well, the first 4 letters of 'waitress' ARE 'wait'...

Today is the day I could sleep in, which is probably why I'm up at 6:34am.

Last night we went out to dinner with some friends. It was a new restaurant for all of us, although my parents have been many times and continually sing its praises.

We get there promptly at 8pm for our reservations. The hostess tells us that she's just delivering the check to the people at our table and that it should just be a minute. The place is packed (what recession?) and when we go inside we notice how uncomfortably warm the little restaurant is.

Due to how tiny the two rooms of the restaurant are, we wait outside on the back deck. It's a nice night, and we have some catching up to do.

At about 8:15pm, one of the servers comes over and tells us that our table contains "older women" who a are a little slow when it comes to leaving. We give him the fake 'no problem' laugh, then talk about him and how hungry we are the minute he walks away.

Now, as an aside, I must tell you that I'm trying to lose maybe ONE pound before the Philly trip, so I'm doing the Special K diet. Here's the thing about the Special K diet: it probably works because you barely EAT ANY FOOD. All day all I've had is two bowls of cereal and two Special K bars. So I'm STARVING as I'm waiting to "eat your usual dinner". One drink and I'm pretty sure I'll be on the floor.

At 8:23pm, the same server informs us that they are finally setting the table for us. AND, that there's also a table on the front deck in the same stage of clearing if we're interested in that. I'm not a big fan of sweating while I'm eating, so I strongly suggest the outside table. It's a beautiful night, and I'm prepared with a sweater.

At 8:35pm: "We're just setting your table."

Um, weren't you doing that 12 minutes ago?

I'm to the point of delirium, and every other sentence out of my mouth is "I'm so hungry."

FINALLY at 8:40pm we are brought to our table.

There are 4 of us.

The table has 3 chairs.

Three place settings.

Three water glasses.

Three menus.

Mr. KK stands while the rest of us sit. They are in no rush to grab him a chair.

Finally our waitress comes over, and Mr. KK and I order drinks (negroni for him, pomegranate martini for me) and our friends order a bottle of wine.

The wine arrives, no drinks.

The waitress comes back at 9:15 to tell us the specials. No drinks.

Finally, at 9:30pm – an hour and a half after our reservation time – our drinks arrive, we place our order, and we toast to finally getting together.

To add insult to injury? Our waitress was falling over herself for the table behind us, that got seated right about when we put our dinner order in. She's visited them at least four times, asking if they want another round of drinks, bringing a tray of forks for their entrees after they've cleared their salad plates and flatware (we had to ask for forks. twice).

The worst part? I wasn't even thrilled with my meal.

On the Fresh Prince, cheesesteaks and a big old bell

It's almost time for the 35th Birthday Trip with the girls!

And in case you didn't get it from my super-awesome clues, we're going to Philly!

Trip participants: kk, T and D
Trip dates: June 10-14

First stop: Atlantic City. We're spending a night in old AC, in the glitz and glamour of the Jersey Shore. It doesn't get more exciting than this. The best part? We found a room at Trump's place for $39. The Donald would be happy knowing that that's the cheapest I've ever paid for a hotel room in my whole life. (Did I mention that number will be divided by 3? Yep. $13 for a night of fun filled with taffy, shredded T-shirts and smoky octogenarians.

Next up: Philly, baby!

We don't have a definite itinerary, but here's what I know is on tap:

The Pop Shop for grilled cheese – this place is in NJ and was on Throwdown with Bobby Flay...31 different types of grilled cheese!

Pat's and Geno's for cheesesteaks – T and I can't wait! (D doesn't eat meat...her loss!) We'll each get one from the two places and do halvsies to see which one should be named king. Cheese Wiz here I come!

The Liberty Bell (and all things historical)

Red Sox vs. Phillies – yep, we got tickets. It wasn't easy, but we'll be there. And thanks to D, we even have special shirts to wear to the game. (We'll be the 3 girls dressed alike on the top row. I'll be the one glued to my seat with Vertigo.)

The Mutter Museum – a President's colon, conjoined twins in a jar and famous facial moles? Sign me up! (This one's for you, D! You know how much T and I are not fans of museums...especially ones with body parts).

Betsy Ross's House – T has been talking about going here ever since we decided to go to Philly. Maybe it's her love of crocheting?

That's just the beginning of the fun.

The three of us haven't been on vacation together in quite some time...

Philly will never be the same!

Well, I'm not a gazillionaire

Update: last night's Powerball drawing was for $222 million.

ONE person in South Dakota is the lucky recipient of more money than they'll know what to do with.

THIS unlucky person is back at work, trying to think up her next "get rich quick" plan so she can blow this popsicle stand.

Any suggestions?

On hating the weather channel, needing a bigger fridge and getting salt in the wound

I believe this is the longest I've gone without posting since I was a newbie blogger. And I have to say, I missed it!

Imagine The Best Of SNL, and then apply it to my life. So I present to you, the snippets, quips and comments from the long holiday weekend.

First off, we hosted a big Memorial Day bash. Mr. KK fondly remembers big family picnics from when he was young, and was thinking we could replicate those times in our very own backyard.

That was followed by Memorial Day Party Part Deux, with our families to eat some of the tons of leftovers we had from the day before.

That was followed by me having to COME INTO WORK on Monday (Memorial Day, national holiday for all you playing at home).

Number of different ways we got the word out: 4 (facebook event invite, evite for those people not on facebook, regular email for those that ignore evite and verbal invitations to those over the age of 85)

Number of hours I spent glued to The Weather Channel memorizing the 'Local on the 8's' forecast: 11

Number of pounds of pulled pork I made: 18 (yes, 18. no joke)

Number of trips to the vet for Vito's gross green eye goop: 1

Number of tents in the yard: 4

Number of guests at the party: 54

Number of salads and side dishes people brought: 13

Number of love connections at the party: 1, between Christian and Lilly. (Phone numbers were exchanged. They are both 5.)

Number of minutes it rained: 3 (thank god)

Number of items Mr. KK's friend J gave up on his diet: 4 ("I just cut out bacon, cheese, mayo and bread.")

Number of refrigerators I have: 1

Number of refrigerators I could have used: 2

Number of mosquito bites: 3

Number of broken chairs: 1 (my father-in-law went right over!)

Number of beer pong games: 27 (I was 3-1)

Number of items that caught on fire: 1 (Desi, those jeans are flammable!)

Number of overnight guests: 6

Number of hot dogs consumed: 1 (my quota for the year)

Number of people under the age of 8 at our house: 13 (a record!)

Number of beers too many Mr. KK had: 2

Number of times someone uttered the phrase "You have way too much food!" to me: 367

Number of roads on Monday I COULDN'T drive down to get to work because they were closed for the parade: 4

Number of times I wanted to cry due to said road closures: 17

Number of hours I spent at work that turned out to be a waste of time: all of them

Number of diets I'm starting after the weekend: 3

I'm back, blogosphere! Missed ya!

behind on life

it's hard to imagine that i will ever catch up.

i haven't posted a real post in what seems like forever.

i have about 200 blog posts in my reader (sorry for the lack of comments!).

and i haven't eaten a meal at my house in 11 days.

but i can see the light at the end of the tunnel...looking forward to that long weekend!

Did I fall into a time maching and it's really 1956?

Saturday was one of those really super fun days that I had to work for 8 hours.

As I was getting home after a long, yet frustrating day surrounded by senior management peeps who can't make a decision to save their lives, it was just about dark. I'm hungry, tired and at about a zero on the patience level.

Mr. KK was standing out on the front lawn leaning on a hoe (the yard tool, not a tramp) talking to whom I guessed was a neighbor. (I don't know my neighbors; I'm convinced the think Mr. KK is either a widow or bachelor).

I drag myself out of the car and Mr. Neighbor waves at me and asks, "Just getting home from a long day of shopping?"

No. Just exhausted from kicking chauvanistic men in the nuts.

Why we shouldn't cut school funding

Setting: check out, Mohegan Sun Casino

The bill comes to $201.60

Mr. KK hands the girl $202

She takes out a calculator.

No effing joke.

i love my soup

Tonight: me and Joel McHale at Mohegan Sun.

Floor seats.

Margaritas.

Martinis.

Madness.

To honor my mother...

...and because I don't have time to write a new post (sorry!), I'm re-posting my VERY FIRST BLOG POST.

And, since it's about me and my mother, and since it's a few days after Mother's Day (not too bad, only 3 days late...), it seemed like the perfect post.


Hairy Conversation With Mom

I'm sitting at a bar with my mother, enjoying a post-dinner drink. We ate at a Mexican restaurant so I’m pretty full and my hair smells like fajitas.

My mother and I are talking about my grandmother’s swollen ankles when she makes an inappropriate segue to bikini waxes. Wow. So not the conversation I want to have with my mother right now. Or ever.

Mom: “So, what’s it like?”

Me: “What do you mean ‘what’s it like?’ It’s like putting hot wax on your skin and ripping out the hair. Down there.”

Mom: “Does it hurt?”

Me: “Actually – to me – it hurts a lot less than waxing my eyebrows.”

Mom, pensive for a minute: “What do I wear?”

Me: “An evening gown.”

Mom: “Huh? What?”

Me: “Just wear your underwear.”

Mom: “Well, KK, YOUR underwear and MY underwear are two different things. Yours cover a lot less.” My mom doesn’t know how to whisper. Now the old guy sipping Jameson at the end of the bar thinks I wear crotchless thongs. Nice.

And the conversation goes on. I signal the bartender for a much-needed second drink. My mother continues talking about waxing her hoo haa.

I squirm through another three or four minutes of questioning, ranging from “Do I have to let the hair grown in?” to “Do they wax just the outside?”

Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “Mom. Please. Just make an appointment and don’t do anything to your…down there…from now until then. Okay?”

My mom stares at me for a minute, looks around the bar, and takes a sip of her Pinot Grigio. She leans in and whispers, “Can you believe that woman has the gall to wear those pants out in public?”

???

there was a Vito hair INSIDE my grapefruit.

seriously...how does he do it?

RIP Rav 4?

Our Rav 4, which was the first car I EVER bought...and one of the very few things I actually OWN in this world, quite possibly may have shit the bed.

She just stopped working today, and stranded Mr. KK on the side of the highway.

I believe she is just acting out, because yesterday was her 12th (yes, twelfth) birthday, and I forget to sing to her.

She being towed away to the garage as I write this...

I think CareerBuilder is trying to tell me something

I used CareerBuilder like ONCE, and now I get weekly emails of all the jobs out there that CB has matched with my personality.

And, probably given the state of the economy, and the fact that CareerBuilder is one of the most visited sites next to Google and this blog, they've revamped their format to include not only how many people have applied for the job listing, but also whether or not a job is a "good match" for you. I believe they base this information on...nothing.

This week's job matches were especially hilarious.

(Reminder: I am a writer.)

VERY GOOD MATCH:

• Family Nurse Practitioner

(Okay, my twenties were a fun and crazy time, but I highly doubt I drank so much I forgot that I went to Nursing School or learned to love the sight of blood)

GOOD MATCH:

• Program Director – Mortuary Science

(I'm bad at anything that has the word 'science' in it...especially when it has to do with dead bodies)

• Parts Counterperson – Branch Toyota

(Apparently CareerBuilder thinks I'm a dude)

• Ophthalmic Technician

(I don't even know what this IS...)

• Morning News Anchor

(okay, even though I'm not qualified for this position, I think it's trés cool)

• VP of Sales

(Sales of what?)

And my favorite:

• School Human Resources Director

(I'm the most un-human resources person there is...i have no filter...i can't be nice to people I don't like...and i'm not crazy about kids)

FAIR MATCH

• Blogger Freelance Writer

(????!!!!)

How To Embarass Your Mommy

Last night I managed to get home at a decent hour (7:30) and actually had time to work out.

I got home, gave Vito his belly rubs, then ran upstairs to get changed. AND, being the little multi-tasker that I am, I could not only get my exercise in, I could also catch the entertainment news on E! Was Madonna trying a new approach to manipulating the Malawi government? Are producers still crazy enough to give Kendra her own show? I couldn't wait.

As I'm getting changed and sitting on the bed putting on my sneakers, Vito is sitting next to me, whining excitedly and pawing at my leg.

The reason?

My little smarty pants knows that when I take him on a W-A-L-K, I sit on the bed and put the very same sneakers on.

But I'm not going on a walk...I'm going on the treadmill...Watching E!...Cancelling out those M&M's I had at work...

The guilt and the big brown eyes get the best of me and before I know it I'm strapping on Vito's harness and we're headed out the front door. Oh, the sacrifices a mom makes.

We live in what they call a "walking neighborhood". Which basically means that we don't live on a main road, have sidewalks, the houses are pretty close together, and families jaunt around with their dogs and kids.

Vito couldn't be happier, stopping at every blade of grass to pee and sniff. But taking Vito for a walk is an adventure, so my eyes are peeled.

We MUST avoid other dogs at all costs. Vito is NOT good with other pups. He barks like a savage animal, straining on his harness until he's practically choking. Our walks usually consist of U-turns, zig-zagging and hiding behind trees to keep out of sight of other dogs.

Today, of freaking course, was no different.

We're not five minutes into the walk and I spot a man with not one, but TWO dogs headed our way. We take a quick left, and Vito is thrown off a bit, as this is not our usual route. But we're in the clear. He doesn't see the other dogs. Until they see him. And start barking.

Miraculously Vito ignores them (note: extra treat for Vito when we get home) and we keep going down the street.

Two houses down, and elderly gentleman pulls into his driveway, gets out of his car, sees Vito, smiles and stops at the end of his driveway.

OLD MAN: "What a cutie!"

He's waiting for us, up ahead on our left, at the edge of his lawn.

OLD MAN: "Well, look at him!"

And I do.

And I see that sight I'm so familiar with: Vito scooting his back legs up and tucking his little behind under.

Vito takes a big fat dump on the guy's lawn.

Oh, god.

I must've said it outloud, because the man says to me: "It's okay, don't worry."

I whip out my plastic bag to show him that I DO care, and that I'm a good mommy who cleans up after her dog.

Vito springs off his poop, smells it, then proceeds to rip up the guy's lawn as he kicks his legs back over his little steaming present.

And I was worried about the barking???

how my week has been going...

For the first hour I was awake today, I thought it was only Wednesday.

When I heard it was already Thursday, I almost fell off the treadmill.

Hooray for The Office and 30 Rock tonight!

Where should I be right now?

Up the street meeting Bobby Flay at a book signing.

Where am I right now?

Work.

Because I just had too much on my plate to get up and go. Plus, I it was first come first served, and I wasn't even guaranteed he'd sign my book.

Oh well.

Catch you next time, Bobby.

Great Guac

I LOVE Cinco de Mayo. This is probably due to my love of Mexican food, margaritas and Coronas. (It is NOT not due to my love of the swine flu)

And I can NEVER get enough guacamole.

Here's my recipe – enjoy!


Perfect Guacamole

2 Avocados
1 lime
1 tomato, seeded and chopped
1/4 cup chopped cilantro
Garlic salt
Salt and pepper

Optional:
1 diced jalapeno

• Open avocados and remove flesh into a bowl.
• Squeeze lime over the avocado
• Mash avocado with fork until creamy, still leaving a few small chunks
• Sprinkle with garlic salt, salt and pepper
• Add tomato and cilantro
• Mix well and enjoy with your favorite chips (I prefer Tostitos Gold)

Happy May 5!

Wanna feel old?

Kurt Loder, who was one of the original MTV VJs way back when, turns SIXTY FOUR today.

(I know some of you might not know who he is. I'm too lazy to post a photo.)

Remember when MTV played videos? Like, all day?

Day 1 with new Blackberry

8:03AM

Phone rings, it's my friend J. I can't wait to hear about her new baby.

Pick up the phone and click 'answer' button.

Accidentally hit 'camera' button.

Inadvertently take picture of steering wheel.

Miss J's call.

Need to figure out how to retrieve voicemail.