I see that I have posted NOTHING since February! Could it be that I am SO LAZY that I can't even take a moment to keep you posted on my uneventful life?
Too much has happened to get completely caught up but I will tell you of the major occurrence that happened to my good friends Matt and Sheila which affected us all. While carrying a bucket of water (I call it "slops" because it is the water from when they wash dishes and includes vegetable trimmings) down the stairs to their greenhouse, Sheila proceeded to lose her footing and land on the brick floor breaking her ulna (a bone in the arm below the elbow) and patella (kneecap).
NEWS FLASH: It is raining for the first time in weeks!
Back to my story...
Matthew was on the roof at the time of the accident so Sheila lay there thinking "oh, I'm sure I'm just badly bruised and there is no need to bother Matt." and "Matt is gonna be so mad at me!" After about 10 long excruciating minutes she let out a little scream of "Help" and Matt came to her rescue and eased her back into the house. Sheila had surgery that evening (six hours of surgery) and was home four days later with a wheelchair and her left arm and leg in casts with her leg sticking straight out in front of her. The poor woman could not access the bathroom and had to have one of those porta-potty contraptions and wash her hair with water in two bowls on a card table. Oh, and did I happen to mention that it happened only days before her birthday? Talk about depressing!
This happened at the end of April and after a few weeks of physical therapy she is now walking without the aid of a cane, albeit rather slower than normal. I guess when you're a healthy woman in your early sixties you heal pretty fast. She was such a little trooper! I would have been a bitchy, demanding pain in the ass and would still be hobbling around with some kind of support. I suppose Matthew handled it as best as he could but he will never be a good nurse. I think Sheila was right, the whole incident pissed him off big time. If I ever break a bone I'll be stuck in a nursing home until I heal so I'd best be extra careful.
Lesson learned? Stand up straight, walk with purpose and... watch your step.
July 7, 2011
February 12, 2011
Same Story, Different Year
Two weeks ago we had a nasty winter storm that included freezing rain, sleet and snow. Then we had sub-zero temperatures and some of my bathroom pipes had frozen. Having frozen pipes is no fun and the threat of bursting pipes had me in a panic. I had done everything right, or so I thought, by keeping the water flowing in the faucet and keeping the room warm.
Last year my pipes burst in the bathroom and it took a week to get them repaired. The incident happened when there was snow on the ground and finding the meter outside to shut off the water was a major pain. This year the snow was much deeper and trying to find that meter would put me over the edge. As you will see I didn't need to find the meter thanks to my ex.
Much to my chagrin both pipes that had frozen burst within a week of each other. Fortunately, I was able to staunch the gushing water not once, but twice (thanks to something my ex actually did right in plumbing this house by having several shut off valves which I stupidly just discovered). It seems that the toilet pipe (cold water) was the first to burst last week and then the hot water line let loose on my 53rd birthday. Even though I would be spending my birthday alone I had planned a wonderful meal and a night of movie viewing. After the second pipe let loose I proceeded to have a birthday pity party all by myself replete with bouts of sobbing and staring into space. I was actually too depressed to eat (mark that down as a red letter day) and slept on the couch just waiting for another river to start flowing in my piece-of-shit bathroom.
As Scarlett O'Hara was fond of saying "after all, tomorrow is another day", Saturday February 12th has brought warming, melting sunshine and the ability for me to get in my car and drive to a dinner party in my old neighborhood. I will have to trudge through the snow to acquaint myself with my car again but that is a small price to pay to be with friends who will lift my spirits.
I am of the belief that nothing else will happen to my plumbing and that my good friends Matt and Sheila will love having me come to their house to bathe until the pipes are repaired. I know that imposing on their lives will have the effect of getting the repairs done sooner rather than later. I sincerely hope that I will not be writing a similar post again next year.
February 2, 2011
Vegetable Stew
Yummy, yum yum. I just love a good stew and this one hit the spot on a cold Sunday evening.
My mother made the best stew in the world (yes, it was better than your mom's) but it was beef stew and since becoming a vegetarian I have searched in vain for a recipe that filled the bill.
Then, one Sunday, it all came together for me. I had all of the right ingredients and all the right mojo to make a stew that is worthy and as close to mom's as I'll ever get.
What you'll need:
One small onion, diced
Two cloves garlic, minced
One cup of sliced carrots
One cup of sliced celery
Three bay leaves
One russet potato, peeled and diced
A half pound of green beans, cut into bite sized pieces
A half head of cauliflower, cut into bite sized pieces
One 32 ounce carton low sodium vegetable broth
One can of cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
One teaspoon dried basil
A half teaspoon of salt, or to taste
Nine grinds of black pepper
What you'll need to do:
Sauté the onion and garlic in a small amount of oil until translucent. Add the carrots and celery and cook for about five minutes. Add the potato, green beans, cauliflower, bay leaves and broth and cook until done to your liking. You might need to add a cup of water if it is too thick. Add the cannellini beans and basil and cook until heated. Season with the salt and the pepper.
Spoon it into a bowl and eat.
Enjoy!
October 17, 2010
What's Cookin'?
I have decided to make black bean soup for dinner and instead of just opening cans I'm gonna cook the beans. I soaked one cup of beans overnight then added salt to the soaking water after reading a blog by a vegan cookbook author this morning.
I then drained the rinse water and added 1/4 whole onion, 2 cloves of garlic, 3 bay leaves and salt. When the beans are tender, which should take a couple of hours, I will discard the onion, garlic and bay leaves, and there should be about three cups of black beans.
In large soup pot I will sauté the rest of the chopped onion, two chopped cloves of garlic and two cups of sliced carrots. When those are done, I will add the beans, 1/2 cup of orange juice, one can of Rotel tomatoes with green chiles and enough bean broth to make it a soup. Salt, pepper and cumin will spice up the dish. I would add a chipotle pepper in adobo sauce if I had it.
What to go with the meal? How about some real southern cornbread and a cabbage slaw with red bell pepper with Caesar dressing? Yup, that will definitely fit the bill. A cheap red wine and Ben & Jerry's Karamel Sutra ice cream for dessert sounds good to me.
Let me tell you, the aroma in my house is glorious right now. I love cooking!
Update:
Because the beans were so dang good and all of the ingredients so far were organic, I decided to ditch the Rotel tomatoes. After I discarded the bay leaves, I left the onion because it had basically disintegrated and the one garlic clove I could find I smashed and added to the sauté mix. I used the juice of 1/2 organic orange (devoured the other half) and then added Muir Glen Fire Roasted Tomatoes. I don't like my soup to be too "soupy" and this turned out to be "da bomb". Too bad you can't have any.
I then drained the rinse water and added 1/4 whole onion, 2 cloves of garlic, 3 bay leaves and salt. When the beans are tender, which should take a couple of hours, I will discard the onion, garlic and bay leaves, and there should be about three cups of black beans.
In large soup pot I will sauté the rest of the chopped onion, two chopped cloves of garlic and two cups of sliced carrots. When those are done, I will add the beans, 1/2 cup of orange juice, one can of Rotel tomatoes with green chiles and enough bean broth to make it a soup. Salt, pepper and cumin will spice up the dish. I would add a chipotle pepper in adobo sauce if I had it.
What to go with the meal? How about some real southern cornbread and a cabbage slaw with red bell pepper with Caesar dressing? Yup, that will definitely fit the bill. A cheap red wine and Ben & Jerry's Karamel Sutra ice cream for dessert sounds good to me.
Let me tell you, the aroma in my house is glorious right now. I love cooking!
Update:
Because the beans were so dang good and all of the ingredients so far were organic, I decided to ditch the Rotel tomatoes. After I discarded the bay leaves, I left the onion because it had basically disintegrated and the one garlic clove I could find I smashed and added to the sauté mix. I used the juice of 1/2 organic orange (devoured the other half) and then added Muir Glen Fire Roasted Tomatoes. I don't like my soup to be too "soupy" and this turned out to be "da bomb". Too bad you can't have any.
October 16, 2010
The Doctor Is In
I really dislike going to the doctor. All of my life I have gotten nervous the minute I step into the building and only feel relief when I am outside the door. It is completely irrational but it's the same feeling that I got when I would get in trouble at school or at home. I just know the doctor is going to yell at me for being fat or for not living right. Rest assured, I rarely got in trouble at school or home and I am perfect.
I had to go to the doctor this week to get my medications refilled. I arrived a bit early hoping that I could get in right away but I ended up sitting in the waiting room for forty-five minutes. The waiting room has two tv screens, one playing some news program and the other giving health advice and advertising medications. The news was all about some missing girl and her mother who beat her and some celebrity scandal. There was an older man across the room who kept falling asleep and snoring himself back awake which kept me entertained, but it couldn't keep me from getting anxious and thinking that this was a complete waste of time.
The nurse finally called my name, directed me to the scale (which always lies about my weight), and then took me to the exam room. She chatted me up a bit (at least she was in a good mood for once), and then took my blood pressure. She was quite pleased with my numbers this time so that helped relieve some of my anxiety. She then said the dreaded words, "the doctor will be with you shortly".
So.....I waited and I waited. I've known my doctor for ages. I've even cooked a dinner for him and his wife that my boss decided he wanted to throw. Hmmm, did I say that right? Do you actually throw a dinner? Anyway, the doctor was doing an exam in the room next to mine and I could hear him saying things like, "I am going to order a mammogram for you" and "no, we need to do that now since you're here". To me that translated as, "to hell with my next patient, she can just wait some more". I was in that exam room for thirty minutes, chomping at the bit.
Mister Doctor finally strode into the room, read my file on the computer screen, asked me how I was doing, and then chastised me for not getting that mammogram that he ordered last year. I explained to him that the cost of the test is what is keeping me from getting it, and we discussed my insurance for a bit. He then ordered another mammogram for this year. Obama care needs to kick in quicker for the under-insured like me, then tests like mammograms would be more accessible. He then asked if I have any vaginal bleeding or bloody stool. Why would he ask that? He must have been jonesing for a problem to explore.
I then had to go to the phlebotomist (medical vampire) and get my blood taken for my thyroid test and metabolic panel. This is the first time a vampire has hurt me. Note to vampires, don't move the needle up and down once it's in the vein. I then made a hasty exit and await my test results. I assume that they are fine because the "doctor man" never called me about them.
I have survived another medical visit nightmare and I don't plan on going there again in 2010. The doctor may be in, but I'm outta here.
I had to go to the doctor this week to get my medications refilled. I arrived a bit early hoping that I could get in right away but I ended up sitting in the waiting room for forty-five minutes. The waiting room has two tv screens, one playing some news program and the other giving health advice and advertising medications. The news was all about some missing girl and her mother who beat her and some celebrity scandal. There was an older man across the room who kept falling asleep and snoring himself back awake which kept me entertained, but it couldn't keep me from getting anxious and thinking that this was a complete waste of time.
The nurse finally called my name, directed me to the scale (which always lies about my weight), and then took me to the exam room. She chatted me up a bit (at least she was in a good mood for once), and then took my blood pressure. She was quite pleased with my numbers this time so that helped relieve some of my anxiety. She then said the dreaded words, "the doctor will be with you shortly".
So.....I waited and I waited. I've known my doctor for ages. I've even cooked a dinner for him and his wife that my boss decided he wanted to throw. Hmmm, did I say that right? Do you actually throw a dinner? Anyway, the doctor was doing an exam in the room next to mine and I could hear him saying things like, "I am going to order a mammogram for you" and "no, we need to do that now since you're here". To me that translated as, "to hell with my next patient, she can just wait some more". I was in that exam room for thirty minutes, chomping at the bit.
Mister Doctor finally strode into the room, read my file on the computer screen, asked me how I was doing, and then chastised me for not getting that mammogram that he ordered last year. I explained to him that the cost of the test is what is keeping me from getting it, and we discussed my insurance for a bit. He then ordered another mammogram for this year. Obama care needs to kick in quicker for the under-insured like me, then tests like mammograms would be more accessible. He then asked if I have any vaginal bleeding or bloody stool. Why would he ask that? He must have been jonesing for a problem to explore.
I then had to go to the phlebotomist (medical vampire) and get my blood taken for my thyroid test and metabolic panel. This is the first time a vampire has hurt me. Note to vampires, don't move the needle up and down once it's in the vein. I then made a hasty exit and await my test results. I assume that they are fine because the "doctor man" never called me about them.
I have survived another medical visit nightmare and I don't plan on going there again in 2010. The doctor may be in, but I'm outta here.
September 12, 2010
The Labor Party
Humbling, fun, grueling, sleep deprived and pooped all describe my Labor Day weekend of 2010. My friend Marcy got “a hair up her ass” and decided to throw a big bash which was not to be missed. After a sleepless Thursday night (due to a violent rain storm which knocked out the electricity and made me unable to sleep for fear of oversleeping), I took to the road after work to begin the four hour drive to Oklahoma City.
The grueling part of the trip began on the Cherokee Turnpike when the rattling noise that had been going on for about three weeks underneath my Toyota Matrix got a bit louder and then ended with a loud bang in the direction of the rear of the car. Not being one to be smart with my automobiles, I decided to not make my usual stop at the midway point of the turnpike and drove straight through to “the city”. Just so you’ll know, there is absolutely nothing wrong with the engine so there was no real danger to the car and I made it safely to my destination.
The sleep deprived part of the story continued through Saturday but there was so much to do that I didn’t let it get me down. For some reason I didn’t sleep well on Friday night but I’m sure that most of you don’t sleep that well the first night in a strange bed. Saturday morning came way too soon and with it brought much to do to prepare for the Big Bash. Marcy had invited over 150 people and there was lots to do around her wonderful home...blowing leaves, scooping poop, setting up food and drink tables and tidying up. What is it about Marcy's parties that makes me drive for hours and then work my ass off? You'd have to attend one to know how worth it it is. Of course, Marcy's ass no longer exists from all the work she did.
The fun part was the party. Marcy’s back yard was where most of the action took place and as you can see in the picture it is one great back yard. What a wonderful venue for a party! Marcy is the hostess of the decade and the guests were a mix of her good friends and interesting acquaintances. I had many conversations with some of her new friends and with people I’ve known for a long time. I think this was one of the best parties she has ever had. According to her count, at least 90 people were in attendance which I think is probably a record. Oh, and did I mention the food? My contribution was cheese and fruit combinations...sweet ripe cantaloupe paired with Spanish Manchego, organic bing cherries paired with Cambozola and organic black grapes paired with Havarti. There was such a variety of foods, everything from hummus to pasta salad. Everything I tried was good and there were lots of things to try. The shindig began at 7:30 and continued until after one o’clock in the morning. I lasted much longer than I thought and left at around midnight.
Sunday was a day of rest. It should have been spent cleaning up but...
The humbling began on Monday afternoon when I went to Kim and Ron’s wonderful home. Ron graciously volunteered to take a look at my clanging car problem and he found that a bracket had come loose from a protective panel. He worked his magic and after about 30 minutes had fixed the annoyance. He then noticed that one of my tires had only 8 pounds of pressure and, after filling it with air, said that there must be a slow leak. The words he used were “that was a blow-out waiting to happen”. Gads. How very humbled I felt and thankful that he was concerned for my welfare. The drive back home was completely uneventful. Thanks Ron!
I arrived home pooped but happy. I love visiting Marcy and seeing all of my OKC friends but home is where my heart is.
March 11, 2010
Cell Hell
I have done what I said I would NEVER do. I have ditched my land line and am now in cell hell. Don't get me wrong, I really like the cell phone thing and being able to talk to people no matter where I am but I don't like the fact that when I am speaking the other person can't "cut in" with a quick word without interrupting the sound. Do you know what I mean? I hope so because I don't really know how to explain it.
Now for some of my pet peeves about cell phone usage and user behavior.
At work I sit at a desk behind a tall counter and people will often lean over the counter and talk on their cell phone directly in my face while they are waiting to finish a transaction or make an appointment, etc. My reaction is to get up and walk away until they finish their conversation and give them dirty looks from time to time. One time the client really didn't get the hint and kept on talking and I was able to get a cup of coffee, tidy up the pharmacy, chat with my co-worker and answer a few phone calls. I think she must have talked on her phone for about 15 minutes. One of these days I am going to start screaming at them.
Again at work, some people will answer their phones while in the exam room. My reaction is to make eye contact with the doctor (if that doesn't work I open the door and motion with my hand) to tell them to exit the room until the phone conversation is over. I suggest that the doctor wait a few minutes after the client is finished being rude before re-entering the exam room. One of these days I will add a "rude cell phone" usage fee to their bill. Actually, I think I'll start that policy today.
At a coffee shop a hot shot Walmart Executive type walked up to the counter to order, all the while chatting on his cell phone. He held the phone away from his ear, placed the order, then immediately resumed his conversation. The coffee shop staff must be used to this kind of behavior because it didn't seem to phase them. I would last one minute as an employee at this place because I would ignore the customer until he/she got off the damned phone. Had I been on the other end of the phone I would have hung up on him.
Driving down the road a woman in the next lane was texting and driving as if she had never driven a car before. At the stop light I gave her "the look" and shook my head. Too bad the police are never around to nail those bastards.
At the grocery store a woman was talking on her phone so loudly that the whole store could probably hear her conversation. Another time a woman was yakking at check out and not once did she stop the chatter. Had I been the check out person I would have double rung many items just to piss her off.
No one is so important that they can't either not answer the call or end a call whenever they are interacting with a real live person. I find it rude for people to answer calls when they are somewhere where, if cell phones had never been invented, they would normally not be available. People need to slow down and remember to be polite. Really, you and whatever the caller has to say just aren't that important.
Now for some of my pet peeves about cell phone usage and user behavior.
At work I sit at a desk behind a tall counter and people will often lean over the counter and talk on their cell phone directly in my face while they are waiting to finish a transaction or make an appointment, etc. My reaction is to get up and walk away until they finish their conversation and give them dirty looks from time to time. One time the client really didn't get the hint and kept on talking and I was able to get a cup of coffee, tidy up the pharmacy, chat with my co-worker and answer a few phone calls. I think she must have talked on her phone for about 15 minutes. One of these days I am going to start screaming at them.
Again at work, some people will answer their phones while in the exam room. My reaction is to make eye contact with the doctor (if that doesn't work I open the door and motion with my hand) to tell them to exit the room until the phone conversation is over. I suggest that the doctor wait a few minutes after the client is finished being rude before re-entering the exam room. One of these days I will add a "rude cell phone" usage fee to their bill. Actually, I think I'll start that policy today.
At a coffee shop a hot shot Walmart Executive type walked up to the counter to order, all the while chatting on his cell phone. He held the phone away from his ear, placed the order, then immediately resumed his conversation. The coffee shop staff must be used to this kind of behavior because it didn't seem to phase them. I would last one minute as an employee at this place because I would ignore the customer until he/she got off the damned phone. Had I been on the other end of the phone I would have hung up on him.
Driving down the road a woman in the next lane was texting and driving as if she had never driven a car before. At the stop light I gave her "the look" and shook my head. Too bad the police are never around to nail those bastards.
At the grocery store a woman was talking on her phone so loudly that the whole store could probably hear her conversation. Another time a woman was yakking at check out and not once did she stop the chatter. Had I been the check out person I would have double rung many items just to piss her off.
No one is so important that they can't either not answer the call or end a call whenever they are interacting with a real live person. I find it rude for people to answer calls when they are somewhere where, if cell phones had never been invented, they would normally not be available. People need to slow down and remember to be polite. Really, you and whatever the caller has to say just aren't that important.
February 14, 2010
Ode to Saint Valentine
Heed my words Saint Valentine
You'll never be a friend of mine
Disappointing is your day
Inspiring these words I say
A poet I will never be
A card of love I will not see
Now, if I could I'd find a dandy
And say "Give me chocolate candy"
I have never liked the "holiday" known as Valentine's Day. It often seems to be a day filled with disappointment and unfulfilled expectations. I was sitting in the cafe at Barnes and Nobel yesterday afternoon looking at fashion magazines (don't say it, don't even think it) when two young women sat down behind me and started talking. Well, I just couldn't resist eavesdropping and here is some of what I heard. Apparently, one of the women was questioning her relationship with some guy and seemed to be on the verge of breaking up with him. The last statement I heard was "He even asked me what I wanted for Valentine's Day and I said he should be able to think of something. And he'd better get the thing I want or that is the end".
To me, that is the most ludicrous statement that ever comes out of someone's mouth. How in the world is that guy supposed to know what she wants? He can't read her mind and she won't tell what she expects from him so he is thwarted before he even starts.
I used to work with a woman who got angry with her husband every year because he never got her what she wanted for Valentine's Day. I asked her if she told him what she wanted and she said no and that he should KNOW what she wants. One year they were in a shopping mall and she pointed to some teddy bear that she wanted and hinted that it would make a perfect VD present but on that Valentine's Day she was pissed again because he didn't get the EXACT bear she had pointed to. Unbelievable.
I do have one positive VD story and it was in 1985 when I was in Oklahoma taking care of my mother as she was dying of cancer. I was a long way from my home in Arizona and my ex (this is before we were married and subsequently divorced) made some hearts cut out of wood and painted them different colors and then painted "I love you" on them. They were all different sizes and I loved them. What a very sweet and appropriate gift for Valentine's Day, something homemade and from the heart. My mother died a few months later and I went back to Arizona and married my ex the next year. It was a wonderful time and I cherish the good memories.
Valentine's Day should be a day of celebrating love, not being disappointed by what didn't happen or by what material gift you didn't get. Next year, skip the crappy store bought card and make something meaningful. Write a poem to your loved one. Bake a cake or some other confection. And whatever you do, say "I love you".
You'll never be a friend of mine
Disappointing is your day
Inspiring these words I say
A poet I will never be
A card of love I will not see
Now, if I could I'd find a dandy
And say "Give me chocolate candy"
I have never liked the "holiday" known as Valentine's Day. It often seems to be a day filled with disappointment and unfulfilled expectations. I was sitting in the cafe at Barnes and Nobel yesterday afternoon looking at fashion magazines (don't say it, don't even think it) when two young women sat down behind me and started talking. Well, I just couldn't resist eavesdropping and here is some of what I heard. Apparently, one of the women was questioning her relationship with some guy and seemed to be on the verge of breaking up with him. The last statement I heard was "He even asked me what I wanted for Valentine's Day and I said he should be able to think of something. And he'd better get the thing I want or that is the end".
To me, that is the most ludicrous statement that ever comes out of someone's mouth. How in the world is that guy supposed to know what she wants? He can't read her mind and she won't tell what she expects from him so he is thwarted before he even starts.
I used to work with a woman who got angry with her husband every year because he never got her what she wanted for Valentine's Day. I asked her if she told him what she wanted and she said no and that he should KNOW what she wants. One year they were in a shopping mall and she pointed to some teddy bear that she wanted and hinted that it would make a perfect VD present but on that Valentine's Day she was pissed again because he didn't get the EXACT bear she had pointed to. Unbelievable.
I do have one positive VD story and it was in 1985 when I was in Oklahoma taking care of my mother as she was dying of cancer. I was a long way from my home in Arizona and my ex (this is before we were married and subsequently divorced) made some hearts cut out of wood and painted them different colors and then painted "I love you" on them. They were all different sizes and I loved them. What a very sweet and appropriate gift for Valentine's Day, something homemade and from the heart. My mother died a few months later and I went back to Arizona and married my ex the next year. It was a wonderful time and I cherish the good memories.
Valentine's Day should be a day of celebrating love, not being disappointed by what didn't happen or by what material gift you didn't get. Next year, skip the crappy store bought card and make something meaningful. Write a poem to your loved one. Bake a cake or some other confection. And whatever you do, say "I love you".
February 4, 2010
Weather Or Not
Oh my aching head. Why oh why did I have that last shot of bourbon? It must be the weather.
It is now February and the weather has been rotten. Last week we had five inches of snow and the darned stuff just won't melt, making a muddy slushy mess of my driveway.
I used to love snow. Now all I think about when it snows is "how in the heck am I going to get to work?" or "how long is this crap gonna last?". The hills in my area make driving treacherous, especially for someone like me who has landed in the ditch way too many times. I am the driver people need to watch out for in bad weather.
When I was younger and lived in Oklahoma I drove in the snow and ice all of the time and only bumped someone once at a stop light. Of course, there are no real hills in Oklahoma City so the driving was relatively easy. Not so in Northwest Arkansas. I know the Ozark Mountains aren't anything compared to say the Rockies, but they are steep enough to cause trouble when the ice and snow come pouring out of the sky.
Today it is raining and will continue to do so into the night which will probably then freeze and make my morning commute a joy.
Is it spring yet?
It is now February and the weather has been rotten. Last week we had five inches of snow and the darned stuff just won't melt, making a muddy slushy mess of my driveway.
I used to love snow. Now all I think about when it snows is "how in the heck am I going to get to work?" or "how long is this crap gonna last?". The hills in my area make driving treacherous, especially for someone like me who has landed in the ditch way too many times. I am the driver people need to watch out for in bad weather.
When I was younger and lived in Oklahoma I drove in the snow and ice all of the time and only bumped someone once at a stop light. Of course, there are no real hills in Oklahoma City so the driving was relatively easy. Not so in Northwest Arkansas. I know the Ozark Mountains aren't anything compared to say the Rockies, but they are steep enough to cause trouble when the ice and snow come pouring out of the sky.
Today it is raining and will continue to do so into the night which will probably then freeze and make my morning commute a joy.
Is it spring yet?
November 1, 2009
Waiting for Good, Oh! (or how to make me a happy diner)
A recent business blog on the New York Times Online has prompted this latest blog entry.
Recently, two friends and I went to a supposed upscale Nuevo Latino restaurant and the experience was abominable. The waiter kept using phrases that should never be used and ended the meal on a sour note. Here then is my list of waitstaff no-no's.
1. When I walk in as a single diner please do not say "just one?", go ahead and ask how many are in my party. And do not seat me at the crappiest table near the kitchen or clean-up corner or bathroom.
2. As a single diner I should be treated just the same as a table of four. I will be much less trouble to you than that four-top and I will tip better on average.
3. When I say "thank you" the correct response is "you're welcome", not "no problem". If it is a problem then you need to get into another line of work.
4. Please do not hand me my plate. Your job is to place the plate in front of me. If I wanted to help myself I'd be dining at a buffet.
5. I know that time means money for you but don't rush me. If I haven't finished my salad, please do not bring my entree. Most tables aren't big enough to hold salad plates, bread plates and the plate for the entree.
6. Do not call me honey or sugar or sweetie or dearie. Ma'am is okay (although it makes me feel older than I am) but don't over-use the word.
7. Please don't refer to a table of women as ladies more than once. You could say "would anyone like anything else?" or "how is everything this evening?" without interjecting the word "ladies".
8. Just because you are waiting on a table of women does not mean you can ignore us. Most of my female friends are fairly large tippers and treating us as second class citizens doesn't get you anywhere. If you are too busy to give my table the attention it deserves then management needs to hire more waiters.
9. Please make sure my beverage is replenished unless I say no. I don't care if it is water or coffee or wine, I want something to drink with my meal and I shouldn't have to wait until it is empty to get more.
10. Never ask if I need change when paying my bill. Never assume that whatever money is left over from paying my bill is for your tip. I will leave an appropriate tip for the service you have given me. If you're good my tip will be good, if you're lousy you'll get what you get.
I hope this sparks some comments from my readers. Happy Dining!
Recently, two friends and I went to a supposed upscale Nuevo Latino restaurant and the experience was abominable. The waiter kept using phrases that should never be used and ended the meal on a sour note. Here then is my list of waitstaff no-no's.
1. When I walk in as a single diner please do not say "just one?", go ahead and ask how many are in my party. And do not seat me at the crappiest table near the kitchen or clean-up corner or bathroom.
2. As a single diner I should be treated just the same as a table of four. I will be much less trouble to you than that four-top and I will tip better on average.
3. When I say "thank you" the correct response is "you're welcome", not "no problem". If it is a problem then you need to get into another line of work.
4. Please do not hand me my plate. Your job is to place the plate in front of me. If I wanted to help myself I'd be dining at a buffet.
5. I know that time means money for you but don't rush me. If I haven't finished my salad, please do not bring my entree. Most tables aren't big enough to hold salad plates, bread plates and the plate for the entree.
6. Do not call me honey or sugar or sweetie or dearie. Ma'am is okay (although it makes me feel older than I am) but don't over-use the word.
7. Please don't refer to a table of women as ladies more than once. You could say "would anyone like anything else?" or "how is everything this evening?" without interjecting the word "ladies".
8. Just because you are waiting on a table of women does not mean you can ignore us. Most of my female friends are fairly large tippers and treating us as second class citizens doesn't get you anywhere. If you are too busy to give my table the attention it deserves then management needs to hire more waiters.
9. Please make sure my beverage is replenished unless I say no. I don't care if it is water or coffee or wine, I want something to drink with my meal and I shouldn't have to wait until it is empty to get more.
10. Never ask if I need change when paying my bill. Never assume that whatever money is left over from paying my bill is for your tip. I will leave an appropriate tip for the service you have given me. If you're good my tip will be good, if you're lousy you'll get what you get.
I hope this sparks some comments from my readers. Happy Dining!
October 23, 2009
Books Without Borders
I love books. I love the feel, the smell and the heft of books. I love reading books so much that I now want a Kindle from Amazon.com or a Nook from Barnes and Noble. I know, that seems contrary to my love of books but my love of reading takes precedence over my tactile enjoyment of a book.
I also love technology and when I first saw the Kindle a few years ago I craved to own one. Unfortunately, the price tag was a bit steep and I could not justify the purchase. Now the price has come down by $50 and it is in its second generation. Just this week Barnes and Noble announced the arrival of the Nook so now I am in a quandry as to which eBook reader I should covet.
For those of you who don't know what a Kindle or a Nook is, they are electronic reading devices that allow you to download books from their websites for usually no more than ten bucks a book. Both of these devices use wireless technology so you can download a book from anywhere, unlike the Sony Digital Reader which requires you to be connected to a computer to download. The Sony Digital Reader is sold at Borders Books but you can't download any books from Borders.com.
Now we get to the crux of my post, why is Borders Books so behind the times? I was so excited when Borders opened in my neck of the woods a few years ago. I had sent them an email years ago, when this area was growing into a shopping mecca, to suggest that they consider opening a store here since Barnes and Noble was already around and I thought the competition would be nice. Well, they ignored my suggestion and allowed Barnes and Noble to have two stores in Northwest Arkansas and waited until they were well established before Borders saw the light.
Barnes and Noble has gotten the formula down pat with their Starbucks Coffee Shop area and free wi-fi. My Borders decided to put the coffee shop AND bathrooms upstairs so that both are inconvenient. They also decided to forgo the sitting areas that are so nice at B/N so I can't spontanously pick up a book or magazine to peruse.
Today I got an email from Borders with an announcement that they are going to have free wi-fi. Big deal. Lugging my laptop upstairs to their coffee area would be a pain in the butt and there won't be any electrical outlets since it is an afterthought. Too little too late.
Oh, my other gripe is that Borders got rid of their music. Yes folks you read that right, Borders no longer offers anything other that the most recent CD's from a small selection of musical artists. For the past two years I have gotten all of my music from Borders, and I buy lots of music, but those days are over.
I'm sure you, dear reader, are now thinking "why not just be happy with Barnes and Noble and shop there?". The reason why I am so attached to Borders is because I really like the staff and the manager is a client. I really want them to succeed. Ah, if only they had listened to me in the first place.
This brings me back to the first part of my post. Amazon has the Kindle, Barnes and Noble has the Nook. Both are eBook readers that use proprietary formats and require you to download from their websites. Borders Books sells the Sony Digital Reader but you can only download books from Sony's eBook site which doesn't make any sense to me. Why sell a reader that only generates profit one time? Borders needs to get with the program and develop a digital reader that will be even better than the Kindle or the Nook. Come on Borders, take that next step into the 21st century.
Update:
I now own a Kindle (love it!) and our Border's Books has gone out of business.
I also love technology and when I first saw the Kindle a few years ago I craved to own one. Unfortunately, the price tag was a bit steep and I could not justify the purchase. Now the price has come down by $50 and it is in its second generation. Just this week Barnes and Noble announced the arrival of the Nook so now I am in a quandry as to which eBook reader I should covet.
For those of you who don't know what a Kindle or a Nook is, they are electronic reading devices that allow you to download books from their websites for usually no more than ten bucks a book. Both of these devices use wireless technology so you can download a book from anywhere, unlike the Sony Digital Reader which requires you to be connected to a computer to download. The Sony Digital Reader is sold at Borders Books but you can't download any books from Borders.com.
Now we get to the crux of my post, why is Borders Books so behind the times? I was so excited when Borders opened in my neck of the woods a few years ago. I had sent them an email years ago, when this area was growing into a shopping mecca, to suggest that they consider opening a store here since Barnes and Noble was already around and I thought the competition would be nice. Well, they ignored my suggestion and allowed Barnes and Noble to have two stores in Northwest Arkansas and waited until they were well established before Borders saw the light.
Barnes and Noble has gotten the formula down pat with their Starbucks Coffee Shop area and free wi-fi. My Borders decided to put the coffee shop AND bathrooms upstairs so that both are inconvenient. They also decided to forgo the sitting areas that are so nice at B/N so I can't spontanously pick up a book or magazine to peruse.
Today I got an email from Borders with an announcement that they are going to have free wi-fi. Big deal. Lugging my laptop upstairs to their coffee area would be a pain in the butt and there won't be any electrical outlets since it is an afterthought. Too little too late.
Oh, my other gripe is that Borders got rid of their music. Yes folks you read that right, Borders no longer offers anything other that the most recent CD's from a small selection of musical artists. For the past two years I have gotten all of my music from Borders, and I buy lots of music, but those days are over.
I'm sure you, dear reader, are now thinking "why not just be happy with Barnes and Noble and shop there?". The reason why I am so attached to Borders is because I really like the staff and the manager is a client. I really want them to succeed. Ah, if only they had listened to me in the first place.
This brings me back to the first part of my post. Amazon has the Kindle, Barnes and Noble has the Nook. Both are eBook readers that use proprietary formats and require you to download from their websites. Borders Books sells the Sony Digital Reader but you can only download books from Sony's eBook site which doesn't make any sense to me. Why sell a reader that only generates profit one time? Borders needs to get with the program and develop a digital reader that will be even better than the Kindle or the Nook. Come on Borders, take that next step into the 21st century.
Update:
I now own a Kindle (love it!) and our Border's Books has gone out of business.
September 26, 2009
Fat Chics Need Clothes Too
Plus sized clothing sucks. Not just because it's plus sized, but because all plus sized clothing manufactures and designers think women who need that size are amazons. I see lots of women who are under 5'4" who shop in the BBW area of clothing stores but all of the pants, blouses, pajamas and dresses are made for large and tall women. Don't they realize that there are some big squatty bodies out there? If skinny chics can have a petite category then fat chics should have one too. How about a plumply petite size?
The other problem with plus sized clothing is that it is usually trendy or geared for young women. I don't mind having a few trendy items in my wardrobe but if I want something timely and classic my only choice is a pair of jeans or pants or a dressy suit. Newsflash to plus sized designers, I don't want to wear huge bright flowers on my blouses nor do I want street scenes from Paris or any other crappy graphics, save that for the fat juniors.
My other clothing pet peeve is cap-style sleeves. Most large women also have large arms and, while I'll say "more power to ya!" if you are one of those women who doesn't mind showing off your flabby upper arms, I think large women should be wearing either three-quarter-inch or long sleeves (at least in public). There is nothing less appealing on a big girl than that flab just above the elbow. And to let you know I'm not a sexist, I think it looks bad on men too. And please make clothing out of material that doesn't cling to my body. Fat rolls are not a pretty sight and while I know we shouldn't be ashamed of our bodies we also don't need to flaunt the fat. I like that phrase "flaunt the fat", I should make some t-shirts.
Now, don't get all bent out of shape for my use of the word fat. I'm fat, and if you wear the same size or larger clothing than I do then you're fat too. We need to stop shying away from words, but that is another topic.
I recall my mother and her girdles. There is a new product out for fat chics that mimic our mothers girdles but is supposed to be more comfortable. I'm sorry, anything that binds your boobs and stomach can't be comfortable and probably isn't good for your health. Remember when Scarlett has Mammy tie her girdle so tight that she can't eat? Not happening in my lifetime. The new term for girdles is "body-shapers" and one product is called "Spanx". The weird thing is that skinny girls are flocking to Spanx like a sub to a dominatrix. Heaven forbid if one ounce of fat can be pinched under that little black dress. Apparently, getting the thing off so you can use the toilet is quite a trick. Suffer skinny bitches.
I like comfort but I draw the line at muumuus. My mother wore muumuus or something like that for awhile. I refuse to wear a dress that makes me look like a tent. She also wore stretch pants that looked like stretch pants (the kind with the permanent pleat) and blouses made of some kind of awful material. Ah, those were the days.
Okay clothing stores and clothing designers, get busy and let us fat women wear your clothes proudly. And don't forget the little people.
The other problem with plus sized clothing is that it is usually trendy or geared for young women. I don't mind having a few trendy items in my wardrobe but if I want something timely and classic my only choice is a pair of jeans or pants or a dressy suit. Newsflash to plus sized designers, I don't want to wear huge bright flowers on my blouses nor do I want street scenes from Paris or any other crappy graphics, save that for the fat juniors.
My other clothing pet peeve is cap-style sleeves. Most large women also have large arms and, while I'll say "more power to ya!" if you are one of those women who doesn't mind showing off your flabby upper arms, I think large women should be wearing either three-quarter-inch or long sleeves (at least in public). There is nothing less appealing on a big girl than that flab just above the elbow. And to let you know I'm not a sexist, I think it looks bad on men too. And please make clothing out of material that doesn't cling to my body. Fat rolls are not a pretty sight and while I know we shouldn't be ashamed of our bodies we also don't need to flaunt the fat. I like that phrase "flaunt the fat", I should make some t-shirts.
Now, don't get all bent out of shape for my use of the word fat. I'm fat, and if you wear the same size or larger clothing than I do then you're fat too. We need to stop shying away from words, but that is another topic.
I recall my mother and her girdles. There is a new product out for fat chics that mimic our mothers girdles but is supposed to be more comfortable. I'm sorry, anything that binds your boobs and stomach can't be comfortable and probably isn't good for your health. Remember when Scarlett has Mammy tie her girdle so tight that she can't eat? Not happening in my lifetime. The new term for girdles is "body-shapers" and one product is called "Spanx". The weird thing is that skinny girls are flocking to Spanx like a sub to a dominatrix. Heaven forbid if one ounce of fat can be pinched under that little black dress. Apparently, getting the thing off so you can use the toilet is quite a trick. Suffer skinny bitches.
I like comfort but I draw the line at muumuus. My mother wore muumuus or something like that for awhile. I refuse to wear a dress that makes me look like a tent. She also wore stretch pants that looked like stretch pants (the kind with the permanent pleat) and blouses made of some kind of awful material. Ah, those were the days.
Okay clothing stores and clothing designers, get busy and let us fat women wear your clothes proudly. And don't forget the little people.
September 12, 2009
Bitter About Litter-boxes
I hate litter-boxes. For years my cats did their business outside, with the exception of really nasty snowy days when my orange cat would demand some kind of potty box inside. Oh, then there was the tabby cat who took to pissing behind my kitchen counter, which is an old beautiful woodworking bench, because she was old and getting senile. I have a cat door for chrisake! There is absolutely no reason for my cats to demand a litter-box, but they do.
I believe that demand stems from the mountain lion that may have killed my two male cats. The remaining cats must have been traumatized by the murders and now refuse to spend more than a few minutes out in the yard. They never wander far from the house and that includes Afina, the cat who spent years down at the neighbors house and only came home to eat. It's not like they would have a hard time finding the cat door, it has a blue carpeted ramp with a huge flamenco pink arrow pointing to it. I believe they do this just to aggravate me.
I will say it again, I hate litter-boxes. I know that cats are particular about their boxes so I have tried a few kinds. First came the huge open box with the clumping litter. That only produced tons of litter being scattered during scratching and litter being tracked all over the house. I then tried the same box with feline pine but got the same results. Then I bought a covered box with a cat door that swings (just like the door they used for years to get in and out of the house) but the cats wouldn't go through the door. Thankfully, the domed lid to the box can be raised so that the front is completely open and the rest of the box is surrounded. This works to some extent and when the cats scratch they no longer hurl litter all over the place. This particular box has what I call a trough whose function is to act as a litter-tracking guard. Well Assisi, the tortie cat, uses the trough as a urinal. She will scratch in the box, position her bottom over the trough and pee. This same cat will defecate inside the box but refuses to pee in the thing. I have placed a plastic place mat in front of the box for those times when she decides she doesn't even want the trough and would rather piss on the floor. I can't tell you how many times that place mat as saved her life! For awhile Assisi urinated on the place mat every time so I switched to clay litter thinking that she didn't like the clumping kind. For about a week she was a really good girl and actually pooped and peed inside the box, then I came home one day to urine in the trough. I am now going to switch back to the clumping litter to make my life easier which will allow Afina and Assisi to live another day.
I believe that demand stems from the mountain lion that may have killed my two male cats. The remaining cats must have been traumatized by the murders and now refuse to spend more than a few minutes out in the yard. They never wander far from the house and that includes Afina, the cat who spent years down at the neighbors house and only came home to eat. It's not like they would have a hard time finding the cat door, it has a blue carpeted ramp with a huge flamenco pink arrow pointing to it. I believe they do this just to aggravate me.
I will say it again, I hate litter-boxes. I know that cats are particular about their boxes so I have tried a few kinds. First came the huge open box with the clumping litter. That only produced tons of litter being scattered during scratching and litter being tracked all over the house. I then tried the same box with feline pine but got the same results. Then I bought a covered box with a cat door that swings (just like the door they used for years to get in and out of the house) but the cats wouldn't go through the door. Thankfully, the domed lid to the box can be raised so that the front is completely open and the rest of the box is surrounded. This works to some extent and when the cats scratch they no longer hurl litter all over the place. This particular box has what I call a trough whose function is to act as a litter-tracking guard. Well Assisi, the tortie cat, uses the trough as a urinal. She will scratch in the box, position her bottom over the trough and pee. This same cat will defecate inside the box but refuses to pee in the thing. I have placed a plastic place mat in front of the box for those times when she decides she doesn't even want the trough and would rather piss on the floor. I can't tell you how many times that place mat as saved her life! For awhile Assisi urinated on the place mat every time so I switched to clay litter thinking that she didn't like the clumping kind. For about a week she was a really good girl and actually pooped and peed inside the box, then I came home one day to urine in the trough. I am now going to switch back to the clumping litter to make my life easier which will allow Afina and Assisi to live another day.
September 11, 2009
Funky Town
I have been dragging around for the past month and can't seem to come out of my funk.
It has gotten so bad that I won't allow anyone to come over because my house is so awfully nasty. Gawd, I sometimes hate this place. The unsealed cement floor downstairs is hard to keep clean, especially for someone like me who is not the best house keeper in the world.
When I get into this funk I don't have the energy or sedulousness (new word for me) to even bother with vacuuming, let alone mopping, so the grime is out of hand. Of course, as I let the funk take over it puts me in a deeper funk and the cycle spirals downwards.
You dear reader are thinking, "Hello! Depression!".
Now, I don't think I'm depressed but I'll bet a psychologist would think otherwise.
I remember when my marriage was falling apart and my ex decided to get counseling for himself (not marriage counseling, no he had no desire to "save" the marriage he just wanted to know why he was staying in the relationship) his psychologist told him that I was depressed even though she had never met me. Fucking bitch.
Here's the deal. I have wacky thyroid. About five years ago I began having insomnia. Then my hands started shaking so bad that I could not write well. I felt so weak that my legs would even shake. When I was in bed I would dream that I was running and wake to find my heart pounding so hard I could hear it. Well, it turned out that I was hyperthyroid (runs in the family) which can cause horrible mood swings. Let me tell you, I was the bitch from hell most of the time.
I know, hard to imagine.
Wacky thyroid can also cause/contribute to high blood pressure. I'm surprised I didn't have a heart attack as my pressure was so high.
After taking the three hundred dollar radioactive iodine capsule my thyroid was effectively killed and now I am on thyroid medication for life. I'm also on blood pressure meds but that's probably because I'm so fat. Not only do I have wacky thyroid, I'm also over fifty and both factors make it especially hard to keep the weight down. Of course, I don't try very hard so I can't really blame my weight on that.
Why did I tell you this? Because I went to the doctor for my yearly medication refill exam and lab work and it turns out that my thyroid medication was not right and my thyroid levels were low. No wonder I've been in such a funk!
In two weeks, according to my doctor, I should be as good as new when my thyroid levels are back where they should be. That will be just in the nick of time for that is when Matthew is coming over to install my new kitchen sink cabinet and I will need to get to work cleaning under the existing cabinet and getting all of the junk out of his way.
Get me out of Funky Town!
It has gotten so bad that I won't allow anyone to come over because my house is so awfully nasty. Gawd, I sometimes hate this place. The unsealed cement floor downstairs is hard to keep clean, especially for someone like me who is not the best house keeper in the world.
When I get into this funk I don't have the energy or sedulousness (new word for me) to even bother with vacuuming, let alone mopping, so the grime is out of hand. Of course, as I let the funk take over it puts me in a deeper funk and the cycle spirals downwards.
You dear reader are thinking, "Hello! Depression!".
Now, I don't think I'm depressed but I'll bet a psychologist would think otherwise.
I remember when my marriage was falling apart and my ex decided to get counseling for himself (not marriage counseling, no he had no desire to "save" the marriage he just wanted to know why he was staying in the relationship) his psychologist told him that I was depressed even though she had never met me. Fucking bitch.
Here's the deal. I have wacky thyroid. About five years ago I began having insomnia. Then my hands started shaking so bad that I could not write well. I felt so weak that my legs would even shake. When I was in bed I would dream that I was running and wake to find my heart pounding so hard I could hear it. Well, it turned out that I was hyperthyroid (runs in the family) which can cause horrible mood swings. Let me tell you, I was the bitch from hell most of the time.
I know, hard to imagine.
Wacky thyroid can also cause/contribute to high blood pressure. I'm surprised I didn't have a heart attack as my pressure was so high.
After taking the three hundred dollar radioactive iodine capsule my thyroid was effectively killed and now I am on thyroid medication for life. I'm also on blood pressure meds but that's probably because I'm so fat. Not only do I have wacky thyroid, I'm also over fifty and both factors make it especially hard to keep the weight down. Of course, I don't try very hard so I can't really blame my weight on that.
Why did I tell you this? Because I went to the doctor for my yearly medication refill exam and lab work and it turns out that my thyroid medication was not right and my thyroid levels were low. No wonder I've been in such a funk!
In two weeks, according to my doctor, I should be as good as new when my thyroid levels are back where they should be. That will be just in the nick of time for that is when Matthew is coming over to install my new kitchen sink cabinet and I will need to get to work cleaning under the existing cabinet and getting all of the junk out of his way.
Get me out of Funky Town!
August 9, 2009
Love is a Many Splintered Thing
I have some friends whose marriage has come to an end. Divorce is never fun or easy but it is often for the better. This marriage has been in trouble for years and it is a wonder to me that it took so long for one of them to realize that it is better to be divorced than to be in a relationship with someone you no longer love or like. There are so many events that can end a relationship and I know that both partners are usually at fault. The following is my experience.
Kelly and I were married for 11 years, separated for 1 year and divorced after 12 years. The end of our marriage was the beginning of both of our lives. We had grown to dislike each other and were cruel and disrespectful. What happened? I can only speak for myself and from my point of view. Here is my version of the story.
Kelly and I had lived together on and off for about five years before we decided to make our union legal. I had sworn to myself that I would never get married but I fell into the trap of social norms and the dream of a life-long commitment to one person. We got married in 1986 and were fairly happy for the first six years. We had fun together, had sex fairly often and liked each others company. We did most everything together and took interest in the same activities. Gradually I grew to dislike doing most of those activities. Kelly's life is music and we played music together, which I liked for quite a few years. I am a flute player and he plays all things with strings. We played at a local restaurant with me on flute, recorder, pump organ and various percussion instruments and Kelly on guitar and banjo and both of us doing vocals. I never was any good on the pump organ and I grew to resent the fact that he didn't understand that I am a flute player and that I didn't like playing keyboards or recorder or percussion. Kelly is an avid bird watcher and stargazer and we did both activities often. I grew to dislike birdwatching so quit doing that activity with him. Once me moved into our house we no longer had the opportunities for stargazing. You notice that all of the activities we enjoyed were his passions, not mine. Yes, I was one of those women who basically lived her husbands life. Ick.
I truly believe that Kelly was more interested in pleasing other people than in pleasing me. If his parents said they wanted him to do something, it was done pronto. If a friend needed him to help them do something, he was right there. If I asked him to do something I had to wait in line and I was always at the end of a very long line.
Kelly had never been monogamous before we married but I suddenly expected him to be. If fact, before we married I asked him if he could be monogamous and he said he thought that he could. Well, I never trusted him around other women and I'm sure he sensed that. Therefore, when he finally drifted to another woman I was self-justified in my suspicions. Gads, what an awful way to treat someone.
I stopped enjoying sex, especially with him. When our relationship first began I was the main initiator of sex. When I stopped being the initiator our sex life slowed down and as it slowed I enjoyed it less. Plus, our sex life had become so very boring and predictable. Current wisdom says that the more sex you have, the more you want to have sex. I am a firm believer in this, and a shining example.
By the end of our marriage, the end being the last 4 years, I resented Kelly and felt as though I was just a caretaker. I paid his bills, washed his clothes and cleaned his house (though not that well) while he pursued his passions. I remember crying most every day the last year we were actually together and sometimes wishing him dead. I wanted out of the relationship just as badly as he did but I couldn't think of a way to end it. I think many women do exactly the same thing I did, they drive their spouses into the arms of someone else and then go crazy when it happens. And I think many men can't fathom living alone so they continue to live with a person they dislike until someone better comes along.
I drove Kelly into the arms of another woman and then went crazy weirdo on him, but that woman is absolutely perfect for him. I, on the other hand, love being single and have no interest in living with someone ever again. I have absolutely no regrets about our marriage or our divorce as both taught me so very much. I will leave out the crazy weirdo things I did when Kelly finally said the words "I want a divorce" and leave this post with a list of lessons learned.
Lesson number 1:
A successful relationship requires that both partners take an interest in each others activities and passions.
Lesson number 2:
Have respect for your significant other and put his/her needs second only to your own.
Lesson number 3:
Mistrust is a relationship killer.
Lesson number 4:
Keep your sex life active and interesting.
Lesson number 5:
Life is too short to stay in a relationship that makes you unhappy.
Lesson number 6:
Divorce is not the end of the world and can change your life for the better.
Now for my favorite quote about love...
"Love isn't something you feel; it's something you do. If the person you're with doesn't want it, do yourself a favor and save it for someone who does."
Kelly and I were married for 11 years, separated for 1 year and divorced after 12 years. The end of our marriage was the beginning of both of our lives. We had grown to dislike each other and were cruel and disrespectful. What happened? I can only speak for myself and from my point of view. Here is my version of the story.
Kelly and I had lived together on and off for about five years before we decided to make our union legal. I had sworn to myself that I would never get married but I fell into the trap of social norms and the dream of a life-long commitment to one person. We got married in 1986 and were fairly happy for the first six years. We had fun together, had sex fairly often and liked each others company. We did most everything together and took interest in the same activities. Gradually I grew to dislike doing most of those activities. Kelly's life is music and we played music together, which I liked for quite a few years. I am a flute player and he plays all things with strings. We played at a local restaurant with me on flute, recorder, pump organ and various percussion instruments and Kelly on guitar and banjo and both of us doing vocals. I never was any good on the pump organ and I grew to resent the fact that he didn't understand that I am a flute player and that I didn't like playing keyboards or recorder or percussion. Kelly is an avid bird watcher and stargazer and we did both activities often. I grew to dislike birdwatching so quit doing that activity with him. Once me moved into our house we no longer had the opportunities for stargazing. You notice that all of the activities we enjoyed were his passions, not mine. Yes, I was one of those women who basically lived her husbands life. Ick.
I truly believe that Kelly was more interested in pleasing other people than in pleasing me. If his parents said they wanted him to do something, it was done pronto. If a friend needed him to help them do something, he was right there. If I asked him to do something I had to wait in line and I was always at the end of a very long line.
Kelly had never been monogamous before we married but I suddenly expected him to be. If fact, before we married I asked him if he could be monogamous and he said he thought that he could. Well, I never trusted him around other women and I'm sure he sensed that. Therefore, when he finally drifted to another woman I was self-justified in my suspicions. Gads, what an awful way to treat someone.
I stopped enjoying sex, especially with him. When our relationship first began I was the main initiator of sex. When I stopped being the initiator our sex life slowed down and as it slowed I enjoyed it less. Plus, our sex life had become so very boring and predictable. Current wisdom says that the more sex you have, the more you want to have sex. I am a firm believer in this, and a shining example.
By the end of our marriage, the end being the last 4 years, I resented Kelly and felt as though I was just a caretaker. I paid his bills, washed his clothes and cleaned his house (though not that well) while he pursued his passions. I remember crying most every day the last year we were actually together and sometimes wishing him dead. I wanted out of the relationship just as badly as he did but I couldn't think of a way to end it. I think many women do exactly the same thing I did, they drive their spouses into the arms of someone else and then go crazy when it happens. And I think many men can't fathom living alone so they continue to live with a person they dislike until someone better comes along.
I drove Kelly into the arms of another woman and then went crazy weirdo on him, but that woman is absolutely perfect for him. I, on the other hand, love being single and have no interest in living with someone ever again. I have absolutely no regrets about our marriage or our divorce as both taught me so very much. I will leave out the crazy weirdo things I did when Kelly finally said the words "I want a divorce" and leave this post with a list of lessons learned.
Lesson number 1:
A successful relationship requires that both partners take an interest in each others activities and passions.
Lesson number 2:
Have respect for your significant other and put his/her needs second only to your own.
Lesson number 3:
Mistrust is a relationship killer.
Lesson number 4:
Keep your sex life active and interesting.
Lesson number 5:
Life is too short to stay in a relationship that makes you unhappy.
Lesson number 6:
Divorce is not the end of the world and can change your life for the better.
Now for my favorite quote about love...
"Love isn't something you feel; it's something you do. If the person you're with doesn't want it, do yourself a favor and save it for someone who does."
August 7, 2009
Mastering the Art of Not Cooking
My name is Sarah and I am a food addict.
I just saw "Julie and Julia" and was enthralled and captivated throughout the film. I then just had to get a wedge of brie and a sourdough baguette. Unfortunately, when I got to the store there was no brie...just a "triple cream" cheese (oh, too bad) and I had to get the baguette at Atlanta Bread Company. Oh the trials and tribulations of a foodie living in Northwest Arkansas.
I only wish there were a vegetarian version of "Mastering the Art of French Cooking". I guess Deborah Madison's "Greens" cookbook might be a close equivilent but there is no way in hell I am going to take that much time to cook, unless I'm having dinner guests. Her recipes are enticing and sound delicious but parchament paper is just too much.
And that is the point of the film and food writers in general. Too many people are not willing to spend the time it takes to make the creations Mrs. Child wrote about all those years ago even though each recipe may be a masterpiece. There are so many shortcuts a cook can take these days but it seems that too many cooks think that spending more than fifteen minutes preparing a meal is too time consuming.
I am so lucky to know people who believe in cooking and using fresh ingredients in the preparation of their meals. I, on the other hand, am the laziest of the lazies and will, more often than not, reach for an Amy's Kitchen frozen entree or get something to go from a favorite restaurant. Salad greens in a bag? You bet! Grated cheese in a ziplock? Hand it over! Dressing in a bottle? Pour it on! I'm even at the point that a decent a bottle of wine with a cork instead of a screw top is getting a bit bothersome.
That is why I love having people over for dinner. I get to churn my creative juices and lose myself in the preparation of a meal that I hope others will enjoy. I love shopping for and planning a menu, just like Julia Child. I only wish that someday there will be another like her...someone who loves to create recipes for the sake of eating, not for monetary gain.
Hmmm, Mollie Katzen comes to mind...
Ms. Lazy has finished her Henri Hutin Triple Cream Belletoile cheese with sourdough baguette and martini and was planning on a salad but is too full for anything else, other than a brownie. Not quite the meal I had envisioned after the movie. Maybe I should have gone out to eat.
Growing a snout now.
I just saw "Julie and Julia" and was enthralled and captivated throughout the film. I then just had to get a wedge of brie and a sourdough baguette. Unfortunately, when I got to the store there was no brie...just a "triple cream" cheese (oh, too bad) and I had to get the baguette at Atlanta Bread Company. Oh the trials and tribulations of a foodie living in Northwest Arkansas.
I only wish there were a vegetarian version of "Mastering the Art of French Cooking". I guess Deborah Madison's "Greens" cookbook might be a close equivilent but there is no way in hell I am going to take that much time to cook, unless I'm having dinner guests. Her recipes are enticing and sound delicious but parchament paper is just too much.
And that is the point of the film and food writers in general. Too many people are not willing to spend the time it takes to make the creations Mrs. Child wrote about all those years ago even though each recipe may be a masterpiece. There are so many shortcuts a cook can take these days but it seems that too many cooks think that spending more than fifteen minutes preparing a meal is too time consuming.
I am so lucky to know people who believe in cooking and using fresh ingredients in the preparation of their meals. I, on the other hand, am the laziest of the lazies and will, more often than not, reach for an Amy's Kitchen frozen entree or get something to go from a favorite restaurant. Salad greens in a bag? You bet! Grated cheese in a ziplock? Hand it over! Dressing in a bottle? Pour it on! I'm even at the point that a decent a bottle of wine with a cork instead of a screw top is getting a bit bothersome.
That is why I love having people over for dinner. I get to churn my creative juices and lose myself in the preparation of a meal that I hope others will enjoy. I love shopping for and planning a menu, just like Julia Child. I only wish that someday there will be another like her...someone who loves to create recipes for the sake of eating, not for monetary gain.
Hmmm, Mollie Katzen comes to mind...
Ms. Lazy has finished her Henri Hutin Triple Cream Belletoile cheese with sourdough baguette and martini and was planning on a salad but is too full for anything else, other than a brownie. Not quite the meal I had envisioned after the movie. Maybe I should have gone out to eat.
Growing a snout now.
July 21, 2009
Total Rambling on a Tuesday Morning
This morning I am listening to the rain, eating my yogurt/blueberry/granola mush with the dog and cats on the couch next to me. What could be better?
Ever since the spider bite, a brown recluse about two weeks ago, I have been a total slug. Not that I need much of an excuse to be a slug but the pain from the bite has made it nearly impossible to do any housework besides laundry, dishes and minimal cooking. Now that I am on the road to recovery I will have to get my ass in gear and clean up this mess.
I had no idea that brown recluse bites were so common. Every time I tell someone what happened to my arm they relate either their own personal story or one about a friend or family member. The range of damage from the bites goes from minimal to large holes in the affected area. Fortunately, I think I will be in the first category as the bruising is shrinking daily and there still is no skin funk.
I am still sleepy even after 3 cups of coffee. I got more sleep last night than I have since the spider bite and was actually able to sleep on my side for awhile. I have been sleeping on my couch on my back with my affected arm on a pillow and until this week had to wrap the arm in an icy cold towel just to keep it from throbbing. I would have to get up every so often to change the towel so I have been sleep deprived for quite some time. I guess it's all catching up to me now.
Nothing more to report from my neck of the Northwest Arkansas woods.
Ever since the spider bite, a brown recluse about two weeks ago, I have been a total slug. Not that I need much of an excuse to be a slug but the pain from the bite has made it nearly impossible to do any housework besides laundry, dishes and minimal cooking. Now that I am on the road to recovery I will have to get my ass in gear and clean up this mess.
I had no idea that brown recluse bites were so common. Every time I tell someone what happened to my arm they relate either their own personal story or one about a friend or family member. The range of damage from the bites goes from minimal to large holes in the affected area. Fortunately, I think I will be in the first category as the bruising is shrinking daily and there still is no skin funk.
I am still sleepy even after 3 cups of coffee. I got more sleep last night than I have since the spider bite and was actually able to sleep on my side for awhile. I have been sleeping on my couch on my back with my affected arm on a pillow and until this week had to wrap the arm in an icy cold towel just to keep it from throbbing. I would have to get up every so often to change the towel so I have been sleep deprived for quite some time. I guess it's all catching up to me now.
Nothing more to report from my neck of the Northwest Arkansas woods.
July 19, 2009
Hind Sight Looking Forward
While I was driving to town yesterday I began thinking about young women now and all of the fun choices they have. This made me start feeling a bit nostalgic about my youth and the many paths my life has taken. I started making a list in my head of all of the things I would have done differently in my youth (or would do now if I were younger) and decided to write them down.
If I knew then what I know now I would have...
If I knew then what I know now I would have...
- Learned to play the piano
- Said yes to "will you play in our band?"
- Started an all girl band
- Never been a follower
- Stayed independent
- Never gotten married
- Never worn a bra
- Stayed a size 10 so I could always wear vintage clothes
- Learned to like sewing
- Worked in a restaurant
- Learned how to rollerskate
- Been a rollerblade girl
- Not wasted time going to college
- Taken a writing class
- Kept a journal
July 17, 2009
Vacuity Is My Middle Name
I admit that I found "vacuity" when I was looking up "nothingness" in the Thesaurus. I wanted a word that started with an "F" but there seems to be none that conveys my meaning.
Vacuity:
Okay, food talk.
I love "Brown Cow" label non-fat vanilla yogurt...it is like vanilla cream but guilt free. I had blueberries, yogurt and granola for breakfast. Yum!
Dinner was "Amy's" Broccoli Pot Pie with kalamata olives and Stone Mill Bakery french bread.
I will be following that up with Almond Peach Pie from Java-Jacks bakery while watching "Mad Men" season 2/disc 1.
Now, drug talk.
I am on Prednisone and it is supposed to make you hungry, cranky and (some other side-effect I've forgotten). It has done none of these things. I think the hunger feeling is just stomach upset that people mistake for hunger. How would I know if I'm cranky since I'm always a bitch? Since I can't recall the other thing, then it is meaningless. So, the next time you need to be on steroids for a short period of time, don't hesitate..it's better than scratching until you bleed!
Vacuity:
- Total absence of matter; emptiness.
- An empty space; a vacuum.
- Total lack of ideas; emptiness of mind.
- Absence of meaningful occupation; idleness: "the crew, being patient people, much given to slumber and vacuity" (Washington Irving).
- The quality or fact of being devoid of something specified: a vacuity of taste; a vacuity of emotions.
Okay, food talk.
I love "Brown Cow" label non-fat vanilla yogurt...it is like vanilla cream but guilt free. I had blueberries, yogurt and granola for breakfast. Yum!
Dinner was "Amy's" Broccoli Pot Pie with kalamata olives and Stone Mill Bakery french bread.
I will be following that up with Almond Peach Pie from Java-Jacks bakery while watching "Mad Men" season 2/disc 1.
Now, drug talk.
I am on Prednisone and it is supposed to make you hungry, cranky and (some other side-effect I've forgotten). It has done none of these things. I think the hunger feeling is just stomach upset that people mistake for hunger. How would I know if I'm cranky since I'm always a bitch? Since I can't recall the other thing, then it is meaningless. So, the next time you need to be on steroids for a short period of time, don't hesitate..it's better than scratching until you bleed!
July 16, 2009
Lunch and a Movie
I had the most wonder lunch at Hammontree's Grilled Cheese today with my friends Matt and Sheila Ross. This place has the best sandwich I have ever had, hands down. I had the Brie's Company which is grilled apple, Brie, Gouda, caramelized onions, and a fig compote on sourdough bread. Oh my gawd!
Sheila had the Caprese Melt which is fresh Mozzarella, pesto, tomato bruschetta, fresh basil leaf with their house cheese blend on sourdough bread. Yummy!!
Matt had the El Chupacabre which is Pulled Pork, Queso Fresca, Manchego, poblano peppers, and a green mole sauce served on sourdough bread. This guy is a major food snob but said it was good and will make a return trip (let me tell you, that's saying something).
Okay, enough about the food already.
After that we went to see "Bruno". I laughed so hard that my stomach hurt. If you like "in your face irreverence" and "made to shock even the most die-hard" you will love this movie. The scene at the fight club in Fort Smith, Arkansas made the whole thing worth while. I can't wait until it comes to DVD to see it again so I can find out what I missed while laughing until I cried.
I'll keep this short and sweet since it's my first post since February, 2008. A lot has happened since then but my life is still as boring as always so I hope you enjoyed this little slice of my uneventful life. I'll tell you about the spider bite later.
Sheila had the Caprese Melt which is fresh Mozzarella, pesto, tomato bruschetta, fresh basil leaf with their house cheese blend on sourdough bread. Yummy!!
Matt had the El Chupacabre which is Pulled Pork, Queso Fresca, Manchego, poblano peppers, and a green mole sauce served on sourdough bread. This guy is a major food snob but said it was good and will make a return trip (let me tell you, that's saying something).
Okay, enough about the food already.
After that we went to see "Bruno". I laughed so hard that my stomach hurt. If you like "in your face irreverence" and "made to shock even the most die-hard" you will love this movie. The scene at the fight club in Fort Smith, Arkansas made the whole thing worth while. I can't wait until it comes to DVD to see it again so I can find out what I missed while laughing until I cried.
I'll keep this short and sweet since it's my first post since February, 2008. A lot has happened since then but my life is still as boring as always so I hope you enjoyed this little slice of my uneventful life. I'll tell you about the spider bite later.
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