Bigger Matzoh Balls - Not Always Better

So for Rosh Hashanah, we went to one place one night and another place the second night. You pretty much always know what you're getting for Rosh Hashanah dinner and it usually involves turkey and stringbeans in one form or another.

And gefilte fish and chopped liver. And matzoh ball soup. Yum-o.

I'm going to be diplomatic here.

The first night, we had matzoh ball soup in which the balls weren't so big, but they were full of flavor and light and fluffly.

The second night, we had more matzoh ball soup at our second location. The balls were bigger, but more dense and dry inside. And lacking that matzoh ball flavor I have come to love.

I was disappointed. But at least there was Carvel ice cream cake for dessert the second night.

Sometimes I'm Shy

So I attended my first all-staff meeting at my new company. The one from last month was canceled. I can't believe I've been here two months already.

I was so nervous because I hate being singled out in front of big groups of people and I just knew my boss was going to say something about me being new. Thankfully a guy just started today, so I knew I wouldn't be the only one.

So the new guy's boss got a chance to introduce him first, and the president of the company said that he wouldn't make the guy do an interpretive dance in front of everyone since it was only his first day.

Cue my boss, who then introduces me, and says that I've been here long enough to actually do an interpretive dance. I was so embarrassed.

No, I didn't do the dance. I'm lame.

You Know What's Awesome? Spinach and Feta Cakes

Oh. My. Gah.

On the advice of my sister-in-law T, I went to this new spot by my house, The Gourmet Girls. This little gem is tucked away in an industrial park and might go unnoticed save for the billions of signs in the area pointing toward it. Those Gourmet Girls really know how to advertise.

And I mean to tell you, their food is fabulous. T has been there a few times, since my nephew's day care is across the street. She said she has never had a bad thing from there. And being that T is an incredible cook and well-read in all things food, I tended to believe her.

So off I went on Saturday. It seems like their prepared foods case changes daily, as the dishes T described to me weren't there. I grabbed some ziti, chicken fingers, and one of the aforementioned spinach and feta cakes.

The chicken fingers were for my husband, so I didn't get to try any of them but he said they were good. The ziti, in a homemade tomato sauce with meat, was fantastic.

But that spinach and feta cake...I can't stop thinking about it. About the size of a good-size crab cake, the spinach and feta cake was filled with, you guessed it, spinach and feta. And some onion for flavor. And pepper. I heated that bad boy up and inhaled the thing.

I only hope next time I go back they're there.

As an aside, the shop has reasonably priced food and a huge menu of sandwiches, two of which T has tried and proclaimed awesome. So there you go. I've given my props for the day. Whew.

This One's For You, Radish

Yeah, yeah. I haven't been updating my blog. Blah blah.

The truth is that I think about it all the time and yet I feel like I have nothing interesting to say.

Even though I'm very interesting. Or so I think.

My new job is going well. I feel like I actually know what I'm doing. You know how sometimes you start a job and you have to fake it a lot of the time until you actually get the hang of things? Not the case here. It's a good feeling!

I'm going to leave you with this for now, but I promise to be better about updating. It's hard to do when I get home from work since it's pretty late. I vow to you, my readers, that I will update during the day from now on.

I'm giving a shout-out to my sister, who is going on her honeymoon this weekend!! She's taking a cruise, leaving from Baltimore, up north. It sounds fabulous and I'm sure she and Dave will have a great time. Word.

The Garbageman Always Dumps Twice

So trash day in our neighborhood is Tuesday. We go through phases where we forget to put the trashcans on the curb, and we have to wait a whole week. This usually sucks because we tend to fill the cans pretty quickly and sometimes we have to sit on the damn lids to make them stay shut.

But we also go through phases where we're very conscientious about taking the trash to the curb, so we only have to put one of our three cans up there. Keep in mind our driveway is long and steep, and this is quite the chore.

For some reason, the moment we moved into the house - well I should say the moment Brian moved in and I slowly moved my shit in - the garbagemen have had a thing against us. We can't figure it out. There have been times where they haven't taken all of our trash, and there have been times when they will throw our cans in opposite directions so we have to run through the bushes to gather them all. I even had to go so far as to call the trash supervisor in the county to ask why the guys wouldn't take our recycling - he didn't have a clue and ended up coming around and taking it himself.

This past Tuesday was no exception. I heard the guys' truck pretty early that morning, and didn't think anything of it. I left the house as usual to get in my car and go to work. Doo doo doo, drive up the driveway, la la la.

I'm driving, driving, driving backwards up my steep driveway...when all of a sudden I have to slam on my brakes. There, at the top of the hill, smack dab in the middle of my driving path, is the lone trashcan we set atop the curb for pickup. Sure, the trash was all gone, but dammit, why did they put it in the middle of the driveway? Is this a joke they play on some poor family on every street they drive down? And we only had one can up there! We felt like we were doing them a favor by giving them less work to do at our house.

As I drove down my street, after getting out of the car to throw the can out of my way, I noticed that all the other houses' trashcans were set neatly next to the driveways. Ours was the only one that seemed to be defiantly placed in the center of the driveway. I cannot, cannot, cannot figure out what we did to offend these guys.

I'm thinking we need to get them some beer this year for the holidays. Because there' s nothing like a little drinking and trash truck driving.

I'm Baaaaack

And I have an important question.

I graduated college in 1998. You know, a time before cell phones were really mainstream.

So how the FUCK did booty calls work back then??

Now This Is Just Obscene

I absolutely love listening to the Top 40 countdown on Sunday mornings. I don't care if I seem too old to still be doing that. Listening to Casey Kasem - and now cheesehead Ryan Seacrest - count down the top 40 biggest hits from coast to coast every Sunday morning is like THE ultimate vanilla pudding for my soul.

So I was innocently listening to the countdown yesterday morning while getting ready to leave my house. One of those stupid Axe commercials came on. Now, I have never smelled anyone who has worn the stuff, but if you believe the commercials, the scent will make any woman within 100 miles want to rub their vagina all over the man who has sprayed the deodorant (is that what it is?) on.

That's cool, I guess. If you're out in the dating scene, it probably can't hurt, right?

So the commercial is talking about how Axe will make men want to grunt or something, and women want to get shocked. Uh, come again? Shocked? Last time I checked, a woman who got shocked had a finger stuck up her butt during a certain something something. I normally don't talk like this because I am a lady, but I've heard it referred to as 'two in the pink and one in the stink.'

If that offends anyone, that's your problem.

I couldn't believe my ears. This was on Sunday morning radio. I have half a mind to write to these Axe promotors and give them a piece of my mind. Because that is just brilliant fucking marketing.