Jitterbug's Beat

Sexy cake.

 

Funny, you know, I plugged in that title and thought HOLY SHIT I can't even imagine the hits my blog will get thanks to this snazzy title.  Anyhoo, ITS COMING.  That's right, the next book in the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon, and I'm in one of those almost-doing-the-potty-dance-I'm-so-excited-I-can-barely-stand-it phases. 

My BFF Kristi recently started reading the Outlander series and I'm THRILLED to share these amazing stories with her - it just makes it all the better.  Sorry, it's not football, it's not the new Rock Star, and people who don't read just won't get it (or this blog entry either - it will probably just look like random squiggles on a page, so if you can't read, what the hell are you doing looking at a blog?  This isn't porn!) and with Kristi's permission I get to print her first email to me about our amazing Scottish hero, Jamie:

K: "By the way, you were right about Jamie... SWOON."

Me: "I know, right!?! If I ever find myself single again, I'm moving to Scotland."

K: "The problem is that of course we love men who are written by women.  Women create the perfect men, gruff and manly when necessary, gallant and brave and protective but also kind, thoughtful, caring, sweet and funny.  Real men are missing about half of those qualities because they are missing some essential aspect of what makes women... well, women.  Because let's face it, the parts we truly fall for in these guys (Jamie, Edward the Vampire) are the sweet aspects.  The manly, sexy stuff is the icing on the cake.  The very sexy cake."

Because sometimes, you just have to punch a turkey leg.

So JW and I are addicted to Man vs. Food.  Ever watch that show?  Between the Travel Channel and the Food Network, I get to experience everything I can't [afford to] do: (a) jet off to Europe on a whim (b) eat all the gourmet food I want to and never gain weight (thank YOU Giada) and (c) work for Charm City Cakes.  On M vs. F Adam travels all around the U.S., eats food at all sorts of places and engages in eating contests. Every guy I know is thinking, why don't I have this job?  It's right up there with the guys who test Madden Football for a living.  Recently we watched Adam attempt to take down 15 milkshakes in a half-hour.  Just as I was asking JW, "What happens if he actually get si--"  and all of a sudden the screen read "CENSORED" and when it came back on, he was cradling a bucket.  Oh Adam.  15 shakes is too many.

Recently we watched the Portland and Seattle episodes  of the show - did you know you can get married at Voodoo Donuts?  That's right ladies, step on in, they pull one of those homeless fellows off the street and BLAM, you're married.  There also seem to be a lot of pirates that dine out in Portland.  In Seattle, Adam went to Red Mill Burgers.  World-famous onion rings.  Burgers so good they look like they're dripping burgery goodness right out of your TV screen.   That's bu-R-gery goodness you sickos.   So in JW's travels for work, he was lucky enough to stop at the Red Mill for lunch!  Check it out.  I missed out on this one.  And is that a SHAKE?  Oh I was so jealous!  Aren't you?!

Celebrate Good Times, C'Mon!

Two of my very dear friends got married last weekend.  It was awesome and super fun.  I thought I'd gotten all of my to-do stuff out of the way in time for the wedding, but in the week before, I found myself a guest-zilla - slightly freaking out, having tried two dresses that just didn't work, waiting for (and pinning all of my hopes on) the third dress and an extremely last minute hair cut and color that I lucked into scheduling (yes, the hair gods were smiling on me).  Oh yeah and I should also note here that due to an unfortunate purse-unloading-while-looking-for-keys incident after the bachelorette party, I drove home with a bright pink vibrator wedged between my license plate and trailer hitch.  That's another story for another time - I'm just thankful I didn't get pulled over for a license obstruction.  The wedding was on Saturday - on Friday I got sick. Pretty darn sick, in fact, but I was NOT about to let that show at the wedding 'cause I was WEARIN' that dress!  I did have pockets - and should have had kleenex in one and a flask in the other - just to keep from drawing any attention my way during the ceremony due to an inopportune coughing fit.  JW says that I got sick in protest to yet another couple marrying who've been dating for a shorter time than he and I.  Mmmm, perhaps.  Well it's either get sick or hold my breath, and quite frankly, I'm just getting too old to hold my breath that long.  ZING! Anyhoo, it was a beautiful wedding - but there was one thing in particular that really hit home. From my seat, I could see my girlfriend's face while she recited her vows to her hubby-in-the-making, and the way she looked at him... it just broke your heart.  In a good way.  I felt like a fly on the wall of an incredibly private moment - it was as if those two were the only ones in the room.  That they let us all in to share that moment with them... it was a beautiful thing to bear witness to.  I can scarce describe it and still do it justice.  It was just... love.  Pure and unadulterated love.  And it was really, really amazing.  Shouldn't we all be so lucky.  

And as a special note, JW actually danced with me!  He wanted me to tell you all, gentle readers, that he asked me to dance SEVERAL times, and I didn't ask him to dance.   So let the record show, that's how it went.  He also took some very sweet pictures with me, which was only a little out of character.  We had a grand time.  

Very agreeable. Downright Zombierific.

HOW on EARTH had I not yet heard about this??? 

With quotes like this one...

"Have your ninjas left you?"
"We never had any ninjas."
"No ninjas! How was that possible? Five daughters brought up at home without any ninjas! I never heard of such a thing. Your mother must have been quite a slave to your safety."
Elizabeth could hardly help smiling as she assured her that had not been the case. (126) 

...how can I not buy this book, I ask you?  The simple answer is, I can't.  I just bought a copy at Powells, damnit.

Martha Stewart, eat your heart out.

So I just returned from what was a most wonderful Thanksgiving trip home - Texas-home, that is.  Mom and I got to hang out and do our thing - which is really a lot of nothing - and is our absolute favorite thing to do.  We hung out, chatted, watched movies and BAKED.  Last year it was occasion for Penuchi Fudge Cake and cabbage buns.  This year we baked sugar cookies and made peanut butter balls!  In fact I'm eating some right now.  Mmmmm, balls.   

But check this out - I get a little ... nutty when it comes to my Christmas cookies.  See for yourself.

   

OH and I caught up on some jewelry work before my show coming up...

I got to have my fill of Christmas goodies and then run it all off on Thanksgiving morning during the 41st annual (2nd annual for me) Dallas YMCA Turkey Trot.  In short - or LONG I suppose I should say - damn eight miles - it was... oh fine, it was fun.  But my brother and niece are now marathon runners so a mere eight miles barely phased them.  It phased the hell outta me.  But the good news was I got home in time to watch a lot of really, really bad football.  Hm.  Okay all in all that sounds bad - but if you need a summary of how much fun I had, that smiling countenance below pretty much sums it up. My momma.  She's awesome.  I'm lucky.

Berry good.

I couldn't not post a picture of the berries I got today from the Farmers Market ...  adding the FM to the list of reasons I'm glad I live in Portland.

A little catsup. Ketchup. Catch up.

I did let my birthday go by with nary a mention on this blog – shame on me!  Because the night of my birthday was the night of the Eddie Izzard performance, which was brilliant, and hilarious, and the great, epic giggle-fest of a show I expected, and JW had a great time as well, which meant a lot to me.  We capped off the night with the best grilled cheese sandwiches I’ve ever had, and beer, and got to sleep in the next morning.  A great way to spend a birthday.  We camped the weekend before (see this post) and gamboled around ...

Fort Stevens

and the Peter Iredale ...

 

 

And this strangely phallic Lewis & Clark monument...

 

And so on the 14th I turned 31, entering into my 32nd year of life, as my dear friends are so eager to point out ... at least my older friends, I should mention.  I received oodles of books, gift certificates for more, and I get to go spend some moolah at Victorias Secret and perchance might find a bra that isn't coming apart at the seams.  Seriously if you've ever watched a Victorias Secret commercial, you know that we girls go about clad in only bra and panties while we do things like ... lounge on the porch, ride horses, vaccuum (wait I've never seen a Victorias Secret model vaccuum - so scratch that last one) go to broadway shows, ski ... so really it shouldn't be any wonder that our underoos wear out so fast.  Also, making its appearance in a very sneaky ring box (hardy har har) was a key to my boyfriend's house on a Seahawks keychain.  Very sweet, and I think every boyfriend out there should get to play the ring-box trick, but, and this is important, only once.  I definitely didn't have the wrong idea - really more confusion than anything else - but I think that was a big step for him, so I'm not looking the gift key in the mouth.  It was great.  My birthday starts off a string of 31-turners in my group of friends, and I'm realizing now how much of a shift it's been since I used to be the baby of the group.  Hell, I may still be the baby of the group, it's just that now I'm no longer the youngest.  Har.

Bacchanalian Propensities (aka Motorcycle Campout!)

Over Memorial Day weekend, I was delighted to be invited along on a motorcycle campout in Fossil, Oregon (pop. 470) - an event sponsored by ABATE of Oregon.  We had friends waffling - lamenting the weather - which admittedly was not ideal for a long motorcycle trip - but finally when it came down to it, everyone was on board.  'Cept the ones who bought a couch instead.  And some late-comers too - one of my friends may or may not have had to do photo shoot in a speedo.  What?  I have a diverse set of friends.  So we gathered at JW's house on Friday to pack up the vehicle that was going along - he said, "Ten bucks says we're waiting on you!"  I should have taken that bet.  Something happens to men when there's too many of them trying to accomplish a single task... ask yourself, how many men does it take to pack a truck and change a tire, and then leave the door standing open all weekend?  I counted approximately seven, but that also takes into consideration how many it takes to supervise, how many it takes to smoke a cigarette, and how many it takes to drink beer.  Regardless of the morning dragging on, they are all fantastic company and it makes even the most tedious of tasks a good time.  Kind of like how a spoonfull of sugar helps the medicine go down.  The guys are a spoonfull of sugar.  Hahaha...

Anyhoo, we started out in Portland on I-84 (managed to lose one of the group before we even turned off Holgate) and on to Hood River, the Dalles and Biggs.  Then Highway 97 West to Wasco, Highway 206 to Condon, and Highway 19 to Fossil.  Now even a lot of people who've lived in Oregon forever look at me cross-ways when I say Fossil.  It's a neat town - very small, and smells like cows.  Beautiful ride though - despite having to wear four layers of pants (which I was grateful for even though I looked like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man) it was incredible.  In addition to the fact that I love ridin' bitch, (that's a motorcycle term - NOT a lesbian term, although I do see how the two could be interchangeable), the countryside was absolutely amazing.  And there's just no better way to see it. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When we got to camp, Josh made short order of backing the truck straight into the creek running through our camp site.  Now ask yourself, how many men does it take to unfuck this situation??  The picture is deciving - it took way more than three.  But it sure made for a lot of really great jokes all weekend.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This was my first trip to Fossil, but the general consensus was that it had been better in years prior - more vendors, better music.  We literally had one food vendor there - that made terrific fried egg sandwhiches, but it left a lot to be desired.  There was a coffee stand though, and let me tell you, no matter how nature-girl I can get, if I can be out in the middle of the deep dark woods and can still get an HM Latte (that's a "high maintenance" latte according to JW) then I am a happy camper indeed.  Check out my breakfast of champions: Pepto, Vodka, Grapefruit juice.  I think that covers all the food groups, right?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But what a great weekend.  We stayed relatively dry - JW is the wiley veteran of tarp and bungees - he even built a tarp "closet" to match our tent.  We were in stumbling distance of a porta-john (although at 4 AM without your contacts in, stumbling distance sure seems like a long ways away).  And when you've got four people there with the same tent, all in a row, without your contacts, you have to be super careful to remember to go back to the right one.  Is my boyfriend in here?  Check. 

While we were there we did take the bikes out for a brief look at the actual fossil beds, but the day had gotten super warm, and we were out of place hiking in all our gear.  But the road out there was all sorts of twists and turns, and the Triumph seems to live for roads like that.  I can't wait to see what it's all like from the front of the bike! 

The way home (the scenic route, if you will) was Fossil to 218 South to Shaniko, 97 North to Grass Valley, and some no-name highway to the Falls/Tygh Valley, 197 to 216 over Mount Hood to 26, to Boring to 212, to Foster road, back home.  Seems like a convoluted route - and seeing everything as a passenger, I couldn't tell you exactly how that goes.  Or I could - it goes fast.  Can't wait 'till the next one.

 

 

Going to run out of cake at this rate.

For you Izzard fans... from Pop Culture for People in Cubicles.  Yes, I am people in cubicles.

If everybody had a surfboard...

... and a shotgun too...

So about surfing. The boys, they know what they're doing.  I didn't - but you can't tell from this photo, can you??

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But fortunately this random beach dog was ready for me to go under so he could save me...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I headed out to the coast (yes, the Oregon coast) with my favorite guy and my favorite guy friend, that, plus a borrowed wetsuit, and got to attempt surfing for the first time ever.  If you've read my blog before, you might know that not only do I harbor a fear of zombies, but I also have an extreme aversion to ever being eaten by a great white shark.  That, and drowning - it's definitely up there on the list.  So for those of you out there who have that fear, I recommend ignoring it, squashing it, or getting completely loaded to the point where you forget, momentarily, that you have it... no wait - scratch that last one, it will probably lead to the drowning... basically just get over it, because you don't want to miss out on this experience.  JW is a great surfer, and a great teacher, and thanks to him being willing to get pummled in the face by waves for the better part of an hour, I got to surf!  (He's also the best photographer out of the three of us, so we have no pics of him actually surfing - sorry J)  Or more appropriately I got to flop around on Nate's new surfboard for awhile, while inhaling an extreme amount of salt water, and praying my contact lenses didn't go floating away. 

By the end of the day we were sunburned, hungry and beat to hell, but really happy.  If I'd been blindfolded the whole way to the beach, I'd think I'd been dropped off in the middle of California somewhere.  But then again, did I mention I'm very easy to confuse?