Alcoholics Anonymous

Like many other people, I had preconceived notions about the program of AA before I got sober. I thought it was cultish. I assumed it was just a substitute addiction for folks and a crutch. I thought that while it pretended to support all spiritual beliefs, it was a highly Christian leaning organization that I would never be able to relate to. Well, I can admit that I was wrong.

Now, I'm not saying there aren't people who have made AA a whole 'nother codependent place to be unhealthy. There definitely are. There are assholes in AA just like larger society. There are bible thumpers, and people who I most certainly don't aspire to be like. It is a microcosm of society in general and as such, there are going to be people in the program that I just don't get. The difference is, that even the biggest asshole in AA, is better than most people I encounter outside the rooms.

I have often said that everyone would benefit from a 12 step program of some sort. If you really do the work, it does so much more than just keep you from drinking. I have grown in so many ways with my involvement in the recovery community. Ways that I never would have imagined when I was out there drinking.

I am way more honest than I ever was. I simply don't lie. I think that lying is an energy suck and a waste of time. Keeping up with lies requires a skill and effort that, although I was good at it, I simply don't have the time to spend on it anymore. So I simply don't do it. Often times when a friend asks a question or for advice I first say, "Do you really want to know the answer to that, or what I think? Because if you're just looking for someone to agree with you, or a yes man, feel free to retract your request for advice." I don't sugar coat things, and I'm very up front. I don't lie to my boyfriend, or any of my friends about things relating to our relationship, or how I feel about them. When they make me mad, they know it. I also am working on not giving unwarranted advice. If someone is venting to you, don't tell them what you think unless they asked. No one cares what you think about their relationship situation, unless they've specifically told you so. This I find, is the hardest one to do. When I catch myself saying, "Well, I would do this..." I try to then say, "How arrogant of me. Who cares what I would do? What do you think your next steps will be?"

In the program is where I found Buddhism and meditation in ways which I was never able to explore before. Because of this my anxiety and OCD issues have improved drastically. If I want to skip a week of mopping and go do something on a Sunday, I can do so and not freak out the whole next week about how dirty the floors are. I can go to a crowded store to shop, whereas before I would almost stop breathing if there were too many people in the space around me.

For me, AA is a place I can go and be 100% myself, and know that I will be supported. Although I feel that in the outside world on occasion, I ALWAYS feel it at a meeting. Last night I drove out to Elk Grove to my old home group, and it was exactly what I needed to adjust my attitude. It helps me realize that as humans, not just as addicts/alcoholics, we have far more similarities than differences.

I am totally honest about the fact that I occasionally go to bars, and have even been known to take friends on pub crawls to places they usually wouldn't be able to get out to, because they can't drink and drive. I used to be a huge drunk driver. I did it 100s of times and it landed me in jail. I am hoping I never drunk drive again. My friends that drink are really fun to be around when drinking, and I know that they are not alcoholics like I am. I enjoy occasionally hanging out at bars and places where most folks in recovery think you should not go. It works for me. So I'm workin' it.

I like that I found a place that will help me to stay sober. I know I can't do it alone. The thing I'm working on now is really reaching out when I need help. I have a hard time with it. I feel like at this point I should be able to self soothe. I should be able to handle stuff without having to burden those around me when I can't stop crying, or I am so mad I want to rip someone's throat out. (Ooh, I just thought of Mortal Kombat when I wrote that. I miss that game). I know my friends and my sponsor are there for me if I could just pick up the phone and utter the words, "Hey, I need you right now." I'm working on it. I'll probably be working on it 'til the day I die.

I am not ashamed that I am an alcoholic. I don't blurt it out inappropriately, but I do bring it up when conversation warrants. I think it's important to let people know that I'm not just not drinking because I'm the DD. I'm not drinking because I CAN'T drink. This made me very angry at first. I felt like a first grader wanting to stomp my feet and say, "This isn't fair!" But life's not fair. The things that I have achieved in the last two years and ten months have surpassed anything I ever thought my life would be like. I honestly thought I'd be dead by now, and the sad thing is, I was totally okay with that. Now I'm happy that I get to stick around to annoy people for many, many more years.



Happy picture of the day: I took this on the walk in to work the other day. It just looked so pretty. It also reminded me of Alfred Hitchcock.

Please don't poop on my head.

Movies

I had planned on writing an amazing post about how movies can change your mood for weeks when done correctly, but as I barely slept last night, and I am freaking out about a work laptop I brought home to prep for interviews today not letting me log in, I'm going to just put links to some recommendations. Some are old, some are new. All are movies I think everyone needs to see.

Shallow Grave:
This movie needs to be watched about 10 times before you'll get all the one-liners and black humor. One of Danny Boyle's finest. That's a heavy thing to say, seeing as how Danny Boyle has made some of the best movies in the past two decades.

Se7en
You'd probably have to live in a cave not to have seen this, but it's one of the best suspense films of our generation.

It's Kind of a Funny Story
I think this movie was really underrated, as was 500 Days of Summer. Both feel good, in a not punch you in the face with happy sort of way. Plus, both have soundtracks worthy of a mention.

Breakfast At Tiffany's
If you have not yet seen this movie I advise you to call in sick and watch it immediately. Really, rent this one with Sabrina (the original of course), and Roman Holiday and make a day of it.

Arthur
I detest pretty much all remakes that are ruining my childhood loves. Come up with some original thought Hollywood! I will never see the remake of this, because Dudley Moore IS Arthur. Plus, it has Liza Minnelli in it. 'Nuff said.

I Like Killing Flies
I have probably watched 100 documentaries in the last few years. This one I still remember like it was yesterday. Probably because my dream in life is to own a grilled cheese diner/dive bar where my servers are allowed to tell off any customer being a douche.

Chungking Express
Really, this is another one that is a favorite director of mine. You should pretty much see everything he's ever touched. The man is a genius. If you loathe subtitles, he has one American movie. I believe it's called Blueberry Nights with Nora Jones. Not one of his best works, but still great.

Sukiyaki Western Django
A more lighthearted offering from the man who brought you such classics as Audition, and Ichi The Killer. I would also highly recommend Zebraman. Good stuff.

I am a movie fanatic who watches at least four movies a week so this barely scratches the surface. I am addicted to all of the great mafia films, anything about serial killers, and I love directors who do off the wall stuff. Feel free to recommend any movies you think I need to see, or email me for more recs. Have a great day everyone!

Happy picture of the day: me at a sunset rave in '95 or '96. I do not regret those years of tons of drugs and barely making it to college classes. Dancing for hours on end, and meeting a lot of amazing folks is something you just can't regret.

Sunday Post

I usually take Sunday off, but since Monday's post is about movies and nothing at all about how this weekend has been for me, I just wanted to get some stuff off my chest. This blog is like my journal and I want it to represent the good AND the bad. Today's will be the bad.

I have spent the last two days erupting in to random crying fits. It all started when my boyfriend took pics of me yesterday morning for a project I'm going to be doing, sending my baby blue furry coat around the country a la Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. I always have a hard time having my picture taken, but I much prefer candid shots. Posing for pictures is really hard for me, because I know I'm not going to like what I see for the most part. I see myself as a spunky, vivacious gal full of life. I photograph most of the time as an ugly fat girl. The girl I saw in the viewfinder made me cry. I was able to hold it in 'til the boyfriend left a few hours after taking the pictures, but the thought of them has been making me cry all weekend. I'm even crying again right now. He showed me those pictures and I could stand 2 out of 10 of them. The rest I wanted to scream, "That is not me! I do not feel like I have that belly! I do not feel like I have that chin!" But I must, right? It's a camera, not a carnival mirror.

What makes me the most sad about it is I always think when I'm out people must see me how I see myself: a funny gal with a glow to her who has the knack for bringing a smile to people's faces. The girl who can do an hour workout with a 20 pound kettlebell and 15 pound barbells. The lady who fought through a lot and now is well on her way to actually having her shit together. But when I see the pics all I think is: is this how people really see me? The gut and the hangy chin and the sausage fingers? I know it's my perception, which I fear will never be healthy. Even when I WAS that super cute girl, I never appreciated it like I appreciate myself now. Why did I hate the soccer player with the muscly legs so? Why did it take so much work for me to get comfortable in the skin I'm in, then one thing can turn it all around even if only for a day or two, and make me hate myself with a vigor that scares me?

I know this will pass. I know that it has way more to do with the fact that life is going well and there's that sick part of me that doesn't think I deserve it. But right now I just want to curl up in a ball and punch myself in the face so that I can feel something other than this sadness.

I also feel horrible because how unfair is it that I have a boyfriend, who's a photographer, who I can barely allow to point his camera at me? The part I left out about the SF trip was him pulling his camera out when I was in the motel bed, and me flipping him off and hiding under the covers because I didn't want him to take my picture. He has so many ideas for photo shoots he wants to do with me. He finds me attractive. I've told him, "Yes, let's do that!" but I am so afraid when I actually do, I'll feel like this again.

I am working so hard to just accept that this is how I look. I don't want to be a 70 year old woman who says, "I was so cute in my 30s" as I am the 37 year old who says, "I was so cute in my 20s." I want to feel that way now, dammit! Truth be told, sometimes I do. Just not today. Most of the time I feel like I look like this. I like this Melanie.

I realize you can see my bra. I don't crop or photoshop pics. Plus, I'm hella classy so a bra showing kinda fits.

This is what I REALLY look like every day. I like this Melanie too. She has a fuller face, and a weird chin going on, but she's okay. I don't need to cry over her anymore. Not to say I won't, but I know I don't need to.

I make kissy faces at the cats. I can totally admit that.

I didn't want to let this pass and write a post tomorrow about movies. I want this blog to be an honest portrayal of me. A journal of sorts. I need to not be afraid to post when I feel like crap. Today, for the moment, I feel like crap.

Activism

When I was younger you could see me with a group of folks, sign in hand, marching through McDonald's telling the patrons how they should be ashamed of themselves. My activism has changed drastically since then. I no longer believe in the activism that is used in an attempt to shame others. I believe in the small acts that one does to truly make a difference, as small as that difference might be. Everyone can do something little, every day, to make this world a better place.

I am lucky in that the organization I work with offers a pre-tax donation every month to the organization of my choice. I don't even notice the money I give to a local animal shelter. It's nice that I can do something and not feel like my pocket book is being emptied. If you can give a little, or drop off some food, or foster an animal, you are making a world of difference. If giving money is all you can do I encourage you to. For me, it's not enough.

I don't use plastic bags when grocery shopping and think that stores should stop carrying them. I got this idea when I went to Germany years back and noticed that people were carrying in baskets, and cloth bags. I learned that Germany does not supply disposable bags to customers. I think we would be well served to do the same. I also have cloth napkins in my home. I am not going to say I never use napkins or paper towels, 'cause I do. But I think even cutting back a little, is something.

I told my realtor when I was looking for a home that I needed to be within 5 miles of midtown Sacramento. This has helped because I can ride my bike to work if I choose (which I've only done twice. I'm lame) and my monthly gas use is decreased dramatically as my commute is very short.

When I see things happening around my neighborhood that I am concerned with, I contact my city representative or I take matters in to my own hands by going and talking to folks who I think might be doing something that is not positive for where I live. A while back I did this: Keep Midtown Janky.

I completely and totally believe in grass roots activism. I believe that anyone can do something small that they believe in and make a difference. Just cutting down your red meat consumption, and knowing where your food comes from, can make a huge impact on the world. You don't need to be a millionaire, or make a grand gesture, to make a difference. Activism can be, "Today, I will try and brighten the mood of everyone I come in to contact with." Starting a ripple effect can make a difference.

I just wrote this because I know that sometimes we look around and this world seems hopeless. The way that things are might get depressing and hard to digest. But if you as a person just keep your chin up, and do what you can in your immediate world to make a difference, I really believe that difference will be felt by those around you to such a degree, that you truly do make a difference in the bigger picture.

Now, I will be the first to admit my obsessive behaviors totally negate some of my hippy habits. I use Clorox wipes once a week on every surface in my house. Wasteful and unnecessary if you think about it logically. Completely necessary so that I feel comfortable in my own home. Every day my cat box gets cleaned and the litter goes in to a disposable grocery bag that I get people at work to bring to me. So although I'm not using my own bags, I'm still using a plastic bag, every day, for litter. I tried just throwing the litter in the kitchen garbage without its own plastic bag. I couldn't do it. It caused me so much anxiety I cried for days and came to the conclusion that I can only do what I can do. No one is perfect. Just do what you can, every day, so that your world is a place you are proud of.

Today's happy picture is me dressed up ridiculously, with crazy make up on, to go see Xanadu, The Musical. We had so much fun that night being stared at at dinner. Also, one of the cast members was so excited we dressed up he took our picture and sent it backstage to one of the other folks in the chorus. There were very few of us dressed up, but the folks that were made the cast very happy.

Work Peeves

If I ran my Agency, things would be a little different. I would give supervisors the right to send people home without pay for the day, for so many reasons. I would also fire about 1/4 of the work force who sit around all day on the internet, while claiming they don't have time to finish their projects. I'm going to go ahead and include my short commute time peeves on this one too.

1. It is never okay to trim your nails at your desk.

2. If you can't make a meeting/training in the first 15 minutes, don't go. Get the talking points from someone else who attended, or attend the next scheduled meeting on said topic.

3. If you are at a meeting on your iPhone/Blackberry texting and checking email the whole time, the team leader should be able to call you out by name, then cross your name off the sign in sheet. You weren't really there, if you were playing on your phone the whole time. Now I get some people have to check the occasional message while in a meeting, but you can tell those people from the ones that are just being jackholes. If you don't want to be at a meeting, don't be.

4. Clean up after yourself in shared workspace. If you removed staples, throw them out. If you used the microwave and things splattered, wipe it up. Your dirty dishes should not be left on the counter. It is not okay to bring a month's worth of food at a time, and take up all the room in the fridge.

5. I don't care how much you don't like a co-worker, you never have the right to be downright rude to someone, or belittling.

6. This is an office. Dress like it. We don't have a dress code but that doesn't mean sweats or leggings as pants are appropriate. Folks who dress like this are also the ones who complain they aren't promoting. Get this: the world is not fair, you are judged on your appearance. Dress for the job you want, not that job you have.

7. I won't mind your business if you don't mind mine. I don't care how late you come in, how long a lunch you take, how many personal phone calls you're on, or how early you leave. However, I am observant. If you try and throw me under the bus I will bring up that I find it hard for you to know how I filed something, since you were on a 2 1/2 hour personal phone call about how your daughter keeps skipping school.

8. Just because I eat lunch at my desk, does not mean I do not deserve the one hour lunch break that everyone else gets. At my old job I had a small white board where I wrote, "Lunch" or "Break." Here, I don't have that, but I do have a voice that will turn and say, "I'm actually on my lunch right now but if you shoot me an email I'll get to that when I'm back on the clock."

9. It is fine to decorate and make your cubicle your own. It is not a proper place to proclaim your love for the Lord Jesus, or put pictures up of your premature baby as a sad cry for attention. There was actually a woman who had a huge Jesus poster, and like 50 crosses at her desk. So we started genuflecting when we walked by. It seemed only appropriate.

10. If someone calls it is never okay to say, "That's not my job." You find out a contact and send the person along to who can help them. I have actually overheard people say, "Our division doesn't handle that" and hang up. Seriously?

11. It is not okay to text, eat, put on make up, or anything else while driving. Get up earlier and get what you need done before you get behind the wheel. NO ONE is good at texting and driving. I used to always call "drunk driver" but now half of the time it's "texting driver." Seriously, I kind of get just writing "driving" while at a stop sign or something, but that's it. No conversation is that important.

12. There is very little free parking space downtown. Park accordingly. Pull up close enough to the car in front of you to leave room for optimum parking, but leave enough room in case the asshat behind you parks on your bumper. I actually had that happen once and left a nice little note. "If you ever park that close to my car again, you're going to come back to a vehicle with no windows."

Okay, I'm done for now. I do super annoying things at work too I'm sure. For one, I'm really blunt and don't beat around the bush or sugar coat things. I also don't attend most work potlucks or parties. Especially if I don't know the person the party is for very well. I think that kind of stuff is weird.

Happy picture of the day: my knife magnet which houses two extraordinarily amazing knives, and one USS Enterprise pizza cutter.

Update: I came back from my power walk around the Capitol I do every day, to find this. I have a co-worker that reads my blog.

I do work with some people who aren't jackelopes. :)

Fashion

I can dig it. I like to watch Project Runway, and I swear that one day I will own a custom made Chanel suit. What I really dig is when people are wearing what they truly love. What I can't dig is trends, and following them. I sometimes think there are women out there who if they were told, "This month it is fabulous to rub the shit of a small dog on your t-shirts," they would do it. There is nothing more ridiculous to me than seeing a gaggle of girls in black jeans, with scrunchy brown boots, who you know wouldn't be wearing that if they hadn't seen someone "important" do it first. There will never be any excuse for Crocs or Uggs, especially Uggs with a short jean skirt in summer. Now, I have friends who wear Crocs. They're in their 50s, so they get a pass. And I wouldn't tell someone they can't wear something. If you like something, by all means wear it. Just know that if you are wearing something because a magazine told you to, and you don't really "feel" said item, people know what you're doing.

I have never been fashionable, or stylish. I have always been true to myself. In seventh grade true to myself meant wearing a pair of Hammer pants. What? No one else had Hammer pants! Those things were comfy, and hideous. Most of my junior high and high school style was hideous on purpose. The uglier the better. That still ties in to a lot of what I wear today. I like whimsy and kitsch. Let's take a look shall we?

This is my favorite skirt. I saw the print and had to have it. 

I have an admitted addiction to cardigans, and ridiculous sweaters.



I got this at Goodwill in like '90. It was a dollar.

What do you mean you don't have a holiday sweater featuring the lead singer of The Smiths?

I wear shirts that say mean stuff, so I don't have to.



Seriously, put on earbuds. I don't care to hear Nate Dogg coming out of your cell phone.

I have three pairs of high heels. One is called a "zombie stomper" and has green skin and monster teeth all over it. Another pair has a heel made of a brass knuckle. The most normal pair is this pair by Rachel Roy. Pretty!



They're covered in different sized beads, and the heel is made of spikes.

Pretty much all of the dresses I wear are '50s, or '60s inspired. I like actual vintage, but unfortunately it seems that all the chubby women of that era were buried in their dresses, as all I can find is size 4. I'm not opposed to repro wear.



I got this from ModCloth. One of the few things they've carried in my size. It really needs a powder pink petticoat.

I love costume jewelry. The gaudier the better. But I do have a few understated pieces for when I go on nice dinner dates and such. I'm a classy bitch.

I get most of my jewelry at flea markets and Claire's. I love me some cheap jewelry.

I used to have over 100 purses. I realized that was absurd and gifted or sold them off for 10 bucks each. I have about 15 left. I love Kate Spade, but I have found I do not love the attention carrying a name brand handbag garners. I have had two pricey purses in my time, and gave both away. I like cheap and cute now.



The Audrey Hepburn cigar box purse holds next to nothing, but is so cute it's okay. Same with that clutch. I got the clutch at a store in Dallas that catered to strippers. You know, clear bottomed shoes and all. I want to see a stripper on the pole, holding a clutch, dammit!

I could do a weekly blog post about stuff I've seen on people that is adorable. And I spared you my baby blue Huggy Bear pimp coat that will soon be doing a Traveling Pants-like trek around the country, 'cause that'll be its own entry next week some time.

I must admit today at work I am wearing boring stuff. Most of the stuff I wear to the office, I wouldn't be caught dead in after work hours. But who am I kidding? After work hours I'm usually in pajama pants and fuzzy socks watching bad television.

Wear what you love, and make no apologies for it. Even if it's Uggs and a short jean mini in 100 degree weather.

Art

It's a totally subjective thing. A lot of art that most people like, I do not care for. I like low brow, and street art the most. I like some of the classic folks like Frida Kahlo, Salvador Dali, and MC Escher. I like photographers like Diane Arbus, Julius Shulman, and Irving Penn. I respect all art where I look at it, and I feel like art chose the person, not the other way around. The one thing I've noticed is that the art I am most drawn to, when I meet the artist they totally lack pretention. They do what they do because they love it. Most of them are downright humble and don't know how people love what they do. Those folks to me, are the true artists. If you like street art and haven't seen this documentary yet, I highly recommend it: Beautiful Losers

I went all the way to Fort Worth, so I could see his stuff in person: Article by Bored Panda, on Ron Mueck

I am truly blessed to have friends who paint stuff for me: Robert Bowen

This is the cabinet he did for me.

This fella is more an acquaintance than a friend, and he's so busy I wasn't going to ask him to do a cabinet, but we hung out last new year's and he was like, "Where's my cabinet door?" So he got one. Skinner



I of course have to give respect to the nerd side of the force.



And I kinda love me some carnival mirrors.



My friend Hilary sent this one with a whole description how this man was selling hearts, in case yours got lost or broken.



I'll go ahead and stop here. I could do a whole art blog. It really does brighten my day and make me happy. This morning as I got out of my car there was a homeless man who was yelling, "I don't have to listen to you! You have the mind of a killer! I don't have to listen to people who rape me in the penis, then stab me in the back, literally!" All I could think was, "If this guy was at Luna's coffee shop, sporting an ironic moustache, people would be clapping and snapping for this man's poetry. But as it is most will walk across the street to avoid him, because he's a schizophrenic street dweller."

I Don't Like People

Warning: this is a totally bitchy but honest post. If you hate honesty and love flowers and rainbows, please do not read on. If you do read on, I warned you.

I do not like most people. Plain and simple. I think most people are fake and afraid, and are mean to others because they don’t want to do the hard work necessary to be a good and positive individual. Now, I’m not always positive, as shown in this here post. But for the most part I am compassionate and kind. Those whom I don’t care for, I just choose to stay away from. If I come across them I politely ignore them. Now, I didn’t used to. I used to cause them grave bodily injury. What a waste of time and energy.

I am extremely blessed to be surrounded by some extraordinary people. None are perfect, but all are beautifully flawed in a way that makes me love them all the more. I have rich friends, I have poor friends, I have chubby friends, I have teeny friends, I have loud friends, and I have quiet friends. The one thing they all have in common is that they are GOOD.

I used to feel great sorrow for people who didn’t like themselves and projected that on to others. I would take them in like captain save a ho. I thought that maybe if they had a good friend in their lives, it would help them to see their self worth, and they would stop being so cuntish. This never worked. You can’t change or help others. People really have to reflect and change themselves. I find this generally happens through a dramatic event in life, or just one day they wake up and realize they are not the person they want to be. Never has a person had someone say, “Oh man, you need to change this” and miraculously changed said behavior/personality trait. It comes from within.

I would never try and change another human being. I think that’s the problem with a lot of relationships, be they friendships or romantic. If you can’t accept and love a person’s flaws, then let them go. The one flaw that Rich has that I can’t abide by is him showing up late or his lack of being prepared. And I guarantee you if this wasn’t something he had mentioned he was working on before I even brought it up, I wouldn’t be with him. I am being way more patient with him than I am with most people, because I know he is really trying to work on it. And to be perfectly honest, there is just SO MUCH good in him. So much that I love about him, that it’s something I am willing to try and set aside and accept until he works it out and realizes if it’s even something he CAN fix. Sometimes behaviors are so ingrained in a person’s personality, it’s not going anywhere. And that’s totally okay.

There are people I see out and about with their fake name brand purses and sunglasses, and I brutally make fun of them. It’s my personality flaw that I know isn’t going anywhere: I make fun of people. And you know what? I don’t feel bad about it. I’m sure when I wear my baby blue Huggy Bear pimp coat, people are making fun of me, and I accept that. I just really hope that what they are saying is amusing. There is nothing worse than someone making fun of someone else, yet it is a huge comedy fail. I actually like when friends make fun of me to my face, and it’s so damn good I can’t even come back with something devastating, ‘cause I’m too busy laughing at what they just said. Like when I was commenting about how I had some pimples on my rear and how gross it was and Rich said, “Yeah, I’m glad most those things are gone. Those are nasty.” I mean, simple observation. And I laughed for like 5 minutes before I said, “Hey, that’s not right! I don’t make fun of your man fur!” Then I quickly realized I DO make fun of his human bear traits, and I shut right up. Just for the record, I never found hairy men attractive. But I love this man so much that his hair is actually adorable to me. It really is. When I find one of his curly cues in bed, before I get disgusted and throw it away, I actually get a little half smile because I think, “Aww, Rich left a hair in my bed.” (Shut up. I know it’s disgusting. I’ve got it bad and I am not ashamed. I adore this man. He is the first person in many years that makes me feel special. I can actually feel his adoration without him saying a word. It’s nice, and I totally realize how lucky I am).

Wait, this was supposed to be an uber mean post! Do I not have mean in me anymore? I totally started this with the intention of being downright bitchy. Bitch fail. Oh well. I guess if there’s something you’re going to fail at, failing at being a bitch is the one to go with.

Picture of the day: me being smarmy. I took this when I was in San Diego. I sent it to Rich so he would miss me. It worked. Notice the classy shirt. I was born in '74 and always wanted the shirt since it says "Hardcore since '74" so I bought myself one at the Hustler store in San Diego. And I think if it's possible to make the duck face, without actually making the duck face, I'm doing so in this picture.

It's Official: I'm Moved

I went to a movie screening last night. It was called Infinite Space, and focused on the architecture of John Lautner. I have long been a fan of his work, but the camera shots in this movie took my appreciation to a whole new level. Now, it’s no secret that Howard Roarke is one of my favorite literary characters. Say what you will about Ayn Rand, but she writes some really strong characters. You can hate her politics, and that her books are pushing objectivism pretty blatantly, but if you can get past that and just focus on story, some of the aspects of her writing are absolutely brilliant. Of all her characters, Howard always hit me close to home. A talented architect who refuses to change for anyone, and will only take on projects he believes in. To me, John Lautner is as close a personification to Howard as anyone will ever be. The way that he uses the environment, then blends his structures to fit the space, is nothing short of miraculous. Instead of drawing up a sketch and putting whatever he wants on a lot, he first visited the lot and took sketches of the curves and natural formations, then he would build the structure accordingly. It’s the way I think all architecture should be, and really forces you to see that architecture truly is art.

He of course received a ton of criticism for doing what he wanted, and some went so far as to call his architecture cheap looking. Well, I don’t know what buildings those people were looking at.

Source

He was commissioned for 22 public buildings, none of which was ever built because of the controversy surrounding his name. It’s a crying shame if you ask me. He did build one small school in Southern California which is still used as a school. His most famous structure is this stunning building in Acapulco, the Arango house.

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Well, people have been bugging me for years to get started on my art project ideas, and this film finally pushed me over the edge. I’m going to buy some canvases and an easel and get to work. Thanks John Lautner, you’ve been an inspiration. And thanks to all the folks who have bought his homes and restored them back to their original beauty, instead of trying to “improve” them by adding second floors and added space.

Random Music Links

Because I've been up since 5 cleaning, and I'm tired and moody, and you should just hear some music I think.

First and foremost, RIP Etta James. You were an unmatched vocal talent, and you will be missed, woman.
My Dearest Darling

Nina, if Etta hadn't passed yesterday, you would've been my first link and you know it. Don't be jealous.
Here Comes The Sun

Band of Horses are on my daily playlist to be sure.
No One's Gonna Love You

Jawbreaker got me through college.
Basilica

This woman is so far beyond her years I don't even know where to start.
Someone Like You

Ray LaMontagne is like a modern day James Taylor to me. An instant classic.
Jolene

Oh, you didn't think this was going to be without 80s shit did you?
I Know What Boys Like

Or that I wouldn't mention one of the MANY artists Elvis ripped off and didn't credit.
Hound Dog

And one more lady with Big in her name, that I adore.
I Ain't Mad At You

I can tell you these guys DID NOT sound this good live last year. I wish I hadn't even seen this show, because I love them. Just What I Needed

And a booty shakin' song. You're welcome.
Electric Feel

I'll go ahead and leave you with what I'll be listening to while I eat breakfast. The video is uber strange, and it just made me love her more, 'cause her music is duh ree mee. Dream About Changing

If you ever want to chat about music or let me know about music you think I might like, drop me a note. My email is in the profile, and I always write back. Have a great day and a lovely weekend y'all. I'm gonna eat then go work out in the rain!

Nostalgia

It's a tricky emm effer. There are things I love purely for nostalgic reasons. A song that can send me right to a place and time when I hear it. A movie that can evoke a mood that in no way comes from the dialogue in it. A Taco Bell meal that I know I only still like because my beloved spork obsession stems from long ago Taco Bell drive thru times.

I'm not one to dwell on the "Oh, there were simpler times and I wish we could go back" type of things. Unless I could throw out all smart phones and actually make people have social lives, that don't involve proving to everyone how much they have social lives, but I digress. There are things that I should hate, but I don't because they are nostalgic.

I love old ass janky wall heaters. The kind where you have to make sure you keep the pilot light lit, and it really only heats the room it is located in. It makes a crazy clicking noise for about five minutes after it gets the room up to the desired temperature. This should be maddening, but I love it. Why do I love it? When I was little my grandmother's house had one. That's the only reason I can come up with for why I don't want to tear this thing off the wall, and pull an Office Space on its ass. I love it.

I love cuckoo clocks. Again, as long as I can remember my grandmother had one that my uncle had sent her when he was stationed in Germany in the 60s. The thing clicks twice a second, then a bird comes out at half past the hour. On the hour the bird cuckoos however many times to match the hour, then a song plays while little wooden people dance around. This should be something I detest. Lord knows this thing does NOT go with the decor in my home. But it's in my bedroom, sure to drive anyone mad who isn't used to such a thing. Mine doesn't currently cuckoo as it's broke, but the clicking is something that Rich puts up with. He's kind of a saint that man.



Mine is a tiny one. Do you know how much cuckoo clocks cost?? The one my folks has has a lady that pulls a bell and my sister's has people drinking beers. Mine has none of these things, and it still cost my mom upwards of 300 bucks in Germany. We like Germany, my family.

Oh, did you think the nostalgic shit was going to stop there? Well, you're wrong. On the way in to work How Soon Is Now by The Smiths came on the radio. That is the first song I ever danced to at a dance club, when I was 15. So now the rest of the day will be spent with me remembering the days of white make up and pointy shoes. Short skirts with garter belts and thigh high tights. Boys who wore skirts and eyeliner before there was such thing as "guyliner." Anne Rice novels which totally kick the ass of the works of the vampire novelist who shall not be named in my blog.

I could go on and on. I'm just really glad that with all that I've gone through in life, and with the fact that my mind could easily fall to bad times and hardships, I have many fond memories and that's what I choose to focus on. And maybe, just maybe, I just got How Soon Is Now stuck in your head. That's a good thing.

No Baby Shower

Last night I had so much fun at my "No Baby Shower." A few of my gal pals brought food and we sat and chatted and just had an all around wonderful time. As a joke I had put a picture of the springs inserted in my fallopian tubes up on the fridge. I figured no one would want to see that, but as it turned out, EVERYONE wanted to see it. It was conveniently placed right next to my cousin's birth announcement for my new second cousin. He's a cutey, but so are my fallopian tubes.

Plenty of tubey food was brought: chow mein, noodle salads, and the like. A friend of mine who owns a bakery even made me a "no baby shower" cake. Where the booties should've been was an iPod. There were shoes and purses where the pacifier usually goes, and she put my initials in the baby blocks. I thought it was pretty funny, as well as mighty yummy.

I was surprised how many friends wanted to come and celebrate the fact that in about three months, I will be infertile for the rest of my life. It's something I've been looking forward to doing since I was 20, and I'm glad friends wanted to celebrate with me. A ton of jokes were made about my barren womb, and inappropriate comments about the uterus were made. Only one thing was broken in the midst of all the fun!

Here is a pic of some of my lady friends enjoying tubey goodness.



All in all a delightful evening full of snacks and laughter was had. I was still a little crampy and cranky from the procedure the day before, but I laughed hard enough that those cramps didn't stand a chance. I am truly blessed to have such lovely friends.

Children

I have known since I was 12 that I didn't want to have kids. I love kids, I just never wanted to give birth to any of my own for a few reasons. One, I have struggled through a lot with my mental stuff and I wouldn't want to put another human being through that. Every day I have to meditate and pause several times when my mind races, or I feel like I need to wipe the counters down AGAIN, and it's maddening. Two, the world is populated enough in my opinion. There are plenty of children out there who need homes. If I decide I would like to parent later on down the line I'll adopt. And I'll probably adopt an older child who'll be stuck in the foster system forever. Not a shiny new baby. Three, I like my life the way it is. I like to spend my money on the things I want. I could never afford a child right now, and I know it. But if and when I can I will want to travel, eat great meals, redecorate my home, and other things I wouldn't be able to do if I had a kid. So there are definitely selfish reasons involved as well.

I have been asking my doctor for a tubal ligation since I was 20. They said once I had a child or was 30 they'd consider it. Well, I went back on my 30th birthday and they still wouldn't do it. This made me very angry. I mean, if I wanted 10 abortions they'd do that, but for me to responsibly choose not to birth children, why, that's just insane! I honestly think they wished I'd change my mind. Another person to put money in to the healthcare system would be keen. Plus, I couldn't possibly know what's best for my own body right? I also have polycystic ovaries. I've been told I have to stay on the pill so they won't grow and cause issue. So when they agreed finally, this year to do my tubes, I said, "Should we just remove my ovaries instead? Once I go off the pill in three months will I not have issue?" No straight answer. Why do one procedure when I can come back and pay for two? But I could go on and on about our health care system. I pleaded for years, and they finally listened. I even talked about how I have terminated a pregnancy, and they still didn't care. That was the hardest decision I've ever made and to this day sometimes I see a kid who's the age mine would be now, and I cry. Anyone who thinks those of us who have had an abortion are irresponsible and do it without a care in the world, are morons. It's a hard decision that affects the rest of your life. I'm living with and doing okay with it. But it's been over 9 years, and it still comes in to my mind every so often.

I opted for the Essure procedure. In a nutshell they go in vaginally and insert metal coils in to my fallopian tubes. Scar tissue grows around those coils causing blockage. I then go back in three months for an ink test to make sure the tubes are fully blocked, and then I can go off the pill. It is far less invasive than actually going in and tying the tubes, and I've done a ton of research on the possible complications. Six months of research before I would make the appointment in fact. So Rich is coming to take me in an hour or so. Wish me luck everyone. I have only taken one break from the pill since I was 17, and I look forward to getting off the things. With all of my issues the last thing I need is fake hormones coarsing through my veins. I should be crampy and cranky for a little while. Right now I have to go take a naproxen, an 800 mg ibuprofen, and a vicodin. That's a lot of pills! Tomorrow night I'm having a no baby shower. A group of ladies is coming over to help me celebrate my infertility. Women get baby showers, I thought I had the right to celebrate that I won't be having any babies. I'm looking forward to a potluck with some of my gal pals. I told them no gifts, just potluck items and their beautiful faces. Wish me luck y'all. I'm starting to get a little nervous.

Happy picture of the day: my Joan Jett by Shepard Fairey. I love me some Joan Jett. When this came up at a show in a gallery a friend was curating, she called me and said, "You need to get down here, I'm holding something for you in case you want it. People are asking about it so hurry." I did, and she was right, I fell in love immediately.

Successful Trip

So even though it started out kind of rocky, with Rich not showing up with the $40.00 I had asked him to pitch in for the trip, it ended up going great. I kind of scolded him because he thought he could just pay half of the motel fee, with his card, when we got there. Umm, what motel do you not have to make a reservation with a card for, and then does splitsees? Anyways, we stopped by a bank on our way out of town and I asked him to be a little more prepared in the future, and we were off.

We listened to a bunch of music, and chatted about how excited we were about the weekend. We got to the motel in good time. We had planned on cleaning up and going for a walk to explore the neighborhood, but we kind of got sidetracked by a comfy bed and before we knew it, it was time to clean up and get in our fancy clothes for dinner. Now, I had just washed my hair and can only wash it twice a week or so, so I sent Rich down to get a shower cap. Well, they didn't have any. I was bummed to have to shower holding my head back out of the stream. Rich thought he had an idea. Use the bag from the ice bucket. While I didn't do it, I thought it was very nice of him to attempt to not only come up with a solution, but model how said solution would work.

No, I couldn't do it, but it was an A for effort on his part.

We got all gussied up and headed out to dinner, but not before I made him take a picture of the sign.

I seriously love that sign. I love all old school neon signage actually.

We went to dinner at a really nice restaurant called Boulevard. We met up with some friends of mine, Drue and Paul. Lovely conversation and spectacular food was shared. Afterwards we parted ways. We were going to go see a friend of mine who dj's at a strip club, but we were tired so we just decided to go back to the motel, since we planned on getting up super early for brunch.

Sunday morning we were both up by 6. I know! We're like old folks. So we snuggled and talked until we could get up to get ready for this place I have been wanting to try for breakfast called Plow. We thought it opened at 7. We got there and learned it opened at 7 on weekdays, and 8 on the weekends for brunch. This worked out fine. We watched some funny Ricky Gervais clips on YouTube on my phone, then walked around the quaint little neighborhood the restaurant was in. We took pictures and got in some exercise on those hilly streets of SF. Then the breakfast place opened. We had the most delicious food...AGAIN. This became kind of a theme for the trip. We ate our way through the city.

After breakfast we headed out to the neighborhood called the Mission to explore before heading to the MOMA to see a few art shows. We went to see the drawings of Richard Serra, but I wasn't really in to that. Instead I got drawn in to a photo exhibit that evoked so much emotion, I found myself just staring at some pieces like those annoying people where you want to say, "Move on pretentious!" http://www.sfmoma.org/exhib_events/exhibitions/430 But you should check it out. It was really beautiful. Her use of space and light was something to behold.

After that we had a goal of having ice cream for lunch, so we headed over to the famous Humphrey Slocombe ice cream parlor. I had one scoop of peanut butter curry ice cream, and one scoop of blue bottle vietnamese coffee. Both were superb. Rich had cinnamon brittle and candied ginger. Of course I had to taste them to make sure he wasn't getting poisoned. They were delicious as well. We peered across the street and saw a Pupusaria. We had ice cream and pupusas for lunch instead of just ice cream. Then, we headed out of the city.

We saw this awesome building, that happened to be some sort of police sub station on our way through town. I thought it was pretty awesome that the police had allowed the building to be tagged in different colors all over.

All in all, it was a lovely trip. We wandered through neighborhoods new to Rich, as he'd only been to the wharf. He got to take tons of pictures (he's a photographer), and we ate our weight in delicious treats. We got back home and snuggled on the couch and watched the Golden Globes. We weren't that hungry so after the awards show, we warmed up some baguette slices and ful (an Egyptian dip made of fava beans and spices that is absolutely delicious) and kissed in the kitchen.

I know, sick right? I do adore that boy, even though he has been known to drive me crazy on occasion. It was a much needed break from my every day life, and I'm glad I got to share it with him. 

Tomorrow he takes me to get my Essure procedure. I'm a tiny bit nervous, but also very excited. I'll talk about that more tomorrow.

I'm Blowin' This Popsicle Stand

No, I am not giving oral pleasure to a popsicle stand, and there will not be pictures to follow. In a few hours my boyfriend is coming over so we can leave to San Francisco. He has only ever been to Pier 39 so I'm going to show him some of the neighborhoods I've come to know and love over the years. Today has already been good just knowing that a small road trip is in order. I needed it more than you can ever know.

Yesterday was a bad one. I was on the verge of tears pretty much all day. I had a migraine for the second day running, which I was keeping just enough at bay with 800 mg ibuprofen to function. I was extremely emotional and everything was getting to me. I have days like that, and yesterday was one of the worst. It started off by my being frustrated that I am never trained on a new task at work. I'm just thrown in and expected to find whomever might have knowledge about it, then get it done. Now, this would be fine if not accompanied by my co-worker making comments like, "You should know how to do this." Really co-worker? And how's that? But like I most often do at work, I just smiled at her and went about my day finding ways in which I could learn what I needed to, to do what they needed me to do.

I commented on blogs yesterday about how something they said made me tear up, so many times, that people probably thought I was lying. But I wasn't. I teared up more times than I care to remember. During these times I have so many friends I could unload on. But I don't because I don't want to burden them. I figure most of them are going through their own stuff, and don't need my stuff added to the mix. It's something I need to work on. Maybe I should've called my sponsor, even though I didn't feel like drinking, just to vent.

But then, something magical happened. I had scheduled a meeting with someone in budgets to try and learn this new task, and I had the best time with her. Our 1 1/2 hour meeting consisted of maybe 1/2 hour of her telling me how to look at our budget bill and pull out the things I needed to. The other hour was us venting, and joking, and her telling me she had my job for two years so she understood. I needed that more than I could have imagined. I left that meeting feeling refreshed. Like it was a whole new day even though it wasn't. When I was leaving she said, "Can we get together like this once a week? I really like talking to you." And, you guessed it, I almost teared up AGAIN. Not only do I now have someone at work to eat lunch and share with once a week, but someone enjoyed my company. Even though that company was when I was at my worst. Complaining and unloading about how I was ready to throw in the towel.

Thanks to Jennifer I get to wake up today, brew some coffee, sweep and mop the house, get some laundry done, and smile while doing it. I plan on sending her an email on Tuesday to thank her. People need to know when they've altered someone's mood so that they realize they make a difference, even in the smallest of ways. To her, that was probably a really small thing. To me, it was huge. Because of her I get to greet my boyfriend with a huge hug and kiss instead of a carryover frown and sadness on my face.

We are staying at my favorite motel in the whole world. It is my favorite because it is tiny and old, and has an amazing sign out front. It's nothing fancy. Just a clean, friendly place to lay my head. We are going to Boulevard to eat. It's a restaurant that was up for best restaurant by James Beard last year, and I'm really excited to get to check the place out. We are going to explore the outer Richmond, the Mission, and a few other neighborhoods I think Rich will enjoy. Maybe we can hit up one of the museums too. I needed a trip out of town so badly. Oh lord, I need to wash my filthy car too. I hate washing my car when it's cold. But all of my money is tied up in this trip, so I will get my lazy ass out there and hand wash Audrey. (What? My bikes have names and you didn't think my car would?)

Happy picture of the day: my buddha cookie jar. I don't really keep cookies in the house so he's usually empty. Right now I think he has some fortune cookies, and those See's lollies from xmas in him. Those will never get eaten, but I may offer them to guests under the guise of kindness, when really it will be to get rid of them 'cause I can't stand them. I'm a great hostess.

My Sense Of Humor

Let’s just say it’s different from a lot of people’s. Sometimes I go too far. Some people don’t think I’m that funny. But thank goodness my friends all share a similar sense of humor and I only offend them half of the time. Think of how far you’d go with a crude joke, then stop as you start feeling guilty. Now imagine going five times further. Here I am! *waving*

Sometimes it’s more weird than crude. My theme parties so far since I’ve had my house have been:

1.     Housewarming Party: all food had to be in the shape of balls. I made melon balls and mac & cheese balls. Someone brought a cheese ball with a cracker weenie. You get the picture. Good times.

2.     Unfortunate Looking Food: I got the idea by seeing the meatloaf baby. You haven’t seen the meatloaf baby? Go google image. I promise you won’t be disappointed. One of my friends actually brought a meatloaf baby. One brought a chocolate cake with real chicken feet sticking out of it and called it, “Chicken Graveyard Happy Springtime” and had translated it in to Chinese. Some of my friends go that extra mile. I made guacamole colored to look like poo.

3.     Ghetto Gourmet: where you were supposed to take something that was not so great like a rice krispie treat, and elevate it to gourmet status. OR you could take something yummy and make it ghetto. I made jalapeno poppers with smoked gouda and chorizo. One friend brought browned butter rosemary rice krispie treats. Another brought hot dog empanadas. There was also a casserole with that squirty pancake batter, french fries, chicken nuggets, and American cheese slices. I did not try that one, but everyone who did said it was a huge hit.

So while you think you’re clever with your tired ass ugly holiday sweater parties, and luau parties, I’ll be having friends over making crude jokes about going to the bathroom and burying hookers.

I have a girlfriend who used to cooperate with me in making people stop mid-asinine conversation. Whenever people were talking loudly about things that were totally uninteresting, we would start a conversation in earshot about fisting. It would go something like this:

Her: Yeah, but the last time I got fisted he tried to do it without lube. I mean, c’mon!

Me: You still need lube? If you have him do it like this, it shouldn’t be a problem. *making hand in to position to show how to insert, then make in to fist after insertion.*

The conversation would go on like this until the asinine conversation next to us had stopped, ‘cause they were staring at us in disbelief. SWEET VICTORY!

I had a conversation two days ago about doing a video series about the world’s politest rapist. We were arguing over whether to make him British. I said no, he should just have an old Hollywood accent, and be wearing a vest. My friend then said that he should only rape men ‘cause it wouldn’t be polite to rape the fairer sex. I then said, “That wouldn’t be as funny. Lady rape is way funnier. Yes, I just said that sentence.” After I uttered it I spent a millisecond wondering if I had even gone too far even for me. Then I quickly realized no.

Sometimes my sense of humor isn’t outlandish, it’s just weird. I had a friend tell me about having a dream where she was abducted by one of her clients who wanted to make a skin suit out of her, but she got away on my bike. My bike is a Schwinn Pea Picker named Soupy. (Yes, I name my bikes. Don’t you?)

I responded, “Did Soupy save you?” She said yes. I responded, “I always knew he was a hero.” Then we talked about how we both want to get Tom Selleck tattoos that say, “I hella party” underneath. Because I go to bed before 10 most nights, and I love Tom Selleck.

Happy picture of the day: my fruit bowl. Because it's pretty, and it holds things that help keep me healthy.

I Wasn't Always This Nice

I learned very early on that I was good at more than my school subjects. I learned if someone tried to make me feel less than with words, I could come back with something in a split second ten times better, that would turn the tables and make them feel really dumb. I learned my physical strength, without even trying, was kind of freakish. With that knowledge I knew that it might take years of proving myself, but sooner or later, people would stop messing with me.

I never had a problem fitting in. I always knew I was different and felt like an outsider, but put me in any situation and within 15 minutes I had a group of people around saying, “I like her.” This was very important to me up until junior high. Then I started purposely not fitting in and realizing I not only didn’t NEED everyone to like me, but I didn’t want them to. I went through many phases in high school and college. I was a goth kid, I was a hardcore kid, I was a raver. Any time I got to the point where I knew the “cool” crowd of any scene, I would get out. I never wanted to be the cool kid. I didn’t want to stand out. I wanted to blend. I learned it was kind of impossible. I am very animated when I talk, and I learn about subjects quite quickly. I am also like Cliff Clavin. I have tons of useless knowledge stored in my noggin. Apparently, people find this interesting. I sometimes wish it would just go away. That I could hear a blip or read a blurb, and it didn’t stick with me forever. But remembering to take something to work? Nope. I have to make a note for that. My brain is too busy remembering all the people that Exene from X dated.

I got in to many battles, both physical and verbal. I would see a nazi skinhead and I would immediately start harassing them. I got my nose broken over a dozen times being kicked in the face by groups of men. But I never backed down. I didn’t have that fight or flight thing. I only had fight. I would beat people up so bad they’d end up in the hospital. This only had to happen a handful of times before I refused to hit people. My anger would well up so much that I would black out and I couldn’t stop hitting or kicking. I didn’t like it. It scared me. The last two fights I got in to I threw my hands down and refused to even defend myself. It is the hardest, and most rewarding thing I have ever done. Have you seen Mask with Eric Stoltz? That’s what my face looked like after the last fight I got in. My cheekbones were shattered, nose broken, and all kinds of fun stuff. I went to the hospital to get checked out and refused to tell them who did it. I wasn’t that kind of girl. To this day I don’t call the cops. I take care of things my own way.

I once had a lady comment on the creepers I was wearing and say, “Nice Frankenstein shoes.” Without missing a beat I turned and said, “Nice shoes whatever fashion magazine told you it was okay to wear this month. How does it feel to be a sheep?” Then I actually bleated at her. Some time later I was hitting the handicap button with my elbow at work, to get the door to open. I did not like touching handles right after I’d washed my hands in the restroom. A lady said, “Well that was a waste of energy” eluding to the fact that I’d used power to open the door, when I could have just opened it with my hand. I turned and said, “Not as much a waste of energy as you making that comment.” I prided myself on things like this. The things that other people would think up twenty minutes later and say, “I wish I’d said that” I actually HAD said.

Why am I telling you all of this? Because no one is all positivity and roses. I do not want to paint a picture of myself of this always perfect positive Polly, because that’s not who I am. Although I no longer bark back when people say mean things, I used to be a total asshole. I am not ashamed of it, because it made me who I am today. I have been in dank bars, in drug houses surrounded by pounds of crystal meth, in jails, and now I sit in an office and wear sensible shoes. We all have the opportunity to change. Nothing is set in stone. You have the ability to be whoever you want to be, even if your life hasn’t been all wine and roses. I am a survivor of molestation, of rape, and of a lot of emotional abuse, and I have come out the other side stronger.

When people say mean things I now look at them and think, “They must be hating themselves right now to have to try and make someone else feel bad. They don’t realize tearing someone else down isn’t the key to feeling better. Building yourself up is.” But it’s easier to just think everyone is inferior, than really do the hard work to make yourself *good.*

I still find myself saying really snappy smartass things, but it’s becoming less and less frequent. Every time I DON’T do it is a proud moment indeed. It doesn’t matter how physically or mentally tough you are. It’s far more disciplined and difficult to not react, and to just smile and walk away.

Now instead of priding myself on being the comeback queen, I pride myself on complimenting at least one person every day, and making as many people smile and laugh as I can. ‘Cause that’s my other gift: humor. I pride myself on sick humor too.

Totally off subject but something that I just remembered that made me laugh. The other morning Rich and I were in bed and I said, “Oh jeez, I need to get in the shower. I feel like I smell like a thousand whores.” My sweet, sweet boyfriend turned to me and said, “Awww, no hon, you only smell like one whore.” And thus, I adore him. I notice him adopting my biting sense of humor more and more, and I have to admit, I really like it. I laughed so hard that morning. Laughter is so healing to me. But I will get more in to that tomorrow.

Happy picture of the day: my robot tea infuser. I like buying loose leaf tea, and I swear this little guy actually makes the tea taste better.

Confessions Of A Food Nerd

I will be the first to admit, I am a giant food nerd. I am not, however, a foodie. I do not pretend to enjoy things like uni, or bone marrow, or offal, ‘cause it’s cool. I also do not eat brekkie, sandos, or fro-yo. I eat food without annoying shortened cutesy names. You know: hamburgers, grilled lamb, carnitas, and the like. I once had a family friend procure me some balut as I wanted to try something that seemed like the most disgusting thing ever. If you don’t know balut, it’s a Filipino delicacy that is a half formed chicken embryo. I know, right? Luckily, the eggs burst in the fridge and so I didn’t get to boil and take a bite. Not so lucky for my nose as that was kind of the worst smell of all time. Also, I’m quite sure if I did try it I would’ve thrown up. For some unknown reason I just really wanted to be able to say, “Yeah, I tried that. It’s as gross as you’d think it is.”

I don’t watch Food Network as much as I used to, but I do love Ina Garten (who wouldn’t love living in that house surrounded by that many gays? Dude, she’s like my fairy princess icon. That woman has GAYYYYME). I love Tyler Florence’s recipes, and watching Paula Deen makes me happy. I want to spend an afternoon with her. Just eating cubes of butter and ass grabbing hunky dudes while we say “Olive all.” That woman can’t say oil. She just can’t. If you have not seen the flickr page called Paula Deen Riding Things stop what you are doing and go now. Seriously, I’ll wait.

I also love to cook. The other night I made the most amazing lamb chops in a balsamic reduction, with oven roasted brussel sprouts. Seriously, it was so delicious I was patting myself on the back. I have two vices: sex and cooking. I put my all in to both. But I try not to mix them. Whipped cream and other food items are harder to wash off than you’d think. Tonight I’m making a ribeye with grilled asparagus. I will be thinking about it all day. Being the creature of habit that I am, every weekday I have 8 oz. of lowfat vanilla yogurt with 2 T of flax seed for breakfast. Then I have a Lean Cuisine or Smart Ones and a piece of fruit for lunch. So by dinner time I am totally ready for a real homecooked yummy meal. I know you’re supposed to eat a large lunch. That’s never going to happen with me. Dinner is my meal of the day. Always has been always will.

I belong to a website where you take pictures of what you ate and post it so that folks can go to any city, type in “burger” and find all the burgers within a few miles. It’s a really fun site, and I like it. You can check out my page here if you are so inclined: http://www.foodspotting.com/16499-melanie-dinos
My pictures aren't very good 'cause they're just with my iPhone, but if you check the page out and like it I highly recommend checking out a lady I follow, Rachel Valley. She's a food photographer. She could take a picture of a roach and make you want to eat it.

Last night was the first Sacramento Foodspotting get together. We all met up at a really nice restaurant and talked and laughed. It was fun meeting some of the people I follow on there. Plus, the food was delicious. I had skate wing. Apparently it is a fish similar to a stingray. You’re welcome Steve Irwin.

Originally I was going to include some of my cooking in the blog, but decided against it. I really enjoy cooking. I did not want to have to stop and photo document something that is therapeutic in my life. I think it would ruin the joy it brings me, so I’m not going to be doing that. I do follow several food blogs that you can find in my “Following” list if you’d care to check them out. They’re all really good, and save for one I know the ladies that write them, and they’re awesome so you should follow their blogs. Also, if I ever mention something I've made or am making and it sounds good to you, email me and I'll shoot you the recipe. Or if I don't mention food, but you want some recipe ideas, I'd love to send you some.


Happy picture of the day: my red patent leather flats. I woke up at 4 a.m. today with a screaming headache. I figured I'd better wear something sassy to get me through the day. I firmly believe it is much harder to have a bad day, when you are in cute footwear.