Another Great Mystery

Ever wonder why they still call Lipton's Onion Soup Mix, soup? The space on the back is filled with four recipes. Meatloaf, potatoes, pot roast, sour cream dip. That’s ok. These are pretty fine recipes... (Ok, so I've only tried the taters and dip). You think to yourself, the soup recipe must be on the side. To the right, the ever percent nutritional value. To the left... a hamburger recipe. Top? Bottom? Neither. There is no onion soup instructions. Readily improvisable... just add water for a nice onion broth, just enough for good flavor. Have you ever heard of anyone actually making the soup from this soup mix? I never have. I think I'll try it this week. AND I'll post pictures. Coincidentally, there isn’t one on the net of prepared Lipton's Onion Soup, that I could find.

Rubbing Alcohol

Havn't used it since I had my ears pearced. Until today. I found its secret use. Before today I was certain any textile with silly putty on it was gone for good. Turns out, good ole rubbing alcohol will take it off pretty nice. Test the fabric first for it might bleach it, but at least there's hope!

Dubliner and Mushrooms

Its a darn fine cheese my friends. A simple one to get used to. A mild buttery Parmesan like flavor and sweet aftertaste. Which is probably completely incorrect terming to the experts of cheese consumption. My father compared it to sharp Swiss cheese that’s been mixed with buttered mashed potatoes, if the connoisseurs like that description better. It’s become widely accessible even to folk who live in the boonies, like myself. Try some!


I had portabellas for dinner last night. I picked some up at the store with some garlic and an onion, and the culinary magic began. (And I'm talkin, the kids were eating it too!(Don't count on it though... Its mushrooms and onion for goodness sake!))

Stuffed Portabellas of Savoury Delight

4 Portabella's
8 Slices of Bacon (or more...)
1 Clove Garlic
1/4 Cup diced onion (or so)
4 slices Cheese (Peperjack works nicely, though I like Munster. I think something mild and white works best.)
Parmesan (Optional... I used a tiny bit on the one pictured)
Kosher Salt
Olive Oil
(get creative! Try using less bacon and adding finely sliced chicken or steak instead!)

Preheat oven to 400 f

Remove stems from the portabellas. Twist and wiggle and they should come off right at the base. Set these aside. Brush the cap of the portabella's with olive oil, and drizzle onto gills. Place on a baking sheet and bake about 5 minutes to 10. They'll look juicey, dark, and shriveled.

While mushrooms are baking, cook bacon (and other meat if using). Set aside to drain on paper towel lined plate.

Pour off some of the bacon grease from the pan. Peel the skins off the stem (this might not be necessary but I've always done it. And slice and dice into nice lil bits. Heat the bacon greasy pan, toss in onion, crush in garlic and then add the mushroom trimmings. Cook till the mushroom bits are soft and the onion is all caramelized and slightly translucent.

Break the bacon into small bits and add to the mushroom onion mix and toss. Get your baked portabella's, sprinkle with some salt, and fill equally with the bacon mixture.

Place a slice of the cheese of your choice on each, and your grated Parmesan if using. The put in the oven on broil till cheese is melted, about 2 minutes.

And there you have it. Savoury extraordinaire!

Stoned In The Literal With Stones And Rocks Sort Of Way

I havn't escaped. Yet. Mwahahahhhh......

Abdominals

Bench Press

Squats

"Do you have any friends in this class?"

He must mean for spotters. I stare blankly at him. "Uh... No. No I don't."

He spots me.

I was falling down the stairs when I was done with my 30 lifts of each. And slowly the lack of strength is developing into a sorenss and pain.

"Is that enough weight?" He askes?

Aren't there lighter bars? I wonder.

The worst is yet to come. That is, its not tonight, but tomarrow night when the real pain of it will be on.

Oh that I were dead.

More Pictures

I really need to do some scanning. Woe that I had a scanner... And yeah, the body is a bit fuzzy... but you can see the shadow of its antenna on the seat. Pretty awesome.

Hand held Sony Cybershot

Painted Lady found in truck while camping.

Intellectual

My initial reason for starting this blog- and so soon!- is to describe to you my 6th period class today. Having pursued a creative learning experience through high school, I too have joined the quest for more credits. By the end of this year as planned I will have all I need and some extra. The problem, friends, is the required ones. Yes, I skimped a PE class. I wouldn't take it back for the world! But now I shall pay. The variable as yet, is how much.
They're still seem to be options, but the one I'm fleeing...

Having been directed shortly after lunch as to what my 6th period class was, I knew its general local when the bell rang. I headed down the stairs in the opposite way of my usual habit. New experiences. Right. I was going to go get fit, toned, sleek and strong. I'm all over this. Just like math class right? Your ok by yourself. Just tone them out and be you. Ok... ok... OK WHERE THE HECK?! There's no one congregating. It’s been at least three minutes; there are only two left till class. They’re should be groups forming in the correct locals. And there's no one in the 'big gym'.

A sporty girl walks into the gym. She's... approachable.

"Hey, what class is this?"

"Life time sports"

Some muttering... then I ask, "Where is circuit training?"

"Up there." She points to the second layer of bleachers. After asking directions of the preferred direction of access, I go. It’s freezing in the gym and I'm still not sure if it’s the right place. There's an odd kid here or there. They agree its up where I'm going. Solitary on the bottom bleacher there's a sporty prep sort of girl. Red sweatshirt, blond highlights, orange flip-flops, and the rainbow and white Doony and Burke purse that’s sprung up around our school. She's sitting there looking sour faced and I approach hesitantly. Trying to make the best of matters I boldly strike up a conversation.

"Its cold in here"

"Yeah"

The awkwardness is overwhelming. I give up.

The students start assembling. Horrors of horrors. The sporty kids. The pretty sporty kids and the manly sporty kids gather around. Football players, cheerleaders and their buddies all begin to congregate properly dressed down. I'm worried. I've been in grudge matches - if only in my own head- with these kids since elementary. I can handle this. Yes I can. I have to come in my workout clothes. Ok maybe not... Hmm.

The teacher walks out. And older fellow in a poly workout jumpsuit. I'm not a huge believer in the stereotypic names I've been slinging here. There is no alternative. I knew it when the coach walked in. He is stereotypic nerd/weird coach. He walks us through the syllabus, and leads us, sheepishly following, to the weight room. The sight of slaughter. Kids are strewn about the room lifting various scrungy looking bits of metal. Ripped fake leather padded seats smeared with sweat.

The room smells of it, though strangely enough, the prime body odor comes from the stationary TA. He reads us our duties. 3 sets of 10 on various muscle groups. He shows us the lifts I will never hope to accomplish. "I use this to work on my biceps" on another, "this will give you, ya know... that big neck muscle... right... the triangle one." He shrugs his shoulder’s high to indicate the shape it will give you. I watch bemused. Horrified. Beaming in hysterics.

He proceeds around the room, asking various bulky, muscley guys to show us the machines functions. "This one really works the butt. In case we didn't realize which part of our anatomy this was he shows us with gestures along each muscle used.

"Clean up the weights!" He calls to the class. "Dodge ball!"

It is the epitome of what the media, trainers and my brain have been trying to convince me that exercise is NOT. Grimy, nasty, humiliating, bulky. I would love to get toned. I don’t mind sweating. Yoga, fencing, pilates, areobics, mud wrestling… but EW!

I think he noticed the hysterics. The grinning. I hope he saw the hysterics. He took me aside and said it would be fun. Something about getting to know me, because I have never had him teach before.

I got my locker. Watched horrified and uncomfortable at the game of dodge ball. It tried to hide. It goes under the alias 'Longball' here. There are still big guys who can throw, chucking balls at my head. That’s not the worst part. I'm afraid I can’t kick the ball... and I'm supposed to.

Tomorrow I am but suppliant to my guidance counselor.

For the love of learning get me out of there!

Appologies and Things

It was a big blog down below. No pictures. I'll make it up, though the one I want to show you was a film one... but here's one. Enjoy.