Saturday, September 25, 2010

Lessons Learned

This is Sandy the Guinea Pig. A wonderful pig she was, bringing joy to my beloved god daughter for seven or more years--she was a long-lived pig. I dedicate this blog entry to Sandy who sadly went to the great pig pen in the sky just a few short weeks ago. Godspeed, Sandy.

In four business days, I will finish my tenure at my current job ("of which I do not speak") and will go back to my future, returning to my previous job (of which I certainly will speak). With perfect timing, one of my current-soon-to-be-ex-co-workers asked, "what have you learned while here?" Being that she is from a "recovery model," I knew she wasn't asking about what skills I had learned; she meant what life lessons had I learned.

Her question was asked at the perfect time. Transition is a great time for reflection. What had I learned?

Number one: I missed my peeps. I learned--re-affirmed?--that I absolutely adore working with the chronically mentally ill. It really is my population of choice. Being away from persons with chronic mental illness made me appreciate them even more. Give me a room of men with schizophrenia any day and I'm one happy grrrrl. While I truly enjoyed working with older persons with dementia (no disrespect here), I am made to work in the field of which I hold my degrees. I am so grateful that I have a second chance to be with my peeps.

Number Two: Authenticity rocks. It's integral--like chocolate, breathing and Madonna, authenticity is vital to my very being. Despite knowing this, knowing how important it is to be true to yourself, I became completely untrue the minute I stayed on that job. (I'm not exaggerating when I say I cried every day for a month after starting that job--it was really clear from the beginning that I was a fish out of water.) Quite to my shock, disbelief and horror, I let them shove me right back in the closet. I let them make me their moral issue. I was surrounded by all sorts of parameters I didn't recognize and didn't fight back. I think part of the problem is that the whole thing was so overwhelmingly foreign that I didn't know what the hell to do--it didn't register in my paradigm--it didn't make any sense. I took for granted how my previous job had allowed me to be my authentic self, how my previous co-workers accepted me for whom I am, recognized the wife for who she is to me. Although I didn't "like" the way this lesson came to me, I am thankful for the reminder to never allow anyone to "make me feel inferior without my consent" (thank you, Eleanor Roosevelt) and for the reminder for me to be me, because I am just fine the way I am and because the wife deserves WAY BETTER than what they afforded her to be. The wife rocks.

Number three: That green grass? It's not greener. We all know this, but it's always a surprise when this lesson comes along. The funding for this job looked so much more promising, so much more greener--green money pun intended. I jumped funding ships and found myself on another ship....in the same funding sea.....sinking just like the funding boat I just jumped from. Two years at sea, fighting the same funding waves on a human service, sinking boat with people that weren't one bit fun. At least the boat I had been on in the mental health field had a lot of fun people on it. I left something I loved for greener grass and got smacked in the head. Point taken.

Number Four: It sucks to be my boss. I can be a real ass, an arrogant fool, a pompous ass. I already knew this, so that's not a new lesson. The Universe, with its great sense of humor, brought me to supervisor me as part of my life lesson. In other words, it sucks when you have to be the supervisor of someone who is basically you. I would listen to this lady and think, "oh my god, I've said those exact same words." I recognized the same behaviors, thought patterns and belief systems. I wanted to slap her first and slap me second. I apologize humbly to my previous boss. Trust me when I say I will be a MUCH better employee the second time around. I was meant to leave my job to learn how to do my job.

Number Five: Costco has cheap prescriptions. I wouldn't have known this without changes in my work insurance. I suppose I should thank my current job for that lesson--when your insurance benefit basically dries up, you become creative (and whiny). This creativity (and whiny-ness) led to my education about Costco.com, all credit going to my mother. Thank you, Cool Mama. Thank you, Costco. Take that, bastard drug companies.

Number Six: Never using a sick day doesn't get you any further than using a sick day. It's not like my employer is going to pay me for all those sick days I've accumulated. They don't give you perfect attendance awards. I don't see a bonus check in my future. No one is given out special recognition for me having perfect attendance. I'm not talking about taking sick days for other-than-sick purposes. I'm talking about days I should have stayed home because I was sick but dragged my cross right to my office and made sure not to miss a day. Duh. Take care of yourself. Respect yourself. Recognize the worth of yourself.

Number Seven: Politicians are self-serving asswipes. This is not a new lesson for any of us--it was just an "amped up" lesson for me. Having to spend so much time with politicians increased my understanding of how they are all about keeping their jobs--that's it. They don't give a rat's ass about us or about human services or whatever. They are all lying sacks of poo, all working hard to ensure their re-election. I spit on all of them.

Number Eight: Here's a surprise lesson: I liked dressing up for work. I can live with business casual and business attire. I actually figured out a way how to be authentic in dress while not being authentic to self. I probably lowered the dress code several notches but still managed to look nice 98% of the days I was there. Side note: I also learned that I hate dress socks or hose or whatever those things are called. Blech. I will never wear dress hose again.

Number Nine: You can't fight city hall.
Or, perhaps "there is one in every crowd." I'll leave it at that; suffice it to say, there is always one who you should not waste time fighting about because you will not win--nor is it your job to win. I thank this person for being in my life because I think I actually understand this lesson now. Time will tell!

Number Ten: It's all good. I am a funny, sincere, spiritual big ol' gaywad with a fabulous wife and a fabulous life--no matter what a job tries to tell me. I have two wonderful dogs, I have great health & I am filled with gratitude. I am surrounded by loving, supportive people. I have met Lucy Lawless. I am a Little Monster. The Universe brings me exactly what I need, including life lessons. One final big lesson learned: it's all good. I say it. I mean it. It IS all good. Amen.

Four business days. But, who's counting?
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Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Cheese de la Birthday

While I am excited that Lady Gaga is coming back to town this winter and despite being very distracted by the start of this season's Dancing with the Stars, those things will have to wait. There is a cheese head's birthday event to review.

The wife is still talking about her birthday trip to the mecca...land of green and gold....in fact, she had such a good time that she is thinking this should be an annual tradition.

For those of you not in the know, we packed a pile of Packer gear into the Civic (Packer coats, t-shirts, sweatshirts, hats, pajamas) and hit the road this weekend on the wife's birthday.

The destination? Green Bay.

The reason? To visit the hallowed halls of Ray, Bart, Reggie, Curly.....and, to go to a Green Bay Packer game.


As the wife
was uber-excited, we did indeed leave at noon on Saturday, her actual day of birth. With no stops to slow us down and absolutely perfect weather, we made it in what had to be record time--just over three hours. (Okay--I admit to speeding, but it still was amazingly fast even if I hadn't been speeding.) Before she had time to say "Brett who?" she was standing on the grounds of her beloved team. We didn't waste time going to the hotel--we went right to Lambeau Field. Total awe, oozing with excitement, nostalgia and respect (and most probably a tear), the wife strolled slowly toward Lambeau. Plenty of time was available for visiting the Pro Shop, wandering the atrium, staring at the gates to the historic field.

I am here to tell you: Packer fans are really, really serious about their team, their field. There were all sorts of people milling about, all decked out in their team colors, all snapping photos, all spending money in the Pro shop.

As it was her birthday, I asked the wife to pick something out as her gift--she decided on a Packer baseball jersey. (Is it just me or does anyone else find it humorous that a football team sells baseball jerseys?) Here is a photo of the carpeting in the Pro Shop--like everything else in the town, it shouts GREEN BAY PRIDE!

Yes, those are the wife's shoes. You didn't think I was taking photos of some stranger's feet, did you?

I couldn't go home empty handed and thus purchased a baseball hat. I do not look good in hats but couldn't resist taking home a little something and a hat seemed just as good as anything else. I also got a glo-orange stocking camp...in case I ever go deer hunting, I suppose.

After checking in at the hotel (which was rather non-descript but did have a view of Lambeau if you stood in just the right place in the parking lot), we ventured into the tundra better known as downtown Green Bay. Purely by accident, we ended up at the one place we most certainly should have ended up--Titletown Brewing Company. Talk about the perfect place to eat dinner; talk about the best beer bread on the planet. I felt right at home with the train theme; the wife felt right at home with the entire Titletown theme. Can I just say the food was awesome? Beer drinkers would love the place--plenty of beers to choose from--mix and match at your leisure. If you are ever in Green Bay, make sure to stop by this place. I guarantee it will be worth it. And, get a loaf of sliced beer bread to take home. It's like a giant brick of happiness.

Speaking of beer, Freckles Warrior Princess and Bitty Bichon seemed to be having a good time while we were out of town. Dang dogs were partying without us! At least they were drinking good beer and weren't driving anywhere.


Game day was absolutely delightful.
Perfect weather, tasty free hotel breakfast, free event parking (now THAT'S awesome!), super fabulous seats, vegetarian brats (who knew?), real brats smothered with kraut and brown mustard, fly by during the National Anthem, electric crowd, home opener victory. I'm not sure it can get any better than that....that said by someone born and bred in Bear's country.

There really is no happier place to watch a football game. Everyone at Lambeau is so happy and so colorful and so involved. They talk in "we." It really is their team, as bizarre as I might find this. They embrace the culture of green and gold. They live and breath what happens on that turf. It's no wonder they are so crushed by ol' Number Four. This is more than a game to them. It's the Packers. No wonder the wife is always crying at one time or another during Packer games.

I think we've found a new tradition for the wife's birthday. I can live with that....they just need to keep making those vegetarian brats.

Cheese curd, anyone?
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P.S. Lady Gaga tickets go on sale Friday. Who's with me?!!

Monday, September 20, 2010

She's Super-Geeky, yeow!

I'll get to the Packer weekend blog entry next entry. As this is my blog and it's all about me, I need to brag a bit....and, need a bit of time to make Packer photo collages. Indulge me, won't you?

As many of you are aware, Lucy Bark of Poteidaia jumped on my laptop screen about 7.35 seconds after I brought the new lap top home.... leaving it with this giant magenta worm screaming across the monitor. Now, I love my dog, so I let it go...no use crying over spilled milk or cracked monitors--but, after trying to view the screen through the ever-growing magenta worm (and it did continue to grow as time went on), it got really old. I didn't want to buy a new lap top--what a waste of money that would be--but, this crack was getting ridiculous.....

That's when I decided: why not replace the screen myself? Heck, Youtube made it look REALLY simple. I told myself, "If I can slay the Blue Screen of Death, I can swap out a lap top monitor screen." I found a "Buy it Now" screen on that auction website and, of course, bought it now.

Within days, the new screen was in my hot little hands. Toolbox on the counter, directions printed from the internet, power source removed, one last viewing of the Youtube video....I was ready to go. I promised myself to follow the printed directions.....

As you can see in the photo, it went swimmingly. Well, okay--it didn't go so swimmingly the entire time. Those screws are teeny weeny. Between my big paws and my inability to see up close, it was a challenge. Then, I put the video card in wrong....didn't test the computer until I had put it totally back together.....duh!.....turned it on, screen lit up......stayed white (see center of photo above). Oops! That meant taking all those stupid little screws out again. I am grateful that the wife was willing to help me with "round two" because I was starting to get a little befuckled and irritated.

I did follow the written directions, which may be a first.

The green arrows in the photo point to the sweet success. As I type this, I am giddy with happiness. I don't have to peek around the magenta crack worm. The screen is crystal clear. I am proud to say I didn't electrocute myself, didn't blow up anything, didn't sustain any injuries....puffed myself right up with a true sense of accomplishment. I'm not exactly ready to open a computer repair shop, but it was fun, rewarding and MUCH cheaper than getting a new lap top.

You know, with all that money I saved....maybe I can get another Lady Gaga ticket.....
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Tuesday, September 14, 2010

The Perfect Week

The wife is SUPER excited these days for two reasons: one, we are going to a Packers Game this weekend; and two, she got a "Magikloth" for her birthday. This has the makings of the perfect week.

Here's a photo of the wife, beaming with joy, at a previously-enjoyed Packers Game. Yes, it is freezing. Yes, that is me hiding behind a neck gaiter because I can no longer feel my feet and I am seeking one shred of warmth. But, I digress.

Let's start with the cleaning product, shan't we? Dear friend Otis Cabrio gave the wife a few of these Magiklean diddies in honor of number 46. (Does this friend know the wife or what? Cleaning products for the birthday are the bomb in our house.) The claim is that the magikloth (yes, spelled like that--I even went on line to check) cleans things like windows, mirrors, stainless steel, windshields and even computer monitors without streaking. At least that is what the flyer says.

If you know the wife, you know this is the second most perfect gift--the first perfect gift being tickets to a Packers game.

As she has a lust--a diagnosable illness--for cleaning and a serious disdain for streaky car windows, the wife has been on a mission magikleaning everything in sight. She cleaned my computer monitor as she walked by; she cleaned the fireplace glass doors; she danced her way right out to the garage. I haven't seen her since. From the "oooohs" and "ahhhhs" I am hearing, I am betting that this magikcloth is actually working.

I'll get back to you about the success of the magikloth on my windshield after I drive to and from work tomorrow. The test is always to take the car out into the actual elements--everything looks good when it's in the garage.....

As for the Packers, brother Tommy Hilfiger, as you know from a previous post, gave the wife a Packer ticket for her birthday. We haven't been to a Packers game in a few years and, if you are the wife, you can NEVER go to too many Packer Games, so this is a pretty big deal.

This photo is from 1997--I've used this photo before and couldn't resist using it again, as it is a classic. That's some seriously big hair we are sporting. (Click on photo to see a close up of those manes.) Let's not even talk about the rolled-up jeans.

Anyways, the wife is really pumped for the birthday game. She purchased a new shirt for the occasion and is ready for any kind of weather that might come our way. Being the fun, romantic type that I am (I really do try, despite basically being a neanderthal), I reserved a hotel room for us so we could go up the night before. She had been lamenting about how she didn't want to drive there and back on the same day and kept talking about how she wanted to stay in Green Bay, so I thought it would be awesome to surprise her. (No offense to the wife or the people of Wisconsin: I have no desire to stay in a Green Bay hotel, so this is indeed a nice gift from my self-centered, Chicago-orange-and-blue-bred heart. The things we do for love.) I had it all figured out, even got the gaybors involved. It was a perfect plan.....

...but, alas....the wife just couldn't stay off line and couldn't stop looking at the hotel prices and wouldn't stop reading aloud the hotel prices. She exclaims the name and price of the hotel I have made reservations.... it's--of course--significantly cheaper than the price I paid for when making the reservations.....

I give up. I am all about saving money these days. I don't want to spend one penny more than I have to on a hotel room. I'd rather spend it on food while at the stadium or to by the wife some cheese-related product in honor of her birthday. I wave the cheddar flag and tell her of my surprise so she can book that reservation and I can cancel mine.

Sigh. She is impossible to surprise.

Suffice it to say, she is one happy Packer Fan who is indeed enjoying this perfect week and who is having her birthday wishes come true. All she needs to make it absolutely perfect is a Packer Victory and successfully magikleaned windshields.

I'd say there's a 99% chance of an absolutely fabulous cheddar-flavored birthday.....hope she brings the magikloth along so she can clean my car windows while I drive.....
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Friday, September 10, 2010

Carol Brady Gets Her Groove On

I'm not sure about this new blog lay out. I'm chewing on it.....

I had originally planned to write about today's gag-producing, unforgettable work poop incident, but the wife and I are so excited about Florence Henderson being on this season's DWTS that the poop story will have to wait.

Perhaps it is a really good thing a distraction from the poop story came along. Suffice it to say that Addi Warrior Princess may have met her match today. Never once has poop of another made me gag. Today, I waivered. I persevered, but there was a moment that I didn't think I was going to make it.

Back to Carol Brady.

While it's fun to think about Jennifer "I have titanium in my neck/NO ONE puts Baby in a corner" Grey dancing once again (RIP, Patrick Swayze) and I'm giddy with delight that David Hasselhoff has agreed to drag his sorry-ass across the dance floor (someone get that guy a burger and a beer!), what's not to love about a dancing Mama Brady? Carol Brady is about to get her groove on!

Florence Henderson has always been one groovy chick. This is taking her groove to a whole new level. She is uber-groovy!

Let's face it: the matriarch of the Brady Bunch has the DWTS voting locked! Unless she is so bad at dancing that it makes you want to poke your eyes out, she is going to win, because everyone I know is going to vote for Carol.

I know she's rockin' my vote.

Come on, admit it: You watched the Brady Bunch. You loved the Brady Bunch. You wanted to live in the Brady Bunch. You wanted Carol Brady, shag-wearing cool mom that she was, to be your mom. You smile when you think about Marcia's broken nose, Cindy's lisp, Peter's voice change, the pork chops and apple sauce......

ADMIT IT: YOU CAN SING THE BRADY BUNCH SONG. Don't lie to me and say you can't, because if you grew up in America and had a television in your home, I know you can sing that song. "Here's a story, of a lovely lady....."

I hear you humming.

So, my money is on this super-young 76 year old mom of the 20th century......

.....well, unless David Hasselhoff shows up in a Speedo. Then, all bets are off.
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Monday, September 06, 2010

Back to the Future

This photo of Freckles Warrior Princess really has nothing to do with anything except that it gives me a good way to update you on her yeasty beasties. I know you haven't been able to sleep, waiting with anticipation to get such an update. Fatty Patty kind of looks possessed in this photo, with those eyes glowing, but suffice it to say she is no longer possessed by the yeasties. Those daily baths, anti-biotics and steroids have done wonders to tame her skin issues. The house and car no longer smell like something died in them; the wife is happier; the dog doesn't look so miserable; her friends have stopped shunning her.

I've been thinking a lot about the whole Lady Gaga and Madonna thing. I feel like I've been cheating on Madge. While weeding yesterday, I had a lot of time to chew on all this. (These are the profound things that occupy my mind.) That lady Gaga concert got me all befuckled and tested my true love for the Material Grrrrl. After much review, I've decided that: (1) I would still pick Madonna over Lady Gaga in a cat fight; (2) I would still rather go on a date with Madonna rather than Gaga (mainly because I am old enough to be Lady Gaga's mother and that's creepy weird to even think about); (3) I'm still gonna pick Madonna over Lady Gaga in general, as Madonna has longevity, paved the way for performers like Gaga and has better biceps.

Now that I've solved that world crisis, it's time to tell you I am going back....to my old place of employment--back to the future, if you will. (This would be news to my current employees, as they don't know I've resigned...they'll know tomorrow.....but, they don't read this blog and are too busy praying to save my soul to read this, so I think this information is safe enough to post for this milli-second.) It was time. I am humbled and honored that my previous--and soon to be current--employer would consider taking me back. I spent nine years there and have been gone for two years....back to the place where I can have a future. MJagger is there; they don't care that I lust Lady Gaga; they love the wife; it's my population of choice (working with the mentally ill); it affords me much better insurance; no one will be praying for my redemption (that I know of); it's where Freckles Warrior Princess came into power; it's where Lucy Bark of Poteidaia literally came from (thank goodness for that co-worker bringing a cardboard box of puppies to the office so I could pick Lucy to join our family); the CEO is a HUGE Packer fan (quite to the wife's delight). It will give me many blogging stories (confidentiality maintained, of course--with no disrespect to those with mental illness--god knows, I've got enough diagnoses) and I won't have to say stupid things like, "the place of which I do not speak." It's in the same funding ocean, just a different boat (hopefully, not the Titanic). I might as well have a good time and work with my population of choice if I'm going to be out at sea.

You long-time readers (all three of you) are well aware of this place of employment. I know you are excited, too. And so, like Marty McFly, I'm going back to the future....without the Delorean, of course.

Friday, September 03, 2010

Riding on your Disco Stick

I had a choose between taking a nap before going out tonight and writing a blog. Lucky you--I chose to remain sleep deprived and write the blog. After all, I am on a gaga high and must write of it before I crash and burn.

May I just say: If imitation is truly the finest, highest form of flattery, Madonna must be flattered til she's splattered on the glitter covered, disco dance floor.

MJagger, her sister and I (being the concert whores that we are) went to the Lady Gaga concert in Milwaukee last night....on a school night, as the wife likes to say. (The wife stayed home. She chose to pass on the AddiGaga experience.) I put on my cargo shorts (great place to keep things like cell phone, wallet, disco stick--this is no time to dress up.....although I did consider gaga-ing myself), snagged some fast food for the road and hit the tollway. A few hours later, I met my concert-going friends at their hotel near the venue.

We knew it'd be weird, fun, entertaining....but, really you can't understand Lady Gaga until you've personally experienced her and her fans in person.

I've decided Lady Gaga doesn't put on a concert--she puts on a performance--a happening--a spewing of glitter, fashion, music, purpose, tattoos, naughtiness, fun--an explosion of little monsters prancing around like they are at the world's biggest, most fun gay pride extravaganza (which, in actuality they were at--Lady Gaga is quite the supporter of the LGBT community & puts on quite the homoerotic show). All five senses are drown in overload--it's visually delicious, loud with a purpose. My knee pain provided a tactile, kinesethic event while the passing of an illegal substance and smelly armpits fulfilled any olfactory need.

We didn't have seats, as the new way to do concerts is to be on the floor--where they used to have floor seats--and not have seats. Go figure. There are literally no chairs. Actually, it is really smart, as when you do have seats, you don't sit in them, anyways and it makes for a great dance floor, albeit cement in nature (hard on the knees). Being that MJagger and her sister are professional concert goers, I knew we wouldn't have any trouble weaseling our way up to the catwalk. By the time Gaga made it to the end of the catwalk, we were up close and personal--I could see the whites of Gaga's big eyes.

This is a photo of what looks to be Lady Gaga peeing in the hallway. Actually, it is a Gaga-wanna be squatting for no known reason in the hallway. She wasn't peeing and was actually very nice. How do I know this? Because I ended up talking to her and her Gaga-ized friend while waiting for the concert to start.

Really does look like she's peeing, tho.

Gaga kept us waiting for quite some time before starting the show. No opening bad--who needs an opening act when you are the heir to the Madonna throne? By the time she finally took the stage, the place was vomiting with excitement.

The premise is that we, her little freaks--called "Little Monsters," are on a mission to find the "Monster ball," kind of like Dorothy looking for the Wizard of Oz....only, with a lot less clothing & a lot more music. Of course, getting to the ball is quite the challenge. I must say, we were taken on a journey like no other.

Sure beats a cross country family vacation in a station wagon.

Gaga had a lot to say--I think she talked more than any other performer I have seen--she confessed her insecurities, asked for our support, oozed love and pride and gratitude for us. I am pretty sure she performed every song she has every recorded in the two plus hour concert. She danced and pranced and strutted; she covered herself with blood, changed outfits more in one show than I do in one month. Gaga sang her heart out (after he ate her heart), taking oath never to lip sync during live performances. She channeled Madonna throughout the show--dressing up like a nun on a subway (complete with see through nun habit), setting a statue of Jesus/angel statue on fire after having it bleed from the wings, rolling on the floor touching herself like there was no tomorrow.

In other words, it was genius.

Gaga repeatedly reminded the crowd that Jesus loves everyone, even her motley crew of little monsters. Where were my co-workers when I needed them to hear this? In case you had any doubts about yourself, you left there without them. Gaga should have been a therapist. Heck, her concert was much cheaper than therapy and a hell of a lot more fun (this coming from a counselor--I should know).

We won't even talk about how much cheaper her concert tickets are than Madonna's tickets.

I enjoyed Gaga's unstuffing of her bra. Not very often you see a performer do that. I also enjoyed that she gave $20,000 to a local charity supporting GLBT services.

By the time we found the Monster Ball--just in time for her "Bad Romance" encore, my knees were on fire in pain, I was a dripping ball of sweat, I was covered in spilled-when-dancing-beer and I was thinking about how much I'd like to see this concert again. I give her two monster paws up.

The only regret was that I left my camera in the car.
I figured they wouldn't let me bring it in. I was wrong. Cameras were everywhere and she didn't care one bit; in fact, she encouraged everyone to take photos. What a refreshing change of concert pace. Camera phone photos don't do justice to anything--they look like crap. Well, at least I have some to remember the event.....

....besides my sore, aching, bruised knees.

You know it was a good time when you can go to work the next day after getting four hours of sleep and people are commenting about what a good mood you are in.

If you want to read what the Milwaukee paper had to say about this particular performance, go to http://www.jsonline.com/entertainment/musicandnightlife/102148864.html

Take my word for it: Lady Gaga is bizarre, delicious, vulgar, funny, entertaining, empowering, delightful, happy, shiny, healing, energetic, colorful, naughty, bloody and genius.

Here that sound, Madonna? That's your heir apparent sneaking up behind you. Don't turn around....your mini-me has arrived....and she is most definitely not bluffin' with her muffin.'