Something Unexpected from Me

A post for animals owners. Race ahead to your StumbleUpon button if you're not.

Anyone who's known me for more than a minute knows there are two things in this world that make me happiest: cooking, and a sale! So in rifling through the supermarket circular that starts tomorrow I discovered that the majority of my “normal” purchases are scheduled for discount. Fantastic!

Sadly, the pantry and fridge are bare today… so… how to bridge the gap?

Can I live on popcorn and dry Rice Chex? Check!

Is there enough coffee? Check!

Totally thought I was in the clear until I reached for the puppy treats. Four dogs, two treats, and it was only 8AM. Cripes…

Then it occurred to me why the hell I had four jars of baby food in my pantry! I’d read a recipe on the online for homemade dog treats that used baby food. Clearly after purchasing said supplies, I decided it was entirely too much effort. Today however, the idea of marketing this afternoon AND tomorrow morning seemed like a challenge I was not up for – ever – unless they started selling wine in the market and it was sample weekend.

I found the recipe on the online again. Don’t bother. It’s everywhere and, if you follow the much-publicized directions, the outcome is disastrous. Here’s my revised version, just in case you find yourself in a treat emergency before the state transition to wine in the market.

4 oz baby food

1 cup regular flour

1 cup rolled oats (think this through if your dog scratches for no apparent reason, in which case, use 2 cups of flour – but NOT whole wheat!)

Preheat your oven to 350.

Put the wet food in the bowl first. This is actually really important I would discover. Add the flour/oats a bit at a time mixing really, really well. In the end, we’re looking for cookie dough consistency. Remember though, the more flour, the less flavor.

LIGHTLY flour a cutting board and a rolling pin, then turn out your dough. Roll to about a quarter inch. I suppose if you’re fancy you could use cookie cutters for shapes, but frankly, if I had that kind of time, I’d go do Mr. Man’s laundry. I used a pizza cutter and, since my dogs are small, made half-inch by half-inch bits.

Put the bits on parchment paper atop a cookie sheet. Bake for 25 minutes. If you got all “look at me!” with your shapes, or the treats are bigger, I imagine you’ll need about 30-35 minutes. Keep an eye on them either way.

Pull them out and let them cool. Stuff a few into a brown paper wine bag (What? That’s the only kind I had.) and the rest into freezer bags – which, do I need to tell you, go into the freezer?

The taste test across four flavors ranked thusly:

Banana

Carrot

Turkey and gravy

Beef

Civic duty for today: Check!

Matchmaker, Matchmaker....

“Christian Mingle.com. Find God’s match for you!”

So THAT’S how your god is spending his time. I was wondering, what with all the public horror going on recently – and now I know. He’s monitoring computer-based algorithms and setting up dinner dates.

Whew! What a relief. I thought he wasn’t doing ANYTHING!

My god (if I had one), People. Isn’t anyone else wholly offended by this? I’m agnostic and even I find it utterly repellent that someone is sucking money out of others (who are already forced to tithe 10% of their income) for an online dating service that boasts that their god is at the helm of every match.

*whistles theme to Gilligan’s Island*

Oh, holy crap!!!

"Suggested" tithe contribution = Membership fee

Pay for hook-ups = Membership services

Your God! It is the oldest profession in the world!

Random Thoughts V (as in the Fifth Time I've Done Random Thoughts)

I'm listening an "ex-beau" sub for Dennis Miller on his radio program this morning.
*blink*
*blink*
THAT'S sufficiently random - so here are a few other random thoughts.

Why do people create a storm, then cry when it rains?
Apparently winter has gone on entirely too long because, if the streets are telling the story (and they are!), there's nothing left to do indoors except pass gossip. Aside from the fact I'm exhausted from hearing all of it, I'm seriously reconsidering who I let into my life anymore. I mean, if someone will say "that" about family or their BFF, imagine what they're saying about you!

Today's PSA
It's never a good idea to corner someone meaner than you.

Read twice, type once
It's baffling - and yes, aggravating - how important it has become to some people to be "seen" on that devil device called FaceBook, that they don't bother to completely read through even the initial the post they're responding to.

"Say again?"
There's a phrase I utterly despise. If you didn't hear me, how about going old school with "I beg your pardon?" or "excuse me?" If you haven't been forced to hear "say again" then perhaps you live somewhere other than the East Coast.
Lucky you...

"Excuse me?"
I do wish people would listen as much as they talk. I have a girlfriend who literally doesn't register anything that isn't about her in some way. It's important to note that there is a very real expectation on her part that everyone remember everything about her and her life - such as it is. At this point, she's obviously just another one of my bad habits.

Odd. Five thoughts and I seem to have run out. Or at least thoughts I'd care to share. That is all, boys and girls. You may now return to your pre-weekend preparations.

I'll be betting "five" on everything...

Shoe Whore

Generally speaking, I do not speak to fashion. Not because it doesn’t interest me, it definitely does! The fabrics, the colors, the statement you get to make with every piece. I gravitate toward those gorgeous classics (think Chanel and hats and gloves), while remembering to stay true to my inner hippie. Clearly this demonstrates that  I possess few constraints or prejudices where fashion is concerned - as long as all the "bits and pieces" are appropriately covered or camouflaged. Still, I leave the topic of fashion alone for the same reason I don't pump my own gas: there are trained professionals for that.

However! With Spring quickly approaching (somewhere!) and limbs on the verge of exposure, it's time to whip out that straight forward, no bullshit delivery of bad news in a fashion area where few can measure to my own expertise.

Brace yourselves.

Ladies – and okay, gentlemen –  your walk is stealing the sexy from your shoes.

Let's start with one very simple, very basic fact: 3+ inches, and platforms, are not for everyone. Unless you're a Southern Girl forced through Charm School where the promenade in high heels is mastered at a very young age, you need to assess the way you walk before you buy. Oh I know, you think your walk is sexy or alluring. But it's not. And showing all that cleavage isn't going to make up for it.

So. What kind of walker are you?

Do you teeter along in a pair of platforms like you're walking on a tightrope?
Do you march along like a stiff-legged soldier, in an attempt not slide into an ass-busting situation? Are you an... oh let's call it "athletic" walker? If not, you still know who I'm talking about (*snicker*). She's apparently never seen a beauty pageant of any kind - even drag! Otherwise she would know that no matter how expensive the footwear, clomping along with her ankles 12" apart makes her look like a linebacker.

There's the "stick up your ass" trotter whose steps are so minuscule I can't help but wonder if she needs to pee, or she really does have an aspirin between her knees. We have the "leaner" who pitches dangerously forward, defying gravity with every step; the "Big Girl" who stuffs her size 8 feet into a size 7 for... well, I don't know why anyone would do that; and finally, the "I think I'm sexy" sashayer who swings her ass so hard both left and right while taking freakishly long yet bent-kneed strides, I'm left feeling both sorry and afraid for her future spine.

Since quite obviously so many women - and okay, men - have absolutely no idea how to dress their feet, for your convenience I've provided the following Shoe Rules. Feel free to print and post on your closet door... 

1. If they aren’t 100% comfortable in the store, they will not “break in.”
2. If the soles are slippery, stop clutching your way across the room and take a scissors to the bottoms in a criss-cross pattern.
3. If you generally live in flip-flops, it's time to accept that you don’t actually possess any fashion sense. Oh, I know you think you do… I also know that you don’t. Find yourself a friend who'll tell you the truth about yourself - if you can take it. You should not be left to your own devices in the shoe department.
4. If you’ve left high school, yet purchased a “cocktail” dress in the “prom” section of a department store, don’t try to match your shoes to it. Return the dress. You know why.
5. If you can’t actually run a full city block in the shoes, you need to believe me when I tell you that you can't walk half a block in them either. I don’t care how amazing you think they look on your feet, it’s always more “mommy’s closet” than “hot mama.”
6. If you're under 5'4" you seriously need to reconsider your collection of flats. They make your legs look short and ass look big - especially when you wear them with skinny jeans.

It's hard to believe that I would need to expand on item 3 above, but recently, I witnessed a perfectly lovely girl in a perfectly lovely cocktail dress intentionally pair it with those horrendous pieces of $0.99 rubber: There is nothing - I repeat, nothing - sexy about flip-flops. Never, ever has the man existed who looked at a woman (or another man, for that matter) and said, "ooooh, yeah! I'd like those flip-flops wrapped around my neck!" Sure, I own a single pair I carry when I go for pedicure, but even those aren't flat! And they have sequins - the answer to all things hideous. Flip-flops are not fashionable. They speak to the same sentiment made about sweatpants by everyone from Karl Lagerfeld to Jerry Seinfield.

"Sweatpants [flip-flops] are a sign of defeat. You lost control of your life so you bought some sweatpants [flip-flops]." ~ Karl Lagerfeld

"You know the message you're sending out to the world with these sweatpants [flip-flops]? You're telling the world, 'I give up. I can't compete in normal society. I'm miserable, so I might as well be comfortable." ~ Jerry, Pilot Episode of Seinfeld

And that, Dear Readers, is all I care to say about that...

Glide ladies! Glide!

St. Valentine and the Hallmark Gold Crown

Over the years I've had quite a bit to say about St. Valentine's Day. And over the years, many people have stood atop their soapbox trying to make me feel like a sap by expounding the tired exclamation that it's nothing more than "a Hallmark holiday."

I call "hypocrite!"

You want a Hallmark holiday? How about Mother's Day! Father's Day! Grandparent's Day! These anti-Valantine's Day people who are too lazy or sad or pathetic or just looking for something to be sour about, are the same people who will mow you over and snatch the last musical birthday greeting card smooth out of your hands, because if you don't acknowledge others, they won't acknowledge yours... And that's where they're living!

Most common "excuse" for ignoring St. V's day?

"I tell my husband / wife / partner / girlfriend / boyfriend / mistress every day how much he/she means to me! I don't need Hallmark making money off it once a year!"

I call "bullshit!"

You do not. Nobody does that in real life. What we do do is take advantage of one another, push things off, put career before home, weigh the pros and cons of our actions then decide to ask forgiveness later, and generally see how much we can selfishly take from "the one we love."

It ain't pretty - but that's modern day "love."

Frankly, I think St. Valentine's Day does a huge service to couples everywhere. You can't avoid the commercialism, so it's not like you can forget about it. Unlike, say... your wedding anniversary?

[sidebar: Don't judge. I totally know mine... now.]

So why not indulge in a little silly romance? It doesn't hurt, and it can only help plead your case if you've been a less than stellar partner lately... or, ever.

Buy a card. Some flowers, maybe. Make a dinner reservation. Or feel free to think outside the box (just not too far..."the best laid plans" and all...). Spend five minutes thinking about the five million hints that have been dropped in your lap over the past 364 days - then execute something.

Advice for Men: Things Not to Plan

• Don't plan a picnic in bed. I'd like to believe the reasons are obvious.
• Do NOT, under any circumstances, sprinkle rose petals on the bed. Aside from staining the sheets and duvet, the next morning, it's like waking up in a bowl of Kellogg's Corn Flakes.
• Don't show up at any restaurant without a reservation. If she's hungry now, she's gonna be a real bitch in an hour.
• If you're running out for that last minute piece of sexy lingerie, do stay within the confines of the type of relationship y'all have. If she's not a black-sheer-cammie-with-matching-crotchless-panties kind of girl, then think bootie shorts and a fun t-shirt.
• And for gawd's sake, if she hates red, do not buy her red!

I didn't actually start out to end up giving advice. But there you have it.

Stop rolling your eyes and feeling put-upon, then come embrace the fun that is Valentine's Day - the gold crown of "Hallmark Holidays!"

*flips through cell phone for take-away options*

You, You, You, and Who?

All this talk of gun regulation, legalizing marijuana, drug testing for welfare, and whatever other issue whereby someone is wearing a placard about their rights – civil or otherwise – is exhausting. Frankly, I think we should be concerning ourselves with a bigger problem: Reality television.

This ridiculous phenomenon has given one entire generation a hugely inflated sense of self-entitlement, while making another so narcissistic that they’re incapable of the tiniest act of kindness without publicly announcing it in an effort to gain congratulations and, I assume, a glimpse of their 15 minutes of fame.

Which leads me to...

Speaking of vain, can someone please tell me what this whole "birthday MONTH" is about? As I understand it, there are grown adults who've decided that instead of one day of cake and candles, they're deserving of a month's worth. I was super puzzled by this, until one of the voices in my head posed this question:

"I wonder if this was the actual precursor to people using their birthday as a way to garner both self-indulgent admiration and gifts?"

Two true stories:
I know this girl who publicly announced that for her birthday she’s going to roam around town performing random acts of kindness, then document them all on FaceBook.

*blink*
*blink*

Because... she wants us to know how awesome she is?

Then there's the self-pronounced “I have so much money that you can't buy me anything, so you should totally admire my grand idea” birthday girl who asked for cash gifts so that she can give it to a person of her choosing "who has sooooooooo much less me.” Here's a thought. How about you use some of that money to learn how to hear yourself the way everyone else does, then quietly go about the business of helping others?

In a weirdly serendipitous coincidence, the past two weeks or so I’ve had probably a half-dozen people say to me, “I didn’t know that about you.” Yeah... that's because unless you ask, I'm not going to talk about myself, or pat myself on the back. I grew up believing that's incredibly poor form, and like talking about money – it just isn’t done.

Having said that, listen up, People!

I’m not poor - monetarily speaking, anyway. I make a significantly-well-above-average salary, and though most of it goes out as quickly as it comes in to support my stupid and apparently neverending house renovation, I still manage to regularly scrape together a little something to send to organizations who give a voice to those without one.

You want to "be someone?" Adopt an animal. You can't help but to become the person your pet believes you are.


(pictured: Fredo Guiseppe)






The following is a short list of animal-related orgs whose administrative overhead is low and whose need for donations (cash or otherwise) is always high:

Your local SPCA (Google it!)
Your local no-kill shelters
www.theanimalrescuesite.com/
www.hendrickboards.com
http://www.chenoamanor.org/

Feel free to leave your favorite in the Comments below.

I'll Take That One!

Do you ever look at your life and think, “hey, HEY! Who’s the wise guy? I did not sign-up for this!”?

Yeah. Me too.

I’m not trying to blame anyone here, but some of it did happen to me, not because of me… apparently while I was ordering another martini. That aside, even though I see my hand in a lot of it, I know I was never so over-indulgent in the vodka that I said, “gee, that’s totally fucked-up and nothing at all like what I want. So yeah, I'll take that one!”

Ya'll know I'm a huge believer in The Universe putting you exactly where you're supposed to be - sometimes for you, sometimes for someone else. But my gawd, I cannot possibly imagine what else I have to learn or teach in this hellhole of apparently permanent stasis.

Still though... as much as I want something to shake loose, change is hard. It's hard to start, it's hard to own, it's just generally hard. So I get why people - myself included - can talk about it but don't necessarily jump at the chance to make it happen. I think it's a shortcoming of over-thinking.

I once moved 1,800 miles in less than a day after having woken up one morning and deciding to do it. No job. Nowhere to live. Just some luggage and a destination. I'll admit it was a hair impulsive - and  perhaps not my brightest stroke of genius. But at least I didn't over think it.

[sidebar: I do not recommend this course of action to those for whom impulsiveness is still in the experimentation stages. This is Advanced Impulsiveness and should not be attempted without completing the following pre-requisites: Ruin Your Life in a Single Bottle, Disgrace by Drugs (an unpaid internship), Intermediate Impulsiveness, and Advanced Cleaning Up Your Own Mess.]

That was then...

Now, I think.
And I make a list.
After that come the impossibly reasonable and seemingly endless notes about why I can't just shift gears pre-mid-life-ish. I wish there was a market where I could choose a new direction the same way I choose my fruits (both tree-grown and human). Check my list. Browse the seasonals. Give this one a squeeze and that one a sniff. Root around in the bins a bit for that overlooked gem, or maybe just point and say, "I'll take that one!"

SHAZAM!