Unfinished Blog Post

(I fell asleep before finishing this post. Make up your own ending)

My town is alive with Superbowl visitors. I was driving down the freeway yesterday when a convoy of super-semi's passed by. I was curious as they were big and shiny and at closer look, all boasting the logo "CBS SPORTS". Ahhhhhh the media is in town. As the Superbowl is being held 12 miles from my house, I am feeling left out not to have a ticket. I too, will have to live vicariously through my TV. But when you're watching the game this weekend folks, I just want you to know, that's my hood!

Much to your delight, I am not going to go off on a political tangent tonight, although my brain is alive with opinion. But the Fact that John Edwards threw in the towel today delights me and I wonder who he will now endorse with his 56 delegates to offer. This is the most interesting presidential campaign of our era, for sure. I will offer my own endorsement in the next few posts, as if to influence my 4 readers.

Have you ever gone to bed for the night before the sun went down? Well me either, but I think I am going to break a trend. In a recent effort to streamline frivolous payroll, I have been parking my sweet ass on the assembly line for the last 2 days doing some hard core labor. A humbling experience to say the least. I used to do this job, if you can remember. But I have apparently become so all and mighty that it was below me to shove in light pipes for hours on end. In an effort to get back to basics, I have done just that. I can honestly say my Popeye arm has earned it's spinach and my sweet ass is exhausted. Good Lord! I am a F'ing slave driver. How do these people do it? Yesterday I felt vindicated for my efforts, but could not sleep all night. Round 2 AM I relinquished and turned on Coast to Coast, deciding I could find sleep til 9ish and make up for lost REM. 4:12 AM my phone deliverers a text message from Tim stating they are ready for delivery and the sooner the better. I was on the road by 4:58, which was not a bad thing! Traffic was manageable at that hour and speed no problem. I ran on adrenaline all day completing some 300 units before crew of Emo and Michel arrived at 12PM to mop up the rest of today's production.

Guilty

I missed soccer practice on Saturday. It was not lost on Emma.

Sorry baby. I love you.

Daily Guru

It's simply a made to order Sunday. Dark and gloomy with steady rain falling, my fat Sunday newspaper waiting to be devoured and a dog on the mend snoring on the couch beside me. For those that have tentatively inquired, he is still with me. Nigella is cooking on TV dripping in British sex appeal. My legal pad and constant companion is full of "to do's" and "must buys", taunting me. I am trying to figure out how much of it I can put off to spend a truly decadent day doing nothing. I do need to get new drill bits for tomorrow's work, but can probably do that before or after my morning drive to Tempe. But I am out of milk and will not be able to survive without it, so it's looks as if I am going to have to take a shower after all.

Later...... the sun is setting but who would know? It hasn't come out all day much to my dismal delight. Phoenix has not had good rain for 2 years. Today qualified as good. I was out yesterday to do some hiking at Lake Pleasant. I am privileged to live within a 10 minutes drive to this man made lake in the middle of nowhere. I was struck by how green everything was. I do not ever remember the desert being this beautiful. It's generally drab sand grey dotted with saguaros, except for the rare blooming season when it is indeed a sight to behold. But I was amazed how the floor of the desert resembled rambling moss beneath the feet of the cactus residents affording them more respect than usual. With today's downpour, we are assured an amazing blooming springtime show and I can assure you, it will all be chronicled here. Another reason to stay tuned besides, of course my incredibly interesting life that you can't get enough of. I'm speaking to you Safari.

(Sorry to bore the general public with inuendos) For the inside track, just email me and I'll fill ya in.

I can honestly and without shame, say that I took off yesterday's pajamas to put on tonight's. No clothes or shower in between. At least I changed! My newspaper is on the floor and I slipped on the glossy coupon inserts on my way to the bathroom damning their thrifty presence. The dishes in my sink, four days old are in the same water I left them in on Wednesday when I intended to wash them. The stench provoked me to toss in a chlorine tab from the pool stash to buy time. I'll get to it.

Don't judge me. I'm single, who cares.

This has been my favorite Sunday - ever, but I'm still out of milk.

Wasted Day

In an attempt to Pimp my Blog I have spent my entire Sunday, so far, blog hopping trying to get inspiration from other writers. I am not looking for things to plagiarize, but rather tools and tricks from more advanced bloggers, and maybe even a widget or two. Notice my recently added signature?? Stole that idea from Andrew, thank you very much. And so I feel compelled to give him a shout out:

4th Avenue Blues
Inspired by C.A's blog chatting about the things she loves which seemed to be a rebuttal of her previous post about things she hates, I thought I would make my own list. I'm trying to be the glass half full girl too, so here goes:

Things that Don't SUCK!

1) Rain
2) Chocolate Raspberry Mousse that I hoarded
3) An afternoon at Barnes and Noble
4) Alimony
5) 100 Grand Candy Bars
6) Segways
7) Text Messages that catch me off guard
8) A.J's
9) Oregon pinot noirs

10) Wine in a box (this should be #1)

That was quickly the first things that came to my mind, no matter how stupid and offensive. Tells you a bit about how my mind works. If I did offend anyone, then so be it.

Have anything to add??

Positive Stimulus

The proposed economic stimulus is probably to little, to late to correct this economy. And, as it's being spent with borrowed money from China, it's just another American debt forcing this country to it's knees. The good news is, it's an election year! I had an enlightened conversation tonight with Professor Moriarity who made me think twice. I was lamenting the woes of current politics and such before we got on to a long suffering conversation of the real estate market. She gently reminded me of something that I already preach. The power of positive thinking. Everyone is agonizing about the downturn in the market and it's this way because everyone is agonizing about it. If and when the collective thoughts turn positive, so will the real estate market and our economy in general. We have been eight long years into the Bush administration and even he is getting sick of it. We are ready for new. This election will be a political "New Year". We are all going to feel the fresh air of a new regime and bask in the resolutions. It may be short lived but just the kick in the ass this country needs to turn things around. It's not a $600 check that's going to have any affect on anything, but a feeling of hope of change that just might make all the difference.

The Decision

I just snuck out to the patio for a fresh cigar that I bought at the corner humidor today. I love going in to this shop. It's tiny and dank but feels so comfortable. The entire shop is a humidor so when I walk in the atmosphere hits me in the face. Heavy air keeping the bounty of cigars that line the walls fresh. I have become quite friendly with the shopkeeper, Marnie who recognizes me by my Coach bag that she envies. Every week when I come in for my 3 cigars she acknowledges it and then me. I understand her reverence as I too adore it. Marnie knows what I like and sets out picking 3 cigars for me, not to stout, always flavored and slim enough to be feminine but big enough for a hearty smoke when I sit down to write. Today was a typical visit. I'm testing her selection tonight of a rum flavored "Sweet Daddy" brand. I can recommend it. I "snuck out" from tending to my terminally ill dog that is showing signs of giving up. After work I babied him and talked to him trying to offer some comfort. He's in pain now and his eyes are pleading with me for relief. He's in a morphine induce sleep on my bedroom floor that I covered with a down comforter. As much as I love his vet and her compassion, I realize that it's in her best financial interest to keep offering treatments, and so she does. But I am going to have to dig deep and do the right thing on his behalf. I'll have to take solice in the fact that I will make the right decision for Paws. The further shattering of my already broken heart might just be more than I can bear.

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food and water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable. All the animals who have been ill and old are restored to health and vigour, those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing: they miss someone very special to them who had to be left behind. They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance.
The bright eyes are intent; the eager body quivers. Suddenly it begins to break away from the group, flying over the green grass, strong legs carrying him faster and faster. YOU have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face, your hands caress the beloved head and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart. Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together.

On a Political Rant

This election year has an interesting flavor in that, we all hope for a Democratic outcome to get back to the unrealistic changes that they will make to mask the current malady of a soft economy, war and the downward slide that is this US. However our choices are a women and a black man. Not that I discount either for their minority, but how did this happen?? We have never had either run for office, and at this critical juncture, this is not the time for this. And so the Democratic vote in and of itself is it's own minority. And as if in self destruction mode, the traditional Democratic Party coalition is falling apart, as can be witnessed in recent media.
It's enough of a fact that we think the outcome is even in our own hands as we go to the polls. As it is in every facet of life, money and power are in control. We are ultimately a corrupt society, relying on the greasing of palms to buy whatever you need. And so is politics though on a bigger scale. The stakes are high in this game.

So Mr. American, no matter how hard you want to believe that your vote counts, it is all played out in the background despite your voted chad. But don't let that deter you. It's principal if nothing else. Take this current demise as your own responsibility. We are the people and have a big voice if only we would get off our cell phones and out of our small worlds to voice an opinion and effect change, change would come. Until we become strong enough for that, we remain at the mercy of this Government.

Stand Up.

If I had a Hammer

The weekend melts away tonight with total satisfaction of accomplishment, friends, good food a Sunday night cigar and a feeling of appreciation for it all. We did not work Saturday, as usual. Instead, we spent the day on a construction crew with Habitat For Humanity building a house. I didn't know what to expect from the day as I got up at 5 AM to get ready. I packed the truck for a long day and walked Paws in the dark, despite the coyote crew that were howling on the corner. I had instructed the boys that I was leaving at 7 AM sharp whether they were there or not. My crew is not known for being on time and less than responsible with early hours, especially on a Saturday. Much to my delight, Mike and Emo arrived ahead of schedule and devoured donuts and milk in the truck while we waited for the others. The Kent boys arrived just 30 seconds before I was ready to go and we were off, the 5 of us, driving south with sunrise just beginning. We arrived at the jobsite where throngs of volunteers were checking in and shivering in the cold. Our assignment was the Selgado house and the wall raising, Whatever that meant. Turns out, it meant building the walls from 2X4's with hammers and nails. We donned aprons and hammers and got to work. For the first hour the sound of 34 hammers pounding in spikes was deafening music. As the last nail was in place the foreman orchestrated raising the first wall built which was a cooperative effort of every person picking it up and bolting it into position. The recipient of the home was in tears as she watched her house being constructed. There was immense satisfaction in that moment. And then we had 3 more to build, and so it got down to hard work. For me, a woman that could not hang a picture last week, to have participated in building a house was ineffable.

Fry-Day

After 5 days with a migraine I woke up as myself again this morning. It was nice to be back but I can credit that headache for some wasted time that I don't regret and great pampering by beloved Mel, whom I could not live without. Sometimes it's nice just to give in.

I started the day before the day even started with great intentions of conquering my work in lieu of the fact that the Overflow crew is taking Saturday off to go build a house for our community service project. My hopes were dashed when Tim called to say there were no plastics drilled so my work would not be ready until late afternoon. I just restructured my thinking and called Nikki in to do paperwork, which she is genius at and has taken the pressure of the business side of my business completely off my back. Oh, and made sure she brought Emma.

Miss Emma arrived and we made a plan to head to the lake. It's been eons since we've had an outing with the ducks. She was so excited! Nikki was jealous and said she wanted to go feed ducks. We squashed that and told her to go to work. Someone has to keep Overflow flowing. Out the door with all of the necessary equipment including an apple and some "beauty". We got to our spot and all of our old friends were there, Brownie and Mr Fatty taking center stage chomping bagels right out of our hands. Emma, flirted with all of the golfers and posed for the camera, all the while dancing in the grass musing about ducks and chickens and planes.

Late afternoon I left C-tech with a sigh of relief. Love weekends and my lack of traveling to Tempe. With that Friday feeling in my soul I stopped off in Scottsdale on my way back to do a restaurant with Mel. So here is my review of the next place you won't want to eat at:

The Office Bar and Grille at Desert Ridge.

First of all, let me say, there is not one damn good restaurant in all of Desert Ridge which is to bad because it's so conveniently located, though impossible to exit. The engineering of this strip mall is quite pathetic and you have to know secret passages usually involving an illegal u-turn to get back to the freeway.

We entered a nearly empty restaurant, the majority of the patrons drinking at the bar, all 3 of them. Even the one eyed guy seemed at home here. It was a comfortable atmosphere I suppose, if you like big screen TV's placed around the hemisphere every 3 feet all broadcasting the same program, yet at different intervals which made me a little dizzy. Why this place is called The Office was enough to confuse me. The walls were replete with autographed basketballs and Baseball Jersey's and all sports memorabilia that may have been impressive if I knew anything about it. The bare beam ceilings were beautiful reminding me nothing of any office I had ever been in. And giant blackboards boasted happy hour specials of which the 6 people a few booths away were clearly taking advantage of.

Our menu ranged from "I'm confused" to "how greasy is that going to be". And we were not disappointed!

Mel's Chicken sandwich with avocado was mysteriously presented with a whole avocado plopped on top. Try to bite into that! I was happy with my mushroom burger that resembled manwich. It was greasy enough to be flavorable. Pawpaw agreed when I brought it home to him via doggie bag where it belonged. I have to say though, they know how to do apple, jicima salad! And that's impressive, because who ever heard of it?

Enough of this nonsense. I have a house to build tomorrow.

Goodnight Safari!

Emma's Ducks

PHOTO LINK

Emma and I spent some time at the lake today and have these great pictures to prove it.

Back to, Back

I want to introduce Suzi's blog formally because it's for a good cause and simultaneously, a good read: http://www.suziclimbs.blogspot.com/

I've known Suzi for 21 years and am proud of the woman she has become.

Sunday purports to be a beautiful day in the 70's. I love Sundays. It means a fat newspaper, A Joel O inspiration at 7:30 and some usual unnecessary shopping. Tomorrow might bring me a trip to the nursery as I have severe gardening fever and then a stop at AJ's for weekly provisions because I deserve the decadence. I used to love my gardens. They were the focal point of existence here. The bamboo that Phil insisted on planting and Emma's garden lining the entire length of the back windows as well as the bird house gourd vines that used to adorn the back wall were things of glory. I forgot about it all this past year when I got lost in change. I regret the way I let things go. But it's all coming back to me now. The hummingbird feeders are once again full in their red glory and I have a few constant visitors. I've raked tended and tilled until life is coming back to my living environment.

Feel alive, feel revived, I waited so long...............

Next Generation Soccer League

PHOTO LINK

Great Saturday. Emma is in her first soccer league and we all came to the park to support her. Michel picked me up at 8:30 this morning , screeching around the corner as he was late, to drive me to the event. It was 39 degrees when the day started and there was frost on the "golf". It warmed up pretty quickly. Denise and John were just arriving as we were. They too, got lost. Suzi came a few minutes later. Nikki and Jack were already in the moment. Emma's posse was in place. She was out on the field when we arrived warming up with daddy. When she looked up and saw all of her people on the sidelines, her face burst into that Emma smile. At the first 2 minute juice break she ran over to greet everyone, hugging me tight, tentatively kissing Mike as she has not seen him in awhile. But she's not shy. She loves people. We had a delightful time. The hour flew by. All of the crazy parents and grandparents had a paparazzi line of cameras, me included. These are the moments in life that stay forever. I had recollection of when Michel was so small and we watched his soccer games. He was in love with the coach's daughter in his first league. I think he was 7 or 8 when he started playing. Coach Yogi was their leader. He was bald and boisterous and made Saturday's something to look forward to. I can hardly fathom so much time gone by as we are now rooting on the next generation.

When we left the field, Michel was starving as he had not had breakfast. We drove through Surprise looking for a breakfast place, but the usual chain restaurants were all that was available. On the west side of Sun City there was a lone spot in the road with an obscure hotel in the middle of nowhere. I told Mike to slow down because if there was a hotel, there would be food. Sure enough, I spotted a sign on the front of a derelict building called The Desert Palms Diner. This was our breakfast spot. We entered what was nothing short of a highway greasy spoon type diner. Perfect! We were escorted to a mahogany booth and handed laminated menus. Our waitress. Flo, complete with glasses and red curly hairy bid us a good morning. We ordered $6 breakfast plates that would have fed a family. Huge portions of home cooked food arrived. We ate every bite, talked while schmering jelly from little disposable cups onto our toast. We had a lot to say. I see Michel every day at work but rarely get the one on one time with him anymore. We discussed issues, school, grades and credits. And then he opened up about his uncertainty of the future after graduation. I assured him that very few people know what they want to do with the rest of their lives after high school and gave him my support no matter his choice. He visibly relaxed and then we discussed possibilities. His and mine. We are both at the beginning of our next phase of life. It was comfortable camaraderie.

Baby's got Back Ribs

So I have already screwed up my new website and it was looking so good too. Til I can get it together again, I have to bore you with just one more recipe story here. Mel called late in the day to see if I wanted to go get a pizza at T. Santi's. I declined and he hung up on me. Man's got a bad attitude. I'm sure he went off to badmouth me to his new gal, CindiAnn. Little does he yet fathom, I am a cook, so I have this dinner thing under control. I had an entire rack of baby back ribs and onion rings freshly fried in less than 30 minutes. And I was not about to share..........

Forget all that, OK now I'm pissed. Mel thinking he is such a comedian, and he is not, has just soiled my reputation on his blog with a bunch of fiction writing that he thinks is funny. I am so glad I didn't feed him tonight and I hope he ate peanut butter. We all know he is out of olive oil and now begging unsuspecting women for their share. Including my daughter! If you tell one more person I am your girlfriend I will never speak to you again. Go ahead, erase this....... So glad I changed my password, you shit.

Baby has Back Ribs sans Mel.

Rack of BB pork ribs - buy them on sale

In a shallow pan, add the rack with water 1/2 way up the pan and 2 cups of white vinegar. Bake on 200 degrees for 4-5 hours covered in foil.

At this point, you can pop them in the fridge for another day. When you are ready to BBQ them, drop them on a hot grill and slather with sauce. Flip repeatedly so the sauce sears into the flesh. The ribs are already cooked so the BBQ time is just to warm them and make the sauce saucey 5-6 minutes is sufficient.

Best ribs Mel has never eaten.

Lettin Go

Despite the recent rain, I found enough dry wood to have a roaring fire to sit beside tonight. My angst of last evening has been dispersed by a productive day. I dealt with the work grief by plastering on a smile and good attitude when I arrived in Tempe this morning. All was humming at Overflow today. Nik, Zach and Emo came in to complete some 600 housings. That is satisfying at days end. Crew did the work while I got caught up on details that have been on the to do list. One of our details is to get involved with a charitable organization as a group. At our meeting last week we decided on Habitat for Humanity for our chosen cause, as Tyler seemed to be passionate about this charity. I did all the leg work and completed our application. We got our acceptance package today and we begin work a week from Saturday on a 3 bedroom house for the Salgado family in Peoria, starting with the ground breaking ceremony and raising of the walls on that day. The volunteer coordinator told me that this is always an emotional thing as the chosen family will be there as the house is dedicated. We will be a part of building a house from start to finish. I'm really excited about this. I think the experience will take my younger employees out of their electronic worlds and give them something passionate to be a part of. And I, who can't hang a picture gracefully will be learning drywall, hammering nails, painting, digging ditches just getting dirty for a good cause. I have complained about my "full plate" and I am aware that I am adding yet another obligation, but it's an obligation to self that will be good for my soul.

http://www.hfhwv.org/

I met with my editor for the food section of the Az Republic. It's going to be more of a struggle to get established than I hoped, as I have to prove my skills. But I'm in on the ground floor. My first piece will be published as soon as they get my head shot, next week I am told. After that, I am in competition with 2 other writers for the upcoming column. They are both men so I hope I have the emotional edge to out write them. Whatever happens, I will still have a position to write in some capacity and free food in my future. She likes my work and I am confidant. I'll have to look to my blog audience to post letters to the editor as my stuff begins to appear in print. PLEASE??

I ended the day in a flurry of gardening, something I have dearly missed. I planted my Christmas tree, cleaned the pool, tilled up my newly started compost heap with inspiration from Nikki and replaced a dead vine with new. I am determined to replace all of the vines around the pool fence to shelter me from Roxanne's prying eyes from next door. Love Roxanne but she is so judgemental of my cigar smoking, wine drinking ways that I would prefer to have a privacy vine to shield myself from her uptight scrutiny. Though I know I am not going to be living here in some near future, I am determined to get back to loving my space while I am still in it. I adamantly believe people leave an imprint on the walls they inhabit. I know we've left enough laughter and love in these walls, but I am also acutely aware that our divorce was etched in the collective memories. The sorrow and following horrific year can be effectively erased if I can let it go while I'm still here. I have to be willing to let go of the life I planned, so as to accept the life that is waiting for me.

Someone's going to love living here, as much as I did.

Arghhh

Work and the details thereof are insignificant in the grand scheme that is life. But I am once again frustrated with the people of C.Tech. We never fail them. They on the other hand make our partnership so difficult. Dropped details continue to frustrate me. Today was no exception.

I'm juggling the balls I have in the air right now and something is going to have to take priority.

My quandary lies in that I have to pursue my writing job because it's my passion but pays next to nothing. Whereas my manufacturing job is paying the bills. So do I accommodate them to forsake other obligations? I raised the bar high. It's up to me to roll with the punches, though I feel my confidance slipping away.

I'll just dig a little deeper.

TTYL

I just learned the fine art of Text messaging this past year out of necessity. Text messaging has replaced Western Union the Telegram and

speaking.

I go off on this tangent tonight because I just received a 4 page text message that made me wonder how long it took the sender to type. Are we so disconnected from each other that we prefer our machines to do the talking for us? Needless to say, I returned that text by phone call. My reply would have taken til midnight otherwise. Has phoning or email become outdated and quaint? Or am I so old that I am even questioning it?

On December 3, 1992, the world’s first text message was sent with the words "Merry Christmas," from a PC to a wireless phone. Today it sends everything from personal notes to detailed grocery lists using just the numbers on a cell phone's keypad. And I wonder, has this become a new way of cheating? Phone calls are so obvious, but you can sit at dinner with your wife and communicate with that sweet thing you have your eye on just by typing. God forbid you get caught. You can just pull a "Bill" and claim, "I did not have textual relations with that woman".

I'm sure it has it's use, much as the pagers did in the 80's. But people seem to be taking this form of communication to another level. Rather than for convenience of sending a necessary message, it is used as primary communication. This makes me wonder if the fact that we are now talking with our fingers is a new step in human evolution. Is technology so in charge here that personal contact will become completely lost? Will we eventually just stop talking altogether?

I am still riding the euphoric high of my job offer. Friends have flooded me with congratulations and offers to be my dinner companions as I can invite up to 3 guests per visit. Hmmmm just takes a little clout in the world of free food at four star restaurants to become popular I suppose. I rushed to the spa to have my hair done for the necessary "head shot". Johnny N was my stylist today. We met and he did my consultation. I told him why I was there and without warning he announced to the entire room, "hey, she is a food critic"! I became a mini celebrity as everyone was interested and wanted to know how I got the job and how they could get one and if nothing else, did I need a dinner companion?

Johnny suggested some radical changes to my hair to which I shot down. I asked for a conservative cut and to refresh my color. He put away the red streak samples and brought out the old lady boring colors. I've been growing my hair long for the last 6 months and told him to keep the length and volume, just tidy me up. He brought out a pile of tin foil and started his art. I let him go. He colored for over an hour and then out came his shears. So much for my long hair. It is gone. All of it. He was like Edward Scissorhands, locks were flying furiously. There was no stopping the massacre. He had a vision. Little did I know it was bald. At least I am tidy for my photo shoot. My hair may be deflated, but not my enthusiasm.

Write on!

If there is one thing I am always inspired to write about, it is food. Being a member of the Arizona Writer's Association (most of us unpublished wannabe's), I get newsletters about book signings, workshops and available assignments etc. Last week there was a small little blurb from The Arizona Republic about their upcoming need for a food critic in the weekly column called, "Big Mouth". It entails the same kind of stuff I have been doing with Mel, visiting restaurants around town and writing a review. I inquired and was given a link to their audition site. I was intimidated by the length of writing I had to do and the number of essays on different topics they required. I spent 12 hours New Years day completing the damn thing. By the time I was done I didn't care if I had even written a word of sense. I hit the send button with a small prayer and put it out of my immediate thoughts. I was elated to have completed the audition at all.

I GOT THE JOB! I GOT THE JOB!

I found out today, I was chosen to write a weekly column in the Wed food section of the newspaper! Seems ominous and awesome all at the same time. Needless to say, I am elated. However, they want a "head shot" to publish with my column before the end of next week. YIKES. That's going to be a bit of an effort to get a decent picture for the world to see. OK.... the handful of people that actually read the food section, but hey, it's a start!!

Pass the peas

The legend of eating black eyed peas on New Years day is a tradition from the south. It's said that the eye of the pea is looking into the future and so the consumer has foresight. Another custom states eating them shows humility. Some say you have to eat 365 peas on New Years day, one for every day of the years to ensure luck. There are various recipes and names associated with this bean. "Hoppin' John" and "Cowboy Caviar" amongst them. This tradition has gained popularity over the past few years, due to the Internet I suppose since information, no matter how useless, is easily exchanged. Hell just Google it. Everything you didn't want to know can be found at your fingertips and being alumni of Google U, I am full of such worthless wisdom.

If you went to any grocery store today there were displays of prominently placed peas, much to my chagrin. The black eyed pea tradition came to me a few years ago. It is said that to eat these damn peas on New Years day will bring luck and wealth. I am always looking for an edge so I took it seriously. Last year, New Years day 07 was the first year I proactively cooked a pot O' peas, expecting my due luck. What I got was unprecedented collapse of my world. Was it luck? That is yet to be seen. I can tell you that today, I did not cook any black eyed peas. I have no idea what my future holds but there is something delicious in the oblivion.

Bon Apetite'

Grammar's Guardian

Here's how my year started;

10AM, I was given a short grammar lesson by my editor. I was minding my own business working on my latest restaurant review in between the "black eyed peas" post and more importantly, trying to finish my audition for the "food reviewer" job at AZ.central.com when he called to interrupt. Like a good pupil I tell him I am writing and so he launches into today's tirade. He is perturbed by the sudden improper usage around the bloggasphere of "Articles" in speech, ie: a; an, used to introduce a noun. According to him most folks are making grossly improper introductions and it's really grating on his nerves. He makes me nervous. I hate when he reads ANYTHING I have written, including my grocery list. So what if I needed a apple? I take his advice with an grain of salt and hang up on him. As if grammar is my lesson of the day, I stumble on a article by the Associated Press listing words to ban from your vocabulary. I will not be accused of being grammatically incorrect in 2008 so here is the list of words that will not appear in any of my writings this year.

2008's List of `banned' Words and phrases By Lake Superior State University's

_ perfect storm
_ Webinar
_ waterboarding
_ organic
_ wordsmith/wordsmithing
_ author/authored
_ post 9/11
_ surge
_ give back
_ `blank' is the new `blank'
_ Black Friday
_ back in the day
_ random
_ sweet
_ decimate
_ emotional
_ pop
_ It is what it is
_ under the bus

Organic? Really? I am happy to be able to "give back" to my audience. You can now consider yourself in the know.

Sweet................