White Trash Cooking

I found this humdinger of cookbook in the bargain bin at Barnes and Nobles a few years back, but never got around to trying any of the recipes. I'd even forgotten that I owned it until I was unpacking my new apartment.

After reviewing it with my roommates and ruling out some of the recipes which involved some unorthodox techniques,

"When the cooter (turtle) sticks his head out, cut it off with a hatchet."

I selected Peanut Butter Bacon Bread:

Although the recipe seemed revolting, the resulting food product could be plausibly edible, so I tried it.

The loaves looked magnificent and absolutely nummy. However, when it comes to food, presentation can only get you so far. Those who were willing to venture a taste of my little experiment tried to be polite, but not a single person could claim that the bacon-flecked bread appealed to their taste buds.

But I wasn't ready to give up on the recipe quite yet. One of my co-workers has a theory that anything can be made better by adding bacon or chocolate. Since bacon obviously failed in this recipe I thought perhaps chocolate might be a better choice so I made a few modifications.

As it turns out I have a winner. The resulting loaves were gobbled up with hardly a complaint. Now all I have to do is decide which recipe to try next. Christmas Opossum anyone?

The Hydrant

Someone once said, "Some days your the dog and some days your the hydrant." This would be a hydrant day.

To quote an email that I wrote today:

"Guilt I'm afraid is one of my the 4 basic food groups today, along with crow, humble pie, and my words. I'm afraid this diet might be a little high in fiber so I could be feeling the effects for awhile.

So If Not a Dog, How About a Skunk?

I'm afraid I will have to put to rest my desire to adopt a pooch, at least for the time being. I'm moving into my new apartment tonight, and a canine pal wasn't included in the lease.

But there is another option. When I went walking past my soon-to-be new apartment, I saw what appeared to be a cat rolling around on the sidewalk. Noting that something didn't seem quite right, I stopped for a moment until I realized that what I was actually watching was a skunk waddling away.

Upon recognizing it for what it was, my immediate thought was "Cool a skunk! Let's chase it." Fortunately that impulse was immediately squashed by the logic portion of my brain that quickly ran through the following fallacies with my plan:

1. If you chase a skunk, you will get sprayed.
2. You cannot remove the smell of skunk from your clothes, and I liked my current outfit.
3. Having never being sprayed before, I wasn't sure if and for how long the smell sticks to your skin.
   
4. Consider the embarrassment of having to call in "smelly" to work? "I can't come in to work today.......Oh no, I'm feeling fine. It's just that I was sprayed by a skunk last night.... Yeah right in front of my house.........It jumped out of nowhere......tomato juice? I'll have to give that a try........could you do me a favor and not mention this to my coworker?........Oh, I'm on speaker phone.......

All the way around, it was a good thing that I didn't chase the critter.

As I waited for it to meander its way under the shrubbery by the front stoop of my soon-to-be apartment, an idea crossed my mind. It may not be a dog, but if this stinker lives in or under my house, I could call it my pet. I sure ain't going to play fetch with it, but if I see it again, I'm going to start calling it my guard dog and name him "Socks." ;o)

I want a dog

I think that all my problems in life would be solved if I had a dog--not a really big one, not a mean one, and most definitely not a fluffy, white, yappy one. Just a nice medium sized dog like this one.


Some of you may be thinking, "Why in heaven's name do you want a dog? You live in an apartment without a yard. You work all day. A dog is so much work. Why a dog?" If you are asking that question then you probably aren't a dog person.

All those things are true. It would make it more difficult to find housing and having a pet would most definitely change my routine, but I'm okay with that. Until I moved to Boston I ALWAYS had a dog. I walked it, I fed it, I took it to the vet, and I housebroke it. That's not to say that life was perfect. There were plenty of times that I had to clean up some really nasty messes, but it came with the territory.

There's just something comforting about having a dog around, not for safety sake (most of my pet dogs would have cuddled up to a robber), but just because.

I'm not dead yet......I think I'll go for a walk

There are simply some days for which you feel fortunate to be able to utter the words in the title. Today would be one of those days.

A friend recently asked me quite casually, "How's life?"

This ought to be a rather simple question to answer, yet I struggled and ended up simply answering 42. For those who have not read nor seen "Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy," 42 is the answer to life, the universe, and everything. Don't worry if you don't get it--it's a geek thing.

Anyway the point is that I could not really give him an answer to "how is life?" because I quite honestly don't know. My life is in complete flux, and you really can't declare a winner or loser until the votes are counted (and recounted if Florida is involved). I could venture a guess that in the end I'll still be reasonably alive and healthy, so I suppose I could have answered, "It'll be good." But he probably would have questioned my ability to use proper English grammar, and I wouldn't want nobody think I wasn't learned good.

So rather than sitting down and specifically recounting what is and is not happening in the major areas of my life, I think I'll stick with my first answer which is 42, and go for a walk.

And then she said...........

A sampling of some of the hilarious, if not absolutely ridiculous, things people have said to me recently:

While checking out at the grocery store.......

The cashier scanned a box of Gas Ex and loudly asks, "Gas Ex? Does this stuff really work?"

I went to the doctor for a check up, and she started going through the pre-visit check list......

"Sexually active?"
"No."
With real concern, almost shock,"What's wrong?"
"I haven't for religious reasons."
"Good for you. Good for.... Wait so you've never?"
"No, I'm one of the few 29 year old virgins out there."
"Good for you. Good for..... So is there anyone?"
"I date."
"But is there a special guy?"
"There are several guys I'm interested in."

And just think that was only the beginning of the exam. I still had a good 20 minutes left.

When I was wearing a shirt with an empire waistline.........

a pseudo coworker who hadn't seen me in a while came running up to me, "Are you pregnant?" and then proceeded to put her hand on my stomach.

I burst out laughing. Now the joke amongst my friends is to ask, "Does this shirt make me look pregnant?"

When I approached a coworker who appeared to be having a bad day.........

"Are you okay?" I asked

"Obviously not, and neither are you," she responded