How do I make Macaroni and Cheese again?

So it's Thanksgiving....My favorite holiday. This year, my husband is in Philly and I'm dog sitting Cozmo. She's a pretty rad dog as far as dogs go. She talks (barks and mumbles) in her sleep. And communicates very well when awake.....except for right now I don't really know what she wants. I opened the door, put food in the dish, indulged her licking fetish and let her give me a few laps across the back of my hand. She keeps staring at me like I'm supposed to know what she wants, but I don't.

Anyway, today comes with a few traditions. Considering this is the only time of the year I am actually in kitchen, I often spend a lot of time making long distance calls for kitchenly advice. The annual call to my mom to find out how to make broccoli surprise. I already called my sister for the Mac and Cheese recipe. I'll be stuffing the celery with cream cheese and green olives while enjoying some warm spiked cider while I watch the Macy's day parade. A special time where I shout at the television and bitch about how the whole damn thing is so commercial and be annoyed by the new Christmas commercials they'll show as they cut off the Atlanta marching band.Then I'll haul all my snacks to Howfly island and enjoy a meal of fried turkey and hushpuppies, tasty cocktails and ultra lounging in front of the TIVO. Oh I can't wait!! I love thanksgiving!!

I have so much to give thanks for. I got married to my fabulous soulmate of ten years. Had a kick ass wedding and was surrounded by all my friends and family. The evil that is my upstairs neighbors, are moving out mid December!! No more hammertown!!!The leak has been repaired in my condo. A few of my friends had healthy babies this year. (Welcome Oscar, Jago, Allisa and Francesca...Oh yeah, and Robin's new babe whose name I don't know yet!) I graduated from massage school and have actual clients. Life isn't sucking right now, and I am giving thanks!!!

Well Cozmo is staring at me again......and I need to saute the sausage for the stuffed mushrooms... and I can't believe its almost 8:00 am and I haven't had my holiday cocktail yet....And the parade's going to start soon....

Happy Turkeyday everyone!!!!

(((peace)))

B-Girls Be Rockin On and On....

Last night I was flicking channels during a commercial and ran into the Beastie Boys on Conan O'Brien w/the human beat box, Doug E. Fresh. Needless to say, their performance was FRESH!!! They are so cutting edge/old school at the same time. They talked to Conan after their performance and they looked just like they looked back in the day. Puffy coats, baseball caps, Adidas. They look exactly the same. Except with grayer hair.

I love the Beastie Boys. I saw them in San Francisco a couple of months ago and it was the best concert I've seen, hands down. I didn't have much hope going in. The most recent record, is good, but it's no Hello Nasty. I also hadn't seen them live since their first tour in 1987. (Where a giant penis emerged from the center of the stage during their fight for your right to party encore and Public Enemy opened up for them). I've seen "the bands you loved in high school" in concert and usually they suck out loud. But the Beasties did not disappoint. They did their rap thing, then busted out the instruments and 3 piece powder blue polyester suits, circa 1975 or so and jammed. Then rapped more. Then snuck off stage and appeared in the balcony to do Intergalactic (which was only 3 rows away from where we were watching the show!!!!) Then dedicated sabotage to George W. The show was totally high energy. Everyone there was psyched. They played every song you wanted to hear from all their albums, not just their current one. They had a sing a long of Paul Revere. They rocked the house. It was awesome.

It's refreshing to see them doing so well. They haven't sold out. Which is hard in the music business. I mean, have you seen Henry Rollins doing spots on VH-1? What the fuck is that? The Beasties are political, aren't afraid or ashamed to bring issues to the forefront. But still have a sense of humor. I just love them.

They prove that everything from the 80's wasn't total crap. Everybody get down!

The waiting, is the hardest part.

So I’m waiting for the plumber and the general contractor to come and tell me what we’ve been telling the powers that be for more than three years now, that the walls need to be opened up upstairs in order to figure out what the fuck is going on with the leak. I called the plumber this morning to see if they could give me an actual time that they’d be showing up, but of course, no response from them. The last I heard was “sometime” between 9:30 and 10:30. It’s crazy how these guys really have you by the balls. (Contractors, Plumbers, cable guy, telephone repair, mechanic) Why is it impossible for them to just give you a time? Control, or lack thereof, has really been coming up for me in the past few weeks. It’s unfuckingbelievable the amount of bullshit and run around you get trying to get something done with a condo association…and a management company. Neither of which are living through the rain in their unit. But both “understand” what we must be going through. Well I believe the COA really is concerned, but I’m pretty positive the management company could give a shit either way. It’d be different if we were dealing with a few drips and drops here and there. But it’s not just a drip, it fucking rains inside my first floor condo, and it’s been raining in here for 3 years. Yeah, doesn’t make much fucking sense. Barrels full. But we’ve got to “go through the proper channels”, and get a “good bid”, and understand that “these things take time” and “we don’t have that much money”, and…blah, blah, blah fucking blah. So I’m waiting. My patience again being tested. And I know I’m not the only one in the world who has to deal with this fucking foolishness. Everyone everywhere passing the buck. No one is responsible for shit anymore.

Over the weekend, I was watching RV secrets. It’s on the travel channel, which I love to watch. Since I want nothing more than to get the fuck out of my condo and live where there are trees, grass and no one over my head hammering incessantly or running their fucking dogs. (I don’t hate dogs, just hate them running over my head in the morning my neighbors totally fucking suck, there’s sure to be a blog about them soon) anyway, I’m watching the travel channel and they’re showing these massive RV’s. Some of them a cross between a tour bus and motor home. It was funny because when I was watching it, I was thinking that the band should utilize these more. They rent a tour bus for every tour. And the bus has bunks, and a lounge, a toilet (for pee only), microwave and fridge. Sounds cool. But when I saw these RV’s, those guys are really missing out. Parts of the RV slide out for extra space. Are equipped with showers, and flat screen televisions. Even a little more like home.

There are these places that are luxury RV parks. Hot tubs, swimming pools, golf, hiking trails, beautiful scenery, gourmet dining. It’s wild. A whole other culture going on. If you and a bunch of friends all got RV’s, you could meet up at these places and have some fun. And if your neighbors suck, you can drive away from them and go to another place. I’ve really got to downsize my life; cuz this really seems like it could work for me. With the political climate the way it is, and me not being able to afford to move to Canada or any other good cool place, RV living is looking pretty fucking good. There are a ton of places that I’ve never been to that are RV friendly. I’d love to explore the desert more.

So yeah, I’m still waiting. No calls from anyone. I have all day though. So what’s the big fucking deal? I don’t need to make a living or anything like that. I’m not sure how well sarcasm comes across on the blog. But right now, I’m being pretty sarcastic. I’m getting my daily headache. Pretty psyched about that. It’s not one that would stop traffic, just a little annoying throbbing at my right temple. I’ve been drinking good mood tea, which has St. John’s Wort in it. I don’t know if it’s working or not, of if it’s just a distraction from being mostly annoyed. I called the plumber back and the lady said, “He’s on his way”. I called the contractor and he said “ on his way”. Who knows what the fuck that means?

Since I STILL feel this way...

The last thing I’d say.

Under siege
I see that we
Are under siege
From the news we
Read to the food we
Eat genetically engineered
To feed our hunger
Under siege and
In a cage trying
To maintain my
Rage about this
Helpless feeling
I’m reelin and wishin
I could believe my
Government controlled
Media and news
Gives me the blues and I cry cuz
I don’t understand why
No one else is
Outraged by
This genetically engineered
Experience called the
American dream, I have a
Dream, pieces of a dream
Scattered across my consciousness
Memories of freedom in Fragments
And I’m nauseous from the spinning
And grinning and faking that
Things are all right, despite what
I see before my eyes and feel in my
gut. Under siege
And pushed to extremes, a society
Mourning the loss of a carefree
Lifestyle. Towers fell and rubble
Troubled the hearts of
The untouchable ones
as the dust & debris
Settles around me,
it’s hard to see, just
Who’s the enemy?
Is it Bush or Osama?
Is it Saddam or my Mama?
Is it big businesses merging?
Or activists emerging with
Their own political agenda
Sending generically democratic vibes
Through a crowd of over
150,000 people on Saturday
afternoon. And I feel
Oppressed and Under siege
pushed to the
Extreme, I am looking for my
courage
To speak my truth, Speak and
Know I am heard. My words,
My power,
Taken in and considered.
Looked for strength hidden in
history looking back in
Time to find courage in the
Faces of filmed nonviolent
Protesters of the 60’s, tryin
To get secrets of survival
From those faces faced with
Hoses and barking dogs
Bearing teeth hungry for
The blood of civil rights,
And still they’d fight.
Fast forward to January 18, 2003
Nare a dog in sight in these
Streets baring teeth and breaking
Flesh on the leg of the oppressed.
Perhaps we are no longer a threat
To the powers that be. See While
Covert actions and tactics, slap
greasy white hands
with hundred dollar back
room handshake deals
This government has
Unknowingly cultivated a poetic
Rebel, reveling in her truth.
That rebel is me. At this
Point, I believe I’ve got
nothing left to
Loose. So still a little scared
I choose to speak. As if
Today was the last day to
Say what I might without being
Deemed a terrorist. Aware that
There is power in
my words
power that might bring
Pain to my body, I admit
I haven’t come to terms with
The dogs, or the hoses or the
idea of being taken into
custody, and no one knowing
where I am. But I understand that
I must stand
and say now if never again
“I do not support your war Mr. President”
“No Blood for Oil!!”

Shanta M. © 2003

Spinning Wheels Gotta Go Round..and round...and round

So here's my first post on my first blog ever. I'm at my office. I'm bored out of my fucking mind. Could there be a better time to create a blog? Finally, a place to bitch, moan, cuss and write random thoughts that swirl around my brain for all the "world" to see. And I've got PLENTY to say. I've avoided blogging up until now because I thought, "someone might find out it's me". So fucking what. We are going to hell in a handbasket, so I might as well speak right up while I still can.

Should I speak of the obvious? Was that a fucked up election or what? The results, although not surprising, still made me completely sick. I could hardly eat. Now you know it's bad when politics effect your food intake. My stomach still isn't exactly "right". I hope I get over it soon, I actually enjoy eating.

I got married recently to a bass player. We've been together more than ten years, but it was at the wedding that I really realized I'd married my mom. Which isn't too bad. My mom is bad ass. So is my husband for that matter. (and I'm not just saying that because we're married and all). By normal standards, I should have married "my dad", but since he was in absentia during my life, it was my mom I searched high and low to find. And she turned up in the form of a dude who tours with a rock band. Go figure.

My boss just came back, fuck, I guess I should look busy. Which is harder than it sounds.

(((Peace)))