Filed under: Birthday
So much catching up to do. Where to start. Work: good. School: Winter Break= great. I celebrated my birthday a couple of weeks ago with some close family and friends. I had the time of my life
. And the next day, I realized that I have everything a girl could want. Sure the inside of my mini van looks like the bottom of a petri dish. The blue one eyed monster is in need of major repair. The registration expired, one window is hanging on by a shoe string and some duct tape. The oil leaking sack of old wrappers, broken seat belts and several soda spills makes a loud gurgle of indigestion when I first start it. But, I’ve got it good. My kids are healthy and my man is good to me. I may not live to travel the world but I can die happy. I started reading Sherlock Holmes last weekend and I am completely hooked.
I have been eating a lot of Japanese food lately. Perhaps too much. You know how these Sushi places name their sushi rolls what ever the hell they want to make them sound interesting? Such as my local has a “La Mirada Roll.” The restaurant in Santa Maria had a “Slo Kiss Roll” I wonder if Sam Jackson eats “Bad-Ass Mother Fucker” Rolls
I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
New Years Day, to me, means, Noah’s Birthday.
My baby is 9 years old today. I have three boys ages: 11, 10 and 9.
Which means Horchata and I have been home for the last 11 years on New Year’s Eve.
This means some mild booze, some movie rentals, and letting the kids stay up til Midnight. Pretty Mellow.
After I had 3 Stellas
I called brother # 2 and then invited some friend/acquaintances over. Whoops. Did I do that? They didn’t come and I was okay because I really didn’t want entertain a bunch drunk people around the kids. Stella number 4 rendered a call to friend and a confession of searching my blockbuster Queue on New Year’s Eve. Midnight struck, Horchata was snoring as the boys and I watched the Ball Drop on youtube.
Wild and Crazy times, I know.
New Years Day Means
making posole.
This year I have some of the same resolutions like calorie counting and penny pinching.
Getting the house organized.
And, I want to go see the gosh, darn Dali exhibit before it ends.
Filed under: Birthday, bones | Tags: 33, Bahooka, Birthday, fruity drinks
Birthday night at Bahooka was grand. Thank you all who came and for the wondeful gifties. Y’all know what I like. I had three rainbow colored drinks adorned with pineapple triangles and formaldehyde soaked red orbs. After this I could not eat the stuffed shrimp that I had ordered. So we shared a bahooka bowl. My favorite part was when a party of 20 plus next to us would burst out cheering, we felt the need to out do them. Our group of 8 commenced with Screaming, whistling and whooping. And our well seasoned waitress did not grimace a bit. “I just thought my I come over here and check on my kids,” she says.
Did you know a part of Fear and Loathing was filmed there? Pretty Lush
was talking about it in her blog too: Jonesin’ for Gay Hips.
Last night we had the work party. It was actually my first. All of the other places I have worked never had such gatherings of co-workers. It is interesting the hierarchy of the big dogs and the underlings that comes into play, put together under a microscope, injected with alcohol and extra tension. If you know me, you know I was worrying about my red cleavage top spilling forth, wondering if I should hug or hand shake. This accompanied by PMS on high, lets just say I was a tad nervous. They were generous with gifts and welcomed my spouse.
Today I am putting aside my roll as underling.
I am 33. 
Happy Birthday to you. Merry Commerce (as Johanna would say)!
If your not going to see Snoop Dog at the House of Blues,
Stop by and buy me a drink at Bahooka’s in Rosemead.
