Friday, September 11, 2009

It Goes by Many Names

Certain people call it Blog Fart Friday. The really classy ones anyway. I think The Mom, Jen at Cheaper than Therapy calls it Friday Fragments (but what does she know about class?). I should probably call my Car Rider Crumbs since all this stuff came up while I was sitting in the car rider line reminding Munch 4,862,973 times that we can't go home until we pick up the big guys.

Anyway, what ever you call it, the concept is simple. This is the randomness that couldn't be stretched into a full post even by me - the self proclaimed Queen of Fluffy Filler.

There is something about finding a recipe online or in some obscure cookbook and having the courage to tweak it to your own signature. Almost like vandalizing a neighbor's house on Halloween (not that I would know). There's always the chance that something will go wrong or someone will drive by and catch you. But in cooking it's the chance that a spice will go sideways on you or will be one of those "strengthens as it cooks" or "dried and ground is not the same as fresh grated" spices. And the whole world suddenly knows that you were the one who messed with the standard. And they never eat at your house again.

More proof that I am NOT a good person. I will not flash my headlights to warn people of the cop who is about to catch them blatantly speeding in a school zone. Call it tough love or discipline. But for the sake of my children, their classmates, and the school bus drivers, I want their happy lead feet to get busted.

I'm thinking that a lifestyle tweaking may be in order. Writing and reading into the wee hours of the night is leading to a disastrous home and a heavy dependence on caffeine and Hershey bars. At my current investment level, I should own Pennsylvania and Brazil by Christmas but they'll be buried under unfolded laundry and dirty mugs with coffee reheat rings.

As if having Facebook and e-mail on my Crackberry wasn't bad enough. Dummy me decided that I should add Twitter Berry to my repertoire. Stupid little blinking red light.

I forgot how much I love NPR. The music makes me feel smart; the personalities have sweet mellow voices and the news is actually pretty close to neutral in its politics. It's like a soothing oasis in the middle of media gone mad.

1 comment:

dana said...

Okay. Nothing like making me feel SO OLD as that Blackberry phone and Twitter Talk. I have no red light on my phone......just one on my heart monitor. (joking)