Cooking for cooking's sake

I do like to cook. For some reason I prefer to do it when Poor George is not around - I'm not sure why. Because when I do cook with Poor George, I have fun and I learn things, even if he chastises me severely and then mocks me openly for every gaffe I make. He claims his Chinese heritage and his father's instruction methods as the reasons he does this to me. According to George, the Chinese have such a reverence for food that to screw around with your ingredients is the height of disrespect to the universe, and in situations where animal products are used, disrespect to the animal who gave its life so that you can stuff your fat face.

I suspect there may be more going on with PG's admonishments than that, but I'll work with that for now.

Yesterday morning I got it in my head that I would like to spend the day cooking and that I would make myself a super fancy meal. I had lofty visions of my friend Brandon, who was raised in a stereotypical New York Italian home where lasagna was served as a first course to any meal. I decided I would make myself a lasagna to start.

Of course, being the imbecile that I am, I searched the Web for an "ultimate" lasagna recipe, and ended up going with one that requires its own tomato sauce from scratch.

"I don't think you're going to want to make your own sauce - that will take too long," said Poor George gently over the phone. At present George is in Illinois helping my parents move, an act that should in itself qualify him for sainthood.

Since I didn't actually start until after 8 pm last night, Poor George turned out to be exactly right. My lasagna was not ready until well after midnight - at which point I had no desire to eat it. (I did take one tiny little square, and while not being the best lasagna I've had in my life, I will say that it is still pretty good.)

The recipe told me to boil two whole pounds of lasagna noodles. I was dubious that I would be able to use that much, but I followed the recipe dutifully and as a result ended up with an entire batch of unused cooked noodles.

So this morning I whipped up nice little tuna noodle hotdish, made with my own bechamel in place of a UBI. For the uninitiated and non-Midwesterners among you, "UBI" stands for "Universal Binding Ingredient" used in hot dishes, more commonly known as Cream of Something Soup. None of that church basement stuff for me today, Gentle Readers. Today is the Real McCoy.

And lacking any potato chips to layer on top, I opted for buttered panko bread crumbs. That, coupled with the generous dollops of Tobasco and cayenne pepper I threw into the mix, seems to give my tuna noodle dish the "innovative taste" lacking in most church cookbook recipes.

Some further investigation into my refrigerator contents prompted me to throw together a potage of potato, leek, broccoli and cauliflower which is now cooling on top of the stove. Alongside a delicious looking swiss chard souffle I just removed. (I used leftover mozzarella instead of gruyere so I'll let you know how that turns out. Smells wonderful.)

Inside the fridge I still have a nice piece of wild red sockeye salmon that I intended to eat with a miso glaze as my main course last night, but seeing as how I didn't make it through the first course the salmon remains uncooked and uneaten.

I have all this wonderful food surrounding me right now, with no appetite to eat it. I hope I feel hungry around 5 tonight because I will be enjoying a real feast. Wish some of you could join me.

The View -- a special kind of retarded

What in God’s name did we do to deserve this?*

I need to start tracking my Internet browsing history more carefully, because doing so might explain the surreal twists my insomnia-provoked web surfing seems to take. Last night I started around 3:00 am on a quest to find an online recording of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s actual speaking voice, and ended at 7:00 am by watching old YouTube videos of the ladies on “The View” discussing Prop 8. How the first led eventually to the latter is anyone’s guess. If you’d like me to email you my browser cache, maybe you can make sense of it.

I hate to have to say it about all of them, but here it is: the ladies on “The View” are morons. Even the ones I like. Even Barbara, sadly.

I know I’m a lawyer and all, but do none of these ladies even remotely understand the strength of religious freedom in this country? Did they miss that day of school in first grade where kids learn that you get to practice whatever religion you want here without being thrown in jail because of it? I mean, seriously? Barbara, Whoopi, was this really a question?

Holy shit. I know Elizabeth Hasselbeck is a bona fide idiot with the sense of morals and ethics God gave an acorn squash, but I would expect more out of Barbara Walters. Hasselbeck started off by saying that people should have voted “Yes on 8” because a minister in Sweden was supposedly jailed because he refused to marry a gay couple. And we can’t let that happen here! If Prop 8 had failed and gay marriage became the right of Californians, then ministers in California would have to marry gay couples or go to jail.

Neither Whoopi nor Barbara said a word to contradict this, or even to question it.

Seriously ladies? Holy f*cking sh*t. As I said, I am a lawyer, but I don’t think I had to pay Georgetown $70k to understand that we don’t jail church ministers for preaching to their congregations.

The next day (or sometime later) Whoopi was prompted to do a little research when GLAAD called to protest the complete asininity of this “conversation” these women had on the air in front of the even stupider general public. And so Whoopi cleared it up for the group. At which point Hasselbeck and the black chick who replaced Cherry Jones, or whateverthef*ck her name was, both said “well this information came from GLAAD. We’d like to hear what the other side had to say about it.”

The “other side?” What other side? Like Fred Phelps?

Oh. My. God. If you have not yet seen the movie “Idiocracy,” I advise you to watch it as soon as possible, because it’s coming true.


*As noted on the brilliant website NoMoreAffleck.com

Bill Maher is smart

This news about Victoria Jackson being a Bible-banging tea-partier is really interesting. I always suspected she had wet-brain, but now I have proof. How disappointing that I used to laugh at some of her SNL skits --- unless, perhaps, I was laughing at her rather than with her. Yeah, that’s it.

Bill Maher talked about this on his show the other night. That man is brilliant, and I don’t really care that what he says offends people --- because honestly, we’re the only ones who seem to think it’s important not to offend those who despise us. When are our left-of-center leaders going to grow a pair and start calling a spade a spade instead of trying to broker deals with people who refuse to reason?

Bill quoted Victoria as saying something about the producers of “Glee” having shoved the gay agenda down America’s throat. After having fun with this easy shot of a thinly veiled reference to fellatio, Bill noted that we should be shoving gayness down the throats of Americans because that’s what the Republicans do every single day.

Unlike the Democrats, when Republicans believe in things that the public doesn’t, their response is "f*ck it. We’ll make them believe." Like attacking Iraq to avenge 9/11, like convincing a country that badly wanted health care reform that they really didn’t want it, like turning global warming into a hoax. That’s what conservatives do. Relentlessly push, until the unthinkable becomes the consensus.

I really have nothing to add, because he could not have spoken my mind any better.

Greetings from the land of "I feel like sh*t"

I have been sick with a nasty cold since Sunday, and it’s one of those evil spring flus that creep up very slowly and get progressively worse until you feel like begging Dr. Kevorkian to make a house call.

I hate being sick. Really, really hate it, and especially this time. It’s so damn inconvenient, and aside from the benefit of being able to avoid most aspects of work and household duties, I derive no pleasure out of this at all. Even laying on the sofa watching “Glee” reruns on my Roku has not made me feel better.

I cannot get comfortable no matter what I do. I can barely speak because my throat hurts so much. Lying down makes me want to stand up. Standing or sitting makes me want to lie down. Even Lunesta isn't helping me get a full night's sleep because I wake myself up coughing my guts out every 20 minutes.

I can see why some people say “you either get better or you die” and I take comfort in that sentiment because holy Jesus, I would not want to live my life feeling this way for any significant amount of time.

The funny thing is I don’t even really believe in illness. I’m slightly Mary Baker Eddy that way – minus the part about the Bible. I believe that people make themselves ill because somewhere deep down they want to be ill to avoid having to take responsibility for anything. I believe that if you don’t want to be ill, you don’t have to be, and that you can take all the proactive steps to avoid illness such as eating correctly and getting enough exercise to keep those white blood cells circulating around your body to ward off pathogens. And getting enough sleep. Et cetera.

I am not always 100% effective at following my anti-illness regime, but I still think I deserve an A for effort. So when a cold like this comes from out of nowhere and kicks my ass, it is especially frustrating. I feel like crying out to the Universe “Hey! What gives? I’m really trying here!”

I have a number of theories on why I get sick more often than I think I deserve. I’ve been reading about body ph and how you need your ph to be slightly basic to avoid illness --- and most of the foods I love (all the good stuff that most Americans love) are ones that cause your body to be more acidic.

I also think I have a sleep disorder due to snoring, like about 75% of the adult male population. I don’t want to get one of those horrendous-looking sleep machines, mainly because I think you have to sleep on your back to use them, and I hate sleeping on my back. But maybe I can train myself.

Anyway, thanks for listening to me vent. I’m quite displeased right now, because I’m in one of those states where I feel like I will never get better. But this too shall pass. Blech. (cough cough)

An open letter to 網站設計

Dear 網站設計,

You keep visiting my Blogger friends, telling them how much you miss their writings on theater and writing. But you never visit me. Aren't MY writings on theater and writing ALSO "much missed?" It hurts me to be left out like this.

I too sometimes write about "theater," but I have to admit I don't have too many writings about "writing." I know some people have published books on writing, and I often talk about how Blogger is for writers whereas Facebook and Twitter are for hacks. But I don't think that's what you were getting at when you visited my friend Dale recently. Dale's post was about ventriloquists, which surely should not count as theater. Am I right?

And I'm fairly certain Dale didn't address writing in his post. So why did you have to visit him and not me?

Your friends 情趣, 巴黎, and even 充氣娃娃 used to visit me. Frequently. So frequently that I had to call in 角色扮演 to kick their asses. At one point I threatened legal action, and ultimately activated that annoying "comments moderation" feature so that I could force them to stop visiting. That was especially aggravating for me, given that I am perilously lazy and always seek to do as little work as possible.

But now that 情趣, 巴黎, and 充氣娃娃 don't visit any more I have become lonely. Please don't be so cruel to me, 網站設計. Stop breaking my heart. Won't you please visit me too? I promise I'll try to write more about theater. And writing.

Love and coasters,

CP

An Open Letter to My Tinnitus

Dear My Tinnitus,

Why have you plagued me since I was nine years old? And why are you getting worse lately? You first entered my life after I flew in an airplane for the first time when I was nine and had a bad head cold. My parents weren't flyers and didn't know this would be dangerous for me.

My ears hurt like a holy son-of-a-bitch on that flight, and from the moment we landed my ears have never stopped ringing and popping. I don't know why I never said anything to my parents about it. I guess I was just happy that I could hear at all, and that I was not in pain.

Most of the time I don't think about you, My Tinnitus. But for some reason, lately you seem louder. When I go to bed in the quiet at night I hear nothing but your steady high pitched tone and you annoy me. Nothing I do makes you go away, not even for a second.

What would my universe sound like without you, My Tinnitus? And why can't people agree on how to pronounce your name? I've heard two doctors refer to you as TINN-i-tus, whereas most others call you tinn-I-tus. Which is it?

Maybe it would be a good idea for you to go live somewhere else for a while. We need a break from each other.

Love and coasters,
CP

An Open Letter to the 3Jesus97 Lady

Dear 3Jesus97 lady,

You proclaim to love Jesus every chance you get. I mean, you live in Oklahoma and I guess that sort of thing might be required down there. But do you have to have approximately 57 crucifixes hanging all over your house? Do you realize your entire house is decorated in an instrument-of-torture motif?

And when I asked you about your parents that one time, 3Jesus97 lady, you replied "they were horrible people and I'm so glad they're dead!" Why would you say something that harsh, 3Jesus97 lady? Although I found it quite funny and got a good laugh out of it, I know you weren't joking. Didn't Jesus teach you that it's bad karma to talk that way about dead people? I'm not sure Jesus would agree with your approach, 3Jesus97 lady.

Finally 3Jesus97 lady, why have you turned into such a crazy bitch at work? Why are you trying to undermine me and the rest of your colleagues? Don't you know that we are about to rise up collectively to bring you to your knees where you belong? Shouldn't you be on your knees anyway since you are supposed to be praising Jesus?

3Jesus97 lady, you know I am a total Jew for Jesus, right? Just like that one guy on "Glee." Jesus is my #1 Heeb. And I say that just because I like to, even though I'm not Jewish. But you need to take it down a notch, 3Jesus97 lady. Because no one is buying it, and especially not Jesus.

So, 3Jesus97 lady, I suggest you get with the program and start living more like our Boy if you want Jesus to help you. Because you're about to get your ass kicked.

Love and coasters,
CP