In the Night

I sat at the end of a pier in New York City, wrapped in the arms of a man who was making me smile. I felt wanted, safe and secure. We giggled at something which struck us as funny and I laid my head on his shoulder. His arms tightened about me making the warm blood flow to my cheeks and head.

There were others about as well, all gazing at the skies and the moon, a plane taking off into the few clouds wispy in the nighttime sky. Ordinary people laughing in small groups, nodding at shared thoughts and talking softly with a look of wonder upon them.

It was a night of lost time and felicity, and all of us out there. This man and myself, all of the strangers, we felt a bond with this sultry and moonlit evening. A bond with each other and life. I felt a joy which had been missing for so very very long.

I awoke from a lovely dream.

~Miss R

Things I like about the New House

1. No elephants trampling about upstairs and moving cinderblocks and 50 gallon barrels at 7:00 a.m.
2. My next door neighbors are also Burners. Only 117 more days ’till the Man burns!
3. The landlord owns a very cool Gay bar and there’s a chance for a piano gig at the end of the proverbial rainbow. Miss R started out her professional career playing piano in the Long Beach Gay bars. It would be a nice full circle kind of touch doncha think?
4. There’s a patio that DOESN’T resemble Little Tijuana in the slightest. I even have a patch of dirt (I shall command it to be grass soon) of my very own.
5. The neighbor’s cat gives Lizzie Borden something to obsess on during her lazy days perched in the window.
6. There’s room for a grand piano in this place!
7. The windows are strategically placed for maximum sunshine in the mornings. It does a morose and misanthropic soul good with a cup of fresh coffee.
8. I can play Ziggy Stardust at Maximum Volume as per directed on the album cover. There’s also room to dance around in a scantily clad manner given my mood.
9. No one takes my parking space. It’s mine all mine I tell you!
10. My 1930’s and 40’s antique pieces go perfectly in this old cottage. Much funkiness is to be had despite the lack of closet space and noticeable lack of electrical outlets.

Things I Miss About the Old Place

1. I knew where everything was
2. ummmmmmmm okay that’s it.

~Miss R

Currently Listening to:

Jimmy Eat World
Clarity

Bitch Bitch Bitch

I think that the Audi is a gonner.

A friend of a friend was over here along with the friend and her two daughters, for 10 hours on Sunday. The entire car was taken apart and the water pump and heater core replaced.
Trust me. This involved taking apart the dashboard, console and every other portion of the damned front end.
The Audi now runs but the stereo no longer works and oh yeah….it spews smoke.
Diagnosis: the engine went sideways when the car overheated due to the water pump and heater core.
Bottom Line: the new (new for me and was to last for 5 years) car I purchased three months ago, and drove for 3 weeks, is now a pile of shit.

Wait (I hear you say) what else is making you kvetch?
Well (I hear myself say) it could be the move.
Grrrrrrrrr.
There’s a reason no one likes moving. It sucks ass. Oh yeah it’s time consuming as hell when you’re single. There’s the triple reason no one wants to help. It hurts your back and every other part of your anatomy. Including the psyche.

So I’ve got two two two stressors going right now.
Stress bad. Alcohol good but if I drink I can’t accomplish the moving.
Oh the horror.

The blogs have fallen off to virtually nada here. These are my reasons.
Do you like them?
Do you think they’re sexy?
Do you think they’d do well on the catwalk?

Yours in the Abyss of Everyday Life,

~Miss R

currently listening to:
Elliot Smith
XO

A New Home

I have found a new place to live. Huzzah.

It’s a funky old cottage built in the 1940’s. Only about 8 blocks from here and still in the same neighborhood. It sits behind a main house and we’re separated by a back yard… and a lot of reality.

The place has a large enough living room to accommodate the grand piano as well as a finished basement. Although the cottage is a one bedroom the basement will be the new bedroom of the Demon Seed ™.  I’m going to separate the large space with curtains so there’s still plenty of storage.
She’ll like it. A stripper used to live down there. Oh yes, the walls are carpeted. In red. This house is already a good story.

Have to begin paying rent as of the 15th which is far too rapidly approaching. I’ll be throwing money at the place to start (and the rent is high)  but the Joy Factor and Happiness Co-Efficient in relation to having my piano are more than worth it.
Got the key today so I can start in on scrubbing and lining shelves tomorrow.

Naturally I’ve paid the full month’s rent on my current place, as well as giving 30 days notice. I’ll chalk it up to good karma points and take the monetary loss.
So if you’re reading this and really love helping people move you know where I am.
This translates to: I’ll be on my own.
So yeah.

Got out and about fairly early this morning. A trip to the market, the gym, the new place to pick up the key and also a tan. Have had the blues so sometimes sunlight therapy helps. Yesterday afternoon it fucking snowed again.
So I go to lie down in the tanning bed and realize that I’m wearing a thong instead of regulation bikini panties.
Dammit.
You know what? That really burns my ass.

~Miss R

currently listening:
Belle and Sebastian
Dear Catastrophe Waitress

A Grand Situation

I’m drinking a lousy Starbucks coffee but it was purchased under duress.
Well, more like stress than duress but what the hell.

Had to have more bloodwork done this morning, so I was out and about at 8:00 a.m. Since there’s a 12 hour fast required prior to the blood draw I couldn’t make my pot of coffee before I left the house. Hence the stale, burnt, bitter Starbucks.
Not that I think that their coffee is garbage. I don’t.
I think it’s shit.

I’ve been lacking in motivation the past ten days and was sick two days last week. I actually went to see a doctor (hate that, having no health insurance) which is why more blood work was instigated.
This lack of motivation has been inspired by some other causes than those of a physical nature. Such as this one!

The phone rings Thursday night and it’s my step-mother. Seems she’s sold Dad’s house. This was unexpected as the gingerbread manse was priced at a million bucks and is located in Idyllwild; that ephemeral mountain town of few people, beautiful forests, snow-covered peaks, no stop-lights, and my old life.

Here’s the problem. Now that dad’s house has been sold I have less than 40 days to get the concert grand piano (oh it’s bigger than a baby grand trust me) into my possession in Reno.
Uh oh. There’s barely enough room for me in this apartment.
In reality this means that I have less than 40 days to find a new home.

I’ve seen a few places out there and so far nothing I can afford or deem safe.  I’m supposed to go and look at a house today. It’s owned by an acquaintance who’s moving out of state and it sounds perfect. Fabulous location, landscaped yard, plenty of room for my daughter, myself, the grand piano, keyboards and antiques as well.
Everything except for one small detail. The rent is almost double what I can afford.
There’s potential though: The house is supposed to be split into two parts, with both having their own entrances. Theoretically this means I could rent the house and sublet half of it.
This frightens the hell out of me. For good reason.

Donna told me to ’take a chance!’ and do it.
I don’t know. It seems that every time I’ve taken a chance recently, well in the past year or so, my luck hasn’t been that great. In fact it’s been lousy and I’m tired of being beat up. Or better yet, beating myself up. The bruises take a long time to heal and while I look good in black, blue just isn’t my color.

In case you’re thinking ’Rachael why don’t you sell the piano and buy a smaller one or simply consider leaving the piano in Idyllwild?’ I’ll tell you that there’s no way.

For one thing it is the sole thing that my father left to me. That piano is alive. It’s more than a gorgeous piece of furniture. It’s more than a musical instrument. It’s more than a piano… which for me is saying volumes.
This Knabe grand has been in the family since the 1930’s. My father learned to play on it. I can remember him playing when I was a little girl and this is what inspired me to learn. When I was a teenager and would visit him on the weekends this piano saved my life. His family then (a psycho step-mother and her psycho brood) were very cold and hostile towards me but I could always escape at the keyboard and into my music.
My father knew this. We shared the gift and love of music through this physical thing made of wood and strings.

So it will stay with me. When I die it will go to my daughter. I hope so anyway. It would be a good legacy. There is no gift so fine as music and memories.

I’ll let you know how the house hunt goes.
Oh, and if you reside in Reno and know of a 2 bedroom place with a living room large enough for a grand piano then please do contact me.
Soon.
Really really fucking soon.

~Miss R

Idiots!

What is the deal. Must be me. Oh sure I knew that when I put something on the web it would be out.

there.

still.

So after I came to see the light i realized that Donna was my hero.

You all know Donna from past comments.
If there were no other reason (than my current neurotic reason) then please watch the amusement grow right here….

http://yoyodyne.wordpress.com/2008/03/17/bring-shrimp-and-hookers/

 

oh hell that is so not enough,

here is Donna’s Blog

Bring Shrimp and Hookers!

Dave and Lisa are in town.

You realize what this means. Normally a late night of excess which may or may not contain any or all of the following:
Vast quantities of Reno casinos, dive bars, dance floors, sushi, swingers clubs, pole dancing, laughter, strippers or nuts. Not to exceed 10% peanuts.

Last night was pretty tame although your intrepid reporter didn’t get to bed until 4:00 in the morning.

Oh sure it always starts out innocently enough. We hang out at Chez Noir for a few hours, enjoy hor d’oeuvres, catch up and try to decide what the hell to do with the rest of the evening. This time we didn’t decide what to do until we physically left the house at 10:20.

We did call Mike several times to see if he’d bring more shrimp and some hookers but he declined on both counts. Probably because we woke him up.
I did get to hear the story of the trip down from Washington though.

Seems Dave beeped going through the metal detector.
So he takes off his jacket and shoes. Still beeps. Security stops him. He takes off his belt and still beeps. Finally they wave the hand held metal detector over his pants pocket and BEEP BEEP BEEP.
They ask him what he’s carrying. He suddenly remembers.
A pocket FULL of bright shiny colorful foil wrapped condoms.
He is then instructed to empty his pockets in front of the now backed-up line of people.

Dave was let go with a stiff warning.

There’s a humorous story that goes along with transporting the bulk quantity of condoms but I’ll leave that for another blog. They’re the amusing off-brand ones too.
Suffice to say that on the last trip I was gifted with enough condoms to last quite a while. Sadly in my case, more than quite a while.

So we started out at my place, hit the pole dancing club and then went on from there and eventually wound up at the Cal-Neva for a quick breakfast at 2:30 am.
After some caloric intake it was back home to see if we could work on that whole eviction thing I’ve managed to avoid since their last visit.

Luckily today is St. Patrick’s Day and the drinking must have started early in the complex. There were no noise complaints. This despite Dave, all 6’3″ of him, standing on my office chair singing and dancing along with a hip-hop video at 3:00 am, Lisa and I laughing our asses off.

They went back to their hotel around 3:30 and I managed to get four hours of sleep.
This morning the house looks fine. The ashtray needed to be emptied, my meager liquor supply had been denuded and the shrimp are all gone. We never did get to the hookers.
Despite this a fine time was had by all.
Maybe next trip.

~Miss R

Currently listening:
The Best of Van Morrison
By: Van Morrison
Release date: 14 July, 1998

I’ve misplaced Sparks again

Today I misplaced two full blocks of Sparks, Nevada. You know the ones I mean? They include 175 Glendale Avenue where the NAPA Auto Parts store is.
The one where my Audi part is waiting.
The part that I already paid for.

I Googled the directions and yet when I drove over there the entire block was missing. The street addresses went from 115 Glendale to 1105 Glendale. Right where you cross over Rock Blvd.

Now for all I know the block disappeared months ago. I rarely venture into Sparks. It’s kind of like a no man’s land right there anyway. Not quite Reno and not quite the City of Sparks. It even looks like a demilitarized zone. Rundown, scary and not a place to settle down and raise a passel of little kids. Or even little winos.
Maybe if your children were partial to Sterno you’d consider moving into this ’transitional’ neighborhood.
So you could transition into fucking abject poverty and head lice. And Sterno.

Anyway, the entire exercise stressed me out and I returned home sans Coolant Reservoir. Figured I’d done enough cruising up and down Glendale Avenue for one afternoon. Hell it was such a blast I’m gonna do it again tomorrow.
After I call NAPA and ask them where they’ve moved their block to.

~Miss R

Currently listening:
It’s Not Big It’s Large
By: Lyle Lovett and His Large Band

A Mundane Post

It was brought to my attention that I’ve been a bad girl.
Not in any way I’m accustomed to either. Or enjoy.

No. I was simply told  “You know Rachael you haven’t been posting much lately”  or words to that effect.

I have an excuse. Hell I have myriad excuses. One of my favorites is this:
Well, I’ve been chatting with a dear friend a lot and writing seems so redundant. I haven’t been home much either.
Pretty lame isn’t it. It is an excuse though.

So here’s a rundown of the past few days. Grab a cocktail or cup of coffee and have a sit-down. Here we go.

Every morning is the same.
Get up. Push the button. Pour the coffee. Get back into bed.
Contemplate the horror that is life.
Get up again. Make the bed.
Check emails, laugh at those less fortunate than myself, write an affirmation (tongue in cheek and only helpful to those who are already tortured and jaded), and maybe go to the gym. Or maybe go skiing. Or maybe just clean the damned apartment.
Hey some days I just stay inside and play shut-in.

Today was a bit different.
Did the usual morning thing and then went out and finally purchased another turntable. I want to burn my vinyl to MP3’s and CD. Well, what’s left of it. Of the hundreds and hundreds of records in my collection there remain about 50 or so.
Divorce(s), moves, attrition, lots of dumbass reasons. I did keep the good stuff. You know, out of print releases, imports, stuff that was never released on CD, or just records that have a special place in my black little heart.

After picking out the turntable (a USB model with a built in power supply/amp so I can hook it up to the stereo as well) it was back home for a thrilling day of laundry.
Yes, Miss R can never get enough of that shit.
Of course here at Chez Noir there are only two types of loads: black and towels/sheets. At least it’s easy to sort.
After two hours of clothing chores it was off to Battle Born Tattoo Studio to have my tattoo re-colored.

Now here’s where I should have done a ‘before’ pic.
Which of course I didn’t.

If you know me (you lucky bastards!) you’re already familiar with the image. It was cool, and my own design but faded out.

My tatt dates back to the year my daughter was born… almost 15 years ago. When I got it I was the only woman in my town that had a tattoo. It was ungodly hip and very scary to most of the townsfolk. As it was meant to be.
Don’t forget, back in those days I was a successful and well-respected (stop snickering) business owner.
Here’s what Blue at Battle Born did for me tonight. All kinds of tarted up!

So tonight I sit here. Slightly sore after two and half hours with a needle plunging in and out of my arm, and my turntable playing through headphones but not through my computer.
Have the software installed but am still incapable of (clearly) getting the wiring right. Or something.
Well tomorrow is another day, and since there’s no skiing until Thursday I predict by tomorrow night I’ll be burning vinyl like a madwoman, arm back to normal, and the rest of the laundry finished.

There you have it.
A boring blog. At least it got written.
Oh you should hear about last weekend though.

I’ll give you a hint:
Friday night started out at the Polo, segued to the Truckee River Grille and a pack of cretins along with the usual suspects, then back to the Polo for dancing, a near collision with DJ Bob-Bobby-Bob-O-Rama, TK’s Table O’ Bitches, dancing, and ending up at the Little Nugget for an Awful-Awful at 3:00 am

Ha, and some of you ask why I don’t write about everything.
You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth.
Okay maybe you can.
It just exhausts me reviewing it.

~Miss R

Currently listening:
Sparkle in the Rain
By: Simple Minds

80’s Survey (My Muse is still on vacation)

1. How old were you in 1980?
Mostly 18 (not much has changed)

2. How old were you in 1989?
Mostly 27

3. Were you a Toys R Us kid?
God no. I had these other cool things. You may know them as ‘books and record albums’

4. Did you watch Transformers?
I was a tad old for that

5. Did you see E.T. on the big screen?
Yes, it was okay. Liked “Close Encounters” better

6. Did you own a Lite Bright?
No and I always coveted the neighbor kid’s. Think I’ll head over to Toys R Us and remedy that resentment right now

7. Who is your Favorite Golden Girl?
Hell if I know. Never watched the show.

8. When someone says “Who you gonna call?” You think…?
Either “Ghostbusters” or “no one” because I rarely use the phone

9.What was your favorite toy?
The neighbor kid

10. Did you have a Pogo Ball?
No. What the hell is a Pogo Ball? Sounds like fun.

11. Did you listen to New Kids on the Block?
I’m thanking all the Gods I was already too old for that crap

12. What New Kid did you have a crush on?
That’s a good one! Sorry, but as a teen my heart belonged to Iggy Pop and David Byrne

13. Did you play M.A.S.H?
Is that like “Doctor” with more gore?

14. Did you watch The Care Bears?
I’m thinking No.

15. Did you have Jelly bracelets?
No but I remember those grotesque Jelly shoes. Eesh. Ugly And Uncomfortable.

16. Did you have a charm necklace and/or bracelet?
Oh yes. It went so well with my leather skirt and converse high tops.

17. Did you own a glo-worm?
Is that a toy or a drug?

18. Did you ever own a slap bracelet?
God, what is all of this crap? Was I missing out on important shit while playing all those records over and over in my apartment?

19. The Breakfast Club or Sixteen Candles?
Sixteen Candles by a mile. Bonus: It still holds up after all these years

20. Did you have a crazy hair style?
Yes children, I sported a spiked neon colored ‘do for a few years.

21. What was your first bike?
Huffy-style. Fun one. I used to jump off of it while in motion and land in neighbor’s yards, which explains some memory loss.

22. Name one thing you still own from your childhood.
My low self esteem.

23. Did you have a Cabbage Patch Kid?
No. They are eerily reminiscent of a hydrocephalic.

24. Did you dress like Madonna?
Madonna dressed like me

25. Rainbow Brite or Strawberry Shortcake?
I need to write a shiny new quiz for those of us who were in our LATE teens and twenties during the 80’s. Dear god.

26. Did you watch Miami Vice?
Really liked the music at the time, which was pretty radical for a TV show. Go Jann Hammer

27. Did you own a pair of Jelly Shoes?
What is this obsession with jelly?

28. Did you own a Trapper Keeper?
Is it a toy or a drug?

29. Atari or Nintendo?
Atari!

30. Did you play Pac-Man?
Oh, yeah.

31. Which was better: Jem and the Holograms or Barbie and the Rockers?
Well, I don’t know about Barbie (I suspect she’s a talentless hack) but I did watch Jem a couple of times and seem to remember that the “villain” band was called The Misfits (without Danzig and Jerry Only or the songs about murder. I think).

32. He-Man or She-Ra?
How about neither

33. What movie scared you the most?
Hmmm probably Halloween

34. Did you try to dance like Michael Jackson?
No. I’m far too white for that.

35. What Is The First Thing That Comes To Mind When You hear Flux Capacitor, Great Scotts?!!!
Besides a DeLorean? Going out to the desert with the rest of the Creative Services department from KREN and beating the shit out of an old TV, using baseball bats (that’s another story). We took the television remains and left them on the desk of the head station engineer, along with a work-order that said…. ‘Broken Flux Capacitor. Please repair and return to Creative Services’.

36. What other colors did Pepsi come in?
Was there a Clear one? Marketing was just a pointless in the 80’s.

37. Roger Rabbit Or Howard The Duck?
The movie Roger Rabbit is fabulous. The Howard the Duck movie was horrendous. The comics rocked though.

38. Did you ever beg your parents to have your school picture taken with the LASER background?
Uh, I was already in college by 1980.

39. Do you know what the Ninja Rap is?
Does it have anything to do with turtles?

40. Do you know why people cringe when they hear the word BUCKNER?
Can I buy a vowel?

41. Can you name the family members from National Lampoons Vacation movies?
Given enough motivation I probably could.

42. Did you have pump sneakers?
No. What part of high top converse didn’t you get? Although later in the 80’s I migrated over to high-top Reeboks. One pair in black and one pair in bright pink.

43. Did you own HYPER COLOR shirts?
No and I’m not sure what those are. If you mean ugly-ass flourescent shirts, oh yes I had one of those.

44. Did you watch Smurfs?
No. Not even accidentally when I was hung over.

45. What do you miss most about being a kid?
Jumping off my bike onto the lawns of my neighbors.
It doesn’t work as well in a car.

Saturday Survey Says….. Procrastinate

 
1. Do you know someone named Amanda?
Yes. She makes a kick-ass Thanksgiving dinner too

2. Do you know anyone named Chris?
Several people, including myself

3. Ever kissed anyone with a name starting with R?
Yes, it was nice.

4. Ever kissed anyone with a name starting with J?
See above. Hey, I like to kiss.

5. Do you have any siblings?
One

6. Do you look alike?
Fuuuuuck. That’s a resounding no in case you were wondering

7. What color are the walls in your bedroom?
Tacky Apartment White ™

8. Are you named after a grandparent?
Yes. Two of them.

9. Are you a heavy sleeper?
What is this sleep you speak of?

10. Who did you last hug?
TK

11. Are you taller than 5′3?
Only in my FMPs

12. Eaten a bug before?
Both accidentally and dipped in chocolate

13. Ever see a dead body other than at a funeral?
Sadly yes.

14. Who do you love?
Am I supposed to sing along now?

15. Who is your best friend?
My best friend knows who they are.

16. Who was the last person to send you a text message?
This is a No Texting Zone

17. What are your initials?
RCB

18. Do you like to read?
Like it? I live for it.

19. Are you a jealous person?
Innately? Yes. I think most human beings are. It doesn’t correspond to people specifically either.

20. What made you smile today?
A phone conversation

21. What did you do today?
Got out of bed. Went to the market. Got back into bed.

22. What did you do yesterday?
What DIDN’T I do yesterday. Hell, I didn’t get home until 3:00 in the morning.

23. What’s the first thing you would do with a million dollars?
Leave the fucking country for someplace warm.

25. How many hours did you sleep for last night?
four (a banner evening)

26. Who was the last person you had a sleep over with?
Honey there’s a damned divet in my bed because the only one who ever sleeps in it is myself.

27. Who’s the last person that creeped you out?
It takes a lot to creep me out. After all, I’m a parent.

28. Do you like your school?
What?

29. What jewelry are you wearing?
One diamond earring and two silver earrings

30. Anything fun happen today?
I haven’t checked the ammo supply yet

31. Anything bad happen today?
I haven’t checked the ammo supply yet

33. Are you mad at anyone?
Mad? No. I normally get over anger quickly. I’m probably far too forgiving. Okay I am.

34. What’s the last thing you bought?
Time

35. Have you cried today?
Not yet, but it will happen.

36. Do you think someone is thinking about you right now?
I doubt it.

37. Do you have shoes on?
I don’t even have pants on.

38. What’s the closest thing to you that is pink?
Ummm, there are some neon pink fishnets in my top drawer. Not much pink here at Chez Noir.

39. Do you get annoyed easily?
Depends on the Annoy-er

40. Are you photogenic?
God no
–shudder- (as opposed to –shutter-)

41. Do you like to draw?
I only draw people… to the brink

42. Are you good at saving money?
I have no idea. I’ve never had any to save.

43. What should you be doing right now?
Discussing dinner plans with Stephen Hawking. You gotta be careful. Steve is a fucking messy eater.

44. Who’s the sexiest person alive?
Besides myself?

45. Do you still watch cartoons on Saturday mornings?
No. On Saturday mornings I drink Bushmills and watch porn. I watch cartoons on Wednesday.

46. Is there a secret you’ve never told your best friend?
Probably. That’s why it’s a SECRET dumbass.

47. Have you ever told someone you hated them?
Once or twice. I don’t really hate anyone. I just don’t care.

48. Have you ever changed your clothes in the car?
Hell yeah.

49. What are you doing in 2008?
Let me grab this Ouija board….

50. What is your ring tone?
I wouldn’t know. No one calls me. Oh yeah. I just don’t care.

Day Two: I Fall Down Go Boom

Let’s say you’re heading downhill at a rapid clip on a steep-ass mountain face, and you feel yourself lose control of a ski. Do you know what happens almost concurrently? Your stomach careens out of control as well.

Luckily for this writer there were no injuries incurred. I was covered in snow from pigtails to boots, and had to attempt the amusing crab-walk-thingy-sideways-uphill-movement to retrieve a pole, but other than that no worries.
Jesus. It happened on a steep run but not a seriously difficult run. Grrrrrrr.

It’s one of those things you’d like to blame on an inanimate object, the weather, an ex-husband (see inanimate object for further details), or a deity.
In my case it was Operator Error.
I hate it when that happens.
Not a rock, or ball of ice or some kid slamming into me or even crossing skis.
Nope. Just fucked up somehow.

I go through a lot of life this way.
Wanting to blame outside influences for the falls and bruises but ultimately realizing that someplace along the line I’ve made a damned mistake.

It’s a great day when the worst to befall you is winding up ass deep in snow, face wet, gloves full of ice and feeling foolish.
Yep. A fine day indeed.

~Miss R

Currently listening:
Monty Python’s Spamalot (2005 Original Broadway Cast)
By: Eric Idle
Release date: 03 May, 2005

Skiing with The Goddess Rachael

So I finally got in the first skiing of the season.
Oh sure you scoff. You say ‘Why Rachael! The season will be over in another three weeks.’
This may be true. Actually it is.
Fiddle De Dee.
Today was spec-fucking-tacular.

Figured out how to use the ’ski bag’ option on the Audi and it’s pretty spiffy.
You open a panel in the back seat and a ski length rubber/plastic tube rolls out. It extends through the middle of the backseats. Your skis don’t drip water all over the car and you have the entire cargo area for boots, jackets, bags, chainsaws and body parts.

Coolness. No wrestling the back seats down or manhandling the skis and poles onto the roof. I like.

This is my first year without a season pass at Mt. Rose, making the pastime of skiing hard on the wallet. So, it’s a good thing I didn’t have a vehicle or any cash until late in the season after all. Flying Spaghetti Monster works in strange and mysterious ways.
Similar to myself.

Started off on a green run to make sure I was still as spastic as last year. Check.
Took the next run a bit faster, then by the third run was working on style (it’s a way of doing!) and by the fourth was almost up to speed.
By the fifth run of the morning I was flying. I felt like a Goddess of the Snows.

I forgot that there’s something I’m actually good at.

A feeling of euphoria and perfect happiness comes when your body, mind, heart and soul are in sync.
It is the moment when body goes on auto-pilot and mind catches the sights and feelings without working on the mechanics of the act.

It’s difficult to articulate.
To paraphrase the Supreme Court… ‘I know it when I feel it.’

For me it only happens with skiing and playing music.

Today I felt that total integration. The sheer joy. I laughed and cried and grinned like a fool.
It’s my religion and spiritual path. Thankfully church was virtually deserted and I had the place to myself.

By the last few runs I had the iPod cranked to 11 and was scaring the crap out of the boarders on Kit Carson and the Slide side back bowl.

I’m screaming down that last run singing along at the top of my lungs and purposely kicking up snow when I carve….

‘OH IT’S NOT THE SIDE EFFECTS OF THE COCAINE… I’M THINKING THAT IT MUST BE LOVE!’
Am pretty sure some guy mouthed ‘who the fuck was that bitch with the braids screaming Bowie tunes?’

Well that about covers my morning. Will be back up there again tomorrow. There are Black Diamonds to conquer and it’s Ladies Day;  a lift ticket is $19.00. Cheap cheap cheap.
Also similar to myself.

Tonight I’m gonna cuddle up with a big bottle of ibuprofen and a heating pad. The quads are already screaming in agony.
Oddly enough my past week at the gym hasn’t made up for missing the previous 6 months of work-outs.
Go figure.
I like the burn, and after all… Pleasure is the child of pain.

~Miss R

Quiche, Grindhouse, and Gaijin at the Noodle Shop

There’s a little known law of science. It goes something like this:

If Rachael (when Rachael = a) cooks an elaborate meal (when Elaborate Meal = b) comes into direct contact with houseguests/moving objects (when Moving Object = H)
Then A multiplied by B divided by the speed of H = No Fucking Leftovers in my fridge.

Above mentioned visitors did bring a chocolate cream pie with them, of which half is still in the reefer. I won’t actually eat that though. Now if there were quiche left that would’ve served for another two night’s meals.
It was rich.
Tasty.
Bad for you.
In other words it came out perfectly. A full pound of cooked bacon. Lots of half and half. Gruyere, Swiss and Mozzarella. Sautéed mushrooms and onions. Flaky crust.
Yep. Good and good for you.

After consuming this feast we went over to Harrah’s for an hour or so then stopped at Blockbuster to rent Grindhouse, the Quentin Tarantino ‘drive-in double feature’ released last summer.

It was fun. Straight-ahead Tarantino fare. Lots of over the top violence and a perfect homage to the ’70’s fast cars/tits and ass/chock-full-o-violence B flicks.
I should know. My formative years were spent immersed in those films. Gah. I lived for (and at) B movies as a pre-teen and teen.

Both films were enjoyable fun and the first one, Planet Terror, had a zombie plot. It was directed by Robert Rodriguez (of Sin City).
You all know I have a soft spot in my heart (and brains) for Zombies.
As an added bonus what’s not to love about a peg-legged stripper heroine?
The second piece is Death Proof and was directed by Tarantino. Nice work by Kurt Russell playing a total psychopathic stuntman killer.
You see, there’s always that quirkiness that makes any Tarantino flick amusing.
Still…. There was the lingering feeling of ‘move along nothing (new) to see here.’

Damn Quentin. Enjoyed the movie but was hoping you’d push some new button, if not boundary.

This logically (in Reno) brings us to the eternal question of white people eating in Asian restaurants.
We visited a Vietnamese place for lunch. Just a little family run place.

I tasted something which sounds fairly vile but was actually quite tasty. This soup contained everything from tendon to tripe to brisket but I always try something new given a chance.
I ordered something that sounded quite tasty and was quite tasty.
The food was delicious.
The cleaning bill will be stupendous.

What is it about the inability of white people to eat Asian food in public?
Here’s a test I’ve devised. It’s called

Find the Gaijin!

FIRST: pick out an Asian restaurant. Any type will do. Korean, Vietnamese, Chinese, a Sushi Bar, whatever.
NEXT: put a bag over the head of all the patrons.
Sure they’ll struggle momentarily but explain it’s all for science. Or hit them over the the head with a Sapporo bottle.
Now you’re ready to play!

Q: How do you discern the white people in the crowd?
A: Count the number of noodle bits, soy sauce/rooster sauce blotches on their shirts.

I Guarantee you’ll Find The White People.

Fuck. I had actually left the house in a gray shirt as opposed to my requisite black. You know what happened don’t you.
This is why I wear black.
No. It’s not just a fashion thing.
It’s because I can’t use chopsticks or big-ass ceramic spoons for shit.

Thankfully this white girl cooks a mean quiche.
Hai!

~Miss R

Currently listening:
Eyes Open
By: Snow Patrol
Release date: 09 May, 2006

Why the Germans Will Always Lose the War

It’s the cars.
No not the cars specifically.
To be more precise it’s the engineering tunnel vision.
I ditched the Zamboni (image 1) for a ‘94 Audi (image 2) . Finally.

Love the new ride. Handles like a sports car, even though it’s a hatchback with AWD. I can make it up the mountain and ski again. Thank goddess.
It also has 230,000 miles on it.
Said Teutonic-Mobile is in pristine condition. Meticulously maintained and not a dent on it. If you look under the hood -as with all German cars- it’s spotless and appears virtually free from mechanical devices or wiring. Weird.

Okay this is why the Germans are fucked forever:
I’d been out all day getting the thing smogged, registered, insured yadda yadda. I’d finally gotten to the gym and it was dark out.
I couldn’t figure out how to use the headlights. I’m parked in front of the gym and it’s pitch dark and I gotta get home.

Oh sure I appear the total cretin but it’s just an act.
Stop laughing right now.

I’ve had a bevy of cars over the years. New and Used. Foreign and Domestic. Just like the men in my life. So, what’s a girl to do? Why, grab the owner’s manual from the glove box; where by the way I DO keep a pair of gloves.

I peruse the glossary for anything resembling:
Headlights, operation of headlights, turning on headlights, headlamps, so you wanna use your headlights, where are the fucking headlight controls, headlamps R us… anything.
I find a single brief page on lights.
It explains in explicit detail the method in which to change the bulb in your headlight.

What I do find is more than 20 pages PLUS a full chapter on the ski bag feature.

Not that this is a bad thing. Especially since I ski. Hell I didn’t know that there was a ski bag feature. It’s just that all I wanted was to turn on the headlights.

I finally figure how to turn on the headlights. Accidentally. Despite the worthless manual.
Operation is totally counter-intuitive and involves two levers on the steering column.

I’m thinking of a ski trip tomorrow afternoon so maybe I’ll relax tonight. Grab a glass of something yummy and that hot spicy Audi owner’s manual.

And that’s why the Germans will never win a war.

They’re too concerned with the big picture. The options. The Fourth Reich.
Hey Shultz. What about a little fucking light in here? I can’t concentrate.

~Miss R

Currently listening:
Seconds of Pleasure
By: Rockpile