Effortless Effervescence

Pssssst! There’s more Quick Takes over at Conversion Diary. Check ‘em out!

Take 1: Today my company is having a fundraising picnic to benefit The ALS Association. For those of you that don’t know, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease) is “a progressive, fatal, neurodegenerative disease caused by the degeneration of … the nerve cells in the central nervous system that control voluntary muscle movement.” I’ve personally known two different people who were diagnosed with ALS; one was an incredibly talented and kind man who passed away two years ago and the other is a young husband and father - my age! with two little kids! - who is still battling the disease. It sounds trite to say that these two wonderful people don’t deserve such horrible suffering, but it’s true.

The ALS Association’s mission includes not just medical research but support and assistance for ALS patients and their families. If you have the resources, would you consider donating to the ALS Association?

Take 2: A church in a bar? Yes, Virginia, it does exist:

[Kathy] Price, who grew up in her father’s street ministry and coffee house, said she watched her dad minister to the homeless and the lost, joking that the “apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” A few years ago, Price said she became obsessed with the Catholic Saint Katherine of Sienna, a 14th Century figure known for preaching in pubs, and felt moved by the Holy Spirit do to the same thing.

I think it’s brilliant. I have often said that Jesus met people where THEY were. He didn’t sit in a tidy building with mauve carpet and oak pews, waiting for folksto show up at 10 a.m. on Sunday morning, in their best clothes with their hair combed just so. It’s become clear in the past, oh, half a century, that lots of people are interested in God and spirituality but totally disgusted with organized religion. Now, we could argue about how it’s unfair of these people to judge all Christians based on the bad behavior of a few priests and pastors and televangelists, and we could say that following Jesus is all about going outside of your comfort zone, and good golly, if people can’t be bothered to get up early on a weekend, how will they ever “die to sin” and “pick up their cross”? Those arguments ignore the reality that some people have been so damaged by religion that they just CAN’T meet God within the four walls of a local church - but they want to meet God. I believe that God “gets” that, that he’s providing new and different ways for people to get to know him.

Take 3: Has anyone read The Lost Symbol yet? Is it any good? I really enjoyed The Da Vinci Code (though the movie was a bit of a disappointment) and I thought Angels and Demons was really good, too (though slow at parts). I’m not sure I’m willing to pay full hardcover prices for the next installment in the saga, but if someone tells me that The Lost Symbol rocks like a Geo Metro driving 70 mph through a Nor’easter, I might be persuaded.

Take 4: On Tuesday, Jen at Conversion Diary posted an open call for folks who don’t celebrate Halloween to explain why. This is a touchy subject for me, because I was the daughter of someone who didn’t celebrate Halloween, and at age 30, I’m STILL a little annoyed about it. (Yes, I know I have issues, thank you.) I left a looooong comment about what it was like for me to be the only kid in my public school class to come in to school on November 1 without a big bag of candy, and it got me thinking about how parents sometimes make the mistake of expecting their children to become defenders of a faith that the kids don’t fully embrace or even understand.

Stay with me here: Becoming a person of faith (no matter what faith that is) requires a lot of thought, suffering through crises and recovering from crises, spending time on the mountain, communing with God, examining arguments, cycling through belief and disbelief, and eventually coming to a place where you feel like maybe you kind of know who you are and what you stand for. I think that some Christian parents (I can’t speak for other religions, as I haven’t discussed childrearing and religious instruction with very many Buddhist or Hindu parents) want to raise children who are “strong in their faith” but the parents’ interpretation of that is “never, ever questioning the dogma I’ve given them or straying from the path I’ve laid out for them.”

The problem is that no child will ever truly have a strong faith in ANYTHING if he doesn’t get a chance to question EVERYTHING. Questioning is hard for the questioner; how much harder it must be for the questioner’s mom and dad. We don’t want our kids to make bad choices. We don’t want them to reject the faith that means everything to us. But we have to let them dissect that faith and think about it critically if we want them to be able to believe it, and someday, defend it.

I don’t think I’m done thinking about this. I’m a little bit fascinated. Your thoughts?

Take 5: Remember how cute and teeny little Miss Anastasia was? Well, I took her to the vet last night and she now weighs 26.8 lbs. In the ten weeks we’ve had her, she’s more than quadrupled in size! The kicker is that I had her in the vet’s office LAST Thursday to be weighed so I knew which level of heartworm preventive to get for her, and at that time she only weighed 22.3 lbs. That’s right, y’all, she gained four and a half pounds in seven days.

She’s still cute as a button, though. And I found out something last night: those no-pull harnesses? I thought they were a gimmick, but they’re NOT. Ana was soooooo much easier to walk in her harness… though getting the harness ON her was a challenge

Take 6: To prove once again that not-so-old adage, “If you can think of it, it’s on the internet,” I present to you the crochet pattern for a bunny rabbit beer cozy. No, I am not lying to you.

Take 7: I’m having a baby! I debated about whether I should share this news on a public blog post. I mean, I’m only six weeks in, and I wondered if the entire internet needed to know my reproductive updates just yet. I thought, “What if something happens?” Well, if something happened I’d be really sad but I’d probably learn a few things and knowing me, I’d want to share those lessons with… well, the entire internet. And I want to share things with you now, like all the nifty baby websites I’ve found and the cool products I can’t wait to try out. Most of all, I just want to say: WOW. I’m going to be a mom. That thought is so big and so wonderful that I can’t keep it to just myself. It’s so wonderful that I kinda have to tell… the entire internet.

Photo credit: take 4 and take 7.

The Smell of a Flower

Thing One: This photo by Edwin Dalorzo; I love how intent this little girl is on enjoying the smell of that half-wilted little weed of a flower.

Thing Two: We’re less than a week from Halloween - which means we’re kind of officially in the Holiday Season. YAY! I love Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year. I love the chilly air. Christmas carols. Claymation Christmas specials like Rudolph and Santa Claus is Coming to Town. And PRESENTS! This year I hope to make all of my presents. We’ll see if that actually happens.

Thing Three: A couple of weeks ago, I backed into a Ford Explorer. You see, I’m driving my husband’s truck lately instead of my VW New Beetle, and though I’m getting fairly good at navigating parking lots in a vehicle twice as long as I’m used to driving, I’m not perfect. Hence, bumping the Explorer - and I left a little scratch and ding under its driver’s side brake light. I felt like a total dumbass, and I considered for a second driving away without leaving a note, but then I remembered my respect-bordering-on-superstition of karma, or the law of sowing and reaping, or punishment of sin, or whatever you want to call it. I like to think of it in positive terms: “It’s ALWAYS worth it to do The Right Thing.” (Of course, sometimes The Right Thing isn’t easily discerned, but that’s another blog post.) So I dug around in my purse for a pen and found a pencil, wrote three drafts of an “I’m sorry, please call me to exchange insurance info” note onto scraps of paper from my journal, wrapped the final draft in a plastic bag (because it was drizzly that day and I didn’t want the note to become wet and unreadable) and only then did I drive away.

The owner of the truck called me on Friday. He said it’s an older vehicle and he doesn’t want to bother repairing it, but he thanked me several times for leaving a note. Of course, people aren’t always so nice when we’re honest with them; in fact, sometimes they take advantage of us. The scratch and ding that I thought I’d left could have already been on the Explorer, and the owner could have used my insurance to take care of something he himself had done years before. But he didn’t. And I’m always glad when my faith in Doing The Right Thing is rewarded

Thing Four: I went to a friend’s baby shower yesterday. This friend and her husband have been trying over a year to have a baby, and have been through all sorts of trials in the process. I know they’re grateful that their prayers for a child have finally been answered; grateful for the friends and family that have been through this long, scary, emotional process with them; grateful for the amazing things modern medicine can do. Most of all, I’m bet they’re grateful they didn’t give up in the middle of the process, when they were discouraged and hurting. Sometimes the difference between an unanswered prayer and an answered one is just waiting a little longer.

Thing Four-and-a-Half: This same friend really liked the gift I gave her - my very first crochet project. It was quite imperfect, but beautiful. (Like all of us!)

Thing Five: Ben & Jerry’s Half Baked Frozen Yogurt. OM NOM NOMALICIOUS.

Thing Six: My stepson, who is going to be Hulk for Halloween. Imagining that in my head? Will make me smile for a week.

Thing Seven: Our animals. In know I say this all the time, but I love, love, love our animals. They’re so cute I melt every time I look at ‘em.

Bonus Thing I’m Thankful For: My husband, who makes me feel like I’m the best thing that ever happened to him.

Sadly, Munchies Monday just didn’t happen yesterday because your favorite blogellectual was ill. I’m still not feeling 100%, but I think I’m on the upswing.

I don’t have much of substance to say today, except that as of this morning, I have NOT smoked 1,000 cigarettes. That’s right, y’all, 2 months, 3 weeks and 10 hours of non-smoking translates into 1,000 cigarettes not smoked, and more than $260 saved. I still can’t believe I’ve made it this far, but I am so, so glad that I decided to quit. Yes, again - but you know what? Sometimes it takes several tries to get it right

(Normally Fridays are the day to share my Seven Quick Takes, but this week I have something on my mind that can’t be stuffed into a “quick take.” I do recommend that you take a look at the SQT posts featured on Conversion Diary today!)

Have you ever had the feeling that someone just doesn’t like you? I get that feeling a lot, partly because some people DON’T like me (it’s shocking, I know) and partly because I was kind of an outcast as a child, so I always assume that when a situation becomes a little awkward, I’m doing something wrong. (Which is rather self-centered and yes, I’m aware that if I would just stop obsessing about it I’d probably do just fine, but that’s like telling a tiny hairless dog to just stop shivering. It’s in our nature, okay?) My “effortlessly effervescent” personality can, in unfamiliar and stressful situations, become loud, abrasive and domineering, so it’s no surprise that sometimes when folks first meet me they’re a little put off. Usually once they get to know me (and I remind myself to dial it down, for Pete’s sake) we end up just adoring each other.

Then there are the folks whose personalities just don’t mesh with mine, or who, for one reason or another just don’t like me. Or I don’t like them. I know this is okay - we don’t have to be BFFs with everyone we meet - but it still unnerves me a little bit. I feel like I should get along with everybody, even when the getting along is a Herculean effort. And I know that many other people have been in this situation - actually, I’m sure we ALL have! - but I still often feel as though I’m the only socially awkward loser out there.

The reason I bring this up is that I was feeling as if the leader of my Bible study just didn’t like me. I mean, we could make small talk, but every once in awhile during the group discussions, she’d give me a look or say something that made me think, “Uh oh, I must be hogging the conversation.” or “Uh oh, that comment must have been really shallow/mean/prideful/stupid.” And I’d resolve to sit back quietly throughout the rest of the evening. But I don’t sit back quietly very well! And so I was starting to feel as if I was in the Wrong Place. What was I thinking joining this study group? I’m not ready to be hanging out with Real Christians yet!

Well, this past Wednesday, God arranged it so that the group was just me and the leader. The other three attendees had emergency doctor’s appointments or whatever. I have to admit that at first I PANICKED. I was like, “Oh my God, I’m stuck for two hours with someone who doesn’t like me. She thinks I’m a heretic, and a loud obnoxious one at that. She’s judging me. Oh my God, SAVE ME.” But under the panic was a small voice that said, “This is a God thing. You’re supposed to be alone together.”

So we settled in with our notebooks and coffee and cookies - and she let her dogs out of their room so they could curl up with us - and watched the DVD that goes along with our Bible study. When the DVD session was over, we began discussing the topics it covered… then wandered into related subjects… and started sharing very openly about our lives, our past mistakes, our fears for the future, what we’re currently struggling with. We found out that we have a whole lot more in common than we’d realized, and we encouraged each other without judgement. It was a holy time, beautifully set apart just so this woman and I could get to know each other beyond the facades we presented at church.

The small coincidence of our one-on-one evening is just one of many small coincidences that God has worked in my life. In these little God-incidences (as I’ve heard them called) I learn that things aren’t always what they seem, that God’s got a plan, and most of all, I am reminded again of how much God loves me.

I used to say, years ago, when I often counseled and prayed people who were hurting, that when someone poured out their heart to me, trusted me with the darkest parts of their soul or their brightest hopes and dreams, I felt as if they had just handed me a million dollars. I was always humbled and honored that anyone would feel safe enough with me to trust me with the treasures of their heart. And this week, for the first time in a very long time, I felt that way again.

Photo credit.

First up: FOOD PORN! If you like reading about food, check out the The Bitten Word. If you just like looking at food, check out their Flickr photostream.

YUMMEH.*

~~~~~

An oldie but a goodie: Caring for Your Introvert.

Do you know someone who needs hours alone every day? Who loves quiet conversations about feelings or ideas, and can give a dynamite presentation to a big audience, but seems awkward in groups and maladroit at small talk? Who has to be dragged to parties and then needs the rest of the day to recuperate? Who growls or scowls or grunts or winces when accosted with pleasantries by people who are just trying to be nice?

If so, do you tell this person he is “too serious,” or ask if he is okay? Regard him as aloof, arrogant, rude? Redouble your efforts to draw him out?

If you answered yes to these questions, chances are that you have an introvert on your hands—and that you aren’t caring for him properly.

Many of my best friends through the years were introverts (and, oddly, all but ONE were left-handed - sorry, but I find that fascinating), and as an extrovert, I was often frustrated by how “weird” they were. The man I lived with between husbands was an extreme introvert, and the differences in our approach to and affection for social situations was likely one of the main things that killed our relationship. (If I recall correctly, he was the one who first introduced me to this article. I, clearly, didn’t get the hint.) As I get older, wiser, and more mellow, I’m a little less antagonistic toward my beloved introverts. (I think.)

Think you know the facts about hunger in America? Take the quiz, you might be surprised at what you learn.

Dictionary-dot-com’s Word of the Day for Tuesday, October 13, 2009 was triskaidekaphobia, fear of the number 13. At first I thought, gee, they should have saved that for Friday the 13th… and then it occurred to me that there might be a specific word for fear of Friday the 13th. And there is! (Of course, in the net-haunts I used to frequent, most folks LOVED Friday the 13th.)

There’s also a word for the fear of the number 666, a phobia I was introduced to years ago when I lived at 666 Smith Street. When I told a friend my address, she gasped and shrank back in her seat. The only thing missing from her melodrama was the smelling salts and fluttering handkerchief.

“Has anything… WEIRD… ever happened at your house?”

“Nooooo…” I said, truly confused. “It’s just a number.” I don’t think I was even aware, at the age of 12, of the superstitions surrounding the number - but that’s because I led such a sheltered life and rarely watched anything resembling a horror movie.

Years later, while working the drive-thru at McDonald’s, I had a customer who refused to pay for an order that totalled $6.66. He added on two-apple-pies-for-a-dollar, just to avoid making a deal with the devil.

Several of the 800 numbers associated with the hotel company I used to work for had “666″ somewhere in the sequence. I remember thinking, “Doesn’t that put a damper on their sales? Some people won’t call a business if there’s a 666 or a 13 in the phone number.” But the company seemed to fair well enough. In the interest of being discreet (and not screwing up my employment references), I will kindly keep my opinion about whether the Satanic connotations are warranted.

Why am I so obsessed with 666 today? Maybe because I started watching Rosemary’s Baby this morning. I like watching classic horror movies during the month of October to get “jazzed up” for Halloween. And since, as I mentioned before, I didn’t see many horror movies as a kid, I have to play catch up with my cultural references. Next on my list: The Omen.**

As an aside: Good Lord, Mia Farrow is a beautiful woman. I mean, GOOD LORD.

Watching Rosemary’s Baby makes me think about the past and present scandals surrounding Roman Polanski, as well as Farrow’s highly publicized split from Woody Allen in the 1990’s. (I was a People magazine addict at the time, so I remember reading all about it and being utterly horrified.) As an adult, I find both men’s stories intriguing not just for the prurient subject matter, but because of how quickly and fully the general public passed judgement on them, and because of how deeply intertwined good and evil are in human nature.

Many people have dismissed Polanski’s actions with the phrase, “But he’s an artist.” What that means, I’m not sure. Perhaps that creative people are more likely to be a bit disturbed? I won’t argue that in the least. That art excuses sexual predation? Some people must believe that, or otherwise neither of these men would still have a career. Outside of all those tricky-icky moral arguments, though, is the most amazing thing: even really bad people do really wonderful, beautiful things. Or is it that very good people do very awful things? I don’t know.***

J. Lee Grady’s Fire in my Bones is the only Charismatic/Evangelical/Fundamentalist Christian blog that I regularly read and enjoy, because he always tempers his criticism of secular culture with grace and humility. He’s the kind of person I can “agree to disagree” with. However, his column this week about polygamy unsettles me a bit. He’s using the same marriage-is-for-one-man-and-one-woman-only argument that’s used countless times gay marriage, while completely ignoring one very important point. The Bible does not consistently portray the one-man-one-woman covenant marriage as the only option.

Now, I understand that the issues of gay marriage and polyamory can’t really be discussed together like appleas and apples. I also understand that folks who believe it’s important to hold up heterosexual marriage as the best practice and the only legally sanctioned one have many different reasons for feeling as they do, and that theologically, it can’t be reduced to just “the Bible tells me so.” For that reason, when a leading thinker and speaker in the Christian blogospher uses that very same, very thin, argument, I think we should call him out! Please, Mr. Grady, give me a better reason for opposing plural marriage.

Speaking of plural marriage, I think I need to start working through the seasons of Big Love. Thank goodness for Blockbuster Online!

* Someone recently told me that Food Porn = Pregnant Lady Torture, so I feel kind of bad about posting this, but… well, LOOK AT IT. I can’t NOT post pics of stuff that yummeh!
** The original, of course, because remakes usually, well, they usually SUCK.
*** You may remember that we’ve talked about this before.

Y’know, I actually don’t like David Bowie all that much, but the pun was just there for the taking…

New theme at Effortless Effervescence, and probably some other changes ahead. If you hate it or love it or “eh” it, lemme know, okay? Thanks, bebes

photo credit

My good friend Kerry was over this past Saturday (as is becoming our weekly custom) to help me with a new crochet project and with making/eating dinner. It’s a win-win situation for both of us: she gets a big kitchen to work in, I get help with cooking. Brilliant, right? Well, Kerry pointed out this weekend that our general approach to cooking together never involves an actual recipe, just tossing a bunch of yummy ingredients together, applying heat as necessary, and enjoying the results.

Now, one of the things I’m trying to do in my online life (as well as my offline life, but that’s a bit harder because I don’t think before I speak - at least, not as often or as well as I think before I type) is to greatly reduce the amount of profanity in my daily vocabulary, so for that reason, I won’t be completely renaming my Monday features. However, in honor of Kerry, I will present a recipe for something we made last week, and I will call it:

2 to 2.5 lbs. of russet potatoes, peeled (if you care to - I never peel potatoes because I’m lazy) and diced
6 eggs
1/2 lb. prosciutto, thickly sliced
1 10 to 12 oz. package of frozen peas
1 cup mayonnaise (give or take - depending on how mayo-ish you like your potato salad)
3 Tbsp. yellow mustard (such as French’s) OR 1 Tbsp. ground mustard powder
1 tsp. sugar
salt and pepper to taste

Bring 2 to 3 quarts of salted water to a boil in a large stockpot. Once water comes to a boil, add potatoes, reduce heat, and simmer until potatoes are fork-tender but NOT mushy, about 7 minutes. Drain potatoes in colander and run cold water over them for a minute or so, then place colander refrigerator.

While boiling cooking the potatoes, bring a few cups of water to boil in medium saucepan. When water reaches a slow, steady boil, reduce heat slightly and gently place eggs, still in shell, into the water. (I use a slotted spoon to lower the eggs into the pan.) Boil for 12 minutes, then remove saucepan from heat. Run cold water over the eggs in the pan for a minute or so, then gently peel each egg under running water. Chop the eggs finely and put them into a large mixing bowl; place mixing bowl in refrigerator to chill.

While potatoes and eggs are chilling in the fridge, cook the peas according to package directions and dice the prosciutto. (I should add that you might want to buy a whole pound of prosciutto - half of which will be gobbled up by family members as they watch you cook. And, of course, the chefs must taste each ingredient to make sure it’s the best possible quailty.)

Now you must to assemble the salad: add potatoes to the eggs in the mixing bowl, along with the mustard, mayonnaise, prosciutto, sugar, salt and pepper. Mix thoroughly, then carefully stir in peas (so they don’t become smashed and mushy). Then chill the entire salad for at least a half hour more (or cover and store for three or four days, if you can resist it that long) and serve garnished with paprika and fresh parsley.

It was Kerry’s idea to add the peas and prosciutto to my traditional potato salad recipe, and I have to say that I think it’s the best idea she’s EVER had. Normally I put lots of sweet relish in my potato salad, but I don’t think this version needs it. Enjoy!

Oh, and a note: it occurred to me as I was writing this recipe up that it might come across as slightly micro-managerial and elementary, since I am telling you how to boil eggs, for Pete’s sake. But I didn’t even know how to properly hard-boil eggs until a few years ago, when my good friend Dan instructed me on the fine art of egg salad. I’m sure there are some folks out there who are similarly unschooled, and an “elementary” recipe such as this might be just what you need to get over your fear of the stove

photo credit

Jen’s not hosting Seven Quick Takes this week because she’s offline, presumably reconnecting with the real world. We’ll see when she reports back next week if her net-fast achieved the anticipated result. I really enjoy the Seven Quick Takes tradition, so I’m gonna do it anyway. And since several of my seven takes deal with an alcohol of some sort, I thought I’d throw together a different banner for today’s post.

Take 1: Yesterday was my father-in-law’s birthday, so we joined him and my mother-in-law at The Lucky Star, located in Virginia Beach’s Town Center Westin, for dinner. The Lucky Star is one of those upscale restaurants that has only six entrees on its menu, not one of which costs less than $20. It’s also one of those restaurants where each glass of wine costs what one bottle would “on the outside;” in fact, one of the selections on their reserve list was an $800 bottle of Australian shiraz, vintage 2004. (One of the lovely ladies at The Lucky Star informed me that it’s quite a famous wine - I’ve never heard of it, but that’s probably because I usually drink $8 bottles of Australian shiraz, vintage 2007. Yummeh.

Anyway, I had two classes of bargain cab with the blackened scallops and goat cheese ravioli, which was beautifully presented, spicy and filling. My mother-in-law had the Caesar salad, which was probably the most beautiful salad I’ve ever seen in my life: a head of romaine sliced in half and presented on a long rectangular plate, sprinkled with croutons and cheese and drizzled with a creamy dressing. I should have taken a picture of it. I should have had my picture taken WITH it. My husband had the 12 ounce sirloin and the same wine I did; his father paired his sirloin with three martinis, Churchill-style.

After dinner, our lovely waitress (who had been constantly confused and harrassed by the guest of honor, who loves to “educate” the server when we’re out to dinner) brought a complimentary “Chocolate Foreplay” dessert with a single candle in it. My father-in-law blew out the candle and took one bit of the dessert, then passed it over to his wife. She was kind enough to share it with me, and I regret that I can describe it only as heaven wrapped in ganache. Both of the menfolk had port wine for their after-dinner treat.

In all, it was an enjoyable dinner, and though I’m certain the chef’s expertise was worth every penny, I’m certain I could have found something just as delicious in my one kitchen for a fraction of the price. I am also certain that I’ll enjoy the wine I pour for myself this evening more delicious than that I was served last night at a 300% markup.

Take 2: As you can probably tell, I and my family enjoy our spirits. That’s why I bought a bottle of the 7 Deadly Zins and 7 Heavenly Chards for his birthday gift. I will be completely honest with you: when buying wine, I am seduced by pretty labels and clever names. That’s why one of my favorite wines happens to be Pinot Evil. I mean, yeah, it tastes great, but that’s only part of its charm.

Take 3: Now, let’s have a serious moment. I started exercising again about a week ago. I’d hardly call it a habit yet; I haven’t lost any weight and there’s no noticeable difference in my muscle tone. However, I already feel better physically and I feel better about my body. I don’t think that’s a coincidence - when we care for ourselves, we care more about ourselves. Ya know?

Take 4: More seriousness, sorry.

Oh, Victoria’s Secret. Bad form.

Casey is 19. Casey is battling a form of bone cancer called osteosarcoma, which metastasized into her lungs and right shoulder. She was scheduled to have her right leg and part of her pelvis amputated in mid-September because the chemotherapy made her leg so brittle it fractured just from walking on it.

In August, Casey entered the Victoria’s Secret Love Your Body contest. The prize was airfare and a trip to New York, spending money, a spa visit and a shopping spree at the Victoria’s Secret flagship store in New York. It was a whim on her part, a dream.

Family, friends and random strangers–like me–who heard Casey’s story rallied round and voted for her. People, including me, wanted her to have this trip. Over 26,000 votes later and this courageous young woman had won the contest. She was thrilled. All her supporters were thrilled. Casey was going to get her trip.

Except Victoria’s Secret, who acknowledged that all 26K of Casey’s votes were real and genuine took the win away from her. They gave her a $500 gift card as a consolation prize. This is where it gets tricky and interesting.

Please read the whole story. I’m not going to tell you what to do - like boycott Victoria’s Secret or their affiliates - because it’s none of my business where you buy your brassieres. But I do want to give Casey’s story value and power, which is why I’m passing it on to you.

Take 5: Okay, back to the fun and frivolity and drinking. Please take a moment to visit my friend Professor Woodchuck’s blog, appropriately entitled Walking Brews, where yesterday she recalled her visit to the Raffles Hotel in Singapore and all the interesting people she and her father “met” there. Professor Woodchuck and I have known each other since we were in second grade and bonded over an entirely different addictive substance and as we have matured grown up gotten older, we’ve bonded once again over our love for America’s Oldest Brewery.

Good times.

Take 6: I just found out that one of my friends has MRSA. This is the same friend who has endometriosis, interstitial cystitis, and PCOS. I swear, some folks can’t catch a break. I found out she had MRSA when I called her husband and invited them over for a night of drinking and debauchery (see how I can right back around to the alcohol? I’m a brilliant little monster) and he said they couldn’t cuz she’s sick, but maybe tomorrow when she’s feeling better. To which I say: y’all better take a bath in a different kind of alcohol before you come into our house! (My husband’s had MRSA before, and has a rather large scar to prove it, so he’s slightly gerb-a-phobic. Rightly so, I suppose.)

Take 7: Now, lest you think I’m just a wino with no depth or soul, let me talk to you about my volunteering discernment dilemma. Last week I filled out an application for a local hospice care program, but I decided not to sign and submit it yet. I wanted to sit on it for a little while and ask God to make it clear to me whether or not this was something I should do. (Because I am so impulsive by nature, I am trying lately to take my time and think before I act or speak.)

Well, I think God’s given me a pretty clear indication that working in hospice might be the thing for me. Why? Because I keep getting “pings” in my heart. That might not make any sense to you - in fact, it might sound downright fruity - but let me try to explain before you write me off as completely cuckoo!

Here’s an example: the entrance to my neighborhood is right next to a funeral home, and sometimes as I’m coming home from work or a friend’s house, I notice that the parking lot is packed for a viewing or service, and I feel this tug on my heart, like, “Gosh, I wish I could be there and be of some help.” At first I thought I was just being morbid and busybodyish, but then I thought, no, that could be a “God thing.” Then yesterday, when I heard that an acquaintance’s husband is dying of cancer, I again felt that tug, that desire to help. Keep in mind that I’ve never even met this man, but I wanted to reach out to him and his family.

I believe that God impresses on our hearts the needs he wants us to meet. This is why some people are moved to tears by orphans in Somalia and others are kept awake at night thinking about the homeless in their own town. The fact that I am feeling drawn to minister to people who are in the last stages of terminal illness - as well as their family and friends - says to me that it’s a God thing.

So here’s where we get into the audience participation part of today’s seven quick takes: How do you go about making a Big Important Decision^TM? I know that those of you who are spiritual likely pray and seek the counsel of other spiritual types. And those of you who aren’t all touchy-feely-spooky-Jesusy might make a list of pros & cons and weigh each one. But what happens when your friends and family are pretty divided on their opinions of the situation, or when the benefits and drawbacks of your available choices are pretty evenly stacked? How do you get from the painfully tentative “what should I do?” to stepping out confidently?

It was my turn to bring the snacks to Bible study last Wednesday, and since I didn’t have any spare cash to go out and get chips and dip and fancy store-bought cookies, I whipped up some yummy food at home.

It’s a good thing that I just happened to have all this stuff laying around - the results were yummyful!

1 lb. pasta (I used mini farfalle, because they’re so cute)
1 3.5-oz package sliced pepperoni
1 8-oz can sliced olives
1 15-oz can petite diced tomatoes
1 cup Italian, Caesar or vinaigrette dressing
1 cup (about 8 oz.) shredded mozarella cheese

Prepare pasta according to directions on box. While pasta is cooking, cut the pepperoni slices into quarters and toss with olives, tomatoes and dressing in a large bowl (do not drain the juices from the cans of olives and tomatoes - just dump it all into the bowl). When pasta is done cooking, drain it and rinse with COLD water; toss with pepperoni and dressing mixture. Place the bowl in the refrigerator for a few minutes to chill, then stir in the shredded cheese. (You don’t want the cheese to melt into the hot pasta - trust me, it becomes a big mess!) Salt and pepper to taste, then cover the bowl and chill until you’re ready to serve your delicious Pizza Pasta Salad!

I first stumbled onto this recipe when looking for a low-fat dessert to bring to a work get-together. Since two of my coworkers are dieting, I thought it’d be cruel to make something so loaded in calories and fat that they couldn’t even try it! I’ve made this delicious carrot bread twice and tweaked it slightly each time. I’ll probably keep experimenting with this recipe until I get it exactly the way I like it, but until then, have my in-progress version of “I Can’t Believe It’s Low Fat” Carrot Raisin Bread.

1.5 cups grated carrot
1 cup raisins
1 egg
1/3 cup white sugar
1/3 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce
1/2 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 heaping teaspoon apple pie or pumpkin pie spice
1/4 teaspoon salt

Mix together carrots, eggs, sugars, apple sauce, milk and vanilla. Stir in dry ingredients until just blended, then add raisins. Pour into a greased 9-by-5-inch loaf pan and bake at 350 degrees until the top is golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the middle of the loaf comes out clean (about an hour). Cool and cut into 18 1/2″ slices.

If I were making this for a friend who’s watching their sugar intake, I’d use Splenda instead of the white sugar, but the recipe as-is isn’t very high calorie. If I wanted to transform the bread into a vegan treat, I’d sub another 1/2 cup of applesauce for the egg and milk. All in all, a super yummy, super healthy, super versatile little dessert bread. Oh, I ought to see what it’s like with dates and chopped, dried apricots! Mmmm….

It’s that time again! TGIF, y’all. By the way, if you’re looking for new and interesting blogs to read, be sure to check out the other quick takes over at Conversion Diary.

Take 1: My cat Fluffy took a shower with me this morning. Okay, not really WITH me, but she was in the tub licking the water off the shower curtain when I came into the bathroom to get ready for work. It doesn’t matter whether the water in the kitties’ bowl (or even the doggies’) is fresh and clean and cold, Fluffy still wants to drink out of the toilet (and leave wet pawprints on the seat) or from the tub. Anyway, she leapt onto the side of the tub when I turned on the water for my shower and sat there, between the decorative and the functional shower curtains as I scrubbed and shaved. Luckily, I’m not one of those people who gets freaked out when animals see me in various states of undress.

Take 2: Of course this cat-in-the-shower story deserves an LOLcat, and the re-telling of ANOTHER cat-in-the-shower story. My dearly departed Siamese, Oatmeal (that’s her below and to the right, by the way), hopped in the shower with me not once but twice - within the same week - when she was about seventeen years old. I was washing my hair when I heard a slip-thump behind me, and I turned to see my cat drinking the water that was swirling down the drain. It was the most ludicrous image I just had to laugh. She bailed as soon as I moved because the water stream shifted and she started getting REALLY wet, but she came back the next morning. I wondered if this was a new trend for Oatmeal and if I needed to start closing the door when I showered (which I didn’t do because I was living alone at the time and because the cat’s litter box lived in the bathroom), but no, after two mornings of co-showering, she was good.

Take 3: Then there was the time that I had filled the tub with bleach water to soak the mildew off of the functional shower curtain (nevermind that a new one only costs $2 - I was trying to be edo-thrifty) and Oatmeal FELL IN because she was trying to get a drink of the water. Of the bleach water! I flipped out! Luckily she was okay, but I never tried that eco-thrifty trick ever again.

Take 4: Bored of cats yet? Okay, let’s talk about dogs. My puppy Anastasia is the shoe-chewingest dog I’ve ever met! Milo has chewed exactly one shoe in all his time with us (of course, I was MORTIFIED when he did it because it was a friend’s shoe, not mine) but Ana has already ruined two pairs of my flip-flops (Including *sadness* the cute pair of black be-jeweled flipflops *woe* that I got for just $8 at Payless and wore to work nearly every day *kri*) and this morning, as I was checking my email and doing my caffeine upload, I noticed that she had settled down with ANOTHER one of the shoes I frequently wear to work! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Like a good mommy, I didn’t just scold her, I gave her an approved chew so she could soothe her teething gums and exercise her jaw without causing damage to any of mommy’s wardrobe.

The added bonus of Ana’s shoe fetish? Now everyone in the house keeps their shoes put away (most of the time) instead of leaving them scattered around the living room for ME to pick up. If I could just figure out a way to get them to pick up their dirty dishes and put them in the sink (or better yet, in the dishwasher) I would be a happy housekeeper.

Take 5: I’ve been thinking about volunteering and giving to charity and I wrote two looooong drafts of a post about these topics, and they were coming out all wrong, so I decided to let my thoughts incubate a little longer. The short version of what I wanted to say is that I think giving is important, and lately I’ve really been feeling the urge to give of my time. I’ve been feeling this way for a loooong time, but I haven’t yet made the plunge, and I’m not sure why. I think part of it is that I needed some time to further heal from being taken advantage of in my last volunteer position (official position title: Missionary to America; unofficial title: Indentured Servant to Crazy Controlling Cult Leader) and part of it is that I’m very impulsive and I’m trying to discipline myself to think things through before I make a huge decision. I tend to get excited about an idea and go all-out in my pursuit of bringing that idea to fruition, only to have my excitement (and my effort) fizzle out a few weeks/months later. So… well, so there. No resolution to this dilemma yet, just lots of contemplation. Which is probably why I couldn’t put together a satisfying blog post on the subject, LOL.

Take 6: It’s been far too long since I posted any artwork (in fact, I just realized I deleted my online portfolio the last time I revamped this blog… and though I want to get my portfolio back up, I also really need to revamp my blog layout AGAIN… but anyway) so here, have a black cat. I drew this last year (or was it the year before?) intending to scan it and use it for Halloween cards (perhaps to sell? And actually MAKE MONEY as an artist, what a concept) but I never got around to it (story of my life…). Well, Chrissy (my roommate/not-yet-sister-in-law) and I are planning on throwing a BIG Halloween bash this year, and it occurred to me that I ought to use this picture for the invites. Brilliant! Plus, for some reason, folks always love it when I give them something I drew, even if it is just a dinky little card.

Take 7: Audience Participation The woman who hosts my Bible study group has a lovely little apartment that’s decorated like something out of a Martha Stewart catalog, and I noticed this week that she’s brought out her holiday bathroom decor - specifically, Halloween-themed hand towels with cutesie witches and ghosts embroidered on them. This perplexed me a bit, because (so far as I can tell) this church seems to be fairly fundamentalist (albeit hip and cool), and most fundamentalist churches are anti-Halloween. I wanted to ask our hostess about her towels, but I decided against it because I figured I’d come across as weird. Still, I am confused. I’m not used to people who actually believe in Satan and a literal, historical interpretation of the Bible decorating their homes with witches and ghosts. So here’s a question for the Christians reading this: Do you celebrate Halloween? And whether you do or not, what’s your reasoning?

Oh, oh, oh! Audience Participation, part deux. I’m thinking of purchasing a netbook (a very CHEEEEEEEEAP netbook) since my laptop is being super-wonky and I need a reliable machine at home to waste time surfing the net and posting on my blog keep in touch with friends and family and run my AVON business. Fixing my current laptop (a six-year-old Macbook) would likely cost just a couple hundred less buying a brand-new netbook, and that additional expense could be offset by the fact that I can write the purchase off come tax time. When I discussed the purchase with my friend Kerry, she had some very good advice, and I wanted to open up the floor to other folks’ input as well. If you own a netbook, what kind is it and would you recommend it to someone else? If you DON’T own a netbook, do you have a make/model you’d really like to own? I’m looking at the Dell Mini 10, so I’d really like specific input about it, but any other insight would be helpful. Also: Do you consider virus protection and other Norton utilities to be necessary tools for a PC owner? Why or why not?