Boo!

from the ParkHopper Menagerie

aww...who are you trying to kid, ZoePig? You'r just too sweet to be a mean, nasty witch!


I just don't have the heart to tell my little "Easter Bunny" that the eggs are supposed to go inside the basket.

Does anyone else have a caption for my poor objectified pets?

Three Hundred

Well, Blogger tells me this is my 300th entry. And this gave me quite the case of writer's block. Originally, I thought I wanted to do some sort of retrospective, but I figure that would take the wind out of the sails of my year-in-review (coming in about two months). Instead, I thought I'd focus on the number 300.
It is a triangular number and the sum of a twin prime (149 + 151), as well as the sum of ten consecutive primes (13 + 17 + 19 + 23 + 29 + 31 + 37 + 41 + 43 + 47).

In bowling, a perfect score, achieved by rolling strikes in all ten frames.

The lowest possible Fair Isaac credit score.

Its Roman numeral is CCC.

In the year 300, the magnetic compass for navigation was invented in China (approximate date), and a Sanskrit collection of fables and fairy tales, the Panchatantra was written in India.

With their 48-3 victory over Bowling Green on Sept. 12, 1998 the Nittany Lions marked their second win of the season and Joe Paterno marked the 300th victory in his career as a head coach. Only three other Division I head coaches have reached that mark, (Bear Bryant, Pop Warner and Amos Alonzo Stagg), and Paterno reached it in fewer games than any of them.

College Football

I just went to the AOL Sports site to check on Penn State's day yesterday (it's hard for me to track them when they're not in the top 25) and I noticed something very disturbing. Coming into yesterday's games, Rutgers is ranked #16. Rutgers! They were the fluff team Penn State would play every couple of years. Seriously. Rutgers?

Penn State started out pretty dreary, much like the season (don't quote me on this -- I'm not a religious follower of the NCAA -- it's more anecdotal) two years ago when we lost to the fluff teams at the beginning of the season and then beat all the big boys at the end. The boys in blue are 6-3 and I think they'll be able to pull out wins over the next three weeks. Wisconsin is ranked #16, so they'll be a challenge, but after that there's Temple, who is 1-8 and then Michigan State, who is 4-5.

I'm still baffled by the whole Rutgers thing. Who would've thought there would come a day when PSU, FSU, MSU, and Miami were shut out of the Top 25 in favor of Rutgers, West Vigrinia, and Boise State?!? It's a world gone mad, folks!

--------------------------

Programming Note: My next post will be #300 in this particular incarnation of my blog. Look for something special when I have time to put it together.

Beware the Enthusiasm!

Yesterday afternoon, my boss mentioned that the holidays are coming up (duh!) and that maybe I could use some money and I should think about coming in for an extra day of work. My response? "Sure! I'd love to!" He thought I was being sarcastic. Nah... I just enjoy a good paycheck. Besides, I think he's torn about how best to replace the flaky temp, and I'm glad to help out in the interim. And I'd rather be paid for an extra day than squeeze extra work into my existing work days.

Later he mentioned the fleeting thought that I should be there every day. (apparently Wednesday night our computer system went down in striking fashion and our part-timer didn't handle pressure or stress of that magnitude very well.) I laughed. Hard. And told him that my job was too exhausting to do every day.

Then he got worried that I don't like the job anymore. Rest assured, boss - one of the things I love about my job is that it wears me down. It's not the kind of stress I can't handle. It's just the kind of stress I'd rather not handle seven days a week!

The Outside World...

Sometimes I think that if I didn't have to leave the house, I wouldn't bother. I wouldn't grocery shop or go to the gas station, that's for sure! The outside world... strange things happen there...

I spent 20 minutes - Literally. 20 minutes - this evening waiting in line to get a car wash that was about to expire. I actually called Scott because we were supposed to be meeting at Publix to get some shopping done. He said he would just start without me (read: buy lots of meat). So I sat there while the 3 - yep, only 3 - cars ahead of me went through the wash. The old man in the Cadillac took at least two tries to enter his code properly. I wanted to honk. Instead I practiced deep breathing and listened to the radio. At the end of the car wash, there were still love bug splatters on my windshield, and my antenna topper was gone. I'm not too sad about the topper- I recently noticed that the gold sparkles were at least half gone. But I'm disappointed that the windshield isn't even clean.

So I finally met up with Scott in the last row of the store. We conferred, decided to get some deli meat, bought more peaches (we're on a cobbler kick), and I grabbed some Special K bars, which were on sale BOGO.

Back at home, I opened up the Special K bars to add them to the box-o-snacks in the pantry and was surprised to find only five bars in the box. Where was the sixth? I had Scott count them again, and he also counted five. I got on a tangent and started to rant (who? me? rant?) about being ripped off while opening the next box. I made sure to count the bars to make sure I hadn't been ripped off AGAIN, and I got to four... five... six... seven?!?!? Yep - seven. So I ended up with the right amount after all, but in the wrong proportions. I only got five chocolate drizzled, and seven of the peach-berry. I submitted a comment on specialk.com (yes, there truly is a website for everything!) telling them they needed to hire people who could count without using their fingers. Actually, I was very polite. It was too humorous to resort to mud-slinging.

And THEN, as if today hadn't been random enough, I got some "personalized recommendations" from Columbia House.

Dear JAMIE thank you for putting my name in CAPS so that I would recognize myself,
Since you've previously purchased Tom Cruise movies, may we recommend these great flicks to complete your collection! funny...I thought I was boycotting Tom Cruise. I guess that's what I get for buying Top Gun on clearance for my husband who doesn't think the man is crazy!

Mission: Impossible 3 (Pre-Order) - I didn't understand the first M:I movie, didn't see the second, but hey - maybe I'll buy the third? umm... no

Mission: Impossible 2 Special Collector's Edition - "Own this bonus-filled special edition now!" Gee... do the bonus selections explain the movie? If not, I'm not
interested.

Mission: Impossible Special Collector's Edition - Didn't like the movie... don't
like the guy. Are we seeing a common thread here?

War of the Worlds - The most over-exposed man in Hollywood joins the most over-exposed child in Hollywood. Besides, I believe it was on this movie tour when Tommy Boy lost my respect by couch jumping, bashing Brooke Shields, and lecturing Matt Lauer.

Interview With the Vampire Special Edition - Horror + Tom Cruise = no thank you

Far and Away - He should take his fake Irish accent far and away.

Jerry Maguire Special Edition - You had me at... Hell No!

Perhaps it's best that I return to work tomorrow. I've obviously had a little too much time to examine my surroundings in the past few days. It's been nice while it lasted.

A Perfect Fall Day

Yesterday between my appointment with Dr. Ponytail and a trip to the movies, Scott and I spent an hour enjoying an absolutely perfect fall day.

The weather was in the 60's.

There wasn't a cloud in the sky.

We split a caramel apple and some pumpkin fudge.

And we watched the world go by.

It just doesn't get any better than that!

Mail Call

From the ParkHopper Mailbag:



I know it's hard to read, but I had to share this postcard I got from my darling mother. I read the top line and laughed until my stomach hurt. Scott says he doesn't think she was being funny. I know that my mom knows her audience and stopped sending Jesus rhetoric to me long ago. Anyway, the original printing from the postcard says:

Formed millions of years ago by volcanoes, glaciers and other natural forces, the Colorado landscape is an awe-inspiring blend of mountains, lakes, forests, and plains.

And mom changed the first line to read, "Formed thousands of years ago by God..."

...and she sent the Colorado postcard from Texas, which makes it even better!

Feline Critics

Scalzi's Monday Photo Shoot this week encourages us to show off our creative sides: Take a picture of something you've made. Pottery, cookies, a drawing or painting, a poem or a pipe cleaner stick man -- it's all good, it just has to have been made by you. Show off your creativity.

I figure I had two options for this Photo Shoot: the blueberry muffins I made for breakfast yesterday or art from grade school. In keeping with my tradition of using the Photo Shoot for "Caption the Cat," I decided to expose the cats to two remaining art projects. It's true -- everyone's a critic!

Milo seems to just love this chalk drawing of a daffodil I made in the fifth grade. I actually figured he'd go for the other, since he likes to lick the shine off of pictures!

Kilo, meanwhile, gets up close and personal with this film etching I did in seventh grade. The etching was the only piece ever submitted to an art show - it went to Burlington County Teen Arts, which means it was hung in a mall over a weekend. The tape pieces at the bottom once held the little card proclaiming my name, grade, and school. The card is long-gone, but that tape is there forever!

Your turn - what do you think that the cats think of their exposure to ParkHopper Gallery?

Do They Make 12-Step Programs for Cats?

Honestly, I've put fresh turkey odds and ends on the floor and not gotten this kind of reaction. I think perhaps they both have a problem!

So why the bottle of champagne on the floor? Well, I wanted to take a picture, but didn't want cereal boxes or other assorted foodstuffs in the picture. Instead I got cats. Oh well... that's my life!!

And in case you were wondering about the champagne on the living room floor, it's a bottle of Piper-Heidsieck Brut 1998. And it was a gift. Or a leftover. Or maybe a perk. At any rate, it's mine now and I can't wait for an excuse to celebrate and open it up - like maybe Halloween. Do you think this is a vintage that goes well with bulk chocolate?

Boil Your Own Eggs

Dear lazy people of the world,

Egg salad is not difficult to make. First you hard-boil the eggs. Then you let them cool. Then you peel them. Then you slice them. Then you add mayo and whatever else you want (I recommend horseradish dijon, diced celery, and a dash of paprika) and stir. Viola!

Not only to you get the pleasure of serving your family something home made, with no preservatives, but you're less likely to be infected by bacteria that can kill kids and old people.

Really, boil your own damn eggs.

Sincerely,

The ParkHopper

The Duck Theory

Tonight, I was talking with one of my managers about all of the craziness last night. We both had the same philosophy - we knew that a lot of planning had been done ahead of time, but inevitably things change at the last minute and hilarity ensues. And all you can ever do is roll with the punches.

He mentioned the duck theory, which I had never heard of before. Watch a duck swim across the water. From our point of view, the duck seems to just glide wherever it wants to. It seems perfect and effortless. But just below the surface, it's little feet are going **flap flap flap** in a crazy dance. It's a pretty great metaphor for life in the hospitality business.

Chef had me make 10 extra menus today (just front & back of the same paper - not fancy like last night's) for the culinary team. They were so popular I had to make 10 more. And he said I did a great job last night. I'm pretty sure he caught wind of the fact that I nearly melted down between menu printings #1 and 2. And since NG stopped showing up, they seemed a little worried that I might follow suit.

Pah! I love my job. I think being a duck leg suits me just fine.

And now, a picture that has nothing to do with this post. It's called "I Found Nemo."

The Big Night

Last night at work was huge. We were doing this big fancy dinner (yes, bigger and fancier than our normal dinners, and with a nearly three-times fancier price tag) complete with guest Chef, wine educators, and representatives of two vineyards.

This big fancy dinner involved special menus (no sweat there... I'm a menu Goddess!) that were two pages instead of just one (which, by the way, I designed on the fly two days ago and our Chef let me run with it). We had the menu "finalized" a few days in advance. We had the guest list (oh yeah - the menus were personalized, of course!). And it seemed we were going to have this smooth event.

{insert manic laughing here}

Well, things yesterday weren't smooth. Actually, I hear the dinner was fabulous. But behind the scenes, it wasn't pretty. I ended up waiting to print the menus because the kitchen was waiting for a shipment of beef. Then we had to change one of the herbs. I got final wine approval from my boss and started printing.

This story would go on for three more paragraphs if I let it. Let's just say I ended up printing out 3 copies of the menu -- one after the seating so that the guests would go home with menus that reflected wine changes #2 and 3. The copies that were at the tables at 6:30 (when the event started) didn't even leave my office until 6:20. On a good day, I have my menus done 30-45 minutes ahead of the seating. This was not a good day.

It was definitely an interesting experience, and I'm wondering if they'll do it again next year.

Of course, yesterday might have gone a little more smoothly if NG had bothered to show up for work. I asked both bosses and the secretary who hired him if they had heard from him or knew why he might not be there. Nope. And with the boss, that was the whole conversation: "Do you know why NG might not be here today?" "No." End of discussion. So if he does show up today (I give him 3:1 odds he's never coming back. Scott says he's just not coming back) I don't even know if I'm supposed to say anything to him.

...And if he doesn't come back, I fear we'll have to re-key our door. He has a key, and the managers have a ton of wine/silver/stemware/china stored in there. And let's be realistic - it's not like hotel security is likely to stop anyone from walking out with a big box of stuff!

If it turns out he's dead in a ditch, I'll feel a little guilty about being worried about him robbing us blind. Actually, I'm annoyed and barely concerned about his well-being. And I feel guilty about that. oh well. Time will tell, right?

Fun on eBay

This time I'm not buying anything. Really. $6000+ is a little out of my price range for... well... for just about anything!

Stephen Colbert is auctioning off the painting of himself that hung on his set during his first year on the air. Apparently he's commissioned another portrait. Hopefully it's along the same thread, and will be him standing in front of the current portrait. That would be great fun.

And 100% of the proceeds go to Save the Children.

I think you should click on over there and check out the "additional views" of the portrait, especially the extreme close up and the view from outside the studio.

Suing Cracker Barrel for Poor Service? Sign Me Up!

Chris Rock's mother is suing Cracker Barrel for discrimination because she was seated and then ignored for 30 minutes.

Let's examine that sentence for a moment.

First, the CB restaurant closest to me has the worst service on earth. I don't think I've ever had someone come to take my order in LESS than five minutes. And it has many times taken longer than that.

Second, who would wait 30 minutes before complaining to a manger? My threshold is 10. Well, after 3 minutes, the waitress's tip starts going down (restaurant common guest service is to stop at the table and say hello within 1 minute. if you can't stop and say "I'll be right with you" on your way to drop off someone else's food, you deserve what you get). At ten minutes, I go look for a manager. If you're sitting there for 30 minutes, chances are you were seated in a table that no one knew was theirs, or that your server is COMPLETELY in the weeds. Either way, if you sit there for that long, it's probably because you are looking for something to complain about. And then after Ms. Rock waited 30 minutes to find a manager, she was unhappy with his response:

"He never called over the waitresses and asked, 'Why did these people sit here for a half hour without service?' " she said. "The only thing he said was we could have a free meal and neither of us wanted to eat."

Good for the manager! Only a complete jack@$$ is going to reprimand his employee in the middle of the restaurant. If watching the waitress get yelled at is the only thing that's going to make this boo boo all better for you, then you have some other serious issues. And umm... you sat there for a half hour and didn't want to eat? Then what the eff were you doing there?

Now seems like a good time to point out that I wasn't there. I don't know that the behavior of the employees of the restaurant in question wasn't racially motivated. But this sounds like nonsense to me. This lady said herself on some TV show that she goes to that restaurant for breakfast on a regular basis, and has never had a problem like this. So even if it was a racial incident, why would she sue the entire chain for the isolated behavior of a few employees? Oh wait - I can answer that with another quote from the article...

The Rev. Al Sharpton will join Rock on Wednesday in South Carolina to announce that Sharpton's Action Network will finance the planned lawsuit.

"I'm getting reports from all over the country about Cracker Barrel," Sharpton said
from New York on Tuesday.

Thank you, Reverend Al, for being involved in this important matter.

Why can't people be as outraged at the real news as they are about this?

TV Online

I was out on Monday night and missed my two new favorite shows of the season - Heroes and Studio 60 on NBC. And today I caught them both... on nbc.com.

Now I don't believe that watching streaming video on my computer monitor will ever replace lounging on the couch with a box of Triscuits (and canned cheese... can't forget that!), but I found the entire process much more agreeable than I thought I would.

They show one commercial at the beginning, and one commercial where each of the breaks is. And it's only 30 seconds - not even long enough to go to the bathroom and make it back. So you watch the commercials. Frankly, I think it's brilliant! The video quality is decent, maybe even good for streaming online content. And when Scott called, I was able to pause it.

And now I'll know what's going on next Monday night, and I won't have to wonder how the cheerleader girl came back from the dead.

Hooray for TV online!

Pumpkin Pumpkin Pumpkin Squash

We spent a long and productive afternoon at Epcot with Scott's mom today. I'm pretty exhausted, so here's some lovely pictures in case anyone misses me.

Have you ever seen a Mickey-shaped pumpkin?

A mini pumpkin inside the Mickey training bra

"Pumpkin hammocks" - and I thought banana hammocks were funny!

Squash growing hydroponically dangling from a dry cleaner rack.

Now that they've taken the narrators who don't speak English off of the boats, they can run twice as many, and the wait time today was less than 10 minutes. With a wait that short, The Land boat ride may reclaim its place as one of my favorite no-wait attractions.

Agony and Exhaustion

I've got this thing going on with my back. It's some kind of muscle strain back around my left shoulder blade. It's been there for almost a week. And it's not getting any better. It doesn't hurt all the time - just when I move my left arm, turn my head, or think too hard. Yesterday I took Scott's last two Doans and thought they worked so well I went and bought another box. I've taken them twice since then, and other than making me nauseus this morning (oops... empty stomach... bad call) they have had no noticeable effect.

We bought new pillows last Wednesday, thinking that the marshmallow that wasn't supporting my head was the culprit. I haven't noticed a difference in that either.

Scott tried to get me to stretch my muscles yesterday, contorting my arms like a freaking yoga instructor. It has hurt much more since then. (I'm not blaming Scott - he knows what works for his pain and thought that would work on my pain)

I've also tried the heating pad (with and without moisture), heat patches, menthol patches, asprin, Tylenol, ibuprofen, and this morning in a desperate moment of agony, a hot bath. The bath would have been great if the pain in my back was lower. But in order to get the sore spot into the water, I had to tilt my head so far forward that it just pulled my neck muscles. It was either that or lay with my head under water, which would have caused... umm... death.

As for exhaustion, well I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in the past week. Every time I roll over I have to completely wake up and use the momentum of my butt and legs to get the top half of me to roll. Falling asleep comfortably has been tough, and I haven't gotten to sleep before 1 am this week. Besides that, I woke up at 8:30 yesterday and went to work for a few hours, and then this morning -- my one shining chance to sleep past 9:00 -- the damn lawn crew started up the weed wacker right below our bedroom window.

waaaaaahhhhh!

Holiday Splendor

Well, now that Halloween is approaching, I guess it's about time we all started thinking about Christmas. Scott and I have already gone through the animated Santa aisle at Wal Mart and pressed all of the buttons to make them sing and dance together in the greatest cacophony that ever was. And we checked out some "good" fake trees. We're getting one... as soon as I find one that's the right height that has good sturdy branches to hold those darn heavy Hallmark ornaments.

I also have to get started putting together my Cats in Boxes calendar. This is the year - everyone who thought it was a silly joke is going to be awfully surprised when they unwrap their gift and have to pretend to a) be surprised, and b) love it! I don't know what production time is, but I don't want to have to pay rush charges. I wonder how many I have to order to get a bulk discount?

I've also been thinking a fair amount about Christmas cards. Last year I just e-mailed everyone a picture of Scott and Milo and me in front of our Charlie Brown tree. That simply won't do. This year I have to find something that stands out in the sea of Santas and Wise Men.

I've also been thinking about my place in my extended family pecking order. I've never really counted them all up, but I have about 30 cousins (not counting all of their offspring). And only a handful are younger than I am. On the success-o-meter of life, I'm probably about in the middle. I'm not a lawyer, but I've never been to prison. I don't have a herd of fabulous children... which also means I wasn't a mom before I could vote. I'm not famous, or infamous.

Are any of us better than the others? I'm sure that each of us is better than the others, depending on the scale that we use. I think that we're all great. (except for Steve... I may never forgive him for hanging me upside down by my ankles and making me call him "Uncle Steve") Then why is it that it seems like all of our worth is tied up in our career successes? I mean, I'm not delusional enough to think that my mom brags to her siblings about the fact that I get to eat 5-diamond cuisine or that I have a job where I no longer have to clock in and out. But we all know when someone joins a big-name company or gets into a great grad school. Why shouldn't I be proud that I've got a stress-free job that pays the bills?

So I made a Christmas card tonight. (yes Virginia, there is a tie-in) To me, it says "hey - I live in the middle of the most popular tourist destination on earth, and I had fun this year." I wonder what it would say to the rest of my family.


I love them all, but sometimes I think maybe I'm an otter (play play play... eat fish... play some more) born into a family of beavers (work and build... the one with the biggest dam wins bragging rights).

Does everyone else feel that way about their families? I wonder.

Oh yeah - so how about my card? Would you laugh your @$$ off if you found it in your mailbox, or would you think some unkind snarky thoughts about me?

Caption the Cat, Technicolor Edition

I have combined my favorite new feature, Caption the Cat, with Scalzi's Monday Photo Shoot this week: Turn something an unexpected color. Most photo editing software will let you fiddle with the hue of your photos: Use that feature to make your photo subject a color it would be impossible (or at least, very unlikely) for it to be in real life.

And so I present Milo in Blue:

I know you want to make a great caption for this picture. Personally, I'm even more smitten with him knowing that he looks just as good blue as his natural orange. It just proves that he's the prettiest cat ever.

Never Judge a Donut by its Frosting

*sigh*

Scott and I were doing SO well for SO long with not buying junk food when we went to the store. Then Triscuits were B.O.G.O., and how can you have Triscuits without canned cheese? Then we wanted to try this caramelized pineapple recipe we saw on Take Home Chef. And we needed ice cream for that.

It has snowballed. We could feed a troupe of teenage boys from our pantry.

And did I mention we bought donuts? When I was little, I thought the best ones in the whole world were the Entenmann's chocolate covered donuts. The delicious not-too-dry white cakey goodness surrounded by an almost-hard layer of dark chocolate... Does life get any better than that?

Well I grabbed a box and threw it on top of the junk food heap in the cart. What can I say? I guess I was just overcome by sweet memories. Imagine my surprise when I grabbed one out of the box (roughly 15 minutes after we got home), took a bite, and saw CHOCOLATE cake under the chocolate frosting. What happened to the white cake? Do they sell both now? Oh well, I guess this teaches us all an important lesson about impulse junk food buying:

Read The Label!