Saturday, April 9, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Monday, April 4, 2011
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Make Mine A Cold One
Am big ol' snarky bitch. I know it. I apologize.
This time of year is always tough for me. March 31 is approaching. July 09 is going to be worse. Prepare yourselves now.
Seven years ago, my world changed. Irreversibly. There is no way to fix what happened. There is no cure for what went wrong.
I had been in pain most of the day. I did all the things that usually made the pain go away. I would learn later that the things I did to end the pain were the equivalent of myth and it was merely coincidence that the pain ended when it did it.
That night it literally took all I had to crawl up 14 stairs from a basement and fling myself on a landing loud enough so someone would hear me. The pain was so bad, I could not speak. Yes, that's right, I could not speak. It took all I had to lay there and gasp for air. I felt like I was being stabbed. Not that I know what that feels like but the Drama Queen who dwells within has decided that is exactly what it would feel like.
I don't know how long it took the ambulance to get there but I do know it took three EMT's to pry me out of the fetal position. I remember being on a stretcher and hearing "Responds to stimuli, does not respond to commands." I had this moment of clarity at that point. Something inside me told me I was waaaay more than a wee bit fucked and all really was not well. I remember the needle. I remember the morphine hitting my blood stream and every part of me becoming very cold while my upper lip curled under. They had me on my back where the pain was and I couldn't get the words out to tell them. My mouth was dry and I had trouble seeing. Pain really can be blinding. I remember the disjointed screams; it sounded like me but it didn't feel like me. I remember the hot ambulance dood calling the hospital and asking if he could tranquilize me. Really really.
The next 20 hours were a blur. The stuff that was put in my I.V. before the CT scan made me feel like I had peed myself. The doc was sweet when he gave me the bad news and assured me that I had in fact not wet the bed but, on the ride back from the CT scan, I had vomited all over the halls of his nice, clean ER.
The rest is just a blur.
What I can tell you is this... for me, morphine is my go-to pain killer... what had previously been diagnosed as a "fussy" appendix would turn out to be gallstones that had pretty much turned my gall bladder into a big rock that was messing things up for my liver and pancreas... pancreatitis had developed because of the long term, untreated gall bladder disease... I would need to have surgery to remove the gall bladder... my pancreas was broken... no more alcohol, beef, pork, lamb, wild game, or fatty foods. I miss all of you.
The next few months after that were also life changing. Three and a half months later my gall bladder was removed through my belly button (no, really, it was). Post surgery complications (surgical site infection, pulmonary edema, hypoxia, low blood pressure, biliary dyskinesia) would land me back in the hospital. I would be told by two doctors that I had one last treatment to try and if that didn't work, I had three to six months to live and I needed to prepare myself for that because they were fairly certain this treatment would not work. Then the bastards starved me for a week. And then had the balls to say that I couldn't go home until I pooed. Me being me, Iyelled at them for being bush league, apathetic and flat out idiotic for thinking ice chips would make me shit informed them that it was impossible to summon up a bowel movement when all you have been eating for a week is ice chips. I had a lunch tray the next day. And a poo for the good doctors that night. The Beastie Boys were so right. You gotta fight. For your right. To paaaarty.
I am in remission now and have been since May 2009. I won't bore you with all the details (minimum four BM'S a day kids!) but I will tell you the really important things I have learned...
... having a disease can define you and shape your life. You just have to decide how much of the definition is you and how much is the disease.
... a terminal diagnosis can be overcome by sheer willpower and brutal stubbornness, all you have to do is make that first decision... will I live or will I die?
... being hospitalized for more than a few days will show you who your friends and supporters are; look who is sitting by your bed, reflect on who is absent. The person sitting by your bed loves you more.
... if you suffer from chronic pain, as I do, find a way to deal with it and stop complaining about it because its not going anywhere and neither are you if you bitch about it all the damn time. I have days when I can barely get out of bed to make the phone call to say I won't be in to work but instead of complaining about the pain I remember I'm still lucky enough to be alive and I am still lucky enough to feel pain.
... because pancreatitis was historically thought to be a disease afflicting chronic alcoholics, when I go to the hospital because I am having a pancreatic attack, most staff at these medical facilities will suspect I am a drunk who destroyed their pancreas and is now on the prowl looking for drugs.
... Mundare Sausage, while is tasty yummy good stuff, will put me in the hospital for two days after projectile vomiting all over That Aunt's clean bathroom, thus ruining Christmas dinner. Go on, trump that!
... in my world, the liver bone is connected to the pancreas bone is connected to the kidney bone and I gotta keep my bones healthy.
... if I ever need to get all hood like dat, I can lift my shirt, show off my scars, and claim I got shot, just like Fiddy.
So ya, that's why I'm little Miss Grumpy Pants. And it is not because I feel sorry for myself. It is because I am broken and it cannot be fixed, no matter what I do. And I get frustrated and stabby having the precious time I have left wasted by people who can't find their ass with both hands, even if they have a road map and a tour guide.
And a shopping cart. Those fuckers always come with a shopping cart.
On that note, I need to go have BM number 4. Some days, having pancreatitis is shitty.
This time of year is always tough for me. March 31 is approaching. July 09 is going to be worse. Prepare yourselves now.
Seven years ago, my world changed. Irreversibly. There is no way to fix what happened. There is no cure for what went wrong.
I had been in pain most of the day. I did all the things that usually made the pain go away. I would learn later that the things I did to end the pain were the equivalent of myth and it was merely coincidence that the pain ended when it did it.
That night it literally took all I had to crawl up 14 stairs from a basement and fling myself on a landing loud enough so someone would hear me. The pain was so bad, I could not speak. Yes, that's right, I could not speak. It took all I had to lay there and gasp for air. I felt like I was being stabbed. Not that I know what that feels like but the Drama Queen who dwells within has decided that is exactly what it would feel like.
I don't know how long it took the ambulance to get there but I do know it took three EMT's to pry me out of the fetal position. I remember being on a stretcher and hearing "Responds to stimuli, does not respond to commands." I had this moment of clarity at that point. Something inside me told me I was waaaay more than a wee bit fucked and all really was not well. I remember the needle. I remember the morphine hitting my blood stream and every part of me becoming very cold while my upper lip curled under. They had me on my back where the pain was and I couldn't get the words out to tell them. My mouth was dry and I had trouble seeing. Pain really can be blinding. I remember the disjointed screams; it sounded like me but it didn't feel like me. I remember the hot ambulance dood calling the hospital and asking if he could tranquilize me. Really really.
The next 20 hours were a blur. The stuff that was put in my I.V. before the CT scan made me feel like I had peed myself. The doc was sweet when he gave me the bad news and assured me that I had in fact not wet the bed but, on the ride back from the CT scan, I had vomited all over the halls of his nice, clean ER.
The rest is just a blur.
What I can tell you is this... for me, morphine is my go-to pain killer... what had previously been diagnosed as a "fussy" appendix would turn out to be gallstones that had pretty much turned my gall bladder into a big rock that was messing things up for my liver and pancreas... pancreatitis had developed because of the long term, untreated gall bladder disease... I would need to have surgery to remove the gall bladder... my pancreas was broken... no more alcohol, beef, pork, lamb, wild game, or fatty foods. I miss all of you.
The next few months after that were also life changing. Three and a half months later my gall bladder was removed through my belly button (no, really, it was). Post surgery complications (surgical site infection, pulmonary edema, hypoxia, low blood pressure, biliary dyskinesia) would land me back in the hospital. I would be told by two doctors that I had one last treatment to try and if that didn't work, I had three to six months to live and I needed to prepare myself for that because they were fairly certain this treatment would not work. Then the bastards starved me for a week. And then had the balls to say that I couldn't go home until I pooed. Me being me, I
I am in remission now and have been since May 2009. I won't bore you with all the details (minimum four BM'S a day kids!) but I will tell you the really important things I have learned...
... having a disease can define you and shape your life. You just have to decide how much of the definition is you and how much is the disease.
... a terminal diagnosis can be overcome by sheer willpower and brutal stubbornness, all you have to do is make that first decision... will I live or will I die?
... being hospitalized for more than a few days will show you who your friends and supporters are; look who is sitting by your bed, reflect on who is absent. The person sitting by your bed loves you more.
... if you suffer from chronic pain, as I do, find a way to deal with it and stop complaining about it because its not going anywhere and neither are you if you bitch about it all the damn time. I have days when I can barely get out of bed to make the phone call to say I won't be in to work but instead of complaining about the pain I remember I'm still lucky enough to be alive and I am still lucky enough to feel pain.
... because pancreatitis was historically thought to be a disease afflicting chronic alcoholics, when I go to the hospital because I am having a pancreatic attack, most staff at these medical facilities will suspect I am a drunk who destroyed their pancreas and is now on the prowl looking for drugs.
... Mundare Sausage, while is tasty yummy good stuff, will put me in the hospital for two days after projectile vomiting all over That Aunt's clean bathroom, thus ruining Christmas dinner. Go on, trump that!
... in my world, the liver bone is connected to the pancreas bone is connected to the kidney bone and I gotta keep my bones healthy.
... if I ever need to get all hood like dat, I can lift my shirt, show off my scars, and claim I got shot, just like Fiddy.
So ya, that's why I'm little Miss Grumpy Pants. And it is not because I feel sorry for myself. It is because I am broken and it cannot be fixed, no matter what I do. And I get frustrated and stabby having the precious time I have left wasted by people who can't find their ass with both hands, even if they have a road map and a tour guide.
And a shopping cart. Those fuckers always come with a shopping cart.
On that note, I need to go have BM number 4. Some days, having pancreatitis is shitty.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Blessed
When Buddha spoke of attachment, he wasn't saying that it's wrong to have loving feelings toward family and friends -- a common misinterpretation. Some newcomers to Buddhism have the mistaken idea that they're supposed to become "detached" -- distant and cut off from the world around them so that they can develop in splendid isolation. In fact, nothing could be further from Buddha's teachings... love and compassion, not detachment and distance, are the authentic Buddhist path. ~ David Michie (from "Buddhism for Busy People")
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Blessed
I love my past. I love my present. I'm not ashamed of what I've had, and I'm not sad because I have it no longer. ~ Colette
Friday, March 18, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Am Not Dead
I am pretty sure this trip to Mexico is going to kill me. Before I even get to the airport.
I have had a nervous breakdown in a Walmart dressing room over the size of my ass and how much cleavage is too much for a trip taken with colleagues from work.
I could not find a dress at Old Navy that didn't hang like a muu muu off me.
I thought my arm was going to fall off after the first Twinrix shot.
I am having a crisis over which bags to take and which to leave home. They all want to go to Mexico and I think only two or three will be making the journey.
I have been told so many diarrhea stories that I am already taking Imodium.
Travel Companion A turned out to be a total ass hat of a boyfriend. Travel Companion B said if I could not find someone of the male and available persuasion to go, she would. Travel Companion C was a douche bag about coughing up a copy of his passport, taking days off, and cost memy entire budget for resort wear hundreds of dollars because he did not answer an email. Travel Companion B then had a family crisis that involves funeral plans. Travel companion D is happier than a pig in shit to be going.
Travel Companion A, no I will not have hate sex with you and you can go hump an ant hill.
Travel Companion B, stay strong girl. Be brave. Chin high, shoulders back, heels in the best pair of stiletto's you have.
Travel Companion C, you are not the only ride in the amusement park. Your loss. Again.
Travel Companion D, let's rawk.
Ya, so there's that.
Now, if you know me, you know my skin is pale. The kind of pale that is only one shade darker than albino. And when one is off to Mexico but is currently residing in the North Pole, one must "pre-tan." Sounds simple enough, right? I have been tanning before, I own ceramic protective eye wear, and I know how to nude up in less than two minutes. Yes, this is important information for all of you who do not tan and keep in mind, I was naked for what I am about to describe to you. OK, just the tanning bed part. Things can get pretty sexy at The Office, but we keep it G-rated. Who am I kidding, it is all NC-17 in that place.
The lovely Della, Queen of the Countdown to Mexico, and I have been tanning buddies for a couple of weeks now. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I have a date with Della at 12:30 to go get microwaved. Last Friday was particularly stressful as I had to empty my savings account onto my credit card to pay for Travel Companion C's cluster fuck bullshit game playing (ya, I said it and I meant it). It was exacerbated by Judy The Travel Agent when she called to say the credit card number I had given her was invalid. Big sighs of relief when it was discovered she had transposed the last two numbers. BIG SIGHS. I have never been so close to needing to jump half the people I work with for their antidepressants.
The lunch date tanning session was supposed to relieve all these frustrations. On a regular day it would. Not on this day and not in tanning room three. I did the typical flight of the bumble bee to nude up, goggle up, and jump in the bed. As I lay there na-na'ing with Rhianna, I heard some creaking from above me. I was mindful of it but did not pay much attention as I was more concerned with finding the optimum tanning position and Drake's "uuuuuuhh".
I should have paid attention.
At about the seven minute mark, the Plexiglas from the top side of the tanning bed came crashing down on me. Yes, it was no longer part of the tanning bed and I was nakedly sandwiched between it and the rest of the bed,having a near death experience and totally freaking out leaving me to quickly ponder my future. Why? There are speakers attached to that tanning bed. Speakers that have electricity flowing through them and they are about to kill me.
I cannot remember all of what went through my mind at that moment but it was all prefaced with "I am naked, I am not a size two, I cannot scream for help. I am uber fucked." I managed to slide and then push and fall my way out from under the Plexiglas and onto the floor of the tanning room. By this time, I was nakedly crawling about the room with my eyes squished shut (protective eye wear seems to be the first thing to fail you in a tanning crisis), feeling my way around to the stop button, not so conveniently located in the back of the bed. When I opened my eyes, I was relieved to find that the speakers on the Plexiglas are actually just covers and the speakers are actually hard wired into the top of the bed.
Big sighs.
Am not dead.
Am naked on my hands and knees, with my ass up in the are like I am worshipping some tanning god.
Are we there yet?
PS:
To the The Office Goddess... thank you for being you. Thank you for having shoulders to cry on, hugs that make the pain go away, and boobies to rub up against.
I have had a nervous breakdown in a Walmart dressing room over the size of my ass and how much cleavage is too much for a trip taken with colleagues from work.
I could not find a dress at Old Navy that didn't hang like a muu muu off me.
I thought my arm was going to fall off after the first Twinrix shot.
I am having a crisis over which bags to take and which to leave home. They all want to go to Mexico and I think only two or three will be making the journey.
I have been told so many diarrhea stories that I am already taking Imodium.
Travel Companion A turned out to be a total ass hat of a boyfriend. Travel Companion B said if I could not find someone of the male and available persuasion to go, she would. Travel Companion C was a douche bag about coughing up a copy of his passport, taking days off, and cost me
Travel Companion A, no I will not have hate sex with you and you can go hump an ant hill.
Travel Companion B, stay strong girl. Be brave. Chin high, shoulders back, heels in the best pair of stiletto's you have.
Travel Companion C, you are not the only ride in the amusement park. Your loss. Again.
Travel Companion D, let's rawk.
Ya, so there's that.
Now, if you know me, you know my skin is pale. The kind of pale that is only one shade darker than albino. And when one is off to Mexico but is currently residing in the North Pole, one must "pre-tan." Sounds simple enough, right? I have been tanning before, I own ceramic protective eye wear, and I know how to nude up in less than two minutes. Yes, this is important information for all of you who do not tan and keep in mind, I was naked for what I am about to describe to you. OK, just the tanning bed part. Things can get pretty sexy at The Office, but we keep it G-rated. Who am I kidding, it is all NC-17 in that place.
The lovely Della, Queen of the Countdown to Mexico, and I have been tanning buddies for a couple of weeks now. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I have a date with Della at 12:30 to go get microwaved. Last Friday was particularly stressful as I had to empty my savings account onto my credit card to pay for Travel Companion C's cluster fuck bullshit game playing (ya, I said it and I meant it). It was exacerbated by Judy The Travel Agent when she called to say the credit card number I had given her was invalid. Big sighs of relief when it was discovered she had transposed the last two numbers. BIG SIGHS. I have never been so close to needing to jump half the people I work with for their antidepressants.
The lunch date tanning session was supposed to relieve all these frustrations. On a regular day it would. Not on this day and not in tanning room three. I did the typical flight of the bumble bee to nude up, goggle up, and jump in the bed. As I lay there na-na'ing with Rhianna, I heard some creaking from above me. I was mindful of it but did not pay much attention as I was more concerned with finding the optimum tanning position and Drake's "uuuuuuhh".
I should have paid attention.
At about the seven minute mark, the Plexiglas from the top side of the tanning bed came crashing down on me. Yes, it was no longer part of the tanning bed and I was nakedly sandwiched between it and the rest of the bed,
I cannot remember all of what went through my mind at that moment but it was all prefaced with "I am naked, I am not a size two, I cannot scream for help. I am uber fucked." I managed to slide and then push and fall my way out from under the Plexiglas and onto the floor of the tanning room. By this time, I was nakedly crawling about the room with my eyes squished shut (protective eye wear seems to be the first thing to fail you in a tanning crisis), feeling my way around to the stop button, not so conveniently located in the back of the bed. When I opened my eyes, I was relieved to find that the speakers on the Plexiglas are actually just covers and the speakers are actually hard wired into the top of the bed.
Big sighs.
Am not dead.
Am naked on my hands and knees, with my ass up in the are like I am worshipping some tanning god.
Are we there yet?
PS:
To the The Office Goddess... thank you for being you. Thank you for having shoulders to cry on, hugs that make the pain go away, and boobies to rub up against.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Random Sauce, Part Nine
No one can force you to drink a keg of beer for dinner.
~~~~~
My bangs are not the only thing that is ruining my life.
~~~~~
He wants me to have hate sex with him. But I don't hate him.
~~~~~
She tells me that worse things have happened. Yes, they have. But why is this thing happening?
~~~~~
While it may not be for me to understand and it may just be something I have to do, I would like it to make a bit of sense while I'm doing it.
~~~~~
Fermer la douche.
~~~~~
~~~~~
My bangs are not the only thing that is ruining my life.
~~~~~
He wants me to have hate sex with him. But I don't hate him.
~~~~~
She tells me that worse things have happened. Yes, they have. But why is this thing happening?
~~~~~
While it may not be for me to understand and it may just be something I have to do, I would like it to make a bit of sense while I'm doing it.
~~~~~
Fermer la douche.
~~~~~
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Blessed
Better the hard truth, I say, than the comforting fantasy. And in the final tolling it often turns out that the facts are more comforting than the fantasy. ~ Carl Sagan
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Blessed
Every atom in your body came from a star that exploded. And the atoms in your left hand probably came from a different star than your right hand. It really is the most poetic thing I know about physics: You are all stardust. ~ Lawrence Krauss
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
I'm On The Right Track Baby
Oh Gags... what we gonna do about you?
I do love you. You manage to stay relevant even if your music isn't so much revolutionary as it a version 2.0 of Madonna and Cyndi Lauper. You bring two of my favourite things together: chair dancing and sociology.
The meat dress. Was it really a statement or did you do it just because you could get away with it? Sometimes I wonder if that is your gig; let's see how much bollox you can thrust upon the world and how much of it the world will consume. If I were in your position, I would push that shit as far as I could, just to see how far consumers will let a celebutante go. I wonder if they know you are laughing on the inside.
I watched you awkwardly climb out of a fiberglass egg people are saying you lived for three days. I call bullshit but the minivan majority gobbled it up. Or the monsters. Whichever. Well done Mi'Lady.
I held back the laughter when you accepted some award on some award show and said "Born This Way" was inspired by Whitney Houston. You had people believing the fake tears, the fake accent, the fake shoulder protrusions. Quick somebody get the whiskey and the tea cup.
The new video is going to piss off a lot of people. But you like it like that, don't you? I'm totally up in the pink hair and I think you need to whip it harder. Not sure about the underwear parts. Haven't you already done that? Bit old, non?
The schtick is bigger than the music. And I kinda dig that.
Maybe we shouldn't do anything and just see how far this thing will go.
PS: Are you birthing that gun or riding it?
I do love you. You manage to stay relevant even if your music isn't so much revolutionary as it a version 2.0 of Madonna and Cyndi Lauper. You bring two of my favourite things together: chair dancing and sociology.
The meat dress. Was it really a statement or did you do it just because you could get away with it? Sometimes I wonder if that is your gig; let's see how much bollox you can thrust upon the world and how much of it the world will consume. If I were in your position, I would push that shit as far as I could, just to see how far consumers will let a celebutante go. I wonder if they know you are laughing on the inside.
I watched you awkwardly climb out of a fiberglass egg people are saying you lived for three days. I call bullshit but the minivan majority gobbled it up. Or the monsters. Whichever. Well done Mi'Lady.
I held back the laughter when you accepted some award on some award show and said "Born This Way" was inspired by Whitney Houston. You had people believing the fake tears, the fake accent, the fake shoulder protrusions. Quick somebody get the whiskey and the tea cup.
The new video is going to piss off a lot of people. But you like it like that, don't you? I'm totally up in the pink hair and I think you need to whip it harder. Not sure about the underwear parts. Haven't you already done that? Bit old, non?
The schtick is bigger than the music. And I kinda dig that.
Maybe we shouldn't do anything and just see how far this thing will go.
PS: Are you birthing that gun or riding it?
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Thy Will Be Done
I do not pretend to understand the universe; it will always have its secrets and I will not always be privy to it's inner workings.
Yes, yes, this is me admitting I do not know everything. Truth is, I know very little.
What I do know is this...
The universe unfolds as it should and neither you nor I can or should try to control that. Call it destiny, call it fate, call it the path you are on, call it whatever you want, it is all happening as it should. If you cannot find you way or you lose your way, the mere act of handing yourself over to the universe will grant you resolve. But beware. The universe does not always give you what you want but it will give you what you need. Do not be greedy. Accept what comes and understand that the universe is serving your best interests.
Don't believe me? Think this is just more of my zen floating Buddha talk? Chew on this: three nights ago I found myself at a crossroads with no answers to the questions I was asking myself, literally exasperated with where I was at. I handed it all over to the universe and simply said, "Thy will be done."
It was done.
Welcome back Captain Celery. I have missed you. I have always loved you.
I have also asked the universe to arrange it so that you will never show up anywhere I am dressed in a Borat mankini. I don't care how sexy your furry nipples are!
Yes, yes, this is me admitting I do not know everything. Truth is, I know very little.
What I do know is this...
The universe unfolds as it should and neither you nor I can or should try to control that. Call it destiny, call it fate, call it the path you are on, call it whatever you want, it is all happening as it should. If you cannot find you way or you lose your way, the mere act of handing yourself over to the universe will grant you resolve. But beware. The universe does not always give you what you want but it will give you what you need. Do not be greedy. Accept what comes and understand that the universe is serving your best interests.
Don't believe me? Think this is just more of my zen floating Buddha talk? Chew on this: three nights ago I found myself at a crossroads with no answers to the questions I was asking myself, literally exasperated with where I was at. I handed it all over to the universe and simply said, "Thy will be done."
It was done.
Welcome back Captain Celery. I have missed you. I have always loved you.
I have also asked the universe to arrange it so that you will never show up anywhere I am dressed in a Borat mankini. I don't care how sexy your furry nipples are!
Monday, February 28, 2011
The Weekly Whaaaaa
(Originally posted on my old blog "The Domestication of a Punk Rock Foodie" on May 15, 2010. )
Escher, Relativity. The more you look the weirder it gets.
You're welcome.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Blessed
For never in this world
Do hatreds cease by hatred.
By freedom from hatred they cease:
This is the eternal dhamma.
~Dhammapada 5
Do hatreds cease by hatred.
By freedom from hatred they cease:
This is the eternal dhamma.
~Dhammapada 5
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Random Sauce, Part Eight
I'm just going to come out and say it.
I do not support the war effort or Canada's participation in that mess in the Middle East. I do not recognize Queen Elizabeth as a queen, much less the queen of Canada. I would never take an oath where I had to swear on a Bible that I would protect and defend her either. I think it is time we removed Lizzie's face from our currency and stopped singing "God Save The Queen."
I'm pretty sure that all of this is going to get me kicked out of Canada, even though I bleed maple leafs.
Whatever. Prince William needs hair plugs and Kate Middleton looks like she's been rode hard and put away wet. Even the monarchy are not immune to human trappings like male pattern baldness and emaciation and fatigue resulting from blind ambition.
So there's that.
What I do support are the troops, the military personnel who took an oath to protect Canada and all that this country is and stands for.
Bless you for not being as selfish as I am.
I do not support the war effort or Canada's participation in that mess in the Middle East. I do not recognize Queen Elizabeth as a queen, much less the queen of Canada. I would never take an oath where I had to swear on a Bible that I would protect and defend her either. I think it is time we removed Lizzie's face from our currency and stopped singing "God Save The Queen."
I'm pretty sure that all of this is going to get me kicked out of Canada, even though I bleed maple leafs.
Whatever. Prince William needs hair plugs and Kate Middleton looks like she's been rode hard and put away wet. Even the monarchy are not immune to human trappings like male pattern baldness and emaciation and fatigue resulting from blind ambition.
So there's that.
What I do support are the troops, the military personnel who took an oath to protect Canada and all that this country is and stands for.
Bless you for not being as selfish as I am.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Hard To Kill Plants
I love plants. Indoors, outdoors, wherever they may be. I, however, am not a botanist or a very good gardener so I have resigned myself to owning/growing plants that can handle a bit of abuse and neglect. I can kill an African violet or a cyclamen in less than a week.
I am still amazed the big spider ivy monster at work is still alive. This thing appeared literally overnight about three years ago and I have not managed to kill it yet.
I've owned all the plants listed below at one point or another. If they can survive me, they will survive you.
LUCKY BAMBOO
I am currently murdering my lucky bamboo. I know, there is going to be karma to burn off. However, if you consider that its not really bamboo but a rain forest shrub indigenous to Cameroon, I should get karma points back, non? Mine was sold to me rooted in pebbles and full of water. You can plant these in soil but I am too afraid if I do that, the luck will be gone. If you chose to leave this plant in pebbles and water, the water should be changed about every two weeks. I am a dare devil and have not fully changed the water. Ever. But I do use standing water to water LB because LB doesn't like chlorine and if you let water stand for about 24 hours, the chlorine evaporates. LB likes filtered bright light and warm temperatures which is why he currently resides in my bathroom.
ARROWHEAD PLANT
The arrowhead plant is also called the American Evergreen. As it matures, it will start to vine so its best to plant it in a hanger or on a stand that you can train the vine to grow around. The arrowhead plant likes indirect sunlight and fairly humid conditions. This plant thrives in the bathroom but remember to water it often.
CAST IRON PLANT
This plant will tolerate a little neglect. Or a lot. The cast iron plant likes low light (keep out of sunlight or the leaves will become a bleached out yellow colour) and will tolerate irregular watering. That being said, with this plant, root rot is a concern so plant over some pebbles in a pot with a good drainage system.
CHINESE EVERGREEN
Like the cast iron plant, the Chinese evergreen will tolerate low light and a bit of neglect. The Chinese evergreen thrives in partial shade and moist soil but they hate hate hate the cold. Keep this plant away from drafts or open windows; once damage is done to it, it is irreversible. If you are uber lucky, your's will flower in the spring or summer. I have not had this kind of luck but have seen the Chinese evergreens in the planters at the mall bloom.
MOTHER IN LAW'S TONGUE
This plant is also known as the Snake Plant. It prefers low light and will rot if over watered. Seriously. During the winter, you water it once a month as it prefers very very dry soil. What I love most about this plant is that it absorbs nasty stuff in the air like nitrogen oxides and formaldehyde.
PEACE LILY
Like the mother in law's tongue plant, the peace lily cleans not only formaldehyde but benzene out of the air. This plant needs very little sunlight and will thrive if you water it just once a week. And the blooms can be damn sexy.
WANDERING JEW
The wandering Jew plant is lovely for a lot of reasons; it is easy to propagate and you can grow it to be different shades. The more sunlight this plant gets, the more intense the purple will be. This plant will tolerate low light but the purple will fade, leaving you with the white and green variegation only. Generally you can water this plant just once a week but check it a few times a week as it is prone to bugs and aphids. This plant grows like a weed and can get viney; this is when you give clippings to your friends and family or propagate them and replant in the bald spots in your planter.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Huuuuurrrryyyyyy Haaaaaarrrrrrdddd
(Originally posted on my old blog "The Domestication of a Punk Rock Foodie" on February 27, 2010.)
No, I'm not talking all sexy and stuff. I'm talking curling. I'm talking about Kevin Martin and the boys going undefeated to win a gold medal at the Olympics. Now that's hardcore.
MAKE
Menu (these recipes each serve four):
Herbed Bread Sticks
Chicken Tikka Masala With Jasmine Rice
Cosmopolitan Ice Cups
HERBED BREAD STICKS
I used a prepared pizza crust here because I suck at making pizza crusts… they always look like crackers or soufflés when I’m done. Also, this can be served as a roll instead of a stick.
1 tsp. extra virgin olive oil
2 tsp. dried oregano
1 tbsp. dried basil
½ tsp. fennel seeds
¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes
½ tsp. rock salt
1 tin prepared pizza crust
-preheat oven to temperature listed on pizza crust tin
-lightly oil a baking sheet
-combine oregano, basil, fennel seeds, red pepper flakes, and salt in a bowl and then divide in half
-sprinkle half of the spice mixture evenly on the lightly oiled baking sheet
-roll out the pizza crust and then transfer to the baking sheet; press the crust down in order to have the crust pick up the herbs on the baking sheet
-roll up the pizza crust and cut in halves until you have 16 pieces (8 pieces if you are making rolls)
-roll these pieces out into bread stick shape with a ½ diameter (if you are making rolls, form the dough into pieces about the size of erasers); do not overwork the dough or it will be tough when finished cooking
-arrange on the baking sheet, about 1 inch apart
-cook on one side for about 5 and then turn and continue to cook for another 3 – 5 minutes, depending on how brown you want them to be coloured
CHICKEN TIKKA MASALA WITH JASMINE RICE
While I don’t generally use bottled sauces, using a bottle sauce for this recipe reduces the preparation time and uses fewer ingredients.
4 tsp. extra virgin olive oil
½ onion, finely chopped
1 tbsp. ginger, finely chopped
1tbsp. garlic, finely chopped
2 lbs. chicken breasts, boneless, skinless, cut into 1 inch pieces
¼ tsp. salt
1 can tomato paste
1 tsp. red curry paste
1 can tomatoes, crushed, with juice
1 c. Tikka Masala cooking sauce
½ c. plain yogurt
½ c. water
4 c. cooked jasmine rice (cook according to manufacturer’s directions)
-in a large saucepan, heat olive oil
-add onion, ginger, and garlic and cook on medium heat, stirring for about 3 minutes; sprinkle the salt over the mixture so it will sweat rather than brown and burn
-add chicken to the pan and cook on medium high heat, stirring constantly for about 5-7 minutes -stir in tomato paste, red curry paste, crushed tomatoes, and tikka masala sauce and cook for about 3 minutes, stirring occasionally
-add yogurt and water reduce heat to low, and simmer until the chicken is done, about 10-12 minutes, stirring occasionally
-serve hot over rice
COSMOPOLITAN ICE CUPS
1 pkg. strawberry jelly powder
1c. boiling water
1 c. orange sorbet or sherbet
4 strawberries
Whipping cream (optional)
-stir in the sorbet until it is completely melted
-pour 4 martini or wine glasses (about 10 oz. per glass)
-refrigerate for about 2 hours or until firm
-top each with sliced strawberry and a dollop of whipping cream, if desired
THINK
Don't yield to the temptation of believing that the world can be fixed. Above all, don't yield to the hubris that you can fix it. Realize that your actions can, at best, make some conditions in the world a little more bearable, make suffering a little less painful. But just because this is all you can do, does not mean that you should not do it... do it in the face of all hopelessness. And why? Because to help, to be compassionate, is your highest calling... if you can't do this, if you won't do this, then you are hopeless. -- Dr. Stephan Hoeller
LISTEN
Jay Z Featuring Swizz Beatz - On To The Next One
Pink - Glitter In The Air
Sham 69 - If The Kids Are United
READ
So I haven't been able to keep up with my scheduled book a week pace. Mostly because Cosmic Jackpot required a lot of re-reading and going back to review (I'm not a physics geek but I'm a geek for the cosmos). I've put that aside and started Don Miguel Ruiz's Four Agreements: A Practical Guide To Personal Freedom
WATCH
In June 2008, J. K. Rowling gave the speech "The Fringe Benefits Of Failure And The Importance Of Imagination". You can find it here. Even if you aren't a Harry Potter fan, its worth a listen. The speech is transcribed below the video.
VISIT
Architecture and photography are two of my favorite things. Check out the The Kings Of Architectural Photography page here.
GO GREEN
To remove coffee and mineral stains from the pot on your coffee maker, add 3 cups ice cubes or crushed ice 1/3 cup water, and 1/2 cup salt to the pot. Swirl the pot for about 2 minutes, rinse, and then wash. To remove coffee or tea stains from a coffee mug, rub the stained areas with salt and then rinse with water. Repeat until stains are gone. Wash mug before using again.
No, I'm not talking all sexy and stuff. I'm talking curling. I'm talking about Kevin Martin and the boys going undefeated to win a gold medal at the Olympics. Now that's hardcore.
MAKE
Menu (these recipes each serve four):
Herbed Bread Sticks
Chicken Tikka Masala With Jasmine Rice
Cosmopolitan Ice Cups
HERBED BREAD STICKS
I used a prepared pizza crust here because I suck at making pizza crusts… they always look like crackers or soufflés when I’m done. Also, this can be served as a roll instead of a stick.
1 tsp. extra virgin olive oil
2 tsp. dried oregano
1 tbsp. dried basil
½ tsp. fennel seeds
¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes
½ tsp. rock salt
1 tin prepared pizza crust
-preheat oven to temperature listed on pizza crust tin
-lightly oil a baking sheet
-combine oregano, basil, fennel seeds, red pepper flakes, and salt in a bowl and then divide in half
-sprinkle half of the spice mixture evenly on the lightly oiled baking sheet
-roll out the pizza crust and then transfer to the baking sheet; press the crust down in order to have the crust pick up the herbs on the baking sheet
-roll up the pizza crust and cut in halves until you have 16 pieces (8 pieces if you are making rolls)
-roll these pieces out into bread stick shape with a ½ diameter (if you are making rolls, form the dough into pieces about the size of erasers); do not overwork the dough or it will be tough when finished cooking
-arrange on the baking sheet, about 1 inch apart
-cook on one side for about 5 and then turn and continue to cook for another 3 – 5 minutes, depending on how brown you want them to be coloured
CHICKEN TIKKA MASALA WITH JASMINE RICE
While I don’t generally use bottled sauces, using a bottle sauce for this recipe reduces the preparation time and uses fewer ingredients.
4 tsp. extra virgin olive oil
½ onion, finely chopped
1 tbsp. ginger, finely chopped
1tbsp. garlic, finely chopped
2 lbs. chicken breasts, boneless, skinless, cut into 1 inch pieces
¼ tsp. salt
1 can tomato paste
1 tsp. red curry paste
1 can tomatoes, crushed, with juice
1 c. Tikka Masala cooking sauce
½ c. plain yogurt
½ c. water
4 c. cooked jasmine rice (cook according to manufacturer’s directions)
-in a large saucepan, heat olive oil
-add onion, ginger, and garlic and cook on medium heat, stirring for about 3 minutes; sprinkle the salt over the mixture so it will sweat rather than brown and burn
-add chicken to the pan and cook on medium high heat, stirring constantly for about 5-7 minutes -stir in tomato paste, red curry paste, crushed tomatoes, and tikka masala sauce and cook for about 3 minutes, stirring occasionally
-add yogurt and water reduce heat to low, and simmer until the chicken is done, about 10-12 minutes, stirring occasionally
-serve hot over rice
COSMOPOLITAN ICE CUPS
1 pkg. strawberry jelly powder
1c. boiling water
1 c. orange sorbet or sherbet
4 strawberries
Whipping cream (optional)
-stir in the sorbet until it is completely melted
-pour 4 martini or wine glasses (about 10 oz. per glass)
-refrigerate for about 2 hours or until firm
-top each with sliced strawberry and a dollop of whipping cream, if desired
THINK
Don't yield to the temptation of believing that the world can be fixed. Above all, don't yield to the hubris that you can fix it. Realize that your actions can, at best, make some conditions in the world a little more bearable, make suffering a little less painful. But just because this is all you can do, does not mean that you should not do it... do it in the face of all hopelessness. And why? Because to help, to be compassionate, is your highest calling... if you can't do this, if you won't do this, then you are hopeless. -- Dr. Stephan Hoeller
LISTEN
Jay Z Featuring Swizz Beatz - On To The Next One
Pink - Glitter In The Air
Sham 69 - If The Kids Are United
READ
So I haven't been able to keep up with my scheduled book a week pace. Mostly because Cosmic Jackpot required a lot of re-reading and going back to review (I'm not a physics geek but I'm a geek for the cosmos). I've put that aside and started Don Miguel Ruiz's Four Agreements: A Practical Guide To Personal Freedom
WATCH
In June 2008, J. K. Rowling gave the speech "The Fringe Benefits Of Failure And The Importance Of Imagination". You can find it here. Even if you aren't a Harry Potter fan, its worth a listen. The speech is transcribed below the video.
VISIT
Architecture and photography are two of my favorite things. Check out the The Kings Of Architectural Photography page here.
GO GREEN
To remove coffee and mineral stains from the pot on your coffee maker, add 3 cups ice cubes or crushed ice 1/3 cup water, and 1/2 cup salt to the pot. Swirl the pot for about 2 minutes, rinse, and then wash. To remove coffee or tea stains from a coffee mug, rub the stained areas with salt and then rinse with water. Repeat until stains are gone. Wash mug before using again.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Blessed
The miracle is not to walk on water. The miracle is to walk on the green earth, dwelling deeply in the present moment and feeling truly alive. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Our First Time
There was the anxiety a few days before.
There was the epic hair removal session the night before. Smooth from the eyelashes down.
This was going to be our first time doing this sort of thing and a girl needs to be prepared.
He was late. My guts were churning. I sat with my eyes closed, meditating, breathing deeply, hoping this was going to go well.
We have not known each other long and I knew it was going to be awkward.
This was our first time and all I wanted to do was vomit. This did not bode well for me.
He finally arrived. Told me to remove my "bottoms." I also removed my top. That is how I have always done it. He turned around. He was mortified. This was not going well.
It got even more awkward when my cervix went AWOL.
It wasn't all bad. We laughed, we talked about pedicures and Brazilians, he finally found my missing cervix, and when he was done, my boobies did not feel like they had been pushed into my spine through my armpits after they have been taken out into the hall and walked around the clinic.
And that is how my first physical with my new G. P. went.
Remember ladies, take care of your lady bits... regular physical exams, self breast exams, AND the dreaded pap smear are all a part of good health management. Precaution, prevention, and early detection saves lives.
Go here for some added inspiration. And boob lube.
There was the epic hair removal session the night before. Smooth from the eyelashes down.
This was going to be our first time doing this sort of thing and a girl needs to be prepared.
He was late. My guts were churning. I sat with my eyes closed, meditating, breathing deeply, hoping this was going to go well.
We have not known each other long and I knew it was going to be awkward.
This was our first time and all I wanted to do was vomit. This did not bode well for me.
He finally arrived. Told me to remove my "bottoms." I also removed my top. That is how I have always done it. He turned around. He was mortified. This was not going well.
It got even more awkward when my cervix went AWOL.
It wasn't all bad. We laughed, we talked about pedicures and Brazilians, he finally found my missing cervix, and when he was done, my boobies did not feel like they had been pushed into my spine through my armpits after they have been taken out into the hall and walked around the clinic.
And that is how my first physical with my new G. P. went.
Remember ladies, take care of your lady bits... regular physical exams, self breast exams, AND the dreaded pap smear are all a part of good health management. Precaution, prevention, and early detection saves lives.
Go here for some added inspiration. And boob lube.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Magha Puja
From buddhanet buddhanet:
"Magha Puja Day (Fourfold Assembly or "Sangha Day"): Magha Puja Day takes places on the full moon day of the third lunar month (March). This holy day is observed to commemorate an important event in the life of the Buddha. This event occurred early in the Buddha's teaching life.
After the first Rains Retreat (Vassa) at the Deer Park at Sarnath, the Buddha went to Rajagaha city where 1250 Arahats,(Enlightened saints) who were the Buddha's disciples, without prior appointment, returned from their wanderings to pay respect to the Buddha. They assembled in the Veruvana Monastery with the two chief disciples of the Buddha, Ven. Sariputta and Ven. Moggalana.
The assembly is called the Fourfold Assembly because it consisted of four factors: (1) All 1250 were Arahats; (2) All of them were ordained by the Buddha himself; (3) They assembled by themselves without any prior call; (4) It was the full moon day of Magha month (March)."
If you happen to be in Thailand at Wat Phra Dhammakaya, here is some of what you can expect to see at the Light of Peace Ceremony:
"Magha Puja Day (Fourfold Assembly or "Sangha Day"): Magha Puja Day takes places on the full moon day of the third lunar month (March). This holy day is observed to commemorate an important event in the life of the Buddha. This event occurred early in the Buddha's teaching life.
After the first Rains Retreat (Vassa) at the Deer Park at Sarnath, the Buddha went to Rajagaha city where 1250 Arahats,(Enlightened saints) who were the Buddha's disciples, without prior appointment, returned from their wanderings to pay respect to the Buddha. They assembled in the Veruvana Monastery with the two chief disciples of the Buddha, Ven. Sariputta and Ven. Moggalana.
The assembly is called the Fourfold Assembly because it consisted of four factors: (1) All 1250 were Arahats; (2) All of them were ordained by the Buddha himself; (3) They assembled by themselves without any prior call; (4) It was the full moon day of Magha month (March)."
If you happen to be in Thailand at Wat Phra Dhammakaya, here is some of what you can expect to see at the Light of Peace Ceremony:
Remember, each light is one person.
Ahmayzing.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Duck A La My Back Yard
(Originally posted on my old blog "The Domestication of a Punk Rock Foodie" on April 29, 2010.)
Look who came for dinner.
It amazes me how I can live in a city of about a million people and yet there is this abundance of wildlife in my back yard. At first it was only the birds. Then the squirrels and the bunnies showed up and the birds had to share the bird feeder. Now we have ducks. I had heard these two had been around the neighbourhood for about a week and tonight after I came home from the gym, this is what greeted me in the back yard.
Sigh.
Some days are fanflippingtastic.
Look who came for dinner.
It amazes me how I can live in a city of about a million people and yet there is this abundance of wildlife in my back yard. At first it was only the birds. Then the squirrels and the bunnies showed up and the birds had to share the bird feeder. Now we have ducks. I had heard these two had been around the neighbourhood for about a week and tonight after I came home from the gym, this is what greeted me in the back yard.
Sigh.
Some days are fanflippingtastic.
 |
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
So I'm Really Doing This Thing
My passport came today.
Actually, it came yesterday but no one was around to sign for it so it got sent to the local post office that is renowned for being complete fascists when it comes to releasing registered mail and packages. It is so bad, I have my online purchases sent to The Office because once it is in the firm clutches of those crazy ladies at the post office, you have to produce DNA and character references to get it back.
I was shaking so bad when I signed for it. Of course, I had to sign one of those electronic pads that morphs your signature into hieroglyphics. I hesitated. Totally expected crazy lady to take the package back and tell me "No Mexico for you!"
Once I had liberated my mail from Canada Post, I stood at the counter at the post office and tore the package open. Even though I went over my passport application a bazillion times and had others check it for completeness, I was certain it would get sent back and I would be told by some faceless government mucky muck that I suck at filling out applications and to try again.
I opened the package slowly. Ohmigawd its not in here. Ohmigawd. Ohmiwait... that looks like the pages of a passport. Ohmigawd. It is here. Ohmigawd keep your shit together girl and get outta here.
I buried my head into my chest and bolted out of there, stopping briefly at the ice cream cooler (there was a ledge there for me to put my bag on... I wasn't even thinking of the Haagen Dazs) to check and see if the government sent back my I.D. I had to very reluctantly sent to them because if they had not sent it back, some poor bastard on some customer service email account was going to get a snot-a-gram, the likes of which have never been read or felt. O.C.D. makes you twitchy sometimes. This was a sometimes.
The I.D. was there. And the passport was still there too. Keys and phone in the right pockets? Yes. Good, we can go now. Effing O.C.D. kicks my ass all the time when it comes to things like this.
At home. Sofa. Dump work bag out looking for package with passport in it. Inwardly remark that my passport photo looks like a proper mug shot of a lesbian with bad hair and how nobody is going to let me in their country when they compare that with the live and in person me.
Then it hit me. I can go anywhere. That thought alone made me weepy. It was bittersweet. All that time all those years ago Captain Celery told me I needed a passport, that it immediately opened the world up... I get it now. You were right and I understand it now. Sorry I doubted you.
Little secret, just between you and I. I am a kid from the ghetto who only ever dreamed of going to other parts in the world. When I was growing up, we were lucky enough to be able to afford the gas for the thirteen hour drive to my grandparents' place every summer. I travelled a bit in Canada as an adult but never needed a passport. Never thought I would. Machu Pichu, India, Nepal, Tibet, Italy, Greece, NYC, Scotland, Ireland, and the Louvre in Paris had always been places I read about but had always seemed so far out of my reach.
Now I can go there.
Bittersweet.
Oh you may think I'm a fool for saying it out loud and that is okay. You may have held a passport for years and think I'm just being a ridiculous, sentimental fool. Perhaps I am. But think of what that little twenty four page book does for you, especially if you are Canadian.
You can go anywhere.
I can go anywhere.
All those places that I have read about and have dreamt about suddenly got a whole lot closer.
Actually, it came yesterday but no one was around to sign for it so it got sent to the local post office that is renowned for being complete fascists when it comes to releasing registered mail and packages. It is so bad, I have my online purchases sent to The Office because once it is in the firm clutches of those crazy ladies at the post office, you have to produce DNA and character references to get it back.
I was shaking so bad when I signed for it. Of course, I had to sign one of those electronic pads that morphs your signature into hieroglyphics. I hesitated. Totally expected crazy lady to take the package back and tell me "No Mexico for you!"
Once I had liberated my mail from Canada Post, I stood at the counter at the post office and tore the package open. Even though I went over my passport application a bazillion times and had others check it for completeness, I was certain it would get sent back and I would be told by some faceless government mucky muck that I suck at filling out applications and to try again.
I opened the package slowly. Ohmigawd its not in here. Ohmigawd. Ohmiwait... that looks like the pages of a passport. Ohmigawd. It is here. Ohmigawd keep your shit together girl and get outta here.
I buried my head into my chest and bolted out of there, stopping briefly at the ice cream cooler (there was a ledge there for me to put my bag on... I wasn't even thinking of the Haagen Dazs) to check and see if the government sent back my I.D. I had to very reluctantly sent to them because if they had not sent it back, some poor bastard on some customer service email account was going to get a snot-a-gram, the likes of which have never been read or felt. O.C.D. makes you twitchy sometimes. This was a sometimes.
The I.D. was there. And the passport was still there too. Keys and phone in the right pockets? Yes. Good, we can go now. Effing O.C.D. kicks my ass all the time when it comes to things like this.
At home. Sofa. Dump work bag out looking for package with passport in it. Inwardly remark that my passport photo looks like a proper mug shot of a lesbian with bad hair and how nobody is going to let me in their country when they compare that with the live and in person me.
Then it hit me. I can go anywhere. That thought alone made me weepy. It was bittersweet. All that time all those years ago Captain Celery told me I needed a passport, that it immediately opened the world up... I get it now. You were right and I understand it now. Sorry I doubted you.
Little secret, just between you and I. I am a kid from the ghetto who only ever dreamed of going to other parts in the world. When I was growing up, we were lucky enough to be able to afford the gas for the thirteen hour drive to my grandparents' place every summer. I travelled a bit in Canada as an adult but never needed a passport. Never thought I would. Machu Pichu, India, Nepal, Tibet, Italy, Greece, NYC, Scotland, Ireland, and the Louvre in Paris had always been places I read about but had always seemed so far out of my reach.
Now I can go there.
Bittersweet.
Oh you may think I'm a fool for saying it out loud and that is okay. You may have held a passport for years and think I'm just being a ridiculous, sentimental fool. Perhaps I am. But think of what that little twenty four page book does for you, especially if you are Canadian.
You can go anywhere.
I can go anywhere.
All those places that I have read about and have dreamt about suddenly got a whole lot closer.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Blessed
It's only when you have mastered the art of loving yourself that you can truly love others. It's only when you have opened your own heart that you can touch the hearts of others. When you feel centered and alive, you are in a much better position to be a better person. ~ Robin Sharma
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Random Sauce, Part Seven
You can't stop fabulous.
~~~~~
The odds of you having a good day are pretty low when you fax yourself a credit hold notice.~~~~~
The sound of cheques being printed lulls me.~~~~~
Stress? What stress? There's no stress in chaos and anarchy.~~~~~
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Monday, February 7, 2011
This Is Your Brain On Geek
(Originally posted on my old blog "The Domestication of a Punk Rock Foodie" on January 29, 2010. )
Oh laaaa, this is my brain all. the. time.
Oh laaaa, this is my brain all. the. time.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Blessed
I don't wish to be everything to everyone, but I would like to be something to someone. – Javan
Friday, February 4, 2011
Fish Sammich
When I was in university, money was tight. Like tight as Joan Rivers' face tight. I had been raised on a meat and potatoes, boil the shit out of everything and cook it until its good and dead diet.
When money was scarce, I had to become creative in what I ate and how I prepared it. One of the marvels that was created back then that still has life today was the fish sammich. This particular recipe was created from leftovers on a Sunday afternoon and while the ingredient list may look sketchy, it is the perfect sandwich to have at home on the weekends.
AVOCADO AND TILAPIA ON RYE
Makes 2 sandwiches.
Ingredients:
4 oz. tilapia (you can also use cod or sole)
1/2 tsp. lemon pepper
1/2 avocado
2 tbsp. miracle whip
2 tbsp. low fat sour cream
salt and pepper
1/4 -1/2 c. shredded cabbage
4 slices rye bread
1/4 - 1/2 c. prepared salsa
Method:
-preheat oven to 375 degrees
-season tilapia with lemon pepper; you may not use all of the 1/2 teaspoon or you may decide to use more
-on a foil lined tray, cook tilapia for 12 to 15 minutes; ensure to cook tilapia through but check frequently after 12 minutes for doneness
-set aside to cool
-in a bowl, combine avocado, miracle whip, and sour cream; season with salt and pepper to taste
-go here to learn how to remove a pit and avocado from the avocado skin
When money was scarce, I had to become creative in what I ate and how I prepared it. One of the marvels that was created back then that still has life today was the fish sammich. This particular recipe was created from leftovers on a Sunday afternoon and while the ingredient list may look sketchy, it is the perfect sandwich to have at home on the weekends.
AVOCADO AND TILAPIA ON RYE
Makes 2 sandwiches.
Ingredients:
4 oz. tilapia (you can also use cod or sole)
1/2 tsp. lemon pepper
1/2 avocado
2 tbsp. miracle whip
2 tbsp. low fat sour cream
salt and pepper
1/4 -1/2 c. shredded cabbage
4 slices rye bread
1/4 - 1/2 c. prepared salsa
Method:
-preheat oven to 375 degrees
-season tilapia with lemon pepper; you may not use all of the 1/2 teaspoon or you may decide to use more
-on a foil lined tray, cook tilapia for 12 to 15 minutes; ensure to cook tilapia through but check frequently after 12 minutes for doneness
-set aside to cool
-in a bowl, combine avocado, miracle whip, and sour cream; season with salt and pepper to taste
-go here to learn how to remove a pit and avocado from the avocado skin
-in a separate bowl, lightly flake the tilapia
-add the tilapia and cabbage to the avocado mixture and stir until the tilapia and cabbage are coated
-on one slice of bread, spread salsa and top with avocado and tilapia mixture
-top with remaining slice of bread
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Spicy Chicken And Rice
It is winter and cold. When I get cold on the inside, I like to spice it up. OK, I always like to spice it up but let's keep it PG rated, 'kay?
Use a pan with high sides or a pot for this recipe.
Serves four.
Ingredients:
4 oz. boneless chicken breasts, cut into bite sized pieces
1 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
1 can (14 oz.) whole tomatoes, cut in quarters
1/4 c. hot sauce
1 1/2 c. green peppers, diced
1/2 c. celery, diced
1/4 c. scallion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 c. fresh basil, chopped
1/4 c. fresh parsley, chopped
1/4 tsp. Cajun spice
1/4 tsp. salt
Method:
-heat oil in pan over high heat
-when oil is hot, add chicken and stir constantly for 3 to 5 minutes or until the chicken is no longer pink; reduce heat to medium
-add the tomatoes (and their juice), as well as the rest of the ingredients to the pan and simmer while covered for about 20 minutes
-serve over rice
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