They knew

This photo of Boris and Natasha was taken on Tuesday evening. All this week they have been trying to get as much quality time as possible. I figured they already knew and so was surprised by Boris' puzzled look as I left this morning, suitcase in hand. I assume that he will be throwing a rager in my absence and will not clean up after himself. This will be his payback for my not taking him with me on Monday night when I went to see Dave Chappelle (Fantastic show.) and for not sharing my snow crab legs later in the week.

It's back to Berkeley and the dogs for me. Although I was slightly freaked out to hear that cops had to shoot a mountain lion that was prowling the Gourmet Ghetto earlier this week -- a mere two blocks from my former home.

We're having a heatwave once more. Yesterday it was 90 while today is slightly cooler. Luckily it will continue to cool off over the weekend as it can be unbearably warm at Marin's home. I have also vowed that I will not lock myself out this time.

What will I be doing? Watching "Weeds" on Netflix instant viewing. I am currently in the middle of season three. I also have some reading to do. I am slowly but surely making my way through The Hour I First Believed. Just in case I want to switch things up, I also have with me the latest book from Meg Gardiner as well as that Anthony Bourdain book about which everyone has been talking.

I have also decided to get all kinds of crazy over the weekend. Normally when I watch Dumb and Dumber, I eat takeout and stuff that can be prepared in the microwave. This weekend I have brought along food that will require actual cooking. Actually I haven't been doing any actual cooking in quite some time unless you want to count boiling eggs. Which I'm not going to do this weekend because did you know that Trader Joe's now carries hard boiled eggs? And they're already peeled.

Finally I will also try my best to stay out of Beckett's as that always seems to lead to trouble. But I'll probably cross town to stop into see my BFF, The Commander.

Hope y'all have a great weekend. I know I am really looking forward to having four days off in a row.

Reality check

Anyone who knows me knows that I watch a lot of reality TV. My usual morning routine is to grab a glass of juice or a cup of tea and settle down in front of the TV. After I catch up on some of my stuff saved on the DVR, I usually watch the Style channel.

This morning I got treated to an episode of "Tacky House." If you've never seen it, it's a show on which a friend or relative turns someone in for their tacky decorating taste. The poor victim is tricked into thinking that they are actually going to be on a show called "My Awesome House." I'm surprised there is not more cursing on the show personally. And maybe some bitch slaps.

So there I was this morning enjoying some juice and the show. This morning a woman turned in her fiance and his sister for living in a castle somewhere in the Los Angeles area. I mean this place actually had a moat. As the show went on, I realized that I recognized the woman's voice and so did a little rewinding. Yes, the woman who had turned in the pair was indeed Lisa D'Amato who first appeared on "America's Next Top Model" and later on "Celebrity Rehab." I told y'all I watch a lot of reality TV.

The thing is that since I was looking at the mobile version of Wikipedia on my phone, the first thing I read were Lisa's stats. It seems we wear about the same size. OK. So sometimes I wear a smaller size. But then I looked at her measurements. Because you know since she's a model, it's really important that they share that information. And it confirmed what I know to be true now. I don't necessarily need to lose weight but I do need to firm some stuff up. Because if I firm it up, I'll lose those last pesky few inches. Now to just get motivated...

The keeper of secrets

The photos are of the appetizers as well as my main course ordered last night when I went out to dinner with my dad. Before I can discuss the food, I need to rewind some.

My father is an alcoholic. He stopped drinking when I was 18. Even though he went through rehab, he spent many years later as a "dry drunk." For those of you not familiar with the phrase, it means that while he stopped drinking, he continued his behavior. From the time that I was about 10 or so until I was 28 my relationship with my father was tenuous at best. The following ten years were fabulous; I had the dad I had always wanted, the dad that I remembered from when I was five. And then his siblings started to die as well as his wife and he eventually started drinking again. So in many ways my dad and I have returned to the relationship we had when I was 16 -- he writes a check and that is about all of our contact.

Yesterday I drove to Sacto to partake of the annual event that I have done since 1999 when I stopped working for my dad -- doing the books to make sure they are ready for the accountant for tax return preparation. After a few hours a took a break to go have a cigarette; my dad was already outside having a cigar at the time. After I lit up, he said that there was another reason why he had wanted me to come up for the weekend. And with those words, I knew what was coming next. My dad is getting married -- for the third time -- in October. My first reaction was to be happy for him. He doesn't do well on his own. Even though I had only met his fiance on two occasions -- one of which ended up with me not speaking to my mom for months -- I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

But when I was ready to get to work, there was a problem. My dad had been sitting at his desk and I in the chair across the desk. He eventually got up and excused himself so I could get to work. When I went behind his desk, thankfully I looked down -- and saw a noticeable wet spot on the seat. I blotted the spot with a nearby tissue and then held it up for a whiff and confirmed what I thought. (And some of y'all probably wonder why at times I carry so much baggage. On the outside it may seem like I have led a charmed life but really?) I switched out the chair and he asked me about it when he returned but I just gave him a look.

And I worked on trying to absorb the information about his impending marriage. And then I got to that check -- the one with her name on it. And then it all came back. I could have pulled the report to see about the activity for that "vendor" but I didn't. Because until last June the name meant nothing to me. But four, five years ago when I first saw it, I had no clue. They were supposed to be repayment for a loan but there was never a deposit that matched. One of the weird things in my family is that people think that they can expose me to random bits of information and that I will not be able to connect the dots. Hello. According to the tests I took in school, I have an IQ of 148. And I have social skills on top of that. Tonight I called my cousin who has always been an older sister to me. She told me that my father had been planning to divorce my stepmother for his current fiance but then my stepmother got sick. So yeah, my mother was right but we'll never tell her that.

So now you have the background. The food? Appetizers from the dinner that my dad had planned for the three of us. The third photo is my entree. I knew we were going out but until I heard about the engagement, I thought it would be just me and my dad.

We had time to kill before dinner. And this is when I went into my old role as the enabler. Before dinner, my dad and I killed a bottle of white wine at his house. And then I like a fool got in the car with him. On the way to the restaurant, the car drifted into the oncoming lane several times. This is why I stopped spending weekends with my dad when I was 12 or so. I got tired of worrying about whether I would live through the weekend.

So we got to the restaurant and he suggested to us -- me and his fiance -- that we order wine. Well, actually it seemed more like a conversation between that two of them. Thankfully the drive home was less eventful.

Today I had planned to hit the road home early. The drive home is about 95 miles. But once I was dressed, my dad informed me that we were going to breakfast. And so we went to her home. So that I could see her for the fourth time in my life. At the restaurant, they ordered Mimosas. I ordered coffee.

Here's the thing. I like the woman as a person. We could so be friends. She won't tell her age but I guess that she is about ten years older than I. But her age doesn't bother me so much. Her enabler/codependent behavior. I sat there today while she never questioned and in fact seemed to encourage my father's negative traits -- things that my stepmother and my mother never would have tolerated. And I thought to myself that I have to disconnect from this whole situation because in the end it will not be good. I have to save myself.

Then I tried calling the folks who I knew with whom I could be completely honest. Outside of here, those folks are few and far between. Part of the dysfunction is that you disavow the truth; I've always had a hard time with this part of the program. Yes, I can lie like a champ but at my core I believe in absolute honesty -- even if I need to be blunt. I knew that most family members would be ecstatic beyond belief. They would say that my concerns meant nothing. So first I called my estranged aunt by marriage. She told me that I need to talk to my dad. I said that I couldn't see how.

Then I called my cousin; she has always been my older sister. She confirmed my suspicions. She also told me that her mother had indeed had a chat with my dad about his drinking before she died last April. My cousin asked me if I had ever watched the show "Intervention." She said that I was the only person to whom my dad will listen. And talking to her, it came to me. I just have to tell him the truth. Continue down this path and you can no longer be a part of my life. I've done this before but it wasn't about his sobriety. My stance there has always been that he needs to make the decision on his own; just like no one could keep me alive except for me back when I was suicidal, no one else can make him stop drinking. But I want him to understand why I am walking away just like this time if I have to walk away from my mom, I will explain it to her. This will be something new. I have spent years walking away without explaining. I just never thought the explanation was necessary. I thought that if you were in the same moment with me that you would understand.

And so now I sit here with the realization that I am about to lose both of my parents. I will lose my mother to her obsession with my father's life and my unwillingness to become a part of the dynamic at this point in my life. And I will lose my father to his addiction once more. And knowing this, I am trying my best to hold it all together. But don't worry about me. I have loads of experience at being the adult and holding it all together. I mean I've been doing it since I was ten years old. I'm a seasoned pro at this shit.

Taking one for the team *

If you have been reading my stuff over the last couple of months, then you know that I have had a cacophony of thoughts colliding in my head -- because yes, my thoughts are quite loud. At least to me.

I awoke this morning and read the lovely item that Zoomie shared. And this collided with a something I heard during the "House" marathon yesterday. Thirteen was giving a patient a hard time. The woman responded with something along the line of, "We can aspire to many things but that doesn't mean that we get them." And for me that went hand-in-hand with the article that Zoomie shared. Sometimes we delay things because it's just not perfect yet.

Often I mention to friends things that I would like to do. But it doesn't fit into their schedule right at that moment. Next thing you know years have gone by because you're waiting for the planets to align for someone else. No more of that.

That's how I found myself heading over to Alameda today. I have sampled the fine goods from Hangar One in local bars but had somehow never made it to the distillery -- which is something like a 15 to 20 minute drive from home for me. Unforgivable.



The distillery sits on the old Alameda naval base and these are the views from the parking lot.


I timed my visit so that not only could I do the tasting but I could also go on the distillery tour as well. The tour was entertaining and informative -- and free. I went for their premium tasting -- 14 alcohols including absinthe. I now have several favorites including their Buddha's Hand vodka as well as their Kaffir Lime vodka. Both need no mixer whatsoever. But yeah, 14 alcohols and no food? Kind of rough.


But don't think that I forgot y'all. That's right. Another giveaway. Leave a comment here with your email address -- if I don't already have it -- and you are entered to win this lovely shaker set I picked up. The drawing will close at midnight on Friday. If you're a night owl like myself that means in the middle of what most folks would consider Thursday night. Or I'll just keep it for myself.

As for me? I'm going to see about putting some food in my stomach. And figuring out when I will be returning.

When I set out earlier today, I had titled this post something entirely different. Then after tasting the brandies, vodkas, liqueurs and absinthe, I knew that title was entirely wrong.

Braving the weather

Now I know that some of y'all in colder climates are saying to yourselves, "Weather? Those Californians are such wimps." Yes, we are. We like our temperate climate. But this is an El Nino year so I see lots of rain and cold in our immediate future. And lots of whining as a result. We are petulant privileged children. (Say that fast three times. I double dog dare you.)


But Friday evening was the start of Hanukkah. And me? I am down with any religious holiday that involves food. (Note to self -- Must research Hindu and Buddhist traditions for ones that involve food as well as I am only versed in the Christian, Jewish and Islamic ones.) So Friday I headed out into the awful rain to Berkeley. Saul's had a latke tent for the weekend. I cannot even begin to describe my love of latkes. OK. It is not as great as my love of blintzes but still.


This weekend was more about this inspiration though. When Maddie and Boy Toy were out here in August, we hit a couple of wineries and I joined their wine clubs. Imagine my surprise at the beginning of November when instead of my usual two bottles, I received this beauty. Yes, it is a magnum. And yes, in this photo it is completely empty. How? Well, I sent out an Evite and cooked up some food.


There was my usual goat cheese with fig and walnut tapenade to start the evening. The main was a salad, bread, moussaka and spinach lasagna (pictured). There were children running around laughing and playing. Adults were busy catching up on one another's lives. Jade said that she had watched Julie and Julia earlier in the day and it made her think of me. For me, it felt like home.


I awoke this morning a bit fuzzy around the edges. And then it hit me. They had eaten everything. There was no food left save the baklava even though they had put a pretty healthy dent in it as well. The remainder will be going to work with me tomorrow as I am sticking true to my weight loss goal. Because -- squeeee! -- I had lost another pound when I got on the scale this morning. I now weigh less than I did back in July. This is real and I can do it. And the fact that I'm doing it during the holiday season and at a time that I am vulnerable to using food as a crutch proves to me that I can do this anytime.

Today I also did a kind of hard thing. I went to meet my mother to go to the movies. I realized on the way there that I have not seen a movie in a theater in over two years. Scary. Five years ago I used to see at least 75 or so movies per year in a theater. With my DVD viewing, I easily watched 200 movies a year. I miss it. Maybe if and when I get my bonus check in January (Yes, my company is still giving those out.), I will rejoin the San Francisco Film Society. Because I do need to take my non-flabby self out to places and all.

I totally survived going to the movies with my mom. While she enjoyed Invictus, she did not like it as much as Blind Side. Me? I would have liked it more if she had not been reciting the poem throughout the movie but I knew it would happen. But how can you not love this?

"I am the master of my fate.
I am the captain of my soul."

It tied in beautifully with watching "Dollhouse" Friday night. Here's where I would put in the warning about plot spoilers and all but I suspect that at this point, I'm the only one watching. Echo met up with a previous engagement -- a guy who wanted her to be his dead wife. The guy had finally moved on in his life and was engaged but when he saw Echo, everything came back for him.

"I thought I was past this."

"You never get past it. It becomes a part of who you are."

So true. And me now? It's all about having a home that I can open up to others. And on days in which there is not a Save the Air warning, a fire in the fireplace. By the way, the screen came from my aunt's house. And so a little bit of her will always be with me. Because sometimes we need to see it. But I know that I carry a little bit of the four women I have lost in these last 15 months or so in me. I would not be who I am today if not for them. And I will never forget this. They taught me to cook, to set a pretty table, to be a gracious hostess, to find joy in being around other people's children. They also taught me that bad things happen but we are survivors and so we move on. It is how we react and not these things themselves that define who we are.


And Flufficat, Boris and Natasha would like to thank Teddy and Kiki for their Hanukkah gifts. As you can see, the blue fluffy thing was big hit. Of course after one hour, it no longer exists. Because my cats are all gangsta like that.

One day down

The other day David asked for photos of everyone's Thanksgiving table. Silly boy. When you're a solo diner, I suppose you could go through the bother of it all but to me it just made sense to make the plate of food and to plop down in front of the TV.

The food in a repeat of last year came from Poulet. No cooking necessary, just reheating. I was a bit disappointed that they were not offering green beans this year and instead had brussel sprouts. Even though I am not particularly thrilled with them, I ordered them anyway because one must have something green on one's plate. And I suppose that I could have cooked something else but really? What would be the point of ordering pre-prepared food if I actually had to cook? They weren't all that bad. Probably would have been better with more butter. But even on Thanksgiving, I was still logging the calories.

I said I was logging them. That doesn't mean that I was denying myself any kind of food. Notice the sea of gravy. Because it's all about the gravy. And the giblet madeira gravy from Poulet is so good that I could eat alone, straight from the container. But I didn't. Instead I let the turkey and stuffing swim in a sea of it. And their stuffing -- foccacia bread, chard and sage -- is the perfect place for it. The stuffing just absorbs that stuff. Not like the heavy cornbread dressing of my childhood -- which is still good but just doesn't seem to absorb the gravy in the same way. (Oh, and every time I think of the word "gravy," I hear Monk telling Natalie, "They make their own gravy.")

As for TV viewing, I haven't watched the Macy's parade since childhood. Actually I have stopped most parade viewing. Parades are like baseball -- much more enjoyable in person than on TV.

I did find lots of wonderful marathons as well. Universal has been showing "That's Life" most of the week -- because what's not to love about a show that includes Ellen Burstyn, Paul Sorvino, and Debi Mazur? And BBC America was running a marathon of "Don't Tell the Bride." Personally I think the show is kind of twisted. "Hi. We're going to give you lots of money for your wedding but only the groom can do the planning and he cannot have any contact with the bride until the wedding day." I'm sorry but most brides seem anxious enough without the added stress of not having any input into the wedding.


This morning I'll be having some of this with my tea. It's apple cranberry ginger with a streusel topping. Sounds like heaven to me. And more TV viewing. And perhaps some DVDs. And maybe some of the various unread books I have around here. And knitting. Because I don't head out for Black Friday as well. Too many people.

So no matter how you spent your Turkey Day, I hope it was wonderful. Mine was.

Storyteller

Tonight I watched the finals of "Top Chef Masters" and I was moved. The final chefs were given a final challenge of a four course meal.

1. Your first food memory.
2. The food that made you become a chef.
3. The opening of your first restaurant.
4. Your future.

And then Rick Bayless said that this was all "the story of your life on a plate."

This resonated with me on so many levels. I have been told for many years that I am a storyteller when it comes to words but could I do the same with food? Because although most of the time when I cook, I believe that I have put my heart and soul on a plate, I'm not sure if others realize that. And so I thought of the challenge in terms of what I would do. I don't have memories of the last two so I will have to imagine.

First food memory? My challenge would be in turning my first memory into a starter. My first food memory comes from helping my paternal grandmother bake. And over the years I have become a much different baker than she was. She measured everything exactly, leveling the spoons and cups. While I use measuring implements when baking, my measurements are still not exact. This might be why when I give recipes to others, they are not able to duplicate what I produce. I now read all the time how baking is an exact science. There is a narrow range of "fudge" room in there though. And somehow in my eyes, my heart I know just what this is. So my battle is how does one create a starter out of something that is usually sweet? Unless I go with some kind of savory bread like the ones I did a couple of years ago with the caramelized onions with blue cheese.

The next I like to think of as, "What made you love cooking?" My sophomore year of college, one of my roommates had a copy of a basic James Beard cookbook. She never used it but I read it often and tried out things. I think the turning point for me was poaching chicken in white wine with tarragon. Until this point, I had never heard of tarragon. And I was raised by Southerners. We just didn't poach stuff. And then I used the liquid to make a sauce. I combined this with another cookbook I picked up and used the meat and liquid to create crepes. Basically I read one recipe for poached chicken and realized that there was a great deal more that was out there.

At this time, I have a deep love of spices and herbs. My favorite flavors are those of the Mediterranean and those of India. There is actually some overlap between the two. Part of the reason why I tried out that recipe for the ribs recently was because the rub incorporated a great deal of the spices that are common in Indian food. And I don't know if anyone else noticed, but I could distinctly taste the cardamom. So who am I now? I'm all about traditional cooking methods with global flavors.

And the future? I haven't gotten that far. I'm enjoying the now too much at the moment. But I'm pretty sure it will be a continuation of blending tastes of the past with the new flavors I have yet to experience.

Patsy, Patsy and the alleged Saffron

Back in the 90s when I hung out in the Castro on a regular basis, several of my friends proclaimed that I was Patsy. Whenever I heard this, I would whine, "But I want to be Edina." They'd laugh and reply, "Honey, you will never be Edina because you are Patsy." Whatever.

As I have now accepted this as my fate, I usually try to hang out with Edina types -- like Zombie Mom. Every now and then I find myself in the presence of another Patsy though. And two Patsys? Why quadruple the fun -- because we're each double fun on our own.

And so I found myself out at dinner last night with the other Patsy and the one who tries to call himself Saffron. I'm still not sure about the Saffron thing except he does seem to take all that education stuff seriously.

We met up at Puccini & Pinetti, a place I have passed on numerous occasions. (The other contender was First Crush. Oh and don't tell Maddie that the name of the street is Cyril Magnin because he might just start that whole Cecil thing all over again.) Maddie and Boy Toy had looked at the menu before I arrived. I had an advantage over them though having looked it up online. On Tuesday nights there are happy hour prices in the bar until 10 pm. And yes, that would be about the time we left after getting there around 7 pm.

Maddie and I split the calamari as an appetizer.


I went with the braised short ribs as an entree,


Maddie had the pork chop,


and Boy Toy had the lasagna.

And Boy Toy actually tasted the calamari and the pork chop. Apparently this is some kind of major feat.

OK. Maybe I should correct this. I ordered the short ribs and had them for lunch today. Because Maddie and Boy Toy now know the ugly secret of which Zombie Mom is fully aware. If you put alcohol in my stomach before food, I probably will not eat much. If I remember correctly, Zombie Mom put it as, "Now I understand the way of the skinny chicks. You unconsciously make calorie choices." And speaking of Zombie Mom, I wish that she could have made it but it just wasn't in the cards, or the stars, or whatever.

I do know one thing though. I'm going go miss Maddie and Boy Toy when they leave town tomorrow. Of course, then things may finally settle back down in the Castro once more.

Partygirls unite!

A while back I tried to embed this video, stating that it would be my new theme song for this summer. Go ahead. Click through. I'll wait.

Then I forgot about it until it was used in a routine for SYTYCD.

I don't know about you but it kind of reminds me of my evenings out on the town. The first video, not the second. Well, maybe a little of the second.

Hidden gem

It seems that there were only two takers on Sunday's contest -- David Dust and Maddie. Well, they were both correct and since I bought two items for prizes, they will each be receiving their prize soon.

The most time I spent at any one location on Sunday in my travels was at Filoli. Numerous movies and TV shows have used the estate for filming but as Maddie correctly surmised, I was looking for Dynasty. And yes, what many think of as the home of the Carringtons is actually Filoli.

I started off with the self-guided tour of the house.








And then it was on to the gardens. I didn't cover all of them. Apparently there are 16 acres of gardens.









I wrapped up my visit with lunch in the cafe. While eating, I thought about returning. And so I became a member. That way if I want to get out and am stuck for an idea, I can just pop over for a quick visit.

Guess what

I know that some of you are sitting around saying to yourselves, "That triflin' beyotch has once more not posted a Saturday quiz. What gives?" I hope this makes up for it.

This weekend I made yet another outing. I went to a couple of places but spent the most time at the place pictured above. It has been featured in numerous movies and TV shows. I have a specific TV show in mind though. And so we have a contest -- complete with prizes that I picked up on my trip there. Just answer the following:

1. What TV show (that I'm thinking of) was this place featured on?

2. What is the name of the place?

You have until 12:01 am PDT on Tuesday, July 21 to submit your answer in the comments. In the event that more than one person gives the correct answer, I will determine the winner by random drawing from all of those who gave a correct answer.

While you think, I leave you with more exterior shots of the place. More will follow on Tuesday's post when I announce the winner(s).

Inchworm*

In between all the packing and unpacking I have been doing of late, I have also been trying to clear the stuff from my DVR. I don't know about you but I like to save the shows that I really like for last. I kind of do the same thing with food.

And that's how it was that until last night I still had not seen the season finale of Life. There aren't many other shows that I love as much as that one. I love all the twists and turns. But I really like it when Charlie is playing one of his zen tapes in the car or just comes out with something apropos. And so today I leave you with something that I think was supposed to be from the tape in his car.

"What we learned as children -- that one plus one equals two -- we know to be false. One plus one equals one. We even have a word for when you pass another equals one. That word is love."

I don't know about y'all but I'm going to let that one bounce around in my mind for a few days at least.

* Sorry but I was a huge Danny Kaye fan as a kid.

I'll admit it

I stayed in on a Saturday night. I spent most of yesterday taking care of various things for the new place -- getting a remote for the garage door, meeting with the handyman to finalize the work he will be doing this week, selecting the paint color for the bedroom, selecting the kitchen counter material, buying a light fixture for the dining room. All in all I was out for eight hours. And when I got home, I was plum tired. I also knew that I had a list of stuff to take care of today for the new place and needed to be able to awake clear-eyed. Fortunately before I left out yesterday, I had the foresight to set the DVR to tape one of my fave channels -- VH1. Yep. All five hours of the top 100 One-Hit Wonders of the 80s. And so now I present you with some of my absolute faves from the series.

I think that this one needs no explanation.


It was almost a theme for the years that I lived in the San Diego area. And I have always loved Stan Ridgeway's song for the Rumblefish soundtrack. Oh, and don't get me started on that fabulous score by Stewart Copeland.


If this didn't make you move your butt, then I don't know what will. Just as infectious today as it was back then.


This song summed up my religious feelings in the 80s. Recent events have made me want to start to start belting this one out at the top of my lungs at times. Not there completely yet but pretty damn close. Oh. And I already loved the band before this song came out. "Love on a Farmboy's Wages" still haunts me.

I was going to include this absolute fave of mine by Edie Brickell but apparently embedding is not allowed so if you want to hear it, click through.


I don't know about you but just about every girl I knew in the 80s thought that this was one of the most romantic songs out there. We dreamed of having some guy ask us to dance to this and have him sing along. Instead, I dated the bass player of a cover band. He sang lead on "Great Balls o' Fire" at shows. And in the car we would sing along to "Fly on the Windscreen" together. (Hmmm. I remember thinking yesterday at some point that "Fly on the Windscreen" should be a part of the current soundtrack of my life.)

And today? I did not let the fun end. One of the songs on the list was Quarterflash's "Harden My Heart." I was always a bit more partial to "Find Another Fool" though. So I pulled it up on my iTunes and hit the Genius button. I love how that Genius button knows me so well. I ended up with a mix of Quarterflash with The Fixx, Marshall Crenshaw, Joe Jackson, Simple Minds, The Kinks, Elvis Costello, Rush, The Tubes, and the Divinyls to name a few. Life was feeling pretty good.

Because that's how I've been coping. Keeping busy with the move and listening to some old favorites. And I am now officially done with death. I hope death got that message. If not? There just may be some hell to pay.

Hell nah, beyotch!

You Are a Bad Girl

You are 20% Good and 80% Bad You're a total bad girl, from your wild hair to tattooed toes. But you're too badass to even care if you're labeled "bad"!

Are You a Good Girl or a Bad Girl?

And this is why I enjoy watching "The Bad Girls Club." Kindred souls and all.

Guilty pleasure

Anyone who knows me well, knows that I am a reality TV addict.

A few weeks ago, my lovely aunt in Savannah started describing a new upcoming reality show to me. And all I could think was, "Damn. We're ripping off the British once more." You see, the show she described was eerily close to "Last Restaurant Standing."

When I moved into this apartment four years ago, for the first time in almost ten years I had the chance to have cable TV once more. And I was picky. I said, "I need the lowest cost package you have that includes BBC America. And IFC." I had cable for a couple of hours when I called the folks back and said that I would need DVR as well. I got it the same day as well. Before getting cable this time around, I thought that I was a TV junkie. I was gravely mistaken.

But back to the main topic. I love me some tangents since I discovered the term "stream of consciousness" in high school. Thank you, Mr. Faulkner. OK. So I was always this way but now I had a name for it. And Mr. Faulkner made me believe that perhaps it was a Southern trait. Yeah, I know that Joyce did it first. Bug a lot of Southerners? Descendants of Erin.

Where was I? Oh yeah. Some cooking competition in England. This time around the commercials for the show almost made me spew whatever I was drinking at the time. There's some comment in the commercial about how the contestants cannot understand anything that Raymond Blanc says. My question is that if this the case, then why aren't there some friggin' subtitles? Ya know. Like Guy Ritchie was kind enough to provide in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. Yes, I know that was a completely different accent.

And of course I like to compare Raymond with Gordon Ramsey. Because yeah, I watch "Hell's Kitchen" as well. I love Gordon because he is one of the few people on this planet who perhaps has a bigger pottymouth than I do. And folks, that is hell of impressive. Ask the guys at work. I drop f-bombs several times a day although I'm more known for my colorful hand gestures.

So if you're a "Top Chef" fan and you have BBC America, I say check this show out. It comes on Tuesday nights. I know the season is winding down but it takes them two weeks to eliminate a team. I kind of like that idea. Fuck up one week and you still have one more week to prove why you should stick around.

And now I'm going to return to couch and question why I thought drinking a bunch of pomegranate margaritas on a Monday night was a good idea. (2 pitchers, 4 women.) No, I did not consume them at home. I was out with coworkers. Sheesh. But y'all should have seen the expression on the president of the company's face when he took a taste from the second one. And then we ladies all proclaimed, "Oh, this one has a lot more juice in it." But we were all at work on time today. Even if there was a lot of rehydrating involved. And cravings of greasy, high in carbs foods.

Easing back in

I told y'all there would be more food -- Shrimp and Fingerlings in Tomato Broth. It's cold and wet around here so this has been just perfect. Especially tonight.

Tonight I had the pleasure of leaving work a bit early so that I could drop off my car at the body shop -- again. This past weekend I learned that the manager of the shop is close friend's with my cousin's husband. I also learned that he and his wife live in the same complex where I'm buying my place. Turns out they actually live in the same building as my unit and had been worrying over who their new neighbor(s) would be. So now I have been declared family and am invited to the anniversary party for the shop this Saturday night.

After getting the rental car, I headed straight for Thrive since I've been in pain since last night. Huh. Last night I couldn't find the Vicodin to save my life. I looked down just now and realized that the bottle is right in front of me. And I sat at my desk last night. I guess I was out of it. I guess it doesn't matter much since I now have a new bottle of Vicodin. And one of my real fave -- Flexeril. How some folks feel about Vicodin, Xanax or Claritin? Yeah, that's how I feel about Flexeril. I wanted to do a little dance to welcome my old friend back to my medicine cabinet. (Oh, and in case you're wondering the doctor said that I have muscle injuries that are typical to the kind of car accident in which I was involved.)

So now my tummy is filled with all kinds of tomato-shrimp-potato goodness topped with a little Vicodin and Flexeril. Hopefully I can keep my eyes open for The Bad Girls Club. Because the girls are heading to Mexico this week. And I think one of them might just get arrested.

Too much TV?

When I first received the February issue of Bon Appetit, I was not feeling too thrilled about the recipes. This changed last night when I found myself at the hairdresser (Nothing exciting. I have a standing appointment every two weeks.) and realized that I had forgotten to pack reading material into my bag. I rummaged around and came up with the Bon Appetit.

As I leafed through, recipe after recipe called out to me. And it wasn't because I was hungry. Because hello. I went to Arby's for lunch. Then I happened upon the one for Moroccan-Spiced Scallops and Lentils. Quick and easy to make. And perhaps I was in need of something different after three consecutive nights of braised short ribs. I could stop at Andronico's on my way home for ingredients -- and cat food. It was tasty.

More importantly were my thoughts while cooking. I found myself thinking, "Hmmm. Moroccan spices are not that much different from Indian spices." My next thought was, "Oh no! Indian spices and scallops? I've been watching too much Top Chef!" But the dish was tasty.

Leftovers

Turkey hash

Red potato, diced
Green onions (scallions)
Bell pepper (I prefer to use red, yellow or orange)
Butter
Cooked turkey, diced
Rosemary
Salt
Pepper
Chicken broth

Boil potato in salted water until just soft. Drain and set aside.

Melt butter in skillet. Add onions and bell pepper. Cook for a couple of minutes. Add drained potatoes. Cook until just starting to brown. Add turkey and rosemary. Season with salt and pepper. Cook for a few minutes more to warm turkey. Add chicken broth and cook until all is bound together.

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Sorry for the lack of measurements. It's kind of like when I make chicken and dumplings. Look at how much meat you've got and everything else falls into place.

This time I didn't use a lot of chicken broth because I still had some of the yummy madeira giblet gravy around. And hash is not really complete for me unless it's topped with poached eggs. As I was putting the eggs into the water, I suddenly remembered the need for an English muffin. Because hash always has to have some sort of bread topped with Bartlett pear jam from The Wild Pear. Yes, I drive all the way out to Pt. Reyes Station for this jam. And it is well worth the $8 $10 a jar. It tastes just like a ripe pear.

I know I said that there'd be none of that emotional stuff here but right now it's a lot of who I am. I think Boris and Natasha realize what's going on since they haven't left my side the entire time. And Natasha has really enjoyed the endless movie viewing. Oh, and there were episodes of "Ned and Stacey" as well. For some reason, the second season is not available on DVD. Humph! And if you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it. It will always be one of my favorites. Damn Fox for canceling it.

I was so thankful for the cats over these last few days that I almost "dropped" a piece of turkey on the floor for Natasha yesterday. But then Boris came in and we know that greedy bastard would never be satisfied with just one piece. It would just lead to endless begging. So no turkey for Natasha. She was more fascinated with the smell of the onion, bell pepper and potato anyway. I am starting to suspect that she could become a vegetarian very easily -- except for the need to eat an occasional fly. But that? She's just trying to keep things tidy around here.

Oh, and here's a question for y'all. What would you do if you suddenly found yourself in possession of $25,000? I'm just curious because I already know what I want. Just wondering what you would do with it.