Today some quickies from Drew on humility, being true to oneself, and having a good self-image.

“I definitely don’t think that I’m hot doo-doo. I don’t.”

“I used to look in the mirror and feel shame, I look in the mirror now and I absolutely love myself.”

“There’s something liberating about not pretending. Dare to embarrass yourself. Risk.”

Today, I am trying to put together something spectacular for the Chili Cookoff that Paolo and Miss D are hosting tomorrow. Everyone is going to be there, and they’ve all snatched up the available sides: Miss D is doing cornbread and I think apple pie; Jonohs is of course on cheesecake duty (“legendary”); the LBC is making one of her amazing dips so she has that and chips nailed down already; Corinnette is bringing beverages; Geo, Paolo, and the Gentleman have all opted to enter top secret chili recipes; Jan-Han grabbed pasta salad right out from under my nose for which I do not begrudge her (like I am going to tell my oldest friend’s recently cancer-surviving mom who I adore that pasta salad is my signature dish, and I dare you to suggest I ought); I feel like all that’s left is brats and fancy sauces and rolls, but that feels super-unoriginal. If you have ideas, please throw them my way!

Meanwhile, as I get kind of shady and nervous about large social gatherings, I’ll be keeping the lovely and talented DB’s advice in mind today and work on inner peace. Today, inner peace: tomorrow, a chili cookoff. See, when I write it out like that, my goals are not only miniscule but almost embarassingly easy to achieve. Hurray!

Två tredjedelar av den högst underbara Kartläggartrion befann sig i helgen i Stockholm för att bese en konsert av Röyksopp. Vi fann konserten mycket behaglig och skön. Dessvärre upptäckte vi till vår fasa att många i den övriga publiken inte riktigt betedde sig ordentligt och en hemsk teori föddes i våra hjärnor!

Konserten ägde rum på Berns Salonger, Östermalm, den beryktade överklassdelen av vår kungliga hufvudstad. Redan i kön upptäckte Rå-bert till sin stora förskräckelse att han efter 15 minuter kunde två personers CV:n, som rabblades upp utan större besvär bakom oss. Besvärad och betänksam kom vi in i lokalerna, brydda av alltför mycket närgångenhet.

Inne i överklassens och wannabe-överklassens nästa Berns, stod champagne, dålig dansk öl och diverse droger högt i kurs. Flera drogmisstänkta personer befann sig i vår närhet, vars ofokuserade och dåsiga blickar ständigt stod still i skallarna, väntades på ett musikaliskt under. Folk ville skeppa vidare sina tomma eller halvfulla champagne-glass till bordsskivorna längs sidorna.

Allmänt svinigt uppträdande av brats och andra dekadenta element störde senare delar av publiken, vilket upprörde, bland andra, den inte så store Daniäl. Alldeles för många i publiken var alldeles för närgångna, drogade, fulla och klängiga, vilket resulterade i vår nya teori: svininfluensans uppkomst. Blandningen av sviniga brats, missbruk samt stor bacillspridning pga närgångenhet har fött upp den hemska influensan som vi övriga elitister ska tvingas handskas med. Vi övriga icke-sviniga personer får ett helvete i att behöva bemöta virus, medan svinen på Östermalm av naturliga skäl slipper både vaccin och insjuknande.

Faran vi varnar för dock är att influensans spridning, under Halloween t.o.m., kan spridas likt ett förödande zombifierande virus till övrig befolkning. Då vore det bättre att dö än att bli en svinig brat!

/Daniäl

A LITTLE EXPLANATION is required, here. Some years ago, I found – in a dumpster outside a government office, of all places – a hollow bronze bust of Pierre Elliott Trudeau, Canada’s bratty 15th Prime Minister. To someone who cares nothing for politics – a penny opera for crusty old buggers, I’ve always thought – it’s a wonder I didn’t pitch it right back where it belonged. But something about the bust, cheap and ill-made as it was, struck my fancy, and I wound up taking it home.

For the last 5 years, it’s leered down at me from its perch on top of a bookshelf in my office. I’ve avoided eye contact with the bust as much as possible during that time, to the point that I seldom – that I never – notice it anymore. Strange, then, that I should have a dream about the thing, last night.

In my dream, I was walking into my office, coffee in hand, when I became aware of a voice in the room. I saw no-one, but looking up became aware that it was the bust of Trudeau talking. It was reciting one of my poems – “Ra-Tom Wakes in the Afterlife” (about a mummified cat) – and not in its present, but an early, discarded draft. And I was so horrified to hear the poem with all the warts intact that I began violently screaming, waking in time to hear the echo of that screaming bounding down the hallway, like a rhino, outside my bedroom.

What fun!

JUST RELEASED – The new issue of knowonder!, featuring my story “Twylla and the Tiger” – a cautionary tale about the dangers of feeding children to zoo creatures. The practice has one or two merits, I’m sure – but still .… You can either order a copy, or view it for free online (which would be so like you).

JUST RECEIVED a strongly-worded note from an American children’s magazine editor, declining a poem of mine, “Gruff and Fum-Fudge,” on the following grounds:

Poor people in other countries must be amazed at the gall and/or cognitive dissonance of Americans who insist their nation is based on Christian values…

when we live in a consumer culture that hinges on the beliefs/expectations that the customer is always right and you can have it all without sacrificing anything.

There are some facts of life that are so self-evident that they go without saying. However, there are people out there who have never figured these things out, and if they ever did it would blow their minds.

It makes you wonder what other people know that you don’t.

But that’s not the point. What I want to talk about today is something that is blatantly obvious to me that some people don’t get, and it blows my mind that there are actually people who don’t get this.

If you’re a picky eater then you’re a god damned idiot…especially if you’re American. The most dejected American Emo’s life can only be described as shamefully opulent compared to the average native African, South American, Russian, Eastern European, etc. Most of the world doesn’t get three meals a day. Every day thousands of people die of starvation. Within our lifetime there will come a point when millions of people will die of starvation every day.

Of all the luxuries anyone can enjoy the most basic is the luxury of eating three meals a day. Thus, of all the luxuries you can take for granted the most petty is the luxury of eating. Thus, taking for granted the luxury of eating epitomizes the fact that you’re a spoiled piece of shit more than any other petty, short-sighted, ignorant action you can do.

I could elaborate more, but that would just ultimately be reiterating the same thing I just said, and the only reason I would do that is because I believe that the one person reading this who is a picky eater won’t think about the things I’ve already said unless it’s repeated to them over and over again, which is probably true, but I don’t feel like pandering to a picky eater’s stupidity.

I will say one more thing that I can’t believe picky eaters don’t understand. If you go to a restaurant and the waiter gets your order wrong don’t send it back. How fucking stupid can you be? I guarantee your order is coming back with pubes or spit in it. I typed up a big explanation of why that is a rock solid truth, but I deleted it, because I decided that if you don’t know why that is already then you deserve to eat ass-hair and spit until you figure it out your self.

I hate this train, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!

© The National Reporter, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to The National Reporter with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Because I overheard a teenager complaining to their friend about the non-payment of a cell phone bill causing theirs to be shut off, I’m in the mood to gripe about it.

Why are teenagers so entitled? It has not been that long since I was a teenager and I never remember thinking I was owed anything. I remember thinking I was smarter than my parents (and have since learned I was wrong) and I remember thinking it was going to be so easy to live on my own (and have since learned I was wrong), but I do not recall thinking that anyone owed me any frivilous crap.

Teenagers today think they’re entitled to a cell phone, car, computer and a whole slew of other things that were considered luxuries and privileges to me as a teenager. I grew up in a lower-middle class household with my grandparents. My grandfather was retired from the military and a paper mill and my grandparents drew social security, so we were on a fixed income. We always had what we needed and I was fortunate enough to be able to do a lot of the things that I wanted too, but I knew that we didn’t have the money to do everything I wanted to do and I didn’t pitch a fit because I couldn’t have those things. I babysat to earn the extra money to help pay for the extra stuff I wanted in high school. Having to spend my own money on stuff helped me to understand how much things costed.

It just baffles me to know that in the current state of the economy, where thousands of families are losing their incomes because people are being laid off, that anyone could be so selfish. I mean, who the hell do their parents think they are for paying the electric bill , water bill and mortgage instead of making sure their precious little brat still has unlimited text messaging?! How dare they!

I hope and pray that I can instill better values in my children. I hope they understand the value of money and hard work. I want them to know the difference between needs and wants, necessities and luxuries. I want them to respect the fact that we work hard to give them the things they have.

Basically I hope I don’t raise spoiled brats…

*side note* I used a picture of my son Ty because googling ’spoiled brat pictures’ only seemed to bring up pornographic images of bimbos in school girl outfits. Because, ya know, all guys like feeling like they’re having sex with a whiny five year old. Besides, Ty is a hell of a lot cuter than anything I could have found online, even when he is whining. =P

*side note 2* The teenager in question is someone I know personally and know a lot about their situation, so I do know that they’re just being brats. Their parents are having rough times and having to reprioritze their bills. So it’s not just some random conversation at the grocery store.

Kids are about to don all sorts of spooky attire for Halloween but some of the scariest kids don’t have to wear costumes at all. They’re called “Bratzillas” — you know, kids that seem to run wild while their parents stand by blissfully oblivious or chalk up their child’s bad behavior to a myriad of excuses. It’s one thing if this bad behavior happens in public, but quite another if it’s in your house. What do you do if your friend’s child is running amok in your house and the parents say nothing? Worse, what if you fear your own children could be in danger of getting hurt by your friend’s little Tasmanian Devil? Do YOU discipline the child?

It’s a sticky subject, because your adult friend may take offense if you discipline her child, but at the same time, you can’t let your child — or your furniture — get abused by an out of control kid. I heard a show on NPR about this subject the other night, and although I’d never heard the term “Bratzilla” I could definitely relate to the predicament. And I’ve heard from enough of my mom friends to know I’m not alone. One mom I know even moved to get her kids away from an out of control child whom the parents thought could do no wrong despite mounting evidence to the contrary.

Adult friendships can get strained or even end when parents don’t discipline their kids, particularly in YOUR house. Have you ever had to end a friendship because of the children? Or have you ever been on the other side of the situation — your friend ended a relationship with you?

You can listen to the NPR story here:

Sara Ellington is the author of The Mommy Chronicles: Conversations Sharing the Comedy and Drama of Pregnancy and New Motherhood (Hay House, 2005) and The Must-Have Mom Manual (Ballantine/Random House, April 2009) now available at Target!
www.saraandstephanie.com

So my friend Allie has a blog on blogger called Salad Days. As I was catching up on it on my google reader, I came across a post with this video in it. It’s so true and funny. Tell me what you think…

Yeah, this kid will stop being funny soon as he grows up enough to have the slightest modicum of power over anybody or anything.

Your Thoughts?

In Spring, you are born.  In Summer, you mature.  In Fall, you grow older.  And in Winter, you pass on.

-Luther Johnson (my great-grandfather and owner of the former Cowshed Trading Post in Isom, Kentucky)

It has turned off cold really fast this year.  I remember last year at Halloween I was more than comfortable in just a sweatshirt trick-or-treating with the girls.  This year, I’m thinking I’ll need a jacket unless something changes.  This and the fact that all the cool weather vegetables have started coming in at the fruit stand (the closest thing we have to local farmer’s market… the food isn’t organic and it is trucked in from North Carolina)  have made me start thinking about and cooking the foods we tend to love in the cold weather months.

The last trip we made to the fruit stand was made for getting apples, but I saw some big, beautiful, round cabbages that were just waiting to be picked up by me.   I immediately started thinking about cabbage dishes, kraut, stuffed cabbage, before deciding on cabbage and brats for this particular head.

My mother introduced me to this dish as an adult, but I remember her and my grandmother making it in my childhood, before I would touch cabbage.   It is a traditional dish, and I have added some of my own flares for flavor.

Cabbages and Brats:

Before fully cooked, you can see a few brats sticking up...

1. Slice brats and chop cabbage.
2. Heat skillet on medium heat with a little bacon grease in the bottom.
3. Brown the slices of bratwurst.
4. Add the chopped cabbage.  Add enough liquid (I use homemade chicken stock, you can also use beef stock or water.) to make the cabbage swim a bit, but don’t cover the cabbage.  It will wilt as it warms.  You may have to turn the fire up a bit at this stage.
5. Add salt and pepper to taste.
6. When cabbage is tender the dish is finished.  Serve hot.

I served it last night with fried potatoes and onion and cornbread.  It really hit the spot and with that combination was a really budget friendly meal.

I have been making my own chicken stock for quite sometime, and it is much different than the flavored water you get in the store.   I make it from left over bones, gristle, some skin and fat (if we haven’t eaten it all), and the usual organs and gizzards that are left within roasting birds.  To that I’ll add some bits of veggies that have been left over, or quickly chopped – onion, carrots, and celery.  I then add some salt, cover it completely with water (as much as will fit in the stock pot without spilling over while cooking), and bring it to a boil.  After it comes to a boil, I turn the heat down to a simmer and let it cook for around 12 hours.  I check it to make sure too much water hasn’t left the pot, and if it is getting low I add some.  When the time has passed, strain out all the bones, bits, and veggies, and put it in a container for refrigeration.

The final result after refrigeration, looks like this…

Notice all the fat rises to the top.  Some will skim this fat off and use it for cooking, I like to leave it in to add flavor to whatever I’m using the stock for.  The stock is not a watery one.  It is thick and gelatinous.  This is how you know you used enough bone and have gotten the optimal amount of nutrients from them.

It is delicious and adds so much to any dish, especially soups.  It makes an excellent warmed drink as well, for those days when you feel under the weather.

Cooking like this is another reason I love the fall of the year.