Doin' Grandma proud!

Tonight, I attempted to channel my Cajun grandmother, and successfully produced a jambalaya that is so good I nearly took the whole pot to the neighbors and force fed them because, by the gods, it was too damn good for one household.

Things I learned during this venture:

1) Stick to what I know, which means screw recipes and measuring! I only halfway listened to a recipe for an etouffee once, and it very nearly became an unnatural disaster that probably would've eaten the whole town had I not managed to salvage it through wits, My Favorite Pot, and a flail. This time, I glanced at some recipes to get an idea of what people tend to put in jambalaya and let my instincts do the rest, as with everything else I cook. (I only measure for baking. You HAVE to measure for baking; otherwise, it becomes comedy.) 

2) Because of the above rule, I have an inability to cook a little of anything. I am now absolutely certain this is why Grandma had THREE freezers full of fish, meat, etouffee, more etouffee, gumbo, and whatever the hell that was that we poked once a year and left an offering of catfish just to make sure it wasn't going to eat the house.

3) Cajun cooking might not be good for your cholesterol or your waistline, but it can be made cheaply, is damn good, and can feed an army. Hell, I'm pretty certain if they had dropped Grandma into a starving country with her favorite pot (ALWAYS use your favorite pot), she could feed everyone within a fifty mile radius with a bag of rice, some scavenged plants, and an unfortunate buffalo she took down with her stirrin' spoon.

4) Much like when I decided to relive my childhood and was forever ruined to never again microwave a bag of popcorn (stove top popcorn FTW), I will never buy that instant boxed crap again.

I might try my hand at rice dressing (also known as dirty rice in some parts) soon. The problem with that is did Grandma use chicken livers, gizzards, or both, and the fact I get squigged out every time I think of them.  Sometimes, it's just best to not know what she used.

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Cajun cooking comes from a long established philosophy of "you can eat anyt'ing dat don' eat you first" and very little wasn't used on an animal.  Not much has changed.  Which must explain why someone back in the day looked at a huge, ferocious reptile with more teeth than sense and thought, "I wonda how dat taste?" But, hey, bless them for it. Gator is gooood.

A thought on Love

I don't think love brings pain.  I think it brings a perception of the world and our lives that is so amazing and acutely sharp to our senses that we think we are in heaven.  But, yet, when it leaves us - sometimes in a horrific display of pain - the hole, the vacuum it leaves fills with suffering and hate.  It's not so much that there is a fine line between love and hate as if love could turn to hate.  Love is love.  Hate is hate.  It's just that love and hate are the same as light and dark and when one leaves the other fills the space.  Love is amazing which is why we seek it so.  We fear it because we think it brings pain.  No.  That is wrong.  Love does not bring pain.  Love lifts us to a level far higher than ourselves and helps us to fly.  When it is taken away our wings are clipped, we fall hard and onto solid, unforgiving ground and anger and hate envelope us and fill the void where love once was.  We want to blame love and not the people who took our love away.  Love is beautiful and should be sought and cherished not feared even if it might disappear because stupid humans are stupid.  It makes us laugh and smile and stand a hundred feet tall.  Love is amazing and should never be feared.  I know this now.  

I know this now.

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And, yes, it's worth the risk of decimating pain.

Prices so low it's Krazy!

Sinuses!  Sinuses!  Sinuses!  We all need them!  They are an essential part of...well, something involving breathing!  But, sometimes you get a faulty set that just don't run as well as they should, am I right?  Good hard earned DNA put to waste!  Are you one of those people who poke her sinuses wishing they would wake up and do their job?

Well, look no more!  Down here at Krazy Kamikaze Kumquat's Everything-But-The-Fleas Flea Market we just got in this amazing set of sinuses that are absolute workaholics, folks.  They are so hard working their original owner couldn't keep up!  Here is her testimonial:

"Dude, I had to buy fucking stock in Kleenex..."

See there?  Good honest workmanship at your disposal.

For just the low, low price of $19.99, you get this powerful, amazing, over-clocked, under-used set of sinuses that will solve all your lazy sinus needs! That's right, just $19.99 gets you more sinus action than you could ever hope for!  But, wait!  There's more!  If you buy within the next ten minutes, we'll throw in this handy-dandy goblin trap for free!  That's right FREE!  Tired of those little buggers getting into your sock drawer and only stealing the left sock?  Put an end to that with the Kumquat's patented Goblin Gobbler.  This little critter sits and waits in a corner and will just gobble those little nuisances right up with minimum splatters or screams!  (Litter box, instruction manual, warranty, liability, and ability to know why it will eventually devour your house not included.)

You heard it here, folks.  With just one payment of $19.99, you nor only get a fantastic pair of sinuses who will go above and beyond the call of duty to produce mucus for your dry, dry nose, but a patented Goblin Gobbler.  And, hell, because I'm a nice Kumquat, if you order in the next five minutes, I'll throw in these nail clippers.

So, visit us here at Krazy Kamikaze Kumquat's Everything-But-The-Fleas Flea Market!  We got what ya didn't know ya needed!

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Take my sinuses...please...

Kleenex not included.

How to become a zombie

1. Become infected with some massive head/chest illness that makes you feel like you have been run over by a bulldozer.
2. Wear only the rattiest pajamas you have because dammit they are your favorite, making you kind of look like you were run over by a bulldozer.
3. Blow your nose so much that your face becomes raw and red and looks as if it will peel off any moment.  (Don't forget the puffy eyes and coughing...a lot of coughing...even better if you're hacking stuff up.)
4. Only have enough energy to wander around the house wrapped in a blanket groaning, "uuuuuuuuuugh."

If your significant other, looks you in the eye and says, "If you don't go to the doctor, I'm going to have to shoot you in the head just to be sure" then you have successfully become a zombie.  

Be sure to thank your S.O. for being so thoughtful.

Or, give him/her your infection and go off together and create the zombie apocalypse that the interwebs wants so very badly and laugh your zombie asses off at all the blowhards who become food for the hoards.

That would be so romantic.

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There's also the "If you loved me, you really would shoot me in the head." option.  In my house, that is always followed with, "Ugh, and have to clean up all the blood?  Ew."  Lying bastard!

The Truth about Depression/Anxiety/Insomnia/etc...

(I originally wrote this for Tumblr (1/29/13), but I wanted to make sure it was here as well.)

I reblogged this post from frozenboyfriend21, and it reminded me of something.

You see, I have severe anxiety, depression, and insomnia.  Have had it since childhood.  It runs in the women of my family, but for me, it has been severely exasperated over the last couple of years by certain life situations that have been truly on the level of "What The Fuck?"

Most of my friends and family have given me clues recently that they know I tread water between life and suicide... (I can't sleep, but I can't keep sleeping pills around because there is a voice that tells me how easy it would be to take care of the pain if I just take all the pills...)  

Every day that I get out of bed is a victory.  Every day that I don't consider suicide is a triumph.  Most people don't understand this.  They don't understand how a chronically anxious, depressive mind can turn the simplest situations into a crippling scenario.  They don't understand that some days you literally shut down and other days you wish you could shut down forever...

And, of that is what the post reminded me.  It reminded me of a universal truth about all of those with any chronic disorder.  I would like to take a moment to express that truth, especially to all those who think they "understand" us and/or "fix" us:

You well-meaning assholes with your "tough love" or "understanding" think we can "just get over it."  Holy fuck!  Do you honestly think we want to be this way?  Do you not stop and think for half a second that if we could flip a fucking internal switch and "get over it" we would do it gladly?  No one wants to wake up each and every day counting reasons to stay alive alongside reasons to get out of the bed.  No one wants to be curled up in fear of what new horror the day might bring.  No one wants to be so crippled by self-loathing it creates a sincere fear of meeting others because we've already passed their own judgement for them.  No, of course, it doesn't make sense to you, but it also doesn't make sense to us either.  If we could make sense out of it and make it go away, we would.  Until then, stop trying to "fix" or "understand" us and just fucking hold and listen to us.  Be a reason on our "to live" list.

We didn't choose these paths.  We're just trying to survive them.

Where the hell is my cane?

Anyone who stumbles upon this blog might notice at first that the most recent posts are the same as that which is on my Tumblr site.  That is because right now I'm just trying to get the hang of Tumblr, so I'm spending more time there.  Also, while this blog was down for so long and no one really follows it, some of my old friends don't follow Tumblr at all, so they come here instead.  

Now, for the moment, I am thinking since it is so very much about the visuals and short blurbs, the longer posts will stay here.  I'll be sure to link them there as well.  

This, of course, is subject to change as I get a grip on how it all works on Tumblr.

If you have stumbled here from there, welcome.  Please, forgive the double-posting.  I'm not being lazy; just being too old for this new-fangled shit.

Thank you.




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I love me some interwebs, but for as long as I've been on here, I swear either I'm too old or the rate at which it changes is moving faster.  Probably both.  Get off my damn lawn!

Oh, horror, how we love thee...

While searching for new blogs to follow on ye olde Tumblr, I glanced across a question asked of a blog, "Why do you like horror?"

I didn't think much of it at the time, but later while in the shower where life, the universe, and totally random shit are contemplated, I remembered that question and thought, "Why do I like horror?"

I never really considered what I thought or felt while watching a horror film, and I came across a few realizations:

I've been into horror for a long time, but I've noticed these last couple of years, when times have been particularly terrible, it's one of three genres I actively seek out, the others being fantasy and sci-fi.  Each genre gives me an outlet of some sort.  Horror's outlet is it lets me enjoy bad things happening to people who aren't me.  I don't typically wish bad things on people in real life, but if you're going to be a stupid bitch and go downstairs in your underwear with no weapon to check out that noise, then you get what you deserve and I get to laugh at you.  And, I don't have to feel guilty!  Alternately, since horror also gives me an outlet for my anger, it means I won't go out and actually do horrible things to people, even if they deserve them.

I also find horror gives me some perspective.  No matter how fucked up may day/week/year has been, it's nothing like Johnny Depp's night when he was turned into a blood fountain the likes of which Vegas would be proud.  (Best. Scene. Ever.)  Getting screwed by my own lawyer in the divorce sucked donkey balls, but hey, I haven't been turned into a gore geyser, so I guess I'm not doing that badly.

Of course, there is also the thought I just like being scared out of my wits.  Considering it's getting harder to do that these days, it has become a personal mission to find horror films that can achieve that.  If it is entertaining and I enjoyed my time watching it, then it is a good horror.  If I find myself clutching my boyfriend's arm, having to remember to breathe, hearing my heart pound during the silences, and fearing my own dreams that night, then it is an excellent horror.  It's not that I've become desensitized to horror, it's just that I've learned too much about the trade.  There are some films, though, that absorb me into their folds and make me forget reality altogether...  Now, that's horror!

Our reasons for like horror are all very personal, though.  My reasons aren't my boyfriend's reasons nor are they of the people sitting with us in the theater.  I wouldn't mind hearing from my fellow horrorhounds, though.

Why do you like horror?

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There are those people who think our liking horror makes us demented and little better than serial killers.  To them I say:  demented?  Maybe.  Serial killers?  Nah, and the proof is the fact your annoying, judgmental ass is still alive.

I can has a Tumblr

I really thought I was going to just shut this down and only use my new tumblr, but I'm going to try to keep both going.  Tumblr, I thought, had a word count limit.  I haven't seen that yet.  If I find out it does not, then I might shift over that way since that's pretty much where everyone is.  But, for my longer posts, I'll put them here.

Kamikaze Kumquat via Tumblr





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Yeah, I know, but if I'm going to get this off the ground again, I have to go where it can be seen.  I've already got 6 followers in two days.  I can't shake a stick at that.  Well, I can, but what good does it do?  Where the hell does that saying come from anyway?

Screw you, Zuckerberg!

Facebook.  I loathe it to my soul, but I can't seem to leave it.  Every day I find a new reason but just can't seem to do it.  Even now, I'm thinking it will be better if I delete my page and just start new with another, being choosier about who I friend, ignoring the games, etc... but we all know how that's going to go.  It shouldn't be this damn hard.

But, it is, and now I realize why.

Back when everyone I knew was jumping on the Facebook train, I was content to just wave at them as they bulleted off into social media hell.  But, then I started getting news about friends, and even family, days sometimes weeks later and only when it was volunteered during real life social situations.  This conversation became all too common:

"What do you mean you don't know about that?  Everyone knows about it!"

"Well, it's not like anyone bothered to call or email me about it.""It was posted on Facebook."

And, no matter how many times I thumped the table with my fist and shouted, "I'm not on fucking Facebook, and I don't want to be!" it never seemed to sink in.  (A lot like after I voluntarily got rid of cable TV.  After being asked the thousandth time "have you seen...?" I nearly replaced "What part of 'I don't have fucking cable' do you not understand?" with a punch in the crotch.)

The final straw was when a rather important piece of news that I really needed to know didn't filter to me until it was too late because It Was Posted On Facebook.

That's when I knew I was beat.  There was no way these fuckers were going to keep me in the loop through normal human communication; it had to be on Facebook.

My very first status very nearly was "I hate all of you fuckers!" but I hadn't figured out the filtering and there were kids...

So, remembering that, I now realize why it's hard to leave: because I know I'll know nothing about anyone or anything important.  It's one thing to not give a shit about what someone had for dinner, but even vitally important matters are posted on Facebook first it seems.  It's like people have completely forgotten how to communicate outside social media, and the idea of someone not using it is now such a foreign concept they can't wrap their heads around it.  This disturbs me, but it also traps me because, even though they have leveled to stupid with how they communicate, there are people with whom I still want and need to keep in touch.  It is the perfect formula for holding people hostage while making them think they are in charge.

They really should just remove the call option from telephones.  It's not like it's being used anyway.

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Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty addicted to texting, but it can never truly replace hearing a loved one's voice.  And, if you think that is wrong, then you should be boiled in your own juices to prevent further propagation of idiots of your kind.