OMFG FOOD

May's Theme is Nourish for NaBloPoMo, which translates to prompts about food.

I am so fucking excited!!

 

Thursday, May 1, 2014
Tell us how you eat: do you sit down to three meals, eat several small meals, or grab a granola bar on the run?
Friday, May 2, 2014
Tell us how you wish you ate if it's different from your day-to-day reality.
Monday, May 5, 2014
Would you ever want a personal chef, or do you enjoy cooking your own meals?
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Have you ever invented your own recipe? Tell us about it (or your favourite one).
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Do you follow recipes to a T, or do you play around with recipes, making adjustments?
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Tell us about your favourite cookbook.
Friday, May 9, 2014
If you could have dinner with one celebrity chef whom would it be?
Monday, May 12, 2014
How do you balance good nutrition and good taste?
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
How often do you eat foods that you know are bad for your body?
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
What makes you eat something unhealthy?
Thursday, May 15, 2014
How often do you eat a meal from a restaurant? How do you decide when to cook or when to eat out?
Friday, May 16, 2014
Tell us about your favourite restaurant.
Monday, May 19, 2014
What do you do to nourish yourself apart from food?
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Have you ever tried yoga or meditation? Tell us about your experience.
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Do you feel nourished or drained by the act of writing?
Thursday, May 22, 2014
What do you do to nourish your soul when you feel emotionally depleted?
Friday, May 23, 2014
Do you like attending religious services?
Monday, May 26, 2014
Tell us your favourite summer food.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Do you prefer eating outside or inside?
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Which food makes you feel happy when you eat it?
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Which food do you eat but only endure and not enjoy?
Friday, May 30, 2014
Would you feel nervous or confident cooking dinner for a professional chef?

Hide Your Chonies!

Fun fact: Husband snores like those lumberjack cartoon characters. I am not exaggerating, and may actually provide video of that some day. 

Fun fact: I sleepwalk. I also flip a lot during my limited sleep, and sometimes still have waking nightmares. 

Mix those things together, and it gets pretty difficult to sleep well in the same bed. 

I preface this post with all that because inevitably if I jump right in, someone will assume we have "issues," and I just don't need that kind of mentality circulating the rumor mill. 

Husband sleeps on a couch, which currently is in the living room. I'm not too fond of the set up, what with a relatively public, central part of the house being used in a semi-private capacity. 

So this last weekend, I enacted step two of my plan to cordon off the living room a little more. (Step one was drapes dividing the living room from the Dungeon)

I put in some bifolds between the dining room and living room, hoping it would help dial down the visual chaos for me while adding some privacy for Husband. 

Since I put a bifold on the coat-closet-turned-doggy-station, I figured this time around would go a lot smoother. 

Admittedly this was half true, as I applied my tape method for screwing in the slide tracks, and the other mounting hardware went in quickly too. 

I ran into major snags when I tried to be the Hulk again and power through loading the doors in. 

Lots of curse words were had. Eventually Husband took pity on me and helped. 

Aren't they pretty?

I grabbed some oil rubbed bronze knobs to jazz it up a little, and plan to paint the hardware to match. 

The doors got a slapped up in a bit of a rush as I was expecting toddler-like people at the house. Toddlers and power tools don't mix; just take my word for it. 

An unexpected bonus is the added privacy to my bedroom. 

 

That doorway used to view straight through to the front door, which meant if I was having an undies day, the poor UPS guy was gonna see everything. 

Now, even with the bifolds open, I have some privacy too. 

This is the view from the front door towards my bedroom. 

Situation: Critical

When it comes to crises, my level of calm is highly situational.

If we're talking walls collapsing, apocalyptic crisis, I'm all about what the next step is. One of my trainers in the medical field called me a steamroller - I just keep plowing through.

 

Small crises however, like unexpected home repairs and visiting family, and I'm a crumpled mess. I have no idea why. I can only guess some of it comes from childhood conditioning, like my parents' anxiety about visits during/after some divorces in the family. That sort of stuff is never easy for anyone, and that's just the way I observed it as a kid. Luckily as an adult I can look at it and see that everything is okay now, but that habit of being tense before get-togethers is hard to break.

Some of my anxiety is just anxiety as a disorder, which again usually rears it's ugly head over the small stuff since I often shove my feelings aside to handle the more "emergency" stuff. And look at that! I answered my own question!

Videos That Make Me Feel Better

While we all know snuggles are the cure for my moody blues, sometimes even Sam and my improvised cuddle zones are insufficient. Thus, I turn to my giggle-inducing collection on the internet.

"That cake was my most bestest creation."

 

"He's an innocent doll!!"

You'll only appreciate this one if you've seen the first two seasons of Vampire Diaries.

"At least I never kissed Johnny Schatzman."

"Dammit, Jubilee!!"

Just Messing With Husband

YOU CANNOT CAPTURE THIS KITTY TONGUE

Don't Cherry Pick Comments!

In the same breath as I explain which comments I will delete, I think people should not prune their comment section by only keeping positive comments and deleting the critical ones.

I'm not advocating leaving up hate speech, but if someone came on here and said, "I disagree with you, and this is why," or even, "You're wrong, and this is why," I would welcome it!
I want discussion on here, with informed opinions and factual exchanges. I know that's asking a lot of the internet, but I can dream.

I also don't think it's fair to chop comments that point out inconsistencies or potential hypocrisies. As long as said commentary is information based, I see no reason to remove it.


BRING IT ON.

Not Much Censorship

The only time I will delete comments is if they are of a hateful or violent nature; this is typically because it doesn't contribute to discussion, and frankly trolls are unwelcome.

I think I've pruned a handful now that either fit that criteria or were potential "triggers" for any of you nice people. I want this place to be safe for discussion and discourse, especially for sensitive subjects.

You'll find increasing posts on sexuality, which is an incredibly broad subject, encompassing a myriad of content. I know it's an emotionally charged area to explore, but I'm finding more and more that this means it should be handled.

Don't worry, I'm still bringing the funny.

Beeswax

"When problems brew on the Internet, do you stay quiet or rush to defend the person at the center of the situation?"

This is hugely a case-by-case type of question, since problems brew on the internet for various reasons.

I'd also like to point out that more often than not, especially on Facebook, I definitely fall into the Bystander Effect.

However...

Is it something I'm well informed on?
My nose is all up in that business.


Are there threats being made?
If I feel it's my place to step in, I'll back up the "victim."


Can I help resolve the issue?
I'll probably say something.


Am I just witnessing an argument between people?
Popcorn it is.

Have you ever intervened on an internet dispute?
How did that turn out?

Cheating Kind Of

Okay it's show and tell time!

I know you've seen some juicy gossip unfold on your newsfeed, and I also know my fellow busybodies want to see it. Yes, I am advocating cackling hens for a day.

Go ahead and link a screenshot in the comments while I make some popcorn...

Dis Ma Sam

A day or two after returning from our lengthy trip across the southern border, something strange happened.

A little hobo waltzed up onto our porch.

A Designer Hobo

He was super friendly, so I kept him in the front yard with some fresh water, debating calling an animal rescue. That's when my neighbor came and explained that they had found him in the buttes, no doubt abandoned there, and had already taken him in to check for a locator chip (doggy lowjack) and to make sure he didn't carry anything that could harm our collective pack of shepherds.
They were already at the limit with three rescued sheps of their own, and this little cockapoo didn't take kindly to their cats anyway. I brought him inside and joked to Husband, "He followed me home; can I keep him?"

He actually said yes!!

Babushka

A few baths and trips to the vet later, and you'd think this little boy had lived here all along.

We decided to name him Sam, after the hobbit, since he's so tiny compared to our behemoth sheps. When he's in trouble, it takes everything in me not to laugh when I yell his full name. I mean come on, who can keep a straight face shouting "Samwise Gamgee" across the house? That's why when he's in deep trouble (all one time so far) he gets called Samuel L. Jackson, cause he's a bad motherfucker.

Mentally, I'm pretty sure Sam is the equivalent to a four year old, minus the ability to talk. He's very smart and curious, but at the same time can be very mischievous.I often had to correct him twice when teaching him the rules of the house, as he'd try once when I was looking and once when I wasn't. I seem to have fallen victim to the "Grandmother's Curse" even without growing my own offspring.
Luckily for the most part he's a very well behaved critter. He was already potty trained, and had some degree of manners before we started to straighten him out.

Much like a toddler, he thinks anything I'm doing/using/having is supposed to be shared with him, and he is pretty much the Jedi master of super-cute beggar's face.

"Gee, that looks really good. Did you notice I'm being a good boy?"

He likes to watch movies with us, pretending to be people. The only issue is, he seems to think it's real, so if there's a doorbell he checks the front door, and if there's gunshots he has to come protect me from it.

He also knows when to cry at chick flicks.

Sam is incredibly protective of me. While he doesn't usually bite at anyone he dislikes, he will growl and bark, after which he comes to me for an atta-boy. Dogs are 50/50 between wanting to play with them, but also being ridiculously jealous. He'll sit on my feet if he doesn't want to share, or even try to pull me away.

Only recently has he stepped up guard duty, and that's only been with Husband.

Now he's come to realize for the most part that this is a game, and will actually get excited when Husband and I are hanging out barefoot.

Drunken Baking and Photography

Today, I'm gonna fill you in on my super secret, kind of famous carrot cake recipe.

If you're a cheating whore, or just can't quite pull off baking low-sugar/sugar free like me, you will need this shit as a base. I use this regardless of who is eating them because it's a little less guilt-inducing.

You will also need your cocktail of choice, because it's definitely acceptable to drink and bake.

I used some leftover baby carrots I had laying around, but you can use standard sized, canned, or even baby food as your carrots as long as you're not an idiot and overfill your food processor.

Once you have your choice of carrot sufficiently chopped up, you're gonna throw in 1/2 cup of brown sugar and cinnamon/nutmeg to your liking. One teaspoon adds a nice taste, whereas one tablespoon will yield a more "spicy" taste.

Then, dump in 1/2 cup of ONE of these - sour cream, buttermilk, cream, milk, yogurt, or pudding. The wet will offset the dryness of the carrot and spices we're adding to the cake mix.

Puree the fuck out of your concoction.

Once the carrot creation is ready, throw everything into a mixing bowl like you would if making the cake by it's directions, dumping your carrots in there too like you don't give a fuck.

I have a badass mixing bowl set with pour-spout, so I just gracefully spooned the batter into my cupcake pans.

Gracefully.

We do cupcakes instead of slicing cake in This Fuckin' House because it's efficient, cleaner, and easier to share.

Bake that shit according to the cheater box, making sure to toothpick check for done-ness so your cakes don't collapse and look sad.

Normally I cheat on the frosting if at all possible because I hate the carpal tunnel required of scratch frosting, since I don't have beaters or a mixer.
I got tired of stopping to take photos, so here's a video on scratch butter cream cheesy frosting. I literally had never done this one before, but it worked out anyway.

Don't forget to enjoy your cocktail, because baking is better drunk.

Guilty As Fuck

Let's talk about something that makes us feel terrible.

I absolutely cannot stand it when I am unable to follow through on a promise. It is incredibly guilt-inducing, even if it's something small like washing the dishes. It's not just that I'm angry at failing, but now someone else is suffering for my shortcoming too.

The most guilty I've ever felt was after my neighbor passed. He had been suffering a long time with many health issues, and when he was still somewhat mobile I would help him with his mini farm. Once things got more serious though, he stopped coming outside with me, and eventually downsized to where he didn't need my help.
I kept promising myself and his wife that I would come over, just to visit with him and possibly make him feel better in his decline.

I never did, and to this day I kick myself in the ass anytime it comes up.

Admittedly, I was scared. I didn't want to see my gruff, hearty, stiff-upper-lip friend in such a fragile state. I had seen the changes in him during the weeks before he became bedridden, and he wasn't the same man anymore. As a teenager, I didn't want to face that.

I obviously can never get that back, but I carry it with me anytime I consider whether or not to see family. I have two relatives now on the more frustrating, sad end of Alzheimer's dementia. Every time I'm offered a chance to visit, it's a struggle to follow through until I remind myself what has happened before.

Appreciate your friends and family, and don't put off memory-making opportunities; they won't always be there.

A Long Relationshit Story

* * *

 

DISCLAIMERS: 

My Coz, I'm still sorry I was that stupid.
Trigger warning - light references to emotional abuse. Don't want anyone to get hurt here.
Husband, you already know this one, you can skip it.

* * *

If any of you nice people think this post is about you, it's not. I'm having a really hard time articulating this story, but I'll do my best to share the meat and potatoes in a truthful and concise manner while still maintaining anonymity to certain parties.

 

I think we've all been in relationships we regret, but at the same time, had we not gone there, would we be the people we are today? I like to believe that despite my colorful dating record, I've grown from each experience into a woman who can manage a mostly healthy relationship. Sometimes. Usually.

Admittedly I'm still a bit immature, and a lot more needy than I'd like to be. Some of that is situational, and the rest I am working on every day with Husband rooting for me.


I can't really say I've ever been in a relationship with someone I shouldn't have. I did get into one that was strongly advised against, and then constantly berated throughout. I was not always the best judge of character, and in my desperation (let's be honest here, I was no hottie back in the day) I grasped at any male attention I got. Boy if I knew what life would be like in my final form...

Anyshoe. So there was a guy, and I was a girl, and there was flirting. He was seeing someone else at the time, but things were shaky, and I was too stupid back then to realize that's a massive red flag.
Ladies, don't wait on a guy who's already with someone, cause if he leaves her for you, what's to stop him from doing that again to you?

My Coz even warned me at the time that getting smoochy with a guy like that was bad news, but my neediness prevailed and I did it anyway. I AM SO SORRY FOR EVER DOUBTING YOU! We all know I learned from that mistake, seeing as she also advised me on Husband, and that time I listened.

Things went well with said Not-So-Nice-Guy (that's his name now) for over a year, bursting with puppy love and rose colored glasses. I thought he was just so perfect and romantic, and gosh how did I ever deserve such a nice guy. He agreed that I was a lucky girl. We did the whole sweethearts thing with "I love yous," promise rings, and plans for a white picket fence. Things didn't get ugly until I got ambitious and he didn't want me leaving to chase my goals.


In retrospect, he was probably as needy as I was for "love," and just as insecure, which is why my badassery eventually thwarted the relationship. I was gonna do whatever the fuck I wanted with my life, and everyone could either keep up or get out of the way.
At this point, Not-So-Nice-Guy started trying to hold me back from my plans; trying to talk me out of things, making me the bad guy, and in a small way I was for being selfish, but in the same breath, manipulation didn't make him a good guy either.

Regardless of the weird gut feeling, mostly produced by My Coz repeatedly saying, "This is bad, you should end it," we tried to stay together long-distance as I took off after my future. Not-So-Nice-Guy continued his antics, berating my decisions and exploiting every struggle I faced in an attempt to convince me to give up and come back. Lots of finger-pointing ensued when things weren't going great on his end either, as Not-So-Nice-Guy adeptly connected every problem in his life to me and my selfish choice to leave him behind.

Life happened, and I found myself back home for reasons unrelated to Not-So-Nice-Guy. Despite the (in retrospect) constant guilt trips in my absence, upon return Not-So-Nice-Guy and I kept on together. I knew I had changed during my time away, but he wasn't ready to accept it, holding on to the old Anna. We argued, a lot, mostly about nothing, but always reduced to shouting and tears. He was convinced I had been brainwashed by my experiences outside of his control, and if I just gave him a chance we'd bring the old, better Anna back.

Things eventually came to a head in a huge misunderstanding, and I called it quits. That was pretty hard for him to accept, in an almost sitcom-like situation where he refused to acknowledge it was over. Again, I was cornered as the bad guy, "How could I do this to him, after all he had endured for me?"

With the steadfastness of friends with entirely too much patience for me, I eventually managed to really end the relationship. Ice cream was had, and to this day I'm still apologizing to My Coz and some other people, letting them dole out the "I told you so"s at will.

Was Not-So-Nice-Guy some evil, archetypal abuser like in the movies? Not really. It was more like mixing ammonia and bleach trying to clean a stain. We were toxic for each other, and using the wrong tools to fix problems within ourselves.

Lies!

I honestly cannot recall ever catching someone in a genuine lie. Maybe that's because everyone who lies to me is awesome at covering their asses, but I like to think it's because the people I surround myself with are just nice, honest people.

I caught Husband in a white lie once, when he was preparing to propose. I had called him from work one day and he had answered inside a jewelery store, sounding nervous. At the time, I didn't know where he was, but I knew something was up. He fessed up after putting a ring on it, and that's the closest I've been to catching a lie.

Husband and I are both straight shooters, and we basically suck at lying, but most especially to each other. For me, it's the guilt. I know I would hate finding out he lied to me, so it kills me to think of ever lying to him. Because that's how love works.

Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have.... NOT

When it comes to lying, my policy is not to do it.
Just don't.

It's a waste of time and effort, and hugely disrespectful.

The closest I come to lying is "big fishing" my stories, which admittedly is a horrible, horrible addiction. I have a hard time sticking to the basic events, especially if some verbal glitter will make the story funny.

I think thus far the tales I have shared here are 100% true, since most of my "big fish" tendencies come out at family gatherings, especially if I can get a sibling to help me jazz things up by corroborating.