Archive for the '"Oh night divine"' Category

Oh days divine

December 28, 2007 | Filed under: "Oh night divine", Familia, Va-cay-cay-cay

“A vacation is having nothing to do and all day to do it in.” ~Robert Orben

Have you ever noticed that going days and days on end of doing absolutely nothing that requires brain power tends to become physically draining? The only thing I’ve actually had to do for myself in roughly 10 days is remember to check in for my return flight from Oklahoma City, which was completed with aplomb. My next most difficult task was during my Holiday party when I had to convert from wine glass to ceramic mug just so I wouldn’t confuse my drink with others. Seriously, the sum of my life and decision making has been What type of iPod should I get and how many times is too many times to go to Sonic? That is all.

Christmas came and went sans fanfare and without a complete sensory blowout from way too much going on at once. I like to keep things very simple so that I can focus on just one thing whereas too much leaves me confused and panicked. I requested one thing; Snow tires. And unless snow tires fit into a Banana Republic box, I did not get them. Which is fine because I did get a tea stirring stick that holds loose tea but on the box it looks like some new fangled apparatus for toking on the reefer. In fact when I opened it, the first words out of my mouth to my mother were “My! How progressive you’ve become”.

I like it like this, when things are simple enough to be described as ‘good’ and no one asks 75 questions while trying to find the hidden meaning behind a one syllable answer. I like when things are just as they are.

I shall leave you with my favorite moment: My younger brother, G, first meeting my niece Melissa. He was holding her and she was doing that 5 month old I want to get down and stand thing by kicking him repeatedly in the stomach. So I sat there and watched G say “Oh you want to get down? Here you go”. So he set her down and decided that since she, at 5 months old, wanted to stand she could obviously do so without assistance because she apparently has the physically prowess of the average 16 month old. She immediately toppled over and spent the rest of the afternoon doing this baby sob thing that simultaneously broke my heart and made me laugh. When retelling this story to my mother she informed me that when I was three months old my father liked to stand me on the bed and then let me fall over. He would do this repeatedly as a fun little game. When my mother found out she flipped her shit and that was one of their first major fights over parenting. Apparently my mother was a little sensitive that her three month old was being tossed on a bed. When she told me it was like a little ‘Aha’ moment in my head. For suddenly the past act of my father tossing my three-month old tiny self on the bed explains a lot of things. Like I don’t know, half the content of this here blog.

Sporadic verbosity

December 17, 2007 | Filed under: "Oh night divine", Great moments in narcissism, Planes trains and automobiles

“In everyone’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out.  It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being.  We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.”  ~Albert Schweitzer

I hate to be a downer but every time someone asks me how I am or how things are going I shrug my shoulders, sigh heavily, and say “It’s OK”. I sound like Eeyore and anyone who crosses my path half expects my tail to fall off or for me to keel over due to an extreme bout of ennui. I can’t even get into the spirit of the season without it all feeling extremely forced and obvious. I’ve baked cookies while listening to Ella Fitzgerald with a fire crackling in the background and yet I would look outside at the snow, the thing that signifies the loveliness that should come this time of year, and the only thing I wanted to do was beat myself in the head with a crowbar. Nothing says “Joy” like blunt force trauma.

I’ve actually kept most everything to myself – especially as of late - because I don’t want to be a bother and I’m boring and most people find whining to be abhorrent. So I stay silent. In general though I tend to be shy and quiet. Some call it aloof but I like to refer to it as observing my surroundings intently so that later I can write about all the drunk dumbshits within five miles. So my rather subdued behavior ends up being advantageous.What really ends up happening is that I keep it all inside, bottled up and under pressure. And much like a bottle of Brut, once the cork is popped, everything comes pouring out. Sometimes it’s messy and I end up with verbal diarrhea and tell my life story to some unsuspecting friend and other times I try to let a little out at a time so as not to frighten everyone away. And if you were wondering, several glasses of wine might cause things to spill out as well and suddenly I’m telling people about shit that happened in 1995 and apparently I am not over an incident involving my brother, a bike and a pool cue.

God willing, barring any ill winter and something I’ve been trying to keep from discussing due to jinxing it all but I just cannot hold it inside: I will be going to Oklahoma City for a brief vacation. Susan thinks that it is just to drink wine and bask in her presence when in reality so that I can unload all of the shit that has been plaguing me for months and months and months. Thankfully I’m being quite nice to her and writing everything out in list form; that way I know what I want to say and it will keep my thoughts in place. It will be a lovely way to spend the pre-Holiday: Me talking endlessly about myself, because I don’t get to do enough of that already and Susan sitting there possibly bored to death but oh so very happy that someone came to visit her in one of the reddest states in the country. For nothing says “Merry Christmas” like slowly killing the ones you love with loquaciousness.

BFFE

December 9, 2007 | Filed under: "Oh night divine", Humdrum, Just Add Alcohol

“When the wine goes in, strange things come out.” ~Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller

For nothing says “we’re now going to string seven strands of lights and pretend to be happy, damn it” like a tall glass of cabernet sauvignon.

Eggnog; it’s not two words by the way

December 5, 2007 | Filed under: "Oh night divine", "The Pot Licker"

“Isn’t it funny that at Christmas something in you gets so lonely for - I don’t know what exactly, but it’s something that you don’t mind so much not having at other times.” ~Kate L. Bosher

In biology we were taught a lesson on fermentation. While my classmates were all fascinated by the possibilities of leaving a cup of juice out to make their very own Tropicana orange juice flavored alcohol, I was wholly unimpressed. For me biology meant cell reproduction and the formation of humans which put me on track towards a successful career in obstetrics and gynecology or perhaps midwifery if my mother got her way. Sadly, that line of work involved something like 17 years of schooling and homework and I am not really a sit down in a classroom type of person.. Nor am I person who enjoys thinking in absolutes, which is what following my deep-rooted passion of delivering babies would entail. This is how I ended up majoring in four social sciences, because I hated the fact that three plus three must equal six. Why can’t we think about it for a bit and maybe have several different answers that could all be correct? Why can’t everything be answered via loads of bullshit?

 

I didn’t like alcohol and that was ok because I had ten Judy Blume books to see me through the hard times like my lacking breast tissue and poor wardrobe. In time I made up for the former while the latter is still a little on the pathetic side. Before I go on another tangent about my cleavage vs. wardrobe issue, I’ll continue with my story about how I disliked alcohol and imagine my surprise when I learned that eggnog, the most delectable thing in the history of Holiday treats, had alcohol in it. No one identified what the alcohol in egg nog was so I spent years assuming that someone would dump a vat of Coors Light into my creamy bowl of love thereby ruining it forever with the disgusting taste of crappy beer.

Blah blah blah, I got some sense and literacy and now extol the virtues of grapes in their fermented form and I could write a book on the million and one things that alcohol could and should be added to just to make it taste a little better. I could also write a book composed of the world’s longest run-on sentences. But once again, I digress.

Alcohol, yes? I drink it but after several years of being so ill I thought I was hanging precariously to the threads of my short lived life due to hangover, I stopped drinking hard alcohol unless it’s Ketel One or Grey Goose vodka. I stick to wine for the most part and as of late, I pour a glass, take a sip and 10 minutes later I’m drooling into my flannel sheets. During college I learned the hard way about mixing several types of alcohol. All I’m saying is tread lightly. Sipping is the way to go once you combine brandy, rum and peach brandy. Hell, smell it and you’ll run to the nearest church basement for an AA meeting. But never fear because it’s chock full of deliciousness and you won’t even notice that you’ve consumed three types of alcohol and 800 calories in roughly 45 seconds.

The recipe is courtesy of Sheryl at Papernapkin and was actually intended for a tree-trimming event that I ended up missing because I was too busy trying not to physically harm drivers on the New Jersey turnpike. This vat of eggnog will be the first in several Holiday themed recipes. Feel free to thank me later and I’ll link to whomever posted the recipes first so that you know who to bill after your stint at rehab. Yields…um…several mug fulls of nutmegy goodness.

Eggnog:

12 eggs, separated

2 cups sugar

1 pint brandy

1/2 pint light rum

1/2 pint peach brandy

3 pints whole milk

1 pint heavy cream

Nutmeg (optional)

Beat the egg yolks and sugar together until thick. Slowly stir in the brandy, rum, peach brandy, milk and cream. Refrigerate until thoroughly chilled and pour into a punch bowl. Beat egg whites until stiff, and fold ever so gently into the eggnog. If you want to, grate a little nutmeg on top. If you take this to a Christmas party people will fawn over you, and you will be the hit of the party. And if not, you won’t care because you will be having a lovely lovely time all by your own self.