Take two thick slices of Noonie's day old bread, smear Honey Cup honey mustard
liberally over both. Cover both slices with green leaf lettuce. Then on one slice only lay smoked turkey on the lettuce,
a tomato slice on the turkey and sprinkle it with shredded carrot. Then on the lay a slice of provolone cheese over the
carrot then a green pepper ring on top of the cheese. Sprikle with sprouts. Cover with the other slice, lettuce side down.
The letuce should be stuck to the bread with honey mustard so it doesn't fall off when you turn it upside down to cover the
sandwich. Slice sandwich in half with a knife. Wrap in tightly in plastic wrap. Use too much wrap. Tape on label. Tadaaa!
Weighs one pound. Costs Four Bucks.
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Mood Swings and Budget Cuts
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Here's a link to the Fiscal Year 2008 Mayor's Budget Task Force Report. Read it over twice. There's going to be a test on it at the end of the day. Here's a link to a post about beavers and beaver traps where I get into it with Cathy Resmer about Seven Days's narcissistic 'letters to the editor' policy. Cathy often mentions how much she loves her job, which sends me into a vortex of ennui and self loathing every time. This has nothing to do with beavers or letters to the editor however.
The Bikram Yoga studio on Pine Street had a free open house on Saturday. I attended a 90 minute yoga steam class and it made me feel pretty good. I think yoga matches my personal philosophy and style pretty well. I hate material clutter. Yoga is just you and a simple mat. When I used to live alone my apartments were usually very neat and empty. My favorite way to decorate a room might be described as ultra-spartan. An empty room with a futon on the floor is pretty much my decorative preference. It's harder to live that way with a wife and kids.
And I don't like Christmas. To me it's essentially a big bill I have to pay. Maybe I can get some vicarious joy by trying to see it through the eyes of my son and daughter. I hate having to lie to them about Santa. I can tell Koko at four already senses the impossibility of the myth. When Poopsie told him that Santa stops at everyone's house on Christmas eve, he immediately asked how. This is probably his last year to buy into that bullshit. I stopped believing in Santa around five years old myself. There were about four billion people back then. I did the math.
Here's a link from Owen Mulligan about a horror movie he made. Or something. Always gotta add the 'or something.' Here's taboo question: Has Rachel Maddow already jumped the shark? She's rich and famous and works for an arms dealer. When the tether breaks and an astronaut starts floating away from his ship, does it matter that he's still in sight of it? He's still never coming back. I enjoy Rachel Maddow. She talks like an episode of Friends. All quirky and whatever-y. But seriously folks. Seriously...
This will be my first Christmas without my mother who died in January. I think I've been in a low level mourning pattern all year, but the holidays are going to make it worse. My father and younger brother will both be travelling on Christmas Day. Father in Missouri. Brother in New Hampshire. Mother in Space. I'll wash up on the shores of my in-laws as a holiday refugee, despising the expense and the lies of Christmas. Flotsam of the universe with no career to love. No skills to market. Only half-heartedly engaged in the material world.
I know this is kind of too late for you, but you don't actually have to lie to your kids about Santa. I never did. People thought I was mean and robbing them of the "magic" of Christmas, but they still liked Christmas plenty. (People can be such idiots.)
Sorry about your mom. My best friend from high school lost her mom this year, so I have been thinking about how hard it would be at this time of year. I can only imagine, of course, but still, my heart goes out to you.
Awww. Thanks Charity. It was nice to see you yesterday. Are you getting younger or what? I did tell Poopsie hello for you. Did you say hi to Bob for me?
I'm curious about how you got away with not lying about Santa- weren't you afraid your kids would go to school and blow the myth for the other ki.... oh... wait a minute. Home school. I think I just answered my own question.
Don't be jealous of me, my friend. Responding to snarky, anonymous comments on the internets takes a toll, yes it does. Besides, I have to keep talking about how much I love my job -- if I didn't love it, I'd be crazy to do it.
Re: Santa -- we're trying to figure out what the heck to do about that. Graham knows who Santa is, but we haven't explained the whole "he comes to your house and leaves presents" thing. Not sure how far I want to take it. I feel like a big phony pointing out Santa everywhere we go, but the kid loves Santa. Maybe because Santa's a guy, and he has two moms...? We're planning some good guy-time for him with my dad come Christmastime.
And I'm sorry to hear about your mom. I remember the first year after my older cousin was killed in a car crash -- he was like a brother to me. It was really hard, being around family at the holidays. I can't imagine what it must be like for you.
If it makes you feel any better, I'm very glad you're engaged in the material world.
Actually, my two older kids used to go to daycare. Then they went to school through first/second grade.
When they were really little, it just never came up. I don't think they realized that there were kids who thought Santa was anything more than just a story. Then when they got a little older, I just told them that other kids think there is a Santa and that they would be really sad if they found out that it wasn't true. They are pretty nice kids, for the most part, and they never said anything.
It was nice to see you, too. I totally forgot to tell Bob that I saw you! In my defense, he goes to Bible study on Monday nights, so I don't see him until late. I'll have to tell him tonight.
Don't be jealous of me, my friend. Responding to snarky, anonymous comments on the internets takes a toll, yes it does. Besides, I have to keep talking about how much I love my job -- if I didn't love it, I'd be crazy to do it.
I'm not jealous of you Cathy. I'm just a huge, huge fan... and really jealous. Are you kidding? Responding to snaky anonymous comments? I live for that shit! I do it for free! I didn't envy your position here, however.
I'm a fan because YOU got me into blogging in the first place. I read the story you did on Brian Brown and started blogging at iburlington, then I moved on to BP which (correct me if I'm wrong Charity) may have also help inspire Charity to start blogging too! You're a catalyst for change and an inspiration! I hope you didn't put this up for me. That would be a little too embarrassing. I am employed and I'm certainly not complaining about my job, whatever it is.
but the kid loves Santa. Maybe because Santa's a guy, and he has two moms...? We're planning some good guy-time for him with my dad come Christmastime.
All kids love Santa, it's a Pavlovian response to gifts he's associated with, not a guy thing. But it will be good for your boy to go hunting and toss back a few brewskis with your dad. Maybe catch a football game or fix a car, too.
Two moms isn't any deficiency. Moms usually do more with their kids than dads. My wife does. Even beside the fact she stays home with them, I think she just likes doing the kid stuff more. My dad was 70 when I was 6 and was a raging maniac back them. It was my mother that really took care of me, even though she was also the main breadwinner. Not to pick on my dad. I understand him a lot better now that he's 99 and I'm 35.
*****
Then when they got a little older, I just told them that other kids think there is a Santa and that they would be really sad if they found out that it wasn't true. They are pretty nice kids, for the most part, and they never said anything.
Arrrg. That would have been the way! We've already been talking about Santa, so now to do it your way I'll already have to explain why I was just lying about Santa. Damn it! I'm not going to say any more about it. Poopsie can keep it up with the Santa business if she wants. Do you know she wasn't allowed to celebrate Christmas openly back in the old Soviet Union? But even still it was ten times more spiritual than it is here.
"Do you know she wasn't allowed to celebrate Christmas openly back in the old Soviet Union? But even still it was ten times more spiritual than it is here."
From what I have heard, from missionaries that speak at our church and stuff, countries where Christians are persecuted are way more spiritual than we are here. I mean, they don't come out and say it, but we always leave thinking, man we are so missing the point. It's quite an awakening. Of course, then we forget again. America breeds complacency.
Anywho, Haik, you totally are the one who got me into blogging! You sent me an e-mail and told me to check out your blog. (I think you saw me on Channel 17.) Then I decided to start one. If it wasn't for you, who knows if I would even have a blog, let alone two. (Actually, I have three, but one of them I never update.)
No, I didn't put up that help wanted post for you, Haik. It really was spurred by the conversation at the 3.0 panel. And then by my conversations with some out-of-work writers who could use some job leads...
Thanks for this conversation about Santa. This is really the first year we've had to deal with it. Graham is finally old enough, and we're still trying to navigate the situation.
We're also trying to navigate the religious meaning of Christmas. But that's a whole other long, convoluted conversation...
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"Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses
yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your
teeming shore, Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed,
to me: I lift my lamp beside the golden door."
-Emma Lazarus, 1883
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Junktique's New Site
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Jessica Sklar
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"I hate having to lie to them about Santa."
I know this is kind of too late for you, but you don't actually have to lie to your kids about Santa. I never did. People thought I was mean and robbing them of the "magic" of Christmas, but they still liked Christmas plenty. (People can be such idiots.)
Sorry about your mom. My best friend from high school lost her mom this year, so I have been thinking about how hard it would be at this time of year. I can only imagine, of course, but still, my heart goes out to you.