Wednesday, September 30, 2009

My Random Thoughts Know No Bounds

I've mentioned before that some of my best thinking is done in the bathroom at work. I have several theories as to why this is so, despite the fact that my visits are generally less than 2 minutes in length.

Anyhow, so I'm sitting in there and notice a big, dead bug, right smack in the middle of the floor. After recovering from my shuddering, I realize the bugger is still alive. It kinda thrashes about every few seconds. What, exactly, is it doing? Is it attempting a suicide by human? Is it trying to lure me out into the open so it's little friends can attack? Is it simply waiting for it's grandbugs to be summoned to his deathbed so he can utter some cryptic message?

I envision the bug muttering, "Rosebud" to it's perplexed kin before expiring.

It's then that the little sucker jumps up and runs away.


Deep thoughts,


Friday, September 25, 2009

Pasta Salad's Finest Day

Everyone has had pasta salad. They all kinda start to taste the same. Similar ingredients, similar dressings. Very blah. The bakery/cafe I used to work at out in Riverside, CA used to have THE BEST pasta salad I had ever tasted. It was so different from every other one I'd ever tried. It was prepared well before even the early crew got there, so I never got to see exactly what went in it. I made my guesstimations, but it was never quite right.
Enter Meagan, stage left. Meagan's family and I bonded while her brother and The Dude were in Iraq together. Our two Marines actually shared the same birthday. I traveled to Texas to visit and Meagan made this wonderful pasta salad for me. Jaw on the counter. THIS WAS IT! This recipe tasted just like the one back in Riverside! So yummy. I ate well more than my share.

Meag's Pasta Salad
1 lb pasta (I used tri-colored, cheese filled tortellini)
¼ lb summer sausage or salami
¼ lb sliced pepperoni
¼ lb Asiago cheese, diced
1 6oz can sliced black olives, drained
1 red bell pepper, chopper
1 green orange or yellow pepper, chopped
2 tomatoes, chopped
1 (7oz) pkg. dry Italian salad dressing mix
¾ c extra virgin olive oil
¼ c balsamic vinegar
2 T dried oregano
1 T dried parsley
¼ lb grated Parmesan cheese
1 small block mozzarella cheese, cubed (I had fresh mozzarella balls on hand)
Salt and pepper to taste

Cook pasta in salted water until al dente. Drain and rinse with cool water

Chop/slice all of the ingredients that need it.

It all looked so pretty lined up on my cutting board. I couldn't decide which photo I liked best.

So I included them all.

In a large bowl, toss the pasta with salami, pepperoni, Asiago cheese, black olives, red pepper, orange/yellow pepper, tomatoes, and mozzarella cheese. Stir in the envelope of dressing mix. Cover and refrigerate for at least one hour.

For the dressing, whisk together the olive oil, balsamic vinegar, oregano, parsley, Parmesan cheese, salt and pepper. Just before serving, pour dressing over the salad and mix well.

Man, I'm telling you, F A B U L O U S! If you're bringing this to a function, be sure and make a few copies of the recipe because you WILL be asked for it!

**You can totally leave this vegetarian. Omit the meats and toss in some artichoke hearts or mushrooms or whatever!

Don't feel bound by the recipe, use whatever things you have in the fridge. The key here is the dressing!

Thursday, September 24, 2009


I have been running on it. I have been getting at least 8 hrs of sleep for the last week and I'm LOVING it.

One would think that would leave me plenty of time and energy to blog. One would be mistaken. With my new found energy, I have been doing so much. I've been snapping pictures of it all, promising myself I would throw it up on the ol' blog. Alas, that has not happened. At my current state, I'm best described as a chicken with it's head cut off, after drinking about ten Full Throttles (The Dude's energy drink of choice).
BUT, after a week, I feel my natural, sleep induced high is evening out. My body is slowly starting to adjust to all this extra sleep. Me-thinks my mind will calm down as well and I'll be able to get all this back-logged blogging done. Get yer pens and pencils ready kids. It's gonna come rapid fire.

Ta-ta for now!

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Men and the bathroom.

Can anyone explain to me why men take SOOOOO long in the bathroom in the morning? Can't they just do their business and get out like normal people and by normal I mean women.

Seriously, The Dude monopolizes the downstairs bathroom for at LEAST 10 minutes in the morning. Normally this wasn't a problem as his little ritual was done before the kids wake up. Now that business has slowed a bit, he's going into work an hour later in the mornings creating a bathroom traffic jam.

We have one bathroom downstairs, ONE. This morning he strolled into the bathroom, locking the door behind him I don't know about you, but as a Mom it's been a LOOOONG time since I got to lock a bathroom door. No sooner does the door close does Pickles come running around the corner squealing about having to potty. Had the door not been locked I would have simply yanked the potty chair out into the hall and let him do his thing. But no, locked. He bangs on the door for Daddy to "Open up!!" and I quietly scoop him up and tell him we have to run upstairs. Sadly, he cannot hold it. Great. It's not even 7am and I've been peed on. Not to mention my coffee is sitting in her cup, rather lonely on the kitchen table, getting colder by the second.

I clean up Pickles and head back downstairs. Just as I reach for my dear friend coffee, Twin B comes tearing around the corner squealing about having to potty. She begins banging on the bathroom door, yelling at The Dude. Just as I reach down for her, HE starts yelling back! What the hell? Ummm, no. Do not yell at the not quite 4 yr old because she has to use the bathroom and you're STILL occupying it.

I try explaining to her that we can go upstairs, but she ain't havin' it. She continues to yell. The Dude continues to yell. Enter Twin A. Now the three of 'em are yelling. Twin B is yelling at The Dude, The Dude is yelling at Twin B, and Twin A chimes in with a "Don't yell at my sister!"

I drop my face in my hands (which are filled with clothing that has yet to be put on the screaming banshees) as I realize that this is going to be a very long morning.

I dream of one day relaxing on the couch with a HOT cup of coffee in the morning, like this bitch: