Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Letting Someone Else Do My Dirty Work

Here is a link on how to make vanilla extract.



Monday, December 28, 2009

I do declare! Savannah is the BOMB!

So yesterday, the Augusta Tarwaters and a family-Army friend drove the 3ish hours down to Savannah, GA. I had visited Savannah once in my youth, when I was still in High School. My father was stationed there and I remember thinking it was cool. There was a beach and the downtown area was walkable. I seem to recall there being a Jazz Festival at the time and the architecture blew me away.

We drove down, leaving the house at around 0830 and making a beeline for a coffeeshop called The Sentient Bean. Lattes were ordered and snarkiness was encountered. For the FIRST TIME since moving to the South, we were presented with hipsters in all their too-cool-for-you glory.

We were home.

Augusta is nice, don't get me wrong and we found a decent coffeeshop with a hipster at the healm (sp?). But he is kind and says 'y'all.' At The Sentient Bean (located next door to some kind of small business-natural grocery store, hello!) there were skinny jean wearing people who needed sandwiches, bitching that the coffee was stale. There were (at least) two kinds of sugar at the bar. Tea was offered and they had pu-er. The guy who took our order seemed like he did not want to take it. It was like being back at Stumptown. The patrons ran the gamut from crazy old dude with puppet, gay couple out with dogs, family out for a weekend lunch, old punks huddled around pints of was nice. We went back twice for caffeination.

Parking across the street from The Sentient Bean was perfect. Across the street is the freaking awesomely awesome Forsyth Park. I have never had amorous feelings like this for trees. Holy smokes. Oaks and Spanish Moss(?) = win. The sidewalks were clean and borderd by these majestically aged trees, the occasional palm tree thrusting into the sky from time to time. The weather by the way? My husband and daughter didn't wear jackets for a good percentage of the day. The sun was out and there were camellias in bloom at one of the many squares set up in the city to commemorate some long deceased general. We ate lunch out in a chunk of park, over a blanket of oak leaves.

The architecture was astounding. Southern charm, verandas, churches and temples as old as the city itself. We got to stare at these awesome edifices while geocaching (0/2) and saw trolleys and horse drawn carriages get pulled through the streets that also had trucks, hybrids, sedans and the occasional Hummer (boo). We walked from Forsyth Park down towards the Old Fort Jackson and the Roundhouse Museum which had old steam engines as well as an old train yard (complete with historic 'Colored's Bathroom). Now, I don't usually go insane for trains but that place was COOL. They had old engines, cars, and the building was pretty much free to roam. I can't really explain the grounds but it was cool to walk around what used to be a functioning trainyard, all the nooks and outdoor areas, including what used to be a garden for the employees to unwind (with one, solitary koi in the pond). They had old printing presses and it was just freaking cool. We paid $4 each to get in and was well worth it. We plan on going back. Sopi loved it and got a harmonica out of the deal.

After the train yard we walked back towards the park to change the goober and then walked over to our destination for dinner, Vinne Van GoGo's Pizza. It was a nice walk that took us through a rather awesome downtown. A walkable downtown. With sidewalks, more awesome architecture and stores that we had actually heard of. People were out on the street and the restaurant was located just a few blocks away from the Riverwalk. We sat outside and ate some of the BEST pizza we've ever had (I know, blasphemy. Pepperoni and black olive, great crust). Sopi got to watch the punk rock Southerner's toss the dough into the air and got to tell one of them that the pizza was 'freaking awesome,' to which he replied 'Thanks, y'all!'

My blog post is really not doing it justice. Savannah is beautiful, historical and liveable. Their craigslist has prices for homes that made my mouth fall open and the feeling when you walk around is that of...well, that you are in a place of beauty. It is probably the least sketchy city I've been to in a really good long time.

Obligatory pics. More to come; also links for the places that we went to.

Visit if you can. It's worth the trip. And if you pass through Augusta, you'll have a place to stay.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Fettucine Alfredo for 2.5 people

Who doesn't love fettucine alfredo? Weirdos, that's who. I love it a hell of a lot more than red sauce because I have a soft spot in my heart (and a hard part in my arteries) for creamy things. However, storebought alfredo sauce is in my experience expensive, full of strange things and WAY too salty.

Interwebs to the rescue! I make fettucine for my family based on this recipe by Giada DeLaurentiis, who I always call Giada Boobylicious for one reason alone. I make a few changes though because my family is small and there is apparently a huge amount of lemon juice in this, as in, way too much.

Here goes!

You will need:

4 T of butter
1 C of heavy cream
the juice of one lemon
grated zest of one lemon
grated nutmeg (a pinch; please use fresh)
2/3 of a box of fettucini pasta (I like Barilla. It just has a better mouth feel to me)

Heavy Saucepan that will fit all this stuff
Pot to boil water
Something to grate the lemon zest and the cheese and the nutmeg (I use a really sharp veggie peeler for the lemon and mince the **** out of it with a good knife and use the small holes on my box grater for the nutmeg and cheese
a cutting board
a knife or two
a spoon and potentially a whisk if you're feeling fancy

Get water boiling in the huge pot, making sure you don't put in so much water it will boil over. Put a lid on it.
Pour heavy cream in pan; add butter and place over medium-low heat, until butter is melted, stirring or whisking occasionally.
Add the juice of one lemon. Stir to combine. Turn off or let hang out over low heat, but keep an eye on it if you keep the heat on.
When water is boiling in pot, add a handful of salt and add the pasta, stirring for the first 30 seconds to keep the pasta from sticking together. Cook according to directions/ till al dente. Slighty on the hard side is better. Drain.
Add cooked pasta, parmesan cheese, lemon zest and nutmeg to the heavy cream-butter-lemon pan. Use tongs to mix the pasta in the sauce, then cover and let hang out for a few minutes; turn the heat to low if you feel like you need it to be hotter.

If you feel like this needs protein in addition to all the fat and carbs, roasted chicken goes great with this. Grilled/scampied shrimp would probably make it killer, gastronomically and literally. Add chicken to the sauce while the pasta is cooking so that it gets a change to heat through. Shrimp, I would cook alongsidethe dish, seasoning them with lemon juice, garlic powder and olive oil since reheated shrimp are nasty. Add them at the very end.
Asparagus is a nice addition, as are sun dried tomatoes. Roasted garlic would be delicious and be healthier.
Feel free to make a salad to accompany this! It would round the meal out nicely. I am just generally too lazy to ever make a salad. I know.
Use different kinds of pasta to make it more colorful. Spinach pasta is my favorite.

This recipe is great. While it takes a bit of forethought in terms of ingredients (I usually don't have heavy cream in my house), it's as easy as making a box of macaroni, quick and delicious. The lemon gives a great flavor and cuts through the richness of the cream and gives it a real freshness. Because the ingredients list is so short, get the best ingredients you can. And next time you consider reaching for the jar of carageenan laden white glop that most markets carry, please, make this.

You'll be glad you did. And if you do any variations, tell me!

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

I Feel Smelly

So my newest obsession/hobby is: perfume. Not the kind that we used to always smell at Rite-Aid before church, the alchohol based florals, walking through the mists of their testers in order to avoid having to buy a bottle. No. Those are generally yucky.

A friend of mine (someone who has become more dear to me since leaving Hippietown...that's the way these things go) got me into 'smellies.' Perfumes and bath products, to be more specific, the offerings of online companies such as Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, Villainess, Violette Market...there are a few more, but I may post them at a later date. Mixtures of oils with names you might not want your mom to see, scrubs that make your mouth water and save you the step of having to reach for your all lays before me, just a few clicks away.

I've been keeping a photo journal (?) of my collection and I hope to update it as it grows, to show how these things happen. I've seen pictures of people's 'stashes,' and I almost feel like an idiot admiting to how few I have. But these collections all started somewhere, and I wanted to show how mine grows, though I sincerely hope my collection never reaches the numbers of some of the ones I've seen. I mean, I'd like to help Sopi get through college.

Why am I, a generally frumpy, somewhat grumpy housefrau drawn to this? Well, first and foremost, it means I get to collect tiny things. I've always had a slight obsession with collecting small containers and this basically satisfies it and justifies it since each tiny container has something inside that is worth something. My collection mostly consists of samples (referred to as 'imps,' 'decants,' 'petals'...depending on what site you're on) which are lovingly labeled 1ml amounts of various perfumes. I get to keep them in a grey ammo box at the moment and there is a slight feeling of opening a treasure box when I pop open the lid and gaze down at them, inhaling the aroma of flowers, resins, herbs and other olfactory substances. The bottles that I have are also small (a few inches, tops) and have labels that range from mundane to awesome. They are also glass and boy howdy, do I love a small, glass bottle.

Then there is the 'fake chemist' aspect. Sometimes the descriptions of the perfumes (BPAL and Possets in particular) drive me insane (what the **** does a 'star lit sky' smell like?!). But there are the moments when your brain and nose 'pop' and you say, 'aaaaah...cypress. Perfect.' Applying the oil methodically to one's wrist (that's how I'm doing it, as I'm still testing a lot of imps right now), sniffing the bottle, sniffing your wrist to see how it reacts with your skin/body chemistry, waiting a few minutes and seeing how it has transformed...this is fun and interesting. I wonder why some people can wear 'Strangler Fig' and they get fruit but I put it on and it's just freaking plastic. Or how something can smell like old ladies at first and then awesome, wolfy greatness the next? There is a bit of a thrill when you read through the notes of a new perfume and you wonder, 'oh man, will that be as awesome on me as I HOPE?!'

Then there is the community of people. I hear pokemon can get like this but at least for BPAL and a few others, there are great communties online of people who are swapping and selling, trying to spread the gospel of occasionally wanting to make sweet love to your wrist (Countess Willie, hello!). Everyone I've dealt with has been VERY nice and a lot of these businesses are small affairs with just a few people, hand mixing and designing smells for the pleasure of themselves and other people and *that* is a good thing. A lot of these retailers are personable, have families and gift their buyers as an act of goodwill. When was the last time you bought something from amazon and they included a free chapter of a book? Uh, never. And the people who trade (as hobbies, not to make money mind you) are also generaous with their giving as well., lovingly and carefully wrapping their offerings in bubble wrap, sending their babies off with only Delivery Confirmation to guide them to their new homes.

I will confess: this shit ain't free. I've dropped some dough on this. It costs money and some places have killer shipping fees. But for me, well...I bust my butt raising Sopi and wifing my husband and writing my stories and sometimes, I think we all deserve a little something-something, as they say. I deserve a little fun, a little community apart from my labels as mom and wife, to feel a bit more feminine and get excited over the mail showing up. I'm really excited for a sample pack I ordered from Violette Market with some decants I am giving my mom for the holiday season. It feels a bit like I am getting compensated for some of the energy I've given over the last few years.

For what that's worth. Ah well, time to sit back, enjoy a Youngs Double Chocolate Stout with the husband and indulge in our shows. I have a very good life. I am thankful for it. And I am thankful for pretty, smelly things that make me feel a bit more like a person.

Friday, August 21, 2009


So, if the black clad women at Victoria's Secret are to be trusted, I am a 36C. This is good to know. Improper support of breasts can lead to bad things and having a bra that is too tight (which most women have) is very bad for you.

When I first became involved with my then boyfriend, now husband, I didn't need to wear a bra. I tight enough shirt did the trick. They were able to defy gravity, they were firm, various tendons and ligaments doing a good job of keeping my boobs where they should be. I was lacking in the cleavage department, but had been told I had 'perfect' breasts by no less than 3 guys. Of course, being an idiot, I had thought they were 'too small' for a while but a good relationship and becoming more comfortable with my body made me realize that my boobs were perfect for me and what was required of them.

As the years of stability went on, I put on a bit of weight and became a bit more filled out. It's as if being in a happy relationship made me hit Puberty Part 2: You Get a Butt. A tight shirt was still pretty much all I needed, though it was considerably tigher. I hated wearing bras and wore them when I had to.

Then: pregnancy. Goodbye normal boobs. Hello utilitarian mammalian protuberances. Bigger, insane, manufacturing things that seemed to have minds of their own. I remember being horrified when my milk came in. I looked like I had implants. It was like something out of science fiction, altogether in line with what I had just undergone the previous nine months and experiencing at the time. Thankfully, over the two years my boobs have been required for nourishment, they have calmed down and gotten smaller. But they are not the handful they used to be. I'm bigger. They're bigger. And they need support.

I should say right off the bat, I hate buying clothes in general. I generally think garments aren't worth what they are being sold for. I also have issues with places that are overly girly. Needless to say, I have to give myself a mental pep talk before I walked into VS today.

The girls talked to me about various things and smiled and gave me their names. I even tried on a...thing. This weird, gel type strapless bra thingy (up to 15 uses! For 68 dollars?!). But in the end, I couldn't bring myself to buy anything, even though I needed it. One, because I actually don't like VS stuff all that much. And it seemed like a lot to spend on something that was basically underwear.

So I still don't have a strapless bra which I need to war for my husband's graduation. I still have my relatively inexpensive sports bras that actually feel good and are comfy and don't have underwires. But I still have boobs.

What the heck am I going to do with them?

Sunday, August 16, 2009


Life isn't fair. Duh. We all know this.

But when I read that other women are getting to talk to their husbands for an HOUR...well, this saying seems to be laughing in my face.

Life really isn't fair.

BUT...there are women don't have their husbands because they've died. There are women who haven't heard from their husband in months, who have husbands in combat, who have husbands that work in dangerous places, and I'm not just talking Army, folks. There are places in the world where waking up in the morning increases your chance of being killed. Portland, OR isn't one of them.

So...really...I shouldn't complain.

Doesn't mean I'm not still bummed....

Saturday, August 15, 2009

T-minus 30

So, my husband is almost all graduated from BCT. The time went both slowly and quickly. Obviously, I didn't pass the time by blogging. I mostly went on AWC, pined, played with baby and dealt with the horrible clusterf*ck that was my inlaws. At least I didn't have to deal with it first hand. I was more of a person who got caught by the edge of the storm, drenched but not battered. It made me realize a few things, mostly that I need to learn how to drive and that I can't trust some people or depend on others. Kind of a lame lesson to learn when your husband is 3,000 miles away, but oh well. It's done, I learned, I am moving away from them.

I'm the kind of person that doesn't value 'sorry.' To me, a sorry is just a word. Action. That is what I want. I want to see the person not do the thing they were sorry for, or at least try to refrain. Some people don't and so when they sorry, they might as well not say anything. I've put some things behind me but the main offender isn't doing anything to make anything easier for anyone else and so all their sorries are dust in the wind.

I know, could I be more vague?

Well, the T-minus 30 is a reference to: the 30-day notice. Yep, I put in my 30 day notice today. Army willing, my daughter and I will be out of this apartment and in Augusta by the 15th of September, the very latest. Most importantly, we'll be closer to my wonderful husband while he's in school. I've received quite a few letters from him, what he's been able to manage, but all the heartfelt words aren't a substitute for the man himself. That's right, my husband is a man, with everything that entails. Naturally, I miss him. I love him and I want to be with him. I want to make him food and go on walks and go grocery shopping with him. I want us to be together. I understand why he had to go to BCT, why they isolate them and condition them and work them. Logically, it makes sense.

Emotionally...well, it's stupid. But the heart is not the brain. That goodness, it would be ill equipped. I'm trying to live with my brain leading the way but occasionally my heart tries to work with the brain and when the brain isn't looking, the heart hijacks me and it's lame. But for the most part, my brain has been taking things in, muddling, ruminating and working things out to make things easier on my poor heart.

Don't worry, heart! You'll have your day in the sun soon enough!

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Blue Phase and I'm feeling blue.

So, my husband starts Blue Phase on Saturday. That means one more phase, a few more weeks. He goes on a few camping trips and then practice for graduation, outprocessing. I've been diligently working on moving stuff, talking to movers, finding out what paperwork I need, sending in checks and what not, getting rid of things we're not taking/don't need anymore.

It's been weeks since I've last seen Chris. The letters and the sunday phone calls were sustaining me. But i got three letters yesterday and ever since last night...I've been down. In addition to missing him fiercely, I've been down. This doesn't fall in with my desired personality I would like to project (sarcastic Vulcan). It's not a lack of caffeine, it's not hormones. Hell, I felt better on a pint and PMS. It is just straight up missing him.

It's's been a long time. It's four weeks till I see him but I haven't seen him for six and change. I know other people have gone longer, eventually I'll have to go a year or more without seeing him but 10 weeks cold turkey...what the fuck? That's pretty much all I can say.

This summer has been going quickly, thank goodness. Still, not fast enough.

Please, thank you for reaing but I don't want any comments or phone calls right now, unless it's about something really stupid and banal.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Recipe: Crappy fried Rice

I miss Chinese food from NY and while you can find really good Chinese food here in PdX, I never want to pay for it. This is a good way to use leftover rice and even if you **** if up, it is still tasty. You will need:

Leftover rice. We always use medium grain sticky rice which actually sucks for this. Use Jasmine of long grain and your results will probably be better than mine.
Oil (Some kind of veggie and a touch of sesame oil)
Ginger, grated
Garlic, minced
(Scallions perhaps? Slice and set the white part aside from the green)
Meat (if you want; slice it super thin and small; if you are using shrimp, be prepared to take them out of the pan and set them aside so they dont overcook and get nasty)
(Cornstarch: add this to meat you stirfry to keep it tender and thicken sauces. optional)
Soy sauce (duh)
Something sticky/sweet. I use this molassas based teriyaki sauce but have used pineapple juice or maple syrup (a bit) in a pinch
frozen "asian" veggies

Heat oil in a pan. Add ginger and garlic and stir till fragrant over mediumish heat. Add white parts of scallions and fry for a little bit of time.
Add meat and cook till done. Remove to other plate if you feed like dirtying another plate.
Add a bit more oil. Add rice, breaking it up with your hands best you can. Pour on soy sauce and mix around so that the sauce distributes evenly. Add the sticky stuff and stir as well.
Add frozen veggies, stir till incorporated and cover till veggies ae heated through. Eat.

Obviously if you wanted to, you could add fresh veggies right after the meat is cooked through, then do the rice...but buying veggies in small amounts for stiry fry is annoying. Though it is probably a good way to utilize veggie scraps.
Use a metal spoon to make it so you can scrape the bottom of the pan without killing stuff.

is it aunthentic? No. is it tasty? Yeah. Sticky chinese inspired rice. YUM.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Army Strong

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder" is a stupid saying.

Yesterday my husband swore into the United States Army. We stood there and watched him standd at attention, waiting for the CO to come in, watced him continue to stand there, unsmiling, as the CO addressed us, speaking highly about the four men that stood before him, saying that us being there was a testament to how much of an impact these men had. Chris had the most people there. Two of the guys had no one there. I wonder if they felt like crap.

At 3:45 this morning, I woke up. I stare at the clock and wonder why it isn't later, feeling strangely awake. Light is starting to seep through the blinds. A few minutes later the cats make some kind of horrific yowling sound and I yell at them, forgetting that its too damn early to be yelling but too scared at the moment to care. I get up to see what the hell was the problem, finding cat throw up in the sala and poop on the floor. Awesome. I clean it up and conclude that some kind of animal must have been out in the parking lot. Other cats outside the window are the only thing that evoke that kind of reaction from my usually docile cats. All of this happens before 4.

4:00 am is when Chris will get his wake up call. He'll be given a few minutes to wash up, get ready and then have to go down to eat. He has to be down in the caf to eat by a certain time or he'll get in trouble. After breakfast that will probably include coffee he won't like, he'll get on a shuttle and head to the airport with the other people heading to Jackson today. Plane leaves at 6AM. He probably set his clock early. He probably woke up at 3:45.

I lie in bed, and the cray thoughts run into my head, the ones where people break into your house in the middle of the night and kill you and I keep thinking maybe the cats will make that horrible sound again but I pass out eventually because I'm tired and I can. Sopi and I wake up, yellow sunlight gleaming. She nurses for a bit, trying to shake off the last bit of sleepiness before she sits up in bed. "Poppa?"

"Poppa's not here, baby."

"Go yes sir school." She pauses for a moment. "Take bus yes sir school?"

"Yeah." I don't tell her that he's taking a plane. I don't want her to be jealous. Jealous of waking up early and going to bootcamp. It would just seem stupid.

Probably in Chicago now, trying to grab lunch, maybe a mag and a free second. Joking with his "team leader." Looking for a bathroom. Reading. Sitting the way he does, thinking about good coffee, no beer for ten weeks, smiling, saying 'son of a fuck," thinking about us.

How much more fond can the heart grow?

Friday, April 24, 2009

Dewey Dei

Tristan Tarwater's Dewey Decimal Section:

280 Christian denominations & sects

Tristan Tarwater = 089901401831058 = 089+901+401+831+058 = 2280

200 Religion

The Bible and other religious texts, books about the general philosophy and theory of religion.

What it says about you:
You don't mind thinking about the unknown or other very big ideas. You will never feel like your work is finished. The 200-series is dominated by Christian topics, so you may feel like you're constantly surrounded by Christians.

Find your Dewey Decimal Section at

This is oddly true.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

How to Cook for Hungry Nerds. Or Your Fam: Pork Roast

I figured today was as good a day as any to post a quick, non-sensical recipe.

Food is very important. It is the fuel that feeds our bodies, it is the thing we (usually) sit down to enjoy. It is a simple pleasure, a reason to get together.

I love to cook. One of my favorite parts of gaming is making food for my friends and hanging out before we break out character sheets or dice. I also love cooking for my family, small that it is, planning meals for dinner and making leftovers for next days lunch.

Here is a quick, easy recipe for Pork Roast. Leftovers can be slathered in barbeque sauce or used for taco/burrito fodder. Heck, even a crusty baguette and some lettuce could round out a ridiculously filling lunch. Here goes.

Pork Shoulder Roast: to be prepared the night before for best results

1 pork shoulder roast, about 3-4 lbs. These are generally cheaper than pork chops and other pork roasts and have a good amount of fat.
1-2 head of garlic, a nice big one. You can add more garlic if you like.
About....10 green olives, with pimientos (the red thing in the middle?)
Coriander..a Tablespoon?
Salt: 2 teaspoons? (I never neasure, these are all rough estimates)
Dried Oregano, about 2 tsp-1 T
Paprika, 1 tsp
Olive Oil
1 Lemon, cut in half
Liquid (this can be broth, water,

You will need a cutting board, a knife for chopping stuff, a knife for poking holes in meat, a dutch oven, a bowl and a spoon.

Mince the garlic, getting it as fine as you can. If you have a mortar and pestle, just use it instead, seriously. Place garlic in bowl.

Mince olives, as fine as you can. Add to garlic.

Add oregano, coriander, paprika, salt and a good glug of olive oil to the bowl. Mix it up.

Poke holes in pork roast with a knife (note: pork shoulders usually have one side that is like a little blanket of fat. This will be the top and should not have holes poked into it), making x's. Make them bigger with your finger and then stuff the garlic-olive-etc mixture into the holes, trying to get the chunks within the meat. Once all holes are filled and all mixture is used, rub your yucky, porky hands all over the thing, including the "top." Squirt the lemon juice all over it.

Wash your nasty hands.

Cover and let sit in a fridge overnight or on a counter for like, a few hours (all the herbs and salt will keep your pork roast from being a germ factory, so don't freak out Though I always make mine the night before). A few days would make it even better.

The day of eating, about 4 hours before when you want to eat it, throw roast into a cold oven, and turn it up to 325 F. In a few hours, your house will smell delicious. let cook at least 3 hours, till meat comes off easily with a fork. Serve with rice and beans, if you're a crazy latin like me, as well as a few lemon wedges.

This isn't a true traditional Puerto Rican pork roast but dude, I write about elves in my spare time. So what?

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Book Bound

For those of you who don't know, I like to write. Stories. I have been writing stories for a very long time and have wanted to be a writer for a very long time. However, it wasn't until very recently that I started showing my work to anyone besides my husband.

I also love to read. I have been reading since I was three, devouring any book I could get my hands on and wrap my brain around. I've always been a...skilled(?) reader, reading well above my grade level and able to read quickly to boot, devouring books left and right. My favorite books have always been myths, fantasy, history (mostly if it has to do with different cultures, the more in depth the better) and auto/biography. My favorite book growing up was "The Egypt Game," by Zilpha Keatly Schnieder. I must have read it quite a few times and would probably read it again if I had it on hand. That book opened the part of my brain that creates things and everything else i've read after that has kept that door open for the most part.

I also just love books. When I read books, I take care not to damage their spines, pulling the pages apart enough for me to read them, not bending the pages down to mark my place. I like the feel of pages, the look of them, the smell of paper. Journals entice me (though I hate lined ones). Possibility lays exposed on every page, a place for me to spill out my brain upon. Sanctuary, relief, in the form of pressed paper pulp.

When I was in college for the first time, I dabbled in book binding. I learned a few stitches, took a tutorial. Later, bought a stab binding kit. Folded construction paper into little books that can stand up. Scrawled in some, stared at others, trying to muster thoughts worthy of their pages.

Now I'm older, and I've been writing more. A lot more. I've been showing it off and I've been proud of it and I want to show it to more people. i want to be a writer to more than me and my circle of friends. So I plan on combining my mild bibliophilia with sme action.

I'm taking a book binding class in May. I am going to continue writing. And when i am done, I am going to print it out, and edit the crap out of it and make it as perfect as I can. Then I am going to bind it myself and offer it up to people.

This is my goal. This is what I am drawn to. This is what I am going to do.

Books, I love them. Hopefully, other people will love mine.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009


So, Chris and I are fairly certain we have found a place we want to live in Augusta, GA. Looking over the specs for rent and square footage, it makes our place a shit hole? Whenever we go to oher people's houses and come home, Sophia cries. As soon as we pull into the drive, "NO! Don't like it! Big house!" Yeah, even Sopi thinks it's time for a change of scenery.

What's kind of funny about it is that Chris and I were so intent on living at WT, wanting to leave our old 2-BR. I felt a little sad when we left that place to move the 500 yards to WT. It was where I spent a lot of my pregnancy, and well, I was pregnant at the time so I am sure hormones had something to do with it. And now, the sooner we get the hell out of here, the better. The building is old and wired shittily, the neighbors suck, the location is isolating, the plumbing is a problem...granted, I am glad that we have a place to stay, though you might not believe it. A lot of people are losing their jobs and their homes and Chris' isn't threatened in the least. But what can I say? We want something more? Something family friendly? Because that is what we are, us three (plus the cats). A family.

Chris is shipping out in exactly 2 months. We have quite a bit to do.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Did I gain a lvl? A prestige class? Or lose something?

So, in addition to being a wife, mom, gamer, cook, writer and anything else I am forgetting, I am going to be a: Army Wife.

Yep, as of Monday, my husband has enlisted in the United States Army. That means ALL of lives will be nutty. But yeah.

Also, I baked bread today. Yep, in addition to trying to find places to live in Augusta, GA, I also made whole wheat bread.

I think I get 50 xp for that.