Mango Bread for the New Year
From my mommy – a traditional Cuban new year bread. I think I will also post this on the Mango Radio webpage as my show will actually be taking place on New Years. It seems appropriate.

Anyway, enjoy!

2 cup all purpose flour
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 teaspoons baking soda
½ tsp salt
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
½ cup vegetable oil
¼ cup mango juice
1 tsp vanilla
2 ½ cup chopped firm-ripe mangoes (about 3 ½ lbs)
1 tbsp lemon or lime juice
½ cup almonds (optional)

1. Preheat the oven to 350°. Grease two loaf pans.
2. Combine the flour, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, baking soda and salt.
3. Add the almonds and stir until evenly distributed. (Instead of almonds, I often add in chopped pecans or brazil nuts.)
4. In a separate bowl, beat together the sugar, eggs, and oil until fluffy and light colored, about 3 minutes. (I highly recommend an electric mixer instead of hand whisking this. Of course, I usually hand whisk, so who am I to make such silly recommendations?)
5. Add the vanilla, gently mixing into the fluffy mixture.
6. Add the flour mixture to the sugar mixture and beat just until smooth. Do not over mix.
7. With a large spatula, fold in the mangoes, mango juice and lemon juice. Scrape the batter into the prepared pans.
8. Bake in the center of the oven for 35 to 40 minutes, or until the top is firm, the loaf pulls away from the sides of the pans, and a cake tester inserted into the center comes out clean.
9. Remove from the pans to a wire rack to cool completely.

So, like everyone and their half-wasted brother in law Earl, I have decided to make some New year's resolutions. This will be the first year I have actually made any. I never made any before because I thought (and still do really) that resolutions shouldn't only be made at one moment in the year, but rather throughout it as you learn valuable life lessons*.

Right then, I have some goals for myself over the next year. Some are real, and some obviously aren't so I don't feel bad when I fail, most miserably, at all of them.

1. Start a regular work out regiment
2. Get a pet pot belly pig
3. Write something useful in my blog at least once a week
4. Hunt down those guys from Creed (or Amy Grant) and pull out every single hair on their body, drop them in lemon juice and ask them if they still believe in God
5. Spend more time with my husband
6. Continue to not have children
7. Kill the Cubicle Ninjas with my awesome Kung Fu
8. Mock at least one person every week to make sure I don't turn into a crazy, mean old lady
9. Say "fuck" more (or possibly less) often
10. Call myself a "cunt" more often
11. Avoid stupid people
12. Make a better podcast for Mango Radio every week
13. Actually upload my shows to the fpt and link them on the news page
14. Drink less caffeine
15. Make my husband stop smoking "for reals" this time
16. Cook dinner on the weekends and give my house husband a break from a hard week's work of feeding and 'marinating' me
17. Keep my house cleaner
18. Add blog templates to my page or give them to Webkittyn
19. Spoooooooon!!
20. Stop making stupid lists

Right then, there we have it, all the things I want to do next year. I'm shooting to at least accomplish two of those. Will I? Can I? Stay tuned next year to see if our heroine can actually triumph.

I'm at work. I'm bored out of my fucking mind. Cut me some slack. This wasted 2 minutes of my day... only 294 more minutes to go.

Well, in the time I have been perusing blogs, there are few I actually label as "good". They are indeed a rare and beautiful thing. Recently, we have lost one of the blogs I find good.

The Dive Bar Verses is no more.

Damn.

One of my geologist friends from college has been working in Alaska. He works summers, makes a shit pot load of money and fucks off for the rest of the year traveling about. anyway, he is in town and going to come over. We're going to have fondue*.

He went up to Alaska with this asswipe whom I shall call Bob for the sake of calling him something. Bob was a real chode munch. I didn't like him at all. He smelled awful, had bad habits, was a sore winner (and loser) and was just an overall bad person who made me want to stab my pencil into his eye, pluck it out and dance like a leprechaun about the room taunting him with "I got your eye, I got your eye!"

Anyway, apparently, he got mauled by a bear.

No seriously.

A bear fucking mauled him.

In the words of my geologist friend, "he got tore up by a bear."

I laughed. I laughed and laughed. Who the fuck gets mauled by a bear** these days? I mean really?! Is this Karma rearing it's ugly head? Or just some sort of event that was designed to make me laugh?

I should feel bad because he got mauled by a bear and that can't be pleasant.

But I don't.

Fuck him. He was a sackless twat. If anyone in the world deserved to be mauled by a bear, it was him. Fucker. Maybe he'll learn something from the ordeal. But, knowing him, he won't.

My great-grandmother also died. She wasn't mauled by a bear, but she should have been. She was a mean old bag. She never said anything nice to me. Ever. Everything that fell out of her mouth was either spiteful, mean or just plain crazy. She was not a nice person.

The more I think about it, the more I realize, my family sucks. And not in the good way. All of the women in my family turn mean as they age. Not just bitter, but crazy mean. Not senile, not demented, just mean. I think there is a point where they just fucking snap and go bad. Is it from holding it in when faced with the plethora of stupid people around? Is it from being the doormat of the men they married? I don't know.

I like to think I'm a pleasant enough person.

Then I laugh my ass off when someone I didn't like get's mauled by a bear.

Thing aren't looking up for my old age.

Ah well. Such is life.

I got this recipe from my mum who got it from her dad who got it from his mum etc. I come from a cuban family and we like to cook and to eat. This recipe has been modified slightly by me as I like baking bread and the person who it came from didn't. I altered it slightly to add to the sweetness and make it a real dessert bread. (Although it is also a nice toasting bread. I also hear it goes well with Ham, but I don't know. I don't eat ham.)

In my house, we ate this bread with homemade mango jelly. It wasn't really a jelly so much as a mango sauce. I will also be posting that recipe. I'll warn you now, these amounts are all approximate, I eyeball everything.

2 large eggs, beaten
1 cup sugar
1/4 cup honey
1 cup warm water
2 envelopes dry yeast (or ~3 teaspoons)
1/4 cup vegetable oil
2 Tablespoons melted butter
6-8 cups of flour
sesame seeds
a bit of egg and salt for glaze

1. Mix 2 tablespoons sugar with luke warm water. add yeast and let sit until frothy.
2. Add remaining sugar, oil, eggs, butter, honey and 1 cup flour.
3. Mix well, until all ingredients are blended together.
4. Add flour until a stiff dough is formed.
5. Turn dough out onto a floured surface and kneed it firmly for several minutes. You want the bread to get nice and gluteny, binding all the flour and sugar and everything together. This will make the brad have a better consistency.
6. Place ball of dough into a greesed bowl and cover with a plastic bag. Allow to rise until double in size. A plastic bag will hold in the moisture and heat better than a cloth.
7. Turn the ball of dough out onto a floured surface and kneed down into its original form. separate the ball into about 12 small protions.
8. Roll out the portions into long 'stick' shapes. PLace on a rgeesed pan and allow to rise. They should rise to be ovular.
9. mix a bit of egg with some salt and glaze the top of the rolls. Sprinkle with sesame seeds.
10. Preheat oven to 350°. Bake for 15-30 minutes (depends on altitude and humidity). The bread should be golden on top and hollow sounding when thumped.
11. Cool on a rack or serve warm.

Now, the Mango Jelly is a bit amusing. Its very sweet, but has a nice tang to it as well. It is hard to explain. We cubans like our fruit. Mango, Guava, Plantains; you name it and we'll cook it and eat it with meat. This mango jelly is very easy to make.

Several mangos (4-5 peeled and cubed)
lots of sugar (for every cup of mango, you need about 1.5-2 cups of sugar)
(I like to add a couple of tablespoons of sweet red chili powder... but I'm a freak)

1. Peel and cube fesh mango fruits.
2. Toss into a large pot. I find it best to cube and peel the fruit over the pot so you don't lose any of the juice.
3. Slowly heat the mango and stir to keep from burning.
4. Stir in appropriate amount of sugar (~2 cups per cup of fruit; also, this is when you would add the chili powder)
5. Add no water, the mango will make its own juice as you cook it.
6. Cook with continuous stirring unti the goo is syrup/marmalade consistency.
7. Pour into a bowl or jar and allow to cool before eating.

If you are wondering what to get those pesky neighbors (or family) who come to your door a-bible-thumoing, I have the perfect gift. While it may not quite perk their interest like a baby Jesus buttplug (nothing like orgasms for Jesus... it's heavenly), it is just as nifty.

Everyone needs to reminded of the Old Ones every now and again, and what says I love you like tentacles?

That's right, it's Kthulhu Kitsch! Perfect for even the most uptight of friends. Nothing like staring into the abyss of darkness to remind people what's truly imporant.

So, go to Kthulhu Kitsch and get all your friends a plush 'King'.

So, Webkittyn has won the dubious honour of Shitty blog of the Month for December! All hail Webkittyn!

In keeping with my tradition of making shitty buttons for people, I made a shitty button for the Webkittyn. I originally had a grand plan to have a cat in a litter box, but I decided to spread a little bit of seasonal cheer. I know Webkittyn needs it right now. She is a Christmas lover and while I loath and despise the season, this button is for her and not for me.

So, Hail Webkittyn! Be merry and shitty and proud!

Believed to be of divine origin, the cocoa tree was the bridge between heaven and earth. The Maya, believing no other tree was worth naming, simply called the cacao tree, cachuaquchtl, or "Tree." Believing that the "tree" belonged to the gods and that the pods were an offering from the gods, if not the gods' food itself, the Maya quickly incorporated its pod into their everyday symbolism and mythology. They believed the gods placed this tree and its wonderful seed pods on Mother Earth for man to cultivate, enjoy and offer back to them.

From Chocolate's beginnings, there was an intimate connection between the gods and humankind--one that touches the body, mind, and ultimately the soul.

-http://www.chocolatedeities.com

Now this is how you celebrate the holidays. Eat a God of your choice. Yum!

For those of you who haven't noticed, I am not a very good Jew. I am lax in my practice and, frankly, I don't really believe in it. There are things about judaism that I love and things I find absolutely silly. I suppose it is the same with every religion. (Save for the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. He will touch us with his noodly appendage*. Arrrr!)

So remember, all people will appreciate a chocolate God to eat. Mmmm.... it's sacred and delicious**!

Yes, that is right, I am an angry little jewish girl today. It takes quite a lot to get my goat from politicians. I expect politicians to do stupid things and say things aloud that should have never been uttered. BUt, today I read something that is one of my real... I won't say pet peeve, because it goes well beyond that.

Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has courted further controversy by explicitly calling the Nazi Holocaust of European Jewry a "myth".

"They have created a myth today that they call the massacre of Jews and they consider it a principle above God, religions and the prophets," he said.

-BBCNews.com, Iranian leader denies Holocaust

Now, all sorts of fucknubs have denied the holocaust ever happened despite the documented proof, the pictures, the movies, the artifacts and the death camps that still stand as a reminder to the world what genocide is, but I never thought that the President of a country would do it. There are quite literally mountains of proof that the holocaust happened: Mountains of hair, jewelry, coats, shoes, teeth... mountains of remnants of people, of lives, of heritage.

"If someone were to deny the existence of God... or prophets and religion, they would not bother him... However, if someone were to deny the myth of the Jews' massacre, all the Zionist mouthpieces and the governments subservient to the Zionists tear their larynxes and scream against the person as much as they can," he [President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad] said.

I don't have the words to explain how much this truly angers me. I have family who died in the camps. My great-granmother quite literally escaped Hungary with nothing but the clothes on her back and the jewelry sewn into the hems of her skirt. Her brothers, sisters, parents, cousins and friends died in a 'labour camp' in Poland.

I've seen the numbers tattooed on people's arms. I've seen the mountains of artifacts.

Are public figures really allowed to be so ignorant? Not just stupid, but honestly and totally ignorant. It is one thing to be hateful, but quite another to deny a whole chapter of history.

This frightens me.

Basic Lotion Recipe
1-2 T beeswax
¼ c coconut oil
¼ c light cooking oil
1/8 tsp borax
¼ c distilled water
½ tsp favorite cooking extract, or 5 drops essential oil

• Grate the beeswax into small bits. Don’t worry if your beeswax is colored, this is generally natural and won’t irritate your skin as a chemical colorant will.
• Place the beeswax in the coconut oil in a double boiler on the stove (or the microwave) and melt the wax into the coconut oil. Cocoa Butter can be substituted for coconut oil.
• Mix the water with the borax (you may substitute baking soda) and heat the mixture until is boils.
• Pour the wax mixture into a blender and slowly add boiling water to the mixture as you blend on high. You may also use a wisk if you do not wish to use a blender.
• Mix the wax and water until they have combined together. The mixture will thicken as it cools.
• If you wish to add colorant, you can do so now.
• Allow the mixture to cool completely before adding scent.

What type of ‘cooking’ oil you use should depend on your skin type. If you have dry skin, use extra virgin olive oil. Olive oil is wonderful for skin and will not only moisturize, but also help prevent blemishes. For oily skin, use Grape Seed oil. Grape seed oil is very light and will absorb quickly into the skin leaving no residue. It is wonderful for sensitive skin as well.

If you want extra moisturizer in your lotion, try adding 1-3 capsules of Vitamin E. You can also try adding pureed avocado to the mixture. (But, if you add fruit/vegetable, store your lotion in the fridge.) If you have very oily skin, try adding an oatmeal wash to the lotion. (To make an oatmeal wash, run water over fresh, non-instant oatmeal, use the milky water produced instead of the regular water above.)

If you wish to add astringent properties to your lotion, try adding a tablespoon of witch hazel or 2 tablespoons of lemon juice. You can even add cucumber juice to the lotion to help with rashes, acne and blackheads. Add these to the lotion after it has cooled.

For smell, you can use rosewater instead of essential oil. Replace the rosewater with the regular water since rosewater has less fragrance than essential oil. You can use your lotion as an aromatherapy base. Experiment with it.

The risk of developing ovarian cancer can be reduced by drinking tea, a team of Swedish researchers says.

Karolinska Institute researchers found drinking at least two cups a day cut the risk by nearly 50%. Antioxidants in tea are thought to be the reason.

The team quizzed over 60,000 women, 301 of whom developed ovarian cancer.

The research revealed that 68% of women reported drinking tea - mainly black tea - at least once a month. During the study a total of 301 women were diagnosed with ovarian cancer.

-BBCNews.com, Tea 'reduces ovarian cancer risk'

Have I ever mentioned how much I love tea? I drink about 2-6 cups a day of varying sorts. In the mornings I stick to green tea, but in the afternoons and evenings I like my black teas. On the weekends I drink Oolong or White and the occassional Rooibos (red tea).

People have known for centuries (if not a millenia or two) that tea has healing properties. It prevents infection and does all sorts of nifty things. That it could help prevent me from getting ovarian cancer like my mum is wonderful news.

I have always loved tea. When I was a wee little bit, I once drank three pots of tea nearly by myself at a chinese restaurant. I vaguely remember this. My parents tell me about how I drank so much tea and they had to stop at a reststop on the way home to let me go to the bathroom. (I hated diapers a a child so I potty trained myself at a young age. That I do remember.) I think my affection for tea has been ingrained into my very soul. I simply adore it. Straight, with milk, lightly sweetened, with lemon... it doesn't matter, I love it all.

And just to rub it into coffee drinkers faces:

Researchers said they saw a 46% lower risk of ovarian cancer in women who drank two or more cups of tea per day compared with those who did not drink tea.

Women who drank one cup of tea a day had a 24% reduced risk, while those having less than one cup had 18% less risk.

Lead researcher Susanna Larsson said they had found no link between coffee consumption and the risk of ovarian cancer, but added more research was needed.

I must have mind powers because I found this article today after a short rant on tea yesterday on a mailing list I'm on (see previous post for said mailing list of stupidity).

I hate people.

Perhaps hate is too strong a word. Loath might be better.

I should also qualify the statement.

I loath stupid people.

I should also point out that stupid people are quite abundant. Most people, of course, to not believe they are stupid. I am stupid. I full well admit this. There are days i bang my head into the walls trying to do the simplest things and it makes me crazy.

But, some people seem to have those days every day.

I hate people who make me do their work because they are either 1) too fucking lazy or 2) too fucking stupid to do it themselves. Lately I seem to be surrounded from people of either column 1 or column 2 or both. I want to take my boot and ram it into their face (or their nut sack, whichever is closest) and do a little dance upon their moaning, agonized body.

Then there are the people I swear weho go out of their way to annoy me. I smile and nod until I feel like my face is going to crack.

Then there are the dumbasses on mailing lists who can't spell or create a complete and coherant sentance to save their lives. Gods above. I belong to an alternative healing mailing group because I like tea and herbs and the healing properties/chemical properties of such things interest me. I joined one group that I swear is led by someone who can't have passed High School. His emails are akin to what my little sister sends me. (And my little sister is mentally challenged ... that's PC for retarded.) It's like a child wrote them. And this person is a parent. It makes me want to weep, not for the dumbass, but for his offspring.

And people wonder why I don't want children?

What set me off was a little thing. The radio. I was listening to the radio and I heard someone talking on it and I thought one of my eyes was going to pop out of my skull into the windshield from a brain aneurism. The stupidity was that suffocating. (It didn't help that my carpool buddy had it on a station that is playing all Christmas music all the time.)

I think the next person who says something stupid to me will get a swift kick in the crotch.

And to YummY... I hate all people, but I do hate my radio listeners a little bit less than the average person. I am just a caustic bitch when I'm drunk and podcasting apparently.

When I get bored I am hopeless. I get bored often. I get bored when I have nothing to do, when things are too easy, when I have no motivation to do anything. I get bored and then I become a utterly useless person. I have been bored out of my fucking mind lately.

I am bored with roleplaying on Shadow Siege. I am bored with work. I am bored with reading. I bored with computers. I am bored and I need to be rejuvenated. I need something to give me a change of scene. Right now I could use a visit from my friends. I have very few friends here in Atlanta and it is depressing. Come to think of it, I have one friend here in Georgia. My husband. We have some family friends that we enjoy spending time with, but I have no friends my own age and it is depressing.

Back in school, it was around this time that my fellow Libra friends would meander by my house and weedle me out of my depression by walking me about the town and doing random and useless things. We'd go for tea and sushi. Or coffee and sandwiches. Or green chili cheese fries. Mmmmm... that's what I need, fries soaked in extra spicy green chili and cheese.

I'm just bored and depressed. I need something to do.

I think I'm going to start working out since I can't rid emy bike until the sun decides to stay up in the sky for a reasonable amount of time. I get home from work and its fucking dark and bloody cold and I can't ride now. It pisses me off. God damn daylight savings.

This also means I have to fork over money to join a gym. Money I don't really have to do this with.

I miss Mango's stories, so I'm listening to reruns of his show on Mango radio. It entertains me. My favorite of his shows is where he rants about the fat fuck who lives in his apartment building and laundry mats. Laundry mats are akin to purgatory. Crazy old ladies who fish for quarters, try to steal your minutes on the dryer, basket hoarding twats. Man. I love Mango's show.

Anyway, this week at work (this will show you how much I've had to do), I coloured this image I found. I didn't draw it because well, photoshop elements sucks butt. Why bother with that piece of shit, fucking pissed down version of photoshop? Bah! anyway, here is what I did. The woman reminds me strangely of Shannon Doherty.

I promised that if Hermes won Shitty Blog of the Month for november, I would make him a button. So, here is the Button I made for him. You should read The Dive Bar Verses It is actually a pretty damn good blog.

He really deserved the Shitty Blog of the Month in October as his blog is superior to mine in every way concievable. I however, flaunt my "pride" in my shittiness more and thus won out over him.

Hermes, You Black Emperor You, my hats off! Keep up the great work.

One year ago today, my Mother in Law died from cancer. She technically died of the lung cancer she was originally diagnosed with but in partial remission for. The brain tumor that flared up during her treatments was the most recent cancer she was treated for. It was the treatments that led to her ultimate death. They left her weak and unable to fight. I suspect it was a combination of the steroids and chemo they had her on. She had never taken well to Steroids and those truly just pushed her over the edge.

I don't really know why I am ruminating on this. I suppose it is because a year ago, I wasn't ready. Cancer is a horrible way to die. My Mother in Law went quite literally mad toward the end. She would rant and rave. She begged us to kill her, not because of the cancer, but because she was afraid everyone would think she was a drug addict. In the end, she gave up. She couldn't fight anymore.

The treatments had left her weak, unable to eat, and miserable. The downward spiral began when surgery was performed on the tumor that pressed up against her brainstem. She never recovered from this. After the surgery, she never walked again. The surgery was done simply to perform a biopsy on the tumor. It wasn't even cancerous. But, to treat the tumor, they had to do so like it was. The steroids they gave her to shrink the tumor made her hallucinate. They also left her in a perpetual state of nausea so she couldn't eat. The other drugs they had her on, created a sort of mock diabetes in her system so she also had to take insulin shots daily (and she was petrified of needles).

It was a horrible thing to watch. Her body became swollen from the drugs and her soul became gaunt and unfed. People with cancer whither away. Even if they gain weight, they whither away. You can watch the soul grow lean and angry or even insane. In the end, my Mother in Law was gone. She may have still been with us, but she wasn't there. The day I had to comfort my sobbing husband, I knew that she wasn't going to come back from where ever it was she went.

There are only two people I've ever seen him cry for and one of those people is me. That was the day she begged him to kill her. She laid her cards on the table and begged him. She was quite crazy by this point, but she wanted to die. She asked him to take care of me and his father and then asked him to put her out of her misery. She also ranted about the bugs crawling over her skin and inside her veins.

I wish I had gotten to know her better. I wish we had gotten more time with her. I wish a good many things.

But such is life.

Rest in Peace

Katheline Measles Stewart 1953 - 2004

Now, if anyone asks you what the difference is between Christmas and Chanukah you will know what and how to answer!

(I got this from my mum. It is silly so, only read if you want to. I am posting it for #9 & #12 because those amused me.)

1. Christmas is one day, same day every year, December 25. Jews also love December 25th. It's another paid day off work. We go to movies and out for Chinese food and Israeli dancing. Chanukah is 8 days. It starts the evening of the 24th of Kislev, whenever that falls. No one is ever sure. Jews never know until a non-Jewish friend asks when Chanukah starts*, forcing us to consult a calendar so we don't look like idiots. We all have the same calendar, provided free with a donation from the World Jewish Congress, the kosher butcher, or the local Sinai Memorial Chapel (especially in Florida) or other Jewish funeral home.

2. Christmas is a major holiday. Chanukah is a minor holiday with the same theme as most Jewish holidays. They tried to kill us, we survived, let's eat.

3. Christians get wonderful presents such as jewelry, perfume, stereos... Jews get practical presents such as underwear, socks, or the collected works of the Rambam, which looks impressive on the bookshelf.

4. There is only one way to spell Christmas. No one can decide how to spell Chanukah, Chanukkah, Chanukka, Channukah, Hanukah, Hannukah, etc.

5. Christmas is a time of great pressure for husbands and boyfriends. Their partners expect special gifts. Jewish men are relieved of that burden. No one expects a diamond ring on Chanukah.

6. Christmas brings enormous electric bills. Candles are used for Chanukah. Not only are we spared enormous electric bills, but we get to feel good about not contributing to the energy crisis.

7. Christmas carols are beautiful...Silent Night, Come All Ye Faithful.... Chanukah songs are about dreidels made from clay or having a party and dancing the hora. Of course, we are secretly pleased that many of the beautiful carols were composed and written by our tribal brethren. And don't Barbara Streisand and Neil Diamond sing them beautifully?

8. A home preparing for Christmas smells wonderful: the sweet smell of cookies and cakes baking. Happy people are gathered around in festive moods. A home preparing for Chanukah smells of oil, potatoes, and onions. The home, as always, is full of loud people all talking at once.

9. Christian women have fun baking Christmas cookies. Jewish women burn their eyes and cut their hands grating potatoes and onions for latkas on Chanukah. This is yet another reminder of our suffering through the ages.

10. Parents deliver to their children during Christmas. Jewish parents have no qualms about withholding a gift on any of the eight nights.

11. The players in the Christmas story have easy to pronounce names such as Mary, Joseph, and Jesus. The players in the Chanukah story are Antiochus, Judah Maccabee, and Matta whatever. No one can spell it or pronounce it. On the plus side, we can tell our friends anything and they believe we are wonderfully versed in our history.

12. Many Christians believe in the virgin birth. Jews think, "Yossela, Bubela, snap out of it. Your woman is pregnant, you didn't sleep with her, and now you want to blame G-d? Here's the number of my shrink".

13. In recent years, Christmas has become more and more commercialized. The same holds true for Chanukah, even though it is a minor holiday. It makes sense. How could we market a major holiday such as Yom Kippur? Forget about celebrating; think observing. Come to synagogue, starve yourself for 27 hours, become one with your dehydrated soul, beat your chest, confess your sins, a guaranteed good time for you and your family. Tickets a mere $200 per person. Better stick with Chanukah! Candles, gilt, and blue and silver wrapping paper.

Local people suggest hunger is driving squirrels to extremes.

Squirrels have bitten to death a stray dog which was barking at them in a Russian park, local media report. Passers-by were too late to stop the attack by the black squirrels in a village in the far east, which reportedly lasted about a minute.

They are said to have scampered off at the sight of humans, some carrying pieces of flesh.

-BBCNews.com Russian squirrel pack 'kills dog'

And just yesterday I was comparing one of the VP's at work to rabid squirrels. I swear I must have wacky mind powers. I love it, killer squirrels. Beware people, they're coming. Soon they'll start singing squirrelly songs, flinging exploding acorns, drinking coffee and writing snarky emails to fans. Just you wait and see.

And just think, today I was going to talk about tea, caffeine and theophylline. But, as with all things, raging, flesh eating squirrels take top priority.

Ack! I forgot to post the picture of said killer squirrels! Enjoy. They are black squirrels even. I'll bet they have red eyes and everything.

I am the youngest person in my company; out of all four branches (California, Boston, Atlanta and London). It's true. I thought the new guy was younger than me, but it turns out he's not. Damn.

I get treated like the brat here. Not because I'm stupid or because I'm a bitch, but just because I am the youngest. I have no kids to talk (brag) about. I don't own a house to talk (brag) about. I'm treated like the brat around here because apparently I have nothing interesting to say.

I am only treated like a kid in certain circles. These are the groups of people with n+ kids and houses to put them into.

I don't want kids. I have never wanted kids. Everyone tell me that will change in a few years, but I don't think it will. I don't have that motherly instinct. Hell, I hardly have that 'womanly' instinct. I hate to shop, I hate to gossip, I hate to dress up and wear make up to impress people. I tell people this and they just smile and nod like this will suddenly change overnight or something. I am 26 years old. (Yep, not all that young really.) If I was going to feel that motherly tug, wouldn't I have felt it by now? Do they think all women are guided by hormones? What is it? I have a brain and I rather enjoy using it.

Geh, now I sould like I'm bitching when I just wanted to point out that I'm the youngest person where I work and that it is occasionally awkward for me.