Archive for July, 2008

Wearing Shades

July 30, 2008 | Filed under: Fotografias, Va-cay-cay-cay, Whoopdie Doo

“Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability.” ~Sam Keen

Winter heading into spring was hard. Terribly, gut wrenching, heartbreakingly difficult. To the point where it physically hurts to allow my mind go back to March or April. I’ve been pretty good at keeping my bipolar cycles at bay and not projecting them onto the world every few months which is something I’ll discuss in the near future. But some days were far more difficult than others and to have it all exacerbated by being so fucking livid and feeling like a failure; well that made me the most wonderful person to be around ever. That fire that was shooting out of my eyeballs was actually cotton candy rolled around rainbows.

I was standing in the water today in Aquinnah and I said in a sing-song voice “My future’s so bright, I gotta wear shades”. And my mother looked at me and asked what I was talking about for apparently she spent 1987 busy or something trying to keep me from choking the hell out of my baby brother. Anyway, let’s just say I’ve been going between some kick ass aviators and the most absurd, but they totally work, pink sunglasses for a few weeks now.

Speaking of Aquinnah and vacation. Here’s how it’s been thus far or at least from where I see it:

Me: Do you want to go hiking and take photos?

La Madre: Hell no.

Me: Do you want to go kayaking for a few hours?

La Madre: Fuck no.

Me: Do you want to wave jump and be sucked down by giant swells and get sand in your crotch?

La Madre: Ok, I was never going to tell you this, but you’re adopted.

In search of a snugglebug

July 28, 2008 | Filed under: Humdrum

“Babies are such a nice way to start people.” ~Don Herrold

Me (via Twitter): I have a sudden urge for baby snuggling. Anyone have a baby I can borrow?

Jodi: Not a baby, but want a stubborn toddler?

Me: Baby…not toddler. I mean toddlers are cool and all but they don’t like to snuggle. They’re more interested in flailing their bodies about the room and screaming  bloody murder because you gave them a yellow cup and not a blue cup and the world will die and the terrorists will win if they do not have the blue cup.

Jodi: Are you in my house?

This Calls for Cupcakes

July 25, 2008 | Filed under: "The Pot Licker"

“Life is uncertain.  Eat dessert first. ” ~Ernestine Ulmer

It was about a month ago when I went to Martha’s Vineyard for the weekend and remarked that that trip had turned the LOSE YOUR SHIT switch in my head to the off position. And there it remained in the upright and locked position until the last several weeks slowly unraveled every lose thread in my brain. It’s as if there was that one tiny piece of string that begged to be tugged but once it was tugged there went a perfect hemline.

Since that weekend I’ve been to Denver, Chicago, San Francisco and I just left New Orleans. It’s that last trip that makes me bite my tongue when lamenting how hard my life is right now and how much stress I am under and how I’d really like to just bathe in a large bath of Swedish Fish while a butler fans me and brings me bottles of Peroni and beignets. Because if I want to see or feel hard, the people of the Gulf Coast of Louisiana can show me hard.

I go back to the Vineyard later this week during my mandatory vacation. I think it is forced upon us so that we don’t get all disgruntle and ornery or feel the need to take a swan dive into the Hudson with weights strapped to our ankles. The last time I went it was for my mother’s birthday and after she begged and pleaded with me to come out there, I brought with me a large bottle of Prosecco – her favorite – and a dozen lemon-raspberry cupcakes. Because love means willingly grating lemon peels for five hours and losing a knuckle in the process. It’s like please ignore the stubs of my once lovely fingers and enjoy the refreshing lemon flavor and the surprise bit of raspberry in the center. These are my new favorite cupcakes not just because they proved to my mother that I have other talents, besides being annoying as fuck. I think the only reason she won’t disown me now is because when she says JUMP, I say HOW HIGH and then provide her with goodies. I’ve been meaning to write about these for weeks because they are divine and easy to make and are a little bit of comfort and heaven topped with a fresh raspberry.

I think that right now I deserve cupcakes but after the last three weeks of enjoying French fries and beer as a meal, I’d much prefer a vat of lettuce, avocado and tomatoes. But I am totally not kidding about the Swedish Fish bath.

Lemon-Rasperry Cupcakes (from Epicurious) (Yields 12)

¾ cup (1 ½ sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
3 cups powdered sugar, divided
4 ½ teaspoons finely grated lemon peel, divided
2 large eggs
1 ¼ cups self-rising flour
¼ cup buttermilk
4 tablespoons fresh lemon juice, divided
12 tablespoons plus 1 tablespoon seedless raspberry jam
Fresh raspberries (for garnish)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees (F). Line 12 muffin cups with paper liners. Using electric mixer, beat butter, 1 ½ cups powdered sugar, and 3 teaspoons lemon peel in large bowl until blended, then beat until fluffy and pale yellow. Add eggs one at a time, beating to blend after each addition. Beat in half of flour. Add buttermilk and 2 tablespoons lemon juice; beat to blend. Beat in remaining flour.

Drop 1 rounded tablespoonful batter into each muffin liner. Spoon one teaspoon raspberry jam over. Cover with remaining batter, dividing equally.

Bake cupcakes until tester inserted halfway into centers comes out clean, about 23 minutes. Cool cupcakes in pan on rack. Meanwhile, whisk remaining 1 ½ cups powdered sugar, two tablespoons lemon juice, and 1 ½ teaspoons lemon peel in small bowl. Spoon half of icing over 6 cupcakes. Whisk one tablespoon raspberry jam into remaining icing. Spoon over remaining cupcakes. Let stand until icing sets, about 30 minutes. Garnish with raspberries.

Just in time for vacation!

July 24, 2008 | Filed under: BlogHer, Inebriated prose

Updated: I think we all learned a very valuable lesson here; if you link to someone directly that person will end up finding your post. Even if it is innocuous and you’re speaking of someone with only the highest regard that person will find it and might not think of it the same way. I fucking hate blog drama. I mean it can be entertaining as hell but I, personally, don’t want to be involved. That said I don’t want to deal with people hurting my feelings because I look at blogging as my fun and safe space and I really just don’t want bullshit for myself or for anyone else. It’s really that simple. So Maria and I are fine and lovely and I’m sure she has great taste in footwear. See? Look. Love. Awww:

here was a paragraph here in which I attempted to express how starstruck  by Heather B. I was, but didn’t do it adequately, as it seems to have given others the impression that I was saying something negative about her. That was NOT my intention. In this case, she is my Dooce, and I am her The Bloggess. I would never post anything negative about another blogger, ever, and definitely not the one that I adore the most. Heather B., I am extremely, extremely sorry. I didn’t mean to lump you in with the ‘mean girls’ - I meant that you are such a big fuckin’ deal to me that I couldn’t work up the nerve to say hello, not that you gave off any sort of…anything bad at all, because you didn’t. You still are a very big deal to me. Hence this replacement paragraph. I am so embarrassed and I hope you’ll accept my apology.

I am still going on vacation (have you ever done three conferences in three weeks in three different cities? The fucking pain, y’all) because I have to see my mother and my best friend and people who in real life would say “Oh my God, Heather Barmore?! You want stories about Heather Barmore?? Oooh shit! Pull up a chair and relax a little because I have some stories for you”.

[/update]

I’m going on vacation next week. Saturday to be precise. And my god, I do have some impeccable timing for I seem to be a mean bitch and now that I’ve heard it from several different people, it’s practically certifiable. I’m thinking that this gem takes the prize for the most absurd thing about me. That is until someone calls me a right wing neo-con who loves ribs:

I didn’t work up the balls to go over and say hello to Heather B. She had, like, this force field around her that I thought I’d run smack into if I came too close. I was just not important enough to penetrate it I don’t think. And I’m pretty sure she gave me the death stare a few times. Although it could have been all in my head or in retaliation for the creepy, longing googly eyes I was probably giving her the entire weekend. *sigh* Next year. Maybe. Probably not. I’m not worthy.

Just wow. I’m going to drag my pretentious ass through NOLA and then to Martha’s Vineyard.

I’ll leave you with this conversation from this evening after tossing beads from a balcony on Bourbon Street:

Him: What’s your name?

Me: Heather

Him: Heather?!?! That’s a white girl’s name. I’ve never heard of a sister named Heather. Where are you from?

Me: Um, Upstate NY…

Him: Oh, Upstate NY, that’s where all those rich people live.

And gee, Louisiana, you’ve been swell. Thank you for aiding my self esteem. How much do I owe you for the free beer and random men who decided to flash me?

Friends like these

July 23, 2008 | Filed under: Humdrum

“A friend can tell you things you don’t want to tell yourself.”  ~Frances Ward Weller

Stara: “You know, when I read that post you did I thought it was funny. Like I said ‘oh, that’s funny’. But I didn’t like laugh out loud or anything. But when you read it, it was hilarious. Maybe you should just vlog.”

***

Me: I need to start mentally preparing myself for when you leave for China. How long will you be gone for? What if something insane or funny happens while you’re away?? What if I find out I’m pregnant while you’re away?? You’ll miss out.

Her: Maybe I should just stay here on the off chance that you might get pregnant. Or say something funny.