catheroominations

Yesterday during my lunch hour, I made a stop at Aki’s Bakery to pick up a birthday cake. I didn’t choose this one though.

When I walked through the bakery door, I was immediately overcome by the sweet aromas of cakes, cookies, pies, and pastries. There was a line. So I would have to wait. And endure the scents that surrounded me. And try not to drool all over myself. I hadn’t had lunch yet.

The lady in front of me was anxious. Not in a disgruntled “hurry-up-and-move-this-line-along” kind of way, but in an anticipatory, practically dancing-around-the-bakery knid of way.

At last it was her turn.

B: What can I get you?
Giddy customer: I’d like one of your guava cakes, please (giggle).

Guava cake might sound odd to you if you haven’t tried it, but trust me. It is incredible. The cake is pink, the icing is light pink, the filling and top of the cake are made of a guava jelly-like substance. This is the bakery’s signature cake.

B: Would you like me to write something on it?
GC: (giggle) Would you write “welcome home” please? (turns around and looks at me, giggling)
B: Sure. Do you want a special color?
GC: (turns to look at me again, giggling) Can you do three colors? Red, white and blue?
B: Absolutely. Be right back.
GC: He’s coming home from Iraq. (bounce, bounce, giggle)
Me: (Giant lump in throat. Can’t muster any sort of congratulatory remark that conveys my overwhelming happiness about this event except) Wow!
GC: Yeah! (giggle giggle)

Suddenly I didn’t mind spending one-third of my lunch in a bakery line. This woman’s pure elation was infectious. I imagined the homecoming and wondered if the soldier’s favorite cake was Aki’s famous pink concoction. I imagined how delicious that first bite would be for them. Not because the cake is simply scrumptious, but because they would be enjoying it with loved ones. On American soil. Home at last.

Are you ready for some horse racing? Today is the 132nd Run for the Roses. Post time 6:04 p.m. Eastern.

While you’re preparing the burgoo, hot browns, and mint juleps, here’s a little soundtrack for your enjoyment:

Catheroo’s Kentucky Derby 132 iTunes Playlist
Bring on the Dancing Horses by Echo & the Bunnymen
Which Way Does That Old Pony Run by Lyle Lovett
Who’s Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses by U2
Run by Snow Patrol
Taking the Inside Rail by Sting
Quick by Eddie from Ohio
Run Baby, Run by Sheryl Crow
The Winner Takes it All by Abba
Roses by Outkast
For the Love of Money by The O’Jays

Now put this on:

And sing along:

My Old Kentucky Home
The sun shines bright in My Old Kentucky Home,
‘Tis summer, the people are gay;
The corn-top’s ripe and the meadow’s in the bloom
While the birds make music all the day.

The young folks roll on the little cabin floor,
All merry, all happy and bright;
By ‘n’ by hard times comes a knocking at the door,
Then My Old Kentucky Home, good night!

Chorus
Weep no more my lady
Oh weep no more today;
We will sing one song
For My Old Kentucky Home
For My Old Kentucky Home, far away

(Contemporary lyrics adapted in 1986 from Stephen Foster’s original lyrics, 1853.)

…and they’re off!

When customer service is bad, you want to tell everyone. You ask to talk to a manager, write to supervisors, threaten to close an account, or shop somewhere else. Why are we compelled to do something only when we are wronged?

I intend to write to The Bank about an experience I had with one of their employees recently.
keep reading They’re gonna hear about this one.

I’m thinking about going to this year’s BlogHer Conference.
Are you going?

Someone asked me that question Monday night at the Willy Porter show at The Attic.

Me: No. But I play one.
Nice cashier: I think I walked into one of your shots earlier. I’m sorry.
Me: Oh. No. Don’t worry about it. It’s OK.
Nice cashier: You know, we show local artists here, if you ever want to get your photographs out in the public. Here’s the contact number for the person who handles all the art. (Hands me a business card.)
Me: (stunned) Oh! I’m not good or anything! Really, I don’t know what I’m doing.
Nice cashier: Nah. I’ll bet you’re a good photographer. All the great ones think they’re not. I’ll bet you’re awesome. And if you’re taking shots of performers here, we should show them!
Me: No. Seriously, I’m not that good.
Nice cashier: Yeah. Yeah. You must be really good.

Her impression had nothing to do with my talents, and was based purely on circumstantial evidence.

keep reading “Are you a photographer?”

The following searches resulted in visits to my blog.

Duke basketball Christian Slater
I hate Duke. And I think you mean Christian Laet… no, I don’t think I want to finish that.

Domo arigato gozaimashita
It means good morning, in the most formal sense. I hope that helped.

Immunity idle
Note to self: misspell more or use more puns. Makes for more hits.

Hot mustaches
I think you all know how I feel about this one.

I gotta keep my game tight like Kobe on game night
While I am the authority on this, I’m keeping that secret to myself.

Hermione pole dancing vids
People just assume that after a couple of beers Emma Watson will just don the stilettos and swing around a pole.

Who is Emmer Effer
Anyone can be Emmer Effer, really.

Sexsomnia
Having sex while sound asleep. Now that’s what I call multi-tasking!

My way hot meat
I have no words for this one.

Random/useless information
Now this one? I understand.

Because I think the day after “Spring Forward” needs one.

Did anyone get up on time Monday? I didn’t. I was completely disoriented when the alarm went off at o’dark thirty. And then, last night, I was up until the wee hours of today.

I hereby recommend that the U.S. implement Daylight Savings Time as a holiday. This would be a holiday that even Lou Dobbs would like; he wants us to celebrate our similarities, not our differences, doesn’t he? And we’re all in the daylight-savings time mess together. Well, except for Arizona. But they like to be difficult where national holidays are concerned and don’t observe Martin Luther King Day either. So, let’s just not tell them about this one.

Think of the marketing possibilities!

T-shirts, buttons, and statics for your car
“Frankie Say: Set your clocks!” (I just dated myself there, didn’t I?)
“I heart DST”
“Hate DST? Move to AZ”
“WWJD? He’d change his clocks, the first Sunday of April. Amen.”

Celebrity recorded phone messages
Simon Cowell:
“If I’m being honest, this changing clocks is absolutely horrendous. It’s completely atrocious and utterly abominable.”

Donald Trump:
“This time change is yoooge. But not as yoooge as my success. Don’t forget to change your clocks, or you’re fired.”

Martha Stewart:
“Changing your clocks before bed tonight is a Good Thing. My former bitches cellmates in prison wish they had a clock to change. Let me teach you how to make your own clock. First…”

Beavis and Butthead:
Butthead: Hey Beavis, we’re supposed to set our clocks ahead one hour tonight.
Beavis: Huh huh. You said cocks.
Butthead: No I didn’t. I said clocks, dumbass.
Beavis: OK, but you said head. Huh huh.

Tom Cruise:
“Shhh, keep it down and make no sudden movements when you change your clocks tonight. Oh, and don’t take any sleep aids. Medications don’t work.”

Nicole Ritchie and/or Lindsay Lohan:
“Oooh, we set our clocks forward tonight. That’s one less hour of starvation for us.”

Napoleon Dynamite:
“Change my clocks tonight? Maybe I will, Gosh!”

Store sales

“Daylight Savings Time means savings for you! 80% off on our entire inventory, when the clock strikes 2.” Because it won’t.

Theme parties
Like NYE, celebrate with each time zone!

Parades
Start time 1:59 a.m. End time 3:01 a.m.

So, how do we make this a reality? Petition? Letters to our state representatives? Can we just claim to our bosses it already is a holiday and skip work?

Oh, and of course with this holiday comes the complementary “Fall Behind” day off six months later. It’s imperative to our health, as we must properly adjust our eyes to the morning light.