Markel Farkel Friday Thanksgiving Edition

Markel Farkel Addendum:

Because so many of you have asked (and by "so many of you" I mean "me"):

Nastia does NOT — I repeat — our new kitten does NOT fit into Markel Farkel's giant beer stein.

You can all relax now and go about your Black Friday.

Oh and a big happy birthday to my brother ... he's old again today.

The day before Thanksgiving

I'm at work, trying not to work because what I really want to be doing to finishing Chelsea Handler's book "Are you there, Vodka? It's me, Chelsea."

When I first started watching Chelsea Lately, I thought the announcer said her name was Chelsea Hamburger. This, to me (and only me, I'm sure), is hilarious for a number of completely wrong reasons that do not need to be written even here on the Internets.

So this year I'm forsaking all the truly wonderful and good things in my life. Instead I'm giving thanks for Chelsea Handler-Hamburger.

What?

You got something better to give thanks for?

Say Hello to my little Nastia

Because kittens make everything seem better, we brought home our little Nastia yesterday.

Well, I guess that's not entirely true in that Nastia did not make the fact that our trip to the distillery for one Bloody Mary yesterday turned into four after which we had to call Sean to come get us and then after I got home I cried over something and then spent the rest of the night puking and pooping.

But at least she was good company.

Kittens are neat.

Markel Farkel Friday

On cake and turning 18 years old

I've been waiting to write this post for a couple of reasons. Mostly because Bill has no sense of humor over that which I'm about to write while I find it hilarious.

I don't really want to piss him off. So in the interest of being fair, I'm asking for you to judge for yourself if I'm being overly picky or he's overly ... uh, ... I'm totally going to get myself into trouble with this post, so let's just get to it, shall we?

Last Friday was my stepson's 18th birthday. Yep Sean's 18.

We were planning to have him over for dinner and give him his gifts Friday after work.

Bill volunteered to go to the store and order a cake for Sean all by himself.

I was suspect, but because I'm so swamped these days, I restrained my OCD-self and let me do it. But not without discussing it first:

Bill: I'm going to order Sean's cake. What should I get on it?

Me: Get him an adult cake. No SpongeBob or anything. He's an adult now.

Bill: Yeah, I'll get him something cool.

Me: Get him something adult ... and normal. He's an adult now.

Bill: I know. I know.

When I got home Friday, I saw the massive cake box on the counter.

Bill had ordered an entire sheet cake. Not a quarter or even a half, an entire sheet.

Good thing I like cake.

Then I opened the box.

Oh man.

Do you see it?

Here's a closer look at the guy on the cake:

Does that look like an 18-year-old kid to you in any way?

Because to me that looks like a middle-aged, beer-bellied, balding guy lying on a couch drinking a beer and holding a remote control.

But I've been accused of picking apart the details of the figurine and that this balding, fat guy is totally appropriate for an 18-year-old kid.

I guess if you want the message on his 18th birthday to be: "It's all down hill from here." It totally works.

Really though, I do have to take some of the blame for the balding, fat man drinking a beer adorning my stepson's cake. I did say to Bill to get Sean an "adult cake" without providing any other specifics, like "appropriate for an 18 year old" or "not sad and defeating."

I mean what really did I expect Bill to get?

Sometimes, I'm really slow.

Are you a woman or do you know a woman who has feet?

If so, click here.

The Haute Mamas are giving away a $100 gift certificate to Miss Marie's Shoes.

$100!

For shoes!

All you have to do is go to Miss Marie's Web page, pick out your favorite shoes and then click back the Haute Mamas and leave a comment.

AND if you're local, you can get a second chance at winning by going to Miss Marie's on Main Street next to the Avalon and you can enter to win there.

That's it to win a $100 gift certificate for shoes.

K. Now go click and comment.

Well, what happens at your dinner parties?

Saturday night, Markel Farkel (of Markel Farkel Friday) and his lovely wife, Special K, invited us and three other couples over for a delicious chile dinner.

MF and Special K know how to cook some food. Whenever we get invited for dinner, we do whatever possible because we know we're going to be treated to some seriously fine cuisine.

I took some pictures Saturday night, so others can see what fine dining among those in our circle looking like:







Yes Randy, Kristen is taller than you.

When I had to put my puffy-headed Persian, Bing, two years Christmas, we decided that two cats were enough for us.

Then promptly went out and brought home Frida.

Now, our Frida Nut-Nut is gone.

Again we decided that two cats are plenty.

So today I went to Animal Control on my lunch hour to see the kittens.

Yes, it makes no sense, but that's how it is with me and pets. I don't make any sense. (OK that's how I am in most things.)

Oh, they have so many lovely cats and kittens. If it were just for me, I'd totally take home one of the older cats as they were all so friendly and beautiful. But we want to get Mar a kitten — kittens are the most delightful creatures.

Living with a kitten tempers the sadness of losing a pet. And we only got the privilege of living with our whacky Frida for two years ... not nearly enough. She was the neatest cat.

Now, we've got to move. Luckily it looks like we'll be doing our "moving on" with one of these faces brightening our day:

No more Nut-Nut

Saturday a woman came to our door and asked if we had a cat with a yellow collar.

A young man was crouched down at the corner of our yard petting our dear Frida Nut-Nut.

He said a white truck hit her. She ran to our yard and collapsed.

And just like that our crazy, evil, curious, delightful kitty was gone.

We miss you, Frida Nut-Nut. Rest in peace.

Markel Farkel Friday

Oh how I look forward to Markel Farkel Friday for oh so many reasons.





And the grand finale is the Bush Shocker:

Benefits are awesome

For no other reason than we have a vision plan as part of our benefits plan at work, I got myself some new specs.

For those of you with fine vision, you miss out on getting to pick out fancy new glasses. But then again, you get to see well all of the time. So I guess it all evens out, no?

Two and a half years ago, I got myself red Cynthia Rowley frames a la Sally Jessie Raphael.

This time, I got me some Calvin Klein.

Watch out, Rivetergirl's getting all cute.

Wordless Wednesday

Why having an understanding pregnant neighbor rocks

Saturday night, Bill and I along with our rambunctious posse attended a birthday soirée for a dear friend of ours.

I guess I should stipulate that it was a nice soirée until we showed up, then it turned into a frat party.

We can't help ourselves, I guess.

All the nice people left and we remained being loud and dancing like fools.



Luckily for us, we saved ourselves cab fare as just as our baby sitter was about to expire, our lovely neighbor agreed to drive us all home. Sarah is in a family way and therefore sober.

Of course, we never agreed to act right, so I'm sure we owe her a grand apology and a huge thank you.

So thanks, Sarah, for getting knocked up and for driving our stupid asses home. We appreciate you!

Disapproving Kelley

With thanks to the Disapproving Rabbits.

New Rivetergirl banner

My dear friend, Tracee, told me that the cookie I lovingly decorated for myself would make a good blog banner.



Being that I often like the ideas of others and hate my own, I did just as she said.

I think she's right.

Markel Farkel Friday

"Fresh Fucking Pineapples" Oh yeah!

I can't believe that "cat" is not housebroken.

King of the Whoa.

The Dark Knight meets Hancock? Or is CineMagic not your everyday movie theater?



Because bacon is always better than fries.

What exactly did I mean, anyway?

Me: Do you want to have lunch with me at Garden of Eaten (a salad bar restaurant).

Bill: Sure, but by "Garden of Eaten" you mean "Grand International Buffet," right. (Yeah, the buffet with all the deep fried stuff that I can't resist.)

Me: No, I mean let's have salad.

Bill: What? We haven't pigged out in a week.

Me: (incredulously) Uh, we haven't stopped pigging out in more than a week.

Bill: Then it's settled, I meet you at Grand International Buffet at 11.

It's hard to argue with that a man of no logic.

Exercising is dangerous

Just another reason why you won't see my flabby ass out jogging:

Jogger runs mile with rabid fox locked on her arm

PRESCOTT, Ariz. — Authorities in Arizona say a jogger attacked by a rabid fox ran a mile with the animal's jaws clamped on her arm and then drove herself to a hospital. The Yavapai County sheriff's office said the woman told deputies she was on a trail near Prescott on Monday when the fox attacked and bit her foot.

She said she grabbed the fox by the neck when it went for her leg but it bit her arm.

The woman wanted the animal tested for rabies so she ran a mile to her car with the fox still biting her arm, then pried it off and tossed it in her trunk and drove to the Prescott hospital.

The sheriff's office says the fox later bit an animal control officer. He and the woman are both receiving rabies vaccinations.

Halloween in D.C.

Did you know that kids trick-or-treat in Washington, D.C., just like we do here?

Yeah, we weren't certain, but when Margaret and her traveling companion, Hannah, knocked on doors, strangers gave them candy ... just like they do every where else in the country. Awesome.

Mar and Hannah spend their Halloween in costume at the Zoo, on canal barge tour, trick-or-treating at the lovely boutiques in Georgetown (that was really fun) and doing some traditional trick-or-treating in our hotel's neighborhood — which was probably the most awesome neighborhood ever. All the houses were decorated and everybody was out enjoying the gorgeous fall weather.

Definitely a great place to celebrate Halloween.

Margaret and Hannah (a princess and a witch) in the lobby of our hotel, the Omni Shoreham.

In the elephant house of the National Zoo.

If you look very carefully, there's a giant panda at the back of that exhibit.

On the C&O Canal barge tour.

Despite Margaret's look of utter boredom, this was really an interesting and relaxing tour on a mule-drawn barge.

Trick-or-treating in the Woodley Park neighborhood near our hotel.



Mar enjoying some of her Halloween bounty after a long and fun day.

I need a beer

T.G.I.E.D,* or my head just might explode.

But at least I got a sticker.

*Thank goodness it's Election Day.

Introducing the Giant Pencil

Giant Pencil!

Giant Pencil!

I used to have the wee pencil. Now I have the a giant pencil.



My mom bought me my giant pencil at the National Archives right after we saw the Magna Carta, the Bill of Rights, the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence.

I know! We're so patriotic.

And because of that I'm going to chronicle the life and ever-shrinking times of my giant pencil.

Today the giant pencil is 16 inches (for reference the wee pencil is 1-3/4").

Long live the giant pencil!

Markel Farkel Friday on Monday!

Oh my, Markel Farkel Friday on Monday? Isn't that so typical of Rivetergirl — she makes a plan and then throws it out the window ... but not really.

Since I was out of town most of last week, I missed the second installment of Markel Farkel Friday and since he was gracious enough to send these gems along, I thought I'd share them with you.

I'm hoping to start my D.C. recap soon, but I'm still playing catch up and I've got a classfull of exams to grade.