In honor

of St. Patrick's Day, the local classic rock station played 'Whiskey in the Jar,' a U2 song, and a Van Morrison song all in a row. It seemed a good omen for last night's 4.14 mile run, so I put on my neon green long-sleeved shirt (courtesy of the Stockade-athon, which I highly recommend) and set off with hubs and the dog. About half a mile in, when the past 3 weeks of complete inactivity threatened to completely derail my motivation, I had the following conversation with myself:

-God, why do I run? This is the worst activity everrrr.
-Shut up and stop whining, you sound like A.Leo.
-Nice. Real friendly.
-Seriously. Try singing in your head, that usually helps.
-I can't think of any good songs. I hate this.
-There's whiskey in the jar-o!
-You're right! There is whiskey in the jar-o!

And so for the remainder of the run, I sang the chorus over and over. And over and over and over. I think I need to learn some of the other words to the song.

Here it is for your viewing and listening pleasure.

Brobee.

Cutie patootee Carly turned one over the weekend, so I offered to make a cake for her Yo Gabba Gabba-themed party. When I first decided to do this, Marissa was going to help me with the decorating, as she is far more artistically inclined than I. But one week before the party, everyone she'd invited RSVP'd yes, so I suggested that instead of both of us stressing over the cake, I'd just take care of it on my own. Secretly I was pleased because I am not good at working with someone else in the kitchen. Ask hubs. He knows to stay the hell out of my way.

And so I created a monster. Seriously. I felt like Dr. Frankenstein. I diced and spliced and iced. And this is what turned out:

I learned several lessons. One, don't try to draw eyes upside down because they turn out crooked and funny looking. Two, if someone says to you, "don't you think you should smooth it out more," you probably should. Three, never underestimate the sheer amount of frosting required to cover one and a half 9x13 cakes. And four, it is not wise to start a project of this nature without first eating breakfast.

In the top right you can see the little smash cake I sloppily iced for Carly. I wish I'd had the motivation to make that into a character, too, but apparently I ran out of steam.