Lazy

I'm starting to hate the month of August almost as much as February. I realize I have not typed in awhile, and I really think it is because I am starting to hate this oppressive heat just as much as I hate the oppressive gray of winter. My thermostat is set at 71 degrees making my utility bills ridiculous. I get eaten by mosquitoes even walking to my car. Trying to breathe outside is like drinking soup. The cicadas are about ready to lift up my house and fly away with it. I have not only had to implement a 95 degree rule on mowing my lawn, but a 105 degree rule in which I don't even leave my couch unless it's to mix another icy beverage. Plus, whenever Sophie has to go outside (which, according to the clanging of the bell hanging from my door specifically to alert me to that purpose, is every five minutes), she stands petrified at my deck door before the wall of heat and screaming bugs. I have to literally shove her outside and not five seconds later she is whining to be let back in. Also, I think I am getting claustrophobia from the lack of fresh air and the constant clouds of Febreeze I am having to spray to cover the pet stench.

I am depressed. It is making me depressed, and I just want it to be fall so I can wear sweatshirts again, and I don't have to take into account a 30 minute cool-down period every time I go outside to make myself presentable after a gallon of sweat per 100 feet of walking. I miss football, the pre-season (as usual) just isn't cutting it, and I am sick to death of the Cubs. This weather has gotten me to the point where I don't want to do ANYTHING that involves being outside even driving around in my car. When Mulva takes 20 minutes to cool down, fans blowing, AFTER I shut her down, there is a major effing problem.

Here's to the last day of August and the welcoming of September. Watch out February, you have a competitor. I am thinking that next year, my warm-weather Feb vacation will be matched with a trip to Canada in Aug.

Velvet

Every so often, I come across a song. Maybe I've heard it a million times (as in this case), maybe not, but it just kind of hits me in the right spot. Every year for the past four years for Christmas, my brother, Fatty, makes me a set of CDs. I don't listen to the radio (unless it's NPR) because the radio tends to ruin things for me. Like Fake Plastic Trees. Stupid radio, get a clue. All of my music, I kind of discover on iTunes or via Rolling Stone or Spin or I just randomly hear it. This is where Fatty helps. He has more time to dig through iTunes than I do. Maybe he feels sorry for the fact I am getting old and he wants me to "get with the times." Probably. But to that I say, happy 30th birthday in December! Anyway, this song was on one of CDs. I've probably listened to it 50 times, but TODAY I noticed it. (It takes me a long time to fully digest CDs). I am putting the lyrics here.

The Big Pink - Velvet

I've seen it in my hands, burn in my heart
Seen it in my past, back in my home
But does it make sense to see her again?
I don't, know
I felt it for some time, and not at all
Poison in my head, god love hurts
I'm not looking for love, but it's hard to resist
I don't recall being this dead

She's the only one, lost the best I had
I found her in a dream, looking for me
This heart's on fire, I'll bring myself
Up to fall, and down again

These arms of mine
Don't mind who they hold
So should I maybe, Just leave love alone
You call out my name, for the love you need
But you wont find it in me

These arms are mine
Don't mind who they hold
You're made for me, and I'll leave love alone
You call out my name for the love you need
But you wont find it in me

I've seen it in my hands, burn in my heart
I found her in a dream looking for me.
But does it make sense to see her again?
I don't, know

I can see the end of what I begun
A tale of a love, come and gone
But now my love, no promises
I won't go, falling in love

I've downloaded it on iTunes to try and do some ringtone thing, but I've grown frustrated and have since given up. I highly recommend you give it a listen, especially, scant readers, if you've ever known what it's like to have a broken heart. Oh, and by the way, I know you all love my dog, but Doodoos is stressed out this week and she had an accident in her crate, one I can't bear to type out of fear it will provoke my gag reflex. She needs some time off, so I am giving her a break on being in my blog.

Steak Dinner!

I cooked dinner for my mom tonight. After volunteering to mow my lawn, apparently out of sheer horror at the jungle I had allowed by ignoring my yard in all of its weedy and mosquito-ridden glory, she spent the last TWO days not only mowing, but hacking away branches and pulling weeds and raking and shoveling. I mean, she must have sensed the angry neighbor mob about ready to form outside of my house. I stayed inside and peeked out the window every so often to check that she hadn't been abducted by the raging, bullet-sized mosquitoes that attack any exposed section of flesh during even the most brief ventures outside my house. She did a great job. She showed me the difference between "trees" and "weeds about ready to become self-aware." Hopefully, I did something semi-worthy of her efforts.

Kansas City Strip Steak with Smashed Potatoes and Cucumber/Tomato Slaw

4 KC strip steaks

2.5lbs new potatoes

1 yellow onion, chopped

2 heaping tbsp minced garlic

1/2c heavy cream

1/2 stick butter

2 cucumbers, peeled and sliced

4 tomatoes, chopped

1 red onion, chopped

1/2c sour cream

Balsamic vinegar

olive oil

salt

pepper

A few hours beforehand, put the steaks in a brine. I always brine anything for the grill because I am not very good at grilling and the brining sort of corrects for minor mistakes by making the meat more tender. If you have some time beforehand, it's also a good idea to make the slaw since the longer it can chill, the better for the flavor coming together. Prepare the cucumber, tomatoes, and red onion. Place all of them in a large bowl. Stir in the sour cream. Add the Balsamic a few tablespoons at a time to taste. Add some cracked pepper to taste and put the slaw in the fridge. When you are ready to cook, put the potatoes in a pot and cover with cold water. Leave the skin on. It is nothing to be afraid of. Turn the oven to high until the water is boiling, then reduce heat to medium and allow the potatoes to cook for 30min. Chop the yellow onion and saute over medium heat in some olive oil for about 20min until the onion begins to brown, stirring constantly. Add the minced garlic, and saute about 5min more. Remove the pan from heat and set it aside. Prepare the grill and allow it to heat up. Take the steaks from the brine, pat dry, and salt and pepper both sides, pressing the seasoning into the meat. Once the grill has come up to temperature, put the steaks on, 4min each side for medium rare. Let the steaks sit for a few minutes before serving. The potatoes should be about done. Drain them and place them in a large bowl. Mash them with a slotted spoon. Stir in the butter and the cream. Add the onion/garlic mixture and stir. Finally, salt and pepper to taste. Pull your slaw from the fridge and all should be ready to serve.

I love Balsamic vinegar and usually making this slaw, you use regular vinegar and sugar, but I think just going with the Balsamic adds the sweetness and keeps the whole thing very fresh without any added sugar. Also, my steaks weren't perfect... 5min per side was probably closer to medium well, so above I recommend only 4min. It's SO hard to control heat on a grill, but again, the brine came through so the meat was still tender. Also, I did accomplish a nice sear so the meat ended up being OK. However, I'm not going to be the next Food Network star any time soon. These potatoes were to DIE for. I cut back on the butter from the 3/4stick the recipe recommended. They were still creamy and the garlic and onion really put some flavor in without having to add too much salt. I could eat a trough full of these potatoes. My mom went back for seconds and I almost clubbed her in a caveman-like urge to protect my sustenance.

Just kidding. Love you, Mom. My yard looks great.

Total Lack of Cat Bias

OK, so, you're right. My cats do deserve some of the limelight. They are hilarious as well and insanely smart. Although, by smart, I mean diabolical and plotting my death. This is the alpha cat, Chicken. He is six years old. In this picture, he is chewing on a vase full of fake flowers as I am sitting not two feet away yelling at him to not chew on the flowers. He is an asshole. He knows perfectly well what I am saying. He is pristine, constantly cleaning. He will also do whatever possible to annoy the crap out of me. He likes to escape into the garage and hide under my car. My garage is like a sauna right now, but I still go crawling around after him getting all dirty and sweaty until I give up and go inside. The second I shut the door, he begins squawking. He then comes back in all dusty brown (somehow), looking pissed at me that due to my negligence, he now has to go clean himself again. He is going to be famous someday.

Gross Dirty, The Final Frontier

When my brother was a baby, he had this yellow blanket that had been bequeathed to him by... well, me, I guess. My brother was born when I was six, so by the time he inherited this blanket, it was well-worn and more than a little tattered. He took it with him everywhere, dragging it on the floor, into the yard, to the grocery store. It earned the nickname Gross Dirty as I am sure, scant readers, you can imagine. Instead of the butter-yellow color it was when it was mine, when my brother carried it, it was the color of dishwater. Now, I PROMISE (sort of) that this will be my last post on this matter, but to the left, you will see cow carcass, which has become Sophie's Gross Dirty.

It has been a week, and Gross Dirty no longer resembles any animaloid creature. It has three stumps remaining, which could, I suppose, be considered as legs. There are no feet. No innards. No tail. She ripped the face off this past weekend. I think I found a snoutish thing the other day, but who can tell at this point? However, instead of abandoning this toy as soon as all of the squeaks were gone, as I had previously thought, she carries it with her. EVERYWHERE. She takes it outside to go potty. She lays on top of it when relaxing on the couch. She brings it to bed with her. It stays in her crate when I am at work. It is filthy and it stinks. Maybe I will try to get it away from her so I can wash it, but I am scared because I am pretty sure she likes cow rind better than me, and I don't know what will happen if I take it away. I don't want stumps for limbs.

Sophie cracks me up every day. I have always been a cat person. We never had dogs growing up, so I was unsure of what to expect. I will say this. Dogs love you in a way that cats never could. I love my cats, but I never worry about them like I worry about Sophie. I mean, cats don't spend inordinate amounts of time chewing into poisonous cleaning supplies. I think I was also unprepared for how gross dogs are. I'm sorry, but GROSS. Exhibit A being that disgusting, stink cowhide that Sophie has been carrying around in her mouth for the last week. Plus, Sophie needs a bath this weekend. She smells like Fritos when she needs a bath. Mmm. Fritos, right? NO. No living, breathing thing should smell like corn chips. Plus, it's corn chips x 20. Finally, she will eat ANYTHING. Besides poison. Gross things, like dirty Kleenex, cat litter, anything she finds on the ground (I used to just get annoyed with litterers, now they make me furious, as I have to dig around in my dog's mouth for whatever some lazy ass couldn't throw in a garbage can), and oh yeah, she likes to dig around in garbage cans too... She has recently been taking little mouthfuls of dirt from my house plants, which she then smacks around in her mouth until these little mud boluses are created for her to sprinkle on my rug. This picture here is of all of the detritus she has placed on my deck. This actually does help when I am mowing, but still. The thing on the left is a soccer ball. I have 6' fences surrounding my backyard. I also don't play soccer. Where in the hell did she get this? I don't know, but I doubt she could have found a more disgusting soccer ball. I am actually frightened of it.

I Was Wrong

Annoying cow toy has yet to be retired. Notice the bit of green fuzz that is sticking out of Sophie's mouth? There is still much more carnage to be had. Sophie keeps coming over to the couch and sort of flipping this grungy, soggy cow carcass onto my lap. She may be trying to be sweet by giving me a gift, but look at her face. Look how bitchy she is! She flips it on my lap because she KNOWS how much I hate having this disgusting, slimy thing near me and that I will throw it as far away as possible. Which means she gets to bumble off after it and then act all proud when she returns it to me. She has not yet learned the command "Drop It." I think she pretends that she THINKS "Drop It" means "Tug and Growl" and that "Get that disgusting thing away from me!" means "Drop It."

Sophie's New Toy

I went over to my aunt's last night to see my baby cousin. I brought Sophie with me, maybe not the best idea since most of my time was spent trying to keep her from giving the baby slobber kisses. After dinner, we all went for a lovely evening stroll in the shade of the bountiful elms lining my aunt's street. Um. Not. Our walk lasted maybe five minutes before I gave up and ran back to the house for safe cover in the air conditioning. It took me twenty minutes to stop sweating. Stupid lousy weather. I hate it. Grumble. Ahem. Anyway, I am not only sick of the weather, I am sick of bitching about it. The point is, my aunt gave Sophie a new toy for her to take home. Pictured below is Sophie happily chewing on said toy.

As you can see, scant readers, this toy is MOST exciting. First of all it is soft and cute, which means it should last her all of ten minutes before it is ravaged and strewn about my floor in little cow bits. Second of all, and I can not make this readily apparent in the picture, but this toy is literally gorged with various obnoxious squeak items. Each one of those checks has a squeak. The legs squeak AND the head squeaks. This does not make for good sleep preparation. I was reading, trying to get to sleep last night and she was playing some horrendous squeak-cow-jazz-sonnet at the foot of my bed. Finally, I took the toy away from her. She sat at the base of my dresser staring at it and looking all pathetic and miserable, until she noticed that I wasn't paying much attention and gave up. I finally fell asleep, and had wonderful dreams in which Sophie did not own such a beast of a toy. I woke up this morning to the sound of her huffing puke noise. HORK! HORK! HORK! She puked up fluffy cow bits right in the doorway to my bedroom. Although she did have two infections recently, not to mention a horrible case of fleas from being outside at a bonfire in Bloomington, I had not had to clean up puke in awhile, so I let this one slide.

Now, I am sitting on my couch, catching up on news after having had dinner. I had given Sophie her toy when I got home from work, and she has been chewing and squeaking and rendering asunder all night. Finally, the squeaking just stopped. When I go to look to see what had happened, I find this. Here is a picture of the carcass. You can't really tell, but the cow is missing one of it's feet and it's tail, as well as four or five of the plastic squeaky innards. Oh, and if you look carefully, you can see bits of green fuzz strewn about, which I believe she ripped from the cow's head. Such carnage. Where is Sophie? Well, after striking down with great vengeance and furious anger upon this hapless (albeit annoying) cow toy, she apparently got bored and is now sitting on a rug in another room chewing on a peanut butter flavored bone. Now, I have to go pick up these fluffy green bits and deflated plastic squeaks. I will keep the empty cow hide in case she becomes interested later, but I have a feeling that this pitiful thing has served its purpose.