NPR Valentine's Day Cards

NPR Valentine's Day Cards

Pay it Forward... To Yourself

Last night I escaped with what my Irish father referred to as "elitist English shite".  Yep, I was watching Downton Abbey on Masterpiece.  I am thoroughly and completely enjoying this show.  While I no longer believe in romance or love I am as vulnerable as the next gal to shameless forbidden romance.  As I watched it it occurred to me that I was so completely taken away that I'd forgotten.

What had I forgotten?  I had forgotten about Monday.

Lately I get a tension headache almost everyday.  Usually by Sunday at 1:00 I start to dread the inevitable coming of the work week.  Don't get me wrong.  I don't hate my job.  Sometimes I quite like it and given the horrible situation of the economy I feel incredibly lucky and don't take my paying gig for granted.  I may not have bought myself any clothes in almost two years and my only pair of jeans have been washed so much that there is now a hole exposing what color underwear I wear, but I can buy my daughters clothes and pay for a roof over their head.  That's what matters.

So why am I getting headaches?  Work.  Beyond a normal year this year has a lot more stress.  I could deal with that but I am having a hard time dealing with the endless parade of attitudes and bad moods people bring with them to work.  I could easily bring my problems with me to work.  Every single day for a long time now I have felt lost, sad, scared, or even angry.  I do not, however, bring that to work.  If my life isn't going as well as I'd like it's not your fault.  If life sucks it isn't your responsibility to deal with it.

Despite the fact that I feel that way others seemingly do not have this same viewpoint.  I understand that people have their own problems or difficulties.  What I do not get is their proclivity for making you feel as miserable as they do.  I come in and no matter how I feel I am ready to engage you in a pleasant way.  I'm ready to share a laugh or smile.  It seems like work has almost become a perverse version of Pay It Forward except that unkindness and unhappiness are what they send down the line in a whisper down the miserable lane.

So thank you PBS.  You have once again provided me with an escape from reality.  Or as my father would say, an escape from reality to "elitist English shite" reality.  It's not his fault.  He's Irish.

Sunday 160: Robbed

She stole my safety.  

He stole my hope.  

All that is left is me but 

I don't know who that is anymore.  

I went back to my old kingdom and didn't recognize myself on the coin.  

Song Saturday: Lupe Fiasco -The Show Goes On

The Monday Mix: Cranberry Scones

I don't cook. I get distracted easily. I've burned water, walked away and burned instant noodles, and created all sorts of inedible delicacies that get scraped right from the pan to the trash. My children aren't eating though. They've seemingly gone off food. I can get them fast food and Chloe will say she'll eat later and never does. The only thing they are eating with fidelity is string cheese, yogurt, and already sliced apples.

In the interest of getting my kids to eat I figured I'd bake. Now don't get too excited. Notice this is called "The Monday Mix" so of course I bought a box and all I have to do is follow the directions. That shouldn't be so hard, right? Let's look at the pictures and see how successful I was...


So what attracted me to making cranberry scones? The clearance sticker! LOL

The directions said to add softened butter to the dry mix. So I nuked some butter. It still didn't look good so I added margarine. Margarine is already soft right?

Once I added the milk I finally felt that I was going somewhere... but it was so... stiff. Stiff is only good for some things right? *snicker* So I added more milk.



Then Chloe wanted in on the mixing action. It really made her happy.


So... remember when I added more milk than what the box called for? Well, apparently the mix should have been stiff *snicker* so that you could cut the scones into triangles then bake them. Obviously my milk adding enthusiasm ruined that so I kind of glopped them on a greased sheet. Yes, glopped is a word. I deem it so.

The glopping worked! It looks almost edible. Now I know what you are thinking. Please tell us you at least whipped your own cream. *snicker* (I'm sorry I can't help myself) Think again! It's Cool Whip! LOL



Bella looks ... OK, she doesn't look happy. However, she ate it! OK, really she just ate the whipped cream and cried when it was all gone. I ate it though and it was really good. This cooking from a box thing could work.

Tune in next week when I make Fettuccine Alfredo from a packet!!! LOL

Sunday 160: Barbie Doll

Legs for miles and killer heels. Like Barbie with looks that change as much as Gaga. No one will ever make Robin Thicke as cool just by shaking it for daddy.

Can you write microfiction in 160 characters or less? Then come see the Monkey Man!

Song Sunday: Nicki Minaj -Super Bass

**Boom x15*