i have this strange aversion to cooking meat. i don't know why, or where it came from; considering i'm fairly adept in the kitchen, it seems like a rather odd affliction. i make a mean lasagna; i just wouldn't dream of doing it with anything other than spinach and ricotta cheese. i think it's a bit of a holdover from the lone quarter of home economics i was forced to take in the seventh grade. our teacher (a not-so-closet alcoholic whose coffee was so heavily spiked with brandy that we could frequently smell it as far back as the fourth row) had a pathology about salmonella and e coli--those pesky little bacteria that like to travel by meat. as such, she did her level best to instill in us a sense of urgency with regards to cleaning the kitchen after handling meat.

'use hot water! if it's not hot enough, the bacteria left on the chopping board might make someone sick! and you don't want that, now, do you?' (no, not especially. necessarily.)

of course, my eleven-year-old mind decided to take that a step further; if the bacteria left on the cutting board can make you sick, the bacteria in the meat must be able to KILL YOU BADLY! since i had no idea how much heat it would take to destroy the offending bacteria, or what i'd have to do to the meat, i basically just gave up on the idea of ever cooking it. i couldn't handle the pressure.

this particular course of action served me well through college, when i gave up all meat for a while, even exploring veganism (a short-lived incident, ending with a curious scene involving a block of cheese). also, the eating disorder helped with the not cooking of meat. or anything else. but, eventually i got out of school. and i started eating like a normal human being again. and i started reintroducing various meats into my diet, though i still retained a pathological terror of cooking them (thirteen years later, i still have a terrible fear of inadvertantly poisoning my dinner guests with an undercooked drumstick).

i stared down that fear last night.

while i am still too nervous to try anything wild, like, say, roasting a chicken, i am proud to report that i make a pretty decent salmon fillet with rosemary butter and roasted red peppers that thus far hasn't killed anyone!

up next:...i can't even think that far ahead. i whipped into such a frenzy over the prospect of poisoning Boy last night that i'm still too weary to even consider my next culinary triumph. really. unless that next triumph involves a dirty martini. i could probably consider that ok.

to whomever it is that seems to enjoy perpetuating the spam scam wherein you pretend to be my bank and request my online access information, here's a tip: next time, be sure to spell "verification" correctly. "veerification" is a dead giveaway.

also, one of my exes (the englishman) is getting married.

there are roses on my desk. a dozen of them. in thanks for the 'pleasure of my company' this weekend.

it would seem that i am dating a romantic. hm.

so, according to the apple website, the strange and unresponsive behavior that my pod was exhibiting last night means one thing: time to reset.

which means: I HAVE TO RIP EVERY GODDAMN THING IN MY CD COLLECTION FOR A THIRD TIME SO THAT I CAN LOAD IT FOR A THIRD TIME.

yarr. ah well. i grumble, but reloading the music is really a pretty small price to pay for having the pod not die. so hopefully, actually, all i have to do is reset and reload. fingers crossed, eh? the pod is on the list with my guitars, the very short list of 'things that would cause me to go utterly ballistic if they died.'

i am coming down off the high that only a massive consumer frenzy can buy. today, at considerable risk to life and limb, i have found myself the proud owner of: new glasses, a new set of sheets, several picture frames and two bottles of contact lens solution.

it doesn't sound exciting to you, but consider this: i spent only eighty dollars on all these wonderful things. aww, yeah.

my final, and most important new year's resolution, is something i neglected to mention, largely because it seemed...well...not flippant enough to include on my to do list. because it's very important.

it is this: i hereby resolve to never try to twist and contort myself into the shape that i think someone else wants me to be, ever again. starting now, i will call when i want to call, email when i want to email, bristle when i am angry, tell people i love them when i feel it, reserve the right to be direct when i'm disappointed, stop making excuses for other people's behavior, speak what's on my mind, expect an actual explanation when i ask a question, feel completely justified in wanting to talk every day, refuse to be treated like a dirty little secret, and expect to be appreciated like the fabulous creature i am and if people don't like it, they can fuck off and die. because if they're going to have me in their lives, they're going to have ME in their lives. not the shrinking little flower that is willing to compromise herself to keep people from running away. if i have to work that hard, and give up that much, they clearly don't want to be around me anyway.

i'm tired of trying to make other people happy by denying what i want. hell with that.

this new plan seems to be working much better so far.

addendum: someone wise put it simply thus: "we only commit treason against ourselves when we start practising contortionism to try to fit in some sort of case that's easy for someone else to carry around." i think that sums it up awfully well.

today, i pulled out a cd that i had abandoned for far too long, by local fabulites two chicks and a casio. oh, the excitement! oh, the joy! there's one song in particular that i adore, that i am hereby resolving to listen to every time i feel bad about myself, or feel pangs and ghosts of old dumpings, or just need a general boost and reminder of my own personal fierceness. and i think that all the rest of you should, too.

the lyrics. *ahem*


TMW (too much woman)

too tall and too fine and too smart and too funny
too hip and too hot but don’t worry, not too much money
great friends and cool clothes a nice place and lots of invites
therapize, exercise, you realize so many delights

tmw too much woman for you

educated and complicated and not afraid to talk x-rated
open mind and a heart that’s kind I’m quite a find can’t be debated
sensitive with a lot to give not afraid to live or strongly feel
intense no pretense low maintenance the real deal

tmw too much woman for you

am I too much woman for you?
tell me, whatcha gonna do?
been around the block a time or two
am I too much woman for you

you’re not on your own if you live at home and you’re not exactly my style
there are many girls not of the same world with nothing behind the smile
step up to the plate, bring your wallet on a date, it was brave of you to call
step up on a stair, higher than my hair, just so you look tall
I need a man who will understand now this is not absurd
get out your thesaurus ‘cause here comes the chorus and I might use a big word

tmw too much woman for you

quick wit, no bullshit, a big hit in any venue
strong willed and fulfilled and quite skilled with any menu
mama is, sister is, grandma is and so I am too
it’s scary but hereditary and it’s called TMW

start with this.

then look at this.

i guarantee your friday will improve

so, more than half my bonus was eaten by taxes. but it was still enough to pay off the credit card. i am now debt-free. ROCK ON.

now, to move on and deal with the fact that this company is trying to fuck me out of a week's vacation. if there is a god, i will be out of here before long.

in other news, i have a show tonight! at the orange bear! at 8! and i'm wearing leather pants! (it's all very exciting)

the question was put to me earlier today: if i to pick a setting for a weekend away, where would it be? i said rhode island; vermont. he said spain; florence; vienna.

clearly, i missed the 'no holds barred' caveat that was implied. and i prefer his suggestions, anyway.

but i am expected to come up with a real answer to that--i mean, if i'm going to pick an anywhere, it had best be properly anywhere. and i say that as long as i'm playing this game, i might as well get exotic. morocco. tangir. ulaanbaatar. provence. qingdao. vienna (where the bears live).

funny. i just got home, and now i'd love to go away again. the magic of winter.

suggestions?