cleverly disguised as a responsible adult

Tasting notes

Northern Brewer Chocolate Milk Stout kit = DELICIOUS paired with a spicy Italian drip beef sammich. Smooth, sweet, not too bitter. The chocolate comes out more in the aroma than actual flavor, but so, so wonderful.

I Don't Even Know Porter (based on Goat Scrotum Ale from Papazian's book) - The aroma is all ginger. Like, no really, GINGER. It's intense. But drinking it, the licorice stands up to the ginger and actually does a decent job balancing it out. It's dark, has pretty high alcohol content, and is rather warming. When I brew it again, I'll use less ginger. It's quite drinkable, however, which is better than I was afraid of.

Next up: either pumpkin ale or holiday red. Life is good. Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.

Also, if anyone local wishes to trade empty bottles for full bottles, we can work something out. I need bottles that are pry-off, not screw-top lids. Love sharing the booze!

Apologies for the extended radio silence. Life has been getting in the way of blogging lately.

On Friday I got to experience the panic that comes when the head of R&D promises the entire division that you will be handing over a beautiful program by the end of next week that will solve all of life's problems, wax your car, buy groceries, establish lasting peace in the Middle East, and make a darn good chocolate souffle. This evening when I left work, I had a passable first draft that, though not the smoothest code ever written, gets the job done.

I got to see my little sister and have some serious Sister Time over the weekend. We picked out what she's going to wear to my wedding and, dear Elvis, did she look fabulous in it. Holy cow. We celebrated this milestone by getting well and truly smashed. We also demonstrated our mad singing and dancing skillz, thus frightening people for miles around and ensuring that the entire city felt as though Hell itself were opening up under them.

I also managed to get the entire hangover for the binge - she escaped any ill effects of the vodka, tequila, wine, cider, beer, munchies, various mixers, and utter insanity. Lucky little brat.

Once I stopped throwing up, I got most of a skirt finished. It needs to be fitted before I can finish the waistband and hemming is going to be entertaining. It's a different style than before and the first in my new line of "Pattern? I don't need no stinkin' pattern!" sewing projects. Yes, this could end in a disaster that takes out half the Atlantic seaboard. So be it.

I've also become more addicted to Katamari Damacy and Fate than I'd expected. They're both cutesy, silly, and exceptionally fun games that give me great enjoyment with very little frustration. Darwin knows I get enough frustration from work to not need any more of it from my hobbies. But I still like cross-stitch and fancy sewing stuff. Hm. There is a conflict in my logic processors.

I'll deal with it later.

Downwood was nice enough tonight to help me get started on weight lifting at the gym. So now it's a bit difficult to pick up my arms. While this may be a problem when I'm washing my hair tomorrow morning, I pulled up the picture of my gown again to recapture the motivation of "I'm going to look so stunning that no one will believe it's actually me in that dress." This is not the same motivation that encouraged me to freshen up the henna in my hair yesterday, but it comes from that same seat of vanity in my soul.

There's nothing wrong with wanting to be a pretty princess. Nothing whatsoever.

And, yes, I was getting all teary-eyed this evening while figuring out what to put on the wedding invitations, the wording, the colors, the font, and all the other stuff that goes along with it. Downwood approved of my choices with the mindset of "Just make her happy. Figure out what she's already chosen and choose that. If you don't want to sleep on the couch tonight, you're going to have to read her mind. Shit. Um, maybe I should feign deafness and being involved in my video game. Oh, crap, that's not working, either. Um...well...that one looks nice? *ducks*"

Yes. It's all coming together. Things are getting ordered and decided. This shindig might actually happen after all. Who would've thunk?

And, with that, I believe it's time for me to wander away to that place where I recharge my snark stores and prepare for another day of slaying the Evil Code Bug, dealing with Hostile Customers of Doom, and handling Massive Projects of Spirit-Crushing Complexity. Onward!

There is neither bourbon nor brandy in our liquor cabinet. Therefore, I appeal to the wisdom of my flist to answer the following question for me.

NB: This does not speak particularly highly of my wisdom, now does it?

[Poll #633995]

I figure that I should transcribe my thoughts on this speech, and record exactly what this "clear plan" entails.  And I'm going to be kept company by a glass of Old Krupnick to be drunk when he mispronounces something or the crowd applauds.  Here goes nothing.
( Clear Strategy, my ass )