wedding

The five-assed monkey lives!

Some time back, I had the opportunity to go to the zoo.  This isn't just any zoo, mind you, it's the Mexico City zoo.  Yup, D.F.  I really loved my time in Mexico, but I digress.

You see, I was under the impression that the five-assed monkey only lived at the top of the hill in the crazy genetic scientist's lab.  He may even have been just a figment of someone's deluded imagination, but I was wrong.  He lives in the zoo in Mexico City.  I even got a picture of him.

 

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I hope that you can see him well in all of his glory.  He's a beautiful five-assed specimen.

Sure the zoo has other critters too, you know, lions and tigers, and bears, oh my.  Bears.  It was bear feeding time when we got to the bears.  So adorable the pandas eating their lettuce and apples.  The koalas and a couple other random bears.  All hanging out, having a little party, a luncheon if you will.  So cute, until you see that one poor bear was left out of the party.

Poor guy, all alone, no one to bear talk to, no one to give a bear hug.  Poor black bear.  Whatchya havin for lunch buddy?  Apples, lettuce, carrots?  No?  So what do you have there?  What?  Really?  They gave you that?

So what do you think the black bear was eating all by his lonesome?  And really, I couldn't just make this up.  One black bear, separate from the other bears, eating watermelon.  I kid you not.  I'm sure that I nearly busted a gut laughing at this.  Since when do bears know about segregation and stereotypes?!?!

This capped off a wonderful day at the zoo.  I got a great tiger picture too.

Mexico City rules!  Don't let anyone tell you otherwise and if you go, make sure to stop by Litros where all the drinks, no matter what they are, come in a one litre container.  That's a whole different post though. 🙂

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Can't….stop…..thinking….

The last two nights, my boyfriend and I have been hammering out some plans for a new business venture (stay tuned).  So the last two days have looked like this:

  • Work (where it's been a little hectic lately)
  • Home (pick up daughter, do homework for the classes that never end, have dinner, do more homework)
  • Shower
  • Talk for a couple hours about the new business
  • Try to go to sleep

Everything is fine until that last step.  I think I've been overloading my brain lately.  Last night and the night before, I laid down to go to sleep and the strangest thing happens.  I close my eyes and I start seeing random clips.  The weird thing is that these aren't movie clips or memories, just crazy ideas I guess.  They're very vivid, almost in 3-D and they only last ten or twenty seconds before jumping to a completely different scene.

I open my eyes and it stops, but the second I close them again, it starts up again.  I figure this lasts for at least 15 to 20 minutes before I actually fall asleep.  What the hell is happening to me?  Is my brain just trying to get rid of some information?  Am I going crazy?  Oh wait, I'm already crazy.  Does this happen to normal people?  Dammit, just remembered that I'm not normal either.  Well, has it happened to you?!?!

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QotD: Secret Family Recipe – Peach junk

What's one family recipe that you wish you knew how to cook?

Many moons ago, my grandmother would make a dessert that would just knock your socks off.  It never had an official name.  It was some sort of cross between a pie, a cobbler, and an upside-down cake with peaches.  My brother and I lovingly called it "Peach Junk". 

I spent a lot of time in the kitchen with my grandmother, trying to pry recipes out of her, but she was old skool and had no recipes or measurements for anything.  I do believe that I somehow picked up the brunt of the mac and cheese recipe, but to this day, Peach Junk eludes me.

It is truly a sad day on this earth when there is no one that can re-create the delicacy of Peach Junk.  Gram, you are sorely missed.

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March 6, 2007

Today, my father would have been 62 years old.  Unfortunately, he passed almost ten years ago on July 3, one day before one of his favorite barbequeing days.  I know that he watched over us and saw no wrong in our having a big BBQ on July 4 to celebrate his life.  I miss you Dad and I wish I could've been there to say goodbye.  Rest in peace.  I know you're watching. 

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QotD: Recess!

What was your favorite game to play at recess in grade school? 
Submitted by Elisheva Chana.

Ahh, recess.  That special time of day when, right after lunch, we were encouraged to go run around like maniacs.  I swear it's a miracle in and of itself that no one ever got sick, but I digress.

Back in the day, we played a game called Release.  I suppose it's just like Tag.  One person is "it" and tries to go around tagging people.  If you got tagged, you went to the "jail", which was a huge tree.  I honestly don't remember how you got to be "not it" anymore, but if someone who wasn't "it" got to the tree without getting tagged, he or she would scream "RELEASE!" at the top of his/her lungs and everyone in jail got to go run around some more.

At this moment, I stand about five foot one and weigh in at about 125 or so.  Then, I'm sure I was no more than four foot seven and nowhere near 100 pounds.  I was small for my age, but boy was I quick.  One particular afternoon during a rousing game of Release, I was running for the jail to release my buddies.  I suppose that I turned my head for a second to see if anyone was on my tail.  That split second caused me over a week of pain.  As I turned to look forward, directly in front of me, also not looking and running hard, was Christine Patterson.  Where I was small for my age, Christine was equally as tall for her age.  This is fifth grade I'm talking about here and the girl was already pushing 6 feet.  There wasn't enough time for either of us to stop or change direction and he result was a head-on collision.

Christine got off easy with the knee of her jeans ripped.  I, on the other hand, ended up with a bruised kneecap.  Don't think for a moment that a child doesn't know the meaning of excruciating pain, because I did.  For the rest of that day (and that week), I walked around with one leg straight because it hurt so bad to bend it.  The one time it was FORCED to bend was the day it happened on the bus ride home.  Our principal got on every bus to make sure everyone was okay.  My seatmate didn't understand what happened and thought I was just being a baby and took it upon herself to force my leg into a bent position.  I'm pretty sure I almost passed out.  I made it home though, and good ole Gram fixed it up for me.

Endnote:  No Release! for me for a little while after the incident.

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