Patience Is A Virtue . . . Can I Get Some Please?

Before we dive into new topics, let's do a quick update on some old ones:

1) Jillian and I haven't been spending much time together and I am not "shredding." I know. I know. I'm weak.

2) Saw the X-Files movie. It was so, so. Kinda like watching an episode of the television show, but instead of one hour with commercials, you get two hours and no commercials (and movie theater popcorn if you so choose). Any die-hard X-Files fan should see it -- and probably already has. Anyone who is in the mood to see yummy David Duchovney should see it. Anyone else might want to wait until it comes out on DVD.

3) The purse is working out well. Still lovin it. Still realize that I'm a slave to my consumer urgings. Again, I'm weak.

So, now onto the topic du jour. Through the course of my years on the planet and some trials, tribulations and soul searching I have come to realize that I am not a patient person. I believe I fool people into perceiving me to be patient, but inside, I'm really not. My lack of patience often comes through in the area of household maintenance. I can only tolerate a modest amount of mess and clutter and then I go completely berzerk. I like things neat, orderly, clutter-free and smelling like fresh cut lavender or a vanilla bean or white linen or whatever other harmonious scents are offered by Fabreeze and the Glade family of air freshening plug-ins. Lately, Mr. Oz and I have (well, mostly me) have been on a kick to de-clutter our pad in the attempt to get it ready to put on the market and sell. We started doing this and, I must say, made some headway. But, after we realized that we would need to come up with a mere $25K to cover the loss on our current place and then make a downpayment, pay fees, closing costs, etc. for a new place, well . . . our dreams of new home ownership went bye-bye. I view this as a temporary set back. Minor inconvenience. The real estate market being what it is right now, it is probably for the best that we stay put, pay down on our principle and keep looking. As you can imagine, this revelation has put our efforts to de-clutter in a hold pattern. Once again, I'm starting to go berzerk. We have crap everywhere. I feel claustrophobic, on edge and disheveled.

A friend suggested that we make the best of it by making some cosmetic updates to the place. You know, throw on a fresh coat of paint in some lighter, brighter, happy color. Maybe get a new sofa. Stuff like that. I like this idea. I do think I need to do something in order to get myself to the point where I don't feel stagnant and miserable . . . oh and berzerk. Must eliminate the berzerk. I'm considering my options and will consult back with all of you at a later date on this possible foray into home decorating. I wish I could on one of those shows where a team of highly skilled professionals swoop in and redesign your space for like $500 or something. That would be awesome. Where is Nate Berkus when you need him? Nate!! I need you. Please get her soon. I'm going berzerk.

Another area where my patience evaporates is when Mr. Oz's eyes start to bother him. You see, Mr. Oz has this eye condition called Keratoconus. It is a degenerative malady which causes all kinds of issues for him -- sensitivity to light, blurred vision, etc. He has to wear this rigid contacts to help him see and like any chronic condition he has good days and he has bad days. You can never really predicate the bad days and it is a real bummer when his eyes start to bother him. His eyes get all red and puffy. He starts tearing up. They become dry and itchy and he rubs and scratches which doesn't help because then it just gets more and more irritated. He can't see and he is completely and utterly miserable. Now, I don't want you to think that I'm cruel and heartless. I feel for Mr. Oz and I try to help but there is really not much to be done. When this flare-up strikes, the only real remedy is to take out the contact lenses, close his eyes and try to ride it out.

Last night he had an attack where all of the symptoms I describe came out in full force. Unfortunately, we were at a party. I had been looking forward to this event all week and was excited to spend time hanging out with friends. We had just finished eating dinner when it became obvious that Mr. Oz was not doing so well. He needed to go home and take care of his eyes. Sigh. He suggested that I grab a ride home with one of the other guests and he drive himself home. While that was a sweet offer, he could barely see. His eyes were blood red and there was no way I would feel good about sending him on his merry way to drive 20+ miles back home in that state. No. We had to leave. He felt bad. I was miffed and not very nice. I was angry with him, but not really . . . . I just hate his eyes and the stupid disease. It wasn't his fault and he is not to be blamed for ruining the evening, but you can see how, in the moment, all those things fall by the wayside and my impatience came out.

We made it home and by the time we pulled up in the drive I was mostly over my initial annoyance at the situation and at him. In dealing with this condition I have grown a new found respect for those who take care of loved ones through debilitating and chronic illness. It can't be easy. Thankfully, Mr. Oz hasn't yet hit the point when the only course of action is a corneal transplant. That day may come as it is currently the only next course of treatment for him. Scary. I consider this and worry about what could go wrong. How will he be affected? How will our lives be affected? No matter how much you love someone, dealing with and making the best of these types of challenges is, well, challenging.

I'm a believer in the adage that God only gives you as much as you can handle. You can think about people who have gone through unspeakable tragedy and pain and ask yourself, what kind of God would allow this and at what point can one person just not handle it? I'm not claiming to be even close to that. No way. Not be a long shot. I'm super lucky and know it. But, I think the adage is a little off and a wee bit misleading. I don't think there is some omnipotent, omnipresent being who doles out punishments from on high for the purpose of "giving us what we can handle." Nope. Instead, it seems to me that God knows our weak areas and those things that we most need to work on. God sees this and places opportunities in our path to help us recognize and overcome these frailties. Sometimes there are big things. Sometimes there are small. On that same note, I think everyone who comes into our lives is someone we are supposed to learn from. They are there to help us discover something about who we are, why we are here and what we can achieve and overcome.

I do think that, for me, I need to work on my patience and this is one thing that God is trying to teach me and help me with. Now, I'm not saying that Mr. Oz came into my life to teach me patience and living with him is my "punishment" to do that. Mr. Oz is one of those people who came into my life as a compliment to reinforce those areas that I may struggle in. He's in my life to teach me and make me better. So, in a way, he's like my own little sliver of God. I like to think that I am his too. We aren't manifestations of God's "tests" to one another. We are like angels sent to one another to help us through and see the beauty of life that surrounds us.

When you boil it all down, I guess what this all means is I can blame God for the old magazines, dirty dishes and piles of crap everywhere in my house. Thanks a lot God! Maybe at some point in the not-to-distant future God will see my need to deal with winning the lottery as something I need to work on.

I know this was a long entry and my waxing philosophical and spirtual may be a bit too much to handle. I promise to go back to my entries on liquor and handbags soon enough. :)

Purse Ponderings

I was in a high end retail store today and saw an ad featuring this glamorous, well-appointed, perfectly coiffed and stylishly dressed young lady. She had this doll face, perfect body and was doing some sort of cute little leap, saucy flirtatious wink thing that women in these types of ads usually do and no one EVER in real life would EVER do. You know what I'm talkin about, right? Well, underneath her image there was a quotation, presumably the thoughts or words of this enviable woman. The quote was something like "I am a connoisseur and not a consumer. I love to be surrounded by beautiful things."

Well, this got me thinking. What does this all really mean? Can a distinction be drawn between connoisseur and consumer and, if so, what is the demarcation dividing one from the other? I hate consumerism but am a huge hypocrite because I am one of the most rampant consumers you will find. I also spend a great deal of time studying and trying to understand the consumer mind and behavior. No, I'm not a psycho. It's my job, ok. But now I'm wondering if I might just be able to call myself a connoisseur. Seriously. I'm not just wasting my money on almost daily espresso drinks. No. I'm a coffee connoisseur. I don't have a harmful addiction to buying new shoes. Nope. I am a footwear connoisseur and the "pieces" I purchase are little works of art that I just happen to wear. Doesn't that have a much more elegant and inspiring sound to it? It does. In the spirit of being surrounded by beautiful things and in an effort to feed my inner connoisseur, I purchased myself a little present today. You see, I got my end of year bonus from work and nearly every dollar of it is going toward a very practical, not fun, totally unexciting and mundane home refinance (I'll likely blog more about that nightmare later). So necessary, but not so fulfilling. To think of it makes me sad and a wee bit depressed. I decided to use a bit of my hard earned bonus to buy myself a treat, to reward my consumerist, err, I mean connoisseur self. Here is what I got. Behold the beauty that IS the handbag (cue angelic choir like music):



SIGH. This is a gem my friends. Shiny silver metallic trim on this bad boy. Plenty of roominess with several compartments for easy storage and access. Just lovely. Purrs like a kitten . . . well, ok, it doesn't have an engine and I don't know what kind of fuel efficiency we are talking about here, but this is one classy ride and it costs MUCH less than a new car.

So, now where was I? Consumerism versus Connoisseurism? Am I a materialist or a Marxist? Am I shallow for loving this bag so much? Am I just feeding into our society's vacuous need for self-gratification via the acquiring of status symbols and pretty baubles? And, if I'm aware of this does that make me better off or worse off? Why do I feel so gleeful while also recognizing the empty promises offered by this manifestation of capitalist fetishism?

I'm too busy admiring the shiny goodness of my new purse to care. Let's talk about it later, ok?

The Truth Is Out There

Very excited about this.

Do you believe?

You better believe I'll be in the movie theater this weekend. Word.

Summer Reminiscing

It is a hot one outside today my friends. Hot. It's the kind of weekend day you long for in the middle of January when the snow is 3 feet deep, the wind is howling and the elements are so bitter one could freeze their extremities if exposed for more than 5 minutes. In those cold, cold days it is a pleasant thought to consider the blazing heat of July and all those associations that go along with it. The irony of this, of course, is when it does get up into the low 90's or higher, we tend to scramble into the nearest air conditioned home, restaurant or movie theater. I would go on to contend that, as humans, we always want what we do not currently have. But, this would be false because even though it is crazy hot outside, I am not wishing for the sub-zero winter just yet (and likely never will).

Summer . . . it is more than a season, it is a state-of-mind. It beckons to us and draws us back to our fondest childhood memories when school was out, vacation was a 3 month long adventure and the sound of lawnmowers and sprinklers awakened our sense of joy and happiness. As a kid, if someone would have asked me what images come to mind when I think about summer, I probably would have said a swimming pool, a bicycle, and roller skates. As an adult, my summer images have changed ever so slightly.



The refreshing citrus sourness of the perfect summer margarita rimmed with salt. The fire pit and the reminiscent smells of smoky burning wood lingering on your clothes, hair and skin. A fold out camping chair in the background just waiting for the group to assemble and share a few laughs round the old fire. These are the things that make my adult summer time sing. Now, my images seem to hold a distinct theme of leisure and lethargy (dare I say booze!) while as a child they were all about activity and boundless energy. What has happened? Have I lost my vigor for life? Is this just a typical growing old stuff? I'm not sure and I don't know if one is better than the other. I do know that, as a child, my summers were about speeding up, moving fast, getting gone and racing around. Now, I feel like I get plenty of that in my day-to-day hustle and bustle life -- well, not the exercise part but just the frantic stressed out part. When I do get out and enjoy summer I want to slow it down, be calm, take a breathe and just exist. Funny how things change.

I hope you are all having a low key and enjoyable summer so far. Remember to take time to sip the margaritas and hang out by the campfire if that is the kind of summer thing you like to do.

Oh, and if it is HOT where you live I recommend ducking into a cool theater to see the new Batman movie. Mr. Oz and I went on Friday and it was better than I expected. Definitely a great summer flick.

Jillian Makes Big Promises (But Can She Keep Em)

If you are familiar with the television show, The Biggest Loser, you would know trainer Jillian Michaels. She's one tough Beeatch. She has known to make big, tough men cry like little babies. She trains people until they vomit and then yells at them to wipe the puke from their face and get back on the treadmill for another mile. This woman has absolutely no sympathy. So, a few weeks ago I was in the market for an exercise DVD and what did I see but Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred.


This little gem promises you can lose up to 20 pounds if you complete one of the 20 minute circuit training workouts each day for 30 days. Hmmmm. I was intrigued. Really? 20 lbs? Only 20 minutes a day? OK, Jillian. What's the catch? Do I have to workout in a 115 degree room wearing one of those vinyl jumpsuits that traps my sweat against my skin? Must my only food for the month be a diet of celery and my own tears to quench my thirst? I read the DVD jack and didn't see anything like that. No. It was pretty straightforward and there weren't any gimmicks. So, I'm giving you 30 days Jillian. Of course, I can't eat cheeseburgers and fries and still expect this promise to be fulfilled so I'm ready to do my part if Jillian does hers. A nutritious breakfast to start the day. Lots of water. Sensible lunch and dinner. No junk food. And 20 minutes a day with Jillian. All right BeeAtch, Brrring IT!

Summer Storms

I have a love and fear relationship with Summer storms. We are experiencing one as I type this and it is both exhilarating and scary. You know those kind of thunderstorms where it is super hot and humid all day long, like we are talking blistering heat and then the cold front moves in and the temp drops 30 degrees in 30 minutes . . . that is what I'm talking about. Mr. Oz and I are sitting around at home when, for no apparent reason, the electricity cuts off. No power. Now, this is a problem when the air conditioner is the only thing standing between you and the Everglades moisture and Saraha like warmth of the outside. Bad.

I think guys have this "fix-it" gene embedded in their DNA which immediately kicks in to high gear. Maybe it is an off shoot of our primal flight or fight instinct, I'm not sure. But, for those of you who know Mr. Oz, he is not really what I would classify as a handyman type. Sure, he's good with computers and all things computer related, but household things like remedying power outages are not so much his thing. But, he tried . . . he sprung into action, grabbed a flashlight and skittered out to the garage to check the circuit breaker. Nothin. Nada. Zip. There was fiddling and flipping but no current. Suddenly we hear this chattering outside. Some of our neighbors were loudly discussing that they too had no power. Whew. It wasn't just our problem. This is strangely reassuring. That means the power company will swoop in and remove whatever burnt animal carcass is smoldering from inside the transformer cuz it crawled in there and some live wire zapped it. Poor chipmunk or rabbit or whatever. My remorse is low because, darn it, I need my television and computer and AIR CONDITIONING!!!!

Left with no other options, we left the house and headed to a neighboring watering hole for a cold beer and some dinner. Why fret in the ever increasing warmth and darkness at home when there is a cool, dark bar to hang out in, right? That is when we saw the ominous storm clouds rolling in. The once sunny outdoors grew an eery purple, black, grey with swirling winds. You could just see it rolling over us. Gulp. Once again, the fight or flight instinct hits. Well, I guess I should say the feast or flight instinct in this case. Do we stay and finish our delicious steak dinner or do we grab a to-go box and high tail back to our pitch black home? Hmmmmm. We stayed. We were brave (and hungry).

I know you are all sitting on the edge of your seats wondering what happened? Did a tornado form and lift us and our steaks high into the clouds, whip us around and drop us off in a field in Iowa? Did we make it? I know it isn't high suspense because I am typing this right now. Luckily we made it home safely and the power did, eventually turn back on. We have light and t.v. and the beloved chilly blast from the air conditioner is wafting over me right now. Ahhhhhhh. I'm not sure if the surge of electricity turning back on overloaded Mr. Oz's computer, but it doesn't seem to be working right now. That is making him grumpy. He loves his computer. BUT, tomorrow is his birthday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY) so who knows, maybe a birthday computer is on the list. Just what we need, more technology. :)

Gotta love a summer storm.

Book Meme

I was taking a break from de-cluttering the townhouse and skipping my evening workout and hopped online to check out some of my fave-o-rite blogs. Over at Hollow Squirrel, I spotted a book meme. If you aren't quite sure what to make of this meme business. Here is a brief and simple definition as provided by good ole Wikipedia:

A meme (pronounced /miːm/)^[1] consists of any unit of cultural information, such as a practice or idea, that gets transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another. Examples include thoughts, ideas, theories, practices, habits, songs, dances and moods. Memes propagate themselves and can move through a "culture" in a manner similar to the behavior of a virus.

Now you get it right? A meme is like the flu bug. It flies around hopping from one person to the next igniting symptoms like cough, runny nose, stuffy head, etc. Sounds awesome no? Well, despite the surgeon general's warning to stay away from all things virus-like, I decided to hop on the bandwagon and participate in this meme. Why? Well, because it deals with books and I LOVES me some books. And, it was transmitted to me by Hollow Squirrel and she is one crazy, awesome chica. Fo schure. So, here's the meme. Ready, set go!

1. Pick up the nearest book
2. Open to page 123
3. Find the 5th sentence
4. Post the next three sentences
5. Tag five people, and acknowledge who tagged you

The book closest to me is "In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto" by Michael Pollan which I have not yet started reading. Pg. 123 offers these fantastic sentence gems:

"Most of the missing micronutrients are supplied by fruits and vegetables, of which only 20 percent of American children and 32 percent of adults eat the recommended five daily servings. The cellular mechanisms Ames has identified could explain why diets rich in vegetables and fruits seem to offer some protection against certain cancers. Ames also believes, though he hasn't yet proven it, that micronutrient deficiences may contribute to obesity."

So, what are you meme-lovers out there supposed to take away from this? Hmmmm. I suppose the first thing is that peeps are not eating enough fruit and veg and that is BAD. Secondly, it seems that some person named Ames feels strongly about pointing this out and shaking his proverbial finger at all of us Americans who are nutrient failures. Third, not eating fruit and veg makes us fat. Finally, you now realize -- as if you hadn't already known it -- that I'm a nerd who reads nerdly books. Yep. Now there's some food for thought people.

Sadly, I don't think I have a total of five people who even read my blog on a regular basis so tagging five is not an option. Instead, I will just throw my virus meme out to Abysmal Scribble and Astitious. Oh heck, I'll even throw down the gauntlet to my buddy over at 155x5. I seriously doubt he'll see it, but who cares. Consider yourself memed! Hi-Yah (insert kick-ass karate chop motion and roundhouse kick).

Hot Damn, It's Salmon

I'm just wondering . . . would you make this?

Dishwasher Salmon

I'm seriously considering it but am not sure how I feel about putting it in there with dirty dishes and the ole Cascade. I do see how those hyper environmentally conscious out there might see the benefit of energy savings. Clean your dishes AND prepare a yummy dinner all at the same time. Wow.

This recipe reminds me of a song Mr. Oz found several months back. It is silly but catchy. You need to play it a few times and pump up the bass to get the full effect. Although everything within me screams out to reject and hate this song, I can't help but love it. Damn salmon!

Freedom Beer

Yesterday was beer bottling day. Much like Laverne and Shirley, we worked the line Old Milwaukee style and came away from the adventure with nearly 6 cases of tasty Rattlesnake Lager. Good stuff. Some of our friends agreed to join us to lend a hand. I guess the promise of free beer is motivator enough. We all met up at 1:30pm at Vine Park Brewery in St. Paul. I thought the actual brewing part was fun, but the bottling was even better. The staff at the brewery encourages the you to sample your beer as you bottle and cap it. We provided some snacks as bottling is some hard work and one can become famished. We had to guard against folks passing out :)


Above you can see the antics of some of our brewing comrades (I will withhold names to protect the guilty!). I think it is fair to say that we all had a pleasant experience drinking our self-crafted nectar and partaking in some harmless revelry.

In one of the images you will see there was a quality control incident. One bottling related injury occurred so, be warned, this task is not for the faint of heart. Ms Jo received a small gash whilst opening a bottle. After some immediate triage, we all agreed that this injury was not fatal and she would live on to bottle another day. Whew. Jo, you might want to investigate a Tetanus shot to forgo any future lock jaw issues or various other bottling infection-type maladies. I'm just sayin . . . .

Well, lest you think that all we did was drink and cause mayhem, here are some pictures of the finished product. Since it was only 3pm when we finished, we continued the fun at a secret, yet-to-be disclosed location. A bonfire and more merriment ensued. All in all it was a great day!
















Now onto an Independence Day tie-in . . . you knew it was coming . . . A while back there was a big uproar over the French not supporting our ill-conceived and poorly executed war in Iraq. Some brilliant (insert sarcasm) person decided to re-name French Fries to Freedom Fries. I thought that was funny. I would like to do something similar and from here on out will refer to our beer as Freedom Beer not just because we bottled it the day after the 4th of July. No. Each time we take a sip of this fine beverage, we will pay tribute to those brave souls who stand up and defend our freedom. I'm not talking about the soldiers in Iraq. While I respect and admire them for their sacrifice and I wish them a speedy return home, I'm talking about those who are trying to defend our Constitution, fight for our civil liberties and keep the government in check. Not an easy job. For you, fearless defenders of the freedom, well . . . this beers for you. Happy 4th of July everyone.

Road Construction Rage

July 3, 2008. I began the day with a goal. I had big, ambitious plans. The kind of plans where you take a day off work, make reservations, wake up early and map out your day. What, you ask, were these gigantic plans? Previously I wrote about the need to sell the townhouse and find something a little spacious for the Oz's. In that post, I had declared a need to de-clutter in order to put the house on the market. Well, today was going to be a day of de-cluttering. Last week, I reserved a 10 foot truck. You see we have some miscellenous boxes, small furniture and the like that simply will not fit in our cars. That's where the truck comes in. Bright and early this morning, we lept out of bed and hightailed it over to Metro RV & Storage. Sounds like a great place full of helpful peeps, shiny equipment and everything one could possibly need to take care of their moving needs.

Wrong!

Driving to pick up our truck, I noticed a great deal of road construction going on. I took the turn and BAM, haulers and pavers and blades and such dotted the landscape at precisely the spot where I was to turn in. No big deal, right? Just turn around and look for a detour. There has to be one. Right?

Oh there was. We followed it only to be taken on a wild goose chase around the hills and vales of our fair suburb. The back way in, too, was blocked. Road closed. Dead end. Too bad.

I had a phone number so being the responsible person that I am, I called. No one answered. Not to be thwarted (I am resourceful, after all) we called the national Budget rental hotline and conveyed the story of the ill-placed road construction. They gave us an alternate number for the joint. Again, no one answered. We dialed that damn number like 16 times. Nothin.

You can be sure I left a message in a very stern tone. My plans, in an instant, were gone. My goal for the day was not to be.

A few hours later I received a call from the place. Apparently the road construction louts accidently cut off their phone line so they could not receive incoming calls nor make outgoing calls. I was also told that we could have driven on the 'closed road' if we would have stopped to ask the construction truck driver dudes to let us through. Whatever. I'm done. You lost your chance Metro RV & Storage. From now on, consider yourself dead to me.

Anyone have a pick-up truck we can borrow? Help. I need to DE-CLUTTER!!!!!!!

The James Beard Awards

I was perusing some of my favorite blogs and stumbled across the list of 2008 James Beard award winners. If you are unfamiliar with the James Beard awards, I can easily provide an explanation. These are top props for all of those chefs and restaurateurs out there. Think Academy Awards for the culinary world.

2008 James Beard Awards

I have yet visited many of the listed restaurants, but it doesn't really matter. A girl can dream. I consider myself to be a bit of a food snob, or better said, an appreciator of all things gourmet and delicious. I will just add many of these lauded spots to my list of things/places to go before I die -- my very own bucket list. Extra HUGE kudos to 112 Eatery, La Belle Vie and Restaurant Alma in Minneapolis. All were nominated under the category of Best Midwest Chef. I've visited each of these and can attest to their creative and tasty fare. Beware of the sweetbreads and other organ meat on the menu at Alma. You can run, but you can't hide!

The Gramercy Tavern in NYC won the Outstanding Restaurant award. This is extra exciting for me, not because I've ever been to the Gramercy Tavern. I haven't. But, I do boast a connection. A high school friend, Nancy Olson, is the head pastry chef. Her desserts are magnificent. I'm contemplating a trip to NYC simply to try one (or more than one) of her sweet treats. She's a genius. Her pastry inspired.

Under the category of books, I just picked up Barbara Kingsolver's latest, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life. I haven't cracked into yet. Still trying to finish a few of my other books. But, I can hardly wait to start reading it . . . Among my favorite books of 2007 were a couple by Michael Pollan. The Ominvore's Dilemna was eye opening and really made me rethink my attitude and behavior toward the food we eat. If you are interested in taking a closer look at how we, as a society, plant, pick, transport, manipulate, pen and produce our food, than this is a read for you. It is scary at times. Many have likely heard the term, industrial military complex as a description used for our war-ready economy. I think we also have a industrial food complex which pumps an amazing amount of crap into our diets each day. After reading Pollan's book, you'll want to take a hot shower and then pick up an apple, wash off the pesticides and chemicals and take a big bite.