Wings

David tells me this story yesterday...

Davs, a manager, and a few of Davs' co-workers are all sitting around talking about buying meat in bulk at Costco. I'm pretty sure it was a mostly male crowd.

The roles are played by those as follows...

David - David

Co-workers - Co-workers

Manager - we'll call him Wingman

David: It's it crazy how the most expensive cuts of meat, specifically chicken, are those that were discarded with no thought just a few years back. Like, wings, for instance. It wasn't that long ago that everybody just threw away the wings because they were so small. Until that restaurant turned them into buffalo wings and now they're one of the most expensive parts of a chicken.

Co-workers, in unison: Yeah yeah...that is weird. Crazy how that happened, huh? Now wings are like $.50 apiece.

Wingman, in the background, quietly taking the conversation in: How do they make the wings so small?

*****crickets*****

Co-workers and David: Uhm...what do you mean?

Wingman: Well, the wings...they're so small...smaller than the rest of the chicken. How do they get them so small?

David: Well, the wings are always that small. It's the muscle part. The majority of a wing is feathers...you don't eat those.

Co-workers: Hear, hear!

Wingman: No, that's not right. Like, if you get a bucket of chicken at KFC, the wing is really big.

David: Well, that's the wing section. It's got extra pieces and parts from the breast and some cartilage and all. An actual buffalo wing is just the muscle part of the chicken. They're always that small.

Wingman: No. That can't be. They have to be like, from baby chickens. Otherwise, why would they be that small?

David: Well...I–

Wingman: It's children. It's chicken children. Right? That's why they're so small, right?

David and Co-workers: Sigh.

Noah, the Graduate

This past weekend, we drove 5 hours to see little baby brother Noah graduate. The trip there itself was an adventure, seeing as how the girls don't absolutely love being in the car. We've realized their limit is about 3.5 hours...the time it takes to get to mine or David's parents' houses. Those 3.5 hours are totally fine. No problems at all. About a minute past 3.5 hours and they are DONE. And by done, I mean, by the time we got to the hotel and up to the room and unpacked, Harper berated us intensely for about an hour, Piper Lee just sat there in a daze, they drank their supper and went to bed, only to wake up every hour. Same for the next night. It was a slightly exhausting weekend. Because with two, you're both always having to do something...you never get to trade off. We had to stop a few times to give them a break and let them stretch out. Sometimes I would squeeze in the back between their seats and feed them or play with them. We've decided never to take them on a road trip again...ever. Somebody's going to have to invent or develop the mutant ability to teleport. But for two almost five-month olds, they did pretty good. I don't like car trips either, so maybe they get that from me.

Graduation wasn't until Saturday night, so, Saturday morning, me, David, Bryan, Sara and Dad went to help Noah move out of his apartment. During Noah's four years at college, he survived countless papers, numerous exams, crazy freshman antics, and an F4 tornado that destroyed the entire campus, but didn't take a single life. Noah and his roommates were able to make it to a shelter right before their dorm collapsed. The university immediately started building new dorms and Noah stayed in an apartment with two of his friends and they decided to stay there. The campus is all back to normal now, complete with new dorms.

It only took about two hours to move him out...mainly because me and my muscles were helping. Look at the size of that box!

I have no idea.

David and I had this TV cabinet when we first got married...we built it ourselves...and then apparently painted this on the back. It's a true statement. We threw it in the dumpster bc it's a piece of junk now.

When we got back to the hotel, we all went swimming with the twins. Their first swim! They loved it!! (Pay no attention to the lackluster expressions on their faces.)

Graduation was at 6 p.m....outside...on the surface of the sun. I love Noah's school, I really do. I'm hoping maybe the girls will go there (of course, I will let them pick where they want to go)...but who has graduation at 6 p.m., outside?! Honestly. They were expecting about 6,000 people and yep, about 6,000 showed up.

We got there two hours early to make sure we got seats. They said last year people were standing. I ain't standing. So, we got there early. We grabbed some chairs, headed for the nearest shade and parked it there. A great place. Until the three stooges showed up at 5:55 p.m. and put their chairs RIGHT in front of us. The shade is free and belongs to all. But you're really going to put your chair two inches from my knees and expect me to be okay with it? And they yapped the whole time and made fun of the alma mater.

I yapped loud enough for them to hear and made fun of this one's hair.

The twins handled graduation quite nicely. But since their bedtime is 7 p.m. and no one messes with their bedtime (and that's not me saying that, that's them saying that), David and I had to leave right after Noah got his diploma.

Little Noah graduated! Top ten percent of his class. So many honors cords that his neck was hurting by the end of it. Top honors in the history department (his major). Summa cum laude (on a 95-100 grading scale...whaaaaat?). Can you tell I'm a proud sister? He'll be headed to Ole Miss in the Fall for his masters and doctorate. Yay!

I get to proofread more papers. Yay.

It's like...freakishly tall Harry Potter.

The only person that couldn't come was Peter. He had to work. Stupid work. He's going on a two-week trip out West with my Mom and grandparents, so he's having to work almost every weekend. But he's proud of you, too, Noah!

The twins decided to give Uncle Noah some moolah for his graduation present. They wrapped it themselves.

(Don't worry, it was cocoa powder and water.)

Some other goings-on of the twins this month.

You wanted some? I'm sorry...well, here...there's a little left.......No?

Camera's too close!

I not tellin her no ghost stories. It's cool.

A present for you, Mommajoe.

Poor David

Lost.

(no spoilers)

LOST IS OVERRR-RR-RRRR AHHH OVERRRRRRR...sob sob sob.

I feel so...empty...

and...lost....

(ha, see what I did there.)

All those times I said, "Gyah, I wish this show would END ALREADY. I gotta know what's going on!!" I TAKE IT BACK!! I TAKE IT ALL BACK!!

I know y'all probably think, "Geez, she has no life." or "Ruthie, it's just a TV show." But six years is a long time.

Six years...every week, waiting for that soothing, yet mystery-filled voice to say "Previously on Lost..." (except for the pilot episode when it just came on and was like EYEBALL action adventure intense drama what in the world is going on!!)

Six years...every week, discussing with co-worker in the kitchen, pondering the previous night's episode, offering new theories...or emailing when I started working from home..."Did you know he was that? Where did she come from? Is he from the plane or is he an Other? Is that real?" Major questions that we laugh at now because they weren't that big of a deal in the end.

Six years...trying to figure out what the mess was going on. And then it all ended last night.

You grow attached to these people. You're sympathetic towards their plight...their struggles and victories. And it really is just a TV show that someone thought of. The greatest TV show ever...to me anyways. Never has there been a story that was more infuriating, frustrating or fabulous. It's like when you read an awesome book or trilogy and it ends, you're like, "I'm gonna miss these people." You've invested a lot of time and interest into it and then it's gone and it's kind of a bummer. So, even though I should have gone to bed at 8pm last night (it was a looooooooooong weekend), I stayed up to watch my favorite show end...for all eternity. BAAAHHHHH................I'll be fine...really.

I didn't grow up watching TV. We didn't have cable, just movies. Which I'm fine with. There didn't seem to be much on in the 80's anyway. In college, my roommate my sophomore and junior years, Cassie, loved Cheers, so I would watch that with her while we were doing homework or whatever. And we also watched Friends, until that ended. I was an RA my senior year and had a room to myself (AWESOME) and I never watched TV because I didn't have time. When David and I got married, we had 8-5 jobs and that was it...which meant loads of free time. Ah, those were simpler times. That's the year Lost started and we had seen previews and decided to give it a try. We fell in love with it from the first 5 minutes. David had to stop watching it in the second season because that's when he started his CPA stuff and he didn't have time anymore. And when he did have time again, he was so far behind, he just decided to wait until it was over and go back and watch it from the beginning. So, I've finished it. But now we're gonna go back and Netflix the whole series. There are so many things I don't even remember from the first season...the hatch...geez. Remember when all we had to worry about was the hatch? Good times.

So, last night when those slightly-antiqued white letters spelling out L-O-S-T popped up on the screen, sans BOOM...I kind of just sat on the couch and sighed. It wasn't the ending I was expecting, but it was a good ending and I'm satisfied with it. And no, if you haven't seen the show or the final episode, they did not answer all of the questions. We just had to accept some things as they were.

I only wish there had been a musical episode.

Now back to life. I'll tell you all about our weekend road trip later this week (once I get pictures from Sara).

Green vs. Blue & Red

Y'all know I keep pretty quiet about my opinions. Ha. Well, that's not true. But I generally try to steer away from controversial issues because I hate wasting time trying to debate something with somebody. I'm always right, but I don't want to spend the time attempting to show them the err of their ways. There are more important things on which I'd rather waste my time. And plus, I get tired of being right all the time. Where is the fun in that. But when something comes up that really has no sense making its way into people's minds, I feel it's my responsibility as an American citizen to say something.

So, last night when David told me he had gotten into a debate with someone (you know who you are) about who would win in an ultimate showdown...The Hulk or Superman...I couldn't keep my mouth shut on the matter (or most matters, but that's beside the point).

Uh, duh, Superman would win. It's common sense. Superman is an alien from another planet. His powers on Earth are unlimited. If you take Kryptonite out of the equation, he's unstoppable. That's been proven time and time again. Sure the Hulk's powers are technically unlimited as well–because his powers are fueled by his incredible rage, which knows no bounds–but in the end, the Hulk is still human. He was a weakling human who was the victim of a scientific experiment gone awry. But still human...with feelings. If the Hulk can love a woman at the peak of his anger, then he has a weakness that Superman doesn't. His powers can diminish. Superman can be mad, happy, asleep and his powers are still there and still just as strong. And who's to say that the Hulk's mutated DNA won't mutate further into something that cripples him or gosh, reverses completely.

The Hulk can jump really high, sure. But so can kids on trampolines and I don't see them posing a threat anytime soon. Superman can fly.

The Hulk's clothes are always torn and ragged or he's naked. Sure, he can't help it, but Superman takes the time to fix his hair and present himself in a professional, hero fashion.

Superman stands for truth, justice, and the American way. Hulk is green. Wooooo scary. And he's angry all the time. What kind of role model is that.

If sweet little Liv Tyler can tame the Hulk, I'm pretty sure that Superman could take him in a fist fight.

Whew...I feel better. I had to get that off my chest. Sorry for my rant.

It had to be said.

In other news, I finally gave in and set out food and water for the stray cat that sleeps on the back patio. So pitiful. Blue has no interest in being friends with it, but it's so sweet. I don't pet it, but it's very friendly. I've named it Joaquin Phoenix, because I feel sorry for it.

Mrrrreoww...

Cupcakes, Surprise Party and Bebes

Last week, since Mom was here helping me, I was able to make some cuppacakes...mmmm cuppacakes. Malinda makes the best Tiramisu cupcakes and she gave me her secret recipe, which I will take to my grave, but I didn't have the ingredients and I knew I wouldn't be able to finish them in time, so I had to stick with my Googled recipe.

The filling was basically butter and cream cheese and whipped cream and vanilla (I just dumped looooads in) and confectioner's sugar and happiness. I had a lot left over, so I'm making chocolate chip cookies and using the filling as, well, filling, and making cookie sandwiches. I'm very resourceful. Also, I'm just eating it straight out of the bowl with a spoon every time I walk by the fridge, so we'll see how much is left for the cookies.

The icing was super tasty. Cream cheesey and buttery goodness and some other stuff like love and contentment. I was supposed to add Kahlua to the icing, but David couldn't find it at the store. And what else am I'm gonna use Kahlua for, so it was no big deal. I just threw in some of Mom's Bailey's-flavored coffee creamer. There was no icing left over because Mom, the twins and I licked the bowl.

The cake was a white cake mix and I wanted it more coffee-ish, so I replaced the water portion of the mix with coffee and mixed all of that together. Yuuuum. Coffee and cake. (I don't drink coffee, but it smells divine.)

They baked up to a nice cupcakiness in the pretty foil...cupcake holders? What are they called?

Then, Mom helped me by brushing some leftover coffee on top of each cupcake. And I injected the filling into each one.

They were iced...

And then sprinkled with some chocolate shavings.

They turned out pretty good. I was really proud of myself. What did I make them for.....

Sister Sara's Surprise 30th Birthday Party Extravaganza!

Sara is turning the big 3-0 on May 26 and being the world's best sister that I am (along with the world's best roommate, Lauren). I decided we needed a fabulous party to celebrate.

Mamaw and Papaw G and Poppadoc were able to come and celebrate with us. (And they decided they couldn't wait until next weekend at Noah's graduation to see the girls.)

El partay...

SURPRISE!

Sara's roommate, Lauren...so presh.

Harper says...I HATE PARTIES!

Virginia Kate was worried about the baby and came and patted her head and held her hand. Melt my heart.

And then VK let the baby (I don't know which one this is) hold her little pig. So sweet.

Sara's cake...made by Malinda Kay at the Atomic Cakery...ADORABLE. I don't have a great picture of it because the lighting was horrible in the restaurant. Flashes...blegh. But here it is! It's Sara and Clementine! Look at Sara's highlights! And she's got on Tevas. It says "Happy Birthday" in Burmese on the front. (Sara's done a lot of mission work in Burma.)
She's got her guitar. And Tom's off to the left. The Tom's were my favorite part. They looked JUST like the shoes. So cute. Behind her is a pig's foot that has stitches. Sara is a nurse practitioner and practices sutures on pig's feet. Yep. And she has a stethoscope and nurse's symbol.
Yay for 30!! Malinda, that was the cutest cake ever.

Later that day, Piper Lee taught Mom how to crochet.

That's right...loop...then pull...yep...

Okay. Good. Nice and tight. Doing good.

Wait. How many rows have you done? Wait....oh, geez.

Here, no. That's not right. Here, give it to me.

Let me gather everything together in my lap here...

Okay, let's get this needle goin'...

Alright. This is just like I showed you. Take your needle and wiggle it...

Grab some yarn from anywhere and push your needle up into it.

Fold the excess yarn over the needle...

Pull through...

Pull even harder. Some of your rows may come loose, but that's okay. It's all part of the learning process. Actually, you may have to start all over again. Depends on how bad you are at this. I'm pretty amazing...so....

Alright. Let's try this again. Step one...

I don't want no kisses, Aunt Moo.

Seriously. No kisses.

No kisses!

NO KISSES!!!!!!!!!!!!

What's that, you say?

Meh.