TheXile Goddess

On Hate

2015-03-08T12:38:00.000-04:00

They say the opposite of love is not hate but indifference. Well, it's Elie Wiesel who said it originally. Who said it initially really is no matter though. What is important is that he (they) is correct. And when we come upon a path and have the option to choose among the three, I believe hate to be the least productive for our soul.

Love we reserve for those who deserve it. Or at least we should, right? Loving those who are incapable or unwilling of loving us in return has dire consequences for our own soul identity. Giving love without love in return only hinders our ability to trust in love itself. Now, in the case of loving those who reciprocate the sentiment, our souls are filled with positivity and light. Our hearts rejoice in knowing that we are connecting with another person on the soul level, and that love brings us closer to Universal Truth. Conversely, if we love someone who does not love us in return, we are simply wasting that positive energy and depleting our own soul of the love we so deserve.

Hate, I believe comes from this desire to be loved but which is not reciprocated. Hate invokes the same passion from which love is born, and it uses seemingly twice the energy that love does but negatively. I am seeing this play out in observing people around me, and I am learning so much from that. When we hate, it consumes us. Hate can become obsessive, all-consuming, and it is entirely subversive. Hate detracts from our path to the light, and chips away at every loving conviction within us. Hate brings with it a very powerful negative energy that has the ability to completely derail our soul purpose, which is to become all-loving. This hate can become so powerful that our bodies react and have the ability to become toxic themselves, causing physical pain and other chronic ailments. Hate is the ultimate weapon of self-destruction.

But what about indifference? Indifference is the neutrality between love and hate, and it can be used both as protection from hate and as a defense mechanism against love. It truly is the double-edged sword! This sword, however, is absolutely our best defense against those incapable of love. Those of us who have been victims of abusive relationships know that these people do exist. These people who are incapable of love have been devoured by hate, and we must not play into their hands and continue the cycle. We must use the neutral "charge" of indifference in order to move forward on our path to the light, the ultimate love that our soul deserves and desires. We must not get caught up in the dispassionate web that hate attempts to weave before us. We must learn to turn away from these unhealthy relationships and look to fill those voids with people who fill our soul with the light and love.

The simple truth is that love breeds love, and hate breeds more hate. When people say hateful things, do hateful things, and we reciprocate that negativity, we only fuel that evil fire. We are feeding the dark monster within us that aims to lead our souls astray, causing even our own bodies to turn against us sometimes. Let us not fall into hate's trap. Let us follow the path to the light of love, using indifference as our sword and our shield from those who can no longer see the light themselves.

May we understand that these hateful beings that have come into our lives, whether they be family, friends, lovers, or foes, have succumbed to the dark forces within and are of no benefit to our souls. May we understand that giving any credence to their complaints or criticisms only fuels their path to darkness and dims our own internal light. We must expel that negative energy. Let us only love those who love in return. Let us bestow grace upon those who request it, and let us all move forward in our lives with loving intentions.

Til next time,
XoXo -Xile

Bigger Than You & Me

2015-02-23T15:52:00.001-05:00

Some things are bigger than you and me...lots of things, in fact. One of the best things about living on an island is that you realize how absolutely small you are in the grand scheme of things. Today our family hiked to a beach that is just over 1 mile (1.6km) one way. That's just over 2 miles (3.2km) round trip, with a beautiful stop in the middle called the beach!

On our hike, King and I discussed why it matters to have a house with a view. He doesn't feel like it's that big of a deal, and while I agree that it's not imperative, I told him why I see so much value in having a view of the sea. Being able to look out from your deck and see just how expansive our world is...it's really quite enlightening. I love Zen's house because you walk out onto her porch and take a deep breath...and you feel how deep that breath actually goes. You see that that the sea is seemingly never-ending, and you realize how small of a speck you really are in relation to the world around you. Knowing that is a big deal. Feeling it and knowing that the way you act, the way you treat others, and the way you think has a really big impact! Look at how small we are in this big world, and yet as one little human, we can make an impact that will last for generations to come. That's pretty powerful, isn't it? For instance, the things I teach my children, they will then go forth and teach their children and so on (if we are fortunate enough not to destroy this beautiful planet, that is, of course).
I looked at their beautiful little feet as they walked what seemed like an impossible distance for them and thought about how they did it without fear or hesitation. Why do they do that? Well, they do it because they trust that King and I won't push them to do something that is beyond their capabilities. And we do it with them to show them that we do it as a team, together. When my little Monster thought she couldn't possibly take another step, I held her hand and walked with her, encouraging her the whole way and telling her, "you're doing so great! Look at you, you're a rock star!" The best part is that when we arrived back home, she smiled and was so excited that she did it! Seeing their joy makes me feel so good! Helping them work to achieve goals that they're uncertain they can achieve and then praising those accomplishments is what we work to do as parents, right? Encourage them to explore and help them reach for the stars...and then stand back and let them bask in the glory when they get there. To see that we are the ultimate teachers is quite empowering, but we also must remain humble and know that they are the ones who are doing. We are only their guides.

This hike to the beach was a really important one because today I really didn't feel like doing anything. I was in quite a lot of pain when I woke up this morning, I assume from stress and anxiety; and I honestly wasn't even sure I wanted to step a foot out of bed. However, the dogs were restless and wanting to go for a walk, and the girls were anxious for another "adventure." King and I had talked about finding a path to a road that we were told was there but just hadn't taken the time to figure it out, and this morning just seemed like the right opportunity. So, putting aside my personal issues for the moment, it was the perfect distraction and the perfect focus.

Reaching the beach was so amazing. It was like the weight of the day had been lifted off of my body, and I took a deep breath of the salty air and allowed it to fill my lungs...Letting it out, I let go of all the stress that was binding me, and all was right with the world. The girls ran their little hearts out on the beach, made sand art, and Princess even decided to take a dip in the water. Our Crucian pup ran up and down the length of the beach, stopping every now and again to take deep breaths of the salty air and letting the waves crash over her paws. At one point I looked at King and said, "I so wish we would've done this so much sooner..." But you know what? Tomorrow is another day!

I just need to remember that this world is so much bigger than you and me. It's bigger than the sea, even. But the impact that we make can last lifetimes, so it's equally important to remain mindful of our actions as we carve out the path of our lives. And with that in mind, I aim to carve a path that is full of love and compassion, and I encourage you to do the same :-)

Til next time, readers...
xoxo -Xile

Broccoli Chicken Cheddar Stuffed Crescent Braid

2015-02-06T15:12:00.003-05:00

Broccoli Chicken Cheddar Stuffed Crescent Braid

What You Need:

*1 package Pillsbury Crescent Roll dough (seamless is easier but unnecessary)

*1 cup pre-cooked shredded chicken (you can use canned chicken, but I didn't)
*1 cup shredded cheddar cheese

*1 cup cut broccoli (I thawed frozen broccoli florets)

* 1/2 can cream of condensed cream of chicken soup

What You Do:

*If you use seamless crescent roll dough, roll it out, and cut it like THIS. If you don't use the seamless dough (I didn't have seamless), roll the dough up into a ball, work it to remove the cuts, and roll it back out to a somewhat rectangular shape and THEN cut it.

*Place it on a baking sheet (ungreased)

*In a bowl, mix together the chicken, broccoli, cheese, and chicken soup

*Spread the mix evenly along the middle of the dough (the part that is not cut), and then criss-cross the dough to make it look like a braid while wrapping up the filling

*Bake at 350 for about 15-20 minutes, until the crust is a nice golden brown

This recipe is an adaptation of THIS one :)

Your Best Cheese Balls

2014-11-28T09:33:00.000-05:00

So Thanksgiving is either a love it or hate it kinda day in my life. And I'm sure it's the same for a lot of people, right? I mean, family dynamics can be incredibly challenging, and mix that with 17 cooks in the same kitchen, and it's kinda a recipe for disaster. Since having children, our Thanksgivings have been all over the board from amazing to not so memorable. Yesterday took the cake for most amazing Thanksgiving ever.

We spent the day with some of our best friends in the entire world with a beautiful view of Buck Island, laughing, singing, cooking, drinking, and just being overall merry. By the time we sat down to dinner, we had a total of 5 dogs, 4 children, and 6 adults in attendance. The munchkins said these really odd "prayers" before eating, which Zen captured on video (yay!). One of our friends made the turkey and gravy; Zen was responsible for mashed potatoes, stuffing, and corn. J made an appetizer that was pretty bangin', and I did the green bean casserole, desserts, mulled cider, and apps for snacking while we were waiting for dinner.

I was actually pretty impressed with myself. I am not sure why, but it's always surprising when I make a stellar dish. Most especially, though, I was proud that I was able to bake desserts. Baking has always been a challenge for me, so the idea that I'm getting the hang of it is really exciting.

Anyway, this entry is all about cheese. One of my very favorite things to make for a party is a cheese ball. Why? Well, because it's incredibly simple, and it's just about guaranteed to get you a million compliments. I did 3 flavors for Thanksgiving yesterday: Bacon Ranch, Greek, and Taco. So, I'll go through each one and then at the end let you know a very basic equation for making ANY cheese ball you could ever dream up :)

Bacon Ranch Cheese Ball

What You Need:

2 cups Monterrey Jack cheese, shredded

1 brick cream cheese (8 oz)

1/4 c bacon bits

1 packet dry ranch dressing

1/2 c French's fried onions, crushed

What You Do:

*Toss everything except the fried onions in a bowl

*Mix with your hands until all the ingredients are combined evenly

*Roll into a ball shape

*In a ziplock bag, pound out the onions until they are crushed to the texture you like. Then pour it out on a piece of wax paper

*Roll the cheese ball in the onions until evenly coated

*Stick it in the fridge for a couple hours to set up

*Serve with your favorite crackers

Greek Cheese Ball

What You Need:

2 c crumbled feta cheese

1 brick cream cheese (8 oz)

1/4 c roasted red pepper, diced

1/4 c cucumber, diced

1/4 c kalamata olives, diced

1/2 tsp dill

1/2 c pita chips, crushed

What You Do:

*In a bowl, mix the cheeses by hand together until evenly combined

*Add peppers, cucumber, and olives, mix until evenly combined

*Sprinkle in dill and mix until evenly combined

*Roll into a ball shape

*In a ziplock bag, pound pita chips until crushed to desired texture

*Pour crushed pita chips onto a piece of wax paper

*Roll cheese ball in pita chips until evenly coated

*Pop it in the fridge to set up for a couple hours

*Serve with pita chips, pita bread, and/or your favorite crackers...or on cucumbers!

Taco Cheese Ball

What You Need:

2 c shredded cheddar cheese

1 brick cream cheese (8 oz)

1/4 c black olives, chopped

1/4 c green onion or chives

1 Tbs taco seasoning

1/2 tsp smoked paprika

1/2 c tortilla chips, crushed

What You Do:

*In a mixing bowl, combine cheeses. It's just easiest to do this by hand

*Add olives and green onion and mix until evenly dispersed

*Add seasonings and mix until even

*Shape into a ball

*In a ziplock bag, pound out tortilla chips to desired consistency. Pour onto a sheet of wax paper

*Roll cheese ball in crushed chips until evenly coated

*Put in fridge for a couple hours to set

*Serve with tortilla chips or your favorite crackers!

So there you have it! Those are 3 different flavors of cheese balls you can make for your next gathering that are sure to impress. The very basic thing about any cheese ball is combining a brick of cream cheese with another shredded (or crumbled) cheese. So the ratio is 1 brick of cream cheese to 2 cups of shredded cheese. Roll into a ball, and then you can choose your coating. I am not a big fan of using nuts to coat my cheese balls, but of course you can do whatever you want!

As a final note, here are some links to the desserts I did yesterday, as they turned out SO well that it would be a shame not to share them with you!

*Gingerbread Cookies*

*Urban Legend Chocolate Chip Cookies*

*Pumpkin Cream Cheese Dump-cake*

From my home to yours, Happy Holidays!

xoxo

-Xile

Messy Monday?

2014-11-24T22:46:00.001-05:00

So today was definitely not the most productive day I've ever had. I had every intention of making the munchkins breakfast, doing some homeschool work, and then running to the post office to pick up the 6 pounds of chocolate that I had ordered in order to continue our new tradition of "Messy Monday."

The day started off great with my little princess' favorite Pumpkin Pancakes, for which I shall owe you all a recipe. They were gobbled up quickly, and everyone was cooperating for what was sure to be a productive day. As the island would have it, that just didn't happen. King had some side work scheduled, and I thought I would be "the good wife" and go and pick up the parts for that project since he was working on another side project this morning. I mean, how hard is it to run to a parts store, get some car parts, stop by the post office, drop the parts off to King, and then go home and finish my day with the girls? DARE I ask.

Everything was good and well until we were leaving the post office. I thought my car was making an odd noise and didn't feel quite right, but I mean it's an island car...so it's not like I'm driving a Mercedes or something. Anyway, I asked the girls for a "quiet ride," and thankfully they obliged...except that I noticed that the car felt like there was something terribly wrong, and there was no safe place for me to pull off of the road because the bush is so overgrown thanks to all of the November rain. Well, I slowed to a complete crawl, and the nearest safe place to pull over was the most expensive resort on island...with an award-winning golf course, a full service spa, 3 beaches...you get the idea. I made it as far as their first parking lot next to the golf course before I stopped the car and went into full-blown panic attack.

I had 14% battery charge (after leaving the house with over 80% just a couple hours prior) when I called King to let him know that I was totally panicking. Thankfully he was able to get on the road right away to meet us. Double thanks that he just happens to be a mechanic with all of his tools in his truck. So he arrived rather quickly and was able to put the spare on...which just happened to have a bent rim and no air...well, more air than the flat tire but not enough to drive on. Enter: Fix-a-Flat, an island staple. Honestly, if you live on an island, just have at least one can in your vehicle.

So while he's working on getting my car somewhat driveable, of course both munchkins have to use the restroom. There is no restroom anywhere near this parking lot. What IS near the parking lot is an award-winning golf course, a bunch of trees, and a lot of iguanas. So, I am now even more thankful that I had a friend in Indianapolis who taught me how to hold my kids while they pee so that they don't pee on themselves...well, or me. And yes, my girls peed in the bush of a 5 star resort with an award-winning golf course just to our left.

Needless to say, the day wasn't all that productive in the way of schoolwork, but I suppose it was definitely "messy." More importantly, I did get to focus on what this week is all about: Thanksgiving. While the Universe most definitely challenged me today, I am happy that I was able to find the blessings, laugh, and let go of the anxiety and frustration. I am incredibly proud that my girls were completely calm, well behaved, and just rolled with the day, even with the challenges presented.

And honestly, who can complain when I was sitting at a gas station in the Caribbean, drinking a beer while King repaired my tire? As a good friend of ours says, "it doesn't suck."

Are You Kidding Me?! Bangin' Barbecue Chicken Chili

2014-11-16T18:03:00.001-05:00

We are approaching major desperation at this point. This is Day 5 of Stateside sickness trampling our house and wrecking our week...ie. I haven't been to the beach in an obscene amount of time for living on an island; nearly 2 weeks. Feel sorry for me. Really, I know it's probably 21 below zero where you are reading this, winter storm Bozeman is kicking your ass, and there is no amount of coffee in the world that will keep you warm. For that I'm sorry, but just remember that our little island is always here for you whenever you may need it. :)

Tonight's post is about chili though, so that should help warm your toesies and your bellies at least. From my girls, they have commented, "Are you kidding me?! It's delicious!!" And "Mommy, you are the best chef ever." If it gets my children's approval, it's a winner in this house.

The secret to chili I think is not to have too much of a recipe, as chili is a lot about using what you have and improvising where you need. I didn't buy enough ground beef this last grocery round, so I thought I'd attempt a chicken chili. I hadn't made one since King's work chili cook-off a few years ago, where they disqualified me because he didn't make it. Basically, it was a bunch of dudes and me...and they refused to let a woman win, even though it was obvious that mine was the tastiest ;) SO, my point here is to use what you have, add what flavors suit your household, and maybe just use this recipe as a guideline rather than a Bible.

Here we go!

What You Need:

5-6 quart crock pot
1 lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts (it took me 2)
1/2 c your favorite BBQ sauce
2 14.5 oz cans diced chili tomatoes
1 15 oz can tomato sauce
2 cans chili beans w/sauce (I used mild)
1 can corn, drained
1 can black beans, drained and rinsed
1 onion, diced
1 head garlic, minced
chili powder to taste
cumin to taste
Optional: sour cream, shredded cheddar, & chives for garnish

What You Do:

*Slow cook your chicken on low. Put it in the crock and pour your barbecue sauce on top. Walk away. For like 4 hours...Do some laundry or crack open a bottle of bubbly. Celebrate because crock pot cooking is an AMAZING gift to moms everywhere!
*Once the chicken is cooked through, take it out and shred it, toss it back in the crock and make sure it's all coated in barbecue sauce.
*Dump in the rest of your ingredients. Walk away again for another 4+ hours, vacuum, clean a dish...clean up a mess or 17. THE END!!!! Okay, so I mixed it every so often and taste tested a few times to make sure that I didn't under or over spice it.

Apart from that, this is exactly why I adore my crock pot. It should really be called the crack pot in our house, although that may have some connotations that are all-too-inappropriate for a mother of 2...or anyone, for that matter. Anyway, you get the point. I try to cook in my crock as often as humanly possible for a couple of reasons: 1. It's super easy and low maintenance. 2. It doesn't heat up my kitchen like the oven/stove. That's important when you live in the Caribbean.

Finally, I served it with these cornbread muffins, which I will be making once a week I think. Skip the Jiffy. Seriously, it's probably loaded with all kinds of crap chemicals and preservatives, and these muffins were lovely and didn't have that weird aftertaste. And for someone who is barely capable of baking, it wasn't all that difficult. I did follow some of the suggestions from the reviews and made sure to really cream the butter/sugar and also let the milk/cornmeal sit for several minutes before mixing it together with the other ingredients. AND I used canned corn. It's better.

Bon appetit, friends!

Honey Soy Ginger Shrimp Star-Fry

2014-11-14T15:16:00.000-05:00

In our house, each time we make a grocery trip, I let everyone choose their favorite meal to be made. Princess' favorite is "shrimp star fry." That's shrimp STIR fry for those who don't understand kidspeak. Regardless, it is always the most expensive, but the most delectable meal of the grocery round. AND I've never actually written down any sort of recipe for it. So again, the girls are challenging me to put some ingredients and measurements down so that they (and YOU) can replicate it down the road.

A note about stir fry is that you don't necessarily HAVE to use the same veggies that I use this time, as most of the time my veggies vary. Use seasonal veggies to your advantage, and this way you can make this special treat year-round. In addition to that, this marinade is easily adapted to other meats, so you aren't even confined to shrimp (especially if it's uber expensive). Try chicken or pork instead, or even just use this glaze for salmon or mahi. I like things to be versatile because I never know what I'm going to be missing in my kitchen that particular day ;)

What You Need:

Honey Soy Ginger Marinade
1/2 c soy sauce
1/4 c honey
2 tsp Sriracha
1 tsp sesame oil
1 tsp rice vinegar
1-2 tsp toasted sesame seeds
1/2 tsp ground ginger

Stir Fry
Tempura oil, a splash or 2
2 lbs large raw shrimp, peeled, tail-off
1 large zucchini, sliced into manageable pieces
1 large yellow squash, sliced
8 oz snow peas (pea pods)
2-3 large carrots, sliced
1 medium onion, diced
1/4 head of red cabbage, sliced
1 head garlic, diced or sliced thinly (basically everything I cook has abundant garlic)
1 can water chestnuts, sliced

What You Do:

*Make up your marinade
*Put just enough on the shrimp to evenly coat all of them; put in the fridge for 15-30 minutes. Don't over-marinate the shrimp. 30 minutes is plenty, promise! Set the rest of the marinade in the fridge to use a bit later
*Once you're ready to prepare the main dish, heat your skillet/wok with a splash or 2 of tempura oil. First cook the shrimp and set them aside.
*Add another round of tempura oil, and add your garlic. Next I added carrots since they take the longest and let them cook for a couple minutes. Then add in your squash, zucchini, & onions. Then add in the rest of your marinade. Let that cook down for a few more minutes and then add the water chestnuts and snow peas. Finally, add in the cabbage, as it cooks the quickest. Mix it all around, and you have the prettiest stir-fry you've ever seen!
*Serve it with your favorite rice, topped with the shrimp -or- mix the shrimp back in at the end

Fancy Schmancy Goat Cheese, Spinach, & Porcini Stuffed Chicken

2014-11-13T17:56:00.001-05:00

In an effort to give my girls the ability to cook like mommy when they grow up, at their request I have made an extreme effort to blog recipes for as many meals as I can. Tonight's meal they turned up their noses at, but I honestly didn't even care. More for me! They are still sniffly, and this is when I allow them to eat anything that they will actually eat. Tonight they chose pub mix & left-over sweet & sour pork. Cest la vie

Let's get to it, shall we?

What You Need:

Toothpicks (This was the toughest ingredient for me to find here on island)
Cooking spray (I used grapeseed oil in my PC Kitchen Spritzer)
Aluminum foil
Boneless skinless chicken breasts, pounded out with a meat mallet to about 1/4" thick (I had 3 available)
Italian seasoning blend
8-16 oz porcini (baby bella) mushrooms, thinly sliced
Fresh basil
Baby spinach
Goat cheese
Breadcrumbs (I used Italian, but you can also use Panko, whatever you have on hand)
Asparagus, trimmed

What You Do:

*Preheat oven to 350
*Lay out chicken breasts on aluminum foil that has been sprayed with a bit of cooking spray. Layer the mushrooms, then basil to taste (I didn't completely cover the chicken with basil since I used fresh), spinach leaves, and finally goat cheese.
*Fold up tightly and secure with toothpicks. Sprinkle with breadcrumbs and a bit of Italian seasoning
*Bake for about 45 minutes, turning it over about halfway through.

Bonus side dish!
*Arrange asparagus in a 9x13" baking dish and drizzle with olive oil -or- spray with your cooking spray
*Add the rest of your porcini mushrooms on top of the asparagus, and again spray it or drizzle with oil
*Sprinkle with Italian seasoning blend and, if you have it, Parmesan cheese
*Halfway through the chicken baking, toss your asparagus in the oven too. This way, they'll be done at the same time

Make sure to remove the toothpicks before serving ;) And enjoy!

Vegetarian Breakfast Casserole

2014-11-13T09:28:00.002-05:00

There's nothing like waking up in the morning, knowing exactly what you're going to make for breakfast, right? This morning I got up early, and I wanted to give King a chance to sleep in since he was up until almost 3 am. My little Monster was up most of the night coughing, and the Princess was pretty sniffly and miserable herself. That said, it was a quiet morning in our house, and I was really excited to try a new recipe that I found on Pinterest for these adorable spinach & cheese egg muffins. Much to my chagrin, I don't have a muffin pan. So that nixed that pretty quickly. I had to laugh at myself because it's so perfectly me not to have something that is a major requirement for a dish that I went to all the trouble of getting all of the ingredients for from the store and even having ZenMother pick up the spinach for me that I couldn't get at the grocery stores I went to the other day. #IslandGirlProblems ...I digress. The point is that I had to adjust my plans, but I still wanted to make something impressive. And so, I give you:

Vegetarian Breakfast Casserole

What You Need:

NOT a muffin pan ;) but instead, a 9x13" baking pan

Cooking spray of your choice

More than likely, a cup of coffee or 2 (Add a little Velvet Cinn if you wanna get wild ;)

1/4 c of butter

1 medium size onion, diced (I used sweet yellow)

16 oz mushrooms, sliced

2-4 potatoes, quartered, then thinly sliced (I used my PC Simple Slicer set on 2)

12 large eggs

1/4 c milk (you can substitute water if you're out of milk, like I usually am)

1-2 c fresh baby spinach, enough to make one layer in the pan

4-8 oz shredded cheddar cheese (or whatever cheese you have is fine)

What You Do:

*Brew your coffee. It's early, and your kids are going to be up any minute, if they aren't already.

*Turn on a nice wake-up playlist such as Brazilian Radio on Pandora

*Grease your baking dish, and preheat your oven to 350

*Melt the butter in a skillet on high heat; add in your diced onion

*Once the onion begins to look translucent, add in the mushrooms. Turn your heat down to medium. Saute for about 5 minutes until the mushrooms have cooked fully. Then, remove them from the heat.

*While the veggies are being sauteed, arrange your potato slices on the bottom of the greased pan in an even layer

*Mix your eggs & milk (or water) in your favorite fashion. I love my NutriBullet and think EVERYONE should have one. Mixing all of the eggs and milk took me all of 10 seconds. It actually took me longer to crack all of the eggs.

*Arrange the spinach in a second layer on top of the potatoes

*Pour the egg mixture in next, making sure it's evenly dispersed throughout the pan

*Add the sauteed veggies in next, again making sure it's all evenly dispersed

*Top with the cheese

*Cover with foil, and bake for 30 minutes

*Take it out, remove the foil and bake for about another 20-30 minutes, long enough for the edges to brown and the cheese to get good and melty, maybe even slightly brown

Voila!

This makes about 12 servings.

As always, let me know if you love it, tweak it, or hate it!

xoxo

-Xile

Roasted Garlic & Chive Mashed Potatoes

2014-11-12T14:09:00.000-05:00

I have been terrified of homemade mashed potatoes for years upon years. Everyone talks about getting the butter/milk ratio just right, gummy and sticky fails, and I am telling you this one worked for me on the first go, screw-ups and all...That has to mean something.

What You Need:

5 lbs of your fave potatoes (I used red)
1/2 c butter (I used salted sweet cream)
1 1/2 c milk (the fattier, the creamier your potatoes will be)
2-4 heads of fresh roasted garlic
Olive oil
1 handful of fresh-cut chives
pepper to taste

What You Do:

*Preheat oven to 400
*Pour a glass of white; I'm thinking like a Sauvignon Blanc or a nice Chardonnay. A bit of inspirational music from Michael Buble could be helpful. Cue: Pandora
*Prepare your garlic: peel off the excess skin on your heads of garlic, and trim off the head about 1/4 inch to expose each clove. Drizzle olive oil over the exposed surface and allow to penetrate the cloves. It will be somewhere in the neighborhood of 1-2 tsp per head. Wrap it together in foil, and bake it for 45-60 minutes on the middle rack. It's going to smell amazeballs. Enjoy it!
*Dice your potatoes, evenly sized, and put them in a big 'ol pan with enough water to cover them. I basically filled my dutch oven pan, and it worked out just fine. Bring them to a boil...Take care of your kids and forget about them until they nearly boil over; check them..Place a wooden spoon across the pan so they don't wreck your glass cook-top, and wait until they are slightly firm but break apart easily (about 20 minutes). Then drain them and pop them in a big mixing bowl.
*Right about now you will begin to remember that you are also roasting garlic. It smells soooo good that it inspires your husband to clean the bathroom. Check on it, but don't get overzealous. The longer it roasts, the better. Just don't let it burn. And that's pretty difficult, even while you're drinking wine. When you feel like it's uber soft and smelly, go ahead and pull it out of the oven.
*In a saucepan, add your milk and butter. Your garlic will have cooled enough by now to add it to the potatoes. I just squeezed it out right into the potatoes, and I might have tasted a bit that was left on my fingers ;)
*When you forget that you were supposed to only allow the butter to just melt, realize that the entire thing is about to boil over, and remove it from the heat. Let it set for a couple minutes while you begin to mash the potatoes just ever so slightly in the big giant bowl. I used my Pampered Chef Mix-N-Chop (AMAZING tool). Once the overly heated butter/milk mixture has cooled, add it to the potatoes slowly and use a hand mixer to blend it all together. Throw in a handful of chives, pepper to taste, and mix just a bit more.

THAT'S IT!!! Super easy mashed potatoes that aren't scary!

Please comment if you make them, how it works for your family and if you have any tweaks to share!

xoxo
-Xile

Pancakes for People Who Don't Like Pancakes: Apple Pecan Pancake Bake

2014-11-12T12:57:00.000-05:00

I have been on a mission to make pancakes that *I* like for most of my life. I am just not a fan of them. I feel like they're overrated, having restaurants named after them and such. I mean, I know that waffles have restaurants named after them, too, but seriously...pancakes aren't that amazing...until today, that is. Today, even those of us who don't care for pancakes are going to lose their minds in an orgasmic food coma. Or maybe not, but I can promise that even pancake skeptics will love this recipe that is perfect for fall brunches!

What You Need:

2 cups flour (better for bread is awesome. Don't use whole wheat flour because it's too heavy)
2 Tbs white sugar
2 Tbs brown sugar
2 Tbs baking powder
2 eggs
2 cups milk
1/4 c vegetable oil
2 small or 1 large granny smith apple (don't use a red or golden delicious. You need something a bit tart), sliced thinly
1 c pecans, chopped
An indefinite amount of cinnamon (whatever you are comfortable with, I used close to probably 2 Tbs)
A dash of nutmeg
A dash of ginger

Your favorite syrup
Butter

What You Do:

*Preheat your oven to 350.
*Pour yourself a mimosa, and turn on Pandora ;)
*Mix your dry ingredients together. I put enough cinnamon to change the color of the mix to a beige-y color. It's really impossible to measure, but go with your gut. Then add your wet ingredients and mix until it's nice and smooth.
*Add your apples and pecans and mix a bit more until it's even
*Pour into a greased 9x13" baking pan of your choice.
*Pop it in the oven for about 30 minutes, until you can stick a toothpick/knife in the center and it comes out clean. The edges will start to be a bit brown

Serve topped with a bit of butter and your favorite syrup. I swear, I don't like pancakes, and this stuff is incredible. Let me know how it turns out for you!

-xoxo
Xile

Goddess-Worthy Sweet & Sour Pork Tenderloin

2014-11-11T17:42:00.000-05:00

Hi there, it's me! I'm still alive and well out floating in the Caribbean Sea. Okay, well, I mean...I am on an island that is floating. Anyway, I know it's been forever, but that's what you get when it comes to me ;) Today I'm going to make everyone in your house love you by giving you a recipe for amazing sweet & sour pork.

I cannot tell a lie: this recipe is adapted from this one, BUT I made enough changes that I thought it worthy of posting my own. So let's get to it!

This recipe will give you at least 6 servings, depending on how many boys/men you have in your house that like to go back for more. That said, here's what you are going to need:

1.5 lbs of pork tenderloin, trimmed of the fat
An undisclosed and indefinite amount of Simply Asia® Sweet Ginger Garlic Seasoning
⅔c ketchup
⅓c rice vinegar (seasoned or plain, I used plain)
2 cans (20 oz)of pineapple chunks drained, save the juice & make sure it's pineapple juice, NOT heavy or light syrup. ew.
¼c brown sugar (dark or light, whichever you have)
2-4 tsp of Sriracha® I used only 2 because I have young ladies that can't agree on how much spice they prefer
2 tsp soy sauce
A splash of Sesame Tempura oil
2 tbs butter (REAL butter, people, no margarine)
1 bunch of green onions, chopped and separated white part from green
1 head of fresh garlic, sliced paper thin. Alternatively, you can mince it, but I prefer it shaved --don't be lazy and use a jar, please ;)
1 sweet onion, diced
2 green peppers, I like to dice them large
1 red pepper, also diced large
2 cups rice of your choice (We used Jasmine white rice)

Here's what you do:

*Prepare your pork. (HAHAHA, okay I'm immature) Using a meat tenderizer, pound out the meat until it's about 1 inch thick. Coat it with the Asian seasoning on both sides, then slice it up into manageable pieces, maybe about half an inch thick and 1.5-2" in length. Toss it in a bowl in the fridge to marinate for a couple hours. It's not major, but it will definitely add flavor.
*Prepare the initial sauce mix. In a bowl, whisk together the ketchup, rice vinegar, pineapple juice (NOT syrup!) from the canned pineapple, Sriracha, soy sauce, and brown sugar. Pour a splash (just enough to coat) of that into your pork marinade.
*Now is a good time to start your rice. I like to make mine in the microwave with my super awesome Pampered Chef rice cooker so that it's done before I forget in the midst of making the meal that I forgot to make it. 2 cups of dry rice will give you 4 cups of prepared rice. If you need instructions on how to make rice, please see the package on whatever rice you bought :p
*Have a glass of wine. Turn on your favorite Pandora station and jam out for a minute or 2. Remember that you have to chop all the veggies, jam out some more, and then put everything in the fridge until you're ready to cook the pork and put everything together. Maybe have a second glass of wine, who knows?!
*Heat your favorite tempura oil in your wok or a very large skillet...like probably 14" or so. Toss some more of that Asian seasoning in with the oil. What can I say, I'm addicted! Once it's nice and hot, stir fry the pork. This will take about 5 minutes probably. Do NOT overcook the pork. It's going to keep cooking a little while later. Take it out and put it aside in a big mixing bowl. Drain whatever grease and oil is in the pan and saute your veggies (sweet onion, green/red peppers) for a couple minutes until they have a bright color. Seriously like 3-4 minutes tops. Toss the veggies in the same bowl with the mostly cooked pork.
*Brown your butter over medium heat and once it begins to brown...toss in the pineapple. Cook the pineapple over medium/high heat until it's a beautiful golden yellow and more opaque. Add your initial sauce mixture, along with your sliced garlic and the white part of the green onion. Reduce your heat to medium/low and let it simmer until the garlic is translucent. Then add the pork and veggies back to the pan and heat it through.
*Serve it over your rice with a green onion garnish.

Remember to let me know how your family enjoyed it! Thanks for reading!

xoxo
-Xile

West Is Best ...Well, at Least For Today It Was!

2014-06-05T18:43:00.001-04:00

I am beginning to notice that what they say is true: positive thought begets positive thought. And positive thoughts in succession beget positive action. And pretty soon, you realize that being positive is so much better than being pissy all the time, regardless of just how much crazy you've been handed in your life.

That being said, one of my dearest sisters returned to our beautiful island home just 9 days ago...and is leaving again to go back Stateside to take care of some family and business matters that came up less than 24 hours after she landed here. (UGH! WHAT?!) However, we thought we better enjoy our time together since it has been so brief.

In that spirit, and the spirit of new adventures (still occurring even after living here for a year!), we headed to Frederiksted this morning after a "walk" (read: hike) down to the beach near our houses. I had heard of a labyrinth that was way out west, and I thought it would be a great sort of end to her (all-too-brief) trip here and a great springboard for her time back in the States.

As a bonus, the labyrinth is located on the grounds of an old plantation, and the grounds were just unbelievably beautiful!

After exploring the ruins and walking around the plantation, we decided to take a dip at one of everyone's favorite beaches here, Rainbow Beach. It's so beautiful there, and the water was just perfect today!

After our refreshing swim at Rainbow, we noshed at our very favorite West End spot for lunch: Teres Veho. I can't recommend this place enough times, not just for the amazing eats, but also they have a small SUP (stand up paddle) shop where you can rent paddle boards and other fun water accessories! The view is also amazing, especially on cruise ship days with an unobstructed view of the gigantic ships that visit our piece of paradise :)

Finally, as our grand finale, Tan-Tan requested that we jump off the pier. As I'd not done it before, and it's kind of a rite of passage (and also because of peer pressure), I reluctantly agreed to get crazy and do it! As scary as it was, I did it twice, and it's one of those things that is scary and amazingly FUN at the same time! And I'll definitely do it again...and again...and again!

Where we jumped!

I will most definitely miss our Zen Mother (Maw), but I am incredibly grateful that we were able to spend this very special day together with another one of our beautiful sisters, our hoop queen :-) Love you both very much!

3 Islands, 1 Day: A St. John Adventure

2014-04-22T11:40:00.001-04:00

So I have this friend who is definitively spontaneous. She is one of the most incredible human beings I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. We went to breakfast the other day near the seaplane dock in town, and she looks at me and says, "Hey, you wanna go to St. John for the day?" I laughed quickly and then looked at her and realized she was 100% serious. So we walked over there after breakfast, and we realized that we were sorta too late to do it that day since King had to work later in the afternoon...and decided we do it a couple days later instead.

One thing I love about her is that she just has this zest for life and completely embodies the spirit of "tomorrow is not promised" and "carpe diem". She definitely encourages me to do one thing that scares me every day. Have you heard of that phrase? Well, I really thought I wasn't afraid of much, but this adventure was definitely within that realm. I mean, it's not like we went skydiving or anything, but since becoming a mother, I've been a lot less likely to take any sort of risks. So yes, I definitely did something a bit scary and went island hopping for the day!

The photo below is not a picture of a toy. It is an actual airplane. That I rode. When we walked out onto the tarmac I was looking at it going, "this is not for real. Is that thing remote controlled? I mean, can you fit actual humans in that thing?" Spunky is a bit of a nervous flier, though, so I pushed all that fear aside and decided it was totally 100% safe. Not only that, it can fit up to 10 actual humans!

The mandatory pre-take-off airplane selfie.

Two other people joined us on our flight to St. Thomas (there is no airport on St. John), one of them being Donastorg, who is a gubernatorial candidate for the upcoming election here in the US Virgin Islands. He had brought a super adorable puppy with him, but he wasn't allowed to bring him aboard due to the fact that he was not in a proper carrier. Fortunately, Mr. Donastorg has plenty of associates who were able to make sure that the puppy was in good hands while he traveled.

Flying in a turbo prop is a bit different than flying on a commercial jet! It may have been a bit scary, but the views are unmatched! This is the view as we were coming into St. Thomas.

Our pilot from Cape Air was such a sweetheart! He did a great job making sure that we were comfortable and safe, and he didn't bat an eye when we asked for a photo op at the end of our journey! He thought he was going to be flying us back to St. Croix later that day, but unfortunately he was done for the day when we went back.

Being the perfect Gubernatorial Candidate, Mr. Donastorg offered to pose for a photo with us as well. AND when he realized that we were looking to get a gypsy cab into Red Hook to catch the ferry, he offered to give us a ride out to the main road. A classic taxi would have cost us a considerable amount of money, as opposed to the $2 gypsy cab ride. His driver's music choice was a bit...odd (gangster rap?)...but they were both very kind and hospitable and helped get our adventure off to a great start!

We had to walk a bit to catch a cab, but that just added to the adventure! I really like the idea of the gypsy cabs. They are open air cabs that have plenty of seating for lots of people. They run one main route around the island, and they are really affordable. It's a simple $2 charge per ride! We went all the way from Charlotte Amalie to Red Hook, which would have cost us $30 for a classic cab.

The ride across St. Thomas definitely affected me in an unexpected way. I was very overwhelmed with how busy it is there. When I say busy, I mean crowded. And when I say crowded, I am not just talking about people. There was only one cruise ship docked that day, but o.m.g. There were just countless amounts of buildings and vehicles and shopping centers and people and noises and restaurants and...just A LOT. I didn't even realize that I had become very anxious until Spunky asked me if I was okay because I had gotten incredibly quiet. I assured her that I was just fine, but I didn't even realize that I was most definitely NOT fine until later. In moving to St. Croix, I have learned to live on island time. Life is slower, it's more relaxed. It's quieter and not nearly as busy as anywhere else on Earth. So that gypsy cab ride across a very bustling island was not my favorite part of our little adventure!

Once we arrived at Red Hook, we were starving. Rather than hurry to catch the next ferry to St. John, we decided to relax (MUCH NEEDED) for a moment, catch our breath, and have breakfast at Molly Malone's. This place was just what we needed. The service was fast, the food was reasonably priced and yummy, and how can you beat BOTTOMLESS bevies for $12?!?! The only thing I could really pout about was that I had 3 Bloody Mary's and a mimosa and didn't feel the least bit tipsy. So let's remember they're bottomless for a reason ;) The drinks were still tasty, though!

Here we are on the ferry from Red Hook to St. John. The best part about this ferry ride was that it was open air (errr..water?) and so we got SOAKED once the boat picked up to full speed out in the open water.

Above is where the ferry drops off at St. John in Cruz Bay. It's an amazing view, and it definitely sets the bar pretty high as far as beautiful scenery. Right off the boat, there were open air cabs waiting to take everyone to their beach of choice ---well, unless you want to go to the other side of the island in Coral Bay (which we found out later). We decided to hang out in Cruz Bay for a bit and to poke around at Mongoose Junction to see what all the shops had to offer. I really loved the "tree house" feel of this eclectic little shopping area. There were plenty of shops to explore ranging from budget bargains all the way up to luxury splurges. So it is a great little spot for everyone!

We grabbed a quick bevy (classic rum punch) at Ocean Grill, and I must say that it wasn't my favorite drink on island (small size and had a major bite). They did have a nice selection of different specialty drinks, including rum-tinis, which might have been fun if we had more time to spend there. The atmosphere there was cute, but there wasn't much of a view, being that it is right in the center of the shopping area.

After our mini shopping excursion, we decided to hop into one of the cabs and check out Cinnamon Bay, where we were thinking we might stay for a girls' trip later this summer. The cab ride is $7/pp if you have more than one person, $6/pp if you are going to Trunk Bay. We had a very charismatic cabby, and I really do think it made a big difference! We couldn't really understand much of what he was saying over the speaker, but he had a wealth of knowledge about the island and gave us a mini-tour while we were en route to Cinnamon Bay. This little ride was one of the best parts about the adventure! The views are incredible, and it's fun to share a ride with random people! It definitely had the feeling of being on a safari ride at an amusement park, but it was MUCH more beautiful than any amusement park I've ever been to!

Cabby view from above Trunk Bay

Cabby view of the beach at Trunk Bay

After a quick recon mission at Cinnamon Bay, we decided that it might not be for us. It's part of the National Park, and Cinnamon Bay is one of the longest stretches of beach on St. John. However, the cabins we were thinking about renting were in quite a state of disrepair (think rat-chewed mattresses and ripped bug screens), and the restaurant was buffet style, open air in the middle of the woods..nowhere near the beach. We are quite spoiled here in St. Croix in that nearly (if not) all of the resort restaurants are located just steps from the beach with sweeping views of the Caribbean Sea.

We then decided to ask our cabby if he might take us down to Concordia in Saltpond Bay, and we were rather disappointed when he told us that it wouldn't be in the cards. "I don't know if I can do that today," he said. It is quite far from where we were, and I suppose he had the potential to make more money by shuffling tourists to and from the ferry dock instead. This goes back to what I mentioned earlier about cabbies offering to take you to your beach of choice (with an asterisk). Coral Bay is on the opposite side of the island, and I am told that it is more eclectic and rural than the Cruz Bay area.

Since we were rather disappointed at Cinnamon Bay, we decided to head back to Cruz Bay and check out a cute little bar that we saw on the way in:

The Beach Bar.

The Beach Bar is where we spent the majority of our time, and I'm not even the least bit mad about it. The atmosphere was very relaxed and also very hip at the same time. We noshed on some crab wontons (reminiscent of crab rangoon) and fish tacos while sipping on a frozen bevy (BBC for me, and Lime in da Coconut for Spunky) and enjoying some amazing people watching! The food was really good, and the drinks were great as well. The staff was super friendly, and they didn't hesitate in offering us some insider tips for our upcoming girls' trip. They have a cute little surf shop that is attached to the restaurant with super friendly staff there as well.

The people watching was definitely my favorite thing about The Beach Bar, though, next to the amazing view of the harbor. There was a fun group of tourists from Texas that had just arrived and were kind enough to take our photo! One of the girls was really adorable and jumped into the water and exclaimed, "What have we been doing with our lives?!" And then she took her swimsuit top off and invited us to join her for a swim.

Please note: it is not a great idea to swim in an area where lots of boats are anchored. The water is not very clean! We decided not to join her, but we did enjoy watching their group have a great time!

We decided we should probably venture out and see another place before we had to ferry back to St. Thomas to catch our evening flight, and so we asked one of the guys at the surf shop attached to The Beach Bar where we definitely should not miss going. At his recommendation, we went to Woody's for Happy Hour!

This place was definitely a must see if you are looking for a great party spot. This year's Virgin Islands Daily News winner of Most Entertaining Bar did not disappoint! The bartenders were gorgeous (girls), the drinks were cheap ($1 beers for happy hour!), and the music (country) was loud! Our pick for favorite drink was the "Stiff Willy," which is a rum concoction of sorts. Yum. And since the theme of the day had been eating (well, and boozing), we couldn't leave without trying a couple appetizers. I had the grilled scallops (AMAZING) and Spunky ordered the poppers: also great, but beware the "molten" cheese, as described by our bartender, Becca.

By the end of the day, we were both sufficiently exhausted and ready to make our way back to St. Croix. We had so many laughs, so much food, and more drinks than we could count on our fingers.

I think the funniest (and scariest) part of our trip, though, was our cab ride back to the airport in St. Thomas. We took a traditional cab this time so we could get there more quickly (we took a later ferry from STJ because we were having so much fun at Woody's), and it was not uneventful! Our cabby was quiet, and we were super loud. Well, we're both a bit loud by nature, but our cabby kept turning up the radio. I'm not even sure if Spunky noticed it, but I got a good chuckle out of that. So, we got to a stoplight about maybe 10 minutes or less from the airport when I saw smoke coming from what could be the hood of our cab. I asked, "Umm, that smoke isn't coming from OUR car, right?!" He assured me that it was coming from the big truck that we were next to while at the stoplight. Well, a couple of lights later he laughed and said, "ooohhh, that is my car!" OMG. I about lost it, and Spunky was laughing. I was just wringing my hands and shaking my leg...PLEASE let us make it to the airport alive...and ON TIME!!! I can't tell you what the hell was wrong with dude's cab, but I can tell you that we made it to the airport safely and with plenty of time to catch our flight back home.

We had such a fabulous time together, and I can't wait for our next adventure!

Why Do Fools (Codependents) Love Their (Narcissist) Moms?

2014-04-03T08:30:00.000-04:00

I'm so thankful for Google, I swear. I think I'm almost as thankful for Google as I am that I ever called McHottie's office number.

So, this crazy thing happened (Shocking, I know). Okay, bear with me here while I give you a pretty substantial amount of backstory, seeing as how I haven't written in awhile again.

Mamabear moved to our peaceful little island in December. Okay, well, maybe not entirely peaceful -but way less turbulent than our lives were Stateside. Anyway, we knew it was going to be...stressful, living with Mamabear. However, she really wanted to move right away (read: jump ship), and so we welcomed her with open arms. Well, I mean, we were hopeful that she would hold true to her word that she was uber-missing her grandbabies, and she wanted to help King and I reconnect (we had quite a bit of trauma involving Aunt Trip last summer).

From a couple of days in, we knew it wasn't going to be like...you know, a picnic on the beach or anything. However, I had hoped that gentle coaching (as opposed to my usual bluntness) would help her see that her Stateside behavior/habits just weren't going to be acceptable here. The high level of expectations (What's for dinner? What are the plans today? Are there any clean towels? I'm really going to need help acquiring transportation aside from this short term rental... It's absolutely mandatory that I shop on Christmas Eve!), the overuse of limited resources (ie. water & electricity), among other things were just the beginning of the challenges. After several attempts at 'big talks,' in which I attempted to impress upon her that she was being rather selfish & unrealistic (without damaging her fragile ego), I gave up entirely. I felt that I was wasting time and precious oxygen, and I really thought (foolishly) that I could just let it go. Really though, I wasn't letting go of anything. I was letting everything fester.

A few days prior to my "ah-ha moment" (which I am leading up to), I had asked her to watch the girls for a bit (an hour, to be exact) so that I might go down the road to enjoy a cocktail and catch up with some friends. I came home around 7:30pm to find my youngest asleep, my eldest awake (thankfully, quietly watching Netflix) and Mamabear passed out in my bed -mouth open and snoring. A few seconds later (maybe 30?) she said, "Boo!" and tried to pass it off as though she was only pretending to sleep. I didn't even acknowledge it. I said nothing, but I was determined not to leave them with her again. This was at least the 3rd time I had come home to her not taking care of my children in some form or fashion.

Fast forward to what started out as a most promising, beautiful Sunday on the beach, complete with good friends, food, and drinks (yes, the adult variety). We had been having such a great time that King decided he would take the Jeep back to Mamabear at work (it was time for him to go in, and she had finished up). She could then bring the Jeep back to the beach and join us (We had been sharing a vehicle since she moved down).

Something set me off. I am not exactly sure what, as my memory from the time she arrived at the beach until much later that night has failed me. From the accounts of my friends who were there, she was "stewing" while sitting on the beach watching the rest of us have a good time in the water. I then became belligerent, and it was time to go. I didn't want to go home, but my friends advised me that it was not a good idea to leave the girls alone with her again, though that would have given me the time I needed to cool down. That left me in quite the predicament, right? Go home knowing I'm unbelievably angry and likely face confrontation...or leave my girls with someone who provides about as much care for them as my animals could. I rode back home with my friends, while the girls rode back with Mamabear.

When we arrived home, I remember repeatedly telling her she needed to get out of my house. I also remember her repeatedly denying my requests. I have also been recounted this story by my friend (we'll call her Jane) who was present. Jane decided to get the girls showered, and in that time frame, I ended up on my back with Mamabear on top of me, repeatedly bashing my head into the tile floor and striking me in the face. I don't remember most of it...I do remember crying for Jane...I am eternally grateful that she was there. If not for her, I'm not sure I'd even be writing this entry right now (or ever). In the end, I looked like I have been feeling all these years -a human punching bag. Jane believes that I must have lost consciousness at some point. I couldn't say honestly whether I did or did not. All I know is that no one deserves to be treated in such a way, no matter how 'drunk' or 'unreasonable' she may be.

I spent several days in my house due to unrelenting migraines and swelling and bruising that could never have been covered with any amount of makeup. Truthfully, I should have gone to the hospital. She went to work the next day (after having been nearly forcibly removed from our home by King) with a few scratches and a bruise on her arm and made sure that everyone she encountered knew that it was because of my belligerence and unprovoked attack on her. She told people that she suspected that I had been using illegal drugs (she even accused me directly of this). She told others that I am an alcoholic and also that I shouldn't be drinking in combination with my (imaginary) anti-depressants. She then (of course) vehemently denies saying any of it and has blamed "the unreliable coconut telegraph" for the exaggerated misinformation.

It must be noted that I do not believe I am without fault here. I know that I acted completely irrationally and out of turn. I know that I completely lost control of my anger and acted inappropriately. I am quite sure there was a better time and place to handle my issues, and obviously there must be a better way to communicate apart from a violent confrontation. However, I did not use any illegal substances, nor did I misuse any prescription medications, as I am not currently prescribed any. I am absolutely at fault for my actions and sorry for the way I behaved.

It must also be noted that she has apologized for hurting me, but that apology is not without an asterisk. She has pleaded with me to understand that she would not have hurt me so badly had she not been provoked by me and had I not 'attacked' her 'out of nowhere'. So while she is sorry, I am still at fault for her inappropriate display of anger toward me. She also wholeheartedly denies that I had a concussion and insists that my memory loss is due 100% to my level of intoxication. Along with that, she does not believe she has gossiped to anyone about the incident.

Whatever the case, no one deserves what happened to me -no one. And there is absolutely no justification for this woman's actions...unless she's a Narcissist.

This brings me to Google. I didn't even use the word. I asked the question, "why does my mother lie to me?" Once I got past all of the "Santa Claus" nonsense, I came across the very accusatory term: Narcissist. I didn't think it was possible because of how 'fragile' and 'sensitive' she is. I swear it never even crossed my mind, but it's the only thing that makes any sense.

I read the first article, and it was like someone finally turned the lights on in my head. Nearly every single point was describing my mother and my childhood. And I have been the perfect codependent child. It's quite disturbing, really. However, at the same time as being entirely disturbing, it was nice for things to begin to add up properly. I just kept shaking my head and laughing hysterically at myself, as article after article kept pointing to the same thing...My mother is a narcissist.

I even went back and read some of my earlier blog entries and realized that I have been protecting her this entire time, making sure not to damage her fragile and sensitive ego. Meanwhile, she has played me for a fool...a pawn on her chessboard of life. I am only as good as I am useful in making her feel better about herself. I am just a trophy on a shelf for her to polish and, within it, admire herself. For 30 years, I have played into her hands and she has been my puppet master.

I guess the long and short of things here is that through this terrible tragedy, I have learned a great deal. I have learned that it's time to get back onto that green (or blue) sofa. My work in therapy is clearly not finished, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. At least there's a light. I have learned (yet again) that I'm really not as crazy as my parents (well, my entire family really) would like me to believe. I have learned that you can't just let go of things that require reparations. I have learned that it's not worth sacrificing oneself for a superficial relationship with a parent who is incapable of reciprocating authentic love.

So, all in all, I suppose getting smacked upside the head actually did do me a bit of good...

~~~If you suspect that one (or both) of your parents may be Narcissistic, I highly recommend reading~~~

Toxic Parents: Overcoming Their Hurtful Legacy and Reclaiming Your Life

Will I Ever Be Good Enough?: Healing the Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers

The Wizard of Oz and Other Narcissists: Coping with the One-Way Relationship in Work, Love, and Family

Phantom of the Caribbean

2013-10-29T10:30:00.000-04:00

The smell of the salt in the air, the trade winds gently brush the hair from my face. I close my eyes and open them again. Close. Open. Close... Open...there it is. It doesn't move. The only change in this stunning view is the color of the clouds as the sun disappears for the night. The bright Caribbean colors smile from the buildings that peek out from the hillside. Close. ...Breathe... Open...I step down from my perch on the picnic table and press my toes into the sand. Close...I lift my head to the sky and feel him wrap his arms around my waist, he kisses my neck. ...Turn around... Open...just me. Close.
...Open... I walk slowly, purposefully into the tide and feel a chill as the water swirls seductively around my feet. I lift my sundress to the side in an attempt to keep it dry. Close...he takes my hand to help steady me in the water. Open...Alone again... Close...he whispers in my ear, "dance with me..." I whirl around; Open...and he's gone. ...Close...he kisses my hand and bows as a true gentleman does. We dance along the shoreline to the nighttime Caribbean chorus with abandon. The full moon lights our dance floor, and we twirl, my dress flowing beautifully in the breeze. ...Open...and I smile. ...Close..."thank you for the dance," Open; the waves crash onto my feet. It was only one moment, one simple moment, just one time, but his presence haunts me... Close...he kisses my forehead and whispers, "goodnight, my sweet." ...Open...Exhale...I bite my forefinger and giggle like a little girl. I curtsy and blow a kiss with both hands out to sea. "See you in my dreams," I tell him.
I hop gracefully back up onto the picnic table, and as I look up to the heavens a shooting star waves to me. He'll be back. I'll wait for him. He is my Phantom of the Caribbean, the love I've been seeking without searching, the love that will fill my soul the way it craves. I'll be patient. In the meantime, I dance with him at sunset, and he kisses me through the breeze. I see his smile in the sun each day, and he whispers in the waves.

The Best Laid Plans Go To St. Croix

2013-10-11T09:53:00.002-04:00

I seriously need to read my own blog more often. Well, and also I should probably write more. Yesterday, someone asked me what I do to relax, and I had to ask King to be able to answer. I have no idea. I have spent the last several months running nonstop, preparing for a move, moving, settling, scrambling to pay bills, trying to network, take care of children, and maintain a social life (WHAT?!).

I just went back and read my last entry, and I am so glad that I did. It was perfect timing. Sometimes we all need a little inspiration and a kick in the ass. I'm there. So, since I've been neglecting everyone since MARCH(?!?!), I shall give you an update.

In March, we had decided to move in 12 months. As some of the best laid plans do, this one went astray...all the way to St. Croix. So I suppose this plan didn't so much go astray as it did go into hyper-drive. Regardless, lots of things have happened since then: good, bad, and who-gives-a-damn kinda things.

I visited this island paradise in April, and it was love at first sight. I was so enamored, in fact, that I didn't want to leave. I did, though, and I told King when I stepped off the plane in Indy that we were going to move sooner. We moved June 1st, 2013, and there is no looking back. There is only looking forward...to the ocean, to the sunsets, to the cheap rum(!), and to all the amazing experiences that we have each day.

The people here are so different than anywhere else. Is there drama? Of course! No place would be complete without a little storyline, right? What is here, though, that you don't find stateside is unconditional generosity and love. I'm not sure this place is overly religious or anything, but the golden rule here is to love thy neighbor...and his neighbor, and his brother's neighbor...aww, hell....just love everybody! And buy he a next one, irie? (That's Crucian speak for: and buy him another drink, all right?) We bought a car, and it broke down after a couple months of being here. Someone that we barely knew offered to allow us to use his vehicle while we were waiting to fix ours because he had three and only needed two. That's just ONE example. It is ingrained in the culture here to protect and help one another, to be there for each other, and just to simply love.

Anyway, I haven't seen McHottie since just before we moved (sigh). I miss him. I miss his encouraging words, his comfy sofa, and his ability to make me see through the crazy in my life. However, crazy has most definitely taken a backseat, as it tends to do when you are thousands of miles away from it. I still have moments where I'm sad, where I feel like I have a hole in my heart, but those moments seem to be fewer and further between. The hole is being filled by friends, my true family here, those who know where my heart is.

I seriously cannot believe it is October, though. Time flies when you're having rum? Kidding, I usually drink beer anyway. Maybe I can't believe it's October because it's still 90 degrees here everyday? No matter what the reason, though, we are coming into "season" here, which means that business will be coming back to life, and the beaches will be blanketed with ghostly (and conversely, lobstered) tourists.

I wish I had a love story to share, but, alas, I do not...Hopefully that is on the horizon, though. Until next time, I'll leave you with some pix!

Sunset at Chenay Bay

The Tide Pools at Carambola

Lunch on the Boardwalk at Rum Runners

My Princess with Chuck Wicks at Divi Carina Bay

Girls Playing at sunset on the beach at Tamarind Reef

Perfectionism At Its Finest

2013-03-04T17:59:00.000-05:00

I love therapy. I know you've never ever heard me say this. In all actuality, you will probably never hear me say it (errr...write it) again. McHottie makes me tingle in ways every man who has ever been with me (or wanted to be with me) probably WISHES he could make me tingle. That's how amazing he is...at therapizing me. To note: the sofa is now navy blue.

I'm supposed to be talking to myself these days now...more than usual...different than the usual, I suppose. I am supposed to be working on convincing myself that everyone in my life who has been close to me for most (or all) of my life is wrong. To quote: "Your father's abandonment...your mother's criticism...your sister's sense of entitlement and competition...Those things have no bearing on your daily life." I have to push everything that I've been told aside and, instead, focus on what I know to be true in my heart. *Ahem* What I know to be true (apparently, somewhere deep down) is that I am fucking awesome, basically. I'm seriously laughing as I type this, though, because I am not sure where exactly that deep down place is.

I've been taught to find imperfections in everything I do: my house is messy, my kids are undisciplined, I have no college degree, I have no job, no direction. I'm divorced. I was kicked out of the Coast Guard. I'm certifiably insane. I have at least 3 gray hairs, I have expression lines in my forehead...I am mean to my husband, I can't bake, I'm an alcoholic (though non-practicing)...I have shitty credit...A couple of my back molars are slightly crooked. My ears are oddly small. I have a flair for the dramatics and, in fact, I purposely seek out drama. I'm narcissistic. I'm fat. I'm a liar. I manipulate people. I have a "Princess Complex" (whatever that means). The list goes on, I'm quite sure. The closest people in your life are the ones with the power to hurt you the most. They know the buttons so well that they can push them even while texting and driving. It's that easy.

The funny (horrifying?) thing is that all of the things that I listed above are things that are true and/or things that I've been told by various members of my family. I'm not even sure that these people meant to hurt me, or definitely didn't mean to inflict nearly as much damage as they have over the years. I don't think these people really thought about how the things they said could (did) affect me. McHottie tells me that I have all the right tools to believe in myself, be successful and happy and healthy, and yet...I can't manage to get there. It's like I have all the tools to fix myself, and I have no idea how to use them. Someone needs to give me an instruction manual for this shit. Seriously.

People see a false sense of confidence in me whenever I compliment myself or talk about how awesome I am. It's like I'm talking to myself, trying to make myself believe what I'm saying...but really, it's total bullshit. When someone compliments me, it makes me feel uncomfortable...and I'm not sure how to react. I mean, it's one of two ways: you're lying, but thanks for trying to make me feel better... ~or~ I know, right?! I mean, I guess the normal reaction to a compliment is to thank the person...but I'm so accustomed to waiting for the "but" at the end of the compliment that it seems like the person isn't finished.

Example: "You are so beautiful..." but your ears are a bit small. <---see?? So I'm kind of always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I know it probably sounds crazy, but I swear to you it's true. There is always a "but" in my family.

So, NOW when someone compliments me (because it does happen quite often, actually), I need to learn to say "thank you" externally and via my internal monologue say, "you're damn right, biatch!" It's funny that I am laughing as I type. The thought of telling myself that I am a good person kinda cracks me up. I shouldn't have to do it. I shouldn't have to feel more like a crazy person by talking to myself in order to feel less like a crazy person who has no self-worth. Alas, my world is full of ironic twists, isn't it? McHottie says to talk to myself. He says to tell myself that I am a good person. I am fair. I am forgiving. I am worthy. I am beautiful. I am talented. <---already feeling like a Narcissist. <---Shut up, asshole. McHottie told you to do this. (see my inner conflict here?)

It's interesting to me that I am so careful about what I say and the things that I do now, though. I'm so calculated because I care deeply about the people in my life. I care about how I make them feel. I even care about people that I don't know in that I have a sense of responsibility to humanity as a whole. King tells me that the way that I view the world, though, isn't how everyone else does. In fact, it is apparently not how most people view others. I told him that I think it's so much harder to be an asshole than it is to be a good person. It's so easy for me to love. It's easy for me to reach out to people, make friends, do nice things, and take care of people. It makes me feel amazing inside and out. Conversely, I feel like absolute shit if I am nasty to someone just for the sake of being nasty. That's not to say that I can't get mean (because my blog is living proof that I can, when necessary), but it takes more effort...a LOT more effort.

I guess I just wish that my family viewed the world the way that I do. I wish they would see the beauty in the world, instead of the imperfections. I wish they would see how much I have done with my life, rather than what I wasn't able to do or didn't finish. I wish they would see the things that McHottie sees in me...I wish they would see the things King sees. In fact, I wish I could see those things. I want so desperately to push all of the negativity and harsh criticism out of my head and my heart and just realize (truly) what those who love me (the ones who TRULY love me) see in me:

My house is messy because I run a business from home and would rather play with my girls than clean up after them. My kids are "undisciplined" because I parent by natural consequence and don't lay a finger on them if they "step out of line." I have no college degree because I couldn't get enough financial aid to finish, and I fell in love instead. I have no job that pays the way that most people's jobs do...because I am self-employed. I am always moving in a forward direction, whether east or north or west or south... I'm divorced but currently in a relationship with a great man. I was kicked out of the Coast Guard because I was depressed and suicidal, and it wasn't my path. I'm certifiably insane because my family makes me so. I have at least 3 gray hairs, and I have expression lines in my forehead to show that I have lived and stressed and am real...I am mean to my husband when he doesn't treat me like I deserve to be treated. I can't bake, but I am a badass cook. I'm an ~~alcoholic (though non-practicing)~~ wine enthusiast...I have shitty credit because I made some bad decisions in the past...A couple of my back molars are slightly crooked, which adds to my unique character. My ears are oddly small, but I still hear just fine. I have a flair for the dramatics and, in fact, I purposely seek out drama...on BravoTV. I'm narcissistic because my doctor told me to be. I'm fat, but I'm working on that. I'm a ~~liar~~ truth teller. I ~~manipulate~~ inspire people. I have a "Princess Complex" because I believe every woman deserves to be treated as such.

It's so difficult to crawl out of this hole that has swallowed my hope, my love, and my lust for life. There are some days that I don't even care to leave my bed, if I'm being honest. I mean, we do have 1600 thread count sheets...so...But honestly, I have decided to do it anyway. I've decided not to allow these criticisms and untruths define me. And I won't let these things affect my children. King and I have decided to move. We've decided to leave the Midwest in favor of a warmer, breezier, more beautiful climate with a view. I'm excited. For the first time in awhile, I feel sincerely and whole-heartedly hopeful. So, we've set a date...and we're moving to St. Croix. <3

Here's to ME.

What Are You Looking For?

2013-02-19T19:46:00.002-05:00

So, I'm schmingle. It's a word, just trust me on this. Basically, I'm married, but we date if the opportunity arises. You know, it's this crazy principle in which we love each other deeply but are also open to the idea that we can love other people just as deeply and maybe even differently than we do each other. Anyhoo, so King encouraged me to join this dating site a little while back, which you may remember that I did because I was bored...and feeling a bit reminiscent at the time. Regardless, I find it mostly obnoxious...and have only met one person thus far (outside of the internet) who I have connected with on a genuine and (possibly) romantic level. He's a bit busy in his own life right now though, so it hasn't amounted to anything but a sincere friendship. Please understand that I am totally fine with that, as I am pretty fuckin' busy in my own life as well.

So I'm there, on this dating site, and I get flooded with emails from douches. Yeah, it's mainly been total douches. "Hey, you're hot..." "I'm in town for a few days, wanna chat (read: screw)?" ..."I read your entire profile. You're long-winded." ...the list goes on, and there are triples of most of those "conversation starters." Ridiculous. How on EARTH am I supposed to respond to these ridiculous advances? I've thought about some good replies: "Yes, in fact, I am hot. My temperature is currently a steamy 98.6° Fahrenheit. Thanks for your astute observation" ..."thanks for the offer, but I'm not looking for any STDs at the moment. I'll be sure to let you know if anything changes." ..."I'm a writer. Ergo, long-winded. Get over it and quit wasting your time insulting me on a dating website. Here's your douche card. I think you might be missing it."

Well, from time to time, I actually get into some interesting conversations with really cool people. In fact, I am currently conversing with several very seemingly awesome people. That being said, I'm about to give you the secret to completely turning me off and watching my gorgeous, curvacious ass walk right out of your virtual life. Are you listening? Here it goes, the one question that is sure to have me running for the hills, rolling my eyes, and cringing all at the same time...*Ahem* "So, what are you looking for?" Short answer: NOT YOU, clearly.

Honestly though, this question kills me. What am I looking for? A million dollar idea. A million dollars. My left Dreamfoam slipper from 3 Christmases ago. My sanity. My keys, usually on a daily basis. My phone, generally on an hourly basis. Something to eat. A place to hide from my children (because obviously we're playing Hide 'N Seek). The perfect wine for my mood. A new adventure. A good tattoo artist.

What am I looking for in a guy? I'm looking for a guy who doesn't ask me what I'm looking for because he knows I'm not actually looking. I'm experiencing life. I'm open to love. I am fascinated with meeting new people and discovering what makes them unique. I'm interested in other people who are interested in enhancing my life and who are equally as interested in how I can enhance their lives. I'm not looking, though. Looking would imply that I am searching for something that needs to be found. Looking would imply that I am currently missing something in my life and looking to fill that void. I'm not. I have a life full of love. I have a wonderful family, a great therapist (of course, duh), amazing friends, and a blossoming business. My time is already at a premium, and if I choose to add anyone else into the mix, he should consider himself incredibly lucky.

What I've learned is that you get slapped in the face with someone (or something) amazing when you're not only not looking, but you're completely closed off emotionally. I met King when I was man-hating. I met Captain when I wasn't even thinking about dating anyone, let alone actually falling in love with someone. It's just how it works. So, I make a habit of not looking. In fact, I'm a total hypocrite for even being on this dating site, other than my only reason for trying it out was boredom. I guess that makes me less of a hypocrite, right?

Long story short, if you want to remain a part of my life at any capacity, don't bother asking me what I'm looking for. You'll realize by getting to know me if you've been looking for me, though...and even if you're not, that's cool. If we cross paths and sparks fly, maybe we'll build a fire on the side of a mountain together...and then hopefully retreat to a 4-5 star resort (because I'm not much of a camper). Maybe we'll enjoy a summer romance, but maybe we'll be together for years upon years. Maybe we'll live together as one big crazy family. Maybe we'll enjoy one another's company from time to time...and maybe we'll be together until the end of time. The important thing to remember is that nothing is guaranteed...

Here's to new adventures...

A Tale of Two Sisters

2013-02-14T19:04:00.000-05:00

Well, if you keep up with my blog, you'll know that I spent 10 days in Arizona recently. I was there to help Mamabear get through my Grams' death, but she cheated the guy in the black cloak for the moment, made a deal with the Devil, or just flat-out refused to believe it was her time. Regardless, she had the entire family in a complete meltdown, and we flew in from EVERYWHERE to be there for her and Mamabear. Of course, my sister was the first one with a plane ticket. Of.fucking.course. No doubt it was plastered all over her Facebook wall to make sure that the entire world knew that she was in need of prayers, support, *cough* money, and *cough cough* attention. This could be my anger talking, or it could just be the honest-to-the-big-man truth. I'm sure if you ask her, she'll let you know which of those is true.

At any rate, I really didn't think I was going to be able to make it down there. We were nearly negative in our checking account, and we don't have the resources to pool from that some people have. That being said, I made a very brief and vague post on Facebook, asking that if anyone was able to help get me outta town real quick, I'd greatly appreciate it. I am incredibly blessed to still have a friend in the flying biz, and so she quickly set me up with some buddy passes. UNBELIEVABLE. I will be forever grateful to her for that gift, seriously. It was the only way I was able to (almost) afford the trip down there.

I knew it would be uncomfortable to be around my sister. Last year's tension still remains unresolved, and so it has clearly mounted in the time that has passed. Regardless of our differences, though, this trip wasn't about me. It wasn't about my being comfortable and having a gay ole time. It was about being there for my mom and my Grams. It was about getting through a difficult time together...as a family...or I mean, I guess that's what I thought it was supposed to be.

When she arrived, we all gathered at Mamabear's house. It was Aunt Trip, Uncle Flier, my sister (let's call her Dell from now on), and me who had all arrived at nearly the same time. Trip had told Mamabear that she would like to stay in Grams' room for her time there, and since it was the bigger bed, the two of us could share it comfortably. The spare room had a full size bed, so it was much more conducive for one person to sleep there: ergo, Dell. Dell overrode that decision pretty quickly by more or less staking her claim to Grams' room by saying, "Well, I know where I'm going. So I'll just put my stuff in there..." Let the games begin.

Right off the bat, really? It was later made known to me that the reason that decision was made without consideration to anyone else was that Grams was afraid that Trip would steal her jewelry. Awesome.family.dynamics. right there, folks! Fortunately, the calamity that could have been was avoided by Trip and I asking to stay in that room due to the larger bed. I made a comment about Dell having already "moved in" to Grams' room when I saw the abundance of pillows on her bed, trying to make light of the situation and to alleviate a bit of tension....which went, apparently, completely awry. This is not a new joke. It's one that we have made for years upon years, but that's fine. People perceive what they want to perceive. So, rather than realizing that I was trying to make the best of a shitterific situation, she decided to take it as a first strike. (I found out about this later from Mamabear) *shrug*

I think the thing that annoyed me most was her complete lack of tact when it comes to medical professionals. Because she is in school to be a "doctor," it seemed that she felt she was above the rest of us and that she was somehow more informed and educated. She infiltrated every doctor visit, every nurse, every vital sign, and then some...all while wearing her "I (hipbone) Chiropractic" t-shirt. Yay.

(CLICK HERE for more equally obnoxious Chiro Cult t-shirts)

She went so far as to say that she thinks medical doctors are mostly unnecessary, except for in extreme cases and emergency medicine...while we were in Grams' hospital room...I gathered my things and quietly walked out of the room. I just couldn't handle anymore of that nonsense. Have just an ounce of respect, please. Flier, not knowing any better, egged her on. However, he really was just an innocent bystander in her mess of "opinions." Mamabear defaulted to Dell on several occasions with questions about what different medications do, etc. I found it just to be incredibly insulting, but maybe that's just my sensitivity to her just being better than me all around. Google has the same information as she does...and so did Grams' PHYSICIANS and NURSES...you know, the ones with worthless medical degrees.

I could go on for days about how Chiropractic is a completely bullshit psuedoscience, but I'll spare you that tirade for now. ;-) I should quickly say, though, that Chiropractic has been scientifically proven to be helpful in alleviating back pain. So there's that. ~end tangent~

We spent 4 days avoiding each other. I'm not sure if it was I who was avoiding her more often or vice versa, but it's really not important. What is important is what happened on her day of departure. Mamabear tried to do what Crazypants attempted (and failed miserably at, I might add) a couple years ago. She forced a confrontation between us. She made it about her and her feelings, and she wanted to know what would happen if she was the one in the hospital bed, instead of Grams. It's a fair question, to be sure, but it's kinda like my therapy session today...you don't like the answer, and there's no happy ending.

We went round and round about who needed to apologize for what, and who already apologized and who didn't. My point was made completely moot because Dell tells me that her husband (excuse the vomit here) has already apologized to me for publicly humiliating me. She says that because his apology wasn't "good enough in [my] eyes," I refused to accept it and so it didn't happen. I guess that means I have been pissed off for nothing for over a year then...hrmph. She denied stating on Facebook that I was crazy and not family. So I suppose there's no reason for her to apologize for that, being that it's just my fertile imagination and flair for dramatics. But what iced my proverbial cake was when she asked if I was being "100% honest" with my therapist. I can think of so many witty comebacks now, outside of my red rage...but at that point in time I decided to just go with the red rage. I told her "Fuck you. Get on a fucking plane and go the fuck back to Iowa." It's what I was feeling at the time. Was it nice? Not particularly. Was it mean? Yep. Should I have done it? *shrug* I try not to live with regrets. I mean, I am sure there was a less emotional way to handle the situation, but maybe by it happening this way...it will have more of an impact? I don't know...more than likely, her friends will read this and call me a psychotic bitch. More than likely, she thinks she is doing the right thing by continuing to live her fairytale life in Iowa without regard to anyone else.

The million dollar question *I* have though, is why the fuck would I pay nearly $200 an hour to a person so that I can sit there and lie? Again, we don't have the money to pay our mortgage right now, but we have made it a number 1 priority for me to be in therapy. I see a psychiatrist. His job is to read people and to figure them out. My goal in seeing him is to figure myself out and to try not to make the same mistakes with my children that my family has made with me...I guess the answer is that it's easier for people to keep blaming me than it is to look in the mirror, right? It's so much easier to see the faults in others than to see them in ourselves. It's not easy to pick up a mirror and look into the depths of your own soul, the darkest crevices where hate and grudges and anger reside. I will say one thing for those of you who think that I'm lying to my therapist...I pick up that mirror every single time I walk into his office. When's the last time you picked up a mirror and looked at your soul?

Here's to the Undertaker...

So...Funny Story...

2013-02-14T10:40:00.000-05:00

I swear to Gato that I have the most interesting (worst?) luck known to mankind. I will expound upon my entire journey in another entry (or 7), but this story needs to be told while it's still semi-fresh in my mind. I spent 10 days of the last 2 weeks in Arizona for the first time since I left town after my ex husband and I decided things weren't going to work out between us...that was almost 6 years ago. There is plenty to talk about with regard to the entire trip, but the most ironic/interesting/possibly sadistically hilarious thing that happened was on the flight back to Indy.

My aunt and I were on the same flight back (well, AND down, but we'll save that entry for another day). We boarded the flight on time in Phoenix, and everything was going smoothly. That should have probably been the first ominous clue that something was about to go horribly awry. However, I tend to enjoy the positivity when it happens, especially on incredibly stressful trips full of family drama. SO, we boarded smoothly, got sat next to a crazy cat lady (on the INSIDE of course), pushed early from the gate, and all was well.

Beverage/food service started as usual, announcements at the 10K feet mark as are standard, and the crazy cat lady chattered on about the rocketship pillow that she had crocheted for her grandson's birthday. My aunt and I giggled quietly to each other while sharing some almonds, and we let the cat lady babble on...a few moments later, the first class flight attendant came over the intercom and asked that a doctor come forward if there was one on board the flight...My training immediately came back to me, and I knew this probably wasn't an ideal situation. However, I had hopes that it was maybe a nervous flier that just got super dizzy and airsick or something...

Shortly after a doctor came forward, another flight attendant flew by me and said "someone get me the AED..." at which point I knew we were about to be diverted, someone's life was at stake, and our day was about to get royally fucked up. Another doctor and 2 nurses joined the effort to save this man's life, but unfortunately, it takes a long ass time to land an A320...even with the optimal conditions. We were just 30 miles past the ABQ airport and got immediate clearance to land. However, it still took us 30-40 from the start time of the tragedy until we were on the ground with EMS crews working on him. When we landed, there were 4 fire trucks, multiple police cars, and an ambulance waiting at the gate...

Unfortunately, no matter how many flashing lights were available at the time, it wasn't enough to save this man's life. So, what's the point of all of this?

The point is that my Grams is planning a trip to St. Croix in the very near future. She has bought her ticket and is ready to do whatever it takes to get on the plane, up to and including defying her doctors and (possibly) lying to the airlines. The point is that my trip to Arizona was a last-minute trip to help my mother get through her mother's impending death (which didn't happen this time). The point is that my Grams' heart stopped. She has a Pacemaker now. She has stage IV COPD (end stage), and she now has renal issues as well. The point is that a LOT of people don't realize what they can't see. The point is that this man (probably) never should have boarded flight 460. The point is that air travel is incredibly hard on your body in ways that we can't see on the outside.

The point is that I really didn't need this message. I didn't need to bear witness to a guy dying 2 rows in front of me. However, since I did, I'm putting it out there for you. Care about your loved ones enough not to allow them to do something incredibly selfish and stupid. Care about them enough to keep them off an airplane if they aren't in optimal health. You may think you're teaching them a hard lesson by allowing them to do something foolish, but really...this man's body is in Albuquerque...and his family is here. He never made it. They never loaded up the ambulance...They loaded up a hearse instead.

122 people deplaned and sat in Albuquerque for 7 hours. This incident cost the airline more money than you or I can imagine making in a matter of years. Our aircraft had to be flown back to Phoenix to have medical equipment be replenished. A crewmember witnessed a death, and therefore, the crew automatically timed out and had to be replaced. The aircraft then had to be flown BACK to Albuquerque to load up 122 extremely pissed off travelers who didn't care about that man but, instead, about their fucked up day. Several people were demanding refunds, and so many were treating the gate agents and even the PILOTS like last night's whore. It was an embarrassment the way these "people" were acting. I can understand their frustration at not being able to get where they were going in a reasonable time frame, but this was completely out of the airline's control. So, who should these people be pissed at? That's the point of this entry. We should be angry with those who enabled this obviously sick man to travel by air.

The cat lady kept saying how "unfair" it was for this man to have died. I disagree with her, though. Not that life has a way of being fair or anything, but this man knew the risks of getting on that flight. His family knew the risks. His doctors knew the risks...And if any of these people were left uninformed, shame on them. If any of you could stop this from happening in the future, I beg of you to do so. Why? Well, how would you feel knowing that your father/grandfather/aunt/uncle/mother/grandmother's body was alone in a freezer in a city 7 states away because you didn't stop him/her from getting on that plane?

Here's to the bearer of bad news...

Bacon Crusted Mac & Cheese...The REAL Way to a Man's Heart

2013-01-15T09:44:00.000-05:00

What You Need:

12 oz center cut bacon

2 8 oz blocks of cheese (I used Helluva Good Pepperjack & Medium Cheddar)

12 oz can of Evaporated milk (the higher the fat content, the creamier the dish, but I usually use 2%)

Your favorite box of pasta (My girls chose "flowers" ie. Fiori)

Olive oil of your choosing, just a few dashes

A covered baking dish (The one pictured is 2½ quarts) coated with your fave cooking spray

A colander (aka the thing you use to drain your pasta, not to be confused with a calendar, which might come in handy when choosing the next time you're going to make this stellar meal)

A cheese grater

What You Do:

All right, you are going to end up using three burners on your stovetop if it's electric. If it's gas, commence gloating now. Anyway, first I start cooking the bacon since it takes a bajillion years. I cook it on the stovetop, and you should, too. Here's why. You need that small amount of bacon grease to flavor your mac & cheese. Using center cut bacon, you won't have nearly as much fat, and that is a good thing all around. Trust me. Your waist will thank you later. So, long story short, start cooking your bacon in the biggest skillet you have. Medium to medium-high heat is best, and I usually start a bit lower and work my way up.

Now you can start boiling water for your pasta. Simultaneously (and this might be difficult for the multi-tasking challenged), preheat your oven to 350º. P.S. Your bacon is still sizzling.

In between waiting for your water to boil and waiting 17 years for the bacon to cook, you want to shred your cheese. I shred mine into 2 separate bowls and pop them back into the fridge while I am standing around watching the pot that's never going to boil and the bacon that's never going to be done. ;-)

When your water comes to a rolling boil, toss in a dash of olive oil and let it get to a boil again. THEN dump the pasta in. Give it a good stir, and cook as you ordinarily would. Here's the trick, though. A lot of times when you bake pasta dishes, the pasta comes out mushy and gross by the time it comes out of the oven. How does one avoid this, you ask? Well, only cook it to FIRM. Most directions will give you instructions for "firm," "al dente," and "tender." The first marker is what you want to hit.

So once your pasta is finished cooking (and your bacon isn't), pop it in the colander and rinse with hot water. I suppose the temperature of the water doesn't really matter, though, since you will be baking it anyway. Just a habit. Leave it in the sink while you make your cheese sauce, k?

So, I usually boil the water on the back burner because it's bigger and away from the little hands who like to reach up from out of nowhere and attempt to burn their little fingers. K, so when I do the sauce part, it's too far to reach to the back burner, so I use a front burner. Anyway, heat up the evaporated milk, and then dump in your first round of cheese. Stir on the constant until it's melted, and then add your second cheese. Repeat, and once everything is blended together, add in your pasta. Mix it all up, and then pour the entire mixture into your baking dish.

By now, your bacon should finally be done...or at least close. It doesn't have to be completely finished cooking, as it will continue to sizzle while you bake it. So once your cheesy pasta is settled into its new home (the baking dish), arrange your strips of bacon on top. Then drizzle the bacon drippings on top. Cover the baking dish, pop it in the oven, and set a timer for 30 minutes. In the meantime, I am usually making several bows...but you don't have to do that. ;-) Maybe fold a load of towels or reprimand a kid or two while you wait.

Once the 30 minutes is up, remove the lid, and bake it for about another 10 minutes, or until your bacon looks like you want it to look. Some people like charred bacon, and others don't. A good rule of thumb is 10 minutes though.

And that's all she wrote, folks! I know it's long, drawn out instructions, but hey, I like to keep it interesting around here. I'd love to hear your feedback, your tweaks, etc. So let me know if you tried this and what you think!

*S*

Introducing, The Doctor

2013-01-10T09:15:00.002-05:00

Again, I find myself too busy to write, but I am making it a point to do it today. I have absolutely NO time to be doing this, but who cares?! I know so many annoying chicks that start off a story by saying, "so, there's this guy..." Well, eff that shiz.

So, there's this Doctor. There are so many ridiculous coincidences that revolve around our paths crossing that it's rather mind bottling. Yes, you know, like when your thoughts get all trapped in a bottle? Anyway, King decided forever ago to get on this poly-friendly dating site. Fab. He and the Peach hit it off, and months later Peach invited us (our family) for dinner. I was excited for King because he had FINALLY made a friend here in Indy...I mean, he's only lived here for 10 years. Holyshit. Right, so Peach's hubby is rather adorable. Well, Peach is adorable herself, so I suppose that only stands to reason. We were all talking about general happenings, and come to find out Peach's husband is a friggin DOCTOR. Like, had no idea dude was a DOCTOR?! Not only that, but he works at the best hospital EVER (Peyton Manning Children's Hospital), and if I told you the type of doc he was, well, it might give away his identity. Let's just say that my jaw hit the hardwood, and I nearly creamed my pants right then. Regardless, this dinner was for King, not for me. I was supporting him, but I ended up leaving with my head tilted...like, huh...the Doctor was pretty effing amazing. Crap. *shrug* Well, he has a girlfriend anyway, and I mean...ummm, he's a DOCTOR.

Fast forward to early this week when I was bored and avoiding housework. I decided to hop on this same dating website to create a profile. I was also reminiscing and missing Captain...I wasn't so much missing CAPTAIN himself as I was missing how I felt when we were together...So, anyway, I did it. I made a profile, answered some questions, and then I looked to see who I was matched with...and the second photo down was of a dude rock climbing...and I was thinking, "man, I totally know those legs..." So I clicked on the pic, and wouldn't you know...it was the Doctor! So, I sent him a message telling him that I finally decided to get on there, and he was one of my best matches...and we just kinda started talking from there.

He invited me over for drinks last night, and it couldn't have come at a better time, honestly. I had a craptastic day, and I was in desperate need of alcohol therapy. And laughter. And just plain frickin' fun. Well, as cliché as it sounds, the Doctor was the perfect medicine. How about you mix horrible wine, Hypnotiq (okay, not in the same GLASS or anything), great indie music, fab conversation about everything and nothing...and a hot doctor...who likes me...and wanted to kiss me...and did. It was the best. Like, just the best. And I found out that he had got on this dating site just a couple days before I did...so bizarro. I told him that I may not believe in God, but I'll be damned if I don't believe in destiny...He said we'd have to meet in the middle on that one because he believes in coincidence...which DOES sound much more miraculous anyway... <3

So, the Doctor has captured my heart...I mean, not like Romeo and Juliet creepy-style obsessive or anything, but yeah...he definitely rocked it last night. So, there's this doctor...and he's pretty friggin' awesome.

Here's to new adventures in the new year...

Breathe

2012-10-20T17:28:00.000-04:00

There are moments in our life that define us. There are times when we recognize them as they occur, and there are times that we don't. Sometimes it's time itself that is required to recognize that a defining moment has passed...and we can only hold out hope that it isn't too late...

The last week has been one of recognition for me. I reached out to my Captain. It had been nearly 2 months since we'd last spoken...It was partially necessary, but I think it ended up just being...well, empty. It's funny how the earth continues spinning, even when we're not paying attention. The sun still rises each morning, and the moon glows brightly each night. Meanwhile, I have just been a bystander in my own life.

We separated. We decided that it wasn't going to work...there wasn't a fight. There wasn't some dramatic moment. It was just that. We separated. And what I didn't realize in that moment was that I stopped breathing. I focused on my work, which allowed me to ignore what was happening within myself. It allowed me to mask the subconscious pain that was crystal clear to those around me...but that I, myself, was willing and able to deny. It's easy for me to ignore my feelings of hurt and disappointment...I've done it so much over the years that most times I don't even realize I'm doing it anymore.

That being said, in a moment of vulnerability, in a moment of feeling lost and hurt and forsaken and not knowing what to do...I reached out to him. I figured it would be a fruitless effort, one which would include superficial niceties, but one in which he would gently (as is his sweet nature) let me know that he had moved on with his life. I was wrong. Well, I was mostly wrong anyway. Someone has caught his eye, which was quite inevitable, but he was willing to reach back and hold my hand for a moment. It was a moment that meant more to me than I realized it would when I initially reached out. It was a defining moment in my life. He comforts me in a way that no one else can. He sees me...all of me..and even with my imperfections, he held my hand just long enough to make me feel okay again.

Since that conversation, we've barely skipped a beat. He came over last night with the kids, and it felt like the first time I had taken a breath since we separated. I hadn't noticed it. I hadn't even realized that I'd stopped breathing, that my soul had been silently weeping...that the song of my life had been monotone since we left each other. I did, though. I had stopped living, and I was just existing. My tears were ribbons...and fabric...and buttons...and tulle. It makes sense to me now...I mean, the most successful pieces of art in any form are generally turned out in the midst of some horrible emotional tragedy in the artist's life, right?

Last night was the first time that he left, and I just wanted to hold onto him...to keep him from leaving...to hang onto his leg like a toddler and not allow him to walk out the door, afraid that if he left...it would be the last time I'd see him, the last time his hand rested on the small of my back, the last time that I would see my favorite part of his face.. I haven't ever really felt like that before, that terrifying, paralyzing fear of being left behind...He is like this piece of my puzzle. King and I even talked about it...how he makes me so happy, how our relationship was better (at its best) when we were together...how he completes me in ways I didn't realize I wasn't whole...

So for my part, I am realizing that if I had just given a little bit more...if I had just gone outside of my comfort zone...Maybe it wouldn't have ended...I guess what matters is that he's back...well, mostly back anyway...and my lesson is not to take him for granted. Every moment in his presence is a gift, one that I will treasure forever. <3 I just hope and pray that he'll hold my hand a little longer...

A New Endeavor

2012-09-11T08:09:00.000-04:00

I am absolutely positive that my loyal followers have been wondering why I have disappeared off of the blogosphere yet again! I know you're all anxious to hear about Captain, amongst my other adventures. However, I must confess that my attention has been brought to a new endeavor!

I recently bought a sewing machine and decided it was important to learn to use it...well, because otherwise King would not be happy that I wasted a bunch of money on a large paperweight. That being said, I have opened a small boutique shop online, and I will be doing somewhat of a craft fair tour this fall.

So, here is a link to my shop, and I will post some photos of my work below!

I am running some awesome promotions right now for new fans of my page, so make sure you check it out and 'Like' it!