Monday, April 30, 2007

The Gift of the Magi and Other Communication Disasters

Does The Gift of the Magi drive anyone else crazy? In the classic tale by O. Henry, Jim and Della are a newlywed couple who have no money to spend on gifts at Christmas. Jim sells his treasured watch to buy decorative combs for Della’s hair, and Della sells her beautiful hair to buy a special watch chain for Jim. This is supposed to be a tale of sacrifice, and how much they loved each other.

To me, it seems like they had a communications breakdown. One presumes that Della’s hair was admired by Jim, and Jim’s heirloom watch was valued by Della too. So, they got rid of something that was meaningful to the other partner. Did they have to buy something of material value in order to feel important, or could they have instead enjoyed a dream of their future as a gift instead?

Yes, yes, I know the whole point about the “wisdom of the magi” and how blessed Jim and Della are, and it’s a very sweet story. But is it too much to ask for them talk to each other?

A worse version is the “Magi”- inspired episode of “Little House on the Prairie” (the TV show, not the books), where Pa spends a ton of effort making wagon wheels to sell to buy a saddle for Laura’s horse, and Laura sells her horse to buy a stove for Ma. There were a lot of other convolutions in the story, but the characters actually come off as selfish, because they are unnecessarily sacrificing, almost as if it’s to gain attention.

There is joy in giving. So why doesn’t Laura let her whole family share in the joy of giving Ma the stove? Everyone could pitch in, make small sacrifices together, prepare for the surprise and make the gift as a loving family. Instead, she secretly sells the horse and gets the sole credit. This episode really annoys my mom too.

It can be very noble to give up something that’s meaningful to you in order to care for someone else. Just choose wisely. And talk to each other.

Last month, Rugger Mom sent Q some delightfully illustrated books from Australia by Mem Fox. The pictures are gorgeous and Q loves to page through them, examining each lavishly detailed drawing.

There is one tale that reminds me of the Magi (really, this does tie together somehow). In the story, Koala Lou’s mommy koala used to say, “I love you” all the time, but with all the new little brothers and sisters, Koala Lou doesn’t get much attention any more. So Koala Lou decides to train for the Olympics, figuring that if she wins, her mother will say she loves her. She races, she loses, she comes home crying, and her mother says, “I love you.” Huh.

I recognize that I’m over-interpreting, but it drives me nuts. Mother Koala, tell your baby you love her, and Koala Lou, ask your mother for a hug! (Please don't be offended, RuggerMom. We love the book because Q adores the pictures, and I get to say “I love you” lots and lots while reading it out loud.)

I’m unable to come up with a clever ending that summarizes the whole post (since these days, my friends who cut off their hair are donating it to make wigs for children with cancer, instead of selling it for cash), but I’ll put in a plug for talking to those you love.

If you are worried, if you need help, please say something. It can be hard to do, but communication is really, really important.

Sunday, April 29, 2007

Perhaps Netflix's Favorite Customer

It took me over two months to get around to watching The Devil Wears Prada, making the folks behind Netflix's business model very happy, I'm sure.

I used to think that if SwingDaddy and I each watched one movie per month, we were coming out ahead. We have the $16/month subscription plan, and two tickets at the theater certainly cost that much.

These days, between the increasing cost of movie tickets, some popcorn, and above all, babysitting, we're ahead if we watch two Netflix movies a year.

For the record, The Devil Wears Prada was terrific, and made me want to get my eyebrows shaped. And we watched Nanny McPhee this week, so we're totally on top of our Netflix game again. Written by and starring Emma Thompson, the Oscar-winning actress (Remains of the Day) and screenwriter (Sense and Sensibility), Nanny McPhee is a Victorianesque fairy tale about a father (Colin Firth) and his seven naughty children.

We listened to Emma's commentary, and I'm blown away by how witty and entertaining she is, just in ongoing conversation. She's definitely on the list of dream dinner party guests.

I remember reading her stories about the filming of Sense and Sensibility, Ang Lee's first English language picture. They were having trouble with the "vintage" sheep, a breed of animal that was selected for its appearance like sheep of the early 1800's, but so helpless that the poor creatures were unable to stand up by themselves, once they'd fallen over. Ang muttered, "Never again sheeps."

And of course, he went on to film and win an Oscar for Brokeback Mountain (which featured the leading men working as shepherds). Never say never!

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Pee in the Potty

And also on the potty, and near the potty, and so forth. But, actual pee in the potty. It's a banner day!

Q has been particularly squirrelly about having his diaper changed lately, so when he refused to let me change him this morning, I asked if he wanted to go on the potty. He said yes, so I let him walk to the bathroom. Lo and behold, while I was putting some towels away, he piped up, "Messy, mama!"

I was so surprised that I didn't have a potty-training strategy in place, with sticker charts, M&M bribes, or anything. "Good job, Q! What a big boy!" I gave him more praise, but he didn't see what the big deal was. He just wanted to get on helping me wipe up the floor with a paper towel.

Maybe it will happen again some day.

In other news, I made a trip to Target today to pick up some soap, so I stopped by the handbag department. No ruffled purse. All gone. Oh well, I tell myself that if I'd really, really wanted it, I would have paid full price instead of waiting for the third round sale.

Friday, April 27, 2007

7 Things To Do Before the Baby Arrives

1) Install dimmers on the light switch of the nursery, so that the baby isn't awakened by bright lights.

2) Oil hinges, so that the baby isn't awakened by squeaky doors.

3) Take up weight lifting to prepare upper body for hauling baby and baby gear.

4) Learn three different ways to sterilize pacifiers, which you will do religiously for two weeks before figuring out the kid will be fine.

5) Find stroller friendly paths to the supermarket.

6) Locate a 24-hour pharmacy near your house.

And most importantly for a blogger,

7) Reset your passwords to remove characters that require the shift key. You'll be holding the baby with one arm, so you'll need to be able to type with just the other hand.

In honor of Liz, Christina, and Tammie's virtual baby shower! (Ladies - I know you are pros who know this stuff already, but maybe there are some first-timers reading.)

Thursday, April 26, 2007

In Need of a Laugh?

Tired and a bit frustrated with work. At least I should be able to get some sleep tonight! In the meantime, a bit of animated silliness.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Too Many Late Nights

Our little troubadour.

Just a picture post tonight – third night in a row working late.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

That's My Boy!

SwingDaddy and I thought Q looked more like me as a baby, but now it's clear he's a mix of both of us. He has eyes like mine, but long curly eyelashes like his dad. Hands like mine, ears like SwingDaddy's.

He's inherited distinct behaviors too. He drinks huge cupfuls of milk and juice – capacity like his dad, since I think I've finished a can of Coke exactly once in my life. He loves music and dance, like us both.

Last weekend, Q got a smudge of jam on his fingers and wiggled them at us, "Sticky! Wipe Hands!"

SwingDaddy says, "That's all you."

Fastidious. That's my boy!

Monday, April 23, 2007

The Cash Fairy Visits

Have you ever pulled out your wallet to check if you have enough money for lunch and found an extra twenty there, instead of the four dollars you remembered having? Well, you may have been visited by the Cash Fairy.

SwingDaddy and I have a few goofy in-jokes, and this is one. When either of us goes to the ATM, we quietly put money in the other person's wallet too. Happy surprise! Other friends have commented that they are more familiar with the Cash Gremlin, who eats the cash in their household.

Yes, the picture is unrelated to the post, but I like it anyway.

Sunday, April 22, 2007

The Purse That Might Get Away

Hello Target fans, here's my dilemma. There's this purse that I think is really cute. The problem? It's not particularly practical. It's covered in ruffles, has no way to sling it over my shoulder and have both hands free to wrestle a toddler, only a little ribbon to tie it closed, and it's not even red, which is my color of preference if I'm going to get something with low functional value.

Admired Purse was $16.99 for months, before it was marked down to $11.88 last week. I checked again this weekend, and it's $8.48. If you remember from earlier posts though, this won't be the final sale price. The lowest price at Target will end in a "4," before they take the item off the shelves. So I didn't buy it.

The question is, am I actually spending more money by returning to Target and potentially picking up more items that aren't strictly necessary than I would have if I'd gotten the purse in the first place? I have a clear conscience this week, because I came home with boxes of tissues to take care of the snot factory. Not sure what I can promise about future trips.

I just really hope that the price ends in a "4" or they're all gone next week, so that we can be done with this adventure!

Saturday, April 21, 2007

Visiting the Snot Factory

The little dude is feeling much better; thanks for your kind comments. His nose was pretty drippy this morning, but had mostly cleared up by afternoon.

I've been incredibly delinquent in writing thank you notes for his splendid birthday gifts, so Q and I set to work this rainy afternoon. I made a sketchy attempt at drawing the gifts in each card while he did his best to seize both crayons and cards. Next, Q embellished and colored each one to his satisfaction. My art is better expressed in dance than in crayons, that's for certain, but I think we'll have a forgiving audience.


We made a family trek to the Guitar Center today, where the kiddo blissed out among the drums and guitars. Even better than a trip to the zoo, especially in the rain.

Can I just say that the fish are totally stressing me out? SwingDaddy says that fish are supposed to be soothing, but that's not happening for me. I keep looking at them, counting that all three are moving, and looking at the droopy one at the bottom of their habitat. We've kept them alive for nine days. What is the lifespan of a goldfish? Judging by your comments, they've already outlived most of your fishy pets.

Thursday, April 19, 2007

NOOOO, Not Again!

We're back from the ER. Croup again. Q had it twice in February, so two weeks ago, we met with an Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist, who believes that it's nothing serious. However, he'll have mild illnesses present themselves as croup more easily than most, until he outgrows it in a few years.

We went into the ER with a sobbing, wheezing little boy. After the regular regimen of meds, he was chattering away happily, asking about all the switches and dials on the equipment, and giggling at my attempts to amuse him with dance sequences. I ran all our current troupe choreographies for his approval.

The hospital was busy tonight, so we were stationed in a large ward with many patients separated by curtains. As a reminder how all trouble is relative, we overheard a doctor informing a very obese woman who'd also arrived with breathing problems that he was sorry to have to bring harsh news, but she was going to have to stop smoking, stop drinking, and lose weight if she didn't want to spend her days coming in and out of the hospital. She was also uninsured. SwingDaddy and I hugged Q and were grateful that he was in better condition.

It's been a really long couple of days at work, getting ready for a big product concept review next week, and I was counting on tonight to get a lot of work done. Or at least get some sleep. Instead, we spent three hours in the ER, reading Dr. Seuss and talking to Dr. C.

I wouldn't say that it was exactly quality family time, but Q did get pretty perky after the epinephrine and lavished us with hugs and snuggles. I still get teary eyed when he gives me a big hug. Is that too sappy?

Hopefully, he'll be feeling good tomorrow.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Drumming Surfaces of Our Household

When you're a drummer at heart, everything looks like a drum. Some are official drums, like this gift from Little Rugger.

If you turn a plastic storage bin upside down and grab some toy shovels, they'll do in a pinch.

In fact, you can rig a pretty nifty setup with many drums at once!

We can also move along to big pots and spatulas.

And of course, pot lid cymbals.

The steamer pot has some major reverb.

So, we try to stuff Mazur Bear inside to dampen some of the sound when Q isn't looking.

The best thing about having a drum pot is that when you're done being musical, you can turn it upside down and add rice. . .

and vegetables to make a satisfying meal.

Let's just say that if there are any evil spirits around our house, they are soooo banished.

Did Tolkien Love Watermelon Too?

I've been eagerly awaiting the last Harry Potter book, but didn't realize that the last J.R.R. Tolkien book was due this year too, illustrated by the wonderful Alan Lee.

For more than 30 years, Christopher Tolkien, who serves as his father's literary executor, has been bringing forth bits and pieces from the vault, rather like some Dwarvish smith trying to reforge a great Elven sword from discombobulated needles and splinters. Although The Silmarillion was a bestseller upon publication in 1977, for instance, only the hardiest of Tolkien fans have waded through its dry, haughty summaries of great deeds of the distant past.
- Salon

It is a true testament to the love I had for The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings that I finished The Silmarillion, cover to cover in fifth grade, although I've never picked it up again. As for The Children of Hurin, I'm not certain that it's going on my buy-list. With much shorter reading periods these days, it's hard to focus on dense books, so I may need to save it for another year.

The same Salon article mentions that Christopher Tolkien is now 81, the same age as when his father died. I've never read much about the son, but one thinks that he must have had great respect and love for his father to finish this last great work of thirty years.
~

When you really love watermelon and you've finished all the pieces in your bowl, what do you do?
Drink up the juice!

Monday, April 16, 2007

Like Dodgeball, But For Weddings

Flashback: We didn't do a bouquet toss at our wedding, years ago, because we knew from previous reception attendance that our female friends would part like the Red Sea, and the flowers would fall into a sad little empty space on the floor. We talked about having "bouquet-ball," where we would try to peg people with the flowers, like in dodgeball. It seems much more timely now, with the popularity of adult dodgeball leagues, although it's a moot point since everyone seems much more interested in getting married.

Photo credit.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

Is Mir Right? You Be the Judge

Last summer, I joined a table of strangers at BlogHer and discovered that I was sitting next to a childhood classmate – the lovely and talented Mir! She claims that I look exactly like I did when we were in fifth grade. I'm not sure I want to remember how I looked then, but Mir has kindly posted our class photo, plus many excellent images of herself from the 1970's. If I were only so brave.

In other news, Mama has totally scored on the kissing front. A few months ago, I would ask Q for a kiss, and if he was feeling cooperative, he'd press his cheek to my lips. I loved that for cuteness sake, but he's learned to kiss me the regular way! With perhaps a little more force than necessary (we're having a kind of head-butt kiss right now), but definitely moving along.

Last night, he was playing with a connector cable and pulling apart the two segments. He'd bring the pieces back to me, and I'd put them back together, in exchange for a kiss. The game did not get old for either of us.

Continuing our weekend round-up of randomness, we took Q to a concert tonight. A friend of Nanny J and her husband teaches at a nearby university, and we joined them for a faculty recital. We sat strategically near an exit in case we needed a fast retreat, but Q was incredibly well behaved, fascinated by the piano, viola, and clarinet. In fact, I was the one guilty of making the most noise, due to an unfortunately timed coughing fit.

On our way out of the music hall, SwingDaddy commented, "How many two year olds can sit quietly through a chamber music recital without being drugged?"
For those of you who eagerly await my regular sealife updates, I'd like to point out that Kate Spade is featuring lobsters on the spring line of handbags. Sadly, these are insufficiently cute to purchase, even if I was willing to shell out (ha!) $215 for a purse.

And last, Cirque du Soleil has a new show coming to the Bay Area next winter. I'm a total Cirque junkie, but this one worries me a little. Kooza seems to have a heavy emphasis on clowns, and I have a lifelong fear of clowns. The secret is out.

Saturday, April 14, 2007

Nemo, and Other Friends of Princess Sparklefairy

The little dude has pets. How did this happen? I came home from work this week and SwingDaddy said, "Show Mama what you have."

Q ran over to our kitchen table and exclaimed, "Fish!"

What? SwingDaddy explained that our nanny had arrived with a clear plastic container holding three tiny goldfish. She explained the next morning that along she and Q would feed them each day, along with caring for the tomato plant, and they would be a fun activity.

She told me not to overfeed the fish over the weekend, and I let her know that Q had already tried to dunk a lemon and then an apple into their bowl in an attempt to please them. Thankfully, I caught him first, because I can't imagine the trauma of being hit by a lemon when you're about the size of a paperclip. It'd be like a taxicab dropping out of the sky.

Q is very happy to look at the fishies, and while I'm distinctly not a pet-having person, they seem fairly manageable. We asked Q what he wanted to name them, and he said, "Nemo!" which was a reasonable call, given that two of them are mostly orange and the other has some orange spots.

Privately though, SwingDaddy and I both thought, "Princess Sparklefairy."

If you don't already read Solo Mom, you should see what Kimberly has to say about her daughters' first attempt at pet ownership and round two (Princess Sparklefairy 2.0). So far, we've had the trio for going on 60 hours now and they're still wriggling, but I'm a little worried they may not last a lot longer than their Canadian compatriots. Wish us luck.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Never Understood That Line

There's a quote I keep seeing that goes like this:

Work like you don't need money,
Love like you've never been hurt,
And dance like no one's watching.


I never understood that last part.

Dance like no one's watching.

Why? What's the point then?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Admittedly, it would have been a better post if I'd ended it up there, but I can't help but clarify that I do understand the point the author was trying to make. I really do sometimes dance for myself, or for my partner, just for the joy of moving.

And I love an audience too.

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

BlogHer '07 – Are You Going?

BlogHer '07 logo
I'm very tempted. Very, very tempted. Last year's BlogHer was terrific, even if I had to run out early to attend two weddings. I wasn't planning to go this summer, since the conference is far away in Chicago, and I'd have to leave SwingDaddy and Q for three or four days. However, I've been intrigued by the reports from BlogHer Business and am thinking hard. Will I know anyone there? Are you going?

In this week's tradition of tags, here's another one, although it doesn't come from Q.

SwingDaddy, returning home from seeing the movie, 300.
Lady M: How was it?
SwingDaddy: It was a good movie, great visuals.
Lady M: What happened?
SwingDaddy: Um, everyone died.
Lady M: That's rough for the marketing department. They were probably already planning the sequel, "301."

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Taxes, Taxes, Beautiful Taxes

I'm printing out our tax forms and trying very hard to find a silver lining in having to write such a big check. "Well, I guess it's better to make enough money to have to pay taxes than to have nothing in the first place." Kind of a stretch, but I'm trying.

Maybe this will make us feel ownership over all the infrastructure improvements that our taxes are funding. Our very own freeway lane, perhaps, or more likely, our very own stop sign, considering construction costs these days.

Thanks for your comments on yesterday's post. It did occur to me that the term may or may not be offensive to someone, but since I'll never know until too late, I'll be more careful.
Q busts a move.

A follow-up story on how parents have little spies in our midst, always observing our actions and showing us exactly how we behave:

I was sitting next to Q at dinner a few days ago, when he decided he no longer liked green peppers. He carefully moved the vegetables, piece by piece, from his plate to mine while looking very solemnly at me. "Yum, mama!"

At two years of age, he's already marketing his dinner rejects. Great.

Monday, April 09, 2007

Unintentionally Insulting the Irish

I like to think I am careful and intentional with my words, but when you talk as much as I do, I suppose you're bound to screw up somewhere.

We'd been introduced to the other families prior to the egg hunt this weekend, including a lady we'll call Colleen with her two sons, as well as a fellow we'll call Sean, who brought his young daughter.

As we watched our children navigate the sandbox, we made small talk about names and ages. Colleen commented that her boys were "Irish twins," and explained, "To technically qualify, they'd have to be born within the same year, but they're actually a year and three weeks apart. Most people aren't familiar with the term, so I just use it anyway."

I responded, "Yeah, I know Irish twins. One of our friends and his brother are just 11 months apart."

Sean chimed in, "They must be quite a handful."

At that moment, I noticed his accent. Then I remembered Colleen's earlier comment to him about visiting Ireland, land of her ancestors. Figured out that Sean was Irish. And froze. Had I or had I not said something insulting?

Funny, I never really thought about the words, "Irish twin," but gripped by cold thought around that patio table, I wondered if it was as rude as saying someone "welshed" on a deal (implying people from Wales are untrustworthy) or that you were "gypped" (ripped off by a gypsy or Egyptian). It could certainly be interpreted to mean that the Irish are uneducated in prudent birth control, or some derogatory meaning.

The moment had passed. Should I bring it back up? Sean didn't act offended. Would this haunt me for days or worse, rankle him that Americans would be so rude? I took a deep breath.

"I'm really sorry, I said "Irish twin" and I hope that wasn't horribly offensive. I didn't mean to be."

Sean was very gracious and brushed it off. "Don't worry about it. It's not so much now, but two generations ago, Irish families were huge."

In light of uglier racist remarks in the news, this is lower on the scale, but I was certainly culturally insensitive. For me, this was a reminder how language is powerful, and not to lose sight of that while making it colorful.

Other news:

Q and I played an extensive drum and pot-lid cymbal duet this evening.

SwingDaddy: Let's play something quieter, like Dueling Jackhammers or Jet Engine Testing.

Sunday, April 08, 2007

Eggses, Eggses, Everywhere!

We had another little egg hunt at home this morning, and Q was delighted to find GOLDFISH CRACKERS inside! After he'd located all the eggs and crunched through their contents, he kept prodding the shells in his basket, hoping that more would materialize.

Last night, we all had a great time at the multi-family egg hunt. Q got the hang of the search, and for all my worries that he's undersocialized, handled himself quite well with the other children. He shared the sandbox and toys, although he roared when another boy went for the broom he'd found. Overall, meltdowns per child were pretty reasonable.

I don't know where I'm looking in this photo, but Q is pretty focused on his hotdog. He went for my burger later too.

And who could pass up Easter Bunny ice cream cake?

Happy Easter!

Saturday, April 07, 2007

Me and My Peeps

Nope, no gangsta photos here, since my peeps are the cute, bunny shaped kind. I love the marshmallow treats, adore my pink plush Peep from last year, and have been so tempted to bring another home. Well, in short, I gave in.

I had an excellent excuse though – our friends were hosting an Easter Egg Hunt and I needed to get a little Peep bunny for each child!

The big one is for me.
SwingDaddy thought he was a little large, but I came home from Toys R Us prepared with evidence to the contrary. See the practically tiny pink bunny immediately to the right of the monster bunny? That's the "large" one I brought home. The one I left behind (which frankly scares me) was about the size of Q.

For those of you who might think that I am way too attached to plush cuteness, I would like to point out that I really did give those bunnies to the kidlets, with only a small twinge.

Q took his and snuggled it to his cheek. "Fuzzy!"

Thursday, April 05, 2007

Yeah, That's Only Supposed to Apply to You

I'm going to subject you to another cute kid story, because I practically pulled an all-nighter for work, plus we had dance rehearsal tonight, and it's time to get some sleep.

The little dude is totally paying attention to behavior. We are under constant observation. He spilled his alphabet magnets all over the floor this afternoon, and when I held up the alphabet container, he started collecting the magnets and putting them inside.

"Mama do it!"

I was feeling a little lazy, so I just let him continue picking up the pieces. He took my hand and pulled me over to the magnets scattered on the floor, and put my hand on them.

Um, just like I do to him, when he's unwilling to clean up his toys. Mary P, I took your good advice and accidentally created all sorts of trouble.

Q practicing kung fu.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

SSSSSS

"Tuck! Tuck!"

I walk over and help Q pull the toy guitar out of the box, where it had gotten stuck. Later, he pulled out his plastic vegetables and pointed at the veggie label that my parents had playfully removed from a real avocado and placed on the toy avocado.

"Ticker! Funny!"

Now and again, he'll demand his drum "ticks."

I'm sure the extra s's are going to show up at some point. In the mean time, it makes me (s)mile.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

More of Those Yellow Bracelets

Costume Conspirator is an inspirational person for her creativity and energy, and also as a multiple-time cancer survivor. I particularly remember an evening where she was leading our rehearsal warm-ups, having us work on a yoga-influenced push-up. She told everyone to not watch her because she wasn't using the proper form, having just had another surgery. I looked over to see what she was doing, and she was powering through the move ONE HANDED to protect her incision, while the rest of us were struggling along supporting our weight on both hands. That, my friends, is determination and beauty.

The cover story of Newsweek was written by a reporter who is also a cancer survivor, and it includes his interview of Elizabeth Edwards, recently re-diagnosed with cancer, and wife to presidential candidate John Edwards. There are hard choices for any family facing illness, and they've chosen to pursue their political goals. She says, "Having lost a child (to a car accident a decade ago), I promise you that making certain that I do not have regrets when we finally say goodbye is really important to me."

Those yellow LiveStrong bracelets are not just statements of support for the fight against cancer. They are reminders to live well, as best we can without regrets. All days are good days.

~~~~~

YF has a new project with ShopStyle, and I'm trying out the widget for her. It was fun to look through all the fashions! Certainly a step up from the denim jackets from L.A. Gear.



And because we can't possibly go this many days without a picture of Q, here he is with his Cars blanket from Grandpa and Grandma Nese.

Monday, April 02, 2007

Passing Up Vegas for Home

Why am I happy to being working late tonight? Because, at least I'm at home. I was supposed to be working a trade show in Las Vegas, but our department decided at the last minute to send a more technical resource instead. Darn, no Southwest Airlines peanuts for me!

On the topic of road food, here are the desserts I ordered (and shared with many) on successive nights while on the Orlando business trip:

I've always been curious about Red Velvet Cake.


And the next night, there was an Orange Cake, so how could I pass that up?

They were both quite tasty, if a little heavy on food coloring. Yellow cake is not so hard to find, but I'm afraid I've ruined the trend by not searching out a truly green cake for St. Patrick's Day. Eventually, I can work my way through ROY G. BIV, if it doesn't make me sick first.