A week off the juice

Both Phenom and I are marking a full week off the juice.  His "juice" is steroids.  He was taking them for a rash that popped up due to the stress of trying to keep a monkey from climbing the walls during a prolonged confinement that seemed much too much like the lab days.  He finally worked his way down to the end of the graduated dose.  He loved being "juiced" . . . he said it made him feel alert and energetic.

My "juice" was narcotic pain killers.  I've been exposed to quite a range of narcotics in the last few months.  Morphine doesn't do much for me.  I spent three days on oxy being the happiest drunk you've ever seen.  I have a huge bottle of vicodin.  But, narcotics are a cruel mistress and I decided a few weeks ago to wean off of them.  I tried it about a month ago. . . just went cold turkey.  I woke up the next morning and couldn't lift my arms.

So, we've had conversations with my doctor and worked out another plan.  I'm trying to return to my old pain meds routine.  It's taken a while and I'm not entirely happy.  I might have to have another conversation with my doc and try one of the newer, fancy arthritis meds.

The upside for me is that I can now have a margarita with Friday night Mexicanish food.  Phenom just misses the days of 'roid rage.  I think I won this contest.

I really need to be cleared to return to work

Remember when I wrote about how my television viewing habits had gone to pot during my recovery?  I might have reached a new low.

During one of the hospital stays, I saw this show advertised, over and over and over and over.  The focal character was such an ass that the ads alone kinda pissed me off and made me hate him.

Then, one night after returning home, I was out of bed (doctor wanted me out of bed as much as possible when I wasn't sleeping) late one Saturday night, watching television with Phenom.  And the show came on.  And, we didn't change the channel.  And, I learned that one night I was in the hospital, Phenom had already watched an episode.

Then, I found myself not changing the channel when I'd just happen to run across it while surfing.

Tonight, I actually sought it out.  And, I found myself thinking that perhaps he isn't so horrible/crazy after all.

Who knew massive piles of paperwork kept me sane?

Ahhhh Spring

I've gone a little spring crazy.  It was a long, cold winter.  The weather still doesn't seem to want to turn.  I still have not done the annual winter to summer wardrobe switch.  But, I get afternoon sun in my office, and I have the window office.  So, I have a "window farm."

Last week, we had the smallest cilantro harvest ever.  This week, I will need to snip back the parsley.  Soon, I'll have basil for my tomato sandwiches.

Also, in the past week, the strawberry patches have opened up.  I'm a believer in eating seasonally.  I particularly like eating fruit in season.  More precisely, I eat the fruit while it's in season until I'm sick of it.  Then, I'm good until the next year.

I have to confess. . .  I've spent almost $40 on strawberries in the last week.  I might have a problem.

Meh . . . probably not.

Lunch that will justify candy later

We had a perfect lunch from the farmer's market today.  We got fresh corn on the cob, shucked it, and wrapped a couple ears at a time in wet paper towels and then microwaved it for about 4 minutes.  PERFECTLY cooked.  I brought in the Tabasco Salt for the corn. 

Then, we had tomato sandwiches.  Largely because it is what I could live off of in the summer.  Bolillo rolls, mayo, sliced tomatoes, and some salt and pepper.  I also found a block of motz in the fridge this morning (from pizza I had intended to make but then decided heating up the kitchen wasn't worth it) and sliced it for the sandwiches.

But, the real fun was the cucumber salad.  I love cucumbers.  If Phenom liked them, I assume I could slice one up for dinner every night in the summer.

Yesterday, our vegetarian student worker treated us to a rant about how she hates pickles and olives and anything in vinegar.  There were screwed up faces and declarations about her hatred of anything vinegary. 

But, she loves loves loves the pickled peppers I make for feta bruschetta.  She claimed that somehow, that was different.  I told her I use vinegar in that dressing.  She still insisted that the pickled peppers were special and she refused to accept that they had vinegar.

So, today, I mixed up some of the dressing and tossed a sliced cucumber in, and stashed it in the fridge for lunch.  The cucumbers ended up being slightly pickled and they were sweet and spicy and I imagine will be my new all time favorite thing.

In a jar, mix about 1/4 cup red wine vinegar, about 3 tbls sugar, a pinch of salt, 1 large garlic clove grated, and about 1/4 tsp red pepper flakes.  Seal up the jar and shake until the sugar is dissolved.  Add to sliced cucumber (although, I'm thinking that little slices of radish or paper thin slices of carrot would work too) and leave in the fridge about 4 hours.  I liked the thinner slices that were more "pickled" so I think I could make this in the AM for dinner with thicker slices.  The salt will draw some of the water out of the cucumbers, which shouldn't cause you distress.

Sadly, student worker decided to take the afternoon off and missed out on my newest VINEGARY masterpiece.  More for me.

Surrounded by addicts

We have a wee addiction problem running through our household.  And, I admit, I got them started and hooked.

Louie and Oscar have it the worst.  I didn't have the heart to tell Oscar he was trying to huff the wrong end of the tube.

Sad, really.

Pico

I admit it.  I have a culinary crush on Donald Link.  So, when he posted a recipe for pico de gallo on facebook today, I immediately started to crave some pico.  Then, the fates worked in concert and I managed to escape an obligation just a tad early.  I drove out to my favorite farm stand and picked up what I needed for fresh pico (and a couple of quarts of blackberries for blackberry vodka).  

Pico de Gallo.

Finely chop up 3 good sized, ripe, farm fresh tomatoes, 2 jalapenos, a small onion (purple is pretty), and a small handful of cilantro.  Dress with the juice of a lime and about a teaspoon of salt.  Also, sprinkle in just a pinch of chili powder.  Allow to sit in the fridge for at least an hour before you devour with a family sized bag of little bowl shaped tortilla chips.

I served it up with cheese quesadillas and refried beans.  Quick, yummy, and limited extra heating of the kitchen.  How could you go wrong?

Warming to it

I'm posting it here because ESK is tired of me talking about it and thinks I should just give up already.  I watched the final episode of Girls for the season.  And, I'm warming up.  Of course, the season ended so my obsession should abate for several months.

I'm hoping that what the writer was going for was several episodes to demonstrate how young and clueless the characters actually are and the end of the season movement will continue to next season.

Hannah is finally getting the relationship she wants with Adam.  Marnie is realizing that she'd boxed herself in and prematurely defined who she was before ever even arriving in NYC.  Jessa is still running around being outrageous, but I wonder if that will be her life story.  And the virgin, whose name escaped me due to near total lack of development as a character, is about to embark on being fuckable.

At the end of the season, all of the girls are making 180 changes in their lives.  I'm hoping that with Marnie and Hannah, they are realizing that they have finally made the leap to being New Yorkers, but they aren't actually living the lives they imagined being New Yorkers would lead them to being.  I hope next season, Marnie has some fun, outrageous experiences.  I hope Hannah realizes that if she actually wants to be the voice of her generation she is going to have to stop waiting for the world to just notice her as she stands in the corner, shoving cake into her mouth, and she will work really really hard to both hone that voice and get louder. 

I think, at season end, I like the character of the virgin best.  She is still in school, but she seems to have a direction.  She may be flawed and struggle to figure out who she is, but she is aware that she is struggling and awkward and it is still endearing.  Hannah is so terrified of her own shadow that she effs up everything before she it threatens to be good.  Marnie is just discovering how to have fun.  And, Jessa is going to float from disaster to disaster, and never take responsibility for her part.

Maybe my initial reaction to the show was I so clearly remember that time in my own life, in the lives of the people I hold dear.  But you know what?  If you don't eff it up too badly, you do grow up.

Sappy

I have a confession to make.  I read the Vows column every week.  I have for years and years now.  Along with Post Secret, it is part of my Sunday morning routine.  Some times the stories are touching and bring a tear to my cynical eye, other times I just roll my eyes. 

This week, I was surprised to learn that the column is celebrating 20 years of being around this year.  Sap that I am, I'm finding this touching, because later this year Phenom and I will be celebrating 20 years of being hitched. 

One of the aspects of our relationship I find most interesting is that even after so many years of being together, I still learn things about the Phenom.  And, we still have tremendous fun hanging out together. 

But, more than hanging out and having fun, there is such security in knowing that we have such a long history together, that we have weathered difficulties together, and pretty much have arrived at something like happily ever after. 

I told you it was a sappy post.

One of those "ask forgiveness" situations?

One of the first, fundamental, lessons I learned about being human is that sometimes it is better to ask forgiveness than permission.  Generally, I think that any situation covered by this rule is probably something you ought to think twice about in the first place. 

But.  There is always a but, right?

Last month, my backwards little community finally started curbside recycling.  I've been sorting trash like a champ since.  Last pick up, we actually filled our 96 gallon recycling container.  I was so proud, even if I didn't get an award.

Phenom thinks I'm obsessed with recycling.  On one hand, there seem to be some items, like copy paper, that he thinks it is unreasonable to recycle, but on the other, he is more than happy to leave all the cat food cans for me to peel the labels and wash out. 

This weekend, after making my first Saturday morning visit to our tailgate farmer's market (WOOT), I was making a big ol' salad with all the fresh veggies when I thought to myself . . . I wonder what Phenom would say/do if I got a composter?  We throw out so much in the way of compostables.  It would be nice to have my own organic compost for the garden. 

Perhaps if one follows me home from work one day, we can keep it?

End of the Semester Conversations

Ah, the end of the semester and time to bid farewell to our interns.  Over the years, I've made it my policy to save the ickiest conversations for the end.  I usually start off with a big wind up of "I just want to throw this out there . . . I don't really want you to react, just listen and consider it some time on your own."  And, then I try to share the tidbit of wisdom I hope will let them know that I noticed them, and have concerns for their future.

One year, I shared the rule of "once you break up with someone, neither they, nor their friends, ever get to see you naked again."  You wouldn't think that this is the sort of advice you'd have to share with a soon to be "responsible and educated" member of society.  But, you'd be surprised what the kids are getting into these days.

Today, I took one of our interns to lunch, all by herself.  And, while she picked at the bit of steamed rice and avocado she ordered, I gently suggested that she spend time considering her eating habits.  I gave a pretty academic run down of the various habits I'd noticed over the semester . . . like her obsession with body building women (pictures she posts daily on her tumblr), her habit of rattling off every single food item she'd eaten in the past 24-hours, and her uncanny knowledge of the various attributes of the various diet schemes (Jenny Craig vs. Nutrasystem, etc), and her claiming to be a vegetarian/vegan when she doesn't actually eat vegetables.  (I didn't bring up her ability to recall content on various "pro-ana" web sites, she did.)  I ended it with the line that sometimes, girls hide an eating disorder behind radical diets.

She didn't deny it.  I hope that's a good sign.

Not So Deep or Dark Secret

The other day, in the office, ESK and Baby (the name we've assigned to one of the interns) and I were talking about upcoming events, and making note of when deliveries are expected to the office.  I mentioned that I have a personal item being delivered to the office.  And, somehow, we ended up talking about the days when I had something of an Ebay habit.

ESK and Baby were aghast as I described how the bidding on Ebay was too much like gambling for me to resist and how I tended towards vindictive bidding when someone got into a bidding war with me.  And, how finally,  had to close out my paypal account and just walk away, cold turkey.

Thing I found amusing was that ESK was surprised by this.  I mean, really, after 5 years this would surprise her?

But, since our conversation, all I can think about, today, is just checking out Ebay.  Just see what there is . . .

Still a problem

In January, in a fit of peak, I purchased a doodad thingie.  One of those computers that slide into your bag.  I can read books, check facebook, play games, and view movies/television on it.  I could do my finances on it, listen to music, or store all my photos too.  If I were organized enough.

But, now that I can literally carry a library of reading around with me, you'd think I'd have fewer books lying around, right?  Nope.  Today, the foot-of-the-bed haul was 3 books and 5 magazines.

I might have a slight problem with hoarding books, cookbooks, and magazines.  Might.

The Drug Habit in my own House

I made a startling realization the other day, one of our cats is a drug addict.  The drug being catnip.

Her name is Booger.  She showed up on our drive way, unweaned and tiny.  We bottle fed her for the first couple of weeks, and I took her to the office with me.  She would spend 30 minutes stretches chasing her own tail on top of my desk.  She has always liked to have small, dark, cramped spaces to hide in, away from everyone.  We call these spaces "Booger places."  Currently, she wedges herself under the wine rack for much of the day.  Booger is affectionate in her own way.  She likes to be petted, but on her own terms.  She lives in fear of being picked up.  If your petting seems too similar to an action that maybe, perhaps, will lead to an attempt to pick her up, she bolts.

One way I like to make toys for the critters is to take smallish stuffed animals, open a seam, restuff it with catnip, and sew it up again.  Even better if the stuffed animal is a gerbil or mouse or bird.

Booger has taken to a duck stuffed with catnip.  She spends a good deal of time curled up with the duck.

Now, with humans who have a drug habit, they become cautionary tales for the rest of the bipeds.  Who hasn't seen the photos of pre and during addiction?  The shiny hair, the clear skin, the youthful expression replaced with splotches, balding spots, green or lost teeth, the dead look in the eyes. 

Not Booger.  Booger's addiction makes her more social.  No more inclined to be picked up, but more willing to socialize or even be seen by guests.  I think I need to make her a few more cat nip toys . . . perhaps shove a couple under the wine rack. 

Can't go back

I had this conversation with a friend several years ago . . . the items that once you try them, you'll never accept another substitute. Like real garlic over powdered stuff or ginger in a tube rather than grating it yourself.

Tonight, we took a friend on a "date" (her term, not ours). Her husband is out of town on business and she's prone to not leaving her house if she doesn't have to. We went to dinner at the local brew pub and to the arty theater. The arty theater is actually a classic old movie house (from back in the day when going to a movie was an event, not just what you did when you couldn't think of anything better to do). There are two screens . . . the larger downstairs has fewer than 150 seats and the theater upstairs (the newer) has about 50 seats. They show lots of independent films but they are getting more mainstream stuff too . . . I guess the big draws allow them to keep the smaller films coming.

They have good truffles, and the classic movie candies, and they actually pop their own popcorn, and you can have hot tea or beer or wine.

This was the first time we saw a movie in the upstairs theater . . . the seats are almost loungers and very cushy and have a bit of give in the back. And, they have wine and beer.

Phenom explained to our friend that we haven't been to any other theater since we starting going to this one. It had not occurred to me before now that such was true. Our friend decided she needs to take her husband . . . but fears he'll never want to go to another theater again. And, they have beer and wine. (Hey, I live in the south . . . there are still people here who buy their booze from the drive up window at the back of the drug store.)

New time waster

This is my new favorite "screen saver" at work. The only thing that I dislike is that because they are on the opposite coast, they don't start broadcasting until my midmorning.

The puppies are now at an age where they are playing a lot . . . and like to try to eat each other's faces. Monkeys don't really do that . . . we are much more into chase. But "I eat your face" looks like a fun game.

Darrin is a moron

So, as most folks who know me know that I'm addicted easily. One of my newer addictions is Hulu. Hulu is a website through which you can watch movies and television. The tv shows range from current stuff (mostly nbc) to old, classic stuff. They have entire series from pilot to end. I've been alternating between Arrested Development and old episodes of Bewitched.

Tonight, I came to the conclusion that Darrin is a moron. Seriously . . . his wife can twitch her nose and any food you might ever want magically appears . . . . and you never have to pay for the food? Why would anyone turn that down? I mean, I understand him not wanting her to interfere with the course of history or the fate of others . . . but who wants scrambled eggs when a perfect filet is an option?

The Day of Addictions

First off . . . thank you library ghost for informing me that tiger knickers are passe . . . I wouldn't want my first pair of knickers to be passe!

Second, as is my custom, I've become totally addicted to multiple things at once. First, facebook. Honestly, I'd forgotten I even ever set up an account. I only set it up so I could check out the backstory of the very good looking, very young waiter at the favorite restaurant of the Chick and mine. But, then, today, some random person who thinks they know me but didn't really added me as a friend on facebook . . . and Voila! suddenly there is this crazy business of adding friends . . . and commenting . . . and uploading cutsy items . . . and the illusion of temporary popularity.

And, a couple new web sites . . . the tongue in cheek site Stuff White People Like. Apparently, it's not enough for me to just pass as human, but I must also claim to be a particular color of human. It's all so overwhelming . . . but the site is very helpful.

And those pickled onions . . . can't get enough of them.

Now, back to facebook.