Archive for November, 2007


TMI Tuesdays!

November 27, 2007

i’m starting TMI tuesdays.  maybe.  check back next week to see if i stick with it.  i figure it’s a chance, for those who wish, to learn more about me.  i can’t remember where i saw this first but you can find it here.  and since the TMI blog typically posts their questions very late on tuesday nights, i’m going to start with last weeks questions and be in a perpetual state of one-week-behind-ness.  whatevs.

so, without further delay, here are the questions and answers!

Q 1. what is the sexiest gesture a woman can make?

A 1. anything with her mouth.  this can range from eating to sipping a drink to a tiny little purse of the lips.  this goes for men, too.  mouths are just hot. 

Q 2. what are three inevitable things about you?

A 2. i will try to prove i’m right, no matter what; i will say highly inappropriate things, most times of a sexual nature, when i’m tipsy; i will sacrifice my own needs for the needs of others.

Q 3. what do you want…now?

A 3. mcdonalds’ sausage, egg and cheese biscuit.  i’m hungry!

Q 4. what asset do you have besides the physical and material?

A 4. i have a fairly acute sense of intuition.  i have premonitory dreams and have been known to fall into extreme states of deja vu, or more specifically deja entendu (trans. already heard), on the regular.  all of these things, though at times frightening, have been very helpful to me throughout my life.  they’re like little gifts i’ve been able to open and explore along the path of self actualization.  i don’t view them as physical assets in the sense that Freud would.  i don’t think this phenomena is attached to my cognitive function.  i think it’s more parapsychological in nature and therefore extraphysical.  phew!

Q 5. describe a sexy mind.

A 5. one that is creative yet practical.

Bonus Q. what [were] you thankful for this thanksgiving?

Bonus A. i am continually thankful for mr. D and our decision to open ourselves to love.  we didn’t spend thanksgiving together last year; the newness of our relationship prevented mingling with each other’s families.  this year was different and i found myself staring at him while he helped my grandmother pull the turkey from the roasting pan.  he fits perfectly in so many ways.  i’m thankful for the fit.  



November 27, 2007

during my childhood (and part of my early adulthood), the end of the Thanksgiving meal signaled the start of Christmas.  once the dishes were cleared, the turkey carcass stripped bare and divvied out into doggie bags and the pie plates distributed, talk would turn to what everyone wanted for Christmas.  in the beginning i think this was a way for the older folks in my family to occupy the little ones while they continued drinking too much wine and stretching their stomachs in anticipation of a solid month of gluttony.  later it became tradition; so much so that my mother wouldn’t let anyone leave her house without a list of at least five Christmas wishes.  

i can remember my lists vividly and how they morphed over the years.  when i was very small i wished for the typical things – cabbage patch dolls, the latest board game with a million little parts to break or loose, a bike.  approaching the age of twelve my lists changed dramatically – electric shaver for my legs, diary with lock,  Salt-N-Pepa poster.  by sixteen i had no shame – bottle of andre’ cold duck, lava lamp, plane ticket to costa rica “so i can eat brown rice and pot and get the fuck away from YOU PEOPLE!”

since my mom died i’ve handled the “what do you want for christmas” question with varying degrees of disgust, apathy, guilt.  all those years wasted with concern over stuff.  and we were one of millions of families in the US who do the same fucking thing every year.  so greedy.  so, so greedy.

and if i’m going to feel so goddamn depressed about it all you’d think i would quit giving and accepting gifts.  fuck that noise.  i like stuff.  i like lots of stuff and plan on posting my list very soon.  i also like spending time with my friends and family.  if “the season” (read: an obligation to give gifts) gives me a reason to drive to miami to see my brother and other friends, so be it.  i will chase you down with my gifts and you will like it.  oh yes, you will.

so, if any of you out there in “series-of-tubes-land” have any ideas on how to give better or greener or more conscience centered gifts, i’ll gladly take your advice.  just keep in mind, i am not hipster-fantastic.  so sad.  i am not DIY.  single tear.



capital D – Difficult

November 19, 2007

i didn’t think it would be this hard.  i didn’t think depression would grip me.  i didn’t think i would be that woman – jealous of a job. 

m. D has been working like crazy.  ten hour days, that turn into twelve because of the commute, have left me feeling pitiful.

i don’t understand this feeling, the covetousness that comes when mr. D leaves on these long jobs.

part of my problem comes from the fact that these career moves always come at the last minute.  i’m stunned, rendered senseless by the shock of it.  you mean i have to go through the week without you?

and then, when he returns, my eagerness (neediness?) throws our time asunder.

it’s a childish reaction, i realize.  but what can i do to overcome it? 


Friday Fruits and Veggies: Thanksgiving!!!

November 17, 2007

I love Thanksgiving.  It is my favorite holiday by far.  No gifts, no baskets, no staying up until midnight. 

Just food. 


This week’s co-op basket has some Thanksgiving gems:

Garnet Sweet Potatoes
Red Onions
Grannie Smith Apples

Aww Yeahh!  It’s Thanksgiving alright.  Cranberry bread is on the to-do list for tonight if I can keep my eyes open.  If I have a few berries left over I’ll throw them into an apple crisp.

Here’s my cranberry bread recipe:


Juice and grated peel of 1 orange
Boiling water
2 tablespoons butter
1 cup sugar
1 egg
1 cup chopped fresh cranberries (i find throwing them in a zip bag and smashing them with a bottle of wine or other blunt instrument works best to get them started)
1/2 cup chopped walnuts (use the same bludgeoning technique as above)
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda


Preheat the over to 325` and butter one standard loaf pan or two small loaf pans. I prefer doing a few small loaves.

Put orange juice in a 1 cup measure. Add enough boiling water to the orange juice to make 3/4 cup. Add grated orange peel and butter to juice and water and stir until the butter is melted. Set this aside.

In a mixing bowl, beat the sugar and egg together with a whisk. Add the orange mixture and stir until blended. Add cranberries and walnuts to the bowl.

Sift together flour, salt, baking powder and baking soda. If you are lacking a sifter simply fluff the dry ingredients with a fork or whisk until the mixture gets a bit lighter in volume. Stir the dry mixture into the wet mixture.

Pour the batter into the greased pans and bake for between 40 and 60 minutes. I know, there are lots of minutes between 40 and 60 but you should check the loaves at 40 minutes by inserting a toothpick in the center to check for doneness, and keep checking every 10 minutes until they’re done.

Good luck!


whitman mashup

November 13, 2007

Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat,
Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not even the best,
Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice

short sleepy breaths rise over the covers
adorned by a soft dream
remembrances of you

I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning,
How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn’d over upon me,
And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart,
And reach’d till you felt my beard, and reach’d till you held my feet

the nape of your neck
curving down to your back
a flicked tongue sets your sacrum a blaze
you awake to an explosion
steel laced with gossamer

Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass all the argument of the earth,
And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own,
And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own,
And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers,
And that a kelson of the creation is love,
And limitless are leaves stiff or drooping in the fields,
And brown ants in the little wells beneath them,
And mossy scabs of the worm fenced heap’d stones, elder, mullein and poke-weed

this is love
this is love
this is love
you scream from your slumber
and dream turns to reality
and we are home


foot in mouth

November 9, 2007

i’ve gone and done it.  i said something that’s upset mr. d.  the problem is i’m not sure how to fix it.  he’s too busy to talk to me.

i have a vague idea of what might be going on.

this morning, as i was still climbing out of bed, he was dressed for work and went over to his mom’s place.  this isn’t terribly unusual, she does live two doors down, but i knew he had to be to work early today so i wondered what the motivation was.

he arrived back home as i was finishing letting the puppy out to do her thing.  he watched me cross the yard from the open back door.  i could tell immediately something was wrong.  his long face gave him away.

“what’s wrong,” i say, “is your mom okay?”

“yeah,” he says quietly.

“so, what did you do over there?  just say hey?”

“yeah,” he says, looking down, “and to weigh myself.”

ah ha. 

ever since going on the detox he has been obsessively weighing himself on his mom’s scale. 

now i, knowing this is an issue for him, instead of being super sensitive, say, “all that chips and salsa you had yesterday didn’t help, i’m sure.”

nerrrrrrr!  X-X-X!!  wrong answer!!

i back peddle and quickly add, “you’ve already lost five pounds, honey. that’s super.   did you put any back on?”

“no”, from him followed by some low-tone yelling about drastically changing his eating habits and not seeing results.

then some stuff from me about how proud he should be and maybe there is more that he could do but that he’s not thought of yet.

and then he says, “i don’t think eating chips and salsa is the problem!”

and i’m saying to myself, don’tdoitdon’tdoitdon’tdoit!!  don’t say what you want to say.  filter.  FILTER FOR CHRIS’SAKE!

“you just won’t take any constructive criticism, will you?”



tattoo part deux

November 9, 2007

it’s still healing, and peeling and itching.  be gentle.