These are basically muffins that taste like donuts. Take them out of the oven when they still seem a little soft and are not yet crusty on top for the best, most delicious results. You can coat them in cinnamon sugar or serve them plain. Once again, these are vegan, but feel free to use the "real" ingredients as you see fit.
1/2 cup raw sugar
1 1/2 cups flour
1 3/4 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 cup shortening
1 Ener-G-Egg replacer “egg”, beaten
1/4 cup soymilk
1 cup grated fresh apple
1 tsp. vanilla extract
The choose it, or lose its:
1/2 cup melted margarine
1/3 cup raw sugar
1 tsp. cinnamon
Combine sugar, flour, baking powder, salt and nutmeg in a large bowl.
Cut in shortening with 2 forks as you would as if you were making a pastry.
In another small bowl, whisk together the apple, milk, egg and vanilla.
Add the apple mixture to the flour mixture and mix all together quickly and thoroughly.
Let the dough sit for about 30 minutes and preheat your oven to 350.
Grease muffin tins or use paper cupcake liners and fill each muffin tin approximately 2/3 full with dough. (Use a mini muffin pan for donut holes!)
Bake for 20-25 minutes or until golden on top.
When the donuts (muffins) are done, remove from oven and melt the butter for the topping.
Combine the cinnamon and sugar in a small bowl.
Roll each muffin in melted butter and then dip each one in the cinnamon-sugar mixture until completely coated.
The most deliciousness is achieved when they are served still warm. Enjoy these with a cup of tea or hot cider and some peace and quiet on a crisp autumn morning.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Today is the day my husband look at one another and say, "Yes, I do, all over again". This is for him:
If my husband were a woman, he would make other women jealous with his lightning fast metabolism and slender thighs. He would be despised.
If my husband were a woman, I am quite certain that Calvin and Jude would have been breastfed for as long as they liked. He never would have complained about cracked nipples, sleepless nights or leaky boobs. He instead would have basked in the motherly bond.
If my husband were a woman, he would never spend time or money on getting a manicure or pedicure. He would never consider dyeing or highlighting his hair. There would be no waxing of eyebrows, no makeup or conditioner. He would be a natural woman.
If my husband were a woman, he would not be obsessed with cute shoes or sassy handbags. He would still only need about two pairs of shoes and a multi-purpose diaper bag. He would not be the kind of woman who cared that brown shoes don't go with black pants. He would be confident enough in himself not to be a slave to fashion. He would be comfortable.
If my husband were a woman, he would be a stay-at-home mom and love every minute of it. The house would be clean, the laundry would be folded and put away regularly. The house would smell of delicious and nutricious home cooked meals every night. He would be a nurturer.
If my husband were a woman, he would wear the baby in a sling and commune with nature on a daily basis. He would be a crunchy Disney princess, a friend to animals and nature, without all the makeup and fancy dresses and shoes. He would be an earth mother.
If my husband were a woman, he would never complain about needing time by himself. He would never take issue with being home with small children all day. He would make the most of every day and take pleasure in all of the small and amazing things the children discover every day. He would never cry or yell or scream, or mark the days until Girls' Night Out. He would be satisfied.
If my husband were a woman, I would wish to be more like him.
Matt, thank you for the best 12 years of my life. You are the only one, forever. I love you.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
In light of the turmoil The Claymates are experiencing right now, I thought I would post something dedicated to them.
I used to have a habit of falling in love with gay boys. This one's for them.
The first gay boy I ever had a crush on was Jason. We met at an infamous Dan party when I was 15, and I was smitten. We danced all night long and I had butterflies in my belly when he asked me to walk him to his car to say goodnight. He gave me his phone number and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I think I grinned for the entire three days following. Then, he dropped the bomb. Or rather, my friends dropped the bomb on me (baby). Jay went to a different school, but word quickly got around that the boy I was dreaming was going to be my boyfriend was a homosexual. A homophobic girl in pink corduroys told me, "stay away from him. His lifestyle is gross." He was 16, how much of a "lifestyle" could he have cultivated? I ignored the bigots (see I was a dissenter even then) and accepted Jason and his friendship, always holding out hope that he would decide he loved boobs (and I had a great rack by all accounts) and wanted to have me for his girlfriend. It didn't work out that way. I took him to my sophomore semi-formal and he showed up in a suit the EXACT same color of teal as my dress (hey it was the early 90s). Things quickly went downhill from there and we gradually stopped spending time together. The last time I ran into him was at an AIDS dance-a-thon benefit, he was with his boyfriend. Sigh...
The next boy on the list, was actually a boy who fell for me, sorta. He is my friend Ali and we had been friends for a while, when out of the blue he asked that same homophobic girl in pink corduroys to ask me out. Now, I think he was either a junior or senior at the time and it struck me funny that we had a go between to do the asking. Now, I loved Ali, but there was no denying he was gay. I never had a crush on him because I knew going in, "This boy is gay." He didn't realize it at the time, but I think we all knew. I told him no, and we remained amazing friends. I regret that he asked me to his senior prom and I turned him down and made him ask another girl who he had a "crush" on, who ended up ruining his night. I couldn't get past the fact that he had once had a crush on me and I didn't want to lead him on. God, I was an idiot! When I moved to Michigan 9 years ago, Ali told me he had some news he needed to share with me before he left. We got together and he solemnly told me he had just discovered he was gay! At the time he was 21 and I had known him for about 9 years and in all the time I had never suspected anything else. When I told him that I already knew, it didn't go over well. He eventually moved to NY and leads the life he has always wanted. He is a success as a gay man, in a way he could never be in the closet. He is amazing and I am so proud of him for facing himself and choosing to be happy. He spends hours with his friends dissecting figure skating in great detail and developing his own cabaret shows (and he is much cooler than that statement makes him sound).
The last one, is the one that was the most painful, because I was in LOVE with this boy. We were the stars in our senior musical and Andy and I hit it off right away, despite never having said a word to each other before. From the first day of rehearsal I felt like this boy was destine to be in my life. I was flirting and blushing and being saucy and he played right along. One night we slept over at the home of a mutual friend and we ended up sharing a room alone that night. Whispering in the dark he told me he was gay. I felt my heart drop to my toes and I was so thankful that he couldn't see the tears slip down my cheeks in the dark. He told me he knew how I felt and he was sorry, which really didn't help me much, but the sentiment was nice. I mean can a teenage girl get a fucking break here or what?? Like your ego isn't minute enough as a teenager, exactly what you need is to keep falling in love with boys who only want to fall in love with boys!! I was in a miserable funk for weeks and finally knew what in meant to have a broken heart. My friend Rachael, who is the most wonderful shit, sent me the most fantastic note that I still remember to this...
"I know it hurts. You really need a girly night. We will go to Denny's, smoke and then come back to my house and get drunk and cry."
Yup, exactly what the doctor ordered. It was one of the best girl bonding nights I ever had and it really did help me get over my crush. We remained friends and continued to be perverted and immature and I never felt an ounce of attraction after that. I did however begin to think I was only ever going to like gay boys and was going to be a life long hag.
Lucky for me, the same summer all of my friends, gay and straight (there were a few) were planning their college careers I met the man who would become my husband. We are 13 years in and he hasn't come out yet. I am holding out hope that this one might last.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
I am the president of my local chapter of MOMS Club International. Last year our chapter decided to assemble a cookbook for our annual fundraiser. We still have about 30 cookbooks leftover, and I am pushing these things on all the membership to try and get them off my hands and out of my garage.
Recently at our monthly business meeting one of our moms bought a cookbook, which costs $10. She handed me a $20 and asked for change, so I gave her $10 change from my wallet. Now, for the last week it has bothered me to no end that I gave her $10, and I would have to deposit the $10 she paid for the cookbook to the treasury, so in my mind, I was out $10! I mean, I gave her $10, and I would have to give the treasury $10, so I was losing money, right?
My husband kindly talked me down off the ledge, explained that when she gave me the $10, I now had $30, so I gave $10 to her, I keep $10, and the treasury gets $10. He needed to use his fingers as a visual aid. And, he did all this without laughing once. I, however, was crying I was laughing so hard at my own stupidity.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
I have been laughing at this before Tina Fey did her bit on SNL last weekend. While Tina Fey's impersonation is much more realistic, I love the over-the-top zaniness of this! Enjoy.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
It’s happening already. My daughter, who isn’t even 4 yet, already hates the way she looks. She already hates her hair, and that it is “different” from everyone else’s.
As I got her ready for preschool the other day I gave her a shower, and took a long time combing out each and every tiny ringlet that crowns her head. I painstakingly untangled every knot, and when I was finished her hair was glistening, bouncy and healthy. Rather than pull it up in her signature style (pigtails), I thought she should wear it down. Before I was even finished with her hair she started melting down.
“I want to wear my hair up Mommy”, she wailed.
“No Dani, I think we should wear it down today and give your scalp a rest. Okay?”, I coaxed.
Then the water works started in earnest, “No Mommy, everyone will stare at me because my hair looks silly. I don’t want people to see it.”
Now I wanted to cry! She is 3!! How can she already be feeling like her appearance isn’t good enough, that somehow people will laugh at her because of her hair? Why is this happening so young?
My daughter is probably going to have a life filled with explaining why she looks different from her parents and her brothers. She is never going to have a curtain of satiny hair that she can toss over her shoulder. She might never feel like she fits in, at home or at school. I guess it’s good, in a way, that this is starting early, so that by the time she is in middle school, and girls get cliquey and mean, she might already be armed with a self-esteem that is impenetrable.
I sat her in front of a mirror and told her how beautiful she is. I told her that her hair makes her special, it might be different than her classmates, and that is a good thing. I told her if people stare, it is because her hair is so different, they are going to want to know what if feels like, why is curls the way it does, and they are going to wish they had her hair too.
My daughter is beautiful there is no denying this. Her hair is a billion little black corkscrews, her eyes are so black you can almost not see a pupil, her skin is like silky chocolate, her eyes are enormous and beautiful, framed by perfectly curled eyelashes that you normally only see on a doe. She has a smile that lights up a room, she has the kind of empathy that can’t be taught, she is a natural nurturer, she is the kind of girl who find a bug inside the house and she gently scoops it up and returns it to it’s home in the outdoors. When her younger brother hurts her and he is crying after I reprimand him, it is Dani that goes and comforts him and makes him laugh again. No one taught her these things, they are instinctual, I can only hope that she will learn that these are what matter, and not her hair or the color of her skin, or whether she has X or Y chromosomes.
She has everything else she needs to be successful this will be the only thing I will need to teach her for her to make it in this world, and it is the biggest lesson of them all. Pray for me.
Monday, September 15, 2008
How bad must Sarah Palin really be that 3 out of 4 of her BFFs will not publicly endorse her? I guess McCain missed the mark when he chose her thinking anything with a vagina was going to be swayed, huh? Although, one BFF says that Sarah is, "as honest as the day is long." Well, that is really saying something, in ALASKA. I think some people are going to be asked to turn in their friendship rings.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Apparently, I have pissed off a few of my friends for posting my political views in public. To which I say...
Unless you have walked in my shoes for the last eight years, please don’t tell me to keep my opinions on the upcoming elections to myself.
Unless you stood with me, 8 months pregnant, in my living room on September 11, 2001 and watched the Twin Towers fall, and a President ignore all the warnings so he could vacation and rubbed your belly wondering what the hell kind of world you were bringing a child into.
Unless you had to move out of state to stay ahead of the looming layoffs at your husband’s job, leaving behind the only home your children had ever known, and friends that had become family.
Unless you had to juggle two mortgages, and take huge losses every month on a home that you couldn’t sell because of a terribly mismanaged housing market.
Unless you watched your son struggle to get the attention he deserves as an exceptionally gifted student because the schools are grossly underfunded and simply focus on meeting No Child Left Behind standards.
Unless you have cried because your daughter was so behind in speech development, but were told she didn’t qualify for therapy services because the funding for services is so limited only the very, very delayed qualify.
Unless you have watched charter school after charter school open in the richest parts of town, on the tax-payer dime, under the guise of being open to the public, only to find out that no busing, and no free lunch programs are available, and shook your head in disgust at just another publicly funded private school for the wealthy, while your children's public school continues to flounder without appropriate funding.
Unless you have watched your husband’s company all but close it’s doors, keeping a small skeleton crew, and wondered when the other shoe was going to drop and he was going to join the ranks of the unemployed, and you have three small children, and two houses that you can’t offload thanks to the growing mortgage and housing crisis, and you just watched 200 of your friends and co-workers lose their jobs.
Unless you have lived in my shoes, and been kept up nights with fear, please, allow me to have my say, and ignore it if you choose. THIS is what makes America great, the ability to have a say and an opinion, and I refuse to let that be one more thing this government will take from me.
I am one of the lucky ones. I can’t imagine walking in the shoes of those who have no job, have no home, and don’t know where their children’s next meal is coming from. Or the young woman who finds herself pregnant and is so frightened of how she is going to finish college and care for a baby.
Things are very, very bad in this country, and we just cannot take another year, another month, another day, another hour, another minute of leaders who care nothing about those of us living in the middle and low income tax brackets of America, which is MOST of us. I am very fearful of what another 4 years of a Republican administration would do to my family and yours. So, forgive me if I just can’t keep my mouth shut.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
I cannot for the life of me fathom why anyone would vote for them, or buy an ounce of their bullshit. THIS is a perfect example of who they are, what they believe, and their war on the middle and lower classes. Their greed and deregulation of the industry caused the mortgage crisis in the first place, and allowed huge corporations to prey on consumers. Stay classy, Republicans.
As the soot and dirt and ash rained down, We are We are The Power of One. by, Cheryl Sawyer
We became one color.
As we carried each other down the stairs of the burning building,
We became one class.
As we lit candles of waiting and hope,
We became one generation.
As the firefighters and police officers fought their way into the inferno,
We became one gender.
As we fell to our knees in prayer for strength,
We became one faith.
As we whispered or shouted words of encouragement,
We spoke one language.
As we gave our blood in lines a mile long,
We became one body.
As we mourned together the great loss,
We became one family.
As we cried tears of grief and loss,
We became one soul.
As we retell with pride of the sacrifice of heroes,
We become one people.
We are United.
We are America.
As the soot and dirt and ash rained down,
We are The Power of One.
by, Cheryl Sawyer
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
I an Op-Ed in the New York Times and thought it was fantastic. It seems that liberals can't get any credit when election time rolls around and we are fantastically maligned and abhored by conservatives. This proves that liberals, especially liberals in government have offered significant contributions to society. So liberals, hold your head up, we have a history to be proud of.
Posted by Fat Chick at 11:22 AM
We bought our new house last July, so I figured it was finally time that I settled into organizing our bedroom closet this weekend. It was time to unpack the boxes, sort out the items ready for donation to Goodwill, and to finally make room to walk, in the walk-in closet.
I put on my iPod, the husband had the kids outside playing and I got into a groove. As I was folding, hanging and sorting, some of my most treasured and beloved items of clothing surfaced. My beat-up, second hand, tattered and worn leather jacket, a pair of size 4 (!!!) jeans, and a concert t-shirt from my first birthday spent with my husband, my 18th. 12 years later, I can't part with any of these things. I haven't been able to fit into any of them in over 6 years now, but Goodwill will never get their mitts on these. I hung them together to make an outfit, and hung the ensemble on the highest rod of my closet, facing outward where I will get to see them every time I open that closet door. I started to feel a little nostaligic for that time before we had kids, when it was just us, the romance was new, we were still finding our bearings, and we couldn't stop smiling. Those were the days when we still felt nervous around one another, we were always trying to be silly, or witty, and I was falling in love. That one outfit brought back so many long forgotten memories, that get overlooked in the muck and the mire of every day life. And, the woman, or girl really, I used to be, the girl who wanted nothing more than to go to a rock show at a club for her birthday, the girl who took chances, and who thought nothing of wearing a very ugly, and very beat-up leather jacket everywhere she went.
Under a tangle of sweaters, I caught a peek of a brown piece of material that I couldn't place. After unearthing it, I found it to be my favorite maternity shirt from my last pregnancy, over a year ago now. Under the shirt was my favorite pair of pregnancy jeans, clam diggers on anyone else, capris on my 5'1" frame. I could feel the tears welling up as I thought about that shirt pulled taut across my belly, the waist of the jeans resting below the pregnancy swell. I felt gorgeous in that outfit. In that outfit it didn't matter that I would never see a size 4 again, it didn't matter that I had stretch marks that wouldn't fade, it didn't matter that my skin was experiencing a pregnancy breakout. I felt alive, sassy, cute, and happier than I remembered being with the first baby. Perhaps because this pregnancy was an unexpected surprise, perhaps because the other two kids were here to enjoy it and see a new baby brought to our family, perhaps because I just loved being pregnant. Whatever the reason, that outfit held some of the warmest and loveliest memories of motherhood. That outfit too is hanging in the closet, next the other, where I can see it and remember those times. And, that baby, nestled snug and warm inside me, squirming and wriggling, to remind me I was never alone. That baby just turned 1 year-old last week, and like every birthday, it was bittersweet. Funny how a simple piece of cloth can make me feel and remember the joy I experienced during that pregnancy.
Maybe there is some merit to the childhood fear of Boogey-men living in closets. For me, clothes hold very specific and often dear memories. Some that haunt me, some that bring me back and make me wistful, and some that make me ache for times long gone. It is always with a heavy heart that I sort through the kids dressers, or bring a box to Goodwill, because while for some it is just clothes, for me it is another stitch in the fabric of time that I am giving away. I hope whoever wears these clothes when we are done with them will have good times and fond memories in them too. Is it just a coincidence that in literature closets are often the place of magic lands, secrets and great adventure? I don't think so.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
This is one of my all-time favorite recipes. Since we are vegan, I have taken a "regular" recipe and veganized it. If you want to make it the regular way, just use the "real" ingredients instead of the vegan versions. I also give a you a few optional ways of making this, but use your imagination and get creative with this yummy, moist, melt-in-your-mouth cake!
The must haves
1 cup vegan margarine (I prefer Earth Balance)
1 cup of sugar
2 Ener-G-Egg Replacer "eggs"
2 tsp. vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour (or spelt, or whole wheat PASTRY for a more nutritional cake)
1 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
8 oz. tofutti brand sour cream
The chose it or lose its
1/2 cup chopped pecans
2 TBSP brown sugar
2 tsp. ground cinnamon
Optional crumb topping:
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup cold margarine, cubed
1/2 cup flour
cinnamon to taste (optional)
chopped nuts (optional)
1 1/2 cups chocolate chips
1 1/4 cups powdered sugar, sifted
4 tsp. water
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
1. Preheat your oven to 375F, and grease a 10-inch Bundt-pan, or springform pan. I have also made this cake into muffcakes(muffins/cupcakes), using a muffin pan and cupcake liners.
2. If you are using a filling, or crumb topping, combine those ingredients now and set aside. For the filling, just mix the ingredients well until the sugar is coated with the cinnamon. For the crumb topping, cut the cold margarine pieces into the sugar, flour,cinnamon and nuts, as you would a pastry dough, until you have small pea size pieces.
3. In a large bowl or stand mixer, cream margarine, gradually adding sugar, beating until fluffy.
4. Add eggs, beat well. Add vanilla, beat to combine.
5. In another bowl, combine flour, baking powder, and soda. Slowly add this to the creamed mixture, alternating with dollops of the sour cream, beginning and ending with the flour mixture. Mix gently until all ingredients are wet, do not over mix. Now would also be the time to add chocolate chips, if you are using them.
6. If you are using the filling: spoon half the batter into the pan, sprinkle the sugar/pecan mixture over the batter, spread rest of batter over filling.
7. If you are using the crumb topping, I suggest a spring form pan, or muffcakes. Pour all batter into pan, sprinkle crumb topping over batter.
8. Bake at 375F for 35-40 minutes, or until cake tests done.
9. Cool 5 minutes in pan, on a wire rack. If using Bundt pan, turn cake onto wire rack and allow to cool. If using springform pan, you can allow the cake to cool right in the pan.
10. Allow cake to cool, you can glaze it while it is still slightly warm.
11. For glaze, combine all ingredients, whisking well to make a smooth glaze. Add more water as necessary to reach desired consistency. Drizzle over cooled cake.
12. Enjoy with tea, hot chocolate, homemade iced coffee, a good book or a girlfriend and some gossip! Store leftovers, if there are any, in an airtight container. Will keep for about a week.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Now, I admit there are plenty of reasons to dislike this broad. Her position on drilling in the Arctic Wildlife Refuge, her support of abstinence-only programs (which apparently don't even work in her own home, never mind in schools across the nation!), her cozy relationship to indicted Senator Ted Stevens, which she now denies. Her support of the “bridge to nowhere”, which she conveniently supported until the $398 million were sent to her state for the project, and then were not returned to the federal government when the deal fell through. As a small town mayor her first act was to go to the local library and ask how she would go about banning books. She vehemently opposes the addition of polar bears to the endangered species list, because it might interfere with a $35 million oil pipeline she wants built, and that pesky Endangered Species Act means that the oil industry must limit the production of greenhouse gases where endangered species make their habitat. Fucking obnoxious polar bears. So anyway, Sarah Palin sucks.
HOWEVER, I resent he implication that Sarah Palin is not capable of being VP, SIMPLY because she has a newborn baby. Now, I can agree that she is an inexperienced tool bag, and I hate her stance on ALL issues and clearly she is woefully, inadequately equipped to be one heartbeat away from the presidency. But I do not agree that because she is a mother of young children she is unable, or should not attempt to run for a powerful office. There are plenty of other reasons to dislike her, this should not be one of them.
Not only do I feel like this is a bad commentary on the archaic view society still has of women, but it disgusts me that people still think that men are incapable of rearing children just as well as, or even better than, a woman. I know my husband got up with kids at night, sat up with sick kids, he does laundry, he does dishes, he changes diapers. And, let's face it, the VP is going to have a lot of staff at her disposal, so laundry, dishes and mealtime aren't really going to be on her daily to-do-list.
When I look at men like Joe Biden, who was a widower and almost turned down his Senatorial seat to care for his young boys, and Obama, who has young girls, I see men who seem to be able to balance both. By all accounts, Clinton was a very involved father, attending dance recitals and parent/teacher conferences. I do not think these men are incredible by today's standards. Maybe, just maybe, more men would be encouraged to be the primary caregiver and more involved parents if they see examples of powerful men balancing work and family.
I think it is a sad double standard in our nation that we expect women to give up careers for the sake of kids, or that we think that men who care for children somehow become more feminine and less manly. On the flip side, when a woman is strong, or powerful, we call her manly, or a bitch. Why can't it be up to a woman, her husband and their family to decide what is best for them and how the duties will fall?
Oh and in case you haven’t heard, “Bitches get stuff done”. – Tina Fey
(We just may not like exactly what this bitch gets done, just saying.)
Friday, September 5, 2008
This is the oldest and the Grand Poobah of the beasties, The Honeybee. He is 6 going on 60, a wise old soul with a fantastic sense of humor, and the vocabulary and reading skills of a college student. The funniest thing the Bee ever said?:
While staying with my in-laws my son noticed a photo of his grandparents taken 15 years earlier. He picked it up and said to my mother-in-law, "This is like a before picture and now you are the after."
This one over here ----->
is The Dani. She is almost 4, and is showing off her big girl school clothes on her first day of preschool. She is the mother hen to her younger brother, and the best friend and play mate of The Honeybee. The Dani, I am almost certain, is going to be a star athlete, and loves to be active and any sport involving a ball. What has she said that made me belly laugh?:
The Dani hates dinner. She is a picky, picky eater. A few months ago I was making macaroni and "cheese" and Dani asked what we were having. I said, "Macaroni and cheese, you like that, right?" And she replied, "Well, I hope so!"
This sweet baby boy is The Jooch. Soon to be 2, The Jooch is the house mischief maker and all-around naughty guy. Despite that, he is gorgeous, hilarious, and gives a darn good smooch (or mooch, as he calls it). The Jooch is a total mama's boy, and this mama wouldn't have it any other way. Not to be outdone by his very vibrant siblings, The Jooch has a funny bone too:
The other day I took The Jooch's diaper off for his bath, he reached down, grabbed his penis and yelled, "TAIL!". As I was re-diapering him, he was still grabbing his "tail", and I explained that it is called a penis. He started to fuss when the diaper went on, yelling, "I want penis!"
And, the beast that started it all The Buzz, is this fine man right here. He is a father, a husband, a best friend, a big brother, a pilot, a runner, a cyclist, an athlete, a vegan, an
activist, a gentleman, and he doesn't half-ass any of them. The Buzz is my hero, my voice of reason, and my world. With him, all things are possible. The biggest chill pill dosage The Buzz ever gave me?:
"Now, I'm just gonna throw this out there before you lose it completely; It's. Only. Play-doh."
These are my beasts, and no, you can not have them!
Thursday, September 4, 2008
I made a friend. I made a wonderful, special, very dear-to-me friend. She makes me laugh and she has made me cry. She gives me advice when I ask for it, and sometimes when I don't. She has given me a dose of tough love once or twice, because she knew I needed it, and she was right. I call her about everything, even before I call my mother. She has become so important to my life, and I met her on-line. I figure if people can marry someone they met on-line, I can make a best gal pal on-line, and not have to justify it to anyone.
Last month, my darling hubs stayed home with the three beasts while I traveled to the big city to "meet" my girlfriend for the first time! We had been friends for a year and a half, and talk 5 or 6 times a day, so I wasn't scared that she was going to really turn out to be a 45 year-old 600lb. man who lives in the basement with his mother and was luring me to the other side of the country to lock me in his dungeon and use me as his sex slave. Rather, it felt like I was making a commitment and saying that this was a true friendship. Some of my "real life" friends gave me strange looks, and told me to call them to let them know I was safe. I couldn't help but laugh, because I KNOW this woman. I know her like I have known her my whole life.
It was only a long weekend that I spent with her and her adorable family, but it was wonderful. We walked around the city, we shopped, and ate, and ate and shopped. We talked and visited, I met her sister and her brother-in-law. Her husband cooked a delicious meal just for me. It was perfect, and I left there with the proof that our friendship was real, and that we would be friends for a long time to come.
There are a lot of phonies out there, there is a lot of internet fraud. There are a lot of nasty, conniving, evil, vindictive people who are so miserable in their lives that their only outlet is to harass and abuse people on-line. I have met some of those people in my internet travels, but for everyone of them, there is a gem to be found amongst the rubble. I found my gem. I call her Susie, and her friendship is as precious to me as any diamond. I would once again suffer fools gladly just to have met her.
Susie, you really are a star, your birth certificate does not lie! Thank you, I love you much!