40 Before 40 Update: Big Cats

When I made my For Before 40 List (still in process by the way), my bud gave me the suggestion to go pet some baby tigers. Whammo! It's on my list. Now, I'm taking artistic license to what she said and changing "tigers" to big cats. I gathered more information from her. It just so happened that Groupon offered a discount. Back that up a bit. The zoo (Garold Wayne Zoo), in conjunction with Groupon, offered a discount. One failed attempt and one successful attempt to purchase the necessary tickets later, we were ready to make plans for our visit.

We drove all the way to Oklahoma on a cold fall morning. We walked around the compound on our own for a while and fed the animals in the front that we had access to. Then we all gathered together for a group tour. We got to go to the back of the complex and interacted very closely with some of the animals. At the end of the tour, we got to snuggle and pet a couple of 5-week-old liligers. Yes, you Napoleon Dynamite fanatics, ligers are real. Liligers are products of male lions and female tigers.

The rest is photographic evidence.

The Lost Art

Way before social media, way before the internet, people used to write letters. Actual pen to paper folded in an envelope and sent to people.

I was in middle school when I had my first official pen pal. Across the world. His name was Enrique and he lived in Spain. Then I had an Italian boy named Luca surprise me. After that I had my friend hook me up with a girl in Sweden. Oh, aren't you cute with your head in the gutter. Shut up, it was sweet. We lost touch after a while but I was hooked on letters from that point on. This may be where my mail obsession comes from. And by obsession, I mean it was my self-assigned duty to check the mail every day. When I started dating, I checked his family's mail. I was set on having my own PO box.

Once I started dating Ryan (hellooooooo internet!) I got in contact with a girl in Japan, Megumi. We wrote for quite some time! This was during my Asian interest era. And thus began my "dark years" as a letter-writing fiend. I built a pen pal database on (gasp!) Angelfire. I had upwards of 50 pen pals and more people with whom I was exchanging postcards. Oh and of course I have lost touch with these folks too. Except one. And somehow, along the way, I stumbled across friendship books.

Education!
A friendship book (FB to those of us in the biz) is a little handmade booklet of about 5 pages. Some of those little fuckers got artsy-fartsy with those things. Anyway, you put your address on it. It's yours. You also put your info in it like a tiny-assed bio and the type of friend you're looking for and weren't looking for *ahem*prisoners*ahem*. Excuse me there. Then you'd mail it off to one of your awesome pen pals, they'd add their info and pass  it along. Wash-rinse-repeat. If there wasn't any space left, it made it's way back home if you were lucky. I have a few that have come back! And to make things more ridiculous, there were mutations of these things too. This shit was a hobby.

Welcome back to present day!
I'm not quite sure how Ivy picked up on it but she is about as obsessed as I am about the mail. It's almost a beat-down, drag-out, contest to see who gets to the mailbox first. Ha-HA! I have the upper hand. I'm still taller than her and can get the mail easier than she can. And she has started asking if she has any mail. So I threw out a plea on Facebook for my friends and family to send the kid some mail and it has been steadily trickling in. And look who is happy.

And see who is not... Because of Pinterest and Instagram, I am seeing all this cute mail that people are sending and getting and I'm pouting over here. I want that correspondence. I want to connect with people around the world the old fashioned way. Send me mail, damnit!

And I remember I did this at one point.

I Like to Make Shit, okay?

So I have this 'thing' for sugar skulls. It's recent for me to actively pursue and purchase things. I have a few decorations hanging around. 

I thought about and decided I wanted to be la muerte somehow. I don't really like having makeup (especially grease makeup) on my face and one day I walked past the plain mask at {Big Box Craft Store}.  

With only one image hanging around, I started penciling on my designs. 

I added the paint and sequins. 

Flower and ribbons. 

And I couldn't really wear it because of my glasses and the stupid-assed Texas heat. I may add some more designs to it, but I'm so stoked over my mask.

Wear Red Lip Stick

Alternately titled: Spot the Euphamisms

Hello again. I see you over there. You look like crap. You're short, fat, and ugly. You are a frumpy mess. Your back is unnecessarily stabbing you no matter what. You're tired as fuck because your legs wake you up and you only get one-hour naps between uncontrollable leg-fits. You have a shit-ton of things to do.

So what is the best thing to do? Wear red lipstick. No matter what, it will apparently make you sexy.

So sexy in fact, that after stupidly slinging 4 large bags of double-digit weight compost onto a cart all-by-your-damned-self, checking out, and pulling that heavy-assed cart to your car, some dude will magically appear right behind your red-lipped sassy ass and just start putting your smelly compost into your car for you. Fucking creeper. Uh, thanks? Yeah, thanks for this. Abracadabra yourself to my house and I'll let you unload it.

That red lipstick is so sexy still that it will also invite men to ask you what your plans for the week are. Then they will offer help out to your car over a single, well-contained pallet of 12 cans of dog food. I guess I should've turned mushy, coquettish, and all doe-eyed helpless. Make the men work! "Thanks, but I definitely got this."

Are you too chicken-shit to wear red lipstick? I was too. It's so... bold. So out there. An advertisement. Suck it up, baby. Red is classic. It's beautiful. And it makes you feel amazing.  

Find a shade that matches your skin tone. No matter how red that stick looks, it will look pink or purple or, god-forbid, orange if it has the wrong undertone that looks like shit with your undertone. 

Put on lip primer first so you don't eventually end up looking like a sadistic clown-vampire. Just like the red itself abracadabra-ing people to willingly work for you, lip primer will abracadabra-ingly make lipstick work for you. 

Do you remember your childhood? Do you remember how to crayon? Same principal here. They make special stick pencils of lipshade colors. Line your lips so you know where you are supposed to put the fatter stick. 

Watch what you're doing and slather, no, smear? Smooth ah, that sounds shmexy. Smooooth the red lipstick across your lips. That one word gives your lips just the right shape for application. So smooth it on. Just the tip though. You want to avoid the teeth. 

That's all there is to it. Pout away and the weak-minded droolers will follow you. Of course you can top it off with shiny lip gloss to make it look like you've been motor-boating a can of glitter. I'm not a fan of either so I don't do that. There are people out there that do that IRL though. I'm not judging. 

Damn. Girl doesn't look so tired and plain anymore. Go feel better about yourself. 

So Long,

Sass w/a Ass

Pumpkin Silk Pie and Whipped Cream

Good afternoon folks, this is your Captain, Sass with an Ass, speaking. Welcome aboard my flight because shit is about to get real. Your panties will wad up. Don't worry. Once I turn off the fasten-seatbelt sign, you're free to move about the cabin and hoist that wedgie right out your crack. You know what your Mommas say about the heat in the kitchen. Can't stand my flying? I hope you have a parachute. So, now that we have asserted ourselves, let's have some fun. M'kay?

I don't convey myself - my self - on this blog. I want to open up and talk to you like I would really talk. How many people read this anyway? (Hi Joy! I know you do! I hope you keep reading!)

I grabbed the recipe for Pumpkin Silk Pie from here. But technically it was though Pinterest. Because, Pinterest. Okay? My go-to source for pretty much everything. And so help me, if you aren't following me on Pinterest.

It's Fall. It's Autumn. It's Pumpkin Season for crying out loud. Pumpkin. Fucking. Silk. Pie. All of those words should send you into a coma around this time of year.

Tangent? Okay! I used to hate pumpkin. I don't know why. I guess because I grew up with that. If Momma doesn't like it, Momma doesn't cook it, and Momma sure as shit isn't going to serve it to you. Once upon a time, my husband and I were shopping and came across a sample of pumpkin chiffon pie. It was all downhill from there. Pop tarts, lattes, bread. You name it, I've probably eaten it. 

So that recipe calls for Cool hWhip, Stewie. Fucking Cool hWhip. That shit ain't right. Have you read the ingredients? Nothing real is walking around in that tub of fake. Even on the organic tubs. Crap. Just crap. Just like margarine and Crisco. Those assholes. I don't know why I'm even throwing out respect by capitalizing their proper names. 

Would you like to learn some chemistry? Because that's what they're doing to things. They chemistry the shit out of something that doesn't exist and you eat it. They add a hydrogen atom to the chemical chains to stabilize it, throw in another chemical (high fructose corn syrup), add some more stuff that isn't real, and some people call that food. 

And just because there's a heart beating somewhere in my chest, I'm going to draw this for you so you can understand. I promise I don't think you're stupid. Pictures help me. Visuals. Imagery. 

If you are me, the words "fuck that shit" just toppled out your jaw. Lucky for you, I'm making you do extra work. Don't worry, I've done this tons of times. Just relax, it won't hurt. I promise. Go see Alton's recipe. God, I get it. You're almost as lazy as I am. Fine. I'll put that recipe here too. Jeezus. 

So let's make this longer, shall we?

First, make yourself some fresh whipped cream. Second, make the pumpkin fucking silk pie. And don't make a graham cracker crust, either. The ginger snaps and pumpkin anything are BFFs or lovers, even. Yeah. They're lovers. 

Three, hope like hell you don't just smear that all over yourself. It's damn good. 

Damnit! Put your top down. This ain't no Kitchen Aid's Gone Wild. 

I didn't think I'd be writing about it so there are zero process photos. 

I could say sooooo many inappropriate things here. But I am actually going to hold my tongue. 

Now this isn't Stan. 

But Phil here, Phil is so edible. And delectable. And happy to be food. Real food. 

And now for those pesky recipes that you're too lazy to click to their original sources.

Whipped Cream
Ingredients

• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 1 cup heavy whipping cream

Directions

• Place a metal mixing bowl and metal whisk into the freezer for 10 to 15 minutes.
• Place the sugar into the mixing bowl and add the whipping cream. Whisk just until the cream reaches stiff peaks. Store any unused portion in an airtight container for up to 10 hours. When ready to use, rewhisk for 10 to 15 seconds.

Pumpkin Silk Pie
Ingredients

• 32 gingersnaps
• ¼ cup butter, melted
• ¼ cup sugar
• 8 oz package cream cheese, softened
• 2 tsp vanilla
• ½ tsp pumpkin pie spice
• 1 cup powdered sugar
• 1 cup pumpkin

• 16 oz Cool Whip
• 8 oz containter Cool Whip to use for decoration, if desired

Directions

• Finely crush 32 ginger snaps.
• Mix in melted butter and sugar.
• Press into springform pan.
• Bake at 325 degrees for 5 minutes.
• Beat softened cream cheese until light and fluffy.
• Add the powdered sugar, pumpkin, vanilla and pumpkin pie spice; beat until smooth.
• Fold in one large container of whipped topping and spread into the springform pan.
• Place in the fridge for a couple of hours over overnight to allow it to set up.
• Remove the springform pan sides and top with additional whipped topping.
• Sprinkle with pumpkin pie spice.

God help me if you use cool hwhip after I schooled your ass. Alton's recipe will make enough for this recipe. Double that if you want extra for, um, later.

The Day I Replaced the Garbage Disposal

So I got up this morning after a troubled night. Oh hooray for me. I figured it would be a horrible day. So I went ahead and got on with my day. Breakfast and run the dishwasher. After I got the washer going, I noticed water back up into the sink. The disposal usually fixes that so I ran it and it sounded off. I looked under the sink and...

Oh gross. The towel had been there because the disposal had been leaking and "it didn't seem bad" or "it wasn't leaking a while ago. Out of sight, out of mind.

At least there wasn't an awful stench.

To my dismay, I saw it was leaking while the disposal was going and I decided to get a good look and found this. That, my friends, is a huge crack spraying water. That isn't a leak at all.

So some texts later, I was told to go get a new disposal and wait til later or tomorrow. Nah. Ain't got no bla bla bla. I decided I'd do it myself. 

Water off? Check.

Electricity? Eh. Ellipses.

I had to forage for that sucker. I moved a few things around. Then it took about 10 minutes figuring out exactly which switch did what. Because some losers didn't label. Lazy labeling make more work.

Empty the sink of nasty water? Ew. Fine.

Make sure there are some experts somewhere.

And the fun began. I unplugged the disposal, disconnected the dishwasher drain and then the pipe.

After that, I had to get the badger disconnected from the flange and such. I was stuck so I had to research how the carnfarnded thing dismantled. Once that was solved, everything else was like buttah.

I had to disconnect the power cord because those things just aren't handed out right and left, you know.

I also had to get the flange doomahickey out of the sink hole. Helloww down therre!

New flange needs new play doh. Uh, silly putty. Cripes! Putter's plumby. No? Plumber's Putty! Those kindergarten skill DO come in handy!

Oh my, I didn't even realized what this looked like folks. AVERT YOUR EYES! Sorry about that, folks. 

(sortof)

New flange thingy! Shiney!

Because the instructions CLEARLY says that ALL power cords label everything as hot and neutral (that almost sounds kind of sexy, doesn't it?). Lazy labelers make more work.

Again, more research but Google First Page doesn't quite answer me so I refer to my previously taken photo of the same thing. This is where I'm glad I decided to document this experience. Otherwise, there'd have been some random ratio of a chance that my house would be burned down. S'mores, anyone?

Yes, that's me. Yes, I am magically wingardium leviosa-ing the hell out of a 20 some-odd pound piece of appliance. I had my little goblin work the magical moment capturing gadget so there'd actually be a shot of me in it. Better having her work that thing than another thing.

It's in! I did it! All by myself. It was fun. I'm proud of me!

Aaaaand then I had to clean this up.

Friday-Night-Lights Sort Of

Otherwise titled: I Had A Post but My Phone Eated It

Fall makes me feel nostalgic. I've always loved the first of school. School Supplies. Football games. Marching practice.

There's a marked difference in the community that I live in and the community I used to live in.
Middle Schools
Don't celebrate homecoming in the school.
There are no pep rallies every Tuesday for the football team including cheerleaders, marching band (instead of an orchestra), class spirit yells, twirlers.
The marching bands and cheerleaders don't participate or even go to the middle school games.
There is no connection to the high school.

Because Gosh Darn-it, that's how it was when I was coming up.

I had a homecoming mum pretty much every year since the age of 10.
I loved middle school pep rallies and I remember my school song because of it.
We had a halftime show at our home games. The marching band marched, the twirlers twirled, and it was a fun night had by all.
Every Friday was "black and gold" day - everyone wore the high school colors.
The middle school mascots were tied to the high school mascot (Canines & Bullpups to Bulldogs).

But I do have to give it to the schools here.
The high school homecoming events include a mini carnival with games and stuff.