beyond the loop

root beer braised short ribs

2009-05-12T15:54:00.000-07:00

For Easter, my friend, Jaime, got a new Le Crueset pot in Kiwi. I had gotten the same pot for Christmas. She suggested she wanted to make braised short ribs, and passed along some recipes. The plan was to make them together (1500 miles apart), and compare notes, but alas that didn't quite work out. Never fear, there will be more short ribs to make!

Since it just so happened, we had bought some root beer, I honed in on the root beer braised short ribs recipe. They all looked pretty tasty though. I modified the original recipe from the Miami Herald, just a bit. I just didn't think fake beef bouillon cubes (which was all they had at my local Whole Foods) was the way to go. Also, I ended up buying only 3 pounds or ribs, which is a good thing as that is all that would fit in the pot. I still made the same amount of sauce though.

One more note: definitely make this recipe the night before you want to serve it. It will make removing the extra fat much easier. Plus I think they got better the second night.

Here's the recipe:

¼ cup flour

2 tablespoons cooking oil

3 pounds bone-in beef short ribs

2 ribs celery, sliced

2 medium onions, peeled and sliced

2 medium parsnips, peeled and sliced

6 garlic cloves, peeled

1 (12-ounce) bottle root beer, preferably micro-brewed

1 ½ cups beef broth

2 tablespoons tomato paste

2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

2 bay leaves

Heat oven to 300 degrees. Place flour in a gallon-size food-storage bag. Season ribs with salt and pepper.

Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Working in batches, add the ribs to the bag, shake to coat with flour, shake off the excess and brown well on the meaty side, 3 to 5 minutes. Set aside.

Heat remaining 1 tablespoon oil in the pot. Sauté the celery, onions, parsnips and garlic over medium heat until lightly browned, about 5 minutes. Add root beer, bouillon, tomato paste, vinegar and bay leaves. Bring to boil, stirring to loosen browned bits on bottom of pan.

Return short ribs to Dutch oven, partially submerging them in the liquid. Cover tightly. Braise in oven 3 hours. Let cool, then refrigerate the sauce separately and remove the hardened layer from the top. Pour the sauce over the dish and reheat it, covered, in a 350-degree oven for 20 to 30 minutes.

We got just shy of 6 servings with only 3 pounds of ribs. The original suggested a pound of ribs per person. We served it with mashed potatoes and sauteed spinach.

If you want the entire list of recipes I had to chose from, go here. I suspect I will try at least one of the others.

Enjoy!

on the night stand :: A Reliable Wife

mother's day project 2009

2009-05-10T00:49:00.000-07:00

canon digital rebel xsi

It is hard to explain - what I refer to as the Mother's Day Project. It literally started with needing something to do with my rage and pity that seemed to seep out on Mother's Day, after my mother was gone.

It is hard to explain how it feels to be bombarded by ads in email, on television, the radio, the Internet, the highway, etc. about a day that no longer seems relevant to you. Part of me wanted to scream, while another part wanted to lock myself away until it was over. It was really weird too, since I didn't have such powerful emotions around father's day, but maybe that has more to say about how society feels about fathers.

At any rate, the hiding and the screaming ideas just weren't working. So I decided to divert my energy. The first year, I sent 3 or 4 cards to my friends who were moms. It gave me something to focus on. I bought the cards.

The next year I did the same, adding a few more moms to the list. Again, I didn't make the cards. At some point, I figured it would be very expensive to send store bought cards to everyone that I wanted to, and I also wanted to make it more personal. And so the idea of sending postcards came about, using my own photographs.

There was a year I didn't do it. And then the next year, the list of recipients grew. Now the list is just shy of one hundred. They go all over the world. I think that is the most amazing thing.

Despite thinking about this year's project 35 days ago, I sent them all out on Friday at 5pm. Most won't arrive on Mother's Day, but that's okay. I do my best. That's all I can do.

To some, I am sure it seems silly. Why go to the trouble and the expense? It keeps me off the streets and out of trouble. But it is also a way to honor my Mother, and the mothers I know. I may not be a mother, but I get the importance of the job. I get that all mothers need support. That's what the day is about after all.

on the night stand :: The Mercy Papers: A Memoir of Three Weeks by Robin Romm.

the words are the same

2009-05-09T23:44:00.000-07:00

canon digital rebel xsi

Since writing this I learned that Mother's Day was not the creation of the evil geniuses at Hallmark. It was created by Anna Jarvis of West Virginia in 1907. She started the tradition of wearing carnations: pink if your mother is alive; white is your mother is deceased.

originally posted on May 11, 2003

sometimes a lie is the best thing

This is a simple truth: the only way onto this planet (sans spacecraft) is via a mother. Sure, modern science has blurred a few lines about who exactly a mother is, although surrogacy has been around since biblical times. But even with test tubes and Petri dishes, it all boils down to the same thing. The largest cell joins the smallest cell, and creation takes place.

So a mother could be considered a vessel, a ship. A storage space that leads you to a passageway – a point of entrance into this world. Thus a connection/bond like no other is formed. We lived inside of this being. We were literally nurtured by her body. Fed by what she took in, good or bad. Her body offered shelter and protection. And then when certain conditions came together, we emerged, and were literally cut from that which created us. And that is why we cry.

No matter what happened after that, we still share that connection. We will have it with no one else. It is a one-time deal. No one comes into this world alone. There will only ever be one person who got us here. Like it or not, those are the facts.

Today I read an entry about the kinds of mothers that there are. The author mentioned mothers no longer with us, those with children who are no longer of this earth, mothers who no longer have custody of their children (because of court orders, adoption, or otherwise), and mothers who are estranged from their offspring, or at least in complicated relationships. I would like to add to that list mothers who felt that the best decision for them both was to not take things to term. They are all mothers, and should be honored on this day.

Today being that day brought to us by Hallmark, and sponsored by 1-800-flowers.com, South Western Bell, and Avon, I, of course, thought about my own mother. Mother’s Day 1999 was the last time I sent her a card. Had I known then that it would be the last, I’m still not sure what I would have said. I know on some deep level that she loved me, and that she knew I loved her. That my leaving was the best thing for me, and in some ways her, too. That she never wanted me to take on the role of mother to her, and yet it happened.

What haunts me still is something I found among her things. A note about how she wished she had sent me (in addition to my sister) back to live with our paternal grandmother. Also that she had never had the abortion that she did. The one that I am still not sure if she knew I knew about. [I was about 10.] These were her two greatest regrets.

The irony of that is not lost on me. She didn’t want to deal with the children she did have, but yet regretted not bringing another into this world. Okay, I suppose it was more that she was not pregnant to begin with. And yes, I realize that she was quite sick when she wrote this. That her brain was literally rotting away. That she didn’t mean it.

But still it hurts. I can’t tell you that it doesn’t or that it shouldn’t. I just wish it didn’t.

This is the first m-day since then that I ventured out. To observe the world as it celebrated. I watched as a son helped his mother into Starbucks so that she could use the gift card that someone had given her on Mother’s Day. She had one of those new fangled walkers.

Meanwhile, at the table next to me, I listened, as the mother of three was chided by her teenage daughter for almost sitting in her space. Each had several shopping bags. I’d almost bet that none of it was for mom.

Across from me sat a woman on her cell phone. Alone. She kept looking over at me. I think we were both trying to figure out why we didn’t have a mom or children with us. I think she was gay; I think she thought I might have been.

I watched a son with his little boy and his grandma played outside. The grandmother seemed thrilled to get this opportunity to play with her son’s son. She was all dressed up. The little boy was beaming at all the attention being showered upon him.

I sat sipping my iced tea and observed. I wanted to tell them, warn them really, that life is short. To cherish these moments as they could be the last. But I know that no one listens. I didn’t. Why would I expect anyone else to hear the simple truth?

Eventually I couldn’t take any more. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. So I headed back home to hide, wishing this day would be over. That the flowers and cards and displays would just go away. Some days are just too hard to celebrate.

There are some days that I wish I
could put your hand in mine and I
could let you feel, truly feel, the
experience of this loss. This grief, that
I am told will dissipate over time but
will never, ever go away

A single thought, and it all comes flooding back
remembering that that was when I last used a pay phone, for example
or even the taste of a particular cookie
the smell of someone wearing a particular perfume
total recall

on the night stand :: Motherless Daughters

back on the mainland

2009-05-03T23:08:00.000-07:00

canon digital rebel xsi

Back from the honeymoon. Had a great time. Some highlights:

Yes, I really read a book about divorce on my honeymoon.

We did the underwater boat tour.

I am sunburned and tired.

The boat ride back was packed.

I think I told the only family I have contact with that I got married via a post card.

We seem to have lost an iPhone headset. I am sure it will turn up.

Tomorrow is my husband's birthday. I got excited about finally getting to buy a 'for my husband' card, but now I can't find it.

on the night stand :: A Reliable Wife

the love boat

2009-05-02T21:54:00.000-07:00

canon digital rebel xsi

Who knew the ways something like the swine flu epidemic could effect you? It would seem that a few of the cruise ships which were headed to Mexico decided to dock in Catalina instead. Few scenarios are worse than a flu outbreak on a cruise ship!

The Island was overrun with cruise ship tourists most of the day. Normally this time of year is pretty quiet on Catalina - like all seaside tourist spots, the busy season begins mid-May. It is a good thing though for the local economy.

And yes, one of the boats we saw today was The Love Boat (aka Princess Cruises). It does feel a bit like we are back in the 80's. All the music they play here is prior to 1987.

on the night stand :: Happens Every Day

on honeymoon

2009-05-01T14:48:00.000-07:00

canon digital rebel xsi

Off on our honeymoon to Catalina Island. I haven't been since summer camp; B has never been. Should be fun!

on the night stand :: Happens Every Day

time flies

2009-04-30T12:04:00.000-07:00

canon digital rebel xsi

Ten years ago today I was fired by my friend. Okay, that isn't entirely true. She didn't fire me - she had the new person do it. Really, she did.

Honestly though, I shouldn't have been surprised. I was part of the firing of another when I was the new girl. That person was actually the ex-lover of her ex-lover. Oh yes, it was that insane a place to work.

For most of the time I worked there, it was a four women and a dog office. Who knew there could be so much drama and chaos in that? During my just more than a year there, at least two of my coworkers had nervous breakdowns. In fact, one was scheduled to return the day after I was let go, after a months leave. Probably not a coincidence.

I was fired because I was late. Less than ten minutes. I had been warned. Was put on probation. Written up. I was supposed to call so she didn't have to worry I was dead on MoPac. Of course this was before I had a cell phone.

In my defense, I didn't have a position that required me to be there promptly. I wasn't hired to answer the phones, although often found myself doing so. I also often worked 80 hours a week, usually coming in to the office at least six, sometimes seven, days a week.

Before she left, the woman who was out on nervous breakdown leave, had somehow managed to convince our boss and friend that I wasn't doing my share of the work. I had been labeled the problem employee, although the new woman - the one who had to fire me - saw that quite the opposite was true. She even took me aside at one point and explained that she had been told that I was the problem employee, although clearly she realized, that this wasn't the case - quite the opposite was true.

I had also had a heart-to-heart with my boss and friend just a few days prior to all of this going down. One of her issues was that I wasn't sharing enough. I explained that I was seeing a therapist for my depression, which on some level she knew. It was her that put the pamphlet in my hand that led me to him.

Only a few weeks before this, B had popped the question, and given me a ring. She said it would never happen. My first day back at the office, I hid the ring. I don't think I made it quite through the day before I told her. It was hard to keep secrets in that place.

There was another private talk, maybe a month before this went down. I was taken aside and given a jewelry box from her business trip to Korea. It had happened because I was there late, and answered the phone. She told me that everyone else got a pen, but she knew that I had been keeping the office running while she was gone, and so had gotten me something extra. Something special. You can only imagine how shaken to the core I was when a few weeks later I was being shown the door. I didn't trust myself. I didn't know what to believe.

I could tell you so many stories of my time at the company. Most you would think I had made up, they were so unbelievable. They really were. I don't think I believed what was happening. I think that is what they mean when they say by willing suspension of disbelief. I lived in that state a lot.

But back to that day. It was a Friday. I remember packing up my stuff. I had already brought much of my stuff home - a part of me knew this was possible. I called B at his work, and then went home and cried for a bit. I had one of those daily meditation books. It had an angel on the cover. I opened it to the date. It said something about windows opening when a door closed. It was somewhat comforting, but I think I cried some more anyway.

B met me for lunch at a place around the corner called Bubba's. We were in Austin, after all. Did I mention I started working at this company in San Francisco? I came out for what was supposed to be a few weeks to finish a project, and ended up staying five years. My being let go happened just a couple of weeks shy of my one year mark in Austin. Of course at the point most of my friends and connections were through that job. I didn't kid myself that I would be on my own henceforth.

What I never talked about, and which I am sure was never even understood was what a part of me knew was brewing inside. In that almost year in Austin, everyone else's mother came to visit (from California, Colorado, and even France). I was invited to lunches and/or dinners with these women. It was a painful reminder of what a part of me knew was happening - that my mother was drinking herself to death.

I am sure that I was probably more down than usual after those visits. I am sure on some level they noticed, but didn't make the connection. As I said, a part of me could feel it happening, although I was in deep denial for the most part. I didn't talk about it. Even in therapy I had managed to focus on thinking about my father's death (I had somehow learned he had had a stroke), but not my mother's, even though it would happen within six weeks of my being let go.

There was a part of me that wanted to call her after I learned about my mother's passing. It took a lot not to. I couldn't get sucked back in. I was at least far enough out to know that my leaving there, wasn't entirely a bad thing.

I confess I have looked her up (online) over the last decade a few times. I know that her mother, too has passed. She now has a restaurant that bears her mother's name.

on the night stand :: The Mercy Papers

suspended disbelief

2009-04-30T11:55:00.000-07:00

canon digital rebel xsi

lists are good

2009-04-29T20:31:00.000-07:00

canon digital rebel xsi

Sometimes I just need to put it down in a list:

I have signed up to post every day in May. I hope to be successful in my quest. I miss writing, and know it is a bad sign when I stop for a long period.

I am going to start a book group thanks to Starbucks.

We are going on a belated honeymoon this weekend thanks to the generosity of B's coworkers.

The last two books I read made me cry.

Looking forward to 100th episode of Lost. Am listing to podcast by @hawaii

My name change is in process. I am literally between names.

on the night stand :: The Mercy Papers

35 days until mother's day

2009-04-05T20:57:00.000-07:00

canon digital rebel xsi

I realize I probably should ~~finish~~ start my wedding announcements, but am already thinking about my annual Mother's Day Project. Of course, if you don't know, my Mother has been dead for nearly a decade, and I am not a mother myself. So why would I bother with a Mother's Day Project?

Several years back, I was completely overwhelmed by Mother's Day. I had decided I would just stay inside all day, and try to ignore it, but it didn't work. So I did something about it. The first year I sent cards to a couple of my friends who had recently had babies, and one to a friend that was a nun, and a bit like a grandmother to me. She was the first person I called after learning about my mother.

The next year, I did the same thing again, but added a few more people to the list. I was buying cards back then. Then I got the bright idea of putting my photography to work. I found these cool postcard papers that let you easily adhere a photo. The list kept growing. I think last year I came close to 100 cards sent. They went all over the world.

So the question becomes do I grow the project? Thanks to Twitter, I know a lot more moms. Or do I do something different? Would love feedback.

on the night stand :: The Little Giant of Aberdeen County by Tiffany Baker

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i have been married two months

2009-04-04T19:48:00.001-07:00

canon digital rebel xsi

It sounds weird saying it. Two months in, and it really hasn't set completely. We finally got the official certificates so I can go about the process of changing my name. Already I am starting to switch to my married name when I introduce myself.

The other night I remember introducing myself to two people in a row, using my full married name. It felt odd, but at the same time, a part of me was giddy. Another part of a bit sad because someone had noted to one of the men that he had a fine Irish name. In my head, I was thinking, I can no longer really say that. I am turning into a Chinese guy.

I did take the first step in changing my name. I went to the Social Security Administration website. I figured out the form, and then entered my zip code to determine where I needed to send it. I got an error message informing me that information was not available at this time. Anyone else think this is odd? I mean how often is a new Social Security office opened? I am just happy to learn I can do it by mail. Won't be as lucky with the DMV.

on the night stand :: Sing Them Home by Stephanie Kallos

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this one time at camp - oh wait

2009-04-01T20:52:00.000-07:00

canon digital rebel xsi

Recently Adrienne's House posted about how people can get their panties in a knot over what to call spring break. I say it doesn't matter what you call it, you just need to know when it is.

When I was in 5th grade, my Mom signed us up for YMCA camp over spring break. Of course we were in Catholic school, so our break was truly an Easter break. We went home early Holy Thursday, were off on Good Friday, and then back in school the week after Easter.

That Friday night my sister and I rolled up our sleeping bags, and packed up our clothes. We went to bed early as we had to be up first thing to be on the bus that would take us to the mountains for a week.

We arrived shortly after 8, to find the parking lot at the YMCA empty. Where was the bus? Where were the other campers? Were we early? Late?

Several minutes passed, and still there wasn't any sign of anyone. In these situations my sister and I knew better than to say anything, so just sat silently in the back seat, clutching our knapsacks. Around a quarter to nine, one of the staff showed up to open the office. She recognized my Mom, and wondered where we were last week.

That's right, we missed camp because my Mom didn't bother to check the dates. She figured spring break was spring break. And yes, no one from the YMCA called to find out why we didn't show up, despite a single mother paying in full for her two daughters to attend camp.

Honestly, I really wasn't looking forward to going to camp, so wasn't very disappointed. I do think though that that was the Easter we had cold pizza for dinner. I don't remember what she did with us that week. No memory at all.

on the night stand ::Little Bee by Chris Cleave

in like a lion - out like a lamb

2009-03-31T16:37:00.000-07:00

canon digital rebel xsi

Am feeling a bit overwhelmed these days. Maybe I listen to too much NPR? Or maybe I should stop watching the 11 o'clock news: I find myself yelling at the TV - how is that news? - most nights, so it is probably time.

How did it get to be the last day of March? How can I have turned another year older? How can my sister be gone for five years? How can I be married for almost two months (and not sent out announcements)?

Hmmmm....maybe this stress thing is starting to make sense.

Meanwhile I feel like John the Baptist, a lone evangelist, out in the wilds of the book publishing industry, trying to promote a book by a group of P&G alumni who live in Europe. Amazon keeps selling out of the darn thing, although I can't take credit for it entirely. It's about changing the rules of business to win. Check it out.

Tonight I am off to a Social Media event. Should be interesting. Hoping to use new iPhone Bump application by some clever Booth students.

on the night stand :: The Impossible Advantage

if i get fifty percent i'd be shocked

2009-02-22T16:51:00.000-08:00

My Oscar Picks (in bold)

Best Picture:
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Frost/Nixon
Milk
The Reader
Slumdog Millionaire

Best Actor:
Richard Jenkins, The Visitor
Frank Langella, Frost/Nixon
Sean Penn, Milk
Brad Pitt, Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Mickey Rourke, The Wrestler

Best Supporting Actor:
Josh Brolin, Milk
Robert Downey, Jr., Tropic Thunder
Philip Seymour Hoffman, Doubt
Heath Ledger, The Dark Knight
Michael Shannon, Revolutionary Road

Best Actress:
Anne Hathaway, Rachel Getting Married
Angelina Jolie, Changeling
Melissa Leo, Frozen River
Meryl Streep, Doubt
Kate Winslet, The Reader

Best Supporting Actress:
Amy Adams, Doubt
Penelope Cruz, Vicky Cristina Barcelona
Viola Davis, Doubt
Taraji P. Henson, Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Marisa Tomei, The Wrestler

Best Animated Feature:
Bolt
Kung Fu Panda
WALL-E

on the night stand :: Groundswell

the ten year engagement ends

2009-02-05T01:01:00.000-08:00

B & I were legally married on Wednesday, February, 4, 2009 - the anniversary of our first kiss. It was a private ceremony held at the LA County court house. There were no witnesses as we took advantage of the confidential (aka rock star) marriage license. The record is sealed. It takes a court order to get a copy of the marriage certificate. It should save us from unsolicited mail.

We arrived a half hour early, as instructed. We had to pay the fee for the copies of the certificate plus the ceremony fee. We were then told to wait in the waiting area. That was the saddest part of the day. Lots of pregnant women getting married. People in jeans and t-shirts. It just felt like people didn't really take this seriously.

Our appointment was at 1:30pm. We were called in at about 1:40pm. We had to go around to the chapel, and be let in. The wait seems forever. Ironically my cell phone rang. I didn't answer it. Turned out to be a wrong number from Chicago.

Once inside, things happened pretty quickly, although it also felt like time stood still. The officiant said we were the sweetest couple she married this year.

I think we broke every rule. We made our own rules. There really aren't any rules.

B ordered a ring while his family was still here. Since they extended their stay there really wasn't much choice in the matter. As it turned out, the ring arrived the morning of the wedding. It meant we got the grand tour of LA county. We drove across the San Gabriel Valley to Pasadena to pick it up, and then out to Norwalk for the ceremony. From there we headed to the Westside.

Neither of us had eaten more than a cup of tea and a couple of bites of baked goodies from Bakesale Betty, so first order of business (after switching shoes) was to find something to eat. It was after 2pm, so we headed northwest and tried to figure something out. I remember talk of a Jewish Deli in Culver City that had been there over 40 years. I thought it was called the Rock 'n Rye. Google correctly routed us to the Roll n' Rye. The food was plentiful and delicious. I had a chicken salad sandwich on sourdough and B got the cheese blitzes. The homemade pickles were to die for. Learned that they were a family recipe.

Next it was off to the W in Westwood. Gigi* at the front desk noticed the note B put in the reservation (that it was our wedding night), and upgraded us to the WOW Suite. Oh my! WOW!! It had a living room, a separate study, along with a separate bedroom and bath. We had views of UCLA and the pool. You could actually see clear to the ocean. The weather in LA on Wednesday was 80F. Can't believe we left our swimsuits back at the house. Oh well. Next time.

We had dinner at a lovely place in Santa Monica. We got their early so stopped at RiteAide to get some cough syrup for me. I am still sick. Somehow the staff at the restaurant thought it was our anniversary. They sent over a plate of cookies with a candle. We didn't correct them. Technically it was the anniversary of our first kiss (that links to the story if you missed it).

________________________________________
* She was also the first person to officially call me Mrs. Go aloud when she called to check on how we liked the room.

on the night stand :: The Impossible Advantage

post every day in february

2009-02-01T23:59:00.000-08:00

It sounds easy enough. Post once a day for the month of February. Should be even easier given that February has a mere 28 days. Of course it doesn't help that I caught whatever it is that is going around, and cannot seem to shake it. So let's begin with a list of things that I am planning for February, in no particular order:

Visit the Huntington Library

Celebrate Brownie Cow day (02.14) - he will be 10!!

Post my recipe for ebelskivers - yummy donuts.

Watch some of the Academy Award nominated movies.

Edit my photos from the Rose Parade.

Review several books, starting with the ones I read in January.

Write about our trip to the Bay Area, where our plans fell to pieces.

Attend a TweetUp.

Officially become a wife. We have been engaged for almost 10 years too. It's time.

That should be a good starting point.

on the night stand :: The Impossible Advantage: Winning the Competitive Game by Changing the Rules

how to get a booth to las vegas

2009-01-14T11:42:00.000-08:00

B was tasked with getting the booth display to Las Vegas. It had to be at a Best Western at a particular time. It was going to be used by one of their partners, who are doing a demo of their product. When he called the hotel, and explained his needs, he was not impressed. He worried that despite FedEx’s best efforts, something would go wrong.

Since the stand weighs 85 pounds, taking it in our Civic was out of the question. It looks like a giant film canister on wheels, but there is no way to get in into the back seat or the trunk because of its size. He looked into renting an SUV, and determined that it was slightly less than sending the stand back and forth via a shipping company. It also meant he had some control over its safe arrival in the given time slot, and probably its safe return (in hindsight).

The only real issue was payment. In order to prepay the car, we had to pick it up at Burbank Airport. Not a problem, except the airport location is set up for people flying into Burbank. Fair enough. Still, one pass through the airport only to see signs saying “car rental vehicles only” had us pulling into a strip mall so B could find out if we really needed to park at the short term parking to pick up a car. Thankfully, we didn’t.

Since we hadn’t eaten, I decided to run into Panda Express while he figured things out. We shared some orange chicken, and accidentally figured out the best way into the car rental lot, bypassing another trip around the airport at 10mph.

We parked our car, and walked over the few hundred feet to the terminal. After a few minutes we were handed the keys to a Ford Explorer with almost 36,000 miles on it. No one walked us out to do a car inspection and there were no inspection papers in our folder. There was sap on the vehicle, a few minor dings, and the interior was filthy. All of the upholstery had stains. Our only other choice was a Hummer, but that is against my religion, even if it does get about the same gas mileage. Hello, we drove into this lot in a Civic with over 200k miles that still can get 40 miles to the gallon on road trips.

I called a guy over and he helped us note the issues, and we were finally on our way. I am the only authorized driver as one of the clauses in the fine print doesn’t cover non-citizens. Technically B is still a legal resident alien.

We headed back to the office to pick up the canister that holds the booth. I couldn’t figure out how to adjust the seat and was having trouble reaching the pedals. Also, the heat was on high, and I was already on the road and too anxious to try and figure that out. I rolled down the window and stayed in the slow lane with the trucks. Amazingly I didn’t make the wrong turn I usually do onto Colorado Boulevard. Also managed to get a parking spot on the ground floor to save us a trip in the elevator.

B’s coworker met us and helped us load up the car. We then followed him to his house, where we left our car, which I realized on the way over has a broken brake light. We also had to move the rest of our stuff that we were taking with us into the SUV. The fun part was that we were parking where the coworker’s neighbor parks, so he had to move his truck so we could park so he could get in and out. Of course he was ready to move his truck before we had everything out of the car. Still not sure we got everything we packed.

I figured out how to adjust the seat, and also how to control the heat. We even played a CD on the way to Vegas! There was a sticker on the window saying it had Sirus, but apparently that is an extra feature they didn’t try to sell us since we were pre-paid.

The next morning, we checked out of our hotel, and headed to the Best Western to drop off the stand. We arrived at the appointed hour. Pulling up to the hotel, I could tell that B had made the right decision. The place looked dirty and scary. He went inside to get someone to help him, but they basically wouldn’t do it. Thankfully the canister is on wheels, so he managed okay on his own, and saved giving them a tip. The killer part – after all of that – the stand is too tall for the room. One of the people suggested putting it outside, but we will just have to chalk that up to being from a foreign country.^* Maybe a homeless guy would take to a busy intersection and they could get free advertising that way?! Of course the question becomes how to get it back.

_____________________________________________________________________
^* Did I mention B’s parents wanted to stick the decorated Christmas tree on the front lawn to show the neighbor’s their holiday spirit? Yeah, they really did.

on the night stand :: The Monsters of Templeton by Lauren Groff

on top of a lake

2009-01-13T11:44:00.000-08:00

It has been a crazy few weeks. I am just happy to say we all survived the holidays. Of course, it didn’t end there. Apparently my calling the house the “lake cabin” wasn’t entirely a misnomer – the lake seems to be underneath the house!

On Monday we arrived back at the lake cabin (after a day in Pasadena) to find a large van blocking the driveway, and three men in white Hazmat suits standing on the front lawn. Should you ever find yourself in this situation, the best advice I can give you is to keep driving. Instead we went in to investigate. Big mistake.

It would seem that after all my asking about the strange smell in the house, B’s parents decided it was time to take action. They tried calling “the only plumber they trust”, but it seems he has skipped town and is now in Miami. His recommendation was that they get a current copy of The Penny Saver. Seriously.

They had trouble getting someone to show up same day, but apparently one finally did. After some investigation, it was discovered that the point at where all the water sources in the house collect to go to the sewer was leaking. It was so bad, in fact, that they had to take immediate action.

The good news was that the homeowner’s policy should cover it. The bad news was that they didn’t manage the expectations of the parental unit properly, and given that they watch 20/20 religiously, there was a two-hour back-and-forth over signing papers giving the plumbing company authorization to directly bill the insurance company. I went and hid under the covers at that point. It was freezing in the house.

Before that happened though, they laid down plastic to protect the 25-year old carpet, and set up a long hose to start pumping out the raw sewage – aka “the lake” – under the house. During the process there were at least a dozen guys through the house, and at least three trucks in the driveway. The smell was intense, so we went out for a bite to eat.

Once the large van was filled with waste, the next step was to try and kill all the bacteria and their friends living down there. This was done by pouring limestone into the affected area. Wish I could say that made it smell better – it really didn’t.

The hot water also had to be turned off so the guys working in the area would not be burned by hot pipes. This meant that technically the house was uninhabitable, so around 1 o’clock in the morning, all of us headed out to check into a nearby hotel. I packed not only for the night, but also for our six-day trip to Vegas. Needless to say it was not my finest packing.

We arrived at the hotel, and B and his father went to inquire about rooms. We may be in Southern California, but the temperatures can still dip into the 30’s at night. While the rest of us sat freezing in the cars, B’s father actually looked at hotel rooms (his brother may be visiting). Really, he did. B was a witness. Keep in mind, they had to be back at the house by 8:30am in order to let the workmen in, so they could finish what they started. I really don’t understand.

We missed the free breakfast, but stopped by the house before hitting the road as I forgot a couple of things. B’s mother was there by herself. Apparently the other two were off at the DMV. That will give you an idea of the smell. They ended up spending the entire day at the DMV only to have his sister fail the written exam (she has since passed).

At any rate, this hopefully will rid the house of that awful musty smell. I have no idea what we have been exposed to. Maybe we will have more pep in the New Year? Who knows? It took the plumbers three days to finish the job. Thankfully we had Las Vegas to escape to. You know it is bad when Las Vegas is your escape.

on the night stand :: The Story of a Marriage by Andrew Greer

twenty-four hours to go

2008-12-19T22:07:00.000-08:00

I am still not done, but two funny things did happen today. The first was at the post office.

I decided that I wanted to go to the post office. I may not get my Christmas cards in the mail by the 25th, but I wanted my friends to get their presents before then. So the first thing I did today was pack up the mail. I got three packages ready to go, and headed over to the post office. I got very lucky and snagged a prime parking spot. There was a bell ringer, acting as a doorman. When I heard his bell, I snagged two quarters from the ashtray and then locked the car doors with the packages still inside. So much for being efficient.

The line inside wasn't too bad. It ended at the inner door of the post office. While I was in line I noticed a woman who had moved to the side to fill out a form or something. She was done, but the postal worker was helping another person who had also stepped to the side to fix something. He told her he would be right with her.

When it was finally her turn, she handed him her forms and he asked her what she was mailing. What he meant was how she wanted to send her package. She pulled out another form and said this was the address she needed to send it to. It turned out she was mailing an American Express check for $44,000. She wanted to send it regular mail.

The guy behind the counter was beside himself. He explained that that was a large sum of money and the with regular mail, there was no way to track it, if it got lost. He strongly advised her to mail it certified or at least delivery confirmation. He went to the back to finish the transaction, and when he returned she was gone. Want to bet she just dropped that check in the mailbox?

Weird incident number two happened in the kitchen.

When I returned home, after redeeming our recycling check and grabbing lunch, I did the dishes. The disposal side was backing up, so I decided to run it. After a few seconds it started to make one of those noises you don't like to hear. I thought for sure another spoon had gotten stuck down there. I was quite stunned to find my sock!

I was not sure initially how my sock could have ended up in the garbage disposal. Someone suggested that the washing machine was backing up into the sink. The only thing is that the washing machine is clear across on the other side of the house. If that were the case, I probably shouldn't flush any of the toilets, or who knows what would happen.

I decided to pour all the liquor in the cabinets down the sink. I haven't been drinking. But B said I could toss the stuff since most of it has been sitting in that cupboard for a very long time.

That's when I figured out that I had recently pre-soaked some white laundry in a plastic tub in the sink. It had included a couple of pairs of my socks. I guess when I drained the tub, one of the socks went into the disposal. I am just glad I found it and not B's mother. Can you imagine? And this one time....

on the night stand :: Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road

not there yet

2008-12-18T12:33:00.000-08:00

I am really surprised that I am not more panicky. I look around and keep seeing things that need to be done. Honestly I don't know why I didn't get more finished today.

I keep telling myself I can do this. It will be okay. But I guess I am tired of it. I don't know.

It doesn't help when I see things that I thought were finished, need to be redone. I "polished" the new fridge a few days ago. It came with this bottle of stuff that did an amazing job. Left it like it was new. Today I noticed a big smudge on the door. Oy!

The perfectionist in me is having a grand old time. Everywhere I look I see little tiny details that need to be tended to. I think it is because I am using my super judgmental eyes. I remember growing up and I would do something like clean the kitchen. My Mom would go over my work, and grab me by the arm and bring me to the counter and show me some speck of something that I had missed. It is weird the stuff the sticks with you.

I guess I am worried that even after everything I do, it won't matter. Something will be found that I have done wrong, and it will completely negate what I have done. Never good enough. Never right.

I have less than two days to pull this all together and make it work. I was reminded today that I need to be positive. I need to go in and not have expectations. This is my holiday too, and it is my job to have fun and enjoy it. If others don't want to, I can't make them.

on the night stand :: Cooking with All Things Trader Joe's

and then there were three

2008-12-17T22:22:00.000-08:00

I am down to the final three days. There is still much to do. All the little details.

Big event of today was cleaning the oven. Thrilling, I know. Oven cleaner has come a long way, but it still stinks. And because of the pouring rain, I could not open the windows. I only had these disposable gloves meant for keeping your hands clean when working with food. I think I changed them about ten times. Maybe because there were 500 of them in the box? It was like a surgical procedure. I am still not sure why they are there. I kept calling them OJ gloves, although they are not quite the same.

The dining room table is like excavating an archeology site, and the thing I have been avoiding. All these layers of the weeks and months gone by. Where does all this paper come from? The goal is to not get sidetracked by a find (like an address for those Christmas cards that might just become New Year's cards). At the same time it is hard not to get overwhelmed with where everything needs to go. I am trying not to micro-organize.

The linens are about finished. At least I think they are.

Friday is still going to be a make or break it day. Why didn't my alcoholic parents teach me to drink?! I am not sure how I am going to survive this sober.

on the night stand :: The Way We Work by David Macaulay

that is what it is all about

2008-12-16T22:15:00.000-08:00

Four days to go! Made more progress, but probably still not enough where I won't be freaking out Friday night and yelling. At one point I went and crawled under the covers. That's when it hit me - I haven't seen, spoken, heard, touched, hugged, smelled, or felt my Mom in nearly ten years. That took a few minutes to recover from.

Yet here I am driving myself crazy, trying to get this house (that isn't mine) ready for the arrival of B's family. Today I spent the day washing the sheets and blankets while putting away things so that there isn't anything on any surface in this house. I also went out to Target and tried to find a replacement bulb for the one I broke. No luck. Came home with another string of lights, which turn out use less energy, but also are smaller than the other strands I bought. I put them on anyway. Somehow I spent $75 so I could use a coupon I had for $5 off. I feel like such a sucker.

I think part of what is going on with me is that I am becoming one of those people who dreads the holidays. There are all these messages telling us that the holidays are a time to spend with your family. Well, what do you do when you don't have a family? Feel like a total loser.

It doesn't help that watching B's family interact (or lack thereof) with one another makes me want to scream. The last time they were here, they couldn't get it together to come to the table at the same time and share a meal. It made me want to smash something (typically my head into a wall). The worst was when they asked me to make dinner for them, and then wouldn't eat with us.

B's sister, who is only a year younger than B, seems to regress to a teenager with serious emo issues when she is here. If she isn't off with her parents, then she is in her room. B has tried invited her out with us, but she turns him down. She doesn't drive when she is here, so that does make her a bit of a hostage. There really isn't much within walking distance of interest from the house. I feel for her, but am at a loss. It also tears me to bits to watch, having lost my sister.

B's other sister, also younger, will be added into the mix this time around, along with her husband. Last time we saw them was at B's graduation. It was pretty clear his sister didn't want to be there. She wore jeans and a zipper down fleece. When B introduced her around, people didn't believe she also had an MBA from a top ten school, and worked for one of the most prestigious firms on Wall Street. Again, truly bizarre behavior. I almost asked her if the airlines lost her luggage, because that was the only explanation that made any sense.

And as if all of that is not interesting enough, B's almost 5-year old nephew will be joining us too. His not quite 2-year old brother, will not. I don't know why beyond the fact that he is with his paternal grandparents, 6000 miles away. We originally thought the reason for this trip was to reunite the child with his parents (being brought back by his maternal grandparents), but we guessed wrong.

In other news, B asked about Christmas dinner, and got a reply from his mother. Apparently she is busy doing stuff that needs to be done before they leave, and hadn't really given it much thought. She said that she would like to have it here and that perhaps her brother and his family would join us. Of course she didn't say if she wanted to have said dinner on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. She also left the menu up to us.

It is a start. But B couldn't get ahold of his Uncle today to see what his plans were. We were thinking of doing it Christmas Eve so that we could do what we usually do on Christmas - go to the movies and eat Chinese food.

So how do I keep it together when all I will probably want to do is go somewhere and cry? And when will I find time to clean the oven, finish the Christmas cards, and wash all the linens?

on the night stand :: Paper Towns by John Green

five days to go

2008-12-15T18:48:00.000-08:00

Now would NOT be a good time for a panic attack, but I feel panicking. B found hooks for the ornaments at K-Mart - from the Martha Stewart collection no less. Two packs for a buck. Simple and in two sizes. Of course while he was out, I decided to move the string of lights around. In the process a red one got smashed. I cleaned up the glass, but now need to find a replacement bulb if I want to light the extra lights. Ugh!! Why didn't I buy replacements when I was out last night?! I feel so stupid, and like I am seriously losing this game.

The laundry has caught up to me as well. I thought this would be a week to do the sheets, but forgot we brought back two bags of laundry from San Diego. The real issue is the rain. The house feels damp, meaning the clothes that I line dry will take twice as long.

Meanwhile, I still have not gotten the kitchen entirely under control. We really just need to stop eating. I think it is in better shape than I give myself credit for, but there is still work to be done. Remember, every surface of every counter must be empty, or the things on it will get moved into places I would never even think of looking.

I am not sure if I should focus on a room until it is done, or go about in the way that I have been. The scary part of the way I have been going is that it looks like nothing will ever get done, and I get a bit freaked out. It is still doable. I know I can get everything done. I just need to focus and be like a Nike commercial and Do it!

on the night stand :: Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst

it is beginning to look like christmas

2008-12-14T22:23:00.000-08:00

We got a tree today! This is a huge deal. Aside from an ornament tree, in the 20 years we have known each other, this is our first tree. It is 6.5 feet tall, artificial and pre-lit. We got the floor model, half price, at Lowe's. It has a bit of Charlie Brown flair to it.

Growing up, once we moved to California, it was rare that we had a Christmas tree. This broke my heart in ways I can't explain. My paternal grandmother loved Christmas. She has a 9' tall tree in her living room. She often left it up until Easter. She had boxes of ornaments and a little village that went around the bottom of the tree.

One year my Mom's on and off live-in boyfriend, affectionately known as Bozo, decided we could get a tree. I think this may have been because the previous year, I managed to get a tree on my own. Our classroom had a tree, and I asked if I could have it when I realized it would just be tossed before we left for the holiday break. I even convinced the mother who had donated it to drive it to our house.

Bozo decided the tree we got should be real, and we should chop it down ourselves. I decided I wanted the "perfect" tree, and we went to three Christmas tree farms before I was coerced into agreeing I had indeed found the "perfect" tree. Then my sister and I each took a handle of the saw and tried to cut it down, sawing back and forth. Honestly, I was lucky Bozo didn't take an axe to me. We didn't have the strength to actually complete the tree cutting, and in the end, he had to step in. We got it home, but didn't have any decorations.

We did get him to agree to buy three strands of lights. It really wasn't enough. And I don't remember what else we found to put on the tree, but it was perfect.

Now all I need to do is find ornament hooks. Didn't they used to sell these at the check out aisles? Now it is all gift cards and candy. Witnessed a woman buy over $1000 worth of gift cards at the grocery store tonight. She said she was giving them as presents at a party she was having.

on the night stand :: The Lump of Coal by Lemony Snicket

one week to go

2008-12-13T20:00:00.000-08:00

A week from now, the insanity officially begins. We spent the last two days in San Diego. Work commitments gave us the opportunity to get away. Unfortunately we ended up in a room next to some serious partying. They didn't call it a night until the wee hours of the morning. I almost called the front desk around 1am, but feared that might escalate things. It was a bit of a bummer. It is a nice hotel.

Overall though we had a good time. Practically had the hotel restaurant to ourselves on Thursday night. Loved that they served tea from Forte. It also showed up on our breakfast tray.

I made some progress on the holiday cards. Made a list. Got most addressed. Still need to look up a bunch of addresses though. I forgot how much work this is. I complain, but I truly do love sending these cards.

Another highlight of the short trip was finally getting to meet a friend's baby girl. She is now 7 months old, and born exactly a year after another friend's son. The last time we were in town we were at the baby shower! San Diego really isn't that far from Los Angeles.

Per usual, we overpacked. We had computers and library books. The staff helped us out with our stuff. In the confusion, the bag with the cows got put in the trunk! I had driven about a mile when I realized they were not in the back seat. I pulled the car over to a yellow zone, and B got out, stepping in a puddle, and moved them. Yes, we really did.

on the night stand :: The Story of a Marriage