Archive for January, 2007

look Ma, I’m evolving

So the kiddo celebrates a birthday this week. Her fourth. She has very specific ideas regarding how she wants to celebrate this one. Though I’d suggested an ice cream cake, the kiddo insists it will be a yellow cake, with yellow frosting. And blue candles. Surrounded with plenty of balloons. And hats. Her one gift request has had me in a bit of a tizzy. It’s this:

A bulbasaur. From Pokemon. A series that I find unwatchable, with it’s bad animation and drawing quality chief among my complaints. However, I am amused to notice that the kiddo’s favorite pokemon, the one she loves to imitate every day, has a neat little trick. It “evolves”…the bud on its back blooms into two other stages,flowering and giving it power to manipulate nature, evidently. And this is what the kiddo loves to imitate in her play…”evolving”. She’ll poke me several times a day, drop to the ground or flop on the bed, and announce “I’m evolving”, while her body quivers and shakes in imaginary transformation. Which is rather Aquarian of her.

Since this line of toys is retired and Bulbasaur is apparently still a highly sought out collectible, it’s been a bitch to obtain. I turned to Ebay, natch. It’s not terribly expensive, however, I’m not used to competition in the bidding process. I’ve been through five auctions and have been beaten out four times before finally winning the prize. Oh well.

I stayed up last night doing something I don’t usually do: watched the Tonight Show with Jay Leno. I was up with a project and noticed that Diane Keaton was on. With pictures of her adorable fat dog, whom she’d run over once accidently in her driveway. Miraculously, he’d emerged unscathed because his fat protected his bones from breaking.

Every time I see Diane Keaton, I’m struck by how much my sister T resembles her, both physically and in demeanor. I’d never thought of T. that way until I’d seen Keaton in Something’s Gotta Give ( unfortunately, I didn’t care for the film, which was rare for me and a Keaton flick). Then it all unfolded in front of me. The flittering conversation where the subject changes like shifting bird flight patterns. The airy hand gesticulations. And the girlish embarrassment. Definitely a T. trait. T’s always, always been that way…even through an excruciatingly heavy and emotionally wrought childhood; even with a demanding job and four children…T. can still be described as lightness in every way. I have never possessed that lightness. I carry everything. I was sullen girl from the cradle. If I had friends, T. made them first. Then I’d come around and kind of…approve and hang out on the fringe, feigning disinterest in anything unless I was in charge.

I don’t know where I’m going with this, except that it’s good to be T, who I know is blushing, then sheepishly grinning and looking away while she’s reading this. Aren’t you, T?


I’m in love

and that’s why I’ve been neglectful here. I finally jumped on the Netflix train. Every night, a new fling. Finally, I get to commune with elusive flicks I’d persued hopelessly for years, like the Francis Bacon biopic Love is the Devil, the Andy Goldsworthy documentary Rivers and Tides, the silent masterpiece The Passion of Joan of Arc, and countless foreign and concert films not found even in my library system. And I don’t even have to leave the house. They come to me. Excellent.

I saw Jesus Camp the other night. There’s alot that one could say about this, and then not. Because most of what they are doing is what this country was built on, as far as freedom as religion goes. Whether I agree with it, or not. I’d just like to see a religious movement that doesn’t instill fear and hate as the driving force behind desired change.

But I haven’t just been lounging around with my movies and bonbons, no. The kiddo and I have been hard at work on some mixed media collages and assemblages. And I’ve been crocheting along in front of the tv while watching my flicks. I found this cool book by the Stitch N Bitch Nation Author, Deb Stoller, titled….The Happy Hooker. You know when you pick up a title like that that you’re not going to be making toilet roll covers and tea cozies. I found the niftiest corset belt in there and want one in every color I can get my hands on.

I kind of hesitate to tell people I crochet because of those visions of tacky afghans and kleenex box covers. I actually used to knit before it was trendy. Right about when it became trendy, I got nasty carpal tunnel symptoms which coincided with arrival of the kiddo. I love the sculptural relief work of Aran knitting, with the twisting cables and bobbles. It was fun. But once you get past the typical dustcatchers that give crochet a bad name (what is it with crocheters and the need to cover everything in the house with it????), crochet is actually very feminine, very sexy.

So, toodle-oo, just wanted to let y’all know I’m still around. I’m off to an Ebay auction. More on that later.

Have a nice day.


I love it when my t-shirt is sprinkled with paint after a long day of making art. First assistant kiddo is having a ball.

cook’s meme

The kiddo and I have some peanutbutter and jelly bars from one of Ina Garten’s cookbook baking. I thought I’d do this cooking meme. Anyone who knows me well knows that cooking is a huge part of my life. I kind of wonder about people who don’t like to cook…do they even like food? Or is it the demands on time that gets them? Oh well, I do enjoy feeding them.

What cooking shows do you watch?
I don’t have time to watch any more, but I used to like The Barefoot Contessa and Alton Brown’s Good Eats.

Your top three favorite cookbooks are:
Jane Brody’s Good Food, Ina Garten’s At Home, and an old Farm Journal cookbook from the ’40’s.
Your must-have kitchen accessory is:
A good knife.

What is your go-to ingredient?
Homemade chicken stock.

How many courses should a meal have?
About 3 or 4. More for a holiday of course.

What’s your favorite course?
Probably the main course. Salads too. I make awesome salads.

What nationality of food do you like the best?

What’s your favorite meal of the day to prepare?
Dinner, definitely.

Where do you find inspiration when creating a new dish?
Sometimes cookbooks or magazines, especially with good food porn. Though I rely alot on the internet because I like to read the reviews and tweaks of other cooks, which is something you don’t get in print.

What is your favorite comfort food?
baked mac and cheese.

Do you ever eat fast food? If so, what?
Subs, or, as they’re called here, grinders.

What restaurant do you want to eat at that you haven’t yet?
I like to eat in. But any new Thai or Indian restaurant, I’m up for.

What’s your favorite dessert?
Pecan pie a la mode.

Are there wines or liquors that you cook with?
Red and white wine. I love reduction sauces.

How much time do you spend cooking a
meal just for yourself?

15 minutes, tops.

What scent in the kitchen do you love –
what ingredient smells the best?

onions frying. Cinnamon baking. Homemade bread.
What ingredient(s) do you avoid/dislike?
organ meats. seafood. licorice or anise. snails or any other squishy meat.
What’s your secret splurge at the grocery store?
organic meat.

What’s your favorite midnight snack?
toasted cheese sandwich with tomato.

an amusing mail art project

Rick did the nasty on his roomie Alex’s bed while Alex was away. Rick is sorry. And shy. So, he circulated 200 postage paid postcards around and asked friends to do it for him and send it to Alex.

but, but… my mama told me I’d better shop around…

Fathers. Virginity. Purity Balls. Signed covenants and wedding cake for dessert for chrissake. I’m off to hurl. “Mama” was soooo right.

Ali & me

I’ve been admiring these photos of Ali’s earlier matches at Sports Illustrated for a week or so. People who know me are often surprised to know that I’m a boxing fan. Though I don’t watch as much as I used to, I loved to sit with my father and watch the matches, especially Ali’s, one of my childhood idols. There was always the bravado, of course, but what I admired most was The Butterfly’s elegance as a boxer in a sport that was so violent. Later I would think of him whenever I watched a Scorcese movie. Same thing. Elegant. Precisioned. Raw.

I never dated in high school. I wasn’t allowed. And dear Mom had eyes in the back of her head and knew everybody in town. So this was one of few of her rules that I actually complied with. However, I did have a lengthy crush on a beautiful blue eyed boy named Randall when I was sixteen. And I wrote for the school newspaper. To my complete and utter surprise, Randall, though a stoner, was a boxer and had a Golden Gloves exhibition match at the school. Of course I volunteered to cover it. Randall’s was the last bout of the night. Heavyweight. His was the only match where blood was left in the ring. His father, this tiny little man, was so proud. It was the height of my attraction for Randall, who won the fight, btw. And this was my best story for the paper then.

It’s odd to have a peaceful nature and a love of blood sport (I will add here that this doesn’t include bullfighting…the bulls are not consenting contestants). There’s just some arenas in life…art, boxing, and others….that allow the raw side of human nature to leak out and express itself in compelling ways.

January 2007
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