It’s a rag top day

I’ve been noticing a few things about Raleigh and North Carolinians lately. And I’m not sure I like them (the things)

First: The people here are not very polite. Nice; yes. So nice that they’ll gab your ear off over anything. But, hold a door? Hell to the no. They’ll sooner slam it in your face that hold it for you. I happen to think that it’s nothing more than common courtesy to hold a door for any person who is 2 steps behind you going into a building. Every day, I have a person waltz right through. I’ve been hit by a few doors because, not paying attention, I expected it to be held for me. You should see the looks and praises I get when I hold doors. Shit, it ain’t no big thang. I guess maybe they smell the aloof Yankeetude on me.

Second: The drivers here are really starting to piss me off. A lot. They suck.

But, the roads are pretty cool. We live right near the intersection of a major East-West and North-South road here in North Raleigh. The E/W road is 2 lanes in each direction and the N/S is 2 or 3 in all places. When he was here, Merlot Man kept remarking on the roads. He could not believe that we had multi-lane roads. In northern NJ, it’s all one lane except if it’s a highway. Down here, they built the roads knowing people were coming. Smart folks. But, the lanes are a wee bit narrow. I think a standard lane of traffic is 12 feet wide. I think we have a lot of 10 footers. Reminds me of the Driscoll Bridge in NJ. Narrow lanes. So, there’s less wiggle room in the lane. Couple that with the fact that about 562 million assholes bought SUVs and pickups over the last 5 years and you have the potential for trouble.

Back to the drivers. They suck ass taint. And I think it’s because the average southerner is a blithering idiot. Face it, it’s a fact. (Exhibit 1 (Oh yes, I so did say that)) Throw them all a cell phone and disaster lurks. Throw them a big vehicle and it is lurkier. Then, put them in narrow lanes and we have ourselves a party. You have no idea how often I’m driving along, minding my business, marveling over how awesome Raleigh is when some assfucker in a pickup is suddenly lurching my way. Bubba is usually on his cell, likely talking to The Sports Pig about wanting to get man-raped by JJ Redneck or something. Bubba then lurches at me and then lurches away into the lane on the other side. Bubba is also good about coming to a complete stop before he turns (often sans blinker). I like that one, especially when he’s turning right on the other side of the road and I’m trying to determine whether or not I can make a left into t he same street (A skill that I’m learning…seeing as left hand turns are illegal in NJ). Know what else Bubba likes to do? He likes to be in the far left turning lane (#1 going left to right) and make a right, cutting across lanes 2-5. Same applies for left turns from the right turn lane. I like that one a lot. I need to buy me a gun.

I knew how to handle driving in NJ. There was a pattern to the randomness of it all. Basically, if there were more than 2 inches between you and the car in front of you, no matter your speed, you needed to expect that another car would try to occupy it. It was a fact of life and you could plan for it. Here…no pattern. You’re driving along and suddenly, you have someone on top of you for no good reason other than the fact that his inbred moonshine-addled brain can’t handle driving and talking at the same time.

***fuckshitgoddamhoar**

That was all written yesterday. I van never get through an entry all in one sitting.

Where was I? Right..nowhere…

Moving on…

I couldn’t get it done yesterday because I have received yet another set of work-related marching orders. Guess who’s leaving on a jet plane again? I get to spend all of next week in Sunny NJ. Woohoo! Up on Monday AM and back on Friday afternoon. A fun-filled week of meetings and planning. We need to cram 120 days worth of shit into the next 78. I’m so excited. If there’s nothing I love more than corporate feet dragging, it’s corporate feet dragging.

I need to shop today and tomorrow as a result. I need luggage. All I have is one small rolling bag. It’s fine for a 2 night trip, but it’s winter and clothes tend to get bigger in the winter. Plus, I’ll need to pack sneakers to wear to the hotel gym…need to keep rehabbing. Plus, all we have is an assortment of huge duffel bags for our luggage. It’s high time we get some real bags. Plus, there are sales galore this weekend.

I also think it’s time to join the digital age and get me a PDA. I need a way to get to my phone numbers and notes without booting the laptop up and I guess that’s the way to do it. I’m going out this afternoon to get it. I dread getting one because I hate the people who are always ticking away at them in public places, while on their Bluetooth thing, while wearing neatly pressed Dockers. Ugh…makes me want to puke. Off I go to further my training as a digital asshole! I’m keeping it simple and getting a pretty basic Palm. I don’t need the ability to watch movies or take pictures or play music or cook dinner…I need addresses and phone numbers and notes. I’m so wicked old school.

One programming note:

Since it’s about to be my favorite season of the year (College Hoops season), you may notice this mess taking on a slightly sportish tone. If you don’t like it, fuck off. But I think I need to stir up some basketball fever here.

For the record:
Went to Rutgers but they suck so never really liked them.
Did not go to UConn but have followed them since 1990 and am a lunatic fan
Hate North Carolina
Viscerally Hate Duke.
I can’t tell you how much I hate Duke. I’m getting angry just typing their name.

One Shmuppieism for the road:
Last night…dinner time…Shmuppie is getting a head start on things because, as I say, she evolves into dinner.

So, the 2 of us are in the kitchen getting our dinners ready and Shmuppie’s at the table…eating spaghetti by hand.

JewelrySlut: Hey Shmuppie! Think maybe you could try using your utensils?
Shmupipe: No, I’ll use my handtensil

After one or two false starts

Here’s a good one from the other night:

It’s 8:00 or so, also known as bedtime for Shmuppie. JewelrySlut’s taking the reigns tonight, handling the undressing the “pissing of the kid” as we call it, washing, tooth brushing and dressing in PJs. They tend to bicker in the bathroom. I’m better in the bathroom, JewelrySlut’s better at meal time. Just works that way. Anyhoo. Shmuppie’s screwing around on the potty. She’s fidgeting and not going.

(As opposed to last night when she was sitting there, stark naked, twisting her nipples saying “Boobies Boobies Boobies. Boobies Boobies Boobies. Boobies Boobies Boobies.” But that’s another show)

From the hallway, I yell “Get your ass back on that toilet”
From the bathroom: Don’t say that Daddy. You say ‘Get your ass on that potty’”

Right, kid. Whatever you say.

I have to pee. This is the 2nd time that I’ve had to pee so bad that it hurts. Go pee you say. I wish I could, but, for the 2nd time today, I’m on a call that I can’t get off of. I’m on with the woman in the Ivory Tower who I worked with all summer on the vendor work. I also want her to hire me so I have to be nice while she talks and talks.

But earlier, I was on a call with my boss and another woman. This was fun. The 3 of us were talking. At the same time, my boss and I were having a side conversation AND we were having another side conversation among me, her and 2 people in her office. PLUS, Chika was IM’ing me trying to rationalize her lustful thoughts for me through Chinese horoscopes or some other voodoo stuff. All I knew was that I needed to pee…REAL BAD.

**I wrote all that yesterday. Now it’s today. Yesterday got crazy on me**

I’m here in the basement doing a full on pee pee dance. JewelrySlut, ever the helpful wife, is offering me assorted small vessels to pee into. Opening the doors to the backyard is looking really good right about now.

I finally get off the call and run upstairs into the hall bathroom. Of course, Shmuppie’s stool is blocking the door. I kick it aside. Her potty seat (not a toilet seat, thank you) is on the potty. I toss it aside. Now, because it’s morning, I have no my track pants. I grab the drawstring…relief is mere seconds away…and promptly manage to tie it into a double knot. Not paying attention (I’m now blind from the need to pee); I pull harder on the string. I’m stuck. I try to pull the pants down. No luck, they’re too tight. I try to pull them down a wee bit and sneak Mr. Winkie up over the top. While I can accomplish that, I have now managed to bend my penis into a shape utterly incompatible with urination. Should I continue, it will either come out in spastic spurts or just not come out at all. I do the only thing I can think to do. I yell for JewelrySlut to come help me. She comes barreling down the stairs (her and Shmuppie are getting ready to go somewhere) because I’m hollering. I’m standing there, still dancing, and pleading for her to undo the knot. She does, but by now, Shmuppie has joined us in the downstairs hallway. It seems that she’s happy to see me and wants to tell me a story or hug me or just fuck around directly in my path. The knot is freed, but I now have a toddler in my way. I shoo the kid aside, slam the door and do one of those 4 minute Austin Powers pees. Thank God. Relief never felt so wonderful.

**back to today**

Well, I’m now playing the new job thing to the hilt. My boss knows that she needs me after March. I don’t think I need her anymore. I can smell what’s going to happen. I’ll stay working in our area, get my pitiful 2.9% raise and continue working. Only now I’ll be managing this new vendor relationship. All I know is that I’ll be vastly underpaid and in a department where there’s never any opportunity for growth. Our finance guy wants me out so bad I’m sure he can taste it. However, getting my salary off the books will not really solve the problem at hand. The problem is that there is one director, 1 senior manager, 1 regular manager and 3 supervisors who overseeing maybe 20 people. Right there has got to be at least half a million dollars in wasted money. They’re all there to manage and supervise nothing. After March ends, that 20 will be down to about 10 (our operation represents half of the total hourly employee workforce). Great. But I’m the problem.

Now if I go work for this other woman and manage the vendor relationship from under her, I think I could be looking at a 50% raise easily. This woman is also helping me look for a new job and it tossing around salary numbers that it would take me roughly the rest of my life to make at my current rate of increases. I think that’s what I should be paid…a lot more than I am. I took the lousy salary deal this year in order to get this work from home deal. Now it’s going to be time to pay the hell up. I also have a meeting later on with another internal department who may be interested in my services. It could be very funny. One day, my boss could turn around and I could be gone. Gone as in out of the company entirely or gone as in out from under her. The sad thing is that she sees it coming but keeps begging me to not do anything until she has time to discuss it all with TiniVP. Right. Sure, let me do that right away. All in all, things look good. The woman who’s heading up the whole vendor thing is really pushing for me to get the position in charge of our operation’s relationship. I’m pretty sure I’m going to get it too. I’m just wary of whom I’ll be working for and whether or not I’ll be making what I deserve.

And, if I play this wrong and lose my job…so be it. We came to Raleigh because it’s got a good job market. I’ll land on my feet in the end. I just need to avoid coming off too cocky.

It should be fun.

**EDIT TIME** I just got another extension until the end of June. That’s good news. Now, let’s go for the kill and get this thing permanent.

I’ve run away from politcs, it’s too bizarre at home

I have 3 topics I don’t often discuss here: Religion, Politics and Sports. Mainly because I don’t want to start arguments or people just don’t care.

Too bad.

I wish I could sum it up better, but my hero, Bill sums it up well, right here.

Can we get a round table of me, Nightmare, Smed, Pedro to discuss last night’s Rose Bowl?

Why was USC not punting with 2:11 to go? We all knew Texas would move the ball against the invisible SC defense. Why not make them move it 80-90 yards instead of 50? And, Hi…Reggie Bush…might want him on the field at 4th and 2. AND…what was the timeout call for? The PAT means you need a FG to win. The 2-pointer means you need a FG to tie. Either way you need the FG and only have 19 seconds to achieve it. Why not have a TO in your pocket?

Now, I don’t 2nd guess coaches much. I’m the guy lying in bed in his underpants and they’re the coaches for a reason, but come on….that was B-A-D.

Have
any of you three fallen asleep yet? Wait…it gets better…

I watched the 2nd half from bed with the sound off. It was better than listening to Keith Jackson doing his Keith Jackson impersonation and Dan Fouts fucking up everything. It was more enjoyable that way. It gave me more ability to focus on what I was reading…

someone over there has made me look at things differently.

As I’ve mentioned, I voted for Bush twice. Because, honestly, folks: Al Gore? John Kerry? I’d have sooner voted for one of my cats over those two. If only they had run.

Anyhoo…I tend to trust Woodward. He’s biased like everyone else, but maybe a little less. Plus, he did OK with the other book, so I figured this would be OK.

So, I ask us all: Have we ever elected a bigger bunch of morons than this group? And we even re-elected them?! There’s nobody better out there? I’d sooner vote for a Feyg. But, we don’t let them run for President.

If the book is accurate, Rumsfeld and Cheney are as insane as they’re portrayed to be. And that’s not good. Reading the book, knowing that none of the WMD have yet (and I do say “yet”. It COULD still happen) been found makes this all look like lunacy. They wanted this war and got it. For what? Gas still costs a ton and kids are getting killed. (Shit..I’m sounding like a Whiny liberal now. I need to say something Conservative…shit…I know…FLAT TAX!!!)

The book is eye-opening. I don’t know what I’m learning from it, but it sure is eye-opening. Who the hell are we going to have to choose from in 2008? It’s going to be a mess. The smart people know better than to run for President.

Ugh…oh well..I need to talk about poop or something now…

I hear a cat shitting in the distance. I should have a stroke in about 1 minute.

Apparently, the votes are in and Guapo wins. So, both Guapo and Shmuppie are asleep right now. The herd of elephants that I’ve been listening to all day is gone. Amazing how much noise 2 little kids can make when properly inspired.

And…my mother’s sick and not coming this weekend. She has the stomach flu and figures (correctly) that we don’t want it. Oh shucks. Next time I guess. I have to call Continental to cancel the reservation as soon as I have a minute. See, folks, I place typing out this drivel over her concerns. If that’s not love, what is?

Time to wrap this up. All those links took a lot out of me. Is there”Writing Blogs for Retards” software I can use? I type these in Word and then copy them to Dland for the formatting. Even doing that, the links make me tired.

And…I promise to start writing down Shmuppie-isms soon. She’s good at mangling the English language. I need t put a pad upstairs by the table.

And…Sweetie, the keys are in an envelope and it’s even addressed. If I can get out of the house today, I’ll try to mail them too.

You’re caught up in the internet, you think it’s such a great asset

Reason #3 why I love the internet:
People who toe the line between genius and sociopath finally have an outlet.
**Sports Alarm! Sports Alarm!! Turn away if you are not interested.

Case in point (and thanks to Deadspin for the link) is This Guy. He has gone and written what can only be described as a treatise against the management of the New York Jets. It’s astounding. Not to mention accurate.

I mean, before this whole internet thing, this guy is just a loser sitting in his mom’s basement. Now, he’s a loser with a web page and an audience. Genius. Pure genius I tell you.

Speaking of sports, holy shit, did my UConn Huskies ever get the shit kicked out of them last night. Welcome to the real season, boys. Think you all can manage to wake the fuck up and play some ball?

Then again, I can’t complain because my Redskins are in the playoffs and I think they could pull an upset this weekend. That would be sweet. I just hope the Panthers go into the Meadowlands and beat the Giants. Then I can abuse my brother (Who I think uses his fandom as a cover for his latent homosexuality. He’s waaaaaaay too into football lately after never expressing any interest as a kid). But that’s another episode.

End of sports rant…for now

So, life is fun here this week. Quasi called us on Sunday night to let us know that their son’s babysitter is in the hospital or something. Could we watch him?

Before we go further…I need to put the nephew’s name to a vote here. It’s either going to be his real nickname or Guapo.

His parents call him “Necko”. I can hear you now. “Neck-o” What the hell is that? A tribute to these things? Unfortunately, No. They can’t spell. It’s pronounced “Nee-Ko”. (A bizarre adaptation of his real name). But, it’s spelled like (Neck-o). Should be spelled Nico if you ask me. But, they didn’t, so the kid has a retard nickname.

Or Guapo. Why Guapo? Well, he’s a moose and his Dad’s a Columbian Boat Baby. Plus, Guapo reminds me of him and he deserves to be linked from time to time.

So, until you heathens vote, he’s going to be Kid.

So, JewelrySlut has to wake up at 6:15 yesterday to go pick up Kid at a local Perkins’s. HaHaHaHa for her. She hasn’t woken to an alarm since June 10. Ha! Kid’s OK. He’s very well-behaved and he and Shmuppie seem to be getting along. The Drama Queen is a little possessive and prone to crying fits, but she’ll survive. The 3 of them are at the Y right now for Shmuppie’s swimming lessons. Maybe JewelrySlut will have all of her hair when she gets home.

Did I mention that my mother’s coming to town on Friday? Yup…She called Tuesday morning to mention that Continental had the Uberfare this week and maybe she could cancel the tickets and swap them for the cheap ones, pocketing the original fare for later use (to go along with the other 3 tickets that she has in the can from Christmas). Fine…but you need to fly Saturday to Monday or Tuesday. That’s no good because then nobody would be home to watch the 3 hounds of Hell. So, she’s back to coming Friday afternoon and leaving Sunday evening. I think the Uncomfortableness Factor will be quite high. She’s hella pissed at me after Christmas. Whatever. We may go to a zoo or something. Maybe wolves can eat her.

Jesus, this is all over the place, isn’t it?

Go read Chika’s latest post. I’d feel worse for her if it weren’t so GD funny. HA!

Oh what?

YOU’re jealous over the lack of linkage. Fine. Have a link. And thanks for packing your fudge for me.

WarCryGirl’s coming to town next weekend or something. I think. I wonder if she’ll end up wandering the streets of Raleigh all agog over the wonder of the tall buildings. Her town’s a little “rustic” you know.

How many typos so far? I can only imagine.

Oh yea…here’s one that’s going to get me in big trouble. Why mention it? Because it deserves mentioning.

OK…so we have to acts, Nipsey (older) and Peebo (younger). Their shitbox is under the basement stairs. I happen to hate Peebo. Always have. She’s skittish and is going to get trampled one of these days because she likes to dash out in front of me all the time. The day that she causes me to fall down a flight of stairs is the day I kill her. It’s bound to happen.

Anyway, back to the shitbox. Peebo, for a cat her size, has an amazing ability to shit her body weight 35 times per day. She’s also lazy and only goes right at the edge of the shitbox. So, if the box hasn’t been cleaned since her last dump, she goes on the floor. This morning, I came down here and passed Peebo on the stairs. And the basement smelled like shit. Like a lot of shit. I peeked under the stairs and 4 logs peeked back at me. FUCK! Naturally, I started yelling. I’m mature like that. I did one of my “Why don’t you (JewelrySlut) ever clean this fucking thing out?” routines. All at 7:30 mind you. So, I’m swearing up a storm and my knee is making noises at me and I’m scooping up mountains of shit. Good times. I hate the cats. We should have potty trained them. If I have to take over litter box duties, I’m going to be mad. (If you’re keeping score…that’s the sentence that gets me in trouble) I handled the shitbox during the pregnancy because JewelrySlut couldn’t, but otherwise, that’s her job.

Moving on…

Work is boring for the most part. There’s a lot going on up there but with me here, it’s hard to accomplish much. I need to go there, bash a few heads together and get some progress made. But, I’m not in the mood for NJ. It’s nearly 60 here today and there’s no snow on the ground. I prefer it this way. It’s got to pick up soon. Our operation is closing on March 31 and there’s been no progress with the new vendor. I need to rattle some cages about that.

Want another recipe?

Ok…you convinced me. Then I promise to leave
Awesome fish tacos by NoGoodDaddy
Software:
Grouper fillets
1 each: Red pepper, Green pepper, Onion
14oz can diced tomatoes (drained)
Garlic
Cumin
Assorted yummy things to season with
Lime Juice

Chop the 3 vegetables into little bits. Throw them in a hot pan for a few minutes until they start to cook. Toss in the garlic, some cumin, salt, pepper and whatever else you think will make it taste yummy. Toss in the tomatoes and get it off the heat. You don’t want mush on your hands. Transfer to a bowl. Once it cools a bit, throw in enough lime juice to make you happy.

I had like somewhere between ½ and ¾ lbs of fish. I plopped them in a baking dish that had been sprayed. Heat the oven to 375 or so. The fish cot a dusting of cumin and then got some West Indies herbs that I have. I made a paste out of them by soaking them in olive oil. Into the oven they went for about 13-15 minutes.

Remove from oven. Take a warmed tortilla (dampen some paper towels, wrap them around the tortillas and nuke for 20 seconds), pile in some of last night’s rice and beans mixture (heated), some fish pieces and some of the salsa/veggie stuff. Roll, eat, and cream your pants from the unholy goodness of it all.

Bye.

**I hope the apostraphe shit doesn’t happen again…Pleasepleasepleaseplease*

2-0-0-6 is ushered in with air raid horns and bells

**apologies to the title: I took a little liberty there. Sorry Jimmy.**

Since the 2nd half of 2005 was all about not taxing myself too much, let’s outline some goals for 2006.

I have 2 and should be able to achieve them both without too much pain.

1: Lock down employment beyond March 31. Do this as soon as possible to eliminate any need for stress in the coming months. I have a few solid leads right now and want to start working on them soon after we all return to work. I just wonder if I want to continue on with HealthCareRelatedCompany or venture out into the world. I’ll have 3 years with them as of May and lots of vacation time coming my way. But, I don’t have much to do and the work I do now is utterly unchallenging. But, I think I can hook up with a certain person who I worked with this summer and be more than challenged. We get along well and she’s eager to try to land me. I’d have a lot to do and would likely enjoy it. I may have to go back and forth to NJ on a somewhat regular basis, but I don’t care. I bitch about the travel, but it’s not too bad. And, working for her should being a hefty raise. Hell, my next job should bring one.

2: Rehab the knee. Get it better so I don’t have to think about it anymore. I want to go to St John in August and not worry about it. I don’t want to wake up wit it feeling all sore. It was bad yesterday morning. It hurt like a bugger and I was not happy. It was like that all day until it popped again at dinner time and then it felt better. I think I need new legs or something. I have 3 weeks of PT left and then I’ll continue on with the rehab at the Y. I do have to pace myself better. It starts feeling better and then I push too hard. As a result, the following day never feels good.
2A: Continue to exercise. I was on such a roll this fall. I enjoyed the swimming. I’ll get back to the pool, but need to make sure I mix in weights and something else. I don’t think my joints can take only swimming. I need to keep my knees in better shape if I want to avoid surgery. It’s that simple.

Beyond that, not too much. I could say that I want to be a better person, but that would be a lie. I guess I could try to get along better with my parents. But, there’s a long way to go on that one and it’s going to take more than 2006 to mend fences. Ugh: let’s not talk about that anymore today. Mmkay?

2005 was a good year. From little things like starting this dopey diary to bigger things like moving to NC.

There were bad times, but they all seemed to be temporary things.

When JewelrySlut and Shmuppie got in the car accident, it was bad. However, it was almost like one final push to get us out of NJ.

The move itself sucked taint, but it did get us here.

My knee sucks, but maybe it was a warning sign that I need to take better care of myself.

What else? My parents are dodos but I no longer care all that much. I seem like I may, but lot of it is for dramatic effect to please all 2 of my readers.

More with the good:

I really like you ass pirates. I loved meeting some of my adoring fans and stealing their keys. (By the way: I’m too lazy for links today). I got stuff sent to me in the mail from utter strangers who I now consider to be my friends. Cyber Hugs for Everybody (puke)

We got to see Shmuppie really grow a lot in the last 6 months into the terror that she is. She may look cute, but evil lurks beneath.

We took our first family vacation to Red Neck Central. AND LOVED IT! (I’m already contemplating a mid-Feb trip back to a beach somewhere)

All in all, 2005 was awesome. I liked it.

I’ll update briefly about NYE:

We went to Quasi and Dingaling’s house. It was worse than expected. We were fed marginally edible food (Both were sick yesterday and NOT hangover sick: more of what did we eat? Sick). We brought some food, but it was not enough. The 2 of them are just awful. White Trash at its best. Get them drunk and the fun starts. At one point, they vanished to the garage and came back with bloody lips. Nice. Then, Dingaling started bawling: and I mean crying like a lunatic. JewelrySlut got to hear all about how she’s tired of Quasi and misses her mother-in-law. Hey: we all miss her, but I think we need to accept it and move on (And: JewelrySlut agrees with me here. This is not just me being an asshole). I got to deal with Quasi who (with Crown Royal breath) got back into how much he hates me because of where I went to high school and how I used to bang his sister: in 1992! We got to rehash how much he still wants to punch me in the face. I told him to do it and get over with it because I was sick of hearing it. I think I also told him to grow the fuck up and to try acting like an adult for a little while. There were maybe a dozen times when I really wish I’d stopped after my 2nd drink so we could have driven home. What a mess. And, I’m not even starting on their house. It’s filthy and sticky. Not good. We didn’t get to sleep until after 2 and were up before 8. But, we endured it and never have to do it again. We spend yesterday alternating between the bed and the toilet.

But I made a kick ass dinner:

Want a recipe?

NoGoodDaddy’s New Year’s Pork
(sounds like a movie title)

Software:
2lb (or so) pork tenderloin cut into big chunks.
2 cups rice
4 cups water or stock
1 can black beans
Assorted seasonings
Some frozen corn
A bunch of chives

Heat your oven to 375
In an oven-proof pan, sear the pork. Make sure it’s good and seasoned beforehand with yummy things. Really anything will work. I did some Creole-type stuff, salt and pepper. Remove it from the pan and throw in the rice and a little oil. Just toss it around a bit, scraping the bottom of the pan. Add the liquid and bring to a boil. Add the beans and the pork to the pan. Dampen an old dish towel and put it over the pan and then cover with a lid (You’re introducing a steam-making device AND locking in any escaping moisture. Let it cook for like 22-25 minutes. When it’s almost done, heat up the corn and drain it. I used about a cup or 2. Remove the pan and toss in the corn and chives. They brighten up the food: it’s kinda poop-colored. Serve in bowls and enjoy the goodness. Plus, beans on New Year’s are apparently good luck. It kicked major ass.

Not much else to say. Shmuppie has her first swimming lesson in a little while so we’re all headed to the Y. Beyond that, I intend to sit and watch football today.

I’m thawing some grouper for dinner so I may have to post another inane recipe tomorrow. (Has anyone ever made any of my creations?)

Happy New Year, everybody. 2006 should be fun. I look forward to more clandestine meetings with you nerds. If I’m in your town, be sure that I’m looking you up!

And: one link here just because I can.

Up on my soapbox I go: oomph:

Meany’s coming home in a few days. Whether or not you support what’s going on in Iraq, give our girl some props and pray to whatever it is that you pray to that she makes it home OK. I think you’re next on the Internet Date list for me. I have a big hug and a kiss waiting for you here in NC. Come on home girl.