What IS this place? What am I doing here?

What is this "blog" of which you speak? It sounds somewhat familiar...

That may have been the longest I have gone without blogging. I kept coming over here and blankly looking at the page, thinking "Yep, that's my blog. There it is."

Then I would go do something other important project, like trying to match my Mystery Socks. The most mysterious of the socks is the brown argyle one I have had since about 1997. I think I might oughta give up finding its mate. But it was such a GOOD pair of socks. Why did that one disappear and leave me pairless? *sob* My life: a never-ending string of micro-tragedies.

I have taken two days off work, so I have a four-day weekend. It was either that or Xanax. You think I'm joking? (bitter laugh).

So far I have slept in, eaten oatmeal and Girl Scout Thin Mints for breakfast, made a quadruple batch of dog food, and washed dishes 3 times (last night's, breakfast, dog food) and spent 4 hours (more or less) Twittering.

I ventured into new culinary territory by making beef-based dog food.

Until now I have only dared to cook that least meaty of meats, boneless chicken breasts. I was inspired to bust out of my rut by the sight of a big slab of pot roast for $1.47/lb. on sale at Vons.

I have never really cooked beef before and I had certainly never encountered something like a 7 bone roast.

The label said something about browning it on both sides and then braising it, which threw me into a panic. I didn't have a pan big enough to fit this monstrous cow side into to brown on both sides, and I didn't want to chop it up because I would then have to *actually touch beef.* Eeew.

I know some people cook meat every day without a problem but one of the main reasons I became a vegetarian 23 years ago is that I am too much of a wimp to handle raw meat.

The sight of a rare roast beef sandwich almost made me faint in a deli when I was about 14. I was standing there with my mom, holding the tray with sandwiches on it, looked down and became transfixed at the sight of a bloody rare pile of meat between two slices of bread.

Suddenly the world took a big swoopy turn and my mom had to grab the tray and sit me down to recover...I'm not making this up - I am truly that annoying of a person.

To attack the beast, I got out my biggest soup pot, kind of scored the roast down the middle with my sharpest knife, folded it like orgami and submerged it in water. I simmered it forever and it came out looking shreddy and burrito-meat-like. Voila.

I'm not disparaging people who eat meat - au contraire. I feel like it is me who is the lily-livered wimp and kind of admire people who can tear into a filet mignon like it is actual food and not a slab of Quivering Horror.

Clearly, I have issues. Let's look at the sunset, shall we?

J'accuse

I have recently been accused of being a very bad person by someone. I can't go into the details, but it has been hurtful and weird and, even though I know the situation is crazy, it still has made me question my actions and motives.

Or at least it did for a while. But then I realized - dang me, I really DO try to do the right thing for the most part.

Sure, I'm lazy and sometimes careless and in no way perfect. But I try. Honest, I do.

Pull up your chairs, kiddies: story time!

This morning I pulled my car out of the driveway and headed down the street, glancing in my rearview mirror.

Where I saw a dead cat in the street. Which looked like my neighbors' cat, Penny.

I didn't think I ran over the cat - it looked quite dead - but seeing it set off a firestorm of thoughts.

- Should I stop and get my neighbors, who were most likely asleep?
- Would they want to be awakened with news of their dead cat?
- They would see their dead cat soon enough, right?
- But if it was my animal, would I want it lying out there in the street?

By then I was out across the intersection from which there is no easy return. You have to go All The Way Around.

I sighed. I realized that I had to go back to deal with the dead cat. My plan was to go home, get a box, get gloves, clean Penny up, and present my neighbors with the closed box, so they would not be too traumatized by seeing poor little Penny cat out there in the street.

I got back home - knowing I would be late for work, but oh well. I got out of the car and went to look at Penny.

What I discovered was a total surprise. Not only was Penny not Penny, but Penny wasn't even a cat. Penny was a rabbit. (Sorry, Suzanne). And no one I know on my street has a rabbit.

Off the hook for Death Duty. Whew. But I was willing to do it if I had to. This being a good person thing is a pain in the butt, but it is something we do day by day, moment by moment. And sometimes those moments are gross and weird and strange. But we do what we can, right?

"Before enlightenment, chop wood and carry water.
After enlightenment, chop wood and carry water."
- from an old story about a Zen master

The Usual Question

This post will make no sense unless you have seen this video:


Today I was behind a car at a stoplight when I saw that, among its many bumper stickers, one said "Cake or Death?"

At the next stoplight I pulled up next to the car, which had its window down. I yelled "I'll have the cake, please!"

The woman first jumped out of her skin, then put her skin back on and started laughing.

That's my advice for the day: pick the cake.

The Rock and Roll Quiz

1. How did you get so rude and reckless?

2. Do you wanna dance?

3. Does anyone really know what time it is?

4. Is there anybody in there?

5. What is the frequency, Kenneth?

6. Do you feel like we do?

7. Who will stop the rain?

8. Could this be magic?

9. Are you experienced?

10. What is hip?

Please answer in full sentences.

Kristen Chase of Motherhood Uncensored

She asked when her photo was going up and I am happy to oblige.


2007, Chicago, with Drew