What's Your Choice?

Anyone that knows me, knows that I have very strong feelings about the way people, Americans specifically, have become mindless cattle.  When it comes to food, eating healthy, buying sustainable products, living "green", and making the world a better place in general, I will yell at the top of my voice until everyone around me starts thinking for themselves.  Stop letting the government, big pharma, and lobbyists decide your options, forcing shit down your throat you don't need.  I'm not Polyanna.  I know how the world operates.  And I know we all have choices.

I choose the good stuff.

I am very passionate about food.  Healthy, fresh food that is not processed, or with as minimal processing as possible.  I am an advocate for cooking with and for your family, sitting down at the table, and sharing a meal.  Shut off the TV, the XBOX, the computer.  Turn on some nice music, sit at the table and have a conversation with your loved one or family.  Ask them how their day was.  What did you learn at school today?  How was work?  I thought we'd go see so and so this weekend.  See where I'm going with this?

I know there are people out there that work very hard.  Three jobs, crazy hours.  Truck drivers, airline pilots, businessmen that travel for work that can't get home every night to see their family.  But when they do get home, sitting down at the table with their family should be a priority.  That's just me.  Maybe I'm the abnormal one.

This is what greeted me when I entered the market this morning:

Now, I'm all for being frugal and saving money in this very bad economy.  As a private chef, I am well aware that luxury items are the first to go in tough times.  People can barely afford to feed themselves, let alone hire someone like me to do it for them.  But this just makes my blood boil.

People have busy schedules, kids, errands, etc.  They believe they have no time to put a decent, nutritious meal in the lunchbox or on the dinner table.  They are told they have no time because of the way marketing is skewed toward making them believe it.  The "convenience" of the options pictured above are very appealing to a haggard young mom with 2 kids pulling on her leg, and wanting a lollipop.  I understand there is a market for these items.  What I can't wrap my head around is the fact that you can buy this shit for a $1 each.  Or better still, go to any grease factory, heart-attack-waiting-to-happen, fast food place and feed your family off the $1 menu.  I know those places now offer healthier options as well.  IT'S A CHOICE.  I get it.

I don't get that you can't buy organic produce and sustainable meat at reasonable prices because the government and food/drug lobbyists want it that way.  So much at stake.  So much money to make.  So many prescription drugs to sell.  That "healthy" (pun intended) bottom line for the quarterly report to the share holders.  Let's keep the cycle going.  No one is paying attention.  It's quick and easy.  And so is that pill that will fix your bad cholesterol, high blood pressure, diabetes, and liver.  Oh, and let's not forget about the penis pills.  Does your cock need a shock?

I regulate my liver functions, cholesterol, heart, and bones through nature.  Vitamins that are all natural.  Granted, all the pharmaceuticals are coming from plants as well, but they are being chemically manipulated.  Have you actually listened to the side effects to some of these drugs?

I'll use Lipitor as example #1:

"Blinding headaches, nausea, vertigo, disorientation, memory loss, extremely dry eyes, pain and stiffness, abdominal pain, muscle pain, weakness, spasms".


I'll use Chantix, a drug to help you quit smoking as example #2:

"Some people have had changes in behavior, hostility, agitation, depressed mood, suicidal thoughts or actions while using CHANTIX to help them quit smoking. Some people had these symptoms when they began taking CHANTIX, and others developed them after several weeks of treatment or after stopping CHANTIX. If you, your family, or caregiver notice agitation, hostility, depression, or changes in behavior, thinking, or mood that are not typical for you, or you develop suicidal thoughts or actions, anxiety, panic, aggression, anger, mania, abnormal sensations, hallucinations, paranoia, or confusion, stop taking CHANTIX and call your doctor right away. Also tell your doctor about any history of depression or other mental health problems before taking CHANTIX, as these symptoms may worsen while taking CHANTIX."

SIGN ME UP FOR 5 PRESCRIPTIONS!!  Can't wait for that mind bending trip.  Like a roller coaster, only you didn't get to ride.  What the fuck is wrong with these pharmaceutical companies?  And any person that would actually want to take these drugs?  I get it.  It's a CHOICE.

I honestly believe it should be called "Sick Care', not health care.  The healthy people that CHOSE to eat right and stay out of the doctor's office and off the easy medication should be rewarded and have lower premiums.  The people that CHOSE to eat poorly, are obese, just don't care, won't lose weight or change their habits, and take the pills for an easy fix, should have to pay more.  Now, I understand a lot of people have congenital issues with their health and NEED to take medication to regulate those issues, even though they live a healthy life and eat well.

I just want people to read the labels on these "easy fix meals" and decide for themselves.  There aren't labels in the produce or meat aisle.  Now why is that?  Oh yeah!  IT'S FRESH!  And if there are labels on any of the processed, seasoned, mystery meat in bag, read it and know that your're being tricked.  If your 7 year old can't pronounce an ingredient on the nutrition information label on those frozen dinners you love so much, you shouldn't be ingesting it.  PERIOD.

A good rule to live by:  Only eat what will eventually ROT.  If it could survive a nuclear holocaust, three ice ages, and a meteor hitting the Earth, I'd just say NO.

But that's my choice.

What's your choice?

Cheers,

LMS

Who's Excited? I AM!

Hello kids.  It's been awhile, but I've been in kind of a "if-it's-not-good-enough-to-come-out-of-my-own-mouth-it's-not-good-enough-for-cyber-space" kind of mood of late.

But something changed all that today.

My "cousin" Carolyn, (long story long) is in advertising, marketing, web design, project managing etc., who works from home, has a client that is working on a website to rival those of recipes.com, foodtv.com, and cookingchannel.com.  He is looking for a chef/demonstrator to do videos for his website. He asked her if she knew anyone, but she had no idea. he called her back and she thought of me.

And "cousin" is a loving term.  Her parents were my God-Parents, and my parents' best friends, so respectfully, I grew up calling her parents Aunt and Uncle and her and her 3 siblings cousin. She was even named after my mom, who is her God-Mother.  There you have it.

Back to why I'm blogging again.

I will be doing the video demonstrations for the website and YouTube channel right from my own kitchen.

This is my dream job. PERIOD.

This is the exposure/platform I have been hoping for ever since I submitted an audition video for The Next Food Network Star, August 2009.

I have no expectations, other than to do the very best I can, be myself on camera, and teach people about my passion for food. Hoping to make others passionate about food in the process.

This could not have come at a better time as The Moonlight Chef is not doing very well at all right now as far as bringing in business.

The wind from one door closing opens the door in another room. Or so the proverb goes.

Who's excited? I AM!!!

Cheers,

LMS

Case in point

I have not posted in a long while.  When I created this "blog", I decided immediately that I would not write anything unless I felt compelled to write.  In a free thinking, cathartic, stream of conscious thought, idea.

Something happened today that prompted me to put my thoughts out into cyber space.

Casey Anthony. Not Guilty. As judged in court. By that of her peers. PERIOD.

While I do not know the ins and outs of the case, and honestly do not care, I do care that the public wants to bash and criticize the American Justice system.

What I believe personally will have no impact on the outcome of this trial, nor will it bring back that pretty little baby.

Is Casey Anthony guilty?  Was OJ Simpson?  That's not for me to decide.  The court of public opinion and the 3-ring circus that is the Media seems to rule these days.  Reporters should report the news.  Not create more melodrama.  I can't watch news programs for that reason.

I believe in the United States Justice System, and I do believe in honest lawyers that are hard working. HONEST.

In retrospect, Back to the Future II had some sense to it: "The justice system works swiftly, now that they've abolished all Lawyers."

Case in point.

Cheers,

LMS

Birthdays and Centerfolds

My husband's birthday is tomorrow.  He'll be 37.  For his 40th birthday I have Fantasy Baseball Camp with the Boston Red Sox planned for him and his twin brother.  Or a week at Spring Training.  So excited!  I want to go, too.

But back to the present.  I haven't purchased a gift as of yet.  He didn't ask for anything, nor does he really need anything right now.  I was going to get him a Wii, an iPad, or triplets on a trapeze.  All seemed superfulous at this point.  We hardly use the Original Nintendo/Super Nintendo, we both have fully functional computers, and he never has time to fuck me stupid, let alone the triplets I might supply.

I had the greatest idea to be a Playboy Centerfold.  Now I've come up with the most scathingly brilliant idea of making a faux volume!  Dated on his birthday, with articles and jokes written by friends, advertisments that are all inside jokes  And even those annoying little postcard "subscription" papers that fall out of a magazine.

Not sure where this is all leading, but now I have to figure out a new plan.  I have to come up with something fantastic, for my equally fantastic soulmate.  He deserves the Moon.  I'm always more prepared than this.  It's not fair to him.  I'll sleep on it.  I have all day tomorrow to come up with something.

Until then, I have birthday candles and Playboy Centerfolds to dream about.

Cheers.

LMS

Wine, weed, and whining.

I have been flying on civilian airplanes since I was 18 months old.  All shapes, sizes, models.  Fixed wing, prop. You name it.  When I was around 8 years old, Mumah and I went to visit my Grandparents in Florida.  On the way home, there was a terrible storm that the pilot tried to avoid, but did not succeed.  It was an awful flight, and I never forgot it.
I absolutely LOVE to travel.  I love driving anywhere and everywhere.  "Push the pedal down, watch the world around fly by us".  I've been to California, Canada, the Bahamas, and everywhere in between.  I'm the dog with it's head out the window wanting to see and experience everything the world has to offer.  I adore the Travel Channel and want to be the female version of Anthony Bourdain.  He's my hero, and in my honest opinion, the second coming of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson himself.

After that particular flight, I've always had trepidation about flying.  But I always enjoy the excitment of getting on an airplane.  I actually love to fly, but the whole fear of not being in control rattles my brain.

This brings me to the topic at hand:  An impromptu trip to Amsterdam.

I'm excited, in a holy-crap-I'm-going-abroad-for-the-first-time-in-my-life kind of way.  Amsterdam would not have been my first choice of European cities to visit.  France, London, Rome.  YES.  Amsterdam has this haze (yes, puns a go-go) of strange press for it's tolerance of marajuana use.  I'm not even interested in the weed, space cakes, mushrooms, or any other drug laden edible that can be thrown at me.  I am interested in the food, the canals, the beautiful architecture, and the culture.  Mostly, how Europeans exist and live.

I'm terrified to get on an airplane for that long, over the "Pond", and to another Continent.  This should be a time of great excitment.  But my brain cannot shut off about the "what ifs".  I know, very deep down in my soul, that it is not my destiny to be ended in an airplane crash.  But I will always worry, as a dog worries a bone.

In order to be forward thinking, embrace the chance of a lifetime, and just stop worrying about what is out of my control, I should drink some wine, smoke some weed, and quit whining about the "what ifs", and be grateful for a once in a lifetime experience.

Cheers.

LMS

Fading away.

This is where it all begins to fade. No one knows exactly where or when it all began to fall apart. But this is the moment. Right now. Right here. I snap my fingers and it's begun.

Cheers.

LMS

Pavlova and Turtles.

I keep thinking about it.  Keep wondering and making myself a maniac about it.  Why do we have to get old?  There are breeds of turtles that can live over 300 years.  But humans, if we're lucky, crank out 60 really good years.  Because honestly when you think about it, we don't start "living" and appreciating life until MAYBE high school/college.  Then the years at the end of our lives are not so great, depending upon the genes you get dealt.  Shitting your pants, memory loss, broken bones, etc.

So, starting at age (insert your "start age" here) what kind of life have you had?  Will you have?  Now this does not apply to everyone, OBVIOUSLY.  I have a Great Aunt at age 98.  My Father is going to be 75 this year and is in great shape.  Save the cancer.  Twice.  Broken hip, dislocated shoulder, screw driver up the nose, catching his nuts on a flagpole cleat while trying to catch the flag before it hit the ground, both knees replaced, and light one kidney.  And now potentially an issue with his bladder.  Other than that, he is on point!  Sharp.  Funny.  Quick.  And one of the most brilliant you will ever encounter.  Not only by his intelligence, but a human soul.  An artist.  A great beacon if you will.

Whilst on Staten Island today, driving along Richmond Avenue, my mom pointed out that the snow had this sheen to it.  That nothing could get through it but a jack hammer from all the snow/ice/melt/refreeze.  I told her it reminded me of meringue.  A Pavlova dessert, all glossy and pretty with fruit.  The snow did have the perfect sheen to it though.  Maybe humans could be preserved, or at least live a little longer, and make like a turtle.

Cheers.

LMS

Liquid Draino.

How ironic that sleep is an illusive thought lately.  Like a thread that will not mate with the needle.  I really don't know what is going on.  Usually I sleep too much.  But it was pointed it out to me today, that I may be experiencing a "mid-life crisis".  At age 35, I sincerely hope 70 is not my end.

I openly cried at a painting I keep over the sofa in the living room.  Stared at it.  Stared at it until I thought it might become a chalk drawing from Mary Poppins, and I could jump in and be part of it.  Live it.  Smell it.  Taste it.  Breathe it in and never exhale.  Forever have it be part of me.  For I know this painting well.  To the point of visualizing every detail about the inside of the house, from squeaking floor boards to how the morning sun peaks through the windows, to a vineyard that has yet to be harvested, and hot air balloons that are so fresh on their morning journey, they've yet to crest the mountains they seek to rise above.  My heart aches for that one moment visualized.  I wait.  But my patience is thin.

Orphanage and schooling.

I want to finish school.  I want a culinary degree, but do not want to take courses that have no use in my discipline.  I do not require Biology, Algerbra, or the Mating Habits of Dung Beetles in Africa.  I need Culinary Mathematics, Business Management, and how to properly make the "Mother Sauces".  Tools for a great Chef.  Oh, and a proper omellette.  I seriously SUCK a fat one when it comes to omellettes.  Sometimes I'm genius.  Most times, not so much.  Room temperature butter and eggs. OBVIOUSLY.  The wrist and flipping that fucking pan so the mess ends up IN the pan and not on my stove top?  FAIL.  EPIC FAIL.  A work in perpetual progress.

I seem to have a deep belief that I need to be an orphan before I can truly visualize my dreams.  Not Daddy, but Mumah holds me.  Binds me.  I've said it before: she is an enabler, but only if it suits HER wants.  What about setting your children free and letting them fly on their own?  Not enabling them to create bad habits and behavior.  Not having them be forever dependent upon you, that they cannot survive on their own.  Holding them in your space until you no longer need them, want them, have use for them.  I obviously still have unresolved issues.  Some thoughts go too deep.

I had an epiphany this evening.  Children. Several reasons why we procreate.  Foremost, to love them, teach them, family line, etc..  But I also see now it's because THROUGH children, parents can be young again.  See themselves in their children, in genes yes, but more so in getting another chance.  For themselves.  To live forever.  But what if you had kids for the wrong reason?  What if you had them because you're supposed to have them?  And never loved them.  Never wanted them in the first place, and put all your pain, hurt, and misery on an unsuspecting, perfect vessel?  Wanting all the wonderful things for them, after a fashion and when it was convenient for you, only to have them turn out damaged, hurt, and completely fucked in the head anyway.

Parents, friends, and family reading this, do not attack me.  I had an epiphany today, and it made all the sense in the world.  A fear of getting old, a fear of death, and a fear of having no worth in this life.  I know this is not a new idea, and I know that it's taken me all these years to figure it out, but I feel enlightened.  Am I responsible in thought alone to HAVE a child?  I don't think so.

But there may be time for me just yet.  And I mean that on many, MANY levels.

You want irony?  I was up at 4AM to... well, let's say the short ribs were Draino to my gastrointestinal tract like Draino is to, well, a drain.  I tried to go "avatar state" again only to fail and stay awake for the next 3 hours until my husband needed to get up.  NOW, I cannot sleep.  Tired as I am, sleep will not grace me this night.  Liquid Draino in the form of Braised Short Ribs.  Outstanding.

Cheers.

LMS

Atomic Weapons Testing.

Okay, so my penance for being so eager for vitamin D and sunshine has left me a bit itchy and pink.

And for all the perverts reading this, I WENT TANNING THIS MORNING.

But I must say, this new place makes my old place look completely pedestrian.  The old place went out of business last May, and I still had 7, that's SEVEN sessions to use.  Not happy.

BUT, as a "Beach Bum", I can choose my basting settings, music, fan speed, and the beds even spritz cold water on your face every 30 seconds!  Much like the produce section at your local supermarket.  I guess tanning has evolved.  I actually got very excited when touring the facility and the machines that would render me "Native looking and sexy", as I like to put it.

Now if I just didn't feel so puffy, and look as if I fell asleep ground zero at an atomic weapons testing facility.

Cheers.

LMS

35 and marching drum corps?

This whole turning 35 and deciding to march drum corps again after a 3 year hiatus is really getting to me.  Not only will I be the oldest female marching in the ENTIRE drum corps, I will be the only one over the age of 30.  Most, if not all, of the women will be in high school and college, and none older than say, 25.

I know that age is only a number, and I'm in some of the best shape of my life, can march and play circles around most, if not all of them, but deep down there is a niggling itch of doubt.

I'm thinner now than I was when I finished the 2007.  I'm not smoking anymore, and have found air and lung capacity I never knew I had.  Sean dubbed me "Laura Lungs" this past weekend.  I can find air and expand my lungs like never before.  I started smoking at age 21 (1997), and marched all those years smoking at least a pack a weekend.  By 2007 it was 2 packs a weekend.  How I marched, played, was nearly 190 lbs, ate like shit, AND had a solo that season is beyond me.  I have no idea how I got through it.  And I almost didn't in finals as I ran out of air and was close to passing out during my solo.  I ended up chipping one note because I didn't have the support to hit it.  I'll never forgive myself for that.  It's one note, and to the untrained would go unnoticed, but I know I fucked up.  I never wanted to let any one of my fellow Caballeros down, past or present.

Moving on.

Now that I'm healthy and in better shape (not the best, but better) I should be able to blow down a building with my air, march over it without breaking a sweat, and play a solo with all the ease and grace of a true Caballero.

Self loathing is a futile game.  I don't hate myself, my looks, my body, my mind, or my soul.  What I do hate is the cold, not having a tan, being stuck in the house, not having anyone to walk or run with, and just plain being lonely day in and day out.  I need a project.  Better, I need WORK to come in so I have something to do.

Here's to the next phase and starting again.

Cheers.

LMS

Fat lips.

After a weekend of drum corps and playing my face off, I have that "good" sore/ache everywhere.  I always love how my muscles feel after a weekend of intense training, music, marching, and being "hard corps".

I'm so happy and excited that one of my closest friends, and fellow mellos is returning to the ranks with me.  Now if we could get another friend to come back to the line, it will be the "Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse" reuniting to barrage people with high notes, volume, sarcasm, and a lot of O&A references. 

I've played mellophone with these guys since 2003, and it's like we share a brain.  We are so insane and tight when we play in a line together.  It is SICK.  When we have staff coming up to us and saying how they wish they could play mellophone and be in the line because we make it sound so effortless, it makes me feel warm and fuzzy, and chomping at the bit to get even better.  And we're already excellent.  As I said this past weekend, "We're getting the band back together".  So, myself, Josh, Sean, and hopefully Mark will be marching together once again in 2011.  ELATION!

On that note, why do women pay a lot of money to have fat injected into their lips to make them look full and puffy?  Play a brass instrument, you'll get the same effect for a hell of a lot less money.  I have "Angelina" lips today from playing all weekend.  They look great, but are abnormally puffy for my face.  Fat lips are easy to make, if you're an excellent horn player.  That I am.

Cheers.

LMS

The Hawthorne Caballeros

We'll touch upon this topic quite often, as I am a lifetime member of the organization.  But here is where I'm at right now with my Cabs.

After a 3 season hiatus, I return to my beloved Caballeros with so much gusto and excitement, that I can hardly contain myself.  I CANNOT WAIT for each camp weekend to come.  The music so far is a mellophone players wet dream realized.

I'll be vague because I have to be, but if I wasn't already marching with the 2011 Hawthorne Caballeros, had half my dues paid, and wasn't completely in love with the staff and my corps, I would be running to the next camp, knife in hand to cut the heads off of any horn player in my way so I could have a spot in that hornline.

That is all for now, as it's 1132PM and I have to be up and ready to go by 630AM.

I LOVE my drum corps.

Cheers.

LMS

PS- CABALLERO PRIDE

Astrology. Apocalypse. It's a no-brainer.

New Astrological sign being added to the chart means the coming of the Apocalypse for sure.  Where's my survival kit and radiation suit?

When will this country wake up from its sheep-like state of unconsciousness?  We're always being told what to buy, what to wear, what to eat, where to go, etc.  The plot line from "WALL-E" isn't too far off the mark.  WAKE THE FUCK UP PEOPLE.

I cannot stand to look at television, unless it's the Food Network (which is REALLY getting on my nerves of late), Cooking Channel, Travel Channel, and some terrific HBO/Showtime series that I thoroughly enjoy.  The news, the media, the politicians, the GARBAGE that is spewed forth and thrust upon us on a daily basis is enough to make me curl up in a corner, naked, shuddering, weeping, and mumbling to myself, "Why didn't I eat more Foie Gras?".

I think this is where "They" want us to be.  Comatose, and easily manipulated.  This IS a conspiracy.  Keep feeding them war, anger, hate, and fear, and all they'll want is more.  Same goes for kids and junk food.  What a coincidence.

Have a mind of your own, and think before you scream, "THE SKY IS FALLING" and bury your head in a shit pile.

But maybe that's where most of these mindless heads belong.  In a big, hot, gloriously stinky pool of diarrhea.  The morning after a drunken bender, creamed corn, and bad sushi.  Insert head, open mouth, swallow.  One less sheep.

Here's my Apocalypse:  The end of great suffering and anger.  To no longer fear the unknown.  Take responsibility for ourselves, each other, and our planet.  Emerging on the other side to a vision of enlightenment, hope, peace, and above all else, a society free of mindless morons and shit eaters.

But then, the world could just suddenly explode in a giant fireball.  Sending particles scattering across the endless expanse of space.  Nothing left.

The Universe will probably be way better off.

Cheers.

LMS

This to shall pass.

I don't watch the news for a reason.  That's just the way I am the past two years or so.  I'm content to live in my own head, for the most part.  If I thought, and worried about, all the things wrong with the world (and trust me, I have, at great length, to the point of madness) I would be dead.  I had to stop caring and worrying about what I cannot control. As part of getting healthy.  So I remove all reminders of the horror in the world to keep myself quite functional and sane.  Savy?

Yet, I feel this depression taking hold again.  Wrapping it's fingers around my throat and applying just enough pressure to make me panic.  But not quite enough to make me scream.  Like a frog in a pot of water.  Setting it to boil, the frog remains in the pot until it slowly cooks to death.  But if the frog is dropped into a boiling pot, it immediately hops out to safety.

When will I hop to safety?

My brain never seems to shut off and just... rest.  It's always going, going, going.  One thought into the next.  An endless cycle of thoughts, images, voices, ideas, and fear.  I can hear my heartbeat in my ears at night.  Thumping along, in the irregular way that it exists.  And it IS irregular.  In its rhythm and existence.  I fear so much, that at times when I calculate my heart rate, I feel as though my heart will explode in my chest.  I always wonder what it will feel like.  It scares me, but makes me curious.  A quandary.  An utter paradox.  That is my mind.  That is my irregular heart.  THAT is succinct.

I believe a lot of this has to do with the winter months, and the great amount of snow these past few weeks.  And the endless cold.  So cold.  I feel as though I'll never be warm again.  From my marrow.  I can never get warm enough lately.  It breaks me.  Despair is common this time of year.  And something I consider useless.  Yet, here I am.  In great despair.

Spring is coming, this I know.  But how long must I wait?  I think it won't be too long now.

This to shall pass.

Cheers.

LMS

California Dreaming.

So, getting back to California.  I cannot wait to move to NoCal and get away from East Coast living.  First time I visited California was in 2006.  Right at picking and pressing.  For those of you that have no idea what I'm talking about, it is that magical time of year when the grapes are harvested and pressed into the elixir of the Gods: VINO!

I have never been so completely moved by a state of being.  Californians, from the Oregon border all the way down to San Ysidro and the Tijuana border know how to enjoy life completely.  The landscapes, the food, and of course, the wine.  My final wishes are to be cremated and scattered off the Bixby Bridge at Big Sur.  THAT'S how much that area of Califonia effected me.

Now getting to the reason I'm not a resident of the Golden State as of yet.  I'm not an orphan.  I stay in New Jersey, yes because I'm settled here, have all of my friends here, my husband's job is here, but mostly because my mother insists upon laying guilt on me that I shouldn't leave her and move away like her parents did to her when they moved from Staten Island to Tampa in 1970.  Don't you think she should be happy for me and WANT me to fulfill a dream?  No.  Not Carolyn.  As I mentioned earlier, she is the poster child for Enablers Anonymous, but only if it benefits her.

So, I wait patiently for my turn and the day when I can pick up and go West, and never look back.  My husband has 5 offices in California.  One in San Francisco in fact, and 40 minutes south of where I would eventually like to live.  That's about his commute now.  He can be an engineer anywhere, and I can certainly cook anywhere.

I have a grand plan of what I would like to do with the land we buy, potentially a small vineyard.  We'll touch upon that another time.

Until then, here's to California Dreaming, and making dreams into reality.

Cheers.

LMS

Firewood and Ribeyes.

I watch a sleeping Border Collie as she dreams of squirrels, human food, and ESPN.  Some moments in life are just sublime.

I haven't been sleeping well, and I really don't know why.  Not being able to fall asleep at a normal hour, then tossing and turning all night long only to finally fall asleep as the sun is coming up.  This is not a good pattern.  They say the body changes every few years, well, I seem to be in for a major overhaul.

I did have a dream last night about firewood and ribeyes though.  Maybe it was just my chore list for today permeating my thoughts as I tried futilely to get some rest.  Or maybe it was a Border Collie's dream invading my own.

Cheers.

LMS

Taking it all back.

Today is the day I take my life back again. I was on track for a long time and then got lazy and complacent. So, starting today, I get back on the path the lead me to lose 30 lbs, get healthy, look better, and above all else, feel better from the inside out.

That being said, alcohol consumption will be reduced to twice a week. Breakfast will be eaten every day.  I will start running or at least fast walking once more of this snow melts.  I need to get more cardio into my daily life.  I posses the knowledge, I just need to motivate myself.  Motivation should come like a gunshot every time I look at my fat, lazy body in the mirror every morning.  A healthy tan should be mandatory year round.  WOW am I a fat, pasty mess.  I should say, "skinny/fat".  I'm flabby and out of shape.  Maybe I should get off the couch and DO something.

Next up, finding a part time job to get out of the house a few hours a day, a few days a week, since TMC has no business coming in at the moment.

There is no try.  Only do.  Thanks Yoda.

Cheers.

LMS

Duck, Duck, Duck.

I decided to take on the task of boning a duck.  It was actually easy.  You must have the proper instructions, a very sharp knife, patience, and of course, excellent knife skills.  I possess all of these things.  The interesting part was stuffing, sewing, trussing and wrapping the damn thing in pasrty crust.  That being said, I succeeded.

I hope it tastes as good as it looks.  I know it will.

Cheers.

LMS

Nothing of worth.

I will not make an entry unless there is something of worth to make an entry about.

But I will make an entry to keep up with making entries so I keep entertaining you.

Cheers.

LMS

One of my favorite topics.

On the precipice of attending a wake for a friend and Caballero, I find myself thinking about one of my favorite topics: Death.
Everyone has a different opinion about what happens to us after we die, and I suppose I'm not any different.  I feel that there is irrefutable evidence from the paranormal arena that suggests the presence of ghosts and "lost souls" trapped in limbo.  I've personally felt at times that I was not alone in a room, knowing full well I was the only person in the house.  I believe that my maternal Grandfather is always watching out for me.  I suppose, simply, it is because I want to believe he is.

I think as human beings we have a fear of the unknown, a sense of feeling lost, being disconnected, and alone.  Like searching for alien life, death is no different in that we want to know we're not going through all of this alone.  Why do people have to get old, sick, and ultimately die?  I know death is a part of life, a journey we all must take, as Gandalf says, but it can still be a mind fuck of epic proportions.

A human life in length is infinitesimal in the scheme of things as it is, now add cancer, irresponsible drivers, murderers, catastrophic events, heart attacks, etrc. and that life expectancy drops considerably.  I have a great Aunt that recently celebrated her 98th birthday.  She's never been married, never had children, I'm absolutely certain she has never been with a man, or woman for that matter, and she is well taken care of in an assisted living facility on Staten Island, and she doesn't have to pay a dime to live there.  The irony?  All she does is complain about everything from the food to the staff to her dining tablemates, and that her feet hurt.  She is still sharp as a tack and misses nothing.  Boggles my mind.

I've had a thought over the years that might not make sense to anyone, but it makes perfect sense to me:

If we cannot remember being born, how can we remember dying?

Cheers.

LMS

PS- RIP Jack Kotran, you will be missed my great friend.  I know you're up there with your bottle of yellow Gatorade, spiked with Absolute and a bucket of Tootsie Pops ready to cheer on your Caballeros in 2011.  =D