How easy would it be to win the “Worst Cook in America” title?  I was recently watching this show on the Food Network, and it occurred to me that this would be really easy to win.  You see it’s all based on improvement.  You get your friends and family to say you can’t boil water.  You fudge a few recipes, and then ta da…you become a decent chef.  Who couldn’t do that?  You could always lie about how good you are to start with.  Then you add the benefit of professional chefs teaching you to the equation.  In the end it is all about you.  Now, if your competitors have the same idea you may be effed but I don’t figure anyone is as sneaky as I am.

I love the Food Network.  My love my stem from current association with Jenny Craig.  There is something aobut watching people make really delicious food when you are on a diet that is satisfying.  On the other hand, it can really make you hungry.  30 Minute Meals could be my downfall…all that butter, olive oil, and pasta.  I am allergic to exercise so I can’t eat the pounds of pasta Rachel Ray consumes.  My pasta has to be doled out in 1/8 cup portions. 

Paula Deen is my girl.  Mo’ buttah…mo’ bettah!  She also has the intense love affair with chocolate that I have.  I watched an episode of Paul Deen’s home cooking that was completely dedicated to the abuse of chocolate.  She put chocolate on everything…including one of the male guests in the audience.  She makes southern fried food and then completely ignores the one starch rule.  She makes corn fritters, with potato dumplings, and then adds a big ol’ carb laden ooey, gooey dessert to the mix.  God Bless that Woman!  She is large and loving life!  She makes me want to shuck the diet and embrace my inner Goddess (you know, the one with all of the curves who isn’t afraid to eat).

I can’t stand Alton Brown.  He has a speech pattern that makes me want to throw things at the television.  He sounds like Jeff Goldblum and isn’t half as attractive.  No, I am not implying that I think Jeff Godblum is attractive…I am stating that I think Alton Brown is not.  I don’t trust skinny cooks either.  Rachel Ray has curves, Paula Deen definitely has curves, Mario doesn’t have curves…Mario doesn’t indent.  If they look like they enjoy eating then I will watch their show.  If they look they don’t eat it…I ain’t watching it!

My favorite thing on the Food Network are the Challenges.  I like the pretty ones, not the barbecue or steak challenges.  The chocolate challenges, pastry challenges, sugar sculpture challenges, and all of the cakes…but especially extreme cake challenges are on my remote’s speed dial.  It is through the extreme cake challenges that I met and fell in love with Duff Goldman.  I feel that a man who can bake a cake, decorate it, and deliver it to my address is damn near a demi-God.  He’s chubby too.  Bonus!  My daughter prefers his assistant Jeff.  He is really thin.  He can decorate a mean cake, but he obviously doesn’t eat.  What is the point?

The Food Network makes me want to cook.  I watch them make these astounding and unheard of dishes, and I want to go into the kitchen and see what I can do.  The Food Network is responsible for my lack of fear in the kitchen.  It has helped me to create several of my family’s favorite dishes.  It has taught me to use ingredients my mother never had in her kitchen.  It has put several pounds on several of us.  On days like today when there is seven inches of snow on the ground and the kitchen is cool I want to go into the kitchen and make yeast dough, and cookies, and homemade soups, stews, or stoups.  I want to use lots of butter and lots of cream.  I want to add those winter pounds and then hibernate.  I don’t want to do dishes.  Perhaps they need to come up with a Clean House network….oh who in the hell would watch that?

 

I live in the northern tip of the south.  It’s almost the midwest, but not truly.  I know this because I receive Southern Living magazine.  If I lived in the midwest I would received Midwest Living (which I didn’t know existed until at the home of a friend who lives in the midwest).  We are always ill prepared for inclement weather.  Generally speaking, our biggest threat is tornadoes.  When it snows, our road crews get so excited they dump all of the salt on the highway and then have nothing left if it snows again.  We are currently in the middle of a winter storm.

I have thought, for awhile now, that winter storm warnings are the brain child of Wal-Mart.  They pay the local news sources to announce a coming storm and everyone (I do mean everyone) goes to by a winter’s worth of supplies.  Here’s the thing…they buy enough to get them through Armageddon.  We have never had a storm that lasted a month.  Last year, we had an ice storm that left some people without electricity for ten days, but I see these people loading up like there will never be another chance to buy groceries.  My question is this…what do they do with all the groceries if the electricity goes out? 

My oldest son is giddy with excitement.  He sells generators.  He knows that people will get so panicked by this prediction that they will run out and spend thousands of dollars on generators to protect the thousands of dollars they just spent on groceries.  I know that there were tons of people at the grocery store, because my husband and I had to go as well.  We didn’t go to Wal-mart.  It was way too crowded.  We went to a local grocer.  We bought stuff that isn’t technically healthy, but it doesn’t spoil if we don’t have power.  I’m talking canned cheese, saltines, Doritos, peanut butter, Ritz and lots of bread.  We will survive, but we may weigh 900 pounds before it’s over.

I love the south.  I love the lazy way we speak (and move).  I love the humid summers, and the mild winters.  I love the big hair and beauty pageants (for babies).  I love that peepaws and meemaws get in the F150 and head to Wal-Mart when there is a threat of snow.  I love the people in the trailer parks who are the first in line to be interviewed after the tornado…”I’s just standin’ over yonder, and I heard sumpin’ sounded like a freight train.  I looked over ta granny and tolt her ta get in the root cellar.  Then I saw it!”  There are millions of college graduates in the south, but they never line up to be interviewed.  It’s the same if there is criminal activity in the neighborhood.  My favorite was the lady who (when interviewed after a train accident) stated that she heard something that sounded like a tornado.

We may get more snow.  The ice has yet to accumulate as predicted.  However, it seems that the immediate threat may have passed.  You can bet though, that if they say on Saturday, that more snow and/or ice is on the way everyone will load up the biggest vehicle they own and head back to Wal-Mart.  They will load up the deep freezes and pantries.  They will cook for days to have casseroles in the fridge just in case they have company come over.  They will make sure cell phones are charged, and fires are lit.  They will also do everything they can for neighbors, cattle, pets and family.  That is the real reason they load up, because they worry that they may be the only ones who do and they want to be sure to take care of everyone else.  That is the true south.  The concern for our fellow man.  The kindness and concern of our neighbors is the reason we live in an area that bakes us in the summer and freezes our butts off in the winter.  Some people will tell you that they love the fact that we experience all four seasons (sometimes in one day).  The truth is, it’s the people who make the south…not the location.  I could never live around folks who care only about themselves.  I need the manners and concern of the south.  I like that everyone talks to you like they have known you your whole life, even if you just met them in line at the grocery store.  People smile and make eye contact.  Neighbors check on one another.  We complain, just like everyone else, but southerners are here because we love it…not because jobs are better, or life is cheaper.  So bundle up babies and make room for lots of casserole.  It’s cold outside and Aunt Maude fried chicken!

I am looking for a Facebook friend who is a Democrat.  It would seem that Facebook is littered with Republicans.  I am bombarded with Republican propaganda on a daily basis and I am sick of it.  I do my best to shoot down the lies and misunderstandings (and they are vast my friends), but I cannot seem to make these block heads understand. 

You wouldn’t believe some of the crap that is swirling around the toilet of the Republican mind.  I first had to battle the daily grumbling of losers.  Then they just started out and out lying.  “He’s not even an American.  Where’s his birth certificate.  At eighteen, his citizenship status ended.”, and crap like that was thrown at me time and again.  A lesser woman might have succumbed.  I am no lesser woman.  I  did my research.  I posted articles.  I did my best to enlighten the masses, but every time I threw up a solidly documented proof that they were wrong they posted two bogus reasons they felt they were right.  The biggest crock was them telling me that Obama’s birth certificate was MIA.  I haven’t personally ever held a President’s birth certificate in my hand.    I have never felt the raised seal.  However, I trust the process that verifies a candidates eligibility.  At the same time I recognize that even if I could personally produce the document I would be accused of forgery.  These people will never accept the fact that our President is indeed a valid President.

I think I have two major points of contention.  The first of these is the fact that while The Great Pretender was in office we were admonished to “support the President.”  The country as a whole knew he was a pitiful leader, but we were asked to support him simply because he was “The President”.  While I never pretended to be pleased about the powers in office,  I never wrote hate mail in public.  I realize now that I was wrong.  I should have bombed the shit out of everyone I know.  I should have vocalized my displeasure loudly and often.  I should have set up a “kick W’s ass out of office” website and put up every mispronounced word, photos of every shit eating grin, and blasted every incorrect analogy and statement from national speakers.  Apparently, that is the only way to express any displeasure in the administration.  I have come to realize when Republicans say “support your President”, they mean only Republican presidents.   

Secondly, I have always felt that statements made with regard to any one’s character should be supported factually.  You can’t just go around making up crap to suit your point of view.  I tried instill this in my children.  When the boys talked about a friend with questionable sexual preferences we had this conversation: ”He’s gay.”  “Has he ever personally made a pass at you?  Have you seen him with another man?  Then don’t go spreading rumors.”  To those who try and tell me that our President doesn’t even pass the basic requirements for presidency I say, “He’s there”.  Someone checked his background and found him eligible for the office and I’m sure they looked at every document in detail.  I feel equally certain that the Republican party looked for every possible out before he took office.  If indeed he was ineligible I feel they would have kicked him out of the pool before he took office.

Finally, let me say that our President has a crappy job.  He is the leader of the world’s largest power and he receives no respect and not nearly enough pay.  I personally don’t see why anyone would take it on.  Barack Obama did and has done a respectable job.  He hasn’t been without his mistakes, but if we were to tally the mistakes of the former President against the mistakes of the current President there would be no comparison.  He is trying to undo eight years of errors.  He has been in office 1 year.  A comparison for your perusal: If you walk into a marriage with a child who has been spoiled by his mother (or father) for the eight years of their life prior to the current administration, how long will it take you to straighten that kid out?  If you answered honestly, you would have to admit that straightening the child out might never happen.  At best it won’t happen in a year.  Maybe in five years you can mold a decent human.  Well, the President is dealing with a lot of spoiled little children, and he has to try and get a MAJORITY of them to behave. 

I am very proud to have an eloquent, well spoken person at the helm of our country.  I feel like we are finally getting the respect as a super power that we deserve.  I don’t have to worry that this president isn’t taking the job seriously.  My biggest fear is that the American people won’t give him the time he needs to get the job done.  That is a supreme relief.  Before I was worried that “W” would be trying to order a pizza and press the wrong button.  I was extremely concerned that the person whose finger was poised above the nuclear button had never been able to pronounce nuclear.  I wish I had some bit of advice to give to those who are frightened, but I’m frightened too.  I’m frightened that Republicans aren’t taking global warming seriously.  I’m worried about North Korea, and I’m really concerned that so many Americans are much more concerned with their good than the good of the country as a whole. 

I think Democrats are going to have to become as vocal as the Republicans.  They are spewing propaganda faster than I can debunk it.  I need help.  If I have Democratic friends on Facebook post support for our President on my Facebook page.  I will be setting up a Facebook page for Aging Disgracefully.  Voice your support, or if you (like so many others) have no faith in our current administration…give me a chance to change your mind.  I’m working on the Facebook page today.  Let Freedom Ring….m’er f’ers!

I am back in Kansas City.  I am with my husband this time, not my mother.  We arrived yesterday.  The snow began today.  It is still snowing.  The weather is bitch-ass cold.  Which (if you know weather) is the coldest of all the weathers.  My daughter thinks ass off, added to any thing greatly improves the quality.  For instance…she sleeps her ass off.  She also works her ass off, shops her ass off, gripes her ass off, eats her ass off (which gives me pause for concern because when I eat I tend to eat my ass on), and laughs her ass off.  What can I say?  For her, it works.  If I must use her terminology I am freezing my ass off.

Temperature wise Kansas City is no where near the same ball park as say the Bahamas. My non-vag daughter asked why if we were going away for a week we weren’t going to some where warmer.  I reminded her that we come here to check on a family member and that if they ever moved to warmer climes we would be happy to visit here there too.  For all of you relatives reading this, if you would like to see more of us move to warmer climates.  It would also help if you had a guest house separate from the main house and a loaner car.  Private planes will be considered (based on their size) and long term visits can be arranged.  I think this could also be the reason that all of our family lives in places just as effing cold as northwest Arkansas.  It won’t be warmer any time soon either. 

While I was speaking with my non-vag daughter today she informed me that she is in trouble with The Precious.  Apparently he is resenting the fact that she wakes him up, takes away his blankie, and is just mean in general in the morning.   For the last two days he has greeted her after work appearance with, “I don’t wike you!”  She said that he told his daddy the reasons aforementioned.  Today, however; he was taking her hand and leading her towards the garage.  Apparently he felt that if he at least showed her where her car was she would leave and he would be safe.  I tried to tell her that in his two year old mind all of the things she had done were vile.  Even I resent people who wake me.  And just try and take my effing blankie.  You’ll unleash 5′3″ of total whoop ass.  I thought she was getting off easy.  I mean basically she was just getting a slap on the hand.  I truly feel she appreciated the support.  I also told her that all three of my kids had at some point in their lives told me that they hated me.  I told her that The Precious was very advanced because none of my kids ever said it at two.

It’s nice to know I can help her in little ways like these.  I am also there to laugh when they do something stupid.  I laugh alot.  Not just at the two with the two year old.  I laugh at all of them.   Mostly because legally I can no longer be held responsible for their actions.  It sure is good to get them past that 18 year old mark.  I tried to tell my non-vag daughter that she should write down all of the things he says.  Eventually you forget or you forget who said what, but I don’t know if she took my advice.  My guess would be not.  The one and only thing all of my kids (vag and non) have in common is the fact that they don’t listen to me.  That is another reason I get to laugh more often than most.

Well, Boppy and I may or may not get out tomorrow.  We are nestled, cozy in our hotel room.  We have our Jenny Craig food.  We have fruit and beverages.  We will survive.  The snow is supposed to stop at some point either tonight or early tomorrow morning.   The temperatures will range between 0 and 4 tomorrow.   We have plenty of warm clothes with us and good heavy coats.  We are glad that we have someone near who owns a washer and dryer just in case we have to stay longer than we planned.  It’s all good.  Remember though…if you are planning a move south is the proper direction. 

 

 

So the hubby and I were talking tonight, ( I’ve become my mother…starting my stories mid-sentence) and I told him that I expected something major this year for my birthday.  He played stupid…at least I think he was playing, and said why?  Well, you know my dear ones, why this birthday is special.  I have only been going on about it for the last six months or so.  So I said to him, “I will never live as long again as I have lived already this half of my life.”   Age makes you stupid.

Age also makes you avoid mirrors.  When I was young I used every reflective surface I could find to look at myself.  Now I can get naked in front of a full length mirror, shower, lotion, and redress without ever sneaking a peek.  I can also undress under all the bedding reach over and turn out the lights and have sex with my husband without ever glimpsing skin.  I figure I am doing both of us a solid.  I don’t have to be embarrassed, and he doesn’t have to pretend he likes what he sees. My dad once said when he looked at my mother he still saw the fifteen year old girl he fell in love with.  While sweet, it was probably only true when she was fully clothed.  No one can look at an out of shape middle aged woman and even pretend to be aroused.  Sure there are stars older than me who have killer bodies, but they have trainers and dietitians who make sure they look like they are half their age.  Some of them have great bodies, but are so thin they look harsh.  This is not a problem I deal with.  I have fully developed my “Emmy” body.  If The Precious wants to lean back on my boobs he has great pillows for his relaxation.  The funny thing about that is…The Precious loves boobs.  Sometimes while he is on my hip he will just start squeezing my boobs.  I don’t stop him because I figure calling attention to it is wrong, but I am pretty sure feeling Emmy up is wrong too.  The way I see it, this is a parental issue.  The way I see it almost all issues involving The Precious, are parental.

What I can do to help with aging is wax my face, color my hair, and things of that nature.  I have a dear friend who does lash extensions and she has been kind enough to do my lashes for the last six weeks or so.  This seems to have helped.  At least I don’t have to wear mascara.  I told my hubby that I thought ridding myself of the bags under my eyes would be a great birthday present.  My eye bags are a gift from my dad.  All of that side of the family have horrible bags under the eyes.  I told him that if I could rid myself of them I would look, if not younger, at least rested.  He suggested that rather than have the bags removed, we could just pack them and go on a trip.  I’m pretty sure if we packed these babies we could go for a month long cruise and have clothes left over.  “Excuse me ma’am, are those carry on?  Can you get them inside the size meter?”  People might die.  I can just hear them telling me I have to pay and extra $50 for the two extra bags.  So from my dad I got short, bull-headed, and eye bags.  I also got gorgeous blue eyes and his smile…for those things I’m grateful so there is no point in talking about them.  When last I was carded I laughed because I thought the poor dear was kidding.  When first I was carded I laughed because I was finally legal and didn’t have to worry about not being old enough.  It’s amazing what makes you laugh when you are older.  For instance, when The Precious does things I spanked his father for…I laugh.  Not in front of him or at least not always.  Still, I do laugh.

 Anyway, my point is he had better go big on my birthday.  I will never be 50 again and I want it recognized.  I will not go quietly.  I will continue to age with great disdain.  I will whine and cry and kick and scream.  I fully intend to make everyone grateful when I go.  I don’t want them to be sad.  I have always thought of others first, and myself last.  In fact, I would have that put  on my tombstone if I intended to have one.  “Here lies The Precious’ Emmy.  She always put others first.  She lies here fully clothed.”

 

My New Year’s resolution was to blog more consistently.  In two weeks I have written once.  Is that more consistently?  In my defense, it is only the third.  So technically I have only missed two days since I made the resolution.  However; it looks as if this resolution is going the way of so many others.  I have good intentions.  I truly do.  Life tends to get in my way.

The tennis elbow (how funny is that?) is still the same.  It hurts all the time, and nothing makes it better.  This seems to be the story you constantly hear from me.  It hurts all the time, and nothing makes it better.  I wish I had the resilience of The Precious.  His little broken arm doesn’t even slow him down.  He has figured out what he can and can’t do with it, and utilizes it to his full advantage.  He even manages to look pretty darn cute with it.  It’s red and reaches up above his elbow.  Not because he needs it that high.  Elbow would have been good enough, but it is above the elbow so he can’t monkey his way out of it.

He received some Christmas money and we took him shopping on Saturday night.  He found a castle.  It has “boys” in it.  It also has a dragon that roars and causes thunder and lightening.  He and I stayed together while his parents went to  a movie and Boppy went to play trivia.  He must have played with his castle for over an hour without even looking up.  He had guys falling off the top and getting bonked on the head with boulders and about a zillion other things.  I don’t know if I have ever been around someone so little with such a big imagination.  He has begun to cry whenever he leaves and that breaks my heart.  He has to learn to go quietly.  Seriously, I think his parents have taught him to make me feel guilty so that I will let him spend the night.  I will too, just as soon as he keeps my hours.

We had a great Christmas, and we were lucky enough to have all the kids at home at least one night.  My youngest is working all the time…two jobs basically.  To top all of that off she starts cosmetology school the last of March.  It seems she is never home, and when she is it is a whirlwind of clothes and hairspray and then she’s gone again.  The middle son is working on a play.  Actually (and this is where I get to brag a little bit), he is starring in Bug.  I think it is kicking his ass.   I called him about three days ago, and I still haven’t gotten a call back.  I can’t even begin to imagine learning a whole script, and he is basically the only character.  He has a female lead as well, but she has many fewer lines to learn.  He was able to come in for one night and then he was gone.  He practices and he sleeps.  The older kids…the married ones are just swimming along.  I told my non-vag. daughter the other night that I really don’t even understand how they have clean clothes.  I mean, if I had to do housework, work, and raise a two year old I truly think there would be some naked people running around.  Yes, I know that I used to do it all the time.  I know that I dealt with three of the little monsters.  I also know that I had my first when I was 17.  I had the second when I was 20, and the third at 25.  I am now within weeks of turning 50.  I am tired.  Alot.  I don’t know how any of my kids manage to do all the things they do.  I now think back and wonder how in the hell I did it.  Then it comes to me.  When you have to…you just do it.  You don’t think about it.  If you did you would go nuts.  The older ones are even considering beginning the process of adding to the brood in the next six months or so.  Again, been there done that, but WTF?  I know they’ll manage.  A large part of me still sighs each time they leave though.  I love my grandson to the moon and back, but he wears me out.  I would see him every day if I could, but he wears me out.  He is the cutest little trained monkey you have ever seen, but (I know you know).

So what will 2010 hold?  Hell if I know.  I just know that at this point in time, everyone is well.  Most of the time at least 6 out of the 7 of us are happy, and some days we are 7 for 7.  That’s not bad.  The economy sucks, but life isn’t bad.  Maybe instead of shooting for better we should just maintain the status quo.  I have to believe that things in the economy will improve.  I choose to believe that the family will just get better and better.  Considering how good we are now, I’d have to say things are looking up!  I’m gonna go knock some wood now!