Saturday, May 30, 2009

Cheap Thrills: 60's Union Made Car Coat

I found this SPECTACULAR vintage 60's car coat at an antique shop today! I must share it with the world, but since I live in Arizona and will only be able to wear a coat of this caliber about one month out of the year "the world" is now limited to "the internet." It almost makes me wish I lived somewhere that temperatures never grazed the 110 degree mark. Gotta love a winter in the 50's though.
I got this little number at one of my favorite antique shops, Cheap Thrills @ Cave Creek Rd just south of Cactus. An uncomfortable $50.00, but if I didn't get it I know I'd be thinking about it for weeks, go back and discover someone else had bought it, never to be seen again. Very heavy and well maintained. Fits like a charm too.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Slim Fast is My Kryptonite

So I innocently purchased some Slim Fast thinking it might keep me filled up between my breakfast snack and lunch while at work; it promised to keep me full for up to four hours. As you may know, I am a big fan of eating; I eat often and heartily. Little did I know this silent demon would weasel its way into my guts and kick and scream until it poked holes on my insides. I am just now recovering from my mistake. It had milk in it. I love milk, but milk doesn't love me. It treats me mean. [Insert a fist shaking toward Ulcerative Colitis]
This lead me to a rather unconventional thought that might raise a few eyebrows, but I have to present the question: Why do we drink the milk of cows? We aren't designed to drink cow milk. We are designed to drink human milk.
I work with someone who had a premature baby. In the preemie ward of the hospital, they typically feed to newborns non-human milk (powdered or cows? I don't know). But this guy's wife is a bit of a hippie and she discovered a place where new mothers send in their frozen milk to help out those mothers that can't breastfeed. The baby made a miraculous recovery. After seeing how amazing the results were, the hospital opted to pay several $100,000.00 of their medical bills and is now doing research into this new method of feeding premature babies.
Considering this anomaly, I am presenting what I think would give a boost to the self esteem and self worth of new mothers as well as the porn industry. I think you might know where I'm going with this, and if you're frightened, feel free to take your leave. I won't judge you.
Could you picture new mothers on milking machines you see in a common dairy? I totally see some crazy fetish porn coming out of this, but I also envision a dairy product that is designed with the human stomach in mind. Everyone wins.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Retro Goodwill

This is the final proof needed that Richard and I were born in the wrong era. We went to Goodwill and found these lovely items. A great night for Goodwill, I must say.
On the back of the clown images is a name; one is named Helter, the other is Skelter ($1.50 each). Creepy. The little pot with mushrooms I can just picture someone from the 70's making their own candles in and then brewing up some mac 'n cheese ($2.50). The Chip Dip set still has the original packaging and I don't think it's ever been used ($3.00).
I love half off Saturdays at Goodwill. We found these on 32nd Street & Greenway.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Green Giants

I feel the need to denote that my relationship with any given camera wasn't so frivolous in the past. Then I started taking photography classes at Glendale Community College and I found it quite irritating when people were all camera shy. Shake what your mama gave ya is what I say about it! I can be quite the little camera ham these days.
Speaking of things I like eating, we're growing a garden, which ties in because I'm giving you a snapshot of the monster! It's only eight weeks old and it's our first garden (and by "our garden" I really mean I go and look at it every few days and Richard does anything and everything involving maintenance). We are growing sunflowers, giant pumpkin, tomato and corn. I love knowing that I'll be able to go into the backyard and pick my dinner from a vine or stalk! I'm toying with the idea of biting at least one tomato right off the vine with my teeth. We'll see how big they get. And how much mud has collected in the clay soil on my desired day of plucking.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

The Mini Chopper

My dad owns a ridiculously small chopper and while I was at his house in Colorado over the weekend, I got to take the little cutie for a spin around the block a few times. Much joy ensued. Miniature joy.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Monsoon Waltz

I don't think it's the right season quite yet for monsoons to hit, but we had a lovely sprinkling of rain last night accompanied by an orchestra of thunder and lightening. Richard and I went out and sat on the front lawn and enjoyed the scenery for awhile. I don't think enough people sit on their front lawns. Or their back lawns for that matter.
In all my front lawn sitting last night, I was hit by a song, a great lawn sitting song. It's called Waltz by Fiona Apple. My ears find it pleasurable; I suspect yours might as well.

Monday, May 18, 2009

Empty Nest

Sup, dudes? What? Where have I been? Oh yea, I guess I forgot to tell you I was going to some crazy tailspin week!
Things are finally simmering down this evening, but I have a wigged out red burning eye from lack of sleep and maybe from being in a higher altitude over the weekend. I went to the Mile High City, Denver, CO, and from there hitched a ride with my cousin to Windsor, the quiet town in which half of my family resides.
First, my brother's wife graduated from Arizona State University with her Bachelors in Global Business. We celebrated with sushi. Delicious.
The following evening I flew to Colorado to spend the weekend at my dad's house, celebrating my little brothers' graduation. The last two of us five kids have finally left the nest (twins!). It was quite the fun weekend. I got to see my sister who I haven't seen in a long time time due to her Air Force gig and lack of money to visit. My cousin and her brilliant four year old were there. And of course the regular Colorado crew; pops, little bros and gram. It was a weekend of catching up, bickering and lots of family. I am now ready to take a vacation from my brief vacation.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Shitty: The Quick Version of My Battle With Ulcerative Colitis

Had a crazy week, two different cousins from two different sides of the family were in town; one on military leave from the Army and one on vacation who got here just in time to spend a whole week with her dad in the hospital. Lots of fun and lots of turmoil.
I'm not here to talk about that though; I'm here to talk about shittyness. My Ulcerative Colitis has been acting up the last few days and I don't know if it's because of the stress of the week long balancing act and not getting any exercise all week or just due to nature being a bitch. I think it's more just nature. And maybe that plate of Mexican food I took down at Garcias II (35th Ave & Thomas) that was absolutely smothered in cheese cheese cheese. Cheese is sometimes my enemy. Lots of dairy products. I can get away with cheese in moderation, but not a whole plate full of cheese. I love the stuff though. And speaking of dairy products, I still have an entire half gallon of Gold Medal Ribbon ice cream from Baskin Robbins in my freezer that I haven't been able to touch because I don't want to make the situation worse.
I have to be on high alert when I start having symptoms. I never ever want to feel the way I did about two years ago when the UC was at its worst. I tried every thing and since this is MY place to share MY life, I will tell all about it, even the embarrassing stuff.
I went to a GI doctor because I was having major issues; after explaining my problems, I had to get a colonoscopy. The day prior to the "surgery" I wasn't allowed to eat anything. I was given a gallon jug that had a little powder in the bottom I added water to, then I drank the whole disgusting gallon and got rid of everything in my intestines. I was on the verge of puking the stuff up every swallow.
The following day, I had a family member drive me to the surgery center where I went under anesthesia and had a camera go through my whole lower intestinal region and take photos. After coming out of it, in my groggy waking-from-anesthesia state he told me I had Ulcerative Colitis. I couldn't even remember what he said I had as I was leaving and it wasn't until our next visit that I etched it in my mind. Two words that would haunt me through the worst of it.
The doctor then started me on Meslamine rectal enemas and I had to take one every fucking night. They worked for a long while, but I hated having to do that every single night and near the end of my taking them, they weren't as effective. I was switched to a rectal suppository, which was easier and, turns out, even less effective. I started flaring up again. Then I was switched to Colozal, an oral pill and was taking up to nine pills a day at one point, three with every meal; nothing was working. I quit going to the Gastrointestinal doctor.
I then went holistic and was drinking an awful shake as a meal supplement and it didn't do a WHOLE lot, but I think it was the catalyst to my getting as well as I am today. At that time, I was ready to remove my colon and live with a colostomy bag for the rest of my life. It was either that or I wanted to just die and get it over with. I'm not the suicidal type, but I truly wouldn't have objected if I knew I'd walk out of the house that day and get into a car accident or something quick. It drained me. Made me depressed. I wasn't myself. I was just this thing that walked around in extreme pain all day and, if I wasn't at home, extreme embarrassment and fear. Every day it seems like the only words in my mind flashing in this huge red marquee scroll were ULCERATIVE COLITIS. ULCERATIVE COLITIS. ULCERATIVE COLITIS. I lived and breathed those words with every thought, in every action.
The remission was gradual and slowly I started introducing myself to social situations and trips and LIFE again. Life is sort of off limits when you're not in remission. I will have this forever, but I can still do what I can to keep things in check if I see some signs. Right now all I take is a couple supplements, fish oil and calcium, and an over the counter pill once a day called Digestive Advantage for Crohns and Colitis, which is really just probiotics (good bacteria).
Sometimes I wish girls were more like guys with the whole talking about poop thing. It would make my life so much easier. I want to be able to walk into a circle of friends and be like "man, I gotta take a major dump" and them being alright with it. I want to go into a public rest room and drop a deuce without having the fear of people giving me the crazy eye when I walk out of the stall. Having Ulcerative Colitis has really dulled down my awkwardness about the nature of my southern hemisphere, but the society stigma still remains, and still sucks. Why can't girls be just as gross as boys? I need that little break.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Salsa Sinaloa

Success! The salsa was a hit! I've decided to post this delicious recipe for the world. Why? Because you're cool, world, and I think you deserve it!

6 roma tomatoes
6 tomatillos
3 cloves crushed garlic
7 chilis arbol
1/2 bundle cilantro
1/2 red onion
1/2 lemon (juice)
2 Tbsp salt

Chop all the big stuff into little tiny pieces. Put tomatoes, tomatillos & crushed chilis arbol on to boil. Add a few cups of water; not quite enough to cover the other stuff. Boil on medium for about 10-15 minutes. Add garlic to water while boiling if you don't like it as strong. Once off the heat, add the other goodies. Cool. Eat with very scoopable chips. :D

I had to ask two Mexican ladies at Fry's in order to find the weird sounding stuff. The "tomatillos" are little green tomato looking things, but they're in this green onion looking husk. You'll probably find these near the habinero pepper and jalapeno area.
The "chilis arbol" is a little dry red pepper, skinny and about the length of half a pinky finger. I found them in the ethnic food isle where they have all the bags of "Tampico" spices.

I don't think I need to say this after my previous post, but don't crush up the chilis arbol with your damned fingers or it will feel like you're giving Satan a hand job. I guess they sell gloves you could use or just crush 'em up with other utensils. If you get them on your fingers, wash those puppies as soon as you get a chance. Don't touch your face or more...sensitive regions. Heh heh.

Arriba! Caliente!

I made homemade salsa last night. Since I'm white and an idiot, I crushed the "Chiles Arbol" with my fingers. Then I clutched an ice pack and a bowl full of water all night long. Those Mexicans must have some secrets they're not sharing. Forget nuclear war, throw some chiles in peoples eyes, rub 'em on their bodies and they're done for. It felt as though my hand was absolutely ON FIRE. Between the pain, I wondered if that was what it felt like to turn into a vampire (Twilight!). Before bed, I took 3 Asprin, then, when I woke up from the pain again, I took 3 Ibuprofren . One of my hands still burns. This is a lesson I won't soon forget. That shit better taste good.

It could also potentially be a steam burn. I don't think I like how much my clumsy idiocy is being put on display here...

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Kittens, Burning Trailers & Our Damned Tater Twister

I am nine. It's 6:30AM and the school bus is honking from across the street, waiting for the usual hoard of kids to come running. We are always ALWAYS late for the school bus. Partly because we hate going to school, partly because we can never find our shoes, and also in part because we stayed up way past our bed time to watch The Simpsons. When we were finally ready to go to sleep, we were forced to listen to my mom and her friends party into the wee hours of the morning. We are dead to the world most mornings. Today, however, I am wide awake and I feel a thrill of excitement that the school bus is honking because I know something he doesn't know. I'm not going to school today!
My aunt Margie's trailer (which is right across our wide gravel driveway) caught on fire early this morning. And my cat, Milo, is having a litter of kittens in the hall linen closet. We probably wouldn't have gotten away with staying home if it was just one or the other, but both!? At least 11 kids were absent that day from Palo Verde Elementary. I know that because all of these kids either live with us, live near us, or they're my cousins that live in the trailer that's burning down. I am thrilled. This is an excellent excuse to get out of school.
As I'm nursing my cat into her millionth litter of kittens in the hall linen closet, a fire truck crunching into our shared drive way, I'm distracted by a horrible thought. My damned aunt had borrowed our Tater Twister! The Tater Twister is by far my favorite kitchen appliance. You'd get a potato and put it on this thing, then some blades spin around and make the most excellent, super springy curly fries! I was pissed about this. My annoyance is cut short as a kitten grunts into life. I would never see the Tater Twister again.