Plenipotentiary

Hubby is stuck in Toronto for the weekend. Aparently, it’s snowing.

This sucks on many levels:

Due to the nature of his job, Hubby travels during the week, and we only get to see him on weekends. Now it’ll be two weeks with no Hubby.

We had a romantic getaway to DC planned for this weekend. No romance for me! Or Hubby, for that matter.

So now I have a weekend alone. I think I’ll go to DC anyway, and hang with my BFF.

But I’m sad. And kinda pissed.

…everyone else is doing it, and I’ve always been one of the herd, so I’ll follow along. (I can hear my mother snorting at that lie from 100 miles away.)

1) Ever been in a relationship lasting over 5 years?

Most of them, actually. I’ve had four serious relationships in my life. One of them I’m married to. Two of them I’m still friendly with and communicate with fairly regularly (you know, Christmas cards and the like), so if that counts as part of the relationship they’ve all been over five years. (I’m a pretty loyal, or possibly just very stubborn, gal.)

2) What was one of your dreams growing up?

Singer. Writer. First female president of the United States.

3) What talent do you wish you had?

Will power. Is that a talent?

4) If I bought you a drink what would it be?

Diet Vanilla Coke.

5) Favorite books?

Better to list authors as listing books would take a while. Top ten are probably Orson Scott Card, Robert Heinlein, John Scalzi, Octavia Butler, Mark Twain, Alexandre Dumas, Madeline L’Engle, Arthur Clarke, Ray Bradbury, and James Halperin (of The Truth Machine and The First Immortalfame. Where’d he go?).

6) What was the last book you read?

Currently re-reading Dawn by Octavia Butler, listening to The Night Listenerby Armistead Maupin, and trying to get through East of the Sun, West of the Moon by John Ringo (Ringo and Weber are really more Hubby’s thing than mine, but I try). Just finished Kushiel’s Scion by Jacqueline Carey. Don’t know where I’m headed next. I’m open to suggestions.

7) Astrology: Menace to science education or entertainment?

I don’t see that it has much impact either way. I don’t think it’s important enough to be considered a menace, really, but I don’t find it especially entertaining, either.

8 ) Any tattoos and/or piercings? Explain where.

Ears pierced. That’s it, and if I hadn’t been pretty young (seven or so) when I did that, I wouldn’t even have gone that far. I’m terrified (like cold sweat, shakes, elevated blood pressure, and a strong desire to run kind of terrified) of needles. The idea of getting a tattoo makes my mind go numb.

9) Worst habit?

Laziness.

10) Best attribute?

Loyalty, I guess.

11) What are your favorite hobbies?

Reading, learning new things, crocheting, messing about on the computer, movies, and travel.

12) Do you have a negative or optimistic attitude?

Optimistic. Almost always. Many think this is naive of me.  

13) What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator with me?

I think if it was Shawn and me (the guy I swiped the meme from), we’d be cracking each other up by the fourth floor. Mostly, though, I stare at the door after doing the polite half smile. Unless I’m with my kids, in which case I’m trying to hold all six of their limbs to keep them from pressing all the buttons or hitting each other.

14) Worst thing to ever happen to you?

That’s a tough one, actually. Death, divorce, heartbreak, illness… there’re so many options.

15) Best thing to ever happen to you?

Marriage, children, friends, family, travel… Same deal. Many, many options.

16) Tell me one weird fact about you.

I pronounce words oddly, and occasionally accent the wrong syllables (Thanksgiving instead of Thanksgiving). And sometimes Hubby catches me with a little Valley Girl in my speech, which is exceedingly embarrassing.

17) What if I showed up at your house unexpectedly?

You’d be invited in. I would offer you food and drink. And then I’d probably make you babysit.

18) What was your first impression of me?

Goofy in a good way, and kind.

19) What scares you?

Needles. And losing someone I love.

20) If you could change one thing about how you are, what would it be?

I would be more ambitious.

21) Would you be my crime partner or my conscience?

I liked Jim’s answer: conscientious crime partner.

22) What color eyes do you have?

Grey-blue-green. They change.

23) Ever been arrested? If so, what for?

Kinda. I was protesting US involvement in the war in Nicaragua and El Salvador back in college. We blockaded the Pentagon. The police put twistie-ties on my wrists, sat me in a van, and called my parents.

24) Favorite dessert?

Not really a sweets kinda gal, but probably chocolate mousse.

25) If you won $1000 today, what would you do with it?

Pay bills. Get my house power-washed and my chimney swept. 

26) Tell me something you want me to know about you.

I want to live in Ireland.

27) What’s your favorite place to hang out?

Right where I am.

28) Do you believe in ghosts? Aliens?

Ghosts, no. Aliens, yes. And like almost everyone else, I don’t think any have visited us.

29) Favorite thing to do in your spare time?

Read. Eat sushi.

30) Do you swear a lot?

Not anymore. Though I dropped a few f-bombs at the blackjack table last time I was in Vegas.

31) Biggest pet peeve?

Hubby and the kids leave their shoes everywhere. This drives me nuts.

32) In one word, how would you describe yourself?

Goofy.

33) Do you believe in/appreciate romance?

Depends. I’m not overly romantic, but I get a lift every time Hubby brings me flowers.

34) Most unusual place you’ve had sex?

I’m reminded of the Newlywed Game blooper. Snort if you remember that one…

35) Do you believe in an afterlife?

I hope for one, but I don’t believe down deep. This really troubles Hubby.

Your turn!

Saw this on The Penultimate Word, and had to swipe it. Hillaryous!

Cartoon by Daryl Cagle

I stole this from Jim, who stole it from Janiece. And so on, and so on…)

I find myself surprised. I was kinda hoping for Octavia Butler. I wouldn’t have thought Asimov.

I am: Isaac Asimov One of the most prolific writers in history, on any imaginable subject. Cared little for art but created lasting and memorable tales.

Which science fiction writer are you?

Hubby’s in Toronto. Riding the Metro this morning, he was perusing the local paper, and came across and advertisement for the most amazing thing: Evil Dead, the Musical! Brilliant!

And my passport needs to be renewed. Little chance I can get that done before the show ends…

Maybe they’ll come to DC?

I just sent my son out the door on his first ever attempt at walking our dog.

He looked nervous.

I’m petrified.

He’s trying to train for the 10K that’s happening here in Richmond in early April. He’s been trying to do three miles per day. He’s been failing, regularly.

He thought that maybe with the dog he’d have some incentive.

See, the dog’s a pit mix I got from the pound ten years ago. She’s an aging pit mix with a sweet disposition, but if you’re a cat, rabbitt, or squirrel, you’re lunch and that’s all there is to say about it.

My 11 (almost 12) son could not possibly hold this dog away from chosen prey. Likely my son will be bloodied by the road while she runs.

I’m staring at the door.

He’s not back yet.

I am the worst mother that ever was. Truly. What kind of mother would look at this boy and his intentions, and say, “OK, just stay in sight of the house”? He’s road pizza. It’s pitch black night outside. This dog has taken him for a run, and now I have to feel guilty about both of them.

Motherhood sucks.

Where is he, Godd*mnit!?

Still not back….

He was at his chess club this afternoon (yes, that’s how nerdy we are. Eldest Son is vying for first place in the chess club. In sixth grade. So sue me.) and he told me again that he wanted to run the 10K but he wasn’t sure he had the wind.

So I let him go.

I’m still staring at the door….

…..

…..

He’s home!

I’m weeping at his feet (figuratively). (And litelerally.)

He says, “You promised me two dollars for walking the dog? And…

…now I have to play the end game for his tournament tomorrow.

I suck at chess, but now he feels entitled to my end game.

Did I mention that motherhood sucks?

**I  beat my son two games out of three at chess. He’s now more angry at me than he’s ever been. I put him in mate when he had two knights to my six pawns.  And then he walked the dog. His hatred for me is red hot.

Now, I know the LOLCat thing is over. But it’s still good for a smile when you need one. I Can Has Cheeseburger is the mega-LOL storehouse, and I can spend some serious time there, laughing my head off.

And I don’t even have cats… Hubby hates them. Odd, as he’s both a Twain fan and a Heinlein fan. I didn’t think people who were into Twain and Heinlein were allowed to dislike cats? Isn’t that one of the rules?

Scalzi had a post not long ago about ten things he’s done that he didn’t think anyone else had done. Though this is eerily similar to a drinking game I played in college, and I try to avoid such games these days, I thought I’d try it this time without the shots of liqueur. I’ll try to keep it chronological, but it all gets mixed up. Forgive:

1. While celebrating the Fourth of July on the White House lawn with my parents (Dad worked for the President at the time, and I think Mom did, too), I managed to get past the Secret Service in order to ask Rosilyn Carter where the bathroom was. By tugging on her sleeve while she was giving an interview in front of cameras. I was seven or so. Gracious woman that she is, she escorted me. I had no clue. How sad that that was my 15 minutes. (I was on the 11:00 news that night.) (I could not, however, get anywhere near Amy or her new puppy, which was all I cared about at the time.)
2. I rode in a (I think it was a Chevy) Grenada with my Amma, my Aunt Hulda,  and five kids from Virginia to California. Yes, that’s five children, two adults, and 3,000 miles. At the end of the trip I threw up in my uncle’s Volkswagen Beetle in Huntington Beach, California.
3. I kissed Lorne Greene on the cheek when the family took a Chex Mix-sponsored flight on a double-decker plane to Hawaii. Awesome and memorable vacation. I walked through lava tubes. Fell for a Hawaiian boy (I was 13), and danced with my Daddy while he was wearing a grass skirt. (I have pictures. You can’t run, now, Dad. I can be bought.)
4. I sang with Stanley Jordan. I sang with Farrakhan’s choir. I sang at the Shiloh Baptist Church (special place). I sang on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial (special place as well). I cut an album with an opera cast. (Did I mention I sang?)
5. I sat in a canoe while men with impossibly large calves hauled me up the Pagsanjan River in the Philippines. Then I got so sick (Dengue Fever, right?) that I didn’t know where I was for three days. Fell face down in a bowl of rice. Daddy freaked out. Mom (on the other side of the planet) freaked out. I would’ve freaked out, but I was unconscious. Soul-defining moment. Long way from home. I recovered. I remembered.
6. I had a passel of Korean children touch me for luck while touring Seoul, Korea. (Thanks, Dad. And thanks to the summer sun that had turned my hair white, and the weird twist of fate that had me still wearing braces at 20.) I was a vision to these kids – must’ve looked like I was from another planet. I ate kimchi. Dad took me to where the ‘locals’ ate. He didn’t even smirk at me when I retched, though it must have cost him. (Again, thanks, Dad. Blech.) I learned how to ask for the bathroom and beer (uh, reverse order) in Korean. And Chinese. And Japanese.
7. I was in a foreign country (Italy) when my own country went to war. I was 21 or so. I watched a bunch of Italians burn an image of an American soldier in effigy (while displaying a sheet with the lyrics of John Lennon’s “Imagine” next to it. I think they missed the point). I finally learned something about how the world feels about Americans.
8. His Holiness Pope John Paul II patted my cheek, after I shook his hand. In the Vatican. Standing next to my mother. Wow. I mean, WOW. (Thanks, Mom.) The Holy Father then guaranteed me favors in Heaven. (My Catholic friends refer to this as my “Get Out of Hell Free” card.) (Did I mention WOW?) This same trip I touched Galileo’s tomb. I touched ‘The David’. I saw ‘The Pieta’ (wanted to touch it, but it was behind glass). I saw the Sistine Chapel. I touched Keats’ and Shelly’s headstones, and felt humbled by William Story in the Protestant Cemetery in Rome. I sat on the Spanish Steps with a pretty Italian boy’s head in my lap, and my heart full of poems. I saw the Colosseum by moonlight. I kissed said pretty Italian boy while wading in the Trevvi Fountain. (I met the Carabinieri soon after…) I was covered from head to toe in pigeons in St. Mark’s Square (Piazza San Marco). I took a gondola ride through the canals of Venice, walked across the Rialto, and sipped cappuccino on the Grand Canal. (Again, all this is thanks to, and mostly with, Mom.)
9. I sang ‘Chattanooga Choo Choo’ with nothing but a bodrhan (and, of course, my best friend, and lots of Guinness) for accompaniment to an after-hours club of really old people on Prince’s Street in Edinburgh. (We sucked, incidentally.) I hitched a ride from a Brit officer after touring Stonehenge. I tried to avoid watching a rugby match between the Aussies and Kiwis while sleeping in bunk beds in Earl’s Court, London.  I had a tank train its guns on me in Belfast (don’t tell my parents). I met a neo-Nazi on the street in Munich. He spit on me. (Other than that, Germany was a lovely country. We toured the country, and were well met. We loved Munich and Koln. We also went to the Alps, and swam in some of those lakes. Wow. Deep, full, and lovely.) (And peopled with naked Germans….) (Coochie crawling is verboten!) I gave tours (again with best friend, and again with lots of Guinness) of the red-light district of Amsterdam. I jammed with a Big Band in Warsaw. I taught the Czech singer at the pub in Hungary how to sing John Denver songs. I slept at a Marriott in a Soviet city. I met Havel in Prague before the break. He hit on my best friend. He stood the bar a round. This all took more than three months. My life changed.
10. I took a group of children in my raft as I navigated the New and the Gauly rivers, in West Virginia. I taught them how to pitch tents, build fires, and keep their sh*t together. I took other groups down the north branch of the Potomac. I climbed big rocks. I mountain-biked. I was a badass there for a while.

There’s more, and much of it is more important and more special, as at this point I’ve only hit about 26 years old. But I’m beginning to bore myself… I’ll do the “Ten Things, part deaux” at some point. It’s not as interesting, I fear. “I watched my children tear up my house” just doesn’t make good copy.

What’re your “Ten Things”?

I’ve had nearly 400 hits today from folks searching for the World Islands in Dubai. Is there some new news I’m not up on? ‘Cuz this isn’t normal – I generally only get about 40 hits per day. Something’s up. I think I’m going to netsurf…

It’s a big joke in my family – Cam can’t cook. It began when I was a young teenager and melted my mom’s kitchen. Literally. Melted the oven and range, melted the ceiling panels, and set the curtains on fire. (Ever hear the bit about oil and water? True story.)  Mom never got over it. Had to buy a new stove and hated it. Every time she used it she muttered under her breath at me.

The “Cam can’t cook” theme has not ended, twenty-odd years later. Eldest Son loves to tell the story of how I burned the Spanish rice I was making for the Cinco de Mayo party when he was in third grade. Middle Son loves to explain about the day I burned water. (No, really. I set the water on the stove to boil hard-boiled eggs, forgot about it, and burned off all the water and scalded the pan.) I have a penchant for burning the breakfast. Especially when it’s corned beef hash (Eldest Son’s favorite breakfast food).

At least once a week the boys look at what I’ve fixed for dinner, drop their heads in unison and mumble, “I’m not really hungry.” I have become a little bit defensive about this. I try. I make the effort.

I fail a lot.

I’ve decided to stop reading novels while I’m cooking. Something tells me this will help.

But things are changing! I have found two things that have given me a new lease on my culinary life:

One is a website (www.allrecipes.com) that gives me more recipes than I could possibly ever read (lots with pictures!), complete with instructions and shopping lists. The more I take advantage of this terrific service, the happier my children are becoming.

The other is the slow cooker.

A few weeks ago I made Louisiana red beans and rice in the Crock Pot. The boys LOVED it, and we now have a new family staple.

I have made cheesy chicken, baby back ribs, baked chicken, awesome chili, and a pot roast that is becoming famous. I use this miracle at least once a week, usually twice. At the end of the day the house smells heavenly, and I have yet to burn anything in the slow cooker. (I’m sure it can be done, and I’m probably the one to do it, but I haven’t done it yet.)

Another upside to the slow cooker is that generally the recipes feed many more than the four or five of us who are here to eat them. Louisiana red beans and rice, for example,  generally yields enough for ten or fifteen people. Frozen leftovers! Lunches for a week! Yippee!

Crock Pot, you gorgeous thing, where have you been all my life?