Speaking of donkey butts: more about me. I was born in the Year of the Cock (not a swear), a Chinese zodiacal sign which claims I am "blunt in the offering of opinions." It also says my best career choices are "the armed forces, banker, insurance agent or CPA" (cue the snorting), so I'm not sure how reliable that all is. At any rate, 2012, watch out for my opinionated, in-your-face rooster ass! I tell it like I see it. Chinese New Year, you make me want to say, "Wǒ de qìdiànchuán chōngmǎn le shànyú!" Yes, "My hovercraft is full of eels."
Still, I have 2 beautiful human children to mother--one of them a rabid dragonophile--and must carry on. Thus we have "enjoyed" a fair amount of Chinese New Year revelry in the past weeks. Hudson, Wisconsin's "Hot Air Affair" and Year of the Dragon Festival was one. Picture a nightime field of fire and a ice, lit with the magestic "moon glow" of hot air ballons, the air rife with the mouth-watering scent of such traditional Chinese delicacies as deep-fried cheese curds, scalding hot cocoa, jumbo pretzels, cinnamon-sugar Indian fry bread and steamy beer brats. Qǐng màn yòng!
Better yet, picture this: