Archive for March, 2011


Difficult to blog on an iPod.

That is all.

Why I hate Disney

I hate those damn Disney commercials where the family surprises the kids with a trip to Disney something.

Every time I see them I immediately feel like the worst parent ever because I never had a moment like that with my kids. I am totally envious of those reactions. I still want to do it. I want to get a billion dollars and plan a fantastic trip to some wonderful place that includes my entire family and anybody they want to bring. Not Disney. Maybe a Caribbean Island.

If I won millions of dollars I would plan a beautiful dinner for my family at some wonderful place. I wouldn’t tell them why.  I would reserve a private room and have everything exquisite.  Wait!  Strike that!

I would invite them all for dinner at our current favorite Italian restaurant Sebastiano’s. I would not tell them that the others were coming. I would have a beautiful big table ready and surprise them all with each others company. Yeah, that’s it.

I want everything for my family. I want them to never have to worry about horrible things. I don’t mind a little struggle, it’s good for the soul. It shows you that you can overcome, but I wish I could make sure that they were never in a really dire situation. I don’t ever want people I love to know real fear and desperation.


I should just start calling this a food blog..

My husband found a recipe for a healthier version of peanut butter cookies.  Then he put his own twists on it and made it even healthier.  What came out of this healthy experiment was not pretty.  They are strange looking little piles of weird texture with almost no flavor.  He was going to throw them out but I said I would take them to work and eat them for breakfast this week.  I don’t really need a lot of flavor in my breakfast, because I don’t think my taste buds wake up until noonish.  So into a giant ziploc they went.

I was in the conference room on a call and one of my co-workers discovered the giant bag of cookies in the kitchen.  This was the instant messenger conversation that followed.


Brad:     there appears to be a bag of cookies and brownies in the kitchen

Brad:     I would like to inquire as to it’s intent

Tracy:    those are the bad cookies.

Tracy:    Feel free to try them, but they’re not good.

Tracy:    They are however healthy!

Brad:     they don’t look not good…

Brad:     healthy? they look like chocolate chip…

Tracy:    try it.

Tracy:    You’ll see.

Tracy:    I am eating them for breakfast this week.

Brad:     this feels like a trap, but they look delicious

Tracy:    They’re not inedible, they’re just not good.

Brad:     :C

Brad:     you have ruined cookies forever

Tracy:    It’s not like I didn’t warn you!


and then she said blah, blah, blah blah.

I really should get out of bed. I am very comfortable though. I think the time between 6:00 am and 8:00 am are the golden hours of sleep. I am rarely asleep during that time but always want to be.

I have blogged entirely too much this week.

Watching Biography about Christian Slater.

I was just reading another blog and she is talking about last names and an obituary and I decided I should right my own obituary. I wonder if it is too creepy.

Todays agenda;

  1. 30 minutes on bike
  2. Shower
  3. Laundry
  4. Soup for lunch!
  5. Freeze extra soup to see how it does before deciding whether to make a bigger batch
  6. Krogers for a few odds and ends (don’t forget coffee for the trip)
  7. Clean enough of my house to make room to sew
  8. File my toenail
  9. Dinner!
  10. Need to do a little work somewhere in there and also have a lot of reading to do.

Yesterday I went shorts shopping. I bought two pairs of cropped pants instead because I couldn’t find shorts that I like. My husband is almost obsessed with me wearing khaki cropped pants. It must be some weird fantasy in his head. Luckily, I like them as well. I think next time we are in a clothing store I will ask him to help me pick out a shirt to go with them and see what he gravitates towards. He obviously has some image in his head.  I am right on a size for right now. It’s so nice to grab a bunch of stuff all in the same size and have everything fit. 

Off to work on items 1 and 3.


Soup Makin’ Saturday

Making this soup.  I found the recipe on Xanga the other day and decided to try it.  It doesn’t sound good at all, but it has all of my favorite flavors so I decided to try it anyway.

I added the calorie count.  I am a little obsessive about that.


 1 cup small dice celery – 17 Calories
 2 cups small dice yellow or white onion – 100 Calories (only used 1)
 olive oil – 120 Calories
 1 x 28 ounce can of crushed tomatoes – 93 Calories
 1 or 2 bay leaves
 2 teaspoons oregano
 pinch of cinnamon
 cayenne pepper, ground black pepper and salt to taste
 1 x 12 ounce can of light or regular coconut milk – 240 Calories

Serves 6
Finely chop onion and celery. Add a tablespoon or two of olive oil to a large stock pot and saute celery and onion until tender, about 7 to 10 minutes. Stir in oregano, cinnamon and whole bay leaf.  Add can tomatoes. Turn up the heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Stir in can of coconut milk. Remove bay leaf. Blend with a hand held wand blender in the same pot or carefully transfer to a jar blender and blend until smooth. As hot liquids expand in a jar blender, fill the jar blender half way only. Blend in batches if necessary. Return to original pot if using a jar blender, otherwise keep warm on low heat until ready to serve. Season with cayenne pepper, salt and ground pepper to taste.

A little side trip today

She patiently waits.  Dinner is almost done.  She knows the drill. She knows where the line is. Dinner done, kitchen clean he sits down to watch the news. It’s almost time. They’ll watch a game show together. It’s the tradition. They’ll both shout out the answers, they’ll be correct alot of the time. Her probably a little more than him. Maybe a funny sitcom, something witty and clever. Nothing low brow, thank you very much. 

Finally it happens, he stands up and with a stretch announces that he’s got to be up early, guesses he’ll go read a book for awhile. She’ll stay down here and read, maybe play on the computer. It’s their ritual dance.They both know what comes next. She waits a few minutes after he goes upstairs. There is no hurry, it’s not like she has to. It doesn’t hurt anyone.  She grabs the bottle. A nice civilized glass of wine while she reads her book. A picture straight from a novel.  Curled up in the chair with her book on her lap, and a warm glow from the table lamp shining on her glass. She has the perfect life.  As she reads that tendril of desperation starts to creep up the back of her spine. The words in the book can’t hold her attention. The loneliness makes her fingertips cold.

biting my tongue

I am going to try and word this ever so carefully.  Please know that I don’t mean to offend or in any way demean your beliefs, even if you’re wrong.


So the other day I was hopping around on Xanga and I saw a blog about Yoga.   Not one of my normal subs, but you know I love my yoga so I clicked to see what she had to say.  The blogger was talking about how happy she was that she had finally tried Yoga.  So far, so good.  Then she said she waited so many years because of her religious teachings. She had to wait until she was disgrunted with her religion and no longer following it’s tenents. In her church she has always been taught that Yoga was a gateway for allowing demonic spirits into you. If this wasn’t startling enough, I read her comments and people were agreeing with this teaching. They were happy that she had survived her first month of yoga without demonic possession.

 Today I Googled.

 I really and truly do not understand how a person believes something like this. I think I am very open minded, and I think I am also very empathic, but I cannot fathom this.

Watch out for hairy palms!


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