gra-tu-i-tous |grəˈt(y)oōitəs|
{ORIGIN mid 17th cent.: from Latin gratuitus ‘given freely,spontaneous’}
adjective:
1. uncalled for; lacking good reason; unwarranted : gratuitous violence.2. given or done free of charge : gratuitous advice.
vi-o-let |ˈvī(ə)lət|{ORIGIN Middle English : from Old French violette} adjective:
1. a bluish-purple color seen at the end of the spectrum opposite red.
noun:
2. a herbaceous plant of temperate regions, typically having purple, blue,or white five-petaled flowers, one of which forms a landing pad for pollinating insects. Genus Viola, family Violaceae.
3. ME.
Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Reasons I LOVE Living Single & (Han) Solo

Han Solo may have been my first crush!

{The following list is categorized by topic}

Who drank ALL the Java?!?!?
Curses! 

Mornings:

  • No sharing bathroom/shower time. If I am late to work, only my cat is to blame, which is to say: I hit snooze 11X while snuggling with Fletch before I head downstairs to find 4 piles of barf and a rogue turd. Those inconvenient treats do not mysteriously clean themselves up or evaporate into thin air if ignored. Believe me, I tried. If I had to calculate sharing a bathroom into that eeewquation, I would be fired from my job(s) and hate my mate!
  • Never hearing “is there any more coffee left?” Because: fuck yeah there is- AND cow-free milk!
  • Sleeping in as late as I want to/waking as early as I want to on my days off, which are akin to Nessie making an appearance. [See also: quasi-non-existent and therefor precious.]

WARNING:  Cuteness EXPLOSION!
TRY to NOT barf!

Evenings:

  • Arriving home from work greeted by cherished silence. (Occasional meows not included. Kitty cannot open the fridge & feed herself after all.) If I want to hear noises, it is all my doing, be they musical, productive/creative or my own voice chatting/singing. But most of the time, I keep it epically silent. It does my Soul good!
  • Going to bed whenever works for me. Maybe I fall asleep for a while on the couch before I go upstairs and crawl into bed, maybe I watch a video before I sleep while in bed. I decide. And I don't miss feeling compelled to sleep when my “other” does... or follow them to bed in hopes of getting laid/snuggling. Expectations = disappointments!
  • Unlike a human's snoring, the sound of my cat's snoring next to me in bed at night is sweet, comforting and charming. And quiet.


I found this image and thought to myself:
I AM FUCKED


Creative Time:

  • If I feel inspired to sculpt or paint manically at 2 am and need to get it out of my system, say, until sunrise, I don't need to go to the studio across town (not an option without a car right now) to do so. Having the space (both in my home and in my Soul) to explore this process is vital and yes, it makes a huge difference even if there's another human body in my house. Really.
  • No self-consciousness about making music or singing off key. Fletcher doesn't judge or make me feel bad about my attempts at this outlet.


Like this, it was... EXCEPT the Pepperoncini were GONE TOO!
Bastards! 

Food:

  • NEVER having to ask “did you eat the last avocado?” when I know it was my “other” but I am avoiding a trivial argument. I know it doesn't matter in the ephemeral big picture- but it does! [See also: coffee in the morning-time.]
  • Deciding about my meals without taking into consideration if anyone else ate already or is craving something different than I am. I abhorred those lame-ass calls to find out “where do you want to eat tonight?” especially to find out “oh, I already ate” then returning home to see only meat-related foods remaining in the fridge and all my vegetarian and vegan stuff gone! True fucking story.
  • Cooking late at night followed by cleaning up loudly after myself OR leaving the fallout all over the kitchen to clean up whenever I feel like it.

Were you raised in a barn?!?
Don't track mud through my house!

Chores:

  • Cleaning the house or not cleaning the house happens whenever I decide. If my place is a mess, I made it so. I do not harbor resentment if I spend hours cleaning and it's untidy the next day. Who left stinky socks in the hallway? I did. Perfect place for them, no?
  • I pay my bills and rent on time. I do not need to ask for anyone else's share. No excuses.
  • The cat box is tidier than ever, since I do not hear any complaints about Fletcher's bathroom habits. Just hearing someone's dang whining about scooping it in the past made me not want to keep up with it- even when I did. I am a fervent scooper.

Too much of this... Ick.


Compromise:

  • Say I want to listen to some guilty-pleasures music full-blast, I do. And I sing along. No shame.
  • I am free to watch the same shows/movies over and over again without being questioned why. Because I do that too.
  • I get all the blankets. Every time. And the best pillows to boot.
  • The heat is on whatever temp feels comfy to me.


    I DID.

Farting:

  • Often and with no regrets or embarrassment. 


TUMBLER IS NOT A FUCKING TECHYWEB THINGy.
It is a Vessel Which Holds Beverages!


All in all, I love living alone, as well as being single. I initially moved out as a teenager and lived alone with Fletcher and Zenobia until my lover moved in with me. I lived solo for almost 7 years in my own apartment before she moved in. It was wonderful. Even if I wasn't living with a lover, I lived with room-mates, all dudes. With the exception of one, they were Messy Marvins or downright pig slobs. Gross.
And after 15 solid, tedious, rollercoastery years living as a chronic monogamist, I needed some time off the dating grid. Enough about that.



Ann & Nancy are SO Badass! 
Feel free to sing along & even rock some air-guitar!

Friday, May 13, 2011

w.m.4 -OR- how did THAT get in THERE?

i was reading a fashion/food-related blog posted by the lovely dirtycowgirl, and was reminded of a story which took place many moons ago. 

still looks like jackie gleason to me...

once upon a time i was 19, believe it or not. it's still true. and, no, i don't want to relive it. i'm not one of those assholes who tells my students that their teen years are the best of their lives. on the contrary, i tell them the harsh truth: it sucks ass for the most part. wait till your 20's for the real fun, and your thirties for the enlightened shit. but when i'm 40, i will probably be wrong about that too. anyhoo- the 19 thing was a learning experience, and i was lucky enough to not get busted for the dumb shit i did, but what the hell do you know at 19? not alot. sorry to any of you reading 19 year-old folks, i speak the facts. enjoy the splendor of not knowing, for it does not last forever.

arrested development: the best t.v. comedy ever written.

i was 19, and working in a quasi-famous restaurant. i did all the jobs there, depending on day/shift and necessity. i washed greasy pots/pans/dishes. i made salads and appetizer plates. i was a chef. i made bread and baked yummy numnums. i was the virgo ultimate.

no- not this one, but i do love the iconography of this nyc diner

now, many non-virgoan people have misconceptions about virgos being anally retentive and curmudgeonish or even cantankerous, lacking any warmth whatsoever. really? who writes this shit? 
fuck that stigma. i am an ex-slob, potty-mouthed, affection whore... much like my cat, who is a pisces. [i may or may not wax the astrological at a later date. keep posted.] i do possess the attention to detail we virgo peeps supposedly have, and i am uber-into world-wide ancient health and healing arts, like acupuncture, homeopathy and herbalism. i enjoy studying. nothing wrong with dropping knowledge on yourself, i say.

what one person thinks of us virgos- just the positive crap

okay, i was cooking at the restaurant or on salad patrol the day in mention. i remember working a double as well. it was the summer, because i also remember going out back to water the gardens and pick veg for the recipes i was concocting. 

2 onions, 4 cloves garlic, eye of newt, toe of toad...

guaranteed after a double-shift day, i came home pooped beyond recognition, and flopped down on the sofa to chill with the kitties. i'd come in, pee, grab a snack and some fermented beverages, and retire to the living room.

kitty knows best. 
now will you pass the popcorn... and the remote?!?!

i came in and greeted the felines, and went to the bathroom. sat to squirt, and what do i find- to my surprise?
an entire sprig of parsley. a large one.
in my panty.
as in IN.

curly-vs-italian
the parsley showdown!


1] how did that get there? my clothing was fitted.
2] how did i not notice it? i get squirmy when a wedgie is threatening to make it's way up my ass.
3] what the fuck? i don't cook in my skivvies... at work at least.

i need these

perhaps i need my own forum of FAIL. 
sure do have enough instances of them.

like you have never done this...

hi, my name is violet, and i have herbs in my underwear. 
nice to meet you.