Ken Lee. No, no, I Ken Lee!!

This cracks me up more than anything else lately. LOVE the English subtitles.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_RgL2MKfWTo

Shallots

Now that the weather is finally nice again (every other day or so at least) I’m really trying to get some good use out of my bike. And in that same sense of self-improvement, I’m also trying to learn to cook because, who knows, maybe one day I will be a “Mrs.” and therefore be required to create edible meals for someone other than my cat. Wishful thinking.

So yesterday I loaded up the bike and drove over to Freedom Trail. Someone at the Capitol mentioned it was a good trail, so I decided to give it a go. It’s true- the Trail is a good one. I rode my spandex-clad behind over every inch of path I could find, tiring myself out after only an hour’s ride. Yes, I am outrageously out of shape- it should be a crime, bearing the same penalty as wearing leggings 24-7 (ahem, Lindsay Lohan). Seeing as how I really could care less about how I look when I grocery shop (a reason I’m perpetually single? Possibly.), I packed up my bike, and took my sweaty, spandex-y self to the grocery store.

At the intersection of Freedom Parkway and Ponce de Leon, the grocery shopper has two options: turn left for Kroger or turn right for Publix. Taking into mind my loathe for the state of Florida, I took a left and went to Kroger, knowing that my old faithful grocery store would not make me regret this decision.

A side note about my Kroger. It’s um, how shall I phrase this, “urban.” It’s between North Avenue (should tell you enough right there) and Ponce de Leon. Its nickname is ‘Murder Kroger’ presumably because they kill competition with low prices. Riiiight. But I still choose to go there because I like to stand brave in the face of fear and support the struggling local national chain store. Plus, it’s frighteningly close to Atlanta’s best pizza joint.

Now here’s where the fun starts. If it’s not toilet paper, milk, or beer, I’m pretty much at a loss when I’m at the grocery store. But the recipe I found was pretty simple: tuna steaks (does that come from a cow-fish!?), spinach, russet potatoes (there is more than one kind of potato? Maybe that’s why Dan Quayle got confused), and shallots. So you can see my dilemma. Amazingly, I managed to get all the ingredients save for the tuna steaks and shallots. Shallots, shallots… I have heard the word before, but are they crackers? Dairy products? Vegetables? Yes, that’s it- vegetable! So, I scour the seemingly infinitesimal veggie section at the Murder Kroger but alas, no shallots. But, maybe this is user error- surely every Kroger sells every ingredient in every recipe. Sadly, there were no shallots at the store, according to the produce manager. Humpf. Ok, whatever- they were just to add to the spinach, I can do without.

Off to the seafood section. Wait, don’t blink. Darn it, you missed it. I turned back around to the glass case with shrimp and crab legs in it, with a jar of capers offered for sale resting on top. “Excuse me, sir? Er, ma’am? (indeterminable gender; I love Atlanta) Do you happen to have tuna steaks?” At this point, the seafood specialist, I’ refer to as “Pat,” looked in the case at the shrimp, then the crab legs, then back at me; “Nope.” Fabulous, Murder Kroger let me down. Now I will have to stop at Publix anyway. Whatever- I am running on the remaining endorphins from my fabulous bike ride, so it’s no big deal. Grudgingly, I get in line to check out with whatever ingredients I could find at Kroger. After waiting behind a seemingly homeless man purchasing a one-liter bottle of mouthwash- it is Sunday after all- I checked out, and headed to the Publix.

At this point, the Borders syndrome is starting to kick in. This delicate little condition is a peculiarity of my body. After 10 minutes in a bookstore (Borders being my book purchasing preference and therefore the name given to this syndrome), the urge to potty kicks in. Apparently, Borders and exercise are the two irritants of this syndrome. But no worries, I can make it…right?

Luck was on mine and my bladder’s side: there was a front row parking spot! In a fully occupied lot! Thank you Lord! This time, I’m not dawdling; I’m going straight to the first person with a Publix shirt and asking where the shallots are. Ta-dah! They were right in front of me and Juan, the produce guy. It’s amazing how inconspicuous these things are- just hanging on a rack in a little mesh bag. I never would have seen them on my own, thanks Juan! Time to head for the tuna steaks, albeit heading very slowly, as it is rather difficult to walk and simultaneously cross your legs. There is no fresh tuna, shoot! Whatever, we’re at Threat-CON Charlie here, so frozen will do. Two steaks, check. Two shallots, check.

The 15 items or less line is short, hooray! There is, however, another vagrant with a bottle of mouthwash. This makes me a stronger supporter of Sunday Sales- at least beer won’t put you in a coma after one bottle. I check out with a quickness, shuffle to the car, and speed home. I barely make it home without embarrassing myself, but at least I made it home.

I didn’t even like the shallots.

Luck makes the world go 'round.

I think I must be the luckiest person in the world, I'm not kidding.

Take for instance, last Friday. I got to ride in a state plane to tour the Augusta Burn Center. I was touring the facility with the people who run Georgia government. I got to see how experiences like that can really affect what we do here under the Gold Dome. It's amazing when you can actually put a human face and emotion to the 'government machine.' And I got to be there!! I love my job.

Rewind to Thursday; a pipe burst in my apartment and flooded mine and 4 other people's apartments. But none of my stuff was damaged, my cat was ok, and I had friends who let me stay at their (posh) condo. I am so blessed! Even today, my apartment isn't fixed, but at least I have shelter there, it's liveable, just not pretty.

Thanks...

The season of Lent is almost upon us, and this year, I've decided to give up negativity and callousness. In that spirit, let me go ahead and list some of the many things I'm grateful for in life.

-Life: first and foremost, how precious is this thing we call 'life'?! Life is proof enough that God is good. Very good. Some people wake up, go to work, go home, and repeat. They miss all the good-and bad- stuff that makes life memorable. I try to find silver linings, and laugh my way through troubles; now I'll make a more concerted effort to appreciate all that life throws at me.

-Family: Whether its normal or dysfunctional, your family is always your family. I am blessed with parents who love me despite my faults and missteps, and grandparents with whom I connect on a very deep level. My family isn't the cookie cutter all-American family, but they're mine and I love them. I need to learn to say "I love you" more to them.

- Friends: Some friends are fair-weather, and others are in for the hurricanes, floods, and mudslides in life. I couldn't be happier to be able to call April my best friend. She is the sweetest, kindest, most humble person I know. Every day I see something in her that inspires me to be a better person. I'm proud that Libby and I are still great friends, especially considering all the, um, crap we've been through and put each other through. I know that Libby knows my heart, and will always give me the advice I need- whether I want to hear it or not.

-Job: I have the greatest job in the world. I couldn't ask for a more sincere, service-driven, humble boss. My co-workers are like family; I feel like I can count on Melanie and Rita for anything. They've offered me advice and love and friendship, and I will owe them forever. I love coming to work; even if I foul up 25 things a day, I have the opportunity to learn from everything. There is ALWAYS something new here, and I'm always learning. I can't believe I get paid for this!

- Health: So many people are in pain and suffering around the world, so I feel very fortunate to be of sound mind and body. My good health is something I don't plan to take for granted again.

- Freedom: I live in a country where I have spiritual, moral, and educational freedom. As long as I don't harm others or myself, I am basically free to make my own choices about basically everything I want. I couldn't imagine not being able to live my life the way I choose. How often Americans fail to realize how amazing democracy is!

I think that about wraps 'er up. I'm sure I'll add as time goes on. But for now- Mangez! Bouvez! C'est Mardi Gras!

Here we are again

It's almost Session time, unbelievable! I'm still flabbergasted that yet another year has come and gone. I'm excited about Session, but I'm feeling horribly ill-prepared.

On another note, I'm also feeling particularly melancholy. It's one of those (seemingly frequent) nights where I'd rather be in a dark theater crying my eyes out over another sappy movie. I went to Chipotle and Borders to lift my spirits, but instead I felt guilty for eating out and ill-educated for not having any interest in philosophical theories.

I feel at home in my car, though. Sometimes driving is the best medicine for me. I suppose it's sad to find comfort in aimlessly wandering around the city with no direction or purpose (uh, hello metaphor for my life). But I'm at ease when I don't have a plan- at least for a couple hours here and there.

I have a profound loneliness in my life; and recently it's become more and more ubiquitous. Sometimes I feel like my loneliness is its own person, riding alongside me on my meandering journeys. I'm expecting to start talking to it soon. I'm an only child, and apparently totally unworthy of a loving boyfriend, so I'm perpetually alone. It's starting to affect me, I think. It's getting to the point that I've created alternate images of me in my head: a version of myself that is more social, more well-rounded, better-educated, and so magnetic a person that she's irresistibly lovable.