Do you ever really want to see a movie, knowing that it's going to be bad. That happens to me whenever there is a new M. Night Shyamalan movie coming out. I either love his movies or hate them. I loved The Sixth Sense and Signs. And last year, I had to go see The Village despite the terrible reviews, only to discover that it deserved every bad thing everyone said about it. So far, The Lady in the Water seems to be following suit with that. The reviews I have read are brutal, yet I still want to see it. Someone please explain to me why I torture myself.
Anyway, back to real life. We are still recovering from birthday party aftermath at our house. I looked around this morning at all the new toys, and realized I have no place to put them. That is the only bad thing about birthdays - more stuff to add to the current stuff and old stuff equals way too much stuff. Maybe we'll just move.
Unfortunately, my husband and I are both pack rats, which is a bad combination. One pack rat should never marry another because before you know it, you are up to your eyeballs in stuff since neither of you are capable of throwing anything away. I think I am going to have to bite the bullet and get rid of some toys. The only problems with this are 1. it's going to take a heck of a lot of energy that I currently don't have and 2. if Eli sees me getting rid of anything, I will have to endure the wrath of a tantrum. There has to be a way around that.
I have spent the morning cleaning out the closet in the utility room because I am in charge of (drumroll, please) the wedding dress! Heather has her final fitting tomorrow night and doesn't want to take her dress all the way back to Independence because she doesn't want it to get scrunched in her truck. So, she's bringing it to my house. I decided the closet in the utility room was the best place for it because the utility room door has a child lock on it, so that is the only place in the house I can be certain the dress will be safe from sticky little fingers. I take my responsibility seriously.
Speaking of the wedding, I did the math today, and discovered something that truly caused me nausea. I made a promise that I wasn't going to talk about periods or bodily functions in my blog, but today is an exception. I counted the days, and I am due to start my period the day of the wedding! Now I not only have to worry about normally fitting into my bridesmaid's dress, but fitting into it while bloated and retaining. This is so not cool! I have come to believe there are forces working against me. Now, in addition to my arms, I have to worry about a bloated tummy and boobs! That's just great!
What I originally planned to talk about today was the story of Eli's birthday cake. That story would have made yesterday's blog way too long, so I'm adding it today. In a previous blog, I believe I complained about the Russian lady taking the cake orders. (I've also complained about the Russian lady at the bridal shop. I'm beginning to believe the Russian mafia is out to get me.)
Anyway, I was right to be concerned. That's what really sucks. I knew all week that cake was going to be messed up before I even went in to get it. First off, I ordered cupcakes - but not just regular cupcakes, pull-apart cupcakes. If you're not familiar with that, it basically means, they arrange the cupcakes into whatever shape you want, and then frost it and decorate it like it's an actual cake. Then you just pull the cupcakes apart and eat them. Great idea.
When I went to pick up my cupcakes, they handed me two containers, each containing 12 plain white cupcakes each with plain frosting. I literally had to take deep breaths and count to ten before calmly saying, "This is not what I ordered." It was a different girl working, so while the devil voice in my head was screaming obscenities, the angel voice was calmly telling me it wasn't her fault. Luckily, the Russian lady was not working or I don't think the devil voice could have been contained.
I explained to her that our theme was Bob the Builder, and I wanted a construction theme to go with that. I had written out the ticket myself, and I believe I was specific. The day I ordered, I even pointed to a cake they were decorating at the time, and said, "Something like that would be perfect." The girl said there was some confusion as to what I wanted, and they didn't know whether to do a pull-apart or not. I was under the impression that's why I provided a phone number, so they could call me if they had any f***ing questions, but I digress.
I just said, "I wrote on the sheet that I wanted 'Happy Birthday, Eli.' How did you think you were going to write that on regular cupcakes?" She just said, "Yeah, that kind of confused us." AAAA!! Then I said that I also asked for half white cupcakes and half chocolate cupcakes, and pointed to the sheet where that was written. The girl sighed because apparently I was putting her out, and offered to redo the cupcakes and said it would take 20 minutes.
So, I tooled around Target with my mom. She was thrilled, by the way, because she never gets a chance to just look around. I kept going back over to see if my cupcakes were ready yet, and 45 minutes later(!!!), the girl was done with them in the design I originally ordered - a pull-apart Bob the Builder theme. It looked great, and luckily they gave me a big discount, so at least I saved money.
I'm sure I will go back to Target in the future because for some reasons their cakes taste so much better than HyVee's. But if the Russian lady is working next time, I think I'll make my own damn cupcakes.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Let them eat cake
Posted by Neila at 2:35 PM
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment