NOT a tale of animal cruelty.

Helpful Friend - "I'm thirsty."

Miss Kendra - "There's diet Coke in the fridge."

Sarah Smile - "And champagne in the poodle."

Helpful Friend - *confused look*



- one hour later -



Helpful Friend - *pulls head off poodle* "Ooooooooooooooo. There really IS champagne in the poodle."

Ok. I MIGHT have lied.

That might not be our yard, per se.
It might be the San Diego Wild Animal Park, if you wanna get all technical about it.

If there was any justice in this world, what I wrote wouldn't be a lie, and my yard would look like that. Except that I would be riding the rhinos. And also, except that I would never own that many souvenir shot glasses. They would be a bitch to dust.

PumperNickel and I had a GREAT day yesterday. After a leisurely breakfast of coffee and breakfast burritos (Luca and I shared an egg and potato, Knickerbockers had egg and ham), Nick and I headed up the back country way to the SDWAP.

I would have a lot more pictures of the WAP, but my camera has developed a most disagreeable habit of only saving the pictures it feels like saving. Usually the ones I'm not as anxious to have. But it might be just as well. The picture recreated below might have used as evidence to ban me from the park.




Nick and I devised a game while we were there. 5 points for touching an animal, 20 for getting it out of the park and back to the car. Percentages of these point amounts were awarded for good efforts. Nick won, 8 to 5.

Another set of pictures my camera decided to send to a gaping black hole were all the pictures taken at the tiger pen. I shall attempt to recreate the scene, but from a better angle than my pictures would have.. I'm leaning over the railing toward the tiger, who is stalking something. My Nick is paying 25 cents a minute into a telescope to stare at a very fat man on another observation deck. I think we lost these pictures because I had to turn my camera off in a hurry, after Nick poked me and said, "Aaaa, he saw me and he's headed this way! We'd better go, quick!"



My favorite part, hands down, was the catfish. I was throwing bits of my $8.00 pretzel to the ducks, and suddenly it looked as though the water was boiling, as the catfish surfaced for their share.



Add to the file of reasons we probably SHOULD have been thrown out, I told kids that if they could touch an animal, they could keep it, and Mommy and Daddy wouldn't be able to say no. Actually, add that to the file on why I probably SHOULD have been bludgeoned with a stroller.

Gawd, I love chaos.

I can't decide which is more amazing. That they didn't make us leave, or that they didn't keep us there as an exhibit.



After we left the WAP, slightly sun-crisped, we stopped at a small museum, the San Pasqual Battlefield State Historic Park. A long name for a small place. It's pretty much just a museum because it's our only battlefield. We were the only car in the parking lot. Inside was a very bored looking policewoman.

"I have a video, if you guys wanna watch it. Just lemme know, ok?"

"Uh, sure. We'd like to watch it."

We sat down in the little theater as she started the film, which was basically the long version of this postcard.



"Psst. Nick. Wanna make out?"

"Dude. She has a GUN."

"Good point. So, no then?"

We stayed as long as we could find ways to look interested. The policewoman looked so starved for company, I keep expecting her to stroke my hair like a doll and ask us to stay. I stalled over the guestbook awhile, making note that the last guest had been a week ago.


We wandered up the trail a ways, and spend a lovely half hour trying to catch lizards on an old red wooden bridge over a dry creek bed. Because that's what warm Sunday afternoons are for and where else would we want to be, anyway? We didn't catch one, but *shrug* we laughed a lot.

After awhile we headed back through the mountains, and while passing through Ramona we decided to stop at a winery. After accidentally crashing a private party at one winery, we ended up at Schwaesdall Winery. There were three other people there, and the owner holding court, so to speak. The cat shown on the homepage there also came around to be sociable. After a sip of so many good wines that it was hard to choose, we did manage to choose two to buy. I was a total girl and went for the white zinfandel. Nick picked a great Cab.

When we got home, I picked the last of the cheesybites off of Sat. night's pizza, and we snuggled in to watch some very stupid tv.
It was a perfect day.

Flamingos are easy to dye, right?

Because PumperNickel and I are getting crotchety and intolerant in our old age, we've decided not to go out to a bar and brave the perfect storm of St. Patrick's Day/drunk 19 year old coeds here from Phoenix on Spring Break, and instead do something different. No, not sit at home and throw beer cans at neighborhood dogs. We're not THAT old and crotchety.

I'm trying to decide between SeaWorld and the San Diego Zoo.

The zoo is actually cheaper, and has more exhibits by far.



SeaWorld has beer. And a seafood restaurant, which cracks me up. "Can I have this one, sauteed in wine, or is it endangered?"



Online research doesn't reveal any plans on either of their parts to dye their animals green.

Choices, choices.

A forewarded email.

By following the simple advice heard on a Dr. Phil Show, I have finally found inner peace. Dr. Phil proclaimed the way to achieve inner peace is to finish all the things you have started.
So I looked around my house to see things I started and hadn't finished; and, before leaving the house this morning I finished off a bottle of Merlot, a bottle of Chardonnay, a bottle of Baileys, a bottle of Kahlua, a package of Oreo's, a pot of coffee, the rest of the Cheesecake, some Saltines and a box of Godiva Chocolates.

You have no idea how good I feel.

The Internet isn't my ONLY friend.

And to prove it, I have pictures. And to prove that they were in fact taken in my living room, Sancho joins the picture.

Behold!

Dillon!


He joined Nick and I last night for SSS Sundays. Sushi and South Park (and sometimes Scotch) Sundays, that is.
Although it became Indian food and South Park and Wine Sunday this time, because he brought wine and doesn't eat seafood. Less alliterative, but oodles of fun!

Who's coming next week?

All I can say is that it was my own fault.

I have a bruise on the very top of my head. From a wine bottle cork.

I don't want to talk about it.

Hee.

How to Choose a Wine, Sarah Smile Style.

First off, a disclaimer.
While this system IS based on my own experience, I won't pretend to know what I'm talking about. I don't know much about wine, and I have no great sense of taste when it comes to a good wine versus a bad wine. (This makes me a cheap date, so yay!) I fully admit that I might enjoy the wines I pick, because the system of picking them was so much fun. But why does it matter why you enjoy a wine, as long as you do?

So what will this system do for you?

It's very easy to remember, it will make you look like you know what you're doing in the wine aisle, and it will get you out of the aisle quicker. (So more time for drinking, yay!)
No more wandering, glazed eyes, up and down the aisle, using price as your only indicator of quality, not knowing what to look for on the label, and generally looking ignorant as chic people brush past you and pick confidently.
And you end up either spending a fortune because you don't want to gamble on a mid-priced wine, or you end up sticking with one kind and never trying something new, which is probably the best way of actually developing taste and confidence in your wine choices.

So, good system or bad system, having one helps.
And here's mine.
Three steps.

One, look for an animal on the label.

Two, the less appetizing the animal on the label, the better the wine will be. For example, a wine with a crow or kangaroo on it will be better than a wine with a cow on it.

Three, if you still need to narrow it down, pick the wine that matches the decor of your house the best. This is perfectly acceptable because wine is a multi-sensory experience. Have you ever had a glass of wine that you didn't feel the urge to take a picture of? I haven't. And can you really TRULY enjoy a glass of wine if you're looking at something that offends your artistic sensibilities?
It's not a person, so it's perfectly acceptable to judge it by it's label.



And always remember, life is too short to worry if it's ok to like something.

Let's party, Martha Stewart - style!

Text from My Nick* - Martha Stewart just said that she would be celebrating Sat. night because her probation will be over.

Text from Sarah Smile - Let's get smashed on mint julep martinis and tole paint the dog with silver polish.



*He's at home today, recovering from his long work trip, which basically had him working for a month straight.

Happy Valentines Day to my True Love, The Internet.

Tonight, I will go home, pour myself a glass of wine, kiss the most wonderful man in the world, have a candlelit carpet picnic, watch the season finale of Beauty and the Geek and reflect on my unbelievable good luck.

May you all feel so lucky in your life as I do in mine.

And My Nick to standby and smile at my concentration face.

Happiness is a glass of red wine and a really challenging puzzle.

Not just white. Jewish.

My Nick - "Bloody Mary's rock the ...."

Sarah Smile - "'House?' You can say it."

My Nick - "No, I can't."

Sarah Smile - "Well, you might be too white to say it, but there is no one here ethnic enough to judge you."

Another Actual Conversation

Coworker J - "Ok, girls, lets get a picture!"

Coworker T's Friend - "Here girls, look at me." *straightens Coworker T's hat and take the beer out of Sarah Smile's hand*

Sarah Smile - "Aw, that's sweet, to have someone to check to make sure we look put together and classy in pictures."

Coworker T - "Uh, she just stole your beer."

Sarah Smile - "Oh."

Coworker T - "You'll learn."