Chop. Spice. Simmer. Toss.

 

The four question marks literally represent the four questionable puppies the family dog just gave birth to last Thursday around 1:30am. 

The young male dachshund, Oscar, was the first dog to ever impregnate the older black labrador mixed female. These puppies are strong survivers - there were four others that didn't make it. The age of the mother and the strange combination of dachshund and labrador genes may have something to do with the 50/50 mortality ratio we had going there.

Nonetheless, we have four adorable puppies on our hands now, one of which I have claimed. Blackberry, the smallest but first birth of the litter, was my favorite from the moment I saw his little tongue sticking our while he was napping on his back. He is the darker of the two black ones,

while the other one has a more brown-black fur. I have temporary names for the other three as well: Samsung (brown-black), Macintosh (chocolate brown) and Apple (light brown).

 

And what will these little cupcakes turn out to look like...? With a one foot high by 2 feet long father and a medium-sized mixed labrador mother, who knows?!

 

That little hotdog was a semi-permanent attachment to the labrador's back for a few weeks... we joked about puppies and 9 weeks later we have four wrinkly little furballs to play with!

 

His eyes say I'm innocent, but his smile says otherwise...

Throughout my entire life I have always been one of those people who lives by the words, "Question Reality."

I have always felt there is something wrong with the way things are - the way we live - the way we function as a society - the way we don't really care, we just donate a dollar or say a prayer to make the uncomfortable feeling of knowing that another human being is in pain go away - the way we work like zombies without questioning the reason.

 

The last entry I made was about ego and the book Ishmael - I mentioned that the general lesson taught in the book

hits the reader like a blow to the head. Well, that blow seems more like a tap after watching this: Zeitgeist - The Movie.

 

I am a bit wary of films like this and the 9-11 movie by Michael Moore... anything that screams "Government Conspiracy" at me has always rubbed me the wrong way and has always come off like one of those over-dramatized household cleaner advertisements. But this film, though very long, is well worth the viewing time (and you can pause it for bathroom breaks!). Whether you believe 5% of it or 10% of it, it definitely makes you want to dig a little deeper into the lovely trait we have all adopted since 9-11 called "patriotism" - what do you believe we are really fighting for?

 

Not to mention the wonderful feeling of having everything you believed in as a child ripped apart and revealed as a carbon copy of some Egyptian sun-god worshipping religion. What the fuck, people! WHAT THE FUCK?!  I have been a "non-believer" for a while now, armed with facts beyond the common Christian knowledge of their own religion, and even I didn't know that the bullshit ran so deep in religion. We might as well gather every Sunday to worship the sun out on a hilltop while sacrificing a goat or ourfirst-born child or whatever it is that the religous leaders demand to appease the god(s) this century. Oh wait, we do... but we just give them money instead. What I wouldn't give to have the balls to make a few dozen copies of Zeitgeist and leave them in random spots around my old private Christian school.  If I was armed with the knowledge I have today, there would have been an uproar and most likely a class-wide riot.

 

I'm feeling a bit of nostalgic right now - I am only 23 but I still have a past behind me that I can reminisce about - back to when I was in middle school trying to figure out why my Catholic mother put me into a Christian school. I hated it. I rebelled in every way I could without sacrificing my ability to learn (inside, and more commonly, outside school). I would argue 'til I was red in the face about the non-existance of a controlling being or god figure (kinda like I just did five minutes ago with my boyfriend, a sort-of believer [he is confused at this point, I think].  For a while I just learned to let it go and let people have their strength-giving faith - if believing in a god or higher being helps you to cope with this life, then that's what it takes for you. I let thing "Just Be".  But lately, I am seeing people weaken and crumble because they can't understand,"Why god is letting things like this (9-11, economic despair, murders, floods, etc.) happen." Or even better "This is a test of our faith." Or my favorite, "He is washing out all the sins of the people." Yeah, right - and I can part waters with my magic fairy wand. I was nice and quiet about it until now. My significant other is still in the stage of trying to figure out whether or not there is someone or something who created and is controlling the entire universe. I try to explain the simple matter that is at hand: the universe controls itself. It is its own being, all unto itself, along with every single living and non-living cell in it - one massive blob. But, once again, I have to remember to understand that some people will always walk with the crutch we call religion. I can't seem to avoid an argument about it... which sucks, because I really hate being in an argument that has no mutually agreeable end in sight, especially with him.

 

I love him, a lot. I even surprise myself sometimes with the amount I care about him. I don't know why either - I just do. I mean, I can name a thousand reasons why, but I don't choose to love him, I just do, almost instinctualy - like you love yourself... I love him unconditionally. I love him for all that he is and for all that he is not. He finds that hard to believe sometimes, which I understand because I believe I have been loved unconditionally a lot in my life and I could never just accept it was unconditional - I even believe that my parents love me purely because the genetic code embeded in me is theirs - its a chemical thing, not an emotional thing - its an instinct - almost unconditional. I don't know why I went off on that tangent, but back to the matter at hand - love.

I love him and he doubts my love because I don't take a liking to a lot of the things in his past - but I try to explain to him over and over its not his past that I'm in love with, I'm in love with him now. He thinks I love him less because of who he works for - I try to explain that its just a job and that he changes jobs so often that it really doesn't affect me as much as it everyone seems th think it does - its just a job and he would choose differently if he had the chance as most of us would. He thinks I'll love him less because of who he was in the past and who he works for right now... Can't people just accept that they can be loved for who they are as a human being and not their beliefs, gender, job, economic status, physical appearance, etc.???

There may only be a few real people left who can love a person for just who they are, but damn it, I am real and my love is real.

:::Modern Humanity's Ego Exposed:::

 

I read the book Ishmael by Daniel Quinn when I was in Panama for two weeks, earlier this

year.  If you have never read a book or may never read another book again, please, PLEASE read this book. The message in this

book is not one of getting rich or finding happiness or religion. This book does not sugar-coat anything. What made me read it, besides a good friend's recommendation, is because of one of the comments on the back cover that read something along the lines of, "When I think about the books I have read I divide them into two categories: the one's I read before Ishmael, and the books I read after."

 

Yeah. It's that damn good.

 

 It feels like waking from a very long dream. It hits you at one million miles an hour like a wall and it knocks you onto your ass, breathless, tears running freely down your face. It feels like someone tearing every bit of skin and muscle from your body and letting your skeleton show. It moves your very being. It scares the hell out of you and makes you think, REALLY THINK, about just who you are and what your place is and if "you" and "this place" even exist.

 

I can say, without any hesitation, that 90% of my actions on a day to day basis have changed because of what I took from this book. I now, unlike most people, fully realize the impact of every breath I take on the world around me.

 

 

 

 

:::Ego :::

 

Our egos have a tendency to create our own reality.

 

If you want someone, everyone,  to believe something about you and they do believe it without a doubt, then it has become your reality, even if it isn't true. No one knows different and if no one has a doubt then no one will test it and so it is accepted as reality.

 

Your ego's reality is what you know everyone believes about you, even if it isn't the truth.

 

Ego. Don't let it own you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

:::On a more personal level:::

 

 I will admit to having a recent revelation about myself. I realized I have created a reality for myself in a certain part of my life. It is so far from the truth it is fucking scary that it is able to exist like this. I don't know what I am going to do now that I have realized this ego-created reality exists.  I have to hit my own reset button.

 

---------------------------

 

And on the note of recent discoveries - I always end up having some insanely poetic revelation when I'm cleaning my apartment - I'm starting to think it could be the chemicals...

Yes. Okratini. As in a dirty martini with olives and all, but with a pickled okra added at the last second. The long funny-looking thing sticking out of the left side of the glass is actually a tube of ice. It keeps the drink cold, I can stir with it, and it melts slowly so it won't drown the vodka. Kudos to IKEA (heh) for coming up with that ice "tube" tray.

 

Note: Excuse the absence of the almighty Grey Goose. I don't particularly loooove Tito's Handmade Vodka, but it was all that was in my freezer at the time. I had a brief but wonderful love affair with Ketel One last year... but I will always be a Goose girl at heart. There is just something about it - there is no "bite in the ass" at the end of a Grey Goose shot or cocktail. It's just like cool, smooth, liquid crystal.

 

The Dirty Okratini - coming to a bar near you soon!

I just finished updating the website for the nonprofit organization that I work for and, once again, it dawned on me that I am very lucky to have such a flexible and lovable job. Very few people love their job.  It sucks to hate your job and the people you work with. I did at one time in my life, but for the last four years I have been lucky enough to have one of the most awesome bosses around. I also gain priceless experience in my major - Public Relations. I get to use my creativity and office skills to help organize one of the biggest events in Tallahassee, Florida during the legislative session - and I get paid pretty well too. And I absolutely love the people that I work with.

My boss and I have grown quite close over the past couple years.  I have grown to think of her as a mother at times.  We even fight like mother and daughter... I really love her to death.  Most jobs would be effected negatively by mixing friendship with work, but in our field - event coordination - it allows for a wonderful flow of creative communication between us, no holds barred.  Together with a few other key organizers, Dianne and I rock Tallahassee's world, every April.

 

I was at Friday's last night for a much-needed farewell party to a friend when I was reminded of my trip to eat there a couple weeks ago with my boyfriend that felt like a short trip to hell...

We walked in all excited about spinach dip and jack daniel's sauce so when the waiter is like "How about Table #50?" to his fellow host who nodded. I was nodding too but it was more like a "Yes lets sit now - I require a Martini" nod then approval of our table number. We followed the waiter, cluelessly, into a little corner near the entrance that seemed to be kind of seperated from the rest of the place - that should have been a big red flag, but I just really wanted a Martini.

 FOOL!! I was now seated ... dun dun dun . . . in the children's section. If you've ever been seated in or near that section of pretty much any restaurant, then you know what happens next. 

 

We freaked out when we realized that the table next to us had a kid and his parents, who were holding a baby - The table across from us had a little brat of a child who kept throwing a fork across the table at his grandfather and screaming about something in spanish - The table behind us has a somewhat quiet couple of kids with their mom, which was a nice for a change. My boyfriend saisd we should move and I was like nah it can't be that bad tonight... and yes, indeed, I did spend the entire meal wishing I had moved.

So - The lesson here is:

If you live in Miami, or visit Miami, and end up at the Friday's across from UM on Mariposa and US-1, DO NOT LET THEM SEAT YOU AT TABLE # 50.  If you happen to hear the host/hostess say they are sitting you at TABLE # 50, just ask to be seated at a booth or somewhere - ANYWHERE - else.  Little does anyone know that the nice little quiet and off-to-the-side table for two is actually hidden in the family/children's section. The area was once the smoking section, and now they have used it to hide the loud crying babies and screaming children. Remember that - TABLE  50 - NO!

 

For the love of God, why did they place one little table for two (most commonly a couple out for a nice meal together that doesn't involve screaming or babies) in that section.

 

 

After wandering the 'net for weeks looking for the perfect blog community, I have stumbled upon Vox.

Finally, a place to post all my recipes and rants.