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docoflove1974

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  1. docoflove1974

    Love Reign O'er Me

    By docoflove1974,

    When it rains, it pours. It's rained something like 5 out of the last 6 days, and will continue to rain another 6 out of the next 7. One lady I see often in the gym is starting to complain about it, seeing as how the precipitation is causing her to do all her exercise indoors rather than go for a walk. Personally, I do like walking in light rain; it brings this cool, cool water down right when you're getting a bit too warm. As long as it's not blustery or pouring (and we rarely, if ever, get freezing rain) it's actually nice to go out and splash in the puddles a bit. I guess madame didn't see it that way...nor did she stop to realize that our county board of supervisors just voted to impose mandatory water restrictions. They'll set the percentage next month--they want to see how much rain we get in the next four weeks before they set a number. Dude, I just hope we get enough rain to stave off major restrictions.
    ____________________________________________________________
     
    There's a neighbor of mine who I'm quite friendly with...he's a great guy who is really fun, intelligent and witty. Someone you like to sit on the frotn porch with and watch the world go by. He's expressed via body language his interest in me, and I've been successfully pushing him away. See, as great a guy as he is, he has a couple of extracurricular activities which the police and, in my case, the federal government don't find to be too legal--a couple of recreational habits that, while they won't completely shorten his life, they will definitely cause a few misdemeanors. I've been trying for the last couple of years to get into the State department as a Foreign Service Officer, which means that those closest to me have to keep their noses clean. Ok, so I can't control what my family does, but I can have some control over who I choose to spark up relations with. I'm going to have to tell him shortly that there's no way for us to get extra friendly...and do it in such a way that I don't come off like he has no chance in hell. I mean, he doesn't, but that doesn't mean that I have to be cruel about it.
     
    ___________________________________________________________
     
    When feeling cooped up, I often go to my favorite establishments for a couple of pints and a dinner out. My favorite place is the Gordon Biersch Brewery and Restaurant, a handful of blocks from my apartment. Love the beer, love the food...love the various TVs around which supply an endless quantity of sports. I met this guy there while I was watching a hockey game; he had a fairly involved conversation, which led to us going out for a date a few days later. Early in the date the topic of conversation revolved around work--he's a managing engineer for a major software company in the area, and I told him about my line of employment. Once those three little letters came out of my mouth (p h d), the mood of the night changed. He began using big words in his conversation, and his manner of speaking became more stiff. Then he wouldn't stop fidgetting...really nervous. I asked if there was something wrong, and he himmed and hawed a bit. Finally he admitted that he didn't think the date was going well, and he apologized for it. I took a sip of wine, took a deep breath, and took a look in his eyes. He was intimidated. Funny, I was prepared to continue our bar conversation of how the Sharks were going to dismantle the Eastern Conference during this road trip and finally get very far into the playoffs. Yet another one bites the dust. Suddenly my neighbor doesn't look like a bad option.
  2. docoflove1974

    Get On Your Boots

    By docoflove1974,

    This has been a very busy week so far, one of many in the coming 8 weeks. My schedule is in full-throttle: 5 courses, meetings galore, students adding, dropping, needing help. I actually love it--to put it mildly, I don't have time to be bored--but it's ruining my reputation. Normally I'm an evening person...most of my energy comes after 3pm, and it's damned near impossible for me to fall asleep before 11:30 or, really, 12. But having to wake up at 5:30 each weekday morning, well, it puts a damper on that whole night-owl image. Last night I came back home from the night class at 8:30, and was wiped out...I barely stayed awake until 11. This just won't do. An acquaintance hipped me in on fish oil, that it helps with the mental synapses that get overfired when we're up and doing a lot of things for a long period of time. I need to try this.
     
    Regardless, this semester I seem to have a great group of students, no dead weights as a friend calls them. These would be the folks who show up to class when they feel like it, participate when they want, and could give a care less about their grade. I tend to weed most all of them out by the first or second class; I don't teach easy classes, and I don't ever want my students thinking that they can sit and do nothing and still pass. But occasionally there's one or two who figure they can charm their way into making class easier for them--if I smile and compliment the professor, maybe she'll not care that I'm talking in the back of class to my friends and texting my homies at the same time. Um, nah, not gonna happen. They tend to drop about half-way through the class. It leaves me with the workers, those who want to learn and earn their grades, and that's just fine with me. Separating the chaff from the wheat, so to speak.
     
    The weather here has returned to winter: cool and rainy for the next few days. I'm kinda happy about it, if for no other reason than the fact that I can wear my black leather knee-high boots. Yes, I love me some shoes, and despite a fixed income I still manage to get bang for my buck. Ok, my shoes serve many functions--I walk around in them all day so they must be comfortable, yet stylish as I don't ever want to be mistaken for the mousy bookworm who could care less about image. Dude, I stand in front of people all day long...I gotta look good. Not perfect--that's not obtainable for me--but well-put-together. And I hate always wearing pants on rainy days...so while I spent a little more on these boots than normal, I don't really care. I like them, I want them...they're mine!
  3. docoflove1974

    Crash

    By docoflove1974,

    There are certain sounds that hit when we're helpless to do anything except pray. Among them are the sounds of screeching tires directly behind you. It happened to me twice today. Both times--once going to work, the other coming home--I was stopped in traffic, not able to go anywhere. Both times I had a split second to look up at the rear-view mirror and gasp.
     
    Both times the drivers swerved just in time to avoid me and go into the next lane. Accidents averted.
     
    I thought about this for a while...there wasn't much I could have done, save for brace for impact. I'm sure most all of us have done it...you're driving, the brakelights in front of you instantly shine their warnings to all behind them...and for whatever reason you pick them up a hair late. You slam your foot (maybe even both feet) down onto the break pedal, hoping to be able to stop your vehicle in time. You swerve into the next lane--hopefully it's the emergency lane--and narrowly avoid disaster. You practically give yourself a heart attack...and you probably gave the person in front of you one, too.
  4. docoflove1974

    Lasagna, anyone?

    By docoflove1974,

    At the very last meeting of my Monday night class last semester, we got talking about food. One student was having issues with lasagna...loved to eat it, hated to make it because she didn't really know what to do. Evidently, she was raised on Stoffer's, not on fresh. I said I often make it when I have people coming over, and she asked for the recipe. I chuckled...my 'recipe' for lasagna is done on the fly, much like my 'recipes' for minestrone, spaghetti sauce, chili, and a few other soups. I know what I want in there...the measurements are 'whatever looks right'. But, she asked, so I figured I'd have to make a pan of lasagna with the intention of writing down the recipe.
     
    (My mother, by the way, HATES this...she wants to know how I do things, and my only response is, "uh, well, you know, when it looks right...when it tastes right." She's a great cook--and a great teacher--but doesn't trust herself to not follow a recipe save for a couple of things. She really could do it, but she wants the comfort of a recipe. Me? Yes, I have plenty of recipes and cookbooks, but a lot of what I do is creative process, most of the time tasting pretty good.)
     
    I've been telling everyone around here for a week: Saturday night I'm making a lasagna, c'mon over. Bring anything you want...I got the entree. Most people said they'd be around, and would come on over. No sweat...people over, brisk winter evening full of comfort food and wine (well, for me).
     
    Sun rises on a gorgeous Saturday morning...and I'm starting to get retractions. "Aw, man, something came up..." "Sorry, dude, I promised...." blah blah blah. Eh, to hell with them. I'm making the lasagna, I'm writing down what I do, and anyone who misses is going to be lacking some damned good food.
     
    (To be fair, my lasagna has the flavor, but it always gets a little watery. But, hey, it's damned tasty. Work in progress, my friends.)
     
    So, tonight, Bella and I enjoyed a night to ourselves...not one soul over here. Ok, Bella didn't get any lasagna (although she was the sweetest begger you ever saw when I was opening cans of tomatoes and tomato paste). And now I have most of a pan of good stuff left over...yikes!
     
    So, uh, anyone want lasagna?
  5. docoflove1974
    Imagine this: you're a kitty, one who loves to play and spazz out while chasing anything, including your own tail. The first year or so of your life you have a big house in which you can run around, not to mention free reign of the gardens and the wild field behind the house. It's fun! (Well, when you're not being chased by the big bad bruiser Peanut, the older female feline who runs the place.) Life's pretty good. Then your owners decide to move, and they can't take you with them. But there's good news: you get to live with the owner who you love the best, or at least the one who will pay the most attention to you and who will cuddle you. She takes you away to an apartment...not so much room to play in, but at least you can look outside and chatter at the squirrels and birds. Sometimes she lets you go outside, but only if you have a stupid harness on...she's afraid you're going to run away if startled. Ok, she's probably right, but still. Eh, at least you get to go outside...when SHE wants.
     
    Ladies and gentlemen, I present: Bella, my cat.
     
    I felt really bad for her today. It's warm outside--got up to 73'F again today. It's brilliantly sunny, nary a cloud in the sky. The birds were out in full force, fooled into thinking that spring had sprung about 2 months too early. Poor Bella wanted out today in the worst way. She was aching to go out, run around in the backyard, watch the wildlife all around her, sniff the plants outside...she wanted to be free!
     
    The problem? Well, I couldn't go out and play. I had to do laundry in the morning, finish cleaning the apartment, and then was meeting a friend at the museum downtown. Bella wasn't having any of it...she was running around like a total spazz, then pacing around the back door and crying, pleading with me to open the door. She even started pacing around the CD tower where her harness is located. Alas, it did her no good...we still didn't go outside. She was not a happy kitty.
     
    On the other hand, when I came home from the museum, I brought my friend in; Wanda loves cats, and while she had heard stories of Bella, she had never 'met' her. And while Bella is normally a rather skittish cat around new people, she took to Wanda quickly, and even rolled over for a belly rub.
     
    Strange sight of the day
    As I was walking the 15 or so blocks from my apartment to the museum, I heard the railroad bells a'ringing...here comes a train. Part of the Southern (or is it Union?) Pacific line runs through downtown San Jose, along my route to the museum. So we all stop to wait...only to see the shortest train I guess one could get. It was just the engine and a tanker car. I couldn't help but chuckle.
  6. docoflove1974
    Let me tell you, folks, I had plans! First, a great steak dinner (NY Strip steak, medium rare, with sauteed green beans and a great pinot noir), followed by meeting up with neighbors for either one of two ideas: 1) hang out in the backyard bar area and be stupid drunk; or 2) go to the Japantown festivities and be stupid drunk. Either way, I had 2 bottles of Asti chilling, plenty of other potent potables to quench my thirst...to be surrounded by friends (both 'old' and 'new') to celebrate the bithday and upcoming new year. Sounds wonderful, right?
     
    Um, yeah, it was wonderful...but never happened. Well, not for me.
     
    The last few days I've been attending the Modern Languages Association convention in SF, and noticed on Tuesday that I had a tickle in my thoat. Not really sore, but something there. I purposely went to Trader Joe's and stocked up on orange juice and cherry cider, did mild workouts followed by time in the sauna...really tried to not get sick. Alas, my friends, it was to no avail.
     
    Yesterday afternoon that tickle turned into a mild sore throat. No worries...if I could just hold off until tomorrow with the full-blown whatever-this-is, hey, I could at least enjoy the evening. But by 6pm my head was pounding, my body aching, and I could feel the congestion in my chest start to build. Ok, I still have my appetite, so I cooked the dinner I wanted, but instead of wine I opted for a hot toddy; that should help me feel better, right? Um, nope. By 7:30, I had a 102'F fever, was constantly cold, and felt like utter and complete crap. Yes, folks, I was sick. Even poor Bella knew I was not feeling well; along with cuddling next to me, my little feline nurse kept sniffing and licking my face, trying to get me to feel better. I had to call my neighbor upstairs to tell him to go on and party without me...no way in hell was I going to leave my bed, save to make another toddy or to use the bathroom.
     
    Now here's the interesting part: ginger is a miracle drug.
     
    See, my neighbor upstairs is a professional bassist, and has played for numerous wonderful musicians. He knows of various wonderful remedies which at first might sound hokie, but turn out to work. The one he told me last night was of a ginger infusion (well, that's what it is...he didn't know the infusion part). It really works: it reduces the fever, it calms your body, and you feel better. You don't feel 100%, but at least you can be managable. More importantly, you'll feel much better the next morning.
     
    Now, I know that ginger does have a calming property for the digestion. It's used in parts of Asia as both a palate cleanser and a digestif; if you have stomach ailments, a ginger tea is often brewed. It works much like chamomille in that way. But, hey, why not?
     
    Here's what you do: take at least 2 good sized fingers of ginger, peel and cut into small dice. Put it into a pot of water (about 4 cups), and boil for an hour. Then mash the ginger in the water...you need to extract every ounce that you can; strain and reserve the liquid. Now you have your ginger infusion: make a cup of tea with half of ginger infusion, half regular water (chamomille works really well), a slice of lemon if you wish. Not only does the ginger infusion seem to help your throat (I didn't cough but once or twice while drinking this stuff, unlike before), but it's a restorative elixir. Seriously, within an hour my fever had already reduced by a full degree, and I could feel the fever start to go away the rest of the night.
     
    This morning I woke up (after sleeping 10 hours) with only the congestion in my chest. I'll take that, trust me. Ok, so I'm pretty phegmy today, but I've never been bothered by that. My body doesn't ache, my fever is gone, and for all intents and purposes, I'm almost at 100%. Ginger infusion works!!!
  7. docoflove1974
    My 34th year is now completed. No, I don't want presents...although if you really wish to send me something, I'm sure as hell not gonna pass it up (that'd be dumb). No, I don't want a party thrown in my honor (unless Neph is conjuring up some wonders and delights!)...I'd rather host my own and let you in on the real reason why we're all here. I'm sneaky like that.
     
    This year I have been blessed, much as in years past. Oh, sure, there were bumps in the road, but what the hell...honestly, life would be dull as watching paint dry without those twists in the road. There were some great adventures this year--some great friends made in the process--and overall I'm pleased with where I'm at. I can do better in some things, and I will, but I've improved in others. After falling off the exercise wagon, I rebounded in a huge way and am back in the losing category...in a good way. I'm working more hours than ever before...making a little more money, but not heaps more. I still live in my little studio, Bella still runs around like an eejit thereby making me guffaw. I can breathe, I can eat, I can sleep, I can use all 5 of my senses fully, I can think and speak whatever damned thing I want, I can be as bloody-minded as I want to be...yep, I've got it all.
     
    My hopes for 2009? Well, I still start off for a weeks'-worth of world peace...maybe if we all tried it for a week, we might actually like it enough to work for it on a continual basis. I still hope for a full-time, tenure-track position, but as the saying goes, you can hope in one hand and shit in the other, and see which one fills up first...I have more work that I need to do on that. Mostly, I just hope that everyone I know, and pretty much everone else, too, has a very happy and healthy 2009...that we all remain positive, because things will get better. They always do
  8. docoflove1974
    I love it when my friends say that California doesn't have winter weather. Of course it does...it's just not as extreme as it is in most places in the world. What they don't understand are the geography, the climate and the population spread in this great Golden State o'mine.
     
    California is long...very long...with at least 3 mountain ranges running along it. In fact, it's so big and long that, according to Wikipedia, if it were a country it'd be the 59th largest country in the world (for what it's worth). Along most of the coastline is the Coastal Range, which has quite a few mountains on it. Well, we call most of them 'hills', but for many they are truly mountains. There is also plenty of flat land, which is partially why most of the population lives on the coast, from the San Francisco Bay Area down to the San Diego/Tiajuana border. The weather is quite mild usually (Mediterranean, as a Spanish friend of mine says), although the further south you go, the warmer it tends to get in the summer...and the further north you go, the wetter and colder it gets. But there are peaks around here which will get a dusting of snow in the winter, when the precipitation comes 'round and the temps get freezing cold--see for example Mt. Hamilton (from the Lick Observatory), Mt. Tamalpais, or Mt. Diablo.
     
    In the middle is (appropriately enough) the Central Valley...the fertile agricultural capital of the world, or so it seems. Also it's where our state capital, Sacramento, is. It gets very rainy there in the winter, and can get quite cool. There is an occasional freeze in the winter, but it doesn't happen often...when it does, the farmers bellyache (and rightly so).
     
    Along the eastern edge of the Great State, two mountain ranges hold their place. The Cascade Range starts in California and goes northward into Oregon and the like. Not much to say about that, except that Mt. Shasta is technically part of this range, and it's quite a site to behold. The main one, though, is the Sierra Nevada...and it's the right monicker, as the mountains in the winter are constantly covered with snow. It's the winter playground for millions--Lake Tahoe and Yosemite are both part of this range, as is Big Bear. Yes, folks, there's quite a bit of winter weather up there, which is why the 1960 Winter Olympics were held at Squaw Valley.
     
    Ok, so most of us on the coast don't have to worry about blizzards every other day, or bitter cold, or even driving rain for months on end. I get it. But, seriously, we do have winter weather here. It's just better
  9. docoflove1974

    The inevitable

    By docoflove1974,

    It took 14 weeks...14 weeks of students who were so stubborn and, in some cases, ignorant...who continuously come to class despite being severely under the weather. And in this case, the maladies mostly revolved around strep throat and bad colds.
     
    Yep, 14 weeks of my immune system fighting the tough battles. Of waging war against those horrific germs who were trying to invade my temple.
     
    Finally...I have become collateral damage in that war against the ill-feelings that are typical with the changes in the temperatures.
     
    Ok, that's being overly dramatic, even for me. I really don't get sick. Even my colds are relatively mild; they'll sap some of my energetic zing, leave me congested and with a bit of a sore throat, but really it's not that bad. But it's definitely annoying.
     
    Last night the sore throat started, and was in full force this morning as I woke up. Raw as can be, the pain going from my throat to my soft palate. But no fever, no real aches, and as the day went on a slight sinus headache did arise...but nothing like what I've had in the past. Advil and Riccola...that's the remedy for the day. Lots of tea. A hot Toddie at night (sheer bliss), and a shot of Robitussin before bed. Guaranteed I'll be better in the morning. Well, I won't sound like it; I'll probably be congested, but the throat will be better (gee, might I have to go to the gym tomorrow and sit in the steam room? Shucks...). These things are usually pretty quick with me.
     
    And the best part? Today was the last day of review for one campus...hardly any talking for my part. I don't teach tomorrow, but I have a make-up final exam to give. So a relaxing weekend is coming up, and I dare say I'm ready for it!
  10. docoflove1974
    ...if you wait long enough, the latest installment of your favorite Brit show will be on BBC America. But it might take a while.
     
    That's right, folks, series 11 starts showing here in the States on Monday...except that I'll be teaching, getting home just in time to watch the very very last episode of "Boston Legal," my absolute favorite show on TV right now. 2 hour finale, starts as I get out of class, so I'll be missing the first half hour or so.
     
    Only a couple more weeks, and then I'll have my weeknights to myself, if only for 5 weeks.
  11. docoflove1974
    Quite honestly, there were two spot-on sitcoms of the 90s which turned the excesses and pretentiousness of the 80s on their ears. One was Seinfeld, the other was Absolutely Fabulous. And I love them both.
     
    Admittedly, I love AbFab, and will continue to watch it on BBC America or Comedy Central whenever it's on. There are various stand-out episodes which seems to rise above the other exemplary episodes of the series. But the one which seems to come on right before my family gets together is when Eddie and Pats go off to France to 'get away from everything'...of course, neither one really looks at a map, neither one speaks French, and Saffie (and Bubble, natch) have to come in and save the day. Perhaps the most hilarious part is when [ur]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6r_JnGUexsw]Eddie and Pats go wine tasting at the chateau[/url]. Not only is the scene typical of Edina Monsoon and Patricia Stone, it's just damned funny.
     
    My family and I have a history with wine, a good one. Mom comes from a long line of bartenders; Dad sold wine (and eventually spirits) for a couple of major distributors. I've imbibed from the fruit of the vine since a babe. Every time we get together the wine flows.
     
    Ok, this time the episode didn't air before Thanksgiving, and I had to look it up on YouTube. On the other hand, my friend and I are about to go wine tasting here in town at an enoteca (I love how people must say a fancy foreign word for a basic concept...it's a wine bar, folks!). Thank God light rail takes me there, and it's a 2 block walk from my house...I have a feeling we're going to be reinacting this scene, albeit with much less expensive wine.
  12. docoflove1974
    I love it once mid-November rolls around. People actually start caring about each other and acting upon it. Ok, it should happen all year long, of course, but some is better than none, I guess.
    _______________________________________________________________
     
    The other day a local news channel did a story about how food and money donations at the local food banks was horrifically low, so low that Thanksgiving turkeys were either in short supply or non-existent; at one major food bank in Oakland they were handing out Thanksgiving chickens. To put it mildly, it didn't sound right.
     
    Now, I personally am not much for the Mission band of Indians; they have a chokehold on the Indian casinos in this state, and have a reputation of touting all the wonders they do with the hard-earned cash of gamblers. Someone I know has said on numerous occasions that they exploit gamblers, and don't give nearly enough of a percentage back to the state, or to the other tribes; indeed, there are various rumors that they don't give up their fair share of earnings to the other various tribes in the state, in accordance with the pact that they negotiated with the state. My cynical mind goes into overdrive with them.
     
    But I have to give them and Costco credit on this one. They saw the newspiece on the food banks, and made a massive donation. 200 turkeys, plus money for another 200 more, to that one Oakland food bank, plus other food banks are receiving donations, too, thanks to the attention paid to their shortage.
     
    The best comment came from someone in the video picking up his turkey meal...he was close to tears, enormously grateful for the generosity of others. His family would have a reltaively normal Thanksgiving, despite his being out of work. 'Tis the season of giving.
     
    __________________________________________________________________
    I got paid today (it's the last working day of the month), and did my usual 1 Dec. donations. I have a list of them, including the local food banks. It's a tradition, where I save up after summer expenditures and start my donation season early. Oh, it's never much...a few bucks here and there. I don't have many on my list, but I know that so many of these non-profits need help, and in particular in a year like this.
     
    A student yesterday commented at how many calls and notices she's received from charities--quite a few, more than usual, she says. Her main comment was along the lines of, "why can't these people leave me alone? Don't they know that in this economy no one has money to spare???" I just let that one go.
     
    ____________________________________________________________________
     
    Among the things this year that I'm thankful for (or, what I'm continually thankful for):

    I'm alive, with all parts in working order, living in a society which allows me the freedom to do and say as I pretty much please;
    My family and friends are not only alive and well, but all with jobs and all with finances in order;
    My colleagues at work who not only find it their duty to inform us of what's going on with budget issues, but give us options and multiple scenarios whenever possible (even if the bleeping legislature doesn't). It seems that everyone is working triple-overtime to make sure that as few people as possible are to be affected by the mandatory budget cuts, as ordered by the state;
    My students, who continuously give me the energy and the ganas* to want to work; and
    The ability to continue my adventures, and the avenues to continue my lifelong learning journey.
    Whether or not you celebrate a "Thanksgiving" holiday, I wish you the best for the future, and hope for nothing but good fortune for you.
     
    *ganas doesn't have a great translation--in Spanish, it more or less means 'gumption', but it's more than that. It's that every fiber of your being wants (or doesn't) something.
  13. docoflove1974
    (**Warning...venting allert. No advice necessary, just need to pout and mope. All is well, I promise!**)
     
    My dad picked the wrong week to go on vacation. Dammit.
     
    Usually when I have questions on certain subjects, I go to him. One is physiology. Not because he's a doctor or has any medical training whatsoever. Instead, he's someone who has done a ton of reading, has felt pain of pretty much every position on the spectrum, and is a logical person. He's the person who taught me that not everything needs a pill to make it better...in fact, most things don't need a pill. Rest, ice, heat, refraining from certain activities...you know, common sense.
     
    I have pre-arthritic conditions in most of my joints. Translated into English, I've got crappy joints, due to being a tomboy who grew a full foot in 2 years. Pretty much since the age of 11 I've had bad knees in particular, and most of my other joints creak, crack, and the like. While most of the time it's no big deal, when I change my exercise routine, wear my high heels too often, or other such pressures on my joints, I tend to feel it. But I've learned over the years to block the pain mentally, do stretches, and for me the use of glucosamine has helped quite a bit (although it doesn't work for everyone...don't know why, but it doesn't). I'm used to this...in fact, it feels pretty good to crack my ankles, as not doing it leaves them a little stiff. From the start I've had to change activity levels, figure out what I can do and what's off the table...and constantly change it. When I was heavier, I constantly complained about my knees. Funny how losing weight and becoming active aliviates the pain most of the time.
     
    Anyway, for the past couple of weeks my left knee (the more problematic one) has been overly stiff...and there's a swollen area in the back. When I went in for a massage, the masseuse pinpointed the location...typcially, it's the ligaments and tendons which are the problem children, which is the story of my life. Yesterday I went to the gym for a typical workout, and decided to test out the knee more than usual. I purposely did movements and exercises which forced me to push off my left leg, to test the strength...yeesh, not much there. Tried stretching, but that didn't help. I've iced down my knee to the point that it might be permanently blue, but I'm not sure that it's made much of a difference. But the odd part is that there is zero pain in general, and only a twinge when I do certain movements, which is normal...yet I can feel the swollen stiffness. I need to pick my dad's brain...he knows me well, and can help me out.
     
    And where's Dad? With Mom, celebrating their 35th wedding anniversary (which is today), reliving their honeymoon in the same resort in Acapulo, Mexico, that they went to 35 years ago. I have to wait a week for 'an appointment'. Same as a doctor, no less, but less BS in the result.
  14. docoflove1974
    There are certain smells that just call to us as individuals. Some come from outside--the smell of sweet jasmine in the summer, or of freshly-cut grass. Some come from the inside of an oven, or on top of a stove...perhaps even on a grill. These scents awaken our olfactory system, setting our bodies in motion for a culinary experience which is second to none. Oh, perhaps it revolves around a 5-star feast that would make any gourmand melt into a pile of goo, but more often than not these gastronomic creations come not just from the home, but from the heart. In a phrase, I'm talking comfort food.
     
    I have two dishes which will tug at my stomach strings in ways that nothing else can.
     
    One is a good spaghetti gravy...or, for those of you who are not of the Italian-American persuasion, I'm talking about a tomato rag
  15. docoflove1974
    What's a girl to do? I've got leftovers of a seasoned long-grain and wild rice mix (which is excellent), and I don't really want a ton to eat. Well, you create new culinary delights!
     
    Ok, that's going overboard...but somehow I got in my head that a Mediterranean Fried Rice was in order.
     
    I've been making fried rice for years...it's actually really easy, but requires regular rice, either white or brown. Wild rice does not make for good fried rice, at all...it's too chewy, and doesn't absorb much more than it already has. Basically, one has to pair this well, and make it so that your 'additions' are ready to sit in the pan for like 5 minutes, tops, or the wild rice will be gross. But I didn't really know what to do with this stuff, and thought, well, why the hell not? What's the worst that happens...I have to toss it because it's revolting?
     
    So...out with the egg omlet, and in with the mushrooms. Out with the ginger and green onions, and in with the leek. Out with the Chinese 5 spice powder, in with the pasta seasoning (which has the fennel and paprika that I needed). Out with the soy sauce, and in with the basalmic vinegar...very sparingly, might I add. Out with the sesame oil as garnish, and in with the kalamata olives.
     
    It's not bad...not bad at all. Actually, as I sit here post-meal, I can taste lingering effects of the sweet balsamico, the briny olives, and the peppery spices. The rice is chewy, but in a good way, and there's a crispy rice bit every once in a while. Overall, a pretty good experiment!
     
    When people bitch and moan about cooking, about how it's time consuming, I point to stuff like this. From prep to sit-down, I was in the kitchen for 15 minutes. That's it! Granted, I have a stocked pantry and fridge--I'm never without mushrooms and leeks once the autumnal equinox rolls around--but a lot of it was thinking about what I wanted this to taste like, and using the skills I have. It's not hard, it's just practice.
     
    Now...there's a bit left in the pan...and I want seconds...'scuse me
  16. docoflove1974
    For the record: I'm a moderate Independent, one who is completely undecided. I didn't vote for either of these candidates in the primaries; Independents in California only had open access to the Democrat ballot, and not the Republican, so I gave no vote either way.
    ___________________________________________
     
    I really enjoyed listening to this first Presidential debate. Some of the items were to be expected: Obama linking McCain to Dubbya, while McCain consistently saying that Obama was inexperienced. Knowing a bit about McCain's political history, I found him to be subdued; I've always seen him as more of a hawk (although a less aggressive one), and he didn't seem so hawk-ish on the combat issues. To be straight-forward, I thought Obama proved himself to understand the issues clearly, and gave several specific points to make changes; on the other hand, McCain came off as condescending frequently, and often talked of generalities.
     
    Who won? Eh, I think Obama had the edge, but it's slight. But that's just my view.
     
    As of now, my mind is not made up, and I don't think it will be for a while. I'm really pissed off at the selection of Sarah Palin as VP for McCain; it makes me not want to vote for him, and I don't view that as a strong reason for voting for (or against) someone. One would hope that she'd be a reinvention of Dan Quayle--one who exists, but does nothing. Still, she bothers me quite a bit, and it may end up swinging my vote. I'm half curious about the upcoming Veep Debate; I have a feeling I'll be a rubbernecker at that massive accident, around just to watch the carnage.
     
    I'm curious about anyone else's thoughts, both American and otherwise. I can't wait to read the BBC take on it, as well as various other international news outlets. But I'd really like to hear from anyone on here, too.
  17. docoflove1974
    At 10ish this morning, my phone beeped at me...another news bite from the Associate Press. Thank God I was just walking, and not driving or chopping vegetables when I read this:
     
    Paulson states that the economic crisis is "embarrassing to the United States of America."
     
    The full quote is here (click here for the full article), with the emphasis being mine:
     
    It was an interesting reaction that sprung forth from me as I read that initial news blurb, and then later the article. Fury and laughter at once.
     
    The laughter came quicker...emerging from the audacity of such a statement. Seriously...the economic crisis is embarrassing??? Or that Paulson and his boys are embarrassed for having fouled up the entire situation, and they make it seem like it's other people's fault.
     
    To be fair, they didn't personally sign over the loan money to millions of Americans. Nor did they personally extend credit to people who perhaps were not the greatest of candidates. Nor did they personally cut the golden parachutes to the CEOs who bailed out of their floundering companies. No, no they didn't.
     
    But what did they do? They allowed the wheels to go into motion. They allowed such lending practices to be in place and, more importantly, turned a blind eye when the various financial institutions hawked ARMs and other such lending programs to people as if it's nothing but cotton candy and kettle corn. The housing market is just like a carnival...it's fun! Everyone wants to go! You want to have a home, right? So let's get you set up! No money down, or very little anyway! Oh, that small print? Nevermind...here's a toaster.
     
    Like a flash of lightning, the laughter at the ridiculousness of the statement turned into fury. I'm sitting there, reading the article and praying that one of my older students comes into class--this way, I can talk to someone who has seen as much, if not more, of life than I have. All I could think about was how "embarrassing" our current state of affairs is. Embarrassing???
     
    Seriously???
     
    Embarrassing is the fact that many college students can't afford textbooks, and rely on state and federal programs to pay for them...just to be able to study, to earn a degree and complete their dreams.
     
    Embarrassing is the fact that because of both good and bad loans, the average American has payments through the nose, and in many cases are going without.
     
    Embarrassing is the fact that the student council at my campus is putting together a food drive...to help out fellow students who have no money for food.
     
    Embarrassing is the number of Americans who cannot afford health insurance; they make too much to qualify for Cal-Med (or the equivalent of their state), but not enough to afford even the most basic of plans.
     
    Embarrassing is the number of people in my STATE who are losing their homes, their jobs, and their lives simply because the cost of living is rising, they are wallowing in debt, and have no hope or confidence.
     
    That, Secretary Paulson, is embarrassing. And F U for making that statement.
     
    _________________________________________________________________________________
     
    Ok, taking a step aside, I will admit that most of the people I talk to don't really know their credit scores, don't honestly have a clue what a budget looks like, let alone how one works. I get that, really. But the damned financial institutions that allowed so many of these irresponsible loans to go out should have also known this, forseen the chaos that potentially arises from this, and done something about it. Instead, the overzealous wolves went after the yummy sheep--the money--hoping that all would work out. Uh, yeah. A bit too risky, doncha think?
     
    The buck used to stop here, so to speak. Where is it going to stop now?
  18. docoflove1974
    First, an eye-opener for all you men out there: we women talk a ton of trash. About our significant others (both temporary and permanent). About others. And honestly, I can't tell you who's worse, men or women.
     
    The scene:
    I'm in the changing room of my gym, getting dressed to go home, and I overhear a conversation in the next row of benches. It's two women, both lesbians, talking about their conquests from the previous night, and the hopes for the weekend. On and on for quite a few minutes about these women they slept with the night before, every bit as detailed as a *or* film. Now, personally, I could give a rat's ass which gender you fancy...really. But I've never been one to like conversations of how the latest notch was put in the proverbial bedpost, no matter the gender of the story-teller or of the participant(s). It was just how I was raised...your private life is just that: private.
     
    So, I'm getting dressed, and there's another woman in my row doing the same. I don't know her from Eve. We both overhear the 'nightly activities' of the ladies next door, and look at each other. So this other woman whispered to me, "What is your name?" I told her, and then she uttered the following retort:
     
    "Ya know, Sarah, my husband was so damned horny last night...gawd, we went on and on and on and on. It's amazing, cuz, you know, he's lost all this weight and is in fighting form again. We're humping like rabbits!"
     
    Before I could continue the charade, the lesbians leave the locker room, glaring at us like we just seriously popped their balloon.
     
    The entire area started busting up in laughter. Ann did well!!!
    ______________________________________________________________________
    (not to copy Caldrail, but...)
     
    Amazing compliment of the day:
    As I leave the gym, I hold the door open for the guy behind me. He's probably late 50s or early 60s, and perhaps looked a little grouchy. When I hold the door open, he genuinely says, "Thanks!" "No problem," I reply, as usual. We get outside, the fog has lifted, and the aquamarine sky was glowing...a drastic difference than what it was like 1 1/2 hours beforehand. I couldn't help myself but to comment.
     
    "Wow, the fog's gone! How gorgeous!"
     
    The guy looks at me. "What a breath of fresh air you are! Everyone's moping around, and you're commenting on a beautiful day! Outstanding!"
     
    Very cool guy...and it's Friday. Ya damned right that I'm going to enjoy the day.
  19. docoflove1974
    In the figurative sense:
     
    Tuesdays are my long days at one campus: 11am class, follwed by office hours in the afternoon, followed by a 6pm class...get home about 9:30ish. Anyway, I usually eat at the school canteen for lunch, since it's easier to bring one meal instead of two, and after 3pm the pickings are rather slim. Anyway, I'm at a table in the common area, really only paying attention to my Turkey Ciabatta sandwich, when I hear the following conversation:
     
    Dude: Wow, I could murder that sandwich...I'm so starving!
    Chick: So go get one...ugh...whatever.
    [time lapses]
    Dude: Uh, yeah, I'm gonna go get that sandwich.
     
    This is followed by the biggest, most snot-filled snort I've heard in forever. And mind you, it's 75'F outside, sunny, breezy...maybe allergies are at play, but this sounded more like the dead-of-winter cold-induced snort. Needless to say, I was put off my lunch.
     
    In the literal sense:
    This past Sunday at the Farmer's Market there were these awesome varigated nectarines. They don't really get soft and juicy, so they crunch like an apple, but they get quite sweet. So I finally am able to dive into one today...and see a small worm enjoying life. Needless to say, I was put off my dinner.
  20. docoflove1974
    It's hard to come up with a 'favorite month', but if I had to, it'd be August. Let's weigh the facts:
     

    PRODUCE!!! The tomatoes right now are unreal...just the most amazing thing ever. I know people swear that canning tomatoes helps 'seal in the goodness,' but even the most awesome canned tomatoes pale in comparison to the goodness at my farmers' market right now. Holy Christ, I eat them as fruit. And that's nothing to say for the peaches and nectarines (surprising, as we didn't get quite that much rain this year), the corn (absolutely to die for!), the cucumbers...oh Lord, I can't stop! Two weeks ago I bought too much...my eyes and my nose were way bigger than my menus. But it's been fun to create different salads, sides, and mains with the veggies I have.
    Weather: Now starts some of the best weather in the San Francisco Bay Area. Warm during the day, hot inland, but with a cool breeze once the sun goes down, and the fog rolling in, covering us with that cool blanket.
    Start of school: Ok, I'm a bit sadistic, but I love my job. As I told a neighbor recently, I get paid for doing what I love: talking, thinking, and helping people learn. How in the hell is this bad? Ok, it'd be great if I did this with a single full-time position, but it could be a lot worse. I love the schedule, I love the interaction with new students, and I love working with my colleagues. I don't like vague instructions from state and federal groups telling us they want 'data' and 'outcomes'...and then not really giving us a concrete idea as to what we want. Just in my department alone, you have 2 PhDs, a former software engineer, and two researchers...we know what data are...and how nebulous they can be. Clearly they want results...so here they are! What do they mean? Oh...didn't get that far yet....
    August is the start of change in the academic world...new full-time positions start to pop up...new academic years start...new hires come in and add to the department...new students come in with new questions and new perspectives on assignments. Some say the calendar starts anew in January...I say it starts in August.
  21. docoflove1974
    Ok, I'm back. Here's the gist of things:
     
    Wednesday: we all get in around 9am, take the shuttle to our hotel in Queens. Since we can't check in yet, we decide to change and take the subway out to Yankee Stadium. The bad news: since we have bleacher seats that day, we can't tour around the rest of the stadium, but that's ok. The game went well--Yankees won convincingly--and the bleachers were just as I love them: great crowd of people, lots of kids, and a good time all around. (And no alcohol sales in the bleachers at Yankee Stadium? Seriously?) Actually, one element which was a bit dour: a young 20ish woman came in and sat behind us, plastered (or, as I term it, chemically altered), with her friend in tow. She was completely incoherent--prolly high more than drunk--and going on and on and on and on. Communism, freedom of speech...there were a few topics touched upon. There were several day camps in our section, and this 'lovely lady' was cussing a blue streak for no reason. She was ultimately 'asked to leave' (aka kicked out), and her friend could not have been more embarrassed. Otherwise, loved the bleachers! But my mom, my brother and I were so tired from the red-eye and running around that we didn't go to dinner at the swanky Manhattan joint we planned...instead we opted for the hotel, a shower, and going down the street to a steakhouse. Great dinner, but we were beat! Early bed time.
     
    Thursday: ok, this part is well explained by Neph. Neph is by far one of the coolest chicas I've ever met, and I can't wait to get back to NYC for a proper tour. My mom got the biggest kick out of her and John, and we both agree that they were awesome tourguides. After we left her, Mom and I met up with my brother at Yankee Stadium. We got there as the gates opened and went to Monument Park. For those who don't know, they have shrines for Yankee greats, both retired numbers of players and plaques noting their accomplishments. It's a beautiful tribute to baseball players (and some front-office people) of yore. Another good game--Yankees lost by a lot--and we got back to the hotel late. Shower, and sleep...a long drive the next day!
     
    Friday: 4 hour drive to Cooperstown, NY, to the Baseball Hall of Fame. And what a place! If you even like baseball, let alone love it like we do, it's a must-see. Cooperstown is truly a small town, common to upstate New York. The HOF is not that big a building and complex, but it's amazing what they have. They have relics and pieces from the earliest days of the game (late 1800s), plus pieces from the most famous moments and players of the game. The hall with the plaques of those enshrined was by far the most touching...I found myself tearing up at those recently-inducted who have supplied me with an entire childhood of memories. But still, to read the plaques of Babe Ruth, Ty Cobb, Joe DiMaggio, Ted Williams, Willie Mays, and so many, many more, well, honestly there isn't a word for it. If you love a sport, to go to it's 'hall of fame' is truly breathtaking. This was no different. So, after spending a few hours there, we had dinner in town and went back to our hotel room the next town over.
     
    Saturday: woke up to...DOWNPOURING RAIN!!! That was fun (not). But got out ok, and had a 3 1/2 hour drive to Boston. We thought we out-ran the rain, and we did, but when we had to go to the game at Fenway Park, it caught up with us. Eh, it's all good...a $10 plastic poncho worked well. Anyway, we stayed on Beacon Street, not far from the park, and enjoyed a beautiful evening once the rain cleared. Bleacher seats again in Fenway, and it was WAY better. No offense, Yankee Fans, but "Sawx" Fans have you beat. Very lively crowd (in a good way), tons of fun...felt like I was back at AT&T Park watching my Giants. (With beer sales! Wooooooooo!) Red Sox won (and beat the snot outta my brother's A's...HA HA!), and we went back to the hotel.
     
    Sunday (today): woke up, got out of bed, ran a comb across my head...oops, sorry, Paul. Anyway, went to the airport to leave. We all had noon-time flights--Mom flew back on a different airline than my brother and I. We ended up volunteering to be bumped, and got a $300 voucher and first-class all the way back home for the trouble...but we got in at the same time as we would have. So now I have $300 to spend on American Airlines...hmmmmmmmmmmm....
     
    So, when I have time, I'll post more pictures. Gotta combine them with the ones my mom and I took with her camera, and those of my brother. It was an outstanding trip, but I'm weary. Tomorrow I gotta buy food (ack! the cupboard's bare!) and pick up my cat from the boarder. But I am without words to describe the entire trip...it was spectacular!
  22. docoflove1974
    If you are a baseball fan, you are about to be immediately jealous of my vacation trip this year. If you're any kind of sports fan, you also might turn a bit green. For the rest of you, I will explain. My mother, my brother Matt and I are about to embark on a trip to the Shrine and two of the Temples of Major League Baseball.
     
    Tuesday night: we take the red-eye to New York, get in Wednesday morning.
    Wednesday: afternoon game at Yankee Stadium (vs. the Baltimore Orioles)
    Thursday: night game at Yankee Stadium (vs. the Angels)
    Friday: drive to Cooperstown, and go to the Baseball Hall of Fame
    Saturday: drive to Boston, night game at Fenway Park (vs. the Oakland A's)
    Sunday: fly home
     
    Now, to put this in perspective, Matt and I have talked about doing this trip for years. YEARS. The impetus this year is that it's the last year of Yankee Stadium, the House that Ruth Built. Next year the new one opens up next door, and while the Yankees organization is doing a first-class job on it, it's still not the original home of Ruth, Joe D., Gehrig, Yogi, Mantle, Munster, Mattingly, Jeter, Rivera...you get the picture. So he decided that this was the year to do the trip. And so we are.
     
    The only drawback is that we don't have much time to spend in town...in any of the towns. And while we at least get a day in NYC (and a HUGE thank you to Neph who's been helping us figure out what we're going to do, and will play hostess), we all wish it really was more. But, this is a baseball trip, dammit! I'll be scoring the games, we'll all have our radios to listen to the game (something which we all do at every game we go to)...the ritual is to have a hot dog and a beer the first game at a stadium, and this will be performed. In general, I will be in reverence and in awe.
     
    So, the next (and final) dilemma is whether or not to pack my mitt. I mean, it's a tradition here in San Francisco to bring your glove...you have to, be you chronologically a kid or an adult. Then I hear that in many places that it's looked upon as childish. Right now, I think it's going to be down to how much room I have in my carry-on.
     
    The countdown is on...I'm about to pay hommage to the Baseball Gods.
  23. docoflove1974
    Ok, I made that up...but I decided that I was going to do something different the next time that I make a burger. I'd make 2 and stack them!
     
    Before you start wondering about the possible expanding waistline, no, I'm not doubling up on the meat. I usually buy ground chuck in bulk and portion it out to 1/2 lb. chunks, and will have a 1/2 lb. burger. Also, I don't usually have my burger on a bun...never cared for it, really, and I'd rather have more meat and other stuff.
     
    So, plan of attack: make a double burger with the usual 1/2 lb. of meat, but make it different. This ain't your granny's burger!
     
    The meat was prepared as always: a pinch of salt, a few cracks of pepper, and a couple of dashes of worcestershire sauce. I made two patties, maybe only 1/4 inch thick...I wanted them thin, so I could actually eat the darned thing. I usually let the patty (or, in this case, patties) sit for a few minutes to soak up the seasonings, and in the meantime, I turned my attention to the accoutrement.
     
    I have a complete affinity for sauteed onions and mushrooms, and figured that both would be good on the burger. But how would I stack it? Would I use both? Or have one on the side? Decisions, decisions...all of which I made as I sauteed the two in some olive oil.
     
    Then I had it: the onions would go between the patties, along with the slice of cheese (both for taste and as a 'glue'). The mushrooms on the side, to be eaten at my leisure. Genius! One of those so-called 'stuffed burgers', but with the meat actually cooked and done to my liking!
     
    Once the veggies were done, I went to brown up the patties. Not too much...I wanted a 'crust' on the outsides, but a juicy burger inside. When ready, I did the stack: meat, cheese, sauteed onions, meat. YUM!
     
    On the side, I had some 4 bean relish, which really is more like a salad. I made this yesterday, and it has been marinating in the fridge since. I know I won't be able to eat all of the salad before I'm sick of it, but I figure it's a great source of protein and fiber, plus very low in fat...therefore a great side during a week that is supposed to heat up. (By the by, peppadews are a Cajun marinated pepper, much like pepperoncini but there's a hair of sugar in the pickling liquid. If you find them, they'll be in the deli area where one gets olives. The recipe suggests using roasted red peppers if you can't find them, and I'd say do half the amount as the roasted red pepeprs, the other half as pepperoncini.) Oh, and the sauteed mushrooms, of course.
     
    Dessert, you ask? Oh, in a bit I'll have some lemon sorbet, with some cherry preserves that I just made up this afternoon. Tell me that I'm not enjoying my Saturday!
  24. docoflove1974
    So I'm in the dressing room of the gym, after a good workout, and I'm stripping off to go into the showers. Now, if one were to look at pictures of me, even if they only saw my face, they would guess (and correctly so) that I am prolifically freckly. Indeed, previous boyfriends have kidded around that they could play connect-the-dots on my body, and would be amused for hours. 'Tis true. Freckles and moles are all over, and have been since I was a babe. I have been made aware of my sensitive skin and the use of sun block for literally decades, and pretty much know what to look for should anything go south. It took a while, but hey, I'm used to it, and it's part of who I am.
     
    Anyway, I digress.
     
    Some random woman came up to be as I was finishing the undressingroutine, tapped me on the shoulder, and said the following: "Oh, honey, you should have those spots looked at. You can't be too careful!"
     
    Now, here's the part that grills me: not even my best friend would say this. Yet a middle aged, slightly overweight stranger will come up to me out of the blue, and SHE will say this.
     
    I'm sans clothes, glaring at this amateur dermatologist, and snapped right back at her.
     
    "Do you always give such impromptu diagnoses to random strangers?" (That was the closest to "F*** off!" that I was willing to go at that time.)
     
    "Oh, no, but I just love to give advice!" (Gee, ain't she sweet?)
     
    "Are you a dermatologist?" (I had half a thought...I mean, you never know.)
     
    I swear to Christ this is what she said, with a giggle in her voice: "No, but I play one on tv." Yep, that stupid joke line.
     
    I'm trying to be on my best behavior...this is a nice athletic club, and I really don't want to piss off the fellow members as I ream this airhead a new one, letting fly a long blue streak. I'm trying, really. So the best I could do was shoot her a malocchio and say, "I think I'll go with the advice of my real dermatologist, thanks." And with that, I headed off to the showers.
     
    As I walked home from the gym, I called my dad. He couldn't stop laughing. To him, this was the funniest thing he had heard in a week. I'm glad my life amuses him. On the other hand, I'm not upset, just beyond annoyed that some pazza luna, as my grandmother would say, felt the need to play doctor, and not in the way that I like. I tells ya....
  25. docoflove1974
    *Taking off the Dr. John hat and feathers for a moment*
     
    First, one must read this: Judge in hot water over Web site sex links
     
    So, basically, California is a laughing stock, and our beloved 9th District Court of Appeals is up to usual shennanigans. Just google them, and see how idiotic they are, in general.
     
    There is much that comes to mind when I see/read this. But what slays me is this:
     
     
    I'm sorry...how does one not know what's on one's website??? Oh, and then this beaut...
     
     
    What the f*&)((&* hell is your kid (I don't care how old) uploading shit onto your site...and you're a bleeding judge??? How does one not know what content is on one's site????? Where do you draw the line? How about telling your kid that dude needs help, and taking the proverbial keys away!
     
    Christ, where to start....
     
    *Trapses back to the keyboard...puts the Dr. John hat and feathers back on...*
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