Coping, as Daylight Saving Time Ends

Last night we had to turn the clocks back and turn the page on the calendars forward. Being the neurotic freak that I am, I did this all 12 hours earlier than necessary, confusing everyone in my midst.

I don't cope well with the annual slide down the slope to winter, but I'm getting better. Here's an example of how.

There was a time, after I had surgery on my leg in June of 2006, when I would use Bailey's Irish Creme as creamer in my coffee. Every morning.

(I didn't see anything wrong with this. I guess it just enhanced the effect of all the other meds I was on, and my doctor did tell me to 'snow myself' so I'd stay still enough to heal...)

That spring turned to summer, and summer into fall. As winter approached, my man would come home from work at times to find me under the covers with the heat turned up to nursing home levels and all the lights in the house off. I still don't know why he stuck around, but it's likely due to his generousity, kindness, and self-awareness. No one is perfect; we all are broken in some place.

I must remind myself - as the days grow shorter and colder and grayer, and things that should be resolved by now drag on and on with no resolution in sight - that my coping mechanisms have improved since those times 3 years ago, however marginally.

Though sometimes I still have a craving for Bailey's in my coffee.

Streams of Semi-consciousness...

1) I own a shirt that requires cufflinks, but my man does not.

2) I covet the iPhone. I knew this before my man came home with one, but it's all the more painful now.

3) My best pet ever was my tortie kitty Rascal. I still sometimes desperately miss her sleeping at the foot of my bed, and she's been gone since 1991.

4) The longer I live, the more I learn about loss.

5) My mom used to take us apple picking every fall, without fail. She introduced me to the Macoun, now my favorite apple. She also made one hell of an apple pie.

Cohabitation, in a Nutshell

When you live alone, you can wash your sheets at any time of day or night. You don't have to wait for your partner to vacate the bed, or invest in a cattle prod or scare tactics.

This is especially poignant here in the very early morning, after a sleepless night (which I chalk up to the fact that my hair smells like bacon - very distracting!).

My Mind, Black Hole - Part 2

My can opener fell to the floor.
My can opener functions no more.

No tuna fish for me.
I shall eat this avocado with glee.
Tee hee tee hee tee hee!

The Sleep of the Innocent

So, last night I dreamt that I had the pleasure of popping a pimple on the lovely Katarina Witt's upper thigh, right below the ass fold.

Then we ate chicken and broccoli calzones.

Care to take a shot at analyzing that one?

It's a black hole sometimes, my head. Scary!

Rhode Island's Unofficial State Motto

Golf Weekend Booty
Originally uploaded by whatstepheats

I'm sure some of you believe this is not the case, and to you, I say congratulations on finding your happy place in this state.

I've thus far been a life-long resident, and have to say - I've never felt the love. Not as a child, not as a student, not as an adult woman.

I used to think it was me, but then I started to travel to different states, different countries, where people were actually kind, and not abrasive. Where the driving was perhaps aggressive, but not anencephalic. Where there was some semblance of concern for fairness and equity, and not just advancement based on who your friends and family know.

Now I know it's not me. Someday, when I am able to awaken in a place that feels right, that thought may bring me comfort.
For now, it just makes me angry that I 'wasted' so much time.

Rhode Island is a backwards mess filled with insular idiots who think they know it all - but never hold themselves up to any standard because they are so shut off from the rest of the world.

Rhode Island is not a meritocracy - it is an idiocracy. It's not about what you know or what you can do - only who you know and who owed your great uncle a favor 50 years ago, or who fears you because of whatever shitstorm you could set into motion in their lives.

When I tell people, in my travels, that I am from Rhode Island, I take it as a compliment when they say that I don't act like a Rhode Islander.

What a shame - such a gorgeous mass of land and historical landmarks is allowed to be ruined by its inhabitants.

Groudhog Day in September

Grilled Boneless Breasts, Loads of Veggies
Originally uploaded by whatstepheats

If my legion of loyal readers has noticed that I've not been posting pics of meals lately, here's the simple explanation: they all look the same.
I've fallen into a grilling rut. I'm bored with what I cook, enough so that I don't even take photos most of the time, because it all looks the same - protein with grill marks, veggies, salad. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Every now and again I'll make a red sauce with meatballs and sausages for pasta. Last week I even made a beef stew with smoked bacon and blood sausage. But by and large, it's been grilled salmon, grilled chicken, grilled steak, grilled pork chops.

So it's with great excitement and giddiness that I bring you this news! Today I trudged through the light mist to the downtown farmers' market and found a rack of goat from Simmons Farm. So excited to have my way with it next week.

But the man wants his pasta, so guess what I'll be doing tomorrow? Yup. Making meatballs.

Be happy in the face of the rain.