Ghetto Truffle

Huzzah!

2008-06-20T10:37:00.002-04:00

I just like the picture below. The wee one cracks me up when she waves up her hands. This was taken at the Livery in downtown Benton Harbor. It was one of our pit stops on the way to Chi-town in May for the Donnelly baptism starring Jason as The Godfather.

Get Neil in NOW!!!!

2008-05-17T16:06:00.002-04:00

The Rock n' Roll Hall of Fame is an absolute joke. The choices each year are controlled by Jann Werner and his stooges from Rolling Stone magazine. Many acts have been overlooked: KISS, Moody Blues, Genesis and Carole King has only been inducted as a songwriter and not as a singer. "Tapestry" is one of the bestselling albums of all time!

But nothing is more ridiculous than the fact that Neil Diamond is not in the Hall. The Jewish Elvis! Not even as a songwriter from the legendary Brill Street.

You may laugh at this notion, but find me a drunk college kid that doesn't know "Sweet Caroline" and where to scream the crude alteration of the lyrics. That song is even played at Fenway Park. Here is a man who has written some of the most memorable songs in the last 40 years: I'm a Believer, Cherry Cherry, Cracklin' Rosie, Solitary Man, Kentucky Woman and etc... The guy has worked with Rick Rubin. His albums skyrocket to platinum and continues to sellout arenas. How can he not be in the HOF? Only the bumbling idiot Jann Werner knows.

The Candle Black Hole

2008-05-15T15:45:00.004-04:00

Last month, I made two attempts to purchase birthday candles for the hubby's birthday. One purchase was made at a D&W and the other at a Meijer. Something to top the Triple Chocolate Brownie tower I made for the celebration at my dad's and the Triple Chocolate Cheesecake (also made by moi) for his birthday at our house. It was a chocolate extravaganza. Both times the candles disappears once they were bagged. I watched both times as the cashier place them in the bag. However, with both times, when I got home the candles inexplicably disappear. I checked the car, garage, and the route from the garage to the kitchen. Must be a conspiracy or a hole in the space time continuum when it comes to birthday candle purchases...

Best songs ever

2008-05-07T13:36:00.002-04:00

We've all seen the lists of the best songs of such and such and those who know me are familiar with my rantings that all lists are crap. They are just so subjective. To prove this, I am going to list the top 20 songs ever! If you disagree with my choices, I honestly don't care to hear your comments. The following is not any particular order since I am doing this off the top of my head.

Rainbow Connection (Kermit the Frog)
Edelweiss (Sound of Music)
All Along the Watchtower (Jimi Hendrix)
Come Fly with Me (Frank Sinatra)
At Last (Etta James)
Sitting on the Dock of the Bay (Otis Redding)
Safety Dance (Men Without Hats)
Open Arms (Journey)
Hound Dog (Big Mama Thornton)
Mustang Sally (Wilson Pickett)
Hallelujah (Jeff Buckley)
I Could Have Danced All Night (My Fair Lady)
Prayer for St. Peter (Edwin McCain)
Let It Be (Beatles)
Painted Black (Rolling Stones)
Goodnight Saigon (Billy Joel)
What'll I Do (Judy Garland)
Cracklin' Rosie (Neil Diamond)
Weekend in New England (Barry Manilow)
That's All Right Mama (Elvis)

Free the...arms?

2007-09-10T13:49:00.000-04:00

One of the most difficult adjustments when it comes to parenthood is the loss of an arm. We're not talking amputation either. Little Audrey absolutely loves to be held...at all times. I have difficulty putting her down because within 5 minutes she realizes that she is not being held in my arms, wakes up, and starts whaling at the top of her lungs.

For most of the day she is attached to my left arm. I never knew how difficult it was to do the simplest tasks, such as brushing my teeth or taking birth control, with only one arm free. So far I have figured out how with one arm to fill & empty the dishwasher, do laundry, vacuum (sometimes I can get away with strapping her in the Baby Bjorn), clean the kitchen counters (using kiddie-safe cleaners), make a sandwich, toast and smear cream cheese on a bagel (she tends to squirm with this task) , wash out her bath tub when I bathe her solo, and put on dog collars (dogs are no longer allowed to wear their collars in the house).

As for showering, that's a whole other can of worms. That has to be timed perfectly when she naps. If not, oy, then she's shrieking by the time I begin to wash my hair.

And, I start work again on Friday without child care. This should be interesting.

Even with all that has been said in this blog post, I still love the little booger and don't regret having her.

Remembering that fateful day...

2007-08-30T09:59:00.000-04:00

At 12:03AM on June 25, I was awaken by a searing pain in my abdominal area. This was no Braxton-Hicks contraction. Figuring that there was no way I would be going back to sleep and I had some time on my hands until I actually needed to go to the hospital, I headed downstairs into the living room to watch some TV without letting Jason know what was going on. I watched Conan O'Brien and there were some pretty lame guests on Craig Ferguson and Carson Daly. My other alternatives were Guthy-Renker infomericals or porn on Cinemax. Since I needed a good laugh, I chose porn on Cinemax. Nothing like terrible dialogue & acting, coupled with unrealistic situations to bring about sex for a good chuckle. Then I noticed "The 40-Year Old Virgin" was on, so I flipped it to that.

I was experiencing inconsistent contractions every 5 or 10 minutes. Halfway through the movie, at about 2:30, I went up to let Jason know that the real deal was going on. "Do I need to get up?" he said. "No", I replied. "Good, Jay need his sleepies" was his response and he promptly went back to sleep.

After Virgin was over with, there was truly nothing on and my contractions were inconsistent still. Might as well get some work done! Made myself a cup of decaf tea, cracked open my laptop, responded to some e-mail, and put some finishing touches on some projects I was working on. Jason rose out of bed at 6:45AM and came downstairs to check on me. He asked if he should stay home and without hesitation I told him to stay put.

Jason made me go back to bed to rest up for when the "real deal" occurred and he logged into his laptop to work from home. However, he did set-up my laptop in our bedroom and brought up a walkie-talkie to let him know if I needed anything. The day was pretty uneventful. Between naps, I did a little work on my laptop, Jason brought up my usual lunch (PB&J and a glass of water) and the dogs snuck in to catch a nap beside me. Jason spent his day working in the newly finished basement and put up blinds during his breaks.

By 3:30PM, I was getting pretty fed up with the inconsistent contractions that I called my doctor's office. They told me I needed to wait longer... 5:30 rolls around and the contractions were intensifying. They made is difficult to eat the delicious beef ravioli dinner Jason made. I never felt such pain before. There is no way to describe them, only that they absolutely suck. We started watching "Studio 60..." episodes and halfway through second one we were watching, I get up to use the bathroom. All I could see was blood. It was about 7:00 and I had Jason call the doctor and left a message. It took about 15 minutes for the doctor on call to return his phone call. But, in the end, I had to go to hospital. Finally!!!

Jason calls his mom to let her know to come out and watch the dogs. We pile into the Envoy and off we go to the hospital. Well, we had been to the hospital a few times, but Jason was in some mindset that he was going to work and didn't get into the correct lane to make the left onto Michigan. Since we couldn't scoot over to the correct lane, Jason went straight. He turned to me and asked which way he should go. "How the Hell should I know?!?! You work downtown and I don't!" And, I proceeded to call him a dumbass. Really not appropriate, but for Pete's sake! If you never been to Grand Rapids, most of the downtown roads are blocked off for construction. Jason made a few turns that didn't work out, but we eventually made to the ER entrance.

We eventually made it to the OB triage. There, we were "greeted" by a nurse and quickly began barraging us with a million and one questions. The only questions I remember were "Do you want an epidural?" Yes. "When?" Now. Then, she needed to check to see how much I was dilated, which by the way, is pretty uncomfortable. The nurse had trouble figuring it out and had to get another nurse to see how much I dilated. By 7:45PM, I was dilated to 4cm and I was officially admitted into the hospital and taken to a birthing room.

Once in the birthing room, we met our nurse that was assigned to us and she started to prep me for an IV. She could not do it to save her life. It hurt worse than a contraction! She finally gave up and the anesthesiologist, who was waiting patiently to administer the epidural, had to put in the IV. When it came to administering the epidural, it was a really uncomfortable experience. It doesn't hurt per se, just a lot of pressure against your spine until that lovely medicine makes it way into your spinal fluid. Once it takes full effect, it is one magical drug.

When you are in the birthing room, it is pretty boring. A lot of waiting. Jason made a few phone calls, the nurse came in to check on me, and I watched a little TV. Jason and I tried to get some sleep in, but it was difficult. One of the machines I was hooked up to would beep every 15-20 minutes. By midnight, I was asked to start pushing. Yeah, lets get this kid out of me!!! I would push for 15 minutes, even though one of the stirrups was broken and ultimately hurt my leg, and then I would rest for an hour. One thing they never mentioned in the pre-natal classes or the pregnancy books is the shaking. My hormones went in a tailspin and I was shaking uncontrollably. Jason was a trooper through this and had no problem being in the trenches.

At 5AM, I was visited by the doctor on call. He examined me and determined that it would be difficult for me to deliver vaginally. The baby was "sunny-side up" and my pelvic area did not expand correctly. It was like trying to put a square peg through a round hole. A C-section was proposed and I agreed. They rolled me into the OR and Jason would follow later. More drugs were administered. With Jason and the anesthesiologist at my sides, at 6AM on the dot, baby Audrey Violet was born. I wasn't able to hold her for another hour and half due to the shaking, but it was well worth the wait.

Indulging the Inner Fat Ass

2007-03-25T21:04:00.000-04:00

It's been awhile since I've last posted something in this blog. Just had more important things to do such as sit and watch TV, read a multitude of baby-related books where I won't remember a damn thing by the time the Lil' booger is born, and trying to maintain my sanity.

One thing that I have noticed since I got knocked up by Senor Super Sperm is people want to keep shoving food in your face. Before Triple S and I decided to bring a third into the picture, I decided that when we got pregnant that I would not want to be one of those women who uses the excuse that she is eating for two to justify an extra serving of cake. Heck, by the second trimester you're only suppose to eat an extra 300 calories a day. That's it!

Now that we're 27 weeks into this, I can say I have been really good by sticking to the 300 calories, but I do have my moments. This is what I have been referring to as "indulging the inner fat ass." We all have that little voice that prods us to eat the extra cookie, order a double cheeseburger with fries, take an extra scoop of ice cream. Normally, you can suppress this voice because you know better. When your pregnant it's a whole different deal. The little voice turns into a bull horn and you have the uncontrollable urge to indulge the inner fat ass. So instead of giving Triple S a hard time for ordering 4 boxes of Girl Scout cookies from his boss, all I could say is that they wouldn't last the weekend once they crossed the house threshold. You can fight the voice and you must indulge the inner fat ass.

The Aftermath

2007-01-27T21:29:00.000-05:00

Last weekend, we held our annual winter poker tournament. As usual, many people show up for a few days of drunken revelry and cards. It was a little weird this time, being pregnant and all. To be honest, it kinda sucked not being able to drink. Miss the golden frothy brew that is beer. Oh well, a small sacrifice to make. It was interesting to see the weekend with sober eyes. Witness the accidents involving the Wii; intimate relations with a card table; drunken arguments over religion, literature, politics, and etc...

What people don't see who attend is interesting state the house is left once everyone leaves. I'm not complaining. Actually, at times it's pretty funny what we find...well after a little while it becomes funny. Over the years, we've encountered a beer cans full of chew spit, crunchy spot on the XBOX room floor (and no one played the XBOX that night), cracked window, and one year we even found a chunk of poo next to the toilet. This year as we started our usual cleaning routine, I took one look at the half bath and was perplexed at what I saw on the wall. It was some type of chunky liquid that was about 6 feet up and dribble down to the floor. No clue if it was a drink, vomit, or worse diarrhea. All one can do is break out the cleaner with bleach. Whatever it was, I don't want to know.

No Sleep for the Wicked

2007-01-10T03:52:00.000-05:00

Ah, another side effect of pregnancy...no sleep. Since about week 10 I have struggled to sleep through the night. I cannot get comfortable for the life of me. With my ever expanding gut and the accompanying sounds and cramps, makes it difficult to settle in a position. Coupled with the fact that it is encouraged that you sleep on your left side for good blood flow to the fetus, my hips are giving me issues as well. Apparently, there are gimmicky products out there such as the "pregnancy pillow", as well as recommended pillow positioning. However, with the photos I have seen on the positioning, the woman is on a huge pile of pillows, essentially leaving no room for the husband or significant other. Another recommendation I have seen include sleeping in a recliner. The prospect of sleeping on a cold, leather recliner does not scream of comfort, no matter how much I like it.

I guess this lack of sleep is preparation for when the lil booger makes his/her appearance this summer.

Phat and pregnant

2007-01-02T21:40:00.000-05:00

Well if you haven't heard the news or don't read my husband's blog, I'm preg-o. Whomever said that being pregnant is the best experience should be shot. Even though I'm into my second trimester, I am still enduring nausea, migraines, fatigue (a smidge of my energy is back, but not much), and the oh so lovely gag reflex when I brush my teeth. Get to see my breakfast every morning. Woohoo, is that banana...

I'm painting a very lovely picture of pregnancy, aren't I? My flat stomach is now a distant memory. Baby got back, but I had a flat stomach, alas it is now gone. I feel like when I walk into the bathroom, I am reenacting a pregnant version of the intro to "Alfred Hitchcock Presents.." When he would walk on-screen, you would see his gut first...

I now just chaulk it up to a means to an end. This is something we have been wanting for a while, so if I have to endure this misery, I will. However, I am taking everyone else with me... Gotta spread the love.

Versus Lawnmower Part II

2006-10-01T20:58:00.000-04:00

Today I had to mow the lawn...I hate mowing the lawn...

First obstacle before I was to even start the mower was to remove the bag. Jason left it on when he last used it. As soon as I took the sucker off, I quickly noticed that grass was completely jammed underneath. There was enough grass to sod our last house!

As usual, I started in the back. With the recent weather we've been having, it's been difficult to mow the grass with the lawn dry. It was a friggin swamp in the back of the lot. The lawnmower decided to cut out only three times. Very surprising. So it seems that after my last encounter with the lawnmower from Hell, we have reached a detente.

Latest Music in Car

2006-09-30T22:06:00.000-04:00

I recently created a new MP3 disc to play in my hoo-ride. Lately, I have had Amos Lee and The Czars in pretty heavy rotation. Sidenote: I just happened to see that the The Czars postponed a concert earlier this year at Kraftbrau in K'zoo, might be an interesting place to see them. Good beer, from what I remember... had many different beers that day at Bell's, Peninsula, and then Kraftbrau. Anyway, from Amos Lee, I really enjoy the songs "Colors", "Soul Suckers", and "Arms of a Woman". With The Czars, I can't get past "Paint the Moon". Whenever that kicks on, I throw it on repeat. It's that good.

Anyway, earlier in the summer Jason and I and the Hammies went to Interlochen to see Guster and Ray LaMontagn e (check out the NPR link and click on Listen - it's 30+ minutes long) which are both on the same MP3 disc. Fabulous concert, although not too many people paid attention to Ray LaMontagne, he did put on an excellent set. He is one of the better singers out there today. I couldn't find footage from this show, but I did find some from the following day when he played Meadowbrook. His first CD Trouble has been in heavy rotation since I got it last year. I recently received Till the Sun Turns Black. However, it's not as good as Trouble, but I really enjoy the songs "Can I Stay" and "Three More Days." While in Interlochlen, it would have been nice to have seen his entire set, but it was nice to get caught up with the Hammies at dinner. Although, he is playing the Scottish Rite Cathedral (Masonic) in Detroit later this year.

Been a while

2006-09-29T20:42:00.000-04:00

Realize this evening that I haven't written a post for quite some time. Not that anybody read this thing. Jason is gone, yet again, to the land of Paprika Pringles and Moretti.

Nothing much has been going on in ye olde household. The dogs and I really know how to paint the town red while he is gone. They're upstairs sleeping and I'm watching "I Love the 80s : Strikes Back" marathon on VH1. Woohoo!!

Is it me or is that new Gap commercial with Audrey Hepburn blows monkey chunks?!?!?

Guttenberg!

Speed

2006-08-15T21:42:00.000-04:00

After throwing an action-pack baby shower for the Jacksons this past weekend, I had a wee bit of a hangover that reminded me of the movie Speed. Instead of being on a bus maintaining the speed of 55mph in order for it to not blow-up, the following day after the party I was afraid to stop cleaning for a moment or I might throw-up.

Wasps

2006-07-04T21:21:00.000-04:00

What is it with the wasps this year?!?!?!? Last year, I removed only 4 nests around my yard - the whole friggin' year. This weekend I removed 7! Absolutely ridiculous.

Nuisance

2006-07-03T20:43:00.000-04:00

Ugh, for the month or so I have been dealing with an absolute annoyance. Those that know me well know that I detest bugs. I get psycho if I even see one in the house. My husband got so tired of seeing bug guts on the wall, he bought me a bug zapper thingy from Oreck. It works, but for the latest nemesis, it doesn't. Millipedes. Today I killed 5 and found a dead one curled up in the living room. I have found these things in my kitchen, upstairs bedroom, even in the toilet. Guess that one wanted to end his life early before I snuffed it for him.

Included into today's kills was a nest of wasps. Second I've taken out this week and it's only Monday.

Mayflower

2006-07-02T21:54:00.000-04:00

I have been reading the Mayflower by Nathaniel Philbrick and I find it interesting that the Pilgrims left England to attain religious freedom in the New World; however, they persecuted those in Plymouth who did not share their same beliefs. Can we say "hypocrites?!?!?"

Holiday Weekend

2006-07-01T21:04:00.000-04:00

The Fourth of July weekend is upon us and I get to spend it alone. Reoccuring theme here isn't it? I know my husband would rather be home than stuck in a hotel room (with no air conditioning) in a country where he doesn't speak the language. Keep telling myself that this is only temporary. Well after this weekend, one of the dogs will become petrified to go outside after dark. Fireworks absolutely terrify her. Speaking of the dogs, this weekend also marks another important date for us: the dogs' birthday. Our little monkeys turn 5 on July 3rd. The celebration is pretty much the same every year. Each dog gets their own Arby's Roast Beef sandwich. Hands down their favorite meal. And, if my fingers are still intact, they get a cupcake. One likes to roll her cupcake over and smash the icing into the floor to lick it up later. Very gross, but it makes her happy. The other dog you have to watch because he'll swallow it whole. But, he's a good phat boy.

Must think of what to get them for their birthday.

Sharon vs. the Lawnmower

2006-07-01T12:07:00.000-04:00

[To Lawnmower] I don't like you and you don't like me, but goddamnit we need to work together to get the damn grass mowed!

It's no surprise that I hate mowing the lawn. Luckily, I have a husband that enjoys doing this arduous chore. However, he's in Italy and it needs to get done. It had gotten to the point where you couldn't make out one our dogs standing in the backyard.

After a day of working from home and wallowing in my own stank (didn't feel like showering, let alone changing out of my PJs), it was decided that the lawn had to be mowed. Jason mowed it before he left, so it had been about a week and half since the lawnmower touched the grass. For most people, it would have been fine, but for us, it is a whole other story. I have no clue why, but the grass in the back grows at an exponential rate and is usually two to three times higher than the front yard.

I decided to tackle the backyard first. Get out there and do my thing. Since the grass is so high, the lawnmower backs up and stops quite a few times. It seems that you are always restarting it. I was halfway through the backyard and it cuts out for the hundredth time; I attempted to start it again and, after 8 pulls, it wouldn't start. Check underneath it and there is not a clog to be found. Tried starting it again, no luck. From there, I checked the gas level. It was low, but not empty. However, I fill it anyway. Again, tried to start it with no luck. Checked the oil and it was a little low, so I fill it up. No luck starting. I drag the damn lawnmower back to the garage and decided to give it one last pull. Damn thing rises from the dead. Drag it back to the backyard and finish mowing the lawn.

I hate mowing the lawn and the lawnmower is a sadistic son-of-a-b*tch.

Damn you to Hell lawnmower.

Back from Albany

2006-06-25T17:48:00.000-04:00

I recently returned from a business trip from Albany, NY...Uneventful, except for the trip home. My meeting finished early and I made several attempts to catch an earlier flight home. Boy, the Continental Airlines 800 number sucks. Spent a grand total of 69 minutes on hold for a 2 minute conversation with a customer service rep that didn't want to help me out. All I wanted to do was get home early to see my husband before he left for, yet another, business trip to Italy on Sunday for 10 days.

Since the 800 number was a bust, I figured I would go to the airport early and standby for the earlier flight. The receptionist at the office ordered the taxi with my request to pick me up at 2. It didn't get to the office until 3. Apparently, the original taxi broke down and I got the back-up. But, it took a friggin' hour... So that nixed my plans on getting on the earlier flight. My 6:30 flight left on time for Cleveland and from there, catch my connecting flight to Grand Rapids, which was to leave at 8:50. Get into Cleveland and find the departure gate. Everything was "on time". 8:50 comes and goes and the departure time changes to 9:17 and then 9:45. The plane was at the gate, but there was no crew... At 10:30, they arrive. Didn't leave Cleveland until 11:15, arriving in Grand Rapids at midnight. The flight attendant was sympathetic and he bought the flight a round of drinks, except for the pilots, and shook each persons hand, personally apologizing for the late departure before we landed.

But the story doesn't end there...As I exit the plane, I could hear sirens coming from the waiting area of the GR airport. The damn security locked the only exit out of the terminal even with 3 flights arriving into the airport. Someone tried to lift the gate up, causing the alarm to go off. Took 10 minutes for security to stop the alarm and lift the gate. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR........Finally, head home and my husband narrowly hit two deer near the entrance of the subdivision. By 12:30 a.m., Saturday, I was home...

Peter Crouch

2006-06-19T13:18:00.001-04:00

Being the usual ignorant American in an Italian bar in Turin. Well, it was an English-style pub that served Mexican. Anyway, the England vs. Jamaica soccer game was on and, my husband and I, were introduced to the dance stylings of the striker Peter Crouch. Scoring three times in his lanky 6 foot, 7 inch frame. The Robot is back.

Where's the Starbucks?

2006-06-08T06:34:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I left from Turin after spending five fabulous days with my husband. My husband was kind enough to let me use some of his frequent flyer miles to get a ticket close to gratis to meet up with him in Italy. I was so happy to see him greet me at the gate. However, I did initially miss him standing right in front of me. Then he stepped into my view and in my grill. What a sight for sore eyes!!! I miss the bugger when he is away! It was an odd vacation though. For two of those days, my husband had to work and I was on my own. For the most part, I usually have someone with me when I vacation and it felt a little odd touring through Turin, while my husband toiled at work for 10 hours each day. And, with the language barrier there was a little anxiety trying to convey what I needed to those I encountered. But, I did OK. As long as you could use “Euro, Taxi, or Café”, it was easy to communicate.

My caffeine addiction was easily satisfied while in Italy. Just like in Seattle, coffee was accessible every 10 feet – although no Starbuck’s to be found, but Italians can easily survive without having that chain invade their country. Bad enough McDonald’s has a presence.

While in Turin, with my husband, on my first real day (I passed out from exhaustion on Day 1) we toured the Cinema Museum and enjoyed seeing the collection that was housed there, including the original Superman cape from the 1978 movie with Christopher Reeve and a few of the original masks from Star Wars. After the museum, we walked along the river Po and had enjoyed a few beers. We continued through the city center of Turin to see what shopping the city had to offer. We happened upon an English-style pub that served Mexican fare. Oh, how Jason was happy. Fajitas were the order for his day. We also watched England trounce Jamaica with several other British folks at the very same pub. The following day, the time change caught up with me and I didn’t get up until 12:30. I felt terrible since Jason was up at 8:30. I quickly cleaned up and we went to the same pub for lunch and took in the Regional National Museum of Natural Science, as well as a walked through a different section of the city.

Monday was my first day all by my lonesome. However, I did have breakfast with my main man, and we did have dinner at a nice restaurant; of course, I got half my dinner on my shirt – that’s to be expected. But, since many things were closed that day, I decided to get some work done (yes, I’m pathetic), get caught up on my e-mails, and did a little research to plan my itinerary for the following day.

Tuesday was a packed day. After breakfast with my honey, I took a taxi to the Museum of the Holy Shroud. There was no way I could have found it on my own. It is located in a non-descript building, in an equally non-descript alleyway. And, I was the only one there. Felt weird. Prior to my visit, I only knew 3 things about Turin: the types of food native to the area, the Winter Olympics were here, and the Shroud of Turin. Thought I would get stuck in the middle of a geriatric bus tour of the Piedmont region. And, you would figure a few Bible thumpers would have moseyed on in. The Italian docents were eager to help me out, but only one spoke English, but it was very broken English. Hey, she tried and I can’t fault her for that. They must have been bored since I had 4 docents helping me out. So I got to watch a movie about the analysis of the Shroud by myself and then did the self-paced tour holding a crude walk-talkie type device to my ear listening to a woman with a thick British accent. It was quite evident that no one previewed the recording prior to giving the recordings to the museum. At one point, the narrator asked if she could “do it again.”

After the museum, I went a little out of my way to the Café Bicerin, home of the bicerin (unique coffee drink with chocolate with a latte foam). I was still full from breakfast so I just had an espresso and a piece of dark chocolate. This place was touted as having some of the best chocolate in the city, but I was not a fan. From the café, I walked a bit to the Palazzo Reale to see the Royal Library and Royal Armory. However, both were closed despite the sign on the door stating otherwise. I meandered a little bit around the Palazzo Reale and then headed off to my next destination. The Egyptian Museum was the biggest pain in the ass to find!!! I got lost 4 different times trying to locate it. It is in a non-descript alleyway. The Egyptian Museum has the largest collection of Egyptian antiquities outside of Cairo. After walking through the museum for over 2 hours, you get a little mummied, sarcophagused, statued, canopic jared, steled –out. I was out and about for 5 hours and my feet were killing me. Headed back to the Italian “ranch” and put my feet up for a bit.

Once I was rested, I went to the grocery store near the hotel and picked up some gifts. Truly surprised as to how cheap olive oil and premium coffee are in Italy. Even with the exchange rate! For my sister’s troubles (i.e. my two little monsters), I picked her up the largest bottle of Limoncello I could find. Last evening, Jason and I, along with one his co-workers, went to a little pizza joint not terribly far from the hotel. It was decent, but I have had better.

Yesterday morning Jason woke me up at 3:35 (as in AM) to get ready to leave at 4:25. Turin airport is a small regional airport, something you would see outside major cities. It is small and easy to navigate and has a few shops in case you need to get a little shopping done.

However, Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris is a whole other can of worms. Easily the worst airport ever!!! My connecting flights to and from the States were through this airport and had the exact same experience. When you land at CDG, you have to hop on a shuttle, where it takes you is anyone’s guess. And, Parisians are terrible drivers. On my connecting flight in, the shuttle bus I was on tried to beat an airplane taking off. I don’t think I need to further explain this aspect of the story. The signage is terrible and with all of the construction surrounding the airport, signs pointing you in the “right” direction are in French. I put “right” in quotes since I encountered a few signs that pointed to a wall or a baggage chute. Both times I had to exit the airport and re-enter and go through security again to get to the correct terminal. And, you walk a giant circle to get to the correct terminal – roughly 2 miles hoofing it. The gates are cramped and there is not enough seating to support the number of passengers waiting for flights. I was only able to sit a mere 5 minutes before my flight was called after waiting over an hour on my feet. I did get a chuckle while waiting for my connecting flight into Turin. It was delayed and the airline apologized for their “incompetence.”

To reach the gate for my connecting flight to Detroit, oy, took forever getting from Terminal 2D to Terminal 2E, then try and figure out which gate it was flying out of, and trying to find the security checkpoint to get to said gate was a pain in the keister. Once I got past security, I thought I could merrily walk to the correct gate. Oh nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, boy was I mistaken. I had to take another shuttle. Fourteen gates are situated away from the main airport, one of which I needed. The shuttle went around the airport twice and finally dropped us off which seemed like the middle of nowhere. This section of the airport was relatively small. Has a regional airport feel. Simply has the 14 gates, 2 duty free shops, a souvenir / magazine stand, and a café/bar. I can see why, while looking through the duty free shop, the reason people would need to buy an Absolut Variety Pack (4 different flavors) and a 3-pack of Johnny Walker (with its own carrying case, I might add) after experiencing this airport. The amenities in the section were enough to keep me preoccupied and satisfy my caffeine addiction.

And, today, I turn 30. Quite indifferent to that fact.

Bored in Ada

2006-04-28T20:51:00.000-04:00

Well it's Friday night in Ada and I am bored....

Husband is off again in Italy and being in GR, just the right recipe for boredom.

Sat and watched the "Insider's List with Julie Moran" on Breweries and NO PROPS to Michigan brews. They didn't even mention Chicago's Goose Island Brewery. Therefore, the list is crap. The number 1 brewery listed was from Los Angeles and the brewer mocked stouts. What brewer in his/her right mind would mock such a noble beer?!?!? That brewer is crap. On a snowy, winter evening, what is better than a nice frothy stout to cap off the day?!?!? Obviously, the people who did the "research" for this show didn't bother checking out Bell's, New Holland, Atwater, or, how could I forget the Royal Oak Brewery. But, in the end all lists are crap.

Sick and Alone in Ada

2006-03-13T10:11:00.000-05:00

While my husband is off overseas in Italy working, I am home alone...sick. This just sucks. Nose is running like a water faucet, lips are drier than the Sahara, and my throat feels like I've swallowed nails for fun. At least I have my dogs for entertainment. They are unique puppies that can keep anyone entertained. Grant it, their constant need for attention gets to be a little annoying after a while, but the annoyance is shortlived. They make mistakes, which is bound to happen, and they keep me on my toes. Plus, they provide a sense of security. No one gets through the house without passing inspection from the puppies.

For now, I get to curl on the couch under the glow of my laptop and conduct work for a little while as a distraction from my ever-growing list of symptoms.

Welcome to Ghetto Truffle!

2006-03-04T12:19:00.000-05:00

From Merriam-Webster Online (www.m-w.com):

ghetto (n): an isolated group b : a situation that resembles a ghetto especially in conferring inferior status or limiting opportunity

truffle (n): a candy made of chocolate, butter, sugar, and sometimes liqueur shaped into balls and often coated with cocoa.

You may be scratching your head: "what's with ghetto truffle?" It all started one day while I was whipping up a batch of homemade truffles. My first attempt. To make a long story short, I screwed up when it came to rolling the chocolate into the traditional truffle shape. The chocolate was too firm, so I gave up, broke up the chocolate into chunks and dipped the chunks into the unsweetened chocolate. Given their misshapen shape, my husband declared them "ghetto truffles".

And, being a liberal from the Detroit-area, living in West Michigan, well...