Currently Eating...

Zapp's Voodoo potato chips "Original Cajun Kettle Recipe"

Think: sour cream and onion x .5barbeque x 2lemon x witch's brew melt-your-lips = voodoo flavored

The "limited edition" story on the back tells me that some moron dropped five loads of spices on the floor then some other idiot stuck his dirty fingers in it, licked 'em and declared the spice mix voodoolicious! Clearly a marketing team of 100 spent a couple years perfecting this sour creamy oniony bbq-y lemony monster. Furthermore, this "limited" edition has been on the shelves for over a year. Great pitch.

Anyways, I'm eating the darn things even though I'm not too fond of chips in general. They're leftovers from the floating/impromptu camping trip a couple weeks ago and there's not much else on the shelves since Chainsaw and I are leaving in a few days for Michigan.

PS: In this picture the chips are voodoo welding to my lips. It burns!

Brats, Sunny Skies and Swimming

As I try to foster ideas on a theme and create some kind of schedule, I'm going to try a Love/Hate Sunday blog. The topic may be a love-love (pinatas!), hate-hate (bad grammar!), love-hate (whiskey?) or off-the-wall shit like phone receivers or miso paste.

Today I kinda hate kids. More appropriately I kinda hate their irresponsible (or invisible) parents. A child should be taught to be polite, respectful and have good manners. When an adult addresses a child, s/he should stop, listen and respond. Don't interrupt. Don't be a brat. Furthermore, parents should lead by example and I see a lot of rude obnoxious adults raising the next generation of the like.

Today I love the weather. The forecast for NOLA this week is: Mon-92 Tue-91 Wed-92 Thu-92 Fri-91 Sat-93 Sun-92. Suck it, Michigan.

Today I love/hate swimming. Bullshit, I love/love it. I started up a summer membership at Tulane and it's off the chain. I always get a whole lane to myself. I'm already swimming sets of 20 laps with ease feeling like a bad ass. I have visions of flat tummy and toned arms dancing in my head. The post-workout sauna knocks my socks off. Only thing is I'm damn tired this week. I'll get over it, off the the pool!

Currently Reading

I'm usually not big on celebrity authorship, excluding Jon Stewart's America and Steven Colbert's I Am America (and So Can You!) I find celebrity authorship akin to Gwenyth Paltrow coming out with a new single or 50 Cent starring in a movie. Just because you're famous at one thing doesn't mean you are qualified to find fame in any old media medium. Take some advice from that famous basketball player who tried his hand at baseball (it's Michael Jordan. Thank you google.)

However, being the Tina Fey fan that I am (Yeah, 30 Rock!) I picked up Tina Fey's current NYTimes Hardcover Nonfiction bestseller Bossypants. I could not put it down - I read the first 150 pages in the first sitting. The book is laugh-out-loud funny - literally. She touches on so many feminist issues near and dear to my heart - body image ideals, women in business inequalities, gay rights - and all in hilarious and clever ways, while still conveying the seriousness of the issues.

It's worth every penny for the hardcover and Barnes and Noble is selling it for 30% off right now. I don't think it's something I'll ever re-read entirely, but I've already picked it up to re-read certain sections and laugh all over again.

Herb Garden

So much for a post a day! I think four posts per week is a smart goal. I wrote a post about the reasons I avoid Bourbon Street but didn't save it correctly so more on that later.

There's a mini herb garden on my balcony! To the naysayer who tried to tell me our balcony is not an ideal spot for growing, I say ha! All the plants are growing and not dead so it's coming along great! I have sweet basil, flat Italian parsley, Greek oregano and rosemary. Yesterday, I plucked some oregano to compliment a salad and it was awesome. I felt like a real Suzie Homemaker.

I have visions of having a huge backyard garden some day with a couple of big dogs and a chicken coop. When future-me is all decked out in a sweet gardening hat and gloves with soil on my knees and cheeks (why is there dirt on my cheeks? Who knows, but I will clearly have dirty cheeks) I will look back fondly to my humble beginnings with a planter and a cup of water on my New Orleans balcony.

xoxox, my green thumb.

Back on Track!

I started this blog one year ago and never committed myself to it. About 6 months ago I tried to get into tumblr but I just don't dig it. So, I'm picking www.adagiostaccato.blogspot.com back up and will write daily entries and trust that a theme will emerge after a period of time. I plan on blogging about what's going on in my life in New Orleans: work, school, play, fun, friends, challenges, aspirations, endeavors, experiences, tips. Book and author reviews, craft projects and progress, and recipes will be covered as well. Pictures will be included in (almost) every post and I'll post a video blog weekly. The goal is to practice writing, keep a diary-like record of what's going on in my 27th year and keep in touch with my friends and family.

Here we go!

Jesus vs. Dinosaurs

At work today, our in-house carpenter hung and leveled a portrait with only the tools of a hammer, a nail and his eye. I was impressed. Ironically, it took me three tries to hang and level my college diploma. I remarked it was a mark of the true carpenter to level by eye to which he replied "Just like Jesus" and I smiled and repeated "Just like Jesus" without a hint of sarcasm.

Thus, I invoked a conversation about religion which began as follows:

- I was listening to the radio the other day. It was some station where's they was talking about religion and I started thinking: What about the dinosaurs? You know, the dinosaurs were around like millions of years ago and Jesus was around only 2000 years ago!
Another like-minded body enters the room and bobbles her head fervently. I pray for an interruption to excuse myself from the dogmatic discussion.
-I just don't get how someone can question the existence of Jesus but we got people findin' dinosaur bones and little pieces of "here! look at this dino bit" ya know? But people still question heaven.
The phone rings. Hallelujah.
-And why would you want to go through life thinking that when you die, you're just going into a hole in the ground? When you're sixty you're gonna be thinking "well, I got 20 years left till I become worm food" instead of looking forward to the golden gates.
The nodding bobble-head is in her sixties. I feel bad for her.

I was saved by the phone from partaking in a conversation with coworkers on the existence of Jesus vs dinosaurs. There is a god.

Sleepless in NOLA

Are you a tosser and a turner? A nighttime mover and a shaker? Are you a deeply dozing sound sleeper? Do you jolt up at every little noise or dream?

I've always been a sound sleeper. Within moments of lying down and closing my eyes I turn myself off to the conscious world and surrender to deep, deep sleep. My dad says I could fall asleep in a phone booth. I've never tried it but I'm sure he's right.

Lately my mind reels as I lay me down to sleep. Will I lose 5 pounds before Shanelle's wedding? I should start running. How much are running shoes nowadays? Am I making enough money? I should go back to school. I can't wait to own my own bookstore! Are e-books taking over? I need to write more often. Will I ever be a grandmother? Should I have not gotten those back x-rays last year? What is John Travolta doing right now? Does God exist?

An hour or two later I finally doze off as visions of shoes and John Travolta dance through my head. (What are you doing in my head, John Travolta!) An hour or so later I am woken up by a nightmare about alligators the size of insects. Or insects that look like alligators, what have you. Or maybe I'm awaken by my partner drunkenly banging his way into the apartment. Or perhaps some jolly guests bellowing "When the Saints Go Marching In" at the hotel next door. I sandwich my head between my pillow and count sheep for around for another thirty minutes while desperately trying NOT to think about alligators, insects or John Travolta. I make it back to sleep just to be awaken one hour later by another crazy dream about giant squids or tree people. Three hours later, a woman's screams of exaggerated ecstasy from the hotel pull me from sleep yet again. Moments or hours later I startle out of sleep again to a clatter next to the bed. The closet door is rattling and I'm sure it's tree person or an alligator. Come to find out, it's just a paperback of For Whom the Bell Tolls that fell off the bed. At least it's Robert Jordan who keeps me up this time instead of John Travolta. But I do wish that damn bell would stop tolling so I can get some shut eye.