Does this attitude make my butt look big?

I think I've mentioned before how one of my bosses/The Dude's aunt enjoys buying my affections. Yesterday she sent me to her favorite boutique store once again. Apparently she felt I needed some new slacks. My holey jeans are not cutting it in her book.

I role up to the shop and all 3 parking spots are filled with Cadillacs. What the hell man? So I circled the block about ten times before deciding to just park as close as possible and walk. I need the exercise, right?!

I opened the door to the shop and inhale the distinct fruity-musky scent of the boutique. I'm greeted with a "Hey girl!" from some invisible person. Fifi called ahead. They already had my dressing room filled and waiting. Another salesgirl was trying to assist some eccentric old bird who was going on and on about her brand new Electric Blue Cadillac convertible.

"I'll be right outside!!!" Chirped my helper. I stripped down and started to pull the first piece of clothing off the hanger. Could. Not. Get. The. Damned. Thing. On. I struggle to get it off so I can see what the tag says.

Gasp

14. 14!!!!

"Are you alright in there? Do you need any help?"

I started hyperventilating. What the crap?! I thought I was losing weight. Somehow I've now jumped UP in pant sizes??

"Ummm, no I'm fine. Don't come in!!"

Cuz that's exactly what I need: skinny-minny to swing the door open and see me in all my glory.

I sat down on the pretty, yet ridiculously uncomfortable chair in the dressing room and just glaze over as I stared at the tag. A fourteen?! I was about to start crying when the door opened, just a tad, and another handful of clothes were shoved in.

"Here, try these. They'll look fabulous on you!"

I squeaked out, "No thanks, I'm just gonna go."

"Don't be silly! Try these on!!"

I pulled the next pair off the hanger and slipped them on.

I figured they had to be a size 16 or bigger cuz they were just floating on me.

The pants fell to the floor as I unbuttoned them. I stepped out and checked the size...size 10.

What the hell? Seriously? Are they just messing with me?? By "we" I mean the fashion industry in general. Why can't we just have an industry standard like back in the day? I don't care if it's bigger or smaller, just a standard number, mmm-kay?!I take that back. I don't want to go back so far that my size is just "chubby."

I don't need a heart attack every time I go into a dressing room. Yeah, yeah, I know, it's only the number, but it's a big deal to anyone that has ever battled the bulge.

P.S. I bought the size 10 pants. I am happily floating in them right now.

Death of a Salesman

I'm almost 95% certain he was a salesman of some kind.

The Dude's last surviving grandparent passed away on Monday. It wasn't much of a shock. He'd been in hospital for two weeks and the doctors had already told us it was just a matter of time. His grandfather actually lived a lot longer than any of us expected. His wife, The Dude's Granny, passed almost two years ago and we all expected him to follow shortly thereafter. He died almost two years to the day.

Yesterday was the wake and funeral. Yes, everything all at once. Made for a long day. It wasn't without some laughs, however.

When you bring children to a funeral/wake, you're bound to end up with some funny moments...thankfully, not all of which were courtesy of my children. The Dude's cousin was kind enough to bring his son along as well.

I We tried as best as we could to explain what had happened to great grandpa to the twins before going. They had gone to see him in the hospital while he was semi-lucid, so they knew he was sick. Aunt Ali was ZERO help during all of this because she cried at the kitchen table while we did this. Anyshway, so day of funeral, The Dude had to be at the cathedral extra early and I stayed behind preparing some cupcakes for the reception that was to follow (recipe at end of post). They asked a bazillion questions and I did my best to answer. Most of my responses simply got a "But why?" from them.

At the funeral when the family was asked to come and say their final goodbyes, The Dude took Twin A, his Mom had Twin B and I had Pickles. I whispered to the girls to blow grandpa a kiss and tell him goodbye. As we got closer this is was Twin B said, rather loudly, "Hey, why is Grandpa in that box? Ya know, that's not how you tell someone goodbye, ya do it like this," as she placed one hand on her hip and waved. Stiffled laughter filled the air. Pickles refused to blow a kiss, so we just went back to our seats.

The cousin's kid was carried up to the casket where he proclaimed, "I love Grandpa's new bed! It looks so comfy!!" Hey, I never suggested we bring the kids up there!

At least the kids cut some of the sorrow and tension that filled the air.

On to cuppycakes!!

My Granny's church has a group of women that take care of food for funerals. My Granny always handles the desserts. She has one cake recipe she calls The Funeral Cake. She says it has always been the most popular at all of the funerals. So I took my cue from the expert and got her recipe. I, however, wanted to cut some of the extra mess and hassle of a regular cake and opted for cupcakes (ya know, no knife needed, no plates needed, etc).

The recipe is rather simple, but the results are yummy and incredibly moist! Get a box of chocolate cake mix with the pudding in it or simply get a regular one and toss a box of chocolate pudding in the mix, a bag of chocolate chips I used mini chips since I was doing cupcakes, and a can of cherry pie filling.

Combine the cake mix, 1/3 Cup oil, 3 eggs and 1 Cup of water, stir well. Fold in the pie filling. Spoon into lined cupcake tins and sprinkle chocolate chips on top. Bake in a 350 degree oven for 15-20 minutes.

My Granny told me sometimes she just sprinkles powdered sugar on top and other times she tops it with fresh whipped cream. I decided to do a whipped creamish topping.

We all know that whipped cream doesn't really hold up well in heat. You can stabilize it with pudding or gelatin, but the results aren't always that great. I used Dream Whip and a box of white chocolate pudding. The results were super-fab!

You definitely don't want a Buttercream type frosting, as that would be too much and far too overpowering. Whipped cream sounded about right, but I wanted a little something extra. The white chocolate pudding was just the ticket. The resulting frosting was not too sweet and just perfect for the cupcakes. Held up well too!

The Dream Whip box has the instructions on the box for making frosting. You mix the Dream whip packet with cold milk and the pudding with a mixer until medium peaks form. Yums!!
P.S. my tags for this entry remind me of Eddie Izzard's "Cake or Death" bit.
Good stuff

This job makes me look SMART!

When I say things like, "I'm surrounded by idiots," at work, I think people feel like I'm exaggerating. I'm not.

As I was going through some paperwork this morning, I stumbled upon this

This is what one of my technicians wrote on a service ticket. Can you all read that? Do you see any problems with that?

Allow me to help. It says, "Found Fitten Loose on drain. Glued fitten and gave drain more fall..."

"Fitten"

Not once, but twice he wrote out "fitten." Still in the dark? The word he's searching for is FITTING. Prime example of writing how one speaks.
Sometimes it takes a good 15 minutes to decipher some of the things these guys scrawl out.

My boss still insists the days of the week are Monday, Thuesday, Wednesday, Thuesday, Friday.

No joke, I see him write it EVERY single week

Fancy Shmancy

For our "big night" in New Orleans last week, we had secured some fairly inexpensive hotel rooms thanks to a friend's corporate discount. The week of said event, said friend with discount no longer works for the hotel. DIZZAMN. As Ali and I scroll through page after page of hotels in the Quarter that are not too far from the reception, she finds a deal that is too good to pass up. Where did we lay our pretty little heads last Friday night?

That's right. The mother-luvin Ritz-Carlton. Pictured above, my friends, are the chocolates they brought to lay on our pillows at turn-down time. Ali says when the lady saw the kids she threw in a few extra which I ate gave to the kids.

We had an amazing view of the river along with a few other nice views.

Excuse the slight blur, this was taken out of a window with a few sprinkles on it. But yeah, we had a full on view of Lenny's pad...much better view than what I photographed (I was just trying to get the river). Sadly, he was NOT sunbathing nude on the roof. Just my luck, eh?

Yeah, I took my 3 yr old twins and almost 2 year old son to stay at the Ritz. Fancy, no? How's this for fancy, they ate Lucky Dogs in bed at the Ritz-Carlton. Complete with red AND yellow ketchup. I've told them numerous times that it's called mustard but, you guessed it, I'm always wrong. What's that? You don't know what a Lucky Dog is? Here, check out their website. Anyone that has been down Bourbon knows the Lucky Dog carts. Nothing beats a Lucky Dog smothered in chili at 2am, NOTHING. Maybe that was an inaccurate statement. Nothing beats it at 2am for a pregnant lady, which was the last time I had one of those bad boys.

Shut up, shut up. Yes, I was on Bourbon Street at 2am when I was 7 months pregnant with Pickles. We had gone to a wedding and were out having fun. Perhaps I wasn't having so much fun, you know, wearing the heels, tired as hell trouncing the streets of New Orleans...whatever. I should probably mention that we also went to a strip joint that night. NOT MY IDEA! There were a bunch of us, more females than males actually, and it sounded like a good idea at the time. One particularly inebriated friend repeatedly tried to buy me a lap dance. I politely declined and asked the stripper to kindly remove her hoo-ha from my enormous belly. The stripped and I ended up chatting most of the evening. LOVED her tassels!

Where was I?
Oh yes, The Ritz. The room was ginormous and luxurious. I felt rather princessy. When people at the reception asked where we were staying, I simply replied "across the street." The usual response was, with jaws agape, "At the Ritz??" I'm thinking they all thought that was a bit above our standards and they'd be right. But like I said, it was an amazing deal so we did it.
The kids very much enjoyed the huge windows. In fact, for a little bit I thought they had all escaped the hotel room because when I came out of the bathroom they were all gone. Alas, they were simply hiding.
Pickles snapped this shot of Twin A. It made me giggle. Just the look on her face is of pure annoyance. Love it. Like, she was caught by the paparazzi leaving a club at 4am

Holla at 'cha girl!

This is a very special MammaDucky entry not at all similar to the "very special episode of Full House" or any other dramedy.

Today, my dear friends, is my best friend's birthday! Yay! Shasty's birthday!!! I love me some Shasty. Do we all know the story of my Shasty and I met? Gather 'round kids. Everyone sitting Indian style that probably isn't P.C. anymore but that's what we called it when I was little. Rambler! No talking during story time!!

Ok, ready?

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...ok, so I'm totally stealing that line, but seriously, it was. Our brave men were off at war. Left behind, in a tiny little desert town, were two beautiful young wives hush, it's my story. Actually, if I'm gonna be completely honest, there were lots of young wives left behind. Entire neighborhoods devoid of men. Only women and children remained.

I didn't know a whole lot of people out there. We had wed less than 6 months prior and I had moved there within the 3 months of his deployment. It was a lonely existence. Back then, you didn't get emails, let alone phone calls or letters. We were slaves to our phones and the mail carrier...just waiting for any word.

We both found solice in a website support group for Marine Wives. Someone asked if there were any Twentynine Palms wives on the board and all of us out in the good 'ole "Stumps" started talking online. Eventually, someone got up the courage to host a BBQ so we could all meet up. I wasn't in the best of moods when I went. I was down about not hearing from The Dude in a long time and had just gotten out of the hospital after a rather nasty asthma attack the one where they thought I had SARS. Another friend insisted I go, so I did. I was uncomfortable, to say the least. I was shy back then.

We were all standing in the kitchen chatting when the host, who was visibly pregnant, opened her freezer to get out some ice. She pulled out a bottle of vodka and remarked how she used to LOVE drinking it. A cutesy brunette standing across from me quipped, "Oh, is that how you got knocked up?" I nearly peed my pants. Immediate thought was, I LOVE THIS CHICK! Oh my heavens, someone with a sense of humor...MY kind of humor. Needless to say, not EVERYONE thought that was funny, but we did.

We've shared heartache and happiness. Good times and bad times. Her hubs got out of the Marine Corps before The Dude left for his second deployment and they moved home to Colorado, but we kept in constant contact. Shortly before The Dude's return, Shasty called me with the wonderful news that she was expecting her first child. A few short months later, with The Dude safely home, we too discovered we were pregnant. Is that not every girl's dream? To be pregnant with your best friend?! We liked it so much, in fact, that we did it again a second time. This time, I got knockered up (at her house, tee-hee) and a short time later, she too found herself with child.

We live a great distance apart. I miss my Shasty every single day. We try to chat as often as possible, but you know how difficult that can be sometimes. She is a wonderful mother and amazing friend. I am truly blessed to have her in my life. I hope to see her and her beautiful family again very soon. Love you, miss you Shasty.

P.S. I couldn't interest you in a house down here, could I?? Hey, a girl's gotta try!

P.P. S. If you haven't already clicked on her name(s) in this post (which are links to various posts on her blog), click here and check out her blog. Leave some birthday lovin'.

We're not worthy!!!!

Dearest Bloggy Buddies,

I must apologize for my absentness. My stupid job apparently expects me to work?! The nerve of some people. We'll slow down soon, then I'll be back to boring you all with my ridiculous rantings on a regular basis...who's excited?? Thought so.

Let me shift gears right quick and allow you into this wonderful and exclusive world known as the life of the privileged.

The Dude and I attended a VERY swanky wedding last Friday. We're talking, this was the fanciest even I will ever attend in my life, type deal.

The actual wedding took place at New Orleans' famed St. Louis Cathedral. While it was a beautiful ceremony, the most fancy stuff was yet to come.

The reception was at the Roosevelt in New Orleans, which was newly remodeled. This, in fact, was the first even since the remodel. Anywho, the place was beautiful on it's own, but throw in a crap-ton of money for decorations and it was amazing!

Lemmie break a few things down for ya:

100,000 white roses <---NOT a typo

$20,000 wedding dress

Don't worry, I didn't see the $20,000 worth in it either, and I saw it in person!
750 guests RSVP'd

There were all kinds of foods, from appetizers, to seafood, to classic Cajun delights, to prime rib, to turkey, to pastas made in front of you, gourmet cheeses and fruit and a sushi bar.

Does that give you some kind of idea what we're dealing with here?? NO? Let me show y'all some pictures then.

The groom's cake. Representin' da Saints (Who dat?!) and the Hornets. Cake was super dry and yuck. Looked nice though.

View of the main ballroom. I say main, cuz there were like 4 rooms.

Oyster bar setup.

The tables. Those centerpieces were JAM-PACKED with roses. They had smaller center pieces with probably only 4 dozen roses on them...we took one of those home. WHAT? I had permission from the bride's Daddy!!

Martini bar cut from ice. Behind it was an ice sculpture of a fleur de lis.

Sushi bar. There were TWO sushi chefs on either side of that ice wall. Yes, those are whole fish frozen into a block of ice.

This was just the appetizer set up.

Alligator head ice sculpture with shrimp scattered in and around it. Those are oyster shooters in the shot glasses.

Sorry for the crappy picture, I took this with my phone. This dude was hand rolling cigars, which were then given out as the wedding favors. I snapped this as we waited our turn to use the photo booth. Yeah, photo booth instead of a guestbook.

The wedding cake. SUPER yummy. Almost like a doberge. White cake with strawberry Italian buttercream filling.

...And the Pièce de résistance ...

Mother-effing PERCY SLEDGE serenaded the couple for their first dance!! He sang his hit, "When a Man Loves a Woman." Quality.

I will not be silenced! My Facebook page will NOT be censored!!!

Ok, perhaps I'm being a tad dramatic.

I updated my status the other day, and let's just say it didn't go over so well with my husband's brat of a sister. Mind you, I knew she would see it. I'm not stupid. I'll tell you what I put, followed by a little back story.

I'm sorry I'm more concerned out the BUSINESS during our busiest season than your stupid, stinky dog. Yes, she IS stupid. Something is not right with that dog. Driving an hour each way during business hours to take her to the vet is silly. P.S. They haven't cured her. She still stinks!

I knew my boss/father in law had an check up scheduled for one of his dogs that morning. I knew when he had to leave. With that in mind I had a small list of things I needed to discuss with him prior to him leaving town. I had everything organized and all the necessary documents at the ready so he wouldn't have to waste any time.

I caught him on his way in the door, talking as we walked. Suddenly his hand flew up in my face and he snapped, "I don't have time for this right now!!" and walked away. Oooooo-kay. He walked into his office and began surfing the Internet and chatting on the phone about his weekend. Just then, in walked a friend of his. They sat in his office chatting and joking until he had to leave for the appointment.

The rest of the day I had deal with the aftermath of him ignoring his very simple tasks for the day. Seriously, it would have taken maybe 5 minutes for him to address the problems I had. So I posted that little blurb on Facebook. WHAT?! I was fed up with his constant disregard for the company's well being. I didn't really appreciate him throwing his hand in my face either. I hadn't slept well the night before and was NOT in the mood for that. Was that the most adult thing to write? Probably not. But it kinda made me feel better, especially when my friend started chiming in with their own boss drama.

My dear sister in law took it upon herself to copy and paste my status into an email and sent it along to my father in law AND mother in law. WTF??!! My mother in law has nothing to do with the company, despite what she may believe. If my father in law dies, she doesn't get the company, she gets a cash settlement. Anywhooo, so the drama began.

The Dude got attacked from all angles. His Dad, his Mom and his sister all called him and attempted to rip him a new one for my comments. He, of course, fired back at them and each call ended in hang ups. His Dad actually got over it really quickly when, I suspect, he realized what I had said was actually a valid complaint. He was dismissive and the dog DOES smell bad, which is why she's at the friggen vet all the time. Also, it's kinda like a family joke that we call her stupid. They call her "stupid Molly." Now here's the best part: My mother in law and sister in law were upset that I called the dog stinky. THAT is what they were pissed about!! Bahahahahahahahaha!! Seriously?! SIL was actually crying on the phone, upset that I would call "a member of the family stinky." My MIL said the same thing. The apple doesn't fall far from the crazy tree, my friends.

So, I did what anybody would do. I deleted my sister in law from my Facebook friends, my Myspace and blocked her. Problem solved. Now she's pee-pee hurt that we aren't "friends" anymore. What a twit.