And then the dog hurled all over my Ed Hardy bag, my lap. and my groceries.

And that is how my day ended.

We drove the hour it takes to get to Dan's parent's house to spend the day helping out in the yard (SOOOOoooooo not my thing.  I WAY prefer houseplants, thank you... pulling weeds plays hell with my manicure).  I was a super good sport about it because I was promised coffee and donuts on the way and Olive Garden for dinner before we came home.
Woooo hoooo, I thought to myself.
I was as excited as the dogs about getting to go for a ride, after being stuck in this apartment for two bloody weeks.  I hung my head out of the window, violated the Amish with my camera, giggled and carried on at length about all the novelties of the north country landscape, and then....

We arrived at Dan's parent's house, where Dan had apparently led them to believe we were staying for dinner.  Mom had a ham cooking and was preparing a big family spread.  My dreams of Olive Garden plummeted and died as the smell of cured pork permeated the atmosphere.

Overall, it was a gorgeous day.  The weather could not have been more perfect, I lost three nails pulling weeds (I am a trooper, I am), went on a nice walk with the dogs and the girls, spent some time being their favorite aunt, and eventually sat down to an enormous ham dinner, which I politely ate.

At the head of the table sat K Dubya, Dan's dad.  He doesn't really have the pleasure of spoiling his grandchildren, since they live with him, so he spoils the crap out of our dogs.  Maisy and Javi wound up with more ham than we did, and after dinner, he LET THEM DRINK ALL THE GRAVY.

I saw disaster in my very near future as Javi stood in the dish and licked it clean and Maisy slinked around with her tail between her legs looking sick and miserable after more than eating her share.

We left for home and Maisy immediately passed out on my lap.  18 lbs of dead pug weight crushing my arm as we cruised through the hills and vales and then....

Yeah.

Regurgitated ham and gravy all over me, my purse, the groceries I had picked up on the way home, the seat of the truck, Javi....

Good times, y'all.  Good times.  I'm pretty sure ham is ruined for me forever..

Facebook Rant 4-29-11

Does anyone else get irritated by the spelling of Ginnifer Goodwin's name? Or is it just me?


According to my equally irritable followers, it ISN'T just me.  The way she spells her name drives me nuts.  I wouldn't recognize her if I ran over her with my car but I can't stand her because her name is spelled in a stupid way.  I mean really, would she have been less of an individual and less likely to succeed if they had just spelled it, oh, I dunno... Jennifer?  


Cute quirky spellings of absolutely normal names is a pet peeve of mine. 


Of course, when asked who the hell she is, my credibility took a hit when I responded that I don't actually KNOW... 
but there ya go.


Being unemployed, bored, and stuck in an apartment 3000 miles from where I actually want to be has driven me to make petty, shallow, possibly hurtful comments about celebrity names.  I would NEVER do this in California.  NEVER.  
NEVER. 

Land of the free... and the home of the buffet...

Since I've spent a long and lonely two weeks pretty much home by myself, I decided that Dan and I should venture out tomorrow and have a nice dinner in a nice restaurant where the drinks are as good as the food.  Since I'm generally leery of unfamiliar sounding places (and I refuse to eat "fresh seafood" in a place that is at least 5 hours from the closest ocean... I mean really, how fresh can it be?  It traveled at least 5 hours to get here, no?) I decided to look for an Olive Garden or an Applebees or at least something I've seen a commercial for in California. 
The University of Google proved helpful in showing me that I will be traveling for my dinner because....

the nearest "city" is Massena, NY.

Familiar restaurants in Massena, NY:
Wendys
McDonalds
Taco Bell
Pizza Hut
Dominos
Subway

Yeah, no.  Since none of those places serve alcohol, I'm pretty sure they're out.  (Though it's nice to know that there is a Taco Bell nearby, should I feel the need to make a run for the border in my near future.  Which I doubtlessly will.)

What was TRULY astounding were the number of buffets within the 20 mile search radius I typed in.  Northern New Yorkers like their buffets, yo.

Asian buffets, Italian buffets, seafood buffets, pizza buffets, generic hometown buffet-type buffets...  WOW.  All-you-can-eat is a HUGE selling point here!! 

Dan and I have gone to the Ponderosa twice since we've been here (he's gone more than that, but I digress).  It's $12 for an all-you-can-eat Hometown Buffet type meal.  One night, I kid you not, they featured All You Can Eat STEAK.  STEAK.  All you can eat STEAK.
How much steak can one person actually eat??????
I mean, all you can eat shrimp, ribs, wings, spaghetti... fine.  But STEAK?
(And yes, that's exactly what I said every 5 minutes. "STEAK?  All you can eat STEAK?  Who DOES that?"  No one found it as strange as I did.  But it's weird, right?  All you can eat STEAK?  And yeah... Dan ate a lot of steak.) 
(However, I must say, the carrot cake was worth every penny of the $12.  And it's a damn good thing, because that's pretty much all I ate.  Both times.) 

The bottom line (since I've totally lost my train of  thought) is that we are driving an hour and a half to Watertown, New York because dammit, I want Olive Garden.  And while the all-you-can-eat breadsticks and salad may qualify it as a buffet's second cousin, I don't care.  They serve booze.  I know it'll be good.  And I will get my money's worth, because Dan can (and will) eat a lot of breadsticks while I suck down enough alcohol to make me appreciate my surroundings.
You have NO idea how much I am looking forward to this.

You can take the girl out of California...

But really, you probably shouldn't.  Have you noticed that there are certain states that elicit an almost fanatical sense of pride in the natives?  Like Texas, for instance?  And weirdly enough, Alabama?  (I'm almost positive Alabama didn't have state pride until Lynard Skynard wrote their theme song... because really, why would they?) 
Well, California is also one of those states.  You just don't hear much about it because we don't feel the need to discuss it.  We just assume everyone knows it because they wish they were from California, too. 
Or maybe it's just me...? 
Either way, if you drag me across the counry and deposit me in rural upstate New York, odds are I'm not going to be happy.  (Except when I see the Amish.  That never gets old.  Love them!!)
Most of the people I've met here in "the Nawth Country" are.... ummmmmm... hmmm.  Not stylish, you might say.  And yes, shallow things like that bug me.  How hard is it to keep up with hair trends, for God's sake?  Just because you rocked your mullet and bimbo hair in high school doesn't mean it's still appropriate 30 years later. 
(I don't know why that's a big deal to me, it just is.  Don't judge me.  That's MY job.)
My biggest issues with this area (other than the hair) is that there is no ocean, no mountains, and no redwoods.  Also?  It's not California.  So when people ask me what I think of "the Nawth Country" I tell them. 
It's not making me popular.