{Almost} Wordless...um...Thursday

To give you a break from all my blogging about cake, I give you Wordless Wednesday.

On Thursday.

Presenting....The Cake

Drum roll, please.



I didn't get a good shot of a slice showing all the gooey filling, since my "birthday girl" piece was an end piece with all the icing.

So imagine all that chocolate buttercream covering yellow cake with actual fudge marbled in (not just chocolate cake--fudge, people) and two fillings: strawberry, and a chocolate custard filling.

Do you understand the importance of the countdown now?

This is why I jog, friends. Because I get this excited over food.

In other news, I did not get the one thing I asked Wiggle Man to give me for my birthday--the word "Mommy." No, his ever-growing vocabulary, which includes "cake" (he means pancakes, not the sugary goodness pictured above), and "Pop" (meaning Pop-Pop, or yogurt pop, depending on the context), still does not include Mommy.

I did get a sweet Willow Tree, though, and the faceless boy and his faceless mommy look remarkably like my Wiggle Man and me, so I'm happy.

My Button

Dudes, I made a button for my blog!

It's not the most fabulous button you'll ever see, and I'll probably change it in the next week or so when I get a little more adventurous. And skilled. But, seriously, it took me a while just to make that teeny little button you see on the right. (Note: I've already changed it once since I put it up, and may again, who knows?)

The point of the button? To take you to the post where my songs are. I've got a couple of more I'd like to add in the next month, so stay tuned!

And, it's 7 hours and 50 minutes until cake. In case you were counting.

This Is It!

This is the last full day I will spend as a twenty-something. Tomorrow, around mid-morning, I become a thirty-something.

Whoa.

I've mentioned before that I'm ok with the whole "Big 3-0" thing. I really am. I mean, Hubba Hubba passed that threshold three years ago. So, being married to a thirty-something, and being a thirty-something can't be that different, can they?

Can they?

At any rate, I get cake. Yummy, marble cake with strawberry filling and a chocolate buttercream icing. Or frosting, if you insist on calling it that. Whatever it is, it's super delicious.
And, if Hubba Hubba was smart, the cake will read something like this:

Happy Birthday to my darling wife, the most beautiful-est, special-est woman there is.

You know, if they can fit all that on the cake.

Friday Peevishness

Every once and a while, I like to list some things that drive me nuts. Like, you know, gravity. I find it very therapeutic. Maybe these aren't things that bother you. Maybe you do these things yourself. (Don't worry--I'd still be your friend. I'd just make faces at you when the need arose.)

Irregardless of where you stand, I present my Friday Peeves:

• The word irregardless. It makes no sense.
• Drivers who refuse to merge when told their lane is ending. Come on, people. If we all wait until the very last second to merge, we end up with a mile-long back up. Like last night.
• Drivers in a roundabout who yield to the people entering the roundabout. In addition to the fact that this makes no sense, there's the whole issue of the road signs.
• People who do not flush. Public washrooms or otherwise. I don't want to have to flush for you.
• Having my personal space invaded in salad bars. I'm going as fast as I can, I promise.
• Drunk screaming guys (or gals) at ball games. The likelihood of Charlie Manuel heeding your advice does not increase with the volume of your voice, of the number of offensive words you choose to use.

I feel better already. Don't you? If you'd like to get something off your chest, feel free to leave it in the comments. Unless, of course, one of your peeves is people who list their peeves.

Wordless Wednesday

Trippin'

Well, if you read my last post, you know that we spent part of last week in Virginia. Rather than share the details of our trip, I thought I'd give you more of a visual:

Ok, so we spent a lot of time at a playground. And a small carnival. But most of those pictures aren't flattering. To me. So you only get to see the one of me and Wiggle on the slide.

The combination of our top-secret, confidential purposes there (insert evil laugh) and Wiggle Man's nap schedule meant we didn't do a lot of tourist-y things, but we still had an amazing time.

Plus, we learned what "cloth bologna" is. It's bologna. But it tastes less bologna-y than regular bologna. Don't ask me why.