Cake Eater Chronicles

If You've Got Some Spare Change Lying Around...

...and that spare change adds up to, roughly, twenty million dollars, well, you could spend it on one of the few remaining copies of the Magna Carta.

Yeah. The Magna Carta.

A rare copy of the Magna Carta, the document that enshrined human rights in English law, is to be sold in New York.

The copy owned by the Perot Foundation is expected to fetch more than $20m (£9.94m), auctioner Sotheby's says.

The copy on sale, dating from 1297, was bought by Ross F Perot in 1984 and is the only one in private ownership.

King John sealed the original Magna Carta in 1215, outlawing imprisonment and the seizure of property without due legal process, including trial by jury.

The Perot 1297 manuscript, bearing the seal of King Edward I, is due to go on auction in December.

It was on view until recently in the National Archives in Washington.{...}

If you were, for instance, a Russian oligarch, who could usually be counted on to have more money than sense---i.e. you buy soccer teams rather than investing sensibly; you buy your dumbass girlfriend boobs, ass implants and then lavish those plastic parts with jewelry; you, like the Japanese purchase of Rockefeller Center in the 80's, invest in London real estate at the height of the market, etc.----this would be your chance to prove to the world that you are, indeed, not an idiot. You could then hand it over to Vlad the Impaler, er, coughcough, Vladmir Putin, to try and buy your way back into Mother Russia. You are, after all, missing the borscht and for all your money were unable to find someone to make it just like Mom used to. But that's neither here nor there---you want back into Mother Russia and this is just the thing to get you there.

Ah...ain't it fun when your imagination takes off on a flight of fancy? God only knows who's going to buy the thing.

It'll probably be Steven Spielberg or some idiot movie star, and then they'll use it not only as a tax break, but will hold it up to decry the tyranny of the Bush Administration, etc.

Random Bits and Bobs

Because I can...

• Dearest Jonathan went to a Second Life convention in Chicago. You can read all about the skeeze factor here. Or not.
• Heh. Just for the record, I voted for the asterisk.

  Methinks no one will get their panties in a bunch about it, ala Roger Maris, either.

• I've found a new (to me, at least) foodie blog that I'm enjoying tremendously: Ruhlman.com.

  A few years back, when we were in the first ring of Entreprenurial Hell (tm), as opposed to the ninth ring we were dumped into shortly thereafter, the husband and I were in San Francisco for a convention. Precisely two months prior to a day of our choosing during our stay, the husband spent a good portion of that morning dialing and redialing The French Laundry, until he finally got through and managed to secure a nine p.m., six-top reservation. We were lucky to get it. (I think it's easier, midweek, to get a large table, rather than a table for two.) That night, we had what is still, four years later, the best dining experience we've ever had.

  I even managed to have a mini-orgasm during the "Delice au Chocolat et Caramel," with caramel "anglaise" and chocolate "dentelle", dessert course. (Yes, we still have the menu. That tell you anything?)

  The husband, inspired to no end by the experience, then proceeded to buy The French Laundry Cookbook, which, to paraphrase Bourdain from A Cook's Tour, is the closest thing to food pr0n that you're likely to find. It's a lovely cookbook, and it's a treasured addition to my collection. I just never use it because it's incredibly wasteful. One sauce that you use to simply poach lobster claws takes an entire pound of unsalted butter, if I'm remembering correctly. I think we all know, my devoted Cake Eater readers, I'm waaaaay too cheap for that. Wastefulness aside, it's still a gorgeous, well-written cookbook, and Michael Ruhlman, the proprietor of Ruhlman.com, is partly responsible for it.

  Among other things on his blog, he's currently on a kick to replace the chicken you'll find in many a Caesar salad with chicken fried pork belly. While I would prefer some nice strips of steak, this move must nonetheless be applauded by everyone who's suffered through a dried-out chicken breast being dumped unceremoniously on their Caesar, when all they were looking for was a little protein to go with the highly nutritional lettuce.

  If you're a foodie, I highly recommend checking the blog out. It's a lot of fun.

• Because the mailbag tells me that some people might be interested, (although, God only knows why, since I've blabbered on enough about it) the recovery from chemo is going well, thanks for asking. Thanks to repeated shots of Aranesp, we've got the anemia beat, I believe, and all the white cell numbers are finally back in line, too. It seems I've got an immune system, just in time for cold and flu season! Woohoo! The neuropathies are still an issue, but they, too, are getting better, only very slowly. I've even got more fuzz on the top of my head, and it's my usual color, too, instead of the pure white stuff that came in at first. Also, wonder of wonders, I have my eyebrows back. I have more energy than I've had all year long, but I've still got a bit of work to do to get back to 100%---although, God only knows what that might be, because, as I've realized, I haven't been 100% for so long---more than a year, at least---that I don't know what it feels like.

  In any case, I'm feeling good. And that's a distinct improvement.

• Just beautiful.
• Through the husband's work, I've met a fabulous man by the name of Christopher Hopkins.

  His name might be ringing a bell with those of you, my devoted Cake Eater readers, who watch Oprah as he's been on there more than a few times, to my understanding, and generally performs all the makeovers on her show. He is also responsible for the ReVamp Salon/Spa in Uptown, where I now get my (fabulous) pedicures. He's a wonderful man, with a great sense of humor and I can personally attest to the fact that he's a sheer wonder with scissors, as he's now cutting the husband's hair. Seriously. He's amazing. The husband's locks (and, yes, he has long, luscious locks that, occasionally, drive me to fits of intense jealousy in my bald state, particularly when I have to clean up after he sheds.) have never looked better. Yet, hair cutting is only a small part of the wonders Christopher can work, and since he's now got a blog, you, too, can benefit from his advice.

  Check it out, kids. If only for the phrase, "Bling on your butt puts junk in your trunk."

• Finally! A "fair and balanced" iPhone review. Heh. (I should caution that this link is not for the faint of heart.)

• Good girls!
• I'm going to the beach next week. The only problem with this scenario is that I needed a new swimsuit. Sigh. Try finding a swimsuit on the racks in Minnesota in September. I dare you. You'll have better luck finding a rhino in Yellowstone. If you can find one to begin with, it's most likely ugly as sin, or revealing beyond belief, as all the good, normal-sized suits that cover your ass were snapped up in May. I had to resort to shopping online and I have to say, surprisingly, I found this to be quite fun. It has all the fun of shopping, but none of the inglorious squeezing into suits in the dressing room while you're still wearing your underwear. This is also good if you've recently acquired a nine and a half inch vertical scar on your belly. No one, and I repeat, no one wants to be confronted with, "Good God! How'd you get that?" while they're trying on swimsuits. Or to be told, "Do you really think you should be going for the tankini option?" It's just adding insult to injury.

  I ordered this in apple green and blueberry, with navy blue on the bottom, and I'm confident no one on the beach will be any the wiser. I may be mostly bald, kids, but no one needs to know about the scar, even though this choice of swimsuit is directly related to it, as it's still sensitive, even all these months later. The top is loose enough that it shouldn't be too much of a bother, while it's fitted enough not to make me look like I'm six months pregnant. And, because it's Talbots, I know the sizes I ordered will fit me perfectly.

  And they're 75% off, too! Wooohoo!

  All in all, I'm a happy girl, which is not something you could normally say about me after purchasing a swimsuit.

That should do you for a time, my devoted Cake Eater readers.

If there are any of you still out there.

That About Sums It UP

Honestly, does anything more need to be said?

Well, just this: I really wish that fucker had gone down to Ground Zero and had the shit beat out of him.

But, really, that's almost too much to hope for.

How Does That Work Out?

I haven't been really paying too much attention to the whole Britney debacle, but I did make the mistake of clicking on one article about Britney's ex-bodyguard offering testimony in her custody case.

The ex-bodyguard hired Gloria Allred to represent him and here's the bit that I don't understand.

{...}Tony Barretto, 28, arrived with a lawyer but Family Court Commissioner Scott M. Gordon held only a brief open session before clearing the courtroom of everyone but attorneys for Spears and Federline to privately discuss unsealing documents in the ongoing case.

Outside court, Barretto's attorney Gloria Allred issued a statement calling him a "key and secret witness."

{my emphasis}

So, if this Baretto character is a "key and secret witness" why is his attorney announcing his presence to the world?

Seriously. I don't know why anyone hires Gloria Allred to represent them when it's patently obvious that the only person she actually cares to represent is herself.

Because I Need to Get Back Into the Swing of Things

And what better way to do that than with a meme!

Take the jump if you're interested in some "serious" Q&A time.

{Filched, per usual, from Robbo}

1. Is your second toe longer than your first?

Yep. Do you have a problem with that?

2. Do you have a favorite type of pen?

Fountain pens. Love, love, LOOOOOVE fountain pens. I have a lovely Waterman the husband bought me for our second anniversary. It's green marble with gold accents and I adore it. I love that, because it has a gold nib and over the years has adjusted itself to my style of writing, the pressure I exert, etc., it only works properly for me. It's just a bitch finding ink cartridges for it. For daily use, the Pilot Precise V7 rolling ball works just fine.

3. Look at your planner for March 14, what are you doing?

I have no freakin' clue. My calendar doesn't even go to March 14th.

4. What color are your toenails usually?

A nice dark red. Today, however, they are unadorned and are in desperate need of a pedicure. If for no other reason than to hide the second toe on my left foot, which is a nice purple because I stubbed it last week.

5. What was the last thing you highlighted?

{Wracks brain} Probably a journal article Dr. Academic gave me which listed out all sorts of reasons (and most of them were worthwhile, unfortunately) why six treatments of chemotherapy was better than three.

6. What color are your bedroom curtains?

Don't have bedroom curtains. We have blinds.

7. What color are the seats in your car?

Don't have a car.

8. Have you ever had a black and white cat?

Uh, no. The husband. Deathly allergic. All that really needs to be said.

9. What is the last thing you put a stamp on?

Probably the envelope that contained the rent check. Pesky landlord doesn't have an online option.

10. Do you know anyone who lives in Wyoming?

I thought Wyoming was Dick Cheney's personal fiefdom and that the only people who actually lived there were his indentured servants. Which leads us to all sorts of interesting questions about whether or not indentured servants really are people, etc.

11. Why did you withdraw cash from the ATM the last time?

That's the husband's domain. He gets a thrill from cash that I don't. Let him have his jollies where he can find them.

12. Whose is the last baby that you held?

My friend Katie's.

13. Unlucky #?

If I knew that, don't you think I'd have better things to do, like avoiding it at every possible turn?

14. Do you like Cinnamon toothpaste?

Never tried it. But I generally think that cinnamon flavored toothpaste is one of the signs of the coming apocalypse. Don't believe me? Go and look in Revelations. I'm sure it's in there, somewhere.

15. What kind of car were you driving 2 years ago?

Why, no car at all, thank you ever so bloody much.

16. Pick one: Miami Hurricanes or Florida Gators?

Must I?

17. Last time you went to Six Flags?

Never been. Not a roller coaster junkie. Never have been. Never will be. I do, however, remember a stopover at Six Flags' water park circa 1984.

18. Do you have any wallpaper in your house?

Nope. Thankfully.

19. Closest thing to you that is yellow?

A large pad of lined post-it notes.

20. Last person to give you a business card?

I'm assuming they mean an actual hand-off, as opposed to a card attached to paperwork received in the mail. If so, it was Dr. Fuzzy Sweater, who sliced and diced my reproductive system right out of my body. She gave it to me while I was in my hospital bed and high as a kite on percocet. I don't think that was the best time for that particular action, as it seemed very contrived and out of place, but who am I to judge? I was stoned at the time; my observations are not to be trusted.

21. Who is the last person you wrote a check to?

The landlord.

22. Closest framed picture to you?

A photograph of the Chicago skyline, taken from Lake Michigan, at night, with a full moon overhead.

23. Last time you had someone cook for you?

Last night's dinner. Cooked by someone at the neighborhood joint. A fabulous vegetarian lasagna with sliced potatoes where the noodles generally should have been. I would have preferred noodles.

24. Have you ever applied for welfare?

Sigh. Yes. Cancer isn't cheap. When you're caught in Entrepreneurial Hell(TM) and find yourself without insurance, you suck up your pride and ask for help. I still can't get over the lingering feeling of shame, though. Although, the shame is much, much less every time I get a bill from the oncologist's office, detailing out just how much each bag of taxol and carboplatin, the IV tubing, the chair rental (yes, they actually charged for that!) costs. And we're not even talking about the bill for the surgery (They charged for the gauze they used to mop up the mess. And the blood transfusions, which I don't quite know how they get away with because the blood is donated, fer chrissakes.) or for how much Dr. Academic gets for a consultation. The incidentals are cheap in comparison.

Happily, though, when my first six months were up, we had to reapply and we were shut down. I now have to pay a premium and I'm thrilled about it.

25. How many emails do you have?

I'm assuming they mean addresses. In which case, I have two.

26. Last time you received flowers?

When I was in the hospital. The first day after the surgery, I kept the volunteers busy delivering them. While I did receive several lovely bouquets of flowers, the best "arrangement" came from here. Too bad I didn't get to eat more of it.

27. Do you think the sanctity of marriage is meant for only a man & woman?

Depends. If you're talking church marriage, then the church in question gets to marry whomever it wants. If you're talking civil ceremonies, it should be available to whomever wants to get married.

28. Do you play air guitar?

Ah, not since 1988.

29. Has anyone ever proposed to you?

Yep. I'm still married to him. How could I not be? He cut the knot off his favorite yo-yo to use as an impromptu ring. That's romance for ya, kids.

30. Do you take anything in your coffee?

Sugar and cream. And by "cream" I mean Half-n-Half. None of that wimpy milk crap for my coffee.

31. Do you have any Willow Tree figurines?

Eh?

32. What is/was your high school's rival mascot?

I don't even think my high school had a rival. Seriously.

33. Last person you spoke to from high school?

I have studiously avoided having anything to do with my high school. I didn't have a good time there, hence I don't want to have a damn thing to do with the place. Unfortunately, I have several family members who did have a good time there---and who refuse to understand my position---one of whom is related to someone who works there. I was a missing alumnae before this relative got hold of my information and handed it over to the fundraising committee. One night, out of the blue, I got a call from this girl who'd been in my class, soliciting me for a donation. They even sang the school's fight song for me during the call, which was funny because they didn't realized they'd been had. A week later, I sent a notice to the school that I wanted nothing to do with them, that they'd better take my name off their mailing list, and if they didn't do so, I would report them, a non-profit organization, to the Nebraska Attorney General for violating the rules associated with non-profits. (If you're on a non-profit mailing list, and don't want to be on it, you simply have to ask to have your name removed and they have to do it. For them to do otherwise is against the rules and they could lose their non-profit status as a result.)

Haven't heard a word from them since.

34. Last time you used hand sanitizer?

Ummm. Once. Years ago. I decided it was too sticky for regular use.

35. Would you like to learn to play the drums?

No. One drummer per household, I believe, is the rule, and this household is full up.

36. What color are the blinds in your living room?

Beige.

38. Last thing you read in the newspaper?

A commentary in today's Financial Times regarding the treatment of companies who use animal testing. Surprisingly, the editorial board was in favor of not treating them like pariahs.

39. What was the last pageant you attended?

Never been to a pageant. Thank God.

40. What is the last place you bought pizza from?

Davanni's. Only because the neighborhood pizza joint was closed for Labor Day weekend.

41. Have you ever worn a crown?

I believe the last time I patronized Burger King with my sister, Christi, and her unruly crew of children, a crown might have been involved.

42. What is the last thing you stapled?

God only knows what.

43. Did you ever drink clear Pepsi?

I don't drink Pepsi, period.

44. Are you ticklish?

Yep and I'm not ashamed of it. I was born this way. There's not much I can do about it. Which is contrary to the "wisdom" of a massage therapist I had once upon a time, who claimed ticklishness was the result of years of pent-up stress.

What can I say? The guy was a quack.

45. Last time you saw fireworks?

The Fourth of July. I hear them often, however, in the summertime.

46. Last time you had a Krispy Kreme doughnut?

August 10th. It was a bad, bad day and I needed a little sugar high to make it better.

47. Who is the last person that left you a message & you actually returned it?
I resent the implication that I would be rude enough to not return a message. As far as the last message returned, it would be when my brother called yesterday.

48. Last time you parked under a carport?

March 2003. Which was the last time I was at my sister ML's house. She's the only person I know who has a carport.

49. Do you have a black dog?

No.

50 . Have you had your mid life crisis yet?

Nah.

51. Are you an aunt or uncle?

Yes. {Insert counting on fingers here} I have twenty-three nieces and nephews and one grand niece.

Oy.

52. Who has the prettiest eyes that you know of?

The husband. He has pretty blue eyes, that can and do go green on occasion, and they're fringed by lovely, thick lashes that I would kill to have. Particularly now that I've got pure white lashes, that haven't grown in enough to coat with mascara.

53. What kind of soap or body wash do you use?

White Rain Ocean Mist body wash. It's only a buck and it works like a charm!

54. Do you remember Ugly Kid Joe?

Sadly, yes.

55. Do you have a little black dress?

Strangely enough, no. I do have many little black sweaters and many little black skirts and pants, but no LBD. It's quite sad, actually.

I Can't Quite Help Myself

Since I'm sure that you, my devoted Cake Eater readers, are not only devoted, but are also some savvy web surfers, I'm sure you've already seen the inaugural ad-campaign for Tom Ford for Men.

In case you haven't and for once I'm much savvier than you, well, take the jump. I will warn people now (AND YES, MOM, THIS MEANS YOU!) that it could be construed as not really all that arty-farty but actually fairly offensive. If not altogether pr0nographic. If you're of the faint of heart, DON'T TAKE THE FREAKIN' JUMP, EH?

And, more importantly, don't say I didn't warn you.

What the fuck, eh, my devoted Cake Eater Readers. You can go hereand see the actual ad campaign.

I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've posted a picture of c00ch on my blog. I'm also fairly certain it will be the last, so revel in the naughtiness of it all!

Anyway, I have a few questions/comments regarding this product.

Ahem

1. Is it supposed to smell like c00ch? If so, perhaps Eau du Cod would have been a better name.

2. Is it actually supposed to help you, the average heterosexual male, get more c00ch. One can only suppose that this advertising campaign is supposed to (er) drive this point home, eh? (Oh, stop the obviousness already!) The only problem I have with this is, er, is Tom Ford really the guy you want helping you obtain said c00ch?

He is, in all actuality, a pretty good designer, but women the world over know that this is the fucker who was singlehandedly responsible for the thong trend of the late nineties. He started the whole ball rolling with that piece of crap that he designed for Gucci---you know, the one with the big 'G' above the ass crack. He's the one who's responsible for the resurgence of butt floss. Most women, like myself, talked a good game when it came to thongs, that really, they weren't that bad once you got used to them, but really, we hated having that thing where it wasn't supposed to be. Tom Ford is at fault for this. Knowing this, and knowing that most women would have him castrated for such an affront, I ask you again, my devoted Cake Eater readers, is he really the guy you want helping you in this department?

3. Is that one heck of a wax job or what? Too bad the rest of us can't p'shop our, erm, assets.

Less razor burn that way, I suspect.

4. Well, at least it's not yet another cleavage shot. Is it just me or does it seem beyond ironic that the c00ch should be sexualized in the same way breasts generally are?

Weird, eh?

Excellent Memory

To: The jihadi m*therf**k*rs who occasionally make their way here via Google
From: Me

Don't think we've forgotten. We haven't.

And we never will.

Pavarotti is a Tenor, Paganini Was a Composer

Ahem. I present you, my devoted Cake Eater readers, with The Hunt for Red October:

Watson: Seaman Jones here is into music in a big way, and he views this whole boat as his own personal, private stereo set. Well, one day he's got this piece of Pavarotti...

Seaman Jones: It was Paganini.

Watson: Whatever.

Seaman Jones: It was Paganini.

Watson: Look, this is my story, okay?

Seaman Jones: Then tell it right, COB. Pavarotti is a tenor, Paganini was a composer.

Watson: So anyway, he's got this music out in the water, and he's listening to it on his headsets, and he's just happy as a clam. And then all hell breaks loose. See, there's this whole slew of boats out in the water...

Seaman Jones: Including one WAY out at Pearl!

Watson: Including one way the hell out at Pearl. All of a sudden, they start hearing...

Beaumont: Pavarotti!

Watson: Coming up their asses!

I won't confess to knowing much about opera. I don't even really know all that much about Pavarotti, but I, like much of the world, can at least recognize a big, fat, gorgeous voice, overflowing with passion, when I hear it.

Here's the only Pavarotti I have in my music collection. U2's Miss Sarajevo.

Pavarotti could simply be singing "I have a wedgie" repeatedly and I would have no idea, but damn, ain't it the most gorgeous wedgie-whine you've ever heard? His vocals take the song to a whole different level.

RIP, big man. RIP.

Ladies and Gentlemen...

We have fuzz.

(the photo is after the jump. Best viewed by hitting the permalink option, so you have full page glory)

You might have a little trouble seeing it, but I know it's there.

And that's all that really matters.

UPDATE: Good Lord, I really need to clean the bathroom mirror. Spotty.