The Andersons use the leftover turkey to make stuffing, gravy and turkey sandwiches the next day. They look like this:
They taste really swell. I think I’ll incorporate it into our Thanksgiving traditions.
Leftovers
Secret Talent
You wouldn’t know it by looking at me, but I play a mean air guitar. I’ve been complimented on my skill, so I know. Never mind that my left hand on the frets goes out to make a higher note instead of sliding in. It’s air guitar. I take liberties in the moment. Don’t remind me because I don’t care. Had it been a real guitar, you would have a point, but my wild hip gyrations and hair swinging count for everything. My intensity makes up for what I lack in actual guitar playing ability.
The boys and I play Guitar Hero. A little different from air guitar in that you are actually holding a (kind of) guitar with colored buttons you push on cue. And yes, I rule. Because I don’t actually have to slide my hand in the right direction. I just have to push the red and the yellow button quickly. All my years of Super Mario and Mario Kart are finally coming in to play. Thank god I spent so much time on them a few years ago because now? There is Guitar Hero 2. And what does it include? A hidden song by my much beloved Strong Bad, Trogdor. He is the burninator, after all. I know what I hope Santa brings me this year. Oh, and a second guitar, because I’m so tired of sharing mine with the boys. (ahem)
It May be Time to Pick Up
Joe: Colors. Sizes. Shapes all over the carpet. It looks like the socks have been in a traffic accident. Or part of a murder scene.
First Name Mistah
Last night, while trying to avoid more election coverage, because OK WE GET IT: things are changing and it’s about damn time, Joe and I stumbled on a gem. Were you aware that Firstname Mr. Lastname T has his own series? It’s called I Pity the Fool. Mr. T goes to places he’s needed like a dance class and to get a pedicure, and he straightens those fools out. Bonus: a slow-mo of Mr. T turning an entire circle on one foot. I think they call it a pirouette?
On the official TV Land website, you can find helpful tips from Mr. T. He’ll remind you to brush your teeth and to allow your date a chance to speak on your first date. In his birthday message, he reminds you that you aren’t getting any younger, tubby. You can even send that as a message to a dear friend. And my favorite:
Motivation for the New Parents
Are you feeling overwhelm?
Are you feeling in too deep?
You been given a special giff
A special giff that won’t let you sleep!
What did you expect?
It’s a baby!
Of course it goin to be cryin’ all the time!
Now get off your butt and go check that diaper
And congratulation on this bless event.
Seriously, I love Mr. T. So, cut the jibba jabba and go check out his website, fool. He comes in second in my heart only to Hawk, who wins because he has a beautifully coiffed feather scalp cap which I always thought looked mysteriously similar to the chicken feathers us kids had to pluck during those fun, special family times known as ‘Slaughter Day.’
It appears I have a thing for TV men with odd hair choices.
UPDATE: For my friends in other countries (because it appears that this top secret information is not readily available to people outside the USA…..?)
Stop It
Someone please tell me why, late at night, when I’m winding down and getting ready to dream about Mark Ruffalo coming over for dinner and a good game of Scrabble because he’s Joe’s best friend where they work at the meat plant, I end up drifting off thinking my name is Dixiesugar, that I’m Phil Collins‘ partner, that we just got done cleaning up an amazing drug bust and we’re walking into the club to compete in a dance-a-thon starting with Easy Lover?
I’ll tell you why. I turn on The Daily Show. I start to fall asleep. And then this commercial comes on. Why? Why?? (warning: that site is annoying but the story is informative.)
Hello. My Name is Leah and I'm an Addict. (Hello, Leah.)
I’m embarrassed to admit it, but what the hell, that’s what I do here. I’m a total addict. In previous years, I managed to keep my compulsion to a lower level, maybe needing a fix only once a week or so, but right now? It’s nightly.
Every late afternoon, I start to feel the creep. My mind starts doing the checklist of how long until I have the opportunity to ‘get right’ again. And then 8pm rolls around, Primetime starts and all is right with the world. I exhale a slow, long breath and put the gun away. I blame my crisis on being forced to relax and be in bed for weeks. Morning programming was the gateway drug and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to shake my nightly routine at this point. Thanks a lot, The View! I’ve given up. What’s the saying – Let Go and Let God? Yes, I’m sure He’s watching Dancing With the Stars, too. Can’t get enough of that crazy Jerry.
Here are my favorites and even my not-so-favorites that I must continue watching because I know what’s going on, and how often does that happen?? Heroes is THE best show. I don’t think I can express how much I love it so you’ll just have to tune in for yourself. Lost is pretty great this season. I didn’t watch it that much in previous years, but apparently, this is the magic year for me. Six Degrees, The Nine and Brothers and Sisters* are examples of shows that are not that great but since I like some of the actors and I happen to know most of the characters’ names and where they fit in with each other, I must keep watching. Studio 60 and 30 Rock, both based on SNL, are both good. I think it’s the best thing Alec Baldwin has ever done. Last night his character set up Tina Fey‘s character on a blind date with a woman. By the end of the episode, Tina agrees to someday do the sex stuff with her new friend, even though she’s straight, because she doesn’t want to lose her friendship with a female she can connect with. And what straight, single, middle-aged woman hasn’t thought about that? You’re older. You’ve learned to make compromises in your life. You’ve outgrown most of your childhood friends and it feels great to have a woman your age to go get coffee with. If you have to make out or use a strap-on to ensure you always have a date to the movies, then so be it.
Also on the roster are Gilmore Girls, which I really do feel has lost something since the creators have gone, the writing is just not quite right and I bet they don’t make it another season, and Grey’s Anatomy which is just as bad as ‘those afternoon stories’ and a good example of how crack kills because I usually have drool dripping off my chin by the end, and Ugly Betty, a surprise to me how much I like it, but America does such a great job in the lead role.
My Name is Earl and The Office are both awesome as per usual. The Biggest Loser, Dancing with the Stars, America’s Next Top Model and Desperate Housewives are Commercial Shows. Are you familiar with that term? No? Well, for those of us that don’t own a TiVo** and also hate commercials, it is imperative to have a show to turn to during the commercial breaks before your ears start to bleed. These are shows that you wouldn’t actually watch on their own per say, but because people are doing something semi-dramatic-interesting and in the case of ANTM, there are frequently portions of fighting and the rubbing of underwear on other people’s beds, it makes it worth a quick peek for 2.2 minutes at a time. More than that and you just might have to carve your brain out of your ears, so be careful.
Boston Legal keeps me captivated. The writing sometimes steps over the boundary of ‘you are a smart audience’ into ‘we are so clever! aren’t we so clever!?!’ which is a turn off, but most of the time James Spader and William Shatner make it all worth while. Especially Denny Crane’s new relationship with the midget. I kinda like Men in Trees. I know, right? Who would have thought. But I do. I have no explanation for you. Medium is almost back and that makes me happy. I know there are the unbelievers out there who don’t like Ms. Arquette for most of the same reasons I do like her.
I have no great ending to this post. I blame my addiction. My brain is full of over-dramatic and trite subplots that can be quickly wrapped up in 24 minutes or less. Let’s try this: What’s that? What do you mean? What are you saying?? There are dishes? In the sink?? That need washing?? And yes! I’m the only to get them done! I know! *sobbing* No! Don’t worry about me. Really. I’ll do them. *Sigh* Because in the pursuit of a cleaner kitchen and world peace, I must, I know. And I will! And when Veronica comes home from the hospital after getting her reconstructive surgery (made possible by body parts donated from the man that killed her mother two years ago while on safari) because of the plane crash she survived on the way to her honeymoon (when her new husband, Brock, died right after changing his will, which his first two wives will surely contest (and bring up the past when Veronica was put in the mental hospital (after she believed she could fly) ) ) and finds out the baby she gave away for adoption 10 years ago is now living next door (with her high school sweetheart who may or may not be the child’s real father) my kitchen will be clean and I’ll bake her a cake. A special cake! MMmmmm. Cake.
*Isn’t it nice that the Thirtysomething actors are showing up again? I loved that show.
**I haven’t even included in this list HBO shows like The Wire which totally rocks it and Entourage, which single handedly changed my mind about Mark Wahlberg (and holy hell if you aren’t watching them you better start) because I can watch them at any time On Demand. Yes! Kind of like a TiVo!
Bed Restlessness
Because I have been stuck in bed for the past few days, I have been absorbing way more than any person should know about Goldie (actually very smart!) and Kate (as sweet as she appears!), J-Lo (actually has a legitimate music career!), Cameron Diaz (i would like my ass to look like hers in roos!), the right way to fold a t-shirt courtesy of Martha Stewart (i don’t care! i roll mine!), who incidentally, licked jam off of David Letterman’s finger last night (it looked like blood!), watching Kelly Ripa pick a splinter out of Regis’s foot, (I AM NOT A FOOT PERSON!!) and watching episodes of Project Runway that I’ve seen probably five times but still enjoy way too much (yay! vincent is finally out!).
A very thoughtful person sent me a box of books, music and even a game to help my mind not turn into a bowl of oatmeal. Thank you, Amy. And, my husband thanks you since it keeps me from being quite as crabby.
Ramblings
Is there a statute of limitations on how long the dirty clothes can stay in the pile in the middle of the living room? If there is, I think I may be pushing the limit. That and the sacks of used grocery bags, the hundreds and hundreds of used grocery bags sitting by the front door waiting to go to Whole Foods to be recycled.
I could actually pick up the dirty clothes and take them into the garage where the washer is. OR I could ACTUALLY put them IN the washer. Just a suggestion I’m making to myself. Since, you know, I like clean underwear and I might need some someday.
The downstairs bathroom is not working. That is not that big a deal since we have two of them upstairs, but after a few days, it gets OLD running upstairs every time you need to tinkle. We tend to wait until the last possible second to make the trip which I’m sure is hell on our kidneys but looks really entertaining when the Jehovah Witnesses drop by and get to witness the Pee Dance.
So, you might ask, why haven’t we fixed it yet? Well, a little thing called money, as in, not enough of it quite yet. But soon! Soon there will be fixed bathrooms for all!
Tonight is Barcamp Geek Meetup in Santa Monica. I think we will go. I need more geeks in my life.
ps. Go see Amanda’s head in a cowgirl hat keep popping up in her header.
Sweet Nothings
Exhausted both mentally and physically to the point of forgetting my own phone number and how to put on my shoes, snuggling with Joe was high on my priority list when I got home. It wasn’t until tonight that we both had the time and quasi-energy at the same time to attempt a snuggle-fest. We spooned on the bed, content to be together, and the sweet nothings ensued.
Me: What are you thinking about?
Him: Upholstery.
No, I Never Thought I Could Dance, Really.
Am I the only one that thinks that the freestyle dancing they do on So, You Think You Can Dance? when they are trying to save their assess looks like crap? I just can’t take it seriously. Waving their arms to and fro. They jump high, swoop low and pirouette – with So Much Feeling. The swishing. The tumbling. The fake pulling the sky towards you and then collapsing in a heap? Why?
As a visual artist, you think I might be able to appreciate it more since my art is all about unreserved expression. But, nope. They look like idiots to me. I can totally get behind the couples dancing. The Salsa, Merengue, Quick Step – yes, yes, yes. I love it. My left foot starts shaking to the beat and when I notice and try to keep it still, the next thing I know, my big toe is tapping. I even like the Hip Hop routines. Can’t we just keep all those around and get rid of the freestyle crap? Who do I need to talk to?
Random
I’m kind of a health-nut eater. I like organic, all natural etc. etc. But for some reason, Cap’n Crunch Berries makes me swoon in ecstasy. The cereal is particularly crunchy and cuts the crap out of the roof of my mouth and it hurts for a few days. I know before I eat it that when I finish the bowl, within minutes, my mouth will hurt. And still I eat. I gave up meth, but don’t ask me to give up my Crunch Berries.
~~
While staying in and doing my best to indulge in my own independence by not participating in Independence Day, I watch about an hour of Janice Dickinson that I can never get back. She would like to hire you because you move her with your great ethnic looks. But she would not like to hire your nose, so you’ll need to get that done. Also, she has two words for you: ‘Out!’
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I watched the mama bird for weeks. She religiously stayed at the nest and every time I opened the sliding glass door to go in the yard, she flew out of the rafters right above my head to the tree at the edge of the fence. Sometimes she would call at me a little, not sure if I was a danger to her eggs or not, but making some noise to distract me all the same. She tried to be patient while I sat in the swing, having my nightly smoke, rocking back and forth, back and forth. I would try to soothe her while I soothed myself with the steady rhythm.
One evening, I heard small and insistent peeps coming from the nest. The mama bird flew to the fence as expected, but then came three feet in front of me on the ground, scolding. How large I must have looked to her; so threatening. And yet, she was unafraid and lectured me soundly.
A few weeks later, as I unwound in the swing, I noticed her absence. The familiar swoosh as I came out the door had been missing. In the dwindling light, I noticed two shapes on the cement slightly to the right. And there they were: her babies, still and quiet, legs stiff. I was startled. Then sad. Then outraged on their behalf. And then from the left, I saw the mama bird flying in, worm in her mouth. She walked to one and then the other, questioning them, asking them to wake up and take a bite. And then I saw the other bugs and worms around them in a cluster here and there. She had been at it for hours. There were ants coming in, marching from the crack in the cement, looking at the bugs, sure, because they were there, but more importantly, exploring the babies. I looked at their fully formed wings, their tiny beaks, and wondered allowed what had happened? She had been so diligent! So ferociously diligent!
We wrapped them in paper and set them in the rubbish bin, Joe helping out with the wrapping since I couldn’t bare it. And we kept our thoughts to ourselves. And I cried a little for the mama and her babies that would never fly.
Things Stuck in My Head
“After much deep and profound brain things inside my head…”
From Madagascar, which I didn’t see when it came out because I thought it would be so dumb, and also, my kids are older and weren’t interested in seeing it and to go to an animated movie by yourself is making a bigger commitment to my inner child than I’m willing to make unless I really, really like it. And, as I said, I didn’t think I would. Oh, how wrong I was. It’s on HBO right now and I think I’ve seen it about 15 times partially and 3 times all the way through. Ali G is the voice of the Lemur King, who says the above quote. It drove me crazy trying to figure out who the voice was, since I couldn’t quite place it but I knew I knew it. Why didn’t I look it up right away, you might ask? It’s a dumb game Joe and I play – where we try to name the voices without needing Google. I feel so much pride in my victory when I recognize the voices all on my own, and most importantly, before Joe.
“I exuberate fantastic-isms.” “Mer-man! *cough* *cough* Mer-man!”
Zoolander. I do not like most of Ben Stiller’s work. But I do love this movie.
“I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind. There was something so pleasant about that phase. Even your emotions have an echo in so much space.” and “And I hope that you are having the time of your life. But think twice. That’s my only advice.”
Gnarls Barkley, Crazy Nelly Furtado’s live version is pretty nice, too.
By the way, it’s summer. Things in my life have been turned upside down in so many ways but the best way, is that the kids are around more. Yes, they tease more. Yes, it drives me crazy. Yes, I end up threatening to ground someone, after which, we all have a good laugh because the last time I actually grounded someone was about 8 years ago, and even then, they might not have deserved it. Now when I say it, it’s a way to introduce humor. My kids are so easy going and usually exhausted by whichever sport they are in and by the increasingly alarming amounts of homework they bring home. But right now, homework and sports-less, they use their energy for evil by teasing each other. Devon, age 17 is the worst one. I know exactly where he is in the house because of the screaming coming from that direction.
In a week, we should be in Oregon on a sandy beach enjoying the vacation we’ve had planned for a year with my sister and her family. But we won’t. Extenuating circumstances have created a world with no Oregon beach in it and the loss of a $500 deposit. When I get done sobbing, wailing and gnashing my teeth I might try to figure out an alternate vacation plan. And I better hurry because if I don’t figure out what to do with my 2 weeks of endlessly open vacation time with four teenaged and very adult-sized and hungry children with bottomless energy in a positive and creative direction, someone is going to get SO grounded.