Cooking Up A Storm

Literally.

I went on a cooking binge this week. I'm pretty much exhausted from measuring, kneading, checking the doneness of meats and WASHING dishes! I swear I used every single one of our dishes at least three times. The best part is that the refrigerator is overflowing with leftovers.

At times, it really did seem like a storm in our kitchen. I think the smoke alarm went of six times this week. But to my credit, the oven is really dirty and smokes easily. Wait- how is that to my credit?

I love to cook. There is just something about having a finished product at the end of all your work. Very unlike reading casebooks, studying or attending class. And the results taste much better too. I got really tired of thumbing through my million cookbooks and trying to remember old recipe websites to find my favorite recipes. So I bought a really nice journal at the local bookstore and I have been transcribing all my favorite, no-fail recipes into ONE BOOK. It's totally awesome. I LOVE my recipe book. I even have false hopes that my kids will pick it up after I'm long gone, make my old recipes and fondly rememberme...ha ha ha- ok, back to reality.

This week I made the following:

Potato Pierogies
Spatzle- German dumplings with ham and Sauerkraut (my great grandma's recipe!)
Homemade pizza bagels- from scratch!
Country fried steak with biscuits and sausage gravy (all from scratch)
Tandoori chicken (a recipe from my Indian friend- but still not as good as hers)
Pecan Pie (times two!)
Teriyaki chicken with homemade sauce
Chicken Sio Pao (phillipino dumplings - like the round chinese dumplings)

Wow, I'm exhausted just thinking about it all. This is going to be one yummy week of leftovers. If I would have just spent a fraction of the time that I spent cooking on doing my law school homework, I could have been ready for tomorrow's 8am class. Sigh.

**Updated to include recipe links!

Not Likely To Become A Doctor

That's how I would describe my son after our failed anatomy lesson yesterday.

Well, if the only job he will qualify for is Burger King Burger Flipper, maybe I get free fries for life?!

Re-Convert

You know how when you ask people what kind of music they listen to many will say, "Anything but country....oh and rap."

As a die hard country music fan, this totally pisses me off. Ok, so country is just not your thAng, I get it- that's fine. But REALLY? You like every other category in the repertoire of worldly music EXCEPT country? How much more of an insult can you give to a down-hown, line-dancing, wanna-be country gal? It's borderline ridiculous!

I mean seriously? You'd prefer to listen to hours of ear splitting mountain yodeling than country music? You would choose whinny teenage emo music over a couple bars of an acoustic accompanied by a fiddle and some lyrics about pick-ups and bud light? How about hokey polky acccordian music in another language? You'd rather listen to THAT too? Well, at least you disclaimed a distate for rap as well, but notice how it is almost an afterthought as if country music where the ultimate in horribleness.

Am I missing somethere here? Is country music THAT horrible? I mean it's a brother to Rock and Blues. And excuse me, but ELVIS PRESLEY was consideres a country music artist as well. I admit a lot of country is "redneck," but that's because country singers know how to HAVE fun and MAKE fun of themselves. Example lyrics:

"She thinks my tractor's sexy."
"I can hotwire your tractor and plow up your land."
"I can take you for a ride on my big green tractor."
"If you gonna learn to farm you gotta learn to drive a truck"
"We all gotta hillbilly bone deep inside."
"I was sittin' there sellin' turnips on a flatbed truck."

Maybe it's genetic. You are born to like country or not. Maybe I just like it because it brings back memories of riding my bike in my garage as my dad worked on his boat and blasted the local country station. Maybe it just speaks to where I am in life right now. Or maybe I'm just a country girl trapped in the city. Oh, and there IS something beautiful about an accoustic or steel guitar that can't be replicated by a synthesizer.

In highschool I claimed that I hated country along with all of my friends. I think I even believed that myself for a while. From highschool to the age of 25, I refused to listen to it because of it's reputation as being "uncool" and "hick." But then, one day, my mom drove my car and left the radio station blaring. I decided to leave it on that channel for my entire 45 minutes drive home. By the time I got home I was singing along to my old favorites and loving some of the new stuff. I could hide no longer- country found me again and it stuck.

If you just don't like country, I respect that. I'm not trying to convert you. I just want people to respect country as a legitimate expression of the values and experiences of people from all across the country. And not just unsophisticated, toothless people, either. Sure it can be as loud an obnoxious as a dirty pickup with monster wheels. It can be as sexy as a shirtless rodeo bronc in boots and a dirty cowbow hat. But it can also be as sweet, romantic and breathtaking as an endless field of wheat and rolling hills.

And if you STILL refuse to respect country, you can take my shit kickers (aka:boots) up your @$$, you dimwitted gooseberry.

Surreal

Sometimes I just can't believe that this guy:



is now this guy...

Practice Deposition Makes Perfect

I think I mentioned before how I have become a major slacker this semester. Seriously though, if law school was Candy Land, I would be Gloppy the Molasses Monster, just sitting on my butt in the back of the classroom covered in thick, sticky molasses. And...that made no sense. I am very sorry.

In my "trial" class we all had to sign up to conduct pretend depositions in the pretend case we've been working on all semester. Well, somehow, I managed to forget the day of my deposition until that very day. I looked up at the syllabus and realized, "crap, I'm deposing a witness in three hours!" So I quickly skimmed the chapter on depositions, prepared my opening- you know all those necessary intro questions such as "have you ever been deposed before" and all the instructions like "please answer the question even if your attorney objects- unless he tells you not to answer the question." One hour before class, I was totally ready. I knew all the things I would try to get out of the witness. I was ready to rock it!

When class started, I came to the front of the room for the exercise. Halfway through my intro, I realized I needed to have the court reporter (a random student who sits at the deposition desk and pretends to type in his lap- pretty funny!) administer the oath. So we do the oath and then I have to start ALL OVER.

Then I told the witness that she can only give VERBAL answers to my questions since non-verbal answers cannot be recorded by the court reporter. I asked if she understood. She replied by nodding her head. I was so awesomely nervous that I didn't even catch this until my professor pointed it out at the end of the dep. Yay for me!

We started to go into the details of what she witnessed the night in question. The witness (another student playing the part) was 78 years old. She was deaf, confused, and she didn't remember anything. This made for a pleasant experience.

"Did you notice anything particular about the man's demeanor?"
"What?"
"Did you notice anything particular about the man's demeanor that night?'
"What does demeanor mean?"
"How he acted."
"Oh"
"I'll rephrase my question for you. Did you notice anything particular about the way the man acted that night?"
"What?"
"Did you notice anything particular about the way the man acted the night of the shooting?"
"Oh, wait. What man are we talking about again?"
"The man that you saw enter the bar."
"Who did I see enter the bar?"
"That is what I am trying to find out. You told me just a minute ago that you saw a man enter the bar on the night of the shooting."
"Oh yes. I did. But I don't remember."
"You don't remember that you saw a man or you don't remember how he acted that night."
"I remember that I remembered seeing a man. But now I can't remember him."
-HUH?!-
"Are you currently taking any medication?"
"No."
"Have you consumed any alcohol in the past 24 hours that might affect your testimony today?"
"Oh honey, I don't drink alcohol. It gives me gas."

How do real attorneys 1) prevent themselves from punching the lights out of really frustrating witnesses, even when they ARE 78 years old and 2) keep a straight face when a witness discusses her flatulence problems?

Sex & Marriage For Dummies: Don't Read Romance Novels

I'm gonna go to a dangerous place here.

First off, I am a horrible person. I read romance novels. They aren't all that subtle either. I've got a problem. I'm addicted to reading about how the strong, sexy guy gets the girl and then pleases her beyond all bounds of reality. To be honest, I actually just like reading about The Chase and imagining the witty dialogue taking place. When the author actually goes into the DEED- I get a little embarrased and start skimming as if the people AROUND me can hear what I'm reading. Weird huh?

But all these romance novels have gone to my head. Now I have a slew of unreal expectations about how MY romance life should be like. For example, husbands will always tell wives how they feel. They will pour out their soul at a deeply feminine and emotional level when the need arises.

They will always make you feel sexy and loved and wanted. Oh and the obvious, husbands will always want to have sex. They will crave your body more than their favorite internet car message boards. More than sleep. Even more than nachos!

And sex will be often and spontaneous and romantic and HE will make the first move (think rain sex, in a woman's dressing room sex, on the kitchen table right in the pecan pie sex). He will always start by kissing you wildly before he explores every inch of your body -because, although he's seen it a million times (even during those times when there was a baby coming out of you), he is just as mesmorized by your every sexy cellular membrane as he is by watching the the final pass of a tied super bowl game (they do have passes in football, right?).

Let's not forget the obvious (and the most disgusting myth from the romance novel genre)- you will be PLEASED each time. Sometime you will be PLEASED multiple times in one serving, if you catch my drift. Romance writers- STOP feeding me unrealistic bullsh*t!!

When I'm separated from my husband during the day, I often rumninate over what will happen when the baby goes to bed. Of course it's steamy and piping hot. Then I focus on that all day. I look forward to things playing out the way I pictured them- steamy and hot and....EXISTENT. Then I come home and life happens. Husband wants to play on the internet or is tired or has work to do. I put on something sexy- trying my darndest to catch his eye. Not even a glance. Are these panties defective? Can I return them?

I lay in bed thinking about my failed day time fantasy. I'm a little let down and have lost all faith in the reality of romance. I think, hey, it's NOT me. It's these dang romance novels. They teach us to have high and unrealistic expectations of the male sex. It's not fair to us and it's not fair to the men.

I am two lessons wiser now:

1. Don't try to be sexy. Guys don't care what you do or don't wear. As long as you have the parts, they will take a drink when they get thirsty (that's pretty much what sex is you know, the meeting of physical needs- just about as romantic as taking a drink or a poop.)

2. Don't have any expectations. None at all.

Girls, that's all you need to know about sex and marriage.

What's The Text Equivalent Of A Bitch Slap?

I guess I should go easy on my friends without husbands or children. Maybe they just don't understand the demands of raising a family. Or maybe my so called "friends" are just complete bitches.

Friend and I made plans earlier in the week to go out to dinner. Since then my son has come down with the mini-swine flu. Fever, cough runny nose. When my baby is sick, the world may as well be falling apart because 1) he won't eat ANYTHING, 2) naps? fahgetaboutit, and 3) he has to be in his mommy's arms unless you consider glass-breaking baby wails to be among your most pleasant experiences. When baby is sick, Mommy is frustrated and helpless. Don't mess with the beasts!

So my friend texts me, "Are we still on for dinner?"
Me: "Jacob is sick has fever have to reschedule." (punctuation optional)
Friend: "Your husband can watch him. I'm really looking forward to dinner!"
Me [PISSED!!!]: "He is really fussy- he only wants me."
Friend: "He would not be at the restaurant so who cares if he cries."
Me [OMG- what's the equivalent of a text bitch slap?]: "Sorry, Jacob comes first."
Friend: "Fine. I guess you gotta do what you gotta do."

OMG. I'm befuddled. That's my final answer.