Bonus points for being able to throw the detritus onto the floor and not even get in trouble.
7. Dome foam, baby! (That's beer.)
8. Alex will attend and, at points, even uncross his arms to clap. This is Alex in his excited mode. It is something to behold.
9. The acoustics in the Cajundome are phenomenal. You can hear Coach Lee having a coronary all the way up in the second level. A grown man throwing a fit over sports is freakin' fun to watch...from a distance...even when your team is losing.
10. Did I mention you can drink lots of beer?

On another front, damn you Darren Mack! The dude pleaded out! This totally cramps my usual "at least I'm not that guy" coping mechanism. A**hole. I so wanted to see that jury convict that cretin. Then again, I was thinking the same thing at the end of the O.J. trial, so what a cracker know anyway?

Have a super-duper rest of the week, fav peeps!

Short but sweeeeet!

Leave it to Bud Light's advertising geniuses to figure out a way to convey the greatness of the word dude. Their beer sucks, but their commercials rock.


'Member those comments I made about Dennis Kucinich? Well, it seems while I was pondering the lil' man's mojo, writers at The Daily Show were pondering the implications of a hot lady in the White House. Good stuff.



Happy All Saints Day, you're welcome, and now, hopefully, you have the strength to finish out the week.