Wednesday, December 23
Pesto Lasagna
Boil 10 lasagna noodles in salted water. Extra al-dente. Run under cold water, pat dry and set aside. (this is for an 8x8 baking dish - perfect for 2 with leftovers, make more for a 9x13)
Next, in a blender add:
In a sauce pan add:
Now taste it. It should be really good - cheesey, pestoey, and yummy. Add salt and pepper to taste.
In a separate bowl, mix
Bake at 350 covered for 30 minutes, then for 20 minutes uncovered. The top should get bubbly and golden brown and delicious.
Let set for at least 15 minutes before serving.
Pair with a good chianti
Next, in a blender add:
- 4 oz fresh basil leaves
- 1 pint milk
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 2 garlic cloves
- 1/4 medium onion
In a sauce pan add:
- 2 tablespoons flour
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1/2 cup of grated parmesean cheese - please use cheese from Parma, not the stuff in the green can.
Now taste it. It should be really good - cheesey, pestoey, and yummy. Add salt and pepper to taste.
In a separate bowl, mix
- 10 oz whole milk ricotta cheese (not that skim, part skim, or low fat, or reduced fat stuff - trust me, it makes a difference)
- 1 egg
- salt and pepper
Bake at 350 covered for 30 minutes, then for 20 minutes uncovered. The top should get bubbly and golden brown and delicious.
Let set for at least 15 minutes before serving.
Pair with a good chianti
Thursday, December 10
I'm Buff - and kinda healthy
I went for a physical yesterday. Yeah, you need to do that when you get old.
It turned out that I needed a tetanus shot. The nurse came to administer it. I took off my shirt. She put rubbing alcohol on my shoulder. Then she took the syringe and tried to pinch an inch or so of muscle on my shoulder to stab me. She couldn't grab the muscle. She told me "you need to relax your shoulder muscle."
"It is."
"Oh! Nice muscle tone." she raised her eyebrows.
In other medical related news, my LDL number is 168. Yup, that's dangerous - and I'm only 35. Anyway, my doctor has given me 3 months to clean up my diet and get the number down, or he's putting me on statins. He asked me if I regularly exercise, and then withdrew the question - he said I'm obviously getting a lot of exercise. I'm not fat, in fact he'd like to see me put on some weight. But he says I should not be eating so much saturated fat.
Well, sorry doc, I'm going to keep eating the fat. Give me drugs - I wanted to tell him to not bother with the 3 months. I'm not going to stop eating really good food. A daily dose of lipitor should keep my LDLs under 100, with very few side effects. And I get to keep eating bacon and hollandaise. This is a great country.
My doc says that in 5 years or so there should be a drug that will clean out all the plaque in the arteries. You'll take it once every 5 or 10 years and you'll have the arteries of an olympic athlete - even if you eat half a pound of bacon every morning. I can't wait.
It turned out that I needed a tetanus shot. The nurse came to administer it. I took off my shirt. She put rubbing alcohol on my shoulder. Then she took the syringe and tried to pinch an inch or so of muscle on my shoulder to stab me. She couldn't grab the muscle. She told me "you need to relax your shoulder muscle."
"It is."
"Oh! Nice muscle tone." she raised her eyebrows.
In other medical related news, my LDL number is 168. Yup, that's dangerous - and I'm only 35. Anyway, my doctor has given me 3 months to clean up my diet and get the number down, or he's putting me on statins. He asked me if I regularly exercise, and then withdrew the question - he said I'm obviously getting a lot of exercise. I'm not fat, in fact he'd like to see me put on some weight. But he says I should not be eating so much saturated fat.
Well, sorry doc, I'm going to keep eating the fat. Give me drugs - I wanted to tell him to not bother with the 3 months. I'm not going to stop eating really good food. A daily dose of lipitor should keep my LDLs under 100, with very few side effects. And I get to keep eating bacon and hollandaise. This is a great country.
My doc says that in 5 years or so there should be a drug that will clean out all the plaque in the arteries. You'll take it once every 5 or 10 years and you'll have the arteries of an olympic athlete - even if you eat half a pound of bacon every morning. I can't wait.
Wednesday, December 9
Awkward
So Lynn has invited me to a Christmas party. The company Christmas party where she works. Where Tim and Heidi work, too.
Awkward.
For new readers, Lynn is my new girl buddy, who was my old girl buddy, until she started sleeping with Tim. While she was doing that I started dating Heidi -and eventually we ended up sleeping together. How's that for a soap opera. Lynn, Tim, and Heidi all work in the same office - so I guess Lynn has overcome the awkwardness.
You know, it wouldn't surprise me if Heidi and Tim have dated in the past. There's something about them together.
Uh, yeah, how tangled.
Awkward.
For new readers, Lynn is my new girl buddy, who was my old girl buddy, until she started sleeping with Tim. While she was doing that I started dating Heidi -and eventually we ended up sleeping together. How's that for a soap opera. Lynn, Tim, and Heidi all work in the same office - so I guess Lynn has overcome the awkwardness.
You know, it wouldn't surprise me if Heidi and Tim have dated in the past. There's something about them together.
Uh, yeah, how tangled.
Monday, December 7
Contented Bliss
Hello, peeps. Yes, I've been actually having a life and not blogging about one. Lynn and I have been in a serious state of canoodling for the past week. Yes, a week. About 1/3 of the time of our last romantic encounter. And I must say it is probably the happiest I can remember being. We have been inseparable. Doing everything together - including showering. And the sex is amazing. OK, this is probably TMI and will gross you out, but I so love the taste of a woman. Heidi was fun. But she was very conservative when in comes to sex. Her idea of getting wild was doing it with a candle lit. Nothing but the missionary position for her. And seriously - nothing oral, at all. She said she didn't like it. I told her that was probably because she never had it done well. She agreed, but was never adventurous enough to try it with me. I really missed it. Lynn is - well - amazing and adventurous and - wow.
Tonight we parted, briefly, so I could go home - wash clothes and get another weeks worth. Later (after the last dryer load) I'll be headed back to her apartment in Los Gatos.
I have the key to her apartment again.
Maybe I'll get a drawer or two.
Sigh. (of contentment)
I did go paddling with paddle girl on Sunday morning. This was the only time I paddled in the last week. And I simply cannot keep up with her if I don't some extra mileage in during the week. Need to do something about that.
Anyway, she asked about my love life and I gave her the reader's digest version as we shared a thermos of french roast on the dock after our paddle. College buddy, to drinking buddy, to bed buddy, to cheating bitch, back to bed buddy again (new readers, go read here, here, and here, that's the gist of it).
"Do you trust her?" she asked
"Naw." I replied. "But I lover her."
"She's a lucky girl." She shook her head, "Men are weird."
Tonight we parted, briefly, so I could go home - wash clothes and get another weeks worth. Later (after the last dryer load) I'll be headed back to her apartment in Los Gatos.
I have the key to her apartment again.
Maybe I'll get a drawer or two.
Sigh. (of contentment)
I did go paddling with paddle girl on Sunday morning. This was the only time I paddled in the last week. And I simply cannot keep up with her if I don't some extra mileage in during the week. Need to do something about that.
Anyway, she asked about my love life and I gave her the reader's digest version as we shared a thermos of french roast on the dock after our paddle. College buddy, to drinking buddy, to bed buddy, to cheating bitch, back to bed buddy again (new readers, go read here, here, and here, that's the gist of it).
"Do you trust her?" she asked
"Naw." I replied. "But I lover her."
"She's a lucky girl." She shook her head, "Men are weird."
Monday, November 30
Moth to a flame
I think we all knew this post was inevitable. Yup. I did it.
Wrong. So absolutely wrong. I did it anyway.
Here’s the thing. I wanted it. I really wanted it. I know my friend Kristen said that I should be able to stay away for myself. But that assumes that I want to stay away. I don’t. I so f-ing love her. I always wonder why girls go back to the bad boys. Why do I go running back to the bad girl?
Why does the moth fly into the flame?
You know, I do a lot of things that are bad for me. I eat fatty foods. I mean really fatty food – I eat hollandaise sauce. Which is really just egg yolks and butter whipped up together. These are two of the worst foods on the planet for folks who might develop heart disease. Guess what? I’m an American, in all likelihood going to die of heart disease. I love steak sandwiches slathered with mayonnaise. I love eggs benedict. I drink. I drink a lot. I like the way that alcohol makes me feel. I think nothing of sitting down and drinking a bottle of wine – at one sitting. No point in dying of that heart attack and having a pristine liver.
If it feels good, do it. I’ve made peace with the fact that this philosophy will probably shorten my life substantially. And it will result in hangovers, and all manner of other problems. So be it. Maybe one day I will regret this. But for now, I’m being true to myself.
It was Sunday. I was still recovering from a day on the water with paddle girl - so I wasn't up for any outdoor activity. I had read and re-read all the blogs I follow. Check all manner of e-mail accounts – nothing new here. I was bored. No, I knew what I was thinking. I was alone. She was alone – well I presumed she was alone. Maybe she’s banging her neighbor, or another co-worker. Who knows. I wanted to know. I was so hoping that she was alone.
When I could no longer stand it, I called her.
“Hey” she said answering the phone “it’s been a while.”
“How you doing?”
“Not that bad. You?”
“I’m hungry again.” She knew that that meant.
“Good for you. I knew you’d get there.”
I’m glad you had faith that I wasn’t broken for life. I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t know what to say next.
“Are you OK?” she asked.
“Yeah, I just… I’m…” I sighed. Here goes. Hold on heart. Here we go again. “I’d really like to see you.”
“I’d like to see you, too.” was that a sob I heard on the other end of the phone?
There it was again. Yes, it was a sob. Of shame? Joy? Elation? Remorse? Sorrow? Who knows.
“Come over. I’m home. Whenever you’d like.”
“I’ll be there soon.” I hung up.
I took my car (not the truck) and drove down to Los Gatos. I’m sure that I was speeding all the way. As I pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building, I saw her standing in the parking lot. I pulled into one of the visitor parking spaces and she walked up to the car on the driver’s side. I got out and she hugged me tight. We kissed. She started to cry. (I’m just going to assume that these are tears of joy). I cried, too. We stood there in the parking lot for what seemed forever. She pulled back, put her hands on my cheeks, looked me in the eyes, and said “I love you, Rich.” She kissed me again. “I’ve always loved you.” This was like the end of Slumdog millionaire – but without the Indian music and the dancing. You know what I mean.
We hurried to her apartment and stumbled in the door. We hastily undressed each other – leaving a trail of clothes from the door to the bedroom. She was wearing that blue camisole that I just love. I stopped momentarily to admire it.
We made the maddest, most passionate love ever. Twice.
We collapsed into each others arms and I drifted blissfully off to sleep.
Wrong. So absolutely wrong. I did it anyway.
Here’s the thing. I wanted it. I really wanted it. I know my friend Kristen said that I should be able to stay away for myself. But that assumes that I want to stay away. I don’t. I so f-ing love her. I always wonder why girls go back to the bad boys. Why do I go running back to the bad girl?
Why does the moth fly into the flame?
You know, I do a lot of things that are bad for me. I eat fatty foods. I mean really fatty food – I eat hollandaise sauce. Which is really just egg yolks and butter whipped up together. These are two of the worst foods on the planet for folks who might develop heart disease. Guess what? I’m an American, in all likelihood going to die of heart disease. I love steak sandwiches slathered with mayonnaise. I love eggs benedict. I drink. I drink a lot. I like the way that alcohol makes me feel. I think nothing of sitting down and drinking a bottle of wine – at one sitting. No point in dying of that heart attack and having a pristine liver.
If it feels good, do it. I’ve made peace with the fact that this philosophy will probably shorten my life substantially. And it will result in hangovers, and all manner of other problems. So be it. Maybe one day I will regret this. But for now, I’m being true to myself.
It was Sunday. I was still recovering from a day on the water with paddle girl - so I wasn't up for any outdoor activity. I had read and re-read all the blogs I follow. Check all manner of e-mail accounts – nothing new here. I was bored. No, I knew what I was thinking. I was alone. She was alone – well I presumed she was alone. Maybe she’s banging her neighbor, or another co-worker. Who knows. I wanted to know. I was so hoping that she was alone.
When I could no longer stand it, I called her.
“Hey” she said answering the phone “it’s been a while.”
“How you doing?”
“Not that bad. You?”
“I’m hungry again.” She knew that that meant.
“Good for you. I knew you’d get there.”
I’m glad you had faith that I wasn’t broken for life. I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t know what to say next.
“Are you OK?” she asked.
“Yeah, I just… I’m…” I sighed. Here goes. Hold on heart. Here we go again. “I’d really like to see you.”
“I’d like to see you, too.” was that a sob I heard on the other end of the phone?
There it was again. Yes, it was a sob. Of shame? Joy? Elation? Remorse? Sorrow? Who knows.
“Come over. I’m home. Whenever you’d like.”
“I’ll be there soon.” I hung up.
I took my car (not the truck) and drove down to Los Gatos. I’m sure that I was speeding all the way. As I pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building, I saw her standing in the parking lot. I pulled into one of the visitor parking spaces and she walked up to the car on the driver’s side. I got out and she hugged me tight. We kissed. She started to cry. (I’m just going to assume that these are tears of joy). I cried, too. We stood there in the parking lot for what seemed forever. She pulled back, put her hands on my cheeks, looked me in the eyes, and said “I love you, Rich.” She kissed me again. “I’ve always loved you.” This was like the end of Slumdog millionaire – but without the Indian music and the dancing. You know what I mean.
We hurried to her apartment and stumbled in the door. We hastily undressed each other – leaving a trail of clothes from the door to the bedroom. She was wearing that blue camisole that I just love. I stopped momentarily to admire it.
We made the maddest, most passionate love ever. Twice.
We collapsed into each others arms and I drifted blissfully off to sleep.
Sunday, November 29
Your butt is steaming
That's what paddle girl said to me as I got out of my boat on Saturday morning. I usually wear wet-suit pants with a dry-top. But unable to remove the funk from the wet suit, I opted for a better smelling fleece pair of pants. Paddle girl makes me work pretty hard - and I work up a good sweat (hence the funk). My fleece pants were drenched with sweat (sorry if that's TMI) and it was probably 45 degrees out. And it was a funny sentiment.
She then invited me out for breakfast. I agreed to go if she let me use the shower at her house first. Her car is in the shop, so we loaded up the boats onto my truck and headed back to her house. She lives a couple minutes from where we were paddling. I took a shower and changed into fresh smelling clothes. Then she cleaned up. She lives in a 2 bedroom house with 1 small bathroom. She shares it with 3 other girls. She has 4 boats in her garage - including a surf-ski and an olympic racing boat. Cool.
We headed out to a local eatery near campus that caters to college students. While we were waiting for our food, and lingering over coffee, she put her hand on mine. OK, I've been dodging this for a while. Looks like I need to take it head-on.
"Um, I think you're really great, but, I'm not at a point where I can get involved with you." I pulled my hand out from under hers. She looked hurt, and surprised.
"The guys from the paddle club. They talked to you."
"Uh, yeah, they did."
"Bastards. I wish they'd mind their own business. They can't tell me who I can date."
"Before you blame them - first, they didn't tell me not to date you. They told me not to hurt you. There's a pretty big difference. I think they really care about you. At least they mean well."
She shook her head, "Yeah, I guess."
"Even if they didn't talk to me, I couldn't get involved with you, not now."
"Why?"
I might as well come clean. "I'm in love."
"I thought big boobs was gone?"
"No not her."
"Runaway bride?"
I laughed - "Shit, this is complicated. The girl that broke my heart."
"Are you with her?"
"No. But... I don't know. I'm not over her. It wouldn't be fair to you."
She narrowed her eyes. "What? You're going to pass on relationships until you're over her? What about Big Boobs?"
"Big boobs was a bad idea. And I know, it sounds stupid - especially when I'm talking to someone as cute as you. Give me some time. We can paddle together. You'll find some young college stud..."
"You mean immature, poor, boys?"
I laughed. I remember being so unhappy about Lynn being involved with inappropriately older men. Now, that I'm older and wiser, I can see some merit to the arrangement.
She then invited me out for breakfast. I agreed to go if she let me use the shower at her house first. Her car is in the shop, so we loaded up the boats onto my truck and headed back to her house. She lives a couple minutes from where we were paddling. I took a shower and changed into fresh smelling clothes. Then she cleaned up. She lives in a 2 bedroom house with 1 small bathroom. She shares it with 3 other girls. She has 4 boats in her garage - including a surf-ski and an olympic racing boat. Cool.
We headed out to a local eatery near campus that caters to college students. While we were waiting for our food, and lingering over coffee, she put her hand on mine. OK, I've been dodging this for a while. Looks like I need to take it head-on.
"Um, I think you're really great, but, I'm not at a point where I can get involved with you." I pulled my hand out from under hers. She looked hurt, and surprised.
"The guys from the paddle club. They talked to you."
"Uh, yeah, they did."
"Bastards. I wish they'd mind their own business. They can't tell me who I can date."
"Before you blame them - first, they didn't tell me not to date you. They told me not to hurt you. There's a pretty big difference. I think they really care about you. At least they mean well."
She shook her head, "Yeah, I guess."
"Even if they didn't talk to me, I couldn't get involved with you, not now."
"Why?"
I might as well come clean. "I'm in love."
"I thought big boobs was gone?"
"No not her."
"Runaway bride?"
I laughed - "Shit, this is complicated. The girl that broke my heart."
"Are you with her?"
"No. But... I don't know. I'm not over her. It wouldn't be fair to you."
She narrowed her eyes. "What? You're going to pass on relationships until you're over her? What about Big Boobs?"
"Big boobs was a bad idea. And I know, it sounds stupid - especially when I'm talking to someone as cute as you. Give me some time. We can paddle together. You'll find some young college stud..."
"You mean immature, poor, boys?"
I laughed. I remember being so unhappy about Lynn being involved with inappropriately older men. Now, that I'm older and wiser, I can see some merit to the arrangement.
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