Childhood Heroes

For as long as I can remember, Ozzie Smith has been one of my all-time biggest heroes. When I was a child, my favorite day of baseball season was Opening Day, when Ozzie would do his trademark backflip when he took the field. I'm still bitter about the day in middle school that my mother did not let me skip class to meet Ozzie at the sports store he was signing autographs at during school hours. And I still have the piece of paper I did finally get his autograph on at a game the next year. For most of my pre-adolescent and adolescent years, I had a poster of Ozzie hanging above my bed. I collected every card I could find of him, especially one special purchase of his Padres rookie card. And I still have them all. And of course I read his auto-biography! And this is one childhood hero that has not diminished in my mind. One of the coolest things about living in St. Louis now is that the theatre I've been working at is in the same complex as Ozzie's restaurant. And he's there sometimes. I've seen him a couple of times, and I totally got excited the day he said hi to me. Well, today I got to let him into the theatre to look around. And I felt like a giddy little girl again when he looked at me, smiled and said hi. And can I say that he is just the most adorable man ever?

So here's to childhood heroes that remain on their pedestals!

Happiness is

My first summer stage managing at summer stock, one of my shows was You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown. It was a fun show, great experience, taught me a lot, etc, etc. But when I moved away from home, what I remembered most was the silly song Happiness Is. It's the finale of the show, filled with what makes the Peanuts' gang happy. You know, eating an ice cream, catching a firefly, setting it freeeeeee. Anyway, when I moved away from home, and I got scared and depressed, I would write a "Happiness Is" entry in my journal. The only rule was that it had to be something that happened to me or I did in the past few days, because if you're grasping at happiness straws from a couple of weeks ago, then you need to do something to correct that ASAP. I've had a real rough couple of days, so, without further ado, my first Happiness Is blog:

Happiness is...

1. Gordon Ramsey. He has to take his shirt off on camera at least once every episode. Do you think it's written in his contract?

2. Drinking whiskey with a good friend. Even when someone else joins you and you don't get to whine about what you wanted to whine about. Especially when you end up not paying.

3.
Like, seriously? I will keep this episode of Lost on my DVR for as long as I possibly can. Technically, it was 6 days ago that this Sayid-centric episode was delivered to me, but as I watched it again today, it totally gets counted as a Happiness Is for today.



Mmmmm...



4. There is no number 4.

5. Cold Brewed Green Tea. Thank you, Beth.

6. Yummy frozen pizza. Thank you, Kashi.

7. New, seriously comfortable socks. Thank you, Adidas.

8. Someone telling me they love me. Thank you, Beth and my sister.

9. My cat, Suki, who will generally come when called, even when she was comfortable, and will stay put when you pet her.

10. Did I mention
















11. Bacon. Happiness is definitely bacon.

It'll Only Hurt for a Minute

I have been unemployed since December 30th. This is not easy for me, being unemployed. I won't lie to you - I'd love to be independently wealthy and not have to work for a living, but since I'm not, I'd rather be productive than not. My previous unemployment periods have been few and far between and brief, and right now it's even worse, since I'm in a relationship. How can I hold my own in this relationship when I can't pay for nights out, can't ask for nights out because of my guilt for being unable to pay, and can't even pay rent at the moment? Lucky I can cook, or I'd wonder what I'm even offering this relationship right now. My days recently have been filled with pajama wearing, tv watching, sorry feeling (for myself) patheticness. But I am sending my resume out! (The above actions are not listed amongst my "Skills," but I am awfully good at them. You need five hours of Murder, She Wrote and Good Eats watched straight through? I'm your girl!)

At any rate, that's not what this post is about. For those of you (Beth) that I have not been ashamed to talk to lately, you know where I've been. This post is about the light at the end of the tunnel. I commiserated tonight with my bowling partner and former assistant stage manager, who is in somewhat the same situation as I (though not as bad, because he has good non-theatre experience and opportunities) and he likened this time period to getting a shot at the Doctor's office. And what does the Dr. always say? "This will only hurt for a minute." In the vast span of my life (hopefully,) this period of unemployment despair will end up being but a pinprick. And as much as I should know that anyway, hearing someone else tell me that, with conviction, makes all the difference. I've never thought I would not get another job in my chosen field, but some times are harder than others, and I do tend to get bogged down, like Atreyu in The Never Ending Story. But I will become a productive member of society again (hopefully sooner, rather than later.) And I am determined to remember that now.

Now, if you'll excuse me, Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares is on. And I've only seen this episode once (this week.)

Pomegranate Vinaigrette Recipe Addendum

Funny how you can't really have a vinaigrette without some vinegar, eh? In my recipe recap, I left out that I also used some pomegranate red wine vinegar. Shall we try it again?

Pomegranate Vinaigrette

1/2 Cup Pomegranate juice reduced with 1 tablespoon sugar
A couple tablespoons pomegranate red wine vinegar
A couple tablespoons olive oil
The juice of one lime

Shake well.

All measurements are approximate and adjustable to taste!

Pip, Pip, Hooray!

I was first introduced to the pomegranate in the Ray Stevens' song "Ahab the Arab" in which we find Fatima laying on a zebra skin and nibbling on raisins, grapes, apricots, a pomegranate, bowl of chitlins, two bananas, three candy bars and sipping on a coca cola. Shortly thereafter, my then best friend Suzanne introduced me to an actual pomegranate. I have very fond memories of sitting on the wood floor in her upstairs bedroom of her parent's lake cabin in Alabama, playing with our Polly Pockets and our Barbies and painstakingly pulling out each pomegranate pip, popping them in our mouths, sucking the juice out and then swallowing the seed whole. The pomegranate was this magical fruit, the likes of which I had never seen before, only made more mystical by the story of Persephone and how Hades kidnapped her and she ate four pomegranate pips while she was down there, and so she has to return for four months every year and Demeter makes it winter because she is so sad. My mother was good enough to purchase a pomegranate for me when I came home from that first weekend praising its glories, but it never became a staple of our household. And then we moved away from Atlanta and I was separated from my source, and thus began years of estrangement between the pomegranate and me.

This year the parents drove 14 hours to spend Christmas with the Boyfriend and me, and I took planning Christmas dinner very seriously. I wanted a couple of the holiday staples, but I also wanted to utilize winter produce, and my choices were brussels sprouts and pomegranates. Brussels sprouts I have cooked many a time in my adulthood, and I've even got my niece loving them, but picking up a pomegranate was like running into an old friend, and you have that conversation where you say fancy meeting them here, and how great the other person looks, and find out what each other has been up to and see if you still want to hang out together after all those years. Well pomegranate, you are definitely welcome to drop by my house anytime!

First up was Roast Duck with Pomegranate Glaze courtesy Whole Foods. I'm a big fan of duck, especially for the holidays. Normally I do a sherry glazed duck, but Mom can't do alcohol, so this was a perfect excuse for pomegranate use! It turned out pretty lip-smacking delicious, but I'd like to find a way to make the skin a little crispier and rend the fat more. And I had one 7 pound duckling as opposed to two little ducklings. Here is the Boyfriend doing his manly carving thing. I wish I had remembered to take a better picture of the duck, but after cooking for many an hour, and trying to get everything on the table at the right time, one tends to forget to photo-journal everything.

The other use of the pomegranate for Christmas was a really lovely romaine salad with a pomegranate vinaigrette. Take one head of romaine lettuce and chop it up with half a red onion throw in a tub of goat cheese. Mmm...goat cheese... And some pomegranate pips, of course. For the vinaigrette, reduce some pomegranate juice with some sugar, I think I used about half a cup and a tablespoon, respectively. Add some dollops of olive oil (I don't measure much, sorry) and the juice of half a lime, shake the dressing to blend, toss all together thoroughly and enjoy the best salad you will ever have!

At the moment, I am enjoying my most recently discovered use of the pomegranate pip, thanks to Wahooty - a glass of bubbly with several pips dropped in. Wahooty calls it a little alcoholic lava lamp, but I think it's more like an ever changing rorschach test. Very artsy. And VERY tasty, not to mention full of healthy anti-oxidants! Cheers, Blogoworld! (And a special thanks to Dave for helping me through the gauntlet of posting photos.)

So we'll take one more look back in time, and I'll leave you with Ray Stevens non-PC pomegranate. Enjoy!

A Fundamental Truth

I blame other people for not posting on their blogs more than I accept responsibility for not posting on my blog.

Thoughts on tonight's episode of Monk

I love Monk. I've loved Monk for a good long while now. It's a great, fresh, funny show.

Not that I haven't had my fair share of criticisms for Monk. I mean, lately, I've found it pretty easy to pick out the murderer, the method and the motive early on ('cause come on, who didn't know this was going to be about the diamond the first time Julie popped up to mention it?), but I do still enjoy watching the process.

So tonight, after weeks and weeks of withdrawal, we get the Christmas episode of Monk! I love USA. I love that Monk comes on with new episodes when I'm stuck with reruns for all my other shows. (For the record, I love Psych, too. Way to go, USA!)

Monk tends to make me feel awkward during episodes. I mean, seriously, why couldn't Monk have legitimately won that basketball trophy? He deserved a damn trophy! Oh, and when Monk got to play with Willie Nelson, but he couldn't play the instrument 'cause someone else had used it? So not fair! But I digress. These are thoughts on tonight's episode.

1. I love Larry Miller. LOVE him. And I love that Larry Miller is reguesting on this episode. But, seriously? Even when you are innocent, you don't want Larry Miller as your lawyer. BAD idea. And Captain Stottlemeyer, I am surprised at you, calling Larry Miller to be Monk's lawyer when you really must've known how incompetent he must be.

2. Leland Stottlemeyer, I am surprised at you again for even appearing to doubt Monk's side of the story! How many times have you doubted Monk, have you thought that he was having some sort of episode, only to be shown, in the end, that Monk was right? It always reminds me of that episode of Simon and Simon (and dear Lord, I LOVE Simon and Simon, why does no one rerun that show anymore?) where Jamison Parker (I mean AJ) was on vacation and saw a murder and no one believed him. I mean, even Rick thought that he imagined it. Jessica has had that happen to her a few times too, and even Doogie Howser had it happen to him on an episode of Murder, She Wrote! Um, anyway, my point is, whatever Monk says, is kosher with me.

3. The interview was live? Really? I find that VERY hard to believe.

5. Okay, so the old woman gets attacked by a thug, knocks him down with her canvas bag (I am always prepared to do that) and sprays the shit out of him with her pepper spray. And then Santa comes up and she's all "oh, thank goodness, he has a knife!" like she's suddenly a big victim? I'd be all "back the fuck away, Santa! I'm on a roll!"

6. San Francisco is so fickle. How many times has Monk saved YOUR ass, SF?!?!

7. Just on a side note, 'cause I was actually thinking about this in the shower today, but I like Natalie more than Sharona. I liked Sharona a lot, and when she left, I was really dreading what was going to happen. And at first look, Natalie parallels Sharona a lot, single mom, one kid, etc. But maybe they really wanted a single mom as his assistant. And Natalie's awesome. And Julie is totally more awesome than Benji was (sorry Benji.) But yeah, I find myself liking Natalie more than Sharona.

8. Ooo, Monk just figured it out! (I totally caught the one walkie talkie thing when Disher first mentioned it, too.) I LOVE it when Monk figures it out! Even if I have already figured it out. Not that I'm bragging, it's just that I've watched a lot of Murder, She Wrote in my day. A LOT. I know the signs.)

9. "I'm feeling something."
"It's joy, you're feeling some joy!"
"I don't like it."

Aww, but at the end of the day, Monk makes me smile.

Ooo, and not only do I now get to watch the Christmas episode of Psych, but I get the promise of new episodes of Monk in January!!

Merrrrrrrry Christmas!