Under the Tuscan Yum

So I've been reading Under the Tuscan Sun recently. I never managed to watch th movie - it seemed like a mediocre vehicle for Diane Lane (who, suprise suprise, doesn't seem to resemble the author and main character of the book at all) coming off of her success in Unfaithful. But the book came with good recommendations, and I've mostly enjoyed it.

Much of it describes all the backbreaking, frustrating, and sometimes hilarious work that Frances Mayes, the author, and her husband/boyfriend/? (also suspiciously absent in the movie, from what I gather) had to do to get the old farmhouse liveable again. As a homeowner who enjoys house projects, this was particularly inyeresting to me.

The descriptions of the food (many of the vegetables grown on her property) and wine that Mayes encounters and prepares are also sumptuous. The spousal unit and I went to Italy 2 years ago, and found the cuisine of the region to be quite delectable, much more so than that in Rome. Mayes even includes some recipes in the text that I assume she created in an impromptu fashion. I'll be trying one of these recipes this week - Chicken with chickpeas, tomatoes, garlic, and thyme. Care to join me for dinner?

What I do find rather tedious is the descriptions of the towns and Etruscan historical sites that Mayes gives. If she had tried to edit herself more I believe she would have done this spectacular region more justice.

Suprise suprise...

No cease fire today.

Andrea Yates not guilty by reason of insanity.

Lance Bass is gay.

I'm not more imaginative today.

I'm a humanist

So I found this quiz that apparently assesses which faith (or lack thereof) you jive most with. For my part, I'd say the results are pretty accurate. I've never considered myself spiritual, but not quite atheist either. I always thought I was agnostic. But I like this better, I think. There's a link to the quiz below. Check it out and share your faith with me in the comments!

You fit in with: Humanism Your ideals mostly resemble that of a Humanist. Although you do not have a lot of faith, you are devoted to making this world better, in the short time that you have to live. Humanists do not generally believe in an afterlife, and therefore, are committed to making the world a better place for themselves and future generations. 0% scientific. 60% reason-oriented.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

What did he think he could get away with

It just blows my mind that Richard Hatch is being sent to prison for tax evasion. You remember him - the winner of the first Survivor? He didn't pay taxes on his million bucks. Did he really think nobody would notice? Now he's sentenced to over 4 years in prison. Stupid fuck.

Entourage just cracks me up. A friend of a friend calls it Sex and the City for guys. I think that's a great analogy. Wonder if they're gonna try and keep pushing Eric's threesome plot. Personally, I think he should stick with Sloan. A little munchkin like him needs a petite gal like her, not an Amazonian hottie like Tory (and like myself, I might add :-).

No wonder

I see this photograph and it leaves little doubt as to how the spousal unit ended up the way he is...

The gathering storm

I'm seeing headlines today that a cease-fire could happen between Hezbollah and Israel if the kidnapped Israeli soldiers are returned unharmed. I really hope that happens. This whole turn of events does not bode well if it cannot be resolved quickly.

Of course, President Bush thinks that Israel needs to just get Syria to make Hezbollah stop doing this shit. Sure. Israel and Syria have a terrific rapport.

Sorry. The spousal unit often criticizes my use of sarcasm as "the lowest form of wit". My bad.

Watched Munich on Friday night with the spousal unit and a friend. It felt especially significant given what was going on in Lebanon that very day. I really admire the message of that film. An eye for an eye truly does leave the world blind. Somebody just has to have the courage to refrain from retaliation. That's the difficult part.

Yowch! But boy can he sing....

How many Italian men do you think are happy this doesn't happen anymore?

As big as we're growing the women these days, seems like the procudure may be rendered obsolete even if it weren't horribly cruel.

I do!

The 5 year anniversary of my marriage to the spousal unit is quickly approaching. We've had a rough couple of years - gone through some hard times and losses of close family members. Well, it's finally started to feel like I'm getting the marriage I wanted back. And I'd suspected the spousal unit felt the same way. Well, to my delight those suspicions were confirmed yesterday. We were talking about getting away somewhere for that weekend to celebrate. The spousal unit suggested Vegas, to which I was not overly enthusiastic since we will be there for a Halloween wedding as well. He came back to Vegas though, and said he'd like it if it could be just the two of us there because....Will you marry me?

Yippee! Yesiree, spousal unit. I would marry you again a hundred times.

So I think the plan is to write some personal vows and exchange them with each other at some special place that anniversary weekend. Some folks seem to think a ceremony would be a good idea. But I'm not having another unless I can wear this dress.

New Kermonikers

My brain works in goofy ways, truly. It seems to always be churning in the background, trying to make new nicknames for the kerpupples out of words that I hear.

For example, while on vacation recently in Mexico the television was turned to a Stargate rerun (I think the dialog was still in English, with subtitles en espanol). From a reference to Anubis, I came up with the jewels Aroobis and Apoobis. And collectively, they can be called the Atwobis! Now, these are actually pretty clever given Anubis' jackal head. I think they'll stick.

Last night, the spousal unit and I finally got around to watching Hotel Rwanda. We've had it in stock from Netflix since December or so, but have held back I think due to the extremely depressing subject matter. The issues in Rwanda were between the Tutsi, a lighter-skinned, more caucasian-looking group of Rwandans, and the Hutu, whose appearance was more classically African (the darker ones were actually killing the lighter ones in this scenario). Working as it does, my brain associated the black dog Ripley, aka Poo, with the Hutu, and came up with Pootu. Likewise, blonde Roscoe became Rootsi. The spousal unit quickly convinced me that transforming this horrible genocidal blight in history into cute puppy names is, er, somewhat insensitive. He's right, and these names won't be sticking. But I still just have to marvel at the way my brain works. An odd duck am I.

Yo Franco

My friend Sean was supposed to have a look-see at my blog. Give me a shout out in the comments if you've been here, buddy.

All these nasty (well, in one case, allegedly nasty) folks keep dying. Al-Zarqawi. Patsy Ramsey. Ken Lay. Who's next? My money's on this guy.

I suck.

Where is my motivation? My inspiration?

Quick folks. I need blog topics. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeze!

The Camp Nazi

You know the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld? The guy you have to follow the rules just-so for or else he'll refuse to serve you some of his famous, delicious soup (he's a real guy, by the name of Al Yeganeh). Well, over the weekend, the kerpupples and I encountered the Camp Nazi.

I have to admit, Camp Nazi had a strike against him to begin with because we arrived to discover that Jefferson County has a complete fire ban in place. No campfires. Camping just isn't quite the same without a campfire. And as Camp Nazi (official title "camp host") broke the news that the penalty for violating the ban is a $5000 fine and 6 months in jail, our grumpiness over not being able to roast hotdogs and tell campfire ghost stories no doubt extended to him too.

This lame-ass campground also has a leash policy. Dogs must be on leashes at all times. Now, our kerpupples love to camp. And they do tend to wander a bit. But they are friendly, and socialized, and come back (usually) when we call them. It's the freakin' woods. If there's anywhere we should be able to let dogs roam free, it's there. And I always marvel at those who want to take their vicious, unsocialized dogs camping with them. Bear protection, I guess?

We ignored the rule and left them off-leash. For the most part they behaved, though Camp Nazi did scold us once. But then Mr. Kerpupple exacerbated the situation by running up to a camper walking his Weimeraner and doing his whole establish dominance routine. The other dog did not take to it well. But as dogs do, they worked it out, and there was no foul other than likely angering Weimeraner's owner.

Later that day, the spousal unit and I retired to the tent for a late afternoon nap. Our friend James, his brother, and some friends were cooking at the adjacent campsite, and the kerpupples know James well, so I trusted leaving them outside the tent while we snoozed. All was well, until I am jolted awake to the sound of "You leash those dogs NOW or you are OUT OF HERE!!!!!" screamed in our general direction from 5 or so campsites away. I sheepishly scrambled out to get the dogs on a leash - they were at the edge of the campsites we had rented. The guy kept on and on and rubbed James the wrong way, so James screamed back at him to leave us alone. Camp Nazi bellowed that he RUNS this place, effectively pissing on us and all our belongings.

Shortly following, I went on a walk around the campground to check out the other campers. Weimeraner owner and family were nearby, and they didn't look like very friendly campers. Pooch was nowhere in sight, probably locked away in their popup. Another dog owner had their dogs (one a big scary looking pit-bull/boxer type mix) chained up as well. I attempted to skirt around Camp Nazi's site (clearly the dude lived there in his battered RV and ancient Wagoneer), but he approached me. "Sorry I had to yell", to which my mind raced, "had to? Somebody forced you?" CN goes on to say that he'd received complaints from other campers. Weimeraner owning bastard! I confirmed I understood he was doing his job and that the kerpupples were now leashed. Then CN goes on to say how James is about to get booted for yelling at him. That "This is MY home," and that he clearly didn't appreciate being spoken to that way. His home? Excuse me? He doesn't pay for that forest. It's his workplace, not his home.

Moral of the story? Watch out for guys who live that solitary of a life. They probably do not play well with others.

Where is my MIND?

Near my house last night, I saw a young woman pushing a stroller. She was wearing a pair of trainers and a string bikini top. My first thought was, "Is that ghetto chic (also stemming from the fact that I live in a middle class tract home development that sandwiched between some, well, less than savory areas)?" My next thought was, "When did Britney Spears move to Thornton?"

I think I've been reading too many gossip rags lately. Pushing onward into Guns, Germs, and Steel tonight.

See what an a-hole

The kerpupples can see that the spousal unit and I are frazzled down to our last nerve, and are sending us off on a much-needed vacation on Saturday. Spousal unit has cleverly started pronouncing Zihuatanejo as the title of the post. It works, but I hope we don't see too many a-holes while we're there. We're staying in Ixtapa, which is an ajdacent planned-resort town similiar to but smaller than Cancun. We plan on spending a fair amount of time in Zih though - maybe keep our eyes open for Andy Dufresne or his offspring. I was suprised to see that the population is as large as it is, as Mr. King represented it as a tiny fishing village in Shawshank. But, maybe it was in the era in which Shawshank took place.

The kerpupples have decided to take the opportunity to spend time with our friend James and his 2 pooches. Though time in the presence of the kerpupples is payment in itself, we offered to bring him back a sweet mamacita should we see the opportunity. James buddy, maybe this would be one way to stick it, albeit in a very small way, to the Republican majority and their immigration focus. You could marry her and keep her here. Waddaya think?

But she's a HOO-AH!

OK, I just have to say that I pegged a subplot on the Sopranos this season. Carmela does indeed seem to be catching wind of Adriana getting whacked. I predicted that she would cause trouble about it. Based on what we've seen of her feeling listless and seeming to admire Angie the auto shop mobstrina having her own deal, I'm wondering if she might want to get into the business herself. We shall see.

Another storyline I'm still wondering whether or not I may have called deals with AJ. I thought that maybe we might see him get made before the end of the series. He certainly seems to have a desire for the money and glamour that comes along with it, and Tony has gotten him a job in "construction" (if he works as little as Finn did when he had a construction job last season, I pity AJ not at all). I'll be watching this one closely as well.

Dammit - I could be a Sopranos writer!

Flipper as a misnomer?

So according to this article and Newsweek, dolphins, are one of the three species on the planet that give their members individual names, along with the bespectacled parrotlet and homo sapiens. Newsweek claims that they also seem to repeat their own names quite frequently. Self-centered? The research seems to show that it's actually a way of communicating their state of being, a'la "George is getting angry!"

I swam with dolphins in Mexico a few years ago (I think the jury is still out as to whether this sort of activity is considered to be beneficial or detrimental to the dolphins themselves, though PETA no doubt decries it is evil), and was truly amazed to be in proximity with these beautiful creatures. You can place your ear under the water when they surround you and hear their conversations. What are they saying? "George thinks this is one funny looking thing swimming with us"? "George would ram this thing with his nose if it wouldn't cause George's fish to be withheld?" Or perhaps, "These odd finless creatures seem to be communicating with each other"? One day hopefully the code will be cracked.

No motivation

That's it...just needed to put that out there. And that includes that effed up FFF starter sentence. Got all inspired about doing a piece about Mickey Mouse making arranngements to screw someone he met in a sex chat room (321 is the Orlando area code), but couldn't get off my ass to do it.

I feel like a junkie

I work in Corporate America. In opting to veer away from the frequent travel required from life as a consultant, I took a position as a relative peon. And peons don't get to do things like have three martini lunches.

But I did. Well, not quite. I think our culture as a whole has veered away from that, which has its pros and cons. But I had a glass of wine at lunch. And was very annoyed with myself for feeling guilty and fearing getting caught afterwards. I'm a thirty-something, responsible adult. What the hell is wrong with taking a nip when I lunch with friends and coming back to the office? Smokers don't catch the same sort of flak for taking their fix, and on company grounds no less.

And why have we become such a goddamn goody-two-shoes society? Health nuts? Republicans in congress? Why is it so difficult to accept our freakin' humanity? It's unreasonable to expect to be a fat-free, Disney-watching, kink-abhorring, teetotalling, clean-mouthed infallible....robot. And we set ourselves up for disappointment in aspiring to such things. Better to accept our flaws and warts, even take the good that can arise from them.

New age hooey - now for pets!

First off, I want to qualify this observation by stating that I'm a yogini. I dig it. I'm still aspiring to get my heels all the way to the ground in downward-facing dog, because I'm a damn inflexible lass. But it has done wonders for my posture, my spinal health, ability to cope with stress, and overall well-being.

Well, some marketing wonder (I say this not entirely facetiously, because people actually pay money for this crap) deciced they needed to share the goodness that is yoga with the canine world. Hence the birth of yoga classes for dogs. Err, excuse me. Doga.

Is it really a suprise to anyone that a dog would do a pose such as upward-facing dog? The pose was named after the animal's natural stretching posture. If I didn't think it were strange and somewhat cruel, I'd be interested in seeing how a yogi coaxes a dog into, say, a warrior pose.

But I'd bet money that folks like Gwyneth and Madonna send their pooches to such classes. And therein lies the genius.

Idiots and Assholes

Today is one of those days at work. I am surrounded by idiots and assholes. I dream of the days as a successful novelist when the only idiot or asshole I have to work with is myself. Sure, there will be the editor, the agent, the publisher (assuming I am indeed succesful these folks will fall into the latter category but not the former), but those relationships shouldn't require intimate daily interaction.

Not feeling it today? Let me help you out with that. Here's some links below so that you can envelop yourself in idiots and assholes too. At no extra charge, some of them are even two-fers.

• There is no such thing as a chemical imbalance.
• Remember me? You made fun of me first!
• Looky - I can act! Waddayamean you'd rather see the sex tape?
• Teletubbies - burn in hell.
• I can't handle marble breasts - only boob I can tolerate is the one in the mirror.
• We didn't do anything immoral. We're not freaks. Stop chasing us or we'll sick our pet cheetah Billy Bob on you!

And in mocking the God Hates Fags guy, I just have to remind everyone that it's not homosexuals but shrimp that really bothers the guy behind the pearly gates.