If you say you’re going to do something, do it

If it’s true that “what you do on the first of the year is what you’re going to do for the rest of the year,” I think I may be in trouble.

wpid-confusedSo far today, January 1, I’ve managed to clean, nap, cook and walk into another room four times, forgetting what I was there for and then working on something else, until I walked back into the kitchen and remembered what it was I intended to do originally.

This does not bode well.

In fact, it took me looking at the stove four times this afternoon before I realized that it wasn’t 4 p.m., but that the oven was on and cooking at 400°.

Does that mean for the rest of the year I’ll be dazed and confused, or that it will just take me longer to realize what I’ve actually been accomplishing?

I feel like I’m getting old and forgetful.

In my defense though, it’s been a long couple of weeks.

Really. Long.

There have been numerous holidays, lots of stuff going on, one huge party, a few set backs and disappointments and a ton of work commitments to get thru. It didn’t feel much like a vacation, even if I was “technically” off work.

Come to think of it, with 70° weather and rain, it didn’t feel much like Christmas either.

o-UNWINDING-facebookAt one point last week, I was given the opportunity, several actually, to walk away from a commitment. It would have been the easier thing to do. I would have disappointed others, but it would probably have been easier for me to just walk away from what I had said I was going to do.

Then, I thought about what my friend Steve has said to me before. “If you say you’re going to do something, do it.”

And that’s what I did. I kept my word. I, along with several others, threw a huge party and while it wasn’t the overwhelming success we thought it would be earlier this year, it was still a success.

Which got me thinking.

Maybe if I said that I was going to do something today, and then did it, it would be a better indication of what the rest of my year would be like.

As such, I’ve decided to start the year off right writing.

refashionistaInspired by my blogger girl crush, the Refashionista, I have started a challenge for myself. While she will do a post a day for 366 days (leap year, you know), I will do a post a week. That’s a big leap for someone who has not really posted anything since before Halloween.

I think I will do them on Mondays. I always hate Mondays, so maybe writing for myself on a Monday will make it easier for me to face them.

And I’m going to work on other things too.

I’m going to finish my cookbook for my sons – all of our family recipes, interspersed with some of my old columns, and a few of our old family stories. I want to have it ready to give to my oldest son if and when he moves out.

I’m going to seriously work on getting my children’s books published – starting with “My Little Zombie” for which I found an illustrator recently.

I’m going to focus on finishing my novels and getting down to the editing process.

I’m going to write about the Children of Clay – a project I’ve wanted to work on for almost a year now.

I’m going to write a history book about Anderson.

There’s also a lot to look forward to this year.

200020892-003

I’ll get my hip replaced in April or May. Little Mason will graduate in June. Max will start working  – if all goes well and the Hot Topic angels are smiling on him. And in October, Pints for the People will enter its fifth year of giving away money to charities.

That’s a lot of good stuff.

And I’ll write about it all.

One week at a time.

If I can remember what I’m supposed to be writing about when I go into my office, that is….

 

Copyright (c) Liz Carey 2016

All images remain the property of their respective owners.

 

Advertisements

Scream Queen – My Halloween Advent Calendar

I’ll admit it, I’m not like most girls.I-love-weird-quirky-girls-300x245

Wanna take me to a movie? Make sure it has some good car chases and things that blow up. Wanna curl up on the couch with me and watch some Netflix? Better tune into the thriller/suspense/psychologically-messes-with-you-from-the-first-scene section. Wanna make me swoon? Bring over a zip drive loaded with your favorite slasher flicks, some popcorn, lemonade and maybe some JuJuBees.

Wanna go see a Rom Com?

Ask your sister.

No, instead of wanting to watch some dork sweep a girl off of her feet by somehow deciding not to date her best friend, I want to see something that really moves me.

I want to see a good horror flick. Or a good thriller. Or a good adventure flick. Heck, there are even a few Tom Cruise movies that I almost don’t hate with a passion.

If it's good, my fingernails will be chewed down to the nubs.
If it’s good, my fingernails will be chewed down to the nubs.

But my favorite, my absolute favorite, is a good scary movie.

If I’m cringing under my blanket, barely peeking out between my fingers, I’m in heaven. It’s kinda like riding a roller coaster – you know you’re safe, but it scares the crap out of you anyway and gets your adrenaline pumping and your heart thumping. There’s nothing like it.

Periodically, Max and I will curl up on the couch on a Sunday afternoon and experiment with some new scary movie we’ve heard of, or one he’s never watched. With some popcorn and a blanket, it’s an afternoon made for this Mama.

batesMotelThis all started last year when we got this light-up sign for Halloween that said “Bates Motel – No Vacancy,” but the “No” part wouldn’t light up. Max insisted it was broken.

So, of course, you know, in true Uber Weird Mom fashion, I had him sit down with me on the couch and watch the original “Psycho.”

I’m sure it didn’t result in any permanent psychological scarring.

It was in black and white after all, which is about as scary to them as Tom and Jerry cartoons.

Still, since then, we’ve watched “Silence of the Lambs,” “The Babadook,” “Scream,” “Children of the Corn,” and “The Sixth Sense.”

Dinocroc_vs._Supergator_DVDI did the same thing with his older brother Mason too. Of course, those were more B-movies that we watched and laughed at, late at night after everyone else had gone to bed. We got through at least three of the Godzilla franchise movies, “Lake Placid” (1 and 2), “Piranha” (in 3D), “Jaws” and any number of really awful creature vs. creature flicks.

Think Dinocroc vs. Supergator… yeah… we made our own little Mystery Science Theater:3000 in the living room on those.

I consider this doing my part to enhance their cultural education.

This year, however, I’m doing something different. Instead of just binge watching scary movies from October 23 to Halloween, I think I’m going to count down the days to Trick or Treat with a movie or five a day. I’m thinking it will be my own personal Halloween Advent Calendar.

With the help of some trusted friends, and a few online lists, I’ve compiled a list of scary movies to watch everyday this month.

Overweight Woman Relaxing On SofaHopefully, on November 1, my hair won’t be white, and my waistline won’t look like I’ve swallowed a pumpkin whole.

Because there are so many good ones to watch, I’ve added a few theme days on Sundays so I can fit them all in. And I’ve tried to avoid the ones I’ve either already seen.

See one or two you like? Let me know when you watch them what you think, and I’ll try to do the same.

I think it’s going to be a killer month… Get it? “Killer” month???

Jeez. Some days I just slay me…

  1. Halloween
  2. Oculus
  3. Human Centipede
  4. tumblr_mga07o7N6O1riz051o1_500Classic Movie Weekend – Nosferatu, Cat People, Ghost Story (Fred Astaire), Creature from the Black Lagoon, Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things
  5. You’re Next
  6. Eyes without a Face
  7. Tucker and Dale vs. Evil
  8. Creep
  9. Monkey Shines
  10. The Uninvited
  11. House movie weekend – House, House on Haunted Hill, Haunting of Hill House, House of the Devil, House with laughing windows
  12. The Strangers
  13. Sleepaway Camp
  14. Maniac
  15. Madman
  16. Event Horizon
  17. tumblr_n00r3mVljv1t0demio1_500American Psycho
  18. Surreal weekend – Jacob’s Ladder, Inception, Angel Heart, the Changling, A Tale of two Sisters
  19. Repulsion
  20. The Innocents
  21. Suspiria
  22. The Haunting (1969)
  23. The Sentinal
  24. Halloween-rob-zombie-209651_1280_1024Rob Zombie’s Halloween
  25. Modern Classics – Exorcist, The Omen, Alien, Chucky, Salem’s Lot
  26. The Host (Korean version)
  27. Severance
  28. Black Death
  29. Starry Eyes
  30. Scarecrows
  31. Halloween H20

sinfulcinemahalloweenh20_2Stay Creepy!!

Copyright 2015 (c) Liz Carey

Pancakes for lunch, anyone?

Okay, so my son's not Iron Man, but still...
Okay, so my son’s not Iron Man, but still…

For the first time since he was in fourth grade, I’m making lunches for my youngest son.

Did I mention he’s a sophomore now?

Yeah.

He’s 16.

And I pack him a lunch every morning.

Because he’s 16, I cannot make all those cute little things that other mommies try to make you feel guilty for not making, like lunches that look like Legos, or Star Wars themed sandwich sets, complete with Yoda shaped homemade potato chips.

Seriously, who has that kind of time? It would take me 20 minutes just to find a straw, let

yes, you're seeing that right... the circles on the legos are glued on with ranch dressing... someone has WAY too much time on their hands.
yes, you’re seeing that right… the circles on the legos are glued on with ranch dressing… someone has WAY too much time on their hands.

alone cut out cute little circles on a square of bread to make it look like a building block…

He’s too old for that anyway – too old for cute shaped cheese slices or ants on a log (peanut butter filled celery) or packets of fruit snacks stapled to little “I love you” notes.

But I’m still packing his lunch.

The reason for lunch packing mania is simple – it’s cheaper.

And since I’m working from home now, it is just easier to make lunch for him instead of buying something from school that he won’t eat.

On the flip side, whatever I make for him, I make for everyone else, as well, so, really, lunch for all four of us is typically done by 7:30 a.m. SCORE! That means I can go back to sleep and work through lunch, right?

(Uhm, no, but it’s a nice thought)

I’ll not say it’s been easy – we’ve had our ups and downs with the menu over the past three weeks.

At first, it was chicken quesadillas, with a container of tortilla chips and fire-smoked salsa (no, not homemade), some grapes and a small bag of cookies.

Pretty cool, huh?

He was ecstatic.

I mean, who in high school gets quesadillas in their lunch box?

I’ve done yogurt with mini M&Ms, paired with veggies and dip, cheese squares and apples… oh, yeah… and a brownie. That was a hit too.

One day, it was ramen noodles with chicken and green onions. Another it was hummus and pretzel chips, tuna in a pita pocket and a Nutty Buddy bar.

Ramen noodles? He was in love. Tuna fish and hummus? Not so much.

Pancakes for lunch
Pancakes for lunch

Then there was the day he asked for pancakes and bacon.

Usually, when I make pancakes, it’s after I get up around the crack of 10 on a Saturday, to make it for the boys and whoever of their friends has stayed over the night before.

Now, he was asking me to get up at 6:45 to make pancakes and bacon, stuff it into little Tupperware containers and make a healthy lunch out of it.

Instead of rolling my eyes, I did it. And I’m not talking pop a few hockey pucks of dough out of the yellow box in the freezer and throw them in the toaster. I’m talking mixing the batter from scratch, and plop in a few fresh fruits just for good measure. All before my morning coffee…

He was thrilled.

I worried a bit about what everyone else at the lunch table would say – you know, kids can be mean at that age. Okay, at any age.

But what I found though was that everyone was jealous. He says everyone wants to see what he gets to eat for lunch. One girl even tries to steal his lunch every day and trade him her school bought lunch. He won’t have it.

_I_ liked it, but the boy? Not so much.
_I_ liked it, but the boy? Not so much.

There have been some slip-ups… the chicken schwarma salad with lemon basil vinegarette? Not a hit. The homemade pimento cheese? Good the first time, not so much the second. Pitas and pita chips are not a favorite. Peanut butter and jelly on honey wheat with potato chips, always still a go-to selection.

For him, packed lunches are great. He gets what he wants to eat, every day is a surprise and he gets something to look forward to at lunch.

For me, it’s good too. I know he’s eating, instead of throwing away what someone else puts on his plate. I know he enjoys being a little different and having everyone want what he’s got for a change. I know he knows I care – which can be pretty important to let kids know when they get to high school sometimes.

And it’s good for the two of us, as well. We spend time talking about food and about what we’re going make for future lunches, what is healthy to eat, as well as about what he really likes and doesn’t like.

For instance, he really likes grapes. He’s a little ticked at me right now, because I haven’t had the time to go to the store to get more grapes. He ate an entire 3-pound bag of grapes in a week, and that was WITH me telling him to cool it so he’d have some for lunches.

A teenager… eating grapes… like they were candy… Who knew?

We decided that this weekend that we’re going to make homemade pretzels together, so

  1. He will know how to make them, and
  2. We can experiment a little with them for lunch. We were thinking maybe we’d try making some with pepperoni and parmesan, and add to it a container with some marinara sauce for dipping.

And I found a few recipes using Pillsbury Crescent Rolls that I think I can turn into some fun stuff, so we may make something with them too. Heck, just flattening out biscuits and turning them into pizzas is an option. Won’t THAT make him the hit of the lunch table?

Notice how none of them have packed lunches? And yet, every parent of a teenager I know complains about the quality of school lunches.... there's a weird correlation there, I'm sure.
Notice how none of them have packed lunches? And yet, every parent of a teenager I know complains about the quality of school lunches…. there’s a weird correlation there, I’m sure.

For now, packing lunches works. He’s eating. He’s eating relatively healthily, for a teenager. He’s being looked up to, instead of looked down on. And he’s happy.

If any of that changes, I suppose I’ll change too and figure out another way.

But for now, I’ll go on packing his lunch with a little creativity and a lot of love.

Tomorrow – peanut butter and jelly. And on Friday? It looks like I’m making pancakes – for lunch.

Copyright © Liz Carey 2015

Summer time and my toes are freezing

How is it that it’s 487 degrees out there and I’m wearing socks and covered up in a sweatshirt?

heatSeriously, how is this even possible?

Last night, when it cooled down to 87 degrees, I went out on the porch to read. Within minutes I was drenched. I stayed out there though and read some more. “It’ll acclimate you,” I said to myself. “There’ll be a breeze along any second,” I said. “It can’t stay this hot forever,” I said.

I was wrong.

In the words of my family, “It’s hotter then 10,000 poopie tails.”

Today will mark the fourth day of 90+ degree heat since we returned to South Carolina, uhmmmm… four days ago. Our weeklong trip to Kentucky was blessed with 70 and 80 degree days where we lounged comfortably in the sun, or took shelter in comic book stores during the rain. Our return home was met by a wet blanket of heat and humidity that no one in their right mind could get comfortable sleeping under.

In fact, as I write this, it is 95 in Anderson, SC, presumably on its way to 147 Kelvin, while it’s a balmy 82 in Versailles, Kentucky (my hometown) and 78 in Cincinnati (where we lived before moving here). How is THAT fair?

I know the heat is the pay off for the definite lack of snow during the winter months, but still… give me a few days of a polar vortex in February over 90+ degree heat for three months any time.

cold-indoorsStill, here I am, wearing multi-colored polka dot ankle socks and a red sweat shirt. Why? Because I’m freezing!!! Go figure!

This year, in order to save a little money, we raised the thermostat to 74 degrees for the air conditioner. When you get a $250 electric bill, you tend to do things like that.

And, in deed, it is a balmy 74 in here – up from 72 from last year, and 70 the year before. But since I get cold when it gets to 70, I’m still in trouble. Because it’s hot outside, I have on shorts and a tank top. But given that I’m no more than six feet from any air vent in this entire house at any given minute, I need the sweatshirt and socks to keep my extremities from turning to icicles and falling off of my body due to the air conditioning keeping the temps low.

My guys are all walking around without shirts or shoes. Well, when they change out of their pajamas anyway. And here I am barely able to stop shivering long enough to fix myself a glass of sweet tea.

Is this a sign of aging? I remember when my grandmother was older, she’d turn the thermostat up to 90 on a summer day because she was cold. I’m beginning to feel a little like that. Am I really that old?

woman cooling herself
woman cooling herself

It’s not like I’m cold all the time though. Everyone once in a while, I’ll get so hot I’ll feel like stepping into the freezer and living there, but after a few minutes the feeling goes away and I turn over and go back to sleep.

Surely, this doesn’t have something to do with the fact I got an AAPR membership application in the mail today, does it?

To solve it, I know I’ll venture outside here in a minute. I know that I’ll be sweltering before I can turn on the car’s air conditioning while my make up runs off my face and my body gains that healthy glow that one can only get from producing a gallon of sweat every five minutes.

At least I won’t be freezing anymore…

Copyright (c) Liz Carey 2015

Car repair for girls

Woman-Broken-Car-1969081There’s nothing more frustrating than being a girl and trying to fix your car.

This past month, my 2007 Jeep Commander had a bumper that needed to be fixed… and by fixed I mean, reattached to the rest of the car with anything that does not resemble Duct Tape.

In complete girl logic, I just assumed that if I put off fixing it, it would stay the same until I got around to it.

Wrong! What happens to you, when you’re a girl trying to keep things together with fingernail polish and bobby pins, is that men look at you and laugh.

If you don’t take the time to put in that rear wheel well (which actually fell off last year during a traumatic tire explosion on the way home from the beach with a car full of teenagers), what happens is that bumper/fender assembly pulls away from the rest of the car and decides to flap dangerously in the wind, like a really stiff champagne-colored shirt in a 40-mile an hour gale ready to come undone and blow onto someone else’s car at any second.

And when that happens, many men would rather do it for you instead of watching you do it on your own.

This, of course, is what happened to me when I was driving back from Greenville and was traveling in excess of 60 miles per hour. That bumper looked like it was going to break off like a piece of the Apollo 13 space craft.

Houston, we have a problem.

duct tape carWhen I looked into my rearview mirror and saw what was going on, I stopped at an auto parts store for help.

That’s where I met Mr. Johnson, whose initial solution was to take some Gorilla tape and attach the bumper to the rest of the car.

(Okay, not to be too picky, but let’s review here – champagne SUV, black gorilla tape, wildly swinging back bumper… can you say redneck?).

After several minutes of back and forth between a plastic parts aisle and my car, Mr. Johnson determined they didn’t have the part I needed and that I should go to Low Ray’s, an auto parts store down the street, to ask for the right rivets.

I asked him what part I should ask for. He just looked at me and said, “Don’t worry, honey, if you tell them where it needs to go, they’ll know what it is.”

So I went to Low Ray’s two days later and found, much to my surprise, that the auto parts of was filled with enough toy pedal cars and hobby horse airplanes to start a toy museum, which, you know, seemed odd to me as it was an auto parts place.

But that’s where Mr. Johnson said to go, right? As I walked in, I saw a fence behind all the toys and asked if they had the part I was looking for. I told them Mr. Johnson sent me.

car parts storeThe guy I was talking to abruptly disappeared into this auto parts cave for a few minutes. He never really looked at the car, never asked what I actually needed outside of my vague “I need the things that hold my rear bumper on to my car.”

Believe it or not, they didn’t have my part. He recommended the Internet.

So, I went home and got online. For more than an hour I searched for the parts I needed. I even chatted for help.

HC-chat-rep-620x344Auto parts website chatbot: Hello, my name is Brett. What can I help you with?

Me: (not answering because being on chat hold for 18 minutes tends to make me diddle around on Facebook)

Auto parts website chatbot: Hello? Is there anyone there? I haven’t heard from you in a while.

Me: Yes, I’m here. I was on hold for so long I went to another website.

Auto parts website chatbot: Great! We’re glad you’re back. My name is Brett. What can I help you with.

Me: Hi, Brett. I’m looking for a part for my 2007 Jeep Commander. I need the things that hold the bumper into the frame and the wheel well into the body of the car. Do you have a those?

Brett: Great. Let me check on that for you. Do you have the part number?

Me: No. I looked on your website, but I couldn’t find anything that looked anything like the little plastic doohickies I need.

Brett: That’s okay, I can look them up for you. While we’re waiting, Liz, would you like for me to sign you up for our email list?

Me: Well, honestly, Brett, since I was on chatbot death hold for 18 minutes, I’d really just like to get the part I was looking for.

Brett: I understand. To speed up the process, why don’t I just use the email address you entered when we started this chat, Liz?

Me: Brett, why don’t you just look up the part for me so I can order it and \ will no longer be driving around with duct tape holding my car together?

Brett: I can do that. Do you know what the part is called?

Me: If I knew what it was called, I probably wouldn’t have watched “All of our representatives are currently helping other customers. Someone will be with you shortly” repeat on my screen for nearly 20 minutes.

Brett: Okay, let’s see. We have the rear passenger-side bumper assembly package here for just $137.11. Can I place that order for you, Liz?

Me: Brett, I have the bumper. I just don’t have what I need to attach the bumper to the car. Don’t you just have those little thingamabobs that you stick up into the car to hold it on to the metal part?

Brett: That’s what the rear bumper assembly will do.

Mfrustrated on computere: That’s crazy. Why do I need to buy the whole kit, when all I need is those little spindly thingies? Whatever. Will it fit my 2007 Jeep Commander?

Brett: Uhm, no. We don’t really carry a lot of parts for the Commander.

Me: Seriously? Couldn’t you have just told me that to begin with?

Brett suggested I go to a dealer.

Which, of course, I did.

I dressed up in my best “Yes, I’m a girl but I can use a screwdriver” look and hoped they would take pity on me and help me find the right parts for my car for less than $50.

They didn’t.

In fact, they nearly smirked when I drove the car to the dealership and they showed me the drawing of what it was supposed to look like and how difficult it would be to install.

But I would not be daunted. I ordered the parts, picked them up a day later and took them to a friend’s garage to work on the car. My friend said “You know, I can do this for you, so you don’t have to lay down on the ground and get dirty.”

Sigh.

I’m not that kind of a girl.

When we figured out the parts guys hadn’t given me the right rivets, it wasn’t until I went back and dropped my friend’s name that the parts guys took me seriously. When they came back with the wrong part three times in as many days, it wasn’t until I started to cry in frustration that they found the right part. When I asked them how much it would cost to fix a shorting fuse in the lift gate, it wasn’t until I told them I had already done my research that they came down from their $600 estimate to a $200 part.

mechanic girl_car repairAnd it wasn’t until the female parts assistant came in to help me that I got treated like an actual person without being talked down to. She was the one who told me I needed a rivet gun and she was the one who helped me get the right pieces to use.

And after that, I did it. I fixed the bumper. I reattached the wheel well. I put the flair back on. I learned how to use a rivet gun. I laid down in the dirt and didn’t even get upset when mud and oil from under the car fell into my face and hair.

I didn’t cry when I broke a nail.

Sure, I didn’t do it ALL by myself – I had help from my husband and my friend, who showed me what to do and how things went together. But I did the work.

And for that, you gotta give a girl credit. Even if I don’t know all the parts’ names, or how to use all the tools, I can still do it.

I am not helpless.

I’m just a girl who likes fixing her own car.

That, gentlemen, is nothing to laugh at.

Copyright (c) Liz Carey 2015

Veggie Time

I’m sorry, I have to say it. I really dislike some vegetarians.

I don’t dislike the fact that they are vegetarians – heck, I think everyone has the right to decide what they want to eat. And honestly, if someone would rather eat spinach, cannellini beans and quinoa instead of bacon double cheeseburger, that’s none of my business.

No, the ones I have a problem with are the vegetarians who think that because THEY are vegetarians, you want to be one, or should be one too.

For instance, this afternoon, I picked up a soup cookbook at the library. I have to say I was really excited because a quick look at the back cover included a reference to “pho” one of my favorite Vietnamese dishes.

Beef Pho
Beef Pho

Pho is known for being one of the great Vietnamese street foods, and you won’t see an Anthony Bourdain Vietnam episode without some mention of it. It’s a soy sauce based broth on noodles called bahn pho, with herbs, spices and meat – usually either beef or chicken. It’s just amazing comfort food, give or take the “slurp slurp” noise that sometimes accompanies eating it.

So, I was really excited to get the recipe home and try it our, right? Of course right!

Imagine my surprise then when I open the book to the right page and there, in little words before the recipe, was a disclaimer saying while the original recipe was “redolent with beef” they had made theirs a vegetarian version.

WHAT?!?! I didn’t want a vegetarian version of a meat and noodles soup! I didn’t want faux pho, I want pro pho!

You want me to do what with it?
You want me to do what with it?

And then I realized all of the soups were vegetarian versions with little notes about how, if you gave it as a gift, the recipient could add their own meat later after you left.

Yeah, that’s TOTALLY going to make your friend happy to have to get a gift that makes you work…

It reminded me of a friend a few years ago who was getting married. A guest of one of the invited guests requested that not only did she want a vegetarian dish that the hostess hadn’t planned on providing, but that no meat be served at her table during the reception. I’m not making this up. I was stunned too.

Here’s the thing, if you don’t want to eat meat, that’s cool, just don’t expect me to forego meat with you or for your comfort.

There's plenty of vegetables on there for two...
There’s plenty of vegetables on there for two…

If someone wants to delude themselves into believing that tofu and mung beans taste better than ribs and brisket, that’s fine for them. But please don’t expect me to order a salad and cornbread at the Big Pig BBQ because I’m sitting at a table with vegetarian.

You know; if you can’t take the meat, stay out of the smokehouse.

Some vegetarians I know talk about the poor animals who are murdered for our carnivorous needs and it makes them sad or sick to even see them on a plate.

Or that the animals are poor sweet creatures slaughtered for our benefit.

Uhm, let’s take cows for instance. I’ve worked with cows. A) they stink. B) they poop in their food. And c) they are dumber than rocks.

Not that any of them does anything to deserve being hit in the head with a sledgehammer, cows-in-field2but still … they don’t all look like Bessie on the milk carton or the cute cows you see on Chick-Fil-A billboards. And none of them talk. Honest. They are big, dumb creatures that taste really good roasted over a charcoal pit.

A good steak, medium rare with a nice garlic butter? Awesome. Man, oh man, it doesn’t get any better. Add a baked potato and a good Shiraz or Cabernet Sauvignon. Heaven in dishware.

I don’t think anyone will ever say that about bean sprouts or edamame. I just can’t picture anyone getting worked up about a carrot raisin salad and a side of fried tofu covered in tomato sauce with a glass of sauvignon blanc.

There’s no point in arguing that one way of eating is better than another. It won’t make enough of a difference to a meat eater to give up sausage, and it won’t make a vegetarian choke down some bacon. People should be able to choose to eat what they want. But no one should assume that others should share in their eating habits, just because they happen to be around them and don’t like the smell of what they might order.

You think beef smells bad? Get a whiff of tamarind paste or falafel soaking once in a while.

Stinks worse than the damn cows, if you ask me.

But then again, if you’re a vegetarian sitting next to me, I’m not going to assume you will eat up a big bowl of beef stew just because I’m next to you either.

 

Copyright (c) Liz Carey 2015

Do You Love Your Mother???

Do you love your mother????

CALLING ALL WRITERS, ASPIRING WRITERS, OR PEOPLE WITH A STORY OF MOTHERHOOD TO SHARE to read their own words about motherhood at The Alverson Community Theater for the first LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER scheduled for 3:00 pm May 2, 2105

All ages, genders, ethnicities, variety of writers invited to audition—NON-MOTHERS WELCOME. Bring your own original humorous, poignant, and soulful words about the beauty, the beast, and the barely-rested that is motherhood (or about your mother/person who raised you)

Auditions are BY APPOINTMENT ONLY Saturday March 17, 18 ad 19 from 6 to 9 p.m. at Anderson Area Chamber of Commerce Conference Rooms B & C, 907 N. Main Street, Anderson, SC.

TO SCHEDULE AN APPOINTMENT send an email to Liz Carey at lizcarey@charter.net with the word “AUDITION” in the subject line. Please include your name and availability. Appointments will be first-come/first-serve until all slots are filled. AUDITION PIECES SHOULD NOT EXCEED 5 MINUTES. Please time yourself reading aloud before auditioning.

Shorter is fine. Shorter is great!

  • Bring two copies of your piece that will not be returned.
  • Arrive at least 10 minutes before your appointment to fill out an audition form
  • Previously published work accepted as long as author retains full rights or has express permission to read the work for the event.
  • Commitment includes two read throughs, two rehearsals TBD in April, and a pre-performance run-through at 7 p.m. Friday, May 1 at the Alverson Theater, in addition to the performance on May 2.

Many LTYM Alumni had no professional writing or stage experience, some had never spoken in public—all will tell you of the amazing experience of sharing their story before their community on Mother’s Day. Join the national series of live readings giving Mother’s Day a Microphone! The 2015 Season includes local productions in Austin, Chicago, Madison, New York City, Northwest Arkansas,

Northwest Indiana, Philadelphia, San Francisco, Spokane, and Washington D.C

Bram Stoker

It’s October, Y’all!!! TIme to get your scary on! And EdMooney’s Photography blog today chronicles the life of Bram Stoker – author of “Dracula.” Love, love, love!!!

Ed Mooney Photography

Abraham Stoker Abraham Stoker

So to kick things off on the run up to Halloween, I thought were better to start with, than the master of gothic Horror and creator of the infamous Dracula, Bram Stoker. Although Bram did not live long enough to see the fruits of his labour, Dracula would arguably go on to become one of the most influential cultural phenomena of the modern era. Abraham “Bram” Stoker was born on 8 November 1847 at 15 Marino Crescent, Clontarf, on the north side of Dublin, Ireland. He suffered from poor health during his early years and was bed ridden for much of this time. To keep the young Stoker entertained, his mother Charlotte would tell him many stories and legends from her native Sligo. These stories were believed to have included many supernatural accounts and tales of death & disease. As a result of his illness, the young Bram…

View original post 886 more words

I should be writing…

It’s 10:30 p.m. and for the last two hours, I’ve been thinking “I should be writing.”

I got off of work at 5, went power grocery shopping, came home, ironed my son’s curtains, made dinner while teaching my sons to cook and loaded the dishwasher.

About 8, I sat down to relax.

But in the back of my mind, I kept thinking, “I should be writing.”

The laundry list of stuff I have to do just repeated in my head. Organize a meeting for Pints for the People (our non-profit event group), add to my blog, finesse the budget for the Zombie Pub Crawl, work the numbers for a plan at work.

But instead, I was out on the porch reading and drinking a beer

It’s not always been this way.

I remember before the kids were born, I thought I was busy. And then, when they came, I thought “Oh, my LORD, how can I get any busier than this?”

But now, I’m busy. Even though the kids pretty much take care of themselves and help out around the house, I’m still crazy busy.

And it’s all my own fault.

Back then, I worked as a marketing director or a writer. I’ve been writing or 20+ years, either in marketing or as a reporter. And when I got home, my nights were – make dinner, give the kids a bath, put the kids to bed, relax for a few hours and go the heck to sleep.

Then, I commuted 45 minutes to work, one way, which included dropping kids off to daycare.

Then, my days weren’t quite so filled.

Then I thought I was busy.

Somehow, spending nights at council meetings and board meetings translated to working at night. On the nights, I wasn’t reporting, I started working on books, and children’s books, and articles until 11 or so at night, and then spending another hour or so relaxing in front of the TV.

Now, I run a non-profit with friends and organize events in my spare time. I write. I help others with their events. I apply for grants and events to come to our area. I work on, well… work. And that’s after work and home life.

I think it stems from a deep commitment to not watching TV and being easily bored.

Seriously, I think I just got to a point where I can’t stand not having something to do.

I mean, I LIKE not having anything to do, but on the second day of a weekend when the house is clean, there’s a lull in events, I’m not going out to help someone else with their event… well, the joy of freedom lasts about 2 hours and then I just get this annoyed feeling like I should be doing something… anything…

I think this stems from my Mom.

She is nearing a milestone birthday that she doesn’t want anyone to know about because she thinks it will make people think she is old.

And even though she retired when I had my first son, she still works days at the clothing bank she founded and as the treasurer for her local Salvation Army chapter. The woman is busier now that she doesn’t have a job than she was when she did!

And she’s always been that way. Collecting for the Mountain Mission, working at the church nursery on Sundays, raising a teenage problem child by herself (uhm, yeah… that would be me), all while working full time and running a household.

I’m pretty sure I’m the same way now. I didn’t have a choice but to learn it from her. Except for the fact that I still have a job and I get easily bored so I have all these things I come up with to do that keep me from watching TV.

They can’t, it seems, keep me away from those books though. Which is, oddly, also like my mother…

I should be writing…

But first, I wonder if I can download a copy of “Gone Girl” to my husbands kindle….

Copyright (c) Liz Carey 2014

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: