just call me seven

Just in case you didn’t know…

Any time you see a movie quote, there’s a strong possibility that I will be offering points for the first correct guess.  There’s a little widget on the sidebar that shows the current scores, and as of now, my brother is the only one who occupies it.  You’re not going to just let him have the whole thing to himself without a fight, are ya?  (Thanks for your guesses, Michael… you’re the best.)

So you gotta ask yourself a question:  Do I feel lucky?  Well, do ya, punk?

(1 million points for the first correct answer… I figured I’d start out with an easy one.  Enjoy!)


This is what beautiful looks like.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this subject lately… so many women have issues with their bodies, myself included. And you girls all know all the usual suspects… billboards, magazines, movies, television, romance novels (would you really want a heaving bosom anyway? I don’t get that.) and the like. I love this Dove commercial that’s been floating around on YouTube, because it displays an important truth: Advertisements lie to women. They say that you have to be This Thin and have beautiful flowing hair and sultry, smoky eyes and full, pouty lips and be a 32D… but most people don’t look like that! It’s telling that models even have to be Photoshopped, because they’re not good enough! Girls, why are we buying this lie? It sucks.

I read in a book recently that you can’t give what you don’t have. We’re taught that loving ourselves is just vanity and pride, but can you really love other people if you don’t know how to love yourself? Even the Bible says, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Leviticus 19:18) So if that’s the case, obviously we are to love ourselves. Otherwise we’ll go around saying, “You’re fat, and you’re ugly, and whoa! Look at that bird’s nest of hair. Looks like you could use a shower. You’re a lazy bum, and you’ll never amount to anything. You can never do anything right… you always just screw everything up.”

I want to kick that habit, so that someday when I have children, they won’t grow up thinking poisonous thoughts about themselves that will only cause them hurt and not growth. So I stole this idea from Trudi Evans via Big Fat Deal: I wrote on my bathroom mirror, “This is what beautiful looks like.” I had to take it a step further, because that’s how I roll, and I put an arrow pointing to the place where my face is in the mirror, just to emphasize the point.


That’s me, in all my unwashed glory. I am who I am; I look like this sometimes. Sometimes I look better, sometimes I look worse, but dangit… that’s me. I have pretty eyes, and my laugh is infectious (not in the bad way). My hair is cute, even after 4 days with no shower. It’s a little greasy, but it’s still cute. I have cute toes. I have graceful hands. I have a sparkly little nose ring and an upper cartilage piercing, and four normal earlobe piercings. I wear a ring I made myself, by tying silver wire in a knot. I can carry a tune, and someone told me once I sound like Jennifer Knapp, and sometimes I do… sometimes I sound like Sarah Kelly, and sometimes I sound like JJ Heller, and I can imitate Sarah McLachlan pretty decently too. I have a mole on my left cheek that mirrors the one my dad has on his right cheek. I smell good, even unshowered, because of my love affair with things that smell good. My skin is really soft, except on my feet, but whose feet are soft anyway? They’re for walking, and that’s what they do. And besides, my toes are cute.

Have you ever seen The Kid? The premise is that the main character’s 8-year-old self time travels to the future. He’s chubby and sort of a dweeb, and he’s clumsy and has a lateral lisp. And he always seems to be doing something weird, but he’s really sweet and endearing and funny. And Bruce Willis’ character can’t stop yelling at him and telling him that he’s a loser (because that’s how he sees himself). And every time I watch it I hate to see him yelling at his little self, but that’s exactly what I do to my own little self every single day. At the end-ish of the movie, there’s a scene where he hugs his little self and comforts him, and I think we all maybe need some of that. I love that movie! I’m pretty sure I could watch it every day. Which is now possible, because The Married One and The BFF gave it to me for my birthday! Woot. I love those peeps.

I have no thrilling conclusion, other than to say that I’m trying to learn how to love myself, flaws and all, so that I can learn to love other people too. And, on a more selfish level, so that I can stop being so stinking depressed by my usual lame outlook on my life, which is that I’m ugly and dumb and I suck at being a person. So I raise my hands to the sky and scream along with Bruce Willis: I AM NOT A LOSER!

My Latest Obsession: Pot Pie.

Yes, you read a-right. I am recently (since Wednesday) addicted beyond belief to pot pie of all flavors. I had some at Marie Callendar’s when I was there Wednesday with a friend, and, while I enjoyed it, my immediate thought was, “I could make this… better.” So I did. I looked up pot pie in my mom’s trusty Betty Crocker cookbook, and set to work.

Oh. My. Gosh. The crust that Betty has you make is a celery seed crust, and it is to die for. It’s really light and flaky, and it has this great flavor from the celery seed. I actually used celery salt (since that’s the only thing we had) and just omitted salt from the crust and the filling to make up for it. It turned out really well.

Liquid-y stuff:
1/3 C butter
1/3 C flour
1/2 an onion
1/2 teaspoon salt (remember, if you use celery salt, I recommend that you omit this stuff.)
1-3/4 C chicken/turkey broth (I used bouillon… who has chicken broth just sitting around?)
Lots and lots of pepper (I’m obsessed… you might want to use less.)
2/3 C milk
Heat butter over low heat until melted.
Whisk in the flour, and keep whisking until it’s smooth, with no lumps (trust me).
Stir in onions & pepper… and salt if you must.
Heat until thickened (it says to stir constantly, but whatever. I didn’t, and it turned out fine. I also had to turn the heat up to almost medium before it would thicken at all… Betty knows some stuff, but she’s not a magician).

For the chicken, I just cooked some thighs up in my mom’s cast-iron pan, along with half an onion, chopped pretty big, and some sage and some cardamom (another obsession of mine). I just cooked it until it was all done, and then drained it and set it aside until I was ready for it.

Crust: (I would do this after your saucy stuff and chicken are done, so it doesn’t just sit there and dry out.)
1/3 C Crisco (that’s right… Crisco. This ain’t no diet food.)
2 C flour
2 t celery seed
1 t salt
4-5 T water
~Cut the shortening into the flour, celery seed and salt until pieces are the size of small peas (mine never look like peas… they always look like shredded cheese… Betty, I am not.)
~Sprinkle in water, 1 T at a time, tossing with fork until all the loose flour is moistened and it almost cleans the side of the bowl when you stir it around. (I didn’t measure the water at all… I just added a little bit at a time until it seemed like it was the right consistency. Be sure to just toss it with a fork instead of doing some hard-core stirring, because I think when you handle the dough too much it gets tough.)
Use 2/3 of the dough for the bottom, and the other 1/3 for the top.

I improvised a little lot on the vegetables… Betty thinks that a 10-oz. bag of frozen mixed vegetables is going to cut it, but she’s WRONG, folks. Don’t do it. I did some layers… I love me some layers:
Frozen spinach
Chicken mixture
Cut-up baby carrots (that’s what we had…)
Broccoli that was about to go bad, cut up in little pieces (keepin’ it real, people.)
More chicken mix
Frozen french-cut green beans
Frozen corn (I love corn)
the rest of the chicken
the rest of the sauce

I used this really deep crockery-sort of dish that we have, so it’s like the mother of all pot pies. But really, it needed to be that big to fit all the veg I crammed into it. I’m not about the weenie pot pies with two peas, a few carrot slices and 1 piece of chicken (Hey! I never knew there was chicken in this soup!)… I like my stuff to be hearty, and well worth my time.

So you just put all this crap in the crust, and put the top crust on… I always make something pretty in my crusts, because that’s how I roll, but you could just cut a couple slits for ventilation, otherwise your pie might sprout a leak and blow a hole out the top.

I would recommend brushing the crust with a little buttah to make it extra delicious. As I may have mentioned before, this ain’t no diet food. But really, it’s not that bad for you, either. Aside from all the butter. And the Crisco. And the flour. You know. It has veggies! Lots and lots of veggies! That’s all I’m saying.
Bake this puppy uncovered in a 425 oven for about 30 minutes, or until your crust is golden.

I am looking forward to experimenting further, using zucchini and summer squash and “every good thing” (if you can name this movie, I’m just going to say, you have issues. Just like me.) now that I’ve used up all the stuff that was in the freezer.

Here are a couple more pictures for your viewing pleasure:

My sister drew this one on the computer… I love it. I thought he was blowing through his nose onto the pot pie; I am wrong. He is sniffing in the zesty aroma. Yummy, yummy in his tummmmmy. Ho, ho. (Family inside joke)

That’s all folks. Chicken Pot Pie: Eat it.

Buy a beanie; feed my goodwill habit.

New stuff up on my etsy shop and on sevenbacon. I make hats and scarves and stuff… “Oh, she knits?” “Crochets.” (2 million points if you know the movie that’s from). Uh, yeah. Anyways… I make stuff out of yarn, and I usually just give them to people, but I decided to make my genius available to the general public from now on (hold your applause until the end of the post, please. It’s disruptive to the other readers).Oh, my. I’m weird tonight.

So you want to hear the weirdest thing I’ve ever bought at Goodwill? I know you do, so I’ll tell you: a giant bag of fun size (what’s with that name, anyway? Wouldn’t fun size be, like, as big as your head, or like the length of your arm? I’ve always thought that. A half-size candy bar is no kind of fun at all. Continuing on…) AirHeads. You know, the chewy, fruity candy? It’s a mix of flavors, and it’s kind of a strange mix… it’s half “fruit” flavors and half “sour” flavors, except they only have three different kinds in each category. “Fruit” has Watermelon, Blue Raspberry and Cherry (Hello AirHead makers, where is the White Mystery? Huh? Those are the best. And Strawberry), and “Sour” contains Cherry, Blue Raspberry and Apple (Wha? The Apple came out of nowhere. I didn’t even know they made Apple ones). The weird thing is that the sour ones all have the same wrapper… the only way to tell which flavor you have is by searching for a tiny little picture in the lower corner. It’s the weirdest thing. But dude!! They were $1.29! One Freaking Twenty-Nine. That’s so cheap. So yeah. I never thought I would see the day when I would buy food at Goodwill, but man. Who could resist that deal?

I’ve decided that I’ll put a little widget in the sidebar to keep track of peoples’ points. It’s only fair… if you’re going to go through the trouble of wracking your brain for the answer to whatever random quote I vomit out involuntarily, you should get some recognition out of the deal.  (Done, and done.  Behold it there, on the left.)

I’ll leave you now with my (so far) favorite Lolcat:
Goodnight, y’all.

In Which I Discuss The Hazards of Working at a Drive-Through Coffee Shop.

Just a quick post again today… I have a bunch of junior high & high school girls coming over to spend the night. It’ll be great.

These are my running (though that isn’t what I use them for… you will never see me run. Anyway…) shoes. I originally bought them to wear to work. I used to work at a coffee drive-through, and our stand was built back in the day when you weren’t allowed to plumb in– you had to be completely portable– so we had RV-style water & waste removal systems.

We had to fill a water tank inside the shop with water using a hose, and everything that went down the sink went into a portable holding tank that we then dumped into a special hole in the ground. Let me tell you… that blue waste tank was the bane of my existence. It was caked with sour milk and coffee grounds and gunk from the powdery mixes we used in our blended drinks. It was nasty, and it wouldn’t come clean, because it was like seven years of accumulated muck. So you would have to take the drain hose out of it, put a cap on it and wheel it over to the hole in the ground so you could dump it. It was heavy and it stank, and basically it was The Worst part about my job, hands down. Then one day the city started doing construction right behind us, and they tore up the parking lot that we wheeled the tank across to get to the hole where we would dump it, so it was just a big field of mud and grossness when it was rainy (which, hello… this is Oregon. It rains a lot). I would always wear flipflops to work, because that’s the way I roll, but after awhile of this rain and mud and getting my feet nasty (one of my biggest pet peeves), I decided I had to protect myself and get me some real shoes. And I figured while I was at it, I might as well get shoes that would last a long time, and be good arch support and all that stuff. So yeah. I went to Mervyn’s and bought this pair of New Balance whatever-sport-they’re-for shoes, and I wear them frequently now.

End of line.