The Descent into Madness: Part II

I tend to not keep promises very well. At least that is what all those crying and angry people have told me in the past. Instead of sticking to my word, I make up some excuse as to why I can't complete some inane task that someone has very kindly asked me to do. Of course, don't get me wrong, I keep promises when it is a matter of life or death. Or when it is someone's last dying wish... ["hey kid, promise me that you'll make sure that my wife knows where i buried the queen's jewels... i've seen the light!" que grunting noises that indicate the death of a very old, leathered man]. Alright, so when there is treasure involved in the last dying wish, maybe sometimes I don't keep that promise.

I digress.

I am keeping my promise from yesterday. Here are more pictures from Midnight Madness. This part II chronicles the time spent in a comic book store [nerds!] and the time spent at an art gallery admiring all the art. Also, the art gallery had really tasty things to eat. Like cracker cheese sticks. And cheese. And water. And fancy Christmas cookies. Lovely.

The art gallery pictures are a little bit more sophisticated than the comic book store selection. If you look really hard, you can even see D. using his pinky to drink his... beer! Beer is not classy. I am ashamed.

Although, it does look like he was trying to hand me one of those cracker cheese sticks. All is forgiven, D.!

In closing: here are some outside scenes depicting Annapolis. The snowman one is my favorite.

Until next time.

Stay classy Annapolis!

The Descent into Madness: Part I

Greetings from the blustery city of Annapolis. With temperatures reaching the single digits at night, I think it is highly appropriate to include pictures of a night where I and a few fellow Annapolitans [and one Baltimorian, but that's not important] braved the cold to shop. And when I write shop, what I really mean is go store to store during Midnight Madness and procur the free beverages and desserts.

From one Annapolitan to the world, let me tell you a little something: as long as you can schmoooze with any number of people, you will be set to go. Various stores had free champagne, wine, and faux-sangria [i was moderately upset with that establishment for their false advertisement. it's not sangria if there isn't any wine in the juice!]. One store even had Whipped Lightning! Prepare to be simply amazed and astonished.

What the owner did was take a little chocolate cup half filled with Bailey's Liquor, and then he topped it off with the alcoholic whipped cream. I'm not really sure what kind I was given [and then promptly consumed], but it was delicious and very strong.

 It was a universal hit all around. Although D. was itching to move on to the next stop, an art gallery. There we paid our dues and stared contemplatively at a few local pieces briefly. L. and P. stared longingly at pieces that would look delightful in their new apartment, or so they told the saleswoman.

Let's finish with these few pictures. Just a shot of the gentlemen [and woman] of the night.

The last one is definitely one of favorites of the night.

More to come. Look for Part II tomorrow!

Christmas Cheer

Scenes of Sugar Plums dancing in your head... what does that even mean? What are Sugar Plums, and what gives them the right to take up valuable space in small childrens heads? I googled this archaic image, and what appears is for the most part pretty reliable. Sugared Plums. Fruit of some sort. And then up pops an incredibly sketchy photo of some middle aged, hairy, overweight men dressed in white tutus standing in the freezing cold with snow all around them. I believe they call themselves the Sugar Plum Group.

Let's keep Christmas on the classier side and stick with toy trains that circle minature villages wrapped in cotton fluff snow. That image looks a lot better to me than middle aged men.

Sugared items aren't necessarily off limits, however. I enjoy the occasional seasonal berry garnished with sugar. This one is truly fake though.

Homestead Gardens. Ever heard of it? It is a wonderland of Christmas delight. Not only do they serve apple cider donuts [quite the delish little treat], but they also have rows and rows of pointsettias, Christmas trees, and beautiful decorations. Have you ever seen enough ornaments to cover 5 million Christmas trees? I have. I have.

I want to live there and sleep amongst the Christmas spirit. There is not enough at home [we don't even have our Christmas tree up yet... gasp! okay, on my dresser is a mini one that i gaze at every night though], and the only way I am going to be able to get enough Christmas spirit is to leave the scrooge household. My little sister is insisting on decorating the tree on Christmas Eve so we don't have to leave it up any longer than necessary. She is totally getting coal for Christmas.

Not this girl though. She is far to adorable and loves Christmas.

She even had a cute little session with Santa. All of the items on her gift list are for her PS3, which I am pretty sure she still doesn't really know how to use. It is cute though, trying to be older than she really is. Something that most people never grow out of during their lifetime. Then when they are older they start trying to be younger than their actual age. What this mess leaves you is a sense of unfillment, you are never the right age at the right time.

Here is some random bottles of Olive Oil. Very pretty bottles of Olive Oil. Lurking.

And some not so Christmassy colors. But amazingly vibrant colors all the same.

To finish up this longish post, here is a picture expressing the reaction of Santa's presence when someone is a humbug Christmas Carol style. It is not a pretty facial reaction at all. This does not scream excitement. It alludes to more of a terror filled feeling. Great. She is definitely getting coal.

An Italian Thanksgiving

This does not reflect what exactly my immediate family did on Thanksgiving. This actually reflects quite the opposite. My family didn't smile this much or drink alcohol [curse the ban on alcohol in my parents household!]. Nor did we gorge ourselves on delicious Italian food. This is the pre-Thanksgiving party where me, my sister, and our three friends celebrated our Italian heritage.

Part one was caprese salad with tomatoes, mozzerella, basil, and balsamic vinager. Superb.

A little prosciutto, salami, and provolone came next.

And then some oranges? False. These were just decor.

This was not, however. Mmmm. A short little backstory behind this wine. I went into the liquor store in the back of Rite Aid to pick this up just hours before we drank it. The plan was to get in and get out as soon as possible. Being the uneducated vino connoisseur I am, the sister said to just pick up some red wine that would make a nice sangria. Being the spastic little munchkin that I am, I nearly had a panick attack in the store trying to figure out if merlot, shiraz, or cabernet was the perfect kind. To top it off, my cell phone didn't get reception in the back of the store. I just about had a breakdown in the middle of the Rite Aid wondering what kind of wine to pick up. I was also self-conscious about the fact that I look about twelve years old. It didn't help my psyche at all. Then I found this glorious bottle. It just says red wine. And that looked good to me. No matter that it has socialist undertones on the front. That is probably what drew me to it anyways.

The red wine eventually turned into this pretty little picture. Basically all I am good for at these foodie get togethers is making sangria. It is an essential part of the evening, granted, but also anyone could do it.

The final spread looked something like this. L. made eggplant parmesan, which was eaten swiftly as it was the epitome of tastiness [no matter, that eggplant is not even on my radar for food as it makes me squeamish. everyone else grunted with delight at they shoved it into their open mouths].

J. sure enjoyed the entire meal. She loves eggplant. So we sent the majority of it home with her.

I'm not really sure what this situation was all about. All I know is that it is kind of awkward!

Kidding, it is more hilarious than anything else.

Thanks friends for a lovely Italian Thanksgiving meal!

A Flailing of Sorts

Let's just preface this post with a true statement: My family is terrible at dancing. We mostly just flail our arms, pretend that we are chickens, and do the robot. Honestly, we may look like professionals, but the pictures are truly fooling you. Don't believe anything you see! When people tell you that their style of dance is "interpretive" dancing, they are just saying that they have no idea what the heck they are doing. Believe me now. This is not what you want to see at your wedding reception. So you probably shouldn't invite us.

To start, here is a series of pictures of Little J. She thought that she was Elvis. That's a dangerous concept to deal with. What with all those peanut butter, banana, and bacon sandwiches. Elvis impersonating is not for the faint of heart.

That was hard to look at, I know. I am almost started crying myself when posting them. And they were not happy tears. Here is a little something something to ease your soul...

Awww. So frickin adorable aren't they?

Guess who is older? On second thought, don't. Because obviously it is the girl on the left. Curse these genes!

Intense.

I am being completley real with you right now. Don't invite us to weddings. It is just a terrible no good idea.

I have more pictures, but I think those can wait till another day. Don't worry, they aren't of us flailing our appendages. I won't subject anyone to those again. Also, I ran out of any other good ones.

A Brown and Blue Affair

Right after returning from Phoenix my family attended a wedding for a family friend. In fact, my older brother was in the wedding party. It was probably one of the nicest receptions that I have been to in my wedding days. They had a hors d'oeuvres hour and dinner! Needless to say, I ate way more than I normally would. The food was fantastic though!

What I loved about the reception and wedding was the DIY aspects. The bride made the programs, name cards, and favors. I wish I had a picture to show you the beautiful program, but unfortunately that went into the trash can. Here are a few pictures, however, of the decor.

The cute little gift boxes with kisses inside. The kisses had monogrammed stickers slapped onto them for that personal touch!

The adorable place cards. All done by hand.

The table arrangement. The flowers were really pretty and went perfectly with the blue and brown theme.

We ate, we danced. It was a fun time.

This is my sister looking far older than her fifteen years. I am going to have to lock her up somewhere so that her hair can grow freakishly long. Then she can use said hair for letting people into the tower, but only good looking men that have some royal background. If you're an average joe, there is no way that you are getting into that tower to talk to my sister. Also, you should give it a few years. She is only fifteen for crying out loud!

This, my friends, is the real reason that we go to weddings. For the dancing. I know you want to see more dancing pictures, so stay tuned!