Pie Reaches 9 On ScottScale, Baker Is Willing To Stop There

Yep, that’s right folks, my key lime pie is THIIIIIS close to Absolute Perfection. Scott tried to give me an 8.5 or 8.75, but I wasn’t giving in to that. He acquiesced to a 9 when I insisted (pouted). I agree with him that the texture is keeping it from being a perfect 10, but the flavah… I haz it. The ultimate compliment: Scott said that, were this to be served in a restaurant, the menu should have a disclaimer. And also, that it should be served with a glass of water. At which point I fetched him a glass of water, consummate hostess that I am. Damn! I should have been wearing one of my aprons!

Scott, to his credit, brought over, prepared, and grilled dinnerstuffs in exchange for Pie Heaven. Also, he brought me a new, full propane tank for the CharBroil. Because, did I mention? I ran out of propane while friends were over to grill on Saturday. Consummate hostess that I am (/me rolls eyes). Humorous note: The song playing on my stereo when the complete lack of flame was noticed was Outta Gas by the Honeybees. Hardy har har, Powers Who Be.

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time for fresh ink

I have a tattoo. One, measly, “baby’s first” tattoo. Yes, I realize that it’s one more than a lot of people have, but me… I’d wanted ink since I was in my early teens. The catch was waiting to turn 18… and then trying to find something that I could live with FOREVER. The design on my ankle, drawn for me by my sister on the very day I was born, could not be more perfect. My BFITWWW, Mandy, had her ankle inked on the same day, and we considered it a sort of rite of passage into “well, I guess this is as adult as we’re gonna get.”

That was nearly seven years ago.

I am aching for more. And this time, after having experienced the same surgical laser procedure that is used to remove tattoos, I can say that coming up with something I can live with forever is definitely at the forefront of the design process. I’d been tossing around some ideas more and more vocally, when Erin suggested that we get inked together, before she moves to OKC, to commemorate our time together. Which is a lovely idea… but she leaves in July. Now, I have a deadline. I keep coming up with ideas, but nothing seems as solid as the drawing that my sister did. One concept has been rolling around for a year, refusing to die, but I haven’t hammered it out yet…

After spending the past weekend in Las Vegas with a fabulously decorated RAB crowd, I’m trying to get myself to ease up a little. Whatever I get, will be a record of whatever I was feeling in that moment. I might even break my “nothing on my back, where I can’t see it” rule because that one idea I have in mind would look best across my shoulders or as an upper chest piece, and if it isn’t absolutely, inhumanly perfect… frankly, I’d rather not be able to see it.

So, I’m hoping to talk to an artist in person this week, and float a few concepts past him. He’s the guy with the gun, so I’m sure he’ll have some wisdom to impart. And if he comes across as a twit, well, then I keep looking.

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Nom de Vivre

Here on this side of the screen, I go by Tiddleywink (or AmpersandRanch), but in RL, my name, and accompanying business email address, begins with a G. It’s also pronounced like a G, not a J, although that shouldn’t have any bearing on the rest of this tale…

A particular project at work involved my sending electronic files, via email, to a manager who then forwarded them to her print vendor. Easy-peasy; done before I left town. While I was out of the office, the vendor sent me a direct message, to my correct email address, but WITHIN the email, spelled my name with a J. Twice. The manager, who had been CC’d, replied and politely corrected the vendor’s error… which the vendor persisted in making in the continuing email dialogue.

Now, I’m accustomed to people misHEARing my name, but this is a whole new experience. A person who has only ever SEEN my name, neatly typed, is still misspelling it?

I have a very low tolerance for “dense.”

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Overheard from my big mouth

On Tuesday night, I went over to my friend Scott’s place for dinner. He cooked a nice meal, I brought some not-bad beer, and when we were done, he turned on his giant TV so I could watch the baseball game.

But the digital cable was out.

So Scott called Comcast, and the tech support gal walked him through a few troubleshooting steps… at one point, Scott asked if she could hang on because he needed two hands to fiddle with some wiring. He hit a button on his phone, set it down on the floor between us, and as he was crawling under the TV, asked me if I’d colored my hair…

“Yes, actually.”

“It’s more extreme. It looks good.

“Thanks. It had better look good… it cost me (undisclosed) fucking dollars.”

(momentary pause, then me again) “I sure hope this nice, helpful lady is on mute, and didn’t have to hear me cussing.”

“Actually, she’s on speaker-phone.”

” … ” (Mind reels. Wait, this is Scott. He deadpanned it, so of course, he’s kidding.)

(Scott, a little louder) “Ma’am, are you still there?”

(disembodied laugh emanates from the cell phone sitting on the floor) “Yes, I’m right here. And it’s okay, I’ve heard worse.”

Dying. Just dying. Ma’am, I am so very sorry. I do occasionally pepper my language with such coarseness, but not usually in front of strangers… or while sober. Thank you for handling it with grace. Also, could you tell me where to buy some? Clearly, I’m all out.

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Viva Las Vegas photos

Okay, I decided to skip any planned retouching. These photos are therefore burdened with the occasional lightpost that I couldn’t crop out of the frame, unfortunately distracting reflections, etc.

A little background: We flew in late Wednesday night, and tho’ we planned to have at least one drink at the bar before retiring, the wait at baggage claim and the line to check in at the Orleans pretty much took us to our 3am goal. The rest of the weekend was mostly a blur of drinking, music, shopping, camera lenses, laughing (lots of laughing), and meeting a boatload of hep people. Hats off to Fort Collins Elvis, Linda and Priscilla, Young Jason, Jesse and his friends Nate and… um… their other friend, Jonny “Velvet Elvis” Barber, John and Diesel, and… uh… everybody else who took the time to introduce themselves and make for a grand ol’ time. I hope to see you next year, if I don’t see you sooner!

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