Chicken Spaghetti

Since we (finally) got groceries in the house, I have re-ignited my flaming hot love affair with make-ahead dinners.  I just finished preparing PW’s Chicken Spaghetti, with a few modifications.  I used a full 12-ounce package of thin spaghetti and didn’t bother with measuring it.  Instead of boiling a cut-up fryer, I sauteed about a pound of boneless, skinless chicken tenderloin in olive oil and a healthy amount of Poultry Magic.  I skipped the jar of diced pimentos because last time I made the dish, I didn’t think they added enough to it to justify hunting down and paying for diced pimentos.  I halved the amount of cheese (out of necessity), doubled the Lawry’s, and skipped the cayenne pepper, substituting several dashes of Tabasco sauce instead.

When dinner time rolls around, I will just have to pop my casserole in the oven and cut up some tomatoes and green onions to accompany my bagged salad.  Yeah, it’s kind of cheating, but it beats the hell out of the Dollar Menu.

Holidaze

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and that is freakish to me.  It doesn’t FEEL like Thanksgiving.  I haven’t been running around like a chicken with my head cut off from one store to the next in search of a vanilla bean.  There has been no shopping at all, even.  I had to throw a fit to get the man to buy toilet paper.

I haven’t been baking.  I didn’t spend today preparing.  There will be no company tomorrow.  And I won’t see my family.

It feels like an empty excuse for a holiday, which it pretty much is.

It’s not going to completely suck.  After the football game (ugh), we are going to one of my favorite restaurants, for which I have a (you guessed it) coupon.  That will be a welcome change from the stuff we normally eat.  But it’s just completely beyond weird that there won’t be pumpkin pie. 

I sincerely hope that this is the last Thanksgiving where I won’t get to see my family.  I miss them a lot, and though I’d never want to live where they do, it seems so silly that we can’t manage to get together — especially with gas at $1.59 a gallon.

Holidays are my “thing,” as a friend recently pointed out.  I like to host.  I like to decorate.  I like to cook.  I look forward to them the way a teenaged girl looks forward to prom, if not more so.  And this year, I can’t even do the holidays in my own home.  I mean, the holidays will pass, and I do have somewhere to live, and that’s something to be grateful for… Sigh.  The end.

Virginia Slim Ultra Light 120 Menthol, In Case You Were Wondering

I grew up in a house with two parents who were smokers.  I loathed their habit.  I was sick frequently, and I’m pretty sure that my constant exposure to secondhand smoke had something to do with it.  I think it’s irresponsible and just generally not nice to expose your kids, or even unwilling strangers, to your cigarette smoke.

This continued to be true as I became an on-again, off-again smoker in adulthood.  Yep, I know, it’s a disgusting habit.  And I am the most deplorable type of smoker because I am not currently and have not ever been addicted to nicotine.  I smoke because I enjoy it, and I have no problem at all with smoking a pack (or more) in a day, then not touching a single cigarette for weeks or months or even years.

I have always been a skeptical supporter of smoking bans in restaurants.  Kids go to restaurants, old people go to restaurants, people with a variety of health conditions go to restaurants, and I think it’s a little inconsiderate to subject all of those people to your unwanted smoke.  On the other hand, I’m also a strong supporter of personal rights and it makes me cringe a little to see the government worried about where people light up instead of focusing on what I consider to be real issues.  I think a nice solution would be to ban “smoking sections” and instead allow restaurants to choose whether they are smoking establishments or not.  I feel like it should be up to the people who own the restaurant, who would undoubtedly choose whichever option was the most popular among their clientele.  Don’t want to be around cigarette smoke?  Go to a non-smoking establishment.  Want to light up after (or during) your meal?  Go to a restaurant that does allow smoking.

The one thing that drives me completely batty, though, is the motherfuckers who overstep their boundaries by seriously suggesting that smoking should be banned in bars.  IN BARS, PEOPLE?  What is a bar?  It’s a place where you go to get fucked up.  It is not a place where you take the kids to enjoy salad and apple slices.  It is not a place where you take Grandma.  It is a place where you go to get fucking drunk, and smoking cigarettes makes being fucking drunk even more fun.

Dallas appears to be very close to banning smoking in bars.  I already can’t smoke at Jason’s Deli, or at Chipotle, or at any of my other favorite restaurants.  And that’s fine.  I’ve got no real problem with that.  But to ban smoking in bars is just a ridiculous way for non-smokers to try and regulate the activities of everyone around them.  I seriously wish people would give up on trying to make bars a “healthier” place.  They are, practically by definition, dens of iniquity.  And I like it that way.

Go Coupon Lady!

The Dallas Morning News did a piece on a lady who is using coupons to buy her entire Thanksgiving spread for sixteen dollars and change.  Of course, I don’t feel like it’s “complete” because she didn’t buy stuff for pies, green bean casserole, etc.  But being a coupon shopper, she probably already has those items stockpiled… And whether that is the case or not, her total started out over $60, so it’s a heck of an accomplishment!

I, of course, am not allowed to spend money on stupid things like newspapers with coupons in them.  Obviously I could if I had my own money, but I don’t.  It doesn’t really matter, because I also am not able to grocery shop properly.  What good is a coupon if you can’t use it?  Who needs free stuff when you have beans in the pantry?

Doldrums

Conversations in my life sometimes go like this:

Me: Yeah, because we really need the air conditioner on when it’s 45 degrees outside.
The Man: Just don’t even talk to me right now.

…and it makes me sad.  I can’t really complain too much because I do sometimes start these things with a sarcastic comment (see above).  But usually when I do, it’s because I’m either already upset about something, or because what’s going on is REALLY DUMB (like running an air conditioner in the car when it’s 45 degrees outside). Argh.

So… yeah.  Basically, I am feeling lonely.  I spent some time with a good friend yesterday, and that was cool, but now I am back to the daily grind.  I have laundry to do, bathrooms to clean, dishes to wash, a refrigerator to scrub out, crap to unpack (still), a bedroom to clean, etc.  I also have absolutely zero energy and my only motivation is to not get bitched at.  Even something as simple as fixing my hair seems like it just takes too much effort.

My horoscope for today has indicated that I will be at odds with someone who is “not fully grounded in reality.”  Hah!  How is that different from any other day?

Succinct

I’m feeling pretty far away from the world at large. 

Not really sad.  Not really depressed.  Just… removed.

It’s Friday Night

I could use a stiff drink right now.  Or, you know, several.

I decided today that I want to get married and have a family.  I’m still not a hundred percent sold on the idea that the children need to come from my uterus, but yeah, that’s the gist of it.  Of course, my life is a million miles away from any place that would allow me to do the whole married with kids thing.  And I won’t even address the issue of having a partner.

The man is not speaking to me this evening and I don’t know why.  I wish it bothered me less.  Oh well.

I wrote something.  I used to write fiction constantly and I don’t do it anymore.  This is a good first step.  This thing that I wrote, or that I started writing, might be it.  You know, the thing I was always supposed to write.

Feeling generally vacant right now.  And sad.

Yes, We Can

For the most part, I stopped writing about politics four years ago.  I voted for Al Gore in 2000 and watched Bush get elected by the Supreme Court, and didn’t lose hope that it would get better.  A botched election wasn’t enough to kill my optimism.  But the 2004 election, when people ACTUALLY ELECTED Bush, was enough.  I decided that this country deserved what it was going to get and that I didn’t give a damn. 

I pulled away from the political scene, largely kept my views to myself, and started leaning more and more libertarian with every passing day.  My justification was that the goverment’s primary responsibilities are (or should be) paving the roads and running the school system, and that since the goverment fucks those two things up so badly, it shouldn’t be assigned many other tasks.  I hoped for and wanted change, but it didn’t sink in until Monday that this could actually happen.  I expected dirty tricks, to say the least.

I know that Barack Obama is not a cure-all for what ills the nation, but above all else, his campaign has restored hope… Not just within the black community, but in all those who lost hope.  And there have been more than a few of us.

I had this conversation with a parade-raining friend last night:

Friend: I can’t believe you supported Obama.  Or that he won.  This country is going straight to hell.
Me: Isn’t it kind of ALREADY THERE?
Friend: Huh?
Me: Look, you people got what you wanted for eight years.  An uber-conservative has been running this country for, no kidding, EIGHT YEARS.  And this is where we have ended up.
Friend: Surely you’re not trying to blame the economy on Bush.
Me: Nah, he’s not smart enough to have engineered something like this anyway.  My point is that you got what you wanted, it ended badly, and it’s time for something new.

So really, there was never much chance of me being a Republican in the first place.  I was against the war from the outset.  Fearmongering doesn’t work on me. Emotional appeals at saving “the children” don’t work on me.  The whole God thing doesn’t work on me either.

I’d like to clarify one thing, though.  I’m not against “the children.”  In fact, I am in favor of them.  I am in favor of an economic climate that allows families to thrive.  I’m in favor of 50-50 custody arrangements.  I’m in favor of strong legislation and funding for the foster care program.  I’m in favor of free health care for children.  I support funding for pre-school programs.  I believe that our schools should be at the top of our list of priorities.

And yes, I *am* in favor of allowing gays to adopt.  This is primarily because I don’t see them as some other section of society.  I probably run with a somewhat racier crowd than the Christian conservatives, but nonetheless, some of my best friends are bisexual.  My neighbors are gay.  There was a damned Top 40 song entitled “I Kissed A Girl,” for crying out loud.  Studies show, time and time again, that being gay does not mean one has a proclivity for molesting children.  Studies also show that children raised in gay families are NOT more likely to “become” gay.  I would posit that this is because, generally speaking, one does not BECOME gay.  Besides which, it has nothing to do with one’s ability to raise children.  I would much rather see children raised by willing, loving gay parents than in foster care.

And so, for the first time in history, I end one of these rants with a smile… Because I finally believe we have taken a step closer to something positive, both politically and socially.

I Have Just One Thing To Say

w00t!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’d Like To Break Down But I Don’t Have The Time

Today is a monumental day in American history.

I also got a call from a recruiter about a job that actually wouldn’t suck.  On the rare occasions that I’m able to find openings in my field, I am grateful for my career’s twisting, winding path that has allowed me to do technical writing and editing as well as project management.

This one wouldn’t pay quite as competitively as the “good” jobs I’ve had in the past, but it does pay a good deal more than clerical work or, heaven forbid, working in another gas station.  Plus there are benefits.  Health insurance would be a welcome addition to my life.