Archive for October, 2008

October 30, 2008

This is from one my favorite websites, Indexed.

(Okay, which is dorkier, my love of those darn stickers or my love of Venn Diagrams?)


He got what was coming to him…

October 29, 2008

Yesterday I wrote this but didn’t get around to posting it:
I am a Democrat. Surrounded by three Republicans.

Three self-righteous Republicans. Ugh.

None of them regularly read the newspaper, or watch any news other than FOX. One told me that I am “drinking the Obama Kool-Aid.” Another said that Palin would “help kids with special needs” when she actually cut services for the families of such children during her governorship. The third says he’s a Republican and pro-McCain but can’t do anything other than parrot what his father says.

Worse than uninformed, they’re ill-informed.

The pervasive message that Obama voters are imbeciles floating on a cloud of “hope,” worshipping their idol is condescending.

It’s also bullshit. I know Obama isn’t perfect, for example, I disagree with his campaign’s stance on gay marriage. Nevertheless, looking at our available choices, he definitely beats a man who chose a running mate based upon a perceived mobilization of voters rather than the good of the country.

And if I hear “Obama is a Socialist” one more time, my head is going to fucking explode.

Luckily I waited to post it, as last night I came up with a solution to some of my frustration. The kids were in bed, the lights and clothes were off…

“First say ‘Obama is NOT a Socialist'”

Sign ‘O the Times

October 27, 2008

My parents are getting divorced today and I found out about it via my mom’s MySpace page!

I guess that would sound a lot more tragic if I were, like 13, rather than 37.
Of course, I did know that it was coming. They’ve been seperated for about two years.
And, unlike your average 13 year old, I didn’t think it was my fault or that they would get back together!

It’s a difficult situation, in that my mom was miserable married, but my dad was happy and now the roles have essentially reversed. My mom is enjoying the freedom of being single, of having only herself to take care of, but I don’t think my dad pictured being alone in his retirement, the financial struggles or the difficulty of running a household by himself. (The fact that he does most of his grocery shopping at Dollar General is pretty telling!)

My only worry, step-parents. It would be weird, at my age, to have a step-parent, or, even crazier, step-siblings!


October 22, 2008

Last night Taylor and I went on a walk. Well, I was walking; he was skateboarding next to me and I asked him, “Why did you want a skateboard?”

Taylor: “Bored”

Me: “Well, what about homework? And chores? And spending time with your loving Mama?”

Taylor: “Um, that’s what I’m doing right now.”

Me: “Oh, yah, you are sooooo lucky that I am soooooo cool. I’m like the Lorelai Gilmore of Princeville.”
“Except I’m a bit chubbier than her.”
“And blonder”

Taylor: “And you’re not as pretty.”

October 20, 2008

One day the high school secretary called me at work. “Taylor is sick. He’s lying in the hall and can’t get up.”

OMG. My teenager is so ill he can’t get up? He’s a freshman, lying IN THE HALLWAY at school? He must be REALLY, REALLY SICK. My mind raced to appendicitis and I was frantic. I called my husband, Chris, who, luckily, hadn’t left for work yet. He ran to the high school.

Taylor was in the office and said he felt “okay.” Chris sat and talked to him; the nurse came and took his temp, said he didn’t have one, asked him some questions and, satisfied that he was okay, sent him back to class.

Whew. Relief.

But, WTF? I couldn’t help but wonder what possessed my son, a quiet, slightly shy fourteen year old to LIE ON THE FLOOR of the HALLWAY at SCHOOL.

Really, his social skills are pretty good, I swear! He’s not the kid dressed in ill-fitting polyester pants, a plaid shirt and pocket protector. (Not that there’s anything wrong with with that!)

I asked Taylor and he said he just didn’t feel well, no big deal.

Digging deeper, I asked one of his friends, W., who said “No, I didn’t know he got…. OH, yah, Ms. T. told us about that, that a boy got sick during 1st hour health, while looking at slides of STD’s.”

I guess someone won’t be having unprotected sex.

Double-Chocolate Muffins

October 15, 2008

Yesterday I took the day off work to go hiking with two of my friends, MarySue and Laura, at Starved Rock. We had a really great time and walked eight miles. We didn’t get killed by a serial killer but we did have to use a port-a-potty.

The night before I made this muffin recipe and it was really good.

Better than Canyon Sex Double-Chocolate Muffins (adapted from Eat Better America)
1 cup Fiber One® cereal
1 1/3 cups buttermilk (I used low-fat buttermilk)
1/4 cup canola or vegetable oil (you can also sub in applesauce for part or all of the oil)
1 egg
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup unsweetened baking cocoa
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup miniature semisweet chocolate chips (I used regular, not mini chips)
1-2 mashed ripe bananas (I added one)

1. Heat oven to 375°F. Place paper baking cup in each of 12 regular-size muffin cups. Place cereal in resealable food-storage plastic bag; seal bag and crush with rolling pin or meat mallet (or crush in food processor).
2. In medium bowl, mix cereal and buttermilk; let stand 5 minutes. Stir in oil, vanilla, egg, brown sugar and mashed banana, (if using).
3. Combine the flours, baking soda and salt. Add the chocolate chips. Stir with fork or whisk. (Mixing the chips in with the flour helps keep them from sinking to the bottom of the muffin when they are baking).
4. Add the flour mixture to the liquid mixture and stir just til moistened. (There will be lumps and that is fine, you just don’t want dry streaks of flour.)
5. Divide batter evenly among muffin cups.
3. Bake 15 to 20 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Immediately remove from pan.

Nutritional Information
(The nutritional stats don’t include the added banana)
1 Muffin: Calories 210 (Calories from Fat 70); Total Fat 7g (Saturated Fat 2g, Trans Fat 0g); Cholesterol 20mg; Sodium 360mg; Total Carbohydrate 31g (Dietary Fiber 4g, Sugars 17g); Protein 4g Percent Daily Value*: Vitamin A 2%; Vitamin C 0%; Calcium 8%; Iron 10% Exchanges: 1 Starch; 1 Other Carbohydrate; 0 Vegetable; 1 1/2 Fat Carbohydrate Choices: 2
*Percent Daily Values are based on a 2,000 calorie diet.
MyPyramid Servings 1 tsp Fats & Oils, 1 oz-equivalents Grains

“The Trail” (a’la “The Road”)

October 15, 2008

The trail loomed ahead of the woman and the dog, long, desolate, winding. The destination, mile marker eight. What would be waiting there. Civilization in the form of a wooden bench. An austere marker proclaiming our slight progress. Or would the travels and travails be for nought.

Walking, passing wooly caterpillars inching across the leaf strewn path, the woman pondered. Does he know the water is low. One small bottle of aquafina for a five mile treck. He carries distant memories, memories of his mother, of a spot near the window that he liked to lie and bathe his white coated body in the intruding sunlight.

Occasionally overcome by a fellow traveler, head covered in protective gear, with a shout of “rider to the left.” Does he know where he is going. Is his destination worthwhile.

The dog, wishing to leave some vestige of his presence on the forboding landscape occasionally stops, making the absence of a baggy careless and necessitating leaf scuffing to cover the pungent tracks that would betray our existence, reckless, lackadaisical hikers.

The path alternates between shade-covered and sun-dappled. The dog wishes to run. Dont. Save your energy, you will need it. He looks sulky. Does he understand.

Finally approaching mile marker nine. Awash in relief, however the journey is not complete and the woman’s heel is calloused and chafing. The yellow bulbous creatures keep landing and stinging, wounding the woman’s fragile skin but not the dog with his tough furry hide.

Once the summit is reached, mile marker eight, what then. Will the woman’s ass be smaller. Will the world be a better place. Will thatone and theotherone still be bickering, an endless spate of meaningless words not answering the questions they have been asked.

Rounding a bend, the sign encroaches upon the wind bitten landscape. Walking one tree past it the dog and the woman turn around and head home.

One topic, two conversations

October 8, 2008

My favorite commercial is back on the air again; it’s the skittles one where everything the guy touches turns to the colorful, tasty, little orbs. His officemates are jealous and he gives them a dressing down, asking,
“Did you dress yourself today?”
and mentioning not being able to hold his newborn son.

ALWAYS cracks me up.

Reagan’s question:
How did he and his wife make a baby?

My response:
“I guess his wife has a skittle-y hoohah.”

Chris and I have been going on a walk every weekday morning, early, before work. He always tells me about his most recent dream, which astonishes me, as I rarely remember any of mine.

Oddly, all of his end “and then we had sex,” whether the dream was about playing high school football, attending a dance recital or the death of his grandmother.*

*Gosh, I guess I should clarify that “we” is the two of us, not the football team, balllerinas or his babcia!

I won a fish! Yes, a fish!

October 3, 2008

(The kind you eat, not a pet.)
Thank you Food Blogga! And Kona Blue!

The kona kampachi was caught in Hawaii on Sunday, shipped on Monday and arrived on Wednesday. Thus we had super fresh fish last night.

But first we had to get a bit of butchering out of the way!

Meet Mr. Fish:
(Creative, no? I also have a Jack Russell Terrier named “Jack” and a child named “It.” )

Admittedly, when I opened the package I thought “Shit.” The fish was lovely and fresh, but skin? Gills? Eyeballs? Guts? A little overwhelming!

Reagan and Chris arrived home as I was ogling Mr. Fish (he was ogling me, too!) and Reagan said “Oh, cool, I’ll go look up directions and we can fillet it.”

What? My thirteen year old girl child WANTS to help clean and fillet the fish?

She printed off the directions and we gathered in our tiny kitchen. I started on dinner, migas, while they worked on the fish:

They cut off the head:

And, while I cut up bell pepper, onion, jalapeno, corn tortillas and cilantro for dinner, Reagan pulled out the guts and then started following the line of the bones with her knife, to seperate the fish into two large fillets:

(My child will never pose or smile for pictures, unless, apparently, you give her a knife!)

The fish being filleted:

Taylor, tasting a piece of raw fish:

We all tasted it raw and it was delicious. If I had good knife skills I would have made some sushi.

Chris and Reagan did a great job filleting the fish; we ended up with two really large fillets that I carefully wrapped up to cook the next (last) night.

I decided to lightly season it, hoping to not overwhelm the delicate flavor of the fish. One fillet I sprinkled with a bit of dill, garlic and lemon zest, the other with paprika, a tiny bit of cayenne, and cumin. I heated a small amout of olive oil in a large nonstick pan until it was hot and cooked the fillets seperately for about 3 minutes per side. I wanted the fish to be slightly under-done, as kona kampachi is sushi grade and tastes really great raw. (I HATE overcooked fish!). We had Ms. Fish (eggs were discovered during the filleting!) with broccoli (sauteed with garlic, olive oil, and red pepper flakes) and breadsticks.

Our dinner:

Again, I thank Kona Blue and Food Blogga for giving us the opportunity to try this delicious fish. It was wonderful (the fish, and seeing my daughter tackle something I found daunting with such aplomb!)

One last picture,
Cute Pie Reagan: