Las Vegas: A Food Network Junkie's Paradise...

Technically, today is my Friday since I'm flying to Las Vegas tonight and don't have to work tomorrow. Short work weeks are nice.

I'm excited about Las Vegas; it's a fun city to visit. I'm not a huge gambler, for the most part the most ambitious I get is playing up to nine cents a spin on the penny slots. Rarely, I will play a dollar in the 25 cent slots but usually once I spend a dollar with no profit, I usually slink back to my penny slots.

Ironically, though it's the city's best known pasttime, gambling is not the best thing about Vegas, not in my opinion.

Prior to my becoming a Food Network Obsessed Junkie, I used to enjoy the spectacle of the casinos a lot. As you walk down the strip, each casino is trying harder than the last to get you to come inside. From the fire-lit waters of Treasure Island after their evening spectacles to the traditionally engaging dancing waters of the Bellagio, you could spend an entire evening just going from free show to free show without gambling a penny.

Inside the casinos is another story. I find some of them slighly dizzying- Paris, for example. The inside of the casino has blue skies on the ceiling, as does Venice and though you know it's a casino, there's something bizarrely surreal about trying to pretend you're outside while you're actually inside a room filled with clanging, tinging, ringing, trilling slot machines.

Of course, now I'm a Food Network Junkie, I have a horrible feeling I'm going to feel differently about my priorities in Vegas. Being the new hot spot for celebrity chefs, there are restaurants galore there including efforts by Bobbie Flay, Mario Batali, Todd English and many other Food Network favourites. The last time I went with friends, a couple of them wanted to see the outside of Mesa, Bobbie Flay's restaurant in Caesar's palace. They didn't need to go in. They wanted to see it.

I thought they were a little strange. I couldn't figure out why you'd go look at a restaurant and not eat there.

I owe them an apology. I get it now and I hang my head in sheepish embarrassment. Having learned about the abrasive and arrogant charms of Bobby Flay and his talents with food...I understand.

I'd do the same for Mario Batali's restaurants in the Venice Casino.

Yes, I am aware I sound like a fruitcake.

The thing with Vegas is that there's too much good stuff to eat. Almost every casino offers a buffet ranging from the spectacular to the Sizzler-esqe-sadly-hopeful-but-failing-miserably attempts of the lower budget casinos. Restaurants like Flay's Mesa and Batali's Carnevino Italian Steakhouse and B & B Ristorante are expensive for the frugal traveler like myself. Don't get me wrong, I'd splurge in a heartbeat if I had the time and money. Yet this trip especially is two days long and I'm watching my wallet so if I'm going to spend $30 on a meal, I'm likely to go to a buffet. Now, if I knew Bobbie Flay or Mario Batali were going to personally cook for me, I'd reconsider.

I find it ironic that one of the main reasons that I'm going to Las Vegas is because Green Day are playing tomorrow night and I have tickets. Don't get me wrong, I can't wait for the Green Day concert. It'll be fantastic, I'm certain. Yet I do find it rather curious that I'm getting as excited about the Food Network-y ties of the city as I am about the concert.

Still, I'm sure regardless of if I get to peer longingly into the windows of any of the restaurants, I'm going to feel slightly dorky and slightly happy. Rather like when I went to Comic-con. For the longest time, I tried to pretend that I was just a little quirky. Over the years, the fact that I'm just a full on geek/nerd/peculiar person is just getting too hard to hide so... I'm embracing it. The beautiful thing is that the people who love me know I'm a dork and thus, they allow me to go with it. This is why I know that my good friend who I'm excited to meet in Vegas will indulge me should I feel the need to do a 'walk-by' of Mr. Batali's restaurants. Of course, she's very logical and I expect her to suggest that we go inside because that is what normal people do.

Me, I'm just happy to see it. But, then again, we've established....normal doesn't really live here, does it?

Happy Thursday.

Impulses of Rain and Morning Reflections on Lestat...

I'm giving up on weather reports. I've said similar things before but I think this time, it's time. I think even the Fox 19 weather man is giving up on trying to get it right and instead is concentrating on really pretty ways to say he doesn't know. We've supposedly supposed to have had three days of thunderstorms so far. So far, we've had three days of cloying humidity, beating-hot sun and puffy white clouds. I think it might have rained a little here where I work but where I live, there's been no rain.

Today, the weatherman said, "There might be little impulses of rain throughout the day depending on where you are."

I found this to be rather hilarious. First of all "Impulses of Rain" sounds like either an Indie rock band or an Oprah-esque novel. Second of all, to me, what it really sounded like he was saying was that it might rain. Somewhere. If it's not raining where I am, it might going to rain somewhere else.

I noticed on Monday, he was rather gung-ho about the storms, we were definitely going to get them. As the week is progressing, he's looking a little more dejected as though he can't believe he has to say the same thing when he knows that he's probably wrong.

I suppose I can't blame him. He's probably not doing his own meteorological reports. He's probably pulling them off the wire. So it's not his fault and I should probably feel sorry for him because he knows that he's probably wrong. It has to be hard on your self-esteem.

So, while I await for the pattern of thunderstorms I've been told to expect, I'm now currently squinting a little because the sun is now pouring in through my basement window. Sometimes, I feel a little like I'm below deck of a ship because we have this little glass blocks above us that are supposed to feel like windows but do little more than let us see if it's daylight or night. Unless it's the morning and then we sit for a short period of times, trying to ignore the glare as the sun rises up into the sky.

It's one of those days that needs a big storm. The humidity is out of control and it's making everyone feel sluggish and bad-tempered. I'm not just projecting. I think there's definitely something in the air on days like this that affects us as humans. The pressure builds in the atmosphere and we feel it.

I know I'm trying to fight the urge to be snappy and irritable. I'm not the only one; I've noticed my coworkers feeling the same way. It's silly, for me, the things that seem to put me in a bad mood. On my way to work this morning, I passed by a gas station and as I did so, a car decided to pull out and cut me off, forcing me to slam on my brakes. Not only did she cut me off and scare the crap out of me, she decided she didn't like the fact that I had to tailgate her as a result of her sudden movement and rather than speed up, she chose to drive at 25 miles an hour until I pulled back.

I confess, when people tailgate me, this is the exact same thing I do. I slow right down and irritate them to the point that they sheepishly give me some space. It works almost all of the time. Then I accelerate back up to a good, sensible law-abiding speed. They can either pass or follow suit.

However, with the girl this morning, it wasn't like I had any choice! She cut me off with such a short amount of space that by the time I'd braked, I was a little too close to her for comfort.

I'm hoping this is just a bad week for commuting, not a sign of things to come. Next week, the kids around here start back up with school which means the added bonus of morning school buses. I'm not sure if that will affect me but, if it does, you'll hear about it.

I think the reason I get so frustrated with bad drivers in the mornings is that, as I've mentioned, my commute is my meditation time, my time to just relax, reflect and enjoy the beautiful country. I like it to be a reliable thing. With bad drivers factored in, my reflection time is considerably reduced. I don't like that.

Still, I better get used to it. At least this morning, until I got cut off, I did get to reflect. Sadly, my thoughts were not terribly deep, they were, actually, rather shallow and dumb. You see, yesterday, I heard that, in the wake of the current vampire trend, Hollywood is now considering reviving Anne Rice's greatest vampire creation: The Vampire Lestat.

As I mentioned in several prior blogs, I hold Anne Rice up to be one of the best vampire writers out there, at least in her earlier books. She was an original creator of the romantic vampire, the sexy, 'rockstar' vampire, the brooding vampire. Without Anne Rice, we'd have no Buffy the Vampire Slayer, no Twilight and no Sookie Stackhouse novels.

The problem I have is that Hollywood doesn't seem to 'get' Lestat. This was clear when they cast Tom Cruise in Interview with the Vampire. While I think Tom Cruise tried really hard he....wasn't Lestat. Hollywood tried again with Queen of the Damned, casting a more unknown actor, Stuart Townsend, as Lestat. He was closer but the film was so terrible, it wasn't worth watching.

Now....it's Robert Downey Jr. who has seems to be wanting to play the character. I love Robert Downey Jr. I think he's an amazing actor. I've liked him for many years, from his earliest roles in Less than Zero to his recent comeback as one of Hollywood's best. I still think one of my favourite roles of his was in Heart and Souls, a cute romantic comedy that still makes me smile. He was good in such formulaic crap as Only You. He was good in Natural Born Killers. He's just a good actor.

Recently, I've been excited to see him play roles like Tony Stark in Iron Man. It suits him and he's fun to watch.

But...I think it's safe to say, dear Robert, back away from Lestat. Back away.

You see, Lestat is immortal because, well, duh, he's a vampire. He's also written to be devilishly handsome with a side of sociopathy. He's also...quite young.

Robert Downey Jr. is not as young. That's why he's as good as he is. I love him as Tony Stark, the rich, attractive business man with a world-weary streak and a penchant towards alcoholism. I think he's going to make an excellent Sherlock Holmes, his dry with and deadpan humour perfect for the role.

But...Lestat? Really? I think, Mr. Downey Jr. that maybe it's time to take a step back. We know you're the hottest actor in Hollywood right now. We know you're very talented and are picking great roles but I think this time, you can take a pass.

I just can't see Lestat being in his forties. It just doesn't work for me. The closest I've ever seen to the Lestat I pictured in the books is Eric from True Blood. Eric is very Lestat-ian. He's ruthless, sexy, cruel and funny. But...I like him as Eric. I'm just saying that I think he's the closest the screen has come to getting Lestat right and he's not even playing Lestat.

So, perhaps you can see why the Robert Downey Jr. picture in my mind as Lestat is a wee bit...ridiculous. I'd like to be convinced otherwise but I'm rather afraid that once again, the attempt to bring Anne Rice's novels to life is going to fall a little flat in the attempt to make it a big Hollywood attempt.

Wow...I'm rambly today. I apologize, once more. As I've said, sometimes when I sit down to blog, I don't always know what I'm going to say. Today, it rather got away from me. That's what happens when I don't get smooth morning reflection time. Here's to tomorrow and hoping for an easier commute.

Happy Wednesday!

Stuck in the Slow lane....

I left for work early twenty minutes early today since I have to to the eye doctor tonight and leave work a little early to do so. Unfortunately, I still only managed to arrive at work five minutes early due to the fact that I got stuck in a parade of cars.

My commute to work is a little tricky; the first part is easy, there's an interstate that offers plenty of options to change lanes and move at the speed you like. The second part is harder; it's a two lane highway full of hills and curves with absolutely no way to pass.

I usually don't need to pass. There are occasions when I get stuck behind a slow driver but when I say slow, I mean someone doing the posted speed limit of 45 mph. I tend to like to go about 55 mph. I mean, that's not exactly fast- it's normal. It's not an unsafe road but I think the 45 mph limit is set because it is a little hilly. Nevertheless, though I get slighly irritated at having to go the speed limit, I live with it.

Today, however, I got behind one of those drivers. You know the type I mean, someone you can tell does not like to drive and doesn't do it very often. At first, I thought it was a little old lady based on the way she was driving but some time later, I discovered it was a young woman.

I tried to be patient. I don't like to tailgate and though she was going 35 mph, I tried to keep a safe distance. Unfortunately, she was a braker. Every now and again for no reason whatsoever, she'd put on her brakes. I'd have to brake, the person behind me had to brake, the person behind them...and so on.

I didn't mind at first but as I'm on the highway for over 20 miles, you can imagine how frustrating it is to be stuck behind a driver like this. Unfortunately, I wasn't the only one. I was directly behind the 'leader of the parade', second in line. Behind me, no exaggeration, there were at least 15 other cars, all positioned a car's length away from one another, all victims of The Slow Driver.

We were like that for 20 miles. I was a little irritated after about ten of those miles. I'm never the most patient driver. I'm not Ms. Speedy by any means but I'm a firm believer in at least going the speed limit, if not five miles over. I'm also a firm believer that if you are uncertain about driving or are out for a slow-paced joyride, you should NEVER choose to do it during the heavy morning commute time. It's just plain rude. It wasn't only me; I'd venture to guess that at least 90% of the cars were on their way to work and, as a result of Ms. Slow, we were all thrown off schedule.

I know, I know...I'm probably being unfair. It wasn't her fault; it's never a bad thing to be precautious. It's just infuriating when you really need to get to work and you can't. There is no way to get around her. I suppose my line of thinking if you're driving and you look back and realize you are leading a parade of cars that snakes up the hills behind you, you might do the right thing and pull over to let them pass. Farm equipment drivers will always do this. I suppose if you're already a nervous driver, you probably wouldn't know that it's ok to do that. Let me tell you...it is!

Again, I know I'm being unfairly impatient. Maybe she was a driver who hates driving and it was her first trip away from her local neighbourhood in months. Maybe she had a job interview and she was practicing. Maybe her little Kia Rio was unable to go above 35 mph. Who knows why she was driving so...cautiously? All I know is that she thwarted my intentions of a nice early arrival in the office and that does not make me happy. Now I shall have to skip lunch instead of going to the post office. I love going to the post office. I know I've mentioned that. I was going to mail some letters and buy stamps. Now i shall have to wait until tomorrow. That makes me sad.

It's ok though. The post office will be there tomorrow. I shall try again.

I did manage to get by the Ms. Slow right as I got into the town where I work. I saw her intention of going straight and so I turned, gaining an extra five minutes back by cutting through town the way only a 'local' knows how. That's the advantage to having lived here for a while; I know the short cuts.

Ironically, as I went to make my final left turn that took me to work, I glanced down the road. In the distance, a pair of headlights was bobbing moving slowly down the road. It was leading a parade of cars.

Happy Tuesday.

Monday Musings

Weekends go by way too quickly. Somehow, I left my office on Friday and passed through a time warp because here I am again on Monday morning, feeling as though I didn't have a weekend even though I did and it was good.

Still, I shouldn't complain too much. This morning, on the way out of my neighbourhood, I saw a line of sleepy, grumpy looking kids waiting for the school bus. I might not be happy about coming to work after a nice weekend but at least I'm not coming back after three months away like those kids. I always hated the first weeks back. For some reason, I thought that because we were back in school, summer was over. However, the nasty, sticky, humidity of August/September betrayed my beliefs. School, to me, was supposed to be beginning of Autumn and I'd wait for the leaves to start changing, a crispness to slowly emerge in the night air. It never happened that way and at the end of the school day, we'd emerge from the chilly over-airconditioned building and be hit with that wall of stickiness that told me that it really was still summer.

I don't know how those kids that I saw this morning feeling but I can tell you that I didn't see any of them doing a dance of joy or for that matter, even looking slightly happy. They looked weary, tired, apprehensive and just plain annoyed.

Me, I was just sleepy this morning as I left for work. My weekend was great but it was tiring. I went to a Herb Festival in Wabash, Indiana this weekend. I love things like that. When I moved back to the Midwest, I promised myself that I'd try to do more things like that, local activities that salute the charm of the area.

The Herb Festival was a lot of fun. Having just planted my herb garden and being a big fan of herbs in general, it seemed like a perfect time to go. I went with my mother and we had a lovely time walking around, exploring all the booths, talking each other into making purchases and just enjoying the fact that it was a beautiful, not too hot day. I left with a new pot of sage, a little 'pesto garden' and some assorted spices for cooking.

After that, I got to do a more nervewracking thing...show my mother my house for the first time since I moved in. She came to stay with me on Saturday and I was a little nervous. I'm a firm believer that no matter how old we get, we're still going to feel like we need our parent's approval in everything we do, even subconsciously. So, I was a little nervous to show her my furnished and decorated abode.

Fortunately, she seemed to like it. I like it too. Those frustrating cranberry walls actually look pretty good with my furniture and the paintings I've hung. My grass was fairly recently mowed so the back yard looked pretty decent. Of course, my mother being an avid and talented gardener, zeroed in on my lovely weed collection but she did grant me forbearance because I have, after all, just moved in and do have other things to do.

My sister, niece and brother-in-law came down on Sunday to see my new house and visit Jungle Jim's. My niece is three. She is just the greatest little kid and I enjoy getting to spend time with her. She has a lot of energy though and by the time she left, I had to admire my sister and brother-in-law for being able to deal with her every day. She has a very good imagination and at the moment, she's carrying an imaginary...creature...in the palm of her hand called "Baby Wendy." Unfortunately, as she's the only one who can see Baby Wendy, it leads to all sorts of problems. Her mother apparently isn't very nice to Baby Wendy because she accidentally shut her in the pantry the other night. I believe she's also stepped on Baby Wendy a few times.

Baby Wendy aside, it's fun to spend time with my family like that. It was so nice to be able to show them my new house and go to Jungle Jim's with them. When they left, my house was quiet and slightly lonely.

Now the weekend is over, it's time to look ahead to the week. It's actually a short week for me; my plans to go to Las Vegas finally came together and I'll be flying out Thursday night. It should be a fun trip, if a little brief. Then again, while I enjoy the glitz and tackiness of Vegas, two days is probably enough. I haven't checked the weather yet but given that Vegas is in the middle of the desert, this time of year, it's pretty much an inferno of heat only differentiated by the reading on the thermometer. Once it gets that hot, the thermometer reading doesn't really matter- it's more a question of whether it's tolerable to be outside or if you should plan your down the strip by winding your way through the casinos, venturing outside only to cross to the next casino.

Thus, it's going to be a busy week. It seems to be that life is busier lately for me than it's been for a while. When I get back from this trip, I'm putting a moratorium on traveling for a while. I need to get more settled in my house, I need to take charge of being a homeowner instead of coasting off the novelty of being able to dabble around with a little of this and a little of that. I need to figure out what I want to do to the house, to the garden. I need to finish unpacking.

However, for now, the week lies ahead, the berth between now and the next weekend the widest it will be all week. On the plus side, at least I'm not going back to school like those kids I passed this morning. It might be a Monday but for us non-school goers, it's just another Monday. For those kids, it's as though the reins of freedom have been taken away and a clamp of obligation clamped on their leg instead. They're probably already counting down to Labour Day, their first long weekend.

Then again, I'm also counting down to Labour Day. So maybe there's not quite so much difference after all.

Happy Monday.

Back to School is More Fun When You Don't Actually Have to Go to School....

This week seems to have gone quite fast- at least for me. I have a feeling it probably it went fast for a lot of people, especially the generations younger than me.

It's that time of year again: Back to School time. I remember the days well, a heavy weight in my stomach as I realized that not only was the blissful freedom of long, lazy summer days over but it also meant starting over. It got a little easier towards the end of high school but before that, it would always be a stressful time. I was a nerdy student, one who actually cared about school so I would worry about what classes I'd have to take and who my teachers were. I'd worry about who was going to be in my classes. It would inevitably result in a phone call or two to my friends and we'd pore over our schedules, checking to see which classes we shared.

The one thing I did enjoy was the back-to-school shopping. The clothes part was ok though I never strived to be very trendy- it was pointless. Even to this day, I consider myself to avoid fashion. I like to think of myself as a timeless dresser, wearing the basics that never go out of style but making sure the height of my waistband and the heels of my shoes are not out-of-date. That's as far as I go to make sure I'm fashionable and that's only because I don't want to be the woman 'stuck in the '80's'. I find that to be a rather shocking time, especially as the fashions are making a comeback. Compared to the low waistband of jeans today, the fashions in my youth made us look like ninety year-old grandmothers with our trousers up to the middle of the chests. I did used to wear trends when I was much younger: Yes, I owned legwarmers, stirrup pants and long blouses with a belt around the middle. I've seen those fashions in the pages of Glamour and Entertainment Weekly again recently and I'm a little scared. Didn't we warn the youth of today how NOT to dress? I mean, just look back at the feathered hair, stiff with hairspray, baggy tops with skinny leggings and ankle boots with our leggings. Wasn't that enough to STOP the trends from coming back?

I don't mind being a child of the 1980's, actually. I think "Fame" was probably better the first time than it's going to be in remake and the same with "Footloose" and "Nightmare on Elm Street". I mean, there's just something delightful in watching Kevin Bacon dance his little heart out in an abandoned warehouse and say things like "Jump Back" that's just not going to be captured in the remake. We were a lot more innocent back then, I think.

I digress. I was talking about back-to-school shopping so I probably should get back to that.

The part I did like was when we moved to the U.S. and we had to get 'school supplies.' In the UK, we had most of our stuff given to us; as children it was a special day when we were allowed to write in ink rather than with our pencils. When our pen died, we'd have to go to our teacher and ask for a new one. We'd try all manner of things to get a new pen, chewing off the caps, making the tips wet so they didn't work and losing them. Most of the time we got a new one. We had glue and coloured pencils provided to the class so we shared them as a community. If we needed paint, it was there. When we got older and went to 'senior school', we had to bring our own pens and pencils but we were still given notebooks to write in and textbooks from the storage closet. We didn't use much glue then though in art class, we still had our paint provided to us.

So, when we moved here and my younger siblings had 'school supply lists', we were mystified. What was this "Trapper Keeper" thing? Why did they need two-pocket folders? Why were spiral notebooks not allowed? What, exactly, was a spiral notebook? Our notebooks in England had been paperback journals with floppy covers and a place to print our names, class number and year. Why did they have to buy two kinds of glue?

After a couple of years, it became entirely natural for us to go to K-Mart and buy the stuff we needed. The older we were, the less complicated the supplies that were necessary. In high school, we just had to have notebooks for each class and writing implements. Anything else was our choice.

I admit, I liked buying school supplies. I love the feel of a new pencil, a pen that has not yet written anything. I loved to buy my two-pocket folders for each class with a matching notebook, colour-coordinated so I could pair them together easily as I grabbed them from my locker between classes. I would love the feel of that new bag or backpack, crisp and unfamiliar with its pockets and hiding places.

To this day, I feel a rush of happiness when I go to Office Depot or Staples. I love that 'new pencil' smell. Ironically, even though as a child I was very excited when I got to write in pen, I prefer pencils. I love to sharpen them and I love their flexibility. Pencils allow you to be indecisive, they allow you to change your mind with a simple sweep of the eraser. Erasable pens are just not the same.

Nowadays, the "Back to School" period in shops is fun, I don't have the gloom that I see in the kids who know that they're having to go back to structure, to getting up early to get on the bus. I get the low prices without the inconvenience of having to go to school.

Of course, most of the time, I do only visit the 'back to school' sections at strange hours. Late at night or early morning is best. Otherwise, the once-peaceful aisles become zoos with irate parent's snapping at their kids for wanting the folders with the Twilight actors on them that cost $1.49 each instead of the plain folders that are currently six for a dollar. The back-to-schoolers turn nice orderly stores into chaos, leaving nothing but a trail of rubble in their wake. These are the times when you find the strangest things in the strangest places when people change their minds and refuse to reshelve. I accidentally went to Walmart a couple of years back during the prime 'back to school' time. To this day, I have never done it again. It was terrifying; almost worse than the day after Thanksgiving. There was no quiet place in the store and I got hit and cajoled by more shopping carts than I can even count. As a non-parent with no kids in tow, I felt as though I was commiting a crime by trying to reach for the 10 cent spiral notebooks.

I do like those bargains though which is why I still visit Walmart and Target during this time of year. Mostly I do it on Sunday mornings when they first open or late in the evenings when the tired parents have trundled home after a hard day of back-to-school shopping. One of my favourite television commercials is the one for, I think, Staples where the Christmas Song, "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year" plays and the father dances with glee down the aisles, his children watching with misery and gloom. Now I have friends who are parents, I get the other side of back-to-school. While the kids are losing their freedom, the parents are gaining a little of theirs back. It's a different perspective nowadays for me.

But it's a fun one.

Happy Friday and have a good weekend.

Bunnies Make Everything Better, Even Mowing the Lawn

Let me start by saying that I feel like my post yesterday came across as a little too harsh, almost as though were judging my Midwestern peers and coming out sounding mean. When I wrote the blog, I tried hard to present it strictly from my point of view, rather than a factual analysis of the way people really are. Also, perhaps some of it is my fault, perhaps I should attempt to make friends in other ways than work. It's something I'll give some thought to once I feel like I've settled in from moving to a new house. It's a hard thing though to balance a full time job and trying to be a writer. Sometimes I feel hypocritical saying I'm lonely when, truly, my passion in life, writing, means loneliness might be inevitable.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that if I've offended people with my slightly skewered viewpoint, I apologize.

Moving on, it's Thursday. I'm glad for that. The week itself has flown by in some ways; work has kept me busy and life at home has also been busy.

Last night, I had to mow the lawn. I seriously am rather amazed at how quickly that grass grows. While I mowed, I was watched for some time by a bunny who was sitting a safe distance away in the yard behind mine. He was lying down, resting on his front paws, just watching. I wondered if he was just amused at us humans for our seemingly futile attempts to keep the grass at bay when Mr. Bunny knows full well, it'll just grow again. I also wondered if he was a little irritated that I was diminishing his grazing-source. He may very well be the bunny who sits on my lawn and has a snack every evening.

I'm a little suspicious of the bunnies now. I just planted a herb garden with nothing but culinary herbs: oregano, sage, thyme, tarragon, chives, parsley and mint. It was looking noticeably flatter last night when I mowed, almost as though it had been sat on. Since there were no bunny-sized bites out of the plants, I can't accuse them of making a snack out of my herbs but I'm definitely going to keep an eye on that. I did throw out some baby carrots a few times last week, thinking it might be nice for the bunnies to have a non-grass food source. The carrots vanished so I hope that means the rabbits ate them.

Still, I'm feeling slightly more domesticated these days. I'm getting into the habits that are normal to a homeowner. Wednesday nights are the night that the rubbish needs to go out to be picked up by the dustman in the mornings. So, now, Wednesday nights, I drag out my dustbin to the curb along with the rest of my neighbours. It's actually strangely satisfying. When I lived in the apartment, it was more a question of having to take the rubbish out and throw it in the dumpster whenever I was motivated. Now, I can just put it all outside and just put it on the curb once a week. It's quite fun; it's a little like the tooth fairy when you're a kid. You put that rubbish out and in the mornings it's vanished. I've yet to hear the sound of the the Rumpke Rubbish Trucks in the morning either. I've decided that for now, it's one of those mystical happenings. I don't want to see it being picked up. The mysterious disappearance of my garbage is rather a fun thing to behold, especially when I've put grass clippings in there. It's as close to Harry Potter magic as I'm likely to get.

I've also been continuing my cooking trend. I got some tomatillos and jalapenos at the farmer's market on Saturday so I made roasted tomatillo salsa verde the other night. I have to say, it was pretty delicious. I like it a little spicy so the jalapenos added the right amount of kick. I've also learned from prior experience that if you chop jalapenos with exposed hands, no matter how many times you wash them, you'll still feel a burn from the peppers if you accidentally touch or lips or, worse, rub your eyes. Thus I used gloves which proved to be a wise choice. I just have to remember not to use the gloves for anything else.

I'm blaming the Food Network for my cooking again. Now I have Direct TV, it's easy to watch the Food Network and I find too many of the shows to be highly watchable. They make me hungry and they make cooking look easy. It's fun but sometimes a little time-consuming. I find myself deciding to cook and it's after 8 p.m. before it's time to eat. Still, it is nice to resist the urge to order a pizza and use my fresh vegetables instead. Summer is great for fresh produce and I'm definitely making the most of it.

So, Captain Monkeypants is settling down into her new house. It's feeling more like home every day and I love the freedom I have in being a homeowner. I still can't lie and say I've decided that mowing the lawn is fun but it's becoming part of my weekly routine and that is definitely an improvement. It's also more fun if you have a bunny for company. Just as long as he stays out of my garden.

Happy Thursday.

Anthropology of the Midwest: Different Strokes for Different Folks

I'm ready for the weekend and it's only Wednesday. This does not bode well. It's turning out to be one of those weeks at work.

Ironically, work itself is going well. I'm learning to accept the fact that my idea of being busy and my company's idea of being busy are not quite the same. It's not a bad thing but life in the Midwest is a little slower than that of L.A. and it's something I'm adjusting to, slowly.

One thing I am also adjusting to is the difference in personalities and people in the Midwest to that of California. The stereotype of Californians is that they're tree hugger hippies even though if you live there, you realize that's actually the stereotype of Northern Californians. Southern Californians have the stereotype of more laid back and 'with it.'

I'm not sure about stereotypes but one thing I've noticed is that there is a different attitude to Californians. They're more open and friendly, willing to accept strangers. Having spent my teenage years in the Midwest and then moving back, I've noticed that the attitude here is different.

When I first moved to the U.S. from the UK, I had to go to school. For a while, I was a novelty: "The English Girl." After a while, people realized it wasn't that exciting and slowly moved away. I was left standing, not sure what I'd done wrong and had to start again from scratch to make friends when, in the beginning, I'd felt like things weren't so bad because people had been nice to me. When they stopped being nice and carried on with their lives, I wasn't prepared for it. It wasn't that they weren't still nice but they had better things to do than hang out with me.

Slowly, I found friends who were real friends who found my accent fun but weren't friends with me because I was British. As I graduated from high school, I'd found a couple of great friends, people who liked me for who I was and on who I could rely. I'm still friends with them today.

When I went to college, I found it surprisingly easy to make friends. Ironically, when I look back on it, most of my friends weren't really from the Midwest. They were from Texas, Alabama, California, New Jersey...all over the place. When I moved to California, I made friends much more easily. People seemed more open; while they might have a seperate life, they were willing to share it.

Now I'm back in the Midwest, I'm truly seeing the difference in personalities. It's hard to make friends here, real friends, I mean. It's not hard to find people to go to dinner with or go for drinks with that's just superficial stuff. I'm trying not to stereotype but Midwesterners are different; they're not so open. They're not rude, don't get me wrong. They're friendly. Yet they don't let you in to their lives easily. Rather than the casual, "hey, come on over" invitations that I got used to in L.A., here it is all about 'events.' You get to go to someone's house for an occasion, for a gathering but not just to 'hang out'. If they haven't known you for at least a couple of years, you're still an outsider.

I'm not saying everyone's like that but it's definetely a difference I'm noticing in attitudes. I have met a couple of people who are the exception, people who don't mind that they haven't known me a while and seem to really want to be friends.

And I'm not saying it's a bad thing; it's an attitude, a way of life. In the UK, we're overly polite about things. We apologize a lot, even for things that are not our fault. It's our way, it's what we do. I know that drives people nuts who aren't used to my way of life so I cannot be a hypocrite and say my way of life suits everyone. Yet, it's the way we are.

More than anything, it's an anthropological study in people. The Midwest is full of small towns and while they've got a lot of merits, they're not the most...open places. Unless you're from a family with a recognizable name, people tend to treat you like a stranger, even if you've been living there for a while. After quite a few years, going on twenty, in town where my parent's live, we're still 'the English family.'

For me, more than anything, I need to remember that people are different wherever you go. I moved to the Midwest expecting life to be perfect and I'm finding it a lonelier place than I'm used to. I'm thankful my family is close enough that I can spend time with them and feel loved and accepted. I have some casual friends at work but most of them are that, casual, people who are friendly but have their ways and habits and don't like to change them.

I suppose I'm like that too; I have my ways and my habits. I won't say everyone here is like that because they're not. Yet lately, I'm realizing that I left behind more than a place in California; I left behind a whole life and while it's fun to start a new one, it's also a little hard. I love my house, I love my family but I also miss the life I got used to. I've been here a while now and the novelty of the snow, the greenness of the country, the laid-back pace of life is still there but the reality that this is my home, this is my world now is setting in and thus the shadows are becoming as visible as the beauty. I suppose this it the time when people say "the honeymoon is over" and I suppose that wouldn't be too far off.

And, again, I'm not saying any of this is a bad thing. I think it depends on what you're used to; People are different wherever you go and once you get used to that it's easier. My problem is that I got un-used to it and it's time to readjust my thinking. I just have to accept the fact that as with most things, finding a comfortable niche takes time. In the meantime, I must remember that just because my good friends aren't physically nearby doesn't mean I can't rely on them because I can. I will make friends here but it might take a little longer than I thought. As with everything else, things are slower here and that's not such a bad thing. Yet, when you've lived in a place where everything moves quickly, slowing down is not always easy. I'm trying though and I'll keep trying until I feel like I belong here.

And, if not, I'll just look out my window and see my lawn growing as a constant reminder than I'm home now, for better or for worse and while it's a wonderful thing, it's not always perfect. Nothing ever is. That's what makes life interesting.

Thanks, as always, for reading.

Happy Wednesday.