Skip to content

Tex Commando

I'm not angry, just outspoken

Tag Archives: Food

My hope is that I’ll get it all out of the way in advance of her arrival. That might not happen, though. What might end up happening is that momentum thing that I talked about a few months ago. Maybe I’ll get rolling talking about my Ladyfriend Lovergirl and not be able to stop. Oh well, that’s a risk I’m willing to take.

#2 is a realization I had back in February. It caused a minor mental crisis until my oh-so-candid friends talked me down off the ledge. Now, after having realization #1, this one is in my mind once again. Are you tired of all the lead-up to my crazy thoughts? Welcome to my head.

I’m going to get to see and talk to best friend in the whole wide world whom I love spending time with and we will be living in the same house and I’ll get to see her WHENEVER I WANT!!!

This is a good thing! I can honestly say that there has never been a time that I haven’t loved spending time with Brandi. (Well, there was that one time at the park when our kids were little, but that doesn’t count.) There is never a dull moment when we are together. Now, with love involved, our moments are even better.

Are you wondering where the need to talk me down off the freak out ledge comes in?

I have other friends too. I do fun, impromptu things with them on the days there are no children at home with me. Things like drunk knitting with my Wednesday ladies. Or sushi. Or inviting myself over to a friend’s house when she tells me she is cooking latkes. Or a day trip to go yarn shopping (don’t laugh at me, I love this kinda thing) Still don’t see the problem?

Am I going to keep doing that? Of course I won’t always just run off with my friends. I will have a relationship to maintain. The problem is that I don’t see myself doing anything but staying home with Brandi. I see myself always choosing to spend time with her. I see the potential to get completely wrapped up in Brandi and losing Tex.

This has everything to do with how intense my feelings for her are. I’m sure the fact that we have always lived so far away from each other and only saw each other once or twice a year for so many years has something to do with it too. I know the ‘honeymoon’ will end. Eventually we will get used to being able to see and talk to each other IN PERSON. EVERYDAY. Life will become normal. The intensity will wane.

But I don’t want it to.

So, promise me something. Will you?

Promise me that if I don’t hang out with you for awhile you won’t be mad at me. Promise me that you will keep trying to include me in things even if I say no for a few months. Promise me that you will tell me if I am neglecting you. Also, promise me that you won’t think it’s weird if Brandi hangs out with us too. She’s an excellent person. You’ll love her. AND?! She doesn’t drink. I have my own built-in DD.

OK, that’s it. Today I get the keys to our place. I can’t wait!!!

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

I did a good job with yoga for the first two weeks of the month, then my kids had two weeks of early dismissals, holidays, days off school, yadda yadda yadda. They threw my shit off. It’s them, not me. Today is the first full day I have to clean my house, have conversations with myself and do laundry in forever. As much as I want to to sweat my ass off, I can’t do it. I need to be home. I have Mr. T trying to get me to meet him for lunch. Damn! Does it ever end?

I’m just kidding about the lunch thing. I like to go out for lunch. I prefer to have lunch out. I usually don’t eat lunch unless I get it out somewhere. The only thing about meeting him for lunch is that it’s a 30 minute drive to where he is, then we have to decide where to eat. Then it’s 30 minutes back home. I already committed to picking up a kid from school, so now my whole afternoon is messed up.

The things I do for love.

Oh, I am starting a new job Tuesday. I’ll be working at my yarn store two days a week. I’m pretty excited about that. Until the next thing comes along. Why is that? I’m like a little kid who sees all of the toys in the store and just HAS to have a specific one. Only when I get the toy, it’s just a countdown until I lose interest in that particular toy and NEED another, shinier, more exciting toy. How can I be better about that?

I haven’t cooked any more Indian food. So much for that idea.

Speaking of food, Mr. T and I get to have dinner with Lori and Jason at one of my favorite lunch date restaurants. I am hoping it’s freezing cold when I leave to meet Mr. T, because I am planning on wearing the mittens I just made. I’m giving them to Lori, so she can keep her new fingers warm. I really need to quality test them before I give them to her.

I guess that’s it for now. How is YOUR January going?

Tags: , , , , ,

I’m not usually the kind of person who does a lot of categorizing and listing. I also don’t do resolutions. Since it’s  a new year and all I thought, “Fuckit. I’ll do both and check in weekly.”

I know you mofos are already tuning out and picking at your nails. I know that my follow-through sucks. I know. I’m hanging my head in shame. But this time it’s going to be different. (That’s what HE said.)

So, here are some of my resolutions or goals or desires or hopes or whatever the hell you want to call it.

  1. Get myself out there more. To me, this means to expand my circle beyond the one or two friends I communicate with. I have become somewhat of a recluse over the past few months. It’s pretty depressing, and I am tired of it. I need more friends.
  2. Make myself do things even if I don’t want to. Refer to the top. I am a bit depressed. As a result, I haven’t had much (any) motivation to do anything extra. Like the things I love to do. Like cook. And exercise. And socialize. I need to make myself do these things. I know I will be happier if I just get off my ass.
  3. Challenge my creativity. This year, I plan to take it to the next level. You all know I knit, but this time I’m going to knit something difficult and beautiful. No more scarves and mittens. I used to cook all the time. I was passionate about food. It’s time to get some of that fire back into my belly. And, something different. I don’t know what it will be, but I will do something else. I have always wanted to learn how to throw pottery. I might try that.
  4. Have more orgasms. You know how it is with depression- lack of interest in sex. Not only do I have little or no interest in sex with my sexy husband, I don’t even want to have sex with myself. Lame. That’s going to change.

Wish me luck. I’ll get back to you mofos in a week with what I did on the list.

What are YOUR resolutions/goals/desires/hopes for the upcoming year?

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

I like tradition. I also like change. I’m not the kind of person who has to have the same things in the same order in the same way with the same people on the same dishes using the same recipes cooked the same way every year for the holidays. I like a big meal for TG. It just doesn’t have to be a ‘traditional’ meal. Get it?

For ten years, I had the ‘traditional’ meal. There were a few things added in over the years as I discovered new recipes, but nothing was EVER taken out. Everyone had their favorite thing, and no one could be disappointed. The food was good, of course, but it was always the same. I always lobbied for something different, something out of the ordinary, something interesting. I almost always got shot the fuck down. So, it was a bittersweet victory when I stopped going to West Virginia for TG and didn’t have to cook what everyone else insisted on.

I love the idea of eating Mexican or Chinese for TG dinner. Shit! Pizza would be a fun idea too. My family always rebels at this idea. I practically get tied up and beaten whenever I mention this. So, this year, I tucked my tail between my legs, put my head down, and cooked a delicious traditional meal using my usual delicious recipes. I left two of my least favorite things out of the equation- sweet potato balls, and banana pudding. Read the recipe and use your brain to figure out why I didn’t want to make those damned things AGAIN. And the banana pudding, well, it’s just been done over and over and over again. It’s so overdone, that it isn’t even appealing anymore.

So this afternoon, while I was in my fourth hour of cooking, everyone had something to say about having Chinese food for dinner. As in- they all wanted that instead of turkey and stuffing. Whaaaat!? They all looked at me like it was my fault that we had turkey for TG. Really? Because every time I mention doing something different, everyone screams bloody murder. And now they want something different? Fuck that!

BUT!!!!! They gave me shit because I didn’t make the sweet potato shit balls and the banana pudding. So, not only did they not want turkey and wanted Chinese, but since they had turkey, they felt cheated out of the full thing because they didn’t have those other two disgusting dishes. It was all I could do to tell them to go to West Virginia next year and eat that shit there. I didn’t have to, because Patricia read my mind and suggested to Trystan that they save their money and go there next year. Asshole.

Those little fuckers have some nerve. They really have no idea. Maybe it’s my ego. I will concede that perhaps my ego has a part in the reason I have not tried to make amends. But, relationships go both ways, and no effort has been made on the other side either.

The kids think they’re being funny by saying that “It’s just not Thanksgiving without Them.” It’s not funny. It’s hurtful. I’ll talk to them about it later when they are done acting like assholes long enough to actually have a serious conversation. For now, I’m going to drown my feelings in pecan pie, apple pie, and pumpkin tarts.

Tags: , , , , , , ,

– business partner. Although I have great ideas, I also have shitty follow-through. I get distracted, sidetracked, somewhat overwhelmed, and ultimately lose interest and fail. I suck, pretty much. It’s not harsh, just true.

– acquaintance. Especially on Facebook. Especially if you constantly brag about going out to dinner at such ‘fancy’ restaurants such as Red Lobster and The Olive Garden. I’m fuckin’ judging your non-taste-havin’ ass. I mean, if you want to spend too much money on shitty food, just send it my way, and I’ll cook you shitty food and charge you way too much money. There is so much good food in the world to waste your time on those shitty-ass chain restaurants. (I’ve been wanting to say that for a long time)

– parent. I’m still figuring out why I had another kid. And another one. And another one. I know one. why I had the first kid. It was called- no condom. I guess that’s why all four happened. But DAMN!! I’m not sure I’m cut out for this shit. Only 13 more years to go? UGH!

– parent of a 13-year old boy. Since we have the lucky number 13 on our minds, please allow me to be completely candid. (Tex is nothing if not candid) My son was gone all summer. For the entire month of July, it was me and my girls. We had a fucking fun-ass time. I actually enjoyed the summer this year. Notice that I hardly blogged? It was because I was too busy swimming, crafting, cooking, shopping, playing with my girls. I loved being home and spending QT with my family. Then my son came home. And all shit broke loose. I can’t even stand to talk to him. Why must he argue with me about everything? I can somewhat understand why he would feel the need to argue if he asks me a question and I give him a “no” answer, but when I tell him “yes” and he argues?!?! WTF? It’s exhausting. And I don’t like him very much right now. Is this normal? Please tell me it’s just a phase.

– housekeeper. I haven’t really cleaned my house all summer. Why bother? It’s not like my kids appreciate a clean house enough to pick up after themselves. Why should I clean it just to have them come around and  mess it up AGAIN? Naaah, I’ll wait until next week to clean my house. WHEN THEY’RE ALL IN SCHOOL AGAIN!!!

– moral compass. No further explanation is necessary.

Have a great Monday mofos!

Tags: ,

I usually suck at giving presents. Unless they’re for myself. Then I do quite the opposite- not suck.

Mr. T usually gets the suck end of the stick for his birthday because it’s just a few weeks before Father’s Day. For some reason, I can never get my shit together. It’s a good thing I’m good in the sack.

This year, I actually had a little wad of money at the time of Mr. T’s birthday. I wanted to buy him a bike so he could go bike riding with me.  As I was telling my eldest child what I was planning for her dad’s birthday, she ever-so-sensibly suggested that I get something that he wants. Ya know, because it’s his birthday and all.

What her dad has really wanted for a long time is BBQ classes. He loves to grill, but doesn’t have much knowledge beyond the basics. So, I put my perfect present for myself him on the backburner and searched  for and found the perfect birthday present for him: Bobby Flay’s ‘Grill It’ class at Sur La Table. He loved it, AND I had the perfect follow-on present for Father’s Day: a gift card to the awesome store he’d be at for his class.

But, I didn’t get the gift card. I forgot/got wrapped up in other things/spent the money/ forgot/ ran out of time/didn’t. I still have little bit of time to save up a more respectable amount of dinero for the gift card, so I scrapped that idea for now.

Instead, I baked some good shit for him last night. I made tiramisu again for the second time in my life and the second time in less than a month. AND I also baked an angel food cake with orange glaze and fresh whipped cream FROM SCRATCH. The kids and I made him a huge card from a ginormous poster board, and we ate those two desserts for breakfast.

The best part of it was last night while I was whipping up the eggs he told me that his grandma would make him an angel food cake every year for his birthday because angel food is his favorite. I was glad to give him his favorite cake.

Now, I’ll stop talking about how amazing I am, and tell you how great Mr. T is:

1. He is friendly.

2. He is kind.

3. He is thoughtful.

4. He is funny.

5. He is my best friend.

6. He is gorgeous.

7. He is a very good listener.

8. He is an awesome dad.

9. He is great in bed.

10. He is putting his life on the line right this moment while he teaches our soon-to-be 16 year old how to drive.

‘Nuff said.

 

Tags: , , , , ,

Haha. Just wanted to get your attention.

Actually, I really do think it’s mad at me. However, at the risk of putting Too Much Information out here for you mofos, I’m going to refrain from the rage against my vagina.

Instead, I’ll tell you about my quiche. Seriously, quiche. Do you people like quiche? I love it! I made one the other night, because I had tons of spinach that had about two more days left before it turned to slime. I also had some other veggies that needed to be used, so I decided to turn it into a quiche. Why don’t I make more of these things?!?

For real, why not? They’re super cheap to make. I always have the basic ingredients on hand- random fresh veggies, cheese, eggs, milk, flour, shortening, water, salt, pepper, other spices. All it takes is a little bit of time to make the pie crust and chop the veggies. Wednesday night’s quiche was perfect because the five year-old chopped the veggies, and the teenager made the pie crust. All I had to do was put it all together.

Since I didn’t have an actual recipe, I wasn’t sure how much it was going to make. I ended up getting two pies. Score! Did I mention that my kids WILL EAT VEGGIES-ANY VEGGIE IF IT’S COOKED IN PIE FORM?

They’re not the only ones who will eat anything cooked in a pie. Have you ever had a meat pie?

Tags: , , , , ,

Am I the only one who isn’t jumping on the coupon bandwagon? What the fuck? Like, come on people, coupons aren’t new. So, why are people acting like coupons are the next best thing? I’m so tired of people posting pictures on Facebook of all the shitty junk food they just bought with coupons for $2.50.

Why are you bragging that you just bought 6 bags of Oreos? That’s nothing to be proud about! Or 50 boxes of cereal?!? I get it- some of you people are Mormon, and you think it’s contributing to your food storage, but I have news for you: boxed cereal goes stale. And it tastes like shit when it’s stale. And you and your kids are going to get sick of it after the first 20 boxes, and they/you will refuse to eat it. EVER AGAIN.

Give me some goddamn coupons for fresh fruits and vegetables. That’s what I want. I spend almost half of my monthly food budget on that shit. I don’t need more frozen pizzas and pop tarts in my life. That kind of shopping just discourages me from cooking. And it discourages my health from being healthy.

I can’t wait until I get into my ‘forever house’. Then, I’ll have fruit trees and berry bushes all over the place. From spring to fall, I’ll have more fresh fruit than I can handle. I’ll be shitting blueberries and apples! I can’t wait.

I guess that’s just me. What do you mofos think?

Tags: , , , ,

Mutilated Butter

It could ONLY be worse if there were crumbs in it, and if you look closely at approximately 2 o’clock, you’ll see a neat collection of crumbs. Wasn’t that considerate of the culprit to confine his/her crumbs to such a small package? Notice that the rim is fairly clean? That’s only because I wiped around it in order to put the cover on. I must have lost at least two tablespoons around the rim. Needless to say, I have my own container/don’t use margarine.

That’s my major beef for the morning, but it did get me thinking about other things that burn my ass lately. Allow me to share:

When I go out of my way to cook breakfast for my kids -meaning that I got up early and dirtied the kitchen for them- and they piss and moan about how the toast is too crunchy, or the eggs don’t have enough cheese in them, or how there’s not enough blueberries in the pancakes, or how they didn’t want JUST banana muffins, but they wanted chocolate chips in the muffins too,  bitch, bitch, bitch. Isn’t it enough that I even thought about making them ANYTHING?!?! Why can’t they just recognize that I put myself out to make them something that they, in most cases, asked for? It’s not like I get up early and bake shit all of the time, so they shouldn’t be used to it. Little fuckers.

And since I’m talking about food- I must share a recent dinner experience. I don’t quite remember what I cooked, except that it was fairly involved. It required a considerable amount of ingredients and creativity. I put a lot of thought into the meal. My kids are used to eating good food, or they at least have been exposed to good food. Also, if my cooking tastes like shit, I’ll admit it. This meal wasn’t shitty. Immediately, the three youngest started to protest. Loudly. Rudely. It was as if I dug food out of the trash and plated it up and forced them to eat maggots. Those little assholes were so rude and inconsiderate. Not only was I pissed that they were calling my cooking gross when it wasn’t, but they went on and on whining about the fact that they had to even TASTE everything! I know I raised these asses better than that. What about being polite? Gracious? KEEPING YOUR FUCKING RUDE OPINIONS TO YOURSELF?!?!!

Things like that make me think that I am cooking for them too much, and need to dial it back to frozen pizzas and spaghetti. Maybe they’d appreciate a few fresh vegetables better if I did that. Naah, probably not.

There are more things, I’m sure. I can’t think of more that are really worth sharing. Well, I can actually think of more things, but the morning is wearing on, and I must get around to some laundry before it consumes me. Do you think if I drank wine all day, I’d be more effective or less effective at getting my shitty house cleaned today?

Tags: , , , ,

So, today was one of the most beautiful days so far this year. It was perfect bicycle riding weather. Not too hot, perfectly sunny, cool breeze. After I dropped my 5 year old off at school, I hopped on my bike and rode 7 miles to the gym. It was fantastic! I didn’t even fear for my life once during the ride. Usually, there’s some jackass car-driving bully who tries to run a bitch off the road. But none today.

I did a quick wardrobe change at the gym and attended my favorite class EVER. Step. I sweated and stepped and squatted and stepped and sweated and sweated and stepped and jumped and squatted for an hour. IT WAS GREAT!!!!

Except for the part where we had to run in place.

That part was fucking annoying and stupid and I hated it. Why? I’ll fucking tell you why: everything from my belly to my ass shook. Like goddamn jello. My ass jiggled, my thighs jiggled, my belly jiggled, even my back jiggled. MY BACK?!?!? Yes, my back jiggled. Maybe it was my love handles.

I don’t like to jiggle. I’m too soft. I hate it. I don’t want to jiggle.

Maybe you jiggle. I don’t judge you. I don’t care if YOU jiggle. Your body can do whatever the fuck it wants to do. It’s MY body that I care about. It’s MY body that I have to stuff into my clothes. And it doesn’t even matter what size they are- I’D STILL JIGGLE!!!

So, after I jiggled stepped, I hoisted myself onto  got on my bike, and rode the 7 or so miles back home.

It was pretty awesome. I felt like I accomplished something towards getting my jiggles to go away. It’ll take some time. Perhaps less beer and wine. And my sick, twisted brain is secretly wishing for a little stress to fuck with my digestive system so I can’t eat. Just a week. Or two. Just enough to lose a couple of pounds.

Awwww, shit. Exercising is better. I know. Don’t preach.

Tags: , , , ,