Moi, Toi, et VoI: May 2006

Still Pondering Almost But Not Quite Obsessively

The Mindfuck a la Royale I received over the weekend.

But whatever.

I'll be over it in a day or two, girls and Bats. Just bear with me. I promise I'll be back to my calm rational self in the next 48 hours. And mad as hell. Grrr! Not used to this shite. Seriously. I better start paying more attention to Dr. Phil.

I'm pretty stressed out. Eating healthy has taken a turn for the worse. Last night and tonight's "dinner" was comprised of Combos (pepperoni pizza variety), a nice olive mix from DiBruno Brothers and Bonny Doon '03 Montepulciano. This is a great wine. The fifth bottle I've bought over the course of the, er, month. Yeah.

HOWEVER! I've booked my tix for my summer StressFree Vacation-a-palooza! Woot woot! Philly to Amsterdam and Glasgow to Philly return. Other than that, who knows what's in store for The Fabulous Baker Girl! Lots of cafe sitting, park sleeping, and wandering. And Mass on Sunday of course.

Watch out Vikings and Celts. She's coming. Soon.

Idiotic T-Shirt Siting of the Day: E. coli Happens.

Turkey Boy Update:
TB: My, you're scantily clad today.
OV: It's HOT out.
TB: Are you trying to turn me on?
OV: You're freaking me out.

This Is A Shoutout To My Friends...

PeopleCat, Martha, & Brooke not to mention The Bats....

You guys are the best.

You've patiently walked me through the past 24 hours. Without you...XXXXXXXXXXXX. I'm just so XXXXXXXXX. WTF? I don't XXXXXXXXXXXX. You guys have been The Best Friends. Totally Appreciate It. Too much Scotch and XXXXXXXX. Thanks for stopping me from the dreadful texting. This is some dangerous shite. Argh....XXXXXXXXXXX....BUT! XXXXXXXX...but I know....XXXXXXXXXXXX....

So grateful I could cry right now....XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX. For real for real.

love you guys xx,

OV

Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others.

I made my annual trip to buy new bras on Sunday.

Just out of curiosity, I asked the woman to measure me. I've been a 32D forever. TRUST ME PEOPLE. THIS IS A CURSE. It is nearly impossible to find bras this size unless you want to spend $65+ for the fancy French ones at Bloomie's. I'm small around the chest, but have always kept weight in my boobs. Apparently the Frozen Enchilada Protracted Stress Diet did the trick because I'm smaller all over than I was in high school.

She measured me and when I told her what size I was wearing, she said "Are you kidding me? You're like a 32C. Barely. I'd go with a B." Woot woot! I was elated. I'll take it!

I've always been very self conscious about my boobs, and to finally be "average" was thrilling beyond compare. I can finally just walk into a store and pick out the pretty ones now. Woot woot!

My self-consciousness no doubt comes from being an early bloomer. Send in Judy Blume and the analysts...There's a fifth grader in there itching to be freed! Woot woot!

Eight Reasons Why I Heart Philly.

Seriously.

All you New Yorkers, take heed. Trust me when I say Philly rocks. I know it's hard to believe that there is life south of Delancey Street. But you've gotta believe me. Granted, I wouldn't believe me if I were still living there, but take a leap of faith. Or the Chinatown Express and come and check this shite out for yourself. You'll be pleasantly surprised.

1. Center City is loaded with 25-35 year olds. LOADED. And a few of the boys are damn cute. Heh.

2. The Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon is TOTALLY AND COMPLETELY TRUE: Everyone you know knows someone you know. It was a little creepy when I first moved here, but it makes party conversation so much easier, can I just tell you? In fact, I met someone who has the same weed dealer as me! Go figure!

3. You can walk to anywhere in Center City within 25 minutes. No subways, no cabs necessary. Just plug in THE BATS and walk.

4. This is a town of people who like to drink and smoke. Mama Likey.

5. The music scene is surprisingly decent.

6. The BYOB scene is surprisingly excellent. Hey New Yorkers: You can bring booze to restaurants other than shitty Chinese and Indian joints and they'll open the bottle for you and give you a glass and for the most part not charge a corking fee.

7. It's easy to get the word out about that new hipster bakery with the most fantastic logo*that just opened at The Circus. There's a buzz, man. A buzz! Mama Really Likey the Buzzes. Keep it coming. Stop by and buy some fabulous brownies endorsed by Discerning Connoisseurs from Around The Globe and The Philadelphia Inquirer (woo hoo!) and check out the best coffee and the prettiest bakers.**

8. I've made some fantastic friends here. And not just MacDuff The Bartender at The Monkey Bar. 'Nuff said.

*Coming soon. Very very soon. We're talking about a line of t-shirts and onesies here. Those of you who've seen it, say aye, right? It is wicked great.
**Not my words....

This is just a fun fuckin' town.

I Will Be 600 lbs by the Time I Sell This Place.

Good god, I've made some friends at The Circus. I've been bringing by cupcakes and brownies and such to the various vendors in the Circus, to make good will, and to, erm...get some free food. I admit it. I'm a whore.

Today the sushi people brought over some maki for yours truly and then the cheesesteak guy insisted I come over and get my freebie so I did. But I only took a bite (ok, well 3, then passed the rest on to J. Errmmm...highly recommended! Better than Geno's, locals!). Now whenever I go to the pizza place or the fancy food place I can get whatever I want for free or for $2, depending on who's working that day. This is bad. Really bad.

Turkey Boy Update: He tells a customer that not only does The Canary have The Best Coffee, but "also the prettiest bakers". Argh. Remind me not to desire any freebie stuffing.

I've been ditched tonight. Twice! Had plans, person bagged. Made alternate plans, person bagged 'til Sunday. Arggggghh! Now I must eat all of this heavily discounted Brie de Meaux by myself. Bastard, you. Arggghh.

Double arggghh.

I've Seen the Light!

Someone finally informed me that the '1' key has the necessary punctuation required for not seeming mildly retarded or stuck in the 19th Century ("meet you @ the sidecar STOP see you at 7 STOP").

Turkey Boy will not stop harassing me. He came to the shop about 6 times today. The FIRST time to inquire about my dating habits. Gives me the shivers even thinking about it.

New Favorite Album of the Moment: The Bats at the National Grid. It is wicked jangly! Great stuff. Why these bastards aren't more popular here baffles me. Enh, no it doesn't. Sigh.

Big Dipper, Little Dipper.

Last night Guinness Girl gave me a lesson in dipping. She is a freakin' pro.

Yum.

OK, we were a little drunk at the time and I was curious as hell because I know GG enjoys it on some weird id level and good god, I was just curious as all gettout. So we bought some mint Skoal and a six pack of Woodchuck to wash it down (and recycle the bottles as spittoons).

GG, I love you, but the dippin' just ain't for me. As you could probably tell when I got so dizzy from the teensy weensy piece I placed in my mouth and couldn't open my eyes for 15 minutes straight because I seriously thought I was going to puke or pass out.

But really the worst part of it is the disposal. GG insisted we use cups that we could throw out because chewed up dip is just about one of the nastiest substances on earth. And this morning I found a dried up piece of it on my couch, so trust me on this, she's 100% correct.

***
And on another note, Mr. Turkey, one of my boyfriends from the turkey sandwich shop, sent one of his very South Philly coworkers over to The Canary to ask me for my number. Ouch! Unfortunately for him, I flat out refused. Poor bastard. All day long he was asking me weird questions and acting very possessive. It creeped me out to no end. Not that I would ever in a million years give Mr. Turkey my number, but his creepiness came out in full force today. Oops. I don't think I'm going to be getting free stuffing anymore.

My Accountant is Going to Kick My Ass.

As previously mentioned, I suck at paperwork. My handbag has become my file cabinet for The Canary. I can't find my Bookkeeping Book, which is supposed to supplement Quickbooks, which I have installed on the PC I bought specifically for that purpose but have not started inputting into yet because I haven't gotten my online access to my bank accountants yet.

I am so screwed. Scared, screwed...My files, bills, cash register receipts are in a crumpled up pile in various cabinets, envelopes and aforementioned handbag. And each day that brings in more paper, obviously the worse it gets.

Oh yeah, and I can't find my phone either. Frack!

And bloody 'ell, what am I supposed to do with those little credit card receipts that people sign? Anybody, anbody? Does anybody know?

I've realized that in addition to the accountant that I need to do my quarterly taxes, the payroll service to do the paychecks, now I must hire a bookkeeper to handle my weekly paper pushing. And I realize that I must hire another baker to help out because I can't do both baking and paperwork. Otherwise I'd never get any sleep. And believe me, I'm working on 3-5 hours a night average at this point.

Argh!

Fondle My Moist Slacks. Please.

No doubt that title will get some nice google searching..

It is sheer coincidence that this post is along the same vein as Whinger's, I swear. I just hadn't had a chance to blog about it until now...along with a glass of Pinot and some ANTM (Congrats Danielle!).

Anyway, we were talking at work about our least favorite words (god knows how it came up - it was 8 in the morning). JMan's is "fondle", B's is "moist" and mine is "slacks". (Can I just say for the record that my word is the only one that doesn't conjure up Freudian theories about my childhood - I think? Anyway...)...So, the world's ugliest sentence has to be "Fondle [one's] moist slacks."

Pretty gross, right?

This is the brilliance that comes from drinking yourself silly the night before, waking up at 4:45 unable to fall asleep, so you decide to 'be productive' and shoot emails off to people, who take note of the time and think you're either some sort of vampire wacko or a profound overachieving maniac.

I feel a little bad about missing out on Essex Green at the Khyber tonight, but I couldn't resist a quiet evening with the kitties and Tivo. Call me lame. That's fine.

I'm Not Even Gonna Try and Hide It.

I'm drunk.

Well, four cosmos later and just got back from being drunk, but six of one, half dozen of the other, right?

Didn't get to watch the Top Chef Reunion as previously planned, but I'm sure I'll catch it at some point tonight...oh well, I'm positive Steven's gonna get his pompous ass whooped...how much fun will that be to watch?

Anyway, had a fabulous-o day at The Circus today. There was a convention of enginerds, that continues through tomorrow and damn The Cantankerous Canary did a SLAMMING amount of business. Noice.

Cheers, my peeps. Must get up too early for words...so...

Going to enjoy a little Trader Joe's Gorgonzola ravioli (sound familiar?) and some Wives of Orange County before I REALLY make a fool of myself.

TTFN (that's Ta Ta For Now...)

St. Somewhere Else.

Y'all have probably figured out by now that there are Weird People at The Circus. It's the Bermuda Triangle of Philadelphia, the Sedona of Center City, the Stonehenge of Delaware Valley...(I'm finished.)...it draws freaky folk from great and afar. No doubt, the people who come to shop there are as odd as the people who work there.

Today there was a guy dressed in FULL SURGEON'S REGALIA eating a pastrami sandwich in the food court. Wtf is that? He had on the scrubs, the paper hat and the mask! Well, the mask wasn't on his mouth, but it was still attached to his neck, but turned around behind his ears. I couldn't tell if he still had the paper slippers on or not as he was sitting, but, geez, doesn't that instill such confidence in the hygienic habits of the folks who are cutting you open and giving your innards some fresh air?

Oh yeah, and I forgot to mention the other day there were sumo matches in front of the roast pork joint.

There is No Such Thing as a Stupid Question.

Top Five Questions asked by customers at the Canary.

1. Is it good? Umm, no. It sucks. Don't buy it. As a matter of fact, run. Turn around and run away because this cupcake is so horrible, it will make your head spin. I swear it.

2. Does the ginger lime poundcake taste like ginger lime?

3. Is it moist? No, lady. Dry as a FUCKING bone is how I like my cakes. I really prefer to choke on them and then allow someone the privilege of giving me the Heimlich.

4. Is it fresh? No, we're saving it to bequeath it to the British Museum.

5. Will you make it look nice? Well, actually, we're running a special on Ugly Cakes, so if you're interested, you get 15% off on something that looks like total shit!

Errmmm....

There's a dog version too.

Pass the J, Martha.

Hmm...what an assignment....

1. Joint. The first word I thought of. Not because I'm a pothead or anything. Anymore.
2. Jewish/Jewessness. C'est moi. I feel it in my bones.
3. Jura. One of the Scottish isles that makes some wicked scotch. I'd kill to visit, but I think it's a bitch to get there. Will have to check my Rough Guide and get back to you.
4. Jurgen. Austrian chef-instructor at FCI who is the best, most discplined Euro-like chef I know. And could make anything out of marzipan. Anything.
5. Judy. Is a name that appears a in lot in songs I like. An homage to The Beatles?
6. Junket. One of my favorite books, John Henry Days by Coleson Whitehead is about the junketeer circuit.
7. Jangle. I absolutely adore jangly music. Janglepop. Fun dancey music that usually has excellent singable lyrics. Nothing like dancin' around the kitchen in your new polka dotted mules!
8. Jarlsberg. Ermm, not my favorite cheese, but I'm losing steam here...
9. Joe Pernice. Ahh...and I got a text message that he was just on Gilmore Girls and I missed him.
10. Jam. I like...raspberry jam?

EXTRA CREDIT: 11. Jeremy. First boyfriend in high school. Dumped me moments before a Depeche Mode show. I am forever scarred.

I Have Four Boyfriends

at the Circus.

1. "TJ" - 61 year old poultry butcher accosted me at the loading dock to tell me he likes me and wants to take me out to dinner and then I'll come over to his house for dinner so he "can cook me greens the right way". You know why he likes me? Because I "don't have hair 'there'" (pointed to my fingers).

2. "The Gobbler" - works at the turkey sandwich stand. Comes by everyday asking when the coffee's coming. Gives me 'the eye' when I give him the Circus workers' discount on brownies. I'm considering stopping giving him the discount.

3. "Ponytail Pete" or "Produce Pete" or "PP" - skinny, pasty guy with a long straggly ponytail who works in the Market. Has a tendency to stare in the general direction of The Canary. We find him odd.

4. "Mr. iPod" - Baldheaded dude who works at the roast pork stand comes by and attempts to catch my eye through the sneezeguard. When we do make eye contact he pulls out his iPod to show it to me. Definitely not a person I would want to know where I live. Creepy!

And I didn't even include J, who owns the cookbook shop who says she wants to make out with me everytime I bring her a cupcake.

** And can I just say for the record that I am having a most lovely evening sipping a Ravenswood '04 Shiraz (Aussie), smoking a cigarette and wearing my new polka dotted mules from eBay France and sweatpants around the house for absolutely no reason at all?

Speechless.

I've lost my voice to a cough/cold/laryngitis thingy. I can't speak above a whisper. Maybe it's from too much shmoozing last week.

This is frustrating because I've actually finished all my work for the evening and I can't talk on the phone. PeopleCat is studying for a CivPro exam, so no trip to McCooligan's tonight and I figure I ought to stay off the sauce anyway to hasten my recovery, which made watching Spanglish practically painful.

What's a girl to do?

I suppose I could start a new book or read my travel guide or even blog about something heady and/or interesting, but I think I'd rather bitch about the fact that I'm bored and mute instead.

Besides Big Love is going to be on in six minutes.

A Day at the Circus.

I took The Staff out drinking last night.

Aren't I a cool Bosslady?

We started out at Oscar's in an effort to hunt down Spidey*. Oscar's could possibly be the Diviest of Divey Bars Ever. It's got that good old Southie flair right in the heart of Center City! We ordered some "nachos", which was essentially ketchup with taco seasoning, Cheez Wiz (I don't even know how to spell it! And I ain't gonna google it either! heh!) and a few sad little pickled jalepenos atop a mountain of broken tortilla chips. On a paper plate meant to look like...wood? Anyway, The Staff got a real hoot out of Oscar's. I think they appreciated the place in the same way that one might appreciate the Burger King ad campaign.

For a change of pace, and because the "dj" (an old dude wearing a Hawaiian shirt) insisted on playing godican'tevenrememberitwassohideousijustwanttoforget, we headed of to Ludwig's, a Bavarian themed bar/brat house. We laughed, we cried. They got drunk. I left. They got more drunk.

***

I'm at the Circus and I just spotted Dennis from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, a show I've been meaning to blog about because it's the effin' funniest show that's nobody's ever seen. I recognized him, but didn't put it together at first. I looked at him and just pointed with my mouth hanging open like a freakin' mute and he looked back at me with this expression like "Do I know YOU?" and then I laughed and smiled and nodded like "Oh, right! THAT'S who you are!" If I see him, I'll slip him a free brownie! I'm such a dork!

Addendum: I spotted Dennis again and apologized for freaking him out. He said it was weird because 'hardly anybody ever recognizes' him from the show anyway. And I gave him a brownie! Ha! Oh, and he said the season starts again June 29th. Cheers!

*Only one person who reads this blog will get it. Sorry folks.

Tidbits.

A guy bought a brownie and says to me "I read your blog all the time!"

I look at this stranger sideways through slitty eyes.

"You...read...my blog?"
"Yeah, your blog. About your shop. And scotch."
"My blog. You read my blog?"

Now I'm starting to get a little nervous. A stalker? Who is this person?

"My blog?"
"Yeah, the one on www.NASCARFOODIE.com "
"Good god! You mean my column!"

***

GG and I shared two bottles of Napa wine at Pico de Gallo last night. TIP: Offer the waitress a glass to taste to avoid the corking fee!

Sixteen and Pretty.

I'm sure I'm the last person on the planet to watch My Super Sweet Sixteen.

I caught 3 straight hours of it the other night. It could be my new crack. It's like watching a train wreck. A train wreck on crack. I've been to some wacky bar mitzvahs in my day, but these parties take the freakin' cake.

What I find fascinating is that each episode is basically the same. The only things that change are the color of the girls' hair, the location, and what type of convertible they end up getting. Most of the girls have a Middle Eastern/Mediterranean theme which involves men they've interviewed and hired to carry them into their party on a litter. And the boys generally go for the Royal/Pimp thing; they prefer to walk themselves out of a Rolls, onto a red carpet and into a sea of 'adoring' friends.

There are usually several costume changes throughout the evening. There are always people who try and crash the party and are promptly escorted out by some beefy security. And of course, at the end of the party Daddy (I'm not being snarky here, they always call their fathers Daddy.) wheels out a black convertible (9 times out of 10, it's a Mercedes 'for safety'), everyone is screaming, the kid jumps into the driver's seat and says "I can't wait until I get my license!!"

I love this show.

Big upset on Top Chef last night. I was sure it was going to be Dave or Tiffani. But a fellow alum - sent packing! Oy! Haven't read Tom's blog yet, but I'm sure he has his reasons.

Oh, and GO HAROLD! Popcorn ceviche! Noice!

T-Shirt Weather.

I saw a guy wearing a t-shirt that said 'A Watched Pot Never Boils'.

What do you think happened in this person's life in which he saw this shirt and said, "Yeah! How so very true. I've gotta get that."? Kind of a strange mantra to wear on your chest. It's not clever and witty unless you're a Poor Richard's Almanac fan I suppose, it's not political or saucy, and as far as I know, it's not a double entendre of any kind either.

I think I'm gonna get a tattoo. PeopleCat and I met at McCooligan's again last night and we both decided we want another one (her)/one (me). I saw some cool white ones on some of the ladies at the Feminist Seder and now I'm rather intrigued. Maybe a fiesty little cupcake? I've got to mull it over. I just don't know what I could live with for the rest of my life and not get sick of it. I'm very fickle.

Moi, Toi, et VoI

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Still Pondering *Almost But Not Quite Obsessively*

Monday, May 29, 2006

This Is A Shoutout To My Friends...

Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others.

Saturday, May 27, 2006

Eight Reasons Why I Heart Philly.

Friday, May 26, 2006

I Will Be 600 lbs by the Time I Sell This Place.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

I've Seen the Light!

Monday, May 22, 2006

Big Dipper, Little Dipper.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

My Accountant is Going to Kick My Ass.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Fondle My Moist Slacks. Please.

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

I'm Not Even Gonna Try and Hide It.

Monday, May 15, 2006

St. Somewhere Else.

Saturday, May 13, 2006

There is No Such Thing as a Stupid Question.

Friday, May 12, 2006

Errmmm....

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Pass the J, Martha.

I Have Four Boyfriends

Sunday, May 07, 2006

Speechless.

Saturday, May 06, 2006

A Day at the Circus.

Friday, May 05, 2006

Tidbits.

Thursday, May 04, 2006

Sixteen and Pretty.

Monday, May 01, 2006

T-Shirt Weather.

Contributors

Baking

Booze of the Day

T-Shirt/Bumper Sticker/Tattoo Sighting of the Day

Reading on My Kindle

It's the Kind of Day

Coveting

Looking Forward To

Burning Question

Stuck In My Head

Stuff You Should Click On (in no particular order. I know where everything is. Welcome to my world.)

So Yesterday

The Stacks

Still Pondering Almost But Not Quite Obsessively