Nina’s birthday was on Thursday and Cat and I (being the good friends that we are) decided to throw a surprise party for her.
Nina, however, is the hardest person in the world to throw a surprise party for. She doesn’t surrender to the experience. Noooo, she digs and prods and asks leading questions hoping to get someone to talk.
I would never do such a thing.
We tried really hard, though. Cat make a secret FB invitation, I was super nonchalant all week, I tried throwing her off with another “surprise” because it would be weird if we ignored her birthday altogether, etc.
But when she arrived and we jumped out and yelled SURPRISE, she smiled and handed me a piece of paper. It said, “Surprise party at Vivienne’s.”
She wanted to prove that she could not be surprised.
I blame her husband; he doesn’t know shit about being sneaky.
For one, you have to create decoy events and highly plausible excuses for showing up at the surprise location. Instead he just told her that she had “birthday plans” at seven and took her to my house. Duh.
Next time anyone wants to be sneaky, come to me. I’m the master.
But you know what? There is nothing Nina likes more than being right and she really doesn’t like surprises so outsmarting us and not being surprised is probably the best possible outcome.
You’re welcome, Nina!
I made a Norwegian ice cream cake which she very unhelpfully did not give me the recipe for but you can find one here.
Only if I were to make it again (which I might because it was so good) I’d cut the sugar by half and put more coffee in it.
I made roasted vegetables with a lemon tahini dip, cilantro lime hummus, cheese platter, Courtney brought queso dip from Qdoba (Nina’s favorite), Cat brought donuts and riesling, and I made mini twice baked potatoes because cheesy carbs are Nina’s favorite thing.
Do you know what my favorite thing is? Those little twice baked potatoes dipped in queso, salsa and sour cream. Oh my god.
I like sour cream on everything. Like, don’t even have me over for taco night if you don’t have any sour cream.
Pamcakes is on vacation in some fancy Mexican resort and posted this …
I love her so much.
Anyway, I got up at six and started working on the party prep, finished by three, took a little nap with the dogs and then My Parasitic Twin arrived at 5 o’clock to help me pre-party-relax before the party started at six.
Do you know what we do to relax? We scream at each other.
Really, we overreact to everything the other person says and escalate immediately into a shouting match. It makes me so happy. I need to record us sometime when we are on a good tear.
And we take strangely staged pictures.
MPT was pretty impressed by all my party preparations. She said, “I can’t wait to see what you do for my birthday.”
It was a really fun party. Next time I won’t be all suprisey about it and start it earlier.
Unfortunately I had to shut it down at 9:00 because 1) I have a paying guest on the second floor who is super high maintenance and just the kind of person to write a negative review and I didn’t want to risk annoying her and 2) Loony and I had tickets to see Richard Cheese at the Boulder Theater thanks to Matt.
Richard Cheese takes popular music and turns it into a lounge act. He’s been at it for years and is really fun and his audience banter is golden.
Part of the fun is figuring out what song he has just loungified and his band is great, too.
This was my favorite song of the night.
Thanks for the tickets, Matt!
We got home around 11:00 and went to bed.
Bartleby is doing great at settling in but he has been peeing on everything. It turns out he has a urinary tract infection.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to hear that one of my pets is sick but in this case it explains why he can’t seem to hold it.
Looking at him closely I think he is part dachshund, or wiener dog. His body is a little long, his legs are a little short, his front legs are turned out just so, his coat is extra soft (like a doxy) and the color is an interesting foxy red.
So I looked up some pictures on the internet of chihuahua-wiener mixes, aka The Chiweenie.
Tell me that doesn’t look exactly like Bart! The color, the face, the Popeye forelegs?
Mostly I think his a chiweenie because I like saying weenie. Or wiener. I like saying both those things.
Here’s a cute video of him watching TV with me.
He’s still wearing a bandana around his waist/penis because I don’t trust him not to lift his leg.
You know what I found out about chiweenies? They are very territorial of their people. Bartleby is territorial about my crotch.
I know that sounds sexual but it isn’t. He just loves sleeping in my crotch, or Loony’s if mine isn’t available.
He loves to snuggle up in there for the night. I’ve started doubling up on panties because I think he actually wants to climb up inside my vagina which is CLOSED FOR BUSINESS.
And now he’s super territorial about it.
Last night Loonie and I were about to have marital relations and as things started moving in that direction, Bartleby started letting out a very menacing growl. As Loony got closer it escalated into a snarly/growly/bitey kind of vibe.
Loony: How long is this, um, sleeping arrangement going to last?
Me: I don’t know, 15 years? How long do these dogs live? I mean, that’s why I got a tiny dog. They are so great in bed, just all snuggly and sleepy all the time.
I think Chiweenies could be on the vanguard of chastity technology. You just wear one of them in your panties like a chastity belt and voila! A vagina dentata.
(Oh my god. DO NOT image search vagina dentata. Seriously, trust me.)
If anyone gets near your delicate regions, a tiny dog will jump out and bite your assailer.