Confessions of a Check Card Addict

New Year's Eve.

Who was it that called it Amateur's Night?

The 'chick has no grand plans for the evening and to be honest, it's a relief. Last year, the 'chick went out with a group of friends, to a bar, and it was fun but it wasn't fun. It will not be repeated this year.

This year, Roadchick and Rockboy are going to pick up chicken from KFC and go to Redneck's house to eat and watch movies and possibly play cards with Redneck and Skaterboy. The 'chick fully intends to be home long before the DUIs are on the road.

Redneck, bless his heart, had to work today and considering that he and the 'chick stayed up late watching a movie and got next to no sleep, he's going to be tired. 2 hours of sleep and a 10 hour shift will do that to you. The 'chick suspects that he'll be sound asleep by the time midnight rolls around.

The 'chick has been thinking about resolutions. She's never much on making them because she knows how lazy she is and knows that it's destined to end in failure, so, for the most part, she does not indulge.

But.

There is one thing that the 'chick IS going to do this year and she's actually already started. She is going to get her finances in order. It's not that she's in debt or anything like because she's not. Other than a car payment, she does not owe beyond the regular bills every month.

What happened is this: her check card makes it too easy to spend, spend, spend and not keep careful track of how much money is actually left. There have been days toward the end of a pay period where the 'chick holds her breath, wondering if there is enough to get through until her next check hits the bank.

This is stupid, y'all. And laziness on her part. And shameful.

Yes. You've got it:

The 'chick is too lazy to write down her receipts and subtract them.

And she is vain enough to think that the vague, "running total" she has in her head is even remotely close to correct.

But, no more.

She's trying to operate on more of a cash basis because it's easier to subtract a big, round number and then pay as she goes. Much less subtraction too. So far, so good.

The 'chick hopes that you have a lovely New Year's, no matter what you choose to do. Be safe, have fun, and see you next year!

Don't Forget Your Vitamins!

There is a heavy dose of irony going on in the 'chick's life at the moment. It comes from her heavy metal lifestyle.

The 'chick is off work this week. This is a standard happening because the agency she works for closes down for the week between Christmas and New Year's.

During a regular work week, the 'chick has to get up between 5 and 5:30 IN THE MORNING and get ready for work. Has to drop Rockboy and his carpool buddy off at school. Has to get herself across town to the interstate and then battle rush hour traffic. There are mornings when the 'chick feels like she has slain dragons by the time she makes it into her office in the morning. Most mornings, she would've given anything to be able to just sleep.

So, the 'chick is off this week.

(Wait for it - it's coming. . . )

Every morning that she has been off, she has woken up right around 7:00, just in time for the Early Show to start. She stayed in a bed a few of those mornings, trying desperately to go back to sleep but it wasn't happening. Granted, 7:00 is much better than 5:00, but still.

All this early rising has not been without benefit. Mornings when the 'chick wakes up and NEEDS to write are treasured. Although y'all are much too kind to say so, it's usually pretty evident when the 'chick is struggling for something, anything to say.

An idea for a book has presented itself. Unbidden. Unasked for. Lawd above, it might even be 'chick lit and who is better versed to write such a thing?

There is irony in the 'chick's life. She has an irony-rich diet.

No Parking on the Dance Floor

The 'chick has returned from the mall. Twice. In two days. Clearly, she is insane.

Yesterday, everybody in the world was at the mall but amazingly enough, the 'chick and Rockboy parked close to the doors thanks to good timing and the 'chick's Magic Parking Spell. Rockboy bought two pairs of jeans and it was over. Nearly painless.

This morning, the 'chick returned to the mall for her annual eye exam. Her eye doctor is next to the Lenscrafters so she had to go back. The appointment was at 10:30 so parking wasn't too bad, or shouldn't have been since the mall opened at 10:00. Except.

Except that as the 'chick was cruising the parking lot, looking for a space reasonably close to the doors, a large Suburban decided it would be a good idea to turn down the aisle that the 'chick was in. It was a one way aisle. With the monster truck going the wrong direction. Fully expecting the 'chick to give 'way and back up. Obviously, they didn't know the 'chick.

Roadchick sat there patiently, chatting on her cell phone to Rockboy, and waited for the Suburban to realize the error of its ways. The Suburban, evidently thinking that size makes up for what is lacking in intellect, inched closer to Roadchick, trying to make her move.

Roadchick, almost Zen-like in her calm, put Payback into Park, and waited. Smiling gently.

The driver of the Suburban gestured to Roadchick. Just a friendly "Merry Christmas" wave, she is sure. Roadchick smiled and sipped her tall latte, still chatting to Rockboy.

Eventually, after a few minutes, the Suburban conceded defeat and backed out of the aisle, a sadder but wiser SUV.

After the eye exam was over (Roadchick's eye doctor totally ROCKS, y'all. Did you know that they don't have to dilate your eyes anymore? Now they do a really bright flash Polaroid instead. The 'chick asked for a copy for her fridge, but the girl evidently didn't think the 'chick was serious.) the 'chick wandered the mall for a few minutes.

Now, the 'chick is proud to say that until yesterday, she made it through the entire holiday season without setting foot in the mall. When exactly did they start pumping Pimp Spray through the HVAC system? The entire mall was full of this . . . scent. Yuck. Whatever it was gave the 'chick a headache and caused her eyes to burn which led to her finishing up her business and getting out of there as fast as possible.

What business, you ask?

A visit to TicketMaster for monster truck tickets. Skaterboy's birthday is coming up and in honor of the big day, all the Roadies are going to see the monster trucks. Because the 'chick has a bit of the gambler in her, she bought General Admission tickets. That, and they were $10 cheaper than assigned seating. She's willing to risk it.

As the 'chick walked back to her car, she noticed a rather large tow truck pulled up behind the Payback. For a moment, a brief moment, the 'chick thought that maybe the Suburban she had schooled earlier was having a moment of revenge but that wasn't it. The tow truck moved out of the way so the 'chick could back out. As she headed down the row, a driver came screeching towards her on the one way aisle, wanting her parking space. Fortunately for him, he moved to the right and left enough room for the 'chick to proceed because otherwise, she would have absolutely backed up and pulled into her parking space again.

Just because.

It's Boxing Day - Wanna Fight?

It's the day after Christmas & the 'chick hopes that yours was lovely. No, the title of the post has nothing to do with anything in the post except possibly down at the end. Maybe. Sort of.

For after Christmas giggles, the 'chick has been checking out her stats. This is an activity that can quickly become obsessive in Roadchickland so other than checking the numbers quickly, she tries not to indulge.

But.

Since she's not working this week, she took the time to dig a little deeper. The keyword searches have been cracking her up this morning. (And, it's better than taking down the Christmas tree or cleaning up little bits of shredded paper.)

Evidently, a LOT of people were struck with the urge to make Banana Pudding this holiday season. Why they came to Roadchick is not clear. She thought she had made it evident that she CANNOT make Banana Pudding. She even renamed it Nemesis Pudding. It is her Cooking Shame.

A lot of other people (relatives, evidently! Hi y'all!) wound up at the 'chick's site while looking for lyrics to "Merry Christmas from the Family". Those cousins wandered in with search terms that included:

extension cord chain smoking feliz
the typical american family Christmas, egg nog, margaritas, lights, cigarettes
redneck christmas with the family

Others have dropped in looking for cleaning squalor, squirrel pee, and Martha Stewart gift wrapping techniques.

Bless their little hearts. Probably never knew what hit them.

So, Christmas.

Redneck was very pleased with his giftages. The 'chick done good. For those of you following along, his well-thought-out gift was a chrome fire extinguisher for his show car. It was something he saw & mentioned wanting and then promptly forgot about it but the 'chick did not. His other gift was a Dremel tool. For some reason, most men seem to want one of those. The 'chick thinks it's the male equivalent of a KitchenAid mixer for the girls. We all want one, even if we're not sure what we're going to do with it once we have it.

Redneck's gifts to the 'chick proves that he knows her pretty well. There were four - one thing she wanted, one thing she needed, one thing that was funny (at least to the 'chick), and a little something extra. The thing she wanted was a bottle of her favorite perfume that she has to con others into buying for her because she would never spend that amount of money on herself. The thing she needed was a universal remote for the TV/DVD/VCR in her bedroom. Now one handy remote replaces the other three that didn't work half the time. The funny thing was a penguin that you fill up with candy, wind up, and he poops it back out. It matches the pooping sheep that she got at the beginning of the Christmas season. And, she got a candle that smells delicious. So, she was happy.

Christmas was at her brother's house where she proved yet again that Auntie Roadchick buys the best presents. Her niece and nephew demanded that those gifts be unpackaged immediately, much to the chagrin of the other relatives who spent a lot more. Christmas is a competition, y'all. Didn't you know that?

Much to Speedbump's dismay, her Christmas tree jungle gym will be coming down today.

Christmas evidently doesn't agree with Speedbump - she spent much of the day yesterday wandering around and meowing her head off. When she wasn't doing that, she was nested on boxes under the tree. If someone so much as reached for them, they were swatted with her foot.

Well, the 'chick has procrastinated as much as she can so it's time to do some work around the house and then maybe even go shopping. Rockboy's Christmas cash is burning a hole in his pocket and he wants to go to the mall. That ought to be fun. Not. If y'all don't hear from the 'chick soon, send a search party.

Roadchick's House of Kwistmas Kwazy

At Chez Roadtrip, it is not an uncommon occurrence (Y'all, the 'chick does not know if that word is spelled correctly. It doesn't look right no matter how she types it. Anyway.) for things to be left to the last possible minute.

The Christmas holidays are upon us.

Now, the 'chick has done her shopping. Mostly. She thinks. She Made A List (sort of). She's still in the Checking It Twice mode.

Did she buy enough? Did she forget anyone? Oh yeah, there was that last minute invite to Redneck's mama's house on Christmas Eve. What do you give to a woman that is an unknown entity for the most part, but that you would still like to impress? The 'chick does not know what she likes. She does not know what she dislikes. What about all the kiddos - are there enough giftages to satisfy? Does the dollar amount count versus the quantity? Do toddlers understand THAT ratio???

Roadchick and her two brothers chipped in and bought a new TV for the parental units only to find out last Sunday - ONE WEEK FROM THE DAY OF PRESENTATION - that the parental units had been out television shopping. Not only had they been out television shopping, they had somehow managed to wander into CompUSA (a store they NEVER go to since they do not own a computer) to look at the exact TV that was purchased for them and then completely dissed the television by saying that they really felt, for them, the picture on the Sony was far superior.

What do you do in a situation like that?

After a brief phone conference, it was decided that they're getting the TV that they don't like and if they really don't like it, they can return it and buy something else on their own time.

The parental units, as you may have gathered, Patient Reader, are very difficult to shop for. What do you buy for people who have everything and have enough money to buy whatever they want? Apparently, you buy them a TV that they don't like.

The 'chick valiantly offered to accept the TV as her Christmas gift, just to be helpful. She is not proud. Not a bit. Her offer was refused.

So, back to list checking: Redneck.

The 'chick put a little bit of thought into his gift and bought him something that he mentioned wishing he had but now she is wondering if that is enough. One gift. Granted, a well-thought-out gift. Mediumly expensive but not over the top. How much does one spend on a boyfriend of 4 and 1/2 months? Without appearing to be a freaking stalker who bribes with expensive gifts?

The 'chick is thinking she will pick up a small something-or-other to go with the "big" present. Is that enough? What? She does not know.

The other thing that she does not know is what he got for her. She knows that there is a gift because he called her on Monday afternoon when she was on her way to his house. He called to let her know that he was stuck in Midtown traffic because he had had to go to work to pick up the tracking number for her stupid Christmas present that the FedEx guy had tried to re-deliver after being told to put it on hold at the depot and Redneck would pick it up. Redneck was afraid that it would be sent back, so he drove into the city on his day off. The 'chick asked him what was in her stupid Christmas present but he wouldn't say. And then today, he said that she could not go Christmas shopping with him on Saturday because, well, because. Now, y'all, that clearly indicates multiple giftages.

There is more shopping in her future. Sigh.

And then, there's the baking. The 'chick likes to bake so maybe it won't be such a chore. She was assigned dessert for the Christmas feasties at her brother's house. She knows that she won't be taking Nemesis Pudding. She just doesn't know what she will take. She's voting for something chocolate, but then some people want "something light" to which she was tempted to reply: then suck wind; but she didn't.

Admire Roadchick for her restraint at the holidays.

Christmas cards? They were a no-go this year. Some years she sends them, some years she doesn't. This was a doesn't year. It keeps the relatives on their toes.

Y'all will be proud to know that the Christmas tree is up. It was doubtful but apparently a Holiday Bug bit her butt on the way home Tuesday so she came home, hauled out the tree, and up it went.

On Wednesday, Roadchick and Rockboy came home to find that Speedbump had climbed up INSIDE the tree (as usual) and had dismantled the entire front half of the tree. It took 15 minutes to put it all back to rights.

On Thursday, Roadchick and Rockboy came home to find that Speedbump had climbed up INSIDE the tree (as usual) and had dismantled the entire right side of the tree. It took 10 minutes to put it all back to rights.

On Friday, Roadchick and Rockboy fully expect to come home to find that Speedbump has dismantled some other side of the tree and fully expect to spend a minimum of 10 minutes putting it back to rights.

The good news is that Roadchick wisely used the glass ball ornaments this year and Speedbump hasn't really messed with them. Apparently they are too hard to carry to her water dish.

It's gonna be busy around Chez Roadtrip over the next few days, so here's hoping that y'all enjoy the holidays with the ones you love best.

Merry Christmas! And God bless us, every one.

From
Roadchick, Redneck, Rockboy & Speedbump

Two Rights, Make A Left

HEY!

What are y'all doing here?

The 'chick is at Cardiac Fantasies today.

C'mon over & see what the 'chick found hidden under the mattress . . .

House-Sitting

Michael, at Cardiac Fantasies, has invited the 'chick to be a guest blogger.

He's got an entire week of housesitters over there, so be sure to check it out!

Mist1, Fringes, the 'chick, KB (Strange Occurances), and Briliant Donkey will all be at the house party, so stop by & we'll raid Michael's liquor cabinet when he's not looking.

The 'chick is in charge on December 21st, so be sure to mark your calendars.

You Want Hot Wax With That?

The 'chick came in from work this evening and was thinking of YOU, Patient Reader. Thinking that she really needed to post something new to move that rambling mess from a couple of days ago on down the list. Something funny, something interesting, hell, just SOMETHING!

So, she was thinking about her day today - did anything interesting happen? Well, no, not really. Did a few visits, nothing out of the ordinary. So, what to say?

Then, the 'chick started thinking about what she did this morning, to kill some time between visits. The 'chick's car was a dirty, dirty girl and desperately needeed a bath. The nastiness level exceeded what a drive-through car wash would handle so it was going to mean the 'chick doing the job herself, to make sure that the car was actually clean.

To the car wash!

The 'chick pulled into one of the bays and headed to the change machine for a handful of quarters. So far, so good.

It's been awhile since the 'chick has used one of these car washes, so she studied up on the directions. There are about 4000 choices of settings but the 'chick made a selection and plugged in the quarters. The tire soak thing didn't seem to be working, but whatever - she'd just get it with the brush. So, she followed the brush directions and sprayed the soapy stuff (on the "Spray nozzle soapy stuff" setting) over the car - she thought. It was kind of soapy, but not what she expected. There was, however, a large pile of soapy foam on the floor under the brush. When she changed the dial to the "Foamy brush" setting, it sort-of worked, but not really. Precious time was ticking away, so the 'chick went for it anyway and washed the car off, saving the tires for last. Washing complete, and after plugging in MORE quarters, the chick switched it to "High Powered Rinse" and promptly blew MORE soap onto the car. Grrr. Ok, switch to "Spot Free Rinse" and this only produced a slightly less foamy spray. Rinsing, rinsing, rinsing, determined to not use more quarters.

At THIS point, Patient Reader, the 'chick came to the conclusion that a jokester - a funny, funny person, had most likely yanked the knob off and put it back in an alternate position so that no matter what you thought you were going to do, it wasn't going to work out for you. The 'chick was out of patience and nearly out of quarters so she gave it up and figured that since she had gottem most of the yuck off, she would just run it through the automatic car wash next door and finish it up, making sure that whatever she had sprayed on the car last was all washed away.

So, car dripping and slightly soapy still, she pulled up to the automatic wash and put in some money. It ATE the money and still wanted more. No way, uh uh. The 'chick went to the cashier and demanded he either give back her money or make the car wash turn on. He handed her the money. Grrr. So, the 'chick just drove really, really fast to blow off the remaining bubbles and called it good. (There really wasn't much soap on the car but it seemed like it at the time.)

This got the 'chick to thinking about her car. Well, more specifically, her car's name. For, yes, the 'chick's car has a name. And her name is Payback.

Why Payback, you ask?

There are two reasons, well, actually three. The first reason is because Payback is a bitch. The second reason is because this car (a 2003 Monte Carlo) is the 'chick's first "Big Girl" car. She picked it out, test drove it, and bought it on her own. No men involved. No husband, no dad, no brothers. No extra input. No one telling her, "Roadchick, you don't want that car." All hers. Her choice. What she wanted. Hers. And the third reason is because in several Kid Rock songs, he talks about "Payback" as in: Looking for the Payback. The 'chick loves Kid Rock and it's a little secret just between The Kid and the 'chick. And now, you, Patient Reader, but don't tell anyone, ok?

It's funny because the 'chick has not named anything else - not her washer or dryer, not her fridge, not anything else inanimate. People ask about the name - because it's on the rear side windows - and some understand and some don't, but that's ok because the 'chick and Payback DO understand.

What about you, Patient Reader? Have you named anything inanimate? (The 'chick does NOT want to know that you've named your boobs Skip and Flippy or anything else....on your body. That falls under TMI and violators will be mocked, publically.)

A Tuesday In The Life . . .

Today was the Christmas party at work. It's held during work hours so no alcohol or Xeroxing of the butt going on. What does that have to do with this post? Who knows? It was just something to tell y'all.

Rockboy has a wicked cold and the 'chick, while a loving and concerned mama, is not nearly so loving and concerned that she wants him to pass it on to her. Especially not with the holidays coming up.

Especially since the agency she works for is CLOSED for the week between Christmas and New Year's. This does not come out of vacation time - it's just a lovely gift from the directors. Roadchick LOVES her job. She loves her directors.

Today, life is good in Roadchickland.

She's been surfing around the 'net, checking out what other bloggers have had to say about the Six Weird Things meme that was making the rounds. Michael & the 'chick share the "Don't disrupt the routine" weirdness. Autrice & the 'chick both agree that they HATE the little cardboard subscription cards that come stuffed in magazines. The 'chick did not list that out as one of her weirdnesses but it's definitely one of them. She will absolutely shake the hell out of her magazines to dislodge the loose ones and then go through them and yank out any that are attached. Why? No idea. It is what it is. The 'chick does not really have many food phobia-weirdnesses other than the liver thing & the no crumbs/sticky hands thing. She does not mind if her food touches on the plate, she does not eat all of one thing before starting on another & she's pretty willing to try new foods with one exception - never, ever, unless it is disguised as something else (and she does not see how that is possible) will she ever eat chittlins. Never. Ever.

The day before Thanksgiving break (and the 'chick's Thanksgiving breakdown), her boss took a group from the office to lunch as a little pre-celebration. They went to Sitar in Nashville for Indian food. The 'chick has eaten Indian food before and liked it but was somewhat put off of it by the fact that she smelled of curry for a day or two afterward. Nevertheless, she went. And y'all - it was delicious. And apparently that curry smell that she could smell was only in her head because no one else was giving her looks and wondering why she left her sari at home. Yum. Yum. It's been drifting through the 'chick's thoughts since then and another visit is not too far in her future. Because - yum.

Why all this about food? No idea - the 'chick ate enough to where she really should not have to eat until sometime next week.

Redneck update: He is feeling much better and is back at work. The 'chick has to say - he was a good patient for the most part so she cannot complain.

You know how there are some people that you just don't want to deal with when they are sick or recovering from surgery because they whine or require a lot of attention? Redneck is not one of those. This is a good thing because the 'chick loses patience very quickly with people that require that level of dancing attention.

Roadchick's mother is a dancing-attention type patient. There is moaning and groaning and praying out loud to the Virgin Mary to help her. There are moans and prayers in Lithuanian, which Roadchick's mother speaks fluently. When the Lithuanian starts, it means that she is Very Ill Indeed. There is hand-fluttering and martyred looks. Hushed whispers. Misery. Misery to all. There is no one in all the world that can pay enough attention to her when she is sick. She must be coaxed to eat and take her pills. She must be coaxed to make an effort to remain in the world of the living.

Now, y'all are thinking one of two things or possibly both: 1) Roadchick, you're a mean bitch of a daughter ~OR~ 2) Your mother cannot possibly be that bad and we all know how you exaggerate.

Trust the 'chick on this one - it's no exaggeration and while the 'chick is a mean bitch, she does manage to keep her claws sheathed most of the time.

When the 'chick comes down with something or requires recovery time, she usually prefers to be left alone for the most part. She does not want dancing attention. She likes it when, at decent intervals, if someone is home, they offer her a drink or something to eat. Or possibly volunteer to make a trip to the video rental place. Other than that - she'd rather be left alone. This may be in direct relation to the 'chick NOT wanting to be a bother to anyone under any circumstances.

In completely unrelated news, and amazing to the 'chick, it's coming up on SIX years since she got divorced from the Now-Former-Mr.-Roadchick. Wow. When she looks back on the person that she was when she was married compared to the person that she is now - it blows her mind. There could not be two more different people inhabiting the same body unless one is named Sybil. Night and day. People that know the 'chick would probably agree.

Lawd, this post has been all over the place and will probably earn a spot in Wikipedia under "stream of consciousness". Whatever popped into her mind came out on the page.

Do y'all ever try to backtrack through your thoughts or conversations? For example, at some point in a conversation, you think to yourself, "How on earth did we get to talking about XYZ?" and then backtrack to figure out how you went from talking about the best place to get a BBQ sandwich to which suburb has the best schools. This is not something that is a regular occurance in the 'chick's thought process but it does happen sometimes. Maybe that should've been on her weird list.

Thank you for being so patient and making it to the end of this incredibly rambling post through the dusty corners of the 'chick's mind. Scary in there, isn't it?

Because It's All About Meme

Lawd.

Briliant Donkey evidently tagged the 'chick for this meme - and FORGOT to tell her - and left her to discover it on her own.

Here are the rules: Each player of this game starts with the "6 Weird Things about You." People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says 'you are tagged' in their comments and tell them to read your blog!"

Six Weird Things About The 'Chick:

1. Roadchick absolutely CANNOT stand to have crumbs on her hands. Ditto anything sticky. It gives her the shrieking creeps and she will remove the offending substance with whatever is closest whether that be a dishcloth, papertowel, or even her jeans. Or yours. It does not matter.

2. Roadchick is a creature of habit. Disrupt the habit without her permission and she will freak out. The severity of the freakout is directly correlated with how much you've messed with her routine.

3. Roadchick cannot say "flat panel" as in flat panel TV. It always, every time, comes out as "flat planel". Without fail.

4. Roadchick is ambidextrous. She writes with her left hand but uses scissors with her right. There are a variety of activities that she can do with either hand like bowling, throwing a ball, using a knife (for cooking, of course). She mouses very well with her right hand.

5. Roadchick does not like it if she buys a magazine or newspaper and someone attempts to read it before she gets to it. It makes her crazy.

6. Roadchick cannot eat liverwurst or any form of a liver product. When she was a wee chick, she loved it on white bread with Miracle Whip. Her mother fed it to her too soon after a bout of stomach 'flu and she has never touched it again. She cannot even look at it. Writing about it makes her slightly queasy.

There are probably a great many other weird things about the 'chick but it's funny, y'all - what is weird to one seems perfectly normal to another.

Now for the tagging - Tinker, Pacian, Kim G., Autrice - consider yourselves tagged. No, it's not six others, but hey, there you go.

Nemesis Pudding - The Recipe

Leonie put in a request for the recipe for all the non-American readers out there. So, Leonie, here you go. The 'chick wishes you much luck with your pudding and more success with your custard than she has been able to manage.

Note to non-American Readers: Nilla Wafers (in case they don't have 'em where you are) are a plain, vanilla flavored cookie/biscuit. No chips, nuts, cream filling. Nothing extra. Feel free to substitute. The 'chick is thinking that little shortbreads would be DELICIOUS. Yum.

Enjoy!

Original Nilla Banana Pudding

Ready in: 60 mins.

Layers of Nilla wafers, creamy pudding and fresh banana slices
are the stars of this American classic.

3/4 cup sugar, divided
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
Dash salt
3 eggs, separated
2 cups milk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
45 NILLA Wafers, divided
5 ripe bananas, sliced (about 3 1/2 cups), divided
Additional NILLA Wafers and banana slices, for garnish


1. Mix 1/2 cup sugar, flour and salt in top of double boiler.
Blend in 3 egg yolks and milk. Cook, uncovered, over boiling water,
stirring constantly for 10 to 12 minutes or until thickened. Remove
from heat; stir in vanilla.

2. Reserve 10 wafers for garnish. Spread small amount of custard
on bottom of 1 1/2-quart casserole; cover with a layer of wafers
and a layer of sliced bananas. Pour about 1/3 of custard over
bananas. Continue to layer wafers, bananas and custard to make
a total of 3 layers of each, ending with custard.

3. Beat egg whites until soft peaks form; gradually add remaining
1/4 cup sugar and beat until stiff but not dry. Spoon on top of
pudding, spreading evenly to cover entire surface and sealing well
to edges.

4. Bake at 350°F in top half of oven for 15 to 20 minutes or
until browned. Cool slightly or refrigerate. Garnish with
additional wafers and banana slices just before serving.

Makes 8 servings

NUTRITIONAL INFORMATION per serving
287 calories, 6 g protein, 50 g carbohydrate, 7 g total fat,
2 g saturated fat, 117 mg cholesterol, 134 mg sodium,
1 g dietary fiber.

Preparation Time: 30 mins.
Cook Time: 15 mins.
Cooling Time: 15 mins.
Total Time: 60 mins.

_________________________________________________________

This recipe courtesy of Back of the Box Recipes.
www.backofthebox.com Home Page

This recipe created by Nabisco.

The Winner and Still Champeen - Banana Pudding

Well, y'all, it's been a busy week in Roadchick's world. Isn't it always though?

Work has been busy, the holidays are upon us, and Redneck had a fun-filled trip to the oral surgeon on Friday afternoon. The 'chick went along as the designated driver and post-surgical babysitter. Fun, y'all. Loads of it.

The spirit of grinchiness has lifted slightly at Chez Roadtrip - some holiday shopping has been done. There has been no decorating though.

There were years in Roadchick's past when Christmas meant weeks of preparation and baking and shopping and decorating. It looked like the North Pole vomited on the 'chick's house. There was one year that there were THREE Christmas trees. One upstairs, in the den, one downstairs in the "good" living room, and a small, tinselly tree in the dining room that held the 'chick's much-loved collection of vintage ornaments.

Cookies were baked almost daily. Why, she does not know since everyone was sick to death of them long before the Day ever arrived. Too much of a good thing, evidently.

Much time was taken selecting just the "right" card. The "right" wrapping paper. On and on, ad nauseum.

Now, it's simpler. Gifts are still purchased and a tree might actually make an appearance although right now it's doubtful. Speedbump-The-Cat absolutely loves the Christmas trees and takes every opportunity to climb up inside them. It's a little startling when the tree starts moving on its own and then suddenly! a kitty head pops out somewhere around where the angel should be. The angel is no longer there because for some unknown reason, Speedbump routinely takes anything she can carry in her mouth to her water bowl and dumps it in. Whether she thinks she is giving the object a drink or killing it is not clear. What is clear is that decades of handmade & gifted ornaments all wound up getting a bath and that vexed the 'chick to no end.

This weekend, the 'chick is still on babysitter duty. She's not working the night shift though. Redneck is safely tucked into his beddy-byes, dosed up with narcotics, and sleeping peacefully. The 'chick will return in the morning and see how he's doing.

You wouldn't think a day of sitting on the couch, watching satellite TV would wear one out, but it does! There was some cooking involved too but not enough to keep the 'chick energized at all.

Time for a confession, y'all. This afternoon, the 'chick made a banana pudding for Redneck. Banana pudding, for those unfamiliar with it, is a Southern staple of life. It is NOT banana-flavored pudding from a box. It is vanilla wafers and homemade custard and sliced bananas and meringue. It is heaven in a Corningware bake dish.

It is the 'chick's nemesis.

The 'chick can cook. She can amaze her family and friends. She gets asked for recipes where none exists. She can bake a cake from scratch, not a mix.

She cannot, for the life of her, get the damned pudding to THICKEN as she stirs it in the double-boiler. She gets lovely custard of a liquid consistency that is suitable for eggnog or boiled custard. She does not get custard that thickens nicely to hold together the bananas and Nilla wafers.

The first time or two that it happened, she figured it was a quirk. An oddity.

She has conceded defeat.

She made a banana pudding today. It tastes good but looks like ass. The custard, as usual, did not thicken. It floated around the sliced banana and Nilla wafers like lovely vanilla soup. It continues to float around the banana and Nilla wafers like lovely vanilla soup. Except the bananas? Well, y'all know how bananas are, right? Like avocados, when they are exposed to the air, they blacken? Yeah. Without that protective layer of THICKENED custard, the bananas look like a science experiment gone wrong. A biological project in the fridge. A pastry petri dish.

It may have put Redneck off banana pudding for life. Or it will, when he opens the fridge and sees that mess in there. She admitted to him that evidently, she cannot make a banana pudding. He was stunned by this admission. He has seen the 'chick cook. He has been impressed by her mad skillz in the kitchen. He nearly wept with joy at her potato soup and slow-cooked Chinese pork.

It's shameful, y'all, and the 'chick does not know how to fix it. Little granny women with wood-burning stoves can make banana pudding, for pete's sake!

Anyway, that is what the 'chick did today. Hopefully YOUR day was more entertaining.

Empress, for a Day

Yeah, it's lazy & it's cheating, but haven't YOU always wanted to know which Tarot card you are? (Thanks to Michael at Cardiac Fantasies for the link.)

The 'chick will return with a real entry soon, pinky swear!

You are The Empress

Beauty, happiness, pleasure, success, luxury, dissipation.

The Empress is associated with Venus, the feminine planet, so it represents,
beauty, charm, pleasure, luxury, and delight. You may be good at home
decorating, art or anything to do with making things beautiful.

The Empress is a creator, be it creation of life, of romance, of art or business. While the Magician is the primal spark, the idea made real, and the High Priestess is the one who gives the idea a form, the Empress is the womb where it gestates and grows till it is ready to be born. This is why her symbol is Venus, goddess of beautiful things as well as love. Even so, the Empress is more Demeter, goddess of abundance, then sensual Venus. She is the giver of Earthly gifts, yet at the same time, she can, in anger withhold, as Demeter did when her daughter, Persephone, was kidnapped. In fury and grief, she kept the Earth barren till her child was returned to her.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Thank You

To everyone that sent good thoughts - thank you so much. It means a lot to know that people have got your back.

Please allow the 'chick to apologize for the week of grim posts and dreary news. Overall, life is good. She has no idea where these panic attacks come from or why they come. Usually.

This time, the culprit is the holidays.

There was a time that the holidays were magic and sparkly snowflakes and prancing reindeer. The 'chick is not sure when those disappeared. Well, not completely. But telling that tale would be depressing and ENOUGH of that.

Today, Redneck and Roadchick went to a Christmas parade in a small town not too far from Nashville. Ya gotta love a parade where the 4H kids are on a float, the local high school marching band comes out to perform, there are horses and fire trucks and customized cars and kids in go-karts. There are church groups and politicians. And of course, there is Santa Claus.

Most of the participants threw candy to the kids lining the street and everyone was waving and yelling "Merry Christmas". And you know, they actually meant it.

Redneck and Roadchick stood by the side of the road, sipping hot chocolate and waving to the kids in the parade. They helped Roadchick's niece and nephew pick up candy from the street.

And it was a good day, y'all. No panic in sight.

So thanks again for the good thoughts. They must have helped.

Sunday Scribblings: In The Last Hour

In the last hour, the 'chick has been fighting off a panic attack like you would not believe.

For a Friday, it's been a horrible, god-awful day.

If the moon wasn't visible, you'd swear it was full.

One of the 'chick's co-workers lost her mind, went off on another co-worker and quit. Then changed her mind and still resigned but decided to stay until either the end of December or the end of January - the 'chick is unsure of the details.

Another co-worker had a run-in with the director of a day program. Insanity.

The holidays are looming.

Traffic was hideous.

Rockboy's band is playing at some party and no one seems to have the address where they are to play. He's promised to call back soon with the address but that is not nearly cut and dried enough to comfort a mama's panicking mind.

Redneck is still struggling with dental problems and doesn't feel good. He's not answering his phone. The 'chick is not sure if he's going to appear tonight or not.

She really, really hopes so because tonight is one of those nights when she desperately needs to just curl up and be held. Hopefully it'll work out. She doesn't need anyone to solve her problems - she just wants to close her eyes for a little while and know it's ok.

Because, y'all, it sure doesn't feel like it right now.