Good For You, Self!

You did not give in to temptation and slink off to see “Oblivion”!  No, you stayed home, and saved $7.  Not only that, you saved two hours of your life which were instead spent on:

  • Catching up with old friends.  You found an e-mail from Beth Alvarado.  Which was just so, so —  zen, because you had just been in the Stanford Creative Writing Program yesterday, attending a colloquium with T. C. Boyle (T.C., why are you so hip?  What gives you the right to be so hip?  How can you be a famous author and not be an ass?  How?  How?  How?  Is it your red converse sneakers and the black suit and the hair that probably at one time used to be a mullet?) and it would have been a terrible waste of the energy flow from that event to see a movie like “Oblivion.”
  • You got to try to get son off from jury duty.  That is, you called the San Mateo County Courthouse on his behalf and explained that on the date in question, son would be in Claremont, receiving his Masters diploma.  And the lady said, “Fine.  I’ll move his date to the following week.”  To which self really had no rejoinder.  Well, actually, she did attempt a rejoinder but the lady cut her off and said, “Ma’am, this is the second postponement.  By now he should know what his summer plans are!” Self meekly subsided.
  • You got to hear the mail landing in the mailbox.  And you were then able to see that you had a form rejection (from Colere) and an announcement of winners of the Sarabande Book Prize and were informed that IF you were a finalist, the entry fee for next year’s contest would be waived, so you thought that you were a finalist, until you read the names of the finalists.  What is the point of sending a letter saying IF you are this, then you won’t have to pay a fee to join the contest next year, when there are only three finalists and the letter was probably sent to EVERYBODY?
  • You got to do more web research on your favorite characters from “Game of Thrones” :  Jaime Lannister (You finally realized you’d been mis-spelling his name forever), and Brienne of Tarth.  And you found this fascinating interview between Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (Self can’t believe she actually spelled that correctly), and Rolling Stone.  NC-W says quote unquote:  I’m sorry, I’m going in circles.  You were asking about Brienne and I’m talking about Jaime!  To which interviewer responds quote unquote:  It’s very Jaime of you.  To which NC-W responds quote unquote:  We should have Gwen on the phone.  It’d be more fun.

See, this is the reason why watching Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth on “Game of Thrones” is so much fun:  there’s this on-going banter between two people who respect each other, one of whom just happens to be a man.  And maybe Brienne, the woman, really wishes she were a man as well.  The man’s good looks are completely incidental to the relationship, and the woman’s plain-ness is incidental as well.  Holy Cow!  Did you catch that smokin’ hot tub scene in Episode 5?  When Brienne stood up from the water where she’d been just moments earlier simpering like a blushing bride and displayed herself to Jaime in all her earthly glory (from the back, but her curves were evident), and the guy was just — mesmerized?  As were we, the viewers?

Until the fight on the bridge episode (Episode 2?), which was the last one self saw before leaving for Venice, self’s favorite character on “Game of Thrones” was Daenerys.  But —  no more!  Give her Brienne’s awkward ungainliness any time!

So, given that self had skipped watching approximately three weeks’ worth of “Game of Thrones,” she could be forgiven for wondering why Jaime Lannister was wearing that hand on a rope around his neck.  She didn’t realize it was his own hand until some bandit began ridiculing him about it.  Then it was — GASP! —  Holy Major Plot Development!  As some other person on the web said (You see?  Self really HAS been all over the web this afternoon!):  Jaime.  Oh, Jaime.  I really hope you’re ambidexterous.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

First Post-Venice Costco Run

Ah, Costco.  It is such a crucial part of self’s life.  Even though she has a wee family, which at the moment consists only of The Man and self, she insists on her right to make Coscto runs and purchase those huge packages of paper towels and bath tissue.  Today, she ended up buying a lot of foodstuff, in addition, of course, to her trusty Benadryl (Incidentally, why did Costco stop carrying the 148-pill bottles of Benadryl?  It is so inconvenient for self to have to cut up all those pills from the foil backing.  It takes her so much time, time which would have been better spent reading her book!).  She bought chicken thighs and a 25-lb. bag of Blue Ribbon long grain rice, and headless Tiger Prawns.

Speaking of Costco chicken, the chicken tenderloins she cooked today had absolutely no taste, and self had to drench in Ponzu sauce.  What kind of chicken has NO TASTE?  Even after being marinated?

Self is still reading Little Heathens:  High Spirits and Hard Times on an Iowa Farm During the Great Depression.  Even though this is a very short book (just under 300 pages), and self began reading it almost a week ago, she is still only a third of the way through.

Self is on a chapter called “Medicine.”  In this chapter, we learn that living on an Iowa farm exposes one to injuries of all types, injuries such as:

cuts from axes and knives

stone bruises caused by bare feet on rocks

oozing scrapes


blood poisoning

pinkeye/ chicken pox/ measles/ mumps


And, here, the author, Mildred Armstrong Kalish, describes a remedy for cuts:

We just went to the barn or the corncrib, found a spiderweb, and wrapped the stretchy filament around the wound.  It stopped the bleeding and the pain, and was thought to have antiseptic qualities.  Generally, healing occurred without further attention.

The only thing that self doesn’t like about this book is that she has no idea how much time is passing —  how old is the narrator when she applies her first spiderweb remedy?  How often did she or her family have to resort to the Vaseline, lard, baking soda, boric acid, salt, camphor, and other homespun remedies for mishaps such as stepping on a nail or on some broken glass?

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

No More Blurry Pictures

Because the camera is new.

New meaning, she bought it a year and a half ago, but couldn’t bear to stop using her old Nikon, which she bought in Hong Kong in 2006.  Sentimental value:  That was the last time self and Sole Fruit of Her Loins were in Asia together.

But, sentimentality begone!

Well, thank you Venetian thief of self’s luggage.

Now, no more blurry pictures!  Forevermore!  She opened the box where the new Nikon had been languishing, and tested it out Saturday, snapping pictures of The Man’s culinary wizardry.

Hmm, how wonderful to be able to take sharp pictures without having to lean on some kind of support!

Here is what self cooked for dinner:  chicken tenderloins, sauteed in Ponzu sauce (Thank you, Mz Kathleen, for introducing self to the wonders of Ponzu sauce!)

Stir-fried Chicken Tenderloins!

Stir-fried Chicken Tenderloins!

One of the pleasures of cooking at home:  having every ingredient at her fingertips!

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

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