Soup Is Not A Finger Food

Ten Years Ago Today: The Millenium Baby, Baby!

DECEMBER 31, 1999.  In the spirit of Prince's hit song and in great anticipation of a very special New Year's Eve, we decided to bring it big with a special millenium-edition party. We invited neighbors and friends and planned to ring in the new year as it reached each country, marking the hour with food and drinks specific to the region of honor.
 
I deep-fried tempura. We busted out the blender. (What really good party doesn't have a blender whipping up icy-sweet drinks?) At some point, a propos of nothing, Curt and another guest set their sights on finishing a bottle of sambuca.  It made perfect sense at the time! I played "Party Like It's 1999" over and over and over and giggled like a loon. We danced! We sang! We drank! We toasted! We bid farewell to the 20th century and welcomed the 21st century!
 
Yet as we prepared to welcome the year 2000, we guarded ourselves, and not just because of the fears that all the world's computers would suddenly stop working, sending the electricity off-grid, darkening traffic signals and causing airplanes to plummet earthward (remember your Y2K shelter?). No, the concern was mainly Curt's. He was employed as communications director at a small, community-based hospital in Washington, DC, and when he left work earlier in the day, he was informed that there was one patient who was in early labor. This was potentially significant because hospitals like to brag about having the year's first baby - and this wasn't just any year - it was THE MILLENIUM. And not just any millenium baby, but the nation's capital's!
 
Curt made note of this fact but, as each sip of Sambuca followed the one before it, quickly shrugged it off. Of all the huge hospitals in and around DC that churn out scores of babies each day, the odds were extremely low that his small hospital would be the one. What were the chances? He did the math -- and another shot of Sambuca.
 
HOWEVER, at two minutes after midnight, the phone rang. The room fell silent.  It was the hospital calling. It seemed that the lady who was in labor had indeed delivered her baby at 12:00:30 a.m. Worse, there was another hospital in the city that was also claiming the honor.  After some back-and-forth and close examination of fetal monitor strips, it was official: Curt's hospital's mother had edged out the other one by a mere 15 seconds!
 
Well, that changed the tone of the festivities dramactically. My besotted husband, stumbled lurched sprung into action. 

This was Big News, the media was all over it. The Washington Post called next, then the Associated Press.  Press releases had to go out, gifts had to be presented and photographs taken.  Curt was due immediately at work, 20 miles away.

Herocially, Curt shaved and showered and poured his drunk ass into a suit. The one sober couple at the party (there was one!) offered to drive Curt, and his car, to the hospital in DC, and leave him his car so that he could get home after the ordeal. 
 
Curt's recollection is how exceedingly hard it was for him to type the press release error-free (thank God for smell spell check). Meanwhile, he joined his wild and crazy hospital IT comrades in the hospital's Y2K Command Center (remember Y2K?) for some roast-beef sandwiches and gallons plenty of coffee.  On TV, they watched midnight ball drops every hour from the central time zone to Anchorage, AK.

Photographers arrived, gifts were presented, the baby was oohed-and-aahed over. Finally...at 5:00 a.m., my now-not-drunk-but-obviously-headed-towards-a-hangover husband trudged in.  He took a brief rest, sobered up, then returned to the hospital later in the afternoon to greet the television media, eager to cover the feel-good story of the day.

The lesson?  That's easy.  Go easy on the Sambuca. Comedy = tragedy + time.  It's hilarious now, but ten years ago? Not so much.

So here's hoping both of you most excellent Soup readers enjoy a wonderful, and significantly less dramatic, entry into the next decade.

After all, this time around, what could possibly go wrong?

Merry Christmas!

I wish you all a Merry Christmas filled with magical moments and an appreciation for the wonder of this season. Enjoy your time with family and friends and relax over the long weekend. That's what we'll be doing Chez Soup, anyway.

Artwork by the Peezer.

 

Because life's too short for dieting

I received this forwarded email from my friend Alison. I'd love to attribute to its original writer, but alas, I fear this is one of those things that's been forwarded around and around until no one knows where it came from. Still, I've not seen it before and I wanted to share the giggles... turns out my blog pal Mom x2 beat me to the punch! I guess great minds think alike when it comes to:

HOLIDAY EATING TIPS

1. Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet table knows nothing of the Holiday spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.

2. Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. It's rare. You cannot find it any other time of year but now. So drink up! Who cares that it has 1,000 calories per sip? It's not as if you're going to turn into an eggnog-oholic or something. It's a treat. Enjoy it. Have one for me. Have two. It's later than you think. It's Christmas!

3. If something comes with gravy, use it. That's the whole point of gravy. Gravy does not stand alone. Pour it on. Make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.

4. As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made with skim milk or whole milk. If it's skim, pass. Why bother? It's like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission.

5. Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a Holiday party is to eat other people's food for free. Lots of it. Hello?!

6. Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New Year's. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do. This isthe time for long naps, which you'll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and a pint of eggnog.

7. If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don't budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of attention. They're like a beautiful pair of shoes. If you leave them behind, you're never going to see them again.

8. Same for pies. Apple, Pumpkin, Mincemeat. Have a slice of each. Or if you don't like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert? Labor Day?

9. Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it's loaded with lots of celebratory calories, but avoid it at all costs.  I mean, let’s have some standards here...  Something that makes an ideal doorstop simply cannot be qualified as a holiday dessert.

10. One final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven't been paying attention. Re-read tips; start over, but hurry, January is just around the corner. Remember this
motto to live by:

"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate and wine in one hand, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"

'Sno break for the parents!

Oh hi, it's me again.  Just checking in to say, we've been dug out and fairly functional since Monday.  Now, they canceled school and the roads were still dicey, but Metro was operating and Soup Husband Curt stayed home so I could get back to work.  He did all kinds of fun, dadlike things with them, consisting mostly of grazing for food and sledding, then sledding some more, in between running loads of laundry, so that was good.

Then guess what? They canceled school for Tuesday (today), stating the roads and sidewalks were still hazardous. Well, I can attest that the roads are pretty much fine, but the sidewalks are pretty much nonexistent treacherous.So, Bubta and The Boss stayed home for a while today while I ventured into DC and daddy returned to work. Peezer returned to daycare.  I left work early to come home and be with the boys, but Bubta left to go sledding with friends and The Boss went to a friend's house, so.... IT IS SUPER-QUIET HERE NOW. I should be wrapping presents, or trying to buy stamps (they were out at the grocery store and I've no desire to venture to the post office) but I keep spinning around in circles, not knowing quite what to do with myself.

(Well, it would be super-quiet, except that Chuckie the Cat is YELLING at me from the top of the stairs to PLEASE COME FEED ME HAVE YOU LOST ALL TRACK OF TIME, WOMAN? I'M STARVING UP HERE!)

And THEN guess what?  Mid-morning today, the county school system said, ah, what the hell, give 'em the rest of the week off! That's right, people. Winter break officially begins on Thursday, but with the schools closed Monday and Tuesday, I guess they decided not to bother the children with continuing their education for one silly ole' day this week.  And if you're employed by the county schools, you're all, woohoo! But if you're employed elsewhere, and have kids in school, you're all, shit. Because now, I've gotta leave the kids again so I can go work, or call in and work from home (which I did twice last week because one of 'em was sick), or take a full day off (there goes my billability!). Curt took off one day already this week from his brand-new job (did I tell you he got a new job?), so it would not be ideal for him to double-dip.

Now, you know my boys are positively beside themselves with unbridled joy over an extra week of winter vacation. And I know at their age, I would have been super-excited, too. And I want to be excited for them now, but as the card-carrying grown-up here, I'm feeling more than a little bit bah-humbug about these extra no-school days.  Because you know what'll happen is, by the end of next week, they'll be tired of being home and all I'm bored and STOP TOUCHING ME and MOOOOO-OOOM HE PINCHED ME and GAAAH would someone please pass me the Merlot?

Speaking of bah-humbug, I have this awesome collection of Santa figurines that I haven't yet pulled out of the box and placed for display and you know what? I'm thinking I won't do it this year. Because I think I'm the only one who really enjoys it, I'm the one who'll be packing it away again in less than two weeks, and why take 'em out of the box if I'm gonna just have to put 'em away? And yes, I realize that's exactly the kind of thinking that would lead me to never make my bed (why bother? We'll just sleep in it again tonight) or wash my car (it's dirty the minute you leave the carwash), but that is the thinking that I think I'm going to succumb to here very soon.

Furthermore, I realize that these are not really problems. This is just me whining and bitching. I don't know from problems. I get that.  But don't be fooled; I'm actually feeling an extra-value portion of  holiday spirit this year. I've been consciously trying to not drive myself crazy. And in some ways, the break in routine this week has been good for that (canceled parties and rehearsals, and no pressure to shop if your car's submerged under almost two feet of snow in your driveway!).  I'm very much looking forward to a long, quiet holiday weekend, of sharing the moments with our family and friends. Of a glowing fire in the fireplace, some glowing football players on TV, some glowing wine in my glass.

I just have to get through tomorrow.

Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta go feed the cat.

Be careful what you wish for...

....because you might just get 21 inches of snow the weekend before Christmas. Now normally, we would have been 100% bonkers-excited about the prospect of a historic snowstorm here, especially because it's been six years since we had any REAL snow accumulation. But it so happened that yesterday was our friends' son's Bar Mitzvah. Two years of planning and it all came down to a winter storm warning for a crippling snowfall, timed perfectly wrong for our friends.

What happened was, they held the service as planned and postponed the party (scheduled for later today). Driving was dicey, even in our 4x4. The service was sparsely attended. Five inches of snow fell while we were inside, making the drive home even more difficult.  And best of all? We got the Suburban stuck halfway up our driveway - it couldn't clear the foot-plus of snow.

Still, it's beautiful outside. It looks like mounds of powdered sugar are covering everything. The sun is shining this morning, highlighting the brilliant whiteness all around. There are some very grateful birds frequenting our bird feeder (which we'll have to refill soon). The world is mostly closed for business: Church services are canceled and I'm sure the malls will have abbreviated hours today. Still, we're venturing out to party like rock stars with our friends. Word is, the Suburban has just been dislodged from its awkward parking spot. It's on like Donkey Kong, people.

Click here for a photographic sampling of our December 19th.