Ay! Dios Mi!

Yo quiero what the fuck?! Is this summer of celebrity death ever going to end?! I can't take it -- too much loss.

The Taco Bell chihuahua is dead. Yes, you read that correctly: muerto.

Ed McMahon, Farrah, MJ, Billy Mays, Walter Cronkite -- not enough -- no, no the Grim Reaper's appetite for death was still unquenched, so he took his vengeance outside the bun.



Gidget is gone. Apparently she just stroked out on Tuesday evening and no quantity of steaming Chalupa or piping hot Churro could save her. She was 73 (about 15 in dog years).

Her trainer confirmed the sad news stating, "She made so many people happy." Amen sister, amen.

What Would You Do If I Sang Out Of Tune?

A while back a friend of mine once told me that her therapist always advised paying attention to those songs that just seem to pop into your head. The notion intrigued me so I started to consider these lyrical, potential messengers.

My brain pops up with a myriad of theories for each tune's visit.

Last week I was sitting on the toilet, (honoring a number onesy call) with a thousand yard stare loosely focused on the Man Wall, when a song popped in. To be more accurate, just the first line of a song.

What would you do if I sang out of tune?

Where in the hell did that come from? I don't care for the Beatles -- or that song -- nor do I even recall hearing it any time in the recent past.

But see, that's the thing. Your brain just bubbles this stuff up to the surface, and then you kick it around like a beach ball until you like where it settles - or just get tired.

I had to sit and think for a second what the next line of that song even is, then it came to me.

Would you stand up and walk out on me?

Ahh -- now we are getting somewhere. I don't know why both lines didn't show up in my gray matter at the same time, but I do know that considering both lines made more sense and ended up resonating with me.

I always grapple with loyalty and acceptance. Not so much as to whether or not I can offer those in my relationships, as I think I am pretty damn good at it actually. I struggle more with being secure in knowing that I have those elements in my relationships, and therefore can relax and just be. More simply put: I [still] need to learn I don't have to take care of everybody to be accepted.

In trying to remember more of the song, [that again, I don't even like] I got a whole lot of nothing, until part of the chorus came to me.

I get by with a little help from my friends

Alright party people, this is where the shit gets heavy. Deep.

As I ponder, I'm redefining friend in my head. It becomes more of a representative term for everyone who loves me, a broader category than their title of Friend, Family, Chicken Fucker, if you will.

And that brought me to the final piece of the Name That Tune Introspection puzzle.

I absolutely get by with a little help from my friends. Actually, I thrive with a little help from my friends. If you do stand up and walk out, I will get by. Your retreat may come as a blindsiding gut punch, but someone who loves me will have their arms out as I fall backward like a drunken sailor.

A day may come where I am just too "out of tune" for you. You may be living and loving blissfully tone deaf for 20 years and then one day, off you go. Who knows. The future can't be told.

For now, I guess I have to live by the words of the stinkin Beatles anyway, cause the shit just makes sense to me.

Live without regret and the rest will all come out in the wash. **

I take it all back. I think it was just a reminder that I am a craptacular singer, so mark that off of the Ways I Might Be Able To Make A Fortune list. Oh well. On to the next item: Stunt double for Liza Minnelli.


**I just typed that, impressed myself with the poignancy, then googled it to see if anyone else has posted it before. Holy crap - I think I might have just come up with a quotable quote!

Hey Peter, I Can Smell Your Ass From Here

I am dedicating today's post to my cousin Ruth. She was on a flight yesterday that included the distinct nasal experience of having a seat at the back of the plane.

This same letter was sent to me by a friend after I had my own experience of this special kind a few years ago.

Seat 29e -- Airline Bathroom Row

Grande Pessismisto?

I have to work really hard at being optimistic. I just don't have light roots. My tethers are darker and heavier than many. This is not to say that I am always in Half Empty mode. I meant it when I wrote I work hard to spend most of my time at Half Full. I think I have made some pretty good strides over the years, but I suspect if I didn't work at it, I could be a Grande Pessismisto - no foam, extra whip of course.

So this morning I am sitting at my desk thinking that this all is just fucking great. By "all" I mean my life. I got into this head space where I am wondering where the hell I am going and what am I doing anyway? I even made a list for god knows what reason.

I will spare my vast readership the oodles of optimism embedded in the list. Highlights include being a lard ass, one of my neighbors wanting to sue me (and not for having said lard ass), and a couple of fall-on-my-face failures.

So where am I going with this? We all have problems. It always occurs to me how inherently lazy and spoiled it is of me to sit and complain -- even to myself .

I need to turn this around.

Stoopid, (I like to spell it that way) self-congratulating Oprah always talks about her stoopid gratitude journal....."Write five things everyday for which you have gratitude". Whatever Oprah.

But still, it is a good idea.

Let's see if I can turn my mental frown into at least a straight face...

1. I live in Santa Cruz. I may have crappy neighbors, and a little isolation going on, but it could get a hell of a lot worse than owning a home in a coastal Northern California town.

2. I have choices and resources. e.g., I can choose to learn from my failures and take that into my future. I can afford to bolster my job training with some online courses (even if it is boring-ass, tedious bookkeeping).

3. My brother showed up in the middle of my Monday Mental Meltdown and offered to run an errand for me, make a repair to my vehicle, and replace my broken smoke alarm. Thanks bro!

4. I am a fortunate person -- I have food in my fridge, I'm not schizophrenic, I won a free rent lottery once, etc.

5. There's a donut in my kitchen right now....and some hot coffee.

Bonus two things because I like the number seven as much as I like the number five.

6. There are some awesome people out there who care about me. -- Not much more to say than that -- it's a huge gift.

7. I have Now. The potential is limitless.

Now you do it. What fills you with gratitude?

And let's be original people -- no, "Well I don't have Schizophrenia either - done."

The Menu

I am trying to be a big girl (in the preparation and maturity department, not the ass width department) so I have been planning out meal ideas before going to the grocery store. My next five dinners are slated as follows:

Rosemary Chicken Burger with *fries and sauteed Zucchini.
(I saw Giada make this forever ago, but couldn't seem to get anyone too excited about a non-beef burger. Well I'm excited about it!)

Stuffed Eggplant with Romano topped Angel Hair
(My stepmom donated the fixins for the eggplant (thank you, thank you) so now I just have to pull the pasta together - love it!)

Salami and Munster Panini with fries and steamed Broccoli
(I saw Emeril make this yesterday. Looked so easy, and mmm-mmm good!)

Honey Lime Pork with Jasmine rice and sauteed Green Beans
(The sauce is so easy and so delish that I am remaking it again from it's maiden voyage on my palette just last week.)

Campanelli in Red Sauce with mini Chicken Meatballs and sauteed Zucchini
(I'm going to have chicken left over from those Rosemary Burgers, so......)



*Don't know what it is about fries lately. Usually I can take em or leave em, but they have just hit the spot lately on a few different occasions.......there goes the ass width department...

Edit: The Rosemary Garlic Chicken Burger recipe can be found here. -- By the way, this recipe is the perfect opportunity to try out that new mayo made with olive oil for an even healthier, but juicy burger!

The Honey Lime Pork recipe is here. Technically a chicken recipe, it was (I think) equally delicious made with pork loin fillets I sliced into thin strips and dusted in flour. I then wok fried them in some olive oil, poured the sauce over the top, tossed, and sprinkled with sesame seeds. I did take her advice and double the sauce. This ensures you have plenty should you decide to share it with your rice.

Enjoy!

The View

My yard needs some serious weeding and trimming. I feel a little guilty that I haven't gotten out there and done it yet, so I tend to turn away with a little bit of a wince when I let the dog out. Well that resistance to taking a real look, caused me to almost miss this little beauty.



I am a craptacular photographer, but trust me -- it's a pretty little trumpet vine flower smiling at me from the fence.

So I would like to take the moral of today's post from the cranky bitches on that morning show that I love to hate to watch their douchebaggery: Take a little time to enjoy the view. *gag*