I need to plant a tree

Dear Trees of the World,

I hope that you will accept my deepest apologies for the harm I have caused your kind. My job forces me to print a sheet for every event we hold at our facility and make 9 copies of said sheet. December is a specifically brutal month for my position and thus your kind suffers in the process. I apologize for my actions and in an attempt to right my wrongs, I will be planting a tree in your honor.

Most Sincerely Yours,

A sorrowful tree harmer

This is proof of my transgressions...this is just Dec. 1- Dec. 11 and just one copy...I did this 9 times. I am so ashamed.

Suicide Knives & Black Tie Domino's

For those of you who are not aware, I am an "event planner". No, I am not J Lo in The Wedding Planner, nor am I one of those crazy planners from TV, like on Bridezillas, etc. Granted, I have my moments of insanity, but for the most part (depending on who you ask) I am not a crazy person. I plan all private events for a dinner club downtown and we have 3 floors with 15 private rooms. So we do anything from business meetings for 4 to weddings for 300 to caterings for 500. December is my time of utter lunacy. From about November 15th (beginning of finalizing plans) to December 24th (last party) some may compare me to a chihuahua (little spastic trying to be in 400 places at once) or a switch board operator as that is what I am doing 90% of the time...answering calls, returning calls, having meetings, emails, texts, faxes, sky writing. Sometimes I wish advancements in technology would cease, cause if these people have one more way to get in touch with me, I may need to find the cave Jesus rose from and rent it for a spell.
December is lots of Starbucks, head down push through, sleep, work, smile, "Happy Holidays" (never Merry Christmas, learned that one the hard way), mac & cheese at midnight...fun times people!

So Friday we had probably our busiest day and it consisted of the following:

6 lunch events (nothing huge)

3 dinner events totalling 200 people at the club

1 catering for 450 at The Tulsa Public Library, a seated 3 course dinner at the library.

Now, let me explain to you that no, the library does not have a kitchen. So we create a make shift kitchen BETWEEN ROWS OF BOOKS. No lie. We are dishing up 450 appetizers, entrees and desserts in between "Curious George" and "Pride & Prejudice". It is quite a feet...but we do it every year. So at 9am we begin to transport all that is needed. Place settings (china, silver, glasses, coffee cups, etc.), kitchen set up, bar set up, wine, liquor, ice, sugar, salt & pepper, everything. The library is located roughly 3 blocks from our building, so many items we load on carts and push through downtown. Cobble stone streets...caused this:

Yep, that's us on 7th Street, picking up the 250 knives that attempted suicide at 9:15am, I assume they were boycotting this catering as we wish we could. In the process of picking up, I gracefully kicked, like a soccer ball, a 32 oz. cup of coffee and it landed on the bottom 1/4 of my pants...pretty. So once the hemorrhaging ceased we headed on to our duties of transforming the Library from this:

To this:

Not too shabby. The evening went off with no fires, lack of food, passed out drunk people or injuries, so in my book, that is a success. The only time I had to restrain myself from punching someone in the neck involved a server, who was on rent from a local staffing firm. With the insanity of the season, we will "rent" people for the evening to have warm bodies. This event begins at 7pm and is pretty much balls to the wall until 10pm when the guests leave. So I inform staff that there are no breaks, smoking or otherwise from 6:00pm until 10pm...because I am not responsible for the pain inflicted if someone asks me in the midst of dishing up steak & lobster for 450 between the Dewey decimal system, if they can have a 10 minute break to attempt to catch lung cancer. No you moron you can not!

So for the safety of those working with us, we give them 20 minutes before our pre-shift meeting to go smoke or do whatever they must. Of course the place cleared out like someone just yelled in a crowd of teenage girls that Robert Pattinson was outside. At this point a "rented" server approaches and following was our conversation:

Rented "Do you have the number for Domino's?"

Me "I'm sorry?"

Rented "Pizza, do you have the number for Domino's?"

Me "For what?"

Rented "I'm hungry and they deliver"

Me "So you want Domino's to deliver pizza to a black tie formal dinner at the Tulsa Public Library?"

Rented "Yeah, I'm hungry"

Me...being restrained by my banquet supervisor as my eyes glaze over and I turn green..."NO...YOU CAN NOT HAVE DOMINO'S DELIVER YOU PIZZA!"

I am happy to report that no one was harmed, thanks in part to my banquet supervisor...he saved that girl's life. And on we continue...22 more days. I love my job!

Random Thoughts

The husband and myself went to a movie this evening and I left with a few notes of interest. Well, first I must say that we saw "The Blind Side". Great movie...great story...you should all go see it...well, all 2.5 people that will read this. (The .5 is my sister's dogs who are probably laying at her feet while she reads).

Anyway, the reason we are all gather today...Points of interest:

1. When did a "small" coke at the movies become the size of a small sea?

2. When did a "small" wild cherry slushy at the movies become the size of a slushy small sea?
These are SMALLS people...small, medium, large...tiny, average, huge....none, some, lots. (Granted, the price does in no way reflect the small status, but follow me here) Now it is like Huge, Hugger, Huggest. I think that movies and The Biggest Loser must have some silent pact that non of us "civilians" know about to keep each other in business. Think about it.

3. People with small children should not take them to a non-G rated movie at 8pm on a Saturday. And if you do completely lose your ever loving mind and decide that a 7-year old at a movie at 8pm on a Saturday is a good idea (which it isn't)...may I suggest that you please NOT sit in different rows and then 1 hour through the non-G rated movie, send the 7-year old to find his mother (seated next to me) some rows back. The 7-year will proceed to "whisper" mom....mom.....mom. Guess what kid, probably 75% of the females in that theatre were moms (non-silent whisper). Bad move parents of the year...bad move!

4. Tim McGraw should get hair implants...he looks good without the cowboy hat...but with hair.

5. After seeing this movie, I felt the need to go adopt someone. To which my husband rolled his eyes and said, "Not every adoption will end up with an NFL star." Toatlly missed the point and I still want to adopt someone.

And thus concludes Random Thoughts by Jack Handy
(Saturday Night Live, circa when it was still funny)

Tomorrow I tackle Christmas decorations and the blue bird.

Sugar Masterpieces...or not.

I live in the lovely town of Tulsa and for years we have loved being here. However there has always been one thing I don't think I will ever understand. The Tulsa STATE Fair. Most towns, even little bitty ones, have a fair. However Tulsa has chosen to induct itself the 51st State apparently as our fair is the Tulsa STATE Fair. Not the Oklahoma State Fair, that is in Oklahoma City. I could discuss the awkwardness of this name for some time, but that is not what I am here for this evening. So, the Tulsa State Fair will hence forth be know as The Tulsa Faux-State Fair...cause it is stupid and Tulsa is not a state.

One of the attractions, if you will, at this faux-state fair is the Oklahoma Sugar Art Show. For anyone out there who enjoys The Food Network as I do...you may have stumbled across a Food Network Challenge a time or two. My personal favorite are the cake challenges where competitors have 8 hours to make a figment of their imagination come to life through cake. One of the regular judges is Kerri Vincent. A lovely, no crap taking lady from the British way. She, come to find out, started this Sugar Art Show at The Tulsa faux-state Fair and it has become one of the largest shows of it's kind in the US of A. So my friend and I decided to venture down to the faux-State fair and have ourselves a gander.

There is a theme and this year it was something regarding Sand & Sea or Beach & Sun or Sea & Mermaids. Just think NOT Oklahoma...Florida, Hawaii, beachy, oceanie...you get it. There are various levels from novice to professional.

Our first example is of what TO do. This contestant went the nautical ocean route...beautiful!

The next correct cake follows in the sea sailing way of life with a journey around the world and a very cool world at that.

One more pretty one and then it's on with the real reason for this post...the not so pretty ones. :) This one was not following the theme and I don't know why, but don't really care cause it is crazy cool. It was 4 sided and was hand painted...talented people make me sick...but I like to look at their work!

And now ladies and gentlemen...for your viewing pleasure, I have a few "interesting" cake designs for us to discuss.

Round 1. Mermaids. Pretty ones. Ones whose behinds are disturbingly disproportionate and kinda remind me of weeble wobbles. And playboy mermaids that are just plain disturbing. The following photo may be unacceptable for younger audiences...view discretion is advised.

As an event planner, I do about 30-35 wedding receptions a year. I have seen boring cakes, cakes that are growing warts, bleeding cakes, melting cakes, cupcake cakes and others I wish not to mention. So when we came across the following cake in the wedding tiered cake division I was impressed. Until I looked at the lower portion. To which my friend says..."are those poops on a wedding cake?" I think they are pine cones, but even so...is that much better than poops?

Our next little gem was registered under the Novelty Cakes category. Here's the thing with this cake...execution is actually impressive. My issue...why is there a weenie dog & a shoe, a high heel shoe, on a cake. Am I missing the connection here people? As I was standing in front of the display trying my hardest to figure out what was the meaning of this cake...I hear..."Go...move...that dog staring at me and freaking me out." Oh dear friend...you crack me up. But alas, she was right...time to move on.

The friend who joined me on this field trip is who introduced me to blogs and blogging and for her I owe my first born. She lead me to http://www.cakewrecks.com/

It is here that I discovered the Naked Mohawk-Baby Carrot Jockeys. What is a Naked Mohawk-Baby Carrot Jockey you ask...see for yourself...have a laugh.

http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/2008/06/naked-mohawk-baby-carrot-jockeys.html

My sister & my friends...let this be a request...when that day finally comes that I get to have a baby and a baby shower is planned...Please refrain from the naked Mohawk baby carrot jockey cake...please.

Now that you are familiar with this tasty bit of blogging history...I introduce you to the Semi-Naked Mohawk Middle-Aged Baby Carrot Jockey Cake.

Only at the Tulsa Faux-State Fair people. I love it!

And now I will conclude this post with 2 dedications.

1. To our dear friend Dubbs. She spent the last year+ on Laungiland. Her favorite retreat was a beach with a light house. On our visit last November Dubbs took us there and I must say...most peaceful place I've ever been. So during our field trip to the Tulsa Faux-State Fair, Dubbs...we found you wedding cake. Now...we need a groom!

2. To my niece who LOVES the move it move it show, a.k.a. Madagascar I & II. I know this guy is from the second movie...but don't know his name...but Ella, this is for you.

So until next week...signing off from The Tulsa Faux-State Fair!

Happiness Is...

When I was of a younger age, I had this book called Happiness is a Warm Puppy. It was a faux book if you will as it was a 4" square and only 10-15 pages. The story was about Snoopy and how no matter what crapiness was going on (pretty sure they didn't use crapiness in a children's book, but whatever) a warm puppy makes it all better. Truer words have never been spoken!

This is my warm puppy, Ruby:

The eyes just kill me...so does the breath!

Anyway, yesterday I couldn't get myself to concentrate and focus at work to save my life. For 8 hours I kept busy and did nothing. I went home last night, made dinner & ate it with my Husband (which is an accomplishment considering we are still in season...yeah golf), played with my warm puppy, started the cleaning process on the house, took in the premier of Grey's Anatomy. With the jock jams soundtrack playing in my head this morning...I was determined that today was going to be a better, more productive day. Off I go...out the door early which means:

Happiness in the form of a Starbucks, non-fat peppermint mocha! Wahoo! (I once saw a former co-worker/boss/volunteer man at Starbucks. He is 75-85 depending on who you ask. He kindly offered to buy my drink and if you knew him you would understand there is no point in protesting as he WILL get his way...just save yourself the time and say thank you. He ordered his black coffee and I ordered the above drink. He slowly turned to me and said "Are you getting coffee or dessert?" Ouch. What better way then to start you day with dessert? Really.)

Anyway, back to the day at hand. As I am waiting for my chocolate happiness in a cup, I look out the window and see this:

A smile burst across my face just as my name was called for my Chocolatey goodness. So you see boys and girls...always listen to Snoopy...cause happiness is a warm puppy...and a warm cup of chocolatey goodness. So here's to hoping today is more productive than the day previous. Happy Friday and a warm puppy to all!

The S Word

Last month, prompted by the Tour de France, my husband and I bought bikes, bicycles. I was a little hesitant to spend that much on a piece of "exercise equipment" as I am not much of an exercise fan, however I have been pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoy it. Now, I must get something straight that previous to purchasing the bikes I was unaware of. There are bike riders and there are cyclists.

Bike Riders...own a bike. Have a helmet. Enjoy an hour (10-15 mile) ride. Wear an ipod while riding. Wear tennis shoes, gym shorts and a t-shirt while riding. Overall an enjoyable experience.

Cyclists...cherish their bike like it is something they bore from their womb. Have a helmet, sunglasses and gloves that could withstand a nuclear explosion. Ride EVERY day...wind, rain, sleet, monsoon. Ride 100+ miles EVERY day, just for fun. DON'T wear an ipod while riding...it detracts from the focus. Wears padded spandex, special shirts with aerodynamic tendencies and pockets in the back to hold your worldly possessions & clip in shoes that are basically bolted to the petal. Overall this is a different breed.

We are bike riders.

So we did rather well, going 3 times a week for about the first month. The last two weeks have been sans bike rides as my husband was preparing for a major tournament at his course and I have an extreme ability to convince myself I have other things to do. Anywho, yesterday was our first day back on the bikes...thank God! So off we go to the river for a nice ride. I of course notify my husband that this will be easy...NOT 12 miles as fast as we can as it has been 2 weeks and my body reverts to it's former glory very quickly. Start off, feeling good, great playlist working in my ears with my new "skull candy" head phones (which I very highly recommend). About mile 4.5 as I am pedaling along to Amy Winehouse's Rehab...I spot it...just as the chorus of "no, no, no" blares in my ears.

About 10 inches long...black...slithering...AUGHHH! THE S WORD. Oh dear Lord...I am getting the heebie geebies just typing about it.

I have an immense fear of the S word. I don't know why. Nothing ever happened to me as a child concerning these evil things, no major trauma to my knowledge. Maybe it's the fact they brought evil into the Garden of Eden for all the world deal with? Whatever the cause...if you want to get me to stop talking, turn the channel, RUN, leave wherever I am...speaking of, seeing a picture of or God for bid seeing an actual S Word is the way to do it.

Now back to my tale. So my legs went into mach 12 while I was repeating "la la la...no no no" shaking my head...people around probably thought I was having a seizure. So I got to mile 5.5 rather speedy, looked at my husband with big eyes. He was laughing.

Of course, we had to turn around to get back to the car and thus had to return to the scene of the crime. Thankfully, Mr. S Word had gone...into the grass, into a hole, run over by a Cyclist...we will never know. So about mile 8 I finally inhaled and finished our lovely ride...sans The S Word.

Mental Exhaustion

I'm such a bad blogger...over a month in between posts...My bad. Now that that is out of the way.

My past month has been filled with multiple (5 I think) wedding receptions (for work, not fun), a trip to Iowa for a family reunion, some house guests and apparently a roller coaster ride. No, I did not get to go to a theme park (however that sounds fun and I need to look into it), my hubby has started his search for a Head Professional job.

Now, first I must start by saying that I have 100% confidence in his abilities and believe that ANY club would be lucky to have him...however, I may be a little biased. Whatever, I'm a wife, I'm supposed to be! AND IT'S TRUE.

So our combined mental state over the past week or so has been very bi-polar if you will. However, the blessing in this is that when he is down I am usually up and vice versa, so I can talk him into confidence when needed and he can help me to simmer and realize that I am a freak of planning and I tend to put the cart before the horse.

This process entails a lot of preparation, late nights of resume and cover letter writing and patience. The first 2 I got in the bag...done it a million times, no problem. The last one...not so much. As my Dad says...."I have the patience of a land mine." So a few things to note:
A) This process could take from 3 months to over a year...it's all about finding the right fit.
B) I am a planner and I can't PLAN anything...it's not in my control and that is driving me nuts. Apparently I am a smidge of a control freak.
C) The idea of a head pro job means a move, a new house, possibly a new job for me, possibly a new state...who knows...did I mention I can't plan this?

Oh, this is going to be interesting.

So the first resume was sent out this afternoon and hopefully many more to come. So if you pray...pray for my patience and my husband's understanding of his planner freak of a wife. If you cross your fingers...cross all 10 and your toes that we land where we should. If you wish, wish upon a star for anything!

The Blue Bird

My mom and aunt recently took on the task (not a little one mind you) of going through my Gram's things (she passed on a few months ago) and passing down where wanted / needed. Among the glass Christmas ornaments, purple glass trinkets, dish towels (enough to clean & dry all the dishes in every cafe, restaurant, bar, pub and hot dog stand in New York City), sheet sets, jewelry, furniture and dog beds was found The Blue Bird. The Blue Bird is a 1967 Robin Egg Blue Style-Mate Standard Zig-Zag Singer Sewing Machine, Model 347.

As mentioned in a previous post, I have recently found myself turning into a domestic...goddess, not so much...diva, goodness I hope not...student. A domestic student...that fits. So mom called and asked if I would want it. Uh...YES PLEASE. I have never sewn before, however I have always wanted to learn. In recent years, our friends have been producing kids like rabbits. So I thought I could learn to make quilts and give me something to do while hubby is working 80 hours a week. So of course I jumped on the offer for The Blue Bird.

It has found a home in my sun room!

So this evening I decided to learn to sew...duh duh duhhhhhhhhhh.

No blood was drawn, no cursing uttered and no animals were harmed in the sewing expedition. However, I did do this:

I know...it's just two things of fabric sewn together...but hey, they weren't attached when I started. So in my book...it was a success. Thanks Gram!

A Brave Man

Friday afternoon I was working away in my office, minding my own business when this smacks into my window:Now let me inform you all that I work on the 29th floor. This modern day crazy man is washing my window and I am sure getting paid a hefty sum as he is dangling 29 stories above pavement...defying gravity by a ROPE. Not a bungee cord, not a steel wire...a rope. Similar to the rope in the back of my husband's truck that he uses to hold down a mattress, granted this one is a smidge thicker, but none the less a rope. Basically he sitting on a wooden swing, just large enough for his bum. There is a painter's bucket of soap water attached to the wooden swing and attached to his harness is a suction cup on steroids that he smacks against the window as he moves from side to side cleaning away. Needless to say for the 3 minutes he was suspended outside my window, no work was accomplished. Brave man...interesting career choice...thanks for the sparkling view.

Osmosis

This week is the Member Guest tournament at my husband's golf course. For those of you not aware...a Member Guest is usually 3 or 4 days of golf, aiming fluid (aka alcoholic beverages), obscene noises and gestures, food and of course, is men only. The hubby is running it, not playing in it, so it gets a smidge hectic for the boys working it. In an attempt to make their lives better during this not so favorable week, (by the way: it is 100+ degrees all week here in Oklahoma) I decided to make them some sweets. I found a recipe for Chocolate Pecan Coconut Bars and decided to give it a whirl. One problem...I don't own a food processor. I quickly remedied that with a purchase and away we go.

Now, flash back 5+ years when I met my husband. I was working too many hours for too little money just out of college, so cooking & baking wasn't at the top of my priorities list. I've always enjoyed the activity, just didn't have time to do it. Okay, flash back to present time...

Ya there?...good...we continue:

So when I purchased the new gadget my husband gets a familiar smirk and just shakes his head. "What is the obsession with cooking? You didn't have that when we met!" So I promptly corrected him and said, "I've always had it...I just didn't have TIME!" But as I was using the shiny new processor last evening (by the way, cool little device, should have bought one a long time ago), lightning struck. It's OSMOSIS!

I know...you are confused. Follow me if you can:

My engagement & wedding rings are a family heirloom from my husband's side. Gooney, his Great-Grandma, was the original wearer of the rings. When he got the rings to give to me, he took them to a jeweler to have them cleaned and sized. When he picked them up, the jeweler told him that they found dough (maybe pie crust) in the settings. Now that I have worn them for 4 years...I believe that my "new found" cooking/baking fascination is the doings of Gooney...through Osmosis!

Another mystery solved. Tonight I venture into the world of Raspberry filled Cupcakes with Chocolate frosting. Mmmm.

Invasion of the Ankle Bitters

For the past 3 weekends, we have had the joy of having friends & family visit our humble abode.
Here are some highlights...

Round 1 was my mother-in-law Evin & our 5-year-old niece Faith. They ventured to Oklahoma from Western (way South-Western...almost Mexico) Texas. This visit taught me a great lesson...kids like things simple. For 3 days we playing in water in some form or fashion...pool, water balloons, sprinkler, slip n' slides, bubbles, sidewalk chalk...simple people I tell ya...they love it!

So here we have Ms. Faith...thuroughly enjoying spraying herself. The valve for the hose is on her right. She very deliberatly placed the sprinkler in front of herself...ran to the valve and sprayed herself...by her own free will...multiple times! Hey, the girl was having a ball, so who were we to stop her!








During their visit, Faith brought her favorite game, Pretty Pretty Princess. Needless to say, we played this on multiple occassions (Great Game, by the way). My favorite instance was when she got to play with Tio. (Tio is my husband, her Uncle. Tio is uncle in Spanish) So here is the evidence of how grand my husband is in jewels...enjoy.

Next up was one of my best friends and her family. I have known Angie since we became lab partners in 8th grade. Ang is one of those friends that I get to see every couple of months and it seems as though not a moment has gone by. She knows all my stories, was there for most of them and we both are still holding out hope that we will once again live in the same town. Fingers crossed. So I was beyond excited to have them come visit. Highlights:

We visited the Tulsa Zoo...pretty good zoo. Not too big, but still quite a bit to see. Hands down best time at the Zoo would be Mya & Angie riding a Camel. Yes a camel: big hump, full of water, spits, usually found in the desert (which Oklahoma can be mistaken for the desert at times). Even better the camel's name was Angie which Mya thought was just hilarious!

When they arrived Mya was not too impressed with our dog Ruby. One thing you must understand about our boxer: she is 5, energy of a puppy when new humans come in the house for about the first 20 minutes. Crazy nubbin shaking, which intern creates the entire backside to "dance", excessive air licking hoping to make contact with anything, panting, sometimes drooling depends on the day. So to an almost 3-year-old who is face to face with the craziness that is Ruby upon entering our home...I don't balme her that she was not a fan. However, as proven by the photo below, she quickly overcame that, Ruby calmed down and they became the best of friends! And then there was Jackson. He just chills. Hangs off the side of his stroller and takes it all in. As his sister is the older of the two, I would say he has the right idea. Just take it all in bub!

Finally we have Ella, Jack & my sister Molly. What a grand time. Nothing like your sister; period. So the weekend began with getting things unloaded and settled. Of course when anyone from Kansas visits there is usually a haul of things that are sent with them. This go round it was items from my Grandparent's that had been passed down, to include: a gigantic snowman, my Gram's sewing machine (which I am SO excited about), Christmas ornaments, and one of the final hats that were made for my Papa's grain elevator...they were probably made in the 70s. So of course we had to get photos of the kiddos in their Great-Papa's hat. (Jack was named after him, so that only seemed appropriate!)

Recently I have found my inner Martha Stewart and have been dabbling in cooking and baking. Don't get too excited, it's nothing fantastic, but I have fun with it and helps to pass the time during my widowed moments of the summer. So it was decided that Ella and I would make Cake Balls. If you have not been introduced to Cake Balls, please pause - open another internet window - and go to http://www.bakerella.com/. She has the expertise in Cake Balls and Cake Pops. Hers are amazing and she provides directions for EVERY holiday, even the one's you didn't know existed. Anywho, that was the inspiration for our foray into Cake Balls. I have made them before and one of the steps involves smashing a cake into millions of pieces and then smoosing it with icing with your hands. What 3-year-old wouldn't enjoy that? Well now, let's not lie...I had as much fun as she did. We then dip the Cake Balls in melted chocolate and Ellas selected the decoration of sprinkles. And melted chocolate is NOT meant to stay in the pot...it's just a complete waste of fantastic chocolate if it doesn't cover some part of a face...which it did!

Off we go...

And so it begins...the world of blogging. I was recently Tagged...as in tag your it...by my friend Lisa in her blog. Instructions...tag 5 friends you think should start a blog. And since I am such a rule follower, here we be. That and the fact that we are in golf season, meaning that I am now a golf pro's widow. Now, for those of you who are thinking you are reading the blog of some famous, golf playing, seen on tv, Tiger Woods wife...sorry to disappoint. My husband is the other golf pro, the one that runs a golf course/country club, teaches lessons, runs tournaments, business type golf pro. So traditionally from April to October he sees the lesson tee and pro shop WAY more than the inside of our home. Thus, I have some time on my hands and thought "huh. great day to start a blog."

As we progress I certainly hope to make this place a little prettier and eye catching but hey, it's only day one. So here is to day one, post one and more to come. As my 3 year old niece says...(we will have more stories from her I am sure)...DIT.

That is what she says when you clink glasses instead of cheers. Why? We have no idea, but aren't going to argue with a 3 year old.