Fin

http://www.zyzzyva.org/2012/04/05/margaret-weatherford-1966-2012/

Fucked Update

Once upon a time, I wrote this:

http://justaswesuspected.blogspot.com/2008/05/happiest-blog-post-ever-sincerely.html

That's over now.

Making My Day

So, I've been posting on a contentious thread at another blog where my handle is linked to my craptacular blog. Thought I'd check in for the first time in over a month. (Yeah. Sorry, all you minions of mine.)

Anyway, the first thing I noticed was the latest posts on my blogroll. Okay -- a buncha stuff I've already read, and then, the greatest post title ever from phibetakitten: ass menagerie.

Dear Lord

My son has a portable game device that inexplicably has an alarm one can set. He set it. That's why I'm up at 5:21 on a Saturday morning. What does one do at 5:22 on a Saturday morning when one is slightly hungover and doesn't want to wake anyone? One turns on the East Coast feed of Food Network.

And then one sees the horror that is Sandra Lee. And she's saying, "One package of chocolate cake mix [pours in bowl] and one can of cherry cola [pours in bowl]." And one thinks, "I'm still asleep, and this is my nightmare."

Sometimes, It's a Link.

All I can say is this enraged me. And motivated me to do more for women's rights.

http://pasadenaweekly.com/cms/story/detail/babies_bibles/7127/

Inappropriate Animals

This is a late, cheap birthday present to phibetakitten.

I went to Earth Fair in Balboa Park today with my brother, his two sons, and my son. Before I suffered heat stroke and had to humiliate myself by asking to go home early before we'd been able to do anything for the Earth other than collect a whole bunch of well-meaning pamphlets written on dead trees, I saw these inappropriate animals:

Two black standard poodles with really long fur wearing animal-print visors.
One Pomeranian with 24-square cubic furlongs of fur standing out on end.
Two puppies falling about five feet from a backpack onto the promenade.
One "freaky bug," as so described by my nephew.

When we got back to my house, the following inappropriate animal drama*ensued.

Scene: Youngest nephew and my son play out in the backyard. Oldest nephew gets up to no good in house. Bro and I collapse on family room furniture, making "uuuuunnnngggghhh" noises.

Youngest nephew on patio (YNOP) to my son: Dude! Never ride this bike again!
My son: What?
YNOP: Never ride this bike again! It has a black widow!
Me to Bro: Uh . . .
Bro (already getting up): Yeah. I'm on it.
YNOP to my son: I'll get a cup.
Me: Uhhhh!
Bro to YNOP: Get away! Let me check this out.
Bro: Yep! He's right!
Me: I'll get bug spray! I'll get oven mitts! I'll get you a bulletproof hazmat suit and build a bomb shelter underground for the remains!
Bro (coming in door): What? I got rid of it.
Me (astonished): How?
Bro: I squished it. With my foot.
Me: Weren't you afraid it would run up your leg and KILL YOU?!?
Bro (scoffing): No.
Me: I would have been.
Bro (disgusted): I know.
YNOP to my son: That was a black widow.
My son: We get them all the time.

*Some occurrences embellished for dramatic effect.

Another Letter

Dear Media,

For the record, I too think Michelle Obama is very attractive and well dressed. But that is exactly as much time and energy I need to expend on that thought. And it was probably too much time to actually report on that subject in the news, for heaven's sake.

I know Mrs. Obama is just a girl, but she also has a fabulous education, an interesting and impressive career, thoughts and opinions of her own, and very possibly some ideas about how to make positive change in this country. Perhaps we could hear about that sometime.

Regards,
People Who Think

The Economy Sucks

Unfortunately, some people I really like and respect were laid off today. And, naturally, to top it off, too many of the idiots got to stay.

For the record, I work for one of the industries that's supposed to be darn near recession-proof. And the layoffs and cost-cutting measures are nowhere near insignificant. This shit is bad, people. And it's brought to you by bad people. Who are getting richer even as we speak.

One More Thing

Dear celebrities (and everyone else),

If you feel the need to start your statement with "I'm not racist/sexist/ableist/homophobic/etc., but . . . " the very next thing you say is whatever you said you're not 99.98 percent of the time.

Where the hell have I been?

Okay. You know how sometimes you're scared of your mail? Because maybe some overdue bills are there, or letters from the lover you don't like anymore, or maybe even some stuff from PETA, and you don't support them anymore? Well, that's how I've been feeling about my blog.

And you know how sometimes you go through some stuff, maybe at work, maybe at home, that might be great comedy if you can look at it through the proper lens, but that good lens isn't working right now, and you can only see it through the unfunny crap spectacles and you don't want to share it, because it's not entertaining?

And maybe you don't want to answer the phone, because you don't know if it's friend or foe, and maybe you're ninety percent sure it's friend, but you just don't know?

Well, that's how I've been feeling about my blog.

But I think I'm ready. Again. To try to be interesting. As if I ever were.

Join the Impact

I encourage all my friends and family to join the international protest against California's hateful and discriminatory Proposition 8. Don't let the malefactors win. Show your support, and maybe we can educate the ignorant.

http://jointheimpact.com/

VICTORY!

America, you did the right thing. I know we have a lot of work to do, but today I am rocking my new short hair and my new black president. And I have every hope that Ms. Obama is going to be as strong an advocate for women as Ms. Clinton.

California bigots, I invite you to fuck right off, but you are not going to harsh my high.

Shameful Confession

So, I basically haven't eaten at McDonald's for years because a) I don't like it and b) everything there has ten million calories. And I know that a) should preclude b), but in the past, it didn't always, because sometimes Mickey D's was just too convenient and cheap. It wasn't until I decided that if I'm going to "spend" 1700 calories on one meal, that meal had better rock my world rather than be just tolerable, that I really left McDonald's (and most fast food) behind.

Fast forward many years to when my son is introduced (by my MOM) to McDonald's. Now I basically have to go to McDonald's a couple times a month to get Happy Meals (i.e., food that gets thrown away and a really crappy plastic toy made by slave children in China). If I'm hungry too, I usually grab something for myself somewhere else, like the French bakery nearby my local McDonald's.

Today, my son wanted to eat at McDonald's so he could play in the (also craptacular) play structure because he hasn't had enough exposure to flesh-eating bacteria lately. I didn't think I could get away with bringing my own sandwich to a "restaurant," so I resolved to try to find something to eat at McDonald's.

I settled on this. The southern-style crispy chicken sandwich is a fried piece of chicken breast on a bun with a pickle. And, to their credit, McDonald's now provides easy access to nutritional info at their locations, so I knew in advance that the sandwich is 400 calories, which I deemed reasonable for something I figured would be bland and unmemorable, but filling.

Imagine my surprise when I took a bite and liked it. I mean, I'm not saying this was some kind of delectable gourmet snack, but it was tasty, and here's why: The chicken itself tastes like pickles! This totally appeals to the seriously trailer-parkish part of my palate that enjoys the occasional bowl of ramen noodles with melted American cheese slices, pickle sandwiches on soft white bread, and Tater Tots.

So now I'm looking forward to the next time the junky toys change genre at Mickey D's and Chase wants to get his next Happy Meal. I'm not going to make a habit of it, of course, because there's probably a ton of junk like growth hormones or DNA-altering herbs and spices in there, and because I recently renewed my commitment to pesca-vegetarianism, but, dang that pickle-chicken made me say yum!

Open Letter to Rachel Ray

Dear cacklin' Rachel Ray,

Everyone knows what nutmeg is.

SHUT UP already.

Thanks,
Everyone

My Life on the (WT)F List

I went to Comic Con today. I'm going to post a longer entry with pictures later, but I can't do it now because my feet hurt.*

Anyway, every other time I've attended Comic Con, I've seen at least a couple celebrities -- usually minor ones, like Erin Gray, Lou Ferrigno, and random Playboy bunnies. The last four times I've gone, I've had close encounters with Gene Simmons.

Well, today, I saw just one. Stephen Fucking Baldwin. And he was signing autographs and sort of roaring at people. I thought about taking a picture, but then realized he wouldn't know I was taking it to show people how ridiculous he looked today and would just assume I loooooove heeeeem. So I didn't.

But you have to believe me, I saw him and he was acting like an idiot. And he loves Jesus. Just so you know.

*How does sore feet prevent me from blogging? I would have to walk a couple feet to the table to get my camera so I can download the pix. I don't see that happening today.

Oh yes. Food. (Trader Joe's Lemon-Pepper Paparadelle)

I love citrus. Citrus fruits are my favorites, with pears a close second. I mean, I'm not gonna turn away strawberries and nectarines during the summer, but citrus fruits are so versatile and full of pop, they enhance any kind of cuisine.

One of my favorite recent discoveries is Trader Joe's dried lemon-pepper paparadelle. I've had citrus-infused pastas before, but this paparadelle has a super bright lemon hit, along with a nice savory black pepper finish. I've had it with acidic sauces, like arrabiatta, but I thought it would really get along great with a cream sauce.

Problem is, in the summer, I don't want the heaviness of a real cream sauce, and I definitely don't want my stove running any longer than necessary. So, I did a little thinking, and this is what I came up with.

Trader Joe's Lemon-Pepper Paparadelle with Ricotta and Creme Fraiche Sauce

1 cup part-skim ricotta
1/2 cup creme fraiche
1 to 3 garlic cloves, minced
1/3 cup Italian parsley, finely chopped
1 pound lemon-pepper paparadelle, cooked al dente
1/3 to 1/2 cup pasta water
salt and pepper to taste

Put paparadelle on to boil in salted water.
Meanwhile, in a mixing bowl, stir together ricotta, creme fraiche, garlic, parsley, salt and pepper.
Once pasta is al dente, drain, reserving at least 1/2 cup of water.
Put pasta back in cooking pan and add ricotta mixture, tossing to incorporate.
Add pasta water and stir and toss until sauce is smooth and creamy.

Serve pasta with grated parmesan and parsley sprigs.

Recipe: Lime smoked salmon with avocado

A recipe that's been in my repertoire for years, and happens to be one of my mom's favorites, is grilled salmon with lime, chive, and avocado vinaigrette. It's super simple, delicious, and I think it came from a special issue of Bon Appetit magazine about eighteen years ago. I can't find the original recipe anywhere anymore, so I'm just going to claim it as my own until the copyright police find me. Heck -- who knows how I've changed it over the years? Anyway, the fun part is making the leftover recipe (which will be my next post. probably).

Lime-Grilled Salmon with Avocado Vinaigrette

Adjust amounts to fit your needs. In this case, we had too much salmon for one meal, which is why the leftover dish came about.

I used an outdoor gas grill and hickory chips for smoking. I'm sure a charcoal grill will also make this pleasantly smoky. If you wish to use a grill pan or indoor grill, it's still a delicious meal without the smoky taste.

Salmon

If you are using an outdoor gas grill, set your woodchips up for smoking as directed.

2 pounds wild-caught salmon, fileted
2 to 3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
kosher or sea salt
fresh ground pepper
1/8 to 1/4 cup olive oil

With the salmon skin-side down, sprinkle the lime juice over the salmon. Sprinkle salt and pepper on top. Drizzle olive oil over, and rub mixture into salmon until well coated. Let sit for ten to twenty minutes.

Grill fish until it bounces back to the touch (about eight minutes on medium-high on a gas grill).

Sauce

2 medium avocados, diced
1/4 cup lime juice
zest of one lime
1/3 cup of olive oil
1 tablespoon finely chopped chives (or more to taste)
salt and pepper to taste

Combine all ingredients in a small bowl. Let rest several minutes (while fish cooks). Taste, and adjust seasoning as necessary.

When fish is done, serve with several spoonfuls of sauce on top. Accept the kudos when your mom acts like you're a big chef!

Here, It's Peace.

One of the really wonderful things that has happened to me in the last couple of years is I've met a really interesting, intelligent, and artistic woman through my son's friendship with a schoolmate. She's a thoughtful liberal, and a funny and complex person, which can be a little rare in the environment in which I live.

One of the really crappy things that has happened to me over the last couple of years is my situation at a job I would otherwise really like. But that changed last week.

I have been trying to see Michele's show since it started, but a combination of stress and circumstance kind of kept me away. In fact, it kept me from a lot of fun activities I would have liked to attend. Though I have seen some of the works she exhibited in the show (and maybe that's not the right word for it -- I am not a visual artist) in her home and online, I knew it wasn't the same as seeing them properly hung, with statements and context. I already knew I find her work powerful, but when the artist is standing there holding the work up before you, it is (for me) difficult to lose myself to the experience.

Though the craptacularness of my job changed by the end of last week, there were still a lot of unanswered questions, mixed emotions, and general disbelief. I walked out of work on Friday afternoon with a sort of surreal potential for celebration.

Saturday was another interesting day. I will blog about that later.

Sunday, I woke up knowing Michele was going to take down her art at 3:00 pm. It was my priority to see it before it went away. I was sad I wasn't going to see the show on a day when Michele was there to talk about it.

Michele's exhibition was titled "Here, It's Peace." I had talked with her before about the meaning of that, and I know it's meant both literally and not literally. Many of the pieces for this collection have a sort of desert camouflage motif, but even though they evoke the current combat situation in the Middle East, they do not literally depict it. And, in fact, the images are also meant to (as I understand it) evoke other types of war and peace. For example, they might suggest the "war" of an illegal alien crossing the border versus the "peace" of a family in San Diego enjoying a day at the beach. Or the "war" of a woman or children who are abused by a violent patriarch versus the "peace" of a happy marriage.

As I say, I have seen many of the works before in other contexts, and always, I have been aware of the juxtaposition of the conflict and the harmonious. But I have always related more to the socio-political implications of the works, especially with regard to the USA's current conflicts.

Sunday, I woke up with an invigorated heart and sense of self. I was ready to let the past go, and give my energy back to my personal life, my friends, and most of all, my son. After entertaining him for a few hours, I set off to see Michele's exhibition.

The San Diego Art Institute is located in Balboa Park. It was very busy, so I had to park far away from the SDAI. For some reason, I felt in a hurry, and dashed off, noticing nothing around me and passing pedestrians left and right, to get to the SDAI.

I got to the SDAI and went downstairs to see Michele's exhibition. It was a rare hot and humid day in San Diego, and I relished the cool quietness that was the exhibition room. Michele's exhibition was the first thing I saw.

I'm not sure I saw the show in the order Michele wanted me to see it, but, for me, the order in which I saw it meant everything. One of the first things that struck me was this painting. There was a poem by Ivan Sigg accompanying the painting that moved me, and I hope Michele will give me a link to it. What really struck me was that for me, the politics were in the background. They were there, but this painting reminded me that personal relationships are what's important. What transcends the politics. As I moved through the rest of the works, I saw things I hadn't seen before. I saw Michele's relationship to her motherhood, which is so similar to mine. I saw her fears and her bravado. I saw and felt orange where before I had seen only camouflage. I saw so much more than I had before.

Note: I'm still processing her piece on Ingrid Betancourt and cannot comment on it now.

Because I was by myself, I could sit on a bench and really let the pieces speak to me. I did that for awhile before I moved on to the pieces behind me.

Those pieces seemed to get more hopeful.

I must say that every piece I saw seemed to speak to me in a new way, and I kept thinking for each piece, "This is my favorite." But then I came to this: http://www.micheleguieu.com/art/2008_atimetoheal09.htm

This was the piece I felt summed up everything I was feeling. It's beautiful, it's powerful, it speaks to me about my motherhood, my nurturing, and my conflicts. I stood before it for a long time, letting it draw me in. The most important part for me is it spoke of my relationship to Michele and of our mutual relationship to our kids, our culture, and our concerns.

If you don't know Michele Guieu's work, you should.

And this is what I wrote to her soon after seeing her show: https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7032908168451246317&postID=5644467662597390856

Goodbye Boss Wack

If you are among my legion of fans who check my blog daily for a new post (Hiya, Gumbeauxgal!), you might have noticed I've been AWOL for, like, two months. There's actually a good reason for this: For about two years, I've been dealing with an increasingly hostile situation at work that recently became intolerable. In a nutshell, my boss was an idiot.


Oh, I know what you're thinking. "Oh, come on! It's the same all across corporate America. Everyone's boss is an idiot, and the same problems exist in every company, and you're just a whiner, or this is your very first job."


Ahem. I'm sorry to disillusion you, but this situation was truly so. fucking. special. (Apologies to Radiohead).

Over the last two years, this boss nearly toppled our entire organization. It almost would have been easier to take if Boss Wack were evil. Instead, BW is pathetically unqualified to perform the work expected. And, unfortunately, BW was too incompetent to carry out the very good advice (even specific instructions) of the many employees who wanted to see the organization (and by association, BW) succeed.

As the situation declined over the years, several of BW's employees developed both emotional and physical symptoms of stress, including digestive trouble, chronic migraines, high blood pressure, anxiety, and depression. Of course, our loved ones advised us to simply "leave work at work" and detach our emotions from the office. Unfortunately, we are all highly ethical, committed to our customers, and invested in quality. Our work is too big a part of our lives to be able to compartmentalize in that way.

Numerous complaints to the higher-ups and traditional HR channels resulted in naught . . . until last week.

As of last Friday, BW is no longer our boss. Several of those who remain likened it to getting out of an abusive relationship, because that's what it essentially was. There was obviously no physical abuse, but there was emotional abuse, and many levels of inappropriateness. None of us has experienced anything quite like this before, and we all have many years of experience in corporate America.

So, the tides have turned, the wall has come crashing down, and a bunch of good people are suddenly happy campers with the weight of the world off our shoulders. We don't know exactly what will happen next, but the future is rife with opportunity and hope.

And that means I have my energy for my personal life back again. I can be happy and funny, and, of course, brilliant again. Let the post-athon commence!

Happiest Blog Post Ever. Sincerely.

A few weeks ago, one of my dearest friends, M, called me at work after being MIA on e-mail for longer than is usual. I picked up, and asked how she was. Instead of saying, "Fine," she asked if I had a moment to talk, so I knew right away something was up.

M has always been very health-conscious. She is fit, she exercises almost every day, she avoids anything even remotely suspected of being carcinogenic, she monitors her cholesterol intake, and she eats bean burritos with remarkable regularity (no pun intended). And she's only 42. So, how in the hell is it possible I was listening to her tell me she had a cancerous polyp in her colon?

I don't know if I found the news particularly shocking because I love M so much, or because I just assumed her healthy lifestyle rendered her impervious to serious illness. In any case, all I could think were such nonsensical things as "Why her? It isn't fair! How could this happen to her?" As though it would be more fair or comprehensible if it happened to -- I don't know -- my son's teacher? My aunt? The woman in front of me in the supermarket line?

So, there it was. It wasn't fair. It isn't fair when it happens to anyone, but M is close to me, so this time, I care. A lot.

M told me the next step would be surgery to remove the part of the colon with the polyp. The surgery is major: They have to cut her open. It's not something that can be done with a scope and a tiny incision. Plus, only after the surgery would they know the severity of the situation.

Fast forward a couple of weeks. M had her surgery last Thursday, and the procedure went well. Astonishingly, the good news came back only two days later: The surgery was completely successful, they were able to completely remove the polyp, and no cancer had spread beyond the part of the colon they removed. As of today, she is home, feeling much better, and hopped up on vicodin.

M said she feels almost like it didn't even happen. Like the pain and worry of the surgery is a small price to pay for the fantastic outcome. I danced when she told me. I've never been so relieved.

I know I will have to face my friends' mortality someday, but I can go back to believing that day is far away. At least for awhile.