seriously?

This is from my boss...for personal use.... I'm assuming so he can stalk old girlfriends and young girls....

What's the Difference Between a Column and a Row?

While on the phone with Sister-Wife at the other location, we were looking at a product that I was thinking of ordering for an upcoming event. Since calling it by the name on the website was proving to be useless, I described the item as being in the first column in the second row. Easy! Excruciatingly Hard.

In case you needed clarification also.

Here, we'll do another one: Find the item in the first column, second row.

Answer: you should have picked the 62 cent, turquoise pen - promo bic twist action custom pen...

How Do You Copy and Paste?

It's been a while. It's been a long, long while.
I've been busy.
I've been happy.
I've definitely been entertained.
I've also started a new position at a new company. On paper and during the whole recruitment and interview process (which is eerily close to dating), this job and company sound stellar. The real deal, not so much. With less than a month under my belt, I wake up in the morning and dread coming in to work. I also think of ways to spike my coffee (but that might be because of a different problem...) I should still be in the Honeymoon phase, no?

Within hours of my first day on the job, I was no longer enthralled, and my excitement levels dissipated beyond belief. I went home upset and teary eyed, drank some wine, attempted to erase any negative thoughts, and to start fresh for the following day. Below is a running tab of everything wrong with this place, and quite frankly, it feels like a horrible, no good, very bad date. Daily:

• They don't know what a list serve is....meaning: I need to enter every single employee's email address because there isn't a single grouping to make life easier.
• They don't participate in effective and efficient use of keyboard shortcuts, because they don't know how to apply them.
• I'm only allowed one cup of coffee per day... 
• Excel? What's that?
• Google? 
• To reach my target audience, what do you mean I need to spend money on marketing material?
• Dude farts in my office.con.tin.ual.ly.
• Nepotism. Hardcore.
• How do you copy and paste? I wish this was a joke, but it's not.
• "Friday's are jean day. You can wear jeans, but don't look like you rolled out of bed" - My Boss. First, I was insulted because I was dressed better than him, second, that Friday, after putting thought and effort into my outfit, I got to work, only to realize Dude was wearing a dirty long sleeved shirt, stained jeans, crocs, and a Ravens jersey. I couldn't have been happier that they lost their playoff game to the Patriots.
• No eating at my desk in my office, which is away from the general public.
• Dude watches movies during the day.
• When I asked for dual monitors, I was told to split my screens, because it's the same thing.
• Social Media is not real. Don't bother trying to explain it. 
• After explaining how to do something for 10 minutes, I sit on the phone to hear I am wrong and then parroted everything I just said, but 10x's wordier and very confusing.
• Website has more grammatical errors than a 5th grader's essay.
• Sister-wife explains the ins and outs of salesforce. she doesn't know how to copy and paste.
• Dude just gave me pointers for a marketing campaign. He was wrong.
• This one guy who continually calls here, who is also Dude's friend, refers to me as Princess. What an ass.
• I need to crush a bottle of wine nightly to forget that I work here.
• My cover letter writing skills are now amazing, since I've had daily practice.
• ....

*Note: Dude is not my boss.

This Might Be Personal, But Are You a Partier?

It's no secret that I like to drink. But I've also toned it down. A LOT. Instead of drinking only on days that end in Y, I now drink only on days that contain an S....

Seriously though, all kidding aside, this aging thing sucks; I can no longer battle a hangover in less hours than it took to acquire, and realizing that my pant size was growing and my wallet was shrinking, made me think I might be doing it wrong - just a little bit.

However, along this same train of thought, it's also no secret that I like to bake. I enjoy mixing my booze with my baked goods, it's the perfect adult accompaniment to almost anything. Really it is.

Since I've started this position, Dude has slowly tried to get to know me... which is totes understandable. Although, I should probably come with  package labeling that reads something along the lines of  "Not warm and cuddly; Wears her face on her face; Slightly judgmental." And knowing that I'm like this, I make a conscious effort to not come across as a First Class B.... immediately.

ANYWAY, I was in the mood to bake something; earlier in the day, my friend shared a recipe for Blue Moon Cupcakes. I like Blue Moon. I like cuppycakes. Grand. It was settled, I was making these. Of course, upon baking, I had a plethora of deliciousness in my house. Trying to be nice, and also in attempt to lessen the abundance on the dining room table, I brought some into work to share with Dude.After staring at the plate for a solid 10 minutes, he took one (it wasn't a nice take either. No. It was a snatch. "Thank You" didn't accompany the treat neither). These cupcakes don't have an overwhelming wheat beer taste, but, it is there; I also thought he should know what he was about to eat. I'd hate to be the cause of an allergic reaction, regardless of how much I dislike you. Once I told him, he attempted to crack a joke, and asked if I was trying to get him drunk.

Fast-forward a few hours later, and he stops in my office and randomly asks, "this might be personal, but are you a partier?" Slightly confused about why he would ask, and then reasoned that his question was probably sparked by the beer-y cupcakes, I answered honestly. Not during the week. I was mistaken to think that my short answer would have been enough to suffice him. He continued to try to pry deeper, but I wasn't having it. After an awkward silence, he left. We both knew he was coming back tomorrow loaded up with personal question ammo, and was going to fire away...

The cake recipe I used, was borrowed from Sorakeem. The frosting recipe was borrowed from Cupcake Project. Both recipes are below:

Blue Moon Cupcakes

(yields 24 cupcakes)

3/4 Cup Unsalted Butter, room temp

3 Eggs, room temp

1 Cup Blue Moon Beer

1/4 Cup Milk

2 1/2 Cups Flour

2 1/2 tsp Baking Powder 

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp orange zest

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

1 3/4 Cup Sugar (I substituted 1 1/2 tsp + a pinch of stevia)

1. Preheat your oven to 375 degrees. 
2. Line a cupcake tin. 
3. In a medium sized bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. 
4. In a small bowl, combine the milk and beer. 
5. In the bowl of an electric mixer, with the paddle attachment, cream the butter, and slowly add the sugar. Beat until light and fluffy. 
6. Add one egg at a time, beating well after each addition. 
7. Add your orange zest and vanilla. 
8. Next, reduce the speed of your mixer and add in your dry ingredients, alternating with your wet ingredients. You should start and end with your flour mixture. Mix until just incorporated. 
9. To make sure my cupcakes were uniform in size, I used an ice scream scoop to fill each, however, a 1/4 cup measuring cup works just as well. 
10. Pop in the oven for 18 minutes, they should be a light golden color, and toothpick should com out clean.
11. Place on a wire rack and let cool.

Orange -Vanilla Bean Buttercream Frosting

1/2 Cup Unsalted Butter, room temp (1 Stick)

1 1/2 Cups Confectioners' sugar

2 tsp Vanilla Bean Paste

1 Tbs Milk

1 Tbs Orange Juice

1. Beat the butter until creamy. 
2. Slowly add in the powdered sugar. Mix until creamy and smooth. 
3. Add in the vanilla bean paste, milk, and orange juice. Beat together for another minute. 
4. If it is too thin, add more sugar until the right consistency is achieved. Frost  your cupcakes.

Eat. Enjoy.

I'm Going to Need Some More Rum...

Disclaimer: I was asking for it. I'm also a glutton for punishment.

this was a bad date, but the texts after officially make this the worst.date.ever.

seriously.

It started like this: I finally caved in and agreed to go on a date with this 31 year old who has initials for a name. I'm pretty sure that should have been a red flag. On the day of our supposed Happy Hour get together, I received a sweet little text message: "Hey! I made plans with you not realizing the Redskins will be playing football tonight. I may have to reschedule. Not sure if I can give you my 100% undivided attention you deserve. Unless..." Naturally, I wanted to know what this 'unless' entailed, so I asked... "Unless you are also a fan and we can enjoy the game together. I prefer the latter of the two choices. I promise we will have a good time." Enjoy your game buckaroo. Alone.

I left work annoyed, not because of failed plans, but because of the amount of stress I began to have for a particularly non-stressful job. No sooner than I had opened the front door, I already had a bottle of red open and up to my mouth... listen, no time for judgment here. I wholeheartedly believed that I needed to take that bottle to the face. Around 8PM, and with quite a nice buzz, I received another text: "Hey! Here! Where are you?" Apparently I didn't make myself clear earlier. With my guard down, and my ennui on the rise, I decided to meet up with him. I threw caution to the wind, and approached the rest of the night with an open mind and bias free. I mean we were just getting drinks, how bad could that be?

I walked up and saw him standing outside. B.D. (Bad Date) announced that he got us a table for outside and flashed the pager he had been given. As we walked in, he let me know that he had already had a drink and I should catch up. I failed to inform him that I had already consumed the better half of a bottle of red. He asked what I would like to drink, and ushered me to an open spot at the bar. He placed an order with the bartender, and moments later I was presented with a tumbler of deliciousness. I thought to myself how he was slowly redeeming himself for his earlier faux pas. What a brief, brief, and highly delusional moment that was. At that instant, the pager buzzed, and the bartender asked if I would like to open a tab or close out? B.D. says "Yo, this is going off, I'm going to get the table. You need to close out since we're sitting outside." --records screech, music stops-- hold up, I didn't order this drink at the bar and YOU invited me out. I fumbled around in my wallet, and feigned not having a credit card nor my ID and announced that I had to go to the car to get it. Hero mode took over, and B.D. exclaimed "Oh. I got you."

At the table, he asked "sooo, are you trying to just drink or did you want to eat?" I asked what he planned on doing, and he obnoxiously announced that he was going to get the steak salad and a glass of RedBull with a shot of jager. Winner. Douchebag. Cool. I'm going to nurse my drink and eat a side salad since I'm out with super stinge tonight. Dinner conversation lulled. I'm not sure it was even existent. I pulled out all conversation ammo, and it still didn't take off. My eye wandered and began to people watch. I watched him eat his salad. It seemed as if he had never one) been out to eat in public before, two) eaten a salad prior to this awful encounter. I excused myself to the restroom as he stabbed the shredded lettuce. Once inside, I had a few moments alone. I mingled with a few people that I knew, watched the end of the game, and put an SOS up as my FB status. I don't care who rescued me at this point, just come save me.

Back at the table, B.D. proclaimed that we needed to go somewhere livelier. Hey dude, I'm not sure if you realize, but there's a pretty active bar inside. He got the check, and let it sit on the table for what seemed like an eternity. Finally when he decided to open up and pay, he asked me, how are we doing this? Are you paying for your portion or am I? Hey Buddy, I ordered a freaking $8 salad. Not the $23 salad you ordered or your overpriced gangsta drink that you sipped like a Nancy. You're paying for it. I needed another drink. Immediately. I hurriedly walked across the street to a bar where it was crowded enough to lose him. Fail. After I stared at everyone else and talked to another guy, B.D., quite insulted, grabs my arm and says I'm not showing him enough attention and he doesn't like it. My B. I go to the bathroom and attempt to run out the side doors. Another fail for my piss poor escape route. After a series of about 10 more painful exchanges, he asks, "soooo, do you kiss on the first date?" No. No I do not. At this point my tolerance level has been reached. I really wanted to knee him in the balls. I refrained. I thanked him for my side salad dinner and headed home.

The following are all unanswered texts from B.D.:

August 13, 2011 2:17 PM - Did I meet or exceed your expectations last night?

August 13, 2011 2:56 PM - Never mind. That was a dumb question

August 14, 2011 12:38 PM - R u asleep?

August 15, 2011 10:45 AM - Hey. I've been thinking about you. How did the weekend turn out for you?

August 17, 2011 1:33 AM - Is your phone broken? I'm confused, most women want to see me again. I don't understand you. If you don't want to see me or have me text you again, just say so. I can handle rejection.

August 21, 2011 12:06 AM (VM) - Haven't heard from you in a while, it's B.D. uhhh gimme a call when you get the chance. Talk to you later. (All said with extreme annoyance.)

I'm quite positive I haven't heard the end of this.

The best remedy for this atrociousness of a date was rum to forget and coconut to sweeten it up:

1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

2 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 cup packed shredded coconut flakes

1 1/2 sticks of unsalted butter (softened)

2 whole eggs + 2 egg whites

1 1/3 cups sugar

3/4 cup coconut milk

2 tsp pure vanilla extract

1/3 cup rum ( I used pyrat rum)

• Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and line your cupcake tin.
• In a medium sized bowl, whisk together all of your dry ingredients: flour, baking soda, salt, coconut flakes.
• In a small bowl, mix together all wet ingredients
• In your electric mixer, with the paddle attachment, cream together the butter and sugar until fluffy. Add eggs 1 at a time and beat after each addition.
• Reduce the speed to low, and add the dry ingredients to the butter mixture in 3 additions, alternating with the wet, and ending with the dry. Mix completely and scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed.
• Fill the cupcake liners about 3/4 full and bake for 25 minutes. They should spring back when lightly touched and a toothpick should come out clean when placed in the center.

When fully cooled, I spread a thin layer of nutella and topped with whipped cream and some more coconut flakes:

4 cups of heavy creamm
1/4 cup confectioner's sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla extract

• With the whisk attachment, combine all ingredients and beat on medium speed for about 3 minutes. Soft peaks will form.

Eat. Enjoy. 

*Note: I was right. I didn't hear the end of that. He waited a week and then sent me another late night text asking how often I lay awake at night wondering why I'm still single?? Answer: Never.