"Meat" Me at the Steakhouse

I was once a vegetarian.  I was for many, many years.  I was the girl at the family reunion that was stuck eating sauerkraut on a bun because the hot dogs and the fried chicken grossed her out.  Even though now I am not a vegetarian, I think I am still quite sensitive to the subject.  See, I want to know what great interior designer thought "Hmmmm . . . steakhouse . . . let's put the animals they are serving up on the wall."  I know that some people . . . mostly hunters would be my guess . . . think that taxidermy is an acceptable form of art.  I'm not going to be the one to argue that.  Whatever you want to put in your home is your prerogative.  I'm the daughter of an avid hunter so  Iaccept that some people enjoy hunting.  I personally don't understand it.  I know there are arguements about keeping populations under control and I understand that but that doesn't mean I have to like it.  That said, I just don't get the appeal of having cows and such stare at you as you eat their distant cousins.  Kind of gross if you ask me.  And why is the poor cow the only one that seems to be acceptable.  There are never taxidermy specimins of pigs or chickens at these restaurants.  It's not like we hunt cows.  They meet (lol! I accidentally spelled that as "meat" at first) their end the same way the chickens and pigs do.  There is a place where we go to eat that has pictures of pigs and chickens on the shirts of the waiters and waitresses.  I still find that disgusting.  Its a tad more tolerable but not much.  When I eat meat, I prefer not to think about where it comes from.  I wish I could go vegetarian again but with all my food allergies and such, it would be so hard.  I don't need to become anemic again.  I don't want to feel like I'm offending the hostess when I don't eat at a party.  Its just too hard.  So in the meantime, I will avoid chicken and fish because they blatently state the name of the animal and that can be too tough for me.  I will ask to be seated away from the offended glare of the taxidermy cow at the steakhouse.  I will do my best to be animal friendly.  Except for beef.  And turkey on Thanksgiving.  Oooo and bacon.  Everything is better with bacon.

Thank You God for These . . . Um . . . Well . . . Er . . . Gifts?

Last night we went out to eat (big surprise there) to one of the three local steakhouses.  We were seated in a booth in an empty section.  A large party was quickly seated right next to us.  They had a booth with a small table pulled up next to it and another booth across from that.  There were two more booths behind those ones and there was still room to get around the table so that potentially, they could seat more people there.  The thing that really bugged me is this blond in stiletto boots shows up and she's got a cake and a wrapped gift the size of a small SUV.  Are you kidding me?  She takes the gift and puts it on one of the booths behind them and then puts the cake on the other - thus taking over an entire section of the restaurant.  The hostess even brought people over there to seat them in the gift/cake booths only to find that they were already occupied by the cake and the gift.  My thing is - who the hell did this woman think she was?  I just don't understand people that are that egocentric.  This is a public restaurant.  You have not hired out a banquet room to celebrate a birthday party.  And they brought their own cake!  The restaurant serves dessert.  Why didn't they just buy everyone dessert instead of bringing their own food from home?  I wouldn't go to meet someone for lunch at a restaurant and take a sack lunch with me!  I know it can be hard to find a time and a place to get everyone together for celebratory gatherings but if you want to have a cake from home, here's a thought - HAVE IT AT HOME!  Luckily we were finished with our meal before the gift opening began.  I'm sure they would have wanted our booth to put the ripped up wrapping paper on.  Or better yet, we could have been background for their photos like at the restaurant last week where the woman in the next booth took a flash picture of everything her baby did.  Why do I always get stuck next to "God's gift to the world"?  God, if your listening, I speak for the world.  What is your gift return policy?

Nacho Average Lunch

So today I had a girl's lunch with my daughter.  It was wonderful.  We bundled up and headed out to the local Mexican place and had us some south of the border grub.  We chatted about this and that and just about everything you can think of.  It was nice because there was no reason for it.  There was nothing to celebrate except us being us.  Relationships are work and the relationships we have with our children are no exception.  What does it tell your child if you are having lunch out with friends on a regular basis yet never have lunch with them?  And I'm not talking about grabbing a McCheeseburger and fries on the way home from the dentist office.  I'm talking real sit down with a waiter, takes longer than 20 minutes meal.  One on one interactive time.  No cell phone, no television, no distractions what-so-ever.  Just good old fashioned conversation.  You get to know your kid in a way you didn't before.  You get to see them in a new light.  While having lunch with my daughter, I realized what a capable, grown up young woman I have.  She has a good head on her shoulders.  It hit me especially hard when the waiter asked if it would be separate checks.  Wow!  We looked like two girlfriends out having lunch!  That's exactly what I wanted.  And yet at the same time I don't.  It means she is growing up and I'm not quite ready to let go yet.  Thank goodness I have at least another year and a half of girlfriend lunches till I have to deal with that and for that I say gracias!

Mortality Mix-up

Funny Flashback -
A bunch of years ago when our daughter was maybe 9 or 10, we got a new restaurant in Suburbia.  So we set out to the Chipotle in search of a tasty meal.  Upon arriving, we got in line to wait for our turn to order.  Then we noticed an employee coming down the line speaking with all of the customers.  When he got to us. he stated that he was very sorry but their rice cooker had died.  We were more than welcome to stay and eat but our burritos would be riceless.  Hubby and I talked it over and decided what's a burrito without the rice and chose to go elsewhere.  Upon returning to the car, our daughter stated how happy she was that we didn't stay and eat at Chipotle.  "Why?" we asked.  "Because I don't want to eat somewhere with a dead guy in the back," she answered.  After much confusion we finally realized that when we were told that the rice cooker had died, she thought the man who was cooking the rice in the back of the restaurant had kicked the bucket.  We informed her that it was the machine that cooks the rice that died but we still laugh about her mix-up to this day.  Love you baby girl!

Blogger's Block

So today I am at a loss as to what to blog about.  I want to blog about things I am passionate about and I am not having an especially passionate day.  In an effort to get some ideas, I tried to think about what my hubby (who requested that I not blog about him) and I talked about over dinner and realized that we didn't talk about anything.  We didn't talk about anything because the music in the Chipotle, (yes, we were eating out and yes, I know my Five Weeks to Financial Betterification is almost up) anyway, the music in the Chipotle was so loud that we couldn't hear each other.  Why do they do that?  Especially at eating establishments where you go for the purpose of dining and chatting.  It just seems to defeat the purpose to me.  I don't mind a little background music but this was ridiculous.  Now, the one type of music we experience when out and about that I do really enjoy is Christmas music.  There is something about Christmas music that just puts me in a good mood and makes the shopping process easier and more enjoyable.  I also will use the Christmas music as a limit of sorts.  See, they play the music on a repeating cycle.  So if you hear the same song twice, you've probably been in that store too long.  Its hard to believe there is such a thing as being in a store too long but even I will admit that can happen and shopping is something that I am passionate about.  Hey, I've blogged about something I'm passionate about.  Guess I've come full circle today.  Way to beat the blogger's block.  Go me.  I'll save blogging about Hubby for another day :)

Top Ten Things I Learned This Weekend

10.  My best girl friend is tops.  She is my Yoda.
9.  You can make your own buffalo chicken salad at LaRosa's restaurant. 
8.  Factory Card Outlet is the slowest store at putting up their Christmas items. 
7.  My father-in-law is tops.  I owe him some boneless buffalo wings.
6.  Apparently, winter style is layering camis until you are warm enough. 
5.  It is possible to feel your heart breaking. 
4.  My hubby is tops.  He's better than pizza with extra cheese.
3.  Don't do anything with anybody.  Do it by yourself.  Rely only on you.
2.  There is a point were even I wish I hadn't worn sandals.
1.  Always Always Always start every phone conversation with "Am I on speaker?"

Coffee and Lattes and Booze - Oh My!

Starbucks has good coffee - overpriced but good nonetheless.  I like Starbucks.  I get sucked in on occasion usually by the scents wafting throughout the Barnes and Noble bookstore.  I just can't get with the program on their new concept though - booze at Starbucks.  Apparently, some marketing reject came up with the ridiculous idea of selling beer and wine at Starbucks and they are actually trying it.  They are testing the concept in at least one of their Seattle stores.  They claim their business is too slow in the evening.  Um, ok, then only stay open in the day.  What's so hard about that?  You are a coffee house.  Don't get greedy after 4 p.m. and ruin the place for those of us who like it the way it is.  I don't know about you but alcohol is the reason I don't go to bars and if Starbucks takes this nationwide, it will also be the reason that I don't go to Starbucks too.  The last time we went to a Starbucks, the service was awful.  We waited in line for five or ten minutes while the employee chatted with the customer in front of us.  Then, in front of an ever-growing line of people, she comped him his drinks.  And this gem was their "Barrista of the Month".  I'd hate to see the people who didn't meet that standard.  We left without any coffee and went to their website to complain when we got home.  About three weeks later, we got a letter in the mail with coupons for two free cups of coffee.  Two cups.  That's it.  It was barely worth the time we took to give them the feedback.  But hey, this is Starbucks so the retail value of those coupons is probably around $36.95.

Buffalos Don't Even Have Wings

Ok.  I have a silly declaration to make.  Its not monumental or anything but I would just like the world to know the truth.  Buffalo wings are buffalo wings.  If said buffalo wings do not contain the bone portion, they are still buffalo wings.  They are then called boneless buffalo wings. All buffalo wings are chicken but just because a buffalo wing does not contain a bone does not make it simply chicken.  If anything, it is the sauce that defines a buffalo wing.  If one orders buffalo wings, bone in or bone out, and chooses to get barbecue sauce on the wings, then they are simply wings or chicken.  It is the buffalo sauce that makes them buffalo wings.  So if one orders boneless wings but with buffalo sauce and another orders bone in wings with just plain barbecue sauce who is being more true to the buffalo wing consumption?  This will go down in history as one of life's great conundrums.  Which came first the chicken or the egg?  If a tree falls in the empty forest does it make a noise?  Is it the sauce or the bone that makes a buffalo wing?  I vote sauce.  So while I consumed boneless buffalo chicken wings, others were partaking in eating barbecue chicken wings.  'Nough said!

This blog is dedicated to my father-in-law.  If they were real buffalo wings, let's face it, you would have been sweating.  Mine were just as much buffalo wings as yours were.  That's my story and I'm stickin' by it.

Just a McThought . . . or Two

Today I drove through the McDrive-Thru and had two odd things happen: 

1)  When I arrived at the pick-up window, I was asked to please pull in one of the parking spaces off to my right and my food would be brought out to me when ready.  Ok, I thought this was fast food and this doesn't seem very fast but I pull into a spot anyway.  Then I notice that the parking spot and the one next to it are designated McParking spaces for drive-thru customers only.  I sat and stared at the sign thinking this makes no sense.  If I am a drive-thru customer, why am I not driving but sitting here waiting on my food.  There is a reason they don't call it the "you just don't have to leave your car line."  But at that point the McWorker knocked on my window with my food, so I stopped trying to wrap my mind around this brain teaser because I was distracted by the smell of grease.  Mmmmmm . . .

2)  When I looked in my bag, I found out I had the correct McOrder!  I was amazed.  This almost never happens.  Sometimes I think the drive-thru people give you the wrong thing on purpose just to see who will get out of their cars and come into the restaurant.  Taco Bell is notorious for this.  We are constantly counting the number of things that come in our bag.  We can't make sure they are correct because its Taco Bell - its not designed in any way for car consumption, but at least we can make sure we get the quantity of food we have paid for.  Yet they can't even seem to get that part right.  I don't want your free Cinnamon Twists.  I want what I ordered.  I don't think anyone actually buys those anyway.  I think they are made purely as a consolation prize for having to come into the restaurant.  The solution to this problem: I think that every restaurant with a drive-thru should be required to have one designated delivery person.  If you get home and have the wrong stuff, instead of you getting back in your car and driving across town, the delivery person should deliver the correct food items to your door. Ta da!  You'd always have the right food - even when you got the wrong food.

Just something that's on my mind and I thought I would McShare.  In case you hadn't noticed, I spent money on food someone else has cooked yet again.  Wonderful!  Day 5 of the Five Weeks to Financial Betterification plan is a failure.  Second McJob here I come :(

Excuse Me, Brittany, Could You Pass the Breadsticks?

And on a lighter note - Yesterday, we went out to dinner.  A last hoorah before we begin our self-imposed Five Weeks to Financial Betterification.  We do this.  We find ridiculous reasons to justify eating out: buying a new car, getting a good report card, starting a diet, or in this case, cutting ourselves off from wreckless spending.  But all of that will change with our Five Weeks to Financial Betterification plan (details soon to follow).  Anyway, we went to the Olive Garden to celebrate the ending of The Never-Ending Pasta Bowl (ah, the irony).  We no sooner got seated in the restaurant than we noticed the staff rearranging numerous tables in our room.  Great, a large party will be joining us.  And not just any old large party, we were lucky enough to get a party of teens on their way to the homecoming dance.  Oh, the joy.  They got seated and reseated and changed seats one more time.  All the while their tacky expensive dresses just skimming our table.  Who knew the Madonna look was making a come back?  The Olive Garden is not a small restaurant but apparently with teenagers their is no such thing as personal space unless its their own.  It started off well enough but then the volume level raised.  We had to shout to each other to be heard and of course, the moment we shout is the moment they pause making us look like "the loud talkers."  Then another table of classmates arrived and the inter-table conversations began.  Wait, it gets better.  Then came the pictures.  Sometime in the near future there will be pictures, most likely all over facebook, and I will be in the background in the numerous stages of pasta eating.  Now I know what Lindsey Lohan feels like . . . no wait . . . I was sober.  Now I know what Paris Hilton feels like.  I was living the Lady Ga Ga song "Paparazzi".  All in all a perfectly good evening was turned into a rushed gobbling of angel hair, eye rolling and trying to look unaware of the camera without looking stupid.  My hubby came up with a great idea.  There should be a database.  It should list all of the local high school activities where the children dress up and pretend to be adults.  Then we would know not to go out on those days.  They could even link it to the restaurant websites.  Easy access.  So next time you see me, you may be surprised.  Who knows where I'll pop up in a photo or what kind of pasta I'll be eating.  Thank God we're cutting ourselves off.  Why couldn't we have done it one day sooner?