Dragonfly
As many of you are all snug in your beds, I've just finished a marathon baking experience involving Gingerbread men and Peppermint Bark cupcakes. So, of course, I wanted to sit down and blog.

The GMs... meh, they're okay. I'm not that great at frosting cookies in general and usually avoid it. All that piping of frosting that dries almost before it's out of the bag and those intricate little lines... Zzzzzz. Blech. Still, they were interesting and okay-fun until the Doodlebug ditched me for baseball in the lovely (*snort*) SPRING weather. After that, I just slapped on some sparkly sugar and considered them done. Or maybe I started making them evil. Hey, what's a Christmas party without a Dracula Gingerbread man and his trusty sidekick, the Gingerbread Maniac?

The cupcakes? Test run successful with only a minor change or two for the real deal. The cakes themselves were Oh So Yummy... though the batter was a bit different than what I'm used to. There may have been a bit of cursing and jumping about while trying to get it into the cupcake papers without making a gargantuan mess. My trusty ice cream scoop Did. Not. Work. They baked up all rich and chocolatey, though!

The icing? Pretty darn good BUT.... I think there is something wrong with me. I always end up with twice as much icing a) than what it was supposed to make and b) than what I needed. I'm going to tweak it just a bit, using a tad less peppermint extract (as the amount used today masked the white chocolate flavor a bit). Also... I screwed up on the color. I'd intended to make half of it pink and half of it white and then pipe them both out at the same time for a cool swirly effect; only I was talking to Mr. Clean while making it and forgot to take half of it out to stay white. So it's all very, very, pink.

I would have taken pictures but I'm charging my batteries just now. I have to take pictures of GypsyRose (my sister) and her little family tomorrow. Umm, that would include GR, my niece (8), GR's boyfriend, the three HORSES they will be sitting on (who will be wearing reindeer antlers), and her dog. We're trying to figure out a way to get the dog either on a horse or on the same level as the horses, somehow. Ought to be loads of fun. Really. I'm doing a backflip yippee on the inside.

I'll have to report back on how that goes. In the meantime, DebR had some great MeMe's over at her blog and I have some down time for once so I'm hijacking them. Actually, I think I'll just do one of them and save the others for later.

First up to bat... Strange Factoids. Because... you know... blogging weird stuff about myself never gets old. (oh, and the fact that some of these might be a bit like Deb's... Not. My. Fault. I can't help that we're so much alike and it was hard trying to find a bunch that were completely different!! I'm not that strange!)

1) As mentioned briefly in a previous blog, I like the smell of skunk. Not in an Oh-what-a-lovely-perfume-I-must-roll-around-in-it kind of way but... Let's just say that when we're rolling down the road and the smell of skunk rises up to smack us in the face, I'm not the girl who quickly covers her face and starts squealing (like a girl). No. I take a sniff and say, "Oh. Skunk!" Kind of in the way guys like to smell their own farts? I know. Weird.

2) My mind really is like a steel trap. Besides remembering song lyrics from decades ago and knowing every word to every song currently playing on the radio, I also remember entire conversations from years and years ago (as well as what everyone was wearing, driving, eating, doing... oh, just all the damn details). Usually, they're random moments in time that just sort of "stick" in my brain. A bit like gum on the underside of a desk, really.

I've been known to pipe up in the middle of conversations with things like, "Oh, just like that time you said this and that and then you did that thing. Ha ha, you were wearing that shirt I always teased you about, too. Remember? How can you not remember that? We were at that place and that song was playing on the radio!"

And then my friends look at me like I've just beamed myself down from outer space and say things like, "You said you'd never dropped acid before! Or are you on it now? What is that in your drink?"

3) I'm seriously domestically challenged. I'd rather tweeze my legs clean than touch a vacuum or dust rag or sponge. It's a really REALLY good thing I married Mr. Clean. He likes doing that stuff. And I like that he likes doing that stuff. Because I don't. BUT. I'm a organizational nut. Everything has a place. Always. It should never move from that place because then I won't be able to find it. And I've been known to run around the house while ripping out my hair and claiming, at the top of my lungs, that someone.. Someone, by dog! has stolen! what ever it is that I'm looking for. Because it was NOT where I left it.

Disclaimer: Blame it on my Daddy. It's one of those genetic gifts that keeps on giving. I've recently learned, during the great PS2 memory card theft drama, that my eldest spawnling has also inherited it from me. Fun! By the way, he found it on the floor in his room and now claims we have a ghost. Who stole it. And then returned it. To make him think he was crazy, of course.

4) Of all the pairs of shoes I own, only one or two pairs are actually in the closet. The rest are willy nilly about the house, lying wherever I chose to kick them off. I am simply incapable of putting my shoes up. I'm also wholly incapable of finding the pair I need when I need them. I mean they could be anywhere! So I have to backtrack to the last moment I can remember wearing them and then what I was doing when I kicked them off (and what kind of mood I was in to determine how far they may have been flung) and then incorporate all sorts of outside circumstances... like spawnlings who think it's funny to put them somewhere else or whether Mr. Clean vacuumed recently (as he will also Move. Them.). This serves as a great source of entertainment to my guys. They'll sit back on the couch and writhe with giggles while I run about barefoot talking to myself, stopping only to emit random screeches about how someone has now stolen my shoes too!

5) 95% of the time, I know who's calling me before I answer the phone AND I completely freak those people out when I greet them by name before they've uttered a word. The other 5% is attributed to people who hardly ever call me and/or telemarketers. Why can't I work this freakish little gift with the Fruitbatting telemarketers?!?!

Also? I read people in a way that totally squicks them out. I don't mean to. It just happens. I've been known to finish other people's sentences, flawlessly... but normally it's just with people I know pretty well. It happened once with someone I'd just met and he never talked to me again. He also went out of his way to avoid me afterwards. So now I bite my tongue when other people are talking, or the inside of my cheek; unless I'm in a situation where drinking is involved. Then I let loose with the squicky because hey, who's going to notice?

Oh and one more thing? It comes in VERY handy with spawnlings. Think you're going to pull a fast one on me? Hah! Think again.

6) Last, but not least... I had problems coming up with a sixth. I asked Mr. Clean and he said, "There's nothing strange about you that I can think of." Sweet man. A liar... but very sweet. I jiggled my gray matter about for a while, took a break, got a breath of fresh air and then came up with one last tiny strange factoid: The supposedly most relaxing scent on earth, the one everyone swears by - Lavender - gives me intense migraines if I get even so much as a whiff of it. This makes going into some stores and spas very difficult. My mother adores Lavender. Loves the stuff. Populates her entire bathroom with loads of it. It drives me batty.

So there you go... 6 strange factoids about me. If you'd like to join in , just go post 6 strange factoids about yourself on your blog and then leave me a note in the comments so I can go read them. Oh just do it. You know you want to.

Okay, have to run. I can hear a little snoring coming from the living room and darn it, it's Saturday night. There's no snoring (or sleeping) allowed on Saturday night!
1 Response
  1. Deb R Says:

    Well you sound perfectly normal to me. Not weird at all! :-)

    PS..loved the Elf thing. I made one of those a few days ago but when I tried to email it to myself if never showed....tried three different email addies and it didn't show up at any of them. :-/