boom
    Today's Cooking Tip:
    It's no fun cooking every night, so grill or broil a giant pile of veggies one night and add them to pasta, salad greens, or a piece of meat for the rest of the week. Asparagus, especially, but also summer squash, mushroom slices and onions.


5.28.03 You're the Inspiration (title should be sung in falsetto like the guy who forever took away the potential of not sucking from the fusion band Chicago)

Who's the inspiration, you ask if you followed all that? The Yeti. Two reasons.

Reason Number One: Sweetie and I love how consistently mean The Queen is, but Sweetie seems to think she is all mean, all the time. I insist that she is hundreds of beautiful means with three ugly nice ones, but that it is easy to make her seem all mean all the time with selective quoting. He has since requested that I selectively quote him, so he can be as mean as the Queen. Will do, says I, as soon as Miss Methadone can remember the means past the time it takes to squeal, lean over, and smooch him. Yes, in this house, mean people get smooches.

Reason Number Two: Some of you have heard my tales of woe at being short and working in toy stores--most professionally made character suits fit 5'4" and under. I've been Lambchop (sans hand up butt), Smith the Marketable Bear (ok, Learning Bear), Arthur, and Madeline. I never got to be big mean Darth Vader and make kids cry. Oh no--as lambchop I played hopscotch and nearly killed myself and as Arthur I signed "I love you" to two little bald and deaf boys visiting from Children's Hospital, while sobbing inside my giant "is that a hamster? no, it was an aardvark but they decided the nose was obscene and so removed it" round furry head. It wasn't until Miss Thing was dragged off to the bathroom by a Klingon when we were in Vegas that I realized the awesome potential of countless scifi characters. And the awesome potential of Corporate Buddies.


5.20.03 Sweet Taste of Fear While of course this is all just allegations at this point, I am inclined to believe it. One more reason why you should eat at the two nicer places I wrote about long before this other nice person did. Sorry for the cache there; the original can only be read by AOL members....

Un-related to doughnuts, at least not directly, I've been finishing up my book proposal this week, finally. Plus working like it's 1999, if Mr. Fomerly Known As will pardon the paraphrase. In San Francisco, we picked up a couple of hoodoo/santeria (not sure which, frankly) for Brothermine and Cheesepants; Brothermine's Alleged Easy Street seems to be rubbing off. want one? You know you do.


5.15.03 Gay means "lame"? There is a fairly minor uproar happening within the Seattle school district, involving this teacher and the NAACP. I happen to think the NAACP is way off bounds on this; they're calling for policy changes when they admitted yesterday they hadn't read the policy, and I don't think the parents who presented the case to them had given the whole story, which sort of makes them look dumb. Today there is this on the surface reasonable column, which agrees that the teacher shouldn't lose his job; that he is in general a passionate, committed teacher like the school needs. But he dismisses the word "gay" as currently meaning "lame or frivolous" to "young people", different from "nigger" which is "permanently weighed down with historical and sociological baggage." He's right on some level, but I am inclined to think that in many ways, that is correct about both words, depending on how the word is said. Clearly, young black kids in this country often refer to each other as nigger the way you might use the word "friend". When an older white guy says it--bam--here comes the baggage. But what about "gay" when said scathingly, to apply to something apparently foolish and/or meaningless? Hello, Baggage! Report to Carousel 4 to claim yours!

I also thought after reading that column, "gee, I bet that there's a small town in Wyoming where the "baggage" is all about "gay" and they likely don't think twice about the evil behind "nigger". And wondered when people will stop thinking about words and instead pay attention to the ethics and desires behind the words. And then I felt sad and depressed for our society, and wish I could just not be a part of it. Now I get to return to my lightweight, meaningless freelance work!

Good Morning!


5.7.03 SquatIs there an uglier word in the English language than "squat", especially when it refers to little old nekkid ladies who fill your vision when you arise refreshed from your cucumber-honey-olive oil facial treatment? I speak of this spa, where I took a friend of mine last night. Very relaxing, but the mental images are lasting longer than the effect on the muscles.

Good news: I probably don't have an ulcer. Also good: Sweetie's car passed emissions. Also good: I am in possession of some solidly feminist Catholic kid books for a first communionite friend of mine. Three good things in one day! It might be time for a production number!

Boom's new project: a hand up, not a hand out. I am experimenting with cookie dough--making big batches, doling out my version of Poppin'Fresh to those who are Worthy. Are you worthy of a tub of dough? Do you prefer milk or semisweet chips? Do you like slice-n-bake, or scoop-n-bake?


5.5.03 Zombies I forgot to mention that if you ever, and the Rock means ever, get to see Zombie Prom, you must go. 21, yes, 21 Hit Musical Numbers in about 2 hours. One of them is about how Our Heroine Toffee can't be expected to do her math homework when all she can think about is her Dear Jonny (no "H"). I don't remember all the lyrics, but she rhymes "hypoteneuse" with something.

Wouldn't it be cool if life was always a musical? Short duet with Love Interest before he disappears for most of the show, then a longer, more depressing moan about how much I was hurting in my back and hands, then moved on to a happier tune about rhubarb crisp for breakfast. Then a snappy little number about swimming at the Y, moving on to the day's biggest production number--about working--followed by a smoky jazz tune featuring that bad lady of blues, Constant Low-grade Nausea from Medication. Back up to speed with a toe-tapper about napping in the sun with a fat cat on my belly (oof! would be the downbeat) and on to another production number about working; this one kind of world-music influenced to indicate my work as a restaurant reviewer (Italian, Caribbean, American). Barbershop-style hit song about tea and blankets on a gray afternoon, to finish up with a blessed reintroduction of Love Interest, Medications, and Dinner.

I expect more typical slackers would place the production numbers somewhere other than work, but I'm That Sort of Freelancer, much like Pooh is That Sort of Bear. Brothermine once called my work ethic pathological, and I took it as a compliment. Which I think was how it was meant. Anyway...on with the show.


5.5.03 Decisions I like making decisions like, "which do I like better, warm or chilled rhubarb crisp?" So far, I think I like warm better at night and chilled better for breakfast, but I'm pretty sure that Sweetie will have to make me ten thousand more before I'm completely sure. Another good one is "does that marvelous old guy make a better Gandalf or a better Magneto?" Also: "which mutant powers would I like best?" Other than "the ones that give me an instant cool white stripe down the front of my hair", I'm pretty torn. I think mental would be better than physical, but I don't think I'd do well with being able to read brains any better than I already do; more Jean-Grey-tortured than Professor-Xavier- mellow. Maybe like the Pie Fiend, except being able to control all baked goods and their components? I could be called Captain Pastry, or perhaps the more enigmatic "Roux". Then when I went all eee-vil, I could be "dark Roux"--more time-comsuming, but more flavorful. Like...oh, don't want to spoil X3...


5.2.03 Trip Not like fall down or like drug-related experience, but like vacation! Sweetie and I are going to the Cit-tee bah the Bayay Woa-aoh-o-a-o soon. Among other as-yes-undecided things, we are going here, where I am curious about the Spongebob Squarepants ride. There is some concern about my back and the rides, but as I pointed out to Sweetie, only another month to get through before surgery anyway, so whatever. That's what pills are for, right?

As a side note, I have realized that making pill jokes in hospitals is like making bomb jokes in airports, so if you are planning to visit me, please remember that Nurse Ratchet is listening.

I have just read Vol 1, 2, and 3 of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and I am crazy about the comic. I am terribly concerned about the movie. Mina alone is a disappointment. I love her stern British sensibility in the comic. So much cooler than a freaky vampire, although I'm not usually one to object to F.Vs.