Commenting

You people need to comment more, or I will be forced to upload a pic of my boobies on here. That post got more responses than half my other stuff from this month combined! I find that sad really, LOL.

Purrrrrrrr....A little Puss* Anyone?

I like to slip into something fairly comfortable for blogging. ;)

I hope Harvey approves of my "professional model"...The thing is she is not very well known because she is a furry who does private modeling of lingerie for submissive men. (Is that a good enough lie? errrr..background to get into the illustrious Carnival of Pajamas?)

*Puss is swedish for "kiss"

The Passion of the Christ

Well, I FINALLY got to watch the movie. It was rather good, I was highly impressed. I went back to the main menu after the credits and found a lil something interesting where you can make your language selection preference. It offered a choice for having a the movie narrated for the visually impaired. Soooo, I went back to the Jesus beat down scene with the Romans and had to turn it off after about 3 minutes because I was laughing so hard. Whenever the narrator mentioned the "flaggalents" it sounded like he was saying "flatulence". I was able to hold in the laughter (barely) until he said..and I quote: "The grinning, thick-jawed flaggalent". Hmmmmm, am I gonna go to hell for that one?

Presidential Debate

Well, a Presidential Debate has never been so fun as it was last night. After an impromptu stop by a friend's house on the way back from the bank we wound up chatting and insulting each other until almost 8pm. Then the convo turned into:

Him: Hey, let's turn the debate into a drinking game. Me: Ok Him: How about whenever Bush says "terra" (or terrarism) and "nucular" instead of nuclear, and when Kerry says "I have a plan" or makes any mention of his personal history with the military we take a drink. I have some rum. Me: Ok

Well, within 5 minutes we were set up to drink. Here is the play by play of the evening:

• 8:15 - he was drunk.
• 8:40 - we couldn't hear a thing that was going on because we kept arguing and calling Kerry a fucker.
• 9:10 - he was puking.
• 9:20 - his wife started getting belligerant about "being fine". After collapsing onto the couch - and seeming to slip into a waking coma - we had to help her to the bathroom.

Too bad the next one is on a Wednesday. I can't wait for the next election!

Prepping for Trail of History

I've decided to be a good girl and not wait until the last minute to get ready for trail - except for the pies. I am a complete idiot on two respects - as far as forgetting about some things I had which would have made Belvidere's rendezvous a bit nicer.

• I have a food dehydrator and;
• I have a box to store my little items in.

Ok, this might not sound particularly impressive to most other people. But, today I am drying apples, oranges, peaches, and bananas and this weekend I will begin the process of making veritable craploads of beef jerky. The last time I made jerky in this thing it was gone before it had even gotten significantly cooled off. Darn, I just remembered I was going to make raisins too. The last batch I made were so moist and sweet they made the stuff you buy at the store taste like cardboard in comparison. The box will definately be nice because I now won't have to carry around plastic bags from the car. I can just load all of the little things into the box and make one laborious trip instead of rendezvous over a year ago. I haven't even used it yet. I still hope I can find it. Despite my lack of funds I am definately looking forward to Trail. I am thinking of making some porcupine quill earrings to see if I can sell as a blanket trade. If any of them sold it might provide me with "real" food throughout the weekend and maybe cover part of my gas - all I can say is thank GOD for group meals and the fact I already have 3 cans of pumpkin in the house. The earrings take all of 5-10 minutes to make. And I figure $5 a set isn't that bad, except the part that goes into the ear is nickel not surgical steel. *sigh*

The Reason I Watch Movies at 3am

Well, The Passion of the Christ SEEMED like a good movie - the whole 38 minutes of it I sort of got to see. Unfortunately, my grandfather came in to read mail and proceeded to ask me questions. Then, my grandmother realized what I was watching and sat her happy ass down. The next 18 minutes consisted of papers rattling, asinine conversations, and complaining that the movie wasn't in english. The movie is still playing, but I'm sitting here, bitching about it. I guess I'll have to wait until 3am - which sort of sucks because I have to turn my home theater system speakers down low and I think that ruins the experience. Hmmmmm...better plan: Watch the damned thing this weekend when they go out of town. WOOHOO, they are going out of town!!!! I'm going to have a celebratory drink right now...*in the voice of Quagmire from Family Guy* quaffin' chambord...ohhh yeaaaaah.

But Wait..there's More

Since I have been getting all kinds of flack for unleashing that internet crack version of dancing lions and tigers and Kenyas pissing on Norways upon the world. I bring to you....(drumroll please)...THE LIVE VERSION

Speaking of Movies

I have been waiting for this one since Spring.

Shaun of the Dead

Anything considered: "A Romantic Comedy. With Zombies" definately receives curiosity points in my book.

A Letter to Ashton Kutcher

Dear Ashton, I apologize for all of the typecasting and stereotyping I did of you. I mentally placed you under the heading of "idiot...fucking non-acting retard bastard" and it was wrongful and hateful of me to form this opinion. Especially, due to recent enlightenments, I have been fortunate enough to come across The Butterfly Effect. In my humble opinion you gave a stunning performance in an original movie which I, for one, found to be enough to cause a public apology for the things I have said and thought about you. Of course, you are likely not to give a rat's ass about it, but it still makes me feel better to publicly state that: You are not a fucktard; and your dramatic debut was, quite honestly, very refreshing. Sincerely, Me

What attracted you to the script? Ashton: I thought that it was kind of a fantastic metaphor for life, and pretty enlightening. I also spoke with the directors before I decided to sign on. And they had a really clear, concise vision of what they wanted to do stylistically, and what they wanted from the story. And the opportunity to play a character that’s blind to the trauma that takes place in his life. The violence in the movie I thought was a fantastic metaphor for how blind we are as a society, and as a people, to the things that actually do happen on a day to day basis, and how we kind of just block them out. And whether it be through our media or whatever, we go “Oh, it’s not happening in my world, so it’s not happening.” In the movie there’s a great representation of the violence with the kids, and the pedophilia, and these kind of things that the guys could have taken the easy road, and you know, kind of squeamishly cut around, but they weren’t afraid of it.

Read More of this interview.

Rejection Letter

I got it today via email. They even TITLED it rejection letter. I was two days off the mark in when I would receive it. Good thing I didn't place a bet. LOL. Well, I give up.

Fucktard of the Week

This one is HOT off of the presses. Just received mere moments ago.

airborne909: hello, i am male, 25 from germany. i am playing truth or dare online and now, it´s my dare to get my dick judged by 10 ladies on a scale from 1 to 10. don´t want to offend u. so if u would like to help me with this dare, pls PM me. that would be really nice. thanks, bye and have fun. take care.

Soundtrack of Your Life

Got this from Graumagus's blog: "If you had to pick 15 songs (and only fifteen) to be on the soundtrack of your life, what would they be, and why?" Well, here is my soundtrack.

1. Iris - Googoo Dolls - Because it both sums up how I want someone to feel for me someday and how I generally feel while in relationships (respectively) All I can taste is this moment And all I can breathe is your life and sooner or later it's over I just don't want to miss you tonight And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am 2. Opiate - Tool - because it sort of symbolizes what I feel like after I've found out my decisions were not good ones. Choices always were a problem for you. What you need is someone strong to guide you. Deaf and blind and dumb and born to follow, what you need is someone strong to use you.. like me, like me. 3. Porcelain - Red Hot Chili Peppers - because it quite aptly describes how I am generally feeling of late. Are you wasting away in your skin Are you missing the love of your kin Drifting and floating and fading away 4. Inertia Creeps - Massive Attack - It's a crazy song that makes no sense and is a complete maelstrom of chaos which is in direct conflict with the song title...If you don't get it I can't explain it. It's all about dichotomies. Recollect me darling raise me to your lips Two undernourished egos four rotating hips Hold on to me tightly I'm a sliding scale Can't endure then you can't inhale Clearly Out of body experience interferes And dreams of flying I fit nearly Surrounds me though I get lonely Slowly 5. Cold Cold Heart - Norah Jones - basically sums up a majority of my past relationships, and how I am afraid to be. The more I learn to care for you The more we drift apart Why can't I free your doubtful mind And melt your cold cold heart 6. Always Look on the Bright Side of Life - Monty Python - because I have been singing it all day. It makes me laugh and is very true. Life's a piece of shit, When you look at it. Life's a laugh and death's a joke it's true. You'll see it's all a show. Keep 'em laughing as you go. Just remember that the last laugh is on you. And... Always look on the bright side of life. 7. Love is Blindness - U2 - I am a commitment-phobe...Enough said. Love is clockworks and cold steel Fingers too numb to feel. Squeeze the handle, blow out the candle Love is blindness. 8. The Sweater Song - Weezer - I can't give any explanations for this one. It just makes sense...Like a plea to be understood, acknowledge, allowed to just...BE. I'm me Me be Goddamn I am I can Sing and Here me Know me 9. Everything is Wonderful Now - Everclear - I did this as a kid, and I still do this when things aren't going right. Which might explain why I get so pissed off when people say everything is going to be ok...if you were a prognosticator you'd be rich. So bugger your generic happy, happy crap. Go to my room and I close my eyes I make believe that I have a new life I don't believe you when you say Everything will be wonderful someday 10. California King - Everclear - This is my rage song for when people blatantly think I am inferior because of whatever reason - height, weight, skin color. When people steal my ideas, don't listen to them, or treat me like a complete idiot for no apparent reason other than the fact they can. I know you think you look so special What makes you think you are so special? What makes you think you are unique? I see you smile and I get angry As i watch you go colossal Like a California king ... I will find you in the crowded room I will knock you off your feet I will burn you just like teenage love I will eat you just like meat I will break you into pieces Hold you up for all the world to see What makes you think you're better than me? What makes you think you're better? What makes you think you are complete? What makes you think you are the only one immune to falling down Why can't you see I see you fall and I get happy I will watch you burn like fire I will watch you burn like a California king 11. Friend is a Four Letter Word - Cake - This one is more dealing with my self-esteem issues and the "friend hating" phase I go through at least twice a year. I have great friends, but sometimes feel unappreciated and pretty much think they are fucking bastards. To me, coming from you, Friend is a four letter word. End is the only part of the word That I heard. Call me morbid or absurd. But to me, coming from you, Friend is a four letter word. 12. Fell on Black Days - Soundgarden - I am starting to realize my soundtrack is rather depressing....hmmmm. Whomsoever I've cured I've sickened now Whomsoever I've cradled I've put you down I'm a search light soul They say but I can't See it in the night I'm only faking When I get it right 13. Bitch - By Meridith Brooks - Enough said. So take me as I am this may mean you'll have to be a stronger man rest assured that when I start to get you nervous And I'm going to extremes Tomorrow I will change and today won't mean a thing I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother*, I'm a sinner, I'm a saint, I do not feel ashamed, *I am NOT a mother...unless the voices in my head count. 14. La Vie en Rose - Edith Piaf - Ahhh, but to have nights of love and my troubles and sorrows erased. I fucking love this song. It aroused the passion of bittersweet hope in me even before I spoke a lick of french. Des Nuits D'amour A Plus Finir Un Grand Bonheur Qui Prend Sa Place Les Ennuis, Des Chagrins S'effacent Heureux, Heureux A En Mourir 15. Golden - Jill Scott - Ok, I just heard this song for the first time today, and changed the channel towards the end cause it's not my style, but the lyrics in the beginning are how I want my life to be. And I figure it's a good ending point for my soundtrack. Completely off-base from the other music, and definately upbeat. I'm taking my freedom, Pulling it off the shelf, Putting it on my chain, Wear it around my neck, I'm taking my freedom, Putting it in my car, Wherever I choose to go, It will take me far,

Good lord, this was a long post. My musical selections are weird..and I probably should have thrown in Sir Mixalot's "Baby Got Back" for good measure....shake dat assssss!

Enlightenment

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Forgot about this

I had set up another blog on blogspot to put a bit of my writings. Initially, I began this venture in July but have since long forgotten about it. I have part of another story on there and figure that should suffice for my postings this week. That one is part of 3 separate stories which are to be woven together - if I can find the other two and complete them all. I think I will keep the two sites separate and put the creative writing entirely on that site. That basically means that I will turn the vampire type story into a short story, except I completely forgot the concept behind the ending so I will have to make something else up. If you feel so inclined, please feel free to check out my other site: Natural Progression

Maaaaan!

Why the hell didn't they have these when I was a kid? I would have been much more likely to play with dolls. Instead, I hung boys from trees and jumped off the balcony into snowdrifts.

N.C. Woman Sells Naughty Barbie Dolls Plastic dolls line four long shelves in Baker's store, called Annie B and the Black and White Guy. There's a cross-dressing male doll with long hot pink hair and a tight miniskirt. A "Jailbait Barbie" stands behind bars, wearing a pink and white striped uniform and an identification number. An eight-legged black widow doll crawls up a spider web, with Ken wrapped in her webbing. "She's a man-eater," the sign says. In a scenario that has its parallel in real life, Baker finds down-on-their-luck Barbies -- at thrift stores and from friends -- then introduces them to a world of sex, drugs and violence.

Talk about hours of endless entertainment!

Damnit

Seems I did lose my comments after all. Which is weird because they WERE here when I posted the way to find them...how quaint.

Rejection Letter

I haven't checked my mail for today. Wonder if my rejection letter from the company I interviewed with last week has come in yet...Hmmmmm...I figured Today or Tuesday. They were supposed to make a decision at the end of last week.*sigh*

My Hair

My hair is a fuzzy mass that is a combination between a rat's nest and ringlet curls. My friends seem amazed when I pull the kinky curls out to their full length - thereby almost tripling the length that they THINK my hair is (or at least doubling it). Seems it's gotten to be mid-back, so I might give it a straightening. I'm starting to think people assume that because I don't straighten my hair I am trying to follow some fashion trend. That is not necessarily the case. My issue is more that I don't want to go the chemical route and have the issues that my biological mother has where hers won't grow more than a few inches, and she gets bald patches. I am TIRED of paying $65-70 a month to get my hair chemically straightened. It leaves scabs on my scalp, and takes about the same amount of time for me to straighten the chemically straightened hair after I wash it as it does when "natural". Between the length of time it takes for styling it ALSO means I get to pay for the priveledge of having pretty damned unruly, burnt, damaged hair. Even when I just use the flat iron (which gives me darned similar results as far as a perm goes) there is some damage caused to my hair. have never since been able to attain because of the chemical torment placed upon it: down to my ass. About 3 years ago, I cut my hair and almost got disowned...well...here we go with what is becoming my catch-phrase "a little backstory":

After basically ignoring my hair for a few months I had to give a presentation for one of my college computer courses. We were supposed to be professional, and I figured it was time to straighten my hair. My grandmother saw my hair and was amazed "I didn't know your hair was so long..It's so beautiful". (My hair was about 3-4 inches past my bra strap at that point.) I said "Oh...cool". Took a shower, and promptly hacked my hair down to about 2 inches. I was sporting a TWA (Tiny Weeny Afro). I LOVED it for a time. It was too short to pull back, so I found the joys of wetting my hair in the shower, shaking like a dog and dabbing leave-in-conditioner on it. I had a mass of ringlet curls and it no longer took me 3-4 hours to do my hair. When it got longer, I could put little twists in my hair, and get cool textures with little effort. There was a HELL of a payoff for taking the switch...my hair wasn't brittle and never seeming to grow. The thickness of my hair was an asset, not a hindrance to hairstyles. (I got charged extra because of length and thickness when I went to the hairstylist; and more than one had gotten 1st degree burns handling my hair due to retained heat.) Anyway, I digress. My grandmother had a birthday two days later and she would hardly talk to me. About all she mentioned where I was remotely involved as a person was "You should have seen her hair, it was so long and pretty, then she CUT it all off." Every time I wore my hair natural in the house without some kind of covering for the next year, my grandfather would comment "what's wrong with your hair?" Where everyone else was commenting that it was kind of cool (mostly caucasian), my own black relatives were acting like I was a pariah...WTF? It wasn't until this time that I came to realize the importance of hair in the black community. Previously, I had been getting those braided extensions (mostly for fullness because my hair was pretty darned long) and I would get compliments "Ohhh, ahhh, pretty" kind of crap. It always seemed sort of creepy to me...Having synthetic hair on your head...*shudders*. But, having long, shiny, STRAIGHT locks are/were of great import to the earlier generations. Some called if "whitification"...I called it stupid. It's hair, and this was well before "The Swan" and "Extreme Makeover". I didn't consider my going natural to be an embracing of my roots or of acceptance. I just figured it was a moneysaver and a HUGE convenience. (It was also nice that most of my relatives were jealous of my hair texture...I guess the ringlet curl affect my hair naturally has isn't that normal on my maternal side.)

OK...I'm sure you've heard enough about my hair. It was just something I was sort of ruminating over for a brief period of time because I came to the realization today that my grandparents at least have accepted my hair...and the fact that I think I am going to straighten it today (or at least get a new hairstyle). My hair has been the topic of at least 3 separate conversations in the past two weeks....better than my bumpies, eh?

My Dream this Morning

I hate my dreams. They are weird. I much prefer when I go to bed, wake up, and there is a complete blankness in between. Whenever I tell people about my dreams they look at me like I'm nuts...well I'm going to give you the opportunity to tell me if this is normal. I actually remember parts of a dream I had last night. I was sort of pissed because my alarm clock went off in the middle of a sex dream...Those are few and far between - I don't tend to turn into a nympho and think of sex 24/7 unless I'm PMS'ing or in a relationship. Anyway, I turned the alarm clock off and went back to sleep. I can't remember the very beginning of the dream, but I was cuddling with Ron Jeremy on a big black leather coach watching his digital cable (he had the remote). We were trying to decide what to tape with his TIVO when someone came to the door bearing a letter for me. It seemed my sister had been murdered. Well, Ron Jeremy was nice enough to accompany me to try to find her murderer so we loaded up into his baby blue Volvo (the most inconspicuous car in his collection) and went off to find the address - despite the fact we all lived in the same town, there must have been some falling out between my sister and I because I had NO idea where the hell she lived, or what the house looked like. Well, we went down the road looking for the address. Where the house was supposed to be there was a cemetary, and Ron and I got out of the car and walked into it. This is where things get a bit fuzzy for me and a bit weird. We kept walking and made it to this large clearing with a tree stump, a pool of water and a statue, along with 3 other people just sort of standing there. At first I thought they were zombies until one screamed "Look out" and this HUUUUGE oak tree dissected itself horizontally and a wooden round popped out and started attacking us. The three other people used guns to try to shoot it, but it wasn't working. Ron screamed at me to use my hands...I looked at him blankly and he showed me that if I raised my hands, palms displayed toward the object attacking me, green lasers would come out and destroy it....Well..my aim sucked ASS....the guys with the guns wound up shooting it. Well, then more of the rounds of wood came out and some other things started attacking us too...it was a little thing that was from some video game or other and was easily dispatched of. After we killed the tree, a bird flew towards us and everyone gasped. Someone said "It's the blue bird of ...."(can't remember..it was very specific) and we all watched it as it landed on the stump (not the stump from the tree we just killed...for some reason there seemed to be of great significance at the time). I remembered that I had my digital camera, so I tried taking a picture of the bird. For some reason there was no color and a man's head came up. I realized that if I spun the dial where you choose your camera settings that it would play a movie. So, I watched some brown and grey bum pull the weirdest gun I have ever seen in my life and point it at me. For some reason I figured out that if I spun the dial any longer my head would get blown off. The bird disappeared and the man appeared and told me that my sister was not killed but was the keeper of the dead and I could have all of her possessions because I defeated the killer tree. I then asked him if my head would have actually been blown off if I had kept turning the dial. He said yes...and the dream ended. Well, this one wasn't all that WEIRD..not like the one were we had to put the babies on top of the fabric we used to sew footballs for the school..There were these HUUUUGe ladders, and it was really hard to carry the babies up and stick them in the lockers...and all of the fabric was paisley...There was a lot more than that, but the guy I was dating at the time told me my dreams were sort of fucked up.

My bumpies

I was just thinking about how little time I have to make another corset and bodice for Trail (our Rendezvous at the end of this month), and it reminded me of the fact that my breasts have been the topic of conversation WAY more than I feel comfortable in the past week or two. Backstory:

Last weekend at the Belvidere rendezvous I took off my jacket because it was riding up and doing odd things, and just wore my corset and chemise (with a red velvet cloak on top). That was the turning point from being innocuous, to being the topic of concern and conversation for quite awhile. The public were walking down the pathways, men were turning their heads to look while they walked, I noticed one lady look at them - her eyes widened and she yanked her husband/boyfriend and altered course. That wasn't the worst part. The absolutely humiliating bit was the fact everyone in my group was giving me helpful pointers "Ummmm, you might need to tuck those in"....Well, I couldn't tuck them in. They were less than halfway out. APPARENTLY, what happened was that my breasts are sooooo ginormous *snicker* that the mounded globes of flesh spilling forth from the tightly bound corset resembled what most people considered as "bumpies about to show nipple...or break for freedom"....Well, MY bumpies were quite secure and weren't going much of anywhere. The only problem I had was that I couldn't bend over or bend my neck without nestling my chin in my downy soft cleavage.

Maybe I am retarded, or just don't stare at them enough...But, I never thought that they were that big. Seriously! And I have never quite been so embarrassed before. Hell, the reason I GAINED weight was so that no one would stare at me or objectify me as a wet hole with a nice rack. It got REALLY creepy when one particular guy stopped by to visit with a friend...I'm not really friends with this person, it's more a mutual congeniality because we have the same set of friends and have known them for awhile (I've known his friends for at least 10 years). Anyway, he kept LOOKING at them...I felt really dirty and creeped out. I couldn't even look at him for awhile yesterday because of that...*shudder* I pretty much ignored him unless someone else was out there with us. Well, the other day, I have no idea how the topic came into play (I don't THINK it was me that brought it up), but..my boobs were mentioned again. Whenever this occurs I try to laugh it off..and thank GOD I am black so I don't turn all kinds of shades of red from the infernal blushing I know is going on undetected. I have approximately 1 week to figure out what I am going to do...Find some way to cover them up, or go with the booby-sporting bodice look. It may seem pathetic to be so weirded out by this (large deposits of adipose tissue doesn't sound nearly as sexy as voluptuous breasts), but for the most part I keep everything covered except for my collarbones and up, and elbows to fingertips at ALL times. So, to have people commenting on my bumpies is reaaaaaaally making me horribly self-conscious. Maybe I can force myself to believe some lie about the men admiring the fabric and fine seaming of the corset, or psych myself back into my prior state of ignorance about my breast-size. Or maybe, I will wear that damned corset, and have someone take pics of me in sexy poses, and start my own website....I DO need money. Or I could just do this.

MMmmmm, cookies

Ok, well this post has nothing to do with cookies at all. I just had a picture of the Cookie Monster in my head and figured that would be as good a title as any. Actually, this post has to deal with me becoming a collosal beast of a woman if I continue to cook things and be the predominate eater of crap - oh yeah, and maybe considering a profession change. (Do the unemployed HAVE profession changes when they've just graduated from college and don't even have a profession???) Last Thursday, as I lay on the thinly matted table being massaged by the gentle electricity of a T.E.N's unit that is plugged into the wall (aka physical therapy), I had an idea: Apple bread with caramel chunks in it. Hmmm, that should be interesting. I even decided how I would roll it up. Every detail was run over in my head except for a few items. I am not the best baker from scratch because I cannot figure out the baking powder/baking soda ratio to flour for proper rise with or without acidity. Well, what I tend to do is find a recipe fairly similar to what I want, and adapt it. It works well and I retain the originality and interactivity in the creative process of my food product. I am OBSESSED with food. I love to cook it, to create, to feed it to other people and enjoy their expressions of delight. I've been through all of this before. I could probably just go through my archives and post a link...but I am much too lazy for that. At any rate...the bread. I went to visit LittleJoe - I got a tour of the new house and got to cuddle with their adorable little kitten whose name I cannot remember to save my life. When I got home I remembered that the next day was Nerd Day and that I was going to make Cream Puffs. But, since I am broke I couldn't manage to purchase the ingredients. So, I decided to try the bread. I altered a bread recipe that I had for these KILLER cinnamon rolls and proceeded to make the caramel, and dice the apples. After the dough was done, I set about the rather involving process of getting the three ingredients together. Well, There were a few minor mishaps (don't worry guys, nothing fell on the floor or got sneezed into or anything), but after 5 hours...all in all, it was a proud accomplishment - and DAMNED tasty to boot. LittleJoe actually mentioned it being an item I should consider selling. Considering the strict guidelines for selling foodstuffs, and my not knowing HOW to sell it, I am not sure if that will ever happen. But, it made me rethink my desire to go to a culinary school and become a chef. I am mostly afraid of the fact that I ENJOY cooking, and turning something I enjoy immensely into work might dampen the joy slightly. I doubt I would be like those people on FoodTV who are constantly gallavanting about joyously creating or sampling other people's foods. There is a hell of a lot of work that goes into the craft...and I am inherently lazy and have issues with follow-through once I get bored. But, I guess the main reason I am considering it is the fact I am so damned broke; and that is something I do fairly well- cook. Unless my friends are continually lying to me about my creations (except for cooking at Grau's house..nothing I ever try there turns out right.) Well, I guess that this long post amounts to this..I would love to be the "Caramel Apple Bread" lady, but I don't think it's particularly feasible. If it ever BECAME feasible, I would definately try it out for a bit. But, in the meantime, I will just cook for my friends (not family), because I enjoy the appreciative moans of ecstasy, the offers to pay for ingredients when I cannot afford them, friends who are more than happy to let me come over and show them how to make gnocche, or roast a chicken, and the hysterical "get this the hell away from me" from a friend who is on Atkins and feared he would eat the entire serving after his initial taste.

WOOHOO

Didn't lose comments after all. You have to click on the link...link. The old comments are listed there.

Updating

Thanks to Harvey I have changed the feedback section on my site. Unfortunately, the result is that all items not currently being archived have lost all comments. Sorry boys and girls, but, quite frankly the Blogger posting feature was driving me insane and I figure this is a small price to pay for a more reliable way to post. I also have to figure out why my blog shows up fine in 3 different browsers but looks like complete shit in Netscape. That might be a long time coming considering the lack of free time I have on my hands being currently unemployed... Speaking of hands, I can't feel mine. It's freezing outside and I think the friggin' air conditioner is on.