My dream

How do you get diagnosed as being "exhausted?" You see headlines like the one I faked up for myself. How do find a doctor who tell the world you're exhausted? Are they on Angie's list or "if you have to ask you can't afford." Who do I call - who do I have to sleep with so I can lie around, watching bad tv and having someone wait on me. Because I am exhausted. I want the diagnoses and the pills and the excuse. I want rock star treatment.

My Favorite Fairy Godmother is a national finalist and she needs our votes!

I went to see Terre Thomas at her store after a break up and she had great advice for me. She is a real fairy godmother, can make your wishes come true and she wears gowns to her store every day. Check out the link to her online store below. And please watch the video, register and vote. If you live in Minnesota - I'll go to the store with you. I will.

She's sending out this plea:

In April, local Minneapolis fairy godmother, Terre Thomas, and her gift shop in Calhoun Square, was chosen as one of 50 national finalists (out of almost 2000 small business entries) in the Intuit/Quickbooks Small Business contest. She won $5000 and with a 2 minute video entry of her story, she has the chance to win $10-25,000 for the First or Grand Prize.

Forty percent of her score comes from votes from the public at the Intuit/Quickbooks contest website.

Watch the video and vote* (you have to register at the site to vote; it's just four boxes)

at this link:
http://community.intuit.com/contests/dZjlbEw_eqllvkab8P4pmk

Please vote by May 31st!

Candy is Dandy but Liquor is Quicker

Candy is Dandy but Liquor is Quicker
Originally uploaded by hanthemansol0

I had a dream the other night about some woman who would only eat her meals on the porch - it was more fun and the food tasted better that way. She would eat dessert inside the house and she demonstrated this by eating some of those candied fruit slices. I have no idea what this means. When I'd go to Mackinac Island with Pat (you do know it's pronounced Mackinaw) island, I'd eat almost all my meals on their gorgeous porch. It is more fun. And yes, we'd have fresh fudge inside at the dinner table.

I've been so tired lately, it's been hard to concentrate - I've been reading these really fluffy novels by Pamela Morsi. Just light candy reading. I love on the covers it says, "a USA TODAY bestselling author." Wow, USA today - a paper sold in a microwave (thanks Clare)

I was on some stupid antibiotics and you're supposed to stay off the hooch while on them. Thanks to a study done by a pharmacy student - I was trying out his theory last night at Dixies on Grand. A not bad BBQ, beers, wine and hard liquor (not very much of each) and I was fine. James got a stomach ache maybe some sympathetic reaction.

That's pretty much all I want in life, eating dinner on the porch, dessert at the dining room table and a glass scotch on the sofa while on the phone. Forget the real stuff - candy or liquor is fine with me.

Substitutes

Prescriptions - White
Originally uploaded by zacharmstrong

I've been thinking of substitutes this week. The word, the idea. Shown are not my actual prescriptions (I'm on nine at the moment) they are a substitute for my health.

Is it the word "substitute" (the kiss of death in school) or the idea that you're substituting one thing for another. A lesser quality trade.

Ever see some great item on a restaurant menu and maybe it has one ingredient you can't have but the chef refuses to change it. I hate that stupid disclaimer "no substitutes." My mom and boyfriend have some pretty severe allergies - I think a restaurant has more class if they're willing to take out an offending ingredient. Who knows.

I've been having fun learning how to BBQ. The real slow cooked, smoky BBQ. My first attempt was pretty good. To research more, I got a ton of books from the library. I found this one: Cheater BBQ. I had all the pieces to make one of the recipes from that book. It was cold and raining and I wanted dinner in less than 2 hours. I had a bottle of liquid smoke but the last time I used it - the results really sucked. So I followed the instructions, mixed the spices and the liquid smoke and broiled the chicken in my oven. Faux Q. (Say it, ha ha ha) It wasn't a five hour smoked piece of meat - but it was pretty good. James and I shared a bottle of wine with the faux q, my last drink for at least two weeks while I go on some pretty hardcore antibiotics. I love having a bit of scotch or rum at night before I go to bed. But I cannot have any alcohol. So I'll need a substitute for that. (Substitute my coke for gin) I actually have put a few drops of rum flavoring in my pop. I'd rather not get hung over by having some hideous medical reaction.

That got me singing the song, "Substitute by the Who". (Substitute my coke for gin) And I found a cover done by the Ramones that I can't embed. That's funny.

Help push in your stool

I put stool in the Google. Ha ha ha! And look what came out! Stool. Ha!

Thrift Store advice

Thrift Store Sign
Originally uploaded by pixeljones

A dear friend of mine does costume design for movies. Often she goes to thrift stores and alters the clothes she finds. She knows which thrift stores in her town have what. She knows her shit. Sometimes people will try to be helpful and tell her she should shop at thrift stores to find clothes. Yeah, she already KNOWS. She just rolls her eyes and thanks them.

When I was job or boyfriend hunting (long long ago - thank god I have both!) I'd never talk too much about the places I had sent my resume, the dates or the interviews. It would always doom the prospects. You'd get all excited, talk about the cool people you saw, how the place looked, the location, how he'd make a great father...Then when you didn't get the job or the guy (who you swore was the one) - you'd hear it back later from your friends, "How is he, how's Mr Right, hows the new job..." And you'd mourn all over again for your last hope. For your lost hope. There's be no other, that was it, that was the perfect job, the perfect man and nothing could compare. Then there'd be a new job posting, or that guy who you never noticed. And you'd try, try so hard not to get excited to proclaim to the world that you finally found the one.

I am searching for the answers, the questions, I keep hoping I've find the right job, the right man maybe the right cure. And I don't want any help. I don't want to tell anyone until I know for sure. Until then any unwanted advice will be taken and thanked as I yell, "Thrift Store!"

Bitch on wheels and the rules

trashy bitch
Originally uploaded by mugley

Watching "The Office" last night, I totally got Jim and his frustration understanding what his new boss wanted. I have quit jobs after trying to get a straight answer out of a boss. "You know, you'll just know" one boss said when I asked about a design that he hadn't liked. I wanted clarification or parameters - not a vague answer. I had a teacher that told me to make a design, "more crunchy." Yeah, ok. She was a sub so all I had to do was wait for my real teacher to come back.

I got an email today requesting a diagram of my creative processes. It was one of those babble speak emails that made my head hurt. The diagram might look like the picture to the right. Might.

And today, I have been trying to send a package out through FedEx. It was complex. I wanted to do it right. It took four employees to get that shit gone. The first one took a bible sized book and told me to find the info I needed. Wouldn't that be HER job. I thought another office could ship it out for me. Nope. Two wasted trips. Later this afternoon, I reread the instructions and brought the package back to the same place. Again, more employees but we figured it out.

After this frustrating day I come home to find my neighbor parked in our shared driveway. Shared. Driveway. I stomped down the driveway and told him to move the vehicle. There is a set of rules the old neighbors drew up about parking in the driveway. Really.

A Watched Pot...

A Watched Pot
Originally uploaded by Josh Sommers

...never boils. I know I know. I KNOW.

I have no patience being a patient.

Train kept a rolling...

train kept a rolling
Originally uploaded by cycℓops (mjlearmouth)

...all night long.

Pull the plug - ha ha ha no need. Plug is pulled.

Shipoopi

I hate this song. I hate the title. I hate the dancing. And I hate Buddy Hackett. - I find him annoying and simpering. I've heard stories about Buddy Hackett and his graying underwear and wayward bits - which only adds to my hatred.And tt's perfect for a gross project I'm about to embark on.

Finding God

Many years ago I was at the library, I got the book pictured, The Life of God (as Told by Himself) It's from God's point of view of how he created the world. He starts by saying "it was foolish to create winter." I think that's what sold me. I hate winter. And insects are "the embodiments of my anxiety." He invents the rhinoceros and the palm tree on the same day and regrets the rhino's horn, "I should have removed it, but didn't." I loved the book. It answers just about every question you might have about the creation of the world. I should have remembered the author, who's name Franco Ferruci, is close to Fiorucci one of my all time favorite stores. You'd think. If you Google "Life of God" there are 309,000,000 entries. Good luck. I went back to the library. I'm searching the library's database for God, Life of God. No luck. I cannot find it. I cannot find God. For my 40th birthday, I took a road trip down Route 66. I was at the library stocking up on books to take on the trip. I thought I'd ask one of the nice reference people at the library. I apologized in advance for my stupid question, "I'm looking for a book about god, a funny first hand account. I don't remember the title or author." I could tell them about the insects and winter but all I got was glazed looks. I left my number on the slight hope someone could help me. Just before I left on my trip, I got a call - one reference guy, called another guy and they figured it out. We have a goofy feature in the St Paul paper, Sainted and Tainted. You can nominate anyone for such an award. I wrote in that the staff at the St Paul should get a Sainted award for finding the book. The reference guy called me back and said it was part of his job to find hard to find books. He answered an almost impossible question and found God for me.

Grandma's Gefilte Fish

Every Passover, my grandma would make gefilte fish. The best part was the story about getting the fish. It was very Seinfeldesque - a story about nothing. It was always told with great dramatics, they didn't have the right fish, the fish wasn't ground enough. There was always a story. I think my sister had some assignment to document a process. My mom photographed my grandma making gefilte fish and they transcribed her instructions. My mom found the original cook book and copied the cover and recipe in one picture. That's the picture in yellow.

Grandma will be watching from above as James and I try to do our best. I hope our story doesn't end up with, "and we had to go buy a few jars of the scary gefilte fish from the store." Here is that transcript of my grandma making fish:

A running commentary from notes from the gefilte fish demonstration made during Grandma's demo

Buy fish at a live fish store; it should not have a lot of fillets in the display case; just whole fish on ice. Fish is ordered in advance; fish man grinds it, saving bones 5 head for the broth

Recipe comes From ORT Cookbook: Portal to Good Cooking (see photo)

Fish formula: 1/3 each: trout, pike, white fish [pickerel can be sub. For pike each pound of fish (before boning) yields half pound after

Demonstration started with 5 lbs. of fish, 2.5 Ibs. After boning add: 1 good-sized onion and 1 egg for every pound of filleted fish (After they prepare fish and grind it, have them weight it so you will know the amount you have)

Add .5 cup water, increase salt .5 teaspoon for each pound of filleted fish. (If still a little bland, can add some more)

Add 1 tablespoon of sugar, to bring out the taste .5 teaspoon of pepper
(Grandma used less pepper; she didn't like the mixture too peppery)
1 tablespoon matzah meal for each pound of filleted fish .25 to .5 cup of cold water for 2.5 pounds

(Depends of mixture of fish- If fish is firm or delicate, fatty or lean. Ratio of matzah meal and water can vary a little)

Prepare fish broth: My Grandmother cooked together fish bones, onions, carrots, parsley root, parsnip, fish heads-- all together in huge pot for 3 hours, then discarded bones etc. She liked to cook fish in broth without all those bones getting in the way. Quantities for broth: 3 large sized onions, 5 carrots cut in large pieces or quarters, salt, pepper

Actual cooking:
Chop onion fine in Cuisinart (can be a little mush), fine enough to be mixed with fish in mixer.
Mix 3 fishes together by hand first. (In the past, fish wasn't ground but chopped in a large wooden bowl using a double-blade rocker, then chopped together). 3 fish + finely chopped onions mix together First by hand, then in electric mixer, adding salt, pepper. Add to mixer bowl: eggs, cold water, matzah meal, mixing to blend with fish. DON'T OVER MIX OR ELSE IT GETS MUSHY!

(Eggs = large-size) Grandma liked to complete mixing by hand; more cold water, the stiffer the fish.
Let stand (refrigerated) 10 minutes or so to allow matzah meal to soften. (Feel should be cohesive, moist; test comes when you wet hands to form ball)

(No brown skins on onions; turn fish brown)cooked a second round of onions and carrots added to fish broth (peeled carrots sliced and served on top of fish-patties). Forming the pattie: mixture fairly stiff could be "stretched" by adding more water and matzah meal (doesn't taste as good)

Cooking fish-patties in fish broth: need enough broth to cover fish completely; can add more water, salt and pepper to taste. Add more water during cooking if necessary.
Bring pot of broth to a boil; drop formed patties into boiling water. Cook several hours in covered pot. [Cook briskly first half-hour,Then boil gently, not a simmer, on low.) Let cool in broth,taking care in removing so patties do not break.Patties: Each pound yields approximately five; six pounds: 30 or more.

Dip hands in cold water; form a ball, drop in boiling water. Fish coagulates immediately; immediately form next ball. Use soup spoon with long handle; amount fills hand. (Measures less than .5 cup, approximately 1/3 cup of fish for pattie (?)

Sorry that this rambles; I did‘t feel like re-writing, editing etc. This keeps the conversational quality of Grandma narrating while she made the fish.I can remember my own Grandma chopping fish is a large wooden mixing bowl, rocking that double-bladed rocker back and forth.

Kindred Spirits

Scene from Anne of green gables
Originally uploaded by mesple

One of my favorite comfort books is Anne of Green Gables. When I feel low, or sick, I dig out my Anne books. I have Anne's House of Dreams on my new MP3 player. I was listening to it while stuck in a doctor's waiting room. I love that Anne (my middle name is Anne as well - with an "e") is always looking for kindred spirits. It made me think of the kindred spirits in my life.

Dana - I can't think of when we weren't friends. I met her in 7th grade. Our weekends used to be filled with watching Love Boat, Fantasy Island and listening to her Steve Martin albums. A few years ago, we were out to diner. Across the street was a record store. I had a feeling there might be those same Steve Martin albums on CD. There they were. We bought them and we each have copies. When Steve pops up on my iPod, It brings me back to Dana.

David - He was visiting his friend, an Irish exchange student, near my parent's house in Chicago. The friend's name was Mal. I always say short for malcontent. He was a crab. I tried being nice to him, take him to some unique Chicago places. He hated everything. My dad had a sailboat and said that Mal, the host family were going to be going sailing - did I want to come along. I was about to say no when Mal introduced his friend, David. David was the opposite of Mal - he was witty and funny. Because of him, I went sailing. Out on the boat, my dad let David steer the boat. There was a depth gauge - dad didn't think it was working right. It was erratic. At some point my dad was lost in conversation. The depth gauge said something like 50 ft, then 40, 30. David pointed this out to me. We both were thinking "Oh shit!" Were we in some weird shallow area? Somehow we got past that point and thegauge went back to being all erratic. David has been my friend ever since we almost beached my dad's boat.

Caroline We were both transfer students at MCAD and kinda cynical about college. Most of our classmates were new and still loving it. Caroline was in my type class. I could hear that she did not have a Minnesoooooda accent. Something from the east. We're going around the room introducing ourselves. She says something like "I'm a transfer student," and that was about it. I walked over to ask her where shetransferred from. "Oh, you wouldn't know it." She was kind of curt. But I was curious. Try me. "Bard College" I knew of it and had stories of a recruiter coming to my high school and actually a car from Bard hitting my mom's car in NY. I responded something like it's some crazy art school in Upstate New York. Nobody else had known the answer. That's when we bonded.

Ken - we met on a film shoot taking place in the Stillwater jail. Or I just like to say I met Ken in prison. It's more shocking. I was doing production work and he was doing sound. At some point it was getting stressful - he said something like I sure do wish I had some Maalox Whip. Maalox in an aerosol can. We by chance thought it was hilarious. And we were probably the only ones who had bought it.

Patrick - I can remember him making fun of Chisholm/Bop, a system using human fingers as an abacus. It was featured in an old '70s commercial. And that he laughed at my answering machine message of the evil killer Teddy Ruxpin. Grandma said the message would scare away the boys. I told her if that scared them, then good. She didn't get it. Pat said it didn't scare him.

Karen - she is in my book club. I can remember joking around saying my company was looking for part time workers to work the ice cream carts. I was shocked when she was actually interested - and now she and her husband are some of our top sellers.

Barely held together

This is how I feel. A beater barely held together with the windows covered over in cardboard.

St Patrick's Day

James in San Francisco St Patrick's Day
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower

I wish you were around on this dark day. Almost makes me want to go out and get some Jameson. Almost.

Birthday fun

Birthday breakfast
Originally uploaded by Debora Drower

I am part of this great organization called Hour Dollars. It's a service exchange or barter program. I love it. Read about it here.We were in the home and garden show over the weekend. I was talking to this guy telling him I get massages from someone in Hour Dollars. He told me he knew Sister Rosalind - she's a nun who does and teaches massage. She even drags her massage chair to our local minor league baseball stadium, home of the St Paul Saints. Her style of massage is like S and M - seriously. She's this tiny German woman, but she can make the biggest men cry in pain because she does such deep tissue massage. I love her but all I'll take from her is a hug. So how this guy got to know Sister Rosalind, was his sister told him to come to Minnesota and take Sister Rosalind's massage course.His sister told him it would only take 4-6 months. He said the course actually took a year and half. He was indignant, how dare his sister lie just to get him to come to MN. You can't lie to siblings after age 10 he said. I laughed. I told him my sister and I had this ongoing game. My grandma would send us a check for our birthdays. The amounts were always the same for each kid. But! What was fun to call up my sister and tell her that grandma gave me $50 - when in fact it was only $25. Pretty much we just double the amounts. She'd do a double take - maybe even a spit take and laugh. But I'd always get her. And she would get me back. This year was the best. I told her grandma gave me $100. And she believed it. Grandma's been gone for 9 years. I still got her! Lesson for that guy, yes, your siblings lie. Even me!

Elixir

Elixir
Originally uploaded by Michelle in Ireland

I had this really cool idea.


I saw a production of the Wizard of Oz done by kids. The writer of this play must've been hitting the sauce - because instead of the Cowardly Lion getting a medal of bravery - he got a bottle of courage. A bottle of courage. Nice. How do you put that around your neck - like Angelina Jolie and her vial of Billy blood? My local liquor stores has lovely bottles of courage - all kind all prices - but I'm cutting down on liquid courage because it might be eating up my stomach. I was driving out to bumbletown last night for some emergency car repairs - my car door wouldn't stay closed, then when I got to the dealership, I had to crawl out the passenger door. Stuck at the dealership, I had some time to think. I wished I had some courage. Should I go to my therapist and get some of that Abilify I see on TV. A booster to your antidepressants. I take enough meds. Then, I had this image of an old fashioned pharmacy counter. And a kindly pharmacist. In his hands, there were the meds I needed. Courage, mental courage. Or just a positive thought. My stomach was hurting from the idea of emergency car repairs (and the bill the guy showed me) so on that counter I put some Pepto Bismol. And I remembered that old Pepto Bismol commercial that showed that pink crap coating your whole stomach. There I just had some mental Pepto. Wait, I want my cholesterol numbers to come down faster - so on that virtual counter, I took a boost of my statin drug. I've had such a hard time imaging my body healing. And then I found this free online pharmacy. Online in my head.

Now for some expensive moisturizer!

Epic records time

record clock
Originally uploaded by photobotic

I go to the doctor alot. Alot. And I love being able to see the test results, lab results. Whatever. Whenever I want. I want to Google the weird medical words. And two of my clinics have this ability. Fairview and Health Partners. I can email these clinics. I usually send them the newest jokes and funny Youtube videos. Or tell them that I'm having drug interactions. The computer system that allows the patients to see their records is called Epic. The U of M does not have the Epic records (see the connection) system. Today, having a drug interaction, I had to make an old fashioned phone call. Wait on hold to talk to a nurse. No email, no links to drug studies showing the various side effects. On hold. I bet she was wearing one of those white caps. It's time U of M. Time for Epic records.

Easy Bake Oven

easy bake daffodils
Originally uploaded by boltandfrolic

"Nothing Says Lovin' Like Something From the Oven!'

I was shoved in an oven today. Ok - not like Hansel and Gretl but an MRI machine looks like an oven. And stupidly, I always say to the nurse something like "Nothing Says Lovin' Like being shoved in an oven!" No one gets it. Then I get to spend about a half hour with my head inside the MRI. They can play music while you're inside but it's almost worthless unless the music is techno - because that's what it sounds like inside. Dunk dunk dunk dadadada daaa daaa. I was in the disco machine laughing at my own joke about being shoved in an oven and I thought of actual Easy Bake Ovens. I so wish that was my photo and my oven. As a child, I wanted one so badly. The sugar addict in me wanted to have a tiny personal private midnight bakery. Mom said no fucking way. Pretty much just like that. I could bake downstairs, in a real oven, with her supervision and nagging that chubby kids shouldn't eat so much. Besides it wouldn't make Hostess products. Or Little Debbie's. Or bad cheap grocery store birthday cake. So what's the point.

It was a fun thought to get me through disco oven techno hell.

Cadbury Creme Eggs

Cadbury Creme Eggs
Originally uploaded by fuzuoko

I love Cadbury eggs. I have since I first met them. Maybe because they come out in spring. While I'd love to be able to eat the big eggs, I totally dig the little guys. I was rotating my stock - bringing some old frozen eggs (no not THAT kind) to the fridge. I thought I should try one. I heard the first tornado siren of the year going off. I opened my back door, and listened to the melting snow dripping off the roof, the tornado alarm and ate a Cadbury egg while breathing in some nice 40º air. Life is good.