My Mom and Dad are right now flying through the air to come take care of my Children and me.
Originally only my Mom was gonna come help me out but when I was on the phone with her and I told my children she was coming my boys yelled…
…”Yeah! Grandpas coming!!!!”
They are excited to see Baba (my Mom’s pet Grandma name).
She told my Dad and he decided immediately he was coming too. He is my boys Man hero, next to their own Dad.
The prep work entailed before my parents arrive is, well, extensive.
I let them have my bedroom whenever they stay with me. I have a small house, no guest room, I use that as my studio. I have to hide all my ‘secret’ things. Remove a bunch of stuff from my closet that is jam packed.
Then I move my self into my daughters room.
My daughter is a lot like me. She collects things, all sorts of weird things. She really likes rocks and put’s them in her jewelry boxes. Obviously they are precious to her. She has a mechanical hand, microscope and other various smart girl things. She’s 9, not a Barbie or doll in site. When I was painting her room she was up set that I didn’t paint it black, with hieroglyphics on the walls. Her gothic ways entertain me. I’ve put all her accoutrements in her closet, to make room for my own, mine consist of books and electronic items.
Her bed was mine for years. It’s been in our family for I don’t know how long. I do know it was once my Grandmothers, then my Mothers, mine and now my Daughters. It’s an antique 3/4 size bed that sleeps one 5.7, 120lb woman decently, no room for company unless they just plan on sitting on the edge.
Once my Mom helped me out while I traveled to Vegas for all of 38 hours.
I came back and she had completely cleaned out my pantry, she didn’t actually clean it. She had mirror imaged everything because ‘it made more sense’ to her that way. I put it back the way it belonged as soon as she left.
I’m going to have no control while they are here, laid up in my old bed unable to get around.
I’ve cleaned the majority of my house, sans my studio and garage.
If my Dad sold everything in my Garage on E-bay that would be cool. Sometimes I think the crew from Hoarders is going to show up. I have a fridge in there that I really don’t need along with a massive amount other things that I hope I would not feel deprived if I no longer owned them.
My Mom will clean out my studio and reorganize it. She’s a brilliant artist but where chaos for me is the norm, it is not for her.
I’m sure I’ll be calling her months down the road asking where she put my varnishes and epoxies.
I’m gonna pretend I’m on vacation and pop pills all day while they are here. Hopefully the drugs will whisk me away to a warm sunny place, the sand soft on my feet and drinks with umbrellas.
…or maybe I’ll skip the drugs…
…I’m delusional enough without drugs.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
A fear I never had before...
I was putting my children to bed tonight and my youngest started crying. He cries a lot but this time he was sad, not angry or frustrated. He is scared for me and for himself.
My surgery is Monday and he is apprehensive, as am I.
A few years ago the loss of ME would have meant nothing to me. I had nothing. I felt like I had nothing to live for. If you would like and haven’t read my Palimpsest blog….maybe you should. I thought that my children would be fine, they have a caring and loving father. I had been there to guide them as much as I thought I could. They would have the memory of me. I hoped a good one.
Eventually I found myself back amongst the living…
Whenever someone is ‘put under’ there is always a chance that something can happen.
My middle child asked me if they were putting me down, like a dog, and I told him I was hoping to wake up and not keep sleeping.
I’m not having heart surgery, a transplant…yada, yada, yada…although the pieces of a dead human will be placed in me.
It’s ONLY my knee.
I have already prepared myself mentally (as much as I can) for what I imagine could be the worst scenarios: stroke, the loss of my leg...but not the loss of me. Then sometimes I think I have with this silly blog, the story that is me. I have so much more now though…dreams I could have never imagined before...
This is me trying to share and actually open up with feelings, something I am also scared to do. I do not want to be emotional unavailable.
I’m afraid I won’t come back. My daughter won’t see me as the woman I want, not a door mat but a strong powerful woman, that she can also become.
My boys won’t see and respect an independent woman capable of love.
My surgery is Monday and he is apprehensive, as am I.
A few years ago the loss of ME would have meant nothing to me. I had nothing. I felt like I had nothing to live for. If you would like and haven’t read my Palimpsest blog….maybe you should. I thought that my children would be fine, they have a caring and loving father. I had been there to guide them as much as I thought I could. They would have the memory of me. I hoped a good one.
Eventually I found myself back amongst the living…
Whenever someone is ‘put under’ there is always a chance that something can happen.
My middle child asked me if they were putting me down, like a dog, and I told him I was hoping to wake up and not keep sleeping.
I’m not having heart surgery, a transplant…yada, yada, yada…although the pieces of a dead human will be placed in me.
It’s ONLY my knee.
I have already prepared myself mentally (as much as I can) for what I imagine could be the worst scenarios: stroke, the loss of my leg...but not the loss of me. Then sometimes I think I have with this silly blog, the story that is me. I have so much more now though…dreams I could have never imagined before...
This is me trying to share and actually open up with feelings, something I am also scared to do. I do not want to be emotional unavailable.
I’m afraid I won’t come back. My daughter won’t see me as the woman I want, not a door mat but a strong powerful woman, that she can also become.
My boys won’t see and respect an independent woman capable of love.
C U Next Tuesday
I’m trying to drop my children off at school yesterday morning and I’m in the ‘kiss and drop lane, newly coined by my friend Tricia as the ‘piss and drop lane’. I hadn’t actually reached one of the two choices of lanes though…as some total idiot of a woman had all the traffic backed up because she seemed to have declared one specific lane her chosen one. She couldn’t get into her desired lane because the direction she was coming from and she should have been getting into the other lane. I hope she can read lips. As I passed 5 cars, driving the wrong way through traffic, I slowed down as to make eye contact and called her names. Some of you have no clue what I am taking about. It’s ok, some of you do.
Dropping off the children can be very frustrating and at the moment I made I contact with said idiot woman I knew I was gonna call someone a C U Next Tuesday, Cunt.
I got over it and laughed wishing I could have sat her down and explained to her the traffic jam SHE caused. (It’s like that every morning.)
Moving on…
F2 and I head to the gym where we are meeting F1. On the way there we pass someone we know who has been pulled over by the Sheriff.
Me…”OH!…SNAP!”
F2…”I wonder if she talked her way out of it.”
Me…”I doubt it.”
While at the gym I get leered at by several men who don’t understand what a skinny woman with this leg brace that football players wear after they get a leg clipped is doing in the weight room. I leer back and raise my eyebrow as I walk past them. I grab my bosu ball and weights and start lifting one legged on my bad leg. It hurts but I have to make myself stronger in anticipation for surgery so I can recover faster. No pain meds allowed…I feel like a masochist.
An hour and a half later the leer’s realize that I’m not just some skinny girl. They are watching a woman that desires to be the bionic woman. That I can and will push myself to be stronger, faster, a bad ass mother fucker and nothing will stop me.
F1 and F2 show up in the weight room to check up on me. F1 want’s to do lunch and has sent the message to F3 and F4. It seems F3 and F4 have lunch plans already. F1 tells them…
F1…”Well we are coming too and if you don’t want to hang out with us we will just sit in another booth and listen in on your conversation.”
We get invited to sit with them;)
We leave so we can make it in time…
Garbanzos…
It’s a Mediterranean fast foodish place that just opened. We get our food and sit down...
We discuss the stupidity of women drivers….and the whole C U Next Tuesday…Poor F3, I ragged on her a bit. She parks her car once in awhile in the Handicapped spot at the school and then gets mad about it when someone tells her to move. HELLLOooooo!!!! She get’s frustrated with me whenever I bring it up. We all just exchange looks…our love for one another is unconditional though.
F3 changes the subject. She wants to show us some paint chips for her new place. (She is moving next month…:(
She removes these paint chips from a plastic baggy, in this plastic baggy are pictures, cards and such.
Me…”That’s your wallet?!”
F3…”NO! and don’t you dare blog about my plastic baggy.”
Me…”I have to now.”
F3…”Well, then you have to mention that I carry my baggy in my very nice Coach purse."
We take all of our stuff out of our purses to see what each one of us carries. F1 can’t take everything out of her bag…
F1…”It’s called a concealed license, I can’t take it out.”
They are all organized, my purse is a disaster. Random receipts, lip gloss, tampons and a REAL wallet.
We pinky swear we will all get together at least once every five years and come to the conclusion we need some therapy. I think my friends saw me tear up. I’m very upset about F3 moving and I don’t want anyone to know but…I’m really, really gonna miss her.
F2…”Oh my God, Kristin, you HAVE feelings?!”
Me…”Shut up! I have something in my eyes.”
We all tear up. There will be a lot of tears in the next couple of weeks for us.
F4 declares her house as where we will be having therapy but can’t make it right away and tells us to head over there with out her and get’s started.
As we are headed out the manager says to us…
…”C U Next Tuesday!”
We laughed like maniacs, he had no idea why.
F1 and I get there first and help ourselves into her house and talk about moving F4’s furniture around. When ever one of us goes out of town we like to ‘break in’ to said house and move shit around. Taking pictures of ourselves doing things we should NOT be doing…random fun consisting of pillow fights on their beds, trying on their husbands cloths and uniforms, looking in all their drawers and cupboards and taking all their ice, drinking their beverages and eating their snacks.
Don’t ever let me have a key to your house.
We turn her lounge chair around so it’s facing the kitchen, that way I can sit comfortably. I get out the Tequila, triple sec and lime aid. F3 walks in and sees me pour the tequila and says…
…”Is all that booze?”
Me…”Yes…!”
I look around to find all of F4’s rice bags, and I systematically heat them all up for us to use.
F4 made us all rice bags for Christmas. I didn’t have a microwave before and the only reason I bought one was so I could heat up my rice bag!
I sit down on the lounge chair and F3 joins me, we have rice bags all over our selves. The drinks still aren’t ready…
F1 get’s busy, at a snails pace and I say…
Me…”It’s takin’ forever to get a drink around here.”
F3 agrees as we both just sit there.
F1 just looks at us and finishes the beverages and hands them to us.
F4, daughter in hand shows up as does F2…we are still waiting for F5, which had been AWOL. She finally shows up and we start chatting.
Our first conversation was about our love of our rice bags and I tell them…
Me…”I find myself waking up in the middle of the night cuddling with mine. Can you make me a really big one?”
The others have found themselves doing the same. Husbands and children stealing them away…These rice bags are ridiculously fabulous!
As always sex comes up, religion, and our bucket lists.
F1 has been having lower abdominal issues lately and she says…
…”I told my husband the other day, ‘I feel like I have enough shit in me, I don’t need more shoved in there.”
She then tells us she gave him a ‘lollipop’.
We all laugh, how can we not.
Oral sex is a subject we talk about ALL the time. This time we discussed the nooks and crannies of the female anatomy. (again…C U Next Tuesday)
Somehow we switch to Religion, I think the segue was something concerning my blog…;/
F1 is a Born Again. Can you be re-born…you can in my mind, I just see it as reincarnation. I always joke that she is “Spirit Filled”…the spirit being VODKA!
She once went to Mardi Gras to spread the ‘word’…
She saw a woman in chaps…just chaps and thought it would be funny to put a sticker on the ladies ass…”Jesus lives in me” or something like that. Funny imagine HER the one WEARING the chaps.
Then we talk about our bucket list’s…We have ALL done some crazy ass shit, well, some more than others and come to the agreement that if one of us has done it the others don’t have too….like getting arrested…
This blog is stoooooopid long and just stupid, I’ll end the pain here...
Dropping off the children can be very frustrating and at the moment I made I contact with said idiot woman I knew I was gonna call someone a C U Next Tuesday, Cunt.
I got over it and laughed wishing I could have sat her down and explained to her the traffic jam SHE caused. (It’s like that every morning.)
Moving on…
F2 and I head to the gym where we are meeting F1. On the way there we pass someone we know who has been pulled over by the Sheriff.
Me…”OH!…SNAP!”
F2…”I wonder if she talked her way out of it.”
Me…”I doubt it.”
While at the gym I get leered at by several men who don’t understand what a skinny woman with this leg brace that football players wear after they get a leg clipped is doing in the weight room. I leer back and raise my eyebrow as I walk past them. I grab my bosu ball and weights and start lifting one legged on my bad leg. It hurts but I have to make myself stronger in anticipation for surgery so I can recover faster. No pain meds allowed…I feel like a masochist.
An hour and a half later the leer’s realize that I’m not just some skinny girl. They are watching a woman that desires to be the bionic woman. That I can and will push myself to be stronger, faster, a bad ass mother fucker and nothing will stop me.
F1 and F2 show up in the weight room to check up on me. F1 want’s to do lunch and has sent the message to F3 and F4. It seems F3 and F4 have lunch plans already. F1 tells them…
F1…”Well we are coming too and if you don’t want to hang out with us we will just sit in another booth and listen in on your conversation.”
We get invited to sit with them;)
We leave so we can make it in time…
Garbanzos…
It’s a Mediterranean fast foodish place that just opened. We get our food and sit down...
We discuss the stupidity of women drivers….and the whole C U Next Tuesday…Poor F3, I ragged on her a bit. She parks her car once in awhile in the Handicapped spot at the school and then gets mad about it when someone tells her to move. HELLLOooooo!!!! She get’s frustrated with me whenever I bring it up. We all just exchange looks…our love for one another is unconditional though.
F3 changes the subject. She wants to show us some paint chips for her new place. (She is moving next month…:(
She removes these paint chips from a plastic baggy, in this plastic baggy are pictures, cards and such.
Me…”That’s your wallet?!”
F3…”NO! and don’t you dare blog about my plastic baggy.”
Me…”I have to now.”
F3…”Well, then you have to mention that I carry my baggy in my very nice Coach purse."
We take all of our stuff out of our purses to see what each one of us carries. F1 can’t take everything out of her bag…
F1…”It’s called a concealed license, I can’t take it out.”
They are all organized, my purse is a disaster. Random receipts, lip gloss, tampons and a REAL wallet.
We pinky swear we will all get together at least once every five years and come to the conclusion we need some therapy. I think my friends saw me tear up. I’m very upset about F3 moving and I don’t want anyone to know but…I’m really, really gonna miss her.
F2…”Oh my God, Kristin, you HAVE feelings?!”
Me…”Shut up! I have something in my eyes.”
We all tear up. There will be a lot of tears in the next couple of weeks for us.
F4 declares her house as where we will be having therapy but can’t make it right away and tells us to head over there with out her and get’s started.
As we are headed out the manager says to us…
…”C U Next Tuesday!”
We laughed like maniacs, he had no idea why.
F1 and I get there first and help ourselves into her house and talk about moving F4’s furniture around. When ever one of us goes out of town we like to ‘break in’ to said house and move shit around. Taking pictures of ourselves doing things we should NOT be doing…random fun consisting of pillow fights on their beds, trying on their husbands cloths and uniforms, looking in all their drawers and cupboards and taking all their ice, drinking their beverages and eating their snacks.
Don’t ever let me have a key to your house.
We turn her lounge chair around so it’s facing the kitchen, that way I can sit comfortably. I get out the Tequila, triple sec and lime aid. F3 walks in and sees me pour the tequila and says…
…”Is all that booze?”
Me…”Yes…!”
I look around to find all of F4’s rice bags, and I systematically heat them all up for us to use.
F4 made us all rice bags for Christmas. I didn’t have a microwave before and the only reason I bought one was so I could heat up my rice bag!
I sit down on the lounge chair and F3 joins me, we have rice bags all over our selves. The drinks still aren’t ready…
F1 get’s busy, at a snails pace and I say…
Me…”It’s takin’ forever to get a drink around here.”
F3 agrees as we both just sit there.
F1 just looks at us and finishes the beverages and hands them to us.
F4, daughter in hand shows up as does F2…we are still waiting for F5, which had been AWOL. She finally shows up and we start chatting.
Our first conversation was about our love of our rice bags and I tell them…
Me…”I find myself waking up in the middle of the night cuddling with mine. Can you make me a really big one?”
The others have found themselves doing the same. Husbands and children stealing them away…These rice bags are ridiculously fabulous!
As always sex comes up, religion, and our bucket lists.
F1 has been having lower abdominal issues lately and she says…
…”I told my husband the other day, ‘I feel like I have enough shit in me, I don’t need more shoved in there.”
She then tells us she gave him a ‘lollipop’.
We all laugh, how can we not.
Oral sex is a subject we talk about ALL the time. This time we discussed the nooks and crannies of the female anatomy. (again…C U Next Tuesday)
Somehow we switch to Religion, I think the segue was something concerning my blog…;/
F1 is a Born Again. Can you be re-born…you can in my mind, I just see it as reincarnation. I always joke that she is “Spirit Filled”…the spirit being VODKA!
She once went to Mardi Gras to spread the ‘word’…
She saw a woman in chaps…just chaps and thought it would be funny to put a sticker on the ladies ass…”Jesus lives in me” or something like that. Funny imagine HER the one WEARING the chaps.
Then we talk about our bucket list’s…We have ALL done some crazy ass shit, well, some more than others and come to the agreement that if one of us has done it the others don’t have too….like getting arrested…
This blog is stoooooopid long and just stupid, I’ll end the pain here...
Friday, January 21, 2011
No Strings Attached, a review of the movie, is this my life too?
F1, F2 and F6 and I went to see the 11:10 matinee today of ‘No Strings Attached’. Meanwhile F1’s and F2’s spouses tagged sort of along, but went to ‘True Grit’ instead.
I normally would dread movie day with my friends. Not the time WITH my friends but the movie itself. They like Romantic Comedies.
I think romantic comedies are usually crap. After I watch the movie I walk out thinking, “Great, I’ll never get that hour and half of my life back.”
This time though I wanted to see this film. I’m single with very dysfunctional relationships…
The other day a male friend of mine texted me and said what are we gonna call “this”; FB?, NSA? or FWB?
I had to see this movie that is my life.
...and Ashton Kutcher is very nice to look at and I have always liked Natalie Portman.
She was fab as the Cougar, Padme. Have you ever thought about it. How old was Anakin when Padme first met him…maybe 10?…hmmmmmmmm. I like her style!
On to the movie Review…or is it…a review of my fucked up life?
Natalie Portman is Emma, Ashton Kutcher is Adam.
They meet at camp when they were about 14 years oldish (Ebert says they meet when they are six, if a six year old knows what fingering is then their parents should be locked up), again at a frat party then again 5 years later bump into each other at a farmers market like event.
Adam is with his girl friend, Vanessa. Adam and Emma exchange phone numbers…
You should see the movie. I’m not gonna give it all away…
It was 20 minutes to long...it should have ended when he dropped her off in front of the hospital.
…”You should hope you never see me again.”
That’s a line I could/probably should use.
I also am more comfortable knowing a man I am ‘seeing’ is seeing other people. It means they are keeping their options open. If you know me, you know you should probably keep your options open.
As I type this I wonder what the men that know me and read this think…I take a deep breath and just keep on typing though.
The movie is more than just the trailer. Often the trailer IS the movie.
I read a whole bunch of movie reviews after I saw it out of curiosity.
I don’t agree with the reviews I read.
It was a film where people spoke out loud like I do. Literally the things that came out of their mouths come out of mine.
Rodger Ebert, “They’re sitcom characters allowed to go all the way like grown ups.”
Betsy Sharkey, “An obsession with raunchy one-liners……sleazy, cheesy affair.”
….Ahhahhahaaaaa!!!!! This is what they call MY LIFE!
I read other reviews, they almost all say the same thing.
I wonder what they would say if they were reviewing a day in the life of me?
I normally would dread movie day with my friends. Not the time WITH my friends but the movie itself. They like Romantic Comedies.
I think romantic comedies are usually crap. After I watch the movie I walk out thinking, “Great, I’ll never get that hour and half of my life back.”
This time though I wanted to see this film. I’m single with very dysfunctional relationships…
The other day a male friend of mine texted me and said what are we gonna call “this”; FB?, NSA? or FWB?
I had to see this movie that is my life.
...and Ashton Kutcher is very nice to look at and I have always liked Natalie Portman.
She was fab as the Cougar, Padme. Have you ever thought about it. How old was Anakin when Padme first met him…maybe 10?…hmmmmmmmm. I like her style!
On to the movie Review…or is it…a review of my fucked up life?
Natalie Portman is Emma, Ashton Kutcher is Adam.
They meet at camp when they were about 14 years oldish (Ebert says they meet when they are six, if a six year old knows what fingering is then their parents should be locked up), again at a frat party then again 5 years later bump into each other at a farmers market like event.
Adam is with his girl friend, Vanessa. Adam and Emma exchange phone numbers…
You should see the movie. I’m not gonna give it all away…
It was 20 minutes to long...it should have ended when he dropped her off in front of the hospital.
…”You should hope you never see me again.”
That’s a line I could/probably should use.
I also am more comfortable knowing a man I am ‘seeing’ is seeing other people. It means they are keeping their options open. If you know me, you know you should probably keep your options open.
As I type this I wonder what the men that know me and read this think…I take a deep breath and just keep on typing though.
The movie is more than just the trailer. Often the trailer IS the movie.
I read a whole bunch of movie reviews after I saw it out of curiosity.
I don’t agree with the reviews I read.
It was a film where people spoke out loud like I do. Literally the things that came out of their mouths come out of mine.
Rodger Ebert, “They’re sitcom characters allowed to go all the way like grown ups.”
Betsy Sharkey, “An obsession with raunchy one-liners……sleazy, cheesy affair.”
….Ahhahhahaaaaa!!!!! This is what they call MY LIFE!
I read other reviews, they almost all say the same thing.
I wonder what they would say if they were reviewing a day in the life of me?
Thursday, January 20, 2011
The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills
Have you ever watched any of the Real Housewives series on the Bravo network?
You don’t have to admit it. I know many closet watchers.
I think I have seen every episode made. All the cities, Atlanta, Beverly Hill’s, Orange county, New Jersey, New York and D.C.
I love watching them bicker over mind numbing doltishness.
I’m gonna focus on Beverly Hills tonight, season finale and all...
Adrianne
Camille
Kim
Kyle
Lisa
Taylor
All these women are Gorgeous, with a capital G! I’m thinking I must be fond of botox and plastic surgery on women.
Seeing how the other half lives in lavish homes, with marble floors and fresh flowers in foyers. I look around my own home and dream. I imagine though there are sacrifices to have such goods. We see the sacrifices through out the year. Marriages crumbling before our eyes. Friendships tossed into a turvy. Sisters attacking one another with venomous outbursts.
I would love to hang out with Lisa, Adrianne, Taylor and Kyle.
Lisa, is portrayed as hilarious. Her dry English sense of humor is first-class! I also love her live in gay boyfriend, Cedric. At the beginning of the season I had my fingers crossed that Cedric really was gay. He lives (or used to) with Lisa and her Ken. I like Ken.
Adrianne, rocks my world. A strong independent woman, tough but with no hard edge.
Taylor, I feel her pain. Russell, her husband, is an ass.
Kyle, so very beautiful and I just, kinda like her.
Now on to the trainwrecks, both of them although I am gonna put Taylor in this category as well.
Kim, she’s child star and is a fucking mess. More of a mess than me. She supported her family as a child and seems to be very fraught with regret about time this and her lost childhood. She has been divorced twice and has 4 children….and want’s more? She’s gonna have to find someone to have sex with her first. I think she yearns for her sister, Kyle’s life. I surmise this because she seems to be jealous of her sister, the very exquisite Kyle. Hell, I covet her beauty, family and what seems to be from the outside a wonderful husband.
Taylor, this woman is so unhappy in her marriage!…I recognize her in me, not the me now, the me that was. I can give you no background, she actually comes across as a one dimensional beauty. I’d like to get into her brain, I’m sure there is one there. I’m not saying she’s a dim, she just seems, plastic.
and...my favorite…
Camille, she thinks a great deal of herself. More than I think of myself. What we can deduce from this is astronomical proportion wise. I think in almost every episode one of her ‘friends’, her hair stylist, makeup artist or designer, says to her…
…”they’re just jealous of you.”
No they are not!
She lives in a world that is not real and she can’t see the wall that is gonna hit her in the face where we can.
I don’t really like her. I feel bad for her but no likey on my part, sorry.
So her and Kelsey Grammer, her now soon to be Ex husband to be, ended their marriage on the finale and the previous episode…
His fake smile and short words with her are blatant clues that all is not as seems when the door is closed.
I love these shows.
I can’t wait to see the reunion on Thursday...
You don’t have to admit it. I know many closet watchers.
I think I have seen every episode made. All the cities, Atlanta, Beverly Hill’s, Orange county, New Jersey, New York and D.C.
I love watching them bicker over mind numbing doltishness.
I’m gonna focus on Beverly Hills tonight, season finale and all...
Adrianne
Camille
Kim
Kyle
Lisa
Taylor
All these women are Gorgeous, with a capital G! I’m thinking I must be fond of botox and plastic surgery on women.
Seeing how the other half lives in lavish homes, with marble floors and fresh flowers in foyers. I look around my own home and dream. I imagine though there are sacrifices to have such goods. We see the sacrifices through out the year. Marriages crumbling before our eyes. Friendships tossed into a turvy. Sisters attacking one another with venomous outbursts.
I would love to hang out with Lisa, Adrianne, Taylor and Kyle.
Lisa, is portrayed as hilarious. Her dry English sense of humor is first-class! I also love her live in gay boyfriend, Cedric. At the beginning of the season I had my fingers crossed that Cedric really was gay. He lives (or used to) with Lisa and her Ken. I like Ken.
Adrianne, rocks my world. A strong independent woman, tough but with no hard edge.
Taylor, I feel her pain. Russell, her husband, is an ass.
Kyle, so very beautiful and I just, kinda like her.
Now on to the trainwrecks, both of them although I am gonna put Taylor in this category as well.
Kim, she’s child star and is a fucking mess. More of a mess than me. She supported her family as a child and seems to be very fraught with regret about time this and her lost childhood. She has been divorced twice and has 4 children….and want’s more? She’s gonna have to find someone to have sex with her first. I think she yearns for her sister, Kyle’s life. I surmise this because she seems to be jealous of her sister, the very exquisite Kyle. Hell, I covet her beauty, family and what seems to be from the outside a wonderful husband.
Taylor, this woman is so unhappy in her marriage!…I recognize her in me, not the me now, the me that was. I can give you no background, she actually comes across as a one dimensional beauty. I’d like to get into her brain, I’m sure there is one there. I’m not saying she’s a dim, she just seems, plastic.
and...my favorite…
Camille, she thinks a great deal of herself. More than I think of myself. What we can deduce from this is astronomical proportion wise. I think in almost every episode one of her ‘friends’, her hair stylist, makeup artist or designer, says to her…
…”they’re just jealous of you.”
No they are not!
She lives in a world that is not real and she can’t see the wall that is gonna hit her in the face where we can.
I don’t really like her. I feel bad for her but no likey on my part, sorry.
So her and Kelsey Grammer, her now soon to be Ex husband to be, ended their marriage on the finale and the previous episode…
His fake smile and short words with her are blatant clues that all is not as seems when the door is closed.
I love these shows.
I can’t wait to see the reunion on Thursday...
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
The Red Tent…Period. Aunt Dot, Niddah
Last night I sat in front of my television and ate a great deal of potato chips and M&M’s. One chip, thrice M&M’s, one chip, thrice M&M’s…repeat, repeat, repeat…(I was watching Conan).
Every month, around the time of the full moon, my uterine lining separates from my uterus.
The reason my uterine lining needs to separate its self is because it has grown and become a flourishing nest in anticipation for a fertilized egg. The fertilized egg is not gonna happen to me unless some miraculous event occurs, no, not sex, although…, giggle, giggle, snort, snort. I digress yet again, what was I saying? Oh yes, a miracle…my eggs are useless, completely useless! I am very sensitive (not emotionally, except once a month). I can physically feel the growth of my eggs in my ovaries. My ovaries become very large and I itch, I can feel them expanding with fruitless effort. My eggs are released and get absorbed into my body. They do not find my fallopian tubes….and if they ever do I will have to kick someones ass ‘cause I’m 39 and single/divorced…I don’t need to be pregnant, plus I like the shape of my hips…I’ve become used to them.
The uterus clears its self of the lining, this is called our period, cycle, the curse, the gift…
I woke up this morning, many hours before dawn, with 'discomfort' in my abdomen. I’m trying to find the words so my male readers can fathom this pain and maybe feel compassion for me/us. If you live or have ever lived with a woman you have inevitably seen all this…but you didn’t feel it like her.
The sensation is that of an invisible hand squeezing your insides, a chocking grasp that can last one minute and sometimes up to fifteen, to the point you are doubled over in agony.
You want to call it a cramp? F*** that!
It doesn’t just happen once, it happens over and over. Some women, like myself, get to experience this for days.
Before the agony the hormones barrage through us like a torrent creating emotional instability.
Wanna know why we turn in to raving, hysterical bitch’s that want to rip the throats out of anyone that says anything remotely close to what we conceive as inappropriate, wrong, stupid…
…and don’t you DARE say to us…
…”Oh, it must be that time of the month.”
We can’t stop it! You think we like it? We know it’s gonna happen. The hormones and the excruciating pain comes once a MONTH!
The word “hysteria” comes from the Greek word hystera, meaning "womb.” If you didn’t know, the womb and the uterus are the same thing.
Giving credit where credit is due.
And I now move on from hysterics…to sociological and physical aspects of chance, celebration and ceremony related to our cycle and the ‘magic’ that it is.
The Ceremony...
The Red Tent by Anita Diamant is a marvelous novel about Dinah, daughter of Jacob and his four wives Leah, Rachel, Zilpah and Bilhah. (Recommended reading;)
Ms. Diamant discribes brilliantly life for girls and women in ancient times. How girls waited with anticipation to become women. (This boggles my un-clean brain.)The red tent is where the women would go, not allowed to leave until seven days after her menstrual cycle is complete. She was, and even now Hasidic Jewish women are considered un-clean not allowed to have sex, or touch anything for it would become un-clean.
They (to this day) are not even allowed to touch their husband.
They bath themselves in the mikvah to become clean again.
Societies through out time and all over the world have the similar ideas to varying degrees as the Hasidic Jews. From the Japanese women not being allowed to visit Kami’s (Holy Shinto shrines), Hindu, Buddhist…to societies in Africa and the Aborigines in Australia…
The Celebration...
Then there are the very ancient groups that viewed a woman during her ‘Moontime’ as a someone to be frightened of for we are more powerful and can call on the wrath of any God/Goddess to do our bidding.
(Do you wanna mess with me right now? I wouldn’t suggest it.)
I do celebrate it and use it. I’m powerful on a regular day but on my special days (after I have consumed absurd amounts of motrin) …I grin like a cheshire cat…Purrrrrrrrrr…with big cat tendencies and claws and teeth able to rip through any obstacle.
The Chance…
F1, F2 and I spend so much time together our cycles are in sync. Yes, when women spend all their time together they become a gang of un-clean women to some, to others that can see us, really see us, we are a force of nature not to be reckoned with.
Every month, around the time of the full moon, my uterine lining separates from my uterus.
The reason my uterine lining needs to separate its self is because it has grown and become a flourishing nest in anticipation for a fertilized egg. The fertilized egg is not gonna happen to me unless some miraculous event occurs, no, not sex, although…, giggle, giggle, snort, snort. I digress yet again, what was I saying? Oh yes, a miracle…my eggs are useless, completely useless! I am very sensitive (not emotionally, except once a month). I can physically feel the growth of my eggs in my ovaries. My ovaries become very large and I itch, I can feel them expanding with fruitless effort. My eggs are released and get absorbed into my body. They do not find my fallopian tubes….and if they ever do I will have to kick someones ass ‘cause I’m 39 and single/divorced…I don’t need to be pregnant, plus I like the shape of my hips…I’ve become used to them.
The uterus clears its self of the lining, this is called our period, cycle, the curse, the gift…
I woke up this morning, many hours before dawn, with 'discomfort' in my abdomen. I’m trying to find the words so my male readers can fathom this pain and maybe feel compassion for me/us. If you live or have ever lived with a woman you have inevitably seen all this…but you didn’t feel it like her.
The sensation is that of an invisible hand squeezing your insides, a chocking grasp that can last one minute and sometimes up to fifteen, to the point you are doubled over in agony.
You want to call it a cramp? F*** that!
It doesn’t just happen once, it happens over and over. Some women, like myself, get to experience this for days.
Before the agony the hormones barrage through us like a torrent creating emotional instability.
Wanna know why we turn in to raving, hysterical bitch’s that want to rip the throats out of anyone that says anything remotely close to what we conceive as inappropriate, wrong, stupid…
…and don’t you DARE say to us…
…”Oh, it must be that time of the month.”
We can’t stop it! You think we like it? We know it’s gonna happen. The hormones and the excruciating pain comes once a MONTH!
The word “hysteria” comes from the Greek word hystera, meaning "womb.” If you didn’t know, the womb and the uterus are the same thing.
"1. Originally "hysteria" designated a link between certain nervous disorders and diseases of the female sexual and reproductive organs. It was thought that there was a direct connection between these physical pathologies localized in the female organs and certain nervous symptoms.I just copied that almost word for word from 'Lecture Notes: Freud, "Aetiology of Hysteria" (1896)’
2. This explains why hysteria has commonly been conceived as a pathology to which women are exclusively susceptible. If it is based in a physiological source that is gender specific (the uterus), then the illness itself could only occur where this prerequisite physiology is present.
3. Hysteria defined (Webster's): "A psychiatric condition variously characterized by emotional excitability, excessive anxiety, sensory and motor disturbances, or the unconscious simulation of organic disorders.”
Giving credit where credit is due.
And I now move on from hysterics…to sociological and physical aspects of chance, celebration and ceremony related to our cycle and the ‘magic’ that it is.
The Ceremony...
The Red Tent by Anita Diamant is a marvelous novel about Dinah, daughter of Jacob and his four wives Leah, Rachel, Zilpah and Bilhah. (Recommended reading;)
Ms. Diamant discribes brilliantly life for girls and women in ancient times. How girls waited with anticipation to become women. (This boggles my un-clean brain.)The red tent is where the women would go, not allowed to leave until seven days after her menstrual cycle is complete. She was, and even now Hasidic Jewish women are considered un-clean not allowed to have sex, or touch anything for it would become un-clean.
They (to this day) are not even allowed to touch their husband.
They bath themselves in the mikvah to become clean again.
Societies through out time and all over the world have the similar ideas to varying degrees as the Hasidic Jews. From the Japanese women not being allowed to visit Kami’s (Holy Shinto shrines), Hindu, Buddhist…to societies in Africa and the Aborigines in Australia…
The Celebration...
Then there are the very ancient groups that viewed a woman during her ‘Moontime’ as a someone to be frightened of for we are more powerful and can call on the wrath of any God/Goddess to do our bidding.
(Do you wanna mess with me right now? I wouldn’t suggest it.)
I do celebrate it and use it. I’m powerful on a regular day but on my special days (after I have consumed absurd amounts of motrin) …I grin like a cheshire cat…Purrrrrrrrrr…with big cat tendencies and claws and teeth able to rip through any obstacle.
The Chance…
F1, F2 and I spend so much time together our cycles are in sync. Yes, when women spend all their time together they become a gang of un-clean women to some, to others that can see us, really see us, we are a force of nature not to be reckoned with.
Monday, January 17, 2011
I haven’t seen that movie about Facebook. I’ll wait for it to come out on DVD…now that I can turn my DVD player on.
Friends
Some people will friend any and everyone.
Is that their business plan?
Do they really know ALL those people?…I don’t know if I even know 3000 people.
If it’s YOU I’m talking about…IS it your business plan?
I know it’s a networking thing. I’m just messin’ with ya, cause I’m jealous that YOU have a business plan and I don’t.
Others have maybe 50 friends. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say they know all of them.
I have over 450 friends. The number varies though because I get de-friended…once a weekish?
I know all but 5 of them personally. I think...
One is an artist I really like. Two are guys that which I share common friends.
Another is a hilarious youtube guy that I, yes I, friended. I couldn’t help myself he had me in stitches I was laughing so hard.
Yet another is a girl friend that I was set up with by mutual friends. We have yet to meet but are good friends via phone chats…long phone chats.
Let’s clarify the term ‘friend’. People I know. I will break bread and have a beer with ALL of them, but I will not tell them ALL my intimate secrets. Yes, I do have secrets. I don’t share everything on my blog either, it just looks like I do.
The average person has 150 friends, just in case you were wondering.
De-Friending
Have YOU ever been de-friended? Is that what it’s called?
So yeah, above I say I probably get de-friended once a week-ish.
Sometimes it’s not really de-friending, it’s just people closing out their accounts.
Then other times I AM positive I have been de-friended.
(You came up in the ‘people you may know’ thingy)
Hmmmmm...
Did I say something that offended you?
Were you just cleaning up your list to include 'just friends’?
This whole time I thought we were friends!
One of my friends got a, “Hey, I’m de-friending you and here’s why…” message once.
I like that idea.
If you de-friend me could you send me one of those?
I’m not gonna change but hello…I’m just a curious kitten…
...“Purrrrrrr”
Once in awhile I KNOW why someone has de-friended me….oops…I didn’t know that your sense of humor was in your ass and you shit it out this morning.
Status Up Dates
I have friends that never complain. When they do post an up date they keep it positive. (I know some behind the scene stuff…I’m proud of them and their out look.)
Others are incredibly negative and un-happy.
If you are not happy I would like you to refer to my ‘Palimpsest’ blog, or ‘A bit of my childhood…’
There also those that post mundane crap. (I’m not talking about YOU it couldn’t be you.)
I actually like all the up-dates, even the mundane ones.
My favorites are the controversial ones…where fights break out! Words are tossed around like grenades. WaHooo….the stupid people are 'ripped new ones’ because they have no idea what they are talking about….or…you watch the de-friending happen live!
I also enjoy the funny and thought provoking up dates.
The Stalker vs the Stalkeee…eek…and the in-between.
You know the Stalker, they never post status up dates. You know they are out there though in cyber space reading everything and looking at all your pictures.
I’m a Stalkeee…eek…I try to be worthy of a good stalking. I think I have more pictures of myself and the goings on in my life than most people. I like to think of it as ‘scrapbooking’ just via FB. I once went a couple of days with out posting anything. Privately some of my friends contacted me, worried that something was wrong. I just had nothing to say.
Then we have the in-betweens, posting something every once in awhile…
Wall Posts
I love it when people post stuff on my wall. I feel SO special, really I do. Is that sad?
I also like posting on other peoples walls sometimes. I want them to feel special.
If I comment on someones post I remove it almost immediately from my page. I might stop this habit. I look at as keeping my page ‘clean’. Maybe I should dirty it up a bit;)
I <3 Facebook
I love that I have been able to stay in touch with my friends around the world, from High School, family members and people that knew me when I was but in the womb of my very forgiving Mother.
I like that I can see pictures of your children as they grow up…but I don’t have to hear them cry. I would like to hold them though.
I like the videos people post of baby’s first steps. I don’t always comment but I watched and felt your pride!
I love that I have seen the rebirth of love between high school sweethearts on FB…and now that they are both divorced live together.
I love the connection….
Friends
Some people will friend any and everyone.
Is that their business plan?
Do they really know ALL those people?…I don’t know if I even know 3000 people.
If it’s YOU I’m talking about…IS it your business plan?
I know it’s a networking thing. I’m just messin’ with ya, cause I’m jealous that YOU have a business plan and I don’t.
Others have maybe 50 friends. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say they know all of them.
I have over 450 friends. The number varies though because I get de-friended…once a weekish?
I know all but 5 of them personally. I think...
One is an artist I really like. Two are guys that which I share common friends.
Another is a hilarious youtube guy that I, yes I, friended. I couldn’t help myself he had me in stitches I was laughing so hard.
Yet another is a girl friend that I was set up with by mutual friends. We have yet to meet but are good friends via phone chats…long phone chats.
Let’s clarify the term ‘friend’. People I know. I will break bread and have a beer with ALL of them, but I will not tell them ALL my intimate secrets. Yes, I do have secrets. I don’t share everything on my blog either, it just looks like I do.
The average person has 150 friends, just in case you were wondering.
De-Friending
Have YOU ever been de-friended? Is that what it’s called?
So yeah, above I say I probably get de-friended once a week-ish.
Sometimes it’s not really de-friending, it’s just people closing out their accounts.
Then other times I AM positive I have been de-friended.
(You came up in the ‘people you may know’ thingy)
Hmmmmm...
Did I say something that offended you?
Were you just cleaning up your list to include 'just friends’?
This whole time I thought we were friends!
One of my friends got a, “Hey, I’m de-friending you and here’s why…” message once.
I like that idea.
If you de-friend me could you send me one of those?
I’m not gonna change but hello…I’m just a curious kitten…
...“Purrrrrrr”
Once in awhile I KNOW why someone has de-friended me….oops…I didn’t know that your sense of humor was in your ass and you shit it out this morning.
Status Up Dates
I have friends that never complain. When they do post an up date they keep it positive. (I know some behind the scene stuff…I’m proud of them and their out look.)
Others are incredibly negative and un-happy.
If you are not happy I would like you to refer to my ‘Palimpsest’ blog, or ‘A bit of my childhood…’
There also those that post mundane crap. (I’m not talking about YOU it couldn’t be you.)
I actually like all the up-dates, even the mundane ones.
My favorites are the controversial ones…where fights break out! Words are tossed around like grenades. WaHooo….the stupid people are 'ripped new ones’ because they have no idea what they are talking about….or…you watch the de-friending happen live!
I also enjoy the funny and thought provoking up dates.
The Stalker vs the Stalkeee…eek…and the in-between.
You know the Stalker, they never post status up dates. You know they are out there though in cyber space reading everything and looking at all your pictures.
I’m a Stalkeee…eek…I try to be worthy of a good stalking. I think I have more pictures of myself and the goings on in my life than most people. I like to think of it as ‘scrapbooking’ just via FB. I once went a couple of days with out posting anything. Privately some of my friends contacted me, worried that something was wrong. I just had nothing to say.
Then we have the in-betweens, posting something every once in awhile…
Wall Posts
I love it when people post stuff on my wall. I feel SO special, really I do. Is that sad?
I also like posting on other peoples walls sometimes. I want them to feel special.
If I comment on someones post I remove it almost immediately from my page. I might stop this habit. I look at as keeping my page ‘clean’. Maybe I should dirty it up a bit;)
I <3 Facebook
I love that I have been able to stay in touch with my friends around the world, from High School, family members and people that knew me when I was but in the womb of my very forgiving Mother.
I like that I can see pictures of your children as they grow up…but I don’t have to hear them cry. I would like to hold them though.
I like the videos people post of baby’s first steps. I don’t always comment but I watched and felt your pride!
I love that I have seen the rebirth of love between high school sweethearts on FB…and now that they are both divorced live together.
I love the connection….
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Toilets
Ideas flood and over flow from my brain….Quickly!!! Someone get a plunger!
This is a serious matter. We have all used one at sometime in our lives. Don’t lie. I know you have. #1’s and #2’s….
When learning a new language one of the first things you learn is…
…”Ou sont le toilettes?”
…”Ayn al-hhammam?”
…”Torie wa doko desu ka.” (No question mark as 'desu ka' is the question mark)
…”Gdu teulet?”
…”Donde esta el bano?"
My youngest son asked me the other day…
S…”Mom did you and Dad get divorced because you were tired of cleaning all the bathrooms?”
My ‘new’ place here in the ghetto that I now reside with great glee only has two bathrooms.
It takes me only 30 min. to clean the actual bathroom…the toilets though take about an hour each. I have a special yellow toothbrush that hangs out with my cleaning supplies. I replace it every month as it sees a lot of bleach and ….uggggh…!
I have two small boys that have a difficult time finding “the hole”. I really hope when they are older and of appropriate age they can find “the hole”.
Once I walked into my downstairs bathroom and my nose was assaulted, the bouquet of urine was permeating the air. I looked around the base thinking maybe one of them had missed…by a long shot this time. It was clean.
Where the hell was it coming from?
I looked in the garbage. They are young boys, I really don’t want to have to explain their behavior or why I WOULD look in the garbage…it’s just embarrassing.
All the bending over and looking around had made my nose run. I go to grab a tissue from the tissue box on top of the back of the toilet…
Holy Urine Smell Batman!
I lift up the box and the bottom is coated with urine? I look behind the toilet and see streaks going down the wall.
I call my middle child front and center. (I knew it was him with out a doubt in my head.)
I asked him…
…”Why am I going to have to clean the toilet up here AND behind it?”
MC…”Ummmm…..I don’t know.”
Me…”Yes, you do. Lying will get you in more trouble.”
MC…”I pointed my penis up instead of down this time.”
Me…”WHY?” with exhaustion…
MC…”Dunno.” as he shrugged his shoulders.
This blog will not just contain the absurd toilet habits of my children…just one more and then I’ll get on with it.
When teaching my children to wipe their butts I had to eventually only allow them 8 squares at a time. Reason being is that after finding softball size wads of toilet paper in toilet and having to figure out how to clean it all up….and not just one ball…THREE!…Surrounded in pooh.
I’m so amazing, skilled at a level so high dealing with concerns of boys and toilets! I didn’t get any pooh on me or anything else and I saved the ‘Softballs’ from drowning in the sewer…or just clogging my toilet even more.
I’ve been all over the world.
Thankfully I was well schooled in foreign toilets at a young age. Most Americans when traveling abroad though end up partaking in the puzzlement that many have to address…
..where is the toilet?
That’s just a hole in the ground.
Which way do I face?
<—————This style toilet is common all over the world
They are convenient and I feel very sanitary.
You squat above them and do your business…your ass cheeks never touching where another’s ass cheek has sat.
I love bidets!
If you have ever been to South America (or Spain…:/...) and forgotten to ask for…
…”No, heilo.” when ordering your sangria…
You would love a bidet also the way I do. They clean the nastiest areas that are being tortured by their constant use… prolific diarrhea is no fun and the constant wiping of your already chafed bum sucks ass…and not in the good ass suckin’ kinda way. (I’m sorry, I HAD to put that in there!)
See that control panel on the left?——————————>
If you want your seat heater on you can do it from there.
If you would like to hear birds chirping you can just press a button.
When you are done you press a different button and this plastic tube with holes on the top emerges from the back (inside the bowl) and you now have your bidet built into the toilet!
Many of them even have REMOTE controls.
If you want to get me something for Christmas I would LOVE a good Japanese toilet!
Friday, January 14, 2011
The interpretation of words
I am very attached to my Spyder. Spyder is my nickname for my phone. When I have a message it sounds like little electronic spiders running all over the place. It is also what I use to weave my web…
When it rings Madonna’s, ‘Like it or not’ plays. If you are on the calling end you hear Rihanna’s, ‘Only girl in the world.’How many times have you gotten an e-mail or text, read it, and thought to yourself…
…’Awwww.'
or
…'What the hell?’
or
…’Cool.’
or
…’What an ass.'
...and then found out later the joke was on you because you completely misinterpreted it?
It could be as simple as something that happened to me the other day…
I’m hangin’ out with one of my friends. F3 (forgive me F3) calls me. F3 calls me more than she texts me, she’s lovely and ‘old school’.
I did NOT answer the phone.
I don’t always answer my phone when it rings. I have exceptions though.
I will explain to you about my phone answering ROE (rules of engagement).
If I’m with a group or one person I will look at my phone, see who it is. I won’t answer it though because I find it rude to talk on the phone in front of friends. Depending on who it is I might text them back…
something like...
...'busy, call ya back later’
or
…’What’s up?’ (Oooppppssss…that one was a mistake that I’ll come back to.)
I will answer it if I am with my friends and it is one of our mutual friends. That way we can all do the very immature…
…”WHazzzzzz Upppppppp!”
I always answer calls from unknown numbers or the 000 area code. I know who that is.
If I’m alone, and reach the phone I’ll answer. Due to my hobble these days I often don’t reach it in time and I call back RIGHT AWAY!
If I am shopping I will SO answer my phone. I love the way people scowl at me and my amazingly NOT so witty conversations. When they look at me I feel like I am the center of their attention…I love attention….all kinds.
Ok back to F3.
We had an assembly at the school all our children attend this morning. After it was finished we decided to head to the Man Buffet, you know, I love it there at Chipotle. It was only F2, F3 and myself.
We sat down at a four top, me facing the door. My purse was hanging on my chair, my Spyder was in it.
We are chatting about all sorts of things.
F3 tells me she was very upset at me the other day when I texted her after she called me.
It was Wednesday, this is the text event…
F3 calls…I don’t answer and I tell my friend I am with…
…”Im sorry, I need to text her, cause I don’t want to have a long conversation with her in front of you.”
My text... ‘What’s up?’
F3 text…’Nothing just saying hi’
My text…’;)’
I see her later at school pick up and hug her as soon as I see her and I tell her…
…”I’m sorry I didn’t answer, I was with a friend.”
Fast forward to today, 11:52, Chipotle.
F3…”I was really mad at you for not answering your phone.”
Me…”I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to talk in front of my friend.”
F3…”Yeah, but you can text while we are at lunch in front of me…the whole time.”
I wish you could hear her voice…I can as I type…she was really mad at me. With every right.
I felt like an ASS!
I have a problem. My relationship with Spyder is the ONLY normal relationship that I have.
F2 chimes in…
…”What did you text her?”
and I told her…the very brief event that it was.
F3…”Yes but that 'nothing' was more like ….’NOTHING'!”
Me…”I didn’t hear that when I read it. You know I’m sorry.”
F3…”I’m over it, don’t worry.”
Me…”I love you.”
F3…”I love you too.”
F2…”I can’t let go of things. I would hold a grudge!”
She’s being honest.
I didn’t know she was mad at me till two and a half days later. She is very forgiving though and I should NOT text when in front of friends.
That one will be difficult. I see MASS failure on my part!
Now on to something that has nothing to do with the above story…:)it was just a really funny conversation.
Blah, blah, blah with a yada or two thrown in and we start talking about the whole new Astrology chart design…and a couple other things..
F3…”You really have gone wild lately.”
She tells me this all the time.
Me…”No, it just looks that way because I am free.”
A domesticated pig that escapes from it’s confines becomes feral in a matter of months. Their hair grows long they eat everything in site and grow tusks…
Me…”Oh, I just thought of something really funny. In Chinese Astrology I was born in the year of the Boar…I guess that makes me a FERAL PIG!”
Except I like to keep my hair neatly groomed.
I didn’t grow tusks, just invisible horns.
...and I will not disgrace myself by eating everything in site.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
What a woman wants…?! I’m so confused.
Well, maybe it’s what I want…
I’m not in your brain. Hell, I can hardly stand going into mine as it confounds me at times and I am confused enough already.
If you read my blog, you know I am interested in world domination. (There is no question mark here.)
To be single and have as many pretend boyfriends that I want? (There is a question mark today, tomorrow I might want to remove it.)
I like being single I won’t renounce this.
I enjoy watching what I want on MY T.V. If I want to leave the dishes till the morning I don’t want someone standing behind, judging my housekeeping skills, or lack there of. (Oh, you mean you don’t know how to do dishes?)
I adore staying up as late as I want. (Which is never really that late, but the option is there now.)
I cherish the thought of a COLD sandwich for dinner once in awhile and not having to cook a hot meal every night no matter what is on the schedule.
I miss talking about daily events, discussing stories in the newspapers after being read….and as I complain above about hot meals everyday….I miss cooking for someone that thinks I have talent, albeit only a little, in that arena.
Since the big D. I have been happier than ever. I have also noticed that I haven’t lost all hope in the being that is male, but it is some sketchy shit. I’m glad I am an artist and can make something of this once in awhile.
If I have issues though it’s me, I know it.
I have come to the point that having dude like tendencies makes things easier. There is less drama, no tears and no expectations.
As I type this out my eyes are dry and my heart impenetrable. I think I was given a magical suit or armor, unknowingly sometime years ago to get through the ‘bad times’…..years and years ago.
My dude like tendencies…
I look like a girl.
but….
I have short hair. I am not ashamed to be SEEN.
I treat men like they treat women. (If this pains you forgive me please, it keeps ME safe.)
This actually will hurt some of the men I know…but I am the center of the Universe for it is infinite…
I truly try to understand men and emulate how they act. They make it seem so easy.
Is it really that easy? Yes, I have found it is. Horrible right?
I know some men though that are much more sensitive than me, caring, loving…yada, yada, yada. I really feel like a dude when I talk to them. I love them and wish I could be as caring as them.
All being said when a man meets a woman he immediately puts her in a place in his life, friend, fuck buddy, lover, potential lifetime partner.
Bethany (from Real Housewives of NY)…”A hole is a hole, even in the dark.”
I swear it’s the motto of almost every man I know. If we understand this as women we know what we mean to them and it makes it easier to understand the place we belong in their lives…until further notice that is.
I said "ALMOST”!…it is not all.
My very good friend posted this as her FB status today….
…"Behind the story I tell is the one I don’t…behind the story you hear is the one I wish I could make you hear.”- Dorothy Alliso
Can you hear me?
I’m not a dude.
I love flowers,
La Perla...
A compliment may go farther than you can imagine!
(Married friends….keep it alive! Don’t screw it up and pay attention to each other!)
As to what I want.
I have no clue. It’s not about things…I do know that my relationships are so dysfunctional it’s silly, not in the funny way.
I’m not in your brain. Hell, I can hardly stand going into mine as it confounds me at times and I am confused enough already.
If you read my blog, you know I am interested in world domination. (There is no question mark here.)
To be single and have as many pretend boyfriends that I want? (There is a question mark today, tomorrow I might want to remove it.)
I like being single I won’t renounce this.
I enjoy watching what I want on MY T.V. If I want to leave the dishes till the morning I don’t want someone standing behind, judging my housekeeping skills, or lack there of. (Oh, you mean you don’t know how to do dishes?)
I adore staying up as late as I want. (Which is never really that late, but the option is there now.)
I cherish the thought of a COLD sandwich for dinner once in awhile and not having to cook a hot meal every night no matter what is on the schedule.
I miss talking about daily events, discussing stories in the newspapers after being read….and as I complain above about hot meals everyday….I miss cooking for someone that thinks I have talent, albeit only a little, in that arena.
Since the big D. I have been happier than ever. I have also noticed that I haven’t lost all hope in the being that is male, but it is some sketchy shit. I’m glad I am an artist and can make something of this once in awhile.
If I have issues though it’s me, I know it.
I have come to the point that having dude like tendencies makes things easier. There is less drama, no tears and no expectations.
As I type this out my eyes are dry and my heart impenetrable. I think I was given a magical suit or armor, unknowingly sometime years ago to get through the ‘bad times’…..years and years ago.
My dude like tendencies…
I look like a girl.
but….
I have short hair. I am not ashamed to be SEEN.
I treat men like they treat women. (If this pains you forgive me please, it keeps ME safe.)
This actually will hurt some of the men I know…but I am the center of the Universe for it is infinite…
I truly try to understand men and emulate how they act. They make it seem so easy.
Is it really that easy? Yes, I have found it is. Horrible right?
I know some men though that are much more sensitive than me, caring, loving…yada, yada, yada. I really feel like a dude when I talk to them. I love them and wish I could be as caring as them.
All being said when a man meets a woman he immediately puts her in a place in his life, friend, fuck buddy, lover, potential lifetime partner.
Bethany (from Real Housewives of NY)…”A hole is a hole, even in the dark.”
I swear it’s the motto of almost every man I know. If we understand this as women we know what we mean to them and it makes it easier to understand the place we belong in their lives…until further notice that is.
I said "ALMOST”!…it is not all.
My very good friend posted this as her FB status today….
…"Behind the story I tell is the one I don’t…behind the story you hear is the one I wish I could make you hear.”- Dorothy Alliso
Can you hear me?
I’m not a dude.
I love flowers,
La Perla...
A compliment may go farther than you can imagine!
(Married friends….keep it alive! Don’t screw it up and pay attention to each other!)
As to what I want.
I have no clue. It’s not about things…I do know that my relationships are so dysfunctional it’s silly, not in the funny way.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Henka
Henka, is the Japanese word for change. Maybe a better translation would be to be able to change direction, a 180 if you will in your mind.
If you know any women….Ahhhh, I need not say more;)
I started my change while living in Japan…turning a 180…it just took me years to get all the way back to where I needed to be.
I don’t know where this blog is going at this moment. I just feel a need to type it out as I see fit. I don’t know if it’s going to be a history lesson, a small one for I have limited knowledge, or just my reminiscing of learning to be my self again and/or the fun times I had there.
I lived in Japan for several years. It wasn’t main land Japan. It was one of the poorest prefectures of Japan, the Ryukyu Island of Okinawa. I was but one of the many Americans that live/lived there. It’s a beautiful island, sort of the Key West of Japan. It’s hot, humid and a lush play ground for the habu…a very poisonous snake that likes to hang in trees and attack unsuspecting passers. The waters clear as my thoughts as I watch the sunrise.
The people of Okinawa are different from those on the main land. They are a mix, like us Americans, a melting pot of their own. They have darker skin and their facial features are unique and distinct from the Main Landers.
My Father was on Okinawa, as a Marine, before the Americans gave control back to the Japanese government.
My Dad is cool like that….in all the cool places, doing all the cool things;)
Anyway….
Living there, as all the other places I have been and lived, gave me a different perspective on the people. One you can only get by living amongst them.
Being defeated, overrun and at one point decimated….
We all know on December 7th, 1941 over 500 Japanese fighters and bombers attacked Pearl Harbor killing more than 200 Americans.
We were not at war yet…but World War II had begun as we stood by…BABAM….
December 11, Germany and Italy declare war on the US.
The Battle of Okinawa, Operation Iceburg, had over 250,000 lives lost, over 150,000 civilians. That is a lot of civilian lives. The war ended with us of course...having the last word in Nagasaki and Hiroshima.
It is a small island of farmers, women and children. It is a place I called home, the people my friends.
There were moments though I could see hate in their eyes, as drove my Y plated Van around, shopping, eating and site seeing.
Side note…I wonder why President Truman chose only Japan to drop the bombs and not Germany? Was it because we had so many allied soldiers in the area? Do you think that maybe the Japanese are insulted that it was them and only them? That President Truman couldn’t drop the bomb on Germany because as an American and as a melting pot of our own, they were to much like us?
Just thoughts…..
It was a fine line you walk as an American citizen there and I tried very hard to respect the people of the Island.
…I did party like a rock star sometimes…
Gate Two street was nothing like Vegas but had the same mental concept. The mental concept of a bunch of adults behaving like 22 year olds, drinking, dancing and singing all night long. Not noticing that time has passed by and you walk out of a club or Karaoke bar and hints of sunlight are streaking their way through the negative space of the concrete playground. There was the ‘snake lady’ (I’ll leave that there for your naughty imagination. Ok, go farther into the gutter, oh, baby, you are still not there! Think change and bananas...)… The Philippino karaoke bar with the co-bathroom with a stall and a urinal. Inevitably I would go pee and there was always some guy with his wanker out reliving himself. Joy, joy, joy!
Some ‘nights’ I would find myself out a great deal later than was expected…AKA…
…”Holy shit! it’s 6?”…that would be in the AM.
Sunabe or the 'sea wall' was my enemy at these times…and my friends that I hung out with. We pushed each other to go longer, farther…stay out later. Trouble with a capital T! Yeah…the XO’s spouse, mother of three…:/ it was not looked on highly.
I had a friend, C, she would help me out on Wednesdays all day and Friday nights. I loved C, still do actually. A lot of people had ‘Mamasans’ I didn’t, I had C! She knew everything about me, when my cycle was, where my underwear was kept and that I am a total slob. She knew how to make my children laugh and loves them, still…I don’t think she knows how much I love her, still to this day! C, would show up on Wednesday mornings at 10am and I would head out and be back at 4. Friday night (or I should say sometime Saturday morning I would come home, house immaculate, laundry folded, ironed and put away. Poor C would be sleeping on my sofa. She is so forgiving and loving. Thank you C!
Wednesdays was my time. Me time.
I didn’t hang out with friends…unless the me, myself and I can be counted. The ‘holy trinity’ that is Kristin;)
I would go to StarBucks in the ‘American Village’, sipping on what ever coffee drink I picked that day, sitting, watching the Japanese women, studying what they were wearing, how they acted and walked. I studied those women like they were my heros. I already had my own walk and my own style, but I admired their un-canny ‘chichi’. Some of their outfits were a bit out of whack I’ll confess. Their love of stilettos I understood.
I would meander through shops, looking at the strangest things, trying to figure out what they were! Or I would head to Cocok’s and get the GREATEST pedicure a woman could receive. An hour of heat and massage and hand painted art on each toe nail, for $30. An hour later I would head to lunch…restaurants galore to choose from…
The Japanese don’t cook a lot. They maybe have 2 burners and this tiny oven that you could probably broil a small filet of fish in. Restaurants are all over the place, and all sorts of kinds. The San A or even the connivence store on the corner had decent food to go. The Sushi Go-Arounds were immaculate and yummy. (Some times if I just wanted a snack, I would head to one, and just grab a little bite.)
The Restaurants where diverse. Some were traditional, taking your shoes off when entering and sitting on tatami mats. Others were fast food, Mos Burger…they had these pressed rice patties that served as ‘buns’ and had stir fry meat between the two, absolutely DE-LICI-OUS!
In the very Okinawan restaurants they would have shelves along the walls, on them were ceramic jugs. Each one designated to a person, filled with your favorite kind of Awamori. Awamori is like sake. My favorite kind is Black Zampa. It’s a bit reminiscent to moon shine for some, but I love it. They would serve it with a glass of ice and a pitcher of water…I always skipped the water.
I had SO many favorite restaurants its hard to name and remember them all: The Barrel, Transit Cafe, the Garlic Restaurant, Coco Iichbanya, Sam’s By The Sea, Sushi Go-arounds to name a few…
Transit Cafe in Sunabe…If I wasn’t taking a cab and had to drive, finding a parking place was difficult and dangerous, when you did find one you prayed when parallel parking one of your tires didn’t fall into the binjo ditch. Walking up a slender stair case to be greeted by white stucco walls and a modern interior. The owner standing behind the bar ‘yelling’, “Irashaimase!”
I loved sitting outside, listening to the waves crash against the sea wall. I always ordered the same things…Melted brie cheese served with french bread to dip and Tuna, corn and mayonnaise pizza. It sounds gross if you have never had it, but it was daring and palatable. I of course added Tabasco sauce to it. Tabasco sauce was everywhere.
The only thing I think was hard to find was sour cream…I think they thought Sour cream was poison, not sure.
OHhhhhhhh……Coco Ichibanya…A Japanese curry house. It was fast and tasty.
You pick what you want, and how spicy you want it. Depending on time of day and the events of the previous evening I ordered my meal. If it was a regular day, Eggplant, level 5. If it was 4am or lunch the day after and I had a hangover it would be fried pork cutlet level 7….with a mango lassi, to cool the heat.
Sam’s By The Sea...I actually lived on the same street as Sam’s when I first moved there. It was less than a hop, skip and jump away. Tiki torches welcoming you and the servers with blue and white sailor style uniforms. The curry soup bewildered my taste buds. I think everything I ate there I loved. It was a more Hawaiian inspired place, I still loved it. The music the tropical infused drinks.
I didn’t even get into the 100 yen store, my friends, the Roxbury….the memories….
Since this blog turned into me reminiscing I would like to try to bring it full circle…
Emperor Hirohito, the word ‘henka’ and the change in me…and the Japanese people.
August 15th, 1945 was the first time the Japanese people had really heard the voice of their Emperor, as he surrendered. 2.3 million soldiers 800,000 civilians dead later. He directed the people of Japan to change their minds. After all the hostility, the horrors, can you envision the repulsion they must have felt at being defeated? (I am aware they ‘started’ it). The Emperor told them to do a 180….
….Did Henka rub off on me the moment I landed on the Island? Could I feel the desire of the lives lost and their need to fulfill their lost lives?
I really don’t know. I know they were ordered to change their mentality, from war to peace. Funny I seemed to have have changed my mind from peace to war…
If you know any women….Ahhhh, I need not say more;)
I started my change while living in Japan…turning a 180…it just took me years to get all the way back to where I needed to be.
I don’t know where this blog is going at this moment. I just feel a need to type it out as I see fit. I don’t know if it’s going to be a history lesson, a small one for I have limited knowledge, or just my reminiscing of learning to be my self again and/or the fun times I had there.
I lived in Japan for several years. It wasn’t main land Japan. It was one of the poorest prefectures of Japan, the Ryukyu Island of Okinawa. I was but one of the many Americans that live/lived there. It’s a beautiful island, sort of the Key West of Japan. It’s hot, humid and a lush play ground for the habu…a very poisonous snake that likes to hang in trees and attack unsuspecting passers. The waters clear as my thoughts as I watch the sunrise.
The people of Okinawa are different from those on the main land. They are a mix, like us Americans, a melting pot of their own. They have darker skin and their facial features are unique and distinct from the Main Landers.
My Father was on Okinawa, as a Marine, before the Americans gave control back to the Japanese government.
My Dad is cool like that….in all the cool places, doing all the cool things;)
Anyway….
Living there, as all the other places I have been and lived, gave me a different perspective on the people. One you can only get by living amongst them.
Being defeated, overrun and at one point decimated….
We all know on December 7th, 1941 over 500 Japanese fighters and bombers attacked Pearl Harbor killing more than 200 Americans.
We were not at war yet…but World War II had begun as we stood by…BABAM….
December 11, Germany and Italy declare war on the US.
The Battle of Okinawa, Operation Iceburg, had over 250,000 lives lost, over 150,000 civilians. That is a lot of civilian lives. The war ended with us of course...having the last word in Nagasaki and Hiroshima.
It is a small island of farmers, women and children. It is a place I called home, the people my friends.
There were moments though I could see hate in their eyes, as drove my Y plated Van around, shopping, eating and site seeing.
Side note…I wonder why President Truman chose only Japan to drop the bombs and not Germany? Was it because we had so many allied soldiers in the area? Do you think that maybe the Japanese are insulted that it was them and only them? That President Truman couldn’t drop the bomb on Germany because as an American and as a melting pot of our own, they were to much like us?
Just thoughts…..
It was a fine line you walk as an American citizen there and I tried very hard to respect the people of the Island.
…I did party like a rock star sometimes…
Gate Two street was nothing like Vegas but had the same mental concept. The mental concept of a bunch of adults behaving like 22 year olds, drinking, dancing and singing all night long. Not noticing that time has passed by and you walk out of a club or Karaoke bar and hints of sunlight are streaking their way through the negative space of the concrete playground. There was the ‘snake lady’ (I’ll leave that there for your naughty imagination. Ok, go farther into the gutter, oh, baby, you are still not there! Think change and bananas...)… The Philippino karaoke bar with the co-bathroom with a stall and a urinal. Inevitably I would go pee and there was always some guy with his wanker out reliving himself. Joy, joy, joy!
Some ‘nights’ I would find myself out a great deal later than was expected…AKA…
…”Holy shit! it’s 6?”…that would be in the AM.
Sunabe or the 'sea wall' was my enemy at these times…and my friends that I hung out with. We pushed each other to go longer, farther…stay out later. Trouble with a capital T! Yeah…the XO’s spouse, mother of three…:/ it was not looked on highly.
I had a friend, C, she would help me out on Wednesdays all day and Friday nights. I loved C, still do actually. A lot of people had ‘Mamasans’ I didn’t, I had C! She knew everything about me, when my cycle was, where my underwear was kept and that I am a total slob. She knew how to make my children laugh and loves them, still…I don’t think she knows how much I love her, still to this day! C, would show up on Wednesday mornings at 10am and I would head out and be back at 4. Friday night (or I should say sometime Saturday morning I would come home, house immaculate, laundry folded, ironed and put away. Poor C would be sleeping on my sofa. She is so forgiving and loving. Thank you C!
Wednesdays was my time. Me time.
I didn’t hang out with friends…unless the me, myself and I can be counted. The ‘holy trinity’ that is Kristin;)
I would go to StarBucks in the ‘American Village’, sipping on what ever coffee drink I picked that day, sitting, watching the Japanese women, studying what they were wearing, how they acted and walked. I studied those women like they were my heros. I already had my own walk and my own style, but I admired their un-canny ‘chichi’. Some of their outfits were a bit out of whack I’ll confess. Their love of stilettos I understood.I would meander through shops, looking at the strangest things, trying to figure out what they were! Or I would head to Cocok’s and get the GREATEST pedicure a woman could receive. An hour of heat and massage and hand painted art on each toe nail, for $30. An hour later I would head to lunch…restaurants galore to choose from…
The Japanese don’t cook a lot. They maybe have 2 burners and this tiny oven that you could probably broil a small filet of fish in. Restaurants are all over the place, and all sorts of kinds. The San A or even the connivence store on the corner had decent food to go. The Sushi Go-Arounds were immaculate and yummy. (Some times if I just wanted a snack, I would head to one, and just grab a little bite.)
The Restaurants where diverse. Some were traditional, taking your shoes off when entering and sitting on tatami mats. Others were fast food, Mos Burger…they had these pressed rice patties that served as ‘buns’ and had stir fry meat between the two, absolutely DE-LICI-OUS!
I had SO many favorite restaurants its hard to name and remember them all: The Barrel, Transit Cafe, the Garlic Restaurant, Coco Iichbanya, Sam’s By The Sea, Sushi Go-arounds to name a few…
Transit Cafe in Sunabe…If I wasn’t taking a cab and had to drive, finding a parking place was difficult and dangerous, when you did find one you prayed when parallel parking one of your tires didn’t fall into the binjo ditch. Walking up a slender stair case to be greeted by white stucco walls and a modern interior. The owner standing behind the bar ‘yelling’, “Irashaimase!”
I loved sitting outside, listening to the waves crash against the sea wall. I always ordered the same things…Melted brie cheese served with french bread to dip and Tuna, corn and mayonnaise pizza. It sounds gross if you have never had it, but it was daring and palatable. I of course added Tabasco sauce to it. Tabasco sauce was everywhere.
The only thing I think was hard to find was sour cream…I think they thought Sour cream was poison, not sure.
OHhhhhhhh……Coco Ichibanya…A Japanese curry house. It was fast and tasty.You pick what you want, and how spicy you want it. Depending on time of day and the events of the previous evening I ordered my meal. If it was a regular day, Eggplant, level 5. If it was 4am or lunch the day after and I had a hangover it would be fried pork cutlet level 7….with a mango lassi, to cool the heat.
Sam’s By The Sea...I actually lived on the same street as Sam’s when I first moved there. It was less than a hop, skip and jump away. Tiki torches welcoming you and the servers with blue and white sailor style uniforms. The curry soup bewildered my taste buds. I think everything I ate there I loved. It was a more Hawaiian inspired place, I still loved it. The music the tropical infused drinks.
I didn’t even get into the 100 yen store, my friends, the Roxbury….the memories….
Since this blog turned into me reminiscing I would like to try to bring it full circle…
Emperor Hirohito, the word ‘henka’ and the change in me…and the Japanese people.
August 15th, 1945 was the first time the Japanese people had really heard the voice of their Emperor, as he surrendered. 2.3 million soldiers 800,000 civilians dead later. He directed the people of Japan to change their minds. After all the hostility, the horrors, can you envision the repulsion they must have felt at being defeated? (I am aware they ‘started’ it). The Emperor told them to do a 180….
….Did Henka rub off on me the moment I landed on the Island? Could I feel the desire of the lives lost and their need to fulfill their lost lives?
I really don’t know. I know they were ordered to change their mentality, from war to peace. Funny I seemed to have have changed my mind from peace to war…
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Acid and Base
NO…I am not talking about the music which blares from my cool minivan as I drive around. My woofer under my front passenger seat making the windows in the vehicle next to mine vibrating obnoxiously. Their heads turning back and forth looking for the lowered Impala with neon lights mounted under it. No, it’s me…not some kid.
I am actually talking about cooking and marinading meats, asian style today.
I like to have stuff ready when I want it. I enjoy cooking on the fly too, but the convenience of grabbing a freezer zip lock bag filled with strips of chicken, pork or beef already in a marinade is easy.
When I am at the grocery store and I see some kind of meat on sale, makes no difference what kind, I’ll buy it. At home I’ll cut it into even strips and/or cubes and think of what I want them to be-ish at a later date.
I have a fully stocked pantry and fridge of all the things I know I want/need to have. Spices galore, from whole seed to already ground. I know you might not have what I have, but you might want it one day.
A few ingredients to have on hand….
Caveat-these are easy things to find these days don’t get scared...
Soy Sauce, 2 kinds regular and sweet.
Sherry, I buy a big cheap bottle with a handle. This is the only time I will tell you to use a wine you won’t drink to cook with.
Rice Wine Vinegar
Fish Sauce
Sesame Oil
Worcestershire Sauce (which is made from tamarind, I like tamarind)
Orange Juice
Ketchup (Ancient Chinese secret ingredient)
Black Bean paste
Dashi
Brown Sugar
Sugar
Cornstarch
Sesame seeds
Limes
Fresh Ginger root
Garlic
Onions
Cilantro
Basil
and if you like it spicy
Sambal Oelek
Sriracha
Our goal here is to create ‘umami’.
…and since I LOVE history and science, you will also get a history lesson…and a bit of a science one as well…
So a long time ago, not a galaxy far away…just a long time ago…There were philosophers who, well, who thought and thought, and came to conclusions. They wrote stories and poetry…and about how many things a human can taste.
Aristotle and Plato came up with four things: Sweet, salty, sour and bitter.
Now for some more time travel…forward into the late 1800’s…
Two guys almost at the same time but oceans apart, one French Chef, Escoffier and another a Japanese chemist, Ikeda created and tasted, respectively, something different than the four flavors people had come to accept.
Glutamate…Glutamic acic…Umami…(MSG)…L-Gluatamine
To all those hyper sensitive types…studies have shown that there are NO ADVERSE side affects to MSG…it’s all in your head.
For those of you that want to argue with me…don’t bother, please read the Dilbert comic strip below. (I’m Dilbert)
Ok, so let talk about L-Glutamine. Glutamate is in pretty much in anything that lives. When things die, organic matter breaks down and the glutamate molecule breaks apart.
Glutamate becomes L-glutamate with the break down of the molecule…and there you have your ‘yummy’, or Umami.
When we cook a stock down, we are breaking apart molecules, creating MORE flavor. Fermentation and aging does the same thing.
When we marinade meat and cook it we are doing the same thing…
All those ingredients I listed above are a ‘bit’ pick and choose-ish. There are a few rules though.
You want the sweet, salty, bitter, sour…we bring out the Umami.
Let’s say we are working with 1lb of already cut up meat.
All the recipes below start with...
1Tbs Ginger. To get it ready, ‘peel’ it with a spoon the grate it. (Please, real ginger, not powdered…unless you are cooking at your friends, forgot yours and all you have is ground.)
1 Large Garlic clove, crushed and chopped. You can add more if you want...
1/4 C Soy Sauce, either kind
1/4 C Sherry
1Tbs ketchup
A splash of Oj
A Dash of Worcestershire Sauce
1 tsp Cornstarch
1tsp sugar
if you want something a little different
Add 1Tbs Black bean paste as well
Spicy…add 1Tbs Sriracha or Sabal Oelek
or
if you want something more Thai-ish
Same amounts of ginger and garlic
1/4 C Soy Sauce
1/4 Lime Juice
1Tbs Fish Sauce
1Tbs Brown sugar
1 tsp Cornstarch
2Tbs Chopped Cilantro (even if it’s going in the freezer, you will also add more later)
When you are ready to stir fry it add 1Tbs of chopped Basil and another of Cilantro.
or
if you want something more Korean
Same ginger amounts, a bit more garlic…
1/4 C Soy Sauce
1/4 Cup Sherry
1 Tbs Brwn Sugar
1 tsp cornstarch
A dash of Worcestershire Sauce
1tsp Sesame Oil
1tsp Sesame seeds
Or, more Japanese
The ginger and garlic and soy
1/4 Rice Wine Vinegar
1Tbs Worcestershire Sauce
1tsp Dashi
If you are opposed to using alcohol for any reason, you can use Rice Wine vinegar. (It’s the acid you need to break down the protein…all the acids listed above just have different flavors)
I think you get the gist and ease of all this.
When it’s time to cook, thaw in fridge for the day. Slice up what ever veggies you have on hand…I also like to add more ginger and garlic at this point, 1/2 an onion…
Some ideas
carrots, celery, butternut squash, pumpkin, eggplant, sweet potato, bamboo shoots (from a can is fine), zucchini …it doesn’t matter…pick and choose!
To a hot pan add 1Tbs veg oil and saute, onion till limp then add ginger and lastly garlic (Be careful garlic burns fast!) dump entire pack of thawed meat and juice to pan. Saute for about 4 min. (this is sketchy, I just eye it.) Move the meat to the sides of pan and add veggies…cook till veggies are tender crisp… Add 1Tbs of Cornstarch mixed with water to make a paste. Add and stir.
Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy
Serve with rice…or noodles
I am actually talking about cooking and marinading meats, asian style today.
I like to have stuff ready when I want it. I enjoy cooking on the fly too, but the convenience of grabbing a freezer zip lock bag filled with strips of chicken, pork or beef already in a marinade is easy.
When I am at the grocery store and I see some kind of meat on sale, makes no difference what kind, I’ll buy it. At home I’ll cut it into even strips and/or cubes and think of what I want them to be-ish at a later date.
I have a fully stocked pantry and fridge of all the things I know I want/need to have. Spices galore, from whole seed to already ground. I know you might not have what I have, but you might want it one day.
A few ingredients to have on hand….
Caveat-these are easy things to find these days don’t get scared...
Soy Sauce, 2 kinds regular and sweet.
Sherry, I buy a big cheap bottle with a handle. This is the only time I will tell you to use a wine you won’t drink to cook with.
Rice Wine Vinegar
Fish Sauce
Sesame Oil
Worcestershire Sauce (which is made from tamarind, I like tamarind)
Orange Juice
Ketchup (Ancient Chinese secret ingredient)
Black Bean paste
Dashi
Brown Sugar
Sugar
Cornstarch
Sesame seeds
Limes
Fresh Ginger root
Garlic
Onions
Cilantro
Basil
and if you like it spicy
Sambal Oelek
Sriracha
Our goal here is to create ‘umami’.
…and since I LOVE history and science, you will also get a history lesson…and a bit of a science one as well…
So a long time ago, not a galaxy far away…just a long time ago…There were philosophers who, well, who thought and thought, and came to conclusions. They wrote stories and poetry…and about how many things a human can taste.
Aristotle and Plato came up with four things: Sweet, salty, sour and bitter.
Now for some more time travel…forward into the late 1800’s…
Two guys almost at the same time but oceans apart, one French Chef, Escoffier and another a Japanese chemist, Ikeda created and tasted, respectively, something different than the four flavors people had come to accept.
Glutamate…Glutamic acic…Umami…(MSG)…L-Gluatamine
To all those hyper sensitive types…studies have shown that there are NO ADVERSE side affects to MSG…it’s all in your head.
For those of you that want to argue with me…don’t bother, please read the Dilbert comic strip below. (I’m Dilbert)
Ok, so let talk about L-Glutamine. Glutamate is in pretty much in anything that lives. When things die, organic matter breaks down and the glutamate molecule breaks apart.
Glutamate becomes L-glutamate with the break down of the molecule…and there you have your ‘yummy’, or Umami.
When we cook a stock down, we are breaking apart molecules, creating MORE flavor. Fermentation and aging does the same thing.
When we marinade meat and cook it we are doing the same thing…
All those ingredients I listed above are a ‘bit’ pick and choose-ish. There are a few rules though.
You want the sweet, salty, bitter, sour…we bring out the Umami.
Let’s say we are working with 1lb of already cut up meat.
All the recipes below start with...
1Tbs Ginger. To get it ready, ‘peel’ it with a spoon the grate it. (Please, real ginger, not powdered…unless you are cooking at your friends, forgot yours and all you have is ground.)
1 Large Garlic clove, crushed and chopped. You can add more if you want...
1/4 C Soy Sauce, either kind
1/4 C Sherry
1Tbs ketchup
A splash of Oj
A Dash of Worcestershire Sauce
1 tsp Cornstarch
1tsp sugar
if you want something a little different
Add 1Tbs Black bean paste as well
Spicy…add 1Tbs Sriracha or Sabal Oelek
or
if you want something more Thai-ish
Same amounts of ginger and garlic
1/4 C Soy Sauce
1/4 Lime Juice
1Tbs Fish Sauce
1Tbs Brown sugar
1 tsp Cornstarch
2Tbs Chopped Cilantro (even if it’s going in the freezer, you will also add more later)
When you are ready to stir fry it add 1Tbs of chopped Basil and another of Cilantro.
or
if you want something more Korean
Same ginger amounts, a bit more garlic…
1/4 C Soy Sauce
1/4 Cup Sherry
1 Tbs Brwn Sugar
1 tsp cornstarch
A dash of Worcestershire Sauce
1tsp Sesame Oil
1tsp Sesame seeds
Or, more Japanese
The ginger and garlic and soy
1/4 Rice Wine Vinegar
1Tbs Worcestershire Sauce
1tsp Dashi
If you are opposed to using alcohol for any reason, you can use Rice Wine vinegar. (It’s the acid you need to break down the protein…all the acids listed above just have different flavors)
I think you get the gist and ease of all this.
When it’s time to cook, thaw in fridge for the day. Slice up what ever veggies you have on hand…I also like to add more ginger and garlic at this point, 1/2 an onion…
Some ideas
carrots, celery, butternut squash, pumpkin, eggplant, sweet potato, bamboo shoots (from a can is fine), zucchini …it doesn’t matter…pick and choose!
To a hot pan add 1Tbs veg oil and saute, onion till limp then add ginger and lastly garlic (Be careful garlic burns fast!) dump entire pack of thawed meat and juice to pan. Saute for about 4 min. (this is sketchy, I just eye it.) Move the meat to the sides of pan and add veggies…cook till veggies are tender crisp… Add 1Tbs of Cornstarch mixed with water to make a paste. Add and stir.
Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy
Serve with rice…or noodles
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Layers of flavor
Some of my friends are amazing cooks. I love going to their houses. Walking in the aromas wafting through the air make me feel at home. One of my friends is Italian and she makes some bangin’ red sauce. Another friend of mine is from Alabama. Her husband is a very lucky man; when he puts his fork to his mouth and on it is balancing tender roast and bits of rice, or an aromatic creole dish, oh, how I envy him. I have yet another friend that I used to cook with to help my Mom out for her Holiday Open Houses. We would have a blast planning. OH... How I love and miss her pound cakes.
I have other friends that HATE cooking, it’s a chore for them.
When I talk about food it brings me joy. It’s a subject I know about and want to learn more about. Everyone likes talking about things they understand. I’m not ever going to argue with you about the bible, but I will have a fist fight over the many uses of anchovies.
When I cook I want to create layers of flavor.
I love anchovies. I cook with them all the time. They add a depth of flavor to sauces. I’ll saute onions and garlic in olive oil then add 2 anchovies, they melt into goo. You have just started making the beginnings of a great sauce.
Pureed Solid canned tuna, a couple anchovies, a tablespoon of capers and some olive oil…an amazing spread or dip.
I also love those anchovies so much I will stand there in my kitchen and finish off the rest of said anchovies…Cat like tendencies again.
Fresh herbs are a main stay in my ‘fridge.
When I’m making a sauce…almost any kind of sauce I’ll add herbs at different times. The fresh ones are last.
Keeping fresh herbs in your fridge is something that many people don’t do. They think it’s a waste of money. A recipe calls for, lets say a couple Tablespoons of fresh parsley, they decide to use dried because they think the fresh it will rot in the crisper before than can use it all.
I’m here to help you.
When buying and storing herbs make sure you look in the middle of them to see if there are any dark bits that might be the beginnings of rot. Rot begets rot. When you get them home don’t clean them till you need them. Place them stems down in a glass with shallow water. Place the clear plastic bag you brought them home in and loosely cover the herbs and glass. Place in fridge…walllaa! They will keep for quite a while…they are live plants.
I’m not denying you, or me for that matter the use of dried herbs. I use them all the time too. The fresh ones just add….HELLOOOO…a certain freshness to each dish.
I make a basil, garlic and olive oil mix that I keep and can uses in lots of stuff and is great on sandwiches, broiled for a bit;)
The juice of REAL lemons, limes and oranges…that stuff in the little plastic green lime looking thing…I have no idea what’s in there, but it doesn’t taste like lime juice to me. The same goes for ‘real lemon’ juice. It’s easy to keep a couple limes and lemons around in the crisper.
With Greek and Arabic dishes lemon juice is essential.
Thai food requires limes, real ones.
Fake stuff is well fake, unless we are talking about breasts…and then they are real, really theirs.
I have other friends that HATE cooking, it’s a chore for them.
When I talk about food it brings me joy. It’s a subject I know about and want to learn more about. Everyone likes talking about things they understand. I’m not ever going to argue with you about the bible, but I will have a fist fight over the many uses of anchovies.
When I cook I want to create layers of flavor.
I love anchovies. I cook with them all the time. They add a depth of flavor to sauces. I’ll saute onions and garlic in olive oil then add 2 anchovies, they melt into goo. You have just started making the beginnings of a great sauce.
Pureed Solid canned tuna, a couple anchovies, a tablespoon of capers and some olive oil…an amazing spread or dip.
I also love those anchovies so much I will stand there in my kitchen and finish off the rest of said anchovies…Cat like tendencies again.
When I’m making a sauce…almost any kind of sauce I’ll add herbs at different times. The fresh ones are last.
Keeping fresh herbs in your fridge is something that many people don’t do. They think it’s a waste of money. A recipe calls for, lets say a couple Tablespoons of fresh parsley, they decide to use dried because they think the fresh it will rot in the crisper before than can use it all.
I’m here to help you.
When buying and storing herbs make sure you look in the middle of them to see if there are any dark bits that might be the beginnings of rot. Rot begets rot. When you get them home don’t clean them till you need them. Place them stems down in a glass with shallow water. Place the clear plastic bag you brought them home in and loosely cover the herbs and glass. Place in fridge…walllaa! They will keep for quite a while…they are live plants.I’m not denying you, or me for that matter the use of dried herbs. I use them all the time too. The fresh ones just add….HELLOOOO…a certain freshness to each dish.
I make a basil, garlic and olive oil mix that I keep and can uses in lots of stuff and is great on sandwiches, broiled for a bit;)
The juice of REAL lemons, limes and oranges…that stuff in the little plastic green lime looking thing…I have no idea what’s in there, but it doesn’t taste like lime juice to me. The same goes for ‘real lemon’ juice. It’s easy to keep a couple limes and lemons around in the crisper.
With Greek and Arabic dishes lemon juice is essential.
Thai food requires limes, real ones.
Fake stuff is well fake, unless we are talking about breasts…and then they are real, really theirs.
The Dancer, part two-ish
Derek, was a musician and thought himself to be trendy, when actually he was just stuck in 1987. Derek thought the world revolved around him. The world though didn’t even know Derek was on the planet, and he walked around pissed off all the time. The look on his face at most waking moments of his day were, ‘fuck you.’
When she met him he wasn’t mean to her. That happened as the time they spent together grew. Back then his career was actually on the move. His band was doing well. He was passionate about everything. Maybe that’s what attracted Samantha to Derek, passion. He was handsome as well, boyish good looks and ice blue eyes. He was also ‘the badboy’ and she knew she always fell for the bad boy.
Samantha got into her red Civic, she hated being late and was already running behind schedule. As she drove through the melee that Atlanta traffic was memories replayed in her mind, vividly. The passion was there in every fiber of Derek’s being. They didn’t have some long courting, unless 2 days worth of texting could be considered long. Their first kiss was the first time he invited himself over. It was a Thursday and he was on his lunch break from his real job, the one that paid his rent. He walked in and they embraced before the door even shut. She made sure her ample yet firm breasts pressed against his chest as he grabbed her by the waist pulling her into him. His tongue parted her lips and she welcomed him into her mouth, their tongues danced in and out and around each others. He grabbed her hair and pulled back her head so he could kiss her neck. He nibbled gently on her. They took a moment and looked at each other and said, “hi.” Then continued with their crushing lock on one another. He moved behind her and slipped his hand into her pants…
There was no foreshadowing of the times to come.
She pulled into the parking lot near the back door. Scott, the head of security at the club, ran to help her out of her car. He knew she didn’t need help but was respectful of all the women that worked there. Scott looked like a mercenary, he was very muscular but moved quickly. The Marine Corps had never left him and he kept his hair high and tight. He was a professional and a gentleman, but if any of the guests even eyed one of his girls crookedly he was by their side. The girls safety was always first on his mind.
Scott looked down from his six foot three frame and noticed right away Samantha was wearing Jackie O sunglasses. He frowned and said, “I’ll beat the shit out of that jack ass!” Sam, replied, “No, I’ll deal with it, but thanks.” She smiled at him as tears welled up in her eyes and she blinked them back. He hugged her tightly, knowing it wasn’t the first and that meant it wouldn’t be the last. He walked her in then went back out to wait for the rest of the evening shift to arrive.
The rest of the night went on without a hitch, she danced her dance and they paid.
The next day Derek was still a no show and she was enjoying the quite. He was probably on his friends couch, mooching from someone else again. The phone rang, she hesitated to answer it and checked the number. It was an area code she didn’t recognize. She took a chance and answered it, lonely she wanted someone to talk to her. It was Dana, her old friend from High School, on the other end of the line. “Hey Sam! Long time no talk to.” Sam, “Where are you calling from this time? How are you?..Oh girl, I have missed you so much….” Dana, “ I’m living in Germany for now. It’s so beautiful, you would love it.” Dana was married to an Army Major, she was the perfect mother and wife. She had that white picket fence life Samantha had always wanted. Sam,”I’m so jealous. I hate my life right now. Derek is being a jerk again.” Dana, “I’m sorry, I would come stay with you and keep you company but with Eric’s deployments and these rugrats tugging on my pants all the time there is no way I can fly home now.” Sam, “It’s ok..just talk to me for a bit.”
And talk they did, two hours later Samantha had put the phone down and curled up into the fetal position and cried. Cried her first real cry in years. She was so tired of her life.
When she met him he wasn’t mean to her. That happened as the time they spent together grew. Back then his career was actually on the move. His band was doing well. He was passionate about everything. Maybe that’s what attracted Samantha to Derek, passion. He was handsome as well, boyish good looks and ice blue eyes. He was also ‘the badboy’ and she knew she always fell for the bad boy.
Samantha got into her red Civic, she hated being late and was already running behind schedule. As she drove through the melee that Atlanta traffic was memories replayed in her mind, vividly. The passion was there in every fiber of Derek’s being. They didn’t have some long courting, unless 2 days worth of texting could be considered long. Their first kiss was the first time he invited himself over. It was a Thursday and he was on his lunch break from his real job, the one that paid his rent. He walked in and they embraced before the door even shut. She made sure her ample yet firm breasts pressed against his chest as he grabbed her by the waist pulling her into him. His tongue parted her lips and she welcomed him into her mouth, their tongues danced in and out and around each others. He grabbed her hair and pulled back her head so he could kiss her neck. He nibbled gently on her. They took a moment and looked at each other and said, “hi.” Then continued with their crushing lock on one another. He moved behind her and slipped his hand into her pants…
There was no foreshadowing of the times to come.
She pulled into the parking lot near the back door. Scott, the head of security at the club, ran to help her out of her car. He knew she didn’t need help but was respectful of all the women that worked there. Scott looked like a mercenary, he was very muscular but moved quickly. The Marine Corps had never left him and he kept his hair high and tight. He was a professional and a gentleman, but if any of the guests even eyed one of his girls crookedly he was by their side. The girls safety was always first on his mind.
Scott looked down from his six foot three frame and noticed right away Samantha was wearing Jackie O sunglasses. He frowned and said, “I’ll beat the shit out of that jack ass!” Sam, replied, “No, I’ll deal with it, but thanks.” She smiled at him as tears welled up in her eyes and she blinked them back. He hugged her tightly, knowing it wasn’t the first and that meant it wouldn’t be the last. He walked her in then went back out to wait for the rest of the evening shift to arrive.
The rest of the night went on without a hitch, she danced her dance and they paid.
The next day Derek was still a no show and she was enjoying the quite. He was probably on his friends couch, mooching from someone else again. The phone rang, she hesitated to answer it and checked the number. It was an area code she didn’t recognize. She took a chance and answered it, lonely she wanted someone to talk to her. It was Dana, her old friend from High School, on the other end of the line. “Hey Sam! Long time no talk to.” Sam, “Where are you calling from this time? How are you?..Oh girl, I have missed you so much….” Dana, “ I’m living in Germany for now. It’s so beautiful, you would love it.” Dana was married to an Army Major, she was the perfect mother and wife. She had that white picket fence life Samantha had always wanted. Sam,”I’m so jealous. I hate my life right now. Derek is being a jerk again.” Dana, “I’m sorry, I would come stay with you and keep you company but with Eric’s deployments and these rugrats tugging on my pants all the time there is no way I can fly home now.” Sam, “It’s ok..just talk to me for a bit.”
And talk they did, two hours later Samantha had put the phone down and curled up into the fetal position and cried. Cried her first real cry in years. She was so tired of her life.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Emperor Constantine
I was brought up Catholic. My parents always told me that one day I would grow up (which I am still waiting for) and find my way, religiously speaking. I have educated my self since and as you all know I found my way to Wicca…..ahhhh…but religions bewitch and titillate me! ALL of them…not just one. I will focus here though on just one…Catholicism, the beginnings of Christianity.
Emperor Constantine changed the Church and directed it in a path it still continues.
He was the first Roman emperor to profess his Catholicism and be baptized, right before his death…His death has some irony attached to it I think. I’ll get to that….later.
The Catholic version of the Bible contains 73 books, the Protestant version contains 66.
Before Constantine there is nothing documented about how many books WERE in the Bible.
Scholars think that perhaps there were almost 600 books in the Bible to include, the ‘Book of Mary’, Magdaline and many others.
He could probably declared the FATHER of the CHRISTIAN RELIGION…not Christianity…but the religion of Christians.
He was powerful. He was a Man. Did he just want a Male dominated religion to ‘rule’ the people?
That is what THEY/HE (not God or Jesus)created put together. A book of the documents that they saw fit that would better Man kind and take the power away from the Holy Grail, Women.
Up until then Paganism and Judaism ruled the roost. Well, maybe the pagans were busy sacrificing the roosters from the roost. (I had to say it.)
He began the Nicene Council because they, the Catholic Religion, was so young and still trying to write itself for the future. They were having a difficult time with The Holy Trinity in the beginning and differentiating it from the Pagan Religions.
There was a disagreement between the Monarchianists and Trinitarans. One invisible God vs Three persons in one God…
How do you explain three persons in one God while you are trying to distance yourself from the Pagans?!
You take a vote(Yes, they really did)…Yes, that is the simplicity of it. How cool is that?!
The Father
The Son
The Holy Spirit
Those of us with multiple personality disorders get this. Why can’t you be various people in one being? It all makes sense to me.
As a Wiccan we have the oldest of the power of three…
The Maiden
The Mother
The Crone
I wonder where they got their idea for their Great big revised many times by many people translated from several languages…History Book?…A pretty darn accurate history book I might add, I’ll give it that.
AD 337 Constantine dies. His intent before he died was to be baptized in the river Jordan, that never came to pass and he was baptized on his death bed.
After his death the Roman senate decided to elevate him to ‘God’ status, this is called deification.
That is the irony.
The first Christian Emperor had been raised to the status of a pagan deity.
Ok….now…Do you think I should have just blogged about Keanu Reeves who played Constantine, a half Angel man that went around killing Demons?
I have probably seen that film 100 times.
He was the first Roman emperor to profess his Catholicism and be baptized, right before his death…His death has some irony attached to it I think. I’ll get to that….later.
The Catholic version of the Bible contains 73 books, the Protestant version contains 66.
Before Constantine there is nothing documented about how many books WERE in the Bible.
Scholars think that perhaps there were almost 600 books in the Bible to include, the ‘Book of Mary’, Magdaline and many others.
He could probably declared the FATHER of the CHRISTIAN RELIGION…not Christianity…but the religion of Christians.
He was powerful. He was a Man. Did he just want a Male dominated religion to ‘rule’ the people?
That is what THEY/HE (not God or Jesus)
Up until then Paganism and Judaism ruled the roost. Well, maybe the pagans were busy sacrificing the roosters from the roost. (I had to say it.)
He began the Nicene Council because they, the Catholic Religion, was so young and still trying to write itself for the future. They were having a difficult time with The Holy Trinity in the beginning and differentiating it from the Pagan Religions.
There was a disagreement between the Monarchianists and Trinitarans. One invisible God vs Three persons in one God…
How do you explain three persons in one God while you are trying to distance yourself from the Pagans?!
You take a vote(Yes, they really did)…Yes, that is the simplicity of it. How cool is that?!
The Father
The Son
The Holy Spirit
Those of us with multiple personality disorders get this. Why can’t you be various people in one being? It all makes sense to me.
As a Wiccan we have the oldest of the power of three…
The Maiden
The Mother
The Crone
I wonder where they got their idea for their Great big revised many times by many people translated from several languages…History Book?…A pretty darn accurate history book I might add, I’ll give it that.
AD 337 Constantine dies. His intent before he died was to be baptized in the river Jordan, that never came to pass and he was baptized on his death bed.
After his death the Roman senate decided to elevate him to ‘God’ status, this is called deification.
That is the irony.
The first Christian Emperor had been raised to the status of a pagan deity.
I have probably seen that film 100 times.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
The Dancer, part one-ish
She looked in the mirror. A strand of her long hair, the colour of Georgia clay, fell into her face. The face looking back was not one she recognized. She thought to herself, ‘I was supposed to have been somebody!’. She had talent, beauty and brains….the perfect trifecta. But here she was with a fist size bruise on her face. Her face didn’t hurt as much as the words he had spewed right before he slammed the door on his way out.
“You stupid, fucking cunt!”
She didn’t care about the ‘fucking cunt’ part. She had already been thinking herself ‘stupid’. Derek, just delivered the message a little louder than necessary this time. This was one of the many times she was thankful not to have children. She had wanted children. Wanted to be on the PTO and a white picket fence. Life didn’t pan out the way she had envisioned it. She had already started thinking she was stupid for the choices she had made. She could see no way out now. She knew he would be back and the cycle would continue. She started singing a song from the 80’s. “He spins me right round baby right round like a record baby…” She had changed the words to suit her needs, but her life was like a record with a scratch across it, repeating over and over making her go insane. She had an amazing voice, she belted it as loud as she could.
She reminisced about a happier time in her life, High School, 1988. The thoughts made her feel at ease but also saddened her. Her friend would be ‘sleeping’ over at her house and they would sneak out, drive to Orlando and head to a Rave. They would dance all night long, meeting people, pretending they were older than their respective years, 16 and 17. She and Dana had a great deal of fun together. They thought they would conquer the world.
Putting on her make up getting ready for work she was grateful she worked in a club with dim lights. She was a dancer now.
Not a Prima Ballerina kind.
Samantha, was a good dancer, athletic, attractive and had a body that would shame most women. She was 37 and looked 29. She could wrap her legs around a poll or swing from the rafters with the grace of a member of Cirque Du Soleil, but she did it naked. She knew she was good. She could tell how good she was as the men stinking of bourbon or beer handed her cash, loads of it every night. She had offers, ones she wasn’t proud of, and a couple times a year she would take someone up on their offer. A little more money for the coffers, any way she could get it. She would take the money up front. That Pretty Woman scene never happened. The Knight in Shining Armor never showed up. Samantha had instead gotten trapped by Derek.
Derek, who, when she met him was wearing a silver Members Only jacket. He was a musician and thought himself to be trendy, when actually he was just stuck in 1987. Derek thought the world revolved around him. The world though didn’t even know Derek was on the planet, and he walked around pissed off all the time. The look on his face at most waking moments of his day were, ‘fuck you.’
“You stupid, fucking cunt!”
She didn’t care about the ‘fucking cunt’ part. She had already been thinking herself ‘stupid’. Derek, just delivered the message a little louder than necessary this time. This was one of the many times she was thankful not to have children. She had wanted children. Wanted to be on the PTO and a white picket fence. Life didn’t pan out the way she had envisioned it. She had already started thinking she was stupid for the choices she had made. She could see no way out now. She knew he would be back and the cycle would continue. She started singing a song from the 80’s. “He spins me right round baby right round like a record baby…” She had changed the words to suit her needs, but her life was like a record with a scratch across it, repeating over and over making her go insane. She had an amazing voice, she belted it as loud as she could.
She reminisced about a happier time in her life, High School, 1988. The thoughts made her feel at ease but also saddened her. Her friend would be ‘sleeping’ over at her house and they would sneak out, drive to Orlando and head to a Rave. They would dance all night long, meeting people, pretending they were older than their respective years, 16 and 17. She and Dana had a great deal of fun together. They thought they would conquer the world.
Putting on her make up getting ready for work she was grateful she worked in a club with dim lights. She was a dancer now.
Not a Prima Ballerina kind.
Samantha, was a good dancer, athletic, attractive and had a body that would shame most women. She was 37 and looked 29. She could wrap her legs around a poll or swing from the rafters with the grace of a member of Cirque Du Soleil, but she did it naked. She knew she was good. She could tell how good she was as the men stinking of bourbon or beer handed her cash, loads of it every night. She had offers, ones she wasn’t proud of, and a couple times a year she would take someone up on their offer. A little more money for the coffers, any way she could get it. She would take the money up front. That Pretty Woman scene never happened. The Knight in Shining Armor never showed up. Samantha had instead gotten trapped by Derek.
Derek, who, when she met him was wearing a silver Members Only jacket. He was a musician and thought himself to be trendy, when actually he was just stuck in 1987. Derek thought the world revolved around him. The world though didn’t even know Derek was on the planet, and he walked around pissed off all the time. The look on his face at most waking moments of his day were, ‘fuck you.’
Monday, January 3, 2011
OP Honors..this is bullshit
The military is different than the real world.
There was a video aired aboard the USS Enterprise …. several years ago. One of the players was the XO, OP Honors. He is now in command of the Enterprise.
The navy knew about this video before they promoted him and let him take control of the Enterprise.
I’m calling BullShit here.
On NBC tonight a former Commander of his was quoted as saying…
…”Being a leader does not mean being an entertainer….”yada, fucking, yada…
This blog is about MY opinions. No matter how offensive you think they are this is my platform, for now, until I dominant the world;)
This is something you might think is a silly thing to be so enraged about…but this is a man’s career and HIS LIFE!
The video was aired 4 years ago, the Navy knew about it. He was still made the CC of the Enterprise.
I don’t know the guy…I know men like him though.
The military IS SO DIFFERENT than the real world.
These people might NEVER return from their duty, that yes, they signed up for.
Having a great sense of humor can get you through some really rough times.
Being stuck on a ship for months at a time, deployed for a year or more. Away from your family and friends…
What I am saying here is that someone was offended…Someone that should…”hug themselves for about 20 minutes or more."
Fuck the public!
Get a fucking sense of humor!
He is being temporarily relieved of his dutys…this will most likely end is career.
BULLSHIT!
I posted this and not 20 min later a good friend of mine sent me a message, This person will remain anonymous, but served aboard the Enterprise under OP Honors…
"He was/is an awesome leader. This was just one side of him. In all my years on carriers I never had an aviator XO that understood what it took to run a ship better than him. Let alone maintain an almost 50 year old ship clean and running...This is a huge loss!"
There was a video aired aboard the USS Enterprise …. several years ago. One of the players was the XO, OP Honors. He is now in command of the Enterprise.
The navy knew about this video before they promoted him and let him take control of the Enterprise.
I’m calling BullShit here.
On NBC tonight a former Commander of his was quoted as saying…
…”Being a leader does not mean being an entertainer….”yada, fucking, yada…
This blog is about MY opinions. No matter how offensive you think they are this is my platform, for now, until I dominant the world;)
This is something you might think is a silly thing to be so enraged about…but this is a man’s career and HIS LIFE!
The video was aired 4 years ago, the Navy knew about it. He was still made the CC of the Enterprise.
I don’t know the guy…I know men like him though.
The military IS SO DIFFERENT than the real world.
These people might NEVER return from their duty, that yes, they signed up for.
Having a great sense of humor can get you through some really rough times.
Being stuck on a ship for months at a time, deployed for a year or more. Away from your family and friends…
What I am saying here is that someone was offended…Someone that should…”hug themselves for about 20 minutes or more."
Fuck the public!
Get a fucking sense of humor!
He is being temporarily relieved of his dutys…this will most likely end is career.
BULLSHIT!
I posted this and not 20 min later a good friend of mine sent me a message, This person will remain anonymous, but served aboard the Enterprise under OP Honors…
"He was/is an awesome leader. This was just one side of him. In all my years on carriers I never had an aviator XO that understood what it took to run a ship better than him. Let alone maintain an almost 50 year old ship clean and running...This is a huge loss!"
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