Valentine's Day

Ah the weekend of love is upon us, and another Valentine's Day approaches. To say I am ho-hum about the whole thing is really overstating how much I care about Valentine's Day. I think I used to care, but that would have been many, many years ago. Now it's just another day, sadly kinda like my birthday.

I know that there are people out there in love with love. Hallmark has made mega-bucks with the promotion of this particular holiday. Cards, flowers, chocolates galore! You can't walk into any store without being bombarded with the fact that you need to get on the ball and get your sweetie something special. And, for your effort, your love shall be eternal. All because you plopped down $10 on a card, whose uttering of love was written by someone else, and a cheap box of chocolates. I can feel the romance in the air. Can't you?

Maybe it's just sour grapes on my part. I haven't received a Valentine's-branded gift in years. My husband doesn't show his love with flowers and candy. He does it by making most of the meals in our house, giving our vehicles oil changes, and trudging in the snow to cut wood to keep our house warm in the winter, among other things. He may not be the most romantic person in the world, but I'm not either. I like candy, but we still have stockpiles of Sofia's Halloween candy left. I like flowers, but they only last for a few days. I don't need the usual trappings of Valentine's to know that I'm loved. I'm quite content without.

There you have it. I'm not anti-Valentine's Day, but I don't mark the day on my calendar with a giant red heart either. It will come and go. I do love love, but I'm not shelling out to Hallmark to prove it. They're doing just fine without me.

Just a note to those of you who do like flowers: Do not ever, under any circumstances, ever mention to your significant other that you think flowers are impractical. You will never receive another one again. Never. I am living proof. Ok, there are some sour grapes. But, I digress.

So for those of you who care:

Happy Valentine's Day!

Changes

Nothing too big. Just decided to change my moniker. Small town girl was fairly simplistic, and I had originally decided to title my blog as that because I really am not all that creative. But, I wanted something different, so I turned to where I always turn for answers: music. As you know (because I've beaten you all into submission with it), I love Led Zeppelin, so I decided to go that way. I debated calling this blog Tangerine Tales (decided that was definitely not me), Black Dog, or What Is And What Should Never Be (still kind of partial to this one). But, in the end, I settled on Over the Hills and Far Away. I like it because, not only is it one of my favorite songs, but also because it can describe a place, a state of mind, or any of the other generalities of my life. So there you have it, what is old becomes new again...to me anyway. I am still a small town girl, can't escape that fact. But, I'm now over the hills and far away. Unless the Led Zeppelin legal team decides otherwise and issues me a cease and desist order. That wouldn't be the coolest.

Although maybe it could be my ticket to meeting them...yeah, I seriously doubt it too. I'll have to keep scheming to make that particular dream come true.

Chicken Spaghetti Recipe

Because I rarely cook and because this was the first recipe I ever went free-style on, I thought I better record it for posterity. It actually turned out really well. Delicious even. And, although I almost blew up the stove (I think it was pissed at me - I've ignored it for quite awhile. Who was I to think I could cook on her? The very idea.), the meal turned out. This happened in the middle of boiling chicken (I didn't even know you could do that. How ignorant am I?). But, after Lee did some handyman work, we were back up and running, no worse for the wear. And, I actually fed my family. Score! But, I haven't done it since. Fail. Oh well, I'll give her another go soon. However, I will be donning some protective gear next time in case the stove wants to get up in my business again. Not in my...er, Lee's kitchen.

Chicken Spaghetti

1 (7 ounce) package ready cut spaghetti
4 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves
1 (10.75 ounce) can cheddar cheese soup, undiluted
1 (10.75 ounce) can cream of chicken soup, undiluted
1 can diced tomatoes w/chile peppers, drained
1 cup milk
1/4 tsp. ground black pepper
1/4 tsp. garlic powder or salt (I used powder because that's all I had)
1/4 tsp. onion powder
A pinch of salt (I have a low tolerance for salt, so I use a minimum)
1 cup shredded Cheddar cheese

1. Bring large pot of salted water to a boil. Add chicken, then turn down to a simmer. Let simmer about 20-25 minutes or until chicken is cooked through. - If stove blows a fuse, this step may take a little longer. :) When chicken is cooked through, remove from water. Cut into bite-size pieces.
2. Using the same water used to boil chicken, cook the spaghetti according package instructions. When spaghetti is finished cooking, drain and rinse, then return to pan.
3. Add to the pan the chicken, both soups, the diced tomatoes, milk, pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, and salt. Combine until ingredients are mixed through.
4. Transfer to a greased 13x9x2-inch baking dish and sprinkle with the shredded Cheddar cheese.
5. Bake uncovered at 350 degrees F for 20-25 minutes or until heated through.

Delicious? Yes. Low-fat? Ummm no. Do I care? Not one bit. I thought it was great, and I actually made it without any help from Lee (well except for fixing the stove). That's all that matters to me.

Honesty

Even though you wouldn't know it, I've been two-timing you my faithful followers (all three of you). I've been writing posts behind your back and not publishing them. Why, you ask? Because I've been trying to work through some feelings not for public consumption. And, I think I have worked through them...for now.

So the long and short of it is: Sometimes I need to write out things that I'm feeling because expressing them in any form makes me feel better. But, on that same note, a lot of the time I want to keep them private because somewhere down the line they could end up hurting or embarrassing me or someone that I care about.

So, it's not you, it's me. :)

But, always know that if there is an opinion to be expressed about something stupid in current affairs, I'm your Gal Friday. And, I may from time to time let a bit of my personal side show, but only if I know that the only person I'll be affecting is me.

So for right now, I'll leave you with that. Don't mean to leave you hanging on what's going on, but that's how I roll. Also, this should be a reminder to myself to log out of Blogger when I'm done. Now that's food for thought...duh. Knowledge, not wisdom my fair friends. But, I'm working on it.

Hugs and kisses!

Rehab

As soon as I said I would never watch another reality show, my friend V told me I needed to tune into the season premiere of Celebrity Rehab last night. She said I needed to get a glimpse of Heidi Fleiss, or more accurately what was left of Heidi Fleiss. Now, I didn't watch the whole thing because of my ban on reality televison. However, I did stay long enough to know that the newest members of Rehab are Dennis Rodman (it was only a matter of time), Mackenzie Phillips (what is this, like her 43rd trip to rehab?), Mindy McCready (sp?), Heidi Fleiss, some dude from Alice in Chains (I got to see them poke around in an abscess on his ass. TMI you say? YOU didn't see it [or maybe you did]. Beyond gross.), and some other goofy looking dude who I should know, but don't (sad how fame really is fleeting).

After just catching a glimpse of Heidi Fleiss and hearing that she had just done speed before checking in, I quickly checked out. I don't know what she's done to her face, but the end result is pretty horrifying. It was a prime case of plastic surgery gone wrong. All in all, another crop of messed up has-beens. Not that I couldn't sit and watch this soap opera play out, but it all makes me feel really uncomfortable, and there was a good book calling my name.

I hope that the residents truly do get clean and healthy during their stay. They certainly need it. But, I know my hope is futile. Sadly, this may be their last bit of fame before their obit prints in the L.A. Times. I hate to be morbid, but it's the truth. Although many of them sought the spotlight, in the end the glare of it has been their greatest downfall.

Even the Losers

I loathe reality shows. This includes any of the crap on MTV and VH1, Big Brother, Housewives of wherever, The Bachelor/Bachelorette, etc. Blech. I cannot express how much I hate this sort of programming and how much I believe these type of shows have completely dumbed down America and brought television to its proverbially knees. Now, if you do enjoy this sort of entertainment, that's your own perogative. Watch what you want, just don't force it upon me. What you watch is your business. I may not understand, but I won't chastise you for it either. Free country and all.



That being said, I may have to break with my No Reality TV campaign for one solitary program: The Biggest Loser. Now, I'm not foolish enough to believe that everything you see on there is spontaneous. Nothing on reality tv is. But, in the end people do lose weight and they do get in shape. It kind of looks inspiring as I've glimpsed at it from a distance. So, I think I may tune in tonight and see if it is actually worth watching. But, if it turns into one big arguing, screaming match, I'm out...way out. I'm looking for inspiration, not anxiety.

And, although I decided to break down and watch one reality program (this does not include documentaries - which actually are reality tv), I still wish the television industry would get a grip and bring back quality programming. My idea of a good program is not watching a bunch of groupie wanna-be's fight over a way-past-his prime Bret Michaels. Gag.

Is this really what we've come to? C'mon television, I'm begging you for something new and worthwhile. Is that really so much to ask?

Another Trip Around the Sun

Although it seems like just another day to me, today is my birthday. 33 years old. I wonder if that is supposed to generate some sort of emotion from me, but I'm not feeling it. I remember when I was much younger and knowing your birthday was approaching was so exciting, it was almost unbearable. Everyone was your friend on your birthday. You knew you were going to have a party after school. There would be presents. These days, I usually work on my birthday. I know exactly who my friends are (and I'm blessed and thankful that they are my friends). And, I rarely receive presents. It's just a day spent remembering that I'm another year older. But, as someone, who's mother is battling cancer, recently put it, "Celebrate your birthday because you may not know how many you have left." So true.

So although the last year had many instances of heartbreak and sadness, it also had so many occasions of joy and happiness. Weddings, birthdays, new babies, new beginnings. So, although I usually dwell on the wrongs of the world, I want to make it my goal to focus on the rights. I want to be hopeful for wonderful things in the future. I will make that my present to myself. There is no sense in looking behind you when the road ahead is filled with so many possibilities. So, I am going to try to focus on the positive. I will stumble along the way, but here's to the hope of picking myself up, brushing myself off, and continuing on.

Happy Birthday to Me!