dealing with the chronic...

I should not be here with you now.  It's not that I don't dig you.  Because I do.  It's just that I have stuff to do.  I pretend I don't.  I do a couple of things and then a couple more to make it look like I did more than what I actually did and then I call it a day.  But I have been watching a lot of "Hoarders" lately.  It is FASCINATING.  With a capital everything.  And some days I find it a comfort - I do not have that kind of problem!!!  And other days I find it a challenge - I have a similar problem.  Here is the catch phrase that got my attention and alerted me to be sure to keep an eye on myself:  Chronic disorganization.  I think this is hoarding as an infant. You feed it and it grows.  I am 1,000 % chronically disorganized.  I don't mind throwing stuff out - so much.  I just do better at it when I have the distance of some years between looking at it last and letting it go.  I just don't know where the hello kitty to put any and all stuff while it's in purgatory waiting for it's eventual fate.  Nothing is in it's place.  Because mostly there's no designated place for anything.  I know.  I have talked about some of this before.  I talked all about how I was gonna change.  Don't we all, my brothers and sisters?  But watching that show, hearing that phrase, chronically disorganized, I'm taking notice.  So, right now, I should be upstairs.  In the "upstairs kitchen".  The "upstairs kitchen" is the area upstairs that was, in fact, a kitchen at one time.  A widower lived in this house prior to us and had turned it into a two-family home for his daughter and her son to share with him.  The daughter essentially had an apartment upstairs with a kitchen of her own.  We couldn't use it as kitchen - nor did we want to- according to the terms of our loan.  I was convinced that kitchen was the reason that this nice large house stayed for sale for so long.  Probably I should have paid more attention to the nefarious goings-on in the section 8 apartments at the bottom of our street and the decline of the other homes to the left and right of us as the true cause of the problem.  But I saw promise in that there upstairs kitchen.  I saw cabinets and counters and a sink and by golly, I was gonna craft it up with my impending children.  Scooby was 6 months old when we bought the house and a boy so I wasn't fully invested in his crafting interests and held out hope for the more to come.  But I forgot that I am lazy.  I don't like to clean messes which means that I don't encourage situations that cause messes.  Which means that  the upstairs kitchen has become a catch-all for all things craft related and  toys that haven't quite made it all the way to either of the rooms inhabited by children.  And my scrapbooking stuff.  Oh.  That's right.  I'm one of those people.  I LOVE scrapbooking.  And I don't understand anyone who doesn't.  I started out with the ginormous Creative Memories tote galore courtesy of my generous mother.  But then I entered my first scrapbook store and all bets were off.  Creative Memories was fine - and to many, it still is.  But I'm all about patterned paper and embellishments and Creative Memories is not.  Creative memories is about stencils and circles and journaling.  It's very minimal.  And, I'm sorry but their style is very distinct and I don't much care for it.  It's formulaic and plain.  I'm about the layout telling the story more than the journaling.  I'm all about the embellishments.  I know.  I said that twice - it's not a typo.  If I am a hoarder, if I am a shopping addict - it's around 2 things: embellishments for scrapbooking and groceries.    I think that I am getting better at the groceries.  I think.  Probably not.  Hubs has to do my budget every month and I keep going over it.  Probably because of groceries.  And clothes.  And scrapbooking stuff.  Look.  Stay on point.  I have a stockpile in my basement of groceries.  I know, I know.  Probably you have seen at least one episode of "Extreme Couponing" on TLC.  Eww.  For real don't compare me (or any of the blogs that I read and support around couponing) with that show or the people therein.  Don't get me wrong.  I believe in the power of couponing AND stockpiling.  And I believe that everyone has a journey to walk through from getting started with both and getting caught up in the thrill and the high of seeing instant gratification at the check-out and tweaking it so that you choose one of two paths:  greedy hoarding or responsible stockpiling.  The people depicted on that show choose the path of the former rather than the latter (since that saying can still confuse me - the former is the first and the latter is the last).  Responsible means that I have 18 bottles of bbq sauce so unless I'm getting it for free (and only then, I would only buy a few more to help see me through to next summer when they are on sale again), there isn't any point in buying more - to do so undermines the whole saving money bit AND it encroaches on hoarding.  Responsible means that if we don't eat spaghetti-os, I don't buy them at any price so that I don't deprive people who go to the store looking to get it super cheap to free because they need it and they need to save money on it.  That stockpile has blessed not just my family but other families who have fallen on tough times.  I can see clearly that God has blessed me to help others with my bargain shopping but it's still my job to be a good steward with the money He provides us.  I'm still fine-tuning my purchasing strategy.  I still make unwise decisions.  Don't we all, my brothers and sisters?  Anywho.  My friend told me that I'm supposed to flee from evil so I really try not to put myself into scrapbooking aisles or stores.  But sometimes it's unavoidable.  Like when I pull into the Archiver's parking lot.  Just kidding!  Sort of.  But I have gotten some truly cute scrapbooking stuff from close-out stores like Big Lots and Tuesday Morning.  Enablers.  hmph. Do you think I needed a new paragraph at any point up there?  Oh well, stick with it.  SO.  About the upstairs kitchen.  I tried to put in a scrapbooking space.  I have tried like heck to organize that space as well as my scrapbooking stuff and it is a nightmare.  It's not pulling together despite the organizers I have to make it do so.  And part of the reason why is that I will never scrapbook in my home.  It's just not going to happen.  I don't know why.  I just know it with certainty.  Which means that my scrapbooking stuff needs to be organized in a way that allows me to take it to crops (which is scrapbookese for scrapbooking event).  That presents with a new problem:  it would appear that I need ALL my scrapbooking supplies with me at any scrapbooking event all the time.  And y'all.  I have alot of scrapbooking supplies.  Alot.  Like hoarding alot.  And since there is no sense of sense when it comes to how I have that stuff put together, I spend most of my time at crops looking for something- anything- everything.  I also spend alot of time walking around because lately, every time I go to a crop my stomach starts getting all bloaty and uncomfortable.  I think it is the sitting.  Which would be weird because I'm all about the sit in my day to day.  Probably a little too much personal info, huh?  Oh well.  Maybe that happens to some of you and you have worked your way through it and have some tips on how to avoid the crop bloat discomfort.  Or maybe that happens to some of you and you had no idea it happens to anyone else.  Or maybe it's just me.  Anywho.  My scrapbooking supplies are - you guessed it - chronically disorganized.   I have tried to go by color but I don't know what to do with dual colored things.  Or patterns.  Or the word red written in blue.  You see what I'm saying.  I have tried to have all ribbons in one place and all stamps and inks in another.  But somehow I start feeling seriously cumbersome.  Maybe.  I can't remember. So long has it been since I have even attempted to get that stuff put together.  Because, remember, I'm a quitter.  If I wasn't successful the first time.  Or even maybe the second or third if I allow it all to go so far, I'm done.  So that is where I should be instead of here, now, with you.  I should be upstairs in the upstairs kitchen disabling my chronic disorganization.  It would make Hubs so happy.  Or laundry.  I should be in the basement doing laundry.  It would make Hubs so happy.

But I'm tired.  It seems like I'm always tired.  On the one hand, I take some medicinal aids that may contribute to my sluggishness.  On the other hand, Hubs likes to tell me that I should exercise more.  Because it gives you energy.  So, you have to have energy to get to the machine where you expend energy to gain more energy.  Exercise is stupid.  And contrary.  And stupid.  And on another hand, it's like 900 degrees outside these days.  It drains a girl.  Especially a girl with hot flashes.  And if I'm mentioning hot flashes, I guess I'm not so much a girl anymore.  I mentioned that a few birthdays occurred during my, ahem, hiatus.  One of those was the big one -my fortieth.  It was awful.  And probably it was awful because I kept saying it was going to be awful and there is alot of science and truth about self-fulfilling prophecies.  And maybe that's why I'm so tired.  I'm old now.  Old people are tired.  They go to bed at like 6:30pm.  Like right after watching the local news and catching the weather forecast.  Because old people are also all about weather.  They have to mention the weather where they are, inquire about the weather where you are (segueing into the all encompassing mystery of time zones and what time is it there because it is 5pm my time and you are one hour away so it's 6pm your time etc. etc.) and they have to be prepared for the weather that is to come.  Even though weather forecasting is some sort of combination of divination and tomfoolery and is always subject to change with no sort of justification or apology from the forecasters who never get it right.  I'm pretty sure that there is a chat room somewhere with virtual dice that all of the weather forecasters enter before showtime and they roll the dice and work together conspiring on some sort of systems map for the entire country that shows the results of the dice rolling.  Kind of like dungeons and dragons where the dice predict the results of a battle that never happens.  None of it is real and all of it is based on imagination.  But I'm not all consumed with weather yet.   Aside from complaining of heat.  I'm hot.  And I'm hot flashing in the hot.  And when it gets cold, I'm going to complain about the cold.  But for now, the heat is making me drowsy.  And the inactivity is making me drowsy.  And the meds are making me drowsy.  And my seemingly constant need for sugar now, sugar crash later foods are making me drowsy.  So if you aren't catching on.  I'm drowsy.  Like all the time.  Which looks cool and aloof if you are some sort of teenage boy heart throb from a movie like "My Sister's Werewolf Boyfriend Has a Hot Vampire Slut Sister I Want to Get With".  But I'm not that.  So I don't look so cool and aloof.  I look tired.  And I sound grumpy.  And I nap.  Which makes me stay up later.  Which makes me miss night sleep.  Which sucks when I have to get up to chauffeur little people around.  Which is exhausting because I still have to fight and yell about sitting down and buckling up.  NOW!  And I nap and start the cycle all over again.

OH!  But as long as I am here, let me tell ya something I am going to try (new!) soon.  I'm combining my crafty side with my sneaky cook side ( I don't know if that Missy Chase Lapine has copywritten the term "sneaky chef" but she has more money than me to duke it out in court so I'm just going to be surreptitious about it all...).  Okay, so you know how when you cook beets it stains pretty much everything?  Oh.  Right.  Beets are kind of gross so probably you don't cook too many beets.  But I cook them and put it sneaky like in my food.  And they stain everything.  Now.  I love ombre.  Between ombre and clothes that have contrasting color stitching - like white stitching on black clothes or vice-versa or some other such situation like so, I could fill a closet with such an adoration I have.  Since I don't sew, I can't personally do the contrast color stitching so much.  But I think I have a line on how to do the ombre.  I just take the white item of choice - likely a white t-shirt for this scenario- and hang it over a vat of dye letting the bottom rest in about an inch or two of it and letting it suspend there for an indeterminate amount of time.  The dye bleeds its way up and gets more concentrated towards the bottom where the dye is feeding in.  So are you putting this all together?  I'm using some of my beet puree as the dye. That's right.  If Martha Stewart can use beet juice as a natural dye for Easter eggs, I can do what I want with that stuff too.  I'm not doing this today.  I told ya.  I got stuff I should be doing.  So I hope to do this sometime this week.  And because I do dig ya, I'll tell ya how it turns out.  Heck.  I might even do a picture to go alongside.  I think I'm going to call my method bleeding beet ombre.

For those of you who read the title and jumped in hoping to hear a little about some sort of green herbage, sorry to disappoint.  I hope you got a kick out of what you did read and reconsider what Nancy Reagan always said:  Just Say No.  And as someone else might have said: Nope to Dope.  That might have been in reference to doping in the cyclist arena.  Or some other such beleaguered sporting league.  But the message remains the same... also, Crack is whack.  And Huffing leaves you with Nothing.  I made that last one up.  That's right.  Just now.  Off the top of my head.  And that concludes our public service announcement section for the day.  Also it concludes my post for the day.  I told ya.  I got stuff to do.

Confliction

I think I just made that up.  I think.  For me, it would mean being afflicted with conflict.  Which is probably redundant.  Because to be conflicted or to be in the midst of conflict is really already an affliction.  Anywho.  I am mortified and unapologetic about the amount of time since my last post.  That's right.  Both.  Here's what's been going on: a dog died.  a step-father died.  a new dog was adopted.  a relationship with God has been strained but not broken.  an addiction has been confronted. 4 birthdays have been observed (no- not all of them were mine.  It hasn't been that long!).  Christmas.  anniversary.  new year.  Easter.  stomach bugs have debilitated.  veggie garden has been planted and enjoyed.  weight has been gained.  memory has been lost.  vacations have been had.  I have been cold.  I have been hot.  I have had hot flashes.  healing continues.  new stuff has happened again and again.  And that is about all I have to say about that.

Let me tell ya something.  I'm intrigued with Jack White.  I'm not crushing on him because Hubs is pretty hot and I don't really need to crush on anyone because I'm not wanting in crush material, you know?  But he was interviewed in Relevant magazine (couldn't get a link to the article so it's page 49) and I was kind of fascinated by what he had to say.  And, I was never into White Stripes but he's supposed to be wicked talented.  Like one of the 100 best guitarists of all time.  Although, I gotta say, I can't think of 100 best bands of all time so that there would be a guitarist in each of those that could be a contender.  I can think of Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix and... Prince - think what you will but that little dude knows his way around a guitar and I'm not just saying that because I had a huge crush on him back in the day).  I don't know.  Maybe music isn't my thing.  You know what my thing is?  Story telling.  Which brings me back to my mention of Jack White.  One of his bands (which he is down to 2 and neither of them are White Stripes) is called the Raconteurs.  So I did some research (and by research I mean, I googled them once to find out the name of their "albums".  Are they still called albums when they aren't technically albums?  Aren't albums vinyl?  So what do you call the compilation of songs that a band releases at one time at this point?) and found a definition for the word Raconteur.  It means: a person who is skilled in relating stories and anecdotes interestingly. (Mad props to definition.com because I never did get that footnote business down so consider this appropriate acknowledgement that would unbind me from any sort of plagaristicness.)  And I thought - with all the humility in the world - HEY!  That's all me all the time!  I am a raconteur.  And I had to click on the listen to the word being pronounced button 3 times so that when I told people that I am a raconteur (obviously in a skilled, anecdotal and interesting way) I would know how to pronounce it properly.  However, I think they just have the program read it in a condescending and phonetic matter and I'm not invested that it was pronounced properly so probably I'm going to sound like a total tool when I try to puff myself up with a title of this magnitude.  Other than sounding like a total tool for using such a hoity word at all.  And also, it might set me up to consistently be skilled, anecdotal and interesting in my storytelling and what if I disappoint?  I mean, I don't think that I disappoint now but surely I will if I attach an expectant title to myself like that.  I have stories to tell.  And sometimes the stories are a verbal, verbose conveyance of my life and the random stuff that goes on within it.  And sometimes the stories are poems or written pieces with symbolism and wonderment and what I hope to be flowing, eloquent language.  And sometimes the stories are without much in the way of words at all but have pictures and scraps of paper and various embellishments.  And sometimes the stories are blog posts that I write with no regularity, some disclosure and as much honesty as I can muster.  And sometimes the story truly has no words at all but is a measure of how I maneuver this world in my day to day life as homage to the true story-teller - the original author - God.  He gave me a voice.  He gave me some talent in the way that I use that voice and I am blessed that He saw fit to allow me to do it in so many ways - all of which I value.

Ultimately, I started this blog as a way to tell stories.  Stories about things that I was trying and doing.  Stories that might feel a little familiar to many people so that we could feel connected to one more person.  To laugh knowing that we do the same kind of stinkin' silly stuff.  Or that it is just me doing stinkin' silly stuff - s'okay.  I can take you laughing WITH me.  Not so much AT me - I am not evolved in that degree at all.  To be frustrated knowing that there are wrongs that need to be righted.  To be sad and mourn that we have all had devastating things happen in our own lives.  To be a little more kind to the next person you come upon because we all walk along with our own confliction.

But I didn't know all that when I started.  When I started, I thought that I could end up like those bloggers that get lots of followers and end up making a little cha-ching from advertisers and getting invited to various blogging events and manufacturing panels and what-not and being famous and well-rounded and - successful, I guess.  So I adopted the SavvyCavy name being all clever and self-congratulatory- mostly about my cleverness.  But when all that other stuff didn't happen - you know, immediately, or uhm, at all... - I was mostly still enjoying the hello kitty out of doing this blog.  And it's because I had a new and satisfying way to tell stories.  But I think that something might need to shift in my goals or something in order to do this with some more regularity.  In order to not sit on the computer for hours trying to get a post done while I swat kids away and repeat the phrase "in a minute" like some sort of turretic chant.  In order to meet your needs as well as mine.  Okay, probably you don't have needs around my posting.  Maybe.  But just in case you do - I want to meet those needs.  I'm a giver.  A giving storyteller.  So.  The question at hand is whether or not I continue on with this blog - with this name and the idea behind it of trying something new every day and telling you about it - on a mutually negotiated and agreed upon regularity OR do I begin a new blog.  One with a new name.  One that would have a different focus - which needs to be defined further than a blanket storytelling theme.  But the same design.  Cuz I just changed that background and design and I'm pretty dang fond of it.  It's feminine and scrappy.  Like me.

I'm interested in feedback on this one.  I'm too lazy to go all surveymonkey on it so just post or something and let me know what you think.  Based on the one, maybe two people who share their opinion, I will consider a decision.  Smooch y'all.

this just in... part two...

I don't often start sentences with "the icing.".  So, when I did my thing where I re-read my post the following day, imagine my consternation (that's right) when one paragraph began exactly that way.  You know what that means?  That blogspot site chaps my ... hide.  This happens frequently.  One time would be confusing.  More than once is frustrating.  We are about to go vexing on this little quirk.  And it is super bothersome as, believe it or not, my posts are stream of consciousness situations.  I jump on, not necessarily knowing what I will be chatting up, and let my freak fingers fly.  So when parts of it go missing, they truly go missing.  I don't ever fully recapture that thought or moment again.  All the spontaneity goes kaput.  My solution?  Well, for today, I have edited last night's post to the best of my recollection.  For the long term?  My normal M.O. would be to stomp my feet and quit blogspot.  I'm a quitter.  Which is cool when it comes to smoking and bad boys and other nefarious (that's right) doings.  But it's not so cool when it comes to - just about anything else.  This time, I will try a new approach (something new, if you will).  I will start doing my post in a word document and then pasting that into my blog.  For some reason, I have this idea that something will be lost in that process but I will squelch that fear for now.  But if blogspot continues to make editorial decisions in which it cuts my post, well, I might have to press a word, if you know what I mean.  You know.  Use a WordPress.  Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more, say no more.  So, we will catch up later.  I have begun my new thing for today and I am looking forward to sharing it with you later.  Word.

this just in...

In point of fact, I did not fall off the face of the earth.  Here's what I want to say.  I want to say that I watched the movie Inception and have been so busy puzzling over it that I couldn't even concentrate on writing something for you.  That my brain was so full of enigmata (that's right.) that truly, I couldn't fit another thing in or figure out how to pull anything out.  That's what I'd like to say.  Because that sounds pretty cool.  However, in keeping with my commitment to being honest, I can't say that.  Because I only just watched it two nights ago.  And it doesn't count for last night because we were at Hubs' work Christmas party.  Prior to that, I was kind of just being.  I was just a human, being.  I think.  Looking back, I'm trying to discern what I was doing on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday night.  As I said, I watched Inception on Friday night.  Pay attention!  Wait.  Okay on Thursday night, I had a mental health tune-up with my person who does that with me.  She's cool.  We hadn't seen each other since far too long ago and had much catching up, healing and processing to do.  Certainly more than can be contained in 50 minutes.  Plus, I dig her as  a real live person and had some interest in some personal stuff going on in her life so we did some post hourly rate chatting.  Don't be a judger.  Probably the people that feel like judging other people for doing therapeutic talking might maybe be people who could really use some.  I'm just sayin'.  Anywho, she wants me to figure out what relaxes me.  Yeah.  Like that's going to happen.  She's stressing me out by even asking this of me.  So. That explains Thursday.  Oh yeah.  Hubs came home on Tuesday.  From San Diego.  Apparently, he had a lovely view of the bay and some fantastic Thai food.  Not to mention some kid-free peace and quiet.  And Monday night football access as we do not have cable.  Apparently, it was like a little vacation for him, all gift-wrapped up in reimbursement bows and per diem wrapping paper.  If I were to suggest such to him, probably he would bemoan the quick turn around time, the fact that he didn't have time to go to do anything to enjoy the town - like the zoo or Lego World, and that he had to, you know, work.  Whatever.  At this point, I would like to point out that it hit 12 degrees while he was in California.  12 Degrees.  Let me tell you how cold that is.  I have to melt my van door in the morning so that we can get loaded up.  That day, as I was getting all my peeps to their destination in my interior heat blasting van, the residue water, of the hot water, that was on the window froze and crystallized.  And didn't thaw out.  So.  At this point, only Wednesday remains elusive.  I'm cool with that.  We have reached a point in this season that it's all rushing by like a blur.

Let's talk Inception, shall we?  I think if  you took another Nolan film - Memento and put that in a blender with Matrix and frapped, it would look similar to this.  That's not a bad thing.  I thought that Memento was a great movie.  Really innovative.  And I LOVE the Matrix Trilogy.  The whole dang thing - not just the first two.  I like Ellen Page and Joseph Gordon-Levitt.  And John Hardy is one to watch at this point.  Leo DiCaprio.  The best work I have ever seen ol' Leo do was in What's Eating Gilbert Grape.  I thought he was brilliant.  Haven't seen a thing since that I feel shows any depth at all.  That dude needs to do a romantic comedy or something.  He takes himself and his "craft" way too seriously.  And I really do not enjoy much of what he does.  I don't seek him out, he generally just tends to be in a movie I'm interested in.  At this point, I can count on him being a tortured soul of some sort.  Much like the one he played in Inception.

Here's where we are at this point.  I started talking about Inception and my brain scrambled just enough to render this incomplete.  And now it is the next day.  It's cool though because I have lots of new stuff to report on.  We didn't finish Inception.  I am going to give it 7 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.  Anything that makes you think that much has got to have something going for it.

The first new I want to get into is Christmas cookies.  Hubs' mom makes them every year.  Every year he pines for them.  And every year I avoid making them.  This year, I made them.  I made the dough (of course it was a Krusteaz sugar cookie mix!  Don't be silly!) and rolled it out.  I got out my cookie cutters.  I made the kids watch while I cut out reindeer, trees, bells, ornaments, gingerbread men and candy canes.  I have a thing.  I made them watch because I hate mess.  Which is ironic given that I am such a and am surrounded by much mess.  Also, I hate chaos and having four kids hone in and fight over cookie cutters and who's turn it is and such is the very definition of chaos.  I cooked my first batch and the cookies were all squished together.  I wasn't counting on them rising and spreading so much.  Those were the eating cookies.  The next batch was a sparse 6 cookies sitting all alone on a huge cookie sheet for to come out correctly.  Much better results.  4 batches later (as I have just the one cookie sheet...), I was in business.  The next thing I did was get out my grandmother's Joy of Cooking.  Seriously.  Every kitchen should have the Joy of Cooking cookbook - even if you don't cook.  It tells you how to dress a table.  It tells you substitutions.  It walks you through how to cut up a chicken.  It has complicated recipes.  It has simple recipes, much like the kids' cookie icing recipe that I needed just then.  It was very complicated.  It was powdered sugar and water.  And you know what it tasted like?  Watery sugar.  No flavor.  No enhancing qualities.  No good.  Also, it was all runny and kept leaking off the cookies. I was so deflated.  This was not at all the experience that I wanted to have in bringing Suzy Homemaker joy to my family's holiday season.  And you know what?  The kids did not give one lick what the cookies looked like or the quality of the icing or where it ended it up.  It was just me and this ideal I had in my head that I alone was holding myself to and not measuring up to.   I was so busy trying to do the perfect Christmas memory thing that I didn't take the time to be in the memory.  Or let anyone else be in it either.  Boo.  Hiss.  It's gonna get a 1 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.  Look.  I still got to eat cookies.  And all I can do is do it better next time.  And soon.  I threw out that icing and I'm looking for a way better recipe ASAP.  Before the cookies get all stale.  Probably I should put them away.  Like in a bag.

The next new thing is fudge.  I know.  We have talked fudge before.  I decided to experiment a little more.  I crunched up some chocolate mint candy canes and stirred those in at the end.  I also used half semi-sweet chips and half bittersweet.  It didn't turn out just right.  It got all grainy.  The candy canes were not so crunchy and some of them were too big.  It's okay.  It's still fudge.  It's not like I'm going to throw it out.  I have a derriere to support.  I'll give it 4 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.  And that is only on a fudge scale.  Which has a different value system than other stuff.  You know, since it's fudge.

Next up is merely a teaser. An amuse bouche if you will.  My mama sent me a Christmas present.  When I called to thank her, I got her voice mail.  What's a girl to do?  I asked her voice mail if I should open it now or wait.  I did not get a response.  So, I took that as a yes, open it now.  You know what it was?  An ice cream maker.  It's pretty.  It's shiny.  It holds serious promise.  If I had had some cream in my house, I wouldn't be here now with you.  I love you and all but the opportunity to create my own Jenny's splendid ice cream?  Don't worry.  I won't use that name.  I'm not mean.  I wouldn't take jeni's name.  I'll make up my own.  Like...Jenny's Jewels ice cream.  And I will use a gem stone in each of the names.  Like Rubylicious Rum Raisin.  Or Diamondback Decadent Double Chocolate.  I don't know.  That's a mouthful.  Alls I know is that I have some Cuisinart goodness (in sassy red, no less) waiting for inspiration.  And cream.  Lots and lots of cream.

Can you take me higher...

I don't know if you have noticed, but my views have bumped up over 1,000.  I'd be all impressed with myself if I could discern with any kind of certainty how many of those views were me.  I have this weird habit of revisiting my posts.  We will call it perpetual proof-reading so that I don't look so vain.  And then we will politely ignore the fact that there are still solid typos within any given post.  Although, I left the word as tattle tales rather than tattle tells.  I think they both work equally effectively.

I tried an experiment today.  I would try to improve my posture when it occurred to me.  It was awkward and slightly uncomfortable.  Because despite all their best efforts, let's face it, we all pretty much blew off the plea to stand up straight from our parents.  We are a schlumpy bunch, we the general population.  I am a good 5'3" - 5'4" on my best day.  I have begun to suspect that I am, in fact 5 feet 9 inches tall which is super exciting because then, this weight changes in all kinds of ways!  But over the years I have developed a non-scoliosis type curvature of the spine that has shrunk me up into a delicious bite-size portion.  Isn't it funny how fake it feels to stand up straight?  It was for me.  I felt like I was trying to pretend that my chest was generous and uppity.  And that I was constantly trying to suck in my guts. Which I could stand to do most any time of day but it feels like a lie.  Like padded push-up bras or horrible horrible comb-overs.  And also, it was a strain on my back to walk around like I had a stick up my patoot.  And, finally, as you can see, there is some awful stigma attached to all the time trying to present ourselves at a confident best.  I don't know.  I'm trying to figure out where and how the pros measure up against the cons.  Is it possible that after a certain point it's simply counter-productive to start standing up straight?  4 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.  Those in the medical industry are encouraged to chime in with their thoughts.

I have a friend who I like to call Krazy Mountain Killah.  I came up with that nick-name after she climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro.  That's right.  THAT Mt. Kilimanjaro.  She used to be a flight attendant.  She has taken mission trips to Mamelodi, South Africa and Nicaragua.  How fun is that word?  Especially if you take your time to roll the r and the g around.  I consider myself worldly but she might be otherworldly.   Anywho.  She is tall and blond and beautiful and has awesome teeth and is in great shape.  It would be so easy to, you know, hate her.  But she is an amazing amazing person.  So, you don't get to hate her - me neither.  I noticed that she facebooked about a Mt. Everest trip in the next 2-3 years.  Mt. Everest.  I mean, why not??  It's what all the kids are doing these days.  Crazy kids.  She's pretty in love with God and I'm thinking she's just looking for the uppermost portion of the world so she can high-five him or something.  Might as well take some Sherpas and a yak or two if you are going to roll that way.  I totally wouldn't put it past her.

It's bed-time.  Not for me.  For the kids.  And since I'm flying solo, I get the great joy of taking a break just now and fighting and screaming and drill sargenting the kids into their beds.  Be right to the back.

Hooo boy.  That was SO much fun.  There are those that say it is difficult to detect tone in email and general cyberspace situations.  Should that be your problem right now, not really trusting that you are picking up what I'm putting down, I am being 1,000 percent sarcastic.  But we aren't going to get into all that just right now.  We will simply move on.

I, wait for it... went shopping today.  We needed groceries.  And batteries.  And the new policy at Kroger is - we must have a mega-event every week.    Some of them have been better than others.  This one is decent enough.  I got cookie mix for .29.  Which I will NOT be adding any salt too.  And they paid me to take some tuna fish home.  While I was there, I picked out some lunch.  Healthy Choice and I have been friends off and on for many many years.  And we are BFFs whenever I can get it for 89 cents.  I tried the new Rosemary chicken and sweet potatoes.  It was pretty good.  I give it 6 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.  It was 170 calories!  I was starving and didn't have enough time to savor the flavors, to discern the nuances.   I did follow that up with another new thing.  I love Greek yogurt.  You give me some Greek Gods honey flavored Greek yogurt and you are in like Flynn.  I don't know a Flynn and if I did meet one, I have rigorous tests and trials for he or she to go through to be in.  But  that is all beside the point.  If you gave me raspberries to mix in with said Greek Gods yogurt... Oh My Goodness.  That's just all goodness all the time.  10 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.  The only reason I would have to mark it down is the price.  Which really, it's silly.  Per ounce it's as good if not better than the other brands.  Sometimes it's just hard to shell it all out at one time.  I often try other brands just to try to supplement and to see if there is a viable, more affordable substitute.  So far, no luck.  So today, I happened upon Atheno's Greek yogurt.  I had never seen it before.  It's made by fine people who make a fine hummus.  It was 10/$10.  Also, it had a divided container.  The yogurt was on one side and the honey was all liquidy and at the ready on the other side.  I was intrigued.  And as it had only 160 calories to add to my lunch numbers, it fit in nicely.  Until I tried it.  I realize that it's plain yogurt that you mix the bee spit into.  But I have had other plain Greek yogurts before.  I will say that somehow, once again, Greek Gods does it right.  For all the other national brands, there is this weird chalky aftertaste.  Imagine if Mylanta had no flavor at all - no cherry, no mint.  That's what I imagine this tastes like.  There wasn't enough honey to make up for it.  Not at all.  It's a no for me.  0 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.  Is that a first for me?  Cool!  And you were there for it!  I did supplement those responsible calories with some Tiger Butter.  Take some white chocolate - bar or chip form - whatever, about 11ish oz and put in about 3/4 peanut butter. Nuke that for 2-2 1/2 minutes until it's nice and liquid in form.  Pour that into a waiting pan lined with wax paper.  Spread it around.  Next take 2 cups chocolate chips and nuke those to the same fine liquid form.  Pour that on top of the peanut butter stuff and swirl real pretty with a knife.  Which totally matters when you are mindlessly breaking off one chunk after another because it's serious dang good.  So good that I bumped that 360 calorie lunch up by prolly another 800.  And kind of didn't care.  9 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.

I'm going to leave you with one final new thing.  Which is actually two new things in one.  I came across a little treat that I bought at a fair trade fair.  It's fair trade chocolate.  Specifically Divine 70 percent Dark Chocolate Covered Salted Fudge.  Salted fudge?  Yeah baby!  So with Hubs out of town, (ease up potential stalkers, by the time that you are reading this, he's on the way back home) I tore into them.  Y'all.  I'm so disappointed.  I'm trying so hard to stay the course and buy slave-free, fair trade chocolate but it simply has to be worth the price.  It has to be delicious.  I can't believe that I'm saying this but I'm throwing it out.  I tried so hard to like.  I tried so hard to stay the course and finish it.  I couldn't.  It's going to have to have a 2 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.  This is sincerely a problem because my addiction to chocolate is true and my deepest hopes to end slavery are also true.  I don't mean to make light.  I really don't.  I gotta figure that out.

In the mean time, I will attend to the final episode of the evening of my present all-consuming addiction. Come on.  Do I have to even say it?  How many times has Veronica Mars made my blog at this point?  Whatever.  It makes me happy.  It lifts my spirits at the end of a long day.  You know, when Hubs ain't around.

Unexpected blessings...

I totally made a mistake.  I made a cookie bar.  I took my favorite cookie mix and added white chocolate chips and salt.  Remember when I was talking about the fudge?  Well, I had the same idea.  My friend Sarah makes an impossible cookie bar.  And it's got salt in it.  It's perfect.  She sort of got me hooked to the point where I went through my stash and had the nerve to call her and ask for a fix.  Seriously.  I don't know how much it would take for me to look all sweaty and have the shakes hovering furtively around her door.  So, I was trying to do my thing.  I made a big deal out of it to the kids.  I fed them a new dinner.  I'm a big fan of rice (think Ready Rice or Rice-a-Roni) mixed with a meat product (chopped up cooked chicken, ground round, Italian turkey sausage).  I'm probably playing that card a little too often lately.  Tonight it was the Italian turkey sausage crumbled and browned with Parmesan and Romano cheese Rice-a-Roni.  It was fine.  5 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.  It was sustenance.  And sometimes, that's all I hope for.  But I made the cookie bar - using two boxes of mix and my biggest pan and it showed very big promise.  It was successful in getting 3 out of 4 to eat their dinner.  That's right.  I bribe 'em.  We all gotta do what we gotta do.  This is what I do from time to time.  It came out and I proudly served it up.  Then I got mine and took a bite.  Salt.  Lots of salt.  Too much to be a pairing for the sweet.  Bugger.  Princess didn't even finish it.  Scooby finished his but made sure to go on about it being too salty.  Hubs was lovely.  He lied.  So I made a powdered sugar glaze and drizzled that over the top.  Then I made another batch of powdered sugar glaze and poured that over the top.  I just took a sampling.  Unless some sort of miracle of osmosis occurs, I will be throwing these out.  And making regular cookies with no additional ingredients involved tomorrow.  Scooby and I have dubbed this batch Bikini Bottom Cookie Bar.  Not good y'all.  Not good at all.  3 out of 10 Jenny's jewels only because every now and then there was the ability to discern a chocolate chunk product.

Okay.  Let's talk Black Friday.  I didn't anticipate going out for anything.  But the pull was just too strong.  So strong, in fact, that I started the night before.  That's right.  I went out shopping on Thanksgiving night.  Sure, okay.  Some of you are thinking that's like sacrilegious or something.  I understand.  But I would prefer to consider myself patriotic instead.  I am doing my part to help our economy.  Let us not dwell on how many products have a made in a foreign country sticker or stamp on them.  I did the very best I could to avoid slave-made products.  Next year, I will do even better.  I am happy to report that other like-minded patriots were out en force to boost some NASDAQ numbers.  Actually, no, I have no idea what I'm talking about.  I was there at 11:00 pm at WalMart.  I know.  WalMart sucks.  But they had Leapsters for $25.  And since I was buying 3 of them, that's a significant savings.  Those were part of the midnight sale.  There was another sale that started at 5am.  I kid you not.  There were people who brought or borrowed lawn chairs and camped out next to the pallets for some of the items that went on sale - in 6 hours.  Laptops.  I thought I was hardcore.  Nope.  Not even close.  From there, I went to ToysRUs.  Not anywhere near the insanity that was WalMart. But that is only because the crowd had moved on.  Next up, Target.  Oh.  My.  Word.  I have truly not seen anything like it.  I have been out on Black Friday before, believe it.  But this was a whole new animal.  I didn't take a coat out with me.  I don't know what to tell you.  I didn't plan on being outside much.  I planned on parking and walking in and getting all hot in the stores and then walking to my car.  No need for a coat to slow my roll.  I pulled up just about 4 am.  The doors opened at 4.  This is a big Target.  Not a Super Target but still.  There are 2-3 stores next to it.  Small ones.  Then there is a Staples store.  Then there are a few more stores and then there is a Panda Wok or whatever at the end of the strip.  I hope this gives a fairly good idea of the distance I'm talking about here.  So, I pull into a spot.  I am looking to just kind of wander in but I can't.  Because the line extends to the Asian food establishment at the end.  There were people who stopped at a point to flow in when told to do so.  You know what I did?  I said, "screw this noise!  I am freezing!!  I need to keep moving!!".  That's what I said.  So I walked all the way to the end and started walking in the direction I had just come from so that I could go in.  I was still cold.  But at least I was moving.  And the pisser is that those people that were waiting at the point where I made the oh so smart decision to go to the end?  Yeah.  Those people were nowhere to be found.  They got in.  I was in line long enough to see people come out - with big ol' TVs.  One guy couldn't even put it into his car because his doors had frozen shut.  And when I got in there, there was this swarm around a bin that you would have thought had free gold in it from the activity surrounding it.  It was $2 gloves.  Those people were looking to warm up and I mean right now.  Which I get because I am now the proud owner of a super cute reversible pink/orange puffer vest for $7.50.  I picked up all the bargains I could find.  I got 2 $85 dual screen DVD players for the car for our road trips.  I got a hard drive for Hubs.  I got pjs and jeans for the green giant that is Scooby.  Now, I will try to explain the line to check out.  It was a very very large square that ran through the store and started doubling up on itself.  My strategy at this point was to find a cart for all the things that were straining and breaking my arms and fingers.  Also, to look like a thief as I made my way past the checkout area to the Starbucks to get coffee and a croissant for sustenance so that I may continue my quest towards giving them my money.  Also to look and look and look for more items because the longer that I wandered around, the shorter the line would get.  Which of course became problematic.  Because I walked out after $450.  Yeah.  I know.  It's okay.  I returned alot.  Including the dual screen dvd players. Both of them.  It was nuts.  And I loved it.  It was totally up my alley.  Hubs can't shop.  It's just not in him, at all.  He physically depletes as he goes.  I have seen it happen and it is so fascinating.  I don't mean that to sound as though I delight in his discomfort.  It's just so contrary to what I feel like when I go shopping.  I get more energized as I go.  So, the 6 hours I spent from Thanksgiving into Black Friday gets 7 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.  If I had had a coat, a bottle of water and a few snack bars, I would have ruled the school.  Not in a camped out in lawn chairs looking like hobos around some pallets kind of way but still...

I saw "The Expendables" the other night.  I had high hopes.  I am a fan of testosterony movies.  I came up with a phrase for those kind of movies that probably someone else came up with already.   Plus, it's kind of naughty.  I won't tell you what it is but I will allude to it and you will get the idea.  You know how they call Rom-Coms (that's romantic comedies to you lay folk...) chick flicks?  Well, I would refer to Jason Statham, Sylvester Stallone, Mickey Rourke, etc movies as Richard flicks.  Only I would use a nickname for Richard.  And it would rhyme with flick.  And it wouldn't be Rick. I told you it was naughty!!  But truly, these are movies that are all amped up and bad ass and macho and heroic and what not.  And I dig those movies.  It had some good casting.  But Stallone was a co-writer.  Which I would have thought would have been good as he has been in so many of these that he would know what to write but then I realized that he would also be responsible for dialogue and he's never been much of a talker in his movies.  Put him and Keanu together and you really might as well do it as a silent film for all their speaking contributes to what they are doing.  And Sly looked awful.  I don't know what was happening with his hair but it was weird and the botox has not been kind.  I like Jason Statham.  I think that he is charismatic and truly lends himself to the movies he does but  it was painful to watch him trying to carry this film as Sly's best friend.  And Dolph Lundgren?  Ouch.  If they could have at least attempted to make fun of what they have done in their roles, that would have been crazy awesome.  But they weren't.  They were serious.  They were really trying.  The only one who actually looked comfortable was, God love him, Eric Roberts.  Because he has done the same role in the same kind of movie for pretty much his whole career.  It was so bad that I actually fell asleep during the climactic near ending.  2 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.

So, here is what is happening on our quest for a different Christmas this year.  It got sketchy right away.  As a reminder, our goal is to take all the gift money from all the gift giving parties and pool it together giving each child 3 presents each.  So.  It started with the Leapster.  If you buy one, it doesn't have much to offer on it's own.  You need the games/cartridges.  So, I got three.  Each.  I've already gone over the 3 gifts each situation!!  What the hello kitty is it that I am supposed to do now??  So, after some breathing and some coffee, we decided that the Leapster with the games is a gift - gift number 1.  So, for Princess, her next gift was to be a craft like product.  But it felt so LAME to just hand her a Color Wonder packet or something.  It totally wouldn't be a Color Wonder packet.  There is nothing wrong with those but she's way more crafty than that.  We agreed that bundling 2 or 3 crafts together would constitute gift number 2.  And that's what we pretty much did for the remaining presents.  I know.  It totally looks like I fudged it all.  But here is exactly why I feel so at peace with how this turned out.  It made us really consider what it is we are buying.  As I said, my nature is to squeeze as much present as I can out of every dime and we end up with tons of crappy stuff that isn't even noticed or played with.  Hubs and I really thought through each gift.  Here is a for instance.  Big Stuff is getting an Imaginext Bat Cave.  I know.  Totally awesome!!  But at the same price, they also had this Imaginext Aircraft Carrier.  It was killer.  I bought it.  I also bought the Imaginext Space Shuttle because the shopping strategy for Black Friday this year was buy it all right now and return most of it later.  Whatever.  It worked.  The Bat Cave was a no-brainer.  That's a keeper.  And we were going to keep the Aircraft Carrier as well.  But then I came across this Buzz Lightyear backpack.  It looks like Buzz's space ship.  And I thought about all the pretending that Big Stuff likes to do and I decided that I would get him binoculars and a cool flashlight and turn it into an adventure pack because he likes to say "I'm goin' on a adventure!" and then he does.  It was going to cost a little more than the aircraft carrier but it is going to be so much fun for him.  That aircraft carrier was really cool.  And it was a good price.  I have a little bit of returner's remorse.  It's stuff like that - we just really thought about the gifts this go round.  The next reason I am at peace is because I fully believe that we have spent far less money on Christmas than we normally do and that is a direction we want to continue going in.  Our children have been mentioning how kind of bummed out they are about only getting three gifts.  I could focus on the fact that they are being materialistic greedy little so and sos.  Instead, I look forward to the morning when they are surprised by the quality of those three gifts and how satisfied they can be with less.  And the final reason - Yes.  Three gifts was good enough for Jesus and therefore, three gifts is more than enough for our kids.  But God's love is abundant and surprising.  He is not stingy.  He looks to bless us at every turn.  And that is a facet of God that I truly want to share with my kids as we celebrate the greatest gift He ever gave us.  Which, by the way, is what Christmas is actually about.  Ahem.  Anywho....  Staying the course and seeing our Christmas plans through gets 10 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.

This is what I have to tell you.  I shared how much our church raised for the 4 initiatives that we are trying to accomplish.  That number has actually gone up.  By about another mil.   Hubs and I have actually already seen some amazing, unexpected financial blessing as a result of our walking out in faith and committing God's money right back to Him.  It wasn't huge but the reality is that if you don't see it coming, anything can be generous.  And this is generous.  It means that the commitment we made to start making good on our pledge by the end of the year is a little less nebulous.  Some of it fell straight into our hands.  It's every indication to me that He truly does just want to know and give you the desires of your heart.  So if the desire of your heart is to please Him, He totally just pleases you right back and gives you the means to the end.  There's this diamond cut called the Gabrielle cut.  It is 105 facets.  Based on my extensive research (inclusive of a google search and perusal of about 2-4 sites to verify...), this is the most faceted cut for a diamond.  Imagine that God has ever shifting infinite Gabrielle sections. And every time that He allows me to gaze upon one of those facets and glean a better understanding of who He is and what He is about - it's a sweetness like no other - with no salt to be found.

Blimey, it's been a while...

Well Alright!  I'm back from all kinds of eating and, well, eating.  I devoured that round of fudge and made another and that's almost gone.  It's okay.  I rescheduled the family picture until January so I will have some additional time to eat the fudge and beat the pudge.  I just made that up.  It should be a slogan.  And do you know why?  Get this.  I took the already perfect Fantasy Fudge recipe (found on the back of any Kraft marshmallow fluff stuff) and at the very end, just before I poured it into my buttered pan (that's another big fat taste enhancer), I folded in an undetermined bit of coarse kosher salt.  It's undetermined because I put some in the palm of my hand, poured that in and folded.  And I didn't feel satisfied by that so I did it again.  Probably Rachel Ray would estimate that as 2 Tablespoons.  Don't get scared.  Salted Caramel is all the rage.  This is salted fudge.  And what I mean to tell you is that it's ridiculous.  You get this spark of salt while you are almost about to overdose on the sweet.  It's total OMG material.  Probably that's the wrong direction to go in when hoping to look good for  family pictures and just to look and feel better in general.  Don't blame me.  Blame that first lady who baked goods for the purposes of celebrating winter and Christmas and all the magic that comes with freezing your butt off while shopping til you drop.  Blame her.  I am merely one of the lemmings following her legacy around.  And this lemming accomplished something unthinkable.  Are you ready for it?  11 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.  Oh.  I mean it.

So, how was Thanksgiving?  I had a total miss when I was relaying just how blah I am in general about the great Turkey holiday.  You know what I forgot?  It's not just about some people landing on and infringing upon the land of the Native American/Indigenous folks.  It's about why they came here.  They came here so that I can have a blog and talk about how awesome I think God is.  And so that you can disagree with me (even if I'm right and you are wrong).  They came here so that I can go to church - to the church of my choosing.  So that you can choose not to go to church at all.  There are people on this planet who die because they know that Jesus rocks the house.  They die for having a bible.  Others die because of strict rules within their own religion and demanding that the followers act as tattle tales - ratting out people who do not follow the letter of their law and those people die - for hugging a woman who is not their wife or for denouncing their religion or ... other stuff.  I am humbled by this.  On Thanksgiving, I truly was so thankful that I was just born in the right country and so thankful for the people who left England and said they wanted to avoid religious persecution and rule.  But I am confused about where the English accent went.  I love English accents.  It's so hard to sound dumb with a British accent.  It's the one thing I do wish we had retained.  And double decker buses.  Those are cool.  And words like lift, chunnel, tube, bloody, and... others.  Our dinner was lovely.  Except the part where the kids hated most of it.  And all that stuffing I told you I got?  Yeah.  We didn't have any stuffing at all.  But I did make my own cranberry sauce  and it was the bomb - 8 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.  Just a touch more sugar and orange flavor next time.  And also I made a sweet potato casserole type situation.  I didn't like it much.  It needed more sugar and less egg.  It was like it was confused about being a souffle or a casserole.  But the crunchy bit on top was good.  Hubs liked it.  He's a good sport.  As for me, I'm gonna give it 5 out of 10 Jenny's jewels - the crunchiness on top earns it about 1.5-2 jewels on it own.  It was aight.  And there were no guests.  It kept slipping my mind to contact anyone and I think that the brain just does that sometimes - it wipes out information to protect us or take care of us when we are too stubborn to do it ourselves.  And also, my brain seemed to be privy to the fact that my kids were going to act like total lunatics that day so it's best not to have anyone around to see all our ugly bits.  You know - the kids going bonkers and being all belligerent and our stellar reactions to those situations.  Good public viewing material,that.  See.  I can talk like a Brit.

I'm on my last two episodes of the first season of Veronica Mars.  Which is delicious because I still have 3 seasons left to go.  Oh.  It has not let me down, not even once.  It's the writing I tell ya.  It's the same reason why I adored Cupid back in the late '90s (the one that starred Jeremy Piven).  It's why I loved Gilmore Girls.  It's why I loved The Shield and The Wire and why I love Dexter and Entourage and Glee and House.  You give me smart writing and I'm loyal for life.  You start getting lazy and cutting corners - getting predictable and hackneyed - you are out.   

Okay.  Today is a new day.  I started all of the above last night and didn't get finished.  So, here is what happened today. 

I got a burr up my butt and decided to do some exercising.  I'm a big fan of Crunch CardioNetflix and me and Marie got to it.  Our living room is about the size of a postage stamp.  And over the weekend we put up the Christmas tree and lost a lot of surface area.  It's not easy doing a work-out "video" that requires room to move in our living room under the best of circumstances.  While the tree was a challenge, I was making it work.  The mitigating factor was, wait for it... children.  They were all up in my business and despite my insisting that they move, they very much thought that meant move to another portion of my microscopic exercise arena.  So, I lost it, as I'm so prone to do, and told them to go to another room.  I think my exact words were "GET OUT!!!  Get out get out get out!".  Princess was running out in her stocking feet and slipped and hurt her knees and cried and I was all up in the high heart beat zone and had to stop and check boo-boos.  It was all over then.  I could have given up.  I'm kind of known for it, actually.  But I didn't.  I turned off the work-out and went downstairs to the elliptical.  I watched an episode of Veronica Mars while I ellipticaled (ellipticated?).  And that was wicked effective.  I have roughly 60 episodes left until the end of the series.  I'm sure to blast my butt in no time.  Or at least 60-120 days depending on the frequency with which I am able to force myself down there.  And hopefully my guts will take a hit as well because Justin Timberlake brought sexy back but no one seems compelled to bring front butt back.  And I have a choice - bring it back myself or take myself out of the position to be able to.  I'll let you know how that goes.  It's a new gig for me.  Accomplishment - work out = reward - Veronica Mars time.  I'm stoked.  For now.  Today gets a 10 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.  I know.  I can't rightly believe it myself. 

I ate somewhat sensibly and since I finished off round two of the fudge last night, there was none to delve into today.  I put out the all-call on Facebook for hints on what I could eat after a meal that would satisfy my sweet/chocolate tooth.  I mentioned that it needed to be something that didn't compel me to eat it in it's entirety.  Here are some of the suggestions:  chocolate chips that I stow in the freezer and pop a couple in my mouth after a meal.  Chocolate cake, potentially made with some pumpkin.  I pride myself on being a pretty awesome and straight forward communicator.  I'm pretty sure I was clear as a bell.  I mentioned my weakness for finishing off items as they come.  I thought these were my friends.  Chocolate chips in my freezer?  A few in my mouth at a time after a meal?  As if I won't make that one bag of chips my entire meal in itself?  Or bake it into something that I force myself to eat a modicum of food that could be considered dinner so that I can get to dessert - and eat in it's entirety.  And chocolate cake?  Should I just strap it onto my thighs after I make it?  Perhaps as it crumbles it will just go ahead and resemble the cellulite that it would have become anyway.  I need something like chocolate paper.  They make rice paper.  I could have (organic, slave-free) chocolate paper that I could sit on my tongue and it would satisfy my craving but the texture and the experience would keep me from trying to devour more than one page at a time.  I have the best ideas.  You can take that one with you and see what you come up with but if it's successful, a) try to do an assortment of chocolate flavors - chocolate mint, chocolate cinnamon, etc.  and b) help a girl out and slip me a percentage.

I'm going to have to give up my computer time momentarily.  Wouldn't it be dreamy if a computer company or Apple wanted me to try a new computer?  Or an Ipad?  Glory be to me that would be fun.  And handy as I go through computers with a very certain and frightening frequency.  If some scientist wants to check into that and see if it's supposed to be a disorder or something, just send me a computer - please?  It's a true thing though.  Some people break watches - my dad has some sort of magnetic force field super power that would break all his watches.  Apparently that gene mutated with me and it's computers. 

We'll talk Christmas tomorrow night.  I will tell you all about Black Friday and how we are coming along with our quest to do three gifts for each kiddo. 

Thanks for taking the time.  Cheers, mate!