And did I mention the booze?

I accomplished maybe about 60% of the socializing I set out to do over the holiday social season.
I Did:
None of the lunches.
A ll of the dinners.
4 out of 7 of the parties.
2 shows
1 spontaneous go out for a drink.
And what I realize is that, especially if you add in one of the last parties I went to before “the season”, I just don’t really fit in anywhere.

I almost fit with the philosophy students circle except the part where they are mostly 25 years younger than me and pretty dang boozy.

I almost fit in with the folks I know from high school and related crews except for the part where I say things and then get the really, really strange looks. I had realized this before, about 15 years ago, when I was at a cocktail party with that general group of folks. The conversation was about murderers and serial killers, so I bit and started talking about all the murderers and murderees that I’ve known. And they all moved away from me on the couch there. No really, it was just like Alice’s restaurant. I should have immediately claimed to have been arrested for creating a nuisance. But they do have really classy booze.

There’s another group I have occasionally tried to hang around. They all live in places like Whitmore Lake, Howell, Fowlerville, Grass Lake and Belleville. There’s a lot of hairdressers and grownup “bomb dudes”. A lot , a lot, a lot of booze. A lot of conversations about kids and sports and bars and work and concerts and their shared history which I’m not a part of and lawn care and hair products. That one is so not working for me that I had already decided a few weeks ago that I am definitely just not going around that one anymore.

There is an adjunct, related group to that one, which is a slightly closer fit in the sense that it is the musical and entertainment business oriented people derived from the former group. There the boozy mess club has found it’s permanent headquarters. And it smells pretty bad. I can only do quickie fly-bys.

There is my very local, very fabulous, gay men scene. That one is a just a little obvious. I am not a gay man. If I am, then I’m one in a woman's body, which doesn’t get you very far points wise. I do ok in that scene, except that I’m broke, not very fabulous, I don’t care about fashion and therefore don’t have nice clothes to do things in, and I suspect my days of serious hagging are pretty much behind me. And again I don’t dig the bar part, as well as that the shredding really gets to me. If I am going to talk about you, and I definitely am, it’s to analyze, analyze, analyze. That’s just what I do. But I don’t want to savage someone just to get the high score.

There are some singleton folk like DramaMama, Danilo, Psyche, Nigel and Floyd’sMom etc. etc. All fine folk I’m sure but I rarely see some of them and anyway I don’t “hang in their scenes”. I know them and them alone, it’s very likely that I would not be a good match with the rest of their peeps.

As for family, well, I can’t even go there from here.

Beating up the dough

K demos strudlin'

It's that time of year again. And as promised...

More butter please

Eh Voila

Blame it on the boogie

Blame everything on the yard sale
No really. It really is it’s fault. It put me so far behind in everything:
School reading
Housework (and created extra)
Bill Paying
Eating properly
Blogging

I have had to just get my hyper-focus on all week and put my life back together. So that’s that and that’s all done. Now I have to go uptown and try to undue some of the damage neglecting the bills has done. I may have lost my safe deposit box. That would really suck.....

i haven’t even had time to read the newspaper since Sunday. I keep buying ‘em, they keep piling up, maybe tomorrow.....

Shoooo-ee Dang!!!

Thank you Jeebus, jofus and Ramy it’s over! (For now).
I really don’t know why it’s so hard. Because it’s not that hard. But yet it’s really, really, really hard. And stressful.

In a way it’s been really interesting to learn so much (not just the schoolwork but) about my obsessive self. I have spent the last two years trying to learn a whole new balance with a newly unleashed, facet of my personality. As always when the one facet is in dominance other facets must, of necessity, retreat or ooze their way around the emergent one forcing new pathways and channels for their expression. It’s always fascinating to watch.

I suppose some would think that it’s vaguely creepy to be so interested in my own “stuff”. My feeling is, how else would I learn “stuff” if not by watching my own “stuff” and picking it apart down to the very fibrous, matted, and fairly gooey nap?

The thing I am not so skilled at (yet) is time management. Therefore I apologize to those of you I have somewhat blown off, particularly in this last month. I’ll see you next weekend and do my best to make up for it.

Incidentally I finally figured out where that Burton Cummings earworm came from. So very sad to say, but it’s currently being used as a jingle for a french fry commercial. Sigh, I am SO lame.

OK ladies

I gotta tell you, while I love you all lots, I simply can’t do this “let’s do lunch” thing that turns into 4 -6 hours of mucking about due to issues with your kids, husbands/SO’s, your unorganized life or whatever the drama of the day happens to be.

First and foremost - Dudettes please realize, I’m diabetic and on insulin. When I plan lunch at 1:00pm I need to be eating very close to that time. Please do not give me attitude when I’m starting to get really grouchy and cranky around a quarter to 3 when you haven’t managed to get your shit together yet to actually sit down at the restaurant yet.

Which is another issue - that I’m a little over being the wait staffs least favourite customer ever because of needing to be seated at the very end of lunch. You then want to draw it out for ages because you don’t want to go home to the chaos.
When the staff is giving us the constant fisheye, I’m not really having fun anymore.

For me, being broke and isolated, going out is meant to be a really huge treat. I get to do it maybe 6 -8 times a year. I realize that you may be in a similar situation having kids and all, so why not make it super pleasant instead of really stressful?

Here is a conglomed scenario as a broad example of what has occurred the last 3 times I tried this:
The time is set for 1pm. The morning confirmation call comes in around 10am. Everything is set, here’s the plan, I’ll see you at 1pm.
Around 12:30 the first delay is phoned in, move it up to 1:30. I go to the prearranged spot at that time.
2pm - the cell phone rings - we’re on our way.
2:30pm - I think we’re at the wrong place, where are you?
2:45pm - Go ahead and sit down I have to take little Suprema to the bathroom.
3pm. - Ok so what are we having? Oh well apparently several martinis for you.
In between - 8 thousand interruptions of the juicy for you to have some sort of wrangle with your kid.
4:15 - “Lets go to your house for coffee.”
5:15 - “Well I guess I should get home, girrrlll you have got me in so much trouble with what’s his name”.
Next time I call your house - Definite attitude from what’s his name.

And here’s the kicker (for me anyway) I WAS READY AT 10!!!

Any day now

I’m really supposed to be doing homework. Wonder if that is really going to happen? I suppose as I kinda want to go to Swank’o’Rama tonight I probably should.

I need to get out a little, this for me is the first of the horrordays festives. This one is not so much about the season as much as about my friend who owns several businesses doin’ a little do for a combination of friends and clients.

Some of her clients are classic examples of the neauveau riche, I have come close to drink, face, throwing, activities at these things previously due to their outrageously gauche and idiotic snobbery. But even that is entertaining in it’s own fashion.
I could probably have some fun with a little class war drama. And considering the shit I’ve been seeing my working class friends dealing with the past couple years, throwing a drink or two and possibly indulging in some light fisticuffs with some republicans might be cathartic.
I wish Nitro and Eva Destruction were going though. It would be nice to have a few buds around. I already know you guys aren’t coming. I’m just psychic that way.

All right off to compare and contrast various poems and poets against other ones and write “breaking down an essays arguments in the critical thinking vein” papers and read South American mythology and read “The Rose Tattoo” and continue my Ginsberg project and on and on and on.

When semester break comes I get 20 days off with no freakin’ homework. Any day now.

Local Lurkers

It occurs to me, through looking over my stats, that there are quite a few lurkers who show up fairly consistently from here or very near here. This leads me to think that the likelihood is good that you know me but apparently don’t have anything to say to me?!

Now I’m not talking about you folks I know- Nitro, Radiolady, Nigel, T.Coccomotion et al. my sister, Dali etc. I know who all of you are and when you show up.

But what is up with this? I expose myself to your scrutiny but you don’t feel like saying hi? Hmmphh not very neighborly if you ask me.

My social theory is that if I like what someone is doing enough to come back even semi-regularly or if I think the likelihood is good that I’ll meet them eventually at a club or a party, I comment at least once or twice just to give them the opportunity to stare blankly at me when I introduce myself to them by saying archly “I’m Stella”.

I know I have not completely kept up with my pact to respond politely to each and every comment, this is a failing on my part and I will try to be better about it, but in the meanwhile why don’t some of you lurkers give the rest of us something to talk about for once.

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As I live in America, and therefore it was a national holiday (which we don't have enough of, look at those countries with all those Bank Holidays), I, of course, rather than take my day to myself, invited people over for food.
A lot of my life is centered around food, in my house I'm the only one who cooks. It also happens that I'm a fairly superlative cook. I'm not just saying that to brag, its pretty widely believed to be true. Sometimes, you just have a talent and thats that.
There's not really any arrogance necessary because you didn't actually have much to do with it other than develop it or deny it.
I tend to think of barbecuing as a really good way to prove your skills. Cooking over an unregulated heat source you have to adjust your timing, attentiveness and be really flexible. You must also have good prep work and theories. One of my theories is marinade the shit out of things. I like to push the envelope on marination. Because I love Jerry and Sylvia Anderson I think of it as Super-marionation. I try to keep the meat in sauce as long as I can before the guests, were they to ask how long it sat in there, would refuse the food from knowing.
My current favourites are my recipes for teriyaki flank steak, and my version of Tandoori chicken. The Tandoori is really an imitation which involves lots of onions, yoghurt (I make my own), Garam Masala, Hing, Sea-salt, and paprika for colour. I would use cochineal but its a little harder to find. Uncle Bunny suggested a little saffron, he may just have something there.
I also specialise in what I call poverty cooking, which is to take any ingredients at hand and make them into something good. So I cleaned out the fridge for side dishes.
I was only going to have one or two people over, but there was a lot of food and I just knew the usual supects would be sitting at home without having things to do and that can be annoying and/or depressing when you think everyone else is doing something fun. So I invited a crew.
The food was awesome, and not just mine. Uncle Bunny brought a fabulous Bread Salad Fatoush and an amazing fruit shortcake for which he made ginger scones as the shortcake. Uncle Bunny has the magic pastry touch that I don't have. My huge failing as a cook is that I cannot make pie crust, biscuits and scones. I'm contemplating taking a class in pastry offered by one of my favourite customers at the market where I work part-time. I must ferret out the secret of the flaky.
There was an impressive thunderstorm and a nice time was had by all. Since in the last few years I've pretty much abandoned the backyard for the porch, we were able to kick back and enjoy the weather without getting scorched or soaked.
I imagine to myself that the people that go by in their cars, watching me wield my BBQ mop with such adroitness, are really wishing they could come too.
They're too shy or conditioned to ask I suppose, I'd think it potentially could be an interesting way to meet some new folk.
Maybe they have a great BBQ chef in their own life already. I hope so.