Things started off this weekend quite heated. And not of the sexy kind. From Thursday night on there was some serious tension and I would like to take partial blame for dragging it out as long as I did. We benefited from cool down time as I took a solo trip down to Miami. Driving back on Saturday night, with my father at the wheel, we spotted the blazing sunset over the Everglades. Those unfamiliar with the geography - we head due west across the vast expanse of Alligator Ally - and I clicked away capturing the bolden sun as it dipped into the wetlands.
Someone asked and the new camera is a Panasonic, which will have better zoom so these kinds of shots will be even more vibrant. Though hopefully I will not have to make that trip again under those conditions.
On Sunday morning Magoo ran to the store to get breakfast pickings and proudly pulled out an 11 pound bag of cherries. I kid, but it seemed endless and we both realized quickly we would not be able to eat them all.
So while he fiddled around the house and did some awesome home improvement things, I searched for recipes and went back to the store for lunch, dinner, and cherry fixings. At this point it was one and apparently already unbearably hot outside. This was my first foray outdoors all day and the short distance from the house to car left me with sweat trickling down my face and forming at the small of my back. The only way I can describe it, again for those unfamiliar, is like taking a hot bath wearing a wool sweater. It is that uncomfortable, itchy, stifling and wrong. Already hot and bothered I stood in line at the deli counter - my least favorite activity in all the world. I swear my least and I will argue that to my death. Which I thought could come while standing there - from having to beat my head against the glass display as the service was just that horrific and the man/woman (unclear as to the gender as his/her hands were the size of the turkey breast) helping me was in fact not at all helpful. Why is it that this makes me so furious? Already overly annoyed I followed this up at checkout with the man who left his wallet in his car and when retrieved it found out that his credit card was declined. A short trip to the Publix for 17 items turned into an hour debacle. At least they had air conditioning.
Again the walk back to the car from the store with three grocery bags was mind numbingly stifling. Hello summer! Since I was already drenched in sweat, I agreed to walk Ginger and Tom and I got in some exercise. Every single time returning to the house, opening the air conditioned door, and screaming, "holy fuck nuts." We decided to do what seemed logical and most humorous. So myself, Magoo, and a bottle of Jack Daniels enjoyed the rest of the afternoon at the movies. We spent two hours Knocked Up and of course loved every minute of it - what is not to like about absolute humor, a spiked Diet Coke and 65 degree air conditioning?
Coming home slightly buzzed I made dinner, as promised, and tried to make a dent in our bowl full o' cherries. First up cherry salsa. This I made early so we could snack while I cooked and continued to drink and Magoo worked. It sounds wrong and odd (the salsa part- not the me drinking and Magoo working part - because that sounds just about right) but it was delicious and fresh. I forgot to buy the pepper at the store because after the deli counter incident I tried my best to get out of there. Tried being so key. So I used yellow and red onions to give it differing flavors. I also dislike cilantro so I added some red pepper flakes for spice. It worked wonderfully with some chips to dip in or, as the recipe suggests, would probably be good as a topping on a protein.
I then froze an ice mixture of vodka and cherries hoping to make a granita - as inspired by her. While it looks pretty - unfortunately it tasted only like water with mushed cherries - which is actually pretty disgusting. My portions were off. We sipped on the water as a cool refresher to the end of a hot hot weekend and dumped the rest down the drain. We still have cherries left - they appear here to stay along with the sweltering temps from this weekend. Though I hope it continues to remain calm and cool in my house - with plenty of "adult" beverages and good food. And the beautiful beautiful air conditioner.Labels: Everyday Life
Okay folks I have been cooking. Yeah, I know I told you all this already. But I cannot stop. Monday I can't quite count because there were these factors and a game of tennis with Ash. But I still managed quite a plate of sliced Fuji's, crusted baguette, fresh mozzarella, and thinly sliced prosciutto. Think Anne's late night anti-pasta with a kick. I pieced it together and picked at it while reading over y'alls work and contemplating large life issues like how to best leave work at 6 pm. You know the basics of any summer time discussion.
To continue on the theme - picking, summer, and light fare - I composed for myself and Magoo, her recipe - a melon-prosciutto salad. Some are smitten with her and I cannot deny them she is excellent and her photos are magic. But I have been taken recently with Ms. Molly's stories and gastronomic tales. So on Tuesday in an ode to her blog I also made her rhubarb dessert. Magoo spent time in Italy as a child and has quite fond memories of ricotta. So much so that last night he sprinkled sugar on it and ate it straight from the container with a spoon. Apparently all the cooking was for naught - I can just hand him a spoon. But the baked dessert was excellent - something so undessert like as it had a magnificent combination of flavors and a bittersweet taste perfect for those who can't handle chocolate-y desserts. I had it again on Wednesday, this time left over and cold, and you know it tasted almost better as the orange zest marinated into the root and the ricotta didn't quite melt, which I found preferable since Magoo is right that is one good cheese. Before the cold rhubarb dessert part two I sliced and diced green and red peppers picked up on a quick side stop to the local farmer's market. I added them into a black bean salad - something I have made a handful of times before always with excellent results. It is perfect over burgers, garden or otherwise, as a chip dip, or a salad topper. It is so fresh and tangy we just eat it up. Unfortunately last night I overestimated the amount of tang and was generous with the red pepper flakes. It was spicy - too spicy for that kind of dish. I threw it on a bed of lettuce, added sugar, and red wine vinegar to even out the hot, cut up another fresh baguette and drowned it all with a beer. Not a bad post work out meal considering my senses were worked out also. By the end I was tearing. To be honest I am a bit disappointed having failed ever so slightly. I am also disappointed that I do not have more evidence to show you of my culinary madhouse. But a new camera is en route to casa Anne so this should not be a problem ever again.
In my excited state over cooking I don't how I could initially forget to mention last night's Cook Off on Top Chef. Season One v. Season Two. We made our bets but Magoo fell asleep before I could cash in on my winnings. How could Season One not win? I was jumping out of my skin excited for all 60 minutes of the goodness. Bravo to Bravo for following through with a brilliant idea and thank you for letting us see Harold, Sam, and Dave again.
**The black bean salad is one I originally took from the Fresh Market website that they have since removed. Smitten Kitchen has a similar one- but I have just been playing it by ear - which failed me ever so slightly last night.
Labels: Everyday Life
A few weeks back Magoo treated himself to a Saturday full of errands which included a trip to the Generic Pet Store. For my life I cannot remember which location has Pet Smart and which has the Pet Savers. To me there is no difference because I cannot also remember which carries Ginger's food and which does not. And I inevitably chose wrong when it comes to that time. To me it is like the color of my toothbrush. I just don't know. There are details of my life that I can never for the life of me remember. Ever. I have a penchant for detail and can tell you that Donna Martin wore a black tube top with a white flower on the first day of school but never in my whole life will I know the color of my toothbrush or which pet store is in which location. So at Generic Strip Mall Pet Store, Magoo purchased a retractable leash for Ginger. He was all hyped up and gung-ho about this development of his progression as a pet owner. He had broached the subject with me a number of times and I dismissed it. We were a family of standard leashes. Quiet, easy, complacent leashes in lovely shades that match the collars. This retractable business was too much for me to consider so I pushed it aside much like his suggestions that I remove my shoes from the front door area. I hear it and I decide it does not jibe with the essence of me so I do nothing about it. Well when you put Magoo alone in Generic Pet Store and hand him a Visa he does what he can. Because lord knows that this tactic WILL WORK TO REMOVE MY SHOES. But I am just saying - I can be bribed. So he bought us the retractable leash and attached it to Ginger's collar and it has been a miserable struggle for me ever since that moment. He poked fun at me and my inability to multi-task while walking the dog. The bag, the bag filled with poop, the retraction mechanism, and quite often the cell phone and of course just plain walking - which often times is one of the biggest challenges. Well I cannot master all these things. And the leash gives me serious anxiety. I cannot control it properly, she is either choking on it or roaming freely through my neighbors bedroom it is just that long. I can never get the mechanism to catch and in seconds she is 199 feet ahead of me eating yesterday's garbage. It is just a mess.
This evening I took her out for her nightly constitutional and at the same time was on the phone with Magoo. This I blame on him. Being in Philadelphia means that I HAVE TO talk on the phone to him while walking the dog. She inevitably made her way around and around a tree while he and I are discussing whether Philadelphia really is dirty and how he could get lost and wind up in New Jersey. I managed to notice that she had some how made two circles around the tree as the leash has that much slack. With my semi-free hand I "unwrapped" her leash trying to undo her circles but only created another one and somehow also a knot. And at this point she still had enough leash to wander aimlessly through the neighbors yard. I say shit very loudly - as now there was a beagle tied to my neighbors tree. I urgently hung up with Magoo, or really just cursed a lot and dropped my phone on the concrete, and again try to reign her in. No luck - there are now two knots. She was gently pulling and trying her best to get into the flower beds. So I do what only seems rational - I sit down on the sidewalk and try to undo the circles and knots to make sure she does no more damage. This must have looked totally normal - who wouldn't feel safe seeing a girl in running shorts sitting on the sidewalk outside their home at 10:30 on a Thursday night? I recognize this and make another well planned move - I take off Ginger's leash. She sees this as any poorly trained dog would - as freedom and she starts to run. I run too, which is not something I do ever or well and especially not in flip-flops. Luckily she sees home as a good destination and I whole heartily agree. I opened the door, grabbed the spare leash, strapped her in, and headed back to the tree. I am getting girlfriend points here, right? I seriously contemplated letting the leash stay there and walking her in the complete opposite direction pretending this NEVER HAPPENED. But, 1) how do I explain to Magoo that his prized leash is tied in knots to a neighbors tree; and 2) what would the neighbors think? So we proceeded back to the tree to untie the knots. This was a smidge easier as there was not a stubborn dog attached to one end pulling on it. But it was still abhorrently difficult as it was night and there are about 73 knots. There was also a friendly neighbor type watching. "How'd ya get so many knots in there?" Now that is the kind of support I am looking for - right to the point and annoying. I ignore him and slowly and mechanically undo every single knot thinking that Magoo better appreciate me rescuing his leash. Because I know that I am NEVER using the damned thing again. We walked the rest of the block with the spare leash all blissful and normal like old times. No thinking involved and the Beagle kept at a normal distance. And when I got home I left my shoes at the front door. That's just how I am.
Labels: Everyday Life, Mr. Magoo
I think it could have literally been the weather - the storm made me do it. I woke up on Saturday morning with a domestic urge. I wanted to bake. While the music was pumping and the eggs were frying, I arranged a chocolate chip walnut banana bread. It smelled wonderful and came out of the oven just as the rain ended. While the four inches of water was perfect for our parched lawns, the bread was not. There were no eggs in the bread, though the ones served at breakfast were divine, the banana bread was a low fat recipe and tasted just like that. A touch of jam gave it back it's sweetness but that's about it.
Come Sunday and a brand new Van Morrison CD I heated up the kitchen again. Three hours later Magoo and I turned out a pretty rocking meal and invited the girls over to sample and witness Sarah Silverman in all her raunchy glory. The food was good and her jokes were over the top. I peeled all the recipes off the Food Network website - adapting some to our needs including using none of the fat that Paula suggests. Wow that woman loves butter. We dabbled in mixing our own ideas into the pre-cut recipes and tried our hardest to remember what kind of modifications we made and what a 1/2 of a 1/4 is.
- At dinner on Saturday night we ordered a cucumber salad that was just perfect - light and savory. Inspired, I picked out this recipe from Wolfgang Puck - with more of an Asian flavor it was still delightful. We munched on it while we waited for Ashley to bring over the wine. I probably could've made that my meal.
- We also had a bunch of organic asparagus that needed to be used up and Magoo was itching to try out the new grill - even offering to grill our cereal. I declined the grilled Cherri-o's offer and instead picked out a grilled asparagus recipe from the man who runs the grilling world - Bobby Flay. It turned out wonderful - crisp, clean and spring-y with slightly melted fresh mozzarella giving it a little substance. Even served cold it worked well as an elegant side.
- A few months back while laid up from gum surgery I tortured myself by watching hours of cooking shows. I couldn't eat so I figured the second best thing was to look at all the good food. Paula made this salad that looked absolutely ridiculous and the crunch of the Ramen noodles enticed me since at that point the most I was crunching was tomato soup. I finally had the chance and desire to sample the recipe. It really was good - the broccoli and dressing were cheerful and simple. You gotta cut out the butter, oil, and sugar - there is no need for them and honestly it is more flavorful if you sub in some garlic and other seasonings. But still a great accompaniment to a dinner or served by itself as a lunch.
- Finally the reason the dinner existed in the first place was the grilled chicken. I told Magoo he was in charge of le chicken but he still insisted I pick out a recipe. We also wanted softer refreshing flavors to go with the excessive heat of the day. While the coriander turned out to be a bold taste the lime evened it out and gave the chicken a tasteful kick. Plus we got to use the limes picked from the tree in our yard. This made us ridiculously giddy and gave us a sense of home grown pride. The recipe called for chicken legs but we made out just fine with fillets - if I must say.
Plus now Magoo feels he sufficiently broke in the grill - so we decided next up are pizzas. Yeah I saw it on the Food Network this weekend, okay you figured me out. The next time a storm approaches or I just feel like standing in the kitchen for hours and having good friends, great food, and perfect music - we will fire it up. All in all I would say it was well played and enjoyed - you can see some of the results here.
**Does anyone know how to get Blogger to cooperate when using bullet points? They are driving me to stick a bullet point into my eye...
Labels: Everyday Life, Friends/Family
Bad:
- My back - I hurt it playing in the ocean this weekend. I think I pulled a muscle near my sciatica. I am old. Old. Old.
- Our stomachs - After Thai food at a place that had a roach in the restroom. That should've been my first clue. Or the Ramen noodles they tried to pass off as Pad Ba-Mee. These are signs of bad bad things to come.
- Being here - Back at work after a holiday way weekend is horrendous. The kind of thing that makes our stomach problems seem minor. Can't they ease us into these sorts of things?
- Ginger's paw - She sprained it while running around the house post-bath. Now she limps.
- My nose - I somersaulted in the pool scraping my nose on the bottom.
Good:
- My weekend - totally rocked. We put the windows down and screamed our lungs out to Genesis. We drank Miller Lights for hours, Ginger had one too, and made up answers to Scattergories. Giraffes so live on farms. Hello? Giraffe farms. We had beer relays in the pool and played poor poor games of football in the ocean. There was flip cup, the new indoor grill (thanks Mike), and four Malbecs at Mad Dogs. We had some old fashioned fun. The background to all those stories, even the bad, was the highlight of three blissful peaceful well played relaxing drink induced summer days. Just look at the background of the picture. We had gorgeous weather, a cool breeze, the beat of the sun, the laughter of friends and a sensation of love and freedom. I thought on more than one occasion that this was dream like. I loved that this was my life. The pictures tell only a bit of where we were and what we were doing...but they are pretty spectacular too.
Labels: Everyday Life
After tonight I want to run out and re-watch A Chorus Line. I had a ton of fun at the pops with Marvin Hamlish the composer of that music and other hits. Including the film version of The Way They Were, who does not just love that movie? And I really hate crying over movies when you are supposed to cry, because I cry enough when you are not supposed to and I cry enough in life. But that movie just makes sense because you knew she had to chase him over to LA and do her own thing but also that they were never going to make. The reality of that makes me cry because it is so simple and yet so true. When you think about it though it is the music that sets the tone for the movie and the emotion comes from the whole package, how well it all played together. What was so moving about tonight was how amazingly perfectly in line the symphony moved together. I cannot get over how they actually made the music. Tiny little violins making that much noise. Working as a machine but also as perfect individual units. Each with a task, often the same task, but also each a necessary element of the whole. Some with solos and others who were clear leaders but who actually spent most of the time working together as a team, blending in with the others. All as one. Really powerful and beautiful. I was so enticed and enamored by them. It was hooot seeing people in charge of these instruments, making melodies, and working to create a larger symphony. I get at thing, an itchy tingly thing, when people can move so well together and enjoy passions in the same form. It is quite emotional. It could've brought me to tears.
It was hot later on in the weekend as we sat outside enjoying the sun and the music. I swore this to Magoo in drunken whispers, that acoustic guitar players are hot. He can bang on those drums, so why not the guitar? Hot in the same way the symphony was - they master making sweet tunes, as he calls it, coming out of those powerful instruments. Memorable moving music. But really they do. A human able to exert that special talent and make brilliant notes is hot. Coming home after enjoying the tunes of the bar band, a bucket of beers and an afternoon by the water, to find your man listening to music full blast and cooking. Okay that is HOT. It was just so perfect. The smell of fresh sauce and the sounds of tunes from the TV - is the penultimate combination. Talk about working together. It is your way to connect and move together. Making music of your own and tantalizing pasta too. It is not just about the music, but about what those songs remind me of, how I can know every word even if I'm getting them wrong and feel absolutely great. Because that is what I do. Dancing in the kitchen in bare feet - a slight sunburn and the remainders of a beer buzz. Totally what summer is going to be about not just this one but the ones of the past and the ones you can only dream about. Summers are always so dream like, maybe it is the extreme heat and long drawn out days. It creates a moment in time to remember back to that song, that sound, the scent and all the memories. Suntan lotion, bug spray, sweat, salt and tired, that too much time in the sun and the pool kind of tired. The way A Chorus Line conjures recollections of younger days prancing around in socks and reminders of what is fun about music of all kinds - the singing along factor. In line together with older memories, making news ones connected to your friends, mixing voices together in ideas and poor poor harmonies. That is what I did at the symphony, in quiet tones under my breath, and at the bar louder and in my key, my drunken key. That's how the power of music gives into the passion and emotion, to sing and dance along to provide an afternoon and evening of entertainment, to make and bake memories and consummate relationships. Driving to work today even Ray created a not too distant memory, just the notes gave the ability to time travel and feel the warmth and goodness of that moment in December. The music makes the memory and creates a time that you cannot remember them as separate. Those songs will always go together with that image. The way the sounds coming from the TV had me dancing into the kitchen. The Moody Blues remind me of my parents, my mom humming along in her own kitchen, those kind of childhood themed memories. That song created a moment that was comforting, that made me aware of a home and what a house is all about, a connection to the past and present and who does not think that is hot?
This weekend will promise to be hot too - temps reading in the high 90's. It is the start of summer and here that means six months of blinding heat. We are going to the beach and celebrating Memorial Day the way Americans do- making it hot, steamy and with good tunes - or really bad ones if you are me. In a bad music square off I will be the winner. But that is what the summer is all about. See the rest of the Sunday pictures on flickr.
Labels: Everyday Life, P.S./Photography Sunday
Meeting new people and spending time making new friends introduces you to their stories and ideas. You learn their mannerisms, ways they tell a story, eating preferences, and quirks about cleanliness and godliness. They have their experiences and passions and inside tips on housekeeping help. Which was crazy perfect timing on that front because just that morning Magoo told me that I needed to try to find one for us and there at lunch was one offered up. Also offered was crack. Well I didn't know it was crack at the time but it turns out it is a white substance that I would become addicted to. What is all sorts of wonderful is that it is here in Tampa and it is super accessible to me, for a few small bucks. Here it's called cali yogurt but elsewhere it is Pinkberry. Not exactly illicit but ooohhhh boy am I addicted. My crackberry. I have been three times in three days - since learning about its goodness from the other girls. Oh god it is a great combination of fresh, smooth, tart and just plain yum. I dragged Magoo there after tennis and sushi and asked him what makes it so good and he responded brilliantly that it was the yumminess. Deep in the crevice of the white paper bowels buried beneath the almond slivers, my topping of choice, was that exact ingredient. He was so very right and unfortunately as addicted as I. New friends have great ideas to share - even if they are crack filled.
Labels: Everyday Life, Friends/Family
Not that long ago I would just write and post here whenever I damn pleased. Those were the days, not all that far off ago, when no one was reading. Then I got readers and commenters, who I love! love! love! and would never trade in. But I sort of stopped doing that and I sort of got onto a one post per day type track and they all get wrapped up in a neat little package and have themes and stuff. Which again, I love, but I want to remind myself that this was started for me. To keep my thoughts, ideas, memories and whatever else I want. And that maybe boring or I guess it could be totally interesting in that voyeuristic type way - I know that is a huge part of what makes this whole phenomenon successful. But that is what I have to remind myself of which again is what I am doing out loud here.
This weekend I have so little to do that I actually have a lot because I want to fill in all the spaces with things. Mostly errands but also house type stuff that just needs to get done or I will blow my ear off with a 12 gauge if it does not. I just can't stand having things sitting around. Which is totally not true - I can stand it until the point when I JUST CANNOT HANDLE IT ANYMORE. Then it becomes something I have to do. Tonight I have a date with my mother to the symphony which I am actually looking forward to. Tomorrow morning I am taking a photography class, a part of a birthday present from Magoo, which begins super early at like 9 or something. So it is totally cool to have an evening at the pops with the mom. Plus I am trying hard to detoxify even if it is just for a few days because last week I drank straight through from Tuesday to Sunday and I wanted to burst. So if I make through to Saturday with no liquids I will consider it a success. After the class, which I am SO excited about, I wanted to drop off our dry cleaning, pick up one last frame at Pottery Barn, drop off two pairs of shoes at the cobblers (I giggle at that term it is just so adorable), and to return items to Target to exchange them for a full length mirror. I am tired of standing on a chair to assess my outfit, the condo had these really big mirrors so I have not owned a free standing one in years, but I need one again. Need. I will likely also need to get some of that cali yogurt again, or three times, but more about my new crack at a later time. If time I also want to get some shopping in - you know just the straight up mall kind of shopping. Again about those needs. I say if I have time because I have a burning sensation to sit on my couch, with a cold drink, and watch the Preakness. Don't ask, I am on this horse racing kick and just want to watch the damned race. That is before Magoo and I have to get showered and dressed for a birthday dinner. Sunday we will likely pick up around the house, clean, and hang pictures. I also want to push him for some outdoor time - either tennis or a fine meal or even both if we are so inclined. Here that babe? And if not I am totally okay just making it to Publix because it has been about a half a century since our butts have seen the inside of a grocery. A healthily stocked fridge makes a happy girl. Oh maybe I can finally get around to that lasagna. The possibilities of a quite empty weekend are really quite filling.
So the comments are off because this one is just for my thoughts and ideas. Plus what is there to comment on? That I don't need to go to the dry cleaners? Or that you love the symphony also? Don't think that is necessary. Instead go about enjoying your weekends.
Labels: Everyday Life
You know you live in Florida when driving on 75 you are stuck behind a truck filled with oranges and over to your left, in that lane, is a person doing 40 with their left blinker on. That is so Florida.
You also know you live in Florida when you get to be at the beach by 9 am on a Sunday. Magoo and I always said we were going to go but would then find something else to do. The trick really is just to get up and go - not stopping to do anything else. This is also important because by the time we left at noon the place was packed. Lines to get in, lines to park and lines to find a comfy spot in the sand. Oh and of course you know you live in Florida when it is also 97 degrees at noon. Yet another reason to beach it early early on.
We had a great time napping, reading, drinking our smuggled Jack 'n Cokes and walking the shore. I say smuggled because I am not so sure drinking out in the open on the beach is all that legal. Of course we say we are going to do it again and I think we must. But we also agreed that we are going to buy some beach chairs and even a cooler. You know do it all right and stuff that way you really know you live in Florida.
Labels: Everyday Life
Alright folks I cried during a sitcom. How I Met Your Mother got to me because I hate break ups and I hate watching breakups. Sure that was an easy statement to make because who doesn't, but whatever. I've really always felt a strong sense of ties to this show but I think that it is just because it is well done and that is the point. Any good writing should draw you in like that. So I cried - even though I knew it was coming because she is the aunt and there is no way they could be together. But still it is just so sad to see people move on and apart especially when the love is there. I mean couldn't you just see the love they shared? I know it made me think about love, and passion, and friendship and god damned breakups.
Okay, so yes, I totally have a problem with separating reality from the TV. I know I do. This is why I don't watch horror movies because I know that a crazy man with an axe for a hand will come torture me in the middle of the night on a Tuesday. I know this because it was on TV. Despite my penchant for the dramatic and my fear of anything remotely scary, those Terminix commercials where the walls talk totally FREAK me out, I do manage to squeeze in Lost. Though I admit it is done a lot of times with my eyes squeezed shut. Well, because, I can't take the death, the pain, the torture, the fear, the anxiety, the not knowing or the blood and broken bones. So, yeah, most of that show is out as well. But gimme those five seconds in between and damn I love that show. And talk about loving shows and love and breaking up and all things great on TV, and we get the Bachelor. Here though I seem to understand that it is not real. Though I disagree with Magoo and think that they are in it for real and they seem to think in the moment it is real. But that in the reality of real there is no way you can form a relationship like that except that you are forced to and you have set your mind to doing so. Therefore, the girls really do think they are falling in love. Because they said they loved him 49 seconds after meeting him. But once they step off the magic island that is ABC they realize this shit 'aint going to fly and that is not love but a game that they played really damn well. Still though I gotta watch it and stayed up late for it last night even though I went home early from school because I was not feeling well. You are never not well enough though to watch, and participate if you are me, in some really really good TV. And really you get a whole post on TV because I spent some quality time watching it both on screen and on my computer, which was really cool because I could lie in bed, so it is ingrained in my brain right now.
Though speaking of TV and ABC - those in the Tampa area can catch the ladies on the 5 o'clock news tomorrow. No not those ladies - but the dogs, Ginger and Soph, should be featured at some point. Because in this situation I was actually living through the TV. Now that was reality.
Labels: Everyday Life
I think it was Wednesdays in elementary school. The day when things were allowed to be backwards, your clothes, your words, and the early exit. The Dade County School Board gave us half days on Wednesday. Those were the days before it was Miami-Dade and before there was such a hullabaloo about leaving children behind, I suppose. So we made them Wacky Wednesday's and things were designated to be opposites. So today can be opposite day because couldn't the opposite of Wednesday be Thursday? If days had opposites?
Today feels all backwards and I keep having that thought. We went to a restaurant closing celebration last night. Which is fine because you should celebrate the good and appreciate what was there. But really don't you usually only have parties when restaurants open? It seemed anti-climatic. Come, enjoy our food and wine. It's great I swear. But you can never have any again. Ever. 'Cuz we are closing. Ha!
There is this hurricane named Arlene, I think that is her name. No shortage of news coverage on this morning's Today show, but I still cannot remember her name. But really she is going to make some rain and wind. Yet there are these wild fires which have made it super smokey and grey here. How can there be a storm and wild fires? Why isn't the rain putting them out? It's like mother nature is taking part in opposite day too. Where water no longer extinguishes fires and lets us suffer through both at the same time with no relief of either.
I have been having these big nights. Like where I go out and eat a bunch of food and drink tons and tons of wine and it is on school nights. Which is totally opposite because those are weekend things to do and we run up weekend type bills. But I have a feeling that this past weekend's nothingness and this coming weekends similar theme will mean that the weekend will feel more like a Monday. Which is all sorts of backwards and makes me really really tired. Because I was standing backwards in the mirror and looked at my ass and saw things that should not exist anywhere on anyone. So I have also been getting up early to use the treadmill. Which really is backwards for me because usually I sleep until the last minute and I don't generally cut into that for anything including exercise. But I cannot stand to see the back end again look like that and I don't think any amount of opposite is going to make cellulite a good thing. But it also means I am super exhausted from my backwards world and all things opposite. Maybe though I convince my body of the opposite and convince it to be awake, alive, and alert.
Labels: Everyday Life
Saturday was magically wonderful as I flitted about on my own. I turned down an invite to the Dragon boat races. A good call because then I go to do my own personal great things and I heard they weren't that special. See how things were truly wonderful, I made the absolute right call. I knew I needed an oil change and I had earned myself a free car wash, but I also knew that would take a helluva long time, so I knew I would put that off. Instead I shopped and bought all sorts of wonderfully cute things for our new amazing home. The use of excessive adjectives and superlatives is absolutely necessary because I felt all wonderful the whole time. The sun was shining and I had money in the account and lots of time to spend it.
I super duper loved that in the midst of a decision over the purchase of either a red/orange or a blue/green combo new lacy underwear I got a ding from the Samsung that I have new mail. Oh boy do I love new mail and I really really love that my cell phone chimes from my bag telling me I have new mail. But really what I really truly from the bottom of my little heart love, is that it was from Pammy V. And she had these ridiculous stories about all the doctor men who love her and how she has all these dates and she cannot remember which one she told what to about her wonderful life. And how she only feels only okay about them but they just keep calling her like 10 minutes after the date is over. God I love that because she is the best catch ever and the men should be throwing themselves at her. Mmmah I can just kiss her. And then next my phone tells me that I have a new comment from Bre. And I swear I cannot remember the comment for the life of me, but it made me smile super big and laugh. Right there in Anthropologie. And comment to myself, because I don't care what I look like in public, that I am so insanely happy.
I took my happy self to get a smoothie because it was damned hot out and I was hungry and thirsty and getting tired. I figured liquid fruit infused with energy would tide me over but I couldn't be too full as I had a date with my man planned. Wines and cheeses and gooey appetizers at Mise En Place. I could not go ruining that goodness. And the first sip of the tangy sweet lemoney yumminess made me smile again and declare out loud how great this was. This time I know I said it out loud in the parking lot of the strip mall. Because who cares what the people outside Welcome to Moes! think? They drive minivans and eat cheesy Mexican, they should be happy like I am too.
Finally I tooted my ass and my beat up Honda over to the car wash. Which of course takes like an hour because all the people with Benzs and Hummers have to have their cars all shiny and pretty and demand perfection out of the beat up old rags and the underpaid dryers. Including the bitch with back fat who was standing over the man instructing him on cleaning her dirty dirty trunk. It totally had potted plants in it - of course it was dirty. But I didn't really care because they have a bench outside where I can get some sun and read my book. It was super glorious. It really was one of those perfect days where absolutely nothing happened and would totally make a really boring story except for the fact that it was truly truly wonderful and I was beyond blissfully happy.
Labels: Everyday Life
Craptastic is a state of mind and mine is there. It also is probably a series of events that led me to this state of mind. But craptasticly fantastic it is. It is fucking Friday and I am freaking tired. Talk about freaky Friday. Four hours of sleep left me feeling like I had been sucker punched in the face. That feeling usually reserved for too many whatevers. But I had two Miller lights, not enough to leave me feeling hung over. Falling asleep to tears and Magoo rubbing my back are not ideal. Some booty in there would have made it better but I would still be tired as balls. I am not sure it was all worth it either. Did I say what I needed to? Was it heard? Why start something I couldn't finish? When I finally pulled the covers off my face and used my hand to lift my head, I find the cable has gone on the fritz. The box read all sorts of numbers that made me wonder if The Others are effing with us. Too much TV perhaps, but still what the H is going on? Well maybe my overdose is cured, as the TV is out until sometime tomorrow. Brighthouse is super courteous and gave us a very usable window of 8 to 8. Nice. Thanks assholes. Meanwhile I hear Ginger rolling around and digging for gold under the couch. Turns out she was the lucky winner of a new ant trap that Magoo laid down. Yeah so my dog was carrying poison between her paws and in her jaws. I am sure that is going to make for a good experience later on in the day. Assuming she makes it that far. I am too tired to worry and too tired to care. Really I was too tired to fight about it, but I managed to get something out. Which is a ton more than I can say for my productivity today. The effort I did exert was just erased by the devil who runs my computer. The impish evil man erased my hard earned billables. Is dizziness a normal reaction to all this? Did I mention craptastic? Happy Freaky Fucking Friday.
Happy Friday to me. Three tall pours of a Malbec and I am back to feeling fantastic. Screw the craptastic. A Friday afternoon nap left me with this euphoria. I swear the last time I napped it on a Friday afternoon could've been college. Who settles in for the evening at 7? If that is the case, hold out, drink a few, and tuck yourself in at nine. But no, tonight I said I was going to be there and I was. Anyone else get nap stomach. The horrific gross nausea in your stomach after a wrong time of the day sleep? So that by 10, when it passed, I was ravenous. I slept through dinner and pushed thru the nausea to find myself knee deep in a pecan crusted brie and pulled pork pizza. I know I ate it and I know it was damn good. That place is my favoritest and I can sit for hours pouring over menu items and big tall pours. Oh and the bar tender with the accent and the magic tricks. Yeah you gotta see him. It is totally my favorite. As I told Magoo on the car ride home, I inhaled it all and cannot remember the tastes of the food. I know other things from the night and I know for certain, based on a quick spell check, that I am drunk as hell. Lets leave it at that. Happy Freaking Friday.
Labels: Everyday Life
To celebrate the new house and my 28th year we threw a party. Since not much had been done to the house we figured it was fine to invite over fifty of our closest. We also thought a theme, a keg, and a flip cup table were a good idea. Party goers must dress WASPY - if you don't know what this mean I am not sure where you have been living, but feel free to ask. We felt to counteract this image, of something we are not, there would be beer, pizza, and chips. We called it low brow - because it was just that. We had bagel bites and corn dogs and we served it out of plastic containers. Enough said. I cringed at times laying down money for tacky pink dishes, but it was good fun in the end. What we didn't plan, but was fitting for the occasion, was the green keg beer we purchased. It must've been left over from St. Patty's the month before. It mattered not as we all drank it out of Dixie cups anyway and played many a round of flip cup with it. Maybe we drank too much or maybe this was the point of entertaining, but my pictures stop at the start of the night. I found no time to take shots of our actual guests and the revelry that littered our house for four hours. Or even a picture of the green beer. Oh well you can imagine what a bunch of WASPs with green beer, greasy food, pearl necklaces, top siders and plaid did on a Saturday night in April.
Labels: Everyday Life
The blogger as a journalists bits are going around - where you have someone else ask you five questions and you respond honestly. Well I am not going to ask someone to generate five questions for me. That is because I am going to ask you all to do it. And because I drank too much wine and my head hurts. Though it does not have to be five - the number is up to you. So anything you want. Ask away and I will answer. You can e-mail me privately or post it in the comments. I am going to leave the post open and off to the side afterwards as well - knowing that the option is always available. But also know that if you ask a stupid question.....well you know the rest.
Labels: Everyday Life
This will be streaming consciousness of a total collection of ideas and thoughts over the past 72 hours or so. With Passover hours from now I will give you a pass through of a weekend that whirled by but felt like an eon ago. Where was Friday? I swear it was seven months ago - at least it feels that way sitting here back at the desk mid-Monday. I was able to bolt early on Friday afternoon owing to the move. But I didn't do any moving - I sat in traffic heading Northwest on the mish mash of Veterans, Memorial and 60. Who does that? I felt like a suburbanite sitting there on an early Friday afternoon. Trying my best to get home. But I don't live there and it is ironic that sitting in traffic heading away from my new home made me feel suburbany. I stand by my conviction that we live in the city. Still. I was headed to a condo too - old friends, old co-workers. It was warm and comforting and an hour spent catching up before I had to turn around and change. This time drinks and dinner with Tom's old friends. First we did a tour of the homes. Seems like there is a lot of movement these days. I am more than thrilled with ours and think we are the winners. Though I could be biased.
At dinner with mixed company I become paranoid and self conscious. Why do I need a stranger's approval? Why do I want him to relay that Tom has a girl and she is cute? Why do I need that validation? In a few short hours, far too few if we are counting, we are moving up and out. Into our home. While it has been us this is a move, really it is one. What about this does not translate into security? Or insecurity? As I watch him move and sing and grow careless with strangers. Who is this? And who am I that jealousy can take over so easily? I am not ashamed of jealousy - I think it is a natural human emotion. It helps ideas to register and become a barometer. I just think it needs to be checked. So where did mine come from? As I lay on the carpet that night in tears I had no answers. I can blame wine, whine, and sleep deprivation. But I won't. Despite the airs of confidences, I am just as insecure and crazy as the next one. It comes in waves and never truly leaves you. I felt much more insecure in my life and have had some reasons to. There are residuals of that. Plus the generals we all deal with as women, weight, hair, food in our teeth and boogers in our noses and as people who intereact. The truth is it never goes away - you just have to learn to manage, control, and gain perspective from it. And sometimes admit you are wrong.
Saturday came too early at 6 am we were up waiting for movers who did not show until 10. But we were moved by noon. Which still meant we had HOURS to go of unpacking and shopping. A little Bed, Bath and Beyond, if we had time. And we did. At least we made time as we trekked up and down Dale Mabry spending more money. But we needed sheets for our bigger bed. We needed to insure they were on there as we knew we would crash. Long hours, long day and the GATORS. We also knew we needed to be showered and out of the house by 7 to get parking and navigate the crowds. Cherrys or Hawks or whatever you call the largest gathering of Gators outside of Gainesville is packed. Somehow we managed to VIP it up the stairs with a handful of others. Forgetting that stair climbing, no underwear and a dress are a bad idea but not really caring as my clothes were packed. Our own bathroom with a screen across from the porcelain. Who knows. But I would not have survived the crowds or the cheering. I can handle Magoo's claps but that was about it. Until the end and the chorus of "It's Great's..." as we exited with two minutes to go and an assurance that the Gators will be repeating. We got home to a scared and tired Ginger. She is having difficulty adjusting - she may be more moody than I. It figures.
I spent Sunday alone. I pushed, pulled, unpacked and cleaned - my feet mostly and the constant dirt kept them in a constant Britney Spears state. We got cable and internet - wireless throughout. I know what heaven may be now. The cable guy could not stop gushing about how much he enjoyed our digs. I would have been creeped out - but something was charming and sweet. So I reveled in it and agreed. So did Magoo when he came from work (yeah on a Sunday you don't have to tell us that it sucks). We do love it. Something about a new place makes you want to do new things, start new traditions. So I decided a bath was the way to go. Trying hard to push aside my bathing fears I sat for about 20 minutes. Until it grossed me out. And really until the glass of wine was done. Feeling loopy and relaxed my tired body sat with a towel, our new cable and wireless and unwound.
Labels: Everyday Life
If you want a cure for the whines and non-wintery blues an easy solution is to drown yourself. I have done it successfully over the past two months and have not been able to hold me head above water long enough to catch my breath. I have been a crazed soul. I swore I was feeling blah and then turned around sixty days later and could no longer remember the passing days of February and March. Blah turned into a whirl. I can’t say a breeze because that implies ease and something like porches and ice tea. There was none of that. There was chaos, depression and anxiety. There was stress, happiness and excitement. There was anger, frustration and exhaustion. Pick an emotion and I had it. We bought a house. Which makes two. A house and condo. So now we carry two mortgages and I consider myself a land lord. Well hopefully one as we try desperately to rent it out. Which is stressful, and annoying and entertaining, with more stories to come. But something I have complete faith in. Until I am proven wrong. But lets just assume that won't happen here. Will ya?
I have to hope to god that I make a good landlord, in that not a thing goes wrong and I silently cash those checks every month. Please please please let that be the case. Because in the two years I have lived there, I have not had as much as a toilet over flow, and I know how to over flow a toilet. I count not the leak, because that was external. So let us continue on this wonderfully perfect home ownership streak. At least so long as a nice unassuming renter squats there.
Well this also means we moved. In one month's time. We packed up and moved. Organizing and arranging such was for lack of a better word, awesome. In the way the bible describes awesome, like awe inspiring. Or really really crappy. You take your pick. I am not going to bore you with brown boxes, packing tap, and sweaty men, who are set to arrive this weekend. No not those kind of sweaty mean either. But this takes time and effort and infinite patience. None of which I actually own or come close to possessing on a good day. So I become Glinda the not so friendly totally evil maniacal I hate you so very much bitch. Which is exactly what Magoo wants when he is making big purchases and deciding things, like moving places with people. I mean who does not want to live with such a princess? Which again made our whole world a wonderfully peaceful candy cane filled joy.
I got a new job. Yeah because changing addresses and zip codes was not enough for us all. That in between all this I was on a mad pace to interview in any law firm that showed me some leg or cleavage. Because I was a whore. And I would’ve accepted any one of these jobs even if they paid me $9.73 per hour and asked me to pay for my computer usage time, which you know is a lot. Because I needed to get the HELL OUT OF DODGE. That was a burning building and I was not going to be taken down with it. Not when I was made to feel so incompetent for too long. Not worth it. Not worth it at all. I knew it and had known for a long long time. But the gun was loaded so I was at point blank. It just so happened to be when I bought a house and moved. Yeah so timing is not everything. But it sure feels good to be leaving this address. The new one is scary and anxiery filled, again more about that later, but rest assured it was the right and proper decision.
Lets also throw in the dentist. Whom I love. Or love to hate. Every ounce of my being is consumed with anxiety over my visits. And there were plenty of visits leaving my wallet infinitely lighter, so there was plenty of anxiety. Plus a solid near week of no food or conversation, following the gum surgery. While not anxiety per se it was stressful and tiring none the less, as eating and talking are pretty much by existence. Which was impressive during these days when my anxiety was devoted to prepping and waiting for potential employers to call me back and tell me they love me. Or in reality, not. Since I went on 76 interviews before I found the one. And when all my remaining energy has actually been spent renewing insurance policies, paying taxes, finding a renter, packing clothes and ordering movers. So that does not leave a lot of spare time to fully loathe the dentist in the proper way that he deserves. But I did. I managed to squeeze it in while cursing under my breath how much I despise moving and what a *(!#*($U@# my boss is. Not that I don’t curse, but the use of the expletive is necessary as words can’t adequately describe my emotions. Which is impressive as I am expressive as well. It is just that bad. Take my word. Like I said, not too terribly sad to say good bye.
That’s all. Not really. But that is all I have time to think about and detail. We all know that is not all there is in life. There are vet appointments, and manicures, there is time to exercise and go to the grocery store. Birthday parties. Anniversaries. Yoga, tennis games, manicures and dog walking. Friendships. Families. Phone calls. Oil changes. E-mails. Paying your bills. Making dinner, sex and sleep. There is life. So that is not all, it is just the tip of the ice berg and the major giant sized glaciers that were ramming themselves into my life making me realize that I had no such animal as winter blues. And making me recognize that this is truly what life is. Especially because it is now spring and I look forward to the renewal and new life. It means wonderful pastel colors, flowers, and sunshine. The weather is perfect here and there is so much good to look forward to. So much to dig and plant. We will grow in this new house and I will thrive at my new job. I would disgust you with the story of my new gums. But know that there is growth there as well. It is the time for renewal and changes. Every one of them will be good and positive. It is time to stick your toes in the grass, dream, and marvel at what life gives you. It is time for porches and ice tea. Finally. Mine will have bourbon, because you know me and that's what I do. Because some things never change, no matter the zip code. But please just bear with me as I may not be around as much - anxiety, moving, and bourbon will do that to you.
Labels: Breathing, Everyday Life
I lived next door to Fidel Castro. In Miami in the 1990’s. I know the neighborhood can attest to this truism. At the house two doors down, the only non-ranch style house. It appeared to have two stories and the the purple Mustang in the drive. I suppose there is no accounting for taste. Especially in a house where a Cuban dictator lived. Who wouldn’t have thought that a bearded man wasn’t Castro? Not when we roamed the streets in army greens. My sister and I swear we saw a cigar, Cuban no doubt, hanging from his mouth and peaking out from the grey beard. In those days too, Castro’s prominence was questionable. The media never showed him and there had been rumors that he died. Well, we knew the truth, he was alive and talking leisurely strolls down 70th Avenue. Residing amongst millions of Cubans exiles and lapping in the sun of South Miami.
In Tampa we moved to the golf course neighborhood. New to us, but there were old school Southerners. Rambling homes with oak trees, brick streets, and Muffys. One next to us who spent her days at the Yacht club, drinking beverages with tonic and lunching. Or we would presume. Possibly mostly the beverages. As her husband later went bankrupt – which would drive me to drink. To welcome us to the neighborhood she “made” a peach cobbler. People like her make things by paying for them. She daintily crossed the lawn careful not to ruin her silk heels or trip over her alcohol. She warmly knocked and welcomed us. A kind gesture no doubt. But for the chunk of cobbler missing from the dessert. “Oh, my husband was hungry so I gave it to him.” Welcome to the neighborhood.
In a few days I get new neighbors. As we are set to move into a house in a new area of town. Yeah we are moving. (!) Out of the condo and into more space, where we don't need a storage unit and we have grass and a kitchen. We will have tables and not just one but a dining room one too. This means no more eating on the couch and and it means room to spread out and cook and relax. It also means I get to meet a new breed of people. To me they are like co-workers. You have no idea where they come from and they are bizarre and strange with some questionable fashion sense. Yet they are there daily and you spend significant amount of time with and near them. Some how they also become the fabric of your life. Weaving in and out and sharing their witticisms with you - often without a choice. You standing there awkwardly waiting to exit the conversation and be polite. They do make for good storytelling and insane frustration, but hopefully in this instance some good friends too. We all dream of those blocks with parties, friends, and wonderful street life. Or at least a lack of drama. Let’s just hope Castro and Muffy stay where they are.
Labels: Everyday Life, Last Life, Practice
The last time I can remember being at home just watching TV was hurricane day. The anniversary of Katrina. When Ellen was too much - the tears were more than I could handle - I flipped to Oprah. It was late summer, August, and she and Gail were debuting their road trip. Now here I am several months later, home again, and it is part two and three of the road trip. Are the TV gods telling me something? Road trip? Girl time? Get out and see America? I am never home at 4. I always wonder about signs like that. Road signs if you will. Some kind of sign that I can figure out later. Maybe when I get some more signs or clarity. Because at least she appeared to have a true real time out on the highway. Her and Gail in love with the moment. God they are not gay - they are just true to life best friends dealing with the ups and downs holding hands and smiling all the way. They just seemed happy.
Now it is time for Ina. I am not sure why she is the Barefoot Contessa. She is one of my favorites. Magoo and I also love the decadence of Paula and her obsession with butter. But Ina is so soft spoken and always has a ton of references to our traditional Jewish foods, she could be my mom or my best friend. But what about her is Contessa like? Or barefoot for that matter? She is Martha Stewart-esque, minus the annoying over achieving aspects. Martha's attitude makes me feel bad about myself. That I don't own actual linens and that I don't iron them. Or even have a proper room for them. But who the hell really does? I doubt Ina does. She seems real and always in love with her friends. Martha has no friends. At least no real ones. But Ina seems to possess an Oprah/Gail ability to be happy and in love with her friends in the moment. It seems genuine. Martha is just a plain mean girl and we know what I think about that.
I continue by breaking up teeny-tiny pieces of bread to shove into my mouth. A snack. Uh yeah whatever. My co-workers are on the cleanse diet and in a sad way I am too. I know that the adage that if you chew your food slowly and in small portions you will become fuller. I know it because it happens to me. Three bites of oatmeal and I am done. I've gotta be down a few. I turn back to my TV lady friends and notice that they consume and enjoy. No cleansing diets for them. They love their food, both dedicating their shows to it. Well all three, lets throw Paula in there too; she is gentile, kind, funny and welcoming. And they all have shows. How 'bout that? They are warm, smiley, and successful. Open about the whole thing. But they hold onto those extra lbs - lovingly almost. Like old friends who just don't care. So I stop worrying. When my ability to chew is back I will enjoy the hell outta a burger. Surrounded by my friends. Maybe this attitude will give me my own show. Probably not, but at least it will make me smile and happy and I can embrace them, hold their hands, and laugh. That may mean we are gay but it does not make us gay. It just makes us happy.
Labels: Everyday Life, Perspective
As promised, the pictures. Also because I told Kevin this was blog worthy. So really it is mostly for posterity purposes, as I don't want to continue to rub in the blue skies. In a few short hours I am heading in for gum surgery. It is actually a graft where they take some from the bottom and move it to the top. A cut and paste job, if you will. So let's call it even. I have the weather, but I am bed bound and going to the dreaded dentist. Again. Plus my eating will be severely impaired and that is a huge concern of mine.
Saturday was billed as Gasparilla Part Two. Which mostly means sitting around and drinking as there was no parade. Though I am willing to guess as many drunks. And who really needs an excuse to drink? As if the whole St. Patty's thing is not an excuse in and of itself. Especially when the weather was just so.....remember we are even. No grumbling. We had a tremendous afternoon lazying around, eating, watching what else but basketball, playing with the dogs and celebrating birthdays. And did I mention drinking?
Sunday was the Tampa Yankees. Our spring training team. We managed to make it through five innings and a grand slam, before the real spring team played. There were as many Yankee's jerseys in that stadium as Gators. And they all needed to exit by 2:30 for NCAA action. Looks like it is time for the Sweet Sixteen.
Just send me wishes that mine will be sweet too. And remember we are even.
Labels: Everyday Life
