Dear Mr./Ms. Anonymous Commenter

Yea, you. The one who made a comment and asked a question, but didn't want me to post it.

I'm not sure just exactly how you expected me to answer you. You didn't want me to post the comment, thereby affording me the opportunity of acutally doing something radical. Like responding to it. And you left no link, name or email address.

I'm not psychic, honey. Otherwise, I'd just think...really hard...about the answer to your question...and POOF! You'd get the message.

I'm assuming that you know me and the people you mentioned, though that's not exactly clear, either.

I do have an email link over there in my sidebar somewhere. You could have emailed me, thereby saving me from writing this convoluted, puzzling post that only you and I will understand. And I'm not even sure about I...uh....me.

Aaaanywho, I'll attempt to answer your question. First off, though, one of the people you mentioned...and I'll try to do this without mentioning any names... isn't the person that I think you think it is.

(HAH! Figure THAT one out.)

"B" is a frequent commenter, but she comments using a fake name. So "B" isn't really "B"...the "B" you're thinking of, anyway.
And, as far as I know, none of the three..."J", "M" or "B" (the real one OR the fake one) have blogs of their own.

Hope I cleared that right up for ya.

Almost more cuteness than you can stand

The kids are here for "Christmas". It's the first time El has met Karsin and he was on his best behavior while doing what he does best...supervising. He's been suprisingly docile around the kidlet...didn't really show his psycho side at all last night.


Ziggy's tryin to read the paper...but El prefers kitty porn. Uh. Wait. That didn't
sound right.


The "artiste" at work. 'Course, every artist has a catic...uh...I mean "critic".


Kinda just makes ya wanna go "Awwwwwwwww", doesn't it?


Another "Awwwwwwww" shot. She was tuckered. Jules said she didn't sleep at all on the three hour drive here. Then she was up til late last night "Christmasing". Both of 'em are still asleep. That's good 'cause we've got a big day planned. A little shopping. A little eating. Then a "girly movie night" tonight.

Love havin my girls here.

How will he play in Peoria?

So the scuttlebutt is that Bush is making a visit to Peoria next Tuesday. Gonna visit Caterpillar World Headquarters. Oooooo. I bet all the Cat bigwigs are just poopin themselves with excitement. They've had a big week so far...another gazillion in profits for this past quarter. I hope they enjoy those profits, gawd love 'em. Profits that were made on the backs of all those poor retirees who got shafted by Big Yeller.

Don't get me wrong...I'm all for capitalism...it's what makes this country great. But damn. Right is right. And what Cat did to their retirees just ain't right. And to walk around with those huge erections they get while thinkin about those huge profits makes it all the more obscene.

But I wonder just how Bush will play in Peoria, though? I mean, this is a pretty damn conservative area of the country. We do seem to love our pickup trucks and guns and apple pie and mullets. But I'm thinkin maybe he won't be quite as worshipped as he might've been...oh...say four or five years ago.

I know I won't be goin outa my way to see him....unless someone wants to round up a protest group. Hey...I'm an old hippie that never got to march in a protest. Always wanted to do that, too.

Wonder if I still remember how to flash a peace sign? I'm pretty sure I remember half of it.

(Oh, this is totally off-topic, but anybody ever noticed the dude that works at Kroger in Evergreen Square? I swear ta gawd...he's got a haircut JUST LIKE this photo! Wonder if Moe was his inspiration?)

I'm laughin...

...but not too awful hard. I figure that'll be Ziggy and me in another five years or so. (sigh)

Shamelessly swiped from

Leslie

.

Thoughts and shots...

...from a lazy, snowy Sunday afternoon.


El, the lounge lizard.



And what could be better on a cold, snowy Sunday afternoon than a little taste of the sea? Looosiana-style, spicy, garlicky bah-beque shrimp and a big ole platter of steamed mussels, served up with a loaf of crusty French bread to sop up wit'. Yummmmmmm! I did good.



'Course, the smell of the shrimp and mussels was almost more than El could bear. He spent a good five minutes whispering sweet nothings in Ziggy's ear, beggin for a bite.



Ahhhh. I love these lazy Sunday afternoons.

The next best thing...

...to doing nothing. And gettin paid for it.

I really, really like my job.

You have no idea how completely foreign that statement is to me. How totally amazing it is to me that I can say that.

After being a hospital nurse for X number of years, you could poke me with a fork, honey, cause I was done.

I'd grown so disillusioned with the way nursing and healthcare in general had changed. How it's become so totally and completely about the almighty dollar, despite all the "hearts and flowers/patients come first" bullshit management spouts. I'm here to tell ya...big hospitals really don't give a damn what happens to you...as long as it doesn't reflect badly on them. And as long as the bill gets paid.
I think the hypocrisy is what disgusted me the most.

Don't get me wrong...there are lots of truly caring doctors and nurses out there. But they're slowly getting hamstrung by management. There are waaaaay too many chiefs and not nearly enough Indians.

And don't get me wrong about this, either...I know that a hospital can't run on air. I know it's gotta be run like a business. But it just shouldn't be managed like a factory. They're dealing with people...not Caterpillar parts. And I know, too, that it isn't totally the hospitals' fault. Insurance companies deserve a large part of the blame.

Aaaanyway, it's nice to get an evaluation that says "you're doing great" instead of picking you to pieces. It's nice to have co-workers who aren't trying to step on your head while they climb the management ladder. It's nice to have an hour lunch hour. It's nice to work "normal" hours. It's nice to have every weekend and every holiday off...AND to get paid for those holidays, even if they fall on a day I'm not scheduled to work. Uh huh.

It's nice to actually have some autonomy...to have a little freedom. With a few exceptions, I pretty much set my own schedule and can come and go as my schedule dictates. I'm not tied to a desk or to one floor on a hospital. It's nice that what I do isn't dictated by whether or not it's "cost efficient". What I do now is truly all about the patient. Nothing else.

Of course, there are little irritations. But they're soooo totally bearable compared to the major pain in the ass that hospital nursing can be. And sure...the pay could be better. I could walk into a hospital again and make twice as much as I am now.

But for what I get in return...and for the things I don't hafta deal with...I make a fucking fortune.

I could kick myself for not doing this sooner.

Love it. Love. It.

"Menopause Jewelry"

My husband, being unhappy with my mood swings, bought me a mood ring the other day so he would be able to monitor my moods.

We've discovered that when I'm in a good mood, it turns green. When I'm in a bad mood, it leaves a big fucking red mark on his forehead.

Maybe next time he'll buy me a diamond.

(Via my ole pal,

Cat

.)

I'm so tired, I haven't slept a wink...

I'm so tired, my mind is on the blink
I wonder should I get up and fix myself a drink

No,no,no.

No, it's not a contest to name the artist and album. If you don't know it, ya ain't no friend a mine.

Nah. I don't care if ya know it or not. For some reason, it wormed itself into my little pea-brain on my way home from work tonight. Probably because it was so damn appropriate.

A'hm tard.

It sure ain't because I did a lotta physical labor today. With the exception of a couple hours, all my time was spent on a damn computer, fighting with the clunkiest, slowest, most obstinate, most frustrating, most redundant, downright ignorant computer program that was ever written. I ain't kiddin. I know jack-squat about writing computer programs, but I'm pretty sure I could come up with somethin a little more user friendly.

Ya know the little gif thingy that shows a stick figure bangin his head on his computer keyboard over and over again? That's exactly what I wanted to do.

I'd sure like to know just exactly who came up with the damn thing. I'd kick 'im right square in the balls. Twice.

GAWD! Why is it that messin with crap like that just drains a person? I'd have rather shoveled show all day.

Ok, maybe not.

Six weird things about you...uh....me

Swiped from

Angie

. Because I can't think of a single thing to bitch...uh, I mean blog about.

Six, huh? Limiting it to only six weird things about me might be tough. And I look so "normal", don't I? Whodathunkit?

1. I have trouble saying the word "publicity". For some bizarre reason, I try to stick an extra "L" in after the "P". Plublicity. I have trouble with "strategy", too. Stragety. People who mispronounce words bug the hell outa me.

2. I pick up accents quickly. I lived in Birmingham for just a few months, but when I moved back here, I sounded like I'd been raised there. Took me about a week to lose it, though.

3. I cannot stand for my hands to be dirty. Or my feet. It borders on OCD.

4. In general, I'd much rather watch people than interact with them. I'd loooove to be a PI and could be a hermit with very little encouragement. As long as I had internet access.

5. I have an unreasonable fear of falling, face first, on concrete. (I dunno?)

6. I've always had the feeling that I was born three or four decades too late. I'd have made a great gangster's moll.

But I'm not quoit dead yet...

I am tired, though.

I've been cleaning this weekend. And Ziggy has been...uh...supervising. Hey, that's his job...and he's damned good at it.

Damn. Can't wait til Tuesday when I go back to work...so I can get some rest. heh

It was like a horrific trainwreck...

..but I couldn't keep myself from watching.

Napoleon Dynamite.

It has to be one of the stooooopidest movies I've ever seen. But it was strangely...intriguing. Somehow.

Municipal meanderings

For what's an essentially small town (something like 300,000 in the metro area, I think), Peoria has a pretty good-sized 'blog community'. There are even occasional local 'blogger bashes'...ok, "bash" might be too strong a word. They meet at a neighborhood bar, swill beer and bullshit. My kinda soiree, though I've only been able to attend one...so far.

A few of my favorite locals are listed over there ------------> in my sidebar.
There are many more than that, though. I either haven't gotten around to checking each one out, or just haven't added them to Mr. Blogroll yet. That's one of those rountuit jobs. I'll do it when I get rountuit.

Aaaanyway, this post is mostly about local stuff. I figure you're all gettin damn tired of hearin about my GI tract and all it's foibles.

We're expecting a "possibly major" ice storm here tonight. (Everybody got their storm provisions laid in?) I haven't been out since I came home from work and the store at about 1 pm, but it was just misting rain then...I hear it's starting to freeze now, though. Anyway, at about 10 am, I had to be out a bit for work and I noticed that the salt trucks were already out in full force. 'Course I didn't actually see any of 'em spreading salt. It was misting then, too...and about 45 degrees.

But, boy-howdy...they were visible. Just...drivin around. Being...visable. heh

Anybody ever notice the occasional sportscaster on WEEK? The little, nervous, round, bald guy with glasses? The one that looks like an accountant? Has there ever been a sportscaster that looks less like a sportscaster? Hell, Howard Cosell looked like a total jock compared to this guy. Bad toupee and all.

And is "sportscaster" one word or two? Hmmm...nevermind. I say it's one.

One of our esteemed (ahem) city councilmen says he'd like to create a city-wide ban on smoking in restaurants. I'm not about to rant and rave about it, even though I smoke. I don't have a problem with it, though I do have a problem with government dictating my personal choices. Perfectly LEGAL personal choices, I might add. Don't even give me any horseshit about 'infringing on the rights of others'...my rights are infringed upon every time I hafta listen to meaningless cell phone blather. My personal safety is threatened every time a drunk driver gets behind the wheel of a car. I'm pretty sure that more people have died at the hand of a drunk driver than have been killed by second-hand smoke. But as far as I know, booze is still perfectly legal, too.

Ooops. I said I wasn't gonna rant, didn't I?

Anyway, like I said, I don't have a problem with a smoking ban here in Peoria. There are lotsa other bars and restaurants...in East Peoria, Pekin, Chillicothe, Bartonville, Washington, Morton...etc. ect. We'll drive to one of those places...and hopefully won't be killed by a drunk driver on the way.

Oh...and I wanted to mention

Peoria.com

. Finally! A decent Peoria-related web site. Is it just me and my incredibly sloooooow dial-up service, or are most of the other Peoria portals...well...junk? Slow, clunky, hard to navigate and rarely updated. Kinda like me. heh

On the mend...

...I think.

Good gawd, that was one nasty bug. It hit me late Monday night/early Tuesday morning and here it is, Thursday, and I'm just now starting to feel like I'll live. I've had a couple of times when I thought I was better, only to find myself on a dead run to the bathroom again.

I've really gotten a chance to catch up on my tv viewing while I've been down. Unfortunately.

Jeeeezus...Rosie, you're still obnoxious. Donald, you're still obnoxious. Let's call it a draw, shall we? Who. The. Hell. Cares?

Beckham's coming to America? (Yaaaaawn) Yea. That's just what we need. Another overpaid, useless celebrity and his anorexic, fake-titted wife. Like we don't have enough of them already?

Bush wants to send thousands more to Iraq. Gawd help us all. This is never gonna be over. If it is ever over, it sure as shit won't be because we "won".

There have been a few bright spots in my tv viewing.

"The Shores of Tripoli" - boy, that Maureen O'Hara was a babe...and John Payne? Ooooo...be still my heart!

"The Towering Inferno" - Ok, maybe not exactly film genius, but entertaining...in a campy, nostalgic kinda way.

"Deliverance" - Just how the hell did Ronny Cox get his arm all twisted over his shoulder like that? Must be double-jointed.

Oh, and I caught premiere of "The Soprano's" on A&E last night. It's just not the same without all the profanity, though. A good Mafia show hasta have profanity. It's like...a rule. Luckily, we've got the first five seasons on DVD should I need a little more 'reality'.

And tonight? "Papillion" - great, great movie...which I'm off to watch now.

Congrats, Karsin!

Honor roll, second time in a row!

More tales of woe

You're gettin sick of hearin about it, aren'tcha?

We're payin for not havin black-eyed peas on New Year's Day.

First, it was my toothache and my trip to hell that was called "prompt care". Then the Zigster gets some kinda bug that I was patting myself on the back for avoiding. Then my damn ferret dies. Then I find out that the kids can't come for Christmas until the LAST FRIGGIN WEEKEND IN JANUARY. Hell, by that time, we might as well celebrate Valentine's Day, too. Kill two birds with one stone. I know...we'll call it "Christmastine's".

And now? Well, remember that bug that Ziggy had? Mmmhmmm. It found me last night and kicked my ass. Probably payback for managing to elude it for a week.

Good gawd. Why is it that some kinda nasty gastrointestinal bug always strikes at night? I swear...I don't think I've ever had one that started during the day. Do they only come out at night or what?

In hindsight I know that it actually started yesterday. I just felt bad, but nothing I could put my finger on. But the real fireworks started at about 1 am and continued on until...oh...about 9 this morning. Eight hours of non-stop bathroom fun. Not.

I won't go into the gory details. But trust me...they were gory.

I feel like I've been run over by a truck.

Ooooo...I shouldn't a said that. That'll be the next thing.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio...

...than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

I'm probably gonna come across as some kinda whackjob. Hell, maybe I am...compared to most "normal" people, anyway. And some of you will surely think that I wear a tinfoil hat to bed every night. I don’t. Really. It messes up my hair.

Strangely enough,though, I believe in some things that I've never seen....Bigfoot. The Yeti. The Loch Ness Monster. UFO's.

Ok, maybe “believe” is too strong a word. Maybe it’s more like I believe strongly in the possibility of those things.

On third thought, no…I believe in UFO’s, even though I’ve never seen one.

Oh, the dichotomy isn't lost on me. I claim to be an agnostic with one foot on the banana peel of atheism. I don’t know if I believe in the existence of "God"...the traditionally accepted version of God, anyway...let's just say I'm very dubious. But I believe in the existence of UFO's. You’ve gotta admit…there are a heck of a lot more people who’ve claimed to see a UFO than have claimed to see God. Other than the acid-heads, I mean.

Not that I think that everyone that does acid sees God. I did acid once and I didn’t see God. All I saw were a buncha alarm clocks and fantastically-colored neon lights zig-zagging every which way.

I digress.

I also firmly believe that there are a very few select people that know that UFO's/aliens exist, but for obvious reasons, they're not about to speak the truth. Or maybe they’ve been ordered not to.

Think about it for a minute. Can you begin to imagine the panic that would ensue if the people in the know admitted that UFO's DO exist? Why, it would shake the very foundation of our society…of ALL the societies of the world. The various religions would be scrambling to make excuses...to rationalize. Would they deny it, even if it was right there...staring them in the face? Probably. Would they claim that it was the Devil’s work? Most assuredly, some would.

Would they claim that “God” made the aliens, too? Probably. I mean, I suppose that’s the only thing that they could claim and still maintain some semblance of control, right?

What do deeply religious people think about the possibility of life elsewhere in the universe? Or do they even think about it? Shouldn't it be beyond their ability to accept the two together?

I can see it now. Jerry Falwell trying to baptize Gort. Klaatu barada nikto to you, too, Reverend Falwell.

I dunno. I just think it’s just awfully egocentric of us to believe that we’re the only planet in the entire universe that has intelligent life. Ok, “intelligent“ might be a stretch, too. But you know what I mean. Intelligent as compared to…oh…I dunno….a sea slug, maybe.

There are literally thousands and thousands of acres of land…maybe millions…here on earth where no man has ever set foot. And look at the oceans and seas of the world…we haven’t even explored one percent of their depths. Space? For as much as we think we know about our galaxy, we really know very little. And what we know about other galaxies is…well…essentially nothing.

Sometimes I drive myself crazy thinking about this kinda crap. But ponder this…I don’t think I believe in God. But I do believe in UFO’s. YOU might believe in God, but not UFO’s.

What’s the difference? Neither is a proven, true-blue, no-doubt-about-it FACT. Faith, maybe. Fact? Nope.

Thank you and good night. I need to go find some tinfoil.

How's this for an exciting Saturday night?

We're watching "Brothels of the Old West" on the History Channel. "Horizontal refreshment", as they called it. heh Izzat great or what? Oooo...boy. "Syphilitic chancres". "Peter pans" (a washbasin that they washed...well...you figure it out) A steam powered vibrator called the "Manipulator". Yeeee HAW!

Gawd. I loooove the History Channel. hehehe

No, we didn't get poor little Lizzie interred today. She's still...uh...chillin...amongst the brussel sprouts and chicken wings. To be honest, I had a lot of Christmas shopping to do today. I know. Christmas is over. But not really. Next weekend is the first chance the kids will have to get here, so we're doin Christmas all over again. I can't wait! Hell, I haven't seen either of "The Princesses" for months.

Anywho, while I was out power shoppin, I looked high and low for a damn garden trowel. That's all we'd need, really...to dig the hole. I mean, Lizzie is...uh...was a little, tiny thing. Not much more than a pound. So it's not gonna take much to get a deep enough plot.

But do you think I could find a damn trowel anywhere? Not in any of the stores I was in and certainly not in the middle of January. I guess we'll hafta make a trip to Ace tomorrow...surely they'll have one.

Grau made a comment on my previous post about someone he knew putting her dead pet tarantulas in the freezer. Of course, that sparked the following conversation.

Me: I'm sorry, but I don't know how anyone could consider a tarantula a "pet". That's like those icky millipedes. A pet is something you can...pet. A pet has a personality...and usually a face. I ain't pettin no millipede.

Ziggy: Yea. Or like...iguanas.

Me: Yea, but I've known an iguana that was sort of a nice feller. He liked having his chin scratched. Or he acted like he liked it anyway.

Ziggy: Or like...fish. Fish aren't pets. They're.....

Me: Decoration?

Ziggy: Yea. Like...art.

See what our conversations are like?

RIP Elizabeth Ferret Browning

I talked a little bit about Lizzie being very ill in the previous post. I'd no sooner hit the "publish" button when I noticed that she seemed agitated. I pulled her out of her cage, sat down in the middle of the kitchen floor and held her in my lap. She settled down a bit, let out a tiny "Yip!"...and she was gone. Just like that.

As I sat there, tears streaming down my face, El came walking up. Now, he normally gets all excited when Lizzie is out of her cage...it means play time...and he'll jump on her, even if she's in my lap. This time, he walked up, sat down, looked at her and put one paw out. I started to push him away, thinking that he was gonna start roughing her up...like he usually does. He slithered around me and put one paw gently on her little head and looked up at me as if he knew. I suppose animals...even knotheads like him...do know.

It just about tore my heart out. I sat there and held her for a long time and El behaved the whole time. It was amazing.

Then the pragmatic side of me kicked in. I suppose being pragmatic is a good thing to be at times like this. But I often fear that it comes across as cold and uncaring. Trust me...that's not the case. I think...uh...hope that the people that know and love me realize that. I've also found that a sense of humor comes in handy at times like these.

Uh. We live in an apartment. We don't have a yard, let alone a shovel. And I DO wanna give the poor little creature a decent burial...she was a wonderful pet for nearly four years. There's no way in hell I'm gonna throw her in the dumpster like an empty milk carton.

So, just what does one do in a case like this?

You do what any pragmatic person would. You wrap her in a clean dish towel, place her gently in a brand-new, soft-sided, insulated lunch bag, zip it tightly...and put it in the freezer.

Well, dammit. It's about 40 degrees out, so I can't put her out on the patio. I don't have a shovel and even if I did, I don't know where to go to bury her. Even if I did have a shovel, it's dark and it's raining.

Right now, I just don't have it in me to go into a lengthy explanation to the nice police officer who just happens to discover me digging a hole in some city park at 8 o'clock on a rainy Friday night.

So for tonight, our beloved Lizzie will lie in state...in the freezer...amongst the frozen broccoli and chicken wings. She'd understand. She looooved cramming herself into tiny nooks and crannies...and boxes (note the photo) and she hated hot weather.

The Zigster and I will give her a proper burial tomorrow.

Somewhere.

So how's your new year startin off?

Mine's pretty much sucky.

My mom used to say, "It's a gay old life if ya don't weaken."
As a kid, I always wondered exactly what that meant. I've learned it means that no matter what, the world keeps on turning. You can either make the best of it or give up. It means "If it's not one thing, it's another."

A la Emily Latella (Gilda Radner's character on SNL), "It's always something." Did I just date myself?

Ziggy's just getting over the epizootic...or as he's so fond of calling it, "herbladacablitis of the blowhole". (Now THERE'S a diagnosis for ya, Knight..heh)
Actually, he had the stomach flu. Which really isn't a flu, but rather a form of gastroenteritis caused by a rotovirus...or norovirus. There's your medical lesson for the day.

Whatever. It entails a lot of pooping and puking.

Poor guy. We've been together for...uh....about six years now...and this is the first time he's ever been sick. Aaaand, it's the first time I've ever seen him throw up. He hasn't even had a damn cold. He must have one helluva immune system.

Anywho, he's feelin much better. "Svelte", almost, he says. Yea. Two days of diarrhea and vomiting'll do that for ya.

In other news, our beloved ferret Lizzie is very, very ill.

Bless her little ferrety self...the vet says it's heart failure, which ferrets are prone to. I'm trying to keep her comfortable, but all I can really do is hold her...and I've been doing a lot of that. It seems to be what she wants, which is unusual...she was always more of a "screw the lovey-dovey stuff...let's PLAY" kinda ferret. I've accepted that we're gonna lose her...soon. I don't like it, but I've accepted it.
Having El here is some comfort...I do love my pets...but he just doesn't understand that she can't rough and tumble with him anymore.

As for me, well...I'm hangin. The tooth pain is but a memory. Thank gawd for antibiotics. I have a couple more fairly minor medical-type things to take care of and then I'll be on the hunt for a dentist. (sigh) I hope ta gawd I get tuned up...SOON. I'm so sick of running here and running there for this appointment and that appointment. Hell, it's enough to wear a well person down, let alone someone who's really sick.

Ah well. I guess if I'd stop to consider the alternative....

Makes sense to me

This is from a "Letters to the Editor" in an Oregon newspaper and sent to me by a pal.

I have a question, not only for Douglas County, but for the entire state of Oregon. Like a lot of folks in this state, I have a job. I work, they pay me, I pay my taxes and the government distributes my taxes as they see fit. In order for me to get that paycheck, I am required to pass a random urine drug test, which I have no problem with.

What I do have a problem with is the distribution of my taxes to people who DON'T have to pass a urine drug test. Shouldn't one have to pass a random urine drug test to get a welfare check, because I have to pass one to go earn it for them?

Please understand I have nothing against helping people get back on their feet. I do, on the other hand, have a problem with helping someone sit on their butt. Could you imagine how much money the state would save if people had to pass a urine test to get a public assistance check?

Leonard Wilson
Riddle

Now, ya just know that the ACLU would be all over it in a heartbeat if we tried to make welfare recipients take random drug tests to get their monthly check. But I'd like for someone to explain to me why it's ok for individual companies to demand it of their workers. Isn't that like...a violation of our human rights?

I suppose it isn't because of the whole "right to work" thing. A company can essentially demand anything of you (within reason) and you can either comply or quit.

I dunno...maybe we ought to start demanding a little more out of our welfare recipients. For starters, maybe like learning about things like "personal responsibility" and "working for a living".

But I'm sure that'd be some sorta human rights violation too, huh?

The world has sure become a screwy place, hasn't it?

It wasn't exactly the happiest New Years I've ever had...

...as you can probably tell from the slightly pained expression on my face.


Ah well. At least I made it to midnight...and my tooth feels better today.

See the dubious look on Karen's face? I'm sure I had the same expression when the Zigster decided that he'd be the one to pop the cork on the champagne. Luckily, no one was injured during the production of this photo.



And see the big tray of fresh oysters? That was just one of the delicacies that were provided. Unfortunately, I couldn't chomp on much of anything else, so the hosts took pity on me and provided me with my very own tray. YUMMMMM!



'Course, I was only too happy to share with Ziggy. We loves us some fresh oysters, we do.

Hope y'all had a Happy New Year!