I cried myself to sleep last night.
Jarvis had to excuse himself and go to bed when the stoning began. I held up the throw, that was warming my legs, to block my eyes. Eventually I had to plug my ears, too – as I began to feel each stone that I could hear bludgeoning Soraya M. in rapid fire succession.
The good news is that the actual stoning in the movie ‘The Stoning of Soraya M’ is less than 10 minutes of the movie – so please don’t let this graphically violent scene dissuade you from watching this powerful, beautifully made, must see movie.
What happened for Jarvis and I might just happen for you. It may open your heart, stir up compassion and widen your eyes to the many cultures that comprise this global village that we are all a part of. You may want to kill the horrible man that is at the center of the spiral of lies, but you may also feel a certain sense compassion toward the villagers because of the hundreds of years of deep belief that the way they do things is actually right. We all only know what we know, we also know what we don‘t know… then, there’s all the stuff that we don’t know that we don’t know – and that is a HUGE percentage of stuff!
Still the ability for one human to do unto another with such fierce violence blows my freakin mind. I remember back after the towers went down there was a series of beheadings that took place in the Mid-East that were available for your viewing pleasure on the internet. I could never watch them, but my friend Rigzin, a Buddhist, watched them and explained to me that it helped him with the compassion component of his practice. After last night I get that (even though I couldn’t really watch it)
I joined Jarvis in bed with my heart completely busted open. After he stirred and received me in his arms, he said, ‘I’m sad’. I mumbled, ‘me too’, and began to cry in his embrace.
Sometimes we need our teeth kicked in to reach that place of growth and intimacy, we both evolved a little bit from watching Soraya and her injustices.
Jarvis sent me this text message early today:
“I guess the movie left me upset, sad, insecure in the heart and worried about mankind – and I want to be with you right now.”
How’s that for opening your heart?
Let me just assure you that the other main character, Saraya’s aunt, Zahra, is a BAD ASS! She’s an elder, a witch, a strong minded, loud mouthed force to be reckoned with. Unfortunately, there was only one of her. Had it been Zahra and her clone, they may have prevailed.
To be more like Zarha is why I ‘train’ to be strong, powerful and a real Bitch – if need be. We are rallying you to find your inner Bitch so when the day comes that one of us sisters, or our kids, or even the men that we love need us to have ‘their – proverbial – back’ we will not hesitate, we will be there in droves and we will not let the member of our tribe EVER be stoned. (there’s a weed joke here, waiting to be let loose – but I just can’t do it)
So, to quote the Bitch Rap:
“…honor your sisters from everywhere, because when you need us – we’ll be there!”
In loving Bitchiness,
T-bone
PS http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1277737/
How do you stay hot and juicy? T-bone
I need your help…
There were two conversations that took place this week in my treatment room that I need to share, explore and then… I guess, resolve? One of them I listened to, the other I was a part of.
The one I listened to was between my client – we’ll call her Shelly – and her coworker, Christy. They both work in a firm that revolves around The Partners. Shelly and Christy service one Partner who has to be ready for court in a few days. The looming deadline for this case has created a bit of office tension, understandably. Christy was stating that she’d really like to get a work out in and if she only knew when The Partner was going to be there or not be there, she could schedule her run around his presence. Shelly and Christy were lamenting that The Partner was incapable of communicating his schedule so for several reasons everyone in the office was in a holding pattern, circling above the runway, waiting for his landing. What a sense of power, his whole team in waiting, anticipating his every move! These women were skipping their breaks, work outs and timely arrivals home to their families because this guy gets paid the big bucks presenting the work, that his team has put together for him, in the court of law.
I was sharing this story with another client, who is quite the feminist, and she commented on how when she takes her kids to the dentist she notices the same dynamics… this brood of women servicing the doctor! Laughing at his jokes, anticipating his every need, etc… (she even joked that they probably took turns blowin’ him in the back room) I get it, it makes for a smooth operation. The ladies are lucky they have such good jobs! When my first client, Shelly was about to leave she said, “Oh my God, you should see what happens when he (The Partner) breaks up with his girlfriend or any other crises happens… that theory of having a ‘work husband’? – he’s mine!” I thought, “holly hell, shoot me!”
The other conversation that I was involved in broke my heart… my sweet, dear friend and client – we’ll call her Eli – was on my table receiving a facial. She was very sad because she knew her husband was upset with her because the schedule she is keeping leaves her with no joy, no happiness, no juiciness and especially no energy for making love. They have two young children, she runs a small business and is taking a tough course in school. She is pooped! She’s lost her joy. She wants to be happy, but can’t get there. She said she missed the manner in which she used to care for herself, her soul, her spirit before she was married with children. I asked how that was for her and what she described was HEAVEN! Sign me up, buy me a ticket, enroll me… I want to go there now!
It went a little something like this:
EVERYDAY…
I meditated
I took a yoga class in the morning and a dance class in the evening
I walked in a park or communed with nature
I was in amazing shape
I ate very well
I had an alter (that didn’t have laundry on it)
I enjoyed my spiritual practice
I traveled! (well, not everyday…)
She went on, but I had to stop her before we both packed our bags and escaped from reality. So what I need your help with is this. How do you find balance while you’re doing it all? I know a few tricks, like finding pleasure in everything you do – even the mundane laundry, being grateful is always helpful and there’s the ever popular ‘think positive’! I actually saw a guy holding a ‘think positive’ sign along the road the other day. He had a huge smile on his face while he was broadcasting this PSA, it was super sweet and made my day! It does help…
Please leave your way in the comments below, because us women at Club Bitch are putting some programs together and you never know… we might use your techniques!
How do you stay grounded?
How do you stay hot and juicy?
How do you keep in contact with the divine?
How do you restrain the primal need to kill your family on certain days?
How do you keep your joy, self-love, sanity, etc…?
As healthy as I am, as smart as I think I am and as together as I think I’ve got it – my sweetie asked me by the end of a long weekend with the family if there was something physically or mentally wrong with me! As if!?!? Well there was – my anger and frustration levels were so high that I was outta control! It’s all due to lack of balance. As we share with each other, we heal each other.
So, thank you in advance.
In loving bitchiness,
T-bone
Public Service Announcement – Part 2 Shirts and Jackets
I’m feeling less fired up about the state of the closet today than I was last week, but I’d like to follow through with the PSA that I promised. Which was shirts and jackets – how to fold ‘em, hang ‘em and keep ‘em in order.
Listen up you slob-inskies! I know you’re in a hurry, but taking a moment to hang your jacket properly now will make for smooth wearing the next time you reach for it. This really applies to everything, just the other day I went to put seven perfectly folded brown paper grocery bags into a single brown paper grocery bag that is in the closet. All in all the receptacle should hold approximately 15 to 20 bags, but in it’s current state would only house 5 or 6… why? Because the two bags that were in it were folded so wrong that it took up the space of 15. One was just on top, horizontal-like, blocking the mouth of the bag. I know this seems trivial, but because someone didn’t take the time to do it right initially, I couldn’t just slip my bags in easily like I should have been able to and get back to more important things. I had to pull the whole thing outta the back, refold and reinsert. So, here’s my question… Why do I have to take the time to FIX the situation at hand? Us women do so much more as it is, as White Chocolate states: men go to work, come home and feel like they’ve done their job – DONE! Us gals do all that – and then the rest.
So here’s what I feel like: I’m working along, working along then BAM! Gotta stop to reorganize the pantry.
I’m working along, working along then BAM! Gotta stop to straiten the (fill in the blank). I’m working along, working along then BAM! Gotta stop to straiten the (fill in the blank). I’m working along, working along then BAM! Gotta stop to straiten the (fill in the blank). I’m working along, working along then BAM! Gotta stop to straiten the (fill in the blank).
I believe this is how resentment builds (just a thought)
So I guess my request is simple, let’s treat our living environment as if we live on a boat. On a boat everything has a place and everyone who lives on a boat knows that it could be very dangerous if things are not stowed properly. Then consider the efficiency that is needed due to the space (or lack thereof). Talk to anyone who has ever lived on a boat, they can give great tips on organization and DISCIPLINE!!!!!
Okay, let’s get back to folding.
Don’t do this:
T-shirts: again, a rectangle with fins. What you want to do is pinch the very outer edges of the shoulders, right on the top seam and fold it in half length wise – back together, front out. Then take those fins and fold them strait in, not at a diagonal. This area with the fins composes about 1/3 of the long rectangle that we are left to deal with, so let’s take this top, fin area and make a fold directly below it (at the armpit). Then repeat to finish with a perfect square really! It’s brilliant! Super easy to stack and very sturdy for when your searching through your stack to find the shirt of the day. If you have a long sleeve, go strait in with it also, then do a 90 degree angle to get it in line with the body of the shirt.
If you completely suck at this HANG IT! -it’s not a bad idea to hang everything if you have the closet space. It’s the best way to coordinate you shit by type and color and to really see what you have to work with. Because, really – we only wear and re-wear the top half of our stacks and drawers.
Dress shirts and jackets: designers put nice seams and folds in these items to house your shoulders and a freakin hanger! The picture above show you exactly how NOT to do it, especially in your son’s closet… what are you teaching him? For years – abuse, addictions and bad closet etiquette have been passed down from generations to generations in this country and it’s got to stop!
Just take a minute to:
1) put the hanger in all the way to the shoulder area.
2) move the clothes on either side of where you’d like to place the jacket on the bar so that your jacket or shirt may hang strait down, we don’t need friction between the items.
3) then, move the clothes on either side of your item back, so that there is no crowding.
It wouldn’t kill you to put pants with pants, short sleeves with short sleeves, jackets with jackets… you get my meaning? It’ll only make your rushed mornings more efficient and delightful!
Okay, enough with the Public Service Announcements for now. Next week I promise to write about something much more entertaining! For now I’m off to move my laundry along to make room for Jack to start his… 
T-bone
Public Service Announcement – Part 1 – folding and hanging
I’m not a man hater, let’s be clear about this!
But… sometimes I hate what they do (or don’t do)
This ‘Bitch, please’ is about household skills, specifically about how most men don’t have them and apparently all suffer from the ‘old dog, new trick’ syndrome.
I was telling Jack, the man that I love, that it’s not his fault. Nobody ever taught him certain household skills, but even if someone had – it’s not in his DNA to remember it or apply it or just plain old DO IT! I also assured him that every man I’ve ever known had the same missing piece of DNA, so it’s not an attack against him personally.
We had dinner with a couple last night. Upon telling them of my intentions of posting this invaluable information, she chuckled and said that her mother-in-law has apologized to her for not teaching her son an ounce of these skills. She didn’t even try! As nice of a lady as she is, shame on her! My friend is not alone, so many of us hook up with men, fall in love and realize we live with grown children to care for. If our men do attempt to ‘keep house’ often times we need to retrain them as they do it all wrong! And don’t get me started with the whole “would you rather be happy or right?” bullshit, because when it comes to men using a dishrag to clean the toilet with, fuck yeah, I’d rather be right! Yes, there is a right way and a wrong way to keep house and if you’d like to learn the right way, pay attention!
This leads me to a phenomenon I’d like to call “I’m stupid, and I like it”. I remember sitting in counseling with my now ex-husband when he admitted that if he kept doing the wash wrong it got him out of having to do it. More recently I found out, when a big group of us were playing cards (insert peer pressure), Jack actually knows how to shuffle the deck! I looked at him and said, “What the fuck? I’ve been shuffling cards for you for 3 point seven five years because you said you didn’t know how, and you do it perfectly?” At this point my brother-in-law admitted that he has relied on the “I’m stupid, and I like it” phenomenon many times! Where is their pride? I could NEVER fake not having knowledge, nor could any other woman I know. Here’s another example of how men are unwilling to learn from the woman that they are with. Men blow us off, we find ourselves repeating our efforts and ultimately we are labeled “rags” because of our persistency. It’s similar to the card game story, because peer pressure is involved. I was leading Jack in his own private Nia class because he said that if he knew the dance moves better he might be more inclined to join me in the fabulous workout that it is! I thought, “perfect -we can stop to take the time to teach him what he was having trouble with.” Well, during our time together he did continue to move for one hour strait, and for that I was very proud. But, he would not allow me to help him, I could not teach him or correct him in any way. He would comment that he didn’t like a particular routine before we even began and chose to jog around the room when he didn’t want to follow along. There was no eagerness to learn – I was completely dumbfounded that our hour together played out the way it did. I didn’t say much, in that I didn’t want to discourage him from coming to class again. In other words I tempered myself. Here’s the kicker, another “what the fuck” moment… two days later we went to class together. Laurie taught it, other students were there. He watched her with such intensity and enthusiasm to learn, he followed her every move, he stayed with the routine and TRIED!!!! And, did very well, I might add. This reminded me of an old sales philosophy: the people that you know trust you, but don’t believe you. This is why bringing in a third party to inform your loved ones of things that you could easily teach them is crucial. Moms always bring their kids into my salon to have me, an esthetician, tell them to wash their faces – because I’m the third party expert – and for some reason, they begin to do it because I told them to!
So, consider this a series of PSA’s (Public Service Announcements) because I really don’t want to be a rag, I’m going to keep this “solution” oriented. You will be glad to know that Club Bitch is working on video blogs that men can refer to for these various skills. These will be especially useful for young men who really want to impress the ladies… sisters will literally throw themselves at you with these kinda skills!
In our video training I’d like to cover cleaning a bathroom, making a bed, keeping a linen cabinet and then choosing the right linen for the job. We’ll discuss subjects like ‘doing the dishes isn’t the same as cleaning the kitchen’, ‘hot, soapy water, an all purpose cleanser a wet rag AND a dry rag are all need to wipe something down’ and ‘nesting – why it’s important, especially in a small kitchen’.
Today we’ll start with folding and hanging clothes.
Towels, T-shirt, jeans and even boxer-briefs are all rectangular. Corners can be brought together very easily to create a square or a smaller rectangle, these can then be stacked with like items in drawers or on shelves in your closet. When your clothes are folded, sorted and put away correctly, you may feel compelled to keep said items folded and in order while searching for something to wear in between wash days, keeping your closet and drawer in working order. As opposed to this:
Let’s start with the easy ones: sheets and towels. Why is it when I fold a sheet it turns into a perfect oversized chicklet and when a boy folds a sheet it turns into a round wad of material with a four point fringed edge? The interesting thing is that women fold with ease, confidence and grace; but when I watch my sweetie processing it, it is done with such effort, panic and struggle. Remember- stay calm, concentrate on connecting corner to corner to corner, a little smoothing along the way and it’s done!
Towels are very similar. If you have a large linen closet then just fold the ends together twice, in other words: in half, then half again in the same direction- then just one even fold the other way to finish. Sometimes storage space is an issue. If that’s the case, start the same: ends together twice, then take that rectangle and fold it in thirds lengthwise to finish with a compact towel fold.
I’m going to wait on trying to explain how to fold a fitted sheet, as I don’t want to blow any circuits. When we begin our video blog I’ll revisit this.
Pants. It’s best to start the fold on your pants cheek to cheek so the front panel doesn’t get jacked up, especially if you intend to hang them on a PANT hanger, NOT a wire hanger! At this point you can fold them length wise once or twice to stack them on a shelf or in a drawer. If you intend to hang them make sure they are lying FLAT, centered on the hanger. So, start with the cheek to cheek fold, then use the skinny edge of your left hand as a hanger and drape the pants over it. Grab the hanger with your right hand and slip the legs through it all the way up to where your hand is and replace your hand with the hanger. If the pants get squirrely and wrinkled, don’t leave them like this! Simply take a moment to pull the edges and flatten out the mess. If you are hanging dress pants with a seam, grab the bottom of the pant legs and make sure the sewn seems (sides of the legs) all line up, this will help you discover the front fold seam. While holding the bottom of the the legs together in this manner with your right hand, slip your left hand down to the knee area. You can keep a finger between the legs to align them and keep the fold seam in order. Once you are there, hold tight with your left hand and bring your right hand to the back knee area. Now they are perfectly folded, slip your left hand on edge where the hanger will eventually be and grab the hanger with your right and slip it in as mentioned before, smoothing as needed.
I’d like to stop here for now. I hope that this ‘third party’ information will be paid more attention to than what you’ve been trying to get across! We’ll pick up with how to fold and hang shirts and jacket next week. Until then do your own laundry!
Have a bitchin’ day!
T-bone
Bitches Have Got My Back
Today, we were practicing our anthem, “Club Bitch” Laurie’s latest rap. Her words deeply resonate and speak the truth. Through a series of divine interventions, we secured a renowned music producer. He heard our story and our message and he couldn’t help himself. He has put his rep/streetcreds on the line to make it all possible.
We were going through the lightning quick verses and it was clear, I was having difficulty my lines down with the right beat and inflection. I have a problem with my speech. I mispronounce words, say one word when I mean another (saying lobelia for labia), etc. So what do you think my Sister Bitches did for me? Laurie slowed the lines down and Elizabeth suggested saying the line twice slowly for a greater impact.
I will go to bed tonight with a warm heart knowing my Bitches will always have my back.
Love you Laurie and Elizabeth
Spinner!
Let me start by saying if you don’t have a dog – STOP READING! This won’t be at all amusing to you.
If you have a dog, you may get a chuckle out of this – but it’s not guaranteed.
If you have a dog that spins several times before it takes a crap – read on… you’ll feel me!
The other night, after a week of beautiful Spring weather, my sweetie and I were enjoying dinner at one of our favorite noodle haunts and we noticed a woman walk in with an umbrella. Hal and I looked at her, looked at each other and then took a minute to register that it could indeed be raining out. We exchanged a few words in disbelief, paid our bill and headed home with our left overs in hand.
We began the regular evening ritual of being greeted by our three flat faced animals. Two of them are a bit more enthusiastic as they are dogs; the other lifted her sleepy head to acknowledge us – you guessed it, our cat.
After the dogs ate their food (as if they hadn’t been fed in a week) we headed out: dogs leashed up, poop bags in pocket… Hal and I paused, looked at the umbrella, looked at each other and decided since it’s just misty out, we don’t need it.
Taking the dogs out is usually a five to ten minute proposition. We have two areas of ivy that our dogs use as their dumping ground. There is a very set routine that has been established, reviewed and approved by all that are involved.
About 50 yards from the door we experienced a bit of a pick up in the rain. Hal and I weighed the time it would take to go back and get the umbrella against the time it usually takes for the Pugs to do their business and chose to forge on!
There must be a new, large pack of male dogs in the neighborhood that marked every corner of our trusted rout, because despite the now DRIVING rain, Simcha and Auggie were terribly distracted. Us humans were meanwhile getting soaked! I pointed to the sunglasses on top of my head and said to Hal,”hey look, these’ll help!”
Well, Simcha finally ‘did her thing’, but Auggie was dragging his feet… Believe me, when I’ve given them ample opportunity and they don’t produce, I’ll head for home; but sometimes there are ‘telling’ signs that they really need to go (ie: you can see the proverbial ‘head of the turtle’) and this was the case this evening.
Like I mentioned before, they are accustomed to crapping in the ivy, which is super cool because the way I look at it is if it’s in the ivy… I don’t see it, it didn’t happen, there’s nothing to pick up. (is that bad?) So, FINALLY Auggie pops in the ivy and starts to spin, which means it’s a done deal. Any minute we will be inside, out of the rain and taking hot showers, because it’s not just raining – it’s freakin cold out too!
I yell, “Okay Auggie, you’ve spun around three times as many times as usual, I’d fall over dizzy by now!” We’re in total amazement of how many times he’s spun and how wet we are when Hal shouts, “It’s practically falling outta you, you crazy little dog! Let’s do this!!!”
I should have known not to congratulate this dog until his good deed had actually been completed, because the high happy voice of praise slapped him right out of his tail spin and out he jumped from the ivy to continue his search for the pack of hounds that had driven through these parts uninvited.
Hal and I fell apart! Why didn’t we grab the umbrella? Why was I wearing sunglasses? How could he not have gone by now? It was literally falling out of him! Really? Is this really happening tonight, in this driving rain, not to just one of us – but both? All we could do was laugh and wait for him to find his next landing strip. He finally did, with another unusually long pre-spin effort. We stood silently watching, holding in our elation as to not disturb his concentration.
Upon finishing we hooped and hollered and ran the little guys home as fast we could. With my pants having grown about five inches from being completely soaked, I was a bit handicapped – so I tried my best not to eat dirt in our scurry. In the door, we quickly dried their furry little bodies. This activity winds – them – up! They started their “Rocket Dog” routine, by which they tuck their butts under, pin their ears back and run like the dickens! Puppies again!
I quickly rid myself of my wet clothes and, Hal being a gentleman, aloud me to pop into the shower first. The steam of the water was so inviting and I backed up to the shower head, experiencing the full, direct exposure – heat that can only come from a head of hair full of hot water (you ladies with long hair know what I’m talking about)… Completely satisfied with my current state of warmth, I reached up to push the water back off my face and as I ran my hands to the top of my head I startled – and yelled, “oh shit!” Hal came in to see what was the matter only to find my hand sticking out from behind the shower curtain holding my sunglasses.
The Bitches Invade Mexico! The Bitches Invade Mexico!
Senoras-
Four close friends, five suitcases (the extra brim full of tricks and chicanery), tropical sun and heat, 2 for 1 happy hour (commencing at 11 every morning)=stellar vacation!
Oh yeah, we invaded Mexico alright! They never saw it coming, how could they? We stir it up wherever we go. That’s how we roll! And I wouldn’t have it any other way. People either “get” us and want to be a part of it or hate us and would rather be gutting catfish somewhere in the steamy bayous of Louisiana.
You get to a certain age where you don’t give a shit what other people think of you. With that comes the sweet freedom that allows you to embody your true self. And with your sisters having your back, what could be better?
I have to hand it to the wonderful people of Mexico. They didn’t judge us and handled all our craziness with smiles and grace. They taught me to live in the present. (Ok, now that I’m back in the States, I’m still working on it).
It must have been the second day, when Sista Denise and Sista Laurie tried to extract revenge on Sista Marilyn and me for a clever prank played on them on our vacation to Palm Springs (nothing like holding a grudge! LOL) last year. I walked into our bedroom and noticed a large black plastic cockroach on Marilyn’s bed. I picked it up and brought it out to Marilyn. We had a good chuckle. Later, there was a trail of black plastic ants laid out on my sheets in plain sight. We didn’t tell the girls that we found them. I hope they weren’t too disappointed. Let it be known, we’ll have to work something up for the twos of you on our next trip. Be forewarned!
It’s time for a little fiesta and then siesta grande. Further escapades of our trip south of the border coming soon. OLE!
Bitch, please – this is heavy shit!
I was hiking up the 100 foot, muddy trail that runs from Drift Wood Beach to Hwy 1. I’m not good with judging inclines, but lets just say it was strait the hell up! On my back was about 35 pound of drift wood that we will be using for decoration at the Congo-a-go-go Dinner Show in June. (which you have to come to!) About half way up my thighs were burning and my shoulders ached from the weight of my load. About 30 seconds into my pity party I started thinking about our Congolese sisters (our sisters in any third world country, really… and our sisters right here in the US that work their asses off at two to three jobs to support their families). I immediately shut that voice in my head down! Bitch, please!
The suffering that is endured by women all over the world and throughout the ages is a subject that I often have to ignore in order to get through my day. I can’t watch period piece movies about The Witch Hunts or The Inquisition without taking on and truly feeling the pain of the tortured women during those times. I tell you this so that you may understand why I’m able to work hard to raise money for the women in the Congo, without really knowing the whole story of what is happening over there. The real answer is that I can’t handle it! I can’t hear about the atrocities that occur to our sisters every single moment, without punishment to the perpetrators, in this country – where life is hard enough, without having to worry about being beaten, raped and/or killed.
During my second trip up the trail my mind went to the women again. It’s amazing what a good imagination I have, brutal really. It became a flashing collage of horrific images of violence and degradation. I decided to go home and research what the hell I was working for. I mean I should know the answers to the questions our local sisters may have about why they MUST join Club Bitch and what we do, right? I mean, why are we putting all this effort into the Congo-a-go-go Dinner Show? Why should people donate food, wine or silent auction items? Why should every woman in Sonoma County buy a ticket to the event, whether they come or not?
The ocean breeze I felt as I reached the top of the muddy trail reminded me that I am here, I am home, it is not my lot in life to be subjected to the horror and pain… I know enough. I need not know every factual detail in order to feel, in my heart, that the folks that I’ve alined myself with are the right people. I’m not following blindly – they know and I trust.
Please trust that I know, because Club Bitch knows, because Women for Women International knows that women in this war torn country are being abused beyond comprehension – and it needs to stop! We don’t need to know every gruesome detail, let’s just go to work! Become a Table Captain to sell 10 tickets, join Club Bitch, donate an auction prize. Do your part.
Club Bitch already sponsors one woman, Alphonsine. She is getting an education and will be able to start her own business or procure a good job. Having this advantage is liberating to her. The Congo-a-go-go Dinner Show will allow us to sponsor at least six more women. Be there! June 26th 2010.
In loving bitchiness,
T-bone
Could you just strap that pound of butter to my ass?
So, my kid sister had a birthday in January and tells me that all she wants from me is a days worth of baking. This is exciting for me because Jan 1st was day one of my new no sugar, no white flour diet – I hate that word, lets call it my new no sugar, no white flour ‘lifestyle’. I was excited because this commitment to Jennifer to fulfill her birthday wish would allow me a day or two of gorging, something I love to do – which is why I have to give things up COLD TURKEY! There’s no moderation for this kid!
I arrived at my sister’s house to find pounds and pounds of butter coming to room temp and bags of flour and sugar abound. She had arranged a beautiful bunch of red tulips to accompany us (cause that’s how Jen rolls – a la Martha). Our Grandma Ag was watching over us through the eyes of a ceramic rooster that was sitting on Jennifer’s kitchen
counter. Ag had painted that rooster years and years ago when she’d get together with her lady friends to gossip and create white trash art that we would accept graciously… the rooster, that we once looked down our nose at, is now cherished as a symbol of our amazing, yet crazy, matriarch. Had she been with us on Sunday, all of our baking questions would have been answered, instead Jen and I did a lot of our work ‘trial and error’!
Another matriarch, that I never did meet, is Hazel. I got a crust recipe from my sista-Bitch, White Chocolate – Hazel is her mom and I have heard WC quote Hazel so much that I feel like I knew her well. I promised WC that while I was preparing Hazel’s crust I would speak in my very best Ozark-ian drawl, just like Hazel had. Well, it took three of us with six spatulas to get the crust into the pie pan because… “ya’ll can’t tuch the dough, ‘cuz then it wouldn’t be short, now – ya seea, oils from ya haands’ll make it dense”
It’s amazing how nostalgic baking can make you! What really rocked was the seven and a half hours of 1980′s New Wave music we were piping in to keep us moving! At one point, when my sugar high was at it’s peak, I was in the middle of the kitchen doing the dorkiest dance you could possibly imagine to A-HA (or was it Soft Cell?). My sister looked over her shoulder and asked in the most mature, motherly tone, “you gettin down over there?” I sassed back – “yep, and gettin back up again!” It’s so empowering to be such a jackass! Being with people that will accept you no matter how foolish you act – that’s love, that’s family, that’s SISTERHOOD!
We did another happy dance when our Flan turned out. Jen had tried three or four other recipes that failed, so this was huge! By this time we were getting sick to our stomaches, but the victory had to celebrated – by eating it, of course.
The higher I got on sugar the more I started running everything by Maggie, my sister’s beautiful yellow Lab. She’s so wise, I couldn’t help myself. “So Maggie, should we check to see if the flan has set up yet?” “Hey Maggie, is there too much filling in this cookie sandwich?” She had all the answers! Those eyes!
At the end of the day we were screaming along to the Violent Fems’ ‘Blister In the Sun’. Jennifer and I produced a victorious Flan, a candied walnut that still needs some tweaking (if you have a good recipe, let us know – it needs to be on the hard side and able to hold up in a salad), peanut butter cookie sandwiches (the freakin bomb-diggity!), a ricotta pie (that I tried to emulate from the one I’ve had in North Beach at Puccini’s) and chocolate ganache truffles (some of which we infused with chile flakes… wait for it, wait for it…… oh yeah!). We also created a memory of time well spent together, thanks sis!
Let’s see, what else? Seven and a half hours of baking… that’s what we got? Okay, I guess that’s enough… it took us about three
days for our families to power through it all. Thank God it’s gone, now I can get back to that no sugar, no white flour ‘lifestyle’….
Oh, shit! The Girl Scout cookies I ordered are here… Bitch, please!
Enjoy our trip to NY via our pix! Bitche
Enjoy our trip to NY via our pix! Bitches in NYC http://ow.ly/1dnMf
