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I didn’t watch the Palin speech last night even though I was intrigued because, well, let’s face it, I had somewhere more important to be at. Yup, I was at church because no matter what ends up happening in November, only Jesus saved my soul.

And instead of watching the recap of it from my nightly local news station of choice [go KTVU…even without Dennis Richmond who I still miss nightly] I waited to get the scoop from the Daily Show. Isn’t that indicative of where the mysterious “they” say people my age are getting their news from?

They didn’t show her speech but I did get a nice dosage of wit and satire that comes with each episode. This is what people like about the Daily Show, no matter who the person is, whether Democrat or Republican, they skewer them through and through. And I especially love how they go back and find clips of them saying things that contradict what they’re saying now. Way to use their own words against them folks!

Can you really argue with videotape? Me thinks not. It’s kind of hard to point to said video and say, dude, that’s not me. I didn’t say that. You took what I said out of context.

Anywho, I have my own set of opinions on this ticket that are still forming as I slowly learn who they are and what they stand for [likewise, I still need to finish my research for the Obama/Biden ticket as well so I can counteract whatever drivel our dad has been filling our mom’s head with in terms of their platform…all of which came from his countless hours of watching Fox News] but I do know this: I don’t like anyone who will happily and systematically eliminate my right to choose what I do to my body.

While I am Pro-Choice, when it comes to me personally, abortion is not an option but I made that choice for myself and it is something I believe should be left as a choice for everyone. And that also means my choice in family planning [and since abortion is not an option for me, preventing a pregnancy from even happening is paramount]. People love going off on folks who chose to have kids, you know, with the whole overpopulation of the earth and how selfish you are for only thinking of yourselves in wanting kids with the way the world is right now [honest to goodness those are the arguments]. Don’t tell me using birth control pills is the same as getting an abortion because that is a lie. It’s pretty impossible to abort something that was never created in the first place, don’t you think?

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Okay, I will admit it: last night I watched the new incarnation of 90210.

And I didn’t like it.

I have loads of complaints, aside from the fact that I did watch it. But I blame that on Marilu for reminding me that it was on. And it’s not like I can really say anything because my taste for television shows are highly suspect but I did spend a good chunk of my years watching the original Beverly Hills, 90210. But it was at least watchable.

This? This was not.

It was great seeing Kelly and [finally] Brenda and Nat back on the screen but it would have been awesome to see the Peach Pit as the diner it used to be and not the slick fancy place it is now [whatever it is]. I actually cheered when I [finally] saw Brenda partly because I was so sick of the show that I was ready to abort the mission and go watch Family Guy again.

Here’s my host of issues with the show [but I must add that it was also great to see Aunt Becky again]:

1) It’s just like all the other shows

Flip through the channels and see what’s on, show after show of rich privileged kids. Where did this fascination come from? From My Super Sweet Sixteen, to Keeping up with the Kardashians to Gossip Girl to One Tree Hill to The Hills et al, all you see are these rich kids running amok just because they’re bored and have access to things. Doesn’t matter what thing; they can get it quickly and easily and without batting an eye. Someone get these kids a job.

They flaunt their money a lot harder than Steve Sanders ever could have and he drove a Ferrari to school. Wait, was it a Ferrari or was it another fancy car? I don’t remember. But these kids have parties right out of My Super Sweet Sixteen, drive Bentley’s to school [and can I say how passé that is? Really? A Bentley? And I’m supposed to be impressed? Puh-lease. Couldn’t you have gotten a fancier car? Whoa, look how completely jaded I’ve become with overexposure of Bentleys in rap videos] and have access to private jets. Jets? Steve Sanders never had a jet!

Not to say that the original wasn’t complete fluff but at least, for the most part, the kids were a bit more grounded in reality. It was definitely different than what was on the other stations in terms of content though. And they did tackle some real issues like date rape, breast cancer [remember…Brenda found that lump!], teen pregnancy, alcoholism and so forth. And weren’t all excited that Donna Martin graduated? I’m sure [if this series lasts that long…and I hope it doesn’t] that we wouldn’t be excited if any of the new kids graduates. I’ll be surprised if we’re still talking about this show in a few years period.

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If it were ever put up for a vote, I’d completely support any type of movement towards a four-day workweek. Its not like I’d come back to loads of work come Monday morning [provided we get Fridays off – and we should…who really gets work done on a Friday?] and knowing that I’d have four days to get my work done, I’d of course spend my time wisely to make sure everything’s done that week before I leave. Much like I do right before I leave for vacation. See, smart.

Since we got out of work early on Friday, I went over to the Ferry Building because I was in the mood for macarons. I figured if I was thinking of making some, I should probably try them out first. Smart move huh? So off I went to Miette Patisserie to pick up a few [chocolate, hazelnut, rose, raspberry and vanilla] and then made a stop at the Scharffen Berger stall to pick up a bar of Mocha chocolate for Marilu because I’m bribing her with food so she’ll always be my friend. It’s easy because she’s pregnant so she always wants to eat. I’ve found you can always win over a pregnant woman with food. We’ve come full circle from our early friendship in high school when she used to feed me.

Then I spent the rest of the afternoon at the Acac’s house just hanging out and eating as I tend to do when I’m there. Of course there was that one-hour trip to Target we took [we also stopped at the Linens and Things non-store closing sale – I mean, if you’re closing and are desperate to move merchandise, then price them at least 50% off. Most of the discounts were for 10%, which is pretty much tax].

Saturday found me hanging out with my beloved Aunt Wanda who took me out for the day for my birthday. Our first stop was to get a manicure and pedicure, which would be my very first ones. For someone who seems to have been born in socks, it was weird having my feet all prettied up [even with the light nail polish I chose, it still looks weird on my toes!]. After that, we made our way to P.F. Changs for a feast of huge proportions. Well huge for two people. Between us, we ordered six different meals [two appetizers and four items] and made a decent dent in them. We were pretty stuffed after lunch and could have easily called it a day and gone home but we soldiered on to Oakland for the Art and Soul festival which was actually pretty cool. It was the first time I’d gone and I enjoyed myself. Even with being too full to function.

I taught Sunday school and the kids were in rare form. I don’t know what happened or what was mixed in with their eggs at breakfast but they were more than their usual handful. Two of the kids couldn’t stop dancing around and one of those dancers kept singing. I made a joke and EVERYONE cracked up but it wasn’t even all that funny, and they kept laughing for minutes afterwards. I was exhausted once I finally just gave up and let them go. All me and my assistant teacher could do was just look at each other and shake our heads.

I did get to business of making my ice cream sandwiches. I plan on writing a bit more tomorrow so I’ll leave you with this:

Tasty huh?

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We are officially on the clock. Yay for early closures. I’m excited for the weekend that doesn’t involve too much outside hanging out with my aunt and making ice cream sandwiches. Oh yes I am. I’m really excited about that.

Maybe even a bit more than hanging out with my aunt. But I’m sure she’d understand.

Yesterday was actually a pretty decent day. My boss was out sick so I had to sit at her desk, which bummed me out a bit but I got over it. But after work go interesting. I got out a bit early and when I walked to the bus stop, the line for the train I take back to the station was long. I don’t know what exactly was going on [besides the huge traffic backup on the bridge from earlier that afternoon due to a fire on Treasure Island] but there weren’t any trains coming. There was one scheduled in 20 minutes and another in 6 minutes but I didn’t even see anything going on at the station down the road and with all the frustrated people on the platform, I figured they had already been there for a really long time. So instead of waiting, I decided to walk.

It was a nice day so it wasn’t like I was going to hurt any for the walk. But the miraculous thing was, in the 20 minutes it took me to get from my stop to where the trains begin to go underground, I did not see a SINGLE train going downtown. I saw a few coming from downtown that were bunched together, meaning there was some kind of delay going on somewhere along in the tunnel but nothing getting me to the BART station. I was so glad I walked!

Plus, when I did get to the BART station, guess what I saw? Jamba Juice employees handing out free full-sized bottles of their new smoothie drinks. I actually THANKED Muni for being broken. Otherwise I would have completely missed the giveaway.

Oh and I didn’t get to mention this in my other post but I have one complaint about Paris Las Vegas: they didn’t sell any macarons. I was looking for them on Sunday before we left but was so disappointed. For a hotel that is based on Paris, France, with its replicas of the Eiffel Tower and Arc de Triomphe and an idyllic Parisian village and its crepes, they didn’t have a single macaron. I went into a couple patisseries and didn’t see any. They had a picture of some in one of them but none in the cases! There’s just no way you can painstakingly shrink both the tower and the arc to half it’s size and recreate a street and not be able to hire a Parisian baker to make macarons. I’ve seen Vegas…they go to no limit to create the best. Bad form Paris Las Vegas. Bad form.

You should work on that.

I think I need a sign that says, “Not Engaged.”

Actually maybe I should get one that reads, “Promise Ring, Not Engagement.”

Maybe I should make a tag to attach to my ring. Hmm. I usually get asked a few times a week about my ring, mostly from coworkers and friends I see occasionally. I have one coworker who asks me about every other week if we have set a date and every time the answer is no. Granted, they could just be interested or they could just not have anything else to say but feel the need to say something.

It’s even funnier when I return from a trip. Their eyes go straight for the hand to check!

There’s something about wearing a ring on your left ring finger that makes people go into a tizzy. Case in point, in college I bought myself one of those cheapo rings from the Icing [or Claire’s…they’re practically interchangeable] and it was a rhinestone one shaped like three small flowers and one of the advisors at work stopped me and asked if I was engaged. No…I just wanted a ring so I bought one. I will admit that I do tell certain people that it is an engagement ring. Makes the conversation end that much faster.

But yes, the ring I currently wear is a promise ring given to me from the bf for our one-year anniversary and I treasure it like it’s an engagement ring. This small piece of jewelry holds a lot of meaning for both of us. We picked it out together [even though he banished me from that part of the store while he paid for it] and the words he said when he formally presented the ring…le sigh. I love him so much.

While it may be argued in some circles that promise rings and such are pointless, I love mine and what it symbolizes: this is a sign of our commitment to one another and to our future. I like it when we’re just lounging around, he’ll take my hand and admire the ring. And even though the ring no longer fits as snuggly as it used to, I still wear it knowing that one day, we’ll be switching it for a real engagement ring.

One day, but just not yet. Don’t worry, you know I’ll be here to tell you all about it when it does go down. But let’s just focus on getting us in the same geographical area first…but it’s nice to think about.

Of course I would have just about the tamest Vegas experience for someone who wasn’t 65 years old. I came to Vegas, oh, about 6 years too late to do any real damage in the nighttime social scene. I’m way past the whole wanting to go out and drink and dance the night away while enjoying the goods of the male variety. Now if I go out, I don’t want to have to get all fancy…a nice shirt over jeans is my limit. And take me to a lounge so we can kick back and relax and talk. I don’t want to have to yell over the music to be heard.

Anywho, that’s not the point. The point is I went to Vegas [finally]. So this will be a long, photo intensive post. Get comfortable.

The flight was a quick hour and some odd minutes [yay for nonstop] and we were greeted with the hot Las Vegas heat the second we walked off the plane into the walkway leading back to the terminal. For the small part of the airport that we saw, I really liked it; maybe it was because of my stomach and the delicious scents of Cinnabon that did me in but honestly I think it’s because of the random rock sculptures they have there. On our way to baggage claim, we saw a rabbit, a snake, and a lizard. Naturally I had to sit on it.

We met Akilah, who was visiting her boyfriend, Michael that week so everything worked out perfectly. They took us to grab something to eat at the South Point Hotel and Casino buffet and there were plenty of choices. I don’t normally do very well with buffets but since I was starved out of my gourd, I made good use of the meal and it’s unending options.

We stayed in Ballys, which was right smack dab in the center of the action. It was great; it was connected to Paris Las Vegas and was across the street from the Bellagio and Caesar’s Palace. Primo location right? We pretty much just settled in to change purses and whatnot before venturing back downstairs to explore the wonder that is the Las Vegas Strip.

There was a lot of people everywhere which made it a little hard to walk and especially hard to navigate the congested streets. Plus, the strip is long as all heck. Seriously, it just kept going and going. Nevertheless, we soldiered on, passing Paris [and seeing our first married couple of the night], down the street to this little Hawaiian Village thing. I saw a guy dressed up as a cow for Hooters that we all felt sorry for. While it wasn’t oppressively hot, it was much too hot to be in a mascot costume. We explored New York New York just a little [though not as much as we did with the Venetian and Paris] and then made our way back up to the Bellagio just in time for the fountain show.

After the show, we trucked it into the Bellagio for gelato [yum, gelato] and wandered a bit before finally meeting up with my Detroit family who were also in for the week. I hadn’t seen them since Christmas so it was nice being able to meet up with them [and we ran into them again later on the Strip].

Dulce de leche and Raspberry sorbet - in one word: delicious.

Can you believe this was the FIRST time Akilah had gelato? I didn’t even know that was possible

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I have decided that walking is overrated. Why can’t the entire world be covered with a moving walkway? Or at least the part that I need to walk on? Or why can’t I just float? Yeah, floating would be a lot better because I wouldn’t even have to stand at all.

So the weekend activities. Well, I haven’t had a chance to upload my pictures to my Flickr [only to my laptop] but I can give you this as a hint as to where I was:

I’ll be back once I upload and color correct my pictures [I took 175 over a day…mostly buildings and stuff] so I can go you my patented blow-by-blow photo tour of my 24 hours in Vegas.

Since I feel bad about copping out of actually telling you about the weekend [it’s just not as much fun without the pictures] and that since there was a camera nearby you know there are some random pictures of my being silly, I’ll give you this to tide you over until the real recap:

Plus, I’ll tell you the story of how piece of fitness equipment made me cry.

Hmm. I have no idea what I’m going write about. I mean, there are things I COULD write about but I don’t want to crack open those nuts as of now, if ever. There are just some things that are better left unwritten.

I know one thing, and it’s a lesson I repeatedly learn, is to never go shopping when you’re hungry. I had to make a stop at Target and went to pick up a frozen dinner for my lunch today and wouldn’t you know I almost tried to buy out the entire food section? I had my hand on quite a few boxes, especially on a box of those Nature’s Valley granola bars the bf ALWAYS brings. I’ve been loving the peanut butter ones and he always makes sure to leave me with a few…even after I dig through his suitcase to grab one to snack on while I’m waiting for him to get ready. I currently only have one left at home so finding a box of my own has been on my mind.

Okay, so I’ve been perusing TasteSpotting and oh my goodness…the food porn! This website is such a wonderfully delectable time suck. It’s awesome. And so very dangerous because I have already added something to my ever expanding list of things I want to try and make. Because I apparently have that much time on my hands.

I don’t know where I get the idea that I have all this extra time to make everything I see. Not only that, but some of these recipes require a trip to the grocery to buy additional ingredients and well, I’m being quite stingy with my funds as of late.

And there are only so many weekends in the year and I’m usually doing something or I’m being lazy and doing nothing, which is actually a something so technically I’m ALWAYS doing something. That was a bit of a stretch now, wasn’t it? But a beautiful stretch nonetheless.

I think I need to start writing down everything I want to make because I know I’m missing out on stuff. Here’s my list as I can remember, because I’m sure I’m missing stuff:

Macarons
Banana cream pie
Cheesecake pops
Cookie pops
Ice cream sandwiches
Cinnamon rolls on a stick [you read that right!]
Truffles

And that’s all I can remember at the moment.

Anyone interested in taste testing?

I decided that I will be making ice cream sandwiches next weekend. Considering that it’s also a 3-day weekend, I figure that would be a great time to take advantage of this somewhat ambitious project.

And the only reason why it’s ambitious is because it involves ice cream. Well, okay I’m making it ambitious by extending the time involved. Most of the recipes advise letting the ice cream soften a bit before spreading it onto the cookies but the last time I made ice cream sandwiches [with brownies] the ice cream never set the way I wanted so it squeezed out with every bite. This time I’m going to try freezing the ice cream overnight and then using the cookie cutters to cut the shapes out for the ice cream sandwiches. I’m hoping the extra time will help the ice cream firm up.

Now veering off for a moment, during my daily blog crawl, I was reading about one blogger’s proposal story. It was a sweet story about an elaborate all day scavenger hunt that included friends and family. Just reading through it though made ME a bit tired from all the walking about and stuff.

That made me think of the bf’s comparison of engagements to roller coasters, and I’m hoping I’m remembering it correctly – if not, I’m completely sorry for butchering your analogy darling, he said that getting engaged is like riding a roller coaster as it goes up that first drop…you’re excited about taking that next step but scared for what the future holds because there’s so much more to deal with once you get passed the initial step.

What makes it so much more hilarious came compliment of the camera on the ride. When we saw the picture they took as we came down the first drop, we both cracked up. He’s sitting there with his eyes closed tight and most likely pressing his feet against the front of the car to brace himself with that look of, “Oh my god…WE’RE FALLING!” and there I am with my arms up in the air, screaming. I think that’s indicative of an engagement [and us]: He’s worried about the impending future and I’m just completely living in the moment.

He also said the onus of creating the “perfect proposal” is squarely on the guys. It’s up to them to make it not suck [my words, not his]. I know the proposal story gets a lot of play when people announce their engagement [it’s one of the first two questions asked: “How did he ask?” and “Can I see your ring?”] and all but I don’t think it’s necessarily important to have a grand big ole production. But that’s just me.

I don’t have a dream proposal. I did dream of one once and it involved the Monterey Bay Aquarium and penguins [because I love them so!]. It was very sweet. But other than that, I never really thought about getting engaged. Probably, once again, because I kind of thought I wouldn’t make it that far in a relationship. Then again, I always skip things in my imaginings. Like, I could picture myself doing things but never for the first time. I could see myself married but the wedding? Obviously it happened since I’m married. Saw myself with kids but never saw myself pregnant. I always thought it was weird but I think it was because I never really had a real idea of who I’d end up with to make up the other half of the visions.

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So my great plan to try to get to bed a little earlier than 11 pm hit a bit of a snag. But I will try my best tonight.

I’m thinking I may need to seek medical advice on why my hands are almost always cold. Sometimes the beds of my fingernails have a pale blue tint to them. That can’t be good. It’s weird because it’s not like my feet are cold [not that they would ever get the chance since I live in socks]. My mom wants to pump me with ginseng and ginger tea or something like that. Which makes me remember the horrid box of ginseng juice thing she made me drink everyday. Ugh. But for some reason I’m convinced the tea will taste a million times better than that pouch juice.

I also remember the bf making fun of me having to drink that old country concoction. So I think I may have sent him a pouch just for fun. If he still has it, he hasn’t tasted it because I’m sure I would have gotten a call along the lines of, “what the heck kind of stuff is this woman?!” I honestly can’t picture him ever referring to me as “woman” but it just seemed to fit the context of this sentence. He needs to be careful though…I’ll have full access to my mom and her “tonics” and I’m petty enough to use them.

We were talking late last night/early this morning and he made fun of my apparent inability to stay up late, this coming from a guy who regularly stays up late working on one thing or another. It’s almost sad that he ends up with a person who likes to sleep. So much so that I look forward to sleeping from the moment I wake up.

I am, after all, the person who regularly says that if naps were a person, I’d so marry it.

But aside from that, it’s not so much and inability to stay awake more than an unwillingness to stay awake most times. Sometimes I am just plain tired but there does come the point when I’m whatever, I’m going to bed.

When I was in college I had no problem staying up to all times of night because there was almost always someone else who was also up. But what’s the point of sitting in my room alone at all hours of the night? I don’t know what to look at online, there are only so many things on the television and I’m lonely. So bed is a fantastic option, wouldn’t you say? I can already picture what will happen when we start living together: I’ll hang tough until I’m tired then go to bed. He’ll stay up and amuse himself with whatever it is he does [I wouldn’t know since I’m, you know, sleep] then he’ll finally come to bed. I’ll pop up eight hours later and he’ll still be sleeping. I may linger in bed for a little bit before getting up and eating and going about my day. Maybe I’ll wake him up so we can do something together. Maybe I’ll just let him sleep until he’s ready to get up by himself. Who knows?

Well I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t let me wake him up by jumping on him like I did when I tried to get him up so we could go to Santa Cruz for my birthday. I think I only got away with that because it was my birthday.

We live on two different clocks but thankfully they meet up somewhere in the middle of the day. I’m almost always annoyingly up with the sun [especially if I got my eight hours and really, my stomach always seems to make very compelling arguments] and he sleeps in since he was up until the sun just about decided to get up.

Not to say he doesn’t ever get up in the mornings. He does. I’ve seen him do it. I swear.