Do What Now?

Day 11: Oops!

2012-01-28T08:39:00.000-08:00

Time escaped me yesterday in a major way.

Every day when I get off work, I go straight to my work out routine. Afterwards I clean up the house and then the rest of the day takes shape:

Helping Miles with his homework, prepping supper, washing laundry, wondering around with a glazed look on my face because I'm so side tracked mentally... and then... a nap. I swear, if I don't get my afternoon nap in, I'm just a wreck!

I completely forgot to post a photo yesterday! Miles went over to his best friends house to spend the night. Bill and I took the opportunity to go out. Date night!

First stop was a local coffee shop on the square.

There was one small annoyance for me-I asked for a cappuccino with a little extra milk, less foam. What did I get? A LATTE! What IS IT with baristas who don't understand a traditional cappuccino? Shit. I drank the latte anyway because I was cold and the drink was hot.

After that, we hit up a local wine shop and bought a great Malbec for the week. The two of us are straight hooked on Malbec's and we both prefer Spanish reds to anything else. Eventually we wound up driving around town like we always do. It's part of the reason why our first dance at the wedding was "Cruisin" by Smoky Robinson. That's what we do- cruise. Drive and talk, drink coffee and laugh, point out dumb shit or stop to take photos.

Around midnight I realized, while eating some cheese no less, that I hadn't taken a photo! And here I am today, at noon, unable to take another one! I've got to go get ready for work and head out the door.

So, a picture of Murphy from early this week will have to suffice. Please forgive me!

Day 9: Supper or Dinner?

2012-01-26T15:49:00.001-08:00

Sometimes cooking supper can get really boring. Then the kids start to whine, you and your husband are pushing food around your plate feeling all sad about your choices (c'mon, how many times have you eaten pork chops and applesauce? Don't lie) and then someone makes a suggestion to go get hot wings.

And really, how can you say no to hot wings (answer: you can't).

Miles is pretty good about trying new foods. Especially if I've prepared them in some sort of different or odd way. When he was about four or five, I got a recipe for mini meatloaves. Personally, any food that comes mini is a win for me (EXCEPT PEAS. I will NEVER eat them. EVER). The mini loaves were a success and to top off the fun, I bought some Smiles.

You do know about Smiles, don't you? If not, please go HERE and properly learn yourself.

Originally I wanted to make mashed cauliflower and pipe it on top like frosting. I got that idea from The Meatloaf Bakery in Chicago. I'm still bummed I didn't get a chance to swing by there back in the fall. Guess I'll have to make another trip! Alla Fiorentina made an awesome suggestion as well- shaving veggies on top for sprinkles. Brilliant!

So tonight, in honor of that fun time when Miles was little, I made mini meatloaves & Smiles for supper. Or do you call it dinner? I'm pretty sure I grew up calling it dinner but somewhere in the mix of life it became supper. I think it sounds more appealing anyway.

SUPPER TIME!

In honor of my cousin Tyler (who is in a big fancy culinary school in New York), I actually "plated" supper. And then I added some of that fancy dippin sauce. And that Smile is bleeding out of his face.

Gore and good eats, what more could you ask for?

Dessert!

Keeping it old school with the meat/mashed potato combo I made strawberry jello. WITH fresh chopped up fruit in the cups. I mean, c'mon. It's like the 70's showed up tonight!

In case any of you are curious, the meat loaves are venison (sorry Cat!). I added siracha, Rotel sauce (not the diced tomato's), garlic, roasted red peppers, S&P, onion and about 2 cups chopped spinach. I topped them off with this hard Irish cheese I found. It's too strong to eat on it's own, but it adds some great flavor in little amounts.

What did you guys whip up for eats tonight?

Day 8: Foods

2012-01-25T15:07:00.000-08:00

Back a few years ago, I wasn't very handy with cooking. Oh, I could cook you up a storm if the food came out of a box. Do any of you remember those meals in a box? The chicken & dumpling one with the biscuits you cooked on top? Holy HELL I adored those. And Rice -a- Roni. Hamburger Helper. Mac & Cheese. Typical, "If I make this, we'll survive" fare.

Eventually I had a moment. I decided I wanted to cook REAL food. Use an actual recipe. Make bellies full with good stuff and enjoy all the food around the table with them. I do remember the moment I truly started to put effort into all of that. I had found some Food & Wine cookbook for chicken at K-mart on clearance. My reasoning was that it was chicken and there was no way I could mess any of it up. Rarely did that happen and the recipes none of us liked quickly earned a mark at the top of the page saying simply: YUCK. I still use that book to this day- the pages are either stuck together or have grease spots on them, but I love that book and it's loved me back (or rather, our stomachs).

The other book that changed the way I looked at food was from another clearance find: The Ultimate Italian. It's a hefty 500 page book with a full start to finish food spread. Anitpastas, pastas, main courses, snacks, brunch, desserts. On and on it goes for pages and pages. Obviously I was intimidated by the glossy photos, so I picked the most appealing chicken recipe I could find seeing that I was familiar enough with poultry.

Most memorable meal made? Italian style Sunday roast. This was a mega feast for me to prepare and I pulled it all of for my Dad's birthday one year- complete with homemade bread and dessert!

Today's photo, while not specifically related to chicken, is awesome. You know you're true friends "get you" when this is a present:

Pardon me for not taking extra time on angle, lighting, etc. I'm pressed for time this evening with a host of other things going on. But! Dedication people! I did not forget about any of you who may be secretly reading all of this nonsense.

Also, here's a run down on the Italian-style Sunday roast. Don't say I never did anything nice for you:

5 1/2 lb chicken

sprigs of fresh rosemary

3/4 cup feta cheese, grated

2 tablespoons sun dried tomato paste

4 tablespoons butter, softened

1 bulb garlic

2 1/4 lb new potatoes, halved if large

1 each red, green yellow bell peppers cut into chunks

3 zucchini, sliced thin

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 tablespoons APF

2 1/2 cups chicken stock

S&P

1. Rinse your chicken in and out. Drain it. Carefully cut between the skin & top of breast meat. Slide finger into slit (dirty dirty!) and carefully enlarge to form a pocket. * I also do this on the leg portion of the chicken as well, not just the breasts*

2. Chop leaves from rosemary stems. Mix with feta, sun dried tomato paste, butter & pepper to taste, then spoon under the skin. Put chicken in large roasting pan, cover w foil & cook in preheated oven, 375 for 20 min per 1b 2 oz PLUS 20 minutes.

3. Break garlic into cloves but DO NOT PEEL. Add all veggies (garlic cloves too) to chicken after 40 min.

4. Drizzle w oil, tuck in a few stems of rosemary & season with S&P. Cook for the remaining calculated time, removing foil for last 40 min to brown chicken.

5. Transfer chicken to platter. Place some of the veggies around the chicken & transfer the remainder to a warm serving dish. Pour the fat out of the roasting pan & stir the flour into the remaining pan juices. Cook for 2 min then gradually stir in the stock. Bring to a boil, stirring until thick. Strain into a sauce boat and serve with chicken.

6. Sit down, eat & enjoy meal with family, let them tell you how awesome you are for making this for them and soak it up!!

Day 7: Offspring

2012-01-24T15:24:00.001-08:00

For the better part of his life, I've been writing annual birthday posts for Miles. This is where I'm going to let my inner hipster shine:

I've been doing this way before all these other Moms decided it was cool (with the exception of Dooce- she's just rad period).

So there.

Today I had to practically break an arm to get him out for a photo. More than likely I ruined him on having his photograph taken because when he was younger, it was our entertainment. We'd set up the camera and stay there for hours it seemed. Somewhere, I have hilarious videos stashed away of us dancing to Daft Punk, pretending to be robots and other little quips caught on "tape." Besides, I also wanted to document his tiny little chicklet teeth before they became giant teeth (done).

The end result of all that is I have to beg to get a decent photo. Or if I do get a photo, it's accompanied by a goof face, agape mouth, twitchy eye or drool. Nice. With the weather being AWESOME today (high of 65) I just had to get a few snap shots. Currently I'm in love with the action button on my camera- but mainly just to have images of Miles jumping off stuff. Case in point for today's pic.

Here's another cool one that he asked I not delete (or share on Facebook. So.... yeah, we'll just go for blog. HA on YOU.)

That yellow "orb" I'm sure is a reflection of the sun off my lens or what not. Yet, when we both saw it we were floored. Miles and I like to consider ourselves beginner ghost hunters. Meaning: we watch all the shows on tv and would know what to say in a crisis situation with a ghost.

Ghost: *static noise* I love bacon *static noise*

Us: *screaming*

Ghost: *static noise* Baaaaaacon *static noise*

Us: BAAAAAAAAACON! *screaming*

Also, when I purchased that Deadmau5 hat for him for Christmas, I had no idea he would wear it every.single.day. Thank God he can't wear it to school and I've had several opportunities to wash it. I haven't even had a chance to wear it either! That can get kind of annoying too. Now that Miles is nearly as tall as me, we can share clothes. Only he gets mad because my boobs stretch out his shirts. HA! You can also take in those giant Skrillex glasses I picked up for him too. When I did, he reminded me that it was time for his annual eye exam and that THESE were to be his glasses.

My response? "You know you're going to regret that when you're like twenty six, right?"

"No I won't," he says.

"Trust me dude, you'll be SO embarrassed when I bust out a photo of you rockin those things while you're eating dinner with us and a nice lady friend you've brought over."

"Mom."

"Son."

"I will not have any 'lady friends'."

"Okay, whatever. Once you figure out how awesome boobs are, you'll have a lady friend."

"MOM!"

In the next few weeks I plan to work up my annual birthday post to my not so tiny Bee.

Stay tuned!

Day 6: History

2012-01-23T16:39:00.000-08:00

The definition of History is given as: The record of past events and times, especially in connection with the human race.

Several years ago, I started to research a little bit on my family line. Actually, more so from my Mom's side as I had discovered a bunch of old photos and documents in the bottom of a metal cabinet I acquired.

Now I am a HUGE history geek. Studied history in college to become a professor (um, yeah that's still on my to do list), nearly every book I own is historical in nature and I literally cried while at Versailles. It's that intense people.

So when I found these documents, I obviously couldn't read them, as they were in Polish. Luckily a great blogger friend/pen pal who lives in Poland offered a hand. I remember photocopying the delicate documents and sending them off to him in hopes of a rough translation.

What my friend discovered was that this letter was an announcement of sorts of my Papaski (Mom's dad) Dad's birth. Or his grandfather. I forget who (how helpful of me, right)? Regardless, my friend also told me that the letter was written in a Polish/Russian combo, so it was quite difficult to translate. When that bit of information came back to me, I was floored. We weren't just of Polish decent, there's a chance we're also Russian! I also have locked away my great grandfather's US Citizenship paperwork. I believe the date stamped is 1929.

Here below are little snip its of the letter:

Having this letter means so much to me, even if I can't read it for myself. It's as if I'm able to time travel. There are times when I take the letter out of the envelope so gingerly and hold it. I think about all the hands that have touched it, someone related to me wrote it, the handwriting is beautiful & the recipient took the time to tape it back together after being folded so many times that it's now in four squares.

It is, by far, a priceless treasure.

So what's your family story? Any cool artifacts that have turned up or been passed down?

The history buff in me is dying to know, so don't hold out!

Day 5: Habit

2012-01-22T17:09:00.000-08:00

If you've ever spent anytime around me, then you know that I'm notorious for leaving items laying around in odd places. In the past it was bobbi pins, but I haven't really worn those in my hair in quite some time. I can't tell you how many times my Dad has been enraged over sucking up a handful of metal crimped pins in the vacuum. Now it seems that my earrings have taken the place of the hair pins. I usually forget that I have them in and when I do remember to take them out, it's late at night and I just set them where ever.

Back of the toilet, tops of counters, end tables, ashtray in the car, bottom of my purse, the floor. It varies on what I'm doing at the time, but they'll be there, just laying about.

Case in point:

While this isn't an actual landing spot for my earrings, it is a day's worth of collecting there on the counter. I even found several bracelets with a ball of yarn.

Speaking of yarn, that's another bad habit. I used to refer to myself as the one skein wonder. I'd see a really cool ball and have to have it! No project in mind, no pattern, no concept that to knit something would take more than one skein. As I got a little better at knitting, I realized my error and now? Now I have become the two skein wonder. Meaning, I'll finish a project and have two left over.

Maybe tomorrow I'll take a snap shot of the basket full of fiber that has yet to be made into anything.

So aside from smoking, nail biting or leaving your towels on the bathroom floor, what habits are you notorious for?

Day 4: So Much Going On

2012-01-21T16:48:00.001-08:00

It wasn't until seven o'clock that I realized I hadn't taken any photos today. Broke out the camera, got to it. There were several pictures of those old Mad magazines ($.30 a copy, cheap!), shoes, books, Miles & his buddy sitting on the couch eating cereal...

Then this.

I like this photo for some reason.

Yet when I look at it, there is so much going on. Visually and in my mind. Also, I had to refrain from sitting down and finishing up that episode of iCarly.

What my eye is drawn to first is Abby seeking refuge from Murphy.

Until the cat is declawed or has tips put on, that blanket will remain on the back of the chair. Abby has come very close to meeting an untimely death for making biscuits on that new chair. The blanket, oddly enough, is one that was Miles when he was a baby. I wash it every week and if it's not on the back of that chair it's being used for a pillow or an emergency nap throw.

The second thing I notice is the carpet.

Ugh.

We are finally getting the whole house done in the next month. The carpet we have now is well over twenty years old and it's starting to skeeve me out. Our 'To Do' list has gotten shorter and shorter and once the new carpet is in place all that will be left to do will be small interior things. Well... redecorating our bedroom is going to be a freaking task.

All the books on the shelf on both sides of the tv I cannot part with. I've tried and the evidence is in the storage room. I can't believe no one wanted to buy my copy of Van Gough's life or the "How to live well on a shoe string!" There are plenty of history books, English books, my one copy of Cold Sassy Tree. The right side is mainly Miles stuff. Little history books I got him on Einstein or Huckleberry Finn, Tom Sawyer, endless manga and science books.

On the very top shelf are three pictures that are very dear to me:

Far left is a photo of the three of us with our godson John. When our friends asked us if we'd be up for the task, I couldn't believe it! Not only do I just adore John, but to be someone's godmother... man. That was a pretty huge moment for me in my life. And because I'm overly sentimental, I couldn't help but cry during his baptismal.

The photo on the far right is a quick snap shot of Bill and I from our close friends wedding up in the Tennessee Mountains. Little did I know that just a few short years later two things would be happening: A) I would become best friends with Jerrid's wife Rebecca (it was their wedding we were at) and B) I would be marrying Bill! I joked with Jerrid after their ceremony that I had passed the 90 day trial period with Bill - whew! Kidding, kidding. We both bring up the fact that we knew early on that we would be together.

And finally, the photo in the middle is from our wedding with another set of close friends. My birthday twin, Ann and her husband Ray are with us. The funny thing about this photo is that there are a series of them and in each one, three of us are doing the same thing while one is not. Out of a good ten shots no one is on the same page and I just love that. Ann wrote a lovely little inscription on the matte with a heart. It's by far one of my favorite images from that awesome day. Not only does it show the bonds of friendship, but it reminds me of how sometimes you know when to fight for what you know is right.

So there you have it- a candid black and white of one room in my house!

Day 3: Tip Toed

2012-01-20T12:21:00.000-08:00

When I was a little girl I was a ballerina.

For one hot minute.

Maybe longer, I'm not sure, I'll have to ask my Mom.

The story goes that I was in the class up until the recital. When that special day came- I'm sure all my other ballerina friends were super excited. They probably spent their evenings twirling in front of musical jewelry boxes pretending they were the best dancers on the planet. They probably tried on their outfits fifteen times a day and brushed their hair 100 times.

Me?

I wasn't having it. Not one single minute. There was no way I was going to wear a tutu, twirl around or give my parents any special photo ops. Nope.

Do you know what that little stunt got me? A very cute, sometimes embarrassing nickname that has stuck with me all the years of my life:

Jeanna Ballerina Without A TuTu

To hear it properly, you have to first understand that my name is Jeanna- pronounced GINA (or if I'm feeling humorous I like to say "It's pronounced JEAN with a NAH on the end of it"). So now that you know that bit of information about me (damn the internet, I'm sure people I don't care for will find my tiny sometimes bore-a-riffic blog) you can sing the song in your head!

JEEEEEEEANAH Ballereeeeeeena Without a Toooo Toooo.

I can't believe I even just admitted to this, much less wrote about it on my blog for the entire internet to read.

With that being said, I give you today's photo:

While I'm still no ballerina, I like to think I somehow retained the moves from class and burned them to memory. It really has come in handy. I can do a round house kick and miss your face, pilates are a breeze, I often stand with my right foot balanced on my left leg and if you remember posts from over the summer, I can in fact turn my feet backwards (heels facing forward).

Murph decided to watch me while I took this photo.

I'll pretend that he's saying, "Way to go human lady who rubs my belly!" Really though, we all know he's saying, "You know you look ridiculous right?"

Thanks Murph.

Day 2: Photo Challenge

2012-01-19T13:33:00.000-08:00

Day 2 of my little challenge was to be a portrait shot of me.

Dumb.

The more I look at this list, the more boring it seems. So I'm going to wing it and make up my own. Here's today's picture-

On a slight angle, manual focus.

Seven. Minute. Abs.

Some nights I feel bad for Abs. She was an only pet until November. Well, unless you count that parakeet I had for a hot minute. Oh and those two fire bellied tree frogs that met an untimely death. And JoJo....

Anyway-

Murphy is getting some serious skills in his humping. It's ridiculous. Half the time I shake my head. The other half I'm thinking about how horrible it must be that my dog's first sexual encounter is with a cat. He has no idea. NONE. I mean, there he is- getting to second base with the cat. Then he's stealing onto third. Here pretty soon, it's gonna be ALL.THE.WAY. The weird part of it, is that the cat is so tired of his shit, that she just lays there. I find myself yelling at her to "have some class!" or "be a lady about this! Say NO!" She doesn't listen.

That's when I have to break it up.

Seriously. It's like Skinemax up in here some nights.

Any of your pets have weird traits or habits?

Photo "Challenges"

2012-01-18T10:33:00.000-08:00

For Christmas, my husband surprised me with a brand new Cannon camera. It doesn't fit in my pocket, has detachable lenses (if any of you just sang Detachable Penis, you get bonus points from me) and a nifty bag.

A BAG!

Not one of those tiny cases that clips to your belt like some bizarre fanny side pack either!

Then I decided I should take a photography class. Why not? I've got this wicked cool camera, better learn how to use this sumbitch correctly. Well you know what I did? Mm hmm. Completely spaced out about registration- meaning...

No photography class for me.

Grrr.

I have done a fair amount of research online and have come across some pretty slick websites with "assignments" given. Instead of going head first into those (I'm still reading manuals and experimenting) I figured I'd just go for a quickie 30 day photo challenge. I've tried this before and failed miserably. So another go round could do me some good.

Besides, I'm burnt out on knitting. BIG TIME. I finished a few projects in the latter part of 2011- one of which I have *yet* to mail (gah). Currently, I have a beautiful golden hand spun yarn on my needles and I'm half way through this poncho/scarf thing. There aren't any feelings involved in it either.

It's just there.

On the coffee table.

Taunting me.

Anyway,

Day 1 for this photography challenge is to take a picture of your outfit.

Remember when I used to do this every Thursday (or.... once a month on Thursday?) Yeah. I should've put more thought into it. I'll whine for a second: It's cold. It's windy. The sun may be shining, but I don't want to go out. Not even to run. Pshaw.

/whine

Here's my outfit:

Striped shirt: picked up at TJ Maxx or what not

Tank: Hanes, who knows where I bought it

Jeans: Bitten by Sarah Jessica Parker- thrift store

Shoes: Not wearing 'em.

Earrings: old old pair that I just cannot part with. They're jingly and blue (there's going to be a balls joke in there..)

Bracelets: H&M

Necklace: Letter "J" with a heart next to it, from the hubs

Tomorrow I'm suppose to take a self portrait. BORING. Y'all know what I look like. Maybe I'll figure out a way to change it up. After all, this IS a challenge. I've already slacked on the what I'm wearing photo, why muck it up again?

Have any of you participated in a challenge like this or anything similar?

Sunday & Such

2012-01-16T08:33:00.000-08:00

Yesterday we all ventured downtown to goof off.

First stop- the antique/record shop. The front half of the store is antiques, but the further back you go into the shop, the more records you'll see. The guy even has a sound room set up with this mod furniture where you can geek out over sweet stereo systems.

We weren't five steps into the place when Miles saw a giant stack of Mad magazines from the early 60's. Of course he had to have some. The owner was cool enough to cut him a deal- 3 mags for $16. As we were leaving, she let him know that the magazines were previously owned by Alton Brown. There's your six degrees homie!

Afterwards, we were going to hit up the magic shop, but they were closed. Of COURSE it's right next to the Aussie bakery and my mouth started watering for some of their tasty, tasty meat pies. We wound up having hot wings instead. Boo. I drank a diet Coke with my wings and within twenty minutes had the worst effing headache of my LIFE. Guess I'll go back to none of that. Sucks, because I just love some Diet Coke man.

Bill took a bunch of hilarious photos of Miles and I high fiving one another mid air. I took several of Miles jumping off the center concert stage and then some graffiti pics. It felt good to get out and laugh, run around the park and not have one damn care in the world.

Check it out:

2012-01-14T08:42:00.000-08:00

Still rocking on the 90 hours in 90 day work out plan. I'd be lying if I told you that I don't fantasize about oatmeal creme pies or bags of chips. God, I love junk food SO much. There are afternoons where I feel like I just need something with substance to eat. I'd cut you for a dagwood sized sandwich too.

And yet, I don't cave.

Well, unless you count that time Bill caught me shoving the last piece of an oatmeal creme pie into my mouth (I'd been eating one bite a day for a week)! HA! I've moved past it now.

So here's a quick peek into my routine:

Mon: Pilates, 45 min Weights: 15 min

Tues: Same

Wed: Run/jog/walk 2-4 miles (depends on the route I pick)

Thurs: rest

Fri: Weights: 30 min, Ab workout/aerobics/whatever looked fun on Netflix: 30 min

Sat: Pilates: 60 min

Sun: Run/jog/walk 2-4 miles

On the warmer days, I plan to roller blade, but that just hasn't happened yet. I also need to get down to the basement to hit the heavy bag- but it's much more fun with Bill. He knows what to do, where as I look like a drunk girl trying to fight (no coordination what so ever).

So there you have it!

My weight has been on the decline and much to my surprise, I can now see where those beautiful 6 pack abs are going to be taking up residence. Hopefully my thighs won't miss one another when they quit touching. Could you imagine? It's like they've been holding hands for years. I bet they'll be a teensie bit sad.

Although, I won't.

Check And Double Check

2012-01-10T13:24:00.000-08:00

I don't care how old you are, what step your on in the ladder of life or where you came from. There is ONE rule in life that you always stick to:

1. When you have to poop in public you CHECK FOR TOILET PAPER FIRST.

There's a long list of horror stories that go along with not checking. I'm sure at some point in your life, you've goofed, not checked and then had to sit there for a moment to contimplate your next move.

On Monday I was up at the bookstore and had to use the restroom. No biggie. I push the door open and you can imagine my surprise when I see a middle aged, flat assed lady walk out of the stall.

WITH HER PANTS AROUND HER ANKLES.

She shimmied to the stall next door, cursed and then walked into the handicapped stall.

I literally had my hand over my mouth, laughing.

Not only did I just witness a half naked woman waddling in the women's restroom, she lingered about it. I had a full 30 seconds to take in ... the sights, so to speak. You know, I understand that cotton panties are comfy, I get that. I wear them, they've never wronged me. But when you're cotton panties are a pale shade of death and the elastic has separated from the cotton itself? Well, you need to just take your ass up to the nearest Wal-mart and buy yourself a mega pack of Fruit of the Looms.

Once she had locked herself in the stall, I made my way to the one remaining with toilet paper. I checked and then double checked before I even sat down. The whole time I was in there, I could hear her cussing to herself. As for me? Well, I waited till she left. Just in case she did see me and there was an awkward moment.

Luckily I didn't have my camera with me. Maybe next time I will and I'll label that file:

Horror from the Stall.

These Fools

2012-01-09T18:41:00.000-08:00

Every night it's a similar battle.

Usually the yellow ball (pictured as the middle man) is involved.

Abby is eating dog food and dog treats. Murphy is fighting with his paws like he's a cat. It's a mixed up topsy turvy world over here folks.

And I'm right there in the thick of it, documenting.

Catdog

Alone in the world was a little Catdog.

2012-01-07T18:00:00.000-08:00

My husband blows me away with his drawing/sketching abilities. You don't believe me? See below:

This is a sketch he did of Skrillex, because my son asked him to. He just whipped it up like no big thing. Pfft. Any time I try to draw ANYTHING it looks ridiculous. As if I was blind folded, spun around and given a sharpie ridiculous. So, if I were to be given this assignment, no doubt would my answer be the same.

In two weeks I'm starting my first photography class. I'm hoping to take some awesome photographs, not overly hipster or too dreamy. Although I have a feeling most pictures will wind up looking like the one above.
Valentines is right around the corner yo. I'm not a fan. No really, I'm not. And you can say, "That's SUCH a chick response!" True- but for me, every opportunity to leave love notes, tiny surprises or give love is Valentines. Not just one specific day. Besides, it just makes evening traffic blow. Yet, I do love quirky cards and I may try to find this set to pass out to my friends.

I adore this print. You can find the link to it over on Happiness Is. Which is, by far, one of my all time favorite blogs. I promise you'll love Shannon Eileen's site.

Man, if I could I'd knit this sweater up ASAP. It's just that rad!

And finally,

This was a discussion between my husband and I while driving around today:

Counting Crows is on the radio...

Hubs: "We should start a band and call it Subtracting Snakes."

Me: "What?"

Hubs: "Well, he's COUNTING CROWS..."

Me: "Or how about Calculating Cheetahs?"

Hubs: "Multiplying Muscrats"

Me: "Trigging Tigers"

We both erupt into laughter. Finished off the afternoon with wings and beer, a little thrifting, some quality time at Home Depot (just kidding, 20 minutes tops) and now, the constant flicking of channels between the LIONS!! and the Republicans on tv.

It's getting intense around here y'all!

In My Mind

2012-01-02T12:31:00.001-08:00

To Do, To Done, To...

2012-01-02T10:49:00.000-08:00

If I owned this journal, you'd crack open the cover and the first page would say this:

1. Stop making To Do lists.

I'm not a list maker. At all. When I first met my husband, I think he was a little taken aback by how much I really did rely on the seat of my pants (in which to fly by). Over time though, we've balanced one another out nicely. Meaning, on occasion I write out a list and he will surprise me by not making a list.

Little things people, little things.

Now, seeing that the new year as reared it's head upon us, every one is abuzz about these things:

1. WORKING OUT! I read Facebook status after Twitter newsfeed about how everyone is WORKING OUT! PUMPING IRON! DID A HUGE RUN TODAY! Did you know that 88% of New Year's Resolutions fail by January 4th? You've got two days left then, don't you? As for me, I made ZERO resolutions. No, really. I know I don't stick to my lists, so I didn't make one.

2. 2012! APOCALYPSE! END TIMES! Will John Cusack save us? Probably not. I know a lot of you are chuckling over this, because I am a pretty big fan of 2012. Or rather, researching it. I'm fascinated by all the theories, the what will become of us, the failures, the "enlightening" and so forth. Just so you know up front: there will be a HUGE 12-21-2012 bash at my place. The requirements are as follows:

A. Come dressed as your favorite historical figure (any time period is acceptable, however anyone dressed as Sarah Palin will be denied admittance).

B. Bring a bottle of champagne

C. Or a weapon

We will provide food and warmth. A brilliant time will be had by all of us!

3. Aside from To Do lists, there was one article I read that really stuck with me. It was in regards to the top five things people say before they die. One of those that really struck a chord with me was, and forgive me for paraphrasing, how many wished they had kept in better touch with their friends.

Yes, really.

This one is a wishy washy subject for me. I have several friends, that try as I might, they just don't return phone calls. Okay, I get the hint. For some reason, you think I blow and no longer want me in the circle of trust. I get that. So consider this bullet point my mass email notification that I still care. I'm a Pisces and emotionally charged by nature- so when people cut ties with me, the wound is a little deeper than you'd imagine and I really am hurt.

Now stop making your To Do lists and just go do SOMETHING. Even if it's unclogging the toilet, putting in a new door jamb, folding your clothes as the come out of the dryer, sending a post card to a long lost friend just to say hi or simply spending time with someone who means that much to you.

Couldn't hurt. Besides, you never know when you'll need an extra person to help stock your ammunition/gun/wine cellar for the zombie apocalypse.

Murphasaurus

2011-12-30T15:45:00.001-08:00

For the past few weeks I've been toying with the idea of doing a Daily Dose of Murphy on my site.

Maybe the next photo, I'll show off his hoarding skills or his extreme love of all my shoes. Which he hoards in his kennel. Under a blanket. Like I can't see that size 8 Nike sticking out in the back.

Come on Murph.

Farewell To Nekkidness

2011-12-29T17:54:00.000-08:00

Today is Thursday.

Which means for a lot of people, it's one day closer to the weekend. However, for several hundred (if not thousands, millions?) of people Thursday held a deeper meaning. A little social oddity that seemed so underground at first and then exploded into something more.

What ever am I referring to? My dears, Half Nekkid Thursday (or HNT). Osbasso started the whole gig nearly six and a half years ago. That's a long time and a lot of folks body parts. There's also so many years of just LIFE accumulated in each of our blog posts.

Think about it.

Thursday's just weren't about showing off your toned legs- it was about sharing with one another: Heartaches, deaths, lost loves, new loves, children growing up, pets running away, pets dying, rehab stints, gut busting laughs, crazy fun meet ups and just the plain ole every day STUFF. We were all connected. Granted, HNT wasn't always so risque. Please note- it is now (well, some). So if pretty ladies (or fellas) missing articles of clothing make you kinda woozy, you might want to either A) not look or B) sit down.

Back all those years ago- right after I started blogging, I participated in HNT. In those wee growing years of the 2000's, risque on a Thursday meant you took a photo of yourself in a tube top and pretended like you weren't wearing a shirt. Or you took a photo of your foot. Your butt in tight jeans. A hip. A collar bone. You jacked that photo up in MS Paint or whatever shiesty photo editing software came on your Mac or PC. Don't lie. I remember your photos!

For me, participation back then was on a deeper level. Taking photographs of myself was a way to feel beautiful in a time that I felt I was not. There are emotional scars that have healed over time, but back then they were just wide open. Being a part of this... was like sharing those scars in a very real way. The best part of that was knowing that while I felt so utterly alone, I was not. To those who shared in those scars and memories- thank you. Thank you for just simply being there and saying you know. The experience alone changed me for the better.

Thursdays were an outlet for us all. A way to let our inner photographer shine and over time, a way to keep in touch. I've never really talked about HNT on this blog before. It's been years since I even participated. Yet seeing that this is the last finale, I thought I should just put up a little blurb for Os and all the great people I've met along the way. I'm pretty sure my participation all those years ago helped me accept my body and see myself in a positive light.

Cheers guys, let's keep in touch.

Shine On Christmas Time, Shine On.

2011-12-28T11:09:00.000-08:00

Christmas is over and I'm guessing several of you have exhaled a long, drawn out breath. Maybe loosened your belts, slapped your bellies and wondered how it all went by so quickly. Or not. Some people are destined to love the holidays, others grimace through it. Me? I'm somewhere in the middle.

This year was a whirlwind road trip full of family, gifts, hugs and oh, the FOOD. I told myself in October I would not be denying myself any sweets, meats, breads, shakes or tasty Bailey inspired coffee drinks. Days tend to blend into weeks, into months, into years. Before you know it, you're standing in your friends kitchen with a dropped jaw when she mentions how your son will be twenty one when you're forty two! And that it's just "ten years away!" Jeez. The first ten and a half happened way too quickly.

So I've decided to slow my roll and enjoy every day.

Every cookie too.

After driving close to 1,000 miles and visiting both our families, I wanted to hug my driveway when we got home (I didn't, it was too cold). While I do miss our families and living within a few minutes drive, it is always nice to come home to your own things.

I can say that everyone got special presents and lots of laughs were had. My son has new DJ equipment to experiment with, new tshirts to out grow (so I can wear them), new things to build and enjoy. Each family members gift was chosen with them in mind, so I know my Dad's excitement over those 3 mock turtle necks was real- he LOVES those Steve Job's shirts!

As for me, I asked for a simple necklace with the letter J on it- which I received and promptly put around my neck. And then, in true fashion, my husband surprised me with a gift I never even saw coming:

A brand new camera (I had to take the required camera photo here).

There was a small catch though- I am to take photography classes. Not that I'm a bad photographer, but my husband thought that I'd enjoy taking classes in regards to the field. I'm game. Besides, it'll give me something fun to look forward to on Thursday nights. Not that I don't enjoy watching Beavis & Butthead, but a girl has to broaden her horizons, yknow?

While I can tend to be a grinch about Christmas, I always enjoy every moment of it. From midnight mass & family dinners served on antique China to laying on the couch eating half a box of See's candy by myself.

I hope your Christmas was well spent, well enjoyed and full of happy, hand clapping surprises.

Shit Girls Say - Episode 1

2011-12-18T12:41:00.000-08:00

On The Menu:

2011-12-11T12:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I was browsing through my blog roll, catching up on- well, blogger stuff when I came across a recipe that literally made my mouth start to water.

Butternut Squash & Pesto Cheesecake.

FTW?!

Exactly.

I found it over at Mama's Minutia, a blog that I've been reading for about a year. While I never comment, I do find myself sucked into her site for sometimes hours at a time. All her recipes are brilliantly delicious and her writing makes you feel as if you were right there with her in the kitchen.

The recipe needed is below. I can't tell you how mine has turned out, as it still has a good 25 minutes left in the oven. What I can tell you is that my house smells savory and decadent. I won't lie- I'm not a huge butternut squash fan, so I roasted mine with olive oil, herbs, S&P. I tasted a bit before I pureed it. Verdict? LEGIT. Oh- and for my breadcrumbs I crunched up 1/2 a sleeve of wheat crackers, added in some garlic & pepper salt and a pinch oregano. If any of you make this, let me know how yours turned out and if you liked it!

Next up this week for eats will be spinach bisque and because my Ma mailed me five lbs of kielbasa from Detroit, we'll be snacking on that. Maybe a little homemade pizza (the kind with cauliflower crust because I'm a sneaky Mom).

Enjoy mates!

Butternut Squash Pesto Cheesecake
Adapted from Kate over at Motley Mama

1 cup cottage cheese
1 8-ounce block of cream cheese
2/3 cup grated fresh Parmesan
2 eggs
½ cup roasted butternut squash puree
½ teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 cup pesto, thinned with olive oil (if necessary), and divided
1 cup toasted bread crumbs or savory cracker crumbs
2 tablespoons butter, melted

For the crust:
Toss the crumbs with the butter and press into the bottom of a greased, 8-inch springform pan. Pat crumbs firmly to make a bottom crust (no need to worry about the sides), and set aside.

For the cheesecake:
Put the cottage cheese into the bowl of your food processor and pulse until creamy smooth. Add the cream cheese, Parmesan, eggs, squash, and salt and pepper and pulse until silky. Taste to check seasonings (I added about another 1/4 teaspoon salt).

Pour half of the cream cheese batter into the crumb-lined pan. Drizzle half of the pesto over the batter. Carefully pour the remaining batter into the pan and drizzle with the remaining pesto. Using a table knife, gently (and artfully!) swirl the pesto into the batter.

Bake the cheesecake at 350 degrees for 50-60 minutes. The cake should be puffy, but the middle should still be a little jiggly (just like your tummy will be after you eat it). Turn the oven off and prop open the door by wedging it with the handle of a wooden spoon—let the cake sit in the oven for one hour more.

One Bookcase, Two Hands

2011-12-08T18:35:00.000-08:00

Tonight my son and I drove up to the mega chain bookstore. He’d gotten a gift card from my Ma for Christmas. Wasn’t in his hands a mere thirty minutes before he’s begging to take the drive to the other side of town. During rush hour.

There are books I NEED Mom.

Emphasis on NEED.

I agree to go. How could I not? My ten year old wants to spend an evening at the bookstore with me. I have to agree. It’s my dream come true.

The place was packed, everyone buying their e-readers, hogging up the benches in the magazine section with their fat asses. Just big ole asses, hanging over the edge. My God. I looked down at myself. Meh. Holiday pounds. Give or take three maybe.

We made a pit stop in the cafe and I order a cappuccino.

I got a latte.

Gross.

The two of us split a blondie bar as we ride up the escalator. I follow my son to the sci-fi/fantasy/take me out of this 5th grade hell hole of a class section. While I sip my “Latte-ccino” we start discussing poets.

“I’m reading those chap books I found on the shelf. Is that cool?”

“Yeah,” sip sip, “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“Most of it blows anyway. Did you read them? They’re from 2006, so maybe those writers have gotten better.”

“Maybe,” I respond.

We argue quickly over how he shouldn’t buy a book he’s already got at home (the cover is torn, need a new one. Pfft) before we head to the non fiction section. Tucked off in the corner is a small bookcase labelled: POETRY.

My son gives me a head nod, “Check it out?”

As I stand there, my middle finger runs along all the bindings. I see titles like, “50 Poems That Will Change Your Life” (doubt it), “Poetry for the Heart” (blech), and other Chicken Soup for your Pathetic Soul shit. That’s in the middle. I look upwards to the top shelf, mull over some Chaucer, Homer, words that seem over my head at the moment, but I’m not in the mood.

“What about Paz?” he says. “You’ve got one of his books, I saw it next to some eye book. You want this for your birthday?”

I hold the book in my hand, flip the pages. It’s a good one and for a moment, I find myself sucked into his writing. My eyes go from the Spanish to the English translation. Left to right. Foreign, Familiar. I forget I’m in a mega bookstore for a moment.

I’m gone.

Until I get a tap on the elbow.

“You want this one for your birthday?” he’s holding a pretty big book. White cover, gritty old man face on the front.

Ahh, Bukowski. Why’s it always him?

“Ma, you know I can read this, right?”

We discuss why I think he shouldn’t.

He makes a some what valued statement in return about how, in life, you have to sometimes fight for what you really want. Did you just reference a Beastie Boys song to me son? Go Occupy Your Bedroom.

We laugh.

“You can buy this, this and THIS for me.” I hand over Sylvia Plath’s Ariel, The Collected Poems of Octavio Paz and The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe.

“For your birthday, right?”

“No. Christmas.”

On the way down the escalator, I toss my drink from the bottom step into an open trash can. In a rare moment of tenderness, my boy puts his hand through mine. Like a big glove and a small glove shaking hands. Only when I look down, I see his hand his is the same size as mine now.

I feel a lump in my throat and give his palm a squeeze.

2011-12-04T07:19:00.000-08:00

One of my all time favorite sites: Eat, Sleep, Draw. I spend quite a bit of my day over there, scrolling through the doodles, sketches, paintings and mixed media that people have created. Love it. Right now, they are selling hand made sketch books for seven bucks, free shipping too. I think they have 50 left, go get you one.

With Christmas right around the corner, I've got little lists laying all around the house. One list has Miles name on it, only underneath the line it says: COAL. Heh. You wanna be a sneak, you'll be disappointed! While I never do have my own Christmas traditions, there is one:

When Miles was around 4 or 5 he was obsessed with collecting these little ninjas out of coin machines. Shortly after that, I started to see this ninja in the Dickens Village. So every Christmas when I put out the village, I must include the ninja. It's how we do.

This is the only picture I took over Thanksgiving. Some random lady in Wal-mart around 2 am. That's it! I'm slightly bummed I didn't get any photos of family. Boo. At least there will be Christmas time!

And finally,

My darling Murphasaurus:

Before The Terror Begins

2011-11-19T10:27:00.000-08:00

It's literally been years since I've had a puppy. The wear and tear, the vet appointments, is he gnawing on the right toy, the wondering of what spot he'll choose to pinch a loaf... the mental anguish exhausts me sometimes. I was curious as to whether or not Murph would be a good fit for our family too. Trust me, I read enough horror stories online about jerk pets. Not that it's the pets fault, but you know what I'm getting at. Will everyone get along? Will Murph melt my heart, even when he carries off one of my knitting projects? Will Abby accept him and not slice him up with her talons?

Last week when I was watching tv on the couch, I glanced down at Murph and got the answer to my question:

Do you see this?

This is Murphy, passed out cold on his back, junk exposed, one paw on the remote. I promise you, hand to heart, I did not stage this photo at all. That's how he sleeps! Just like two OTHER fella's in this house (except they just fall asleep in their boxers, not like Murph here).

Even Abby has quit shunning us and on occasion, she's even been known to chase Murphy. He still tries to act like a bad ass in front of her, barking and jumping in circles. She's unamused. However, I have discovered that my cat is partial to wet dog food. And refuses to eat cat food anymore.

I always knew she was a dog in a former life.