Left to my own devices

For the last two years I have picked up food from Poulet for Thanksgiving. This year I decided it was time to return to cooking. Flufficat will tell you that I spent weeks debating turkey or ham before finally deciding for both.

This year there were some old favorites like the roasted yams and red onions. They are then tossed with some Parmesan cheese and rosemary. There were a few new things as well though.

I made some attempts to copy things I've had from Poulet. The dressing was made with foccacia and has chard and sage in it. The gravy is a madeira giblet cream. I highly recommend it.

And I decided to make an attempt at scalloped potatoes. Nestled between the layers of potatoes are sauteed leeks and mushrooms.

The final new thing was the cranberry sauce. Yes, I have made it before but this is the Cosmopolitan cranberry sauce. After cooking the cranberries with water and sugar, you add some vodka and triple sec. When I told this to Kate on the phone this morning, she said that it sounded like a version of Jell-O shots.


Hope you all have had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I need to continue working my way through this plate.

Shana tova

So after work today, I drove into Berkeley to hit my old fave spot, Poulet. Because you know that it's Rosh Hashanah and that means a special holiday menu at Poulet. There was Chicken B'Stilla -- phyllo filled with chicken, almonds and cinnamon, Lamb Ragout with apricots, raisins, cumin and ginger, Noodle Kugel and Summer Vegetable Gratin. Per usual it was all very tasty.


And when presented with the choice of carrot cake and apple strudel, I don't think that one should have to make a choice.

I've been busy checking out classes to take in the coming months and I'm even thinking about hitting the farmers' market on Sunday -- something I haven't done in some time. I am even thinking about skipping Poulet for Thanksgiving this year and actually cooking. Hmmm. Seems like the last time I did that was three years ago.

One nation full of carbs

I don't know about y'all but in my family, holidays have always meant a carb extravaganza. They just change based upon the season. Mac and cheese? It's your year-round carb. Whereas corn on the cob is purely a summer thing -- much in the same way that candied yams are a winter thing. And potato salad? Basically a year-round carb as well. That non-carby thing on the plate? Chicken grilled over mesquite. Now I know my mother would look at this plate and ask one question. "What? No bread? But you've gotta have bread.


To finish it off, sugary carbs. Now my aunts if they were still around would have you starting and ending your meal with sugary carbs as they were partial to ambrosia. Seeing as it's summer and my daddy's people are from Georgia, a peach cobbler seemed like the natural dessert choice. For a slightly different twist, I topped it with cardamom ice cream instead of the usual vanilla. I happen to think that a dessert that contains cinnamon and nutmeg can stand up to the addition of cardamom. I had briefly thought of trying lavender ice cream but Marin managed to dissuade me of that idea. Another time.

Hope y'all have a great day. And please. Walk away from the carbs. If you're like me, your waist and hips will greatly appreciate it.

Donors

I read Sizzle's post earlier today and I thought, "How nice." I thought how it's really easy to look back on the positive stuff someone has done when they are no longer here. But when you're thigh deep in the crazy and trying to find your way out of the swamp? Not so easy.

I spoke to my "real dad" and my uncle today. Because you know. They're dads. And they both asked if I had spoken to my father today. Uh no. I was even asked if I had at least sent a card. Once more no. Real dad then said, "But he's your father." My response was, "Oh. You mean the DNA donor."

Because right now I can't think of that man as my father. Recent reports indicate that his behavior is much improved. But I've seen that before. I just can't trust him anymore. I never really could

The first time that I realized that he would lie to make himself look good in the eyes of others -- to my detriment -- was when I was about ten or so. It was yet another one of the many bricks in my wall that started when my parents' marriage deteriorated. It's when I learned to be what people want you to be -- if it suits your purpose at that time. But the most important lesson was that no one could ever see all of you at one time. Because then they had the power to hurt you. And I was never going to let anyone hurt me that much ever again in my life. Looking back, I want to cry for my ten-year-old self. Because that's not what being ten should be about.

I have spent years forgiving my parents of their past transgressions. But I never forgot. And I know that if I spoke to them now, they would ask, "Why are you bringing up all this old shit once more?" Why? Because I feel like we've gone full circle. But I choose to not have the conversation because I know the words have been spoken before and it's pointless.

And so I'd like to say Happy Father's Day to the guys who are really dads. Me? I just have a couple of people who donated some DNA -- and a bunch of baggage. Me? I'm just trying to lighten the load -- especially since I was evidence today that the crazy is about to get a lot more crazy. Good thing? I don't have to be in the middle of it now.

Let's try this again

A year ago I hoped that 2009 would be better than 2008. And it was in many ways. Thing is that when I said that, I meant no more relatives dying. Lesson learned? The universe needs clear, concise directions. So let me be clear this time. No more death. I'd like to continue climbing out of this hole that I have been in over the last couple of years and move on with living.


I am the child of superstitious Southerners. Some of those superstitions I hold close to my heart. They are a part of my core of being. One of these states that whatever you are doing on New Year's Day will set the tone for the rest of your year. Over the last few years I have chosen to interpret this as that I should be doing things that I enjoy -- reading, cooking, relaxing. Therefore, I go through great pains in the week leading up to New Year's to ensure that my home is clean so that I will not feel obligated to do anything other than the dishes. And nothing says relaxation like a nice bubble bath.

The final tradition has to do with food. I am a Southerner at heart and so must have pork, black eyed peas and some sort of greens to start off my New Year. (This past week I came across this article on various lucky foods around the world.)

My parents are truly traditionalists. Pork means pig's feet, ears, tails, chitterlings and/or neckbones. (The only one those that I will consume is neckbones.) And my mother feels that black eyed peas must be accompanied by rice. Thing is I don't really like rice. Never have. Although I do like brown rice.


So each year I make sure that I have those three foods. And each year I move a bit further away from the traditional preparation of them. This year I had thought of making the stuffed pork chops once more but then I came across this pork loin roast and bells went off. For many years I have done pork loin roast with a stuffing of sauteed onions, bread crumbs and fresh herbs. Why couldn't I just butterfly the roast and instead stuff it with a mixture of blue cheese and pecans? And the drippings could make the base of a lovely sauce. But then I realized that it really needed something sweet to counter the bite of the blue cheese. Answer? A pear apple chutney. Finishing off the plate is a mixture of black eyed peas with mustard greens and chard. That's right. I combined them. Because this dish alone makes a lovely vegetarian entree. It may not be pretty but it was damn tasty. And I also know that I have done everything in my power to make sure this year will be OK.

But I still worry. Now that I've done it all right, will universe understand me this year?

Finally coming to an end

I have had lots of time to contemplate things over the last couple of weeks and to make list upon list. Not one of those lists is a list of resolutions though. Because I don't believe in making them. I figure that if you are going to make changes in your life, why wait for January 1 to roll around? That's part of the reason why I embarked upon the weight loss path back in November -- because by doing so then meant to me that I really wanted to make those changes. One of my coworkers had started off on the endeavor with me but said right before Thanksgiving that she would wait until January because it's just too hard during the holiday season. Me? I like a challenge. What's a couple of obstacles like holiday meals? I figure if you can get through something when it's the absolutely hardest to do, then you're ready for anything that life hands you.Other thoughts were around traditions. December has been a bit of a challenge over the last couple of years but I'll get it all figured out. And as the new year approached, I suddenly realized that I have longstanding traditions for the start of the year.

I stopped going out on New Year's Eve long ago. Hey. I'm a professional partier and don't like to mix with the rank amateurs like that. So I prepare a tray of food and hunker in for the evening with a selection of books and DVDs.


This years tray features salad, seafood and cheeses -- some of my usuals. The bacon wrapped scallops came from Trader Joe's but the ramekin contains Baked Oysters with Bacon and Leeks -- something I whipped up once I got home from work. Oh, and the bottle is from Domaine Carneros -- a lovely blanc de noir. And let me perfectly honest. I have survived today on green tea and water just so that I could make this calorie splurge. I haven't really lost any weight since around Thanksgiving, but I have also managed to get through this season without gaining back any of the weight I have loss to date. I call that a win.

Here's to hoping that 2010 is a much better year. For now I must return to my tray and try to decide which movie first, and if it's time to throw another log on the fire. And I hope that wherever you are tonight, you are happy and safe.

Tradition

For the last couple of months or so, I have been been trying to think of what tradition means to me. A year ago I would have said that it meant spending holidays with family. When that didn't happen last year, I was very upset -- to say the least.

This year both of my parents stuck around for Thanksgiving and I chose to not spend the day with either of them because I was still so hurt and angry. A strange thing happened though. I thoroughly enjoyed my weekend. There was no worrying about making sure to not say the wrong thing. There was no fighting to not show how much it hurts when someone makes a verbal jab at me.

I had a great moment of clarity this past week at work. I was perusing the Poulet holiday menu and jotting down the items on the Hanukkah and Christmas menus that sounded interesting. Then a coworker came over to my desk and upon seeing the list loudly declared something along the lines of, "Who the hell would want Hanukkah food?" Made it really easy for me to send a response to the email later in the day inviting all the office staff to the Christmas celebration to be held on the 24th. I respectfully declined.

Yes, for years I have been doing the Christmas thing -- out of respect for relatives. The last time I attended a church service was way back in the 80s. Christmas at best has been a secular thing because it stopped being a part of my spiritual beliefs a long time ago. (I have never done the Easter thing all these years because that has not felt as secular a day as Christmas has become.) But I continued to celebrate it with relatives because they understood and respected the fact that my beliefs were not the same as theirs. Without these relatives around, it's hard to hold onto something that is not a part of my belief system. And my decision to pass on the office party? That was out of respect as well. Because I'll be damned if I have to sit there and make nice with someone who so clearly has little respect for anything outside of her narrow view of the world.

The next thing that happened was that I set to cooking yesterday. And while I was stirring things, I realized that I have at least one winter tradition -- a big pot of cioppino. It may not be much but it's a start. And I started thinking that it's time for me to get back in touch with my own spirituality that has taken a back burner to the needs of others over these last few years.

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.

Tis the season

There was supposed to be a photo of a lovely Dungeness crab here. But I forgot to take it. I guess I could post a photo of the pieces of shell...

So yeah, it's crab season now here in the San Francisco area. For me it is the unofficial start to that hideous time of year -- the holiday season. I didn't always think that it was hideous. This is something that developed over the last couple of years. Shocker.

This year I'm trying something different -- saying "Fuck you" to all the crap. Well, I will still get gifts for my parents. And I'm still hard at work on the various craft things. Because little people should not share my view of the season.

Things will kick off this week with Thanksgiving. I placed my order with Poulet a couple of weeks ago and will pick it up Wednesday night after work. My plan is to spend Thursday at home with the yummy food, the cats, some books, some videos, and my craft stuff.

This year my dad has decided to stay in town. Probably has something to do with the new girlfriend. And my mom is in town as well since she is recovering from her surgery. They have both expressed repeatedly their desire for me to join them. Know what I have to say to them? Screw you. It's been about their moods and schedules for too many years. I'm hopping off the ride. Done.

There will be no holiday luncheon at work this year. Instead all of the office staff have been invited to that fabulous dinner at the Fairmont that I attended last year. I said no to that as well. Why? Because I decided I was really tired of the asinine question, "Why don't you have a date?" Ummm. Maybe because for the last year so many people have been sucking me dry that I am not in a healthy place to be dating. (And please. If I have to hear another coworker ask, "How are your parents doing?" I may stop censoring myself. Hello. They're not the only people who lost someone. Why not try asking how I'm doing? No, don't. Because you really don't care anyway.) In my current emotional state, I am almost guaranteed to make extremely bad choices. So yeah, they can bite me as well.

As soon as Thanksgiving has passed, I will start getting pestered about Christmas. I plan to place another order at Poulet and to spend the day at home. Gifts to folks? That's why there is mail order and shipping. And yeah, I don't have to spend it with family but I'm also tired of pretending that other people are my family.

I am a family of one -- three if you count the cats. And it would all be really cool if I didn't have to hear other people's stupid questions that reflect their expectations of it all.

What to say?

I had thought of posting more food from Gregoire but really now. This is supposed to be about my creations and all for the most part. So no Gregoire food. Although the duck was tasty. And the smashed Red Bliss potatoes topped with cheddar cheese? Well, they did manage to mix two of my favorite foods in one dish. Now if they had added bacon to the mix... Ummm yeah. If that had happened, I don't think I would be here. I'd be in a coma somewhere. The overload of serotonin and all.

Meanwhile I'm slogging along. There's stuff I'd love to talk about but not quite yet. Hopefully soon. And yes, I have to work today. But not tomorrow. Because tomorrow should be a national holiday as well. I'm just hoping that the folks in Chocolate City have not lost their minds completely with all this excitement in an extended weekend. What am I saying? It's D.C. Not like it's Oakland. Not to hate on Oakland but folks there tend to get a little bit riled up over the smallest of things. Like losing a spot to the Super Bowl. International Boulevard was on fire that night. Seriously. But I love that my peeps in Oakland feel so passionately about stuff.

This past week I read a really cool article from the New York Times. Go check it out. I'll still be here. Did you read it? Cool, right? So maybe I'll finally really get that dialogue that I've been wanting for the oh past 20 years or so. Because after all of this, if folks are not ready to converse honestly (Notice I did not say "conversate" even though I love my skank TV viewing?), then Nat may just have to get a room ready for me. This is serious stuff, y'all. I don't do winter. But stuff around here over these last few years had had me so freaked out that I might just have to suffer. Because that suffering is better than what we have been through.

Oh and speaking of folks who have had to suffer, check out this post quoting Al Sharpton. Normally I am not down with Al, but then Zombie Mom sent me this same quote -- before it appeared on the blog. I think Al has managed to sum up a lot of frustration quite well.

Oops. I'm not supposed to be discussing politics, am I? Well tomorrow there will be food. And a day later than usual, there will probably be the media day.

But for now I'm going to sit around humming a certain Paula Abdul song.

Last Christmas

Most years holiday dinners have been a potluck for my family but last year was different. My aunt insisted on cooking the whole meal. It had been at least ten years since she had cooked a whole meal on her own. I had sat with her, when I went to drop off my Thanksgiving leftovers, and discussed the recipes that she planned to use. There was a great deal of disbelief amongst family members though. That's why they had asked for photographic proof of the meal.

I've been avoiding these photos for some time. But Christmas is past. And today I just miss her. It's been a hectic week and I just want to talk about it all with my best friend. But instead I think I'll wash dishes and keep watching the "NCIS" marathon. And eating the goodies I picked up at Poulet on Wednesday. This morning it was blintzes with blueberry sauce. Lunch?


Chicken breast stuffed with goat cheese, dried figs & spinach with Focaccia stuffing with pecans, cranberries and leeks. All topped with Madeira giblet gravy.

Not pictured are the yummy winter greens with applewood bacon. And the orange trifle. There had been some latkes as well. I will need to savor what is left as they are closed until after the holidays, if I remember correctly. Thankfully I bought a whole quart of the gravy this time around.

In search of a post

I'm feeling a little guilty right now. My last two posts? One was a quiz and the other about music. I feel like I'm dialing it in.

It's not that I haven't thought about posts over the last few days. There were many moments over this past weekend during which I thought, "I should write about this." Then I remembered that these things fell into areas about which I no longer blog.

I picked up lunch for myself and others in my office on Monday. I took a photo of the food. I thought that I would write about it. It was going to be a whole discussion about the lack of green in the chile verde. Until I started burping up the stuff the whole drive home that evening and found myself wondering, "Will I make it home in time?" At work yesterday, I told my coworkers about this. Three out of the four of us felt ill after that meal. I won't be returning to that place ever again.

Before this I had meant to write about the holiday party I attended on Saturday night -- at the wonderful Fairmont. I was the only one from my company who attended minus a plus one. The president of the company told his wife -- and everyone else at the table -- how he told the senior vice president that he should show up to be my "date" for the evening. So I kind of have a crush on the guy -- lack of dating and all -- but he didn't show. (And I have a firm rule against dating coworkers. But I question this instance at times because if things worked out, I could be a trophy wife. I think I'm well-suited for that role.) My mom was concerned about the music thing at the party. Except for my boss, all of the guys from my company danced with me at some point in the evening.

The receptionist and I got into a huge discussion about the holidays yesterday. She said, "Why can't people just say 'Merry Christmas?'" I pointed out to her that not everyone celebrates Christmas. She said that my answer was the same as her sister-in-law's. Her sister-in-law is a public school teacher. (I've known this for some time.) I pointed out that in public schools it's important to not show any kind of religious preference. In case you're wondering, Christmas is a completely secular thing for me as I am a Pagan. I can't believe I just wrote that. Because saying that you're Pagan can be tantamount to saying that you're a devil worshiper. I'm not. The concept of the devil is a purely Christian concept. So yeah, I love it when someone else tries to impose their belief system onto mine. But I really love it when someone celebrates a holiday that is really about my belief system. (Except for the crass consumerism.) Ranks right up there in the lack of knowledge of the appropriation of customs and traditions from other groups. Because to do so would mean that one would have to acknowledge that these other groups exist/matter. (And yeah, I've had this cheery holiday discussion with family members in the past. When others doubted the veracity of my statements, my uncle, the imam, told them that I had done a good job with my research and that I was correct.)

At dinner on Saturday, one coworker's wife, who had attended "finishing school" in her youth, pointed out the three taboo subjects in polite conversation -- politics, religion and sex. As a rule, I usually try to veer clear of these subjects just as I know the proper fork to use. (I told my mother after the dinner about realizing that a soup was going to be served simply by looking at the place setting. Followed by a salad. And that there would be red and white wine as well from the same.) And so while I avoid the topics at company functions, I think I would be untrue to myself to do so here.

So this is all I have right now. My father is going to Mexico for Christmas and I'm trying my best to not feel like an orphan once more. But once he returns, he wants to discuss finances with me and my stepbrother. (My stepbrother is currently in the hospital, by the way. Maybe he'll get a kidney soon. Just like my mom's brother. I'm so done with this shit.) There are things that were supposed to be coming to me upon my father's death that may be coming to me now.

So along with the grief, I've been dealing with a wild roller coaster of other stuff. Good thing that I like roller coasters.

More other people's food

One of my coworkers was shocked when I said that I would not be cooking this year for Thanksgiving. So much has changed. My aunt has died. My stepmother has died. My father is spending the holiday weekend in Alabama. The last time my mother and I were in the same place for Thanksgiving was in 1983. I used to spend Thanksgiving weekend sharing my leftovers with family members. But this year? My parents are still alive and I feel like an orphan. I had invitations to be elsewhere but let's be honest. Over the last few weekends, I have barely gotten out of bed. After Friday night, I rarely speak to anyone until Monday morning other than my father. Because he calls. And occasionally I make it over to the Zombie household on Sundays -- late in the day.

In the past, it was always a choice to not spend Thanksgiving with my parents. This year I suddenly did not have the choice. It was a bit devastating. I attribute this, along with moving at work, to my weakened immune system. Because I've worked with kids for years and almost never gotten sick. Then again, while the first day of it all was horrid, I have been recovering from the ick rather quickly as compared to others. So maybe those years with the kids has paid off.

After almost a week straight of dining at Poulet last week, I gave into their charms and ordered Thanksgiving dinner from them. Here's the menu I chose. (And yeah, I love me some gravy as evidenced by the photo.)

• Turkey from Diestal
• Focaccia stuffing with chard and sage
• Giblet madeira gravy
• Roasted root vegetables (yams, parsnips and carrots)
• Green beans with shallots and pecans
• Cranberry orange relish
• Pumpkin sweet potato pie with whipped cream

They had pre-printed directions on how to reheat everything. The green beans were actually just blanched. They came with a small container of shallot butter. Once melted, the beans and pecans were tossed in it until warm. So I kind of cooked. Oh, and the pie? That's right beyotches. I have a whole pie for myself. And yeah, the pie came with a container of whipped cream. How cool is that?

As I finished off the plate of food -- funny how I can actually eat a whole plate of food if I don't have to cook it -- I came to a realization. Holidays, at best, just mean a day off from work for me at this point. And so when I hear other people going on about how they're excited about spending a day with family, I just don't get it. I mean I do but I don't. And that's what sucks about this time of year. When people don't understand why it's all OK with me. I've had years to get used to it all and have reached some level of acceptance of this is how it just is. This is how it has always been; I just forgot temporarily.

So please excuse me if I say I am tempted to say that I just vomited in my mouth in comments in response to various posts out there over the next few weeks. Because I suppose I'd love to have that Norman Rockwell/Hallmark kind of holiday season but that's just not reality for me -- and I'm sure for plenty of other folks out there as well. And hearing people say, "This is what the holidays are about." Really not fucking feeling it. Best part of this weekend to date? The food from Poulet and the time to catch up on some of my reading while having a cat curled up next to me. Because so far this is the first weekend in some time that I have not felt like curling up in bed. Well, I do but I just can't sleep anymore. I guess I'm too pissed off to sleep.

But you know what I really wonder? What's going to be on the menu at Poulet for Christmas? I know that next year I'll be ordering for Passover as well. Loved what I saw on their menu this year for that holiday but didn't order. (You don't have to be Jewish to order for Passover, do you?) Oh, and can January 2 come quick enough?

Please excuse the photos. They were taken with my phone. I don't have a battery at this time for my camera. I'd love to tell you about how that came to be but I'd end up being the screaming banshee that I was at work on Tuesday once more. In the meantime, I am trying to figure out where I will get the $80 to replace my battery and charger. Especially since I now have the one parking space at my building -- at a cost of $75 a month. But I'm thankful for that space as it means no longer having to circle for half an hour at times looking for parking. And I wish that some beyotch has the audacity to park their shit in my space.

Time keeps on slipping

I only have a few weeks until the first of the holiday parties to which I have been invited. I have to send in my RSVP for the party by the end of this week.

This party is a work-related one. It's a $100 a plate thing at the Fairmont. I know what I will wear to it, if I attend. The only question is the date thing. (I know I said that I would not discuss dating here but this is different.) My company is footing the bill and I am allowed to bring a date. As such, my mother feels that I should scrape up a date. But it's work. And the Fairmont. And did I mention that it's work? Because I never discuss dating at work. And to show up with a date? Kind of like showing up to a family wedding with a date, in my mind. I used to have guys upon whom I could call in this kind of a situation but not so much anymore. So part of me says that it's better to show up stag.

The next weekend I have to attend a party with my dad. This one is formal. And I still don't have a dress. I'm leaning toward this dress though. Yes, I know it is Sacramento in late fall/early winter but it's all about looking cute.

The last party is the office holiday party. I'm planning that one. No worries there. Except for finalizing the menu over the next couple of weeks.

*sigh* I love the holiday season -- as long as I am working in the right place. This is all almost reminiscent of my days with the Death Star.

And for those of y'all in the States, have a happy Turkey Day!