You'd think that having given notice back in December there'd be long, luxuriously lazy days of absolutely nothing in January whilst I take a much-needed, long-awaited break from the frenzy that masqueraded as "my life." You'd think that I'd have plenty of time now to cook, (try to) bake, eat, drink, live and blog an oh so delicious life. You'd think that with all that free time and available mindshare, at the very least, I could randomly select a reader's comment, quickly string together a few witless sentences that don't require any pre-meditation, and toss up a winning post.
The reality, though, is that "notice" is just that - notice. It's just a courtesy warning. A heads up. A "Hey, I don't plan on being here much longer." "Notice" is not an actual "I am D-U-N done, spinning on my 4" stiletto heel and clack-clack-clacking out of this place that has been slowly siphoning the bloodlife out of my soul right. this. very..."
Six weeks later.
While the industry standard for "much longer" is two weeks, I seem to be in some alternate industry universe where two weeks is stretched out to six weeks of actual calendar time, into which 12 weeks of workload is squozen. Let my Asian side do the physics for you: that kind of volume creates a hell of a lot of pressure. To that equation, add a brand new baby nephew who lives less than an hour away by distance, but three hours away by rush hour traffic drive-time and "busy" becomes a gross understatement. "Swamped" is being polite. I wake up before dawn, careen through the day's activities, and try to keep the hundred bazillion thoughts in my head from overheating and exploding into a gray pulpy managerial mess all over my laptop screen.
I just haven't had the time for my Delicious Life, to pick a random comment, to post the lucky winner. I'm a busy busy busybusybusy girl!
Ohalrightfine! So, that's mostly true. Life is chaotically busy, but I also kind of just wanted to wait for the post to get more than seven comments so I wouldn't look and feel like a total bloser (bloser. "bloo-zer" noun. portmanteau of "blog" and "loser."), and yes! I'm not a total bloser! Just a partial one! There are actually more than seven comments!
Now, despite what rumors may be flying around out there about my playing favorites, being susceptible to blackmail, open to bribery, and all-around inexplicable capricious biases, I played this one fairly and chose a winner at random. So as not to fall under the influence of comment campaigning, I geeked out on a random number generator, and can say that the recipient of a brand new covetous copy of In the Land of Cocktails is...
Comment #26 from sailorpikaangel, whose choice of a A Long Slow Comfortable Screw Up Against a Wall didn't seduce me in any way IswearonmynextCitronandsoda.
sailorpikaangel, would you mind emailing moi with your mailing address so that I can send you the book?
For everyone else, a recipe follows for sailorpikaangel's favorite cocktail, A Long Slow Comfortable Screw Up Against a Wall, which I love blogging out loud because I just do, okay?
A Long Slow Comfortable Screw Up Against a Wall
Supposedly, the name of this drink is some representation of all the ingredients, which I get with the sloe gin for "slow," Southern Comfort for "comfortable" and the vodka and orange juice for "screw"(driver), but I'm not quite sure where the "long" comes in -- perhaps the long, lean Galliano bottle? Your guesses are as good as mine.
In a tall glass filled with ice, stir together 1 part each of vodka, sloe gin, and Southern Comfort. Fill with orange juice and then float 1 part Galliano.