"You're still the one"

You're still the one -- I want to talk to in bed
Still the one -- that turns my head
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

Anybody remember that song from Orleans in 1975? If I remember it right, the local Channel 13 used it in their commercials that year, or a year sometime soon. In '75, I would of been six? Seven? That's consistent with the emotion it draws up for me, the sound of the t.v., the feel of neighborhood nights and playing, being called in at dark.

Sunday nights often bring back that odd sort of emotion. "Is all my homework done?" "What time do I need to go to bed tonight?" "But I've had such a good weekend, I don't want it to end." My dad used to say "Six o'clock comes early, son." It would always annoy me, but what annoyed me the most was that he was right. I hear it all the time in my head when I'm doing that thing I do - procrastinating, putting bed off. Puttering around. Flipping channels and now surfing for that one last post or Myspace message. I even tell myself "Six o'clock comes early" in a sort of humorous homage to him. Gosh, he always went to bed early. I think his shift started at 8a.m. and he's one of those morning sit and drink coffee guys. Still does. (thankfully Dad is still very much alive ).

So it's after 9p.m. now. I've got two big meetings tomorrow and one is at 9a.m. I intended to do a couple more things around the house before bed, but I let the computer take up my time. But it's all stuff that will still be here tomorrow. Besides, it was for a good cause ~ I scanned some old photo's and sent to some friends, for the fun of it. Photo's from high school years. Things I think they'll appreciate.

But I still sometimes miss summer nights in my cul de sac neighborhood. And I still feel, not so much Monday morning sneaking in on me, as Saturday & Sunday slipping away. And I still think Channel 13 has never had a better jingle than "You're still the one."

Sunday afternoon

My friend Bubbles said to her husband recently, “I don’t like Midtown. You don’t like Midtown, you just like to say you like Midtown.” With basic understanding of the English language, and understanding what Midtowners like to believe they are, I understood what she was saying. But today, I lived it.

Aside from the fact that Midtown apartments like mine have “charm”, which loosely translates into built 1970’s and prior (mine has two windows sealed shut and one repaired with plexiglass). Here are two examples of “Midtown.”

It’s the patio at my favorite pizza place. Is that really somewhere that your dog belongs? Should a waitress really have to bring you water for your dog? If it’s against the health codes to have your dog inside the building, why is it any different on the patio? You have the dog – keep it the fruck at your house or take it somewhere that is generally considered animal friendly – like a big open park. But not to a restaurant.

And speaking of the park, my bad for not realizing today is Earth Day and there would be monster sized crowd there. I get that the place will smell like incense and patchouli*. But do you really think that no one notices that it’s pot you’re smoking because after you take a drag off of it, you hide it behind your back? Hello? What about all those people behind you? Do you think it’s a natural pose to have your arm stuck that far back? Do you think the patchouli scent of the unwashed person 6 feet down masks the scent of your burning weed?

I’m beginning to wonder if I really like Midtown, or if I just like to say I do.

On a slightly different, yet similar note: In the slow moving traffic of people driving out of the park, why did it bother the blonde girl that the passenger in the car ahead of hers kept opening his door? They were going slow enough he could of stepped out and walked. The next car in front of him was just as slow, so it’s not like he was slowing anything down. And did she think at that speed, yelling “SHUT YOUR DOOR RETARD!” was really polite, or keeping in the spirit of Earth Day, or even smart considering he looked like a thug who wouldn’t be scared of her?

And how about the guy in the left turn lane in front of me, who decided he really wanted to go straight. Which wouldn’t bother me except, with all the traffic in the going-straight lane next to us, I lost time when I could have turned left, just sitting behind him, waiting. Dork.

You know, I just had to cut short my walk, my attempt to do a 20 minute brisk walk to see handsome shirtless guys to help my health in the park. I think all it did was raise my blood pressure.

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On a happy note, I ran in Macy's today to use my Goldsmith's gift card (oh, remember the post from a couple of months ago?) I decided that, after my party last night where I was practically cookware-less, I could use that money to get some cookware. Uh - wrong. Have you seen the price of cookware at Macy's. That stuff ain't cheap. Even the cheap stuff is $100. So I had decided on a set of stainless steel mixing bowls. Because you know, I really don't have any mixing bowls either. But then on a lark, I asked the lady if "those sets over there ever went on sale." She said, "They just went off sale yesterday." aaaaawwwwww. But she checked the flyer for the sale this Thursday, and the stainless steel starter set goes on sale for $30. I think a starter set sounds just fine, since I'll just be starting to cook! So I can buy that and the mixing bowls with the gift card. She said I can come after work, they never sell out. I'm quite excited.

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Now to think of what to get MyFella when he graduates in two weeks with his Associates degree in I.T.
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* A favorite bumper sticker seen a few years ago: Patchouli is not a substitute for soap.

Sunday morning

Sunday morning:
Jamie has had a nasal drip and a rattling cough. Trying hard to remind myself that he's not mine, I wondered why his mother hadn't taken him to the doctor yet. "It's a productive cough" MyFella said was her response. Yeah, productive enough that Friday night/Saturday morning he woke at 2a.m. and 4a.m. gagging/throwing up from all the bile in his belly. Saturday night/Sunday morning at 5a.m. he couldn't break the hacking cough.

We cheated and did what I think you should almost never do - gave him my prescriptions. My doctor gave me Allegra and a script for a cough syrup for the same symptoms a few weeks ago. The cough syrup seemed to help him have a good day yesterday, but wasn't enough last night.

Given his tendency for these sorts of things to turn into a hospital stay, I would say again to the world, "WHY hasn't his mother taken him to the doctor yet?" Perhaps when she sits up tonight with him, she'll reconsider just how productive his cough is.

According to the blue I can see through my window blinds and the constant chirping from the birds, it may be a pretty day outside. I think we're going to go to church and then possibly a bite of lunch before they go home. I've offered to take Jamie to church and let MyFella work on his homework for that hour and a half. He swears he'll have time when he gets home, though I see his assignment and some pencil sketch here next to the laptop.

On unrelated news, he wants a laptop with his economic stimulus, and I'm urging him to consider putting it towards an Apple. They're so supposed to be "all that" for some of the most astute I.T. types. And you know how I feel about peer pressure and marketing. "If the commercials say it's good, it must be." or "If all those other people are jumping off the bridge, maybe we should too."

I think I wish I had gotten one, though I've been happy with my little Acer here. But I just think it's something to consider, something 'a notch above' for someone like him.

Did I mention my meeting tomorrow afternoon with the big wig at work? Can't get much higher than him. All to talk about my little ol' department. I've been worrying about what to wear for nigh on a week now. I think I've settled on dark blue docker style pants (practically brand new) and a contrasting solid blue shirt. Or perhaps blue and white striped. I fear I'll end up wearing one and taking another, lest I spell a Diet Coke this one day. I feel pretty good about the meeting, and I know it's part of the reason I've had the two prior meetings with my director and her boss. They have been so positive about my knowledge and understanding of the decline in my numbers ~ not accusatory and blaming. I've got my information together, have little folders for take-away if they want them. So I feel a bit nervous but good.

Yesterday we went to the Farmer's Market downtown. Wasn't very big, but they tell me the first day wasn't supposed to be until May. A wee bit windy, but still a fun and free outing. Lunch at a little place called the Happy Mexican and even MyFella admitted it was pretty good food. Though I still don't know why I constantly subject him to Mexican, knowing he doesn't particularly like it. Then the afternoon at the zoo. Beautiful day for it. I was comfortable in jeans and a short sleeved tee. We couldn't get Jamie to touch a huge boa they had on the ground. But then again, I didn't touch it either. It was quite the afternoon walk for us.

I wonder if perhaps we wore out Jamie, and it was part of the reason he was grumbly last night. MyFella said he said a couple of times something about 'going to town' so he thinks Jamie got it in his head we were going somewhere. And he does love to go. I don't know. He's just not usually so grumbly. Oh well. Guess we all have our moments.

A death at a funeral

In just a little bit, Noodle, Skeeter, Sass & Spyder will be over for funeral-movie night. It's an idea I stole from a friend who had movie night with Sordid Lives. We're doing it with A Death at a Funeral. The only rule is you serve/bring food that you would take to a home for a funeral. According to your regional language slang, it's "pot luck" or "bring a dish." My friend Red calls it "drag a dish."

I've got on the menu:

Sweet tea. (even with the advances of diabetes and obesity, you still wouldn't take unsweet tea to a home of the bereaved)
Chicken spaghetti
Green bean casserole.

The chicken spaghetti is not my Mother's recipe. I tried to reach her today. My Dad said "She's not here. She's gone to W-M." I said, "Did she take the cell?" (because they share one) and he said "No, it's on her desk at work. Maybe I can help you." "I need her recipe for chicken spaghetti." "No, I can't help you." So I found a couple of recipes on the internet and loosely matched one. Very loosely. It could be a hot mess o' cheesy chicken noodles for all I know.
a
aghh[]

Those comments are courtesy of MyFella's little brother, Jamie. As I was saying, I have never before made green bean casserole or ad hoc made chicken spaghetti. I know my Mom has a real good recipe that calls for actually cooking a chicken!

Ah, they're here. Catch you later.

later . . .
Party's over and I think everyone had a good time. Jamie was a grumbly grouch and I think he upset the Urchins some. He's usually very social.

The movie is quite funny, very enjoyable. We'll rate it pretty high on Netflix.

Noodle brought Sister Schubert rolls with the little weenies in them. I didn't even know they existed! They're wonderful! And she made rice krispy treats ~ wonderful!

Oh - for cheatin' fast chicken rotel.

About 16 ounces of dried noodles, boiled up and ready. (I used two packages left over from something else, so I had two different kinds of noodles)
Half a block of two pounds of Velveeta (yeah, that's just one pound)
One can of cream of onion soup (save a couple of big spoon fulls for next recipe)
Two cans of regular rotel (one just didn't give it enough flavor)
Three of the large cans of chunk chicken. (I told you this was cheating)
I boiled the noodles (MyFella did) separately. We threw everything else in the crock pot like we were making rotel cheese for chips. When it all got melted, threw in the noodles. There you go.

Green Bean Casserole
Two cans of green beans, just sort of dumped in the dish and spooned around.
In a separate container, add a glug of soy sauce, a palm full of dried onions, and a couple of good spoon fulls of cream of onion soup from the above recipe, half a cup of milk and a can of cream of mushroom soup (which is icky thick so you need a bowl to stir it all up in and remember the cheating part? recipe calls for you to sautee a medium sized onion. I just didn't have one or time for it, so I borrowed the cream of onion idea from a recipe Noodle did earlier this week).
Pour it all over the green beans. Pour in a half a cup of French's fried onions and use spoon to just turn it over and mix them in. Bake at 350 for about 25 minutes then add some more onions on the top.

Rent yourself a good funeral movie (see above) and have fun!

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P.S. If you don't do like I did and walk in your house one hour before company comes, I strongly recommend using chicken breasts instead of canned chicken. It's do-able in a pinch. But I think better chicken would of made a good difference.
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Umbrella

How is it that Mary Poppins can float all over London with an umbrella, but I loan mine out for 10 minutes in a stiff wind & rain and it comes back bent?! Guess Mary never loaned hers out.

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A television quote, a late night thought from me

"I think I loved Talia."
HOW did I miss she was a lesbian the first go around?
Netflix creates odd addictions in television watching.

another quote from B5:

Greatness is never appreciated in youth. Called pride in midlife. Dismissed in old age, and reconsidered in death. Because we can not tolerate greatness in our midst, we do all we can to destroy it.

Lady Morella, played by Majel Barrett
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The combination of having the next-door company's garbage dump not far outside my window, and the Monday night 1a.m. trash pick-up is something I dislike a whole lot right now.

Slug Burger

There are hardly words in my vocabulary to describe this culinary deceit. It is at the same time disgusting beyond normal words, and yet completely unidentifiable and bland. MyFella loves them, and so I tried it. After a few bites, I had to turn the sandwich to him and say, "WHAT is this?" It wasn't ground beef. It wasn't good. It wasn't bad. It just was.

It was a deep fried patty of something. Something without real taste or real substance. Something that tasted only because of the condiments on it. And perhaps because of that tasteless ness, it seemed all the more an affront to nature.

A quick search on the internet turned up some chats about it that seem to define it as made up with hamburger meat and lots of filler, predominantly soy bean but in the past corn meal or potato flakes.

Double ugh!

Barnaby Jones

I really don't know why, but I awoke this morning with a fading dream that was a commercial for the television show Barnaby Jones. I could hear the announcer's voice in my head. I think a commercial for Wonder Woman was about to come on when I woke up.

Looking sexy, feeling sexy

Wearing new underwear makes me feel sexy! It may just be because of the guys on the packaging. But it works. And with two new packages of underwear, that's six days in a row I feel a little extra sexy

General this 'n that

One day this week I walked into the spare room, saw an outfit hanging in there and thought, "Guess Red's coming back." Somehow, I had missed that part of our conversation. So right as rain, she was back Friday late. We did a night out at Molly's with our girlfriend Drawbridge.

Did I tell you I hacked up and vomited something awful Monday night? You know I spent all that time last weekend with the constant nasal drip. Well, it got the best of me and I spewed in the bathroom at Molly's. It's an odd sort of vomit, when you know it's just because you have so much vile bile in your tummy. So I got a ride home and got home and did it again. Double ugh. Again, just so much snot and mucus. So gross.

So a run to the doctor's office Tuesday morning was in order. He's had me on antibiotics all week plus two shots of something or another. A little case of bronchitis and a sinus infection. It's still lingering but worlds better. And now the snot comes out the front of my nose. I really prefer it that way to dripping down my throat.

Work is going well. I have a follow up meeting in the morning with the V.P. It should go pretty well. I made headway on most every project this week, save one.

Time with Red was well spent. It was good to have her here. Even if I did have to call it an early night Monday.

My friend, the one with the slight housing problem (homeless and jobless) had a job interview Thursday. We're keeping our fingers crossed. I called a favor of a former-work friend in the employment office who helped to get him in front of the hiring manager. He spent a night here, and I think he'll probably come and hang a few nights here this week. If the job comes through, I may offer him like to come and spend the nights for his first week here, so he's clean and freshed for the orientation and stuff. (I think I may have thought 'freshed' as a shortened version of 'freshened up'.)

MyFella and I will end up with two weekends/three weeks without seeing each other by the time we see each other next. He gets a little neuoris type behavior going and it gets worse the closer he gets to the end of a semester. I'm gonna have to be patient with him.

I can't really think of much else that wouldn't be useless chatter.