Rantings of an Irascible Housewife

A Thousand Apologies!

2009-05-27T00:19:00.002-04:00

I'm so sorry that I haven't had time to update this blog lately. The good news is that it's because I'm focusing most of my energy on another blog, which can be found here: www.sylvantreasuresjewelry.blogspot.com.

I don't intend to stop publishing to this blog because the other one is restricted only to jewelry-making and such bead-related topics. Don't worry, I'll still come by here as often as possible to bitch about and celebrate various other things from time to time. So don't give up on me! Just check my other blog if I'm slow to post to this one.

I'm working so hard to try and make my little business ventures successful that I'm burning the candle at both ends rather thoroughly lately. I should be sleeping even now, but here I am... geez. Okay, okay, I really have to run now. See you around the blogosphere, everyone!

The Housewife is BACK!

2009-05-03T11:44:00.002-04:00

Hey, all. The hubster went back to work last week, so I am now officially teh housewives again. It was really nice having him around, but it made it quite difficult to motivate myself to do all of my chores properly when he was just sitting around here loafing on the computer while he waited to start his new job. Not very motivating... made me want to sit on my ass, too. Not that I did, but... I don't know... I just missed my routine so much. Waking up, changing my son, making us breakfast and having my morning pot of Earl Grey with a fresh little lemon wedge... I was starting to feel kind of incomplete without my routine. I know, weird. But I have it back now, so horray!

I also have a shit-ton of beads to manage. I ordered a few small shipments of materials from some new suppliers, so every day or two I get a package full of shiny new beads and findings to sort. It was starting to get way out of hand, so last night I devoted a couple of hours to re-organinzing my entire bead stash. I'm still not finished yet, but things are looking a lot better. It's just so hard to come up with new designs when things aren't well-organized. I did manage to come up with two new earring designs, though. They're quite lovely if I say so myself. I hope to post them next week along with a few others if I can get some more designing done today. Speaking of which, I'd better get to work. Wish me luck! Laters!

Best. Ice Cream. Evar.

2009-04-21T09:27:00.005-04:00

Last night, on the way home from knitting with my friends, I felt a sudden craving for something sweet so I stopped by the local UDF. I hadn't gone there to buy anything other than milk or orange juice for a long time, so I was amazed to see the new range of flavors that have cropped up since the last time I checked. They not only had my all-time favorite flavor of sherbet -- watermelon -- but they also had several intriguing flavors of ice cream such as raspberry cheesecake and gourmet vanilla chocolate. Yum. Decisions, decisions. How was I to ever make up my mind? And then... I saw IT. Hiding unobtrusively amongst the rows of cherry cordial and dutch chocolate almond was perhaps the most awesome flavor concept I'd ever heard of. Fried Ice Cream. Hells yeah.

My decision was made. Now all that was left was for me to take it home and fervently hope to not be disappointed. So many desserts just don't live up to their name, you know? I was once at a restaurant and ordered a dessert that sounded just lovely... then it got to my table and was nothing more than an unassuming slice of pound cake topped with whipped cream and berries. Now don't get me wrong... that's the kind of thing that I'd be pleased as punch to receive at a friend's house -- I might even whip up something similar myself, on occasion -- but to go out to a nice restaurant and pay upwards of five bucks for something as unimaginative as that? Needless to say, I felt kind of ripped off. But I digress.

Despite the heater in my car being on nearly full tilt to blast the chill from my exposed shoulders, the ice cream was still rock-hard by the time I got home. I was even using a fifteen dollar club of an ice cream scoop (an unorthodox but very cool wedding gift) dipped in hot water at regular intervals, but I was starting to lose my patience. I had to have my husband finish serving up the last bowl of it as I was mere moments from attacking the ice cream with my bare hands. (Quite the sweet tooth, I know.)

Anyway, when I finally settled into position -- propped up in bed, bowl in hand -- to enjoy my much-anticipated treat and catch a few episodes of old-school Star Trek, I was ready to give the new flavor a taste. It was wonderful! Creamy, cinnamon-infused ice cream met layers of swirled honey and generous chunks of cinnamon-sugar encrusted, fried tortillas. Amazingly, the tortilla pieces were still every bit as crisp as if they'd been freshly fried despite being buried in the ice cream. Crisp and delicious. I can hardly believe that I'm writing this, but I actually like it even more than my previous favorite ice cream, which was Ben and Jerry's chunky monkey. (Delicious banana ice cream chock full of large chunks of chocolate and walnuts.) I highly recommend that you give it a try. Next time I'll enjoy some with strawberry and chocolate syrup, just like they serve at Don Pablo's. I can hardly wait. :)

That's it for now... I just wanted to share that moment of bliss with you. Laters!

Need for Speed

2009-04-16T10:43:00.003-04:00

OMG, I am such a vegetable right now. I'm literally blogging just to stay awake. My husband's going out to pick up my ADD meds now, which I foolishly let myself run out of so I didn't have one to take this morning. I didn't realize how much I'd come to depend on it not just for the focus, but also for the energy it provides. I'm just hoping that my morning cup of Earl Grey will hold me over until he gets back.

So yeah, my husband's at home today. He was supposed to start his new-old job this morning, but there was a misunderstanding on his boss' (sp?) part with the paperwork so now he can't start until it comes in the mail and he signs some kind of acceptance letter or some red tape B.S. like that. Oh, well... least I get a few more days to enjoy having him around here. If he weren't here to pick up my meds today, I'd be practically useless all day long. I'd forgotten how tired my antidepressant makes me, even though I only take the half dose. It's like the hour after I've taken a couple of benedryl... "Oops, the allergy meds kicked in. Time to sleep. NOW."

Sorry if this entry is clumsily written. It's all that's keeping me up right now. I need more tea.

I've purchased an ad slot on Etsy for my earrings tomorrow. I'm looking forward to seeing them up there. I also sent out a special 20% discount offer to everyone who favorited my shop or particular jewelry items in order to help me build up a customer base. Basically, I've offered them all 20% off their entire first purchase. Sure that eats into my profits, but I'd rather sell the stuff at a discount and build customer loyalty than risk not selling it at all. I've already gotten three thank-you messages back from buyers who have expressed interest in taking advantage of the deal. Hopefully this will lead to some more sales soon.

It's blessedly sunny outside today, so I plan to take advantage of the natural light streaming in the window to take some more photographs of new jewelry designs so that I can upload them to the shop. I just uploaded two new ones last night: the lucky dragon hairstick and indigo fairyblossom earrings. I want to upload as much as possible before tomorrow in the hopes of increased traffic on my site due to the advertizing. Wish me luck!

Okay, I'm gonna get out of this chair and try to function like a non-zombie before my finely-honed Resident Evil skills cause me to mistakenly put a bullet into my own face. Oh, and I'll leave you with one of my all-time favorite music videos by my all-time favorite band. It's an ironic piece about how America's cultural influence in the world has gone from simple, old-school cowboys and Indians movies to its current state, which all too often supplants the practices of other cultures with its own. Enjoy! (Oh, just don't forget to make sure my jukebox on the right of the screen is turned off or you will hear both at the same time... very discordant.)

Listening to this will definitely wake me up. Laters!

Out of the Closet

2009-04-15T18:36:00.005-04:00

Here's a haiku that I just wrote about the current weather situation.

Spring Rain

Clouds hang low and dark.
A dove calls out mournfully;
Grey feathers, grey sky.

I truly hope all of this rain lets up soon, if only for a couple of days. It's just so freaking dismal outside. It's particularly chilly out today, also. Oh, well... at least there's always knitting, beading, and Resident Evil. I beat the game the other day, but there's still a bunch of fun stuff to do as I continue to unlock various weapons, costumes, and other extras for the characters. Lots more bullets to put in lots more faces, then. Good times. :)

I got a new dress the other day from my favorite store, Forever 21. Their new Spring line is particularly on par with my fashion preferences this year. Lots of floor-length dresses with a nice patchwork style that look great with boots and sandals, by my way of thinking. Which begs the question... am I becoming a hippie or what? So many people have been referring to me that way lately, even total strangers believe it or not. Also my father, who, upon seeing me in a long patchwork skirt, homemade flowery jewelry, and lengthening hair piled up in ornately designed hairsticks, asked me, "So... how many steps?"

"Huh?" I asked warily, wondering where he was going with the question.

"Just how many steps are there between Goth and Hippie?" he smirked, referring to my diverse evolution of clothing styles and lifestyle choices over the past dozen years.

I smiled, and after a moment's thought replied, "Three or four... at least in my case." Not that I intended to bother naming them all off to him... after all, it was no doubt intended as a rhetorical question. If I were to think about it though, I suppose it would go something like Punk, Goth, Stoner, Self-Styling-Blue-Haired Fashionista, Slovenly Dressed New Mommy, to... whatever the heck I am right now. But really, it all boils down to the same thing no matter what my current style motif happenes to be: free spirit. I dress to suit my current moods and outlook, occasionally taking on the persona or traits of a certain subculture or style if the look meshes well with my ever-evolving worldview. Apparently that means that I look like a hippie right now.

That's fine. I guess the shoe fits, really. I do make my own jams, soaps, cleaning products, and clothes, whenever possible. I'm a vegetarian, pacifist, free-thinking Buddhist bisexual. Yeah, you read that right. I'm bisexual and I'm sick of staying quiet about it. I'm sick of people thinking that "being bi" means that "I don't care where I put it" or that it just means that I'm immoral or horny all the time. That's not true at all. It just means that I have an involuntary sexual response to people of both genders. It's perfectly natural and it happens. I make no apologies for who or what I am... it's taken me years to come to that level of self-acceptance. I'm sick of feeling ashamed or like I have a dirty secret that no one but my husband knows about. No, I'm not about to "come out" to my family members... frankly, I don't see the point. As far as they're concerned, I'm happily married with a wonderful child and that's all they need to know. It's not their business because it doesn't affect them. I just don't like feeling like I'm hiding a part of myself from the outside world, even if it isn't truly necessary that I share the information. Well, it feels necessary to me. I am what I am, world. Take it or leave it.

Also, as an aside to my librarian friend who recently showed me her cool "boudoir" photos -- please don't be self-conscious about having shown them to me. I regard that type of thing the same way that I would any type of tasteful artistic representation of the human body. It's like seeing a nude statue of Lady Justice or Aphrodite. I can appreciate it without being turned on by it. The human body is a work of art, you know? And those were some very pretty, artistic photos. So please don't be worried or embarassed about sharing them with me. I'm perfectly capable of normal friendship and relationships, despite what some people may think about those of my sexual orientation.

It's sad, though... even in the gay community, bisexuals are often unaccepted by homosexuals, who can sometimes see them as a threat, as if our very existence demonstrates that sexual preference is a "choice." Well, it's not. I was born this way and I've been this way since before I even understood what it meant, confusing as it was back then. But there was never any doubt for me. The attraction to both genders was instinctive, even in my childhood before I knew about the possibility of such things. You'll just have to take my word on that. It isn't a choice and it isn't a trend. It's me. I'm here, I'm queer (well, halfway), get used to it.

One last thing... being "bi" doesn't mean that I have loyalty issues with my husband, who is wonderful and perfect for me and all that. Actually, in the past I was once cheated on by one of my ex-boyfriends, who I caught messing around with one of his guy friends. He actually had the nerve to try and claim that it wasn't cheating because it was another guy. Can you believe that B.S.? Yes, that is totally cheating. I'm a one-person woman and being bisexual doesn't change that at all. I just wanted to set that straight in case people start to wonder... it's not at all like that for me and my husband. Really, it doesn't affect our marriage at all except that we can both share in the common trait of finding women attractive. Hell, it's nice to be able to say without jealousy, "Yes, dear, I think she's hot, too." Or, "Ugh, no. Not my type. Those legs are way too skinny," etc. We've even enjoyed some good-natured joking about it... last night he handed me something to look at with the preface that the image on it was "just my type of guy." It was a cartoon drawing of a big, muscular dude wearing a bra and panties complete with lacy suspenders. I laughed so loud that I think the upstairs neighbors heard. It's nice to be with someone who accepts me for who I am. I doubt I could have it any other way.

Alright, enough about that. I'm going to go wake up my napping family now. Toodles!

April Showers Bring...

2009-04-14T09:41:00.006-04:00

May showers. We're not there yet, but you just wait and see. Sure there are May flowers aplenty, but that doesn't do squat for squelching the nonstop flow of rain that makes up half of springtime. Now I'm not a rain-hater, I just don't care for Spring rain. It's clammy, pervasive, and constant. I much prefer the warm, grandiose rainstorms of Summer. The drops fall huge and warm amid the thunder and lightning, imbuing the air with the scent of spent blossoms and steaming blacktop with a hint of electricity. I love that smell... and the feel of the generous, warm drops kissing my hot skin... lovely.

I also like walking around barefoot through the grass and over the pavement when it's warm. The heat of the asphalt and the soothing coolness of the grass seeps into the soles of my feet and lifts my spirit like a benediction from Mother Earth. I think I need a new pair of flip-flops, though... last year's are irrevocably darkened with grass stains and sidewalk grit from traipsing about with my feet alternating between bare and flip-flopped according to my fleeting whims.

I recently finished knitting my first-ever pair of socks. It took just over three months because I took a leave of absence from knitting to engage in beadcraft halfway through the second sock. I guess that's what you call "second sock syndrome." Well, I'm happy to say that I finally overcame said syndrome and finished my fun little pair of faux-cabled socks in a lovely shade of Kermit. Here's some pics!

Aren't they fun? I'm so proud of myself for actually knitting a pair of socks! Thanks so much to my Monday night knitting buddies for all of your support and encouragement... especially to my vegan sock-knitting friend, who is such a master of the sock arts that she can even bust out a pair in a weekend. Amazing.

My all-time favorite wildflower is blooming in gorgeous little bunches lately.

Viola odorata, or "sweet violets" as they are commonly known, spring up in yards and parks everywhere. They are technically a weed I suppose, but I dearly love them. I wonder if you can buy seeds to plant them in your yard or home? I would really like that. Right now I have 2 1/2 African violets growing in my window (1/2 because one of them is still in infancy as I recently cloned it from a cutting) and their showy purple blooms are marvelous. I've finally mastered how to properly care for them, providing the correct balance of water, vitamins, and sunlight so that they flourish and bloom constantly. I've quite the collection of houseplants lately. Thirteen, I think. Not bad for a one-bedroom apartment, anyway. I give them water, vitamins, and rotate them regularly for even sun-coverage and they give me many smiles and feelings of accomplishment. An excellent exchange. I'll post more pics of my little green bretheren later. I'm gonna go do... something else. Don't know what yet. Toodles!

Update, Schmupdate

2009-04-11T09:55:00.003-04:00

Hey, all. It's been an interesting and busy week.

First of all, my husband just got re-hired to his old job yesterday. Not the one that just let him go, but the one where he worked right before that. The funny thing is, it's another P&G contractor, so it's basically the third time in a row that he'll be working in the same place... in some cases perhaps right alongside the same people that he just got terminated from working with. Not that he cares about that, really... but I can't help but think that it will be a good chance for him to show them that he didn't need them, after all. It just burns me up to think of how they let him go for no damn good reason... they threw him out like garbage with the most pathetic justification I've ever heard of just so they wouldn't have to pay out unemployment benefits. Well, they will pay them if it kills me. I know that it only amounts to about two weeks of pay, but I'll be damned if I let them get off scot-free. We're not the type to go down without a fight... especially yours truly. ;)

So that's some good news. In other news, my father is in town to visit with me this week. In short...

PROS:

- Time to catch up with a father I never got to know very well.
- Getting to learn more about my early childhood from another perspective.
- He's bonding more with my son, which is great.

CONS:

- He's a fundamentalist religious nut who cries for my eternal soul and warns that I'll burn in hell for all time unless I renounce Buddhism and accept Jesus Christ as my lord and savior, blah, blah, blah, please stop crying Dad, holy crap this can not be healthy. (No offense to all of you tolerant Christians out there. Please understand the distinction... I respect others' choice of faith and only ask that they do the same for me.)
- Regardless of the subject, he makes the term "motormouth" seem like an understatement. Even at the height of my morning Dexedrine buzz (ADD meds that are basically speed), I can't hope to compete with him. Please take a breath and let someone else express a thought, please.
- I just found out that he's... well... legally... hmmm... well, I think "mentally disabled" was how his old shrink put it. He actually showed me the paper that says so in his own doctor's handwriting... apparently he carries it with him in his wallet. It entitles him to free $$ from the guv-ment every month. Lovely. And I thought he qualified for Social Security income because of his physical health problems.

This leaves me with the unwelcome revelation that literally both of my parents are medically delusional. Nice. My mother refuses help because she's so far gone she can't see that she needs it and my father thinks that God magically cured him of his mental defects so he doesn't need to see the doctor or take medicine anymore. I would love to believe that my dad is right, but... well... let's just say that there are times when it's clear that the elevator doesn't quite reach the top floor. He has paranoid delusions about modern science and believes that "the Devil" is literally trying to thwart him. On the other hand, Mom once claimed to be an angel sent from God... again, literally. My grandfather on my mother's side died three years ago yesterday in the Dementia ward of a hospital due to injuries suffered from an alzheimer's-induced accident and my grandmother, also on my mother's side, practices denial and invalidation of facts and feelings to the point of being at least neurotic. As for my father's parents, one was an abusive drunk who later died after years of suffering from alzheimer's-related dementia while the other has been described by him as emotionally distant, if perhaps for reasons beyond her control.

This is the stock that I have been bred from. It feels like a nearly hopeless situation. I take great comfort in the fact that despite years of psychological abuse, neglect, and incidents of molestation and rape, I have survived with nothing more serious than depression and ADD, both of which are being treated successfully with medication and therapy. I'd be lying if I said that all of this didn't shake me to my core, though. It's horrifying to find that mental illness is so prevalent in my forebears. In essence, "what a pisser" is my phrase du jour lately.

Don't worry, I'll be fine. I just need to assimilate all of this crap so that I can deal with it properly and get over it. In a few days, I'm sure that I'll be back to my usual chipper self and no doubt stronger for the experience. Right now, though... ankle deep in a big ol' pile of emotional waste, forced to breathe it in deeply... well, let's just say that I'm glad I have my psychological boots on, so to speak.

More later. I'm think I'm going to ease the tension by putting a few more bullets into some faces a la Resident Evil.

Unemployed

2009-03-31T18:26:00.000-04:00

My husband lost his job today. :(

$ale!

2009-03-25T11:52:00.011-04:00

Okay, so my new Etsy shop is finally open. If you haven't already, feel free to check it out here. I just made my very first sale yesterday and I'm still pretty pumped about it. Hopefully I'll get a nice positive review so I'll have a 100% approval rating. :)

Aside from jewelry-making and... well... shop-set-upping... I've been happily engaged playing the latest installment in one of my favorite video game series. Resident Evil 5, a zombie-esque survival horror action/adventure game, is turning out to be a blast. Here's a few screenshots of what the gameplay looks like. The graphics are amazing.

This time around, the game takes place in an area of Africa that has become infested with the Plaga virus. Last time it was in a remote part of Spain, and before that it was the T- and G-viruses infesting the fictional American enviorns of Racoon City. This series is really making the rounds, globally speaking. Heck, in Code Veronica parts of the game took place in Antarctica.

Anyway, as you can see, the graphics are superb. The infected villagers have such realistic movements, whether walking down the street, glaring at you with arms crossed, or coming at you with axes and crossbows. It's fantastic. The gameplay is riveting. Right now I'm making my way through a creepy underground mine while my partner, the sexy native Sheva Alomar, holds a large flashlight so that I can make my way around without running headlong into axe-wielding, murderous infestees. Way fun.

Tonight I plan on making some more hairsticks for my shop. I've got a nice stock of a few different lengths and types of sticks and I'm really looking forward to coming up with designs for them. I also have some cool new silver combs and some amazing-looking crystalline leaves that I want to mix with ice-blue glass flowers and dark blue, irridescent Japanese fringe beads to make a wintry-looking design. I can't wait.

BTW, here's a pic of the earring design that I just sold. It's called "Poison Ivy."

The design went through several permutations before I finally settled on this arrangement, which i think is wicked-cool. I'm not surprised that it's the first to sell; I'll have to make another copy of them to upload to my shop again soon.

In other news, I saw my therapist yesterday and he said again that I'm making really great progress lately. I think that part of the reason is that I'm channeling a lot of the negative energy and stress into my jewelry-making... it's so satisfying to take a mixed assortment of materials and, through trial and error, turn it into something lovely. It's like taking all of my mixed-up emotions and organizing them into something manageable and integrating it all into my psyche. Very cathartic. It's also wonderful to know that my friends -- and now a customer -- enjoy the fruits of my labor. I dearly love making lemonade out of the lemons life throws my way. :)

Well, that's it for now. I leave you with this hilarious mock-ad for Merit cigarettes. Enjoy!

LOL, right?! Okay, laters!

Pain in the Neck, etc.

2009-03-05T11:06:00.005-05:00

My neck has been getting pretty messed up in my sleep lately. Every couple of weeks I wake up with a lot of stiffness and soreness. My husband says I've been tossing around a lot in my sleep lately... my dreams have been very vivid, actually. Nothing important or even too interesting, but very clear and real-seeming. Last night I dreamt that I went to the grocery store but I realized halfway through my shopping that I forgot to bring my wallet with me. It was very annoying.

Anyway, I must've done a pretty interesting maneuver on myself Sunday night because when I woke up on Monday morning my neck was particularly sore. By the end of the day, it hurt so much that I was relieved I'd decided not to go out to art night; I couldn't even sit up in bed anymore and was forced to lie down with a heating pad under my neck just to keep the pain at a managable level. Tuesday night was pretty much the same, but I think it hurt even more. Yesterday and today it's just been sore, though. Much better.

Yesterday was chore-tastic: I vacuumed the carpets, scrubbed and swept the kitchen, and did two loads of laundry because my son had thrown up all over his bedding the night before. Lovely. Oh, well... still much better than being stuck in bed with nothing to do. Ever try beading flat on your back? I don't recommend it.

My mother-in-law's birthday is coming up and I'm making her my special golden carrot cake. It's got orange zest in the cream cheese frosting and toasted pecans, golden raisins, and crushed pineapple inside. Yum! Here's a pic of the marzipan carrots that I just made.

When they get put on top of the cake, all I have to do is pipe a bit of green icing onto the end with a "grass" tip. It's the way we always did them at the bakery I used to work at and they come out really cute. I had so much fun making them... it really brought back memories. Making large batches of marzipan and cream cheese icing were regular parts of my job. I really enjoyed that job... shame I had to work with the Queen Bitch of the Universe there. Oh, well... if it wasn't for her I guess I wouldn't have decided to have a baby and become a professional housewife, so I guess it wasn't such a bad thing, after all.

Okay, I've gotta run and work on my jewelry shop stuff some more. I really want to get everything together so that I can open it soon!

Busy Bee

2009-02-22T15:14:00.004-05:00

I'm afraid that I've been too occupied to post a blog entry this week... I've been very strongly inspired to fashion new designs for my Etsy jewelry shop. (Setup still in progress... I'm waiting on a bust to be shipped from Hong Kong so that I can photograph my necklaces on it.) Just in the last 24 hours, I've made three new pairs of earrings to sell and taken almost a hundred pictures of my designs so that I can pick the very best ones to represent my works. I can't tell you how tedious it is to click through twenty-odd pictures of the same damn pair of earrings over and over trying to narrow it down to the best three or four.

Today is busy... I offered to bake brownies, muffins, and jam bars for the hubster to take in to work tomorrow rather than just letting him buy doughnuts from the local bakery. (Apparently it's his turn to take in the sweets this week.) I also have to make a large batch of strawberry jam tonight because I have a customer that requested it.

Tomorrow, I'll be making a big pot of vegetarian chili for my friends to enjoy with our baked potatoes during our weekly Art Night get-together. It's thick and full of kidney beans like Frisch's chili, but redolent of cocoa and cinnamon like Skyline's. My son and husband especially love it... I made chili cheese fries for dinner the other night and my son couldn't get enough! There's nothing quite like the satisfaction I feel when I see my son cramming the fruits of my kitchen labor into his sweet little face. :) Ahhh... heartwarming.

Anyway, I just wanted to let everyone know that I'm doing well this week. Therapy was challenging, as anticipated, but I came out feeling much better than when I went in. I guess I still have a lot of work to do on myself. I still don't know what to really expect when I've finished dealing with and accepting things. I mean, what will that feel like? I've been carrying all this so long, I barely even felt the burden of it anymore. What would I be like without it? It makes me question a lot of things... what makes a person who and what they are... the difference between both the "who" and the "what"... and just who and what the heck I am right now. Ah, well... it's not terribly unlike trying to attain a Zen state of mind, so I can't say that I don't enjoy the mental exercise.

Okay, have to go. Lots more to do!!! Later!

And Now for Something Completely Different...

2009-02-13T14:06:00.002-05:00

Valentine's Day is tomorrow. The in-laws are coming over tomorrow for a double-date wine and cheese party. The theme is an idea that I heard about and fell in love with a few years back and had to find an excuse for. Valentine's day is perfect. It may be a bit of a challenge for me to hold myself together and act "normal" for a few hours, but we'll all be drinking so I'm hopeful that things will go smoothly. Wish me luck.

I went ahead and toasted some chopped hazelnuts for a batch of heart-shaped brownies that I'll be baking for tomorrow... they smelled so good that I had to make myself a bowl of oatmeal for lunch just to have something to eat some of them with. I dearly love a nice bowl of old-fashioned oatmeal with a spoonful of brown sugar and a drizzle of maple syrup. It's such a great comfort food. Boo to the instant crap, though. It's like snot soup.

I'm feeling okay today. Not great, but okay. Yesterday, too. The sunshine streaming in through my open window certainly helps. You know what else helps? Tee-hee... Hard Gay! I've just discovered him and I'm in love with his shtick. Hard Gay (or Hardo Gay-ee, as it is usually pronounced) is a Japanese comedian who runs around the street in tight leather hot pants and sunglasses shaking his hips and being exhuberantly gay. It's freaking hilarious. Here, check out this clip.

Wild, huh? Japanese culture is so cool... even the children love Hard Gay! He's even done cooking skits to help them eat their vegetables!

Well, that's it for now. I'm just happy to post something here that's on a more positive note. Later!

Going With the Flow

2009-02-11T14:06:00.003-05:00

I can't believe that I made it through the whole day yesterday without crying only to fall apart in the middle of the night. The husband was very understanding and helped calm my hysterics, fetching tissues and providing what comfort he could. I was so calm and numb yesterday and then all of a sudden, in the warm, dark safety of my own bed, I sobbed a couple of times. That did it; the dam was broken. I kinda panicked, I guess. Okay, I totally panicked. I was worried that I'd be all useless and half-catatonic today, as only happens to me when I get extremely, extremely upset. I kind of freeze up at times, shut down and cease to be able to function. When I get like that, it's almost impossible to move... I can't even think clearly or get up to feed myself. It's like my system gets overwhelmed and short circuits. I was terrified of that happening to me when I was all alone with my son today. What if I couldn't feed him or change him or even get out of bed all day? I was so scared of that.

I'm okay today, though. Besides, the stillness usually doesn't last for much more than an hour at worst before I start to thaw out. I was just being paranoid. I really don't want my son to suffer for all of the garbage that I went through. He's a big part of the reason that I'm getting help for myself these days. For me. For my family.

I just have to keep trying to remind myself that I was raped and that it wasn't my fault. I'd be lying if I said that I'd successfully convinced myself of that 100% already. It's only been a few days versus over a decade of denial, avoidance, and crushing guilt and shame. It's a lot to bear all at once. After all, I'm not just trying to deal with and accept what happened... I also need to integrate years of pain and self-loathing regarding the incident into my new understanding of things. It feels so... monumental. Huge and heavy. Impossible. Like trying to move a whole mountain. I guess I'll just have to go one pebble at a time. This sucks.

I find that I keep wanting to reflexively revert to my old way of thinking out of habit. I allowed him to do that to me... it's not like I was tied up or held at gunpoint. My therapist had kinda rolled his eyes when I said that as if to say "Oh, come on!" or "Not this again." The gesture made me want to smile in spite of myself, because it reinforced what he said then, which was that rape often simply isn't done that way, Hollywood-style. It doesn't have to be that dramatic and stereotypical. He then said one of my favorite things that I've heard so far lately... he said that what happened to me wasn't even on the fence. It wasn't even close to that, where maybe it was rape and maybe it wasn't... or it was, but only technically or something like that. He said it in a gentle voice that was very firm and confident at the same time. I really thanked him for giving me those words. They help me so much when I feel the most lost and unsure.

Well, look at that... looks like I can cry in the daytime, too. Well, that's fine. I'd rather hurt a bit than feel numb like yesterday. Maybe I did take an extra antidepressant then... or maybe I'm still kind of in shock. I need to remember to tell my doctor about my physical reactions next time I see him. It's a week from today... wish it didn't have to be so long, but it can't be helped. His schedule is very tight these days and I have to work around the schedule of my sitter as well. Usually I like a nice two week break between sessions: it gives me the time I need to absorb and integrate new information. Not so much this time. I could use some more professional input from him.

I've kept myself nice and busy today with the housework and such. Sitting around just makes me feel bad... probably why I'm more of a night-cryer. On the plus side, my kitchen is sparkly. Messes really put me in a funk which is the last thing I need right now.

My beautiful little boy is napping now. My favorite sound in the whole world is the sound of his breathing, especially when he's fast asleep.

Ugh... I need to get up and do something again. I'm starting to get bummed out.

Once Upon a Time

2009-02-10T10:56:00.011-05:00

**** It occurs to me, somewhat belatedly as I originally posted this entry yesterday, that I should warn you that this entry is a bit graphic and more than a bit of a downer. In other words, don't read it if you don't feel like having horrifying images put into your head. If you already read it and feel suitably grossed out, sorry I forgot to put this notice up first. ****

My apologies if this entry isn't up to the usual standards. It's been an unusual last few days and this morning I feel particularly strange. I have the weirdest feeling like I'm walking around in a dream and the air is as thick as water and it's hard to move. Even my eyelids are heavy. I've felt this way before, kind of... when I screw up and accidentally take my antidepressant twice the evening before. I wonder If I accidentally did that again? It's not dangerous or anything... I only take the half dose pill because the full dose makes me kinda lifeless and saps all of my energy. That's it... next time I go to CVS I'm investing in one of those day-of-the-week pill organizers so I don't have to worry about it anymore. At least my migraine is gone at last... it's been about three days this time. It was a nice little present to wake up without it today.

My son just tripped and fell over the little soup pot that I let him play with and hurt his knee a little. It felt good to cuddle him and kiss his ouchies away. I'm drinking my usual two cups of Earl Grey this morning and it's helping a bit with the sluggishness. I still feel off, though. I guess considering the circumstances, it's to be expected.

Last night I was finally able to say the words for the first time since that mind-blowing therapy session last Thursday. And now I'm about to type them for the first time. I was raped. There, I wrote it. What a mess this entry must be. My brain feels like it's filled with cobwebs and vegetable oil... if that makes any sense.

I couldn't help but laugh a bit as I re-read that last paragraph. Not exactly clear, is it? No, my therapist didn't rape me. What a thought. Actually, I'm extremely fond of my therapist, professionally speaking. I highly recommend him.

Geez, I feel like such a mess right now. Kinda numb, kinda half dead. I'm usually such a glass is half full kind of person. This is so lame.

I've spent the last eleven and a half years believing that what my then-stepfather did to me back then was all my fault. I allowed it to happen, after all. I put myself in that situation, I thought. He was dumb and animalistic... like an ape or a football player. Of course he would do that to me. Probably couldn't help himself. I let him. It was my fault. Only... it wasn't my fault. That's what my doctor says. That's what my friends say. That's what I'm both hopeful and afraid to believe. I confessed the events to my shrink about two weeks ago, braced and prepared for the judgement that would inevitably follow. He allowed me some time to let it sink in, let me try to see things with some more clarity. In the following session, on Thursday, I told him that I was beginning to accept that the situation wasn't entirely my fault... that I was set up to fail by numerous circumstances. He just kept saying "noooo..." in that expectant way he always does when he's trying to get me to realize something. After a while, I got frustrated and confused. "What do you want me to say?!" I complained. "What am I not doing right? I don't understand!" In the course of a couple minutes, my fragile confidence was shattered.

I didn't know what realization he was trying to lead me to. I couldn't imagine what it could be. I had admitted that I was at least partly to blame for what had happened to me... wasn't it enough? Was it... worse? Was it wishful thinking that I had believed he was trying to tell me it wasn't all my fault to begin with? Was he about to tell me that I had to accept responsibility for what had happened? It was the only thing I could guess. I cried then, surprised how suddenly and easily the tears came as I shook and shivered, leaning forward on the couch. I felt slumped and stiff at the same time. I was bracing myself for what he would say as best I could.

What he would say hit me in the forehead like a baseball bat. I could feel the impact of his words physically as well as mentally. He told me that it wasn't my fault at all. Not at all. Not at all? What? I didn't know what to think. In fact, I was having great difficulty thinking at all. In that moment, I felt as though any number of random, impossible things could start happening. Up was down, air was soup... would the coffee table and tissue box in front of me start levitating for no apparent reason? Was I dreaming? What?

He pretty much had to spell it out for me a bit at a time. I was raped and it wasn't my fault. Someone had taken gross advantage of me, had taken away my ability to say no by deceptively plying me with hard liquor and telling me that it would help me with my persistant, scary, asthma and bronchitis-induced coughing.

Let me back up a little. My lungs were filled with a lot of fluid at the time and I was having a lot of trouble breathing. I was very scared as I had never been so sick before and thought I might even be dying. Years later, after many such episodes, I would come to understand that this recurring condition is just a severely unpleasant (though potentially fatal, if unchecked) consequence of my ashtma. If I get a cold, it often settles dangerously in my chest and lingers there for weeks, if not months. Sometimes I have to to to the hospital for a breathing treatment and a healthy dose of steroids. At the time, however, seventeen years old and clueless, I had no idea what was happening to me. It was so hard to breathe... I remember deliberately not breathing several times for as long as possible just to let my body rest for a moment. Taking the next breath was such a painful chore... I wasn't sure if I even wanted to keep on trying.

To make matters worse, I was alone. I was living at my grandparent's house at the time and they had decided to go spend a couple of days with the extended family in Kentucky. Although my grandfather was in the early stages of alzheimer's and thus unable to understand the severity of the situation, I remember feeling that my grandmother was in denial (as she often is) about how serious my illness had gotten. I was so disappointed in her. It certainly didn't inspire me to want to fight my illness any more. Although she expressed concern, she wasn't about to let it interfere with her chance to go "down home" for a couple of days. She wasn't about to walk all the way back upstairs to check on me again on account of her bad knee and stultifying laziness. It wasn't the first time she had let me down... goodness knows it wouldn't be the last.

So I was in the house alone. I was scared and bereft of anyone to care for me. Although I was used to both fear and emotional deprivation due to an absent father and years of emotional abuse by my alcoholic, mentally unstable mother, I was totally unprepared for just how desperate and lonely I would feel. This was new and, though I'd been contemplating suicide since the ripe old age of nine or so thanks to Mom's constant assurances that I was nothing but a "little shit" and a thankless burden, I didn't want to die for some strange reason. Especially alone. Not like that... it was just too sudden and scary and helpless.

I stumbled out of bed and made my way carefully down the dark staircase. I felt very weak and tired. I made my way to the phone and called the only number that I knew would reach someone available right then... my friends and boyfriend were all working at the time. That left my mother's house. Any port in a storm, I guessed. My stepfather answered. My mother was out doing something at the time, it seemed, though I can't recall what. She never did get out much, preferring instead to sit around the kitchen drinking Milwakee's Best Light until the garbage overflowed with spent cans. To this day, whenever I hear the sound of an empty can rattling around, I have a flashback of living in that house. On one occasion, I asked her about it... why she was drinking so many beers. She made her usual defiant reply that she had only drank two of them. When I pointed out that the now-stuffed trash can had been practically empty that morning, she got very angry and proceeded to change the topic to what a bad person I was. She just loved regaling me with observations on that topic... I've spent many a four-hour time slot being baraged with manic assertions of my own wickedness alternating with crazed, tearful tellings and retellings of the physical abuse she endured at the hands of various husbands and boyfriends. I hate that goddamn kitchen table. My childhood was slowly murdered at it. Over the course of several years, I was forced to sit there and try to comfort my abuser in the barren hope that she would cheer up and leave me alone or at the very least not take her hatred of life out on me. It almost never worked. She vacillated between states of misery and rage wildly and with little to no provocation. As a child growing up alone in that house, I did the best I could to learn from and adapt to her chaotic moodswings, attempting to pick up on the subtle hints of body language that signaled a coming shift from one state to the other. It rarely helped, but on the occasions that it did, the relief was such that all my efforts felt worth it. What I wouldn't give, after all, for a single hour's reprieve from the terrible onslaught that awaited me every evening at the hands of that madwoman. I was completely helpless in that house and, though I hated what she did to me, I couldn't help but pity her for her suffering. I couldn't help but be hurt by her plain-to-see hatred of me and her jealous wrath when anything seemed to go right in my life. I still wanted to be loved so badly, to be told that I wasn't so bad. I learned to hate not only life, but myself, deep inside. She constantly reminded me that life is a malevolent, painful thing and insisted that the rug would be pulled out from under me every time things seemed to be going well. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy; not only did she make damn sure that I suffered for all of my sucesses, she railed at me until I was mistrustful of them as well. She planted a seed of doubt and pessimism that she tirelessly nurtured with her constant negativity.

My, what a digression. And just when I was getting to the good part... well, I suppose it's best to release these things in the order in which they well up. I have a lot of pain to work through before I can truly see things clearly.

For years, I carried this... "thing" around in my chest. It felt like a physical object, a shard of glass or something, was lodged in there. When something would hit me just the right way, it would crack through my carefully constructed shell and I would start bleeding inside all over again. I mention all this to illustrate the circumstances that led to me being sick and alone at my grandparent's house that night. I was utterly miserable both inside and out... and so alone. So, when my stepfather offered to come over and keep me company, I said sure. Why not? He might make the same old suggestive comments as ever, groping me whenever he felt like it, but at least I wouldn't be alone. My mother and grandmother both knew about the groping and the comments... I had told them about it several times. I remember that it was hard to do because not only was it embarassing, but I had the unshakable impression that I was "ratting someone out." What if he found out about it and got angry? What if he really didn't mean anything by it, despite how uncomfortable it made me? I was seventeen and very jaded, but still a child.

My family's response? Grandma: "Well, it isn't really hurting anything. Sucks that you dislike it. What would you like for dinner?" Mom: "You're such a prude. What's wrong with you?"

Yeah. I fell through so many cracks I still can't believe it. In high school, I inevitably began exhibiting several symptoms of depression. A teacher finally noticed and pulled me aside to give me some advice... yay, right? Wrong. Her advice? "You wear your heart on your sleeve. You shouldn't act like that in front of people." Gee thanks, teach. So much for having anyone in my corner. To be fair, my boyfriend at the time tried his best to be supportive, but he was a real marshmallow. What's a teenage boy supposed to do with all this baggage and craziness in a world where every adult seemed to have it in for me? Plus I was a wreck. My physics teacher was both a moron and a pervert and no girl who didn't stay after school regularly to be "tutored" i.e., get a nice, creepy shoulder massage, had a chance. At first, I taught myself physics from the textbook, but when my answers were the same as the ones as the back of the book and they were still "wrong," I talked to my mother about it. What a waste of time. She totally pulled a grandma and did nothing about it, saying that the guy was old so he probably had tenure and couldn't be fired. Without even trying. Oh, well... at least she gave me permission to fail the class. Thanks so much, Mom. Jesus.

I also had another student in my class that was tirelessly hitting on me. It was disgusting... he was disgusting. Not only unattractive, but just plain creepy. When I couldn't take any more of his gross, persistant attempts to get in my pants, I told my boyfriend, the marshmallow. Unfortunately, he was the type of person who wouldn't stand up to a flea and only offered moral support. Marshmallow! Anyway, when that wasn't good enough, I gathered up my courage and had a nice little chat about it with one of my teachers, who happened to be a priest. Guess how that went? Oh, just guess. Ding, ding, we have a winner! "So he hasn't actually touched you? Sorry, can't help you." Lovely.

Fortunately the last two situations eventually resolved themselves as I gradually became a grumpy husk of a person that no one wanted to hit on. Well, no one except my stepfather.

Do you get the sense that I'm going out of my way to avoid the topic du jour? So do I... though I don't consciously mean to. Well, let's get to it, then. The point is that at this time I had an established pattern of being victimized and told that there was nothing that could be done about it. I was alone in my corner, sick and tired... literally. Just so worn down emotionally. When my stepfather came over, I was already feeling a little bit better from getting up and moving around. Previously, I had been laying on my back, which was a dangerous mistake. I didn't know it, but I had making my condition worse by forcing the congestion to settle into my lungs. Now I know better and I try to sleep sitting up if I'm sick like that.

Anyway, I was feeling a bit better the more I made myself get up and move around. After my stepfather came over and we chatted for a bit, he suggested that perhaps a bit of "grandpa's cough medicine" would help. In other words, whiskey. Really? I wondered. He said that it could help me to work up some of the stuff in my lungs. Well, that sure sounded nice. Miserable as I was, I also thought it might be nice to cop a bit of a buzz to make myself feel better. Now I'd had alcohol before... liquor even, in small amounts. Nothing extreme... just raiding the liquor cabinet to try some things at a friend's house, drinking just enough to feel the effects. That kind of thing. I'd never been really drunk before. I'd never had the means. My stepfather graciously offered to drive us up to the local Marathon station and buy us some alcohol. I wasn't sure about leaving the house, even for a little while, but I was starting to think that the fresh air might do me even more good. God knows grandma wouldn't lift a finger to dust her own house and it was quite stuffy in there. Okay, why not. Sure, let's do it.

So we went. Sure enough, the fresh air did help and I felt a little bit better still. Still very shitty, but hopeful and relieved. I remember that I was intimidated by the thought of whiskey for some reason and asked him if he thought a bottle of long island iced tea would help instead. Somehow it sounded less daunting. He shrugged that he didn't see why not. Cool... except that we all know how the story ends. I was so excited to have a possible means of feeling better and so utterly clueless about how to drink responsibly that I drank way too much too fast and ended up getting quite intoxicated. I remember thinking that the drink sure couldn't have much iced tea in it because it was really strong and didn't taste good at all. Ah, what an innocent kid. To this day I have no idea what was in that pre-made mixed drink because I've never wanted to drink it again, but wikipedia assures me that it usually consists of equal parts vodka, gin, tequila, and rum, among other things. Jesus, no wonder I got so trashed. I probably hadn't eaten anything in a long time, either. Eating's hard when you're fighting for every breath.

Anyway, the point is that I was pretty messed up and certainly not in a clear-thinking state of mind... not that I'd been before the addition of the alcohol, but still. It was a new sensation: the numbness and false sense of cheer was making me feel even better, though it was clearly artificial. It was then that my stepfather started being his usual, lecherous self again. Less concern, more lewd comments and such. He leered at me suggestively from across the table. Gross. Suddenly, I had an idea. It was a strange one, but it just might work. Since I knew from previous experience that resistance of any kind was worthless... maybe if I let him... ick... have his way with me, just once, he would have what he wanted and leave me alone for good. Maybe I had finally found a way out, I thought. Maybe then it could finally stop! Of course, I would have to pretend to like it -- gross -- but I thought I could manage that, thanks to the alcohol. Maybe I'd get lucky and not even remember it. Suddenly the whole thing seemed like too good a deal to pass up. Besides, I remember thinking, I can't stand myself anyway and I probably deserve this, if not worse. Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll die of exertion or shame. That would be nice. Fuck it.

So that's how it happened. It wasn't easy to pretend that I was actually enjoying the nastiness that followed. I had to ask him to do me from behind just because I couldn't stand looking at him. Even then, I still had to beg him to finish... but I was careful to do so as if it was what I wanted. I had to keep my pain inside, where it belonged. Maybe it would finally do me in. No such luck.

Afterwards, he put the nail in the coffin by thanking me. You know, in the warm, sincere way that you would thank someone for letting you borrow some money or use their car or something. He said that it was his dream come true. I wish he'd just smacked me instead. It was like rubbing salt in a wound... those words have haunted me for years now. I couldn't kick him out fast enough. I needed to be alone after that.

He didn't want to leave, but I insisted that I had friends coming over and it might not look good if he was still hanging around my grandparent's house. Thankfully, he saw the sense in that. I called my friends and boyfriend (not the marshmallow one, he was out of the picture by then), who were free by then, and asked them to come over and hang out because I had the place to myself. I also took a bath. I sat there, feeling shocked and numb, staring at a few smallish bruises on my legs and wondering how they'd gotten there. I didn't even know. My mind had been on vacation for the last hour or so. Someplace lovely and dark where I could wrap my self-loathing around myself like a warm blanket.

By the time my friends showed up, I was a freakin' wreck. Still drunk, artificially exhuberant, and probably more than a little crazed-looking. I didn't tell them what had just happened, of course. I was embarassed and I knew that they wouldn't understand. How could they? "Yeah, hey, nice to see you. Don't mind the dissheveled appearance and the drunkenness, I just gave my nasty old stepdad free reign to rut on me like the town whore. Oh, don't worry, it's okay because that's how I'm going to get him to stop hitting on me." Yeah, right. Even though I was still drunk, it was starting to make a lot less sense. In fact, I immediately grabbed my boyfriend and without explaining myself pretty much demanded that he sleep with me right then. I badly needed to put as much distance between myself and that last encounter as I possibly could -- starting NOW. Unsurprisingly, he didn't question it much and I practically threw him into the bedroom and proceeded to try and forget all about what I had just been through. Messed up, huh? Well, strange as it sounds, I genuinely hadn't been expecting to survive what I had just been through. I didn't know what to do now that it looked like I wasn't going to die from it. I tried to erase it the only way I knew how. What a mess.

My friends were no doubt very confused, but it wasn't entirely unlike me to go to extremes of behavior since I was more than a little unstable at the time, both before and after the rape. The event had done so much worse than kill me, it had tainted me somehow. Now I really was as terrible and wretched as my mother had always told me I was. If I'd had any chance at redemption, I had destroyed it with this one foolish act. This choice. Look what I had allowed to happen! Look what I had done! It didn't matter that I had been seriously ill, emotionally abused, sexually harassed, and utterly wasted. Those were excuses, I told myself. It was easy to believe it. I already hated myself. Accepting was just the next logical step. I watched as my last surviving scrap of dignity burned into nothingness. I did this to myself, I thought.

True to form, things got much worse before they got better. Much worse. To begin with, of course my stepfather didn't stop hitting on me. Of course not. That only got worse... ickier. I was grateful that the alcohol had shielded me from the bulk of the memories, but what remained was all too clear. I had to see it in his eyes. Every time he looked at me, I could see it. Yes, it was so much worse. I felt very grateful to be living at my grandparents' house so that I didn't have to see him too often after that. I was still living in the house where it had happened though, so even then there was no escape.

Not to mention the fact that I had to see him at work several times a week. Oh, guess what... I forgot to mention that thanks to my mother's wheedling, I had quit my old job several months ago and gone to work for the same goddamn market research business that my stepfather worked for. So I had to look at his creepyass face several times a week from across the room in the call center. To make matters worse, I could tell beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had told one of his coworkers about it. The coworker clearly blamed me for what had happened... I sometimes caught him giving me disapproving glares when he thought I wasn't looking. Who knew what he'd told our coworker? Who knew what the guy thought of me, only having heard my stepfather's side of the story? I'm sure it wasn't flattering, as I often saw him trying very hard not to show his disgust when he was required to talk to me. It was such a sudden shift of attitude for him that it was obvious he must know something. Though I burned with shame every day, I dared say nothing. I did my best to act as if nothing was different by day and got as stoned as I could manage by night. Pot helped me disconnect from reality and numbed the pain nicely.

It took me six years to dig myself out of my pot-induced stagnation. After a while, it had just become a habit, anyway. I don't have a problem with occasional pot use, I just don't care for using it to duck out from life. Not for me, anyway. I'm done with all that. I think it's been four or five years now since I've smoked it at all. Funny to think of that now... the person I was then. Now I'm a wife and mother... a housewife and mother, thank you very much. I love my job. I'm pretty damn good at it, I think. Not today, though. Today I wrote a longass blog and let the dishes pile up in the sink. Christ, there's still half-eaten apple slices from lunch sitting on my son's highchair. You know what? My husband can take care of that today. Mama's taking the day off... because life is good right now, despite a really bad start. And I deserve it.

It's taken over eleven years for me to get to this point. I can start to believe, with the help of some loving friends and a medical professional, that what that man did to me was, in fact, rape. I just have to keep reminding myself that it what it was for so many reasons... because he took away my ability to say no to him through the deceptive use of alcohol... because even wasted as I was, I never wanted it, so it wasn't truly consensual (saith my doctor)... and because the state of Ohio says that there is no such thing as consensual sex between a stepparent and child, due to the nature of the family unit and the state's interest in protecting it. So it looks like I'm cleared socially, medically, and even legally. And I never even expected it... wow.

This will take a while to fully sink in. It's a real roller coaster. Pro: It's not my fault. Con: I got raped.

That's it, I'm ordering a pizza tonight. I am so not cooking dinner.

More Snow?

2009-01-27T09:38:00.006-05:00

It's snowing right now. Everything outside is draped in a soft, white blanket about three inches thick. I've got my bedroom blinds up so that I can watch the large, puffy flakes careen by. There is a row of Rose of Sharon bushes just outside the window... dessicated seed pods collect small cups of snow where where Summer's blooms once sat. I feel inspired to write a poem right now.

Rose of Sharon

The scent washes over me painfully
From the depth of old clothes.
Clutching desperately,
I inhale deeply with clenched lids.

Snowflakes speed by the window
Against a frozen backdrop.
Clusters of white on a nearby bush
Adorn fragile husks of waiting seeds;
A cold chalice fills the blossom's grave.

After days untold
The snow will melt,
Dissolving into cool waters
Whose rivulets seep unnoticed
Into the patient earth.

I grasp the fabric memory
Stubbornly against my chest;
Winter makes her own flowers.

Wow, that was wonderful to write. Cathartic, even. I wanted to capture the feeling of having lost someone and correlate it metaphorically to the experience of Winter, which, though it seems to last forever, always relents into Spring. The subject of the poem does not wish to move on though clearly life is going on around her regardless (symbolized by the rushing snowfall and her separation from it through the window). In fact, the passage of time is so painfully slow and mocking for the subject that it only feeds her desire to hold on to the memory of the lost loved one. If you've ever lost anyone or anything important to you, perhaps you can understand the frame of mind that I am attempting to convey with this poem.

I haven't felt inspired to write a plain old poem in over ten years. That was fun!

The Littleist Love of my Life

2009-01-26T12:41:00.001-05:00

I love my son. He is so sweet and wonderful. Yesterday he kept handing me the our portable phone (he loves to play with it and we indulge him as he has yet to accidentally call anyone other than the operator) and saying "hewwo!" He loves to do that. I'm going to go change his diaper and make him a little lunch right now. BRB.

Done! Right now he's eating a tofurkey and provolone sandwich on hearty whole wheat bread with a bit of mayo, some sliced apple, and a few sliced black olives. He loves to put the black olive slices onto the tips of his small fingers before he eats them. So cute!

I tried giving him a frozen carrot to help with his recent teething the other day, but it didn't work out quite right. He kept waving it around like a magic wand instead of chewing on it, so I took a small bite to show him that it was food. Delighted, he shoved the carrot in my face over and over, attempting to feed me like one of the animals at the petting zoo. When I refused to eat any more, he went over to my husband and shoved it up against his face. Sighing, my husband took a bite and chewed morosely. Unfortunately, this merely fueled my son's desire to continue to feed us and we finally gave up after several minutes. It was very cute, though... I guess it reminded him of feeding carrots to the sheep and miniature pony at the local pumpkin farm last fall. I think his teething has begun to subside for now though because he's stopped trying to gnaw on various things around the house. (Thank goodness.)

Here's a recent pic of him being a cutie in his widdle overalls.

Well, that's all that's going on for now. Just wanted to give you an update about the littleist love of my life. :)

Foodles McDoodles

2009-01-10T16:13:00.013-05:00

Right now the husband's out buying himself a new pair of work shoes and getting a haircut. Piggy is enjoying a late nap, also. Since I have some unexpected time on my hands, I thought I'd take this chance to blog about one of my favorite things... FOOD!

This is my very first actual bento box that I prepared for my husband's lunch the other day. Starting at the top left there's: a wonderful peanut butter cup cookie-thingy that a friend made, a double-compartmented container filled with ketchup and sweet and sour sauce, some cute little cut-out carrot slices, some vegetarian "chicken" nuggets, cheesy scalloped potatoes, and buttery baby lima beans. It was so much fun putting everything together! I love the little metal cutter set that I got for cutting out flower shapes from vegetable slices. I also got some awesome rice and hard-boiled egg molds too, which I'll post pictures of later as I get into using them.

Here's a shot of the bento box itself, complete with a small set of chopsticks set into the inside of the top lid and a kinchaku, or cloth carrying pouch.

It's so cute! I love the cute little "Engrish" message written on it: You can enjoy a happy and merry time. Adorable.

I bought bento boxes for my son and I too. I'll show you pictures of them later when they're filled with foody goodness.

This morning I made one of my favorite things for breakfast: cornmeal mush. I was excited to finally use the glass double-boiler that my mother-in-law gave me on my birthday. If you've never had it, cornmeal mush is a lot like polenta. It's made using regular cornmeal instead of the coarse stuff so it has a more silken texture, rather like cream of wheat. When it's done cooking, you can either eat it in a bowl topped with a pat of butter and drizzled in honey, molasses, or maple syrup, or you can place it in a loaf pan to chill until firm then slice it up and fry it in butter before drizzling it in one of the above. My favorite is to just eat it soft with both honey for sweetness and molasses for richness. It's wonderful and I highly recommend it. I use the recipe from one of my all-time favorite cookbooks, the Joy of Cooking's "All About Breakfast." Just take a cup of cornmeal, a cup of cold water, and a teaspoon of salt and whisk them together in a double boiler. It will be wet and grainy-looking. Then whisk in (a cup at a time) two cups of boiling water and two cups of boiling milk. Turn the stove on medium heat and let the mixture cook for about fifteen to twenty minutes, or until thick. Whisk it every couple of minutes so that it cooks evenly and doesn't stick to the bottom. Then spoon into bowls and serve however you like it while it's piping hot and delicious. You'll be amazed how much mush you get out of just one cup of cornmeal... enough to make four bowls! I always do a half recipe to feed our little family. It's quite filling. It can also be made vegan if you substitute the butter and milk for soy margarine and soy milk. ;)

Here's what it looks like as it thickens and cooks.

Please don't be put off by the twenty-minute cooking time. It really is simple and idiot-proof... just don't crank up the heat or forget to stir it every couple of minutes and you'll be fine. Plus, since it pretty much takes care of itself during that time, it gives you plenty of time to work on other breakfast-y treats while you wait.

This is my all-time favorite way to eat scrambled eggs: stuffed with browned russet potato cubes and fresh, diced jalapenos. These days, I remove the seeds and inner membrane of the jalapeno to keep the dish mild for my son. He loves it.

Add a few slices of Bartlett pear and a couple of unseasonably tasty strawberries, and Happy Breakfast to Me!

Well, that's it for now. See you later, everyone! Happy Breakfasts!

How I Spent My Christmas Vacation

2009-01-03T15:56:00.019-05:00

It's been a great couple of weeks. I meant to write this post sooner, but the last few days have been spent unpacking our luggage, catching up on chores and laundry, taking down the Christmas tree, and trying to figure out where to put all of the new presents. We've been resting a bit off and on, but there's been plenty to do. The bedroom still needs to be dusted and is an undeniable mess. The baby's new foam blocks and toys are strewn everywhere. Fortunately, the hubster has volunteered to help me out with that today... whenever I feel like I'm done chilling out, that is. Yesterday I spent most of the day doing three loads of laundry, dusting the living room, cooking breakfast and dinner, and ironing some of my more wrinkle-prone garments. I'm in no hurry to resume housework duties just yet.

Okay, okay, about Christmas in the cabin: it was really nice. My mother-in-law brought the little plastic tree that we used last year and I fluffed and decorated it for an hour with the cute little ornaments that she had bought on her recent trip to Germany. Among the decorations was a set of small, pink candles and candleholders mounted on clips meant to be fastened onto several of the outer branches. I regarded them with suspicion and fear. I had heard several stories of how my mother-in-law's boyfriend had grown up in a very German household that upheld the mind-boggling tradition of decorating the tree with candles and actually lighting them on Christmas... I guess that's where our modern tradition of Christmas tree lights comes from. Since the in-laws had only recently spent time in Germany with some family members, I was wondering if their newly-discovered passion for all things German was about to reach a new, insane height. I took a deep breath and, with my back turned, asked in my most innocent tone of voice, "So, um... are we, uh... planning on lighting these candles at some point?"

"Oh, yes!" My mother-in-law answered exhuberently, "On Christmas."

"Ah," I replied, tremendously grateful that I'd thought to hide my face before asking. "How neat." I concluded with artifical enthusiasm, trying not to sweat. I was going to have to think of a way out of this looming disaster. Wooden A-frame walls and triangular pillars of flame do not mix.

Thankfully, the issue was resolved on its own when her boyfriend noted that the slanted walls did not seem to have insulation... fire-proof insulation. This put him right off the idea, though my mother-in-law pouted and simpered about it for the next couple of days. My husband's mom is the kind of person that brings to mind the phrase "like a kid in a candy store"... the point of interest being that the description isn't limited to one specific place or activity. Life is her candy store. As a result, she's often fun to be around, but not quite safety-minded enough for her own good... or anyone else's. Last Christmas, when she and my husband impetuously scrambled up the sides of a huge, damp boulder bordering a waterfall with my infant son strapped to her chest, I helplessly choked and spluttered admonishments at them, too shocked for words. Her boyfriend regarded me with a sympathetic smile as if to say, "I know, I know... but it's who they are. Don't worry, they'll come out of this okay. Somehow, they always do." He and I have exchanged many such glances over the years. Fortunately, her boyfriend is a lot like me in the "safe and staid" department. Meeting his gaze, I was able to relax a little as the people we loved most in the world teetered and slid atop the slick rock, holding each other and laughing like children while they cheerfully asked us to take pictures of their folly. But that was last year's Christmas, and I digress.

This year we also experienced our share of waterfalls and cliffs, though at Old Man's Cave and Cedar falls instead of last year's Cumberland. There was one perfect day when the weather took a turn for the miraculous -- mid-sixties and sunny -- so we donned our jackets, pocketed our cameras, and drove to the nearby parks to explore. The water flowed cold but unhindered by ice as it made its way over rocks and through valleys. The woods were surprisingly verdant with hemlock trees, firs, brilliantly chartruese mosses, and cheerful ferns that beconed welcomingly in the breeze. I observed aloud to my mother-in-law that the ferns, which trimmed the edges of nearly every trail we encountered, seemed rather like the cheerleaders of the forest. "Sis-boom-ba!" I recited, skipping a bit through a small clearing, "Welcome to our forest!"

She laughed, approving, and repeated my comment to her boyfriend. I made a mental note to write a haiku about my observation later, which I completed just the other day.

The Trails of Hocking

Bright ferns, cheerleaders
Of the forest, dance lithely
At the path’s edges.

Well, enough about that. After all, a picture's worth a thousand words, isn't it?

It was an amazing day. It had rained on most of the other days that we were there, so my husband and I got our wish of sitting around the cabin fulfilled. It even rained a bit when we were in the hot tub sometimes. Here's a view of the hot tub from our upstairs bedroom window.

The cabin was fairly secluded and surrounded by lots of private trails. We went out to enjoy them one evening just as the sun was setting. The scenery wasn't as dramatic as the state parks, but the sunset was beautiful.

While we were in the area, we also stopped by our favorite pottery shop, the Hocking House. It's owned and operated by a husband and wife who make everything they sell. The wife designs some particularly unique pieces based on plant life and I've been collecting her work since my first visit there four years ago. This time I bought a cute little cup and bowl set for my rice and tea.

I also beefed up my teacup and saucer set collection at a local antique mall.

The set in the back is the one that my mother-in-law recently purchased for me in England. The others are from the antique mall. The one on the left is a Wedgewood set, the one on the right is from Japan, and the one in front is Bavarian bone china. I usually avoid animal products like bone china, but since it's old and used I don't feel bad about it this time. :)

Well, that's all I've got for now... I need to finish knitting my Bella mittens!

Christmas in the Cabin

2008-12-19T12:07:00.016-05:00

I'm really looking forward to this particular Christmas because we'll be spending it at a lovely cabin in Hocking Hills. My husband and I stayed in one of the cabins there four years ago for our honeymoon and it was wonderful. Almost all of the cabins are pleasantly isolated on vast plots of land and come equipped with hot tubs, fireplaces, outdoor fire rings, and extensive private trails through the ancient woods. Our only regret after our previous time there was not spending enough time in the cabin. We had hiked many of the public park trails, which were AMAZING and filled with wonder at every turn... humongous trees, boulders, waterfalls, and natural rock formations most particularly. I really had a great time doing all that, but it was quite tiring for us. This time, due to the cold weather and the toddler, we'll no doubt get our wish to spend more time luxuriating in the lovely cabin and hot tub and enjoying the local wildlife. I still plan on checking out the private trails a bit as well as visiting a public park trail which is bedecked with Christmas lights this time of year, rather like the Cincinnati Zoo's Festival of Lights... but in the woods! Neat, huh?

Here are some pictures of the cabin taken from the company's website. I'll add some of my own when I get back and post another entry about it.

Lovely, huh? I can't wait to...

1.) sink my fingers into that cute little kitchen and cook up a few gutbusting breakfasts!
2.) knit by the indoor fireplace for hours.
3.) build a fire in the fire ring outdoors and sit there with a warm cup of tea / hot chocolate / coffee / mulled mead.
4.) drink a little too much wine in the hot tub.
5.) go trailblazing in the woods with the hubster while the in-laws babysit!

I wonder what wildlife we'll see this time? Last time, there was a flock of wild turkeys in the driveway, a feral cat that hung around begging for tablescraps, and a family of deer that walked right up to the large glass door in the back of the cabin while the rain spattered gently on the porch. Apparently there are a lot of bird feeders on this particular plot of land, so the office attendant advised us to bring some birdseed so that we can enjoy them. That will be nice. I promise to take lots of cool pictures of whatever doesn't run away!

Well, that's about it. I am so looking forward to this! Merry Christmas, everyone. I'll see you when I get back! Bye!

Haiku-tacular!

2008-12-16T19:43:00.005-05:00

We had our first snow of the year today. It was barely an inch, but it covered everything in a light blanket of snow that is just lovely to behold. Here's a haiku about it!

Breath of The Earth

Fresh snow has fallen,
Sheathing the earth in pallor.
The wind blows gently.

It probably isn't really proper to entitle haiku poems, but I prefer it for my writing style because it helps me provide insight into the nature and mood of the haiku. I wrote a few more that I'll go ahead and share with you en masse because I've been letting them build up for a few days.

Yarn-licious

Yarn isn't yummy,
Though that's what I keep hearing.
My mouth feels fuzzy.

Resignation

I had a bad dream.
The submarine was sinking!
We waited for death.

Nightmare #2

Slick and stained with blood,
The brain, clasped in iron jaws,
Looked somehow alive.

I realize that the last two are crazy negative and creepy, but they were based on a couple of nightmares that I had last week and I wanted to record the feel of them before they were forgotten. In the second nightmare, "Nightmare #2", I was stuck in some kind of hellish place collecting the iron-encased body parts of a demonic child-being in order to reanimate it against my will. Now what the hell does that mean?!

Anyway, I promise that I'll post later with details on the cabin that I'll be staying at for the holidays. I'll make sure to do it before I depart for my vacation so you can salivate with jealousy. ;) Here's hoping that I don't have too much mead and fall off a cliff on one of the mountain trails!

Oh, and thanks everyone for the wonderful Christmas gifts yesterday! You guys rock. (And so do the people who didn't know to participate, so stop beating yourselves up! :) ) Later!

Cookie-riffic

2008-12-15T03:28:00.012-05:00

Hey, y'all. I'm up way past my bedtime again, dithering around yarn.com to decide what color I would like to make the Bella mittens in. I've finally decided that a nice, warm, chocolaty brown like the pattern's designer used is best. It really shows off the cabling and is nice and neutral so it won't clash with my bright skirts and such. It took me a long time to come to this conclusion because I've been knitting almost exclusively with brown yarn lately. I am so sick of it I could scream. I'm thirsting for some color! There are some beautiful colors of Cascade 109 available on yarn.com and they're all on sale. I wants them! Ugh... maybe I'll knit them in Evergreen, after all. (Like how I just changed my mind mid-post like that? Sigh...)

I think the mittens will end up being my next project. As much as I'm looking forward to a foray into the addictive world of sock knitting, I really need a new pair of mittens. Fortunately, this one's worked up with bulky yarn, so they shouldn't take long to complete. Man, am I glad that I bought those miniature circular needles for sock knitting. After knitting the pants for my son, the hat for my dad, and these damn mittens for Gordon, I think I'd rather stick my size 8 double-points into my own eyeballs than into a skein of yarn. Here's a haiku about it!

Time For a Change

I'm sick and tired
Of knitting with double-points.
Somebody shoot me.

I spent all weekend baking the cookies for my Christmas cookie trays. I think I'm actually glad to see the week beginning. I like Mr. Oven, but he's not much of a conversationalist. That and I think the kitchen needed to be cleaned down three separate times in two days due to the whirlwind of flour and sugar. Good times. Here's some of the fruits of my labor:

My husband and I always decorate the gingerbread cookies together. It's a little tradition for us that I started four or five years ago. This year, I used the new Christmas cutters that my mother-in-law got me for my birthday last month. They're huge and I love them! This year we did something different and I decorated all of the snowflakes while the hubster decorated all of the gingerbread peeps. Superman is one of his favorite designs, but a new idea that he had this year was "topless muscle guy", which is my new favorite. He's very inventive. I'm better at pretty swishes and swirls, so our respective cookie types worked out great for us both.

Well, I'm gonna buy that cheap yarn and hit the hay soon. It's four-freakin' thirty again. Why do I keep doing this to myself?!

Making Stuff

2008-12-12T00:32:00.024-05:00

Today I made a lot of things. Well, just three things, really... but they kept me busy enough.

I make my own homemade whole wheat crust. It's nice and soft and tasty to dip in garlic butter. :) Also, see how my son always eats his pizza upside down.

I had some extra egg whites sitting around, so I made a small batch of meringues. They're still drying out in the oven now. I've decided to go ahead and make my cookie trays this weekend so that 1.) I'll be able to bring one in to my friends at art night on Monday; and 2.) because it's a bit early in the huge wave of Christmas desserts so I know that my cookie gifts are more likely to get eaten than lost in a crowd of holiday goodies. Besides, I was looking forward to it too much to wait any longer. This weekend I'll be baking: honey nut bars (my favorite), peanut butter kisses, raspberry jam bars made with my homemade jam, a new recipe for earl grey tea cookies, snickerdoodles (freakin' yum!), and the obligatory decorated gingerbread cutouts. It's a tradition for my husband and I to decorate the gingerbread cookies together. One year, he made a gingerbread man that looked just like Superman, with the spitcurl hairdo and everything. He also made one with a penis... sigh...

On a side note, the hubster accidentally "called in gay" to work yesterday. He occasionally has very painful abdominal cramps and woke up unexpectedly in a lot of pain very early yesterday morning. (Yours truly had just barely gone to bed...) He left a couple of messages on his supervisors' voicemails and spent the day at home resting. Fortunately, he felt better in just a couple of hours. Well, later that night we were watching The Tonight Show and Jay Leno was talking about how it had been "call in gay" day, where gay employees were encouraged to call off of work in order to show what a difference they make in the workplace. I nearly screamed in a wild fit of laughter as I put it all together: my husband had been feeling so ill that he hadn't even bothered to specify exactly what was wrong with him that morning... no doubt it looked very much like he called in gay! Sure enough, several of his coworkers ribbed him about it all day long. Apparently no one else had called in gay... just my husband. :D

Anyway, back to making stuff. I was due to make a batch of soap today so I thought I'd take the opportunity to record some of the stages of my soapmaking to share with everyone. It's a very neat and, well... dangerous process. It requires the use of lye, also known as caustic soda, which reacts with the fatty acids present in oils to cause a process referred to as saponification. Basically it's what makes soap soap. Lye is a perfectly natural substance; back in the old days it was formed by dripping water through wood ashes. The water would dissolve some of the compounds present in the ash and become extremely alkaline. Now, lye is something that you don't ever, ever want to handle lightly. I've made soap several times now and I've only recently stopped being scared of it but I will never stop being respectful of it. Basically, if you get it on your skin, it will burn you just like a strong acid. You have to keep a soapy vinegar-water mixture on hand at all times to neutralize any lye solution that gets on the soap utensils or (heaven forbid) yourself. You also need to keep a window open when dissolving the lye in the water because it makes a very strong-smelling gas that isn't a pleasure to inhale, let me tell you. Also, it helps to have all other family members shut out of the room to minimize the possibility of accidents.

Now that I've scared the hell out of you, you're probably wondering why I would want to make my own soap in the first place. Lots of reasons. First off, you only have to deal with the lye part for a few moments, so as long as you take the proper precautions it's no big deal. Secondly, my soap is cruelty-free, vegan, all natural, and contains vegetable glycerin and oils that are good for the skin. Thirdly, I can make the soap using fine essential oils and end up with great soaps that would sell in a store for much more than it costs me to make it. (Buying the oils in bulk -- and knowing where to get them -- is the crucial part there.)

These are some of the basic supplies and equipment. The crock pot speeds up the process of saponification through heat. It's a fast-results method called "hot process" soap making, as opposed to the "cold process" method, which requires that the soap be left to cure for weeks in a box so that when you take it out to use it, it doesn't melt your skin off. (No, thanks.) Inside the crock pot is a blend of oils, some of which have to be melted down before they can be used. Each oil has its own special role: the olive oil provides moisture, the coconut provides lather and hardness to the bar, and the castor oil is nourishing to the skin. I also use a good amount of canola oil to provide softness and lower the cost of the soap. The essential oils that I am using for this recipe is one of my favorite combinations: rosemary and lavender. The rosemary adds a hint of camphor to the cloyingly sweet lavender scent and makes it have a fresh, gender-neutral smell. Both oils also have natural antiseptic properties.

This is what the mixture looks like once the lye water (or lye tea, in this case... I prefer to use green tea as a base to provide extra vitamins and anti-oxidants) has been thoroughly blended into the oils. It looks much more like butterscotch pudding than soap, and has to be cooked with the lid on for about about a half hour before it is checked on.

Not quite ready. It needs to be stirred first and given a little more time. Note the shininess to the cooked outer portion. It's vegetable glycerin that forms as a natural by-product of saponification. When you buy soap from the grocery store (assuming it isn't made with detergents or animal fats), this valuable skin-nourishing portion of the soap is syphoned off, only to be put into lotions and sold right back to you. Nice, huh?

Now we're talkin'! Now the soap is fully saponified and ready to have the essential oils added (as well as a few tea leaves, to help exfoliate the skin). Then it gets spread into metal pan lined with oiled plastic to ensure that it comes out easily.

Almost done! The last thing (and one of the most important) is to check the pH level of the soap to make sure that it is safe. Anything below a 9.5 is acceptable, but the closer to 7 (neutral) the better.

Looks like this batch came out at about a 7.5, which is excellent. Tomorrow, after the soap has set, I can measure and cut the soap into bars for easy washing. I'll let you know how that turns out. I'd better get to knitting now or my last Christmas project will never get finished!!

The Case of the Stolen Meme

2008-12-09T13:53:00.006-05:00

Okay, so I'm stealing another meme from my craft buddy's blog. Hey, Vegan pal o' mine! How goes it? Anyway, here goes:

1. Eggnog or hot chocolate? Chai nog!

2. Does Santa wrap presents, or just sit them under the tree? I'm not raising my son to believe in Santa. I can't take advantage of his naivete and lie to him like that. (I know, I know... I'm a weirdo.)

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white? Solid, unblinking colors. Especially blue or white.

4. Do you hang mistletoe? No, but I keep meaning to start. Maybe this will be the year.

5. When do you put your decorations up? Black Friday.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish? My traditional Christmas breakfast. Apple raisin french toast casserole lightly drizzled in maple syrup with a side of vegetarian sausage patties and a green or red sugar-rimmed glass of egg nog garnished with a candy cane.

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child? Decorating the old plastic tree at my grandparents every year.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? I don't remember the particulars, but one day I started to add things up and asked my family point blank if Santa was actually real. Sensing my serious doubt, they leveled with me. I felt so taken advantage of and lied to, like the butt of a sick joke. And confused. "Why would you pretend that someone else gave me this stuff instead of taking the credit for spending your own hard-earned money?" I asked. "Because it's cute," they replied, as if that sentiment justified years of little white lies. I didn't get it. I still don't. Again, yes I'm aware that I'm a weirdo.
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9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? We open the contents of our stockings only. It's usually candy type stuff.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree? White tree with white lights, a silver bead garland, and blue and purple toned ornaments.

11. Snow! Love it or dread it? Love it. The more the better.

12. Can you ice skate? Not at all. The one time I did as a child, I busted my knee and bled all over the ice.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift? Every video game system that I've ever received for Christmas. This year it's a PS3.

14. What’s the most important thing about the holidays for you? Giving gifts to those I care about.

15. What is your favorite holiday dessert? Cookie trays.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition? Taking turns opening gifts and watching people's reactions.

17. What tops your tree? A glittery star made of silver wire and beads.

18.Which do you prefer: giving or receiving? Giving

19. What is your favorite Christmas song? Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg. Batmobile lost a wheel and Joker got away!
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20. Candy canes! Yuck or yum? Totally yum.

21. Hypothetically speaking, you have an uncle (or aunt) who is stinking rich. They ask you to give them a wish list for this Christmas with six items on it. You can ask for anything at all, as long as it's only for yourself. What are you going to wish for?

1. A fully-stocked tea room / yarn boutique!

2. The Batmobile. :)

3. A custom house with a lot of land for me to grow things.

4. A chicken coop with an adjoining fenced-in area for them to run around in.

5. Five million dollars, just because.

6. A teacup pig!

Yay, what fun! By the way, this is a teacup pig if you've never seen one before.

Isn't it adorable?!

An Interesting Turn of Events

2008-12-09T00:55:00.005-05:00

Right now, I should be frantically knitting the last eight-and-a-half rows of the Utopia Hat I'm working on so that I can go to bed. It's very late after all, and I certainly needs my beauty sleeps. However... I can't resist the urge to post a few thoughts here right now.

First off, the guy from the bookstore is, just as I anticipated, a blatantly untalented writer. Almost as bad, the subject matter was tedious in the extreme. I'll admit to a bit of piqued interest here and there at different points in the narrative, but that was mostly due to the recurring themes of ethics and morality, with which I have always had an intense fascination. Other than that, it was pretty much a total waste of time.

Some good did come of it, though. I've been feeling a strong pull towards doing a bit of my own writing lately, but I've been absolutely strapped for subject matter. (As you can no doubt tell from my last entry about what I bought at the Japanese market. ;) ) I apologize if my blog has been less than interesting to read of late, but lately I've found myself in the unenviable position of having much desire to write... but not much inspiration. Therefore, when I heard opportunity knock this evening in the form of a poor, hapless bastard with a heart full of dreams and a head full of mush, I jumped on it.

The thing is... as much as I like to bitch and kvetch about how frantic my life is during the hectic periods when I've got a million things going on, I have to admit that I thrive on the constant hum of activity and sense of accomplishment that accompanies these times. (Perhaps it's the ADD...) Anyway, things have been getting a bit dull around here lately. I haven't been super-busy with anything in a couple of weeks. I know that with the holiday coming, I'll soon be up to my eyeballs in cookie trays and god-knows-what, but that's cold comfort to me right now. I feel like a quivering little chihuahua... all jittery anticipation and not a damn thing to do with it. Here was the chance to do something good and constructive with all that energy and desire... to knock some sense into this poor yahoo for his own good before he suffers real disappoinment at the hands of a prospective publisher. Not that I'm necessarily expecting him to take my advice to heart, let alone follow it... but at least I'll have done my part. I'll have been a good little Buddhist and helped someone on the rewarding but often painful journey of self discovery that life drags us through, kicking and screaming. What he does with the experience is up to him.

Without further ado, allow me to present to you the letter which I drafted this evening in response to this peculiar homework assignment. I will print it off and deliver it to him as soon as possible when I return his manuscript to him. Ready? Here goes:

Looking at this document has been an interesting experience. Although I have only read as far as the first 25 pages or so, I have made several observations.

First of all, although I admire your desire to “determine the right forum to pursue (your) goals”, I strongly believe that continuing to commit to this project within the context of a manuscript intended for publication is not the ideal means for you to do so. To begin with, you had expressed in a conversation with my friend and I last week that one of your chief desires in publishing such a work is to make money. Let me be frank with you and state that I do not see this as a viable possibility. The target audience of the work is too specific; at times it is more like a treatise on the minutia of the P&G experience than a reference on how to realize one’s success within the context of corporate America. Therefore, the title is inappropriate and misleading. At other times, the work is more reflective in nature, suggestive of a diary or a weblog. In short, it vacillates between the feel of a misery-loves-company attempt to commiserate with one’s professional peers and the toneless meanderings of an ineffectual memoir – for, as you state yourself in the beginning, “(You) have had… no colossal failures… no earth-shattering successes.” Hence, no story.

Although it may certainly be possible to re-draft the work, to give it a total makeover into a more organized piece with a clearer focus, I do not necessarily recommend it. The style of the writing is such that, even with a serious overhaul of proofreading and editing, I do not see much potential. To be blunt, the writing isn’t engaging. It doesn’t grab the reader and make them want to turn the next page… and that’s something that you absolutely need when you’re working with such dry material as military training experience and corporate policy. Even with a total reworking of the concept to make it a more cohesive and focused work, I am skeptical that you will have more than a very small portion of your target audience willing to fork over your projected estimate of $14.99 to purchase a copy.

That having been said, I think that there is still some good to come of all your hard work. I think that working on this project has the potential to be very cathartic to you as you attempt to analyze and understand the series of events that led you to this point in your professional life. With that in mind, I suggest that you continue the project, but with the aim of attaining a more spiritual benefit than a financial one. Perhaps you can start a weblog and post your work, freely sharing your experiences with others and gaining invaluable additions to your network of friends and professional associates. Even if you just continue writing the work for yourself, it still has limitless potential to help you grow and think more critically about the questions that you continually ask yourself – and maybe even find some answers for them!

One last thing. Although I wish you the very best in whatever direction you choose to pursue with this endeavor, I would rather that you did not attempt to solicit any further insight or information from myself or any of my friends in this matter. To be completely honest, I am well aware that what I am doing here for you out of the goodness of my heart (and the boredom of my free time) is what many other people justifiably do for money. I must only conclude that you didn’t think your actions through to the fullest when you decided to try and waylay a group of total strangers into reading and reviewing your 150-page manuscript with no offer of compensation for the considerable amount personal time involved in such a pursuit. I will do you the courtesy of assuming that your actions, though certainly misguided, were made out of an unfortunate lack of social graces rather than a complete disregard for the value of other’s personal time. I hope that you may learn from this experience to not use other people’s inherent desire to be polite and accommodating to your advantage again. I would hate to think that the Procter and Gamble “sense of entitlement” that you wrote of so disapprovingly truly did rub off on you after all.

Best wishes for your future,

S.D.

Well, that's all she wrote... or all I wrote... whatever. Guess I can finish that hat and get some sleep now. Geez, it's after 3 in the morning! Laters!

- P.S. Not that he'll ever see it, but is it bad that I entitled the file "Letter to Dipshit" when I saved it onto my computer? ;)

Turning Japanese (I really think so...)

2008-12-07T18:11:00.013-05:00

I went to visit my local Japanese market Friday night to restock my kitchen with a few staples and treats. I thought it might be fun and maybe even educational to share them with you.

Starting on the left, the Pucca and the Pocky are two of my favorite treats. The Pocky is just what it claims to be, a "biscuit-stick" covered in a yummy, strawberry-flavored white chocolate-esque cream. It is available in many other tasty flavors like chocolate and green tea (One of my favorites, of course. :) ) The Pucca is a unique treat that is made of the same crisp type of stuff that the Pocky stick is made of, but the inside is filled with solid milk chocolate. Yum! And both are fun to eat because of the stick and fish shapes.

The iri goma is just toasted black sesame seeds. I always buy the toasted white ones because I don't particularly care for them untoasted, but I've never had the black ones toasted before, so I'm looking forward to it.

The sushihane is just perforated sheets of nori seaweed used in sushi-making. You cut the sheets into strips to wrap around the sushi or into cute little shapes to decorate other foods like onigiri (stuffed rice balls). I bought a more expensive brand than last time because I suspect that there really is a difference in quality between the different grades of nori, as there is with tea. Besides, it only cost an extra dollar. We'll see if it's worth it.

The tsubu-an is a sweet red bean paste that is a popular Japanese treat. Sometimes they make a sauce out of it and pour it on ice cream. I've had azuki ice cream before and it's surprisingly delicious. Imagine strawberry ice cream with the occasional bit of bean texture. Unusual, but still quite tasty. Anyway, I use the tsubu-an to pipe a nice, sweet surprise into the middle of my rice balls sometimes. It's a very tasty (and vegan!) way to get a complete protein from beans and rice.

Wasabi is, well, wasabi. My husband likes it more than I do. I prefer things that burn my mouth and he prefers things that burn his nose. I much prefer the sweet burn of pickled ginger.

The stuff in the can is actually Chinese in origin. The local Japanese market has begun stocking more Chinese items lately, perhaps in an attempt to broaden their customer base. As long as they don't start carrying less Japanese products, that's fine with me. In fact, it was convenient as I had been meaning to pick up a can of Mock Duck, which is exactly what is in the picture. It's a vegan form of wheat gluten "meat" with a little more flavor than regular Seitan. I've had it in the Thai restaurants before, stir-fried in an aromatic sauce of red curry or lemongrass and ginger, but I'd never purchased it myself because the only stuff that I could ever find in the Asian markets was sold in a can. I was kinda scared to try it, so I messaged a fellow Raveler that also packs vegetarian bento (Japanese-style lunch boxes) and she assured me that the stuff in the can is exactly the same as the stuff in the restaurants. Apparently it's ready-to-eat, all you have to do is rinse it off and saute it. Nice. I'm really looking forward to trying it!

Next is the sushi rice. I've tried several brands and the Kokuho Rose is unequivocally my favorite. It's sweet, sticky, and ever-so-slightly nutty. And it's reasonably priced! I highly recommend it. I always buy it five or ten pounds at a time.

The tofu is my favorite kind: In-House's Soft variety. It has the perfect consistency for silken tofu: soft, but just firm enough to "cut" and eat a small block with a pair of chopsticks. It doesn't have that irritating tendency to fall apart like many other soft or silken tofus. Also, it comes in a floating rectangular block submerged in water, not in a pressed cake so firmly stuck to the container that it tears apart as you try to remove it. The flavor is nice and fresh, too. I eat it plain topped with a little soy sauce and sometimes green onion slices or minced ginger.

Last but not least is the plastic container of pickled plums or "ume." Ume is difficult to describe. It isn't at all sweet like you might be tempted to think; instead it's salty and sour, rather like a cross between a green olive and a pickle. The flavor is quite strong, so they are usually pitted and torn into small pieces by hand and used sparingly. They're excellent for onigiri-making. I like to stir-fry vegetarian "chicken" strips in sesame oil, shred them and the ume into small pieces, toss them with fresh-cooked sushi rice and a bit of salt, and shape them into triangles. These two are leftover from yesterday. My husband and I are eating them now.

And that's it! I leave you with a picture of a bento lunch the likes of which I aspire to make once I have acquired more bento-making supplies. Oh, and another haiku!

Breadcrumbs

The goose approaches,
Unmarked by guile, pose, or pomp:
A fragment of Zen.

More Favorites

2008-12-04T02:34:00.010-05:00

I'm annoyed and bored out of my skull with seaming and end-weaving as I sit here trying to complete the Nob Hill jacket for my mother-in-law, so I'm going to perk myself up now by jotting down a few (more) of my favorite things.

Favorite pasta shape: Tortellini

Favorite pizza topping: Broccoli (no kidding)

Favorite bird: Plain white goose (so cute!)

Favorite composer: Nobuo Uematsu

Favorite artist: Andy Goldsworthy

Favorite juice: Tangerine

Favorite juice blend: Celery Pear

Favorite smell: Almond extract or Amaretto

Favorite color: Metallic silvery-blue (not specific enough?)

Favorite thing to blow up: Zombies

Favorite sea creature: Seahorse

Favorite cream pie: Butterscotch meringue

Favorite fruit pie: Cherry

Favorite cake: Carrot or Spice Cake

Favorite jam: Raspberry

Favorite meal of the day: A gut-busting breakfast

Favorite type of beer: Hefe-weizen (German wheat beer)

Okay, good enough! I'll finish the seaming tomorrow. Laters!

Asiana

2008-12-03T00:40:00.024-05:00

After about three months, I finally finished knitting the pair of cargos for my little man that I started during the market season. It took forever because I was debating (and failing at) the idea of embellishing the pocket with a stitched Domo-kun pattern on it. In case you're wondering, this is Domo-kun.

Freaky, I know. But isn't he adorable?! Domo-kun is a mascot for a Japanese TV station and he's kinda spread over here a bit due to his... unusual appearance. Anyway, I think the weird look he's got goin' on is too cool for school. I was very disappointed that I couldn't manage to get the pants pocket idea to come out right. Fortunately, all is mended since I found an adorable amigurumi crochet pattern for the cute little guy.

Cute as buttons! I can hardly wait. I miss amigurumi. Ever since I crocheted the blue and white Totoros for my son's first birthday I found that it is my all-time favorite use for crochet. It's nice to have an excuse to make another toy. I'd also like to make a gift for the cats (although it certainly won't be in time for Christmas) and this one is purrrfect. (I know, kill me.)

It's stuffed with catnip -- isn't that cool?! Now if only I could think of something to make for the ferrets...

Back to me and my love of Asian pastimes for a moment. I've recently discovered the bliss that is Yixing brewing. Yixing (pronounced ee-shing) is a type of teaware that is handcrafted from clay deposits found deep in the mountains of China. The teapots made using this ancient and time-consuming art are revered not only for their beauty, but also the clay's natural ability to retain heat and impart a subtle nuance of flavor to the tea. Oolongs are the most common type of tea to brew in an Yixing teapot, but black and green teas can also be used, depending on the specific type of clay that the pot is fired from. The one crucial element is that once you start brewing a certain type of tea with the Yixing teapot, that pot is forever dedicated to brewing that type of tea alone. This is because the clay absorbs the flavors of the tea and, in fact, after years of use it is theoretically possible to brew a perfectly good pot of tea using only hot water in your seasoned teapot. For this reason, it is also very important to wash the teaware with hot water only and never with soap, which can leave an off taste.

I've bored you with all that so that I can introduce you to my newly-christened tea set.

It's made of purple clay and is henceforth dedicated entirely to brewing organic Monkey Picked, my favorite lightly oxidized oolong. I've had the set for a while now, but I've only just now restocked my supply of the tea so I've been limited to staring longingly at it until recently. It was worth the wait. The minerals in the clay definitely impart a delightful earthy note to the tea, which is otherwise mild and a bit floral. I've had three pots of it today from the same leaves and I'm quite satisfied with it. Perhaps I'll brew a fourth before bed... hmmm... with a tea of this pedigree it is acceptable to re-steep the same leaves as many as five times. Maybe even more. So even though it's kinda a pricey tea, you can certainly get a lot of mileage out of it. Oh, and my tea set came wtih four of those cute little cups! :)

I feel inspired by the experience. Here's a haiku!

Yixing

The bounty of earth
Redolent of sweet jasmine
Beckons from the clay.

Goodnight, all!

Turkeys and Workies

2008-11-29T14:35:00.006-05:00

Wow, have I been busy. In the last 36 hours I have: devised and baked my own pumpkin pie recipe made from fresh local pumpkins and honey, made a batch of rosemary butter cookies, made a double batch of honey pecan triangles, hand delivered some of the aforementioned baked goods to a client for her Thanksgiving dinner, baked a few dozen homemade sweet yeast rolls, baked a Quorn "turkey-style roast" marinated in a rosemary-red wine sauce, had Thanksgiving with the in-laws, went grocery shopping at 2 am to kill time before the crazy Black Friday sales began, got some killer deals and finished all of my Christmas shopping, put up the Christmas tree and holiday decor, wrapped and beribboned all of the gifts (except for those that have yet to be handmade or delivered from online stores), and wrote out all of my Christmas cards. Thank goodness for Thanksgiving leftovers because if I had to cook dinner tonight I don't think I'd do too well. This morning I ate pecan triangles and pumpkin pie for breakfast and went back to bed. My husband laughed at me, but after all that I really needed it.

There's my little piggy! It's technically his first Thanksgiving dinner because last year he was too young to eat much of anything. This year, he ate a wide variety of things... before using his spoon to catapult choice tidbits over his shoulder and onto the carpet. Sigh...

Here's the ol' Christmas tree. It's got a lot more presents scattered around it now thanks to the recent flurry of shopping and wrapping, so it looks even "Christmas-ier." Our son is in love with the tree and we've had to begin the ardous task of training him not to pull the ornaments off of it and play with them. He's very strong-willed (like mommy) so it hasn't been easy.

Well, that's about it for now. Oh, except that my birthday the other day was wonderful. I got some killer beads and I've been making some really cool pairs of earrings. I also got to see the Twilight movie, which was pretty cool but nowhere near as good as the book. (Of course.) The lead vampire, Edward, was played by Robert Pattinson, a handsome young man who unfortunately came off a little more special needs than vampire in the film. Sorry, just saying. Also, the movie changed and omitted several events from the original story and that always gets on my nerves. And Dr. Carlisle should have been way more hunky and way less... undead Pee Wee Herman. But I digress...

A couple of my friends made me some beautiful birthday cards and cute little notebooks. Thanks guys, I really treasure them and I'll try not to use them up too fast! :) Also, I got to eat lunch at a cool tapas place called Relish. Because it was a Monday, I got a free order of crostini and hummus, a half price bottle of wine, AND a free dessert because of my birthday. Nice, huh? Let's see, let's see, anything else? Nah, not really. But it was a cool day.

Well, that's it for now, folks. I'm gonna go eat some leftover vegetarian T-day goods. Laters!

Still Can't Sleep!

2008-11-14T01:35:00.005-05:00

Tomorrow will be a busy day. I have no idea why I'm still awake... I'm tired enough to sleep, but I just feel like doing something. I'm hoping this post will satisfy my ill-timed motivation enough to allow me to go to bed soon.

I've been meaning to photograph some lovely Christmas gift tags that my friend FJ taught our knit group how to make on Monday. She even designed some of them herself!

Cute, huh? I'm going to use them for the handmade gifts that I'll be making for family members this year. Mostly they're knitted projects; my grandmother requested a necklace, though.

I think she'll like it. I showed her a couple of possible centerpieces from a few that I had picked out and she chose the tiger's eye, but she hasn't seen the final product yet. I really enjoyed making it. I love the way the silver bits contrast with the golden browns of the stones and glass.

I've got a huge stash of cool beads and findings coming my way in a couple of weeks when it's my birthday. I picked most of them out months ago and had the hubster order them for me online, so I've forgotten what most of them look like by now and I'm getting very eager to see them. Mostly it's stuff to make earrings with, but I'm becoming so enamored with making necklaces now that I'm gonna have to keep working on that now, too. Tch, just what I needed, another craft...

Alright, think I'll try and catch those elusive Z's now. Laters!

Can't Sleep

2008-11-13T01:29:00.004-05:00

It's 1:29 a.m. and I can't sleep for some reason. I just popped three allergy pills so I should be out like a light soon, but I'm bored right now. I'd knit, but I don't want to disturb my husband by turning on the light.

I'm anxiously awaiting the third book in the Twilight Saga. I have it on order from the library, but there is a waiting list because of the movie. :( Hopefully there isn't too much of the werewolf crap in there; that really annoyed me in the last one. So much so that I did something I have NEVER honestly done before... I skipped most of it. A good two hundred pages. Oh, I scanned through and read the interesting parts about Laurent and Victoria, etc., but the rest was utter torture and I literally couldn't force myself to endure it. Sorry, but I'm only interested in reading about Bella *and* Edward, not Bella and a buncha stupid high school kids and some kooky werewolf tribe. Besides, it was far too painful for me to withstand the agony of Bella's pervasive loneliness. It reminded me very poignantly of a time I got dumped and how utterly awful it felt. Well, except that my freaky ex-boyfriend was hardly a genteel vampire... and he definitely wasn't ditching me "for my own good." Oh, well. That's another story for another time. I don't have the stomach for it right now. Or the time. It's quite lengthy and lurid. Later, perhaps.

I just read the book "Zombie Haiku" aloud to my husband tonight. It was horiffically fun. It tells the story of a Romero-esque zombie apocolypse through the eyes of a dumbass-turned-zombie. It pays impressive tribute to many of the events occouring in the "Night of the Living Dead" series with a not-so-subtle nod to it's parodic successor, "Return of the Living Dead." There are many choice haikus in this delightful little book, not the least of which are:

I loved my momma.
I eat her with my mouth closed,
how she would want it.

And...

Blood is really warm.
It's like drinking hot chocolate
but with more screaming.

Fabulous. It made me feel inspired to write a little zombie haiku of my own, a tribute to the countless hours that I've spent blasting the crap out of the undead in Resident Evil. Here goes:

They stagger nearer.
I heft my rocket launcher,
take aim, and smile.

That was quite fun... but I still don't feel like sleeping. Huh. How about one for Batman?

My parents were killed
during my formative years.
Now I have issues.

LOLZ, that was great! This could be a new hobby. ;)

Weekend Update with Irascible Housewife

2008-11-09T11:22:00.004-05:00

Just a quick post to let everyone know that I'm doing great. My new meds are working out very well; I not only had the energy to clean those friggin' boxes out of my living room, reorganize my kitchen, and give my walk-in supply closet a complete makeover, but I was also able to read a book and listen to some soft music at the same time -- something that I have never been able to do before. I really think this is going to work out!

The book that I'm reading now is "Twilight" by Stephenie Meyer. A friend lent it to me a few weeks ago and I've only just gotten around to opening it the other day. (Sorry!) At first, I wasn't sure I was going to like it because even though I love me a good vampire story, the writing seemed a little... basic. I'll be the first to admit that I have strange taste in books. (Well, in everything, for that matter. How many moms routinely rock out to German Dance Metal?) The last thing I read was Kurt Vonnegut's Galapagos, I think. So I admit to being a little put off by the simple, unembellised writing style of Ms. Meyer. I usually prefer flowery prose, grandiose metaphors, and ostentatious verbiage, like F. Scott Fitzgerald or Phillip K. Dick. After reading the first nineteen pages, I put the book down and wondered if I had the willpower to make myself pick it back up again. A couple of days later, I mustered my flagging fortitude and gave it another shot. In just a few short pages, paydirt. The story began to pick up and stealthily sunk its barbs into me. Before long, the simplistic writing style seemed more like an effecient conveyance mechanism than a tiresome hindrance. For the past two nights, I've stayed up until nearly four in the morning reading it. I must admit that I'm thoroughly enjoying the shamelessly titillating high-school melodrama. It reminds me very much of the guilty pleasures of my newly-acquired addiction to Days of Our Lives.

So you see, what I'm lacking in irascibility lately, I'm more than making up for in housewifelyness. Cleaning, soap operas, and vampire romance novels... wow. Bon-bon, anyone?

President Elect Barack Obama and Other Stuff

2008-11-05T11:38:00.011-05:00

Wow, what an evening. I can't believe how much of a wide margin Obama won by last night. (Well, in terms of electoral votes, anyway.) How exciting. What a relief. Wow.

I've been spending most of the morning on the Knitters for Obama and Palin Must Be Stopped forums on Ravelry... reading posts and celebrating with other happy Dems. I also briefly visited some pro-McCain and Palin forums to see how they're handling the defeat. What a buzzkill. I can't believe how divisive and closed-minded they're being... then again, consider the source. Hopefully they're mostly speaking out of hurt and disappointment and we can all begin the ardous task of healing this nation as a truly UNITED States of America. I'll do as my father often suggests there and keep my expectations low but my hopes high.

Oh, and one last word on the now-defunct election:

KTHXBAI

In other news, yesterday was a very long day for other reasons. Here's an excerpt from an e-mail that I sent my dad last night because I'm too lazy to think of another way rewrite the same news.

"First off, I went to my shrink today for a routine therapy session and unexpectedly left with another malady to add to my crappy health checklist: ADD. As in attention deficit disorder. Great. I know it may seem hard to believe that I have it... I usually made excellent grades and didn't run around being hyperactive all the time (that I can remember, anyway), but apparently it affects females differently and it's easily hidden if the person suffering from it happens to be smart enough to slip through the cracks. The truth is, nearly everything I learned in school I learned from textbooks. At the beginning of class, the teacher would introduce the next topic and I would open right up to the book and read the information myself, pretty much ignoring whatever was going on in class most of the time. In mere moments of looking at a math problem or reading a history lesson, etc., I got the gist of it. The teachers always thought that they were reaching me but the truth is that I went to great lengths to hide the fact that I simply find it almost impossible to learn from anything but a book. Spoken words and physical demonstrations usually confuse and confound me. I'm perfectly capable of listening to a good speech or story, but beyond that I'm so easily distracted that it's taken years of effort and practice to not let it hamper my ability to have a normal conversation with people. I even hid it so well that I forgot about it myself... outwardly joking about how I'm not very smart to hide my lack of ability to follow anything for too long, inwardly wondering what the heck is wrong with me that I have so little control over my own ability to concentrate. I couldn't help but start crying in the doctor's office today because it was very shocking and sad to realize how long I've been hiding the truth from myself. It really affected my self esteem... I always felt dingy no matter how good my grades were. Oh, well. Now I get to try out some new medications to see if anything helps. It may also give me the energy that I've been sorely lacking lately, which would be most welcome.

To make matters worse, Grandma was here watching the baby while the hubby and I went out to vote this afternoon and then when we got back she got all pissy and up and walked out on us out of nowhere! Without a word! Just because I was annoyed that she added some seasoning to the green beans that I was cooking for dinner while we were out voting. Jeez, she's really getting hard to reach. You know, getting her to agree to even ask my mother for the creditor's contact info for you was like pulling teeth. I was so mad at her. She had the temerity to say "no" at first, giving no other reason than that she doubted you could afford to do anything about it, anyway. How rude! And none of her business!! I am so angry right now. If McSame and that godawful Palin woman win the election today, I think I'll go postal."

WTF?! The last thing I need right now is another ailment. I just found out last friggin' week that I'm inheriting my dad's hypoglycemia. Wonderful. You'd think I have hypochondria instead of hypoglycemia what with how quickly I'm acquiring new freaking disorders. Although technically I'm not so much acquiring them as uncovering them... like I said in the e-mail to my father, I've been compensating for my ADD with several layers of coping mechanisms for so long that I never even realized that I had it. My doctor says a lot of people do that. You either live in chaos with unmanaged ADD, or you learn to hide it until you hit a wall. I never knew... and if I hadn't happened to mention to Dr. D how I felt infinitely more comfortable volunteering for the election in a capacity that didn't require me trying to do any actual talking to people, it never would have come to light.

He was curious about that... it piqued his interest when I unwittingly revealed how I have difficulty in debating things with others because I am easily derailed and distracted and often forget what I was talking or even thinking about. He began asking me a few questions and before I knew it he was describing all sorts of things about my inner thought processes that I'd never really been able to explain to anyone before. It was amazing... and surprisingly painful. I felt like I'd betrayed myself somehow by unwittingly covering up my problem. Worst of all, all these feelings of self-contempt and disappointment in myself, old and new, washed up as I realized just how much I've been looking down on myself all these years for being so "not with it" that I can't even follow somebody trying to teach me how to do anything worth a damn. It pulled the rug out from under me. It broke my heart. My doctor noticed the supressed tears shining in my eyes as I nodded silently in understanding. He supportively leaned over and nudged the box of tissues on his coffee table closer to me.

I sat there and listened while he gave me an accurate description of the struggles I had gone through that felt more like a fortune telling... like he'd been there throughout my life, watching me suffer and struggle as secretly as I could. Apperently I'm a "classic case" of the person living in denial with ADD. The diagnosis fit so perfectly that I couldn't deny it, despite my shock and surprise. I've only just now had the good cry that I needed to really let it sink in. I just sat here sobbing and hugging myself and telling myself "It's not your fault, it's not your fault..." I've felt so dumb and so broken inside for so long. I thought it was just me. I got so used to being disappointed and frustrated with myself that I didn't even notice it anymore. It's so overwhelming to feel it sink in all at once now. I know that it will be liberating when I can work through my pain and, better yet, try some new meds to help fix my messed-up brain. I know that I'll be better off when all is said and done and that I'll be stronger for the experience. But it still hurts.

Allergies, Etc.

2008-10-23T10:21:00.004-04:00

My son has figured out that it feels quite nice to stand directly in front of the space heater. Fortunately, he has also learned to stop trying to touch it...

Later on today I'll be making some Rosemary Butter Cookie dough and popping it into the freezer for slicing and baking tomorrow. I have a customer that has ordered a dozen of them (so hopefully I'll have some left for the fam) and a bunch of cupcakes and pastries for a party she's throwing. I'll be very busy tomorrow with all the baking and decorating, so I'm trying to take it easy today. Maybe I'll give myself permission to skip vacuuming today...? Yeah, right. But maybe I won't be quite so anal about it this time...

Oh, well. My allergies were terrible last night for some reason and my sinuses are very swollen and tender today. I just want to curl up in bed and sleep all day. :(

Ah, well, let's switch gears and do a little meme. Thanks to Knitsensei for letting me use it!

YES/NO GAME RULES ARE AS FOLLOWS:
You can only say yes or no. You are NOT ALLOWED to explain ANYTHING unless someone messages you and asks!

Over 18? Yes

Danced in front of your mirror naked? Yes

Ever told a lie? Yes

Been arrested? No

Kissed a picture? Yes

Fallen asleep at work/school? No

Held an actual snake? Yes

Have YOU Ever run a red light? Yes

Ever drink and drive? Yes

Been suspended from school? No

Ever been fired from a job? Yes

Totaled a car/motorbike in an accident? Yes

Sang karaoke? No

Done something you told yourself you wouldn’t? Yes

Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? Yes

Ever laughed until you wet yourself? No

Caught a snowflake on your tongue? Yes

Kissed in the rain? Yes

Sang in the shower? Yes

Sat on a rooftop? Yes

Thought about your past with regret? Yes

Been pushed in the pool with your clothes on? No

Shaved your head? No

Blacked out from drinking? Yes

Had a gym membership? No

Been in a band? Yes

Shot a gun? No

Liked someone with nobody else knowing about it? No

Played strip poker? No

Been to a strip joint? Yes

Donated Blood? Yes

Liked someone you shouldn’t? Yes

Have a tattoo? Yes

Have or had any piercings besides ears? Yes

Made out with a complete stranger? Yes

Caught someone cheating on you? Yes

Skinny dipped? No

Regret any of your ex’s? Yes

Been to a rodeo? No

Been to a NASCAR race? No, No, and NO

Been in Love? Yes

Well, that's about it. Guess I'll retire to my bed for a minute for a bit of crocheting and sneezing... Ugh, can't wait to feel better.

Fallness

2008-10-18T10:51:00.003-04:00

Well, it's officially fall. I have just exchanged my fan for the space heater and I'm sitting here in my warmest pj's with a blanket draped over my shoulders. The window was open all night last night because it was a tad warm in here but BRRR... not so much now.

I love this, though... the feeling of huddling up in warm clothes and blankets with a hot cup of tea. It's so cozy.

I'm gonna steal a meme from knitsensei's latest blog entry. Ten bands that remind me of high school!!!

1.) The Ramones
2.) The Misfits
3.) The Queers
4.) Screeching Weasel
5.) Green Day
6.) Nirvana
7.) Operation Ivy
8.) Pearl Jam (Ugh, I hate Pearl Jam. Thank you, first boyfriend, for playing it constantly. :p)
9.) Beck
10.) Alice in Chains

Fun!!! I have to admit that the Misfits are still a guilty pleasure. Nothing like some good old "horror punk" to lighten up the day!

Oh, well, gotta run! I'm picking up some clients from the Farmer's market that want me to make cakes and pastries for them so I have some number crunching to do. Later!

Spoon!!!

2008-10-13T21:23:00.005-04:00

My son learned to use a spoon for the first time today! Watch!!

Isn't he a genius?!

Cupcakes, Etc.

2008-10-13T15:37:00.006-04:00

Well, the shower was yesterday and after all that bluster and worry the drive turned out to be no big deal. As I was heading down 75 South going farther than I've ever been on it before, I was surprised to notice that I was completely relaxed. ...Whaaat? Where was the tension, the stress, the worry? I actually yawned once. Then it occurred to me that I haven't driven anywhere new since I started taking my meds. Wow. They really are improving my life.

Thank you so much, everyone, for the support and encouragement! :)

Also, I was dusting last Friday and I set my swiffer thingy down for a moment so of course my son decided to pick it up. And what did he do with it, you ask? He started dusting!

Also note that I still haven't cleared all the market stuff outta my living room... oh, well... maybe next week. :p

Well, I have to hurry up and fix dinner so that I can make it to my knitting circle a bit earlier this evening... Yay!!! I leave you with a pic of the chocolate chip cupcakes that I made for the baby shower. I was going to pipe baby booties instead of flowers, but I ran out of powdered sugar so the icing was a bit soft to do the kind of detailed piping that the booties require. Oh, well... they were still cute enough. Laters!

Catching Up!

2008-10-08T15:35:00.021-04:00

Geez, I've got so much catching up to do here I hardly know where to start! Firstly, mad props to Knitsensei for noticing that I'm blogging again. I'll try and keep it interesting for you. ;)

Summer was full of hard work and good food... I got fresh vegetables from the market every week and ordered pizza from Jet's when I was too tired to cook. When I did find the energy to cook, I tried to keep it simple and eat a lot of the fresh veggies I had on hand.

This is one of my favorite Summer meals. To the left is a caprice salad made with market-fresh yellow and red tomatoes and fresh green and purple basil leaves. You can really taste the unique flavors of the different types of tomatoes and basils when they are fresh from your yard or local farm... this dish is hardly worth eating if it's made with yucky grocery-store tomatoes. To the right is a sliced loaf of the organic rosemary olive oil bread that I made to sell at the market. Toward the end of the season, I was baking 16 loaves of it every Friday night and selling them all on Saturday morning. It was a real hit.

I've also worked on bettering my onigiri-making skills, though I'm not sure how I found the time. This one is stuffed with sweet azuki bean paste. My son demolished it in seconds. He's getting pickier about his vegetables, but he loves rice and lightly salted tofu. He also loves apples... today I caught him munching on one that he snuck from the kitchen table when Mommy wasn't paying attention.

Look at that mischievous little piggy! He stole it! Awww, it's okay. Mommy can't be mad when you smile like that.

An old coworker is having a baby shower this Sunday and I'll be making decorated cupcakes for the event. The problem is that it's in Finneytown, where I've never been before. No big deal, right? WRONG! I have a serious phobia about driving to new places. I'm freaking out just thinking about it. This is so not good. I am literally terrified. Oh, well... there's nothing to be done about it.

Yeah, so I'm seeing a psychiatrist now. (For those of you weird mentally healthy people, that's the kind of nut doctor that prescribes drugs.) I really like him. He's only about ten years older than me but he's so laid back that he kinda reminds me of that droopy dog cartoon.

Yeah, exactly. Is there anything you couldn't tell a guy like that?

Well, more later. I've got a long day ahead of me tomorrow because we're picking up the in-laws from the airport after their two-week European vacation. I can't wait to hear all about it! oh, and don't worry... the husband's doing the driving. ;)

I'M BAAAAAAAAACK!!!

2008-10-06T16:42:00.003-04:00

Well, here I am... did you miss me?

Summertime was very, very busy. The farmer's market not only consumed my Fridays and Saturdays with baking and vending, but also my Tuesdays and Thursdays with diligent jam-making. Now that it's over, I've been busting my butt to catch up on the housework that I've been forced to let slide over the past couple of months. It's amazing how things can get out of control so quickly... my walk-in closet looks like a bomb went off in there and my living room is filled with supply boxes of teas, display shelving, and ready-to-fold pastry boxes. oh, well... I'll get caught up eventually.

Here's a pic of our tent.

I'm afraid that I'll have to close on that note because I have to hurry up and make dinner so I can make it to my craft group tonight. Later!

Yay, Tuesday!

2008-07-08T12:57:00.004-04:00

It's finally Tuesday, which is one of my favorite days of the week. I've rearranged my chores so that I can pretty much take it easy except for baby maintenance and keeping the place neat-ish. Today I'm celebrating with a nice, healthy lunch "a la Japonaise." It's a nice, diverse meal featuring lots of light, fresh ingredients.

In the center we have veggie "chicken", sesame, and ume stuffed onigiri (yum!) and the rest is exactly what it looks like. The blueberries are a very small sample of what we picked on Saturday. I've been eating them with every meal but dinner lately. The cucumber slices are fresh and lightly salted, and the carrots are so sweet on their own that I decided not to cut slits in them and give them a brief soak in soy sauce as I had been planning to. The olives are, well, olives. It's like a bento without the box. ;)

The tea is, appropriately enough, Japanese. It's a loose-leaf sencha from the Japanese market up the street. Sencha means "common" or "everyday" tea because it's what is drunk with most meals and offered to house guests in Japan. This one's alright, but I prefer the stronger, more grassy brew that I make from an organic variety I get online. To its credit, however, it's significantly cheaper and has a faint, pleasant note of fresh apricot. Did you know that the Japanese are the healthiest, longest-living people on earth even though they smoke way more than Americans? I'm sure that the high consumption of green tea can take a large portion of the credit.

Hmmm, what else is going on? Still looking forward to the market, but nothing much new to say about it. The labels are done now and I'm very pleased with them. Thanks, hubby!

Well, that's it for now. Later!

Blueberry Morning, Tea Evening

2008-07-05T23:11:00.019-04:00

A much-loved Durbin family tradition happened today... Blueberry Day! The bushes at the local blueberry farm (finally) ripened enough for the first picking of the season, so we dragged our sorry asses out of bed at 5:45 a.m. this morning. The picking officially starts at 8 a.m., but it has been known to start as much as a half hour sooner depending on the whims of the owners. Getting there on time is a must or all of the best berries will be long gone. The blueberry patch is huge -- think cornfield size -- and hundreds if not thousands of people show up for the best picking day of the year. I wish that I had a picture that gave a better concept of scale, but I was far too busy berry-picking and baby-tending to get many decent pictures. Just imagine hundreds of seven-foot bushes loaded with gorgeous, dew-covered blueberries stretching for almost as far as the eye can see.

These blueberries are the best I've ever had. I used to think that I didn't care for blueberries, then a coworker clued me in to the best-kept local secret of the blueberry patch and I've been a blueberry lover ever since. These berries are not only fresher and more flavorful, but many of them are quite large. The lucky picker will even stumble on a few the size of a quarter!

Sweet, delicious blueberries. This year we filled four buckets and picked twenty-three pounds. Six pounds are for friends, a few pounds are for jam, several more pounds have been washed, bagged and frozen for quick snacks or tasty additions to baked goods throughout the year, and the rest will be eaten fresh by yours truly, the hubster, the baby, and the ferrets. They last in the refrigerator for a remarkably long time because they are so fresh... I've had some last as long as a month and still taste great!

The getting up early, the hours of picking, and hours more spent sorting, washing, drying, and storing the berries does take its toll, however. I've been running on empty all day, but did that stop me from working my ass off to finish blending my last batch of tea? Hell no! So with no further ado, I now present to you the long-awaited Gaia's Garden white tea:

I won't give away the exact formula of my latest creation, but I will say that it involves blending white tea, three different kinds of flower petals, and hand-cut crystallized ginger pieces with the stimulating flavor of tangerines. I gave this tea its name as an tribute to Mother Nature for the all-natural botanicals used in it, some of them organic. I am very proud of myself for breaking into the world of tea-blending and will work hard to further perfect this blend and perhaps even come up with more tea blends in the future. If this one sells well enough at the farmer's market, I was thinking of trying an "Earl Grey with Lemon" tea sporting a few icy cornflowers, or perhaps a pink grapefruit tea. Ooh, and maybe a caramel tea! Okay, okay, settle down, girl. Sleep first, then dreams. Goodnight all!

Preparations and... Peppers

2008-07-01T15:23:00.010-04:00

So much has happened that I've been too busy to post for a while. It's mostly farmer's market stuff, like finalizing those damn labels (all of which are finished now but one -- yay!) and making some test batches of pastry items, soaps, and jams. Right now I'm waiting on thirty pounds of gooseberries that I ordered last week so that I can begin tinkering around to create a new jam recipe with them. Something with a hint of plain white tea for a boost of antioxidants and, well... shameless marketability. :-x Gooseberry jam is tasty and unique enough as it is, so I don't want to adulterate it with a bunch of competing flavors. I hope those berries come in soon... talk about last minute. Well, I had no idea that it could take up to four weeks for them to come in, but still... I really don't want to be stuck squeezing in jam-making duties during market season when I'll already be up to my eyeballs in pastry-crafting. Oh, well. We'll see.

Also, I've been holding true to my plan to learn more about hot peppers as posted in a previous entry. I've been sampling a few varieties and here they are:

Starting from the top left and going clockwise, we have: jalapeños, green chilis, an Anaheim pepper, and a Hungarian wax pepper. In the center are cute little deadly habaneros. So far, I've only tried the big ol' Anaheim, which I sauteed with onions and incorporated into scrambled eggs. I cut it into a large dice because they are a "milder" hot pepper, only about 500-2500 Scoville units of heat as opposed to the jalapeño's 2,500-8,000. In the end I was glad that I did because it allowed me to appreciate this pepper's unique flavor. It has the mild sweetness and flavor of a yellow bell pepper, which was very enjoyable. If you're looking to break into the world of hot peppers, the Anaheim makes a worthwhile starting point for both flavor and spiciness.

I tried some green serrano chilis (not pictured above) a couple of weeks ago and found their heat comparable to a jalapeno rather than much spicier as they are purported to be. (10-20,000 Scoville units.) Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that they were green serranos and not the riper red, yellow, or orange variety. I'll let you know if I can figure it out. I tried them sauteed with potatoes for a spicy side dish (which was very nice) and I also kneaded some of them into an Indian flatbread called naan, which was also quite tasty. (See below) I do recommend dicing them more finely than the Anaheim because their heat is much more prominent. The flavor is pleasing and stimulating as it reminds me very much of fresh cracked black peppercorns.

As for the rest, I'll have to let you know as I taste them. Because the habenero is supposed to be one of the hottest kids on the block (100-350,000 freakin' Scoville units), I plan on adding a single, petite pepper to the cream sauce in an upcoming pasta dish. I will let you know if the hubby and I survive. Jalapeños I have already tried, of course... who hasn't? But in the interest of re-evaluating it for the sake of comparison, I decided to buy some and give them a more educated sampling. I mean, how does one describe that flavor? I would just say "jalapeno", but that's no good. I need to taste more peppers and try them again so that my opinion of them is more refined and specific. So that I can be a true pepper snob. ;)

Well, that's it for now except to say that I sold my first few ounces of tea yesterday! Apparently my friends liked the samples that I gave them, because they're coming back for more... and now that I've got them addicted, it's all over! Mwa-ha-ha!!! Just kidding. But seriously, I am very pleased to be able to share something that means so much to me with people that I have come to care for. Tea is more than just a beverage... it's a lifestyle. The ritual of making it can be very relaxing and meditative, causing one to reflect and enjoy the moment. Especially if you crack out and buy several different styles of teapots and cups for different types of teas like me... then you begin to realize that tea is not just a beverage, but a doorway to a subculture that unites most nations and races and breaks down the bonds of country and location. It's... kinda magical that way. Ah, well, enough of my sentimental blathering. I leave you with a pic of a lovely, handmade card that one of my knitting friends made for me after I gave her some aforementioned tea samples.

The teabag in the bottom right corner is cut out from a coffee filter! Isn't that neat?! Laters!

Bedtime Bliss

2008-06-19T14:16:00.004-04:00

Right now I am sampling a cup of my Bedtime Bliss tisane and I just have to put a note in here saying how absolutely wonderful it is! Usually I have to be in a "chamomile mood" to drink an herbal infusion like this one, but I could see myself relaxing in bed at night with a cup of this one quite often. It's chamomile and vanilla with just a hint of lemongrass and it is AWESOME.

Oh, and I did a practice setup for my market booth in my living room this morning. So far, so good. The finished product will have a couple of small side tables for iced tea and such and be housed in a 10' tent festooned in colorful cloth flags. Oh, and the baskets and whatnots will be filled with brownies and cupcakes and macaroons, etc. I'm really looking forward to it!! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Now if i can just get those labels finished... my husband is working tirelessly to implement the design changes that I so crackheadedly decided on at the last minute. I think we're almost done now, though. I just have to blend two more teas and I'll pretty much be ready. I'm nervous about the white tea because I've never used essential oils as flavorings before, only in soaps or medicinals. Wish me luck!

Food, etc.

2008-06-18T13:59:00.015-04:00

I've been spending most of the day taking tea photos for my business labels and scrubbing the kitchen surfaces (because it's Wednesday and I'm OCD like that.) The baby is napping and I am taking a few precious moments to myself now to catch up on reading other people's blogs as well as adding a small post to my own... which is what I'm doing now, duh. ;)

Anyway, about last night's din-din's. The gomen turned out great. I hadn't eaten collard greens in a long time... ever since the last time my grandmother cooked them with greens from her garden, which was years ago. Why, you ask? Well, let's just say that there was a not-so-modest population of smallish caterpillars in the garden that year and my grandmother is notoriously bad at cleaning things. The result? A nice, steaming bowl of 70% greens, 30% bright green, curled up, inch long, rest-in-peace ex-caterpillars. Ugh. You know what the worst part was? It was a family dinner and I was the only one that noticed! Now my grandfather had the beginnings of Alzheimer's, so his not noticing was perfectly understandable. But my mother and whoever was her current boyfriend/husband at the time not noticing either? Ah, well, I guess I shouldn't expect drunks with mental problems to notice little details like that. Fortunately I was able to prevent anyone from tasting the buggy greens, but it kinda scarred me for a while... like over a decade. Fortunately I'm over it, but boy did I scrub those store-bought greens!

To make the gomen, collard greens are sauteed and steamed in a seasoned butter mixture called niter kebbeh. Using this recipe, I made my first batch of it yesterday afternoon. Oh, and for all you vegans out there, gomen can easily be made vegan if you use soy margarine instead of butter.

Be very careful to simmer the mixture gently or you will burn the butter and spices and have to throw it out. I have seen the results on other websites and it isn't pretty, so keep a good eye on it and give it a stir every once in a while. It should have a dirty bright yellow hue as it cooks.

Then you strain out the spices with a cheesecloth and voila, niter kebbeh!

This is the injera that you use to scoop up the food with as you eat it. No utensils for this meal! Fun!

And here's the finished gomen as well as some other leftover Ethiopian food that I had made and frozen a while ago.

I used this recipe for the gomen, but with a good amount of salt and way more niter kebbeh for flavor. Next time I think I'll just use twice as much spices in the niter kebbeh so that it doesn't have to be quite so calorific. It is delicious, though. I even ate a big ol' plate of greens for lunch today.

And that's it! Yum. If you don't want to make the injera, you could always serve the gomen as a side dish or even over rice. Injera's easy, but it does take a bit of practice. There's a lot of recipes out there for it, but my favorite is to just use one part soda water to one part sifted bread flour with a spoonful of baking powder and a pinch of salt. Whisk the mixture until it's well combined, then pour about a half cup at a time into an oiled 9" pan and tilt and swirl it around until it coats the bottom. Cook over medium-high until the top is dry. The bottom doesn't brown much because it's mostly just flour and water so it's kinda hard to burn. Just remember to oil the pan between injeras so it doesn't stick. Oh, and there's no need to flip it and cook the other side.

Okay, gotta run. I leave you with this hilarious Onion article. Laters!

Second Wind... I Hope

2008-06-17T13:43:00.013-04:00

Last week was nuts. My baby's first birthday and Father's Day fell on the same day this year, so there was twice the planning, work, and food prep than I was expecting. Oh, well. At least everything came out okay, but how I stayed sane I'll never know. (Hint: I may not have technically stayed sane...)

Amid all the flurry of preparations I have also had a plethora of shipments containing tea supplies and equipment that I will need for the upcoming farmer's market, which is now less than a month away. Squeeeeeeeee! I am so nervous...! And crunched! So much yet to do, so little time. We actually had the labels for my teas almost completely finalized before I decided that I wanted to start all over again. WTF is wrong with me? I really need to stop smoking crack. Anyway, I may actually have customers already as my dentist's wife went a little nutty when she found out that I am in the tea business. Apparently she is a big tea fan. The dentist's assistant, as well. As promised, I have just sent them an e-mail containing descriptions and prices for all of my teas. My first solicitation. Makes me feel all warm and capitalist inside. :)

Oh, before I forget, here are some pics of my son's first birthday cake. It was a totoro-themed birthday, so I made the cake to match with little fondant totoros all over it. The flavor was chocolate with a cookies-n-cream filling. Mmmm.

I don't usually use fondant, but the totoros did turn out kinda cute. :) I especially like the little white ones. I gave the top tier of the cake to my son and let him demolish it at will. Which led from this...

... to this. It took three of us to clean him and his chair. It was so cute, though. He really enjoyed himself. :)

Tonight for dinner I'm making something new. I made a batch of niter kebbeh this afternoon, a spiced butter used in Ethiopian dishes. It's made with ginger, garlic, onions, cardamom, cinnamon, and tumeric, if memory serves. I'm going to use it in making gomen, a tasty dish of spiced collard greens that I've only had in Ethiopian restaurants. I still have some frozen berbere red lentils and spicy gingered vegetables that I made last month in the freezer to go with it. (Whenever I make Ethiopian food, it ends up being enough to literally feed us about five times, so I freeze most of it before we get sick of eating it.) Now i only have to saute the greens with onions in the spiced butter and whip up a batch of injera (flatbread) to go with it and we'll have a huge feast. Nice.

I'll post pics of it next time. Now I'm gonna go cook it! Laters!!

T...i...r...e...d...

2008-05-27T09:00:00.011-04:00

I am so tired. My insomnia is back again and last night I didn't get to sleep until after two in the morning. Therefore, since my brain is not exactly in top condition I think I'll cheat a bit and do the picture's-worth-a-thousand-words thing today.

This is the My Neighbor Totoro set that I just finished crocheting for my son's first birthday, which is less than a month away now. It was my first amigurumi project and I found it extremely satisfying, so I plan to do more in the near future. One of the members of my knit/crochet group does amigurumi too, and she just found this awesome book of 'gurumi patterns for zombies, ninjas, and all things kickass. I must order myself a copy so I can show the hubster the cute little D&D style cleric pattern I saw in it.

This is a pic of the little white Totoro in progress. Or, if you prefer, "Timmy the tooth says use some mouthwash, you nasty skank!" LOL, I kill me.

This is the lunch that I am eating now. Leftover pasta primavera and a little pot of Sencha. And yes, those are chopsticks in my noodles. I know, I smoke crack. Just giving you a peek into my kooky little world.

Speaking of kooky, my son really loves to play with potatoes...

... and wooden spoons. I'm hoping he grows up to love food as much as mommy.

Speaking of food, I had some of the most delicious cookies the other day. They were thin cinnamon cookies sandwiched with apricot preserves and dipped in cinnamon icing. Yum. I would never have thought to put apricot and cinnamon together... what a surprise! It was amazingly yumtastic. I would show you pics, but my hubby and I scarfed them up too quickly. :(

This is a clip from my favorite voice actor, Crispin Freeman, quoting a line from the Vampiric anime Hellsing. Pardon me while I melt into a puddle on the floor while he does his sexy Alucard voice. With a voice like that, he doesn't need to be foxy.

Anyway, I'm gonna run for now. Piggy keeps trying to eat the mouse and it's kinda making it hard to write this. Oh, and FLAVOR FLAAAAAAAAAAV!!!!!! Tee-hee. ;)

Flavor FLAV!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-05-26T22:05:00.005-04:00

I had a great time out at the knitting/crochet group tonight. Cookies and brownies and tea, oh my. Oh, yes, and Flavor Flav.

I'm afraid that I'm going to have to cut this entry a tad short... it's after ten and my son needs to be put to bed. As it is, I barely had time to update an old entry from a few days ago. (May 19th, to be specific.)

Oh, and hi everyone that might actually read this! ;) Thanks so much for inviting me to the art show next week!

'Pologies and Peppers

2008-05-20T13:10:00.004-04:00

Last night turned out really well. I got a marvelously heartfelt apology from the knitter who kinda sorta not really stood me up a couple of weeks ago and now I feel just as good about her as I did before this stupid mess. I'm glad that we can put it all behind us.

In other news, I was honestly contemplating getting a bit of revenge on that most dishonest ex-friend of mine. I was toying with the notion of calling her supervisors and giving them her blog address so that they could read her own words about how she so callously lied her way out of work the other day. In the end, I decided that it wasn't a good idea, after all. Not because it was unpleasant or simply "not nice" to do, but because... well, let her learn her lessons in her own way. It's not up to me to play God and punish her for her wrongdoing. The universe will eventually show her the errors of her ways and I've got to make peace with that and worry more about my own spiritual well-being than someone else's. I decided that it's just not very Buddhist to go sticking my nose into someone else's affairs like that, even if she so wretchedly deserves it. See what a shitty Buddhist I am, though? I still can't let go of how much I love to hate her. Oh, well. One step at a time, I guess.

The veggie "chicken" dish turned out really well, and it's prompting me to learn more about different kinds of hot peppers as I cluelessly bought the wrong kind for the recipe. So far I've cooked with jalapenos, green chilis, and now I've used a poblano. I want to see what habaneros and cayenne peppers and such are like. I'll let you know how that turns out... unless I decide to to something totally 'tarded like rub my eyes after handling them again. To my credit, however, I had already washed my hands, but somehow the hot pepper oil must have clung to my skin... thought I was going to go blind. Ouch.

I leave you now with this beautiful picture of peppers so that I can do one of the things on my favorite things list... soak in a nice warm bath before the baby wakes up! Toodles!!

A Moment of Peace

2008-05-19T15:20:00.005-04:00

I'm taking advantage of the baby napping to note a few other things of interest today.

Firstly, I have discovered that vinegar is a miracle substance. I will no longer waste my money on costly cleaning products when vinegar water not only disinfects but makes my bathtub and sink shine like never before. Also, the pungent smell vanishes as it evaporates, which is more than I can say for the chemical-y scent of some products out there. So it's better for the environment, better for the wallet, and better for your health. Nothing but net. (Ooh, and it's great for the toilet, too!)

Let's see, what else? My son now has three and a half teeth... one of the top front teeth is coming in faster than the other. They're still harder to see than the bottom teeth because his upper lip hides them pretty well, but boy can we feel them when he nibbles on us. Thank God I couldn't breastfeed, after all.

My knitting/crochet group meets tonight. I haven't been there for the last couple of Mondays because one of the members kind of stood me up, sorta... she made plans with me the week before then didn't return my phone call when I contacted her to finalize the details of the get-together. How rude! Well, I'm over it but an irritating side effect remained that because I didn't get together with the person the week before, I had no idea where we were meeting last week because another member who usually tells me where we're meeting up thought (most understandably) that I already knew where to go since I was supposed to be in contact with the stander-upper. Did you follow all that? That meant two Mondays in a row of waiting hopefully by the phone like an expectant puppy with a leash in it's mouth, only to be left all dressed up with no place to go. What a drag. (Edit 5-26-08: I hope I didn't come off as jerky for saying all that! My feelings were really hurt at the time, but I'm so glad things are better now. :) )

In other news, Mother's Day went quite nicely, thanks to my mother-in-law. She had us over for a nice lunch and even gave me a couple of really sweet gifts, including a locket that she put my baby's name and picture in. I'm wearing it right now. We're kinda poor, so all we could afford to give her was a basket of flowers for her porch, a fruit basket, and a pair of cabled wrist warmers that I knitted. I meant to take a picture of them to upload to my Ravelry account so that I could post it, but I forgot. Maybe she will take a pic for me and e-mail it... eh, we'll see. Oh, and I made a lemon raspberry torte.

I wrote everything about the recipe, from the lemon cake to the raspberry white chocolate ganache filling and the lemon buttercream. It was one of the best tasting cakes I have ever made. I want to tweak the cake recipe a tad to improve the texture, but otherwise grand slam.

Anything else? Eh, just some minor drama with grandma trying to guilt me into talking to my mother again. No dice. Not for the sake and safety of my son. It is best if he never knows her. How sad. But at least she can never mistreat him or teach him to hate me... or both.

Alright, enough about that. I'm gonna go start on din-dins. I'm trying some Cajun chicken recipe tonight but using veggie chicken strips instead. Wish me luck!

Lies and the Lying Liar that Tells Them

2008-05-19T11:57:00.006-04:00

I have just finished re-reading the pile of sanctimonious piffle that is the most recent entry of my ex-friend's blog. In it, she recounts the events of a day in which she spun a dramatic yarn in order to get out of work. I wish that I could reach through the Internet and throttle her. It's not that she played hooky, or even that she told yet another lie. Big deal. No, no, no... it's that she not only worried everyone in her workplace by launching into a fantastical dramafest and pretending that her mother was having chest pains and needed to be taken to the hospital, but that she actually drove away cackling like a madwoman in a creepy fit of self-assured megalomania after she did it. OMG, she is a danger to herself and everyone around her. I wish I could tattoo her forehead in her sleep with the words "DO NOT TRUST THIS WOMAN." I mean, even if I was desperate enough to want to take the rest of the day off, even if it was the loveliest Spring day in all of creation, I'd still have the decency to feel like a dick for telling such a whopper of a lie to my coworkers. The fact that she gleefully drove off in peals of wicked, self-righteous laughter paints a better picture of her true self than all my humble words on the subject can offer.

More later. I need to take a shower after reading that utter bullshit.

Nothing to Report

2008-04-16T11:04:00.002-04:00

Yeah, it's like the title says... this is going to be the lamest blog ever. There's not much new going on but I feel compelled to update this blog just for the sake of it.

Okay, for starters the weekly yarn group that I joined is working out really well. In fact, I've been going every week except for last week on account of my stupid sinuses. It's always something with me and my respiratory system... asthma, allergies, sinus infections, blah, blah, blah. How annoying. I suppose I could have gone if I'd really wanted to, but I would have been really embarrassed what with the sniffing, sneezing, and general grossness of it all. That and this week my current yarn group was meeting up with an old group that I used to be a part of, but due to school and (again) illness, I had been forced to unceremoniously quit going. I have always had some anxiety about this because of the suddenness of the whole thing, so I certainly didn't want to open up that old can of worms. So I guess everything worked out for the best, after all.

I'm watching Army of Darkness right now. Bruce Campbell is so freakin' hot. I want to be him. Hmmm... I think the baby just left me a diaper gift. Excuse me for a moment.

Ah, the joys of motherhood! That reminds me, Piggy is getting his first teeth in now, which is very exciting. His two front bottom teeth, to be exact. We've been sharing a lot of our meals with him lately, giving him small pieces of pasta or veggies or rice or whatever. He's even had some veggie "chicken", which the hubster and I were very proud of. Oh, and yesterday I made small animal cracker style cookies and fed him his first pieces of cookie. It was very cute. He really liked them. I'm sure the pediatrician would be horrified that I'm already feeding him sugar, but I'm sure I had already had it way before I was his current age, which is almost ten months. We are a pretty healthy family, so I think sweets now and again are fine. It's when you start buying boxes of Twinkies and Frito Lay products that you're in for a major fatastrophe.

Anyway, what else? Oh, yeah... I'm working on getting a booth at the local farmer's market this summer. I'm planning on selling blended teas, fancy decorated pastries, and gourmet jams, all made by yours truly. Okay, so I don't blend the teas myself... I have a distributor for that, but I'm currently engaged in an exacting taste test of many of their products that's keeping both my teapot and my palate quite busy. I'm just glad that my sinuses are clearing up... ever try tasting something with a stuffy nose? Useless.

I'm very nervous/scared/excited about the idea of starting up my own business. It's intimidating when I think about the fact that in order to set up an account with this tea distributor I have to meet a $500 minimum for my first order. That's almost fifty pounds of tea, depending on if I buy it loose or in tins. What if I can't sell it off before the market closes for the summer? What if I can't even sell enough to recoup my losses? What if I get in trouble for not charging the proper sales tax or some dumb shit like that? What if, what if, what if. Oh, man... Well, I guess I'd rather go for it than spend the rest of my life regretting not having ever tried to go into business for myself. Besides, if it works out at all it would be nice to have enough money to pay the bills and start putting something back into savings again. Shit, last month we could barely pay the bills at all! And I could be throwing away hundreds of dollars on a display table, bulk teas, tins, paper cups, and whatever the hell else I'll need to get this ball rolling. Shit, shit, shit. I hate not knowing what to expect. I'm so freakin' anal and antsy I can't stand myself.

Well, I guess I had something to report, after all. Wish me luck with the business. I'm still in the R&D phase, if you will... putting the finishing touches on my pastry recipes, contemplating and cultivating business relations with various companies, and tasting tea until I'm actually getting sick of all the variety. How about a nice hot black tea for breakfast, an ostentatious Sencha with lunch, and a lovely lemon iced tea with dinner? I'm a creature of habit and I'm very attached to my routines in a most unZen manner... sometimes I think I'm one flick of a light switch from being full blown OCD.

And on that note, it's time to shower while the baby's still a-napping! Until next time!

No Man is An Island... I Guess

2008-03-11T00:19:00.005-04:00

Today has been a good day. A bit chore-heavy, but nice. It would have been better, of course, if my long-awaited Japanese tea had come in the mail today, but a very good day nonetheless.

Tonight I had a very good time attending a knit/crochet group that meets weekly at a local bookstore. It's so good to get out and meet new people... finally. I've been cooped up in this damn apartment six days a week for the past two months and it's getting a little old even for me. I've jokingly prided myself on being somewhat of a hermit, but it turns out even weirdo recluses like me get lonely if left on their own too long. There's been a hole building up somewhere inside me, something I couldn't quite put my finger on... I kept trying to fill it with more and more stuff, but it turns out that what I've really been missing is the company of other people. I think it took me about six weeks to figure that out. I really need to work on getting to know myself better.

In other news, I've been working on teaching myself how to cook Japanese food, with a particular emphasis on Bento fare. So far, my favorite foods are 1.) sweet azuki-stuffed onigiri with roasted sesame seeds pressed into the edges and 2. ) anything with tamago. The hubster prefers 1.) roasted rice balls basted in soy sauce and 2.) sweet simmered shiitake. The tamagoyaki is quite tricky to make, but I am determined to master it. If I can make French crepes and Ethiopian injera, goddammit I can make a Japanese omelet.

WITNESS THE POWER!!!

Okay, maybe not. But I'm learning... and I've got a ways to go.

I've come to enjoy the nutty flavor of short-grain sushi rice on its own merits. My usual preference is for a good quality jasmine rice, fragrant and light. Oh, and there's nothing like a good basmati for a rich, almost buttery aroma... sometimes I like to just make a plain bowl of rice and a nice cup of green tea and chow down. It just feels so wholesome and goodness-ish. Speaking of which...

Some of my first onigiri. I know they're not that pretty, but I'm proud of them anyway. I want to get better at doing it manually, but I'm also tempted to get a mold and see if that speeds things up at all... we'll see. Anyway, I filled some of them with azuki beans and some with ume (pickled plum). Man, is that ume sour! It makes tangy green olives seem like a walk in the park. It's good when it's used sparingly in a handful of rice, though... but the azuki is still my favorite! ;)

Well, it's almost 1:30 A.M. and I'd better try and force myself to sleep again. The baby will be waking up for his morning bottle all too soon. Goodnight, moon!

Too Busy, Too Happy

2008-02-08T12:39:00.000-05:00

This entry is mostly going to be a justification of why I've neglected my blog for the past month and a half. A series of excuses, maybe. Ah, screw it. The truth is, I've just been too damned happy to blog.

My husband is right, I suppose -- I only blog when I'm unhappy. When we first moved in, I was too busy unpacking, arranging, and organizing to even understand whether I was happy or not yet. Now we're good and settled with a mere eight or nine boxes yet to be unpacked in a lovely, immaculately kept apartment which I fastidiously maintain in a constant, psychotic fit of cleanliness. Everything but the aforementioned boxes is strategically placed and scrupulously maintained. It is 12:48 in the afternoon and I have already done my daily routine of showering, dressing, gussying myself up, taking care of the baby, watering the plants, eating breakfast and lunch and cleaning up the kitchen, making out my bi-weekly grocery list, and dusting the entire apartment. I feel great!

My carpet is vacuumed every Thursday, my kitchen and bathroom floors are swept and mopped every Wednesday, and my counters, sinks, tub and toilet are scrubbed and polished once a week apart from general maintenance cleaning when they are dirty. I love the feel of the clean, freshly dried kitchen tile beneath my bare feet; the way the freshly vacuumed carpet springs back lightly beneath my toes as I walk across it. I haven't felt this kind of pure joy and contentment in a long time. The beauty in all of this is that now that I've had a few weeks in which to practice my regular cleaning routine in my new enviornment, I've surprised myself by managing to hone my cleaning skills to an unanticipated level of speed and efficiency. When I had all of the dusting done before noon today for the first time EVER, I felt as if I'd just worked my way to level 99 in a Final Fantasy game. Wow and holy shit, I am a domestic GODDESS!!!

Alright, enough hubris on my part... though, truth be told, it is a hell of a rush to be so efficient at something for the first time in a while. Usually my work pace for cleaning is rather slow because I'm so goddamned anal. I rub and scrub and wipe and surface until the offending speck is gone... which takes a while. However, now that I am master of my own domain, and not living under the yoke of filth imposed upon us all by my grandmother's slipshod and lazy (and often altogether absent) cleaning ethic, it is far, far easier to maintain the tidiness that I work so hard to achieve. Also, I've been learning a lot from my past year and a half as a professional housewife. There are much better cleaning tools out there than mere spray cleaner and paper towels, to be sure. There are swiffers, magic sponges, solutions, creams, and powders that perform very well for specific tasks. I am also trying to use more all natural products whenever possible, both for the sake of my family's health and the environment, and look forward to trying out products like recycled dryer sheets and oxygen bleach. All in all, there are some pretty cool things out there once you start looking.

But I digress. The point is that although I am quite busy, I am also enjoying an all-new level of free time. (Unless you count baby maintenance -- which is constant, but fairly unobtrusive.) I am using most of this time to teach myself to knit and crochet myself more clothes. I am desperately low on clothes that I can fit into and I'm sick of counting on myself to lose the last of my pregnancy weight only to fail. I have been despairing for some time that I may never lose the weight, for no sooner do I lose four or five pounds than I proceed to gain it right back. This has kept me stuck in a never ending loop of denial in which I prevent myself from buying new clothes in my current size in order to help motivate me to lose enough weight to fit into my old clothes. Well, I haven't kept off a single pound for several months now and I've decided to do something about it. I'm designing and buying myself clothes that I can fit into now, but which won't look too bad or baggy should I eventually manage to keep the weight off. Things like drawstring skirts, which can fit a large range of sizes simply by tightening the string, or comfortable shirts that fit just well enough to not show my belly pooching out when I sit, which I will hopefully be able to wear (and look good in) if I can ever lose this weight. Ah, well, at least I'm enjoying myself. I've just completed a simple knitted sweater (my first completed knitting project -- yay!) and now I'm working on a knee-length drawstring crochet skirt that I am designing as I go. If the skirt goes well enough, I'd like to make myself a couple of floor-length crocheted or knitted wraparound and drawstring skirts. I want to look more like a pretty new mommy and I suspect that nice, flowy skirts and long hair are the ticket. I wonder which I'll finish first... my new line of skirts, or my long, red hair?

Tis the Season

2007-12-17T15:43:00.000-05:00

This will be short. I just want to make a note of all of the crazy things going on that have prevented me from blogging lately. There are a few, and they are all quite stressful.

Let me begin by first saying that everything with the baby is fine. In fact, I've been able to introduce quite a range of pureed fruits and veggies to him and he's eating more every day. I am quite pleased to announce that, so far, he enjoys his vegetables. He has a check-up with his pediatrician scheduled tomorrow, which is a guaranteed waste of a couple hours as every time I go means at least an hour spent in the goddamn waiting room, regardless of my appointment time. I plan on using our upcoming move to Mason (now pushed back to January 1st) as an excuse to find a new pediatrician. Seriously, I once spent nearly four hours in that office over a simple check-up. It's ridiculous.

Anyway, with the upcoming holidays, the past couple of weeks have been a blur of shopping, wrapping, and crocheting gifts like mad. We're also working out the final details for the move, but despite the fact that we will be relocating in just two weeks, I couldn't resist putting up our small, white Christmas tree. It just wouldn't have been right to let all of the stresses that we're going through overwhelm my chance to build good memories of my son's first Christmas. Even now, he is napping beside the tree and the soft, white light it sheds casts a warm glow across his angelic face. That, and he somehow has a small piece of glitter stuck to his eyelid from one of the ornaments. Priceless.

The impending move itself, despite being much anticipated, has also been a major stress point. The moving date has been pushed back about three times for various reasons at a time when every day in this house is becoming longer and more unpleasant. Fights are a daily occurrence here lately, and awkward silences punctuated with frustrated shouts have become the norm. I've been doing a lot of thinking about the way things used to be between me and grandma -- between us and grandma -- about how happy we all used to be and how well we all got along and enjoyed each other's company. Those memories are bittersweet proofs that things have changed somehow, slowly but inexorably, over the past year and a half. I can't deny that I can be a grump of a bitch to live with more often than I care to admit, and certainly Hubby can be irritatingly clueless and immature when he's in the mood, but at least we're sane. That bitch is driving us NUTS. Every day there is some new, excruciating challenge. My god, I've actually had to hide up here and send my husband downstairs as an emissary so that it doesn't come to blows. Isn't that terrible? I would never normally think of harming anyone. I'm a big time pacifist, the kind of person that doesn't believe in war; a vegetarian and avid recylcer who makes her own soap, for Christ's sake. I don't even like killing bugs (unless they're spiders, which are pure evil), so how could I hurt someone I've cared so much about? And yet, more times than I can remember lately, I've had to shakily bolt upstairs before I lose control. I guess everyone has their breaking point, but it still makes me feel somewhat ashamed of myself for becoming so angry, even if I was repeatedly and meticulously pushed to it. I've given up on the things that I obviously can't do anything about, such as her insane compunction to put her broken eggshells in the recycling bin or leave little drops of urine on the toilet seat after almost every visit to the bathroom. It's the ignorant, old school racist comments and the talking to herself at louder than conversational level even after you've requested about ten seconds of silence, please. It's the standing right where you need to be, right when you need to be there, with an almost supernatural sense of bad timing and a slow response time that makes steam come out of our ears. It's the way she drops the pacifier onto the dirty carpet and goes to put it back into my son's mouth like it's no big deal. It's the lying about what she's done and why she's done it, because in her mind, she can never be wrong about anything. I sighed aloud as I typed that last part. These next couple of weeks will be long, indeed.

Also, my estranged father has been trying to reconnect with me since the baby has been born, but I'm honestly not sure what to do about it. I've only seen him a handful of times since I was eight or nine and all he's ever wanted to do is be a pen pal, of sorts. Now that I have a child of my own, I understand the bond of love that ties (or should tie) parent and child together. He was never there for me when I needed him, and yet he has always insisted that I participate in this pointless letter-writing campaign and maintain a relationship with him at his convenience. How am I supposed to explain this to my son one day when he asks about his grandparents? I have already cut ties with my psychomom, and hubby's father has been dead for over ten years. Hubby's mother and her boyfriend are two wonderful and loving people, and I guess I only had one set of grandparents and that was alright for me, but... even though he hasn't done anything to earn a place in our lives, I feel so cold just shutting him out like that. I also feel used by him, like he sends me money twice a year and buys my silence on the matter with guilt. The last couple of cards he sent me still have the cash inside. I just can't deal with it now, no matter how much he claims to want it. I honestly don't know what I want right now, except that I don't want to deal with it at all. I don't like being guilted and used by someone who never loved me enough to visit more than once every few years or even pay child support. There, I said it. Do I feel better? Hell no, because I've written him I don't know how many letters explaining this to him and thrown them all out instead of mailing them. I just don't have the guts to tell him how much he failed me when he abandoned me to the whims of my psychotic mother. As much as his absence and lack of personal responsibility caused me to suffer, I still hate the thought of telling him how years of separation and neglect on his part have left me with little to no feelings for him. Maybe after the holidays I can write another letter... if I can just keep myself from throwing it away.

That's enough of my problems for now. I'm going to go and spend time with my son.

Zentastic

2007-12-03T11:45:00.000-05:00

Mmmm... here I sit, relaxed and content, sipping on a lovely, mild cup of Xue Ya as I enjoy the ambient melodies of FSOL. This is one of those moments where life is actually quite good. There is nothing like a good cup of tea, a scented candle, and relaxing music to make one feel truly zen. (A napping baby helps, too.)

A lot has happened since my last entry. For starters, everyone in the house has been afflicted with a vicious cold for the past week and we're still trying to get over it. Grandma coughs and sneezes on everything with disgusting aplomb, and hubby clears his sinuses every morning in the shower loudly enough to wake the neighbors. Oh well, I know that I am easily contributing my share to the cacophony of coughs, wheezes, and snorts myself, so I suppose I have little right to complain. Fortunately, the baby seems to be the least affected of all of us. Occasionally he will have a small fit of coughs that seem just a bit too concentrated to be random, but otherwise he is fine. I can only hope that he doesn't fall victim to the fevers and runny noses that we all suffered from a few days ago. Perhaps we will be lucky... I really don't want to find out what it's like to care for a sick baby while I'm trying to get over being sick myself.

In other news, the trip to D.C. went well enough except for the fact that I caught hubby's cold on the very day we left. This meant nine straight hours of gradually worsening symptoms in the car. I slowly went from having a slight runny nose to almost losing my voice. Despite this, we enjoyed a nice dinner at a Thai restaurant that night within walking distance of the hotel called "Thai-tanic." No shit. Ah well, the food and Thai tea were delicious. The dish that I ordered was served on a bed of wide, flat noodles that were about two inches across. It was very unique and special, not to mention that I suspect they make their own tofu. It's consistency was semi-silken and it fried up very nicely with a light, gentle crispness on the outside. Yum.

On the day we left, we visited "Teaism", an attractive, tea-themed restaurant styled with a definite Japanese influence. I sat next to a small, indoor pond filled with colorful Koi and enjoyed a hot cup of sencha with my veggie bento box. It was heavenly. I am now obsessesed with bento box culture. Who'd have thought that boxed lunch could be so interesting? I suppose we have the Buddhist aesthetic of beauty through simplicity to thank there. Anyway, the bento box was scrumptious but the tea was a bit disappointing. To begin with, the tap water in D.C. is terrible. It's by far the worst I've ever had... far worse even than Chicago's. One of the fundamentals of brewing a good cup of tea is to start with good water. Cincinnati, for all its ills, has surprisingly good tap water, but I'd never dream of making tea with it. A mild, sweet spring or distilled water with only the slightest mineral presence is ideal. I was very disappointed to find that Teaism had opted to go the cheap route and use D.C.'s crummy tap water. They could drastically improve the flavor of their teas for only a few cents a pot. It's a pity. Also, their selection of teas was unimpressive as well. I found it almost beyond belief that the restaurant has such a strong Japanese cultural theme in both food and ambiance, yet offers only one authentic Japanese tea. For shame, Teaism, for shame.

Teaism did, however, have an adorable tea shop next door where they sold all sorts of lovely teapots, cups, and accessories. I purchased a lovely woven bamboo tea cannister and drooled over the some beautiful Korean pieces and designs by local potters. Hubby barely managed to drag me out of there in time for the nine hour drive home. As it was, we didn't get home until after eleven and he had to work the next day. Oops.

My birthday went very well. On the morning before it, Black Friday, we stood in line for two hours at Circuit City to score a sweet deal on a forty-inch widescreen television. (Hubby suspects that this is where the infamous cold originated. It was snowing lightly and was very cold and windy outside. Not to mention that we started standing in line outside the building before 4 a.m.) Next, we waited in line at the local Gamestop for almost another hour to get ourselves a Wii, a light gun controller, and a copy of Resident Evil: Umbrella Chronicles. HELL YEAH, BITCH!!! That's right, we went ahead and got it early. And it's a good thing that we did... apparently it's getting quite hard to get a Wii these days, what with the holidays approaching. I must say, though, that I've never seen anything quite like it. In my time, I've managed two different video game stores and I've never seen a year-old console selling out like this, even around the holidays. For Christ's sake, people are charging about six hundred bucks for one on Amazon right now. It's unbelievable.

So far, all I've played is Resident Evil (surprise!), but I'm looking forward to the three other games that we got absolutely free with the purchase of an extra nunchuck, the light gun, and the Wii itself. Nintendo seems to be falling all over itself to give you tons of free games lately... not that I'm complaining, of course. Actually, the game that I'm most looking forward to playing next hasn't come out yet, but I'll be sure to snatch it up as soon as it does. Hell yeah, I'm talking about the Wii re-release of the arcade classics House of the Dead 2 & 3. Yes, I realize just how corny and campy these games are, but that doesn't stop them from being fun as hell. That's one of the cool things about the survival horror genre -- it can either choose to take itself seriously or throw decorum to the winds, celebrating the inherent silliness of a world filled with mindless zombies and their people-food. Besides, who doesn't love to blow undead heads off? Light gun games offer some of the best multiplayer entertainment around. Even my husband, eternally turned off by Resident Evil's tricky-to-master control scheme, joyfully blasts the crap out of the undead with me when he can sit back and enjoy a good old rail shooter.

Anyway, back to the birthday... I'll go on about how much I love Resident Evil and such some other time. Hubby got me a bomb collection of CDs and loose-leaf teas for my special day. I recieved tons of great music, including the FF7 four-disk soundtrack (finally), Nobuo Uematsu's The Black Mages Volumes 1 & 2, FSOL's ISDN and Accelerator (finally), and the Silent Hill 1 soundtrack (also finally). I've really been enjoying listening to them, especially on the loooooong car drives to and from D.C., where we were able to listen to all four disks of the FF7 set in a row. The teas are also great, being mostly of the white variety. I won't bore you with specs on all of the different tea varietals except to say that the Moonlight White is out of this world... as well it should be for about twenty bucks an ounce.

In closing, during the week of my birthday and the two Thanksgiving feasts that we attended, I gained back two of the three pounds that I had worked so hard to lose. The good news is that last week I lost them, which puts me right back to minus three pounds with fourteen to go. Unfortunately, our illness prevented us from exercising last week, so we need to get back into the habit. We're going to start our powerwalks again today, so hopefully I will have more weight loss to report next Monday. Wish me luck!

Oh, and I almost forgot... despite everything that's been going on during the past couple of weeks, we managed to find time to lock down our apartment arrangements. We should be moving in two weeks. W00t! Oh, and on top of everything else I crocheted this afghan in about a week as a Christmas gift for someone. Am I a domestic goddess, or what? ;)

Resident Evil: Umbrella Chronicles

2007-11-20T15:54:00.000-05:00

This won't be much of an entry. I just need a place to vent my giddy excitement and utter disappointment that Umbrella Chronicles is out and I won't be getting it until Christmas. Why not for my birthday, you ask? Simple: we don't have a Wii yet. I've spent the last decade of my life on the cutting edge of all my favorite game series, but since marrying and having a child I've been possessed of a certain calmness that overrides the need to spend hundreds (if not thousands) of dollars acquiring the latest gaming technology. At least, until another Resident Evil, Silent Hill, or (good) Final Fantasy game comes out. Then it's, "Where the hell is the nearest store? I must have this now!!!" Ah, well. I suppose I must work on acquiring some patience with my years. Speaking of which, I will be 28 on Saturday. Happy birthday to me.

In other news, hubby and I have been on a diet and it's working wonders. We each lost three pounds last week! Three down, fourteen to go. I know I can do it with continued diet and excercise, but with both Thanksgiving and my birthday this week, I'll be lucky just to maintain my weight. Ah, well. There's always next week. I've promised myself that I'll only splurge on my birthday, Thanksgiving, and Christmas this year. Otherwise, it's a strict regimen of five low-fat meals a day and 20 minute powerwalks three times a week. Yes, I said five meals a day. The catch is that the meals must all be as low fat as I can manage and fit into a small cereal bowl. The frequency of the meals keeps us from getting too hungry and helps our metabolisms to keep running at a constant hum.

I leave you now to make dinner. Tonight I am baking homemade calzones stuffed with fresh veggies. Yum.

Family Road Trip #1

2007-11-14T13:56:00.000-05:00

A lot has happened since my last post. In short, I spent last week with my husband and the piggy on a business trip to Minneapolis and Chicago. My poor husband had such a hard time on his last trip that he's decided not to fly unless he absolutely has to. Therefore, since he was going on an eleven-and-a-half hour car trip and it wouldn't cost any more money for me to sneak along, I decided on a whim to accompany him. I was nervous about driving around in a strange city (yeah, I'm a total puss), so I spent most of the week hiding out in the hotel watching daytime television. Not my proudest moments. I did, however, find that Jerry Springer has taken his program to the next level and I highly approve. If you're going to host a parade of mutants, douchebags, and hookers, you might as well go all out. 'Nuff said.

We spent the evenings driving around town and trying out various restaurants. One of the best places that we found was a Vietnamese restaurant called simply E.P. Vietnamese Restaurant. (If you think that's something, I once saw a Chinese restaurant called "Chinese Restaurant." At least these guys added E.P. to their name, which I can only assume stands for Eden Prairie, a small town adjacent to Minneapolis.) The food was as scrumptious as the name was concise: the Vietnamese Hot and Spicy Mock Duck was so strongly perfumed with ginger and lemongrass that it was almost as pleasant to sit there and smell it as it was to eat it. The hubby got a kind of sweet and sour mock duck dish that was also very tasty. We love mock duck. If you've never had it, it's some kind of wheat product used in Asian Cuisine that is far superior to tofu in texture and flavor. It has a sort of meaty, chewy mouthfeel rather like moist, tender chicken chunks, but absorbs the flavor of sauces and spices just like tofu. I highly recommend it to vegetarians and meat-eaters alike.

Another highlight of the trip was a visit to the Mall of America. I had been once before, but it was a few years ago and honestly I was way too stoned to remember much. (I think my then-boyfriend and I smoked a joint with some strangers in the parking garage, but again, too high to remember.) This time around I was excited to bring my hubby and baby along for the adventure. Although we only had a few hours to spend there before embarking on a six hour drive to Chicago for the next leg of our journey, I was determined to make the most of it. After picking up an eggnog latte from one of the 5,437 Starbucks in the mall, we took a leisurely stroll around the amusement park area, marveling at the roller coaster, the giant ferris wheel, and the arcade area. Piggy, chewing alternately on a stuffed octopus toy and his own feet, enjoyed the pretty lights and colors.

As we exited the amusement park area, we noticed a Nestle Toll House Cafe. We don't have one of these in any of our local malls, so I thought I'd check it out. It was nothing special, just the same old iced cookies and brownies that you usually see at a Blue Chip Cookies store, with one notable exception.

Good god. No wonder we Americans are so fat. Now, I'll admit to being a huge fan of iced cookies (especially the disgustingly decadent variety that has two M&M studded cookies sandwiched together with about an inch of icing) but you just have to draw the line somewhere. I mean, a brownie, chocolate icing, and a chocolate chip cookie? The sad thing is, that's probably what it takes to help sell their cookies... honestly, they didn't look all that appealing to me. They looked like the underbaked, bland cookies from my old grade school cafeteria. Taste the kwality.

Next I found a tea shop called Teavana. I'd checked out their website before and I wasn't very impressed with their line of loose leaf teas, but apparently I've been missing out on their teaware, which is really something. I let hubby and the baby explore the mall on their own for a while while I spent a good half hour or more discussing the virtues of Yixing and Tetsubin teapots with one of the employees. By the time the fam returned, I had picked out a lovely purple clay Yixing set that I asked the hubby to buy me for my birthday while I kept an eye on Mr. Baby and pretended not to notice. He willingly and sweetly obliged. Fortunately, my birthday is next week so I won't have long to wait.

After walking around a bit, we found the LEGO Imagination Center, a really cool shop with large models of LEGO dinosaurs, LEGO space satellites, and even a LEGO Earth and moon. Hubby fell in love with a lot of the spacey stuff, especially some Star Wars-ian model of an X-wing fighter or whatever it was. Honestly, for all of my comparisons of FF12 to Star Wars in an earlier entry, I must admit that I'm not a Star Wars fan. It would have been cool if they'd had a giant LEGO starship Enterprise, though.

The Chicago portion of our trip was only two days long, so I don't have much to report about it. The most notable thing was the terrible, terrible driving demonstrated by the natives. Jesus Christ, if you're reading this and you live in Chicago, give up you're driver's license because you certainly don't deserve it. I haven't seen so much cutting off, speeding around, and flagrant "fuck you" driving techniques since my last drive through Chicago. Everyone drives like they're sniffing coke at the wheel.

I will say that these folks know how to make a good pizza, though. Despite being an irredeemable food snob, I must admit that pizza is my favorite food. A good stuffed pizza is a work of art. This one was very nice, topped off with sliced fresh tomatoes and black olives and stuffed with lots of cheese and mixed veggies. The crust was exceptionally nice, too. It was actually rather flaky around the edges, kind of like a pie crust. It must have something to do with their stuffing technique that creates layers in the dough as the pieces are pressed together. I wonder if it's even intentional...? Regardless, it was a real treat.

Then we came home and it's been nothing but a shitstorm of chores ever since. Christ, it's taken me a freakin' week just to write this small post, what with all the grandma, laundry, and grandma. Anyways, all's well that ends well. Oh, and we're going to D.C. for a couple of days around the end of the month. Honestly, even a hotel room is better than this. I can't wait to get out of this house and get back into an apartment. Hopefully the one I want will be cleaned up and ready to move in to soon...

30 Days of Awesome

2007-10-30T14:40:00.000-04:00

Guess what I saw last weekend? 30 Days of Night is one of those rare film adaptations of a comic book that actually does justice to its origins. I was pleasantly surprised as I have seen some positively horrible renditions of comic books "reinterpreted" for film in my time. (Early Batman films, anyone? Christ, they suck. Hell, all of them suck donkeys except for the Holy Grail of Batman films, "Batman Begins." But I digress.)

If you like unorthodox, non-romantic, anti-Anne Rice vampire tales, then this is a movie for you. It was suspenseful and unapologetic, just like I like it. It reminded me very much of my favorite kind of zombie films: the few, terrified wannabe survivors crouch in hiding, trying desperately to avoid certain doom and inadvertently screwing each other over with their misguided attempts at escape. I find that the most alluring aspect of these types of tales is the human element. It becomes a real character study as the viewer tries to ascertain which of the lucky few have what it takes to survive. Will it be the badass hero type, or will he just screw up or sacrifice himself to save everyone else? Will it be the pathetic loser type, or will he remain true to his nature even in the face of indescribable horror? Will it be the ubiquitous cunning female survivor type, or will she, too, fail in her quest to endure and save those whom she fights to protect? I love the big fakeouts that these kinds of movies often feature, too; the moments when despite the fact that you're sure as shit a given character can't possibly bite it because they're too young and innocent, they're the main character's main squeeze, or even the main character himself, and you're forced to watch as they're ripped to shreds before your disbelieving eyes. What a thrill, those moments, to have your expectations utterly shat upon! Brilliant.

This is not to say that the movie was absolutely perfect, however. It did have a couple of token flaws, most notably that the lead vampire kind of looked like he had been a retired yuppie businessman before he was turned into one of the remorseless undead. I kept expecting him to pull out a cell phone and ask his stock broker how the NASDAQ was doing. As such, it greatly interfered with my ability to take his character seriously. Also, the hero of the story should have been a few years older to be more in keeping with the original storyline. Time itself was a problem as well. You would get to the next scene and all of the sudden the words "Day 17" or some such would appear at the bottom of the screen and it would be like, "WTF? I wanted to watch them bicker over survival tactics in the attic some more." Or, "Dammit, I was hoping to see them start to run out of food and be forced to figure out what to do next... and where have they been using the bathroom, anyway?"

Despite interfering somewhat with the sense of flow in the film, the pacing does help to keep the tension going. It's the suspense that really does it for me in the survival horror genre; the moment-to-moment, quake-in-your-boots fear that is the perfect breeding ground for fatal errors or just plain going postal. The gore is just a fun little release of tension from time to time, especially when it's particularly creative or unexpected. Gore for the sake of gore, however, is just plain boring. I can't stand those new "gross-out" horror films that attempt to shock through long, sickening scenes of human suffering. Not only is it cruel and disgusting, it's just a cheap tactic to mask a distinct lack of plot or creativity.

When I first read the 30 Days of Night comic, I was very impressed with the concept of the graphic novel, to say nothing of the fantastically visceral artwork that Ben Templesmith masterfully scrawls onto the page. These are not your typical languid, romantic hickey-givers out for a frolicy jaunt about town -- these are animalistic renders of flesh out to redefine the meaning of sadism. Their teeth alone are terror-inducing: rows of tightly-packed yellow slivers surrounded by disproportionately large, perpetually bloodstained mouths. It's interesting that one of their most telling traits as inhuman abominations is such a minor one: they never seemed to care that their faces were always stained and dripping with blood. Never did they make an effort to wipe their crimson chins or cheeks... instead they wore their filth proudly, as if to say, "Goddammit, I played with my food and I loved every minute of it." Remember how horrified you felt the last time someone publicly pointed out that you had some food stuck in your teeth? Remember anxiously wondering just how long it had been there and how many people had noticed the offending object before you were able to remove it? Not these guys. Where the vampire Lestat would have run off to the powder room in tears to fix his makeup and adjust his panties, these guys tore out another throat and said "Fuck it." They wore their bloodstains as casually as an old pair of jeans. Now that's balls.

All in all, a must-see and a must-read for survival horror fans everywhere. I'm looking forward to seeing it again already.

Final Fantasy XII Sucks

2007-10-22T13:06:00.000-04:00

No, the title isn't a desperate attempt to boost my readership. It's an honest opinion. Final Fantasy XII sucks. It sucks balls.

Over the past few months since its release, I have googled the phrase "Final Fantasy XII sucks" several times and have been repeatedly disappointed by the lack of meaningful results. It seems that I am by far outnumbered in my low opinion of the game. WHY?! Is the current market so inundated with graphics-addicted fanboys that no one but us oldschool gamers can see what a pathetic shadow of its predecessors this farce of a game is? Christ, you hardly have to even play the damn game due to the autopiloting Gambit system. On one gaming thread that I found, a player said that the Gambits make the gameplay feel like masturbation. I couldn't agree more. And as for those of you who would defend the unforgivable battle system by saying that the Gambits are optional, I remind you that even without them the battles consist merely of selecting the "Attack" option and then running around with your thumb up your ass as your character proceeds to repeat the same command over and over and over, leaving you only to interject with the occasional curative spell or what have you. Hardly my idea of innovative gameplay... or gameplay at all, for that matter.

Additionally, Final Fantasy XII suffers from a severe malady that has also plagued the last few entries in the series (most of which I have greatly enjoyed despite this defect). This frustrating weakness that has begun to creep into the series like an insidious poison since around the days of FF8 has no official name, so I shall heretofore refer to as the "Useless Awesome Item Trait". Perhaps you can already guess at my meaning. I refer to the maddening tendency of some of the most kickass items in the game, be they weapons, armor, spells, etc. to be completely unattainable until they are completely useless. FFX epitomized this trait with the impossible and often ridiculous requirements necessary to unlock the full potential of each character's Legendary Weapons.

To be fair to FFX, a few of the requirements were more unorthodox than impossible, such as Wakka's, which only required that you play blitzball for hours and hours to the exclusion of the actual game. At least that challenge is somewhat fun, however... what about Kimahri and the insane butterfly maze? Or Tidus and the frustrating chocobo races? And don't even get me started on Lulu's insane lightning dodger nightmare. I got to 182 out of 200 before I was struck down and nearly broke my PS2. And what is the faithful gamer's reward? What is their well-deserved prize for hours and hours of racing, dodging, fighting, etc.? A Legenday Weapon. Woo hoo. Sounds great... if it weren't completely useless by the time you get it because your character is already a god due to all that extra fighting. The truly suck thing is that you could have fashioned a better weapon yourself (and maybe even in less time) by searching out and stocking up on rare items and homebrewing your own megaweapons.

That having been said, I feel that FFX is one of the best entries in the series. The gameplay is fun and well balanced, the leveling system is unique, Spira is spectacular, Sin is awesome, and last but not least, the story is absolutely beautiful. (Honestly, there are a few parts of the game that still make me teary, even after having beaten the game several times.) And that brings me precisely to my point: FFXII not only absolutely guarantees that every cool item in the game is available only long after you’ve exhausted the need for it, but the plot is about as deep as a kiddie pool and seems to have been stolen from Star Wars. I mean, the first time that I saw the intro with all the fighter crafts buzzing around with talk about the "Resistance" and the "Empire", my husband and I looked at each other in shock and incredulity as if to say, "Oh my god, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Later we are introduced to Ashe, a self-righteous young princess-in-disguise fighting against an evil Empire to win back the freedom of her people. Sound familiar? I was almost surprised that at the end Vaan didn't turn out to be her long-lost twin brother.

Honestly, there are more things wrong with the plot than I care to remember... the biggest disappointment being the lack of a "reveal" twist that deepens the story. In FF7, when Cloud found out that he was an incomplete Sephiroth clone and that most of his life was a self-invented delusion, it was mind-blowing. In FFX, when Tidus discovers that Yuna's journey will end in her laying down her life to defeat Sin, only to avert this tragedy with the unexpected sacrifice of his own life, I was overcome. Hell, even in FF4 when Golbez turned out to be Cecil's brother, it was quite the surprise. There are as nearly as many examples of this phenomenon as there are Final Fantasy titles. Unfortunately, FFXII has none. I kept waiting for the big reveal, the moment of truth, so used to experiencing it that when the game ended I thought it was just another cutscene up until the credits rolled. I watched on in disbelief and horror, left cold and numb with the realization that perhaps the biggest plot twist in the game was that Ashe's uncle was a secret member of the resistance all along. I believe that I can best sum up my feelings about that revelation with a nice wet fart, thank you very much.

I will grant that the whole Basch/Gabranth drama was mildly interesting, although it can hardly be considered a plot twisting reveal that Basch had a twin brother because the evil twin plot device has been done to death. Besides, as it is strongly hinted from the very beginning of the story that Basch is in fact innocent of murdering the King, the whole thing comes off as tired and predictable. I actually expected something a little more novel, like one of the judges or perhaps even Vayne Solidor himself assassinated the king, cleverly clothed in a magical disguise resembling the trusted Captain Basch. How disappointing that they went for a plot line too obvious to expect. It does, however, add another interesting link to Star Wars: Gabranth, the last great servant of the empire, is a nice foil for Darth Vader in that bulky metal getup with the familiar, breathy acoustics. Interesting how in the end he betrays his lord and sacrifices himself to save the life of his rebel family member. Hmmm... now, why does that sound so familiar?

Psycho... What?

2007-10-19T00:27:00.000-04:00

My husband is sleeping now. He just got back from a short business trip to Seattle and swears that he will do everything in his power to avoid ever having to go on a business trip again. Poor thing. After 4 flights in 48 hours, he's more than a little wiped out. I'm exercising all of my restraint to keep myself from running over and hopping onto the bed with all the zeal of a kid on Christmas morning and shouting merrily, "Nap time is over! Wake up and be with me! I miss you!"

Alas, selfish as I can certainly be, I can't bring myself to disturb him right now. It's only been about forty minutes and I promised him a good two hours of sleep. Therefore I am on Baby Duty right now, which means keeping our beloved four month old from squealing aloud in that unbelievable high pitch that can only be executed by infants and opera singers. This means that about every twenty to forty seconds I have to stop typing and put his pacifier back in his mouth, make him smile with a few softly whispered words, or perhaps pick his little stuffed dinosaur off of the floor and return it to his eager but uncoordinated grasp. Right now he is trying to figure out how to fit both his pacifier and his toes in his mouth at the same time. Priceless.

I was somewhat disheartened yesterday to find that an old friend of ours was posting some very unflattering comments about me on her blog. Would someone mind leaving a comment explaining to me what exactly is a "psycho hose beast"? Although I suppose by her definition all I have to do is look into the mirror, since apparently I am one.

As much as I would like to glibly dismiss the whole thing, to write off her seething hatred of me as a sad and unfortunate byproduct of her bitter, unhappy life, I find that I cannot. I am, for lack of a better word, heartbroken. Heartbroken, aggrieved, distressed, disappointed, and just plain sad. I held my son close after I read her scathing blog entries, tears streaming hotly down my face as I choked back sobs and gasps of pain. I will not let him see me cry if I can help it, not even now in his infancy. I will not continue the cycle of insane misery that my own mother unleashed upon me all those helpless years ago. I can still hear her poorly stifled sobs as she cried loudly in the bathroom during my childhood, still see her face streaming with endless, endless tears that dried only when blasted with the hot breath of rage that was her only comfort, her climactic and terrible release as I grew older and more afraid in a house devoid of any father or siblings, alone and defenseless against the storm that raged on and on in relentless perpetuity. My son will never know this pain. I will do anything to protect him from it -- from her and from the awful taint of despair that she imbued me with as a child, that stabs like a long-buried splinter into my heart each time I am forced to recall it.

How could she? How is this possible? I have never been hurt like this by another woman until now. I had almost forgotten what it feels like to be despised. It is a reminder that I could have done without.

When my husband called late last night to let me know that he was getting ready to board the plane and to reassure me he was still safe and sound, he was greeted by a blubbering emotional wreck. I had just put the baby to bed and was giving myself permission to let it all out and have a good, unrestrained cry when the phone rang. I think I fell apart as soon as I heard his voice. I told him as much as I could during that brief collect call, even reading him a line or two of her scathing invective and detailing a couple of her more poignant insults. To his credit, he recovered fairly quickly from both his initial surprise at my discovery and the intensity of my unexpectedly anguished greeting. He managed to calm me with soothing reassurances that this kind of behavior is precisely the reason that the friendship came to a screeching halt in the first place. Only my husband can tell me something I already know to be true and make it feel like a mind-blowing revelation. I get too caught up in the moment sometimes and just can't see the forest for the trees. I have a very deep need to look into myself constantly, to perpetually examine, re-examine, evaluate, and re-evaluate my motives and actions and make sure that I'm doing the right thing for the right reason and not just lying to myself or failing to see the obvious. Consequently, it's extremely helpful to have a springboard to bounce this stuff off of to keep myself sane. Otherwise, I might end up becoming a psycho hose beast. Whatever that means.

Prelude to an Eventual Meltdown

2007-10-18T01:35:00.000-04:00

"You must be unhappy," he said in a matter-of-fact tone that gave me pause. I caught my breath, stunned into thoughtful silence. Before I could come up with a response, he continued. "I mean, you only blog when you're unhappy about something."

"Well..." I began, certain of my desire to express myself, yet unsure which train of thought to pursue. He had provoked many with his simple statement. "I... I guess I am," I replied lamely, surprised by the admission. How well my husband knows me. How many times has he shown me insights into my own character that my personal blind spot renders me unable to detect? We've been married three years this September and he still manages to surprise me.

What he meant when he ventured to say that I was unhappy was entirely with regards to my state of mind due to our present living situation. For the past year and a half, we have been renting the upstairs rooms of my grandmother's house in a symbiotic attempt to both help her around the house since my grandfather's death and to save ourselves some money toward purchasing a house of our own. It was one of those things that seemed like a good idea at the time; we wanted an opportunity to practice home ownership and be close to family as we began to start our own, and she needed help doing things like cleaning the cat litter and mowing the lawn. It seemed perfect at the time. Nowadays, it just makes me think of the saying about how the best laid plans are often laid waste.

I was still working at the time that we moved in. I had a job making and decorating cakes for what is arguably the most prestigious bakery in the city. It was pleasant at first, much like many doomed relationships start out. In those days, we would often sit downstairs with Grandma for hours after dinner and watch a few programs with her on her cable TV. (We eschew television in favor of video games, so we hadn't seen cable television in years.) Sure, we would all quibble over whether to tune into Food Network, the Sci Fi channel, or whatever station was currently running a Law and Order SVU or CI marathon at the time, but it was all good natured and there was never a serious dispute about anything.

It's been a while now since I remember having a dispute around here that I could honestly refer to as "good natured." (Except, of course with my husband. We get along as well as ever -- unless he's short on sleep, that is... but that's another story.)

Anyway, to condense more than a year of growing unrest into a few short paragraphs is a herculean task indeed, so I shall try and do one better by oversimplifying things into these three key points:

1.) I swear my grandmother is losing her mind. Example: I have seen her banging on the cordless phone several times because she can't get it to change the channels on her TV. This is by no means the most severe example, it is merely the first to come to mind. You may feel inclined to remind me that many old folks suffer similar technological impairments, but also consider that I have pointed out to her several times that she is doing this and she persists in doing it anyway. If this is still not enough to convince you, be reassured that more examples will follow at another time.
2.) My mother (who lives on the very next street) is a conniving uberbitch that constantly undermines my relationship with my grandmother (among other things) and won't be happy until she has successfully brought about my utter ruin. Sound melodramatic? You have no idea.
3.) Due to a lifetime of constantly having my parade rained upon, I have grown up determined not take shit from anyone unless I am being well paid to do so. Well... most of the time, anyway.

I am keenly aware that the above submissions may indeed bring up more questions than they answer, but worry not, fair ladies and gents: for that is the express purposes of this blog. It is my mission not only to share with you the ups and downs of the housewifely existence as experienced by yours truly, but also to bitch quite roundly about them all. Therefore, I can assure you that with repeated readings you will be much more familiar with the frustrating and often ridiculous details of my goings on than you will ever care to be. So continue on, brave reader, if you dare. I've got bitchings enough for a lifetime.