A Site of Beef by Ann-S-Thesia
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10/29/2000 - 11/04/2000
11/05/2000 - 11/11/2000
11/12/2000 - 11/18/2000
11/19/2000 - 11/25/2000
11/26/2000 - 12/02/2000
12/03/2000 - 12/09/2000
12/10/2000 - 12/16/2000
12/17/2000 - 12/23/2000
12/24/2000 - 12/30/2000
12/31/2000 - 01/06/2001
01/07/2001 - 01/13/2001
01/14/2001 - 01/20/2001
01/21/2001 - 01/27/2001
01/28/2001 - 02/03/2001
02/04/2001 - 02/10/2001
02/11/2001 - 02/17/2001
02/18/2001 - 02/24/2001
02/25/2001 - 03/03/2001
03/04/2001 - 03/10/2001
03/11/2001 - 03/17/2001
03/18/2001 - 03/24/2001
03/25/2001 - 03/31/2001
04/01/2001 - 04/07/2001
04/08/2001 - 04/14/2001
04/15/2001 - 04/21/2001
04/22/2001 - 04/28/2001
04/29/2001 - 05/05/2001
05/06/2001 - 05/12/2001
05/13/2001 - 05/19/2001
05/20/2001 - 05/26/2001
05/27/2001 - 06/02/2001
06/03/2001 - 06/09/2001
06/10/2001 - 06/16/2001
06/17/2001 - 06/23/2001
06/24/2001 - 06/30/2001
07/01/2001 - 07/07/2001
07/08/2001 - 07/14/2001
07/15/2001 - 07/21/2001
07/22/2001 - 07/28/2001
07/29/2001 - 08/04/2001
08/05/2001 - 08/11/2001
08/12/2001 - 08/18/2001
08/19/2001 - 08/25/2001
08/26/2001 - 09/01/2001
09/02/2001 - 09/08/2001
09/09/2001 - 09/15/2001
09/16/2001 - 09/22/2001
09/23/2001 - 09/29/2001
09/30/2001 - 10/06/2001
10/14/2001 - 10/20/2001
10/21/2001 - 10/27/2001
10/28/2001 - 11/03/2001
11/04/2001 - 11/10/2001
11/11/2001 - 11/17/2001
11/18/2001 - 11/24/2001
11/25/2001 - 12/01/2001
12/02/2001 - 12/08/2001
12/09/2001 - 12/15/2001
12/16/2001 - 12/22/2001
Saturday, July 28, 2001
Deciding to do something about my craving (see post a few days ago) for chicken liver pate, we decided to go to the "'Kosher' Kohl's" where the most delicious frozen packaged Kosher chicken livers can be found. No, I am not Jewish (and neither is Stan, heh....!), but Kosher food truly is more delicious than just regular food. The "Kosher" Kohl's is a Kohl's food store (our Senator Herb Kohl is heir [fact...did you know that both Wisconsin's senators are Jewish? Wisconsin, of all places. Who'da thought. Expecting Norweigan or Polish senators is more like it) on the west side that caters more to the Kosher-oriented population of Madison. They are in the process of moving their entire contents to a brand new building (ick) and moving out of the classic modern rounded arched facade of Kohl's of yore, which I will sadly miss. Any non-suburban Wisconsinites know exactly what I mean by the old fashioned Kohl's facade. Because of this move, they are holding off placing orders for quirkier foods like frozen Kosher chicken livers. They did have frozen chicken livers, but they were Tyson brand and definitely not (definitely not!) Kosher. I am not contributing to a company that factory raises their chickens and possibly treats their employees even worse (thoughts of the X-Files episode of a factory chicken farm....creepy). So we decided to scrap the idea of getting livers there and went down the road to Whole Foods which we never went to before (Union picketers kept us away before, perhaps).
As we entered the parking lot of Whole Foods, something seemed a bit odd. There was not a hooptee in sight. Not even one. The lot was filled with Audis, Beemers and SUVs, none older than a few years. Our rusty old '86 Aerostar van was a bit out of place. Inside, it was like Instant Boulder (Boulder, BTW, is a snotnosed knock-off of Madison, so it's ironic that a store in Madison would be a knock off the ambience of granola stores from Boulder). It just felt way too yuppified for comfort. You could tell, this is where people with MONEY shopped. They had an incredible, most incredible selection of cheeses, however. It blew my socks off. Cheeses from around the world, whole wheels of cheese...no touristy Wisconsin roadside attraction could lay claim to the thorough selection of cheeses in this market. This was intense cheese for people with TASTE...not that MONEY equates with TASTE. It's just that so many people with money think they have it or pretend to have it. Unfortunately, those of us with taste without money couldn't afford the European imports and had to settle for a little slice of a California number (Wisconsin sacrilege!) instead. Oh, and we bought some fresh chicken livers.
As I left, the stratification of Madison's Natural Food Markets was clarified in my mind:
Willy Street Co-Op: Deadheads and Trustafarians, potheads, in other words, people who appear disadvantaged but are not. We used to go to Willy's when it was at its old location. We were even members for a year or so. Since it moved, it became...rather disturbing and obnoxious.
Whole Foods: This is not a local deal like the other stores...its headquarters are based in Austin, which probably explains a lot of things. (like Texas's quest for world domination?) This is for people who like to try natural foods because they can afford it and it's exotic, for its pretenses within the limousine liberal crowd. This is where people go when they don't want their Armani suits absorbing the odors of a patchoulli'd Deadhead. Get the picture?
Magic Mill: I think this store is related to Willy's somehow, but not sure of the connection. It's smaller, more intimate, and cleaner. This is where people who appreciate the benefits of natural foods shop, but don't want all the pretenses, either of the over-the-top Boulderesque Whole Foods or the post-Dead wannabee trustafarianettes who hang out at Willy's. The people who work at Magic are nice and friendly. This is where we shop when we shop for good foods.
Mifflin Street Co-Op: Smack dab in the middle of the Student Ghetto, I've never been there. Can't ever find parking....this is definitely a store for the Studes in the Hood.
So Stan the Chef prepared the chicken livers in a pate last night.
They weren't that good. They tasted like...chicken livers, not like the delicious pate he made with the previous Kosher livers. We were disappointed.
This morning I was about to prepare Natasha's food and discovered she was out of canned food. There were leftover livers in the refrigerator. I took a spoonfull and mashed them up for our old kitty. I didn't get a craving for pate this time. I guess we'll use Whole Foods for cheese, but not for chicken livers.
Thursday, July 26, 2001
In my dream last night I was living on Peterson Street in Fort Collins like where Stan and I lived for six months, but the house was different. Instead of being sort of a 20s bungalow style, it was plainer, sort of ranch style, but still older. There were no steps up to the house. I think we were in the process of moving from or into the house....can't remember exactly. Also was working at a store and was helping a customer with something. I can't remember exactly what the work was, but I remember glittery things like metallic thread or something.
Wednesday, July 25, 2001
Call me sick...
The past several weeks I've been having to add water to Natasha's canned cat food because she's having problems chewing/swallowing solid food. Also it's good to get as much fluids into her because of her kidney disease. As I soften the food before I add water, mixing and mushing it up with a spoon, I get an overwhelming desire to eat chicken liver pate.
Don't even ask.
And no, no way have I tried the cat food! Yuck...gag...phooey!
Any memorable semblance to a dream last night was nothing but a constant loop of images of G4s.
Tuesday, July 24, 2001
I am sooooo glad I do not have a Wisconsin accent. I am sooooo glad that my mother, who was born in and lived in Wisconsin until she was...29? never developed a Wisconsin accent. Maybe being that she was from Racine one doesn't develop one as bad as if one was from...Wausau or Rhinelander or something? I've known hard-core Wisconsinites to disparagingly dismiss Racine as being "Illinois."
I never knew where to say I was from. I moved around so much when I was a kid...did I call my hometown the town I was born in (Racine, WI) even though I only lived there about a year as an infant? When I was about 13 or so and taking Spanish in Jr. High, one of the questions asked in class was (and pardon me if this is grammatically incorrect, but I have forgotten so much) "De donde esta usted?" Where are you from? I didn't know what to say...was I from Colorado because I lived there? Was I from Wisconsin because I was born there? Was I from New York because that's where I came from before I came to Colorado? I chose the latter..."Nueva York." I don't know if that was right. Where am I from now? When asked that question in Madison, I say "Colorado." When asked that question outside of Madison, I say "Madison." Wherever I am, I always feel like I'm from somewhere else. I don't think I can ever call a place my hometown. I don't even like that word...it brings up images of heartland rock (little pink houses...ain't that america...ick) and towns of population 2,000 and grain elevators and cruising...kind of like the place Stan grew up in...er, should I say "fled."
Monday, July 23, 2001
I made a trip to MicroAge computers today and ordered myself a brand smacking new 733 MHZ G4...the new one that Apple just announced last week. Hopefully this will solve my severe lack of power/speed/memory problem. The thing is 500 MHZ faster than my current desktop! Should be here some time next week.
I'm glad we have a place like MicroAge here, it was so easy to deal with, none of the noise and hassle of a CompUSA.
I love the way our new bedroom is coming along. It still needs the headboard, but can't install it yet because Big Sur made the thing it rests on too tall, so Stan has to cut it down to size. We looked at curtain rods, but they were either way too expensive or way too cheapo-looking, so we are going to make our own with dowel rods (stained to match the woodwork in the room), glass cabinet knobs for the ends and assorted other hardware.
Stan pulled up the carpeting in the room of our former bedroom. There's some nice wood floors, but it's painted grey at the edges. Huh? It looks like at some point in history someone removed the wood trim too. I will never cease to be amazed by some people's taste in "modernization."
OK, before I get the abstinence-only league coming after me, there's nothing wrong with being a virgin at 34 if you haven't found anyone worthy. What I find strange is when you've been going out with someone, you're planning on getting married, but because of some outmoded superstitious religious belief, you refuse to engage in sex until after that magical moment when the Priest, Pope, God et al say "OK, now you must go forth and PROCREATE."
And then it's only for making replicas of you.
I am very angry right now about a personal family matter. Don't want to go into details, but doesn't charity start at home? Shouldn't one be charitable with one's own children before one is charitable with one's grandchildren? Especially if being charitable with said grandchild is enabling that grandchild's parent to be irresponsible, while one's own other child is struggling not due to irresponsibility but on the contrary, due to a feeling of responsibility, career, and bettering themselves that gets them into financial straits?
Sometimes I just want disassociate myself from everyone.
Oh, yeah, and what about paying thousands of dollars for a wedding for your $fee-male child while your male child gets nothing? What's with that? (Friend Tim gets nothing except maybe a tenspot in the mail every once in a while, while his twin sis gets a $10,000 wedding...Catholic, of course.)
You know, if I had been a spoiled little princess bitch myself maybe I'd feel it'd work itself out in the wash. I would have gotten stuff my husband never got to make up for his lack. We're even. But I never did. I didn't get a car, my parents only paid a few hundred dollars a semester for my undergrad ed, I paid for my grad ed myself (via student loans), I didn't get a bigass wedding...my mom kvetched about the $500 catering at our combo art show/reception which was the ONLY cost for our wedding. A $500 wedding...canya beat that one folks? Canya? Huh? And she kvetched because they were all Stan's relatives eating the food since our family doesn't have any relatives! So, expecting my husband would marry a dowaried princess bitch, they give him nothing, unaware that he wouldn't marry a princess bitch, so we're both stuck with nothing.
Well, dad-ee-o, you better thank your lucky stars your offsprog is a damn atheist because The Catholic Church sure would've wanted more than $500 for a wedding reception had I followed YOUR wishes of a proper church wedding. (Can you imagine? Hey, maybe I should've opted for the Catholic Church wedding...maybe once he realized how much it would cost it would temper his fanatacism a bit.)
Geeezzzzuuuuuusssss!!!!!!! Ferfreakssake damn damn damn freakin' relatives and they wonder why we don't want to raise any humans of our own.
OK, I had a good cry. I'm better now.
You know what's weird...speaking of Tim and his twin sis...when she got married (at the age of 34, I think), she was a virgin. I cannot imagine. I mean I can understand waiting for the right guy like I did, but remaining a virgin until your wedding night? On the other hand, I find it unbelievable all the screwing around teenagers do too. I mean, whatever happened to just plain common sense sex? You know? Waiting to have sex until you're serious about the person but not being into abstinence either?
See this is the problem I'm really having with society. People are such extremists. Either they're taking abstinence vows or they're having gang bangs on webcams. And the abstincence kids are probably more obsessed with sex than the exhibitionist gang bangers. That's all they talk about (sex), they admit it themselves (I saw a documentary on the movement the other day). Seems like some people have a severe gap in their life if all they can talk about (abstinence kids) is sex, or all they can do is sex (gang bangers). What a dull life.
This whole world is just screwed up. Earthlings.
Had a weird dream last night. I was at my parent's house and IRL their neighbors in back have renters living in their basement. In my dream, Tim was living there. IRL, the house is a smaller ranch-style, but in my dream, the basement was vast with lots of different apartment rooms. It was also sort of funky and had sort of a '70s New York ambience. I go down the stairs and look around for Tim's apartment, but didn't know which one it was. There were a lot of bicycles laying around in the common room. I start knocking on doors to see if Tim lives in any of the apartments. Then Woody Allen (circa the early 70s) appears and we start talking and sort of flirting. I realize I really like him and find him sexy. IRL I love Woody's movies, but don't find him sexy, although I suppose I could if I were to know him in person and he was younger.
Oy...still thinking about how parents indulge their $fee-male children...still thinking of dysfunctional society. The other day I was out with Stan, a friend, and a friend of that friend (ambiguous, aren't I?). Biolgoically and chronologically, Stan and I are old enough to be the parents of friend-of-friend (FOF). That's weird in and of itself, but we start talking about the coolest things our moms ever did, and personally, I think this is pretty cool of my mom: She stood in line to buy me Rolling Stones tickets back in 1978 (of course I had to pay for them) because I had to go to school that day. I mean, I think that's pretty damn cool. She was the hit of the ticket line, let me tell you. But no, not realizing how TRULY cool that act my mom did was (allowing me to pursue my high school education without cutting class while still letting me attend The Stones concert that as a 16 year old I couldn't live without), FOF had to one-up me. No, her mom was cooler because her mom let her have lots of alcohol to drink at some high school party or something and instead of cutting off the supply, let her indulge her liver 'til she barfed up a storm. Yeah, that's real cool.
Sunday, July 22, 2001
Dream: I was being held hostage by some guy. There was another woman with me, I don't know who she was or our connection. He wasn't treating us cruelly, but we were his hotages or kept slaves nonetheless. I had a kitten that was about 8 weeks old that I had rescued from some bad condition. It was very cute...a silver and black tabby...really distinct stripes.
It is incredibly hot here. We went "swimming" in Lake Michigan yesterday. Fortunately, I didn't get burned...reapplied suntan lotion like there was no tomorrow. It was such a nice beach near Racine...wonderful sand, clear water, not polluted at all like the Lake Michigan of yore. Next time we go maybe we'll get a motel or something. The long drive back to Madison really wipes one out. I could barely stand after I got back home.
Stan said a while ago that it hurts to throw up. I thought that odd. It doesn't hurt me when I vomit. Sure, puking is one of my least favorite activities in the world. But when I do, it's just a matter of feeling miserable and vomitting. But there is no pain. Then when we were in the lake, I got a splash of water down my sinuses. I was in great pain. I am always in great pain when I get water in my nose or through my ears. This is the reason I never learned how to swim. This has been what held me back. I don't have a fear of water...I love water.... I'd like to spend every day at a lake. But there is something about the water in the sinuses that incapacitates me for about fifteen minutes after that. I think it must be hard for someone who does not have that problem to understand. Just like it's hard for me to understand what's so painful about barfing. Gross, annoying, miserable, yes, but painful, no. Maybe I've just barfed so much in my life that I don't feel it anymore, but I doubt that. Even when I was little I don't remember any pain. My grandmother said that when she gave birth to my mom, she had no pain. And this was a home delivery with a midwife during the Depression! I simply cannot imagine... me and my dreadful cramps, I've always feared childbirth would be excruciatingly unbearable, which I will never know. It's so weird how we all process pain differently.
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