Dear Darla Diaries

it burns!!! oh man it burns!!!!

Dear Darla. Why are you such a retarded cook? Why can't you stick to mac-n-cheese or ramen like the rest of the lazy people? - Alfalfa

I'm a groupie. I have to confess it, because I love to confess things on this blog. I've fallen in love with Pioneer Woman's cooking. She has a blog chock full of delicious yummy  simple recipes for things like tiramisu, sinful cake, bread pudding, brisket and cream cheese-bacon-jalapeno bites that always leave my taste buds tingling from the imagines alone. Not necessarily new foods but simple takes on complicated recipes that make a country girl like me very happy.

As is my sometimes habit, I like to cook from scratch, not just from a box mix. I caved tonight and decided I had to attempt to cook and try her blog's stuffed jalapeno bites before Shaun gets back in two weeks. I bought soft cream cheese, jalapenos and bacon from Safeway and headed home with the hopes that these little tidbits along with fresh cantaloupe, watermelon and perhaps a side salad would satisfy my hunger monster. I hadn't planned on singe-ing the flavor tasters on my lips and tongue. My thought was that the cream cheese would calm the pepper bite and sweeten with the bacon flavor. Unfortunately, my brain neglected to remind my mouth that the hottest part of the little green bastard is not the veggie but it's juices.

To start off the cooking I followed the recipe by cutting the peppers in half and scraping out the guts. Then I stuffed them with cream cheese, wrapped a bit of bacon around the mix and popped them in the 350 degree oven for 25 minutes. The sweet spicy flavored filled the living room and teased both owner and puppy alike. I was thinking sweet spicy chili sauce not texas chili pepper hot. As I chewed into my first pepper I instantly realized my mistake as the sweet hot juices squirted down my throat searing the edges of my lips, tongue, palate and sinuses. And since I'm a glutton for punishment I had to try another ... and another ... and another. Screaming, panting, gulping lemonade and dabbing my face with a towel time and again. No amount of patting, washing, scrubbing or drinking is soothing the burn. Some foods are just worth the pain.

The only downfall with this dish isn't even the hot spicy decadent side effects. It's the fact that I may get to sleep in my contacts instead of trying to sear my corneas with my juice infested finger pads. This really truly sucks because my brain refuses to shut down if I can see. The only exception to that rule ever is camping, road trips or emergencies and even then it's extremely difficult. The nights I sleep in my contacts I tend to wake up feeling like a character from a zombie movie as my eyes are crusted wide open and I can barely move my eyelids. Seared corneas or sand gritty exhausted corneas. The heavy decisions I make each night.

the warmth came to steal my joy

Gosh the weather makes me an irrational and cranky peevish cow. My husband is buried under a pile of educational and military mayhem that's part of his training and all I want to do is throw catty comments and pick on loose arguments that don't exist. Why can't I just let it go? Let him enjoy his last few weeks in Missouri and get it through? Why is it so much easier to just pick, pick, pick?

I hate that the weather sucks the energy from me as well. I can't think to focus. All I want to do is pluck out my leg hairs one by one to distract me from the heated lethargy. It just slowly leaks my ability to think or respond in a cohesive manner. My friends are developing pregnancies and ugly diseases and moving and weddings and I feel horrible because I can't even think enough to call or email or check on them. It's driving me mad. Mad enough to once again be blogging instead of running numbers or paying bills or caring for my pup. I think I would have made a horrible Israelite wandering around the desert for 40 years. I probably wouldn't have stopped with bitching about the manna but carried on about the sand and wind and obnoxious fellow wayfarers.

Than the train leaves the track as my brain wanders a bit more. The overly loud whirring of the fan is grating out my nerves and drowning out "A Painted Veil." With that I must stop typing and look into the finances.

wands, Muggles and a thick tome

I let the ever boisterous Bemily infect me with her Potter Mania on Friday. So, after some Chili's grub and the funny "I now pronounce you Chuck and Larry" we settled in with the wand waving, cape wearing Muggles weaving and bobbing through the Northtown Mall's Barnes and Noble.

On a fluke I managed to snag one of the only 20 extra copies of the Deathly Hallows at that location and competition was fierce. The night sales at that store was by reserve copy only. When we arrived we had to restrain ourselves from smacking a few near-hysterical shoppers standing in line early for the night's festivities because they hadn't pre-registered. Signs are posted everywhere! If you can read HP surely you can read posted signs.

At 9 p.m. we still had a three hour wait until the 12:01a distribution. Since lines couldn't be formed many of us hunkered down in the store aisles bantering discussions about how the actors aging would or wouldn't affect the movies and who may or may not die in the book. I kept teasing that I was going to start rumors that either Hagrid died in a tragic fashion or Ron and Hermoine croaked to Emily's utter shock and horror. "Don't make the little kids cry!" She's so cute and I am just so obnoxous!

48 hours and 800 pages later I'm inches away from finding out what the big book secret is. I'd keep you posted but no one likes a kill joy.

boys. can't live with them. can't throw enough rocks at them.

Why can a decision, like taking a dog to the vet, be so complicated? Is it because I dared to ask my husband's opinion or the fact that we've never had a kid to have opinions about before?

While I was in Missouri last weekend our rottweiler was chilling with the neighbor's black german shepards. The three of them getting along fairly well, most of the time. This weekend's new yard factor was a wading pool. Naturally someone had a dominence hormone imbalance and a fight broke out. After getting beat by their owner my dog wasn't too bad looking ... initially. (He beat them for attacking her, than spoiled her because he would love to adopt her.)

Today, after Justin, (attack dog owner and neighbor), snipped her with hair clippers and I attacked her with scissors to clear the wounded area, she resembles a bit of a war victim. Now the wound, a few days after the brawl, looks a little worse than first impression. Not fatal, but ugly and scabbed and all sorts of things that could make the light hearted squeamish, and possibly needing medical attention. (Precaution and prevention.)

Ironically I'm not mad at the dog or owner. It was totally a territorial thing ... that's the only time they get all bitchy. All three of them. He's also totally volunteered to foot the bill and possibly take her to the vet. Can't turn that down.

The problem isn't in the wound but the wound care complications. I have this little obnoxious habit of asking too many people their opinions when making up my decision. Though this habit has gotten better in Shaun's absence it still can be a hindrance. So, in typical me fashion, I naturally had to call my husband and my favorite resident vet - his mother for their medical opinions. Justin is of the mind that I should take her to the vet if I want and he'll cover all the costs. Shaun's mom is concerned if her skin was punctured than I should definitely take her in. However, if it's not punctured some benadine, betadine, something b-dine may do the trick. Shaun is positive that his dog's just FINE. As if it's a statement based on the fact that dogs tussle and heal naturally all the time. He's also telepathic and just KNOWS this since he doesn't have x-ray vision to see through the phone with. Granted he says she's fine now but if he comes back in three weeks and she's out of commission he will be PISSED. Also a statement. Not a question. It's not like he's eating the stupid vet costs.

It's all so frustrating and complicated. This morning I wasn't sure on the severity but Justin had planned to take her to the base vet. Than the base vet wasn't available and with the distraction of him moving in the near future, he decided to stall and see what I thought. Than all the opinions started popping up between Shaun and I and I just want to scream.

This isn't a hard decision. Dog gets mauled. Owner wants to pay. Take the dog to the vet. Enough said.  Unless your husband thinks you are over exaggerating. He, the man that can turn the hint of a possible sinus headache and sniffle into full blown strep and bronchitis. And he's an expert at coercing the doctors to medicate and support his tom-foolery. But she is my baby and as such I want to take care of her. Ga! The decisions are killing me! Sometimes I hate my overcautious thinking nature! And it confuses me when the neighbor guy who sees the dog seems to have more input than the man who OWNS the dog. If I'm calling to bounce opinions off you I would like a little more opinion than "uh-huh" ... "ok". I can and do make constant decisions without you but this is your pup darling. I'd love an overly passionate: "Please take care of her!"

So soon it will all be over. Three more weekends and we can have silly fights over sillier topics in person. So instead of hanging up on each other we can have crazy makeup sex! And I know that you, my dear reader, really wanted to know that.

Recovery and Reality playing tag in the park

The worst part of vacation is the recovery time. For example, you can spend 12 hours in airplane and/or airplane terminals and yet not be exhausted because you ride the high of "finally there!" all the way to the hotel. You can also get very little sleep for 72 hours and be fine because you are finally "with him!". And of course, to cap off the trip, you can even survive on about two hours of sleep before driving to the airport and playing airport tag for another 8 hours on the return bout.

Than you get home. Just to discover you are an utterly useless nagging walking zombie of a person battling the wretched heat in a non-air-conditioned duplex. The heat is chasing Satisfaction and Joy you encountered on your trip right out of you and Exhaustion just won't shut the hell up.

You don't know whether to sleep and stuff stuff a big pillow down Exhaustion's throat or parlay the sleep until say, 8 p.m., thus ensuring you actually get semi-rested before returning to the workplace Tuesday. Where you know it will require all the necessary rest possible just to survive without forming a tryst between Immediate Quitter and Running Away. (They are fabulously friendly and absurdedly poor individuals with great influence on the weak and tired minded.) (See they already sabotaged my typing and sentence structure ability! Spell checker be damned on this one.)

So than as you sit in a melted puddle on the living room floor blogging, because you are already a walking mess of nonsense, you debate the lunacy of communicating with people via the phone or internet because you are either (a) not making a bit of sense because Intelligence has taken Brain on date without your consent and (b) Waspish and Bitter are acting up for more than at all necessary and (c) you just had your "can play with others" day pass revoked.

Question: Is is really a good idea to escort yourself to the store to pick up milk and food or should you satisfy Irritation with a long cool bath and some more television? I'm pretty sure my decision making pass was also revoked for the night. Any takers?

never thought i'd be thankfulf or wal-mart

Do we really value the usefulness of our memory to grasp on to the oddest facts at the oddest moments? Sure there are times when we couldn't care less, I consider those my "random" moments. For instance when I'm talking to my husband on the phone and I'm flitting from subject to subject like a moth to flame.

So honey did you hear that Nicole Richey was pregnant? I mean I know you couldn't give a rats ass but I mean honey, if that anorexic twig could get pregnant than, why not a girl like me who's been craving it for the past 6 years? And did I tell you I bought a tent for our pup? Yea, like a real pup tent! Oh and Beck and Larry have a bunny named Jello. It's cute, fuzzy and white. Kind of like a bunny.

Than there are those "cover your ass" kind of moments. For instance I still remember when we I was around 9 or 10-years-old when the neighbor Thor's mom banged on our front door. My mom spots me out of the corner of my eye and beckons me into the ongoing conversation with Thor's mom:

Mom: So Gin did your sister, in fact, hit Thor?
Gin: Not exactly mom. She picked up the top of the swing set and slugged him with it!
Mom: And why did she do that?
Gin: He hit his sister with his two-by-four and you know how we've been raised not to pick on girls!

This morning was one of those moments that my random memory bits kept me from hysteria. As I drove through the twisty dark highway 44E in Missouri between Waynesville and Springfield I had begun to panic. The first set of signs showing I was near the city said things like "Springfield, next 6 exits." OK, I thought to myself, that shouldn't be too difficult. Than the first six exits came and webt and not a one even had a mention of the regional airport. When I landed Friday night it was also in utter blackness so I was having difficulty relying on things like landmarks when the trees in the early dawn didn't match the shadows of the midnight blackness. As I was lost in thought a sign loomed out of the roadside that had me thanking the Lord for my random thinking. It said "Eastern Bible College" and behind it loomed the Wal-mart Supercenter. In a flash I realized that the exit had to have been a good couple miles beyond that point because I remembered the panic I had Friday with the new rental car, roads and state and how the fact that Wal-Mart truly is EVERYWHERE struck me as a little funny.

So here I sit in the empty terminal glad to be out of the hotel and just waiting on a jet plane to take me home.

why even bother

Random quotes from today ..

It started by 8 am: " Hey Darla your hair's growing! Your scalp isn't nearly as shiny and obvious as a week ago! " (The next three male job applicants all had longer hair cuts in a similar style to my own.)

Around noon I started to realize why it had been a long day when I was told: " We don't really NEED the employees to  fix these documents, why don't you just  fill in the boxes above their  signatures."  (There's a reason I fondly refer to it as "Enron".)

Then, while madly dashing from TJ Maxx to Old Navy in the scorching 102* weather, after work: "Do you think they have a bar in Old Navy? With those fun little umbrella drinks?"

Once again, blogging proves to be an easier distraction than getting sleep or packing for that four day trip, less than eight hours away.

ebay you evil temptuous witch

Instead of packing I let myself slog through the muck and mire of iPod listings on half.com and eBay for the first time. I've generally avoided eBay because up until recently we didn't have a home computer worth browsing the internet on, let alone the time to barter. The majority of my purchases have been limited to Craigslist, Amazon.com and the powermax.com store. (God bless them both!) My wallet has only been all the lighter because of it.

I've been craving an iPod for the upcoming Missouri trip, my semi-daily dog walk around the base, and the ever-so-joyous near hour commute. I may be headed to Crazytown but I'd like the right tunes to carry me there. For some reason I've never broken down and bought one. It probably had to do with the incompatibility with our dinasour relic of a compaq presario. Remember those? One step DOWN from the commadore64. She was a beaut. When the apartment flooded and she took on 12 inches of water my husband had to admit to our helpers that it just saved him from 'death-by-bat.' The computer I mean, not the boy.

So I sit and let eBay tempt me. $40, $50, $100 and climbing. Tempting me with the iPod that I really don't have money for. The fundage needs spent on yummy food, fast Dodge Charger rental car, air conditioned hotel rooms and movie tickets for the Harry Potter premiere weekend. Yet I still furtively itch to toss a bet out here and there, in hopes of acquiring the perfect new "used" music player. What's really sad is there's no way in hell it will get here before my flight leaves Friday morning.

reminder to shoppers: don't just shop green, bag it

"We are dumping so much carbon dioxide into the Earth's environment that we have literally changed the relationship between the Earth and the Sun." - Al Gore

I have to be honest. I stumbled into the "SOS - Live Earth" concert series today because I love music, especially the televised live concert thing. Award shows especially attract me like a fly to honey. It's just so sweet and tantalizing. Anyhow, so I wish I could say that I started watching the show because of the "save the earth, slow the global warming" theme, but just not the case.

Let's face it, green is better. That I won't deny. However, my big contributions are limited to things like only have one light on in the house right now and I generally try to only water the yard for an hour at a time and not all day like many of my neighborhood folk. I also eat food that requires minimal preparation, but again that's out of laziness and not a deliberate effort to conserve the world.

This show got me thinking. What is one thing that I could do or perhaps push to promote on base to help with this cause, besides the well televised issues like reusing plastic water bottles and special energy efficient light bulbs? I think I would recommend more earth friendly grocery sacks or a recycling system. Tons and tons of military personnel shop in bulk at the base commissary's or grocery stores for you non-military folk, daily. The posted signs try and promote paper sack usage because of the increased COST of plastic. So instead of sending out two dozen-plus double lined plastic bags with each customer they send out two dozen paper bags. Per person. Per day. That's a lot of product waste.

My solution? I would suggest a credit system, where cents per bag are given to shoppers who return empty gently used bags to the store, similar to bottle and can deposit. There could also be a credit given to shoppers who bring their own plastic or paper bags from home to use instead of new store issued ones.  So credit to return or reuse. The third option, already in use by stores such as Trader Joe's, Huckleberries and Albertson's , would be to offer the reusable cloth/hemp like store bags that can be purchased at a minimal fee and used in place of plastic/paper. Three different ways to do the same thing: reduce, reuse and recycle at the supermarket.

A good product of the concert was that I've also been inspired to make myself a "green" purse, backpack or bag by crocheting together plastic bags like this instead of cheap polyester yarn or remnants. I hope to not procrastinate on this one.

"If the truth is unwelcome, it may seem easier just to ignore it." - Al Gore

summer cool down

dear darla. how do you cool down for the summer? alfalfa

First off I recommend long cool swigs of the Spire's crisp Pear Cider. Big gooey yum! I tasted it at the Elk Public House in Spokane Tuesday night. This will be my new best friend once I find it at the local Huckleberries. I'm told it's on the South Hill but to tell you the truth I still need to figure out what exactly encompasses the South Hill from the North Hill.

My second fun way to keep cool is to buy your pup a tent! A PUP TENT! Get it?! Ha. Well the reality is I have to save my cash for next weekend's big trip to Missouri where the husband and I get to get it on. All weekend long! In the shower, hanging out at the pool and all over our room .... mmmm ... I'm so distractable! And now that I have you barfing I'll explain why my pup needed a tent. Sue is getting almost 9-years-old and from what I hear she's actually right on track for her age. This means her hips are giving her a little trouble and everything she oozes out of her igloo I cringe. Yet the 100 degree weather has prevented me from just chucking it because she needs shade! So I had a funny conversation via the phone as I was wandering through the store and decided last minute to pick up a big roomy, yet affordable house for her! Thus the pup, tent.

I was very ecstatic when my baby kept lolling around in her wide comfortable space. I even left her gate wide open and instead of running to the the house she just relaxed in her tent. Good Sue!!

Moving on. The third and main thing centered squarely at the back of my mind at all times is the upcoming mini VACATION. It's all about the husband and the Missouri and the flight and the rental car and ... and ... and ... naturally the sex and my husband's killer hands giving me a long neglected achingly good back massage. This is allows me to think through the heat and humidity and 12 hour work days with long commutes..

Get your mind out of the gutter! I know you're still mentally seeing us doing the naughty and it's freaking you out! Granted it was my fault for mentioning it, but still!