neither here nor there

It has been a while since I've written.. I've never claimed to be good at this. So, lets do some catching up. My birthday was an absolute blast. James took me out to a lovely dinner, we met friends for 'dressed up martinis' afterwards, went to the Phoenix for their infamous drag show (you may have seen the photos by now) and visited other various nightspots... It was great fun, and all that a girl could wish for.
Work has been crazytown lately. We sold over 2300 double dozens of roses in three days. (that's 55,300 roses WHEW!) All the roses came with complementary wrapping and lets just say that my fingers still ache from the thorns and it really bites to be a tall person working on a tiny table for nearly 13 hours (I'm sure my cohorts will agree). My first Valentine's as a married peep I worked at WF until almost 11p, waiting tables for our first Valentines couples price fixe dinner. And before dawn the following morning, I helped to cut fruit for the Mercedes Marathon and got to see my lovely hubby James ran the relay! (6.2 miles in less than an hour, go Bebe!!) It was a lot of fun. Since then, I've been crippled by a debilitating illness, okay okay, a sore throat, but that is neither here nor there.
More catching up, let's see....
Shortly after New Years, I found out that an old friend of mine had died. She and I had a falling out years and years ago. We were really close for quite a while. Our lives were as different as can be, and that fact eventually led to the dissolution of our friendship. I saw things through rose-colored glasses, and she saw things through shit. That might actually be a direct quote, but again, neither here nor there. It really makes my mind do backflips. I am shocked and saddened by the news of her death; the fact that she has been dead for three years already makes me nauseous. I am still in disbelief that it could have been that long and I had no idea she was dead. It makes me feel like things are hollow for some reason. It really shakes my tree.
But my life goes on.
I had the honor of being the chef at Local Dish last Monday. The ingredient was Chocolate. Local Dish is a little bit like Iron Chef, except you aren't competing against anyone. But there is a common ingredient, chocolate, three separate dishes, and three judges. Here's a quick run-down on the courses.
Mixed baby greens salad with ripe red d'anjou pears, walnuts and goat cheese with a chocolate-fig-balsamic vinaigrette
Spice-rubbed pork loin (rub included cocoa powder, chilies, etc) with red chocolate Mole (simmered 32 hours)
Triple chocolate butter bar topped with white chocolate ganache, 99% cacao shavings and coarse pink Andes Salt.
It was a lot of fun. The experience has also led me to create a new blog- I haven't worked on it much yet, but I will in the weeks to come, and frankly, I'm surprised I haven't done this yet. TheSavoryChef.blogspot.com
Well, here's to great plans.
(I think I've probably had a little too much cough syrup this morning.)
James bought me a sewing machine and I will attempt to sew something today. Wish me (and my fingertips) good luck.

things i really like..

http://incrediblethings.com/home/stuck-goldfish-bath-plug

this is the sound of the unlocking and the lift away

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ePatJIwB-sI

my excavation and today is kumran
Everything that happens is from now on
This is pouring rain
This is paralyzed

I keep throwing it down two-hundred at a time
It's hard to find it when you knew it
When your money's gone
And you're drunk as hell

On your back with your racks as the stacks as your load
In the back and the racks and the stacks are your load
In the back with your racks and you're un-stacking your load

I've twisting to the sun I needed to replace
The fountain in the front yard is rusted out
All my love was down
In a frozen ground

There's a black crow sitting across from me; his wiry legs are crossed
And he's dangling my keys he even fakes a toss
Whatever could it be
That has brought me to this loss?

On your back with your racks as the stacks as your load
In the back and the racks and the stacks of your load
In the back with your racks and you're un-stacking your load

This is not the sound of a new man or crispy realization
It's the sound of the unlocking and the lift away
Your love will be
Safe with me

my favorite things

Started at a summer lake,
A sentence and a name.
If only for a moments sake,
You called it and it came.

Held him down and let him eat,
longer then a while.
Hold it down and let him eat,
softer then a child.

We've seen how sick wind blows,
But I've got your bovine eyes.
And I'll love you like i love you when i die.
We've seen how sick wind blows,
But I've got your bovine eyes.
And I'll love you like i love you when i die.

Shot the rats and as they ran,
From the quarry to the track.
Chasing what i gave to him,
I never took it back.
Held it up in front the wind,
Blowing missing chime.
Found it, God, and begged him,
Fight your body back.

We've seen how sick wind blows,
But I've got your bovine eyes.
And I'll love you like i love you when i die.
We've seen how sick wind blows,
But I've got your bovine eyes.
And I'll love you like i love you when i die.

I believed he is the number one who wants to let you wonder.

We've seen how sick wind blows,
But I've got your bovine eyes.
And I'll love you like i love you when i die.
I'll love you like i love you when i die.
I'll love you like i love you when i die.

your brain is full of spiders, you have garlic in your soul

mr grinch. - eh, i'm not really feeling grinchy, don't worry. I am a little bummed that the money tree I planted hasn't yet produced fruit, but not quite grinchy. I did manage to crochet a baby hat last night- it is one of the cutest things I have ever made. Now to figure out how to attach the bear face to sew on the front. ;) it's the simple things, i suppose. Blueberry pancakes for breakfast, sleeping in with my husband, giving my doggies burritos for breakfast. Ah, this is the life.
I am a bargain shopper. I love to go to sales at the end of one season and stock up on things for next season. For example, last spring, I bought 2 sweaters at Old Navy for $3 each. And they were totally cute, with hoodies and elbow reinforcers. The problem is that now I have no effing clue where they are. I was really counting on these to be my new winter wardrobe as a family of moths somehow snuck in without me knowing and gobbled holes in all my nice winter clothes. ugh. And then of course, when I go check out the sales this year, it is as if someone exactly my size came in a bought up everything that would possibly fit me. So, I either have to gain more weight, or drop down to a size 2 in order to wear anything off the rack. Yes, I am being melodramatic. Sue me. These things happen.
Maybe i can crochet myself a sweater. Eh, maybe my ass.

things i lost while sleeping

well, the puppies made it through, and now all the animales sleep inside. We are like one big snuggly family. Most of the time, anyway. The job has gotten easier, things are settling down, after the thanksgiving nightmare, and i have three days off in a row this week (two of which are with my husband.) But I'll be damned because i've been looking for my hammer all morning and just can't seem to find it anywhere.
I don't know why sometimes we seem to create problems for ourselves. They squeeze and seep their way up from the depths and wiggle into our life (which, by the way, has so much promise.) We aren't having to deal with problems like some of our friends and family have and are- no foreclosure, no cancer, and no annoying exes (those have seemed to drift into the woodwork as well, and i am thankful) at least we aren't dealing with these problems YET. But somehow, we find reason to fight, and to scream at each other, to keep things from one another, to forget how we promised just to be good to each other. I wonder sometimes if there is some ambiguous force that whispers to the subconscious and says "you can do whatever you want". And anyone out there who is married realizes, as i do, that this simply isn't so.
I'm learning daily what marriage is all about. I'm not saying I'm good at it, but I'm learning. Anyone who tells you that living together and being married is essentially the same thing is obviously still legally single. It is different. Things hold more weight and water than they once did. You are bound to another person, legally, intimately, emotionally- and not because you have to, not because you are related by blood, but because you chose to be. You stood in front of your nearest and dearest and swore to love this one person no matter what. Of course, half of all marriages end in divorce, so this may or may not actually mean anything. People give up all the time. But I don't want to be in the losing half of that equation. Truly, I don't.
I'm realizing that a lot of being married is an uphill battle. It's a constant struggle- made easier with lots of snuggling and learning when to bite your tongue- and when to use it.
It become blurred, this line between fucking and fighting, making up and making love; days turn into weeks and into years and then you look back and wonder how you made it so far- what magic got you through. When you squint your eyes and you just can't figure it out- I hope that when that happens, we can just remember that first promise we made to each other, that secret promise in the dark that night, when we're struggling so hard, pulling our own direction as far as we can pull, when the hammer is just beyond my reach and I'm still stretching, i hope we can remember just to try and be good to each other, nothing more- then i think we'll make it after all.

pupcicle, anyone?

I'm off for the next two days. I think we might go to Atlanta to see our friend's new baby for the first time. Little Ashland. ;) I'm worried about the puppies, though. It is supposed to go down to 28 degrees Tuesday night. The dogs have been delegated to the backyard for a few months now, and although James bought them each their very own awesome dog-loo, Juicy is scared to get inside. I really don't want to come home to a couple of pup-cicles in my backyard. ;(

and then there was one

She's like a yo-yo. Up and down. Up and down. I don't know where she's goin. Barely where she's been. I wanna know, yo. I can't control her. Can't see how she works. Don't know why she just keeps rollin along. She's like a yo-yo. Up and down. Up and down. I can't see inside her. Can't see what makes her work. I just keep pushin and pullin. She's like a yo-yo.

lunch

Whole Foods Market freshly made margarita pizza-$2.99

Tax------------------------------------------------------$0.27

My beloved employee discount----------------------($0.66)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Total price of my lunch--------------------------------$2.60

The joy of paying for your lunch entirely in coins: priceless

it's been a long time.

I haven't posted anything on here for quite a while. I think after the pinata posting, it didn't really feel right putting serious thoughts on here as well. I have since changed my mind about that.
A lot has changed for me. I am married now, and very happily married, at that. I have a new kick-ass job that I love- that allows me to be creative and to take the reigns. It challenges me daily, and I love it.
My friendships are evolving and changing. Some for the better, and some for something else. Is this a simple fact of life? I'm not sure. So many things get in the way. Some things just don't come as easily as they once did. Perhaps this is because as we age, our priorities shift. I feel closer and more in tune with James than ever, and farther apart from some of my old friends than ever before. I know this is partially because between the new demanding job and the new loving husband, my schedule has fewer gaps than it has ever had. But I also know it is due to something more. My opinions on what that 'something more' consists of changes daily.
My family and I have a great relationship, but I don't see them as much as I should. Part of this, again, is the lack of gaps. And part of it is something else. I've always been different than my family. I'm the 'black sheep' or the 'hippy'. Lovely, I know. It marks how much of me they don't quite get. They have continually struggled to understand me and my past behavior. It makes sense, after all, since I never admitted some of my hardest struggles; some struggles, however, I have shared openly and honestly. Of course my family loves me very much- unconditionally. But I do sometimes feel like its hard to relate, and harder for them to relate to me. The emotions that fill me, instinctual and social, are powerful. And the sadness that can accompany this plethora of emotions is hard to explain- especially to those who, no matter how much they love me, cannot empathize. Sometimes my sister's off handed comments demonstrate plainly, and painfully, how far removed she is from me.
She isn't heartless, she is overwhelmed by her own difficulties. And perhaps that is the problem we all face. We can't see the forest for the trees. I tend to take things personally, even when other peoples' actions, or inactions, have nothing at all to do with me. It is so easy to focus on what's in the foreground- to become so overwhelmingly absorbed in your personal here and now. It is a horrible thing to feel so far away from other people- to feel so clueless, and to have no one in the picture to explain it to you. It makes so much sense to place the reason on the shoulders you know best: your own.
So if I realize all this, if I see the pain I exacerbate pointlessly, then why isn't it something I can easily amend? I don't know the answer.
Here's something I do know: The sun wakes me in the morning, radiating warmth through the layers of covers on my bed. The beams start at my toes and inch methodically up my body. Every morning it's the same routine. When the light finally reaches my face it stands at attention, refusing to budge. When I surrender and rise, I see from the window my sweet pup asleep in the first light, his chestnut fur shining. I smell the musky sweet perfume of coffee, and hear the rustling of James' newspaper. I am happy here. Maybe this is all I need.

poopy puppy, hurray!

I'm getting a puppy! I feel like a 5 year old, I'm so excited. James and I drove to Remlap, AL tonight to choose our new nanimal. It was nearly impossible to choose because they were all so gosh-darn cute. There were puddles of puppies everywhere. I mean, how does anyone say no when there's the sweet pungency of puppy breath in the air? We have to wait at least 2 1/2 weeks until he's ready to part from his mama. I can't wait! Hard as it was, we made our choice. Here's our Bongo:

bling it on

Man, am I exhausted. My new job is a little stressful, and I'm feelin the wear. (in the form of a partially-formed ulcer burning in my gut.) It's not that I dislike the work, it's just that I'm not accustomed to feeling this sort of "do or die" stress in my day to day life. I'm not sure I like it. But one thing is certain: I need the job. And it's a new form of work for me, sales. It's low pressure for the customer, but the whole idea that my paycheck depends on my success/luck is gonna take a little getting used to.
James and I "pimped our chalices" last night. Or, we "pimped our chali-cees" as was decided it should be pronounced properly. It was a lot of fun. I still have super glue under my fingernails, and James has some minor burns from the so-called "low temp" glue gun.
James' chalice didn't make it through the night, unfortunately, given it had already cracked at the base and had been re-glued, and I believe after a few beers graced its gilded form, and jewels began to kamikaze their way to the ground, he flung it across the deck. Oh well, you can't save them all. My chalice, however was bling-a-rific, and super-sweet. Who knew how much fun pimping cups could be? Now we have to come up with some other crafty things to bling. I have so far suggested to Buffy that perhaps we could pimp MY ASS. It's just so plain-- I mean, it's sexy as hell, but it really could use a little sumpin'. Maybe next Wednesday.

happy happy joy joy

Ok, after my last posting, I decided I should leave you guys a little something more upbeat. I"M GETTING A NEW PUPPY! In 3 weeks, to be exact. And we shall call him Bongo. He's only 3 weeks old, and Juicy is so excited to have a friend. He's brindle black white and grey. I'm so excited. I shall post pictures as soon as I get them. Yea!

I fell into a fucking manhole.

Seriously.

Monday morning, 9:14 am.

I leave for work as usual. As I pull out of the driveway I see a kitty in the middle of the road that has been hit by a car. It looks like my cat. My heart stops. I pull up a few feet and see it is not my cat, but my neighbors cat that looks almost identical. I breathe a guilty sigh of relief. So far, the damage to the cat isn't too bad. However, since he is lying in the center of our very busy street, I decide the least I can do is move him off the street. The neighbor diagonal just moved in three days ago. There are boxes, blankets, carpet, etc., waiting to be picked up by the garbage truck near the street. I put the car in park and put on my hazard lights. I get out of the car, go grab a discarded blanket and scoop up the poor kitty. I walk approximately seven feet to the neighbor's yard, just past the rain gutter, and turn to face the road before setting the kitty down. What I do not realize is that my left foot is resting on a manhole cover. That is, until the manhole cover flips, and my entire right leg sinks into the manhole up to my thigh-- WITH A DEAD CAT IN MY ARMS. I mean, seriously. People are driving by and I look like a clumsy psycho-killer sprawled out on the ground clutching a dead and bloody cat. What a great way to start the day. What are the odds?? Seriously. I'd like to see some statistics.

i get itchy just thinking about it

ok, we bought our house in November. A nice, cool November at that, and the view from our back deck was pretty nice. We live on the top of a ridge, and when the foliage is dormant, we can see all the little city lights glistening through the tree trunks that criss cross our backyard. Well, since Alabama weather has once again decided to skip a season (more on global warming later) the view we once enjoyed is now blocked by all the leaves, brush, and VINES. It seems our winter home purchase left us with a backyard completely and utterly consumed in poison ivy. Not just a little here or there, but EVERYWHERE. I mean, it is eating the trees, the ground, and at this point it wouldn't surprise me if it could float, and tomorrow i'll wake up to find a vine maze hovering on my deck.


Everything you see in these photos is the IVY! Now, I have been very lucky, and thus far in my life, I have never had a reaction to the stuff. Once in California, I came home with some Sumac as a souvenir, but the ivy hasn't ever really affected me. Unfortunately, my fiance is not so lucky. Apparently, James is one of the lucky people who not only covers over with blisters and rashes when he touches poison ivy, but also is someone who would go into anaphylactic shock and may even die from touching it. This has not made me a happy camper. And our beloved dog, Juicy, has decided that the most comfortable place in the entire fenced area of our yard in which to wallow is a small patch that is padded in POISON IVY. He loves the stuff, apparently. SO, now every time we pat the puppy's head, or scratch his ears, or scrub him down, we are playing roulette. yea! I spent most of the morning pulling up the vines, spraying it down with Ortho's poison ivy killer, and then re-spraying it with "pet away" spray, which makes Juicy think he is in trouble, because the only other time we sprayed it was when he continued to try to eat our deck, our bench and any wooden parts of our house. (we have since calmed him with large branches he eats for snacks as part of his high-fiber diet.) Well, this summer should be fun.

sleep to dream

So, last night I had a dream in which I was looking through items on a shelf that I had placed there IN OTHER DREAMS. How strange when something is familiar only in your dreams. Like a common location where you've had many dreams that occurred there, or people who you can't quite place anywhere but in your dreams, but if you think about it, you've dreamt of them for YEARS upon years... just seems interesting to me.. I have always had extremely vivid dreams, and I almost always remember them when I wake. I've never been one for much dream interpretation. I don't think if you dream you are a school bus driver (night before last) that it is related to the "road of your life" as a recent coworker suggested. I think I had watched school bus racing on some "extreme tv" show a couple days ago. Voila. Other things that I do think have deep meaning are very easy for me to understand. These things tend to make sense TO ME, not necessarily someone else to interpret. For example, I used to dream about a friend from highschool, and whenI would get near her, a scorpion would be clasped to my forearm. Now, I severed this friendship because this girl was sucking the life out of me. So, it makes sense. But I also have these reoccuring dreams where it's the end of the world, or civilization is undergoing a massive overhaul, people running, screaming, killing themselves, fighting each other, hording canned goods, etc. , and I really try not to read too much into it. I mean, we've all watched movies like Armeggedon and Mad Max, and we all lived throught the "Y2K" disaster, so I figure these dreams are just a culmination of what every culture has: a fear of death, a fear of nothingness, a fear that we are just a speck and no matter what we do, we cannot leave a lasting impression. Pretty big stuff when you are sleeping. But I don't find that these dreams have some big meaning. They are only dreams: my brain's way of sorting out life.

honey

Last week, James came home from a long jog, stood in the middle of our living room and smelled his left armpit NINE TIMES. I mean honestly, after two or three sniffs, you get it, right? Perhaps this is something residual from childhood, being a boy and grossing each other out or something. This is what prompts a man to drink spoiled milk and then ask someone else to taste it. "Hey, this milk is rotten. Taste it." Um, no thanks, I'll pass. Honestly, I trust your judgement. I know that I love this man. He offered to let me have a sniff of his armpits when he was done with his NINE sniffs. I passed.

well, here we go.

Wow. Who knew it was so easy to start your very own blog? I mean, my friends have blogs, but for some reason I thought it was an excruciating process to actually create your own. Well, I was wrong. Thank you, Google. Here goes nothin'.