Today was a banner day for me. You see, I’m a bit of a screw-up in the kitchen. I avoid preparing meals (anything short of warming up food already “made” by a faceless corporation, you see) at all costs.

Today that changed.

I was craving my sister’s chicken noodle soup, which she made from scratch the last time she was in town.

This afternoon I placed the phone call that, quite literally, changed my life. I called Katie for the recipe, and then went to the grocery store to purchase the necessary ingredients.

A few hours later, my soup was ready to be served. (Townley, party of one.)

I was equal parts elated and ecstatic as I slurped away the flavorful broth and chewed the tender vegetables, chunks of chicken and extra-wide egg noodles.

I was so pleased at my culinary achievement that I took this photo, to prove that I had, in fact, prepared a meal in the kitchen that didn’t end up disastrous.

I can’t wait for leftovers.

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Remember: Today is as much about saying “I love you” as it is hearing those three little words.

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I just ran a Google image search using the phrase “Valentine’s Day.”

This is the third result.

I can’t make stuff like this up.

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OK, so you didn’t ask for more photos, loyal reader. But I couldn’t resist posting these beauties from 1999.

They are related.

How, you may ask?

Our first photo was taken during a spring break trip to Mazatlan, Mexico. It was my first and last MTV-inspired spring break trip. It was horrible and I loathed every minute of it.

I developed a furious sunburn and spent much of the trip walking the dusty, poverty-stricken streets of this tiny party town searching for a power adapter for my laptop. (I didn’t plan on Mexico’s power outlets being different than those I used back home.)

I realized within moments upon touching down in Mexico that the girls I traveled with on this particular getaway were more interested in consuming massive quantities of alcohol while congruently sleeping with as many male coeds as possible during the next few days.

Naive Wendy didn’t anticipate such nefarious activities by her fellow travelers on this trip, which is why I agreed to go in the first place. But after realizing this was on each and every girl’s itinerary, I opted out immediately. I holed up in my motel room for much of the trip, typing away on my laptop.

I shared my frustration about searching for a power adapter with our waiter (Photo A). A few days into the trip, however, the waiter produced the necessary power adapter I needed to juice up my laptop’s battery while in Mexico.

Bless him. And I didn’t even have to sleep with him.

Lucky Wendy.

Photo A

Days after returning home from my Mexican adventure, I decided to get my first tattoo: a daisy on my lower back. My daisy was the handiwork of Devin at Villain’s Tattoos in South Omaha.

Photo B is of me and Devin moments after my daisy had bloomed.

Photo B

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Here’s the photo some anonymous reader requested.

The location: the senior hallway at Daniel J. Gross Catholic High School during our senior year, which would’ve been in either late ’96 or early ’97.

The parties: yours truly was stuffed in her locker by her good friends Jenny Strazdas (sp?) and Cindy Vacek. (My yearbooks have been missing for years, so I have no way to confirm the correct spelling of Jenny’s last name.)

The story: I’m small. It’s no secret. So Jenny and Cindy thought it would be funny to push me into my locker and make the moment memorable with a photograph, which is below.

I wonder if I could still fit into that locker.

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There’s something just wonderful about receiving an email like this:

From: Gary Smollen
Sent: Wednesday, February 07, 2007 3:41 PM
To: Townley, Wendy (CCI-Omaha)
Subject: FW: jpeg request

So I have this thing where I collect old pictures of people and blackmail them.

Apparently Gary, a TV reporter for WOWT, was working on a story at my high school when he came across my senior photo on display in the front lobby.

And Gary, being the nice guy that he is, implored his photographer to shoot video of my photo, simply to send it to me (and who knows who else) later. God love you, Gary!

I hope this closes the case for any of you wondering why I hacked off my hair in college.

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The Texas Observer certainly does the late Molly Ivins justice.

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What follows are new words for the new year.

1. BLAMESTORMING: Sitting around in a group, discussing why a deadline was missed or a project failed, and who was responsible.

2. SEAGULL MANAGER: A manager, who flies in, makes a lot of noise, craps on everything, and then leaves.

3. ASSMOSIS: The process by which some people seem to absorb success and advancement by kissing up to the boss rather than working hard .

4. SALMON DAY: The experience of spending an entire day swimming upstream only to get screwed and die in the end.

5. CUBE FARM : An office filled with cubicles.

6. PRAIRIE DOGGING : When someone yells or drops something loudly in a cube farm, and people’s heads pop up over the walls to see what’s going on.

7. MOUSE POTATO : The on-line, wired generation’s answer to the couch potato.

8. SITCOMs: Single Income, Two Children, Oppressive Mortgage. What Yuppies get into when they have children and one of them stops working to stay home with the kids.

9. STRESS PUPPY: A person who seems to thrive on being stressed out and whiny.

10. SWIPEOUT: An ATM or credit card that has been rendered useless because magnetic strip is worn away from extensive use.

11. XEROX SUBSIDY: Euphemism for swiping free photocopies from one’s workplace.

12. IRRITAINMENT: Entertainment and media spectacles that are Annoying but you find yourself unable to stop watching them.

13. PERCUSSIVE MAINTENANCE: The fine art of whacking the crap out of an electronic device to get it to work again.

14. ADMINISPHERE : The rarefied organizational layers beginning just above the rank and file. Decisions that fall from the adminisphere are often profoundly inappropriate or irrelevant to the problems they were designed to solve.

15. 404: Someone who’s clueless. From the World Wide Web error Message “404 Not Found,” meaning that the requested site could not be located.

16. GENERICA : Features of the American landscape that are exactly the same no matter where one is, such as fast food joints, strip malls, and subdivisions.

17. OHNOSECOND: That minuscule fraction of time in which you realize that you’ve just made a BIG mistake. (Like after hitting send on an email by mistake).

18. WOOFS: Well-Off Older Folks.

19. CROP DUSTING: Surreptitiously passing gas while passing through a Cube Farm.

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I’m sitting here at Whole Foods, attempting to enjoy my minestrone soup, when all I keep hearing is the quiet conversation of a woman sitting on my right. She clearly has a sore throat and is quickly losing her voice. However, this isn’t stopping the woman from speaking in a nearly unbearable voice that is bugging the holy living shit out of me.

I want to believe her lack of a voice is not from a cold, but the direct result of sucking down three packs of Marlboro Reds every day for the past 40 years, chasing each savory puff with a swig of Jack. She definitely has the leathery, yellow skin to prove my theory.

Her raspy discourse is really getting on my nerves. And the woman lunching with her doesn’t seem to mind this paused form of conversation.

I want to turn to my right and shout: “We’re in a natural foods store for God’s sake! Save your voice and buy some organic cough drops! You are literally driving me mad!”

I just hope her germs don’t find their way to my table. The last thing I want is to lose my voice.

Actually, let me rephrase that. The last thing I want is for her to stay at the table next to me for the remainder of my lunch hour.

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A classic from The Onion about the vanilla-like quality of Omaha: “Omaha Man To Probably Stay In Omaha Another Year Or Two.”

{A special thanks to Tony, the Woodward to my Bernstein, for sending this my way.}