The Worst Teacher Gift of All? A Vote Off!

But before we get to the main event, I have to, have to, have to show you what Girlfiend from I Like Purging Things sent me!!! First of all, there are some really nice people out there who send gifts to people (me) they don't know! Last year, Jen sent me the Superphat Beagle Owner's Kit and now this:

HA! Isn't that great??? I am so wearing it to school on Friday. I love fun shirts that say stuff. I recently copied Cousineddie and bought one that says "Reading is sexy." (don't tell her) I love how current fashion trends allow me to truly express my nerdiness more succinctly.

Now, onto today's contest. I like to call it "Pick Pig's Putridest Present" or QuadP for short. So here in QuadP, I'd like to offer up a blogging first. An online debate as to which of these gen-yew-ine student gifts is truly the worst. I'd like for you to first consider the categories:

1. Thoughtfulness: What was the student (or parent) really intending for me when they purchased this gift? How much time was spent on the purchase?

2. What does the gift say? Is it saying "I love my teacher and want her to be _____?" or is it saying "What do we have in the closet for Mrs. Pigs?"

3. Everyday practicality: Likelihood that Pigs will be able to use this item in her day to day life. What exactly is its usability?

4. General appearance: Imagine it being opened in class. Think curb appeal. Does it have it?

Bearing these four categories in mind, let's begin the unveiling of this year's Top Three. [Note: some photos taken directly from their future eBay picture.] Oh, and if you're one of the 149 people just reading along and not commenting? Today is your day! Speak your mind! Share your stuff! And let me hear from you once in a while. I need big participation here and this is worth the effort:

Item Number One: The Frock, Part Two

I'm not sure what the deal is with frocks and me, but I seem to attract them like flies to honey. Last time I checked, ponchos went out of style about last January around here, but someone clearly didn't get the memo. Be sure to note the afghan-like fringe. Had I not been so frantic when I left for my trip, I would have certainly regifted this to the Aunt along with her copy of the Frock Calendar 2006. [a big hit, by the way]

Item Number Two: Puffy Head, the Singing....Rat?

Don't think that looking cool is all this little guy does, because he also plays that little keyboard with his light up sticks while singing Carol of the Bells. Yep, he surely does. Don't you look at this little guy and immediately think, [gasp!] "My teacher would love this!" Cause I surely did.

Item Number Three: Attachable Flip Flop Wine Coasters

Ah, yes....flip flop wine coasters for the "foot" of your glass! No worries about getting your wine glass inadvertantly interchanged with a fellow reveler's! No sirree, Bob! Yours has a bejeweled flip flop flanking its bottom! And don't get any big ideas, because the patent is pending on these babies. [Note on packaging: Not real shoes, for decorative use only.]

There are our three contestants! I now place it in your hands, voters, to determine which gift will receive the QuadP Medal of honor this year.

[hush falls over the audience]

Please consider the aforementioned categories carefully: Thoughtfulness, What Does This Gift Say?, Everyday Practicality, and General Appearance. You might also consider a gander at what my reaction was before my entire class as I opened each present before the little pumpkin quivering with excitement at bestowing such a treasure upon me. There were hugs and squeals all around, I promise. I always put on a good show. I can't wait to hear of your responses.

PPR (Pig's Product Reviews)

When is a return no longer a true return? I am increasingly annoyed by McDonald's repeated relaunching of the McRib sandwich. I have personally never eaten one of these divine looking treats, but if they are as fabulous as reputation claims, why are they not just made a regular menu feature? I'm sure it has something to do with creating demand by taking it away, yadda, yadda, but if that's the case, shouldn't this allegedly elusive sandwich remain away for more than a month or so at a time? I know this isn't fact, but I could swear that everytime I read a McDonald's billboard it says, "MCRIB IS BACK!" in bold excited letters. "Again?" I always think. How great can a soggy chunk of ribs on a fast food sandwich bun really be? Apparently, it must be incredible to acheive such remarkable hype.

Okay, that's all about that. I want to share my second product with you. I actually purchased a product solely based on my love of the commercial. You are, of course, aware of my love for the gross and bathroom related humor, right? I love, love the commercial for Mucinex! You know the one with the huge loogey that's running out of a sick person while carrying his luggage? How great is that advertising? I have DVR, but I always pause to watch my little loogey guy run off. Lucky me, I have another cold, courtesy my darlings at school I'm sure. This one's a nice throaty chest choker. I needed me some expectorant and immediately thought of Loog. I haven't had enough time for proper results yet, but will update you with new developments. I will say this: it's beating Robitussin already just by being in pill form. If you know of anything that tastes worse than Robitussin, please share here. I'm dying to know of its competition.

Ahhhhhh...

Ya'll are so nice. I feel much better now. Every now and then I have to read those comments for affirmation that I'm not going crazy. Within the school, all of those issues are treated as perfectly normal events. As someone pointed out, there hasn't really been a zinger since last year's Serve the Parents ordeal. I'm not planning on filing a grievance, but I do plan on at least expressing my disappointment to my administrator. I think that's truly what I am: disappointed. I really thought that in a time of need against something that is so blatantly disrespectful that I would have the support of my principal. It's just sad to find out where someone's priorities really are, and it's painful to witness such insecurity to that extreme of honoring parent's abusive desires over teacher's well-deserved respect. That's all I'm going to say about that.
It's amazing how good it can feel to drive 1200 miles away from that place! We are officially in Podunk, South Carolina: the quietest place on earth. At night you can hear silence; it's the creepiest thing ever, but kinda relaxing. All Gus wants to do it go for walks to explore the woods and pond and to go visit the pack of hunting beagles over the way. His Christmas present from his grandparents was a rather dapper little dog coat that goes over his back like a cape and has reflective strips around the edges. He's a jaunty little beagle in it. It says Augustus across the bottom in a rather magnificent script. I'll have to post a picture when I return to the land of DSL.
I spent all of yesterday sitting on my tookus and today I will spend...sitting on my tookus. Vacation is grand. At least I'm out of the car! I'm not very good at sitting still all those hours. We hurtle through time and space in a possessed effort to beat last year's time (think Griswald's Vacation). This year we made it with only three stops and a total of 16.75 hours: our personal best. I must log off the dial up now and resume my lounging activities. Thanks again for your opinions and reassurances that I'm not crazy. Merry Christmas!

A Banner Day!

Fun day at the zoo! Remember how I parted ways with my Frock the other night at the Christmas party? Well, one of my parents is also on our staff and immensely enjoyed the story of my frock, so she procured me a new one for my present! Could I be more lucky? This one is red hot too:

My favorite part of the new frock is that it came with directions and tips for wearing! I am most partial to number five:

Then, part two...my room mom this year has an off beat sense of humor that I appreciate tremendously. A few weeks ago she (jokingly) emailed my entire class that for Christmas I was registered at mexican fish balls [dot] com. A few confused parent emails later, everyone got the joke and I thought it was over. Until today when I opened my new handmade, creatively constructed Christmas ornament:

You'd think that my day really couldn't get any better when I found out that my special order marshmallow shooter was completed and hand-delivered to my classroom! Shah! Merry Christmas to the Pig!

Gus still finds the shooter extremely suspect. I'm certain that he will appreciate it more when he gets to chase some marshmallows. I'm thinking of ways to incorporate the marshmallow gun into my classroom management system.

On a sour note, one of my nine year olds got suspended for threatening to bring a gun to school and kill everyone on the playground. Eh...gotta take the bad with the good, I suppose. You can't get a marshmallow gun, a frock and a fish ornament all in one day and expect roses, I guess!

Tips From The Pig

After going to Target on the last Saturday before the Christmas weekend, I have a list of suggestions I'd like to put out there.

1. Do not go to Target this week. You must have some very dire, valid reason for putting yourself through this bedlam in order to go to Target. If you left your Christmas shopping to the last minute, then slap a smile on your face and accept your fate. Make the experience something enjoyable. You can always laugh later.

2. Use your manners and a touch of common sense. I am a very friendly stranger. Friends and family sometimes might say a little too friendly of a stranger. I still think that this is better that being a freakin' rude jerkface like most of the fellow shoppers I encountered at Target today. Following, find some sub-rules:
2a. Do not stand around and talk in the middle of the aisle, particularly not the main aisle.
2b. When someone is coming toward you in an aisle, kindly steer your cart to your side.
2c. If another shopper has been waiting on the friendly salesman, wait behind them. Don't bumrush the salesman. Your time is no more important than anyone else's.
2d. The words thank you, excuse me, I'm sorry, and you're welcome go a long way. Try them out.

3. Smile. Tis the season, and all. If someone makes eye contact with you, intentionally or otherwise, smile at them. And gosh darn it, if they smile at you, smile back! This does not have to be an unpleasant experience.

4. Train your children. I know it's Christmas, and yes, they are excited, but this is no reason for them to race up and down crowded aisles with you screaming at them. If by chance, they crash into my cart and feign a wound, please don't glare at me as though that is my fault. An apology wouldn't hurt either. If you can't train your children, then get a tether.

5. Treat employees with kindness. The lines are going to be very, very, very long. This phenomenon should be completely expected, as you waited until the last minute. It is not in any way the fault of the poor cashier. Do you think they want their line to be long? Do you think they want to be ringing up people's last minute Christmas shopping on their Saturday afternoon? I can assure you that they probably do not. I've always heard that you can judge a person by how they treat waitstaff. I think that philosophy applies to any service personnel. Thank them and smile. Ask them how they're doing. This is not flirting, despite what some of my more standoffish friends seem to think.

6. For gosh sakes, put your cart in the cart corral! I had to steer two carts back to the corral out of fear that they would hit my car if I left them there. Plus, it's a nice thing to do. I believe in karma. Think about it.

I Think I Can

I would like to point out that despite the well wishes sent to me by many a friend yesterday wishing me a good last day of school before the holidays, that I am not actually out of school until next Thursday. That's right. Next Thursday, which I will be spending 18 hours of in a packed out car of gifts, dog, car top carrier, and loads of Christmas cheer. Did I mention that it's 18 hours? I digress.
This extended school year is starting to take quite a toll on the kids. After three straight days of testing, they're a little, um....insane, I believe would be the word. Manic. Somewhat disturbed. Recess yesterday illustrated this point beautifully. [Note: This is the most atypical group of 4th graders that I have ever worked with. They act like they are in middle school already and it's only December. If you are the parent of a fourth grader, do not be alarmed.]
This is a tale filled with bad language, violence, and hormone-laden emotions. If you are offended by any of the above mentioned descriptors, read no further.
My teammate and I were monitoring recess as usual, keeping an eye on the kids, but chatting together. Since we have already banned football, tackle games, and general frivolity, this job is usually quite relaxing. On this day, we were bombarded with angsty student after angsty student with something to share.

Me: So, I think we'll probably just finish wrapping gifts and start-
Mr. Owens: You're retarded!!
Sidekick: YOU'RE RETARDEDER!!! [shove]
Me: [sigh, walk] Guys, play nice or don't play.
Mr. Owens: But he-
Sidekick: He said!
Me: Okay, don't play. [shrugged]

The boys continued the debate over which of them was what degree of retarded. I briefly considered explaining that retardeder was not really a word, and suggesting that they check their handy thesaurus for a stronger word choice when-

Weenie Boy: Mrs! She punched me in the nose! [grasping nose desperately]
Me: Why? [inspecting uninjured nose]
Weenie Boy: She said that she got to be the vampire slayer, not me and then she punched me!
Me: So I guess she is the vampire slayer then, huh?
Weenie Boy: Yeah. [sniff] I guess.
Me: I wouldn't play with girls who hit me. Go play somewhere else. You're okay.

I again attempted to resume my adult conversation.

Me: So anyway, we have to get completely packed and cleaned up this weekend, -

My eye caught an F-bomb dropping in the making. The tetherball swung dangerously out of reach and Punk reached for it desperately, an F-bomb forming on his lips when he caught my eye.

Punk: Ffffffffffffff-uh-ART! Fart! [glanced nervously at me] Fart. [shoved hands in pockets and trudged off court.]

I stifled a giggle. My teammate was already turned around the other way, trying to hide her laughter. Shooting him my most stern "That better have been what you were going to say" Look, I continued my watchful sentry. I noticed Mr. Owens and Sidekick having a heated discussion. There were flailing arms and tears. "Let's go watch," I said to my teammate. We walked closer.

Sidekick: Well, you didn't have to SAY it!
Mr. Owens: All I said was that you needed a face mask. You said you were cold. [furtive glance at his new audience] I was just trying to help.
Sidekick: You said the face mask was to cover my ugly FACE!
Mr. Owens: Well, technically....um....yeah. But you DID say you were cold.
Sidekick: [dramatically, not unlike a girl] We used to be best friends and now it's come to THIS!
Teammate: [nudges me] Is he a girl?
Me: Kinda. Keep watching.
Sidekick threw himself to the ground in hormonal agony and commenced sobbing. Mr. Owens shrugged his shoulders and walked away.
Teammate: I think he just got dumped.

We giggled quietly, gave Sidekick a little pep talk and resumed our stroll. As we neared the tetherball poles again, a massive burly figure charged toward me, panting and fuming. It was clear something had angered the Beast. I tuned in.

Beast: Mrs! John just said "shut the hell up!" He said hell! He said hell!
Me: Whoa! You just said it three times! Does that make it better?
Beast: I was just telling you that HE said "shut the hell up!"
Me: That's four.
Beast: Mrs! But! He said...he! Argh! [threw self on ground in angry heap and punched grass]
Me: Beast, I appreciate you doing the right thing and reporting bad language, but do you really think I wanted to hear you say it too?
Beast: It's nooooooooooot faaaaaaaiiiiiirrrrrr! It's always my fault! [sob] I can't - hic - do anything ri-igh-igh-ght! [wailing and tears are to be inferred henceforth]
Me: [stare]
Beast: [hiccup, wipe face, stand back up to full 5'7 height] Are you gonna kick John out for saying hell?

Seriously, do they never learn? If my boys are this hormonal and emotional in December, what are they going to be like in April? It was like a freak show out there! I've got to maintain my sense of humor, or I will go down with them. I cannot succumb to this insanity. Three more days. I think I can, I think I can....

Multi-tasking

Today my kids took a big end of quarter test. You know what I did? I did my report cards, graded a million papers, got a flu shot, cleaned my classroom, talked to my foot lawyer, got lunch, negotiated briefly but frequently with Mr. Owens, wrote lesson plans for after Christmas and got to use email freely. It was quite a nice day.

Funny thing about the lawyer. It turns out that the insurance company has completed their investigation regarding my event and found that "there is no evidence of negligence on behalf of our insured, La Bamba Mexican Restaurant, to constitute liability in this matter."

Hee! They must have overlooked the shattered porcelain sink which fell off of their wall and landed on my foot. Allow me to refresh your memory:



Definitely no negligence there. They are being kind enough to pay my medical bills, but have refused to cover my (really cute, hard to find, Kenneth Cole) sandals unless I can produce a receipt. Please tell me who saves shoe receipts? I guess I'd better start saving in case anything else falls on me. It's nice to know, though, that they regret that they cannot assist me with my lost tennis fees or my lost wages. At least they regret it. That sentiment really goes a long way in making me feel better.

When I was 16, a man hit my car in an ice storm. I had some minor whiplash, but that was about it. I received $500 in pain and suffering for my injuries, no questions asked. [Sidenote: My dad only let me keep $100 and put the rest in my college fund. He said I only did $100 worth of pain and suffering, but I digress.] But this?? A SINK fell off the WALL and SMASHED my foot while I was innocently practicing good hygiene before dining in their restaurant. No dice.

No wonder people sue one another. I never understood it before.

So.

The other day my husband leans over Gus and me like he's going to give us a nice hug or something. Instead, he smells me. Then he smells the dog.
Me: What are ya doin??
Him: Trying to figure out which of you smells.

BAH!

Mah-waige! It'sh what bwings ush togevah today! A bwessed event-ah. A dweam wiffin a dweam...

Just for the Record:

I am a culinary marvel. In just 2.5 hours on Sunday, I managed to crank out 10 plates of holiday treats for my colleagues' Christmas gifts. (Yes, I'm a huge wimp and I'm still giving one to the horrific secretary, despite my earlier Scary Threat.) These super-pretty plates contain:

*Peanut Butter Balls (and one set of Buckeyes for my Ohio friend)
*7 Layer Goodness
*Powdered Sugar covered Nutty Fingers
*Sugar Cookies with icing and sprinkles
*Fudge
*Puppy Chow
*Butterscotch Haystacks



I'm simply gifted. What can I say? And modest. Clearly, very modest.

This Just In...

THE ARCTIC BLAST TAKES NORTH TEXAS BY STORM!!Next on news at nine.

Yeah, so we got a glazing of ice! Crazy, huh? But is all this drama really necessary? I think the news media has gotten out of control. It's not just Texas either, we had this in NC where panic over snow also triggered instant bread and milk shortages in all grocery stores. If I wrote the news, I think I would focus on a slightly different angle. I would go with:

[deep news voice] DO YOU HAVE A CONFUSED THERMOSTAT? This week's temperature spread has many North Texans confused! 90 degrees on Saturday and 11 degrees tomorrow? You must be kidding, Bob! Will we see snow? Stay tuned after the break.

Instead, we get 9 hours of news coverage detailing the ice slick on the expressway. We get to watch Media Mark outside bundled up in layers, scarf flying threateningly around his head, scuff his shoe back and forth over the alleged ice slick to illustrate JUST HOW SLICK it really is, Bob! We get to see zoomed in close ups of the layer of ice coating the one grass blade in North Texas that it adhered to. For. Nine. Hours. It's just as bad as the idiot who deliberately enters the Category 4 hurricane winds to show us that - guess what guys? - it's really windy out there. You should probably stay safely in your home.

It's things like these that make me miss an episode of Days of Our Lives. Therein lies the true problem. Unacceptable. But we did get a two hour delay, in case you're wondering. And that, my friends, is the gift that keeps on giving. No make up days, a sleep in, and a short day. Happy Pig.

It's Always Tuesday

I may as well preface this with my mood: crankysnarktastic. I really didn't start out like this, I am unsure how I became such a grump. (or why I'm always writing in such a grumpy mood; I guess it's venting) I woke up feeling awake! As in, not tired! This in itself was unusual and got me all the way out of bed and into the shower without incident. It was after that that my day went downhill.

While in shower, I realized that a) soap was down to pathetic slivers, and b) legs were excessively hairy. Did not have time or proper amount of heat to shave them. Knew that if I did shave them, my strange fall allergies would just cause me to sneeze and the hair would just grow back anyway, so what would be point? Did not shave. Proceeded to wear compulsively planned out Tuesday outfit - OH! NO WONDER! It's Tuesday. Well, no wonder this day was such a stinkfest. Duh - which consisted of lined pants. Lining which catches on hairy legs all day.

On the way to school, I realized I was coasting on fumes and should probably stop for gas. Fortunately, by not shaving my legs, I had time to do this deed. Pulled up to pump, got out, opened tank, went to push button and....this pump is not in service at this time....thank you.....of course it's not. Return nozzle, close tank, back in car, drive around to new pump. While pumping gas, legs raised into wicked goosebumps and leg hair nearly tore pant lining. When going to pay for gas, enjoy cheerful serenade from rusty truck 'o men: "OooooWooooooWooooooo! Chica bonita! Ayeeeeee!" Smile politely and bust a move out of there.

Upon arriving to school, I perused my email inbox for a moment, clicking on a few messages from parents. I do not, cannot, will not understand or accept from people the inability to write certain words correctly. There have been recent posts on Meredith's blog and on the MAN's blog regarding unacceptable grammar errors from adults. I would like to submit my own here: [clear throat]

SUPPOSABLY. It's not a word. It's really, really not a word. Think about it. It's not appropriate in conversation and is even more offensive when written. Also...

Was Billy SUPPOSE to be going to tutoring? No, Billy wasn't supposed to be going to tutoring, but perhaps you should. Look it up.

Gah! Burns my biscuits. So then up pops an email from my principal. Turns out, I missed our team leader meeting. Our alleged team leader meeting. Our alleged team leader meeting which was listed on our weekly calendar which - ping! - popped up in my inbox after the aforementioned message. My principal told me that she got her calendar yesterday from my Favorite Secretary in the World. I had to physically show her the date and time which I received my message on my computer and I really, really think she's still mad. Or maybe she's mad at herself for not letting us know when the meeting was. I was apparently not the only no-show. I gotta let that go 'cause there's not a thing in the world I can do to read somebody's mind. I'm quite the rule follower and very much the pleaser, but mind reading? Just can't do it. Don't have time today.

Then let's talk about random parents coming to me to complain about other teachers on my team which is a) none of my business, b) extremely rude of them, and c) kinda stupid if they have any clue what a gossip I am. There are just so many people in this world who genuinely believe that the rules apply to everyone but them. For instance, it's critical to punish everyone else's kids if they break a rule, but if their little darling breaks a rule, then wait! Wait! Please don't punish them...it was my fault, erm...yeah! I left their homework on the table. It was my responsibility to put it in their folder and I forgot. You understand, don't you? Don't you? Vomit on a cracker.

And finally, I caught wind that our faculty Christmas party is going to involve both a DJ and dancing. [Deep cleansing breath, eyes closed] I am troubled, troubled at this prospect. I'm going to take the number of teachers who wear clothing adorned with apples and multiply the consistently high nerd factor of our staff and divide that by the number of women who snort when they laugh, and....and I'm going to keep my eyes closed. Except for when I'm clandestinely videotaping. Heh.

I'm going to end on a positive note.
1. I love the new Nabisco 100 calorie snack packs. Except that I have to eat four of them to get my fill.
2. Also? I adore air duster. I think I may be obsessed with the ability to get dog hair, crumbs, and general filth out of my keyboard. It's better than popping a zit.
3. I'll close with a tattle at recess today:

Joey: "Mrs?! Mrs?! Pete just said a cuss at me! He said a cuss! At tetherball!"
Slow Processing Pete: "I! I! You're always trying to - I! Hey! I didn't SUCK!"
Joey: [stares]
Me: [stare]
Colleague: [collapses in uncontrollable giggles]
Joey: I told you he cussed.
Slow Processing Pete: [head hung in shame] I didn't mean to say suck again.

Ahhhhhhhhh.....

Well, pulling off dessert for 24 was fairly successful. We had way too much food and lots of fun, so I guess that's a good thing, right? I made the aforementioned cheesecake brownies and they tasted a lot better than they looked (recipe at bottom for those who requested. Will be bringing extras to work Monday).
I was wearing a great deal of the batter by the time I finished cooking, but they came out pretty tasty nonetheless. The husband spent much of the day waiting for me to finish cooking so he could "thoroughly" clean the kitchen. (My cleaning prowess is lacking, as I favor a technique my family refers to as snake killing. Cleaning like you're killing snakes is a little known and less favored practice which emphasizes speed and completion more than precision and, well, sanitation.) Once I finally completed my culinary tasks, the husband moved in to take over the cleaning process. Unfortunately, we experienced a slight setback when the husband began cleaning with such vigor that he somehow knocked not one, but two bottles of wine out of the wine rack on the counter and directly onto the ceramic tile where they promptly shattered and splattered. To keep my PG rating, I will edit and translate the husband's exact words following the debacle which left my kitchen smelling like a vineyard. It went a little something like this: "Dirty darn! There's glass and wine everywhere! Rats! Won't you please help me tidy up, my loving wife? Oops! It looks like I chipped one of the tiles. Shoot. Darling, won't you please pass the towels over here? Thanks, sweetie pie. I certainly do hope this red wine won't stain the grout. That would be most unfortunate. Let's clean it up quickly now, dear!" It was really almost just like that. Honest.

Brownie Cheesecake Recipe:
1 pkg. brownie mix 1 cup sugar
4 pkgs cream cheese 1 tsp. vanilla
1/2 cup sour cream 3 eggs
4 squares semi-sweet baking chocolate

Preheat oven to 350. Line 9X13 pan with foil, spray with cooking spray. Prepare brownie batter as the directions on the box say and pour into pan. Bake for about 15 minutes. Beat cream cheese, sugar and vanilla on medium speed. Add sour cream, then eggs, one at a time. Pour over partially baked brownie. Bake 40 minutes or until center is almost set. Cool. Refrigerate 4 hours. Drizzle with melted baking chocolate (I made a mess and had to spread mine) and cut into squares. Store in refrigerator. Yum-may!

Time, time, there's never enough.

I am an absolutely amazing singer in the shower and the car when accompanied by some of today's most talented artists. Particularly Mariah Carey and Kelly Clarkson. We can really wail together. Except for I've had a touch of laryngitis this week. I wish I could do an audiopost of how I sound "singing" Because of You in my psuedo croaky voice that disappears on anything higher than a man note. That was the disappointing way in which I began my day yesterday. I also couldn't figure out what to wear and forgot to pluck my eyebrows. I should have just stayed home.
But now it is Saturday and I am stressed on a whole new level. I have to have my house cleaned, properly decorated, and organized before 4:00. I have to make fudge, a pound cake, and some cheesecake brownies, then locate plates and seating for 24. So what am I doing? Writing a blog post! Must run.