My Mom Cooks Like it is still the 70's

I can hardly contain myself. The last few days have been torture. And I foresee the next two days being just as bad. I leave for home Friday morning. Home is Avon Indiana(not actually the town I grew up in but very close and I will drive through my small town with its single four way stop.) My parents have a condo in Avon and my sister and her family and my brother and his will all be there and we will pretty much gorge ourselves on food. My mom is a great cook and we always have the same things at Christmas, Turkey on Christmas eve and Ham on Christmas day. Intermixed with all of that are the snacks. Cheeseballs, cookies, Chex Mix(homemade of course) and more specifically, a dried beef horseradish creamcheese roll up thing that is so good I crave it. It is one of what I call the 70's hors'douvres. The other is a dip made with creamcheese, garlic and chili sauce. My Mom got these recipe's in the 1970's and they are so delicious they just may be the best thing ever to come from the 70's.

Only two more days!!!!!!!!

I am one of those people

I never thought I would be one of those people, but I am. My last two posts have had pictures of my dog Chavdar, dressed for the holidays. In today's picture he is an elf. He is so darn adorable. I swear that I do not usually dress him up in costumes, but at Halloween and Christmas I can not help myself. My favorite part I admit is the fact that he looks so angry when in costume. He hates it and you can tell in the pictures. That is what makes so adorable. I promise this will be the last picture of Chavdar(for at least a couple of weeks)

Merry Christmas

I love Christmas. Despite my lingering doubts about the existence of a God let alone a Christian god I still love Christmas. I love that despite the sometimes bitter cold evenings, that the twinkling Christmas lights on the houses in my neighborhood make the walk from the train so much better. I love the constant strains of Christmas music pouring from cars, headphones and stores. I love my Christmas tree, I turn it on first thing in the morning and it is the last thing off at night. I love that my friends Gwyn and Peter are having a holiday cocktail party where Peter and I will play Christmas carols, he on the piano and me on the violin. I love that I will see my entire family for four days and that we will bake cookies, eat lots of chex mix, play board games and video games, watch "National Lampoons Christmas Vacation" and my Dad will laugh so hard he will cause himself to cough because of his asthma, and we will laugh and have fun and open Christmas gifts. Christmas is Wonderful.

The Reward

She received a reward every time she behaved. A cookie here a piece of pie there and sometimes a pair of diamond earrings or plasma screen TV for her room and once a pony. She learned to always behave. At her father's company Christmas Party she was on her best behavior everyone commented on how cute she was and what a good girl. But underneath all of the good behavior lurked a soul that wanted to yell and kick and scream at the top of her lungs. She kept her dark feelings all bottled up and slowly the rage built and built and as the years passed the rewards stopped. She no longer received a cookie here a pair of diamond earrings there. She dyed her hair purple then blue then green. Every part of her body that could be pierced was and she was on her ninth tattoo. Her parents told her every day how disappointed they were in her and she was not invited to her father's company Christmas party. So that night she sat on the balcony of her room that over looked the garden below where people from her father's company mingled. They laughed and drank and made small talk. She heard her father's voice before she saw him, " Lillian, oh yes it has been hard since she stopped behaving. We are not sure where we went wrong, but tomorrow we are having her sent to that school where Thomas sent his daughter. Yes, that's the one, when his daughter came back she was perfect never caused a problem, we hope we will have the same kind of success with Lillian. Yes, yes, their methods are violent but we think this is the only way...." She did not want to hear the rest. She had suspected they were planning something and now she had her answers. She would not let them do this, she had seen that girl when she had returned and she saw that her eyes were dead. She would not let that happen to herself. She went to her closet and started throwing things into her backpack. She lifted the edge of her mattress and removed the stack of cash she had secreted away for just such a time. She crept downstairs and out the front door. She looked back over her shoulder at the house glistening with Christmas lights, she could faintly her music and people laughing as she walked toward the street. One day she knew that her parents would get the punishment they deserved.

Basketball

I grew up in Indiana and went to Indiana University. Both of which when told to most people help explain my interest in basketball and enjoyment in watching a game live. I am not in general the kind of person who gets into sports, but having been around basketball fever all of my life and seeing some really amazing players and games I do love a good live game. Basketball is fast paced and there is always action on the court. So with that said you can understand why I so enjoyed going to a Bulls game last night with 3 friends. We had such a fun time. Professional sports games are like going to a carnival. There is always something happening and there are cheerleaders and really tall men and mascots who dance funny dances. Above is a free picture you can get taken and go online and get. You can see how much fun we were having.

Also note the new glasses and still long hair.

In the last hour.......

of the last day of the last year of the 21st century a girl child sat on the edge of the wall overlooking the forsaken land. She tried to picture in her mind what it must have looked like a hundred years before when people roamed the cities on foot, in cars and trains and buses. She imagined that it had been beautiful, but now all that was left was a wasteland of tumbling broken steel, glass and concrete. She knew that soon there would be nothing left, not even the ruins. Plans were underway to finally clean up the forsaken land. She watched as the men dressed in bio-hazard suits set the charges that would implode the ruins and obliterate the past. They had chosen to forget the past. What was done was done they all said. But secretly she kept a hidden journal full of clippings and photographs and stories about what the world had been like before the "Change". If they knew she had these things they would put her away like they had the historians and scholars. So she kept it all hidden where no one would ever look. She jumped as the first explosion went off. Then as if it were a fireworks display they all went off in succession. And then it was done and the past was gone. Along the wall where a platform had been set up for the dignitaries a loud cheer went up. Tonight there would be many parties of celebration, ringing in the New Year.

" I need a hero, I'm holding out for a hero......"

The song kept running over and over in her head. Everywhere she went there it was like a small pounding headache. On the bus over the talking and laughter and grinding of axles the song was faintly playing. Walking to work as the traffic zoomed by she could hear the chorus over and over again. She could not explain how it got stuck in her head, but it was. Had she heard the song recently on the radio, she was sure she had not. Had someone at the office been singing it? There was not a single person in her dingy gray office that could even possibly know the words so that was not an option. Why could she not get it out of her head. It was like a bad case of the hiccups. Nothing could stop it. Not listening to her favorite song, not going to a loud concert, nothing. It was stuck and she was sure it was going to last forever. It had been three weeks now. And now even when she dreamed it was there playing softly in the background. She was pretty certain she was going insane. That day for lunch she headed out by herself. Usually she brought something and ate it in the lunch room but today she felt like getting out. She stopped in the first diner she saw, opened the menu and had an epiphany. There was the answer to ending her misery and getting rid of the song. When the waitress asked for her order she politely said, " I'll have the hero."

Portland, Oregon

I went to Portland a few weeks ago and have not really had the time to write about it. I had a great time there. It was fun and relaxing and I did a lot of things. When I got back to Chicago a number of people asked me what my favorite part was. There were so many great things, I could say visiting Cargo, where they had a Pink Mao bust, with Laini, or going to Powells three different times and searching through their stacks and stacks of books, or going to Multnomah Falls, or the Corn Maze, or shopping in all the cool shops, or visiting the Portland Historical Society Museum. All of these things were amazing and I had a great time but honestly my favorite part was just hanging out with Alexandra and watching DVD's of the Office. Laughing and talking and reminiscing about our Peace Corps days. I am fortunate to have Alex as a friend and I miss seeing her all the time. One of the best times Alex and I had in the Peace Corps was watching an eight hour South Park marathon and eating homemade pizza and just relaxing. We were living and traveling and experiencing so many things while we were in the Peace Corps, so to have the opportunity to just slug about and relax was actually a luxury. And to have a friend like Alex was a gift. So my favorite part of Portland is just being able to hang out with Alex and laugh and talk and enjoy.

Sunrise

She could just see the first glimmers of light as the sun began to rise. She allowed a small smile to touch her lips. She had hoped she would make it until morning and she had. Her work was not done, but at least for a few hours she could let her defenses down and relax a little. She really needed a coffee she thought. Isn't that what people did in the morning. It had been many years since she had seen the sunrise. She had chased the night for too long. Now she had a moments break to bask in the glory of the sun. Breakfast. That is what she needed. Eggs and bacon and pancakes and hash browns. It all sounded so exotic and delicious. She made her way to a diner on the edge of town. She was overwhelmed by the choices. She settled on the blueberry pancakes smothered in maple syrup. The first bite was like falling in love and she gobbled down the rest without taking a breath. She gulped her coffee and when she was finished she sat back with a satisfied smile. As she left the diner she caught a glimpse of a dark figure lurking in the shadows. Her break was over; back to the grind. She darted into an alley and made her way to where she had seen the figure. She saw the opening in the ground and followed the familiar sent of blood to the chamber below. The casket was sitting in the middle of the floor and the lid was still vibrating from being slammed shut. She withdrew a wooden stake from her bag, opened the casket and plunged the stake into the vampires heart.

The Singing Dragon

As the castle slept, the Princesses meet.
A dragon with wings,who like to sing, had disturbed the peace and threatened their niece.
His singing was so very bad, that it made everyone sad.
He sang and sang and the Princesses ears rang and rang.
Every night for a week, they would seek a quite place to sleep.
But, alas slumber they could not, for their was no quite spot.
A plan to end this torment, if even for a moment.
So the Princesses talked through the night with no answer in sight.
Tired and sad the Princesses fled very bad.
For a plan was nowhere to be had and the dragon's signing left their ears ringing.
In the castle courtyard a young prince and princess sat and watched a cat.
The grandchildren of the King, they had once liked to sing.
But now even the wind in their favorite chimes sounded like a crime.
For when the Dragon sang they would dream of silence with a pang.
The singing was so terrible it was completely unbearable.
So the young prince and princess made a plan.
They would have to take a stand and end the dragon's reign and their families pain.
Off they went this way and that way searching for the dragon's hideaway.
Un the hills where the cows grazed the dragon was sleeping in the sun's rays.
Full of fear the Prince and Princess approached as slowly the Dragon awoke.
He turned his head and the children were filled with dread.
"Could you scratch my belly?" he said.
"By the way my name is Fred."
The children looked at him in wonder as all their fears were torn asunder.
Fred was generous and kind.
The children were in a real bind.
How to tell him his singing was bad, for it would make him sad.
So because they cared they asked why he dared to sing every night and fill the kingdom with fright.
He lowered his head to the ground and said he had found that sometimes love hurt.
He had a fight with the love of his life his beautiful Dragon wife.
So he had left their lair and thought his wife did not care.
The Princess and Prince went to find the wife for whom he pined.
They found her with eyes all red, crying because of Fred.
She was sad he was gone and knew she had been wrong.
She wanted him back with her, she was sure.
So the Prince and Princess reunited the pair and ended the scare.
That night the castle slept until the sun rose and filled the sky with light.

Corn on the Cob, the perfect car food

I was driving home from work yesterday. I work in Downtown Chicago and usually take Public Transportation but occasionally I have to go somewhere that is easier to drive to and yesterday was one of those days, I enjoy driving every once in a while becasue you see such weird random things while driving. I took a couple of co-workers home on my way and after dropping one off my other co-worker and I were chatting. We came to a four way stop and were stopped as a car made a left turn toward us and the guy driving was knawing on a piece of corn. We looked at each other and laughed. It was so odd. I have never seen someone driving their car eating corn on the cob. If you think about it, it actually is the perfect car food. It is on a stick so your hands do not get messy, you only need one hand and you do not have to put it down. It is perfect. I am considering starting a drive through corn on the cob restaurant.

I am a Chicken

Over the past few weeks I have been thinking of getting my hair cut. I have had basically the same hair for almost ten years now. Above is a picture from 7 years ago and if you look at my profile picture taken in March you can see what I mean. The same hair. So recently I saw a woman with really great hair. It was very short and looked really great. I wanted her hair and I have a hairdresser that I think could easily reproduce this short pixie like cut for me and it would probably look great. I made an appointment for today at Noon. I have cancelled the appointment. I can not do it. Why is hair such a dilemma for us. When I asked a couple people about what they thought about my cutting my hair they visibly winced like I had punched them. It is my hair after all, why would it cause such a reaction from them. Now granted a few people were very supportive. They said things like it is just hair, it will grow back, and they are right. It is just hair, it will grow back, so why did I chicken out. I can not explain it. Fear perhaps? Instead I have decided to just get new glasses.

The Reports of Darth Vader's Death are True

Sad news on the homefront. Despite his best efforts to beat the hand of time, Darth Vader has succumbed. He threw of the fins of his mortal existence and joined that big school of fish in the sky. I had thought I was prepared for his death as it has been coming for a while now. But alas I was not prepared. It was a sad day when I discovered him floating in his bowl. He lived a good long life, 31/2 years, a long time for a fish. My apartment feels empty without him. I think Chavdar has even noticed the emptiness.

Being Good

It felt so good to be bad. She had lived most of her 29 years being good. Studying in school, not smoking, no excessive drinking, following instructions and directions, listening to her fellow man, working hard. But now she was free of all that for the first time in her life and it felt good, darkly, dirty, sexy good. She could see the fear in the eyes of the man she had the heel of her boot planted on. She dug her heel in a little more and watched with glee as he winced in pain. This was the most fun she had in a long while. She asked the man one more time for the information she wanted. This time with blood streaming from his broken nose he gave it up, everything she needed to know. She removed her foot from his neck holstered her gun and sauntered out. She headed for a bar she knew would be crowded with the kind of people she needed. In her short skirt and fishnet stockings a man couldn't help but watch her walk by. And that is exactly what she wanted. She had learned the fine art of distraction from a prostitute in Memphis. It was a skill she had never used before but had found she had a knack for and she used it now for one reason and one reason alone, Revenge! They would pay, all of them. The good girl was gone.

Chocolate Bars for Guns

If I could stop time this is what I would do: I would go all over the world and replace every single gun with a Chocolate bar. The Gun locked in a box in your closet, now a chocolate bar. The gun resting on that rack in the back window of your truck, a chocolate bar. The guns of every soldier every where, chocolate bars. The guns being manufactured at Smith and Wesson, now chocolate bars, in fact the Smith and Wesson factory, now a chocolate factory. Once time was unfrozen everyone would then have all this amazing chocolate to eat and would not even notice the guns were gone because they would be too happy eating chocolate to even care about what they had been planning to do with those guns.

If I could have one super power it would be teleportation. It is a selfish super power and I would want to be able to teleport other with me sometimes. Just think about it. Dinner in Paris, you are there in an instant. Bead shopping in Accura, Ghana whenever you want. Visiting family an friends at a moments notice. Think of all you could do and the money you would save.

Inspiration

In the spring I was inspired by my friend Alexandra to get back to writing. I had not really been pursuing it recently and she helped me become excited about it again. So I set up one big goal for myself, create a writing corner by the end of the summer. I wanted to find a desk( for cheap since I do work in the non-profit world)and I wanted to paint it a fun color and I wanted to make it a good place to write. I actually accomplished this feat. I got a desk for free from a friend who was moving, I painted it a pale blue and I decorated it with pictures, etc, and I created a good place to write. Above is a terrible picture of the desk, but it will have to do for now. Below is the beginning of a story I am working on at that desk. Thanks Alex.


The dream started like it always had in the past. She was sitting on a tree stump in a lush forest surround by a group of strange, mystical creatures. The centaur was the first to speak. She always listened intently and although she could see his lips moving she could never hear a word of what he was saying. In fact there was no sound at all in the dream and there never had been. She always awoke at the same moment every time, at the point when the creatures began to silently clap in unison. This time though was different she saw the Centaurs lips move and suddenly she could her birds chirping and then rolling like thunder there was a loud roaring coming from across the forest.
She sat bolt upright and grabbed her head to stop the pounding. She was shaking and covered in sweat. She looked around her darkened room as the moonlight danced its way along the floor, waltzing up and touching on the bright blue pendant laying on her dresser, making the eye on the pendant appear to be winking at her.

Family Values

I am frustrated, tired and getting angrier by the day. The reasons for this are the constant bombardment by the Republicans in office and those running for office, with negative ads and scare tactics. For the last six years I have been told over and over that if I do not support the Republicans that I do not support family values. That if I do not support the Republicans I want the terrorist to win. That if I do not support the Republicans I will go to hell. I am sick and tired. I heard again yesterday in a program on what the press calls, "Security Mom's" ,a young woman about my age actually said, "The Republican Party is the Party for me because they support family values," I yelled at the TV, Really!!!!! Because I guess that is true if you think family values consists of lying about WMD's, cutting taxes yet spending more money on a War you lied about to get support for, cutting funding for Health and Human services, blaming your predecessor for not catching Osama Bin Laden when you, yourself have had six years in which to catch him and you have not, ignoring Korea for the last six years so you can wage a War on a country that had no real connection to the attack on 9/11, being to bullheaded to use diplomacy to try to solve world problems, passing a law called "No Child Left Behind" that actually leaves every child behind ,except for the children of the very rich who can afford the best private schools, Oh and yeah, sending illicit text messages to underage boys describing what you want to do to them sexually, if all of these sound like good family values to you then yes the Republican Party is the party for you. Oh and I will see you in Hell, you heard me, because according to a number of your Strong, Jesus loving, terrorist Hating, Patriotic, White Sheet Wearing brethren I am going to hell for all of my liberalism, While you will be there for all the evil you have allowed to flourish by voting Republican, all in the name of Family Values. Peace.

Fact: King Tut bears an eerie resemblance to Barbara Streisand.

I had the opportunity to see the King Tut exhibit at the Field Museum here in Chicago this week. It amazes me that these artifact's are over 3000 years old and still in wonderful condition. I did the audio tour which I love doing so I can learn lots of interesting facts. For instance, King Tut was just nineteen when he died. There were a lot more interesting facts as well, but the most interesting thing I learned was that from what scientists have figured out from CAT scans etc is that King Tut bears an uncanny resemblance to a Young Barbara Steisand.

The Costume

She had skinned her knee again. It seemed that she always had a skinned knee, bruised elbow, scratched leg, or stubbed toe. She was klutzy and had never felt comfortable in her skin, ever, not for 12 years. Her parents said she would grow into her body and that everyone sometimes felt like they did not belong in their own skin. But she seriously believed that this feeling of hers was different then that. She really thought she did not belong in the body she now occupied. She could not describe it to anyone and had never tried for fear they would laugh at her. She got that enough and did not need anything else to make people think she was a freak. On the morning of her thirteenth birthday with a skinned knee she sat down for breakfast with her parents. They were acting weird but she did not dwell on it. All she could think about was what was going to happen at school and how she had to get up in front of her whole class and read her poem. She hated speaking in front of her class. So when her Mom cleared her throat and said she need to talk to her about something important, she was not really focusing on what she was saying. All she really noticed was the moving of her Mom’s lips and her nervous hand gestures. That was until her Mom slowly reached up to her hair line and pulled off her face. She gasped and watched in horror as her Dad also reached up and pulled off his face. Underneath was the most beautiful iridescent blue skin she had ever seen. She truly listened then and sat and took it all in, absorbing everything. Then she stood up and went slowly up to her room. What she learned was going to take some time to sort out. But first she had to see if it was true. She went to the mirror on her closet door and lifted up her hair. She had never really paid attention to the scar that ran along her hairline. Her parents had told her she had minor surgery when she was a baby, but apparently that was not true. Apparently what her parents meant when they said she had minor surgery was that they had created a human skin to cover her real skin so that she could live as a human. So she lifted her hair again and pulled her skin down and their beneath the human skin was the blue iridescent skin. It was lovely. She was lovely. Her eyes when seen with the human skin appeared plain and brown but with this blue skin they glowed a bright amber color. She was still adjusting to this revelation when her older brother burst through the door of her room. He started talking and everything gushed out about how their parents had told him on his thirteenth birthday and how it had taken him a while to adjust. She sank to the floor and just listened. Listened to his words flow over her. She started thinking about all her scrapes and bruises and how she had never felt as if she fit into this body and now she knew why. It was not her skin. Her skin was the iridescent blue that all her kind had in common. They had settled on earth three generations before; putting on their human costumes to blend in. Their planet had died over a hundred years ago and although most of her kind had settled on earth there were others who had settled on different planets in different solar systems. That evening as she looked out her window at all the stars shining brightly in the sky, a slow smile spread across her face. She fell asleep that night feeling comfortable for the first time in 13 years as the moon glistened on her bright blue skin.

The Reports of Darth Vader's death are greatly exaggerated!

I have been on a death watch for the past two weeks. My beloved fish Darth Vader has appeared to be on death's door. Yet he remains alive. I first noticed a couple of weeks ago that he was listing to the side and wanted to lay at the bottom of his bowl most of the time and he was not eating. I changed his water in the hopes of reviving him but it seemed to only make him linger more at death's door. But against all hopes last night he seemed to simply shake off deaths grip and started swimming vigorously around his bowl. I feed him and he ate every morsel. What happened to give Mr.Vader(as my Dad likes to call him) a renewed vigor for life? I have no answer that question. Perhaps he realized all he would miss out on if he did swim into the light. Or maybe just maybe he dreams of making it into the Guinness Book of World Records by being the longest living Betta Fish ever. He has survived for 3 years and 4 months so surely he is on his way. I hope his zest for life keeps him going. I will be sad when he does decide to throw off the mantle of mortal existence and join the school of fish in the blue waters of the sea beyond.