Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Eleven Years

Eleven years ago today is when my ability to sleep in disappeared for a decade.

It's when my status as a voracious reader became endangered.

It marked the beginning of a six-month period during which I ate perhaps 5 hot meals.

And it's the day when a dark-haired, blue-eyed little boy entered my life.

I wouldn't change a thing.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

I'm on a horse.

Best. Commercial. EVER. I just hear it coming on the TV even from another room and I start to smile.

Yep, I'm a huge dork. But I appear to be in good company.

And better yet, there's a sequel! You can catch it at the Old Spice website, I think: Old Spice Manmercials.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Choreboy Strikes Again

I think he's a bit overwrought. In my defense... well, I did that in the comments.

His latest entry is here.

Go. Read. You might even giggle.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Parental Pride

Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

One Sunday for the children's sermon, our minister had picked a topic familiar to most children: consequences. And she then asked the cherubs surrounding her just what they would do if they could do anything, anything in the world, without having to worry about consequences.

"I'd play with my friends all day!"
"I'd play video games!"
"I'd visit my grandmother!"

Ah, the little darlings.

The next child she called on was the Elder Offspring, who looked so grown up in his blue oxford cloth button-down and khacki pants.

"I'd ditch school."

I sank down in the pew.

And next, she finally saw the Gum Zombie up in the choir loft, nearly dislocating his shoulder with the violence of his hand-waving.

"Yes! And what would you do?"

"I'd rob a bank!"

The entire congregation giggled, and those who knew this was my spawn were shooting me looks equally divided between horror and amused sympathy. Not that I noticed so much, because now I was trying to figure out how I could fit under the pew -- forget this wimpy "sinking down" nonsense.

Remember, this is the same child who tried to pick a lock using a twig. Here's hoping my flippant "Our Future Burglar" prognosis doesn't bear fruit.

*Note: Yes I see the humor in this. HUGE amounts of it. It just wasn't quite as funny at the time... go figure ;)

Sunday, February 14, 2010

An Open Letter to the Food Network

Dear Food Network,

Heaven knows I love your channel. And Heaven also knows that my husband wishes Alton Brown were not on at 11:00 p.m. our time, because I'm busy watching Good Eats then instead of doing other things. So, clearly, I am a dedicated viewer.

Also, I like to cook. It's an enjoyment born out of self-preservation because I have two children at home and a husband who works in the restaurant industry and therefore does NOT cook once he hits home turf, except in the case of dire emergency/ Cajun food craving. So since it's either cook or starve, because eating out is pricey... I cook. It's just something I do. I also wash clothes, scrub toilets, drive a car... I do many things, because they're just part of living.

I am not a laundress, a custodian, or a chauffeur, although I perform all these functions. And I am not "a" cook. I'm just a person who cooks... because again with the eating-instead-of-starving preference.

And believe me, Food Network, I am fully aware I am nowhere near being a chef. I have zero formal food preparation training, and would never presume to hold a candle to many of the amazing chefs who grace your shows. What I do have is the ability to follow or modify a recipe, and an ability to find excellent ones. It's like chemistry class, only less accuracy is required (except with the baking -- oish!). It's fun, and when you pay attention you can produce some pretty tasty stuff.

All that said, would you please, oh pretty please, abolish the term "home cook" from your chefs' vocabularies? I had never heard the term, actually, until Chef Anne Burrell used it on the final episode of Worst Cook in America with words along the lines of "These meals weren't prepared by us, they were made by home cooks."

Cue gasps of horror and shock from the judges' table!!!

Then to top it all off, she revealed that not only were these people members of the dreadfully shocking "home cook" class, they were actually really, really, bad home cooks.

The horror!! The horror!!!

Okay, someone who initially cooked terribly badly being brought to a level of not only competence but excellence is impressive. And I enjoyed the show. But that line "home cook" rankled.

Then on an episode of Chopped, Chef Alex Guarnaschelli remarked that a dish was simple like something a "home cook" would have made. My lip twitched, and I was really worried that she'd get a crick in her neck with the way she was holding her nose up in the air.

You know, it wouldn't be so bad if your chefs didn't say "home cook" with the same inflection they use to utter "raw pork," "rotten fish," or "Guy Fieri". But as it stands, a "home cook" is something that is apparently as appealing as a communicable disease.

The vast majority of your viewing audience isn't cooking for a living. We aren't chefs. We don't cook in restaurants. Where the hell else do you expect us to cook other than at home?

It's an inherently condescending term, used in a consistently patronizing manner. And it's an insult to, I'd say, the majority of your viewing audience.

Cut it out. It rankles.


Monday, February 08, 2010


First of all, thank you everyone for the well-wishes for my knees and whatever else ails me. It's frustrating, but this too shall pass in some form or fashion, even if it ends up just being me having to get used to a different way of living and developing a new definition of "active."

Secondly, Tycho? See subject line. Ahem.

But seriously, it seems like the whole "turning 40" thing has hit. I was fine a month ago. Just FINE. I could walk, run, move around, all with little to no incident. Okay, other than my amazing ability to trip over carpet lint it was "little to no incident". And the lack of depth perception, which has me walking into doorways I know darned good and well are there. Er... okay. Shutting up.

Ultimately though, I'm used to those things. This whole new weird thing with my knees is aggravating, and to top it all off they decided over the weekend to bring pain into the equation. I think maybe slogging through the Florida State Fair for a few hours on Saturday wasn't my best move.

On the plus side, without going to the fair I wouldn't have discovered there's such a thing as Harp Therapy. Yep, and for a mere $15 a CD, you too can get yourself some therapy. As played on a harp.

By a woman who apparently feels that wearing a white velour choir robe is a good marketing gimick.

I swear, you can't make this up.

So anyway, since I haven't heard about my rheumatologist's appointment yet (I don't expect to hear anything until Wednesday when I'm to call back if I haven't heard), I've been once again consulting Dr. Google.

You know, because the last time was so very successful.


Well, this time Dr. Google has very kindly suggested I might have Vitamin D deficiency! I came across this little gem while googling "swollen joints", because the other search terms ("edemic femur" and so forth) weren't garnering much in the way of hits. I'd do the happy dance that I'm a textbook case for this (little to no exposure to sunlight, lactose intolerant, perimenopausal) except that I was also textbook symptomatically for the ACL injury.

Humph. But I'm going to grab some Vitamin D and start taking it anyway. As Choreboy said, "It wouldn't hurt either of us to consider supplements at this stage of life." And he's probably right.

Except, just what stage is he talking about with this "us" anyway? He's 48. I'm .... *glancing at the sidebar* not. Not even the same decade, dude.

That said, I move like I'm eighty. So I guess it all comes out in the wash.

Thursday, February 04, 2010



I don't have any ACL issues. I went to my doctor to go over the MRI results and the report said, "The ACL, PCL, fibular collateral and medial collateral ligament structures are intact without evidence for tear or sprain. The menisci are normal in morphology and signal characteristic without evidence for injury. Articular cartilaginous surfaces appear intact..." and went on from there (I'll spare you the rest).


On the one hand this is good news. Yay, no ACL surgery!!!

On the other hand, then what's wrong with my knees? What's causing the sensation that my body is about to rebel and throw me to the floor?

No clue.

"The findings do not have typical appearance for AVN (avascular necrosis). The findings are nonspecific and may possibly be seen with RDS (huh?) or atypical inflammatory/ infectious process..."

Which sounds to me like radiologist-speak for "Well, would you have a look at that?"

My doctor agrees, so she's referring me to a rheumatologist (due to the "inflammatory" bit). I should know when my appointment is in about a week, so we'll start the countdown to the next specialist then.

In the meantime I did get the okay to walk on my treadmill, so hooray! She did tell me she wouldn't okay jogging or running due to the whole inflammatory possibility since the higher impact wouldn't be good for that, but walking is fine. And my treadmill has handrails and a safety key, so even if I stumble chances are I won't fall and even if I do, it will shut off.

I just don't see the cane being a good idea on that machine, yanno?

So anyway, like the post title says, I'm a bit nonplussed. I thought I'd have a definitive answer for what's going on and instead I just have more questions.

And a cane.

And I turn forty in less than two months.


But I can walk. I'm not going to discount that.