A Real Housewife

I would like the record to show that I have all of my original parts except for two dental crowns that help the God-given molars to git along. Also, my blond gets a periodic chemical boost but otherwise it’s all factory parts.

That’s all on the plus side. On the minus side, that earns me a life mate that also has (choose one) a- all of or b- only his original parts, plus or minus some hairline.

Except that he picked up something extra along the way. A hearing deficit. I SAID: A HEARING DEFICIT. A HEARING DEFICIT. WHAT ARE YOU – DEAF?

The Hand That Flicks The Lighter Rules The World

Well, now.

I saw this video at Videogum today and at first, I was mildly amused by the antics of the dancing gentleman. Then almost as soon as I realized that he had an equally enthusiastic partner, she stole the show for me. Check her out at 1:25.

Yes he’s lively and I give him points for eclectic styling – I’m sure I saw the Frug in there are one point and a polka at the end – but she’s got props and she uses them right to the end.

Vegas Oklahoma, baby!

Next In The Continuing Series of Things I Don’t Like

update: I guess they DO still make Chickarina soup. I should get some.

I don’t go for those big tennis ball-sized meatballs. The largest acceptable meatball size is ping pong ball-sized.

I do like the concept of marble-sized meatballs but the reality is that if you try to make them yourself, they come out dry and hard to chew. If you want marble-sized meatballs, you are stuck with the ones in cans of Chickarina soup or SpaghettiOs. Not sure if they still make Chickarina soup and I am not going to engage with SpaghettiOs, so I guess then I don’t like marble-sized meatballs either.

Unloveable

I’m a big fan of indoor public spaces. I like the  shiny tile floor patterns and enormous plants that never have yellow leaf tips or bare stems. I’m uplifted by soaring spaces and I appreciate pinpoint lighting for a specific purpose.

Public art, on the other hand, has been an acquired takes. I put no restraint on my outdoor public art – give me a big old Oldenburg trowel or clothespin anytime. I’ve come round to liking that gooney blue bear that peers into the window of the Denver convention center. And while it’s more function than form, I even like  a nice bright red metal bench in a playground. But indoor art is a different thing altogether. It makes me feel manipulated.

I can never get away from the knowledge that its placement, lighting and surrounding open space are laying in wait for me to come by and become ensnared in whatever the artist and curator have planned for me. This doesn’t apply to statues – I’m ok with an astronaut or a giant John Wayne standing over me while I walk by. Those are tributes, not entrapment.

But still, I get it. I get that someone wants me to think or to feel – I’m just not going to cooperate, that’s all. First I disdain it then I dismiss it. It’s a system that works for me in all but one case …

… those damn metal birds all over Tampa Airport.

irritating!

Pelicans, gulls, storks, pipers. Gawd. Their metal feathers look like scales, they hang from cables by visible eye hooks on their wings, they stand next to metal pillars and tangled branches – they are inescapable and they never fail to irritate me.

Maybe that is their purpose – to reduce loitering. They sure make me hurry along to get away from them.

Well, Look At This

Here it is the 24th day of my diet and I’m still pretty much on track. There were a few blips, what with Bingley’s dinner party and two business trips (Hello Florida! I’ll be there at 4 o’clock today!) but looking back on it, things weren’t all that far off the straight and narrow.

I'm gonna git me one of these when I hit my goal, just for old time's sake. Actually, I have to identify my goal first and then hit it. So, my plan isn't exactly fully formed at the moment.

You might be asking yourself what kind of diet I’m on. That’s a very good question. As you know, I am a life-long dieting expert. I know everything there is to know abut dieting and food content and nutrition and strategy. Because I’ve been studying it, thinking about it, denying it and dancing around it since I was 12 years old. So that’s what I’m doing – everything I know. It’s a combination of vintage Weight Watchers, Somersizing and the Daily Plate. In other words, low-carb low fat calorie counting portion control.

And soup.

I have homemade soup every day. Cabbage soup, vegetable soup, white bean chicken chili, meatball soup. Whatever! Here are the common elements: onions, celery, boullion and in 50% of my soups: ketchup and/or beans. After that, it’s up to you. The only thing I insist on is that the pieces of the ingredients are of similar size. That applies to the beans and the pasta if any that are used as well.

Also, this may further reveal me as a Philistine, but I really don’t see a difference when you roast or sauté the vegetables before adding them to the pot. Seriously. I’m thinking this is a result of all the recent “cooks” who’ve showed up on the scene as a one-upping kind of thing to prove they take extra care or extra steps that the common masses do not and that is why their soup is good. Quel poseurs! Here’s something: soup is good no matter what. I can see that I’m veering off onto a soapbox here so let me get back to the main point: I really don’t see a difference when you roast or sauté the vegetables before adding them to the pot.

I won’t be having any soup today because in general I don’t trust restaurant soup. (Hello Buffalo Wild Wings! What are you diet selections?) but when I get back I’m going to make this delicious sounding green bean and potato soup, except without the flour and oil.

That is, if I get back. Is the big montser snow storm for this week still on?