Deathwish: driving in Florida

Just a bit of a rant here: The thing that I despise most in Florida (yes, more than the hurricanes) is the driving. Getting on the road in Florida is like juggling a loaded shotgun with both hands full of steak knives. I have had more people swerve into my lane than I can remember, had a two-by-four come flying out of the back of some yahoo's truck and straight into my windshield and today, when I pulled over for an ambulance, the guy behind me laid on his horn.

Bah! I'm going to start kayaking to work.

The curious incident of the soup in night-time

My husband told me a funny story this morning. Apparently, he woke up last night and went to get a glass of water. As he tiptoed quietly back into the bedroom, the loudest fart in human history ripped across the room. It had come from his five-foot-three wife.

He said that he still loves me and is still attracted to me.

We agreed that I won't make black bean soup again.

I love being married.

Incidentally, black bean soup is really yummy and I plan to make it again as soon as he goes out of town. Here's my recipe:

Black bean soup
2 cans of black beans
1 can water
1 cup reciato (Goya makes it in a jar)
2 chicken bouillon cubes
several dollops of sour cream
several slices of lime
salt and pepper

Heat the reciato over medium heat in a non-stick pot. Add the beans and water. Crush the cubes and add them in. Allow to simmer for 15 minutes. Using an immersion blender, puree the soup. Add salt and pepper to taste and stir. Serve with a dollop of sour cream and a slice of lime. I like to make cornbread biscuits to go with this soup.

Makes about 6 servings

Now that I have your attention, allow me to make an ass of myself

I am a dork. I accept this. I'm not a dork in the so-nerdy-I'm cool category -- like Topher Grace. No, I'm just really a big dork. So it is without hesitation that I can say I LOVE the Lord of the Rings movies. Love them. I don't have the figurines or anything (but I know someone who does, cough, cough) but I love those films.

When I was unemployed in New York, scouting for any job not entirely unethical that would allow me to pay my rent (and entertaining notions that I would eventually get a part in a play), I lugged the complete volume set around with me everywhere, determined to finish it before the movies came out. It was my way of keeping my sanity, instead of going bonkers thinking, "OH MY GOD I HAVE NO JOB!" I became really engrossed in that book. I cried when they were struggling to get across the snow covered mountains and actually believed that Frodo was dead when the spider hit him. So I was really hoping the films wouldn't suck and ruin the story I had grown to love.

Not only did the films not suck, but I cried and cried (that means I was moved). In particular, I cried in the third film when Frodo told Sam to get lost. I thought Sean Astin did such a great job that there was no way he wouldn't win an Academy Award. Except he didn't. And I was pissed.

I was so pissed that I complained to anyone who would listen: It's just NOT FAIR (enforcing the what-a-dork thing). And though I wanted to write Sean a letter expressing my outrage, even I won't cross that line to Dorkdome.

So imagine my thrill when I was invited to attend an event where he would be speaking. Finally, I might have a chance to tell him how much he deserved that award and how outraged I had been, perhaps providing him some comfort from his Academy shunning (I mean, aside from the millions of dollars and fame).

It's 11:30 am on Friday March 18th. I'm at the champagne reception standing in line to have my photo taken Sean. I have time to collect my thoughts, asses the situation and make an impression. I am waved ahead to pose with Sean (yes, I will post it as soon as I get it). Here is the entire conversation:

Me: Hello, how are you?
Sean: (putting his arm around me for the photo) I'm good, how are you?
Me: Good (turning to camera and smiling).
Sean: Or is it "well?" I'm well.
Me: Yes, "well." I'm well too.
(shot taken)
Photographer: One more.
Me: (looking at feet) I just have to tell you (said with odd determination)...
Sean: Yes?
Me: You really should have won an Academy Award for the third film.
Sean: Thank you. Why aren't you a voting member of the Academy?
Me: Yeah, I don't know.
Sean: (smiles)
Photographer: (takes second shot) OK.
Me: Yeah, I was pretty upset.
Sean: (smiles and looks expectant, waiting for me to say something else -- CLEARLY not walking away from the conversation)
Me: Well, thanks. (shakes hand)
Sean: Thank you.
Me: Let me just walk away without saying anything else like a complete dumb ass.

OK, I added the last part but that's what happened. I spent the rest of the reception standing across the room staring like a moron.

Now let's get something straight. I don't think he is the best actor in the world. I don't think this is a defining moment in my life. I did not have fantasies that we would run away together and reappear on a red carpet next year. I just wanted to use this event to illustrate my point:

I am such a dork.