VAY-CAY-SHUN

I am going on vacation and although I am dedicated to posting here a bit more, I am leaving my laptop at home. GASP! I know, I am experiencing minor separation anxiety thinking about it too.

Related: Do family visits count as real vacations? I think yes, but at like a rate of 50% vacation-ness. Nothing against family, but if you are anything like me, traveling to 3 different states/places over the course of 2 weeks, all family related stuff is umm... exhausting. Good exhausting, but I will want to sleep after this for probably 15 days straight. Does this make me freakishly sensitive and weak or self-aware and everyone actually feels this way, but doesn't always post it to their blog? The blog that their parents sometimes read. Yeah.

Whatever. I will be back soon. In the meantime:

I might think this once or twice over the course of my vacation.

And I may do this when I get home for 2-4 days in a row.

But then again, family... Awwwww and totes worth it.

Pen to paper

You might think that I haven't been blogging at all this July and that June 28th was the last time I put together a blog post, but you'd be wrong. Yes, you do have empirical evidence on your side, but truth be told I have blogged pretty much every day, for hours at a time actually. Usually at night while I am in bed.

Except the trickstery thing is all the stories I am spinning and editing... are in my head. Seriously, I pretty much (much, pretty) only blog in my brain, late at night when sleep is too far off and the clutter in my brain needs sorting. And often the everything-up-there insists that I try to make it funny, maybe funnier than it really was? I say to myself, "funny brain, I am going to write this all down tomorrow on my blog! I am so glad we hashed out why I like baths so much, but not really for getting clean and how that isn't gross at all! We are such a crazy duo." This is followed by a mental friendly shoulder punch to... myself? Well, to my brain-self at least.

The next day I wake up and know, without a doubt I will not bother to type up and post my Very Important Musings About Bath Taking, at all. And then I get kinda bummed out, because, I really like to write. I love thinking about writing, I love editing (though you wouldn't know it what with all the typos in my prose) and I love reading good stories. The actual process of fingers to keys and ink to paper is beautiful to me.

So, I decided to make a change in how my late night thoughts get dealt with. In an attempt to capture them better and remind me of the joy of writing I started jotting down the ideas WITH A PEN AND A NOTEBOOK. It seriously felt sort of revolutionary. Like, when was the last time I just jotted down my ideas as not pertaining to work, things to get at the store or cuss words while on hold with my internet/phone/bank/medical/anything help-line related phone services?

It had been a while. I needed to be gentle with myself. But the moment I started to watch my silly ideas fill up a page with ink, I couldn't stop. I have at least 20 blog entries outlined in my B&W composition notebook that I keep by my bed. Really, I do. It is Cray-Zay, folks.

The trick is of course bridging the gap from ink on lined paper to typeset on a blogspot format.

This is all to say, that I am feeling the blog again and though it is slow going I hope to post all 20 of my handwritten (perhaps better described as handscribbled? My penwomanship [EQUALITY!] is fucking atrocious these days. Like, I seriously COULD NOT READ MY OWN NOTES a few days ago about something kind of important. It just looked like a drunk dyslexic had decided to make a few comments on sticky note, attach it to an important work document and then "dipsy doodle" on down to the Mayberry Courthouse to take a 24 hour nap and sober up. See picture below/Andy Griffith Show for reference.) notes and entries. (Did you hang in after that last parentheses? A doosy if I do say so myself.)

Besides this long and, well, rather boring diatribe I figured I owe it to you to a) post one of the short blog ideas I had and b) post a cool/weird/funny picture or two.

A):

BAD JOKES FROM MY DREAM BRAIN:

The other morning at about 4:30/5 am, when I often find myself awaking, but refusing to get up because 1) in no way is that enough sleep 2) I hate the mornings so very much and 3) I must have come out of a dream rather suddenly. Likely I was roused by a sound that I didn't totally register because I have taken to wearing earplugs every night. In great part the earplugs are due to the chihuahuas of THE FUCKING DEVIL that live next door and have owners that either are deaf or think incessant yapping at god awful hours is cute behavior for FUCKING RAT DOGS. I'm sorry, I even know a few chihuahuas that I really like, but these two? THESE TWO CAN FUCKING DIE I DON'T CARE ONE FUCKING BIT.

So. A noise? Maybe. The dream was severed rapidly and as I came back up for conscious air I found myself chuckling at a joke that had just been told by a stand up comedian in my dream. She was on a big stage with little adornment besides the mike stand, a stool with water bottles and the spotlight that followed her. Pretty regular stuff, right? When I opened my eyes I was so excited to replay the joke in my head because, shit, I WOKE UP LAUGHING. It must have been good. I went to write it down. This is how it goes, Word. For. Effing. Word.

"So this farmer is smoking a cigarette outside of his barn and looks down at his watch. He notices that there are fucking fish eggs in his watch and looks closer.

Then! He get ones of the eggs pregnant and I'm all, 'Dude, well you knoooow you gotta take that to the bank!"

The house erupts with riotous laughter and I fade into waking life, a giggle escaping my lips.

What. The. Hell. Is. That. Shit. That is not funny. It is creepy. Did the farmer jerk into his own watch? How did this inter-species love action happen? WHY IS IT A JOKE?

That day started with such promise while I was still too sleepy to understand the unfunny ramifications of such a bad joke, but upon reading it back to myself I understood. That day would be best spent in underwear and an oversized button-up shirt, eating food out of containers, not off plates in order to better settle into my mediocrity.

I recovered though. When I got sent home from work for not wearing pants and eating ice-cream soup out of a Haagen Daz container.

(This part did not happen, but I feel it is amusing.)

B)

X effing O my ducklings.

(I sooo have an entry about affectionate terms bloggers use for their readers.)

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

Where did I go over the last few months? Oh, the usual places. The astral plane for cartwheel lessons. Weekends spent enviously reading the entire blog archives of, like, real bloggers. Busy analyzing why my fingernails suddenly became brittle and incapable of growing more than a millimeter past my nail bed (diet? weather? pesticides? CANCER?!?).

But the important thing is that I am here, I am with you now and you're not alone anymore. Or, you know, whatever. WORDS. ON A PAGE. ON THE INTERNET.

I don't remember how to blog apparently.

But whoa buddy do I have a back-stock of wacky internet pictures to share and probably a story or two.

That person is not me. Because there is nothing discreet about my dancing through my local Trader Joe's. Have you listened to the music they play?!? It is ALWAYS rocking. 60's RnB and Rock. 70's Disco Hits. 80's Pop-Synth goodness. I walk in with the Gorgeous German and immediately start stepping in time to the tunes. I don't even realize the extent of my gesticulating about until he points out how cute it is that I am lip-synching "It's Raining Men" into a tube of goat cheese while re-stacking the cart so we don't squash the squash. YEAH, he finds the behavior endearing and not horribly embarrassing of me or kind of weird in a dangerous mental state kind of way for someone approaching 30. He's pretty into it actually. So if anything it is his fault for encouraging my storewide rampage.

We get all sorts of reactions. Like today, while I boogied down the frozen isle searching in vain for the GARLIC NAAN OF ADDICTIVE GOODNESS. My mister with his level head (literally as he isn't busy bouncing and bopping along) was able to spot it pretty much immediately which is good because I was starting to panic that they didn't carry it anymore and I just couldn't believe that. Have you tried it? Toss some olive oil on it when it comes out of the oven and jesus christo that and some greek yogurt with garlic and tomatoes is all I need for dinner. Yes, I have lovely breath all the time. Also, TJ's I will accept payment for this advertisement in GARLIC NAAN.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, reactions. I get lots of meaningfully raised eyebrows from older ladies who drive very fancy cars. Or maybe their foreheads are frozen and they just can't lower their brows anymore? Dude, botox/cosmetic surgery has made reading social cues even harder for me...

The TJ's guy that recommends wine seems to dig my vibe though. He has a Santa beard and instead of rosy cheeks has a bulbous, rosy nose so you know he takes his job as Wine Guy pretty seriously. I admire dedication to one's job. Maybe I should apply to be his apprentice. Or like the person who knows the flavor palette of the really cheap wines. Over $4.99? Psshhh, ask drunk Santa guy.

In case you are wondering, no this story has no point. Remember, I don't know how to blog anymore, so you just shut your dirty mouth! I mean, come back soon to see how far I tumble into incomprehensibility. It'll be fun!

Other pictures:

I cannot help but giggle every time I see this. It is internet gold.

And then to sum up todays post, I give you:

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot? I have no idea, but maybe I'll start to figure it out again. And thanks for stopping by.

J'aime la Nourriture: Red Cabbage and Yam Stew

Something I really admire on other blogs are cooking features and since I am a fan of cooking, eating and have this pseudo-french theme thing going on, I figure why not run with it to excess and label my cooking series "J'aime la Nourriture" (I Love Food). So here we go, I Love Food: Red Cabbage and Yam Stew.

You guys, this stew. Mon fucking Dieu, this stew! It is tasty, healthy, mostly seasonal and not particularly challenging. I am so glad it made enough for plenty of leftovers, for reeeeeal.

Ingredients (in order of use):

All ingredients are very loosely measured because YOU CAN'T CAGE ME IN. Also, I believe cooking should be somewhat free-wheelin' slap-dash-y fun. Aaaand I don't have measuring cups besides a big glass one for liquid. So yeah.

1 healthy pour of olive oil

4 garlic cloves (smooshed/sliced)

1 red onion (chopped coarsely)

1 leek (sliced)

As many pinches of salt as needed

2 medium sized yams cubed (think bite size)

Dash of caraway seeds

Healthy dash of paprika

3 cups broth* (any kind will do, but I suggest veggie. More on this below)

2-3 bay leaves

Healthy dash of sage

Dash of red pepper flakes

2 cups water

1 can of diced tomatoes

1/2 head red cabbage (very coarsely chopped)

1 can of kidney beans

Garnish:

Scoop of light sour cream

Sprinkling of finely diced italian parsley

Sprinkling of ground flaxseed

Here is how it goes down:

Chop garlic, onion, leek, and yams.

Get yourself a large stock pot and put it on a medium/medium-high flame. Pour in olive oil and heat. Toss in garlic, leeks and onion. They should sizzle a bit and start smelling like you are an awesome chef immediately. Salt this awesomeness. (Basically salt every ingredient as you put it in to pull out flavor and juices. Seriously, SALT IT. It will seem like too much. It is not.) Stir it around for a couple of minutes. Add chopped yams. Again with the sizzle, but slightly less this time. Stir to coat with oil and the other stuff. Keep an eye on it and adjust the flame as needed. The goal is to get a little color on the bottom of the pot and let the veggies pick up some of this along with flavor. You do not want to burn them, because, eww burnt garlic is all kinds of funky. The yams should be cooked for 3-5 minutes, but let the color be your guide.

Stir in caraway seeds and paprika and let them coat the ingredients. Add stock. *Okay, so I used two kinds of stock that I had leftover. About 1 1/2 cups turkey stock that I had frozen and needed to use and 2 (ish) cups compost veggie stock I made this last weekend with beets, leeks, carrots, cabbage and few other things. Here is a basic recipe if you are interested in making it at home. Toss in the sage, bay leaves and red pepper flakes. Pour in some water to make sure you have lots of liquid as well as the can of tomatoes (with juices). Stir this up and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and set the timer for 20-25 minutes. Again, use the food as your guide instead of the clock if you can. When the yams start to get soft you are ready for your next step.

(Here it is without water and tomatoes)

(Here are the kidney beans [rinsed] and cabbage ready to dive in.)

Add cabbage and kidney beans and let these cook with the rest for 10-15 minutes. Really this time depends on how cooked you want your cabbage. I like mine with a little crunch left to them as well as good color, but there really is no bad way to finish the stew up at this point. Once you have reached the right amount of cooked through, be sure to taste the broth to check on salt and pepper levels. Adjust as you like. Top with garnish and serve with toasted rye bread or faux-crostinis (baked rye bread [sliced into 2 inch pieces] with olive oil, paprika, and garlic. Highly advisable). Finally, look awesome in your thrift store scored vintage apron and get ready to eat such a tasty meal.

Cat

I am nearly certain this is how my cat sees himself.

And then there was one

It's a new day and so it goes that there are probably 32,481 new blogs added to the blogosphere just in the last 24 hours, ranging in subject from claw-foot bathtubs to life on an island to deep fried foods. At least 14% of these new blogs will focus on cats. To this melee I am happy to add "I Love You To Madness." It is a yet-to-be-determined kind of blog, but I've got a good feeling. If you are coming over from my old blog, thank you for making the trip. I will try to reward you with awesomeness and funny pictures. Some things just don't change.

It shall be "l'area de oolala" from now on.

Just because: HAPPY!

It's true. C'est vrai.