A Well-Dressed Packer Fan

My sister, Alfred, is a huge Packer fan.  On every single game day, she decks herself out in green and gold, with her cheesehead earrings, Packers sock, a Packers top and Packers bottoms.
Unfortunately, her Packers bottoms, as seen here, resemble pajama bottoms.  With most Packer games being on Sundays, that means Alfred, much to the chagrin of her fashion-diva sister, often wears these knit pants to church.

Sewing machine to the rescue!  (And a very patient mommy/seamstress phone consultant.)
Now Alfred has a nice outfit for game days.  She described it as “the coolest Packer dressy outfit ever!”  I am very happy.



A green velvet circle skirt with matching jacket.  Instead of a poodle, like the traditional circle skirt, it has cheese! 

Hooray for giant sequins.
I made the skirt a size bigger than Alfred’s normal size on purpose.  Circle skirts are designed to go on your natural waistline, and Alfred hates things at her waist.  She said it feels slightly loose, but that could just be the weight.  (It’s 3.5 lbs!)  She danced around a bit in it and it didn’t fall off.  Plus, she knows how to sew too, so she can move the hook and eye if need be.

The only slightly bad part was hemming the skirt.  It took 3 days.  I actually ran out of the pretty gold lace hem tape and had to go back to the store to get a third pack.  The skirt is 7 yds around!  The Legend commented, ‘make it slightly bigger and she could mark 1st downs.’
The jacket is reversible.  On one side, it’s the regular green velvet, like the skirt.  On the other, green satin with her favorite player’s number.  This was a bit tricky.  The pattern was for an unlined jacket with facing.  Plhhh.  How boring.  With plenty of virtual assistance from Mommy, I managed to create a reversible version without two much trouble.  Somehow, I managed to get most of it stitched together inside out, leaving only a small place at the bottom for turning that had to be stitched up by hand.

I also lengthened the jacket because the pattern was designed to go with a skirt on the waist, not on the hips.  If I didn’t lengthen it, it would stop at an awkward place above the top of the skirt.  I think it came out a good length. Alfred seemed to think it was ok, too.

Originally, Mommy and I were thinking this would make a good Christmas gift for Alfred.  Then, we thought maybe she’d wnt to wear it on Christmas.  No Packer game that day, but it’s still a pretty outfit.  But then, we realized the Packers play on Thanksgiving.  What a perfect day for a nice new Packer outfit!  She got it in the mail today. :)
I’m so happy she likes it.  I was worried it wouldn’t fit at all, or that she wouldn’t like something about it.  I hope she sends picture of her wearing it.  Maybe some with her and PackerSpockMonkey hint, hint…

Finally El Cerrito UMC

“We tend to sit together up front on the left, it stays warmer that way,” the lady greeting me explained as I entered the small church. A few people in choir robes milled around in the first three pews up there so I asked for clarification from one of the few non-robed people. “Right here.” She said, pointing to the area I had thought was for the choir. Still uncertain and feeling a bit odd about sitting with the choir, I chose a seat at the end of the pew directly behind the choir.

When the service began, I started to understand. About half the people in attendance wore choir robes. I made the number present an even dozen, though a few more trickled in as the service went on, perhaps bringing the final number close to twenty. Even by the end, there were only two men present. Even more surprising, all the people were white. That never happens in the Bay.

Communion was laid out on the head table, which also confused me since it was not the first Sunday of the month, the Sunday generally reserved for Communion in the Methodist church. The back of the bulletin listed the Minister as “All of Us.” It seems in this church Communion occurs whenever an ordained person is available to come and give it. So, this day, this fourth Sunday was Communion Sunday in this church. The visiting, I don’t even know what she’s called, tore off pieces of a single croissant and gave them to each worshiper to dip in the white grape juice. Flaky pieces of croissant floated on top of the nearly clear liquid.

One of the choir-robe decked people gave the sermon. I liked what I heard, but I’ll admit I was having a very hard time paying attention. My mind was wandering, thinking about how much I need to get out of here, how much this perfectly epitomized my impression of this God-forsaken place.

Not that God has forsaken it, but that it has forsaken God. To love God, or rather, to acknowledge that you love God, makes you an outcast here. I hate that. Everyone is so concerned with individualism and political correctness (that’s what the sermon was about!), that there is no room for God.

Maybe that’s why I was so happy when the Jehovah’s Witnesses showed up at my door in the middle of the week and again on Saturday. Here were people who were not afraid of their faith; who were willing to go out on a limb and share that faith. I know it’s part of their beliefs and practices to go door-to-door, but I still admire them for the ability to do it in this hostile environment. I wonder what the most common reaction they get is.

I’ll go back to this church, when I’m around here. Even though it makes me sad to see such a small congregation. The people were nice, it’s a walkable distance, the singing was beautiful, and I need church. However, I am hoping there are many more Sunday trips to Merced in my future, I really like that church in Atwater and want to go back as often as possible.

Go Bears!

No, not those Bears. 
These Bears.

Last weekend, I had the lucky opportunity of attending a Cal football game with my friend Short Artichoke.  She, like Mr. Trizzle, is a Cal alum, so this was a much bigger deal for her than for me.  Although, maybe not since she has season tickets and this was the only college football game I’ve been to. (Maybe I went to one at my undergrad, but that hardly counts.)

The game was at a really weird time because the tv networks decided it would be.  And there were random weird long breaks during the game for the tv network to show their advertisements.  All in all though, it was still a football game.

The stands were less than packed (the team has been less than stellar) and we were able to easily slide on into the students’ section.  I had heard from Mr. Trizzle that this was the place to be on game day, so I was pretty excited about the seats.

The students have some interesting traditions.  One really neat one is where they each have a stack of colored pieces of paper and some instructions.  Someone calls out a number and they all hold up the card that matches that number on the instruction sheet.  The result is a giant picture in the stands!  Pretty neat.  Many of the pictures had to do with insulting Stanford, even though the opponent that day was Arizona, not Stanford.  (What kind of a mascot is a tree?!)

One of the less neat things was this guy with a microphone at the bottom of the stands that was sort of a modern day version of the old cheerleaders with the megaphones.  He led cheers, but he didn’t always do it well.  Still neat to be in the cheering section though.

Most of the game was watching the teams trade punts back and forth, but then at the end it got interesting.  The game was really close, and ironically, Cal almost lost by scoring a touchdown.  Cal was up by 2 points with a minute forty left on the clock when they got the ball back.  So what did they do?  Immediately ran it in for a touchdown, and missed the extra point.  Now, there was a minute thirty on the clock, the other team had the ball and only needed a touchdown and two point conversion to win the game.  They came very close.

My favorite part was when Arizona was within field goal range, going for a touchdown and got a 15 yard penalty, which took them out of field goal range, because they had thrown the ball forward twice on one play!  That almost made up for Cal throwing interceptions in the end zone two drives in a row.

When we arrived, it was a gorgeous sunny day, but the sun soon set and it became blistery cold.  Mmmmm, just like home, memories of watching high school football games.  Even though I was freezing and huddled deep into the Cal sweatshirt Mr. Trizzle had so generously leant me, it felt good.  Yes, I hate being cold.  But I’d forgotten some of the loveliness that comes with being cold.  That tingle all over your body when you go inside.  The sharp air in your nose as you take a deep breath.  The complete awareness of every part of yourself that comes into contact with the world outside your clothing.  Drafts through knits, gusts that send chills up loose sleeves.  You know you’re alive.  It’s wonderful.

I had a wonderful time with Short Artichoke at the game and am very happy she convinced me to brave Berkeley for it.  Maybe I’ll get to go again next year. :)

The Decoy

Compliments are nice; a girl likes a little positive feedback once in awhile. But, there’s a big difference between “excuse me, I know it’s none of my business, but you have nice legs,” and “hey, how are you? can I get your number? maybe I can call you sometime. when are you free?”

Sometimes, a girl just reaches a breaking point. For me, that breaking point was when I was walking past a guy and his two kids pushing a shopping cart in the super market. The dad told the kids to go back by their mom and then tried to holler. Umm.. no. That’s it. This has got to stop. So I have a decoy.

Sitting on my dresser, in its small black box was an old diamond ring from a previous life. I kept it there with a ticket stub from Blood Diamond to remind me of the things other people sacrifice so we can live our lives of privilege. I hope the gentleman that gave it to me will forgive me for wearing it again, but that diamond ring is now on my left hand. And so far, it seems to be working!

I’ve been able to ride BART and the bus without anyone hollerin'. I did get a few comments walking from the ICP concert to the club where I met my roommate, but I realized my hand was covered up. And at the club, boy was I happy to have that ring.

Mr. Trizzle says he doesn’t even notice it, but I think things are different when you’re at a club or trying to holler. In those instances, your looking for clues, hints that let you know if the person is available or not. (Most of the time, not always.) So even though Mr. Trizzle and other people I see frequently might not notice, people at the club certainly did.

One guy I was dancing with asked, “where’s your husband?” I just smiled and said, “not here.” (Not exactly a lie, but not giving me away.) He walked away! Awesome. Another guy I was dancing with asked if I left my man at home. Someone else made a comment too, but I forgot what it was.

I managed to leave the club having danced with more people than I could count. I think my decoy contributed to that because it made it more likely I’d find the people who were just there to dance instead of the people who were trying to get someone to take home and would pick a target, pounce, and not let go.

We stayed at the club until closing (my roommate managed to lose his glasses off his face without realizing it and we had to wait ‘til the lights were on to look for the glasses, which we didn’t find.) I left without having given anyone my number or having anyone buy me a drink. I was very proud. My roommate was annoyed and said I was again being the epitome of everything he hates about women. Good.

The best part of the club was the guy who tried to buy me a drink. I had already ordered my water when he sauntered over to the bar. Seeing that the bartender was getting me something, he said, “make it 2” and tried to pay. I gave the bartender her tip and walked away chuckling as she tried to explain to the guy that there was nothing to pay for because it was just water. She was still trying when I came back for my refill. The guy was befuddled. I was highly amused.

The club was great, and my little decoy is making traveling around the Bay and going out much more bearable. It sure beats dressing skuzzy, which I was starting to think might be my next option.

(By the way, I think the only reason I attract more attention here than I’m used to is because I stick out above the tops of most crowds. I’m taller than the average out here and, unlike pretty much everyone else, I wear heels all the time.)

Wi-Wi-Wicked Clowns

This weekend was so eventful, it may take me all week to cover it! (And to recover from it.) During the past week, I’ve gone out in the City four nights and two other nights out elsewhere. That’s far too much for little old me, but there was so much interesting stuff going on! One of the weekend’s many highlights was Friday night’s Insane Clown Posse concert.

The Insane Clown Posse (ICP) are an acquired taste. I still remember when I acquired it. Way back in the day, my high school boyfriend had a car with a cassette deck, and one cassette: ICP’s The Riddlebox. For the longest time, I absolutely hated it. I did most people who hear ICP casually do, I heard only the swear words and violent lyrics.

But as I listened to the album more and more (mostly against my will), I began to hear what they were actually saying. And I liked it. I liked ICP and I liked them for their social commentary and the message in their music: do good, be good and you’ll be rewarded, be bad, do evil and you will be punished.

The line that converted me from hater to juggalette, from the song “Dead Body Man” where the wicked clowns are talking about eating dead bodies:

You think I’m sick, take a look at yourself; you got dead deer heads up on your shelf; on your keychain is a little baby rabbit’s hand; I’m just a dead body man.

As a vegetarian, I thought they made the point rather well.

I couldn’t find anyone to go to the concert with me out here, so I just went by myself. And I had a blast! ICP always does an amazing show! There were crazy dancers, lots of clowns – in the audience and on stage – wrestling antics and a “tribute” to Michael Jackson after which they performed their song about catching pedophiles. And, of course, plenty of Faygo.

The Faygo came out on the first song. And even though I got a balcony seat to avoid being covered in sticky soda, I still got hit in the arm with a Faygo bottle. Root beer spilled down my arm and over my purse. Oh well. It wasn’t a lot. And considering how many 2Liters were launched into the audience, I’m lucky I only got that little bit on me. The people in the general admission area were completely soaked. (That’s where I was nearly 10 years ago when I went to my first ICP concert. I’m too old for that now. Although, SF juggalos are much milder than Milwaukee ones.)

Since the concert was part of the Bang! Boom! Pow! tour, every other song was off the new album (same name) and the classics were sprinkled in between. There were only one or two songs that I didn’t know well enough to sing along. I especially enjoyed the dance-along before the show when the hidden track off the new album, “Chop Chop Slide” was played over the speakers for the waiting audience.

The most surprising thing about the concert was that it was over by 11:30. ICP came on stage much earlier than I expected. At first I was mad that it was done that early because I could have taken BART instead of driving to the City. However, I was very glad that not only was I not covered in sticky sweet Faygo, but also that I had not painted my face. With the concert getting out so early, I was able to meet up with my roommate at one of the dance clubs. But that’s another story.

P.S. My favorite song off the new album is called “Vera Lee”. I think part of the reason I like it is because the hook has few enough notes that I can sing along in tune. Plus it’s got that deep, moving sound that I like and the story is intense.

[Image from: http://www.juggalonews.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=1596]

American Idiot

A guest post by Daddy Bunny and Mr. Fuzzy

Hello all, it’s your favorite anthropomorphic rabbit, Daddy Bunny. My cousin, Mr. Fuzzy, is visiting us while his mom is in Scotland. He wants to tell you about the fun he had last night. I’m helping him because he does not use a computer as often as I do. Take it away Mr. Fuzzy!

Hi. I’m Mr. Fuzzy. I’m Daddy Bunny’s cousin and I’m staying with him and my auntie until my mom gets home from Scotland. My sister, April, is staying with our other auntie. Mom could only afford a few extra tickets, so we had to stay in the US. Luckily, we have nice aunties to take care of us and fun cousins to play with.

Last week was my mom’s birthday. My aunt and I really wanted to celebrate with her, but we couldn’t because she is far away. My aunt had a great idea though. She decided we would celebrate my mom’s birthday by going to see a rock opera using some of my mom’s favorite music. The show has the same title as the album with the music it uses, American Idiot. The music is by the band Green Day. We went to the show last night. It was in a nearby town called Berkeley at the Berkeley Reparatory Theater. (Boy that is a big word for a little monkey!)

The show was really, really good. My auntie liked it so much, she wanted to take me back for a second time, but she couldn’t get any more tickets. That was too bad, cuz I really liked the show and would have liked to see it again from further back. We were in the front row, and since I’m little and was sitting on my auntie’s lap, I really had to lean my head back to see. My neck still hurts a little bit. But it was worth it.

The people on stage were really good. They sang well, and they danced well, and they had fun tennis shoes on. I could see the shoes really well from where we were sitting. I bet my auntie liked that. She likes shoes a lot. It was also really neat to see how the album made up these three different stories. Well, I guess it was sort of one story about 3 different people. Or something like that…?

I’m a lot more familiar with the music than my auntie was because I’ve heard my mom play it a lot. I tried to explain some of the songs to my aunt, but her Monkey isn’t very good and I didn’t have Daddy Bunny there to translate.

Since my mom couldn’t be at the show, we got her a present. It’s special poster made for this show. This show was the world premier. Not specifically the one we saw, but all the playings together at this theater. Here are pictures of me with the front and back of the poster we got for my mom.

I am very glad my aunt took me to the show. It was much better than the last one she took me to. (Daddy Bunny: my mom took Mr. Fuzzy to a show at the little theater where I saw Harvey. Mr. Fuzzy said it was very strange, a little scary and had funny talking people in it.) I can’t wait to tell my mom all about American Idiot when I see her at Christmas!

Happy Birthday Browser

Last night Mozilla threw a huge birthday party for it’s special baby. The Firefox browser turned 5!

A nice perk of working for one of the open-techie-non-profits in San Francisco is invites to events like this. Only two of us from work were able to go, but boy did we have fun! It was a great party; a dance party in fact.

There were special drinks made up just for the occasion. They were called foxtails and had vodka, rum, Midori and white cranberry juice, and they were served on the rocks with a special plastic ice cube that flashed red and orange in the glass. I usually am not a fan of some of the ingredients, but those drinks were yummy!

The place was decorated with red and orange flashing lights. There were shrimp and veggie kabobs outside the venue and little round orange carpet circles that led you from the entrance gate, passed the kabob stand, into the large hall. Inside treats included crème brûlée in various flavors, even Frosted Flakes!, and Firefox temporary tattoos.

The music was mostly electronic beats, but played with familiar song lyrics on top of them. Interesting, and good enough to get most people out on the dance floor. At one point, I got to see Mr. Firefox himself (or one of the incarnations of the night) break dancing. He lost his foot!

There were four cakes, each sculpted like different Firefox logos, including the spherical fox wrapped around the globe one. Each cake was a different flavor. I missed out on the raspberry cream layered cake and had to wait patiently by as they divided out all of the double chocolate that I had no interest in eating. Then they cut into that giant sphere cake. Yellow layer cake with a not-too-sweet frosting. Delicious!

But one of my favorite parts of the whole night was getting my picture taken with Mr. Firefox himself!

[Unfortunately, this was during one of Mr. Firefox’s shorter incarnations of the evening, so I had to bend down a bit, but it’s still a cute picture!]

Both my coworker and I had a great time at Firefox’s birthday party. We talked, we ate yummy food, drank yummy drinks, danced and enjoyed the scene. Thanks Mozilla, for throwing such a nice party.

P.S. Yes that's the dress I got stuck in. I actually received quite a number of compliments on the dress at the party, which I thought was a little weird since it was a dance party.

Ack! I’m Stuck!

Dresses from back in the day certainly had their share of elaborate closures.  As I put on the 1940’s styled dress my mom made me some time ago, I thought, “how did women dress themselves?!”  Then I remembered, they didn’t have to, they never lived alone.  Well, I am not so fortunate, and this morning, that really sucked.

The dress, the 1940s styled dress, was my Easter dress some time back. I think maybe in high school, though it might have been college.  When Mom made it, as usual with my retro patterned clothes, it was too small and I needed to wear a waist cincher.  It fits nicely now, although the seams area bit stretched from previous years of forcing myself into it.  It’s so cute!

However, no matter how cute or how well it fits, it is still not easy to put on.  It has a side opening with metal snaps and a hook and eye, as well as a back opening that is half zipper and half small round buttons with thread loop button holes.  And those loop button holes, at the top of my back, are the bane of my existence today.

I was doing fine.  Really proud that I was managing to put this dress on all by myself.  And then I buttoned a button wrong.  So I tried to undo it, but I somehow put the button through the loop again.  And a third time.  I could not unbutton that button.  So, not only could I not fix the buttons so I could button the rest and be fully dressed, I could not get the dress off to put something else on instead.  I was, in fact, stuck half dressed.

My roommate works a quasi 2nd shift schedule, and he’s a heavy sleeper.  I knocked on his door just enough to see if he was up (cuz I didn’t want to wake him if he wasn’t), he wasn’t.   I was very stuck and as much as tried, I could not undo that button.

Finally, I gave up.  I put on my shoes and my makeup, ate my breakfast, packed my lunch and put on my jacket, mostly to hide the back of my dress.  And it was off to work I went, hi ho, with my buttons not in a row.

Luckily, I have some very nice coworkers, and one of them attempted to undo the button.  She couldn’t.  I had gotten it so messed up trying to undo it myself that it was hopeless.  Snip.  She had to cut the button loop.  Then she was able to button the rest of the buttons properly.  And, she had a safety pin to close up the gap with the now missing button loop.  Hooray!

[Pic: me after being properly fixed.]

Now, the fun part will be trying to get this off.

Church! Finally. Sort of…

I finally made it to a church service today. It was wonderful. I really need that. However, it wasn’t the El Cerrito United Methodist Church that I’ve been trying to go to for about a month or so. But, it was a United Methodist Church. Let me tell you the story…

Mr. Trizzle and I decided to go bowling in Atwater. It’s a little town about 10 minutes from his town and is his nearest bowling alley. It’s also cheaper than bowling around where I live. We decided to meet at the bowling alley at 11.

Once I knew what time we were meeting for bowling, I was able to look for a church. It just had to be somewhere between El Cerrito and Atwater and get out at a time that allowed me to get to Atwater’s bowling alley by 11. Atwater United Methodist Church just happens to be directly across the street from the bowling alley and have a 10 am service. Perfect!

The church was really nice and everyone was extremely welcoming. The congregation was small, but more diverse than I expected. People were dressed up for church and the old ladies had short permed hair like old ladies are supposed to have.

Today was a special service for Veterans’ Day on the 11th. Atwater used to be home to Castle Military Base. Half the population was associated with the base. When it closed, the town was devastated. It’s rebounding a bit now, but is still very much a military town. Even the pastor of the church is retired military, 20 years.

The pastor asked people who had served in the military to stand. Most of the men and a few of the younger women stood. Then he asked spouses of people who had served to stand. About half the congregation was standing. Then he asked parents of those who had served to stand. By that point, there were about 3 or 4 of us left sitting.

The special service was really neat. It was a singing w/ narration type deal. They sang the usual patriotic songs, including the Star Spangled Banner, for which everyone stood, and recited portions of “The Gettysburg Address” the “Declaration of Independence “ and a newer speech I didn’t recognize. One soprano cracked trying to reach the really high note at the end of God Bless America, but it didn’t matter. It was still all very beautiful.

The service actually ended a little early so I had plenty of time to change out of church clothes, into jeans, and head to the bowling alley. Bowling was lots of fun. We hadn’t bowled in several months, so we only played 3 games. As usual, I won one and Mr. Trizzle won the rest.

Then we headed into Merced for lunch. Mr. Trizzle is still exploring the town and finding good places to eat. This time it was a cute little diner. Pretty good food. After that, I helped him unpack some things and got to assemble a shoe rack for him. It’s nice to be good at something.

It was a really fun day. Nice weather, a great time with a good friend and an uplifting church service. That nice Sunday dose of God and patriotism may be just enough to get me through my two scheduled visits to Berkeley this week.

Pse Tlyde Pte and Other Funny Prefixes

The other day I was helping my new roommate, The Legend, move.  Well, I was trying to help.  However, The Legend is a guy, and being such, he had absolutely nothing packed, practically refused to use boxes, and when he did agree to use a box obstinately insisted that it was assembled correctly and was supposed to have wings.  (Really, it isn’t this difficult. plhhh, men.)

So basically, my helping consisted mostly of driving the car.  And waiting.  Waiting for him to scoop whatever mass of fibers, metal and who-knows-what off his floor and into giant bags.  While waiting, I discovered two wonderful things.  The first was the remote to his mother’s television.  This remote was the most ridiculous thing I had ever seen.  It was HUGE!  Practically as big as the tv screen itself.  It was so big, I assumed it was a toy and was quite surprised when my pushing the power button caused the television to turn on.

There was my second wonderful discovery, a PBS show called Dinosaur Train.  It’s a bout a family of Pteranodons, or something else I probably can’t pronounce, and their adopted T-Rex that hatched in their nest.  The family goes on different adventures on the Dinosaur Train, which allows them to time travel, too.  In this particular episode one of the young Pteranodons, Tiny, was upset because he lost his special place as the littlest to a microraptor the family visited via the Dinosaur Train.  I could sympathize with Tiny.  He felt about the little microrapter just like I did on Sunday about Mr. Trizzle and the Legend when they took away my job of organizing the packing in the moving truck.  We all need our special roles.  In the end, the littel microrapter and Tiny worked together to save the day.  (And Mr. Trizzle, the Legend and I worked together to pack the truck up nice.)  Oh, and I learned that “micro” means “small.” ;)

I really liked the show.  I kept wondering if Alfred would like it, too, since it’s about dinosaurs; or whether it would upset her because she’d be pointing out all the things wrong with it.  “A T-Rex egg wouldn’t just show up in a Pteranodon nest!” she’d say.  But the show made the Pteranodons travel through time on the Dinosaur Train in order to visit the microraptors (since the microraptors have wings and feathers, I’m assuming they are from a later time period), so Alfred should be pleased about that.  I got the show for my Zune, so maybe we can watch it together after Christmas.

Munchkinhead Joins Big People

I’ve hardly gotten used to the idea that I can drink, and now - oh how unbelievable - my pretty little munchkinhead is 21!  It seems just the other day she was playing dress up and making funny faces. Oh wait, that was just the other day.

 

Munchkinhead has discovered, during her time in Scotland, the glorious yummy-ness that is Amarula.  The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.  Or should that be the marula fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree?  Anyway, Mommy is already stocking up on Amarula for Christmas.  We’ll really celebrate then.  (By the way, the glass on the Amarula website is far too small.)

I’m not sure what Munchkinhead is doing to celebrate her birthday, other than staying up all night to write a paper.  I’m celebrating next week by going to see the musical version of one of her favorite albums, American Idiot.  It’s the sort of thing I’d take her to, if she were in the same city, or on the same continent as me.  Maybe there will be something just as good when she comes to visit in the spring.

And now, a song:

Happy Birthday to You

You ah-are a zoo

You would be a monkey

If your tail had grew

Love you pretty little munchkinhead.  Happy 21st Birthday!!!

Hallo Weeeeeeee Een

I wasn’t expecting to have a very fun or exciting Halloween.  After all, Mr. Trizzle was moving away that weekend, and there’s nothing fun about that.  But life is always full of surprises, and Halloween weekend turned out to be pretty great. …even with the depressing move.

Mr. Trizzle’s friend, The L E G E N ol (who, for sake of typing ease I’m just calling The Legend) needed help with his Halloween costume.  At the suggestion of Mr. Trizzle (who’s too good/lazy/busy for Halloween costumes), The Legend was dressing up as Rick Ross.

This is Rick Ross –> 

He’s a rapper from Miami. 

As you can see, The Legend needed a giant chain of his/Rick Ross’s face.  Enter goldenrail and a trip to Jo-Ann Fabrics.  (You know I’m always looking for excuses to go there.)

Several days and two bags of rhinestones later, Rick Ross appeared in our apartment.

As it turned out, Mr. Trizzle and I got to be Rick  Ross’s entourage for an exclusive party Friday night.  Neither of us had costumes, but that didn’t matter.  Mr. Trizzle just claimed Recession Halloween and my cute owls were festive enough.

But Halloween weekend didn’t just involve parties and moving boxes; it also included that staple of all Halloweens: pumpkin carving!!!!

On Saturday afternoon, my new friend came over to carve pumpkins.  He’s from Nigeria, so he’d never carved a pumpkin before.  (Pumpkins are food over there, not decorations.  Interestingly enough, that’s two years in a row I’ve had a Nigerian pumpkin carving day.)

He did one, and I did two, one for me and one for Daddy Bunny.  Daddy Bunny’s Grandma suggested he join in, but then remembered pumpkin carving is very messy and he doesn’t bath well.  So, Daddy Bunny designed his vampire bunny pumpkin, and I helped him out by carving it for him.  Here are our finished pumpkins.  (Unfortunately, since it was day time, you can’t tell they’re lit up.)

Sunday was moving day all day.  That wasn’t bad.  Though it was sad to say goodbye to Mr. Trizzle, I got to drive his car (with his awesome stereo) the two hours to Merced while he drove the moving truck.  Woo hoo for subwoofers!  Mr. Trizzle’s getting settled in now and we’re all excited for him and his new job.

 

 

photo credits: Rick Ross cc-by adroed availble at:  http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/g4Pn-KiGXT8h_0rxmZ47Kg)

The Legend as Rick Ross and Carved Pumpkins cc-by goldenrail

Group picture courtesy of The Legend’s facebook.