Coffee….or Carménère

Would we have Coffee With….Chilean President Michelle Bachelet?

Cammy:  Sure.  I mean, every-friggin’-where but here, gals are getting the top political job.  It’s almost getting to be old-hat.  Almost.  But even if we’d crossed into old hat territory, I think it would still be worth it to have coffee with Bachelet.  For one, thing, mad respect to a woman who has a medical degree and success in politics.  That pedigree puts her into that category with Angela Merkel (physicist) and Margaret “The Lady” Thatcher (chemical engineer) (could that be why we haven’t had a female president yet?  Should we be tapping the science department instead of the law department or wherever the fuck we’re getting the female set in US politics?  Me?  I’m hoping for a Computer Science Gal.  Preferably NOT me).  And then, well, she was tortured and exiled.  Even though she tends to play her torture down somewhat (generally pointing out that others suffered far more), doesn’t change the fact that she was tortured.  That puts her into a very unfortunate, and limited circle of world leaders, and I don’t think there are a lot of other girls in the club with her.  There is no way that cannot result in some serious insight and unique viewpoint on things.  Not saying I’m likely to agree with her politically, but I don’t agree with a lot of people politically, so it’s not like that’s a coffee-killer.  And if we can pull together a special bonus round, I want coffee with Bachelet AND Merkel.


Kristy: Definitely. As Cammy said, she’s got to have a fascinating life story, and I would love to hear her tell it. I would like to hear also what she thinks we’re doing wrong up here in los Estados (or what they’re doing right down south) that has enabled women to have more success seeking executive office. Besides her lack of a Y chromosome she has a couple of other factors that would make it harder for her to get elected in the US: she’s an open agnostic and she’s separated (for those not in the know, divorce was only legalized in Chile about ten years ago, so most people just stop living with their spouses when things go bad). I’d like her take on whether that’s a sign Chileans are just less uptight, or were those things she had to overcome. I’d also like to chat about relations between Latin American nations; she’s had some issues with Peru, Bolivia, and Cuba, does she have any thoughts on those? (other than simply telling Peru their maps are wrong)

Cammy:  And seeing as both Kristy and I are fans of a good Chilean Carmenere, I think we opt for wine over coffee here….

Red Wine Whine

This evening, I cleared off my kitchen table, set up this laptop and prepared to settle myself in to write a witty and insightful post.  I’d kind of been looking forward to this today.  I was ready to get my glass of wine, write up a little something on a legal issue, and then move on to some other writing I’ve been putting off.

All would be right with the world.

Except as I started up the machine and went into the kitchen to get my beverage….

There.  Was.  No.  Red.  Wine.

I realize this makes me sound like a lush, but  I haven’t been devoid of a bottle of Shiraz or Cab or Malbec or somesuch for daily-glass consumption in months.  I’m telling myself it’s just the heart health driving this, but I’m fairly certain the stress level of my job is wrapped in there, too.

I hunted high and low.  I do have an extra special stash of wines in the basement, but these are careful purchases I’m saving to share with friends or just for a more momentous occasion than a random Tuesday when I’m outta Yellow Tail.  I thought maybe behind them I’d have something less impressive I could justify cracking into, some Rosemount or Jacob’s Creek or even a misplaced bottle of Little Penguin.

But nothing.  In the end, the lowest end option I had was the already-open Oliver Winery Mead.  And while that’s a tasty beverage, when you want a glass of red, mead just isn’t going to cut it.  So, I’m grudgingly sipping at the sweetness as I type this and pout, all my plans for something informative and well written completely destroyed by my red-wino-madness.

 

Things I Know From Being a Klutz

This morning, I dragged myself out of my warm bed and then out of the semi-snug room where I sleep down to the frigid kitchen.  I had a goal:  raisin bread slices and a glass of cranberry juice.  The electric kettle, my mug and tea bags were already upstairs on a little side table I keep up here for these cold months when I don’t like to venture downstairs into the chill for a cup of hot tea.  All I had to do was get my juice and bread and get back up to the warmth and the book I intended to snuggle up with.

Half way up the stairs, I trip.  Cranberry juice up and down the stairs.  Said stairs are carpeted in a light beige.

Shit.

This is not the first time I’ve dealt with this, although usually it’s red wine to blame.  Towels are grabbed.  Carpet blotted.  Out comes the salt.  My lazy morning reading upstairs is forgotten as I empty an entire box of salt over the stairs, realize I have no more, then suit up and run out to stock up.  Several hours, vacuum sessions and reapplications of salt later….you really can’t see it.  My morning was wasted, but the day was saved.

I’m a klutz.  I trip and fall (often up stairs).  I’m a menace to a white shirt.  I can’t shave my legs without coming out looking like an extra from a horror flick.  Train wreck.

Since, at this point, I’m probably never going to “get over this” and stop, y’know, dropping ink pens on my blouse or tripping while I’m carrying red wine over a white carpet, I’ve acquired a skill set that allows me to deal with the aftermath: stain fighting.

The salt trick, as I mentioned, has bailed me out several times.  Then there’s the blood issue.  Since I can’t seem to shave my legs without incident, I wind up with blood trailing down my ankles and onto carpets or bedding.  When I catch it fast enough and there’s not a crime-scene amount to deal with, spitting on the spot and blotting it is, honestly, my best method.  Seriously.  For those times when I stand on the rug brushing my teeth while unknowingly bleeding out?  Enzymatic contact lens solution has been incredibly handy.  Hose it down.  Blot. Repeat.

Ink is my other nemesis.  I’m never without a pen, unfortunately when running too and from meetings, I sometimes forget to cap a pen and in hauling it around with my work notebook I wind up walking into the next meeting only to find that the pen has added some nice abstract art to the front of my shirt.  Shit.  This is the only reason I still keep hairspray in the house.  Soak it in hairspray, blot with water.  Repeat.  It may take a while, but I’ve even gotten Sharpie out with this method.

I didn’t realize I was acquiring these random tidbits until I found myself spouting them to co-workers (especially that pen thing).  At first I feared I was going a little too home-maker-hints-from-Heloise.  I didn’t remember reading any of those household blogging sites my mother likes to check…..where was this coming from?  While contemplating this development, I tripped, spilled tea all over my shirt and realized (as I drenched the stain in white vinegar and began blotting it with a wet washcloth), and then remembered exactly why I knew stuff like this.

MTV, MPB Gives Thanks

Okay, so Cammy and I have been bad about posting this week.  She’s been busy and I’ve been traveling and… yeah.  But we wanted to make sure to send out a Happy Thanksgiving (sorry to our Canadian readers for missing your holiday) to our gentle and not-so-gentle readers.  Because it might be my television and Cammy’s peanut butter, but that’s no reason we can’t share a celebratory meal, a nutritive communion if you will, together.

I’m here at Cammy’s house where we’ve just had our Thanksgiving dinner.  Not being turkey people we had ham (not Virginia ham, but good nonetheless).  Cammy made cornbread dressing (not stuffing since it wasn’t stuffed in anything).  I made carmelized cauliflower and sweet potatoes with olive oil and Italian seasoning.  And I just had canned cranberry sauce for the first time in my life (Cammy has this thing about slicing it on the lines).  Oh yes, and fried green tomatoes.

Long story short—it’s been delicious.  We’ve also just polished off our third glass of wine (one each of Indiana Foch and two of Missouri Norton).  We’re watching Dogma (well, I’m watching Dogma, Cammy’s asleep.)  Cammy’s cat Truffles has been snuggling on my lap on and off.  Definitely a day to be thankful for.

Oh yes, and lest anyone forget, the first recognized Thanksgiving celebration in what is now the United States was in Virginia.  Not Massachusetts.  (Yeah, we did it first, we did it better.)

We here at It’s My TV, It’s My Peanut Butter are thankful for you, our readers.  We’re thankful for kitties.  We’re thankful for wine and delicious carbs.  And that there will be ice cream later.  Mmmm… carbs.

So have a happy holiday.  I’m thinking of the day as a vacation from my life.  Or the three papers I should have been writing today (although Dogma bears more than a passing resemblance to Middle English Romance.)  May you all indulge in whatever it is you like to indulge in so that you may go back to your real life fortified enough to make it through to the next celebration.

This Post Has Been Usurped by Wine and Good Conversation

1) I may or may not make typographical and grammatical errors influenced by the 3 glasses o Shiraz I’ve consumed at this point.

2) I haven’t had a chance to call, well, ANYONE who doesn’t have a confirmed blood relation to me in about 3 months–possibly more.

3) I called my blogging partner- in-crime, Kristy, this evening at 6:30

4) I cracked open the shiraz at about the same time

5) It’s past my 00:00 hour due date for this post because we just got through talking (so, over 6 hours on the phone).

In my defense, this blog was (one of) the topic(s) of conversation.  It was actually about 1 year ago that I registered this domain name and began the process of setting up WordPress for the blog you’re reading now.  The research for what hosting service we would ultimately choose began more than a month earlier.  The fact that we didn’t begin posting until several months later is a testament to our procrastination about this endeavor.

Somewhere between freaking one another out with creepy tales of serial killers (which extended the conversation because you CANNOT hang up with someone after freaking both out to the point that sleep is just not going to happen), and updates on family members, we spoke about the future of this project.  What to do in the future?  How to keep you gentle readers entertained?  Projects, series. plans….

In our usual “why-do-today-what-you-can-put-off-until-tomorrow” way, we brainstormed some high level concepts that we marked TBD for our next phone call. But it’s early yet.  By next year, we’ll still be ready for something more entertaining.

And what can you expect beyond more of the same?  Well, no guarantees, but possibly some creative fiction, some new visuals, maybe some audio, and–if we can con any of you, gentle readers, some guest appearances yet to come.

We deeply appreciate every one of you who’s bothered to drop a comment or an e-mail (we more-or-less appreciate those of you who read but don’t comment 😉 ).  You’re always welcome to let us know what changes may want to see in the next year (up to and including comments on how I should leave the writing to Kristy, who can spell and doesn’t post while under the influence of wine).  As always, the comment box is open and if you don’t want to talk here, let us know via e-mail at either of our names (kristy or cammy) dot the domain name.  (Why am I writing it that way?  To avoid spam-bots).