I'm trying to figure out how to get pictures from my photo printer to my laptop. I got the cord and the software, but STILL can't quite get it right. I'm not sure who's worse with technology, Davey Dogs or me.
As I was working on it, Davey Dogs asked me, "What's on the tape?"
Me: "What tape?"
He pointed at the CD as I loaded it into the tray.
Me: "You mean the CD?"
DD: (Laughing, like I'm correcting him.) "Yeah, what's on it?"
Me: "It's software so I can get pictures from one place to the other."
DD: "Oh, so you can see them on the TV?"
Me: "No, on my laptop ... not the TV."
DD: "You know what I meant ... I'm old school."
Me: "Honey, people didnt watch picture CDs on TV in the old school."
I may have known the pictures are on a "CD" and will show on my "Laptop" and not the TV, but my pictures are still trapped in my camera! When it comes to technology, neither of us should be too quick to sign up for "Are you Smarter Than a 5th Grader."
Monday, March 31, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Illegal Immigrants
The debate over what to do, or not do, about illegal immigrants keeps appearing before me this morning ..... on TV, the newspaper, and even in blog world. It's one of those hot-button issues for me, and therefore I can't resist chiming in with my two cents. It INFURIATES me that anyone thinks this country owes anything to illegal immigrants. Except for maybe a ride home.
Let me first say, I'm not against immigration. But there are legal ways to enter, stay and become a citizen of this country. People who follow the legal process should be supported -- people who do not should be sent home. Immediately. Don't pass go, don't collect $200. Just go home. Don't even stop at one of our jails, just go home.
Giving jobs to illegal immigrants is nothing more than off-shoring jobs for cheap labor. It takes jobs from Americans (and legal immigrants) who want and need them. It's a form of tax evasion -- which is illegal. It sucks money out of our economy and puts nothing back in. I have to pay income taxes, so why shouldn't an illegal immigrant earning an income in our country -- is it because we have no way to track their presence here ... no way to track and charge them because they have no social security number or legal identification ... because employers don't report them on their payroll?? It's bullshit.
Any candidate(s) who thinks I, as a taxpayer, am willing to pay for the healthcare of an illegal immigrant should probably shop elsewhere for a vote. (By the way, I'm an independent who changes party registration based on whichever primary I want to vote in.) I'm already paying for my healthcare and the care of people on Medicare and welfare. And I'm paying a lot. So are you. To think that any of my legally, hard-earned money or any of our government's money will go to pay for healthcare, housing, financial aid for illegal immigrants really pisses me off.
I don't think it's unreasonable to expect our government to be responsible stewards of the funds with which they are entrusted. Given the pool of money isn't big enough to do everything we'd like to do, there have to be priorities. Taking care of the citizens of this country ... the tax-paying citizens .... the poor, but non-taxpaying citizens .... retired citizens ... the men and women in the military ... the 47 million LEGAL residents who don't have any insurance .... THIS should be where our priorites are set.
Where did I miss the law that said it's okay for our elected and unelected officials to support illegal activity? Isn't it another form of aiding and abetting? If I support illegal activity, I fully expect to be charged with a crime. Why is this even a debate when the law is clear? Illegal means "against the law" ... "not allowed." There are people in our country who are breaking the law, yet we're still having conversation about what to do about it. This makes me livid.
Here's a thought -- send them home. On boats, planes, trains, foot .... who cares. Send them home. Sure, they can come back .... but not until they follow the legal processes for immigration into our country. (What the hell, I can't even come back home from the Caribbean without spending $100 on a passport ... and I'm a citizen!) If you are here illegally, you are a drain on our economy, a risk to our national security, and you are certainly not entitled to any material benefits paid by our government.
Let me first say, I'm not against immigration. But there are legal ways to enter, stay and become a citizen of this country. People who follow the legal process should be supported -- people who do not should be sent home. Immediately. Don't pass go, don't collect $200. Just go home. Don't even stop at one of our jails, just go home.
Giving jobs to illegal immigrants is nothing more than off-shoring jobs for cheap labor. It takes jobs from Americans (and legal immigrants) who want and need them. It's a form of tax evasion -- which is illegal. It sucks money out of our economy and puts nothing back in. I have to pay income taxes, so why shouldn't an illegal immigrant earning an income in our country -- is it because we have no way to track their presence here ... no way to track and charge them because they have no social security number or legal identification ... because employers don't report them on their payroll?? It's bullshit.
Any candidate(s) who thinks I, as a taxpayer, am willing to pay for the healthcare of an illegal immigrant should probably shop elsewhere for a vote. (By the way, I'm an independent who changes party registration based on whichever primary I want to vote in.) I'm already paying for my healthcare and the care of people on Medicare and welfare. And I'm paying a lot. So are you. To think that any of my legally, hard-earned money or any of our government's money will go to pay for healthcare, housing, financial aid for illegal immigrants really pisses me off.
I don't think it's unreasonable to expect our government to be responsible stewards of the funds with which they are entrusted. Given the pool of money isn't big enough to do everything we'd like to do, there have to be priorities. Taking care of the citizens of this country ... the tax-paying citizens .... the poor, but non-taxpaying citizens .... retired citizens ... the men and women in the military ... the 47 million LEGAL residents who don't have any insurance .... THIS should be where our priorites are set.
Where did I miss the law that said it's okay for our elected and unelected officials to support illegal activity? Isn't it another form of aiding and abetting? If I support illegal activity, I fully expect to be charged with a crime. Why is this even a debate when the law is clear? Illegal means "against the law" ... "not allowed." There are people in our country who are breaking the law, yet we're still having conversation about what to do about it. This makes me livid.
Here's a thought -- send them home. On boats, planes, trains, foot .... who cares. Send them home. Sure, they can come back .... but not until they follow the legal processes for immigration into our country. (What the hell, I can't even come back home from the Caribbean without spending $100 on a passport ... and I'm a citizen!) If you are here illegally, you are a drain on our economy, a risk to our national security, and you are certainly not entitled to any material benefits paid by our government.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Play Footsie? I don't think so!
It's almost time for everyone to bare their toes, which means I'm gearing up for months of being grossed out. Feet are NOT my thing, to say the least. When I was in college, I did the "visual accessories" assignment for my Speech Communications class about the "Top 10 Things I Hate About Feet." I was just reminded of the upcoming season of visual atrocities by a commercial featuring a woman getting a pedicure. The thing that never fails to astonish me about women getting pedicures is they all look relaxed and appreciative of the pampering -- not just in a commercial, but in the real-life salons too!
How can this be?
When I go for a pedicure, I've got a death grip on the chair and it's all I can do not to kick the girl in the teeth. Having my toenails filed is NOT, in any way, relaxing. (Not to mention, I can't figure out why they insist on filing what's not even long enough to be filed.) I got an uncomfortable chill all over my body, just typing those words and visualizing the scene. The whole experience -- filing, heel shaving, foot scrubbing and tickling, cuticle scraping ... seeing the feet sitting in the chair next to me ... pictures hanging on the wall offending me with images of long toenails adorned with french pedicures and jewelry!!!
That's not luxury ... it's a torture chamber!!! YUCK YUCK YUCK!!! I will admit to enjoying the part where they massage your calves. But that's it.
Unfortunately, pedicures are a necessity if you ever want to wear a sandal ... which is pretty much the only kind of shoe around from May to September. Plus, who wants a sweaty foot trapped in an enclosed upper (leather or otherwise) when it's 100 degrees out? Those dogs need to BREATHE!!!
I already had to have one pedicure for vacation, but the bi-weekly routine is getting ready to start-up again. I'm dreading it. Nevertheless, out of respect for my fellow humans ... to save their eyeballs from the sprain caused by yet another pair of unsightly feet, I'll pull out my Joan-of-Arc costume and throw my feet on the sacrificial footrest.
Please tell me I'm not the only one out there who thinks pedicures are a skeevy experience!?!
How can this be?
When I go for a pedicure, I've got a death grip on the chair and it's all I can do not to kick the girl in the teeth. Having my toenails filed is NOT, in any way, relaxing. (Not to mention, I can't figure out why they insist on filing what's not even long enough to be filed.) I got an uncomfortable chill all over my body, just typing those words and visualizing the scene. The whole experience -- filing, heel shaving, foot scrubbing and tickling, cuticle scraping ... seeing the feet sitting in the chair next to me ... pictures hanging on the wall offending me with images of long toenails adorned with french pedicures and jewelry!!!
That's not luxury ... it's a torture chamber!!! YUCK YUCK YUCK!!! I will admit to enjoying the part where they massage your calves. But that's it.
Unfortunately, pedicures are a necessity if you ever want to wear a sandal ... which is pretty much the only kind of shoe around from May to September. Plus, who wants a sweaty foot trapped in an enclosed upper (leather or otherwise) when it's 100 degrees out? Those dogs need to BREATHE!!!
I already had to have one pedicure for vacation, but the bi-weekly routine is getting ready to start-up again. I'm dreading it. Nevertheless, out of respect for my fellow humans ... to save their eyeballs from the sprain caused by yet another pair of unsightly feet, I'll pull out my Joan-of-Arc costume and throw my feet on the sacrificial footrest.
Please tell me I'm not the only one out there who thinks pedicures are a skeevy experience!?!
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Citizen's Array-est!
OK, where's my Gomer Pyle (or Dwight Schrute) sheriff's badge??
Yesterday morning on the way to work I got behind a woman who caused an accident. I watched her creep through an intersection then swerve around the road. There was a whole convoy of cars behind her beeping ... at 7:30 in the morning, in the middle of South Philly. Now I know we're not known to be the most patient people on the planet, but I can't say I blame them. (And no, I wasn't beeping along with them.)
Now when you parallel park in the city, you get about 20-30 seconds -- tops -- before the beeps start. This woman spent a solid 2-3 minutes trying to parallel park before she got her SUV about 90% of the way into the space. Just as the car behind her was passing her she decided to pull out and ran right into the guy! What a tool!
So this doesn'tseem like such a shocking event in the city .... parallel parking and narrow streets can cause lots of mishaps. BUT ... this woman had her dog on her lap the whole time. Yes, the dog was in between her and the steering wheel with his head hanging out the window. I think that's what caught my eye from the start and why I kept watching. Unbelievable!
The guy she hit pulled over and as I went by he hadn't gotten out of his car yet. He looked like a big angry man, so I can only imagine the conversation that took place after I was long gone. Anyway, I don't know what got into me but as I passed this person I rolled down my window, slowed down and said to this dog-petting-while-driving woman: "Are you happy now, asshole? Put the dog in the backseat when you're driving!" And then I drove away.
I don't know what got into me, but if I could've given her a "Citizen's Array-est" ticket, I would have!
Yesterday morning on the way to work I got behind a woman who caused an accident. I watched her creep through an intersection then swerve around the road. There was a whole convoy of cars behind her beeping ... at 7:30 in the morning, in the middle of South Philly. Now I know we're not known to be the most patient people on the planet, but I can't say I blame them. (And no, I wasn't beeping along with them.)
Now when you parallel park in the city, you get about 20-30 seconds -- tops -- before the beeps start. This woman spent a solid 2-3 minutes trying to parallel park before she got her SUV about 90% of the way into the space. Just as the car behind her was passing her she decided to pull out and ran right into the guy! What a tool!
So this doesn'tseem like such a shocking event in the city .... parallel parking and narrow streets can cause lots of mishaps. BUT ... this woman had her dog on her lap the whole time. Yes, the dog was in between her and the steering wheel with his head hanging out the window. I think that's what caught my eye from the start and why I kept watching. Unbelievable!
The guy she hit pulled over and as I went by he hadn't gotten out of his car yet. He looked like a big angry man, so I can only imagine the conversation that took place after I was long gone. Anyway, I don't know what got into me but as I passed this person I rolled down my window, slowed down and said to this dog-petting-while-driving woman: "Are you happy now, asshole? Put the dog in the backseat when you're driving!" And then I drove away.
I don't know what got into me, but if I could've given her a "Citizen's Array-est" ticket, I would have!
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Sam
Hey boys and girls! Not much time to write lately - tis the time for spring cleaning and getting myself prepared for summer. Yes Baronness, I've nearly worked myself into a puddle of sweat! Alas, my house is clean and I'm on the right path ... I think.
Anyhow, I learned over the weekend that my friend Kate had to put her dear doggie, Digger, to sleep at the wayyy old age of 17 years. That' 119ish in people years! Can you imagine?? Anyway, Kate and her sister Maggie are dog lovers through and through, so I know Kate is heartbroken right now. I, personally, am not much of a dog person but grew up with dogs my whole life and know what it's like to lose a pet. Maggie and I were chatting yesterday via email, sharing dog stories.
In an attempt to be empathetic and interject a wee bit of humor (in my own bizarre way), I shared this story ....
I remember our second dog (a Scottish Terrier named Sam) and going with my parents when we had him put to sleep. I cried all day leading up to "the appointment" and through the whole thing, despite the fact that it was surprisingly peaceful. My parents wanted to bury Sam at our cabin in West Virginia, instead of just leaving him at the vet's office. So, after everything was donewe wrapped the dog up in a blanket, jumped in the car and drove home. Instead of putting him in the trunk (or the backseat with me .. .eww) my Mother cradled him in her arms in the front seat while my Dad drove and we all sobbed our way home.
Once we got home, I found out my Mother had prepared a special doggie coffin for him. It had all his favorite blankets and stuffed animals in it (plus she had given him a bath, sprayed him with cologne -yuck - and tied a bow around his neck ... like he was going to the prom or something!) Anyway, the doggie coffin was a cardboard file box and was in the trunk of their car. Just as we were all sobbing, standing around the trunk of the car watching my dad put the poor perfumed dead dog in the decorated cardboard box in the trunk of the car .... don't you know our neighbor rode up on her bike and shouted "hey, whatcha doing?" You should've seen the look of horror on this woman's face when she figured it out. She must've thought we were like the Addam's family of the neighborhood. Now we laugh about it ...... so typical of my bizarre family.
(P.S. - Am I odd for thinking that's humorous? Tell me some of your sick humor ... I know I'm not alone!)
(P.S.S. - I really did love that dog. He was our pet for 13 years and even starred in our high school production of "The Wiz." He was something of a hometown hero. I think the reason I'm not a dog person is because there'll never be another dog as great as Sam.)
Anyhow, I learned over the weekend that my friend Kate had to put her dear doggie, Digger, to sleep at the wayyy old age of 17 years. That' 119ish in people years! Can you imagine?? Anyway, Kate and her sister Maggie are dog lovers through and through, so I know Kate is heartbroken right now. I, personally, am not much of a dog person but grew up with dogs my whole life and know what it's like to lose a pet. Maggie and I were chatting yesterday via email, sharing dog stories.
In an attempt to be empathetic and interject a wee bit of humor (in my own bizarre way), I shared this story ....
I remember our second dog (a Scottish Terrier named Sam) and going with my parents when we had him put to sleep. I cried all day leading up to "the appointment" and through the whole thing, despite the fact that it was surprisingly peaceful. My parents wanted to bury Sam at our cabin in West Virginia, instead of just leaving him at the vet's office. So, after everything was donewe wrapped the dog up in a blanket, jumped in the car and drove home. Instead of putting him in the trunk (or the backseat with me .. .eww) my Mother cradled him in her arms in the front seat while my Dad drove and we all sobbed our way home.
Once we got home, I found out my Mother had prepared a special doggie coffin for him. It had all his favorite blankets and stuffed animals in it (plus she had given him a bath, sprayed him with cologne -yuck - and tied a bow around his neck ... like he was going to the prom or something!) Anyway, the doggie coffin was a cardboard file box and was in the trunk of their car. Just as we were all sobbing, standing around the trunk of the car watching my dad put the poor perfumed dead dog in the decorated cardboard box in the trunk of the car .... don't you know our neighbor rode up on her bike and shouted "hey, whatcha doing?" You should've seen the look of horror on this woman's face when she figured it out. She must've thought we were like the Addam's family of the neighborhood. Now we laugh about it ...... so typical of my bizarre family.
(P.S. - Am I odd for thinking that's humorous? Tell me some of your sick humor ... I know I'm not alone!)
(P.S.S. - I really did love that dog. He was our pet for 13 years and even starred in our high school production of "The Wiz." He was something of a hometown hero. I think the reason I'm not a dog person is because there'll never be another dog as great as Sam.)
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
My New Frontier
Despite my new found athleticism in Punta Cana, I managed to bring back a few extra pounds. No, not in my luggage ... on my ass. As usual. So, I've returned to my strict food regiment and went in search of some form of exercise that would be convenient, effective and non-suicidal. Believe it or not, I found it pretty quickly in one of my favorite places .... my television! Yes, Comcast On Demand has free exercise videos.
I've always been a fan of "On Demand" which is kind of like Pay-per-view, but with both free and pay programs. You can see all kinds of network and cable shows, in addition to movies. Usually I go there for back episodes of "Intervention" and documentaries, but on Monday morning I discovered the "Sport and Fitness"section.
Did I go for Billy Banks or Kathy Smith? No. Did I go for Pilates & Yoga? No. Mens Fitness? No. Here's what I've been up to this week:
Draw the blinds, pull the shades for these:
I've always been a fan of "On Demand" which is kind of like Pay-per-view, but with both free and pay programs. You can see all kinds of network and cable shows, in addition to movies. Usually I go there for back episodes of "Intervention" and documentaries, but on Monday morning I discovered the "Sport and Fitness"section.
Did I go for Billy Banks or Kathy Smith? No. Did I go for Pilates & Yoga? No. Mens Fitness? No. Here's what I've been up to this week:
- Cheerleader Legs
- Flirty Girl Fitness: Booty Beat
- Carmen Electra Hip Hop
- Bunny Bootcamp
Draw the blinds, pull the shades for these:
- Carmen Fit to Strip
- Sexy Chair Routine
- Ballet Butt
- Quick Ball Workout
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Will the Real Maryland Crab Cake Please Stand Up?
My favorite spring dinner menu is this:
Maryland Crab Cakes
Asparagus
Sliced Tomato (or tomato salad)
Aside from being beautiful on the plate and absolutely delicious, it's also done in 20 minutes and is healthy. And did I mention how fancy it is? As an extra added bonus, I'll share my secrets .... which are my grandmother's secrets. She grew up on the Eastern Shore of Maryland's Chesapeake Bay as a crab picker. Her crab cakes were the best thing I've ever tasted, without a doubt. I miss my dear Tilly!
(By the way, the picture isn't my crab cakes but that's what they should look like when done.)
Anyway, Tilly's recipe itself is no big secret ..... the real trick is in the handling of the crab meat. Let me enlighten you .....
- Crab cake recipe - follow the recipe on the side of the box of Old Bay, but cut bread to 1 slice instead of 2 slices.
- Use jumbo lump crab meat and do not break it up. If you really want to go for supreme taste and expense isn't an issue, throw in some back fin meat -- yep, that's right .... throw in some back fin meat (the cheap stuff) with your jumbo lump. The two mixed together make the best crab cake flavor. Be careful not to handle too much, and don't break up the lumps .. my lumps, my lovely crabby lumps!
- Form your crab cakes gently, pressing just enough to hold them together. Your not making a snowball, so don't mush it together like your getting ready to throw it. Gently press and put on your baking sheet.
- By the way, there are a few other tasty things you can do with this mixture:
- If you like balls, roll smaller for crab cake appetizers.
- Butterfly a couple of colossal shrimp and top with the crab mixture. Follow the same cooking instruction below. Serve one with a small filet for a super elegant and delicious surf n turf. (I made that with my risotto cakes and a caesar for Christmas dinner one year ... a huge hit. Sometime I'll share the risotto cake recipe -- not healthy, but a serious mouth party!)
- Back to the crab cakes!! I usually get 4-5 nice sized crab cakes out of a pound of crab meat. Be generous and don't worry about making them look like perfectly smooth frisbees or balls ... messed up edges taste just as good, and actually look more appetizing once done.
- Cook them under the broiler on one side for 10 minutes, until golden brown on top. No need to fry or dip in bread crumbs or whatever people who don't know how to make a crab cake do to their crab cakes. You'll also notice there are no peppers, onions or orange things hanging out of these crab cakes. When you see that stuff in your crab cake, you're eating a poseur.
- If you want to serve it like a serious Maryland native, get out the saltines and Worcestershire sauce. Don't overdo it ... they're just accents. And if you put ketchup on it, you should be shot. (Sorry Davey Dogs, but it's just WRONG!)
Tomato - Nuttin' beats a sliced red Jersey tomato, topped with a little salt n pepa. If you want to get a lil fancy, drizzle a little balsamic vinegar, a slice of fresh mozzarella and a few leaves of fresh basil. This is my favorite salad in the summer.
This is one of the fastest dinners you can make and is dinner-party quality. If you decide to try, let me know how it turns out.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Speedos, Mamajuana, and Peacock Poop
We're backkkkkkkk!!! I'll just jump right into some random vacation tidbits:
The Iberostar Bavaro in Punta Cana is a beautiful resort! Absolutely perfect in every way. I highly recommend.
Lots of boobs and speedos, just as I expected. I didn't, however, expect all of the boobs to be over 60 years old and over 300 pounds. And all the speedos to be on men who .... well, picture John Goodman in a speedo made for a guy the size of Jerry Seinfeld. One day at the beach bar, some old butt-ass naked lady came and plopped down at our table next to DD. She had 2 drinks and never said one word to us. Maybe because when she sat down DD said "Hey, get a picture of me with Miss February here!" I don't even know if she spoke English or not, but I felt quite violated.
I actually exercised on vacation! I took the aqua gym class every day at 11:30. Fun. Especially after an hour or so of mimosas and pina coladas.
There's a very popular drink in the Dominican Republic called "Mamajuana." It's rum that's been heavily infused with cinnamon, vanillia and other spices and is served on the rocks. Yum ... very delicious. Davey Dogs kept ordering Marijuwanna.
I also played beach volleyball one day. Basically, I suck but a bunch of strangers were nice enough to let me join the team for a game. I felt so sporty, and even though I never hit the ball once I did fall in the sand a few times trying.
Speaking of volleyball ..... we watched some kids playing volleyball one afternoon while we were lying on the beach. All the guys were wearing big flowery trunks ... it looked like a clothingadvertisement. Davey Dogs commented that they reminded him of the old "Jams" that were popular years ago. Then he made me laugh ... he told me his buddies use to make fun of him because he didn't have real Jams. They all teased him -- "Davey Dogs wears Spams."
Our airport shuttle never showed up to take us to the airport. We ended up taking a crazy cab ride. Hey, what vacation is complete without a crazy cab story? Our cab driver did a 45 minute ride in 25 minutes. We bump-drafted every car, truck, and motorcycle on the way to the airport. The car was at least 20 years old (the same as my parents' old 83 Toyota Tercel that I inherited when I was in college), and had no shocks. The road is barely paved and every time we hit a bump the bottom of the car scraped the road. I thought for sure we'd be powering our way to the airport ala Flinstones automotive technology.
The fresh fruit in Punta Cana is delicious, very succulent, and served for every meal ... and in every drink. Pack immodium (and lots of it) if you go.
We made the mistake of leaving a half-eaten plate of hors d'oevres on our balcony overnight. Bad mistake. The next morning, there was a giant peacock on the balcony who had dumped about 4 pounds of peacock poop .... likely containing the remants of our nachos, pizza and skewered mystery food. I feel bad for our cleaning lady.
If I ever figure out how to get the pictures off my digital camera and onto my computer, I'll post some for you to see. I'll warn you though .... the climate was humid and my hair took on a life all it's own. With my half tan/half burn and my big fuzzed out hair, I kind look like a bushwoman.
It's good to be back though, and I'm looking forward to getting caught up on reading all of your posts. Tell me, que pasa???
The Iberostar Bavaro in Punta Cana is a beautiful resort! Absolutely perfect in every way. I highly recommend.
Lots of boobs and speedos, just as I expected. I didn't, however, expect all of the boobs to be over 60 years old and over 300 pounds. And all the speedos to be on men who .... well, picture John Goodman in a speedo made for a guy the size of Jerry Seinfeld. One day at the beach bar, some old butt-ass naked lady came and plopped down at our table next to DD. She had 2 drinks and never said one word to us. Maybe because when she sat down DD said "Hey, get a picture of me with Miss February here!" I don't even know if she spoke English or not, but I felt quite violated.
I actually exercised on vacation! I took the aqua gym class every day at 11:30. Fun. Especially after an hour or so of mimosas and pina coladas.
There's a very popular drink in the Dominican Republic called "Mamajuana." It's rum that's been heavily infused with cinnamon, vanillia and other spices and is served on the rocks. Yum ... very delicious. Davey Dogs kept ordering Marijuwanna.
I also played beach volleyball one day. Basically, I suck but a bunch of strangers were nice enough to let me join the team for a game. I felt so sporty, and even though I never hit the ball once I did fall in the sand a few times trying.
Speaking of volleyball ..... we watched some kids playing volleyball one afternoon while we were lying on the beach. All the guys were wearing big flowery trunks ... it looked like a clothingadvertisement. Davey Dogs commented that they reminded him of the old "Jams" that were popular years ago. Then he made me laugh ... he told me his buddies use to make fun of him because he didn't have real Jams. They all teased him -- "Davey Dogs wears Spams."
Our airport shuttle never showed up to take us to the airport. We ended up taking a crazy cab ride. Hey, what vacation is complete without a crazy cab story? Our cab driver did a 45 minute ride in 25 minutes. We bump-drafted every car, truck, and motorcycle on the way to the airport. The car was at least 20 years old (the same as my parents' old 83 Toyota Tercel that I inherited when I was in college), and had no shocks. The road is barely paved and every time we hit a bump the bottom of the car scraped the road. I thought for sure we'd be powering our way to the airport ala Flinstones automotive technology.
The fresh fruit in Punta Cana is delicious, very succulent, and served for every meal ... and in every drink. Pack immodium (and lots of it) if you go.
We made the mistake of leaving a half-eaten plate of hors d'oevres on our balcony overnight. Bad mistake. The next morning, there was a giant peacock on the balcony who had dumped about 4 pounds of peacock poop .... likely containing the remants of our nachos, pizza and skewered mystery food. I feel bad for our cleaning lady.
If I ever figure out how to get the pictures off my digital camera and onto my computer, I'll post some for you to see. I'll warn you though .... the climate was humid and my hair took on a life all it's own. With my half tan/half burn and my big fuzzed out hair, I kind look like a bushwoman.
It's good to be back though, and I'm looking forward to getting caught up on reading all of your posts. Tell me, que pasa???
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Yum!
I have to tell you ... I just watched a replay of the Brett Favre press conference where he says "goodbye" to football. He and I both cried through the whole thing! I'm sitting here with make-up running down my face and my neck and shirt are soaked with tears. His is one seriously beautiful man -- inside and out. His wife is a lucky woman. And he's so hot I can hardly stand it.
Smothered Pork Chops
As promised, here's a fast, easy, delicious and healthy dinner for after work. Eat your heart out Rachel Ray ... I can cook my dinner in 20 minutes or less!! And did I mention they're mouth-watering delicious?!??!
A few caveats:
Boneless center-cut pork chops (meat fat grosses me out, so I buy the ones that are trimmed)
Salt n pepa (if you have McCormick's Garlic & Herb grilling rub, that's works nicely on these)
olive oil (1-2 tsps.)
1 large onion, sliced
1 red pepper, cut into slices (my cuts looks like a wide julienne)
1 clove minced garlic
1 big squirt of deli mustard (~2 tsps)
1/2 - 1 cup chicken broth
1 little blob of brown sugar (~1-2 tsps)
dash of curry powder (~1/4 tsp)
Preheat broiler.
While broiler is heating cut onion, pepper, and mince the garlic. Bring saute pan to medium heat, then drizzle just a little bit of olive oil in the pan. (If you use a nonstick pan, you don't need much olive oil at all -- maybe a scant 2 tsps.) Toss in the onion, pepper and garlic. Stir to coat the vegs with oil. Cook 2-3 mins, then add enough chicken broth to cover the bottom of the pan. Stir.
Salt n pepa your pork chops, then broil for 8 minutes.
When broth evaporates from onions and peppers, add a little more. This time stir in the mustard, brown sugar, and curry powder with the broth. (Note: if these ingredients freak you out you can skip them, but I promise it's not as gross as it sounds. It's a very tasty blend of slightly sweet and savory, and the curry is not hot.) Cover and cook until pork chop timer goes off.
Turn your porn chops over and cook for another 4 minutes.
Stir the onions/pepper. Cook uncovered for the remainder of the time. If they look like they're sticking, add just a little broth. If they're too soupy, turn up the heat to make the broth evaporate .... you want them to look carmelized.
When the timer's done, dinner's ready! Serve your pork chops topped with the onion/pepper mixture. My favorite sides for this dish are sweet potatoes and applesauce (of course ... thank you Peter Brady!). You can cut a sweet potato into manageable pieces (about the size of a lime), prick with a fork and cook in the microwave for 12 mins to speed the process. If you put them in right after you put the pork chops in the oven, everything will be timed perfectly.
As my friends, The Johns, say: "Enchoy!" Let me know how it works out if you try it.
P.S. - Also let me know if the instructions didn't work for you. I need to know so I can fix it. I don't wanna be giving out stinky recipes, ya know!?!?!?!
A few caveats:
- I don't measure, so don't be alarmed by my guesstimates. This recipe is nearly impossible to ruin.
- I'm also not a recipe writer, so I've added commentary to explain what I do. It doesn't read like a normal recipe -- then again, I'm rarely normal, so that shouldn't be surprising.
- You can make as many pork chops as you want/need. Increase or decrease veggies depending on how much you like on top of your pork chop.
Boneless center-cut pork chops (meat fat grosses me out, so I buy the ones that are trimmed)
Salt n pepa (if you have McCormick's Garlic & Herb grilling rub, that's works nicely on these)
olive oil (1-2 tsps.)
1 large onion, sliced
1 red pepper, cut into slices (my cuts looks like a wide julienne)
1 clove minced garlic
1 big squirt of deli mustard (~2 tsps)
1/2 - 1 cup chicken broth
1 little blob of brown sugar (~1-2 tsps)
dash of curry powder (~1/4 tsp)
Preheat broiler.
While broiler is heating cut onion, pepper, and mince the garlic. Bring saute pan to medium heat, then drizzle just a little bit of olive oil in the pan. (If you use a nonstick pan, you don't need much olive oil at all -- maybe a scant 2 tsps.) Toss in the onion, pepper and garlic. Stir to coat the vegs with oil. Cook 2-3 mins, then add enough chicken broth to cover the bottom of the pan. Stir.
Salt n pepa your pork chops, then broil for 8 minutes.
When broth evaporates from onions and peppers, add a little more. This time stir in the mustard, brown sugar, and curry powder with the broth. (Note: if these ingredients freak you out you can skip them, but I promise it's not as gross as it sounds. It's a very tasty blend of slightly sweet and savory, and the curry is not hot.) Cover and cook until pork chop timer goes off.
Turn your porn chops over and cook for another 4 minutes.
Stir the onions/pepper. Cook uncovered for the remainder of the time. If they look like they're sticking, add just a little broth. If they're too soupy, turn up the heat to make the broth evaporate .... you want them to look carmelized.
When the timer's done, dinner's ready! Serve your pork chops topped with the onion/pepper mixture. My favorite sides for this dish are sweet potatoes and applesauce (of course ... thank you Peter Brady!). You can cut a sweet potato into manageable pieces (about the size of a lime), prick with a fork and cook in the microwave for 12 mins to speed the process. If you put them in right after you put the pork chops in the oven, everything will be timed perfectly.
As my friends, The Johns, say: "Enchoy!" Let me know how it works out if you try it.
P.S. - Also let me know if the instructions didn't work for you. I need to know so I can fix it. I don't wanna be giving out stinky recipes, ya know!?!?!?!
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Dart Night
Tonight is dart night, and I'm looking forward to it!!! Let me share a little with you about our dart night .....
When I first moved into my neighborhood and Schue lived with me, we joined the co-ed dart league at our favorite corner bar so we could make some friends. It's almost 6 years later, and now she's happily married and living in the burbs, but we still manage to make it to dart night once in a while. When we do, it's so much fun!! I can pretty much guarantee, you'll never experience anything quite like it anywhere else. It's a one of a kind!!
First of all, everybody gets a nickname. One summer our team, "Team Four", almost won the championship. We didn't care that we didn't win .... we won the Fun Trophy! Our team consisted of: Lucky Bucky, Michael Motorcycle, Freddy Freddy Put it to Betty, Schue (oh no, I don't think she had a nickname!), and Captain Bubbles. This was the best team ever!!!!
Second ... it doesn't matter if you know what your doing or not. I remember one particular time when Maggie missed the Board about 10 times in a row. Once the dart flew past the board into the kitchen in the back of the bar. Another time the dart got stuck in a budweiser hockey mask hanging up near the ceiling next to a clock (nowhere near the board). I forget how it started, but somehow she ended up with the nickname "Frau Corkenheimer" ... and it stuck! She has gotten to be quite good since those days, but seriously ... it doesn't matter where you throw the dart as long as you don't hit anybody and you enjoy yourself. I love games where everyone is welcome!!
Now, don't let me fool you into thinking I'm not competitive. If I'm gonna play, I'm gonna try like hell to win. Luckily, I don't get upset if I lose. Like here --where The Bucketheads won (led by my friend Bucky.he's the tall one) and my team finished dead last ......
When I first moved into my neighborhood and Schue lived with me, we joined the co-ed dart league at our favorite corner bar so we could make some friends. It's almost 6 years later, and now she's happily married and living in the burbs, but we still manage to make it to dart night once in a while. When we do, it's so much fun!! I can pretty much guarantee, you'll never experience anything quite like it anywhere else. It's a one of a kind!!
First of all, everybody gets a nickname. One summer our team, "Team Four", almost won the championship. We didn't care that we didn't win .... we won the Fun Trophy! Our team consisted of: Lucky Bucky, Michael Motorcycle, Freddy Freddy Put it to Betty, Schue (oh no, I don't think she had a nickname!), and Captain Bubbles. This was the best team ever!!!!
Second ... it doesn't matter if you know what your doing or not. I remember one particular time when Maggie missed the Board about 10 times in a row. Once the dart flew past the board into the kitchen in the back of the bar. Another time the dart got stuck in a budweiser hockey mask hanging up near the ceiling next to a clock (nowhere near the board). I forget how it started, but somehow she ended up with the nickname "Frau Corkenheimer" ... and it stuck! She has gotten to be quite good since those days, but seriously ... it doesn't matter where you throw the dart as long as you don't hit anybody and you enjoy yourself. I love games where everyone is welcome!!
Now, don't let me fool you into thinking I'm not competitive. If I'm gonna play, I'm gonna try like hell to win. Luckily, I don't get upset if I lose. Like here --where The Bucketheads won (led by my friend Bucky.he's the tall one) and my team finished dead last ......
The Bucketheads: The Reigning Champs
Last year during our big Dart Finale Banquet Showdown Tournament, the losing team (my team) was awarded the prestigous Plunger Award. Yes, it was a big gigantic toilet statue. See ....
Michael Motorcycle holding the trophy.
We can make headdresses out of anything!
Anyway, it's a new dart season and this time I can only do it part time ... bummer. That just means I have to make the most of nights I can make it. Tonight is one of those nights, and I'm ready!!
So all of you neighborhood co-ed dart players, get your pom poms and earplugs ready ... Schue and I will be back tonight!!! We'll be cheering and rhyming in full force!!
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Today My Mood Is:
Lately, I've noticed an abundance of signs hanging around desks at work that say "Today my mood is:" ...and then there are a bunch of cartoon faces or sayings with a variety of expressions, and a movable frame that allows you to showcase your mood for the day. Maybe these little signs have been lurking around the office for years but I've just recently taken note, and it seriously seems like there's been a hatching.
I've also noticed that an overwhelming majority of people who have this sign hanging around their workspace also have the frame displaying their mood as "STRESSED!!"
For example, the person who sits outside my office proclaims on her cartoon face that she is "stressed." I know, for a fact, that she spends an hour in the morning eating breakfast, an hour ordering lunch for everyone in her department, she takes another hour at her desk to eat lunch and invites 3 others to squeeze into the cube with her, lots of time in the bathroom in the afternoon -- no surprise (btw, she announces she's going there ... that's how I know), then she spends time in the afternoon cooking popcorn for herself and sharing it with others (and it smells, by the way). My guess is, she doesn't have stress -- she has indigestion. If she's stressed it's over being "found out" that she doesn't do any work ... it can't possibly be her job that she isn't doing that's causing her stress.
Why is it so hard for people to say they are busy and still admit that they like their job? I'm not saying there's no such thing as job stress, but a little pressure and a required sense of urgency shouldn't be driving everyone, en masse, to the rooftops. I wonder if it's really true that sooo many people are completely stressed by their job, where they spend 40plus hours a week? I'd love to conduct a little experiment -- how much of this stress could be alleviated by approaching the day with a different attitude? You know, "busy" and "intense" don't have to be bad or stressful ... they are challenges, an exercise for the brain. Sometimes I think people have a strange addiction to feeling stressed at work, like it makes us feel our contributions are huge and we're always pushing ourselves to our greatest capacity.
I am going to challenge the notion of the chronically stressed workforce and say we probably manufacture most of our own stress. Furthermore, with a different attitude I think most would be better equipped to handle busy-ness and long "to do" lists. I mean, what's good about constantly feeling like you're living and working under some sort of duress ... so put upon you must express yourself through a scraggly cartoon face hanging on the wall? I also hear it in conversation: "How's it going today" Response .. "ughhhhhh." How about "busy, but not bad?" Personally, I think all of this outpouring of "stress" is really unhealthy and nothing more than a swamp of negativity.
Let's face it folks, work is ... well, work. We get paid to do it, maybe not as much as we like or as much as we think we should, but we're all at our jobs by choice. Maybe it's not an attractive choice to be somewhere (or nowhere) else, but we are there by choice. We can choose to leave or we can choose to find another job. Staying is also a choice. Complaining is also a choice. Why not suck it up .... don't just be a martyr and tryyyyyy to make the best of it, but try to truly enjoy it. If you can't, maybe you need to choose something else. This whole schtick of always being completely frazzled is really exhausting and unbecoming. And it's infectious, like a cancer. It's a big fun-sucker.
Am I weird for saying I actually like my job? In my opinion, my job is hard (brain taxing, not physically taxing), it's always busy, I have a lot of responsibility, and I have to travel sometimes when I don't want to. But truth be told, I wouldn't have it any other way. I don't need a passive aggressive cartoon to hang on my wall to elicit sympathy from others ... others who will comiserate endlessly with woeful tales of "how bad things are."
We don't have it bad. Sick, dying, homeless, poor people have it bad. People with mental illnesses have it bad. People in crisis have it bad. But having to show up and work somewhere everyday shouldn't automatically send us all to the brink of a nervous breakdown.
So if you've got one of those little doodads hanging in your workspace, check out where your frame is hanging and consider that you may actually be something other than stressed ... and if you are, keep it to yourself. Better yet, come up with a plan to get un-stressed. Next time somebody asks you "how it's going", consider some positive response ... something other than "ughhhh " or "I'm stressed" or "terrible." You, my friend, could be Mr. or Miz. Sunshine around the office ... and I say that is much better than being a frazzled out cartoon face who spreads misery.
OK, now you can tell me to go fug myself if you want, but you can't rattle me ... my cartoon face is wearing a smile.
I've also noticed that an overwhelming majority of people who have this sign hanging around their workspace also have the frame displaying their mood as "STRESSED!!"
For example, the person who sits outside my office proclaims on her cartoon face that she is "stressed." I know, for a fact, that she spends an hour in the morning eating breakfast, an hour ordering lunch for everyone in her department, she takes another hour at her desk to eat lunch and invites 3 others to squeeze into the cube with her, lots of time in the bathroom in the afternoon -- no surprise (btw, she announces she's going there ... that's how I know), then she spends time in the afternoon cooking popcorn for herself and sharing it with others (and it smells, by the way). My guess is, she doesn't have stress -- she has indigestion. If she's stressed it's over being "found out" that she doesn't do any work ... it can't possibly be her job that she isn't doing that's causing her stress.
Why is it so hard for people to say they are busy and still admit that they like their job? I'm not saying there's no such thing as job stress, but a little pressure and a required sense of urgency shouldn't be driving everyone, en masse, to the rooftops. I wonder if it's really true that sooo many people are completely stressed by their job, where they spend 40plus hours a week? I'd love to conduct a little experiment -- how much of this stress could be alleviated by approaching the day with a different attitude? You know, "busy" and "intense" don't have to be bad or stressful ... they are challenges, an exercise for the brain. Sometimes I think people have a strange addiction to feeling stressed at work, like it makes us feel our contributions are huge and we're always pushing ourselves to our greatest capacity.
I am going to challenge the notion of the chronically stressed workforce and say we probably manufacture most of our own stress. Furthermore, with a different attitude I think most would be better equipped to handle busy-ness and long "to do" lists. I mean, what's good about constantly feeling like you're living and working under some sort of duress ... so put upon you must express yourself through a scraggly cartoon face hanging on the wall? I also hear it in conversation: "How's it going today" Response .. "ughhhhhh." How about "busy, but not bad?" Personally, I think all of this outpouring of "stress" is really unhealthy and nothing more than a swamp of negativity.
Let's face it folks, work is ... well, work. We get paid to do it, maybe not as much as we like or as much as we think we should, but we're all at our jobs by choice. Maybe it's not an attractive choice to be somewhere (or nowhere) else, but we are there by choice. We can choose to leave or we can choose to find another job. Staying is also a choice. Complaining is also a choice. Why not suck it up .... don't just be a martyr and tryyyyyy to make the best of it, but try to truly enjoy it. If you can't, maybe you need to choose something else. This whole schtick of always being completely frazzled is really exhausting and unbecoming. And it's infectious, like a cancer. It's a big fun-sucker.
Am I weird for saying I actually like my job? In my opinion, my job is hard (brain taxing, not physically taxing), it's always busy, I have a lot of responsibility, and I have to travel sometimes when I don't want to. But truth be told, I wouldn't have it any other way. I don't need a passive aggressive cartoon to hang on my wall to elicit sympathy from others ... others who will comiserate endlessly with woeful tales of "how bad things are."
We don't have it bad. Sick, dying, homeless, poor people have it bad. People with mental illnesses have it bad. People in crisis have it bad. But having to show up and work somewhere everyday shouldn't automatically send us all to the brink of a nervous breakdown.
So if you've got one of those little doodads hanging in your workspace, check out where your frame is hanging and consider that you may actually be something other than stressed ... and if you are, keep it to yourself. Better yet, come up with a plan to get un-stressed. Next time somebody asks you "how it's going", consider some positive response ... something other than "ughhhh " or "I'm stressed" or "terrible." You, my friend, could be Mr. or Miz. Sunshine around the office ... and I say that is much better than being a frazzled out cartoon face who spreads misery.
OK, now you can tell me to go fug myself if you want, but you can't rattle me ... my cartoon face is wearing a smile.
Monday, March 3, 2008
A Random Monday
Hey, I'm still here!! It's been a bizzy bizzy month, with not much time to read or write things not pertaining to work (unfartunately), but I wanted to take a quick minute to drop a little randomness your way:
Countdown for mission: Punta Cana is on! One week from today, DD and I will be departing for our vacation. If I don't soon find a bathing suit, I'll be wearing my birfday suit. Ew!
Speaking of ew, there's a European beach at our resort. To me, that means boobs and speedos. I don't know which is worse, being surrounded by naked young supermodels making me feel totally inadequate, or a bunch of old hairy fat men in speedos with their big saggy wives wearing well .... the same. I'm not lookin forward to either, but I have to say I think I'll take the latter. Is something wrong with me? Probably.
The news reported a story this morning: "Plot uncovered to murder Mick Jagger." I was completely riveted and have practically made myself late for work trying to hear the story. You know what I learned? There was a plot back in 1969 .... yes, almost 40 friggin years ago ... to kill him after something happened at a concert with a motorcycle gang. 40 YEARS AGO!!! This a headline news story this morning. I feel cheated. (although I'm glad there's no real plot)
This presidential election gets weirder and weirder as each day passes. I am completely baffled by our bizarre primary system of caucuses, elections, and super/nonsuper delegates ... and why does it have to take 4 months to pick a party candidate? Why can't we just have one primary election on one day that decides it? Seriously, I thought I was the queen of making things more difficult than they have to be, but I've got nothing on our political system.
I just got my Passport back. I'm not sure what happened to my photo between the CVS digital camera and the Passport agency, but I went from looking like a cute girl having a good hair day to a massive pumpkin-head taking too much human growth hormone. How can this be? Now I'm stuck with it for 10 years.
I needed DD's parent's phone number for something the other day and he started off by telling me "H-O-...." I said, "No, their PHONE number." Again, he said "H- O ...." and a bunch of numbers. I barely remember this, but back in the olden days people used to have phone numbers with letters in them. I finally got the numbers from him, but I'm certain that my old soul of a boyfriend will never give up the old way.
I never did catch a mouse in my house. I put down traps, loaded them with a nice piece of Asiago (I assume my rodents have a refined palate if they're coming into my house) ... and nothing. No evidence of doodies, the cheese is still there, and no sightings in general. I guess that's a good thing. Am picking up the traps and putting them away in the basement, hopefully never to really need them.
Alrighty, it's time to get to work. By the way, I've heard a few people mention an interest in fast, easy, and delicious recipes lately. I've got a few in my repertoire (beyond, "hey, how about a grilled chicken breast) that'll I'll post later on this week. In the meantime, I'll be catching up on all of your posts ... am wayyyy behind.
Have a good day .. feel free to drop a quick comment to let me know what kind of random craziness is going on in your life .....
Countdown for mission: Punta Cana is on! One week from today, DD and I will be departing for our vacation. If I don't soon find a bathing suit, I'll be wearing my birfday suit. Ew!
Speaking of ew, there's a European beach at our resort. To me, that means boobs and speedos. I don't know which is worse, being surrounded by naked young supermodels making me feel totally inadequate, or a bunch of old hairy fat men in speedos with their big saggy wives wearing well .... the same. I'm not lookin forward to either, but I have to say I think I'll take the latter. Is something wrong with me? Probably.
The news reported a story this morning: "Plot uncovered to murder Mick Jagger." I was completely riveted and have practically made myself late for work trying to hear the story. You know what I learned? There was a plot back in 1969 .... yes, almost 40 friggin years ago ... to kill him after something happened at a concert with a motorcycle gang. 40 YEARS AGO!!! This a headline news story this morning. I feel cheated. (although I'm glad there's no real plot)
This presidential election gets weirder and weirder as each day passes. I am completely baffled by our bizarre primary system of caucuses, elections, and super/nonsuper delegates ... and why does it have to take 4 months to pick a party candidate? Why can't we just have one primary election on one day that decides it? Seriously, I thought I was the queen of making things more difficult than they have to be, but I've got nothing on our political system.
I just got my Passport back. I'm not sure what happened to my photo between the CVS digital camera and the Passport agency, but I went from looking like a cute girl having a good hair day to a massive pumpkin-head taking too much human growth hormone. How can this be? Now I'm stuck with it for 10 years.
I needed DD's parent's phone number for something the other day and he started off by telling me "H-O-...." I said, "No, their PHONE number." Again, he said "H- O ...." and a bunch of numbers. I barely remember this, but back in the olden days people used to have phone numbers with letters in them. I finally got the numbers from him, but I'm certain that my old soul of a boyfriend will never give up the old way.
I never did catch a mouse in my house. I put down traps, loaded them with a nice piece of Asiago (I assume my rodents have a refined palate if they're coming into my house) ... and nothing. No evidence of doodies, the cheese is still there, and no sightings in general. I guess that's a good thing. Am picking up the traps and putting them away in the basement, hopefully never to really need them.
Alrighty, it's time to get to work. By the way, I've heard a few people mention an interest in fast, easy, and delicious recipes lately. I've got a few in my repertoire (beyond, "hey, how about a grilled chicken breast) that'll I'll post later on this week. In the meantime, I'll be catching up on all of your posts ... am wayyyy behind.
Have a good day .. feel free to drop a quick comment to let me know what kind of random craziness is going on in your life .....
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