Resolutions of a 49 Year Old Muffin Top

Itty Bitty Consulting has made a little bit of progress and landed a couple of teeny tiny projects this week. Fingers crossed Team Tuna that we will have a banging successful year. That will provide me an opportunity to get out of the cul de sac and new fodder for future posts. Otherwise I will have to continue to post pictures of Penelope the faithful Labrador.

As we know, it’s always important to set goals for the upcoming year that are reasonable and attainable. I mean shit, you’d hate to get the end of December and realize that you didn’t clean the lint out of your belly button or go to Newark if it were on your to do list. I will be ringing in the new year at Bebe’s house, that way if I get too sloshed I can stumble the 5 blocks home. Maybe the Big Tuna will give me a piggy back ride. Here are my promises to keep.

• I WILL NOT get a tramp stamp. Not only am I a bit of a chicken shit about pain, I’m afraid it will emphasize my back fat. The last thing any of us need is a tattoo on a roll like paper towels.

• I WILL give up vodka forever. Nearly 30 years ago, minutes before I met the Big Tuna and true love, I worked as a bartender. The bonus to serving booze in a small town is all other bartenders at all other bars serve you for free. Bad, bad, bad New Year’s Eve and unrestricted Stolichnaya’s on the rocks. I seriously could not drink any liquor for about 2 years. Any whiff of vodka makes me gag to this day. Naturally I was able to ease myself back in with wine over ice instead.

• I vow NOT to start any craft projects that I will not finish. This should be pretty easy. I am not allowed to play with art supplies according to my family. I think they are afraid I might become a huffer or crazy glue myself to something completely inappropriate.

• I WILL continue to do wine reviews. Last week my favorite wine supplier sent me a new sample. Wheeeee!!! Free Wine!!! Ahem, I mean an opportunity to write a critical review of a fine chardonnay.

I am currently sporting a freaking inner tube around my middle so you will all have to suffer with me and low fat fare. Hopefully it won’t taste like cardboard.

Honey Ginger Sweet Potatoes
4 large sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into half inch pieces
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon dark sesame oil
1 tablespoon honey
1 teaspoon minced ginger
1 teaspoon grated lime zest
2 tablespoons lime juice
½ teaspoon salt
1/3 cup thinly sliced green onions

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Toss potatoes with 1 tablespoon olive oil and place in a single layer on a baking sheet. Bake until tender, stirring once approximately 30 minutes. Meanwhile whisk together remaining olive oil, sesame oil, honey, ginger, lime and salt in large bowl. Add hot cooked potatoes and toss gently to coat. Stir in scallions.

My final commitment? I WILL NOT spit out my wine at tasting events. I mean that’s like blasphemy right? What a waste. On the other hand asking for ice flunks me out of sommelier school for dummies too. Here’s to wishing all you in Tunaville a happy and prosperous new year.

Social Tourette’s

So I know you’re all thinking, “what the heck, why only one lonely post by Mrs. Tuna this month”. For somebody on school break and unemployed I’m so ridiculously out of time.  The final grades as an Urban Planning rock star are finally in. I ended the semester with a wait for it, wait for it, 4.33 GPA. As an unemployed somebody I had lots of time to do all those stupid extra credit projects.  

Since I can’t land a full time job as an uncover recipe blogger I’ve decided to translate my mad skills into a new venture. That’s me, freelance engineer by day, blogger by night. But as you all know, I’ve got Social Tourette’s. My ability to fill vocal airspace is second to none, I can converse with the generally awkward and the smarmy sales forces.   This is similar to Verbal Diarrhea except I shout things out rather than babble endlessly.  

I’ve spent the last two weeks running around setting up an LLC, a business account and a fab webpage extorting my skill set.  

• Itty Bitty Consultants  provides services to supplement your engineering and planning needs.(Hidden Meaning: since you’ve laid everybody who’s not upper management off, you might need someone who can actually produce work).

• We have more than two decades in the public and private engineering industry and bring experienced staff to facilitate the success of your project. (Hidden Meaning:  Yeah, I’m old, I’ve bit at this sh*t a long ass time. I would have accurately reported it at three decades but you would have viewed me as washed up and bitter).

• Every project is important, whether it’s small or large, and its success hinges on the “behind the scenes” efforts which are crucial to ensure that projects run smoothly. (Hidden Meaning: We’re not proud, we’ll design your tiny teeny parking lot or your 9000 lot master planned community. Shoot we’ll pick your kids up from daycare if the price is right).

Here’s a little glaze recipe to go on your Christmas Ham.

Currant-Mustard Glaze

6 ounce jar red currant jelly (this can sometimes be hard to find, I’ve been successful at Safeway)

6 ounces Golden’s mustard

1 can pineapple rings

1 jar cherries

Cloves

1 Ham (this should be obvious)

Trim excess fat from ham and score. Place on rack in shallow baking dish. In small saucepan combine jelly and mustard and heat over low flame until simmering. Remove from heat. Put pineapple rings on ham and affix with cloves. Place cherry in center of each ring. Pour glaze over ham and cook according to weight. Save some of the glaze to put on the table like gravy.

I’ve organized Sheldon’s old bedroom into my corporate headquarters. If I could get the Total Gym out it would be the perfect space.  Maybe Chuck Norris will stop by and show me the proper technique so I don’t end up strangling myself by accident.  At least my new coworkers seem pretty nice and laid back.

The food orgy know as Christmas is this weekend. Me? I’ll be in Yuma, I’m sure a redneck post will follow. Have an amazing holiday everyone!!!

PS Don't forget to Like Mrs. Tuna on Facebook

The Stocking Box

Sorry, sorry, sorry, I’ve been fixating on stupid things like Public Participation Techniques and Canberra-A New Vision of Urban Form. I’ve had no time to leave witty comments on your blogs and as we all know, if you don’t give you don’t receive.  Fracking Finals are over, I’m just waiting for them to post my end of term grades to reconfirm that I too can be a card carrying smarty pants. Move over Sheldon, mommy has a 4.11 GPA. I completed my group projects with a minimum of bullying. One a-hole who missed every team meeting was snarky enough to actually say, “well some of us have jobs”. He’s lucky I didn’t give him a major wedgie and pull his tighty whiteties  over his head.  

But now it’s time to get into the holiday spirit, spending money I don’t have on crap no one really needs. As many of you may or may not know I grew up the middle of the pack of seven ruffians.  There is only an eight year distance between the oldest mal content and the itty bitty Christmas baby. There was one year that we were all teenagers at the same time. Shudder.  My parents swore they had electric shock therapy to block out the good, the bad and the ugly.  

With so many of hooligans my parents devised a system of spreading their monopoly money around to make the day special. They invested their efforts in filling our stockings with a variety of doo dads. The rule was we could not go downstairs until the parents who toiled until midnight got up. To keep us busy they loaded up boxes to hold all our treasures rather than a simple stocking.  It would hold the usually candy and underwear but it was filled with little personal things for each of us.  Books and puzzles. Gold hooped earrings and new horse brushes. Little miniature animals to add to my growing collection. 

As we got older, we passed this tradition to include our own children and spouses.  But it’s officially out of control, the Big Tuna gets things like beer and slinky nighties for me to model and some wrench that is more like a Swiss army knife.  We spend more money on filling the stocking box then we spend on actual presents. It’s a goal to fill them to the brim and bring squeals of joy . This week we have a special recipe, homemade Bailey’s. Yum!

Homemade Bailey’s Irish Cream

3 eggs

1 ½ Tablespoon chocolate syrup

1 can eagle brand evaporated milk

1 pint half and half

1 cup blended rum

½ cup dark rum

Combine ingredients and blend on high. Serve over ice. This receipe is a heck of a lot cheaper than the original and tastes just as good.

But it is a time of family, where we instantly fall back into our juvenile roles on days of our misspent youth. Playing endless games of remember when. The holidays always create flashbacks to embarrassing stories that we can trot out to various existing and potential in laws for maximum mortification.

• Like the time 14 year old Marky Mark got busted for stealing the copper down drain off the church. Apparently, God forgives if the price of precious metals is high enough.

• Or the time an underage brother got busted for carrying beer. When queried by the coppers he gave up an older brother pretty darn quick. This resulted in a $50 fine, my mom was so irritated for the tattling she made them split the cost.

• Or the time an older sibling took me the movies to see Woody Allen’s “Everything you wanted to know about sex but were afraid to ask”. Well apparently I was asking lots of questions, in a very loud voice,  not at all phased by desperate shushing pleadings.   I’m lucky the men dressed as swimming sperm didn’t scar me for life.

Or the recent recounting of the Tooth Fairy. When going thru my mom’s things we came across a sweet letter from my Sistah addressed to Fairy Dust Lane.

Dear Tooth Fairy, I am sorry I lost my tooth. If you don't believe me you may ask one of your closest friends Mrs. Aldorf Smith. Yours truely, Ruth

As I recalled that she was always a bit of a suck up and wondered if I too had penned a begging letter, my brother Pauly  said, “I bet it said Bitch, we need more dough” And sure enough further in the stack was mine.

 Dear Tooth Fairy, I think we should have a raise in our tooth money. I think a half a buck would be all right. Sign, Dawn

No one ever said I was very subtle.  Hopefully Santa will overlook my naughtiness and fill my Stocking Box with wine and cheese. Happy holiday Team Tuna! X0X0X0

PS Don't forget to like Mrs. Tuna on Facebook.