6: the number of weeks I have left in Chicago. I'm moving!!! To Santa Fe!! Really, really soon!
9: the number of years I've lived here in Chicago. It's been fun, this is a great city. I could just do without February.
24: the number of years ago I first came to visit Chicago. I mean really see the place. Mama Bird had come up to work on a show room for a convention, and suggested that I might want to see the city. I was 13 years old. It was amazing and scary and so much fun! I don't think I'll ever forget it.
So I have a few more weeks to soak in as much of Chicago as possible, go to all the restaurants I keep saying I want to try, but never have somehow. Go to the Farmer's Markets. Walk along the beach and marvel at the enormous body of fresh water that is Lake Michigan. Go to the concerts in Millennium Park and eat pesto while dodging poorly aimed soccer balls (if that happens again, I'm gonna stick the corkscrew in the damned ball). Soon I will be posting about how hot and dry it is, and how much fun it is to set up my new place. And that there are snakes out there! BIG ones.
--Little Bird is getting a new nest
Showing posts with label Deep Thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Deep Thoughts. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Thursday, April 7, 2011
The Change
So there was a recent question on Facebook about where you may have been on 9/11. I answered "at work". But there's more to it than that. I was working at a Whole Foods. It hadn't opened yet. I was hired to work in Specialty and Wine. We were still building out the store. It was maybe 9 am or so. I was outside smoking with one of the guys from the bakery department. We overheard the construction guys talking about the World Trade Center bombing. I thought they were talking about the incident years earlier. It did register that there were no planes in the sky, but not that I should be concerned about it. I went back inside, and ten minutes later all work stopped. TV's were rolled out, in several areas of the store. We all stood there entranced, shocked. Unable to move. Unable to think. My cell phone rang. It was Mama Bird, calling to find out if I had heard. I called my ex-boyfriend (former Navy) to make sure he was okay. It turned out that the Shift Manager of my store had an ex-wife. Her new fiance was on the plane that crashed into the Pentagon.
Nothing more got done that day. I couldn't even think straight.
I remember sitting outside, just before I went inside and found out the news. It was such a nice day. Warm, sunny, a few clouds here and there. It was quiet. Peaceful. And then it all changed.
--Little Bird remembers
Nothing more got done that day. I couldn't even think straight.
I remember sitting outside, just before I went inside and found out the news. It was such a nice day. Warm, sunny, a few clouds here and there. It was quiet. Peaceful. And then it all changed.
--Little Bird remembers
Friday, July 23, 2010
Wherein I Wax Nostalgic
This evening, rather late, I was struck with this indescribable urge to go outside. No reason. I just needed to go outside. So I did. And when I stepped outside the doors, I was struck. By the air. The smell, the sensation, the sounds. It's warm, but not hot. And the smell, ... have you ever put something made of iron in your mouth and tasted that sharp tang? That's what it smells like outside right now. It's humid, but not too humid. There's a certain sense of nostalgia outside right now that I can't really explain. It smells green outside. I don't know how to explain it. I love it. It is soooo nice outside that I would love to sleep outside if I could. If I could without being crawled over by about a million spiders.
Something about the quality about the air outside reminds me of being a kid. Nothing specific about being that kid, just being there. I cannot explain it - I know I said that already - but it's true.
It's like I'm here, in this moment, experiencing life. Being there, in life. So much of each day just goes by and I don't really think about it. But there are moments, like tonight outside, where you really feel life. I'm here in this moment and I am. Even the sounds of the night are important somehow. The dull rumble of traffic. The faint hum of insects. The even fainter hum of the air-conditioner condensers from all the nearby buildings. There are people out and about, talking. You can't hear what they are saying, just the babble of voices. But quiet-like. If I had better words to describe it, I'd use them.
--Little Bird is... in the moment
Something about the quality about the air outside reminds me of being a kid. Nothing specific about being that kid, just being there. I cannot explain it - I know I said that already - but it's true.
It's like I'm here, in this moment, experiencing life. Being there, in life. So much of each day just goes by and I don't really think about it. But there are moments, like tonight outside, where you really feel life. I'm here in this moment and I am. Even the sounds of the night are important somehow. The dull rumble of traffic. The faint hum of insects. The even fainter hum of the air-conditioner condensers from all the nearby buildings. There are people out and about, talking. You can't hear what they are saying, just the babble of voices. But quiet-like. If I had better words to describe it, I'd use them.
--Little Bird is... in the moment
Friday, February 5, 2010
iClean
I found out the other day that it might be possible to for me to hook my busted laptop up to my television set. All I need are some cables and maybe an adapter. Which I may already have. This will only work if the problem is in the screen and not the video card. I'm hoping for a $40 fix, instead of a $400 fix.
I think I also found out that I may be a touch OCD. If only in VERY slow cycles. I spent a goodly portion of yesterday clearing out a few drawers and organizing my movies. And my jewelry box. And then I made a schedule of when I'll clean what in the next week or so. I also have this odd desire to start scrapbooking. Something I've never been interested in before. A therapist would likely tell me that all this is some kind of attempt to impose order on my life. What you have to understand is, I hate cleaning. I hate organizing. Dunno why. Just do. The drawers in my room are usually catch-alls for all the random pieces of paper I accumulate. And pens. And cards. And beads etc. etc. (This is also likely some deeply rooted subconscious need being filled in some way.) I only get into organization mode once or twice a year. And usually it's not me who initiates it.
What's amusing to me about this is, this time I've been able to see it. And parse it. And even though I think I know what's going on, I still have the urge to organize. Maybe I should start doing some of this at night, since I'm not really sleeping anyway. Maybe I'll be done in under a week that way! Since getting up this morning I've already cleaned out two more drawers and plan on getting the rest of that set done today/tonight. Next up, the book drawer (under the bed and not in any way part of the drawer set I am currently working on).
--Little Bird is organizing... again
I think I also found out that I may be a touch OCD. If only in VERY slow cycles. I spent a goodly portion of yesterday clearing out a few drawers and organizing my movies. And my jewelry box. And then I made a schedule of when I'll clean what in the next week or so. I also have this odd desire to start scrapbooking. Something I've never been interested in before. A therapist would likely tell me that all this is some kind of attempt to impose order on my life. What you have to understand is, I hate cleaning. I hate organizing. Dunno why. Just do. The drawers in my room are usually catch-alls for all the random pieces of paper I accumulate. And pens. And cards. And beads etc. etc. (This is also likely some deeply rooted subconscious need being filled in some way.) I only get into organization mode once or twice a year. And usually it's not me who initiates it.
What's amusing to me about this is, this time I've been able to see it. And parse it. And even though I think I know what's going on, I still have the urge to organize. Maybe I should start doing some of this at night, since I'm not really sleeping anyway. Maybe I'll be done in under a week that way! Since getting up this morning I've already cleaned out two more drawers and plan on getting the rest of that set done today/tonight. Next up, the book drawer (under the bed and not in any way part of the drawer set I am currently working on).
--Little Bird is organizing... again
Friday, January 1, 2010
Satisfaction, I Got Some
It's a bright sun shiny first day of the new year! Also, it's cold. Really cold. There's ice on the lake cold.
Last night was a nice quiet evening spent inside watching movies. And opening birthday gifts. My birthday is tomorrow, but Rooster thought I should open them last night. Season one of "True Blood", a collector's edition of "Monty Python and the Holy Grail", a set of salt and pepper shakers (green glass George Washington busts) and a CD from Starbucks (covered with thousands of teeny tiny birds). I'm very close to starting the "True Blood" marathon, and will now have to go find season two so I can stay current.
My father sent me a gift too. This is nothing short of amazing since we don't have the best of relationships. Mama Bird can attest to that being the understatement of the century. Anyway, my father sent me a set of Melmac (trademarked) cafeteria style (think 50's or 60's) tea/coffee cups, saucers, and dessert plates with a sugar bowl and creamer. It's all this great shade of lime green that will actually go perfectly with all my orange stuff. It's really cute and I love it!
I don't have any resolutions, I would likely break them in a week anyway. But I can say that already, this year is better than the last. Last year this time, I was alone. Last year this time I was depressed. This year I have someone to share time with, someone to watch movies with. Someone to just BE with. It's nice.
Last year's depression had little to do with being alone, and everything to do with being dissatisfied. Dissatisfied in general. The last part of this past year has been great, and it looks to only get better.
So I hope that everyone had a great New Year's, and that the coming year is the best one yet for everyone.
--Little Bird is satisfied
Last night was a nice quiet evening spent inside watching movies. And opening birthday gifts. My birthday is tomorrow, but Rooster thought I should open them last night. Season one of "True Blood", a collector's edition of "Monty Python and the Holy Grail", a set of salt and pepper shakers (green glass George Washington busts) and a CD from Starbucks (covered with thousands of teeny tiny birds). I'm very close to starting the "True Blood" marathon, and will now have to go find season two so I can stay current.
My father sent me a gift too. This is nothing short of amazing since we don't have the best of relationships. Mama Bird can attest to that being the understatement of the century. Anyway, my father sent me a set of Melmac (trademarked) cafeteria style (think 50's or 60's) tea/coffee cups, saucers, and dessert plates with a sugar bowl and creamer. It's all this great shade of lime green that will actually go perfectly with all my orange stuff. It's really cute and I love it!
I don't have any resolutions, I would likely break them in a week anyway. But I can say that already, this year is better than the last. Last year this time, I was alone. Last year this time I was depressed. This year I have someone to share time with, someone to watch movies with. Someone to just BE with. It's nice.
Last year's depression had little to do with being alone, and everything to do with being dissatisfied. Dissatisfied in general. The last part of this past year has been great, and it looks to only get better.
So I hope that everyone had a great New Year's, and that the coming year is the best one yet for everyone.
--Little Bird is satisfied
Friday, December 25, 2009
Bonfire, Bonfire, BONFIRE!
Greetings from the high desert! I am writing this from Abiquiu New Mexico and it is COLD here. The train ride here was blessedly uneventful and the scenery (while it was light out) was pleasant. It snowed almost the whole way here. Or at least, there was snow on the ground almost the whole way here. The peanut butter filled pretzels were just right.
Mama Bird and I came to a deal last night. I won't make disparaging comments about her buying expensive, well made items ($40 socks, for example), and she won't make fun of how I tend to over prepare for travel. And the reason she won't make fun of my preparedness is we had to stay in Santa Fe the night my train came in. See, it snowed here. A lot. And the roads were horribly bad. She didn't want to be driving in that PLUS it would be dark before we go to the cabin. But, she hadn't planned on staying in Santa Fe, so she didn't have things like a toothbrush and toothpaste. Or lotion. I had all those things. Plus a few more (I also had a wine key that came in handy last night). I won't be making any more disparaging comments about her expensive well made things because I realized that I too tend to spend a lot for things that are worth it (I want a $30 garlic press).
Last night was one of the best Christmas eves I've ever had. It was cozy, we had good food, we sat around and sang Christmas songs. The church across the plaza from us has a bonfire every year. A great huge thing that has to be visible for miles. We had never been to it so we figured we would go this year. Midnight Mass was at 10, and so we kept peeking out the window, and sometimes walking over to the church to see if there was anything to see. Nope. So we finally figured that the fire would be lit after Midnight Mass, and we settled down in the living room to reminisce. Mama Bird got up to get something out of the kitchen and all of the sudden I heard her say "bonfire". I had to ask her what she meant and she said "bonfire, bonfire BONFIRE!" What we hadn't noticed was the piles of wood in front of the churches fence/wall. Quite a few of them in fact. And now they were all lit. It looked like the church itself was aflame. People were gathering and going in, and the processional was getting ready to go in. We were outside to watch them all go in to the church and watched the fires for a bit, but we didn't think we could stay up another hour to go see the big bonfire. We walked back to our cabin under a cloudless sky filled with all the stars you can't see when you live in a city. It was perfect.
I have just been informed that next year for Christmas, Mama Bird wants an axe.
--Little Bird is prepared for this
Mama Bird and I came to a deal last night. I won't make disparaging comments about her buying expensive, well made items ($40 socks, for example), and she won't make fun of how I tend to over prepare for travel. And the reason she won't make fun of my preparedness is we had to stay in Santa Fe the night my train came in. See, it snowed here. A lot. And the roads were horribly bad. She didn't want to be driving in that PLUS it would be dark before we go to the cabin. But, she hadn't planned on staying in Santa Fe, so she didn't have things like a toothbrush and toothpaste. Or lotion. I had all those things. Plus a few more (I also had a wine key that came in handy last night). I won't be making any more disparaging comments about her expensive well made things because I realized that I too tend to spend a lot for things that are worth it (I want a $30 garlic press).
Last night was one of the best Christmas eves I've ever had. It was cozy, we had good food, we sat around and sang Christmas songs. The church across the plaza from us has a bonfire every year. A great huge thing that has to be visible for miles. We had never been to it so we figured we would go this year. Midnight Mass was at 10, and so we kept peeking out the window, and sometimes walking over to the church to see if there was anything to see. Nope. So we finally figured that the fire would be lit after Midnight Mass, and we settled down in the living room to reminisce. Mama Bird got up to get something out of the kitchen and all of the sudden I heard her say "bonfire". I had to ask her what she meant and she said "bonfire, bonfire BONFIRE!" What we hadn't noticed was the piles of wood in front of the churches fence/wall. Quite a few of them in fact. And now they were all lit. It looked like the church itself was aflame. People were gathering and going in, and the processional was getting ready to go in. We were outside to watch them all go in to the church and watched the fires for a bit, but we didn't think we could stay up another hour to go see the big bonfire. We walked back to our cabin under a cloudless sky filled with all the stars you can't see when you live in a city. It was perfect.
I have just been informed that next year for Christmas, Mama Bird wants an axe.
--Little Bird is prepared for this
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Catharsis
Last night I was trying to think of a topic to write about for today. And I had a fantastic idea. Right before I fell asleep. No, of course I don't remember what it was. That would be silly. And unlikely to boot. So I'll just muddle on here, and see what I can come up with.
My trip to St. Louis is coming up, and the weather just keeps getting worse. I hope it's at least DRY this year. Rain would put a damper on things (no pun intended).
This weekend I am making a birthday dish for Mama Bird (birthday was while she was out of town) and I haven't a clue how to make it. It's that dish she had at that restaurant in Taos. The dish is Chiles en Nogado. I've found several recipes for it on-line but every time I tell her about them she says it's not the right thing. That hers was breaded. So this ought to be an interesting experience. I think the yelling in the kitchen is all part of the cooking experience anyway. It's cathartic. At least that's what I'm going to tell my step-father the next time he complains about our yelling.
Thanks to everybody for the container ideas for traveling with spices! I'll figure something out, I have some time left. I did realize that I need at least two containers by Thanksgiving, when Mama Bird and I go to New Harmony. For those that don't know, New Harmony is a tiny little town that has a lot of history to it. We like the quiet. And the quaint, antique-y feel the place has. We're getting a "cottage" this time (we haven't been in YEARS) so we can cook our own meals. The real plus side is the place has a fireplace. We get to sit in front of the fire and stare at it. While that might not sound like fun to everyone, for a couple of city-bound nerdy types, it's absolutely heaven. When we go to New Mexico, we stare at the fire there too. It's like taking a step back, and getting away from all the hustle and bustle. Stopping and taking a breath. Meditating. The fire is like a focus. It's always changing, but always the same.
--Little Bird takes a breath
My trip to St. Louis is coming up, and the weather just keeps getting worse. I hope it's at least DRY this year. Rain would put a damper on things (no pun intended).
This weekend I am making a birthday dish for Mama Bird (birthday was while she was out of town) and I haven't a clue how to make it. It's that dish she had at that restaurant in Taos. The dish is Chiles en Nogado. I've found several recipes for it on-line but every time I tell her about them she says it's not the right thing. That hers was breaded. So this ought to be an interesting experience. I think the yelling in the kitchen is all part of the cooking experience anyway. It's cathartic. At least that's what I'm going to tell my step-father the next time he complains about our yelling.
Thanks to everybody for the container ideas for traveling with spices! I'll figure something out, I have some time left. I did realize that I need at least two containers by Thanksgiving, when Mama Bird and I go to New Harmony. For those that don't know, New Harmony is a tiny little town that has a lot of history to it. We like the quiet. And the quaint, antique-y feel the place has. We're getting a "cottage" this time (we haven't been in YEARS) so we can cook our own meals. The real plus side is the place has a fireplace. We get to sit in front of the fire and stare at it. While that might not sound like fun to everyone, for a couple of city-bound nerdy types, it's absolutely heaven. When we go to New Mexico, we stare at the fire there too. It's like taking a step back, and getting away from all the hustle and bustle. Stopping and taking a breath. Meditating. The fire is like a focus. It's always changing, but always the same.
--Little Bird takes a breath
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Valley of the Dolls
Taking a cue from Nancy over at nancynall.com, I bring you this story from my childhood.
When I was very young I wanted a Barbie doll. All my friends had them. My cousins had them. But, alas, these dolls were not allowed in my house, by edict of Mama Bird. I know now why she didn't want them around. But I still don't agree with the ban on them. When I was eight or so I took it upon myself to buy my own damned Barbie doll. The western/cowgirl Barbie (I think I was still harboring dreams of becoming a Dallas Coyboys Cheerleader. Remember, I was born in Dallas, I couldn't help it.). She came with the hat and boots and a tiny rubber stamp that was a kiss mark. I was so proud of myself for getting it myself (I used my Christmas money) and my grandmother had no problem with me buying it. Mama Bird made me return it the next day, unopened, unplayed with.
Mama Bird thought that I would develop an unhealthy body image if I had Barbies around, what with their enormous boobs and microscopic waistline. That I would think that was how I should look. That I would somehow become as acquisitive as the dolls "character" (C'mon, the bitch had everything).
Eventually Mama Bird cracked, and for valentines day when I was about nine or ten, I got my first ever Barbie doll. Pink 'n Pretty was the version. She came with both a dress and slinky pink pants. I was over the moon. More Barbies followed that one and I ended up with quite a collection. Because you can't just have one. She's got to have friends. And boyfriends too.
I never thought I would look like Barbie. In fact the ones that I thought the prettiest weren't because of their figures. There was a tropical something or other friend of Barbie's who's name was Miko or something like that. Her facial features were exotic. And a few years later there was a strawberry blonde with green eyes I thought was pretty. I wanted her hair. Not the body shape. I wanted to wear make-up, and be a rock-star. Or a clothing shop owner. Or a vet. Barbie had sooooo many jobs over the years.
Because I had a few of them, and it was my constant desire to make everything the way I wanted it to look, I drew heavier make up on them. I tried to crimp the hair of one of them (yes, I had a crimper) and melted it all away. When I got even older I turned them in to punk Barbies, drawing tattoos on them and cutting up their clothes.
I don't think Barbie is the best role model for little girls. But I don't think she's the worst either. I think that if parents take the time to show them how ridiculous she looks, kids will be just fine playing with Barbies. Dolls are for make-believe. Pure fluff. Not for reflecting reality. That being said, I think the Barbie computer games and "movies" are awful. They make no allowances for pure imagination. And they totally push the "I must have every thing Barbie I can find" attitude.
I am able to look at Barbie now and make fun of her. More for the consumerism aspect of her and her world. You could take virtually anything, paint it pink and write Barbie across it and it would sell like hot-cakes. That's the part I totally agree with Mama Bird about.
--Little Bird does most emphatically NOT look like Barbie (and is still quite content)
When I was very young I wanted a Barbie doll. All my friends had them. My cousins had them. But, alas, these dolls were not allowed in my house, by edict of Mama Bird. I know now why she didn't want them around. But I still don't agree with the ban on them. When I was eight or so I took it upon myself to buy my own damned Barbie doll. The western/cowgirl Barbie (I think I was still harboring dreams of becoming a Dallas Coyboys Cheerleader. Remember, I was born in Dallas, I couldn't help it.). She came with the hat and boots and a tiny rubber stamp that was a kiss mark. I was so proud of myself for getting it myself (I used my Christmas money) and my grandmother had no problem with me buying it. Mama Bird made me return it the next day, unopened, unplayed with.
Mama Bird thought that I would develop an unhealthy body image if I had Barbies around, what with their enormous boobs and microscopic waistline. That I would think that was how I should look. That I would somehow become as acquisitive as the dolls "character" (C'mon, the bitch had everything).
Eventually Mama Bird cracked, and for valentines day when I was about nine or ten, I got my first ever Barbie doll. Pink 'n Pretty was the version. She came with both a dress and slinky pink pants. I was over the moon. More Barbies followed that one and I ended up with quite a collection. Because you can't just have one. She's got to have friends. And boyfriends too.
I never thought I would look like Barbie. In fact the ones that I thought the prettiest weren't because of their figures. There was a tropical something or other friend of Barbie's who's name was Miko or something like that. Her facial features were exotic. And a few years later there was a strawberry blonde with green eyes I thought was pretty. I wanted her hair. Not the body shape. I wanted to wear make-up, and be a rock-star. Or a clothing shop owner. Or a vet. Barbie had sooooo many jobs over the years.
Because I had a few of them, and it was my constant desire to make everything the way I wanted it to look, I drew heavier make up on them. I tried to crimp the hair of one of them (yes, I had a crimper) and melted it all away. When I got even older I turned them in to punk Barbies, drawing tattoos on them and cutting up their clothes.
I don't think Barbie is the best role model for little girls. But I don't think she's the worst either. I think that if parents take the time to show them how ridiculous she looks, kids will be just fine playing with Barbies. Dolls are for make-believe. Pure fluff. Not for reflecting reality. That being said, I think the Barbie computer games and "movies" are awful. They make no allowances for pure imagination. And they totally push the "I must have every thing Barbie I can find" attitude.
I am able to look at Barbie now and make fun of her. More for the consumerism aspect of her and her world. You could take virtually anything, paint it pink and write Barbie across it and it would sell like hot-cakes. That's the part I totally agree with Mama Bird about.
--Little Bird does most emphatically NOT look like Barbie (and is still quite content)
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
On Windows And Jets
I've learned an interesting lesson this past week. If the windows are open at my folks' place, I can stay with the cats for a longer period of time. I now know why my step-father ALWAYS has a window at least cracked! We had a heat wave here in Chicago recently and I had closed the windows and turned on the a/c. I itched. I sneezed. I turned off the a/c and opened the windows today. It's not as bad this way. And the heat wave seems to have passed.
My folks are extremely lucky to not be in town this weekend. The air show will be here. Fighter jets and freaking HUGE planes will be buzzing our buildings for two days. I hate the air show. And they are doing practice runs all week. Nothing says "good morning" like an F-15 (I have no idea what kind of plane it was, so I'm using a name I know) screaming past your window at 8 am. I should point out that they are at roughly the same height as my windows too. It sounded like the thing was going to come crashing into my living room. I wasn't at my folks' place so I couldn't tell you what the cats did. But I can guess. They must have freaked. And hid in the closet. And I know one of 'em puked.
Why do we even have air shows? Friday morning about a million people will descend on my neighborhood and trash it. The maintenance guys are putting up the orange hurricane fencing now in an effort to keep them off the grass. They'll have to post one guy up on the sundeck to keep non-residents out. If we have to have air shows, why can't they be out in the 'burbs?
Other than that, it's been slow around here. With the folks being in Europe for a bit, and not due back for a few more days, there's not all that much to do. The markets are nice, I live off of them nearly exclusively. Which means the food is good. I've been walking (primarily to the markets) and I have somehow managed to lose some weight. I am now down ten pounds from the starting point. When I reach my goal I'll tell what that was, but not before.
The ice cream ball is getting a little use, but not too much. I don't want to gain weight, I want to lose it. Nor have I used the fry daddy. To be honest, I'm a little afraid of it. I don't want to start a fire. Or burn myself. And I regularly burn myself on my oven so you can imagine what damage I could do with the fry daddy.
-- Little Bird itches, a bit
My folks are extremely lucky to not be in town this weekend. The air show will be here. Fighter jets and freaking HUGE planes will be buzzing our buildings for two days. I hate the air show. And they are doing practice runs all week. Nothing says "good morning" like an F-15 (I have no idea what kind of plane it was, so I'm using a name I know) screaming past your window at 8 am. I should point out that they are at roughly the same height as my windows too. It sounded like the thing was going to come crashing into my living room. I wasn't at my folks' place so I couldn't tell you what the cats did. But I can guess. They must have freaked. And hid in the closet. And I know one of 'em puked.
Why do we even have air shows? Friday morning about a million people will descend on my neighborhood and trash it. The maintenance guys are putting up the orange hurricane fencing now in an effort to keep them off the grass. They'll have to post one guy up on the sundeck to keep non-residents out. If we have to have air shows, why can't they be out in the 'burbs?
Other than that, it's been slow around here. With the folks being in Europe for a bit, and not due back for a few more days, there's not all that much to do. The markets are nice, I live off of them nearly exclusively. Which means the food is good. I've been walking (primarily to the markets) and I have somehow managed to lose some weight. I am now down ten pounds from the starting point. When I reach my goal I'll tell what that was, but not before.
The ice cream ball is getting a little use, but not too much. I don't want to gain weight, I want to lose it. Nor have I used the fry daddy. To be honest, I'm a little afraid of it. I don't want to start a fire. Or burn myself. And I regularly burn myself on my oven so you can imagine what damage I could do with the fry daddy.
-- Little Bird itches, a bit
Monday, June 8, 2009
Of Trains and Crocs
It's official. I am a nerd. I just watched the first few minutes of "The Big Bang Theory" and one of the geeks (the head geek) is particularly excited about an upcoming train trip. And he knows to much about the route. Sigh. It sounds way too much like me. And seriously, the rest of the guys are like nearly every other guy I've met on the train. Well, OK, I've met a few guys that were very likely convicted felons too. That being said, I still prefer train travel to plane travel. I don't claim to really understand why.
My weekend house guest was lovely. We had stir-fry and much wine. Then it was mexican food with some of her other friends that live here. Friday, we spent pretty much the entirety of the afternoon at the beach. It was the best afternoon I think I've had in a very long time. Also, the best part of all of that? I DID NOT HAVE TO WEAR MY BRIGHT ORANGE CROCS!!! I did however have to wear my earth shoes. To the beach. It was slightly weird. All in all it was a good time. I did realize that I have issues with the beach. I will almost always be the one in long pants.
That's all that's new, except for the fact that I did pound the crap out of the new shoes with a hammer and they are nearly wearable now. The blisters are almost healed!
--Little Bird has accepted the truth
My weekend house guest was lovely. We had stir-fry and much wine. Then it was mexican food with some of her other friends that live here. Friday, we spent pretty much the entirety of the afternoon at the beach. It was the best afternoon I think I've had in a very long time. Also, the best part of all of that? I DID NOT HAVE TO WEAR MY BRIGHT ORANGE CROCS!!! I did however have to wear my earth shoes. To the beach. It was slightly weird. All in all it was a good time. I did realize that I have issues with the beach. I will almost always be the one in long pants.
That's all that's new, except for the fact that I did pound the crap out of the new shoes with a hammer and they are nearly wearable now. The blisters are almost healed!
--Little Bird has accepted the truth
Monday, February 16, 2009
It's Not Just For Soap
Now that the worst of winter seems to be behind us, weekends are for walking. Eight miles this Saturday, and a bit less Sunday. Given that Mama Bird did not have to go to work today, we walked. Only about 3 miles, but we walked. Walking seems to have helped my recent moods, getting out in the fresh air and sun is always a good thing.
As I said, the organization continues, next up is my clothes closet. After that, I'm not sure. There are many other areas that could use the help, but without bookshelves it will be difficult. Perhaps I'll turn to thinning out the stuff I don't really need.
This afternoon Mama Bird and I baked cupcakes. Dark chocolate with lavender icing. We totally cheated and used a box mix for the cake part. We also cheated on the icing. It was from a can and was plain white icing. To this we added minced lavender, about 1/2 a teaspoon. Also added was food coloring to make it a pale, pale purple. 3 drops red to 2 drops blue for one can of icing. After they were iced we sprinkled lavender over them. Not only were they pretty to look at they taste divine!
In two weeks I will have lived here in Chicago for six years. March first. Sometimes it feels like I've been here forever, that this is where I belong. Other times it feels like I just moved here yesterday and it is like a revelation. When I was new here it felt that way. That weird duality. I felt like I had come home, but was also struck with the amazing wonder that is this city. There are things to do and places to go here. And not all of them cost an arm and a leg. Yes, winter here can be a pain (literally) and summer is fleeting. But it's a great city to live in. For one thing this city is pedestrian friendly. You can walk ANYWHERE. And I usually walk everywhere. If the weather is bad, or it's late in the evening I take a bus or a cab. If I'm going to an event with friends who drive, I catch a ride with them. I can't wait for summer when walking is easier (warmer) and the days are light for longer. For Millennium Park to start it's season of concerts again, so I can picnic while enjoying the music and the city together.
In honor of that six year anniversary I am planning a special meal. Roasted Duck, Haricot Verts with Walnut Oil, and Gratin Potatoes. The plan is to reserve the left over duck fat and make fries later. Thus the Frydaddy will be christened. I have never cooked duck before so this will be interesting. But we don't plan on using fancy sauces, and the rest of the menu should balance that out.
Haricot Verts with Walnuts and Walnut Oil
1/3 cup walnuts
sea salt
3/4 pound haricots verts, stems trimmed
3 tbsp walnut oil
coarsely ground black pepper or grains of paradise
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Spread the walnuts in a small baking dish. Bake until you can hear the walnuts sizzling or smell them when you open the oven door, about 5 minutes. (Set your timer!!) Remove from oven and chop coarsely.
Meanwhile, bring a large pot of water, seasoned with sea salt so that it tastes like ocean water (not quite, but salty), to a boil. Add the haricots verts and cook until just tender but still firm, about 4 minutes. (Don't over cook: they will continue to cook out of the water) Drain, then spread out on a kitchen towel to soak up excess water.
Gather the beans while still hot and toss in a bowl with the warm walnuts and the walnut oil. Season generously with pepper (or grains of paradise) and perhaps a bit more salt.
serves 2 ( double or triple as needed)
The green beans in this are supposed to be the really skinny kind, not cut skinny, naturally skinny. This recipe is adapted from a book my bestest friend gave me. And Grains of Paradise can be found at most specialty spice stores.
--Little Bird will fall into a sugar coma tonight.
As I said, the organization continues, next up is my clothes closet. After that, I'm not sure. There are many other areas that could use the help, but without bookshelves it will be difficult. Perhaps I'll turn to thinning out the stuff I don't really need.
This afternoon Mama Bird and I baked cupcakes. Dark chocolate with lavender icing. We totally cheated and used a box mix for the cake part. We also cheated on the icing. It was from a can and was plain white icing. To this we added minced lavender, about 1/2 a teaspoon. Also added was food coloring to make it a pale, pale purple. 3 drops red to 2 drops blue for one can of icing. After they were iced we sprinkled lavender over them. Not only were they pretty to look at they taste divine!
In two weeks I will have lived here in Chicago for six years. March first. Sometimes it feels like I've been here forever, that this is where I belong. Other times it feels like I just moved here yesterday and it is like a revelation. When I was new here it felt that way. That weird duality. I felt like I had come home, but was also struck with the amazing wonder that is this city. There are things to do and places to go here. And not all of them cost an arm and a leg. Yes, winter here can be a pain (literally) and summer is fleeting. But it's a great city to live in. For one thing this city is pedestrian friendly. You can walk ANYWHERE. And I usually walk everywhere. If the weather is bad, or it's late in the evening I take a bus or a cab. If I'm going to an event with friends who drive, I catch a ride with them. I can't wait for summer when walking is easier (warmer) and the days are light for longer. For Millennium Park to start it's season of concerts again, so I can picnic while enjoying the music and the city together.
In honor of that six year anniversary I am planning a special meal. Roasted Duck, Haricot Verts with Walnut Oil, and Gratin Potatoes. The plan is to reserve the left over duck fat and make fries later. Thus the Frydaddy will be christened. I have never cooked duck before so this will be interesting. But we don't plan on using fancy sauces, and the rest of the menu should balance that out.
Haricot Verts with Walnuts and Walnut Oil
1/3 cup walnuts
sea salt
3/4 pound haricots verts, stems trimmed
3 tbsp walnut oil
coarsely ground black pepper or grains of paradise
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Spread the walnuts in a small baking dish. Bake until you can hear the walnuts sizzling or smell them when you open the oven door, about 5 minutes. (Set your timer!!) Remove from oven and chop coarsely.
Meanwhile, bring a large pot of water, seasoned with sea salt so that it tastes like ocean water (not quite, but salty), to a boil. Add the haricots verts and cook until just tender but still firm, about 4 minutes. (Don't over cook: they will continue to cook out of the water) Drain, then spread out on a kitchen towel to soak up excess water.
Gather the beans while still hot and toss in a bowl with the warm walnuts and the walnut oil. Season generously with pepper (or grains of paradise) and perhaps a bit more salt.
serves 2 ( double or triple as needed)
The green beans in this are supposed to be the really skinny kind, not cut skinny, naturally skinny. This recipe is adapted from a book my bestest friend gave me. And Grains of Paradise can be found at most specialty spice stores.
--Little Bird will fall into a sugar coma tonight.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Beer and Butterflies
Well I survived. Mainly because I stayed home. Being out in public, near traffic on amateur night was not something I intended to do. Yeah, I stayed up. I toasted the new year with beer, the store nearest me did not have splits of champagne, and I didn't want to waste any. And I couldn't have had an entire bottle of champagne by myself. If I had tried, I wouldn't have made it out of bed this morning. Champagne is a headache just waiting to happen (for me) if more than three glasses are imbibed.
I have noticed that I have readers now, and I must say thank you! For all your kind words and suggestions. This is new for me, I hardly know what to say or do now. It's great to get feedback on the recipes! I'm glad they're so well received! So this post's recipe was picked for one such commenter.
Saffron Butterflies
Farfalle allo Zafferano
This is an adaptation from Patricia Wells' Trattoria. It quickly replaced mac & cheese as a comfort food.
Sea salt
8 oz dried italian farfalle or butterfly shaped pasta
2 Tbsp unsalted butter
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 tsp saffron threads
sun-dried tomatoes julienne to taste
fresh basil chopped finely to taste
1 clove garlic minced
Freshly grated parmigiano-reggiano cheese for the table
Optional: Italian sausage 4 links.
Add pasta to boiling water, cooking until tender, about 8 minutes. In a small sauce pan over low heat, mix butter, cream sun-dried tomatoes, basil, and garlic. stirring until butter is completely melted. Add saffron slowly, bringing up the heat just a little. Drain pasta, and in same pot add cream sauce. If serving with italian sausage, broil sausages on middle rack at high until cooked through, about 10 minutes. Serve on plates or pasta bowls with sausage either along side or across pasta.
serves 4
--Little Bird would like to thank her readers/commenters
I have noticed that I have readers now, and I must say thank you! For all your kind words and suggestions. This is new for me, I hardly know what to say or do now. It's great to get feedback on the recipes! I'm glad they're so well received! So this post's recipe was picked for one such commenter.
Saffron Butterflies
Farfalle allo Zafferano
This is an adaptation from Patricia Wells' Trattoria. It quickly replaced mac & cheese as a comfort food.
Sea salt
8 oz dried italian farfalle or butterfly shaped pasta
2 Tbsp unsalted butter
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 tsp saffron threads
sun-dried tomatoes julienne to taste
fresh basil chopped finely to taste
1 clove garlic minced
Freshly grated parmigiano-reggiano cheese for the table
Optional: Italian sausage 4 links.
Add pasta to boiling water, cooking until tender, about 8 minutes. In a small sauce pan over low heat, mix butter, cream sun-dried tomatoes, basil, and garlic. stirring until butter is completely melted. Add saffron slowly, bringing up the heat just a little. Drain pasta, and in same pot add cream sauce. If serving with italian sausage, broil sausages on middle rack at high until cooked through, about 10 minutes. Serve on plates or pasta bowls with sausage either along side or across pasta.
serves 4
--Little Bird would like to thank her readers/commenters
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
There's No Place Like Home
I survived. More importantly so did my family. I am home and got to sleep in my own bed last night. I slept like a rock, a warm and cozy rock.
I'll start with the train ride. It was, to date, the least late of all the trips I have taken. I had two seats to myself for almost all of the ride. That means I was able to sleep. Not that sleep on a train, in coach, is particularly restful. My food and drink reserves held for the whole trip. The fly in the ointment was the 2 hour stint from Denver to Granby when I had some old geezer sit next to me and spout a bunch of racist, bigoted bullshit as if he thought I might agree with him. It was Japs this, and Obama that, and something about how if his daughter had ever come home with a black guy, she wouldn't be welcome. I could hear the people sitting behind me gasping. I just smiled, told him that everyone has an opinion and then I attempted to change the subject. I was tempted to tell him to shut the fuck up and keep his hatred to himself. I was tempted to tell him (politely) that it might be best if he found another place to sit. The train was full. That is why I did neither. I did not want to be stuck sitting next to him while he directed that hatred and ignorance at me.
My family was only marginally better than that guy. I was asked my political views by an uncle who really wasn't trying to be argumentative. He honestly wanted to know what I thought. His sister in law, my aunt however tried to start a "debate". I told her that I knew that her opinions were not the same as mine, and that she was entitled to those opinions. Just as I was entitled to mine. That I would not argue politics with her, as we would NEVER change each others minds.
I stayed at a cousins house, on an air mattress. Word to the wise, when up in the mountains, in the cold, air mattresses need to have a blanket that you sleep on top of PLUS about 3 more to cover yourself with. The air inside the mattress is the same temp as the room. And the room I slept in was about 40 degrees.
Gift giving went well, I now have more orange stuff. And more salt and pepper shakers. And more crosses. I gave every one pieces of cross stitch, and then told them how it was intended to be "used". For one uncle I had a gift card, since he lost his house to a fire. I figure he knows what he needs and I don't want to get him something useless.
The train ride home was late getting to the station. By an hour. But it was nice. I saw a bald eagle launch itself into the air. I saw others in trees. I saw a huge herd of elk, running in the snow. I saw wild turkeys in the corner of a field. I saw the sun rise all pink and orange, over some hills. I saw the frost glitter on the dirt road that ran along side of the tracks. And I saw horses playing in the snow. All of this was beautiful.
My train arrived home at 7pm. THREE hours late. I was never so happy to be home. To sleep in a REAL bed. And a friend of mine gave me an early birthday present. A case of beer. It was a fantastic homecoming. Now, I just need to gear up for Friday, my birthday. I will try not to do what I did last year. And hopefully I won't need to spend Saturday hiding under the blankets and pillows with a pounding hangover.
--Little Bird is back in the nest
I'll start with the train ride. It was, to date, the least late of all the trips I have taken. I had two seats to myself for almost all of the ride. That means I was able to sleep. Not that sleep on a train, in coach, is particularly restful. My food and drink reserves held for the whole trip. The fly in the ointment was the 2 hour stint from Denver to Granby when I had some old geezer sit next to me and spout a bunch of racist, bigoted bullshit as if he thought I might agree with him. It was Japs this, and Obama that, and something about how if his daughter had ever come home with a black guy, she wouldn't be welcome. I could hear the people sitting behind me gasping. I just smiled, told him that everyone has an opinion and then I attempted to change the subject. I was tempted to tell him to shut the fuck up and keep his hatred to himself. I was tempted to tell him (politely) that it might be best if he found another place to sit. The train was full. That is why I did neither. I did not want to be stuck sitting next to him while he directed that hatred and ignorance at me.
My family was only marginally better than that guy. I was asked my political views by an uncle who really wasn't trying to be argumentative. He honestly wanted to know what I thought. His sister in law, my aunt however tried to start a "debate". I told her that I knew that her opinions were not the same as mine, and that she was entitled to those opinions. Just as I was entitled to mine. That I would not argue politics with her, as we would NEVER change each others minds.
I stayed at a cousins house, on an air mattress. Word to the wise, when up in the mountains, in the cold, air mattresses need to have a blanket that you sleep on top of PLUS about 3 more to cover yourself with. The air inside the mattress is the same temp as the room. And the room I slept in was about 40 degrees.
Gift giving went well, I now have more orange stuff. And more salt and pepper shakers. And more crosses. I gave every one pieces of cross stitch, and then told them how it was intended to be "used". For one uncle I had a gift card, since he lost his house to a fire. I figure he knows what he needs and I don't want to get him something useless.
The train ride home was late getting to the station. By an hour. But it was nice. I saw a bald eagle launch itself into the air. I saw others in trees. I saw a huge herd of elk, running in the snow. I saw wild turkeys in the corner of a field. I saw the sun rise all pink and orange, over some hills. I saw the frost glitter on the dirt road that ran along side of the tracks. And I saw horses playing in the snow. All of this was beautiful.
My train arrived home at 7pm. THREE hours late. I was never so happy to be home. To sleep in a REAL bed. And a friend of mine gave me an early birthday present. A case of beer. It was a fantastic homecoming. Now, I just need to gear up for Friday, my birthday. I will try not to do what I did last year. And hopefully I won't need to spend Saturday hiding under the blankets and pillows with a pounding hangover.
--Little Bird is back in the nest
Monday, September 29, 2008
Evenings at My Place.
I think I've figured out how the government is going to bail itself out. By harassing me for money that THEY say I owe them. Something about a student loan that they say exists. I don't think so. So that was how my day went. I got the call after my earlier post. I spent the entire day fretting about this. Arrrrrgggg!!!!! I don't need this!!
Of course, if the government is using this method to bail itself out, it's not gonna work. I have no money. If indeed this loan did exist, I don't have any money to give them anyway.
I've made a casserole, and had some wine. I don't think this was the wisest course of action. But, maybe, just maybe, I will be able sleep without waking up 10 times due to nightmares about government coming to take me away. What do you think the chances are? Yeah, I don't have high hopes for this one either.
So tonight has been a plethora of bad tv and shameless failblogging. Usually it's one or the other. Tonight, it is both. It's that kind of night. I will follow up all of this with a nice hot bath. The jackass from the collection agency will say that if I can afford to take a bath, I can afford to pay off the loan. The loan that I NEVER TOOK OUT!!!
He, the jackass at the collection agency, seems to think that I should just lean on some family member for the money. That my address means that I have money. That I should be falling all over myself, begging them to take money that I don't have.
Sigh. These are the things I think of at night.
--Little Bird is about 2 sheets to the wind
Of course, if the government is using this method to bail itself out, it's not gonna work. I have no money. If indeed this loan did exist, I don't have any money to give them anyway.
I've made a casserole, and had some wine. I don't think this was the wisest course of action. But, maybe, just maybe, I will be able sleep without waking up 10 times due to nightmares about government coming to take me away. What do you think the chances are? Yeah, I don't have high hopes for this one either.
So tonight has been a plethora of bad tv and shameless failblogging. Usually it's one or the other. Tonight, it is both. It's that kind of night. I will follow up all of this with a nice hot bath. The jackass from the collection agency will say that if I can afford to take a bath, I can afford to pay off the loan. The loan that I NEVER TOOK OUT!!!
He, the jackass at the collection agency, seems to think that I should just lean on some family member for the money. That my address means that I have money. That I should be falling all over myself, begging them to take money that I don't have.
Sigh. These are the things I think of at night.
--Little Bird is about 2 sheets to the wind
Sunday, April 27, 2008
If You're a Nerd and You Know It, Raise Your Hand
*Hand held above head* What is a Pink? I am led to believe it is some sort of flower. But what does this flower look like? Does it exist today? The only real refrence I have is Kate Chopins "The Awakening". The very last sentence of the book reads: "There was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air." I read this book when I was in early high school. It is an amazing book. But I still have never really known what a pink is. For a while I thought it was mimosas, the tree blossom. But from recent internet searching the best I can come up with is crepe myrtle. If you, my decidedly few readers know what I'm looking for please tell me!! This is gonna drive me nuts!!
That being said, I am researching this beacause i would like to use the quote as a tattoo. And I would like to incorperate an image of the appropriate blossom with it. Did I mention that this book, the one I reffrence, is from 1899? Yes. I AM a nerd. Your point please?
--Little Bird is searching for answers
That being said, I am researching this beacause i would like to use the quote as a tattoo. And I would like to incorperate an image of the appropriate blossom with it. Did I mention that this book, the one I reffrence, is from 1899? Yes. I AM a nerd. Your point please?
--Little Bird is searching for answers
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Memories
I woke up today remembering a morning in the last town I lived in. It was early summer. And early morning. There was that haze in the morning that promises the day will by noon be a green leafy sauna. I was on a health kick and had decided to walk around the park. I did this 3 or 4 times a week for about a month. It wasn't summer in its full glory, the leaves were still light and bright, not the deep lush green of true summer. I had already walked past the mounted police stables, but hadn't yet reached the zoo. It was hot, but not that shirt stuck to your back, clammy hot.
It's that memory I think of when I think of summer. Of what the perfect day feels like. I'm waiting anxiously for weather like that again. For the opertunity to go for a walk in the park. To walk by the lake, to sit under the trees. To not need to wear three layers of fleece plus a down coat. To walk to the florist and get fresh flowers that won't freeze before I get them home. I want to have house guests over and be able to take them to all the great outdoor sights this place has to offer. To not have this awful, weird winter cold and flu crap. I think I'm ready for spring. I just hope I have that afternoon free to go to the park.
---Little Bird is ready for spring fever
It's that memory I think of when I think of summer. Of what the perfect day feels like. I'm waiting anxiously for weather like that again. For the opertunity to go for a walk in the park. To walk by the lake, to sit under the trees. To not need to wear three layers of fleece plus a down coat. To walk to the florist and get fresh flowers that won't freeze before I get them home. I want to have house guests over and be able to take them to all the great outdoor sights this place has to offer. To not have this awful, weird winter cold and flu crap. I think I'm ready for spring. I just hope I have that afternoon free to go to the park.
---Little Bird is ready for spring fever
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Nothing In Particular
WoooHooo!! Heatwave! It's 50 degrees!! The heater is off, my window is open, it feels awesome. Yes, it actually is a little too cold for it, but it's just too nice not to.
Today is my day to do nothing. And by nothing I mean nothing. I've been reading, watching TV, and spending time on the interwebs. Specificly icanhascheeezburger. The site that has somehow become a community. Later today I'll be doing more nothing and maybe a nice relaxing bath to recover from all that nothing. Tomarrow I'll go run errands. Not today. Of course, it's pretty bad when you realize that you've opted to spend the day watching Harry Potter, for the umpteenth time.
Typing this is getting in the way of my nothing-doing so, ta ta!
--Little Bird is more than ready for spring
Today is my day to do nothing. And by nothing I mean nothing. I've been reading, watching TV, and spending time on the interwebs. Specificly icanhascheeezburger. The site that has somehow become a community. Later today I'll be doing more nothing and maybe a nice relaxing bath to recover from all that nothing. Tomarrow I'll go run errands. Not today. Of course, it's pretty bad when you realize that you've opted to spend the day watching Harry Potter, for the umpteenth time.
Typing this is getting in the way of my nothing-doing so, ta ta!
--Little Bird is more than ready for spring
Friday, February 29, 2008
Warning, Political Rant.
Ok, I'm cheating here. This is something I wrote July 4th, of last year. I found it yesterday while I was going through my files. I thought I would share.
The other day I was talking with my cousin and a friend about music. Elvis to be exact. The friend said something along the lines of how Elvis, while great, started out by using other peoples music and style. My cousin said that Elvis was America. That's right, she said he WAS America. My initial response to this was "You mean the guy who got fat, was a total druggie and ended up dead on the crapper." Yes, I actually said crapper.
She took offense to my remark. She had meant that he started out poor, worked hard and lived the american dream. Hmmmm.... the american dream huh? I'm not buying it. But I stand by MY analogy. Think about it. Yeah when he was young and just starting out you could argue that he was good. Great even. Then he got celebrity. And money. And with those things came sycophants. Those guys who toady up to the rich and famous. Let's not forget the folks who waved a few drugs around at him. He did drugs, we all knew that. Whether it was the drugs or the sycophants that encouraged the gold lame jumpsuits and made him blind to his ever increasing girth we'll never know. Even his art suffered. His best stuff is from his youth. But the point is he ended up fat, drugged out, and dead on a toilet.
Now, for how that relates to the U.S. In it's youth america was...well... not the best of nations considering the native americans, but for a period of time, say in my grand parents time, patriotism was paramount. We were on top of the world. THE world leader. We had the best schools. We were healthy. It was all God and Country.
Then we let it go to our head. We thought ourselves invincible. Our power became our drug. We as a society got fat. And lazy. And as tacky as a gold lame jumpsuit. We are now the laughing stock of the planet. They call us "ugly americans" . Because we are so ethnocentric it IS laughable.
Now we have an administration that is trying to run the country like a corporation. And the person at the head of this "corporation" has sent how many previous corporations where? Down the toilet.
--Little Bird will now get off her soapbox
The other day I was talking with my cousin and a friend about music. Elvis to be exact. The friend said something along the lines of how Elvis, while great, started out by using other peoples music and style. My cousin said that Elvis was America. That's right, she said he WAS America. My initial response to this was "You mean the guy who got fat, was a total druggie and ended up dead on the crapper." Yes, I actually said crapper.
She took offense to my remark. She had meant that he started out poor, worked hard and lived the american dream. Hmmmm.... the american dream huh? I'm not buying it. But I stand by MY analogy. Think about it. Yeah when he was young and just starting out you could argue that he was good. Great even. Then he got celebrity. And money. And with those things came sycophants. Those guys who toady up to the rich and famous. Let's not forget the folks who waved a few drugs around at him. He did drugs, we all knew that. Whether it was the drugs or the sycophants that encouraged the gold lame jumpsuits and made him blind to his ever increasing girth we'll never know. Even his art suffered. His best stuff is from his youth. But the point is he ended up fat, drugged out, and dead on a toilet.
Now, for how that relates to the U.S. In it's youth america was...well... not the best of nations considering the native americans, but for a period of time, say in my grand parents time, patriotism was paramount. We were on top of the world. THE world leader. We had the best schools. We were healthy. It was all God and Country.
Then we let it go to our head. We thought ourselves invincible. Our power became our drug. We as a society got fat. And lazy. And as tacky as a gold lame jumpsuit. We are now the laughing stock of the planet. They call us "ugly americans" . Because we are so ethnocentric it IS laughable.
Now we have an administration that is trying to run the country like a corporation. And the person at the head of this "corporation" has sent how many previous corporations where? Down the toilet.
--Little Bird will now get off her soapbox
Saturday, February 23, 2008
It All Depends On What You're Buying
RIDDLE ME THIS
When you go to the grocery store and buy the largest box of mac & cheese, they call it FAMILY SIZE
When you buy the largest box of crackers it's ........................FAMILY SIZE
When you buy the largest bag of chips they have dubb............PARTY SIZE
When you buy the mega box of condoms they call it .........ECONOMY SIZE
Huh?
Economy size? Isn't that what you call a compact car? Obviously Family size won't work. I'm sure the good folks at the condom company don't want you to think about family when buying your prophyactics. It kind of defeats the purpose. Party size would work, but then they sound as if they condone orgies. So it begs the question. What should they call it?
These are the things that I think of when grocery shoping.
And I have proof that no good deed goes unpunished. My total came to $63 something*. I handed the nice cashier girl $70. She didn't look and typed in $80 and proceeded to give me $16 something in change. I stopped her and pointed out her mistake, not wanting her to get in trouble at the end of her shift. She thanked me and corrected it and helped me load up my eco-friendly canvas bags. I walked out of the store without my dish soap.
* $63 something will easily feed me for a week, soup, pasta, bread, peanut butter, soda, stuff like that. What it won't do is keep me in drinks. I will run out of the soda (sweetened with splenda) and propel by monday afternoon. And beer? Ha.
One of these days I'm going to get a membership to one of those mega-bulk stores and stock up on basics. My basics include: paper towels, toilet paper, soda (though they never have the kind I like) dry pasta, sundried tomatoes, propel (well it would be a basic if I had that membership) and beer. Oh yeah, and dish soap.
---Little Bird wants to know
When you go to the grocery store and buy the largest box of mac & cheese, they call it FAMILY SIZE
When you buy the largest box of crackers it's ........................FAMILY SIZE
When you buy the largest bag of chips they have dubb............PARTY SIZE
When you buy the mega box of condoms they call it .........ECONOMY SIZE
Huh?
Economy size? Isn't that what you call a compact car? Obviously Family size won't work. I'm sure the good folks at the condom company don't want you to think about family when buying your prophyactics. It kind of defeats the purpose. Party size would work, but then they sound as if they condone orgies. So it begs the question. What should they call it?
These are the things that I think of when grocery shoping.
And I have proof that no good deed goes unpunished. My total came to $63 something*. I handed the nice cashier girl $70. She didn't look and typed in $80 and proceeded to give me $16 something in change. I stopped her and pointed out her mistake, not wanting her to get in trouble at the end of her shift. She thanked me and corrected it and helped me load up my eco-friendly canvas bags. I walked out of the store without my dish soap.
* $63 something will easily feed me for a week, soup, pasta, bread, peanut butter, soda, stuff like that. What it won't do is keep me in drinks. I will run out of the soda (sweetened with splenda) and propel by monday afternoon. And beer? Ha.
One of these days I'm going to get a membership to one of those mega-bulk stores and stock up on basics. My basics include: paper towels, toilet paper, soda (though they never have the kind I like) dry pasta, sundried tomatoes, propel (well it would be a basic if I had that membership) and beer. Oh yeah, and dish soap.
---Little Bird wants to know
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Two Posts, One Day
Ok, have you ever had a moment of .... not exactly realization, but sorta.
Remember life before cell phones? Do you really?? I hadn't until I watched something on TV last night. Something with kids and a car wreck. Anyway, I had thought that if they had only had a cell phone the pretty lady wouldn't have died. Of course if she hadn't died, there would be no movie. So then I tried to think about a time in my childhood when a cell phone would have come in handy.
So I was about 10ish, I had to have been under 12 'cause my folks were still together. My parents had gone for a walk. I had opted to stay home (walks with the 'rents were unbelievably boring at that age) by myself. This had to have been one of the very first times I was ever allowed to be home alone. Ok, so I've been alone for all of ten minutes and the phone rings. It's some creep who feels it neccessary to tell me he's watching me. I hang up. He calls back. I panic. Mom and my father have been gone for only 10 minutes, and will stay gone for a good while longer. If they had had a cell phone I could have called them and they could have rushed home before some random guy knocked on the front door. My mom (who probably doesn't remember this incident) found me curled in a ball underneath the kitchen phone, completely losing my shit.
Of course, only the super-mega-rich had cell phones then, and at that point in technology those cell phones were roughly the size and weight of a cinderblock. They had SHOULDER BAGS to carry the behemoths.
Anyway, it was just one of those random thoughts that occured to me. I think I might need to get out more.
--Little Bird s just rambling along
Remember life before cell phones? Do you really?? I hadn't until I watched something on TV last night. Something with kids and a car wreck. Anyway, I had thought that if they had only had a cell phone the pretty lady wouldn't have died. Of course if she hadn't died, there would be no movie. So then I tried to think about a time in my childhood when a cell phone would have come in handy.
So I was about 10ish, I had to have been under 12 'cause my folks were still together. My parents had gone for a walk. I had opted to stay home (walks with the 'rents were unbelievably boring at that age) by myself. This had to have been one of the very first times I was ever allowed to be home alone. Ok, so I've been alone for all of ten minutes and the phone rings. It's some creep who feels it neccessary to tell me he's watching me. I hang up. He calls back. I panic. Mom and my father have been gone for only 10 minutes, and will stay gone for a good while longer. If they had had a cell phone I could have called them and they could have rushed home before some random guy knocked on the front door. My mom (who probably doesn't remember this incident) found me curled in a ball underneath the kitchen phone, completely losing my shit.
Of course, only the super-mega-rich had cell phones then, and at that point in technology those cell phones were roughly the size and weight of a cinderblock. They had SHOULDER BAGS to carry the behemoths.
Anyway, it was just one of those random thoughts that occured to me. I think I might need to get out more.
--Little Bird s just rambling along
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