Wednesday, April 24, 2013
I have some beautiful friends. Stunning women. Women who haven't purchased their own drinks... ever.
Their beauty comes at a price. Their tiny 110 pound bodies a result of their ability to turn down french fries and pick up vegetables. Naturally when we all gathered for a bachelorette party, a special dinner out was no exception.
"Can I have the grilled Halibut? Substitute the potatoes for asparagus and hold the cream sauce. No butter on the asparagus."
"Grilled chicken. Just the chicken. No sides. No sauce."
"Baked Mahi Mahi. No cream sauce. And a vodka tonic. Those don't have any calories right?"
And around the table it went. The waiter slowly losing patience as no one ordered according to the chef's careful selections.
I sat at the end of the table. 145 pounds. 7 months pregnant. Absolutely zero desire to waste my girls night out on grilled anything.
"And what can I get for you?" the waiter asked.
"I'll take the braised short ribs. Keep the mashed potatoes, add an extra scoop of the garlic butter." I said as I slapped the menu onto the table.
There was a pause, then he started laughing. Not a polite snicker. Nooooo. Full bellied laughter.
Someone did not get a tip from me that night.
How fabulous were those potatoes? I wouldn't know. When eight 110 pound women want 'just a bite or two', not much is left for the pregnant lady.
Monday, April 22, 2013
We received one of those Nielsen surveys in the mail last week. Nielsen ratings help determine the popularity of shows, decide which shows will continue... and which shows will be cancelled. The survey requested one viewer be chosen to represent the household.
Naturally, I chose myself.
Judy Judge, the Kardashians, and the Real Housewives of Orange County can all thank me.
To everyone with taste... I'm sorry.