Poor Little Sad Blog

Sorry I have neglected you. I have a valid reason. It’s not a good excuse, but it is true.

See, this spring I got a hair brained idea to purchase a business. A flower shop to be exact.

Why? Well many reasons.

To name a few: I was getting way too much free time, I was enjoying sleeping in, or only setting my alarm to go on 5 am swims, or for fun events. My friends were tired of reading my facebook status updates of my travels to Puerto Rico, volunteer work at various beer, music and film festivals. It was kind of freaking me out how many ‘famous’ people I was meeting this year. It was getting a little frightening. My dog and cat were getting sick of me being around the house so much. Ski season was over. Oh yeah, and I can’t forget, I needed one of those job things, since I was less than enthusiastic about going back into IT I figured I would create my dream job.

So what better way to solve these issues? Buy a business! It will take up all your free time and teach you many lessons in the process. Since I love learning lessons hands on. I had my work cut out for me.

The process of purchasing a business I think is the closest I will ever come to having a baby. Not that I have had a baby to compare this too, but after seeing what many of my friends went through with childbirth, I feel like I can relate.

In the beginning of the process, random people would immediately ask you if you are married and if this was planned (I am NOT kidding). The first to ask me this question was my first bank I went to in order discuss financing, yes, even though this is highly illegal, I was asked “How do you expect to do this without a husband?” Hello 1954, please go away and come back to 2010. Needless to say I did not get my loan from that bank and I am in process of closing my accounts there.

Everywhere I turned it seemed like everyone had unsolicited advice to give. Some good, some not so good, and much from people with no credibility to give advice.

My workout regime along with my diet pretty much went to hell.

I would wake up in the middle of the night with nightmares of “what if I screw this up?”

I dreaded and anticipated the delivery date.

Since the delivery date(June 1) I have not slept or ate much. Again grabbing food and short naps when I can. Not even going to talk about my workout schedule. Or I should say, what workouts? I have participated in one triathlon and the MS150 bike ride this summer, but both of those performances showed my lack of commitment to ‘training’. I do however still plan to go to SF for the Nike half marathon in October. Note the ‘half’. I will not be training for the full marathon.

My social life has suffered horribly. If you want to find me, I’ll be at the shop.

In the end, I will drive a mini-van. Heck, even my ‘mom’ friends, I can only think
of a couple that have mini-van’s. I am not afraid, It will have a lot of flowers on it. It’ll be cool!

Even though this list looks like a whining list. Believe me it is not.

I could not be happier! I am working ridiculous hours, but I am for the first time in my professional career, feel like I have found my ‘fit’. Playing with flowers and making people happy every day. Who wouldn’t love that? Oh yeah, plus I get the bonus of reading all those cards people send with flowers. That alone is a whole other blog.

More to come, I promise.

RUM PUNCH! *POW!*

This past week I returned to Puerto Rico. This trip was the original one planned days before my aunt passed away in March.

Once again I return with a recipe that I am being prodded to share.

RUM PUNCH!

In a pitcher, Mix:
1 Cup Coconut Rum
½ Cup Limon (Lemon flavored rum)
1 Cup Pineapple Juice
½ Cup Orange Juice
Splash of grenadine.

Top the pitcher with ice, mix well, top each drink with FRESHLY grated nutmeg. (don’t use any of the stale powered, pre-grated shit!—YUCK!)

Serve to your friends, smile, and enjoy!!!

*Warning: you may make multiple pitchers of this.

By Popular Demand: RUMCAKE!

(Editor note: I wrote ths blog a couple of months ago after returning from my trip to Culebra. I have withheld posting it until I had photos to match. By a little proding from an old friend across the pond, I am posting this without photos so Val can make some rumcake)

A few years ago, I found a rumcake recipe online that I tried, loved, shared and accepted all rave of all my friends saying it was the best Rumcake they EVER had. This includes my ex semi-expat parents that spend a better part of a decade as Antiguan residents. Let’s just say, my family knows good Rumcake when they have it. And I make a MEAN Rumcake.

The recipe I used and pretty much still follow came from Pioneer Woman. I change some of the technique’s some. But I don’t want to completely plagiarize her recipe.

Recently I traveled to a small island off the coast of Puerto Rico to lay to rest my dear Aunt Judy that passed away rather un-expectantly. Aunt Judy was known for a lot of things, speaking her mind, causing a social ruckus and baking a mean Rumcake. In fact her cakes were famous, if you ate a Rumcake on Culebra, more than likely you were eating my Aunt Judy’s Rumcake. She supplied them to all the restaurants on the island. Her Rumcakes had been written up multiple times in travel magazines.

I regret I never got down to Culebra to visit my Aunt and have her Rumcake. In fact I was supposed to go for my first visit this month. That’s Aunt Judy for you, Leave the party early and forget to say good-bye.

When I arrived in Culbra, after settling down for the evening, my cousin Tracy (who I secretly think is really an older sister since we are so similar in soo many ways) asked me “Want to make one of Mom’s Rumcakes?”

Oh hell yes!!! (I really wanted to spy the recipe)

Imagine my shock when I saw the recipe and discovered it is the same as mine?

I could be selfish and keep it as my own, but that is not my family’s way. I will continue the family tradition and sell the Rumcakes whenever I can, but I won’t hesitate to share the recipe either.

By the way if you’re too lazy to bake this yourself, I will do it for you and sell it for $25. I am still trying to figure out shipping so unfortunately you need to be local at this time for me to deliver it.

Okay, so enough of the bibble babble, let’s get to the RUMCAKE!

First you will need GOOD rum, I personally like Cruzan Coconut Rum. Aunt Judy Swears you need Bacardi Dark Rum. Who am I to argue with Aunt Judy? Use the Bacardi for this recipe, okay?

As for the cake mix, but a yellow cake mix with pudding in the mix. This saves you from having to add a box of pudding, plus again it is one of the few discrepancies between AJ and I. I am going for her rules, so do it!

RumCake:
1 Box Yellow cake Mix (pudding in the mix)—If you can’t find this kind, buy a box of instant vanilla pudding to add.
4 eggs
½ cup cold water
½ cup canola oil
½ cup rum
1 cup chopped pecans

Glaze:
1 ½ cups REAL butter
¼ cup water
1 ½ cups sugar
¾ cups Rum

Preheat Oven to 325 degrees

Grease a Bundt pan with either flour and butter (if you still do that)—or cheat with cooking spray. I use the non-stick cooking spray.

Place the chopped pecans around the bottom of the greased pan and set aside

In a big mixing bowl (I use my Kitchenaid, AJ used a bowl and a hand mixer—either is fine. Mix all the cake ingredients and mix on low speed until blended, then turn up the speed to medium and mix it all up for 2 minutes.

Pour the batter in the Bundt pan, pop in preheated oven, and cook for 1 hour. Until cake is done.

You all know how to test when a cake is done, right? (Stick a toothpick in it and see if it comes out clean. In this case, use a bamboo skewer. You’ll use that skewer later so don’t trash it.

Are you sipping rum right now? You should be, but slow it down partner, we have some serious cooking yet to do!

After you remove the cake from the oven. Set it on a cooling rack to cook, come back and using a rubber spatula gently release it from the edges of the pan as it cools. When you feel daring, put a plate on top of cake and flip upside down to take it out of the pan and let cool on a plate. Don’t be afraid, but don’t be too daring either.

Now we stab the cake, take that skewer and poke, poke poke the cake all over. This will allow the delicious glaze we are about to make places to go in the cake. Go ahead…keep skewering the cake…

Okay once the cake has been perfectly perforated, place the pan back over the cake and reverse the flip method so it is back in its pan. Skewer the ‘top’ of the cake some more. Set aside.

Now for the fun part…THE GLAZE!

Measure out Rum, place to the side.

In a medium saucepan melt the butter, sugar and water.

Heat over medium heat, constantly stirring. Bring it to a boil. Still stirring constantly, boil for 5 minutes. After 5 minutes, remove from heat and add rum.
Watch out when you add the rum and stir, it will cause a commotion in the pan and it may startle you.

Now is the process to slooooowly pour the glaze over our (upside down, still in the pan) cake.

Pour a cup of the glaze into a measuring cup you are able to pour form, easily.

Slooooowly drizzle the glaze over the top, around the sides, towards the center of the cake. You may need to take small breaks to make sure it all absorbs. Pour pour pour. Once all poured, walk away for a little bit (30 minutes to an hour)

Come back, once again, place serving plate on top of cake, and flip it. It should pop out beautifully.

VIOLA!

RUMCAKE! If your not too drunk from sampling the glaze and sipping rum, cut yourself a piece and enjoy. Even if you are drunk, you probably need some food by now. So eat up!

Served with coffee this makes a wonderful breakfast (in my opinion)

Filter?

Yes, I apparently don't have one that functions all the time.

This weekends random statement that had me chuckling, and my friends looking at me with the ever so common confused, entertained look on their face.

"Move Over Peanut Butter, Jelly is Movin' In!!!

This may seem like an appropriate statement for breakfast or even lunch conversation...Maybe notsomuch for shopping at Banana Republic with your girlfriends.

GULP!

Easter Shenanigans

Easter may have been a couple of weeks ago, but the celebration memories will last forever.

What better way to celebrate a story of a deity turning into a zombie than dye Easter Eggs with friends?

I’ll tell you how. Drink Car Bombs*, and ButterBall** shots while dying eggs!!!

*For the younguns that may read this, a Car Bomb is a half pint of Guinness with a shot of Bailey’s dropped in. Some add a tad of Irish whiskey to the shot, I do not. That would be ‘yucky’. Do not try this at home unless you are a trained professional, like I am.

**A ButterBall is another delicious concoction of Baileys and Butterscotch schnapps.
Side note1: 8 am yoga the next day was not as delicious as the shots the night before, I would like to publically apologize to the people next to me that has to smell my stinky, sweaty hungover self. Sorry ‘bout that.

You Know You’re an “Athlete” When:

You get a personalized letter in the mail inviting you to an event, solely on your performance at a previous event. Not a mass mailing, not a mass email but a letter, hand addressed to you with the words, “we would like to personally invite you to participate in our event”.

Whoa! Me? Really?

COOL!

Looks like my Tri season this year just got one more race because who can turn down that invitation?

Leadville, here I come!

Less Than Zero

In the past week I lost two people, one a family member I always loved and admired and one an old flame that I had written off years ago when his lifestyle and mine didn’t seem to mesh together any longer.

Grief is a funny thing, I can be abnormally stoic to a point, and then like a steamroller out of control it hits me.

Hard.

Through these times I am reminded of lessons learned, people’s impressions left on our lives and other relationships formed because of these people.

Also my emotional compass has been spinning like a top.

Rest in Peace Aunt Judy. You were always a bright light to me and taught me invaluable lessons like never care what people think of you and never apologize for speaking your mind. And the most amusing lesson you taught me, while in the Caribbean underwear is prohibited. Noted. You lived life to its fullest and I can only hope to live mine like you did yours.

Rest in Peace Greg Flack. You were my first boyfriend, I was the first to break your heart. I hope your soul has found the peace you desperately searched for all these years. I can only hope your children also find peace and comfort knowing their father is no longer fighting the demons he fought for so many years. I can’t help to be angry with you also. I am sure you expected that.

Thank you to my old and recent friends for their love, support and understanding through this really fucked up time. One lesson I have recently learned is throughout my life I have chosen amazing people to surround myself with. You all mean so much to me.

Thank you.

Valentines Day

This is ‘Nugget’: He HATES Valentines Day!

This is Jayne: She doesn’t think highly of it

This is Lyssa: She doesn’t know what to think.


We all agreed Erica is our favorite Omlette Parlour waitress. Her mimosa’s are pure love!

Birthday Party Recap (late)

Yeah I know my birthday was over a month ago, but what can I say?

As I affectionately tell my ‘Nugget’: “ Bitch, I’ve been BUSY!"

Snow in the mountains, sun on the Front Range and so much fun to be had.

This year it was discovered that my friend Lauren and I share the same birthday.

Thank goodness she was on the ball for planning her party, I tagged along with it since we have a lot of mutual friends and she planned it at an awesome location. The Cliff House in Manitou Springs.

Since Mardi Gras was the same week of our birthday. That was the theme. 'Mardi Gras Ball' No admittance without a mask. No exceptions, except Brownie, but he sucks.

There were local characters. Purple Lloyd made his appearance.


There were friends










Disguises



Family (my mommasita and step father)


More friends



Dancing


Balloons
Don't think I wasn't suckin down helium all night, what is a few more dead brain cells?

New uses for spanx were unveiled

Noone flew away



And I became a year older! (Although no more mature.)

Sundance Film Festival 2010

Sundance Film Festival 2010 was an experience I will never forget. Even though 4 weeks have past, I still am struggling with how to document it.


I can do it chronologically. List the movies I saw, the celebrities I saw, the friends I met. So many choices.

Unfortunately I was unable to take many pictures since cameras were not allowed during work, when we had an audience and actors/directors/producers in the theater.

Let me start from the beginning. Many people have asked how I came to go to Sundance Film Festival. My long time friend Leslie, lives in Park City with her husband John and daughter Brooke.

She is a returning volunteer for the festival every year. This year, on Wednesday the week before the festival, She announced on facebook that she was unable to work her shifts due to a scheduling conflict. I immediately looked at plane tickets to Utah and booked my trip. Not only was I going to the festival, but I was going to get the opportunity to spend time with Leslie and meet her daughter Brooke for the first time.

Brooke is 100% little princess and we had a ball playing dress up and casting “magic spells” in her room to keep the nightmares away.

Friday evening was my first whirlwind night of work. Considering I had to wake up at 2:30 am to catch my flight. I knew working until 10pm would be a challenge.

Dressed in my volunteer uniform which was a Kenneth Cole Ski Parka, I was off to my first shift at work.

I Like to call this look "Storm Trooper Chic"

To make it more exciting we had two big premiers that evening at the theater I was working at. Including Adrian Grenier’s (star of Entourage) film, staring Paris Hilton.



Yes, Miss Hilton was in the audience. Her skin is orange and she smells like cigarettes. She also likes to smoke in public restrooms. Apparently she doesn’t want any Paparazzi to film her dirty little habits.
By the end of my first night the celebrity spotting was low, I blame it on my exhaustion.

Celebrities sighted:
Adrian Grenier
Paris Hilton

Movies watched:
Teenage Paparazzo
Douchebag

Saturday, after an amazing nights rest, Leslie and I snuck away for a pedicure while her husband John entertained Brooke before I went to work.

The movies I saw Saturday night:
Night Catches Us
Sympathy for Deliciouse
The Perfect Host

Celebrity sightings Saturday Night:
Jake Scott
Seth Rogan
Constatine Morales (from American Idol—I had no idea who he was until someone told me after I had a conversation with him about where he could find the concession stand)
Parker Posey (Love her!)
Orlando Bloom – (oh goodness what an extremely handsome man! I got the pleasure of escorting him to the restroom. Glamorous, I know)
Juliette Lewis –(Very nice!!! She also complimented my shoes. Another fan of the red patten leather danskos, lady has good taste.)
Ron Livingston (aka: Peter from Office Space –I also got to show him to the restroom in the back of the theater. I was getting good at this. Hot, attractive, famous men talking to me and I got to show them where the water closet was. This is not how it happens in my dreams.)
Mark Ruffilo

Sunday was much lighter in the celebrity sightings, but I did see the most powerful movie of the entire festival.
8 A Mormon Proposition. If/when this movie comes to a theater near you. I strongly recommend seeing it. Wow!
At times during the filming you could hear the audiences emotional reactions. It was very moving.
The mayor of San Francisco was in the audience along with some men from the Mormon Church who you could tell were NOT happy about this film.

Movies viewed Sunday:
12th and Delaware
8 A Mormon Proposition
Lovers of Hate
Three Backyards
Monday morning I got up bright and early and rushed downtown to try to catch a viewing of The Runaways. A festival favorite. Unfortunately I missed this movie but it gave me more time with Leslie and Brooke.
I have to include this photo of Brooke since I have the exact same skirt and top. I never thought of mixing the pink cotton top with the black tulle skirt, but since she can pull it off I am sure I can too, no?


At the airport later that day, I was chatting with a young lady, her mother and who I assumed was her aunt. Turns out she was one of the supporting actresses in The Runaways. Now I can’t wait ot see it in the theaters to see her again. She was a delightful girl.

It’s official, I am hooked on Sundance. I will certainly be there again next year!

English Beat and Fishbone

I know how in the past I have written about my favorite band in the whole wide world: "English Beat". They are in Colorado this weekend with Fishbone.


Ths weekend I get the pleasure of seeing them not once, but twice. Tomorrow in Denver, Sunday in Aspen. To make the deal sweeter, thanks to my old school friend Meaghan, who has connections, we are on the guest list and full back stage access. I will be the girl with the perma grin all weekend long.

I promise to post a full report once I come out of my euphoric state.

Also, if I meet Dave Wakeling, I just may explode. Just throwing that out as a forewarning to the world.

Girlfriend Quotes:

“The Man I am not dating is absolutely perfect” — Jeri Davis

Why haven’t I updated my blog in a while?

Blame my employment search, blame my hectic schedule of reading, yoga, exercise, hiking, snowboarding. Blame the recent sickness I battled and hope to be conquering soon…or blame my best friend.

She hadddd to blog about cross stitching.

True I gave her this addiction years ago, but now she reminded me to break out my “Pates Baroni”. A piece I started over three years ago but just started tackling with full enthusiasm again.

When complete it will look like this.


Now it looks like this.


Here is a close up, yes, every “X” is two stitches. Each color change is a whole other process I am not willing to discuss, lets just say it can be a little tedious but strangely relaxing.

RIP Mr. Salinger

Growing up reading was not my favorite thing to do. With a speech impediment, and many years of speech therapy, reading out loud was my nemesis. Reading felt like a punishment. I hated it. Having hated reading out loud, lead to not enjoying reading at all.

Then one day in junior high school (somewhere around 12-13 years old) I saw a book in the library titled “Catcher in the Rye”. The title caught my eye and I ignored it.

The next week, while walking home from school, my best friend told me in her Advanced English class, (unlike me, she liked to read). They were reading “Catcher in the Rye”. The next day I walked into the library, and walked out with the book. I didn’t necessarily check it out. Don’t ask me why. I had a strange rebellious streak.

I read the book over the course of a weekend and now our 2.5 mile walks home were consumed of talking and quoting from this book, discussions of what Holden Caulfield would be like in person and how we both dreamed of meeting a boy like that. When other girls were oogling boys in school, we both developed huge crushes on Holden Caulfield. I still have a strange school-girl crush on this fictional character. I read that stolen copy over a dozen times before it found a new owner in my collegiate years. Ironically it was stolen from me. A book that good tends to grow legs.

I believe karma has paid me back for my stealing of my original copy. I have since bought more than a half-dozen copies of this book as gifts for my nieces and nephews and anyone that has ever said they have not read this book. It is a must read.

Because of “Catcher in the Rye”, I learned that reading can be enjoyable and sometimes I can relate to the characters. Because of J.D Salingers writing, I developed a love affair with reading.

RIP Holden Caulfield. I hope they throw you in a river or something and no-one brings you flowers when you’re dead. Who wants flowers when their dead anyways? Nobody.

Home From Sundance Film Festival

Late last night I made it home from Park City Utah, where some movies were being shown and some celebrities were spotted.

After a long nap, I'll tell ya all about it, including what Paris Hilton smells like and who is hot, and who is not.

For now, ‘nighty night. I must recover with some sleep.

2:30:12

Wednesday, January 13. Thanks to “Travelocity last minute deals” I decide to go to Phoenix and run in my second Rock and Roll half marathon.

Thank you to my high school girlfriend Kara for registering me considering my plane landed as the expo was closing.

Here is the report:

Coral #15. These people look serious, they are all talking about their pace times, what their averages are…I am thinking I am in trouble, I know my overall best times and I have seen my pace from Rock Canyon before but I can only remember seeing high numbers from the fall series like 14 minute miles…When did I see that? Was it Palmer Park? Was it yesterday ? Uh oh, this could get ugly. Wait, this a smooth, flat road, no ice, no trail, no wall to climb up, no river to cross, or run up for that matter. I am at sea-level. I have oxygen. I’ll be fine. I feel good, I can do this. I will do this. I know the course and I know I am more prepared this time than last time I ran this event. I will do great. Plus the weather is ideal, high supposed to be in the low 60’s, overcast, a slight breeze. Who could ask for better conditions?

Mile 1- Seriously? This is great! I feel great! That was a fast mile. It is usually in the first mile I think, “I am not hydrated enough”, or “maybe I shouldn’t have eaten oatmeal for breakfast”. Or “ That wine was not such a good idea last night.” Not today. I am in perfect condition I feel like.
Oh but I do have to pee. There is a porta potty station at the 1 mile marker with a ridiculous line, yeah not going to waste time there.

Mile 2- still feeling good, oh yeah, I still gotta pee, but that line was too long, there has to be more on course.

Mile 2.5 Oh I REALLY gotta go, I see a Taco Bell and I run in, there is a large black woman cleaning the dining room. As I come in the door she yells at me “You go Girl! You got this! You keep running” I laughed thinking that she was going to scold me for using the restroom, instead the woman’s is occupied and I see the men’s is open. I tell her I am going in, she says she will make sure no man comes in while I use the restroom. As I finish and run out she yells again “you go get ‘em girl!” (total restroom break is 2 minutes, much better than waiting in line). As I get back on course the 2:30 pace sign passes me. Damn, I want to stay in front of the pace sign. So I slowly work my way back up and in front of the sign that will prove to be my race nemesis. I vow to not let the sign pass me again.

Mile 3- look here is the 5k marker.
Last time I ran this event, I remember feeling pains in my ankle and knee around here. I feel Awesome! My knees are happy and my ankle is content. This is GREAT!

Mile 4—1/4 of the way done, well kinda, just coming up, I got this.

Mile 5- Sweet! 5 miles! Seriously, I am thinking Oxygen is an amazing thing, who knew?

Mile 6- I guess I am good, because I am not remembering Mile 6-7-8-9.
The great thing about this event is the music and the bands that are plating along the course. Most are ok. However around mile 8 there was a band that played the worst rendition of “I Shot the Sherriff” by Bob Marley. Think of a Thrash Metal band coving Reggae, yah, doesn’t work so well. I then think “Hey, they never said they were GOOD bands along the course.”

Mile 9- A lady I holding a sign saying “beer in just 4 more miles”. That was way before Mile 9. She lied! Mile 9 is here. 4 more miles. The thought of beer is not a good thought at all. Still it is something to think about. Mmmm, beeeerr. See, I almost forgot I was running.

Mile 10—Okay, I am feeling it, still good over all, but the little aches are popping up.
At some point I was thinking of a quote I saw on a friends blog, it stated “the first half you run with your legs the second you run with your heart.” It was in reference to Ultra-marathons, but I could relate, I needed this inspiration. I am feeling good, but not going to lie. I am feeling it and I am now reminding myself of why I started running, cycling, and other crazy active adventures.
My thoughts go to my family. My friends, people I love and care about that are fighting daily battles with health and life.

Keep running.

I start to get emotional in my head. I pull it together and think of how great I feel. Okay so I may lie to myself a bit. Truth be told, I did feel great. I was out here doing it. What more could a person ask for?

Keep Running

Mile 11- I am tired, I see my 2:30 pace sign go by, I was so good to hold them off until now. I think to myself “I can’t keep up this pace”. I am upset with myself. I got to walk/run in small bits. I was HOPING for a 2:30 time, but as the sign goes off in the distance I want to cry. I am hitting my wall.
Keep running. Break down the wall

Mile 12—My head starts playing games with me, I am asking myself “does that mean 12th and 13th mile left? 1 more mile? 2 more miles? 12 more miles?” yeah, I am spent. It is amazing how your head plays games on you. Normally I love numbers, math, playing with numbers almost constantly in my head. But now I cannot comprehend what this 12 sign means for my 13.1 mile run.

Keep running.

Mile 13—Oh, I know this game, I learned it last time I was here. The finish line seems right up around the next turn, it’s not, nor the next, nor the next. I am prepared. Prepared to keep running

Oh damn, a man collapsed less than 100 feet from the finish, that sucks. When I come by I see the EMT’s working on him. He is not good. Kind of a bummer thing to see, he is certainly unconscious, and in bad shape. I later learned the doctors were incubating him right there on the street, not a good thing at all.

Keep running.

Finish strong.

I go for my finish line sprint, yeah not happening, I ran in with all I had.

I cross the finish line to look at my watch 2:30:12. REALLY???!!!

I think to myself “HOLY SHIT! I DID IT!” Plus I don’t feel like barfing. AWESOME!!!

My new PR for a half marathon!!!

As I milled around the finish line, looked around the crowd my mind settled in again to my motivation. I did this today because others can’t.

Then I wanted to barf. Thankfully I never did.


Here is me and my high school friend and event cheerleader Kara at the finish line

Next event, Boulder Half Marathon in March.

Fruitcake Toss

What does one do with all that fruitcake after Christmas?

As a child I had a theory that there were only a few fruitcakes in the world and they were re-gifted year after year after year.

This theory was crushed when I saw my father actually EAT a fruitcake. I thought, "Well now there is one less. They will soon be extinct."

In Manitou Springs, for the past 15 years, we Southern Coloradoans know EXACTLY what to do with fruitcake.

TOSS IT!



See this man's form? He is winding up. Fruitcake tossing takes serious skill.


"My Daddy is tossing A Fruitcake"


The announcer. Who entertained us with tales of his fruitcake museum, tips of what to do with fruitcake and other life lessons. Such as, do not leave the dogs alone with the Fruitcake Museum, for they may eat it.

Did you know fruitcake was the first post-it note?
Can be used as an emergency sand-bag?
Used in place of bricks?
These are just a few tid-bits we were taught while we were spectating.

This is the man that won the Men's "Hand-Toss" division.

Holy far throw, Batman!!!
Someone check out that man's arm!

okay, it may be hard to see, but there is a circle with an arrow wayyyyy back in the picture. See it? (I need to work on my editing skills)

It got a little strange when my friend Jess asked for a photo with a fruitcake.

Then she touched his nuts.

Awkward

Next was the Heavy Equipment round.

There were Canon's, Catapults, Sling Shots, Bows, and




a gun.

The one that impressed me.

A gun, that literally shot the fruitcake THROUGH a door.
I am not kidding.

Now I am not a big fan of firearms, but that was fascinating. You could literally kill someone with that thing.

Death by Fruitcake.

Ponder that

The Bow had an amazing launch.

It was made out of skis



The ingenuity was amazing. Human power was necessary set up to fill the air compressors in order to shoot the canon and the gun. For the canon, a man rode this stationary bicycle. For the gun, three people with bike pumps pumped air into a compressor.



Now, you know exactly what to do with fruitcake.