Randomness

Thought I would share some of the random things I post on my Facebook page here on the blog. First off, I saw this really cool storefront in University Heights (San Diego, CA area) the other day and snapped a pic as I was sitting at the light.

I'm sure I've mentioned it, but for our new friends: Dragonfly has been my totem and unofficial second name since I first signed up for an AOL account with a free CD and a 28.8K modem in 1998. I am even called "Dragonfly" by some (which means many people give me dragonfly things as gifts so I have them on everything from coasters to jewelry to wind chimes). This kind of connection with a skeeter-eating bug makes you notice anything with the word plastered above the door. I finally remembered to search Google to find out what they sell, and it turns out they're just a hair salon. Pffftt! Disappointed! Hair salons are a dime a dozen and I don't think I've had my hair cut professionally for over a year so I really don't have much use for them. I like the colors and clip art logo, but I was hoping they sold something awesome like vintage items or metaphysical doodads. Oh well.

I tried to "check in" on Facebook from my iPhone the other day at home and had a nice little surprise - apparently Facebook has found my mostly-non-existant Reiki practice (Share The Way) and added it to their lists as a local business! I can't even imagine what database they would've retrieved that info from as the domain name is the only thing I've ever registered and I don't advertise at all. Yet there it was...

Now I just have to find out how I got there so I can be sure Scarlet Quill is also listed. Scarlet Quill is the website I'm building so I can sell my proofreading and editing services (scarletquill.com). And since I dog/house sit as well, don't think I'm not totally going to contact whomever owns Earth's Paw Mobile Pet Grooming and find out if they'll exchange referrals with me. I think I'm getting the hang of this networking thing. What a way to find local services. LOL

Last, I found out what the face of EVIL looks like. It's THIS:

I really do eat healthy most of the time, but I'm no saint when it comes to sweets. These things pry open your mouth, force themselves down your throat, laugh at the digestive acids in your stomach, then tear through your guts. And I LOVE THEM.

I Am Grateful to Live in Abundance

This morning I got up early (no small feat for this night owl!) and headed to Escondido with the bf to pick oranges with San Diego Food Not Lawns. I want to give a big Gratitude Shout Out to Esta Browning, an awesome friend I met through my volunteer work with Help the Homeless, who posted the picking event on her Facebook, which is why I got to be involved today.

SD Food Not Lawns is an organization started about a year ago which tries to match up otherwise-unharvested fruit from the thousands of trees on private property in Southern California with food banks, soup kitchens, homeless shelters, or any other worthy cause that can use them. Many properties down here have more trees than the owners can possibly eat the fruit from. Almost everyone knows *someone* that shares fruit from their fruit trees. Not letting the rest of it go to waste is a truly noble cause. I've often said myself that if we can FedEx a package anywhere overnight, why can't we send food that normally goes to waste here in the US to the countries with starving populations?

Mother Earth provides us with everything we need. And because we have evolved to such a point (much to the detriment of our planet to boot!) that we can move products around the globe in 24 hours, we are now responsible (and have NO excuse) not to be able to spread the abundance from one area to another.

With that thought in mind, it's TOTALLY cool how every time I put something out there to the Universe, it answers me almost immediately. My friend S, whom I dog sit for every now and again, has about 100 grapefruit and orange trees on her property. They only have them because they came with the house. As far as I know, they don't do anything to support the trees other than give them water so they don't die. They pick the fruit for as many friends and family and neighbors as they can, but a TON of it goes to waste. 100 trees produce A LOT of fruit!

The last time I was up there letting the dogs out, I was discussing with a different friend what a waste it is for all that fruit to just drop and rot. We brought a bunch home as I know we're allowed to, but we can't possibly eat our way through the orchard. Having just been on my weekend trip downtown for Help the Homeless, it occurred to me that taking a bunch of that fruit with me next time might be awesome. That thought naturally led to thinking about how appreciated that fruit might be at soup kitchens and shelters across the county.

Lo and behold, Esta posted the link mentioned above like a day or two later! They match up otherwise-unharvested trees with those that can benefit from the food. How COOL is that?!! Gotta love synchronicity.

Note: I probably intended to write something more for this post, but never finished it. It was in draft format when I found it but since it sort of appears to be a complete thought anyway, I'm just posting it so it stops telling me I have all these drafts! Can't have a drafty blog!

Chinchillas and Children

People unfamiliar with exotic pets such as iguanas or chinchillas tend to either be afraid of them, or they wonder why I would want to keep such a thing because they assume these creatures have no individual personality. They would be wrong.

I went downstairs tonight and got some raspberries from the frig and was eating (read: inhaling) them in the kitchen. My chinchillas all reside in the breakfast nook because it is the easiest place to cool down in summer since it's like a small room (they are in danger of heat stroke over 75°F) and the easiest place to contain their mess and clean it up (they scatter hay and cage substrate on the floor daily).

Odin (our 10 year old light grey chinnie) saw me and was immediately sticking his pink nose through the bars begging for a treat: "ME TOO! ME TOO! ME TOO!"

 

I don't like giving him raspberries tho cuz of the tiny seeds (plus they are huge compared to his size if you think about it - that's like giving us a berry the size of a watermelon to eat all at once), so I gave him a small fresh blueberry instead. He loves those. Odin likes all kinds of fresh stuff - organic salad greens and grapes are other things I give him once in a great while (just in case new chinchilla owners seeking info are led to this blog, please note that giving fresh items such as this can cause diarrhea so if your chinnie does like these things, please don't give them anything large, and don't allow these types of treats too often. Once a month at the most for fresh items. Dried fruits are better; small bits of pineapple, papaya, apple, and raisins are your best bet. Chinchillas are junkies - they will quickly become addicted to treats, so you really have to monitor it and only give them one treat per day. That said...)

My other two chinchillas, Edwyn (charcoal grey, 9 years old) and Arty (the 4 year old beige that came to me just after New Year's - I'll have to put that in a different blog cuz that's quite a story), saw me give Odin a blueberry and they're like "US TOO! US TOO!" Suddenly I have pink noses poking through cage bars everywhere.

I gave a blueberry to Edwyn, who grabbed it and ate half, then probably dropped the other half somewhere in the cage to be revisited later tonight. (He's like that - they're nocturnal by the way.)

Then I offered one to Arty who sniffs it and says: "Uh no, I don't like that."

Me: Oh c'mon, you'll like it. The other two like them.

Another sniff.

Arty: No no, I'm sure I don't like these.

Me: How do you know? You've never had one. Here.

Arty: No, I don't like them. I'm sure.

Me: Seriously, try it. (Side note: Yes, I speak out loud to my animals.)

Arty: No.

Me: TRY IT.

Arty: NO.

Me: "Look stunad... they're the same as the dried blueberries you immediately pick out of your dish every time I give them to you. TAKE THIS. It's the SAME THING."

Arty: Gimme a treat.

Me: I AM giving you a treat! Take it!

Arty: I don't want that treat. Gimme a different treat. (Turns "the cute look" on me.)

Me: No, don't do that. Eat this!

Arty: NO, GIMME A DIFFERENT TREAT. (Turns up the cuteness by a factor of 10.)

Me: FINE.

I go get the dried blueberries in the treat container and give him one, which he immediately gobbles down. Mind you, this is the same thing I was offering him before, it's just that these have had all the water sucked out of them.

Arty: That was good. Can I have another one? I'm sure you didn't give me one yet. How come the other two got treats and I didn't?

(And the other two are in the background going, "Yeah, we didn't get treats either. We're sure. Give us one!" They are excellent little liars.)

This totally reminded me of my daughter when she was five. Or maybe when she was FIFTEEN.

Her: I don't like Indian food.

Me: Try it.

Her: No! I don't like it.

Me: How do you know? You've never had it. (A CLASSIC parent argument.)

Her: I just know! (A CLASSIC child response.)

Me: C'mon, try it.

Her: NO! It smells funny!

Me: Try it!

Her: NO!

Me: Ok here, have this instead. Take this bread (naan) and dip it in this sauce (tikka masala).

Her: YUM! That's really good. Can I have more? What is it?

Me: INDIAN FOOD.

Her: (No response.)

A similar story a few years later during the one month she lived here with me in California before running back to the boyfriend in New Jersey: Oceanside has a street fair in the evening every Thursday. There are a ton of food booths, but this one place sells Greek gyros and OH MY GOD are they good. Best gyros I've ever tasted. The first time we had them it was just luck in picking that out of all the booths; now I go back on Thursdays just for that.

Katy and I had been walking around and she kept insisting she wasn't hungry but she hadn't eaten all day (drama over being apart from the boyfriend... they cried on the phone together EVERY NIGHT for a MONTH - him included!). I finally got tired of trying to convince her to eat and bought a gyro for myself. As soon as I tasted it I knew she'd like it, but getting her to find that out was always a challenge.

Me: You need to eat some dinner. This is really good. Try it.

Her: No. I'm not hungry.

Me: You're missing out. You'll love it. Just take one bite!

Her: NO! What is it?

Me: Lamb. (mistake - never tell them it's anything but beef or chicken)

Her: EWWWW!!! GROSS!!! NO!

Me: TRY IT! It tastes like beef. You won't know the difference.

Her: NO!

Me: TRY IT!

Her: FINE.

One bite, no comment.

A few minutes later...

Me: Do you want more? You need to stop sulking and eat something.

Her: I'm NOT sulking! FINE. Just one more bite. (Rolling her eyes.)

Me: You sure you don't want one of your own? I'll buy you one.

Her: No, MOM! I'm not hungry. (So much eye rolling her head could've been a bowling lane.)

Then I ask her to hold it for me (yeah, I'm smart) and it starts disappearing like magic. When she gets down to the last few bites she asks if I want anymore of it. I say no thanks, you finish it. No other comments are made. (I ate something later at home.)

These things are necessary silent victories lest you lose the next battle because your opponent has figured out your strategy. (She was 19. NINETEEN! Don't ever let anyone tell you the terrible twos stop in a few years! The only cure for that is moving out of the house!)

The next week she asks: Hey, can we get gyros again?

Chinchillas are much more stubborn.

Letter of Complaint

Dear Universal Customer Service:

I would like to exchange my Immune System for a new one. After 41 years, this one appears to be quite sluggish and is not annihilating bacteria and viruses as fast as it used to. Maybe it needs updating or was there a service pack released that I missed? I can provide the receipt upon request.

Thanks,

Traci

~~**~~

Dear Traci,

Please refer to the Human Body Owner's Manual, Chapter 432, Section 23678, Subsection 41 which states that consumption of a Starbucks chocolate brownie and Haagen Dasz Coffee ice cream in the midst of a chest cold will temporarily render said Immune System worthless and voids the warranty. This applies even if preceded by chicken soup.

We have more eyes than Santa Claus. Please stop wasting our time.

Sincerely,

Universal Customer Service

Happy Is A Flavor

The coffee is not the only reason I have allowed myself to be completely brainwashed by Starbucks.

Tales From The Kitchen & Anza Observatory

Funny how one thing always leads to another and suddenly you're planning an adventure and wondering how you ended up here at 4am (or how you're even still awake).

Tonight I tried to bake for the holidays. I had a plan; I was going to light a nice fire in the fireplace, don my festive, red "Naughty or Nice?" apron (I think I've worn it twice in the decade I've owned it), play Christmas music while drinking hot chocolate & Kahlua, and bake at least three kinds of cookies if it killed me. Sounds like a real Norman Rockwell evening, doesn't it? Well that's what I was going for. Those Hollywood moments don't create themselves ya know.

Apparently the cookies (or the Universe) saw it as a challenge. How many monkey wrenches does it take to screw up a Rockwell-inspired evening?

7:00pm. I light the fire, press Play for the Rat Pack, don said apron, make hot chocolate, and proceed to pull ingredients from cupboards. Hey wait... where did all my butter go? I swear there were three sticks in here!

Wrench 1 from Universe: No butter.
Counterfire: Close glass doors on fireplace, press Pause on Rat Pack, remove apron, don coat, head to store for butter.

Forty minutes later I have TWO POUNDS of butter (heh, let's see the Universe get past that one!) and a can of whipped cream for the hot chocolate (extra points!). I hang up the coat, poke the fire back to life, press Play on the Rat Pack, re-engage the apron, re-heat my hot chocolate (add whipped cream! woo!) and proceed to dump ingredients into a bowl.

Oh crap... that's ALL the brown sugar I have left? At least it's enough for this batch but... ::rummaging through pantry:: Darnit, I guess that WAS the backup. Hmmm.

Wrench 2 from Universe: No brown sugar.
Counterfire: I'll just make the things that don't require it tonight.

I continue making chocolate chip cookies. The fire is really going now (I can hear it in the other room even if I can't see it), the oven is hot, the chinchillas are all staring at me from the breakfast nook like I've been abducted by aliens and replaced by a domesticated replica, which is fine with them as long as the replica intends to give them treats. I taste the cookie dough because God knows a quarter of it will never make it into the oven the way I do it, and...

WTF? It tastes weird. Not horrible, but weird. Maybe it's just my imagination? Nope, definitely tastes odd. I go over the ingredients and decide it's either the gluten-free flour I bought at the organic grocery store or the eggs which I now see are expired because they're organic eggs and since I don't eat eggs unless they're in something they rarely get used fast enough. Arg. Okay, well, I'll take my chances that it's the flour, not salmonella, and maybe the icky taste will cook out.

Wrench 3 from Universe: Bad batter.
Counterfire: I'm baking it anyway so sod off.

While the first batch is in the oven, I decide to start mixing the Sand Tarts (read: sugar cookies with almond extract) that my grandmother makes. The dough has to sit in the frig overnight, and does not require brown sugar, so this is probably a good thing to embark on next. I start blending the butter and sugar in another bowl.

15 minutes later: the bell rings but the icky taste has not cooked out. Grrr.

Maybe I can donate these somewhere - like the post office. Make a nice gesture AND get rid of icky cookies AND don't waste all those ingredients. Sounds like a win-win. Except the cookies practically fall to pieces as I remove them from the cookie sheets.

Oh yes, gluten doesn't just taste good, it also holds things together so when you use gluten-free flour, guess what? (I have no idea how I knew that, but I did. Probably that Home Ec class back in 9th grade.) I glare at the expensive gluten-free flour that will probably be in the trash if I can't find another use for it aside from baking. (Okay, not really, I'd more likely give it away on Craigslist first.)

As a last resort, I ask the roommate to try a cookie (which crumbles like the Republican Party as he tries to pick it up). I figure if a guy will eat them, then a post office should have no problem disposing of my mistake (one way or another). He says they aren't bad, but they don't taste like my normal cookies, which means others will notice the weird taste too. CRAP.

Open trash can - insert cookies.

It is now 8:30pm. Score: Universe 1, Traci 0.

I decide I'm going to Vons (a "real" grocery store as opposed to the smaller local one I went to for the butter) and I will try again this whole cookie fiasco when I get back. I'm a late-night person - I can bake until 2am!

I actually consult all the recipes I've pulled out and make a list this time. Yay for thinking ahead! I remove the apron, turn off the music, close the fireplace doors, don the coat, and go to Vons. I spend SIXTY DOLLARS on ingredients. Okay, maybe Peppermint Schnapps and Baileys don't count as ingredients, but one of them is certainly going into SOMETHING I'm making when I get home.

10:00pm. I return with (among other things) brown sugar, new eggs, and attitude. I stoke the fire and put the apron back on but skip the music. I finish mixing the Sand Tarts and get the dough into the frig. I wipe down the counters - three times because Gods, where does all that dirt come from? It's like the counters just make it fresh themselves. I clean the bowl and measuring cups I used so they're ready again. I clean the cookie sheets. Then I clean the sink because it's porcelain and anything aluminum (like the bowl and sheets) makes horrid marks all over it wherever it touches.

11:30pm. I decide to just check email and say hi on IM to the boyfriend before continuing, and you know what happens next...

That's it. I surrender. After 4 hours I have NOTHING to show for my baking efforts. Not ONE cookie. I'm too tired to face the kitchen again so I will live to bake another day (like tomorrow). I decide to just surf the net a bit and go to bed.

Except then I see my mother's CDs sitting by the desk. I had promised I would load them all onto iTunes and send her the files so she doesn't have to deal with it. The CDs have been there at least two months now. I decide since I'm sending her a box of stuff for her birthday, and I've just reformatted the Mac and not yet restored my own iTunes, this is the best time to do it. So I load a CD and grab my book (which I had intended to read by the fire while the cookies were in the oven... HA!!).

I'm currently reading Malcolm Gladwell's What The Dog Saw. It's a great book and I really enjoy Gladwell's writing style. He's talking about late bloomers vs. precocity... comparing prodigies to people that become successful later in life. One of the stories relates the difference of how two authors became famous. One took 18 years and 30 trips to Haiti before he had a bestseller. The other was in his 20s (I think) and took one trip to Ukraine (3 days) to inspire the book that made him rich. I realize I am more like the Haiti guy (the late bloomer), where I need to gather lots of experiences before I can write about them.

In thinking about this, I realize one of the good things about being unemployed is I have LOTS of time to go experience things. (And isn't that how Jen Lancaster wrote her first book as well?) The bad part is I haven't been taking near enough advantage of my freedom. I've been on quite a few trips in the past several months, which has been awesome, but they haven't really been explorations I would want to write about. They've provided very little new experience. So I get to thinking about taking a trip just for experience, but it cant be too far away as the money is running low.

The BF has mentioned before a place about 2 hours from here called Idyllwild. Unfortunately it's a place he went to with a former girlfriend (ew), but if I can get over that it sounds like a cool artist community up in the trees. Perfect for new experiences, yes?

So I pull up the map to Idyllwild and print it out, then go about finding out what's there that I shouldn't miss. I'm already thinking I'm going TOMORROW (I mean, why wait?) except I have cookies to bake. Damn the bad luck. And Thursday is Christmas Eve, Friday is Christmas. And I AM looking forward to them this year even though I feel like a total hypocrite celebrating a Christian holiday when I am so NOT that (except it's really a Pagan holiday that was warped by the Christians, so that makes me feel a LITTLE better). Hmmm. Guess this will have to be Saturday or Sunday.

Nevertheless, one click leads to another and I end up at a web site for Anza Observatory. I'm thinking AWESOME - you gotta love anywhere that wants to watch the stars watching us. Except the more I poke around this site, the more I find out that it's just a guy in a house out in the middle of nowhere AND now he's moved because society has encroached on his little hideaway and polluted the sky with light. ::SIGH::

The good thing is, he has built a page with the pictures of comparisons of star sizes that I've wanted to put together for a couple years. It's not quite as polished as I'd make it, but it works. Awesome! Now I can share it! And here it is:

http://www.anzaobservatory.com/ourplace.html

You may have received this (in part or whole) in email before, but it's always amazing to me to see how small we are in this big ol' Universe. And how TOTALLY insignificant that makes cookies in the scope of things. And I have to wonder how in the world the Universe has time to screw with me over kitchen antics when there's ALL THAT OUT THERE.

Incidentally, and totally off the subject, I also discovered this organization from one of my mom's CDs called Metamusic - Gaia:

http://www.monroeinstitute.org/

From their "About Us" page: "The Monroe Institute provides experiential education programs facilitating the personal exploration of human consciousness ... The Monroe Institute also serves as the core of a research affiliation investigating the evolution of human consciousness and making related information available to the public. The Institute is devoted to the premise that focused consciousness contains definitive solutions to the major issues of human experience and a greater understanding of such consciousness can be achieved through coordinated research efforts using an interdisciplinary approach."

I find this stuff fascinating and lately I've been pointed to a lot of info on brainwave research and such. Wonder where THAT'S going.

So I guess that's finally all I have to say for tonight. Now it's 6am and I have yet to sleep - AGAIN. You gotta write when it strikes I guess.

Have an awesome Wednesday. :)

A Fruity Story

Yesterday - we're talking 24 HOURS AGO - I bought a quart of strawberries and a bag of grapes at Henry's. Both are organically grown because I'm like that. Both looked equally fresh because they probably were. I used the strawberries to garnish a raw foods dessert I made to take to a massage party last night. (Chocomole, totally awesome cuz it's from a totally awesome person, and it never fails to wow every guest at the gathering. Take copies of the recipe with you. Trust me on this.) I left both the extra strawberries and the bag of grapes on my counter overnight because I'm not partial to cold fruit and I don't have problems with pests that raid my kitchen (aside from my roommate).

This morning I go to cut up the remainder of the strawberries and they are COMPLETELY grey and fuzzy. I don't mean just a little part that you can cut out, I had to THROW THEM OUT. And I despise wasting food. WTF? The grapes sitting on the counter right next to them were fine. Not even a trace of science experiment. I wonder if I had stuck a camera in front of the berries overnight if I could've watched them grow a beard like a time-lapse movie without the acceleration.

This is not the first time I've seen this here in San Diego. The trouble is, it doesn't happen every time and you never know when it will strike. Some fruit I've left out on my counter for days with no trouble. Others commit suicide overnight. I can't figure it out. I mean sure, you never know when the things you buy actually arrived at the store so perhaps they were already old, but they felt firm and didn't seem to show any signs of severe decay. It is the weirdest thing.

At least I still have grapes. (Thank you Fruity Gods.) I will pair them with peaches in the blender and add some Agave nectar and see how that dance goes. Grapes and strawberries straight up are a much tastier smoothie though. I swear I'm going to do this raw food thing eventually. I got a recipe for a fruit dip type thing from a great guy I met at the last massage party. It goes like this (in his unedited words) for anyone that wants to try it:

The recipe is simple, all is real and raw, not from a can, I get the young coconuts a the asian stores call 99 Ranch Market, a case of 9 young coconuts is about $7.00, so here we go, to make a small amount you can do it with milk and meat from one coconut, hand full of raw cashews ( keep adding till gets thick ), small dash of sea salt, blend, try it, then add 1/4tsp or a bit more of raw agave nectar ( keep adding till gets sweet enough for you, and don't forget to add some love too, and thats it.

You drizzle that over fruit - he had cut up apples at the party - and it was delish. Oh, and when he says blend it, he means with one of the Super Blenders like a VitaMix or a BlendTec. I haven't purchased one yet, but I see it in my very near future. (If you're looking to get one, check eBay. There's been some good deals on nearly-new BlendTecs there recently.)

I guess eating raw requires more than sweet desserts tho. That's the part I'm not as excited to try - veges and such. Sounds like a WHOLE lotta salads and green shakes. Salad is all fine and good, but I'm not an iguana (despite Spunky's opinion).

Well anyway, that's my story for today.

Spunky, my fruity iguana.

She Sees You When You're Sneaking

Stomach: I need a snack.

Brain: Eat something healthy. There's apples - have one of those.

Stomach: Ok. But only if we put the butterscotch caramel on them that we were thinking about the other day when we bought the apples.

Brain: No. That's not healthy.

Stomach: Well YOU were the one thinking about it.

Brain: Yes, but it's not healthy.

Stomach: Screw that. Hey Arm - get the caramel out of the frig.

::Arm goes digging for caramel in frig::

Brain: There's organic peanut butter in here. That's much healthier. Put that on the apples instead.

Stomach: NO WAY!

Brain: Jason Mraz would eat peanut butter instead of caramel.

Stomach: Pffffttt. You're just trying to trick me! He can't be a nutritional saint 100% of the time.

Brain: How do you ever expect to lose those extra five pounds if you eat caramel instead of peanut butter?

Stomach: It's OCTOBER. Apples and caramel go together in October.

Brain: That's a crappy excuse.

Stomach: Will be when *I'm* done with it.

Brian: hardee har har. Eat the peanut butter.

Stomach: No.

Brain: Karma is a bitch. You've met her before.

Stomach: I promise to stop eating sugar tomorrow.

"...and that's how I got here. How did YOU end up in this handbasket?" I asked.