reason 5983 why i love melissa harris-perry

if you tuned into this morning's edition of the "melissa harris-perry show" on msnbc, then you (hopefully) caught this discussion about welfare and safety nets and, in what will probably be my favorite televised non-football related moment of the weekend, the mini-rant that starts at about 8:20 here:

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reading romance shouldn't be this difficult

yeah, yeah, i read romance novels. i've read them for years. i follow some of my favorite authors on twitter. i'm number 200-something on the library's waiting list for a book that doesn't come out until damn near thanksgiving. judge me all you want.

[note: the rest of this post will have all kinds of triggers about sexual assault/abuse, so if this is a sensitive topic for you, please stop reading now. kthx.]

i've been reading a romance series by susan mallery and, much to my delight, there have been some new titles this summer. i finally got my copy of the most recent one, "all summer long," last week from the library and started reading it a couple of days ago. normally, i can get through a romance novel in a couple of hours, tops, and in even less time if i'm able to read cover-to-cover w/o being interrupted.

this one, though, took me a while to get through. not because it's a bad novel, but b/c the struggles of the main female character brought back a lot of memories/issues. once upon a time, i wrote about some "bad touching" that happened to me when i was 8 or 9, and how i'd repressed that memory until i was in high school, and how the husband of my then-favorite cousin decided it'd be a good idea for us to watch some pr0n when i was 16 and while his wife and sons were in the other room, and how i ran out of the room and locked myself in the bathroom for as long as possible and how i didn't tell anyone in my family b/c i knew daddy or james or any other male relative would've done time for (attempted) murder even though i'm sure someone must've figured out something b/c i never ever went to that cousin's house again.

ok, so maybe i didn't previously write about that last part.

anyway (consider this a spoiler alert if you actually plan on reading this book), charlie, our heroine, was raped in college and has had a challenging time establishing intimacy. i'll spare you the details, but the process she goes through definitely has some parallels to what i went through (and at times still go through). it's heartbreaking and ultimately gratifying, to say the least. i can't tell you the last time i cried while reading a romance novel, but i definitely shed a few tears over this one.

i am so very thankful to susan (hey, i follow her on twitter, so i feel like i can be on a first name basis even though we've never met irl) for treating this subject with dignity and respect. if i was inclined to write reviews on amazon, i'd post this there, but i'm not and therefore it's here. susan, if you somehow manage to read this, please know that i've been a fan of yours for a few years now and i will be forever grateful to you for sharing charlie's story in such a powerful way. thank you.

books that have left me reeling - summer 2012 edition

it's no secret to anyone that i like to read. a lot. there's a book club/contest thing going on at work this summer and more than one person has dropped out after seeing just how many books (and accompanying points) i've added to my list since i started.

according to my spreadsheet, i've read 98 books so far in 2012. most of them were pretty uneventful. a few nonfiction ones introduced me to events/historical information i wasn't previously aware of. two novels in particular, though, made me ask some variation of "what the fuck?" and/or "are you fucking serious?" at least a dozen times while reading them, and i'm going to share those titles with you now.

the first: "gold" by chris cleave. i remember alternating between laughing hysterically at one page and within that same chapter, wanting to throw the book across the room and scream "what the fuck is going on?" not in a bad way, mind you - more in a "did this guy (meaning the author) really put these words in this order and omg i can't believe s/he (meaning a particular character) went there and i think my brain is going to asplode" kind of way. i like books that have that kind of impact on me.

i just finished reading the 2nd book, gillian flynn's "gone girl," a few minutes ago. oh my fucking fuck this fucking book is so fucking twisted that it fucking makes me want to say (ok, type) the word fuck in as many fucking ways as fucking possible in one fucking sentence. a couple of people on my twitter feed have read this and noted that it was definitely not a sunshine and kittens and lollipops kind of beach novel. i'm not exaggerating when i say that there are hundreds of people waiting to get this book from the library. last i checked, the wait list was at 1,500+ and counting. if i had to put money on it, i'd say that i've checked out and returned more copies of "gone girl" than any other book since i started at the library. and now i know what the fuss has been about. holy fucking shitballs. these characters are twisted and i kinda want a sequel even though no good can come of it whatsoever. and in about 9 hours, i'll be at work and my co-workers will want a review and i'll have to think of a sentence that doesn't involve the word fuck. i'll probably fail. fuck.

meanwhile, somewhere in my "waiting to be read" pile there's a book called zombies vs. unicorns. yes, i checked it out solely based on the title. i hope i'm not disappointed.

if you've read "gold" and/or "gone girl," please feel free to leave your proverbial two cents in the comments. read any other books lately that elicited a visceral reaction from you? let's talk about those, too. not right now, though. right now i need to go the fuck to sleep. g'night.

happy birthday, baby brother

james would have been 50 years old today. i know it's a bit odd to refer to him as my baby brother, considering that he was 14 years old when i was born, but that's kind of how i grew up thinking of him and therefore that's what sticks. lots of things stick when i look back on the admittedly complicated relationship james and i had. i'm going to share a few of them in this post and hopefully not dissolve into tears when i click "publish." i think (hope?) these will be new to y'all; if not, pretend like they are, mmkay?

cake batter -- the memories i have of my mother are relatively few and i cherish them more than...damn near anything, really. one of them involved her making a cake and me sneaking a taste from the bowl of batter. innocent enough, right? i couldn't wait to lick the spoon or the beaters from the mixer, b/c i was all of 4 or 5 and the concept of patience was lost on me, so i'd dip my finger(s) in the batter. usually i was somehow able to do this without getting busted, which, in hindsight, probably meant that mama was just choosing to overlook the breach.

not this time, though. this time, i'd forgotten that i was in the middle of a massive coloring project when i snuck a taste. i had marker ink all over my fingers and, yes, that ink somehow transferred into the cake batter. did i know this? nope. did i lie when mama asked if i'd put my fingers in the batter? absolutely. did i get called into the kitchen to be confronted with the evidence of my crime, only to be banished to my room to await my punishment? yup.

enter james. he somehow thought that i could convince our dear mother to spare the rod if i apologized. specifically, he thought if i wrote/drew her a letter saying that i was sorry and asking her not to whoop me, i might get off the hook. laughable now, but y'all know i sat right down and wrote my mother a letter anyway. i think it went something like "dear mama, i'm sorry, please don't whoop me, i love you."

yeah, mama whooped me anyway. i don't think james got off scot-free, either. but i love(d) the fact that he tried to help a sister out.

din da da



the first time i heard this song, i was in the kitchen at our old house. james' room was just off the kitchen and he was playing it. i don't know if it was on the radio or if he'd taped it or what, but i have this really vivid memory of looking in the fridge for something and being completely distracted by what i was hearing. again in hindsight, it was probably b/c this song was way different than the gospel that mama and daddy tended to listen to. on the flip side, james (and greg, and sylvester) also introduced me to smooth jazz (shoutout to wnua 95.5), and i'm reasonably sure that the first time i heard digital underground's "freaks of the industry" was on the radio in james' car. the internet says that "freaks of the industry" was released in 1990, so i was in high school by then and therefore not as impressionable as i could have been, i suppose.

space invaders -- when i was at the arcade the other night, i was all set to relive my childhood by playing duck hunt and shooting the shit out of that asshole dog, and i did, and that was fun. but then i saw space invaders, aka one of the first video games i learned how to play, and i got really excited...until i realized it was broken. womp. and yeah, james had an atari and i'd play space invaders and centipede for as long as he'd let me. before the other night, i hadn't played centipede in...god, at least a decade, if not longer. same goes for duck hunt, and yes, i shot at the dog a bazillion times. i hate that dog. i'm pretty sure everyone who's ever played duck hunt hates that dog. that dog can suck it.

to say that i miss having james around would be an understatement. wait. let me rephrase that. to say that i miss being able to call/email/see/talk to james in person would be an understatement. his spirit's still around, kinda like how my parents' spirits are around. there are still certain quasi-distant relatives of mine who have a hard time looking me in my face b/c i remind them so much of james. sorry, y'all. can't really do anything about that. james & i are our mother's children, after all, and we both look like slightly darker versions of her. funny how no one asks how i feel when i look in the mirror sometimes and see james' face or my mother's face.

but this isn't about me. well, it is, kinda, but you know what i mean. it's about remembering my "baby" brother and some of the cool stuff he taught me/introduced me to. it's also about trying not to freak out over the fact that james would've been 50 and i'll be 36 in december and holy crap i am so old and why is time going so fast, etc.

if heaven exists, i hope that today, james gets to eat all of his favorite foods and listen to all of his favorite music while shooting the shit with the angels/spirits of his choosing. i mean, it should be like that every day in heaven as far as i'm concerned, but i don't make the rules. :P

an ode to chronicbabe

i no longer remember when i signed up for chronicbabe's newsletters. no, i don't have a chronic illness (*knocks on wood*), but i still read them and every now and then, i get something valuable out of them. like this one:

Just because we're sick and need help - lots of it, sometimes - doesn't mean we have to spend our days begging forgiveness and bowing down in gratitude for every assist. BUT we need to thank the people who help us.

Someone open a door for you? Say thanks. A friend cooked you dinner? Say thanks. The newspaper delivery person always makes sure your paper makes it onto your porch? Say thanks. See a military member coming home at the airport? Say thanks. Doctor give you some good advice? Say thanks. Sprinkle thanks like confetti. Like glitter. Like sprinkles on a cupcake. Fling it around.

Say thanks. Do it. It's so easy. So many people do so many good things for us every day, and many of them never ask for a thing in return. But you can give them something vitally important: gratitude. Especially when you have nothing left to give, gratitude still means a great deal. And just like we need help sometimes, the folks who love us and care for us need to know we care. Sometimes saying thanks is all it takes.

and y'all know i try to keep an attitude of gratitude going whenever possible, right? even on those days when, frankly, i'd love nothing more than to curl up in a ball and drown my sorrows in a bottle of tequila, i try to find at least one thing or person to be thankful for. not saying it instantly cures my mood, but it helps put things in perspective for me, and that's usually all i need in that moment.

with that said - if i haven't publicly said thank you in a while, consider this a big giant public thanks for...well, everything. i'm not gonna name names or list specific things b/c i know i'd forget something or someone and no one wants that. so, thank you. a lot. y'all rock and i'd rather not picture my life without you in it b/c i would have all of the sadness.

oh, and go check out chronicbabe's site and sign up for her newsletter and/or twitter feed if you're so inclined. :-)

"wow, that dream was weird. i should blog about it!"

that was one of the first thoughts i had this morning, after my initial "holy shit it's august!" panic moment and before i managed to get in the shower and finish waking up. in all honesty, though, i should note that i'm using "weird" in that lazy/can't think of another adjective kind of way, so if you're afraid of what you're about to read, don't be. :P

here's what i remember: i was at some sort of church or auditorium or some other large space because i'd been pressed into service at someone's wedding. not as an usher or behind-the-scenes type of person, but an attendant. someone (i'm still trying to figure out the identity of this person - you'll see why as this continues) thought it would be a good idea to set me up on a blind date of sorts with some dude who was also at this wedding.

not a bad thought as far as thoughts go, right? here's where things get "weird," though - this dude and i had nothing in common. he didn't like reading, he didn't like sports, he wasn't really into food or plays or music or any of the myriad things i like checking out when i have time and money to do so...and he wasn't attractive, either. thankfully, we both realized the distinct lack of a love connection and went our separate ways.

later at that wedding, someone else (seriously, i need to figure out who these people are irl and smack them) asked how my conversation with dude i wouldn't even want to be friends with went, and after i told them, they went on a mini-rant about how women my age can't be picky and if i ever wanted to have kids i needed to get it together, etc.

so, yeah. longest.wedding.ever. did i mention that one of my brothers was also an attendant, and he walked down the aisle holding his suit jacket behind him with his fingers instead of actually wearing it? and that all of us just walked down the aisle as opposed to marching in time with any music or anything? and that i have no idea who was actually getting married?

later in that dream (let's assume this wasn't the same day as the wedding, but i really don't know), a couple of my favorite guy friends picked me up and surprised me with a trip to a bar i hadn't been to before, where we were served beer and 25-cent wings, and all was well.

told you it was "weird." also, i think i might order wings for dinner tonight, b/c, well, why not? :P

recipe review: turkey fried rice

at some point last week, l & i were trying to figure out a easy fix for the ground turkey we had for that night's dinner. the original plan may have involved meatballs, but that was going to require more time and effort than either of us felt like expending, so i made turkey sloppy joes with bbq sauce instead. before i made that, though, i flipped through the folder of recipes i've been clipping this year (as opposed to the hundreds of recipes i have on my hard drive, and not to be confused with the binders of recipes i have in storage) and found this one for turkey fried rice. i didn't have all the ingredients on hand at that point, but l & i agreed that it should go in the rotation for this week.

here's what i did differently:

--i cooked 1 cup of rice (instead of 3/4 cup) to yield 3 cups of cooked rice. the rice might have been extra long grain instead of long grain, but that's what i grabbed out of the pantry and i don't think it made much difference

--silly me forgot to put scallions on the shopping list, so i improvised with a little (i mean, probably less than 1/2 teaspoon) onion powder when i added the other ingredients.

--skipped the ginger b/c we didn't have any around

--used a heaping tablespoon of minced garlic vs. chopped b/c there's a giant jar of it in the fridge and l, j, and i are all garlic fans

--used frozen sugar snap peas (vs. snow peas called for in recipe) b/c i was already buying frozen green peas and figured what the hell. i didn't measure these quanities, though - i think each bag was less than 16oz each, and i probably used 1/2 to 3/4 of a bag of each.

--the carrots we bought at the farmers market were a little on the small side, so i used 6 instead of 4

--went with somewhere between 2-3 tablespoons of dark soy sauce instead of hoisin sauce b/c that's what was on hand

and even with all of those substitions, we still proclaimed it nom. the original recipe says it serves 4, but i think my version could probably yield 6 single servings. i'd definitely make it again.

(non-recipe related content coming soon. seriously. it's on my list. it's gonna happen.)

recipe review: maple-soy salmon

i've been in the mood for salmon for at least the past 3 weeks, but whenever i went to the grocery store, the seafood counter would be closed or the store would be out of salmon and my plans for deliciousness would be thwarted. not today, though. since i work thisclose to a whole foods, i knew i could have salmon for dinner tonight and appease my taste buds. when i went to my recipe folder, i was looking for something quick that i wouldn't need to do a lot of additional shopping for (aside from the salmon itself, that is). luckily, the friends i'm catsitting had everything i needed to make this.

a confession, though: it's entirely possible that i've made this before a couple/few years ago. i honestly don't remember, so let's just pretend/assume that this is new to all of us, ok? that said - i used about a pound of salmon that i cut into 4 pieces. if i'd been in the mood to do math, i probably could've adjusted the measurements here so i wouldn't end up with a surplus of sauce. however, i wasn't in the mood to do math therefore i ended up with a surplus of sauce. 

verdict? meh. if i'd had more time (read: if i wasn't already starving by the time i got dinner started), i might have let the fish sit in the sauce for 5-10 minutes, b/c i didn't really pick up that much of the maple/soy/dijon concoction. it was still good, though. i'd make it again. parmesan couscous and roasted broccoli were also served. mmm...roasted broccoli. i'm relatively full and yet i still have to resist the urge to eat what's left of tonight's batch of broccoli. i love it that much. you should try it out, assuming that it's cooled off enough in your area for you to tolerate turning on the oven. 

recipe* review: roasted broccoli

* - i'm pretty sure that i saw a recipe for roasted broccoli somewhere and just decided to "invent" my own take on it. of course, i don't remember what the recipe is or where i found it, so i can't give the recipe creator proper credit. y'all know i'd totally link to the recipe if i had it, right? right. ok, then.

what you'll need:
--fresh broccoli (how much you're buying depending on how many people you're feeding, if you want leftovers, if broccoli's on sale or if you're splurging on the super-organic whole foods stuff, etc. it's your call, really.)
--olive oil
--salt & pepper, plus any additional seasonings of your choice
--baking sheet/dish (you want something large enough so you can spread the broccoli out in a single layer)
--a knife (confession: i almost posted the "chopping broccoli" snl bit here, but i refrained. you're welcome.)

got everything? let's get cooking, then.
--preheat your oven to 400 degrees.
--while the oven heats up, rinse the broccoli and then cut the stems and any other tough pieces off until you have a pile of broccoli florets. if you like having parts of the stems on your florets, then by all means leave them on. depending on how large the florets are, and depending on if you're gonna serve this dish to children, you might need to chop them into smaller/bite-size pieces.
--dump all of the broccoli onto/into your baking vessel of choice.
--drizzle olive oil over the broccoli. the amount of oil really depends on how much broccoli you're working with. you don't need a lot; let's say a couple of tablespoons at the most here.
--add salt, pepper, and whatever other seasoning you'd like. i like to add garlic powder b/c 1) i like garlic and 2) i don't want to worry about burning fresh minced garlic.
--toss the broccoli around so every piece gets a little bit of oil and seasoning. it's best to use your hands for this.
--if you think you skimped on the oil and/or the seasonings, add a little more and then toss everything together again.
--in the oven it goes! depending on how much broccoli you're working with and how large the florets are, you're looking at a cook time of 15-20 minutes. i usually check the broccoli after 10 minutes, give it a stir, and then let it cook a little longer.

i like to still have a little bit of crunch on my broccoli when it's done, but it's also picked up a little browning from the oil and it's gotten a bit tender and omg it's so nom.

and there you have it. now we know why i usually stick to reading/making other folks' recipes instead of writing out my own. :P

today's moment of damn near perfect awesomeness

i have to start by saying that today's been pretty solid, really. had a conversation with bff that lasted for at least an hour and a half, made a bit of progress in my pile of library books to read, remembered to bring in the bins after trash/recycling pickup...nothing major, obviously, but enough so that i felt pretty good about the day.

then i made dinner and sat down to eat my store-bought chicken & four cheese ravioli and the roasted broccoli i made (the "recipe" for which i will share in my next post, promise) and sip my pepsi with anne lamott's latest book to keep me company.

this is where i detour a bit to fawn over anne lamott. she's one of my favorite writers. seriously. her books make me have all of the feelings, sometimes within the same chapter and, if i'm really gonna be honest, sometimes on the same damn page. i love her. i still miss her salon columns even though she hasn't written for them in ages. if you've not read any of her stuff, check it out. please. she's amazeballs.

ok, back to dinner. sitting at the dining room table with my ravioli and my broccoli and my pepsi and my library book. eating. enjoying the silence. feeling pleased about the day's events, even if they were relatively uneventful. pondering a plan for the rest of the evening, which likely will include watching tv, starting to prep for my next adventures in catsitting stint, and finally listening to fiona apple's new release.

but then. i was reading and suddenly a whitney houston song popped into my head. anyone who knows me and my penchant for song snippets appearing out of nowhere (a friend once said i have "musical tourette's") won't be surprised by this, i know. but the song was a bit surprising b/c i haven't listened to it in who knows how long and i wasn't expecting it to come up in my mental jukebox:



sometimes, when i'm at church or while i'm out and about or while i'm in the shower or wherever i happen to be, i try to pay god compliments or otherwise acknowledge that s/he is pretty fucking amazing. (yes, i swear while talking about god. i swear when i'm praying sometimes, too. fight me.) god usually brushes it off, like it's no big deal. not saying that god can't handle compliments, but that s/he doesn't really need the validation, but they're willing to listen b/c that's how they roll.

and then i realized that i hadn't really had one of these intense moments lately. luckily for me, i don't feel compelled to save my worship for when i'm in a church, b/c that doesn't happen on a consistent basis for me, especially with my new work schedule (have i mentioned that i work sundays and i'm really gonna dislike it come football season?). i almost cried. seriously. as weird as it may sound, and i am fully cognizant of the fact that this sounds weird to some of y'all, it was like i had all of the warm and fuzzy feelings at once and if i didn't acknowledge that fact, even with a slient headnod to god, i was going to burst. i both love and hate that feeling - love it b/c i feel so full and happy and i just want to give hugs and high-fives all around, and hate it b/c my inner control freak is all "what in the entire fuck are you doing? stop it!"

even now, as i'm writing this, inner control freak voice is screaming for me to delete this and just give y'all the roasted broccoli hookup. possibly a few of you are wishing i'd listened to that voice instead of all of this emotional fuckery. but if you made it this far and you're still upset about reading this...well, i'm probably not the one you should be upset with. just sayin'.

so this is what solitude feels like...

tonight marks my first night alone, sans pets and/or children, since i had to vacate casa de eulalia back in october. it's glorious and a bit depressing at the same time. glorious b/c, well, i have the house to myself and y'all know how i cherish quiet time. depressing b/c, well, it's not my house. it's gonna happen, though. hopefully sooner rather than later, but i've learned not to put firm timetables on these kinds of things. i'm actually going to use tonight and tomorrow to remind myself of just how much i love (relative) peace and quiet. weirdly motivational, i know, but that's how i roll.

and hey, i'll be in the city this weekend, and for an extended amount of time in july, so it's not all bad. besides, i have that whole part-time job thing going, which is an obvious plus.

hope y'all are having a decent week. isn't this lovely (and by lovely i mean omfg it's so hot) weather we're having? :P

in which i admit to having some, if not all, of the feelings

i have a confession to make. i got a little teary while boarding the metra train back to the 'burbs tonight. it's not that i haven't missed being in chicago before now, because i have. tears have been shed previously over not living here anymore, so this isn't anything new.

it's a combination of things, really. spending 10 days in the city i know and love with some of my favorite people (you know who you are and you're awesome and i love you like i love chocolate and reading and quiet time), plus dealing with yet another father's day w/o daddy even though a part of me really thinks that after 15 years, i shouldn't get as affected by this as i still do, plus feeling grateful for my new part-time gig even though i'm still hoping/praying for an additional part-time job or a full-time one so i can really try to set things in motion to get back to chicago on a permanent basis, plus feeling sad for my oldest brother who just laid his biological father to rest yesterday, which has to be extra-painful given that it's father's day weekend and now he's lost all three of his parents - our mom, my dad, who was technically his stepdad but i honestly don't remember that terminology ever being used, and now his biological father, who he just (re)discovered ~10 years ago - plus losing james a few years ago and i almost sorta kinda but not really wish that our relationship was such that i could call or email him and let him know that i know the shit hurts, but we're not in that space and therefore i feel like an asshole and why on earth do y'all let me run on like this?

so, all of that, plus the unshakable "i really should've been back by now and why the fuck is this taking so long" feeling of frustration i have, plus feeling like shit b/c i am stuck on the sidelines while a colleague/friend is trying to maneuver her mother's pending demise (i would really like cancer to die in a fucking fire right the fuck now), plus dealing w/some other feelings toward some other people that i know good and gotdamn well i have no business even trying to deal with right now b/c i really don't have the emotional and/or mental fortitude to go there, and yeah…i'm kinda surprised i haven't started bawling while i'm typing this on the train.

y'know what's weird, though? the whole time i've been writing this post, one of the voices in my head has been screaming at me for even considering sharing this with y'all. i will readily admit to not being superwoman, and damned if i'm gonna keep all of these feelings bottled up when i have a perfectly good outlet like this blog to get some shit off of my chest and out of my head. i mean, we all know i'm gonna (wo)man up and put on my big girl panties and keep plugging away until i'm back in chicago and am approaching something that could be construed as financial stability, but fuck. this shit is hard. it's really fucking hard and i am so fucking tired and sometimes the only thing that stops me from curling up into a ball and sobbing myself to sleep is knowing that y'all have my back and that some of y'all would, if i asked, quite literally kick my ass and make me get back in gear b/c you know me well enough to know that this is only temporary and for fuck's sake i've run on again. shit.

before i forget, though - and this is really important - please don't let my current insanity stop you from talking to me about any and all major shit (hell, even minor shit) that's going on with you. i really appreciate the fact that you don't want to add to my emotional distress by telling me your troubles/challenges/whatever, but we're friends, gotdammit, and if we can't share the highs and lows of our lives with each other, then we're all doing it wrong. i'll readily admit that i haven't been as communicative as i probably could've/should've been w/some of y'all lately, and i'm sorry. it's never been my intent to use my woes as an excuse to be (more) self-absorbed and uncaring. that's not what i want, and if you see me doing that shit, please tell me to cut it out, mmkay?

hot fun in the summertime*

eta: omg you guys. i have a job. i start on friday. more about it here.

*yes, i know it's not technically summer yet, but i think we're close enough.

i've been in the city since thursday and i am pretty sure i've eaten more pork and drank more alcohol in these past few days than i have in at least 2 months. seriously, i'm amazed that i haven't succumbed to a porcine version of the meat sweats. and ham. and more bacon. i actually had a meatless monday yesterday b/c i know my system isn't accustomed to this much swine anymore. that, and the fact that there's more pork in my future before i head back on sunday. bacon burgers? check. a pork/apple pie? yup. it's all gonna happen and maybe now some of my pants/skirts will stop falling off of me due to the weight i'm sure to gain this week.

have i mentioned lately that i have awesome friends? b/c i do. i've managed to hang with a few of y'all already and there have been lots of laughs and music and nomz and booze and i love y'all for it. it's no wonder that this got stuck in my head before i went to bed last night:

time for a little family feud

when richard dawson died this weekend, this gem of a video popped up in my twitter feed. i just watched it again and if you're having a week like i'm having so far, you could probably use some laughs. enjoy. :-)

can't travel anywhere

oh, cta. you've really gone and done it this time. announcing the closure of the dan ryan branch of the red line (from cermak/chinatown to 95th street) for five months, presumably in the name of saving money & time. 

my initial reaction to today's news was shock. i didn't play the racism card, although there's definitely a strong case to be made there, seeing as how the ridership south of chinatown to 95th is predominantly black. but that's not the case i want to make right now.

people who know me relatively well know that i am a huge fan of the cta. i come by it honestly, seeing as how both daddy and james worked for the chicago transit authority for more than 20 years before they retired. i've always said that cta helped get me through northwestern, thanks to daddy's pension plan. the occasional trips home from evanston didn't hurt, either.

people who know me relatively well also know that i've been attending 1st c. off and on since i was 6 years old. in those 25+ years (holy crap i am old), i have never missed 5 months of sunday service. not when i was in college. not when i was balancing 2 part-time jobs, an internship, and grad school. not even during my current suburban sojourn. 5 weeks, maybe, but not 5 months. 

for those of you who weren't at the urbantherapy wedding or at james' funeral: 1st c. is on the far south side. like 111th street far. as in i take the red line to 95th and then hop on a bus to get to 1st c. this pending closure pretty much means that i'll be fully embracing my heathen status for those 5 months. that also means that i'll be losing a part of my community for 5 months. oh, yeah, and there's that whole "the only time i usually hang with my family is at church" thing, which will go by the wayside for 5 months.

i'm writing this while riding the metra back to the 'burbs and i haven't been online since lunchtime, so i don't know if any major players have made a statement about this cta plan. i'd love to know what the white sox think of having their primary station closed…but i'm willing to guess that having a green line station and a metra station nearby takes some of the sting out of it. i'd presume the same for the university of chicago, esp. since the green line is technically closer to campus and there's also metra access nearby. same goes for iit.

[eta: the tribune article has been updated w/comments from the white sox, who do indeed refer to the nearby green line and metra stations as game day alternatives.]

i wonder what metra has to say. are they planning to boost capacity and/or adjust schedules on their southern routes during these station closures? has cta mentioned anything about changes to their bus lines/schedules, particularly in the areas affected by these closures?

did anyone at cta give voice to the fact that the "shuttles to the green line" option only works for people who aren't south of 63rd street? or that it's entirely possible that some riders may find it cost-prohibitive to switch to metra for those months? or that it's just not a convenient option to get to/from a metra station, or a bus stop, for that matter?

granted, we have a whole year to gear ourselves up for this, but right now? it just doesn't sit well with me. hopefully i can make it to one of the town-hall meetings to see exactly how this is supposed to play out.

recipe review: rosemary chicken

y'know how sometimes, after a (long) weekend, you look in the fridge/freezer and realize that you don't really feel like cooking for the rest of the week? you find yourself coming up with basic dinner plans b/c you already know you're not going to the store for any extra ingredients and the thought of expending any more energy than you absolutely have to is just enough to send you over the edge?

yeah, that was me last night. "let's see...boneless skinless chicken breasts...frozen pizza...um, i think there's a box of mac & cheese in the pantry...yeah, that'll work." tonight was chicken night. actually, it was supposed to be leftovers and/or chicken night, but a last-minute remembrance of just how long the leftovers had been in the fridge crossed them off of the list. luckily i'd already finished making this.

a few substitutions on this one: i used 2 teaspoons of dried rosemary instead of fresh, and about 3/4 of a tablespoon of minced garlic instead of chopped, b/c that's what was on hand.

verdict? somewhere b/t meh and nom. i marinated the chicken for 4-5 hours, give/take 30 minutes in either direction. i think i overcooked it a little bit, but in my defense, these chicken breasts were ginormous even after i cut them in half and i was trying to err on the side of caution.

would i make it again? probably. if i'm organized enough, i might even make the arugula and white beans, instead of the salad & mashed potatoes we had tonight.

hope y'all had a good weekend. :-)

dream journals?

any of y'all down with the whole "write down what you remember of your dreams as soon as you wake up" thing? b/c i think i really need to start. i was in the middle of a really disturbing dream and i actually had to wake myself up to snap out of it. at 5am. once i managed to calm myself down, aka stop shaking and borderline freaking out b/c it was only a dream and hopefully none of that shit will actually happen irl, i was wide awake until 6 or so. of course, one of the twins decided to start waking up just as i started to doze off.

the last dream sequence i remember before i woke up again? i was in philadelphia, riding around with someone. i have no idea who that someone is/was. we'd just dropped someone else off (again, a mystery) and i'd just gotten back in the car. i'd put my seat belt on, but took it off b/c i was wearing a heavy coat and it was warm out and therefore i didn't need it. i strapped myself back in and started singing along to this:



(note: i kinda miss having the ability to hit some of those high notes. i'm pretty sure my voice teacher would say that i still could if i really wanted to, but that's neither here nor there.)

so anyway - i'm in the front passenger seat of this car, singing my heart out, and the car's moving backwards through this parking garage. did i mention that i'm the only person in this car? and i'm too busy singing along to notice the backward movement, let alone grab the wheel? the car somehow exited the garage and was about to back into traffic when my alarm went off.

weird, right? by the time i dragged myself out of bed 15 minutes later (thank god for snooze options), this song was stuck in my head:



i was sober for all of this, btw. i have no idea what my dreams would look like if i was drinking on a regular basis (again), and i'm not entirely sure i want to find out. this is not to say that i don't want to drink on a quasi-regular basis, though. wait. that doesn't sound right. y'all know what i mean, though. i hope.

happy saturday. :-)

recipe review: slow cooker barbecue chicken

believe it or not, there are some folks out there who think that slow cookers should only be used in the winter. they're probably like that guy in those stove-top commercials who thinks that stuffing is only for thanksgiving.

not me. slow cookers and stuffing never go out of season for me. that said, when i was flipping through my files for ideas on what to make with the pack of boneless skinless chicken breasts i'd taken out for tonight's dinner, i came across this recipe. a quick search confirmed that yes, i had everything i needed, and so here we are.

(side note - i've become that person who has hundreds of recipes saved on their computer. let's not even talk about the folder of recipes currently on my desk. or the binders of recipes packed away in a box. what'd i say last night about food pr0n? yeah...)

back to the recipe, though. i started the crockpot around noon and by 3:30, my stomach was growling and the house smelled all nice and barbecue-y. by 5, the chicken was ready to be shredded and yes, the sauce actually thickens like it's supposed to when you add the cornstarch/chicken broth mixture. i had my doubts about this b/c cornstarch and i have had a contentious relationship, even when i mix it with water/broth/whatever as a thickening agent. but it worked, and the chicken went back in the crockpot for just about 40 minutes or so. oh, and i seasoned the chicken with a little bit of black pepper at the beginning, but that was the only substitution/addition i made.

verdict? nom. would make again. my thinking is that the italian dressing added just enough of a vinegar taste to balance out the brown sugar and the bbq sauce. i definitely see this recipe making a comeback during football season (hopefully in my own place), b/c i don't think it'd be a problem to double or triple this recipe for a crowd.

win some, lose some

today? today goes in the win column.

no, i didn't get a job. money didn't magically appear in my bank account, although i haven't checked my paypal since this morning, but i won't hold my breath there. i didn't stumble on a way to be back in chicago full-time (yet!), i didn't win the lottery...nothing really earth-shattering happened. it was all about life's little victories, combined with my #humpdayhustlin, that led to today being a win.

in no particular order:

--e-mail from lane bryant saying they're offering 50% off their entire site, and me having just enough in the bank to order a new bra, which was perfect timing b/c i just had to toss one of my old ones in the trash. and shipping was free b/c i'm having it sent to a store, and it should be there by the time i'm back in the city.

--applied for at least a dozen jobs.

--accomplished 4.5 things on my to-do list, including reconnecting with someone i worked with back in my grad school days. potential professional networking hookup? yeah, maybe. we'll see.

--had enough downtime today/tonight to apply for the aforementioned jobs, make 2 phone calls (which account for 2 of those 4.5 items on my list), and pretty much finish my freelance project for this week. ok, so the project as a whole will probably take me until labor day to finish, but this particular phase of it? pretty much done. i hope. if all goes according to plan, i will have monies while i'm in the city next month. woo!

--won a twitter contest. mmm...free nomz...

--found out that l & j's satellite provider now offers cooking channel. i actually did a little dance of joy when i discovered this. yeah, i spend an inordinate amount of time watching food shows and reading about food and looking at food pr0n. fight me.

like i said...nothing earth-shattering or stupendous, but i was excited and happy and can you really blame me for running with that? i didn't think so.

actually, this whole week so far (*knocks wood*) has been pretty solid. on monday, i found a pair of shoes that i've been searching for since january. my backlog of magazines? done. my chocolate stash has been replenished and i need to lay off of it a bit, b/c last week's stress eating=this week's acne. you'd think that my system would be well-acquainted with my affinity for chocolate and therefore would behave accordingly. oh well.

--------------------------------------------

and now for something completely different - wtf are people doing for memorial day? clearly i can't host anything (sigh), but if someone's gonna grill and/or ply me with alcoholic beverages, i'm in. i might even make brownies, assuming that i get a chance to go to the store and buy the necessary ingredients. i feel like the holiday kinda snuck up on us. that, or i missed a memo somewhere. if something's happening this weekend that resembles a get-together, please let me know so i can start planning transportation and crashpad options.

hope y'all are having a good week. right now i'm resisting the urge to watch penguin cam b/c i really need to go the fuck to sleep. sweet dreams and all that. :-)

i thought i'd be back by now.

first of all, i can't believe that we're already halfway through may. second of all, i can't believe that i'm still in "suburban sojourn" mode. honestly, when i made the decision back in december to do this whole "barter childcare/household help for a stable place to sleep" thing, i figured i'd be back in a few months. definitely in time for spring. maybe summer.

now? i'm hoping to be back in chicago in time for football season, and i'm not even sure if that's going to happen. it's depressing as all hell, really. it's not as if i haven't been trying to move back, what with all of my job hunting and interviewing and babysitting and freelancing and other hustles. but, here i am, still unemployed with no regular income aside from my food stamps and still technically homeless.

i am trying not to complain. i know how good i have it, relatively speaking. i could be in a shelter or riding the red line all day and night with a suitcase or god knows what else. i'm lucky to know folks who would do whatever they could to make sure i didn't end up in a shelter or a permanent cta passenger. and at least i have 'net access so i can apply for jobs and post updates here and on twitter. and my cell phone is still on (barely) b/c of those babysitting and freelance gigs and donations. i get it. i'm blessed. no need to remind me.

and yet...it'd really be nice to take off this damned cape and let myself wallow for a bit. double bonus if there was someone who'd be willing to take some of this proverbial weight off of my shoulders. that's not how i am, though. like the other day, when a heat-and-hormonal induced migraine hit and i tried to keep moving through it, knowing that the best thing for me would be to take my meds and go the fuck to sleep. yeah, but since i only have a few meds left and am trying to save those for my really severe migraines, i popped a couple of tylenol instead and went on with giving the twins their dinner and cleaning up and whatnot until l basically demanded that i go upstairs and go to bed. so i did...for maybe an hour or so, until my stomach decided to join the migraine party and add nausea to the mix.

back downstairs i went, even though i knew i wasn't 100% better and probably looked as wobbly as i felt. didn't matter to me, though, b/c there was still "work" to do and i was still "on the clock" since the twins were still awake. (no, i'm not getting paid and no, i'm not punching in - this is all in my head. yes, i know i'm crazy.)  even though l and her mom and j when he came home from work were all giving me that "why tf aren't you in bed?" look. 

i did come back upstairs eventually, after making myself eat a pb&j and some sun chips (mmm...sun chips) and cleaning up the kitchen and loading the dishwasher and i forget what else.

why do i do this to myself? b/c my type a-minus personality won't let me be lazy and procrastinate all the time. b/c i'm a overachiever. b/c this isn't my house. do i live here? yes, for the moment, but it isn't mine. i'd feel a lot more comfortable doing a whole lot of nothing if i only had to be responsible for myself. if part of the deal didn't involve taking care of the kids and helping out around the house. but that's the deal, and damned if i'm gonna welsh on it.

and now i've forgotten where the hell i was going with this. oh, right - i'm not back in chicago full-time yet, despite my best efforts, i'm tired and thankful at the same time, and i'm looking forward to summer anyway b/c i'll be in the city for a couple of weeks off and on. and, y'know, if you ever wanna visit me here in the lovely north 'burbs, feel free. and there were probably at least two other points i wanted to make, but the twins will be up from their nap soon and i should wrap this up while it's still relatively quiet.

yeah. happy hump day.