My boyfriend went on a business trip the other day, and today my computer died. So I hopped on his computer, did my work, checked my email, etc. But then I accidentally clicked on his bookmarks, he had some interesting sites in there. Some links to some joke/movie sites, some sports, some tech sites, etc. But one link I found particularly interesting, it was a link to a porn reviews site, called rabbits review. I didn't even know something like that exists, but it's a site that reviews 1000 of different porn membership sites. Damn perverts! lol Anyway, enough of my ramblings, when he gets back I'll have to grill him about it. heh :)

I Don't Want to Go

Moving to LA is looking like a bad idea. I don't think I'm going to do it.

The move is risky under the best conditions. If I were sure my wife was going to stay put; if she had a stable job and stable place to live; if she were supportive of my recovery; if she were trying to encourage and facilitate a regular and predictable relationship between me and my son -- then I would only be dealing with the stress of moving to a new city that I don't want to live in and where I don't know anyone.

This past weekend emphasized to me that I cannot count on a single one of the "ifs." (Have I ever mentioned that my wife is bipolar and takes a lot of lithium?) It also reinforced just how much I don't want to be in LA.

One thing that seems to have sunk in from AA: I make lousy decisions, and I'm better off following advice. I've discussed my planned move with my family, my sponsor, quite a few AA friends, I'll discuss it tonight with my church group, and I'm scheduling appointments with my pastor and my shrink. So far, the advice I'm getting, given the whole situation, is to stay put in the town I'm in, which is my home and where I have a lot of people who know me and care about me. My best chance of staying sober is here. In LA, I'm hoping for the best, taking a chance with odds that aren't great, and rolling the dice.

By moving to LA, I'm leaving my life in my wife's control, still trying to react to her next move. I've always operated with this crazy assumption that, once she does this and finishes that, then she'll be stable and predictable, suddenly she will meet me halfway, and everything will be fine. But it never has been stable -- it has always been chaos. Why should I believe that simply by moving to LA, I will see different behavior from her? I'll still be accomodating her, and she will have no reason or inclination not to keep taking advantage of it.

I need to stop accomodating and stop trying to appease my wife.

There is no reason for me to assume I will see my son any more frequently, or have a more predictable and stable life with him, by living in LA than by staying here. It could even be worse in LA -- proximity would give my wife more opportunity to manipulate the situation (and me) to her convenience.

MAYBE WE'LL GET MATCHING STRAIGHT JACKETS!

Very few people inspire. The few that do are charished. Thank you for being my friend.

To add the meat Mariner. To salt, pepper and make jump. To cook 5 minutes not more.


Receipt of noodles jumped to vegetables:
- 100 G Asian noodles
- 1 vegetable or ox bubble
- 1 carrot
- 1/2 zucchini
- other vegetables with the choice
- gimgembre
- 5 spices
- oil



To make cook noodles in the bubble. To drain and reserve.

To cut vegetables in all small cubes. I have to preserve the skin of zucchini but one can peel it if one wants. Then to make jump vegetables in a spoon to oil soup a few minutes: to start with "hard" vegetables more (here the carrot) during 3 minutes, then zucchini during 1 minute, then noodles 1 to 2 minutes. To add a little sauce soya, gimgembre and 5 spices.

To be used as continuation.

The Asian kitchen is a vétitable enchantment for the papillae when it is well ridge: it is charged with spices and perfumes, melting and crusty textures... and the colors!

And yet, there is nothing worse (finally if, but one does not speak about it now) that a bad restau Asian (and as for the other kitchens, they are legions). Then one is tempted to make "like if" at the house. I had already tried almost Chinese noodles, even as they were not dégueu whole. And there, I launch out in ox to onions, accompanied by noodles to vegetables. To however say this receipt which it is Asian would be a quite great word, say that I took as a starting point his savours and that I accomodé myself some. Receipt, like hab', ultra simple but delicious, where the taste of ox is simply associated with that with onions.

* For the amateurs inhabitant of Lille, I advise you restore it Long Chti, street Jeanne Maillotte *

Receipt of ox to onions:
- 1 beautiful very tender ox steack (approximately 200 G)
- 2 or 3 spoons with sauce soya soup
- 3 onions
- oil (of sesame, groundnut, sunflower, olive... as you want!)
- salt and pepper



To cut the meat in cubes or plates and to put it in a bowl with the sauce soya. To let marinate 30 minutes with the refrigerator.

To cut onions in plates and to make them caramelize in a little oil. The choice of oil depends on the tastes: the purists will choose a groundnut oil, possibly mixed with a little sesame oil, the others will make as they feel it...

It left then returned 3 times on the request crowd. It finished by us singing " She said ", song claimed since the beginning and qu’it took pleasure to be unaware of by balancing us with the smile " Not, is my concert, I sing what I want !! ". While the public took again the refrain it buckles is thrown in the pit. It slamé since the bottom of the zenith jusqu’in top and took the same way to join the scene, passing from arm in arm like a headstock of rag. was funny and I think that safety had to corrode bloods in front of this great unconcern…




It was a good concert, all of course was chorégraphié or at least not large thing was left with the Célinou… spontaneousness which had seen the concert the day before m’told with few things close this had seen here, but so much worse. As opposed to what I thought I did not leave sad from there, appreciated, I returned tired but the smile to the lips.




I do not know if would re-examine it on scene but I will buy its second album, word of Lili.:)




Large kisses

- the first thing, it is that it is very lighting on the reports/ratios which maintain the press barons with the politicians, and this all the more when it acts of a future candidate to presidential, and more generally somebody who exerts a considerable influence. It prevented the exit of a book, it carried felt sorry for against journalists... It obviously has a particular vision of the press. For the anecdote, it is the only person in charge for political party which did not condescend to receive us (the permanent Forum of the companies of journalists, note). What I find well, it is that the journalists of Europe 1 reacted. A few years ago, and I do not speak only there about Europe 1, the things would have been quite different. That proves that the draftings move and that they do not let make condemnable practices. It is fundamental that the journalists federate, because it is necessary to denounce this kind of collusion between directors of drafting and policies.

Ca is only as that which one can make them against-productive, because that will be known and the directors will be able less to allow it.

To justify itself, Jean-Pierre Elkabbach affirms that it is a normal process of selection of the journalists. Are these practices really current and they do not contribute to décrédibiliser a profession already largely criticized?

- Yes, but one should not add some. It is true that this kind of maintenance takes place. On a side, the policies do not may find it beneficial to be confronted with a too corrosive journalist and other, the directors of drafting may find it beneficial to have a journalist accredited to obtain information. It human east. Then certainly, this kind of practice décrédibilise, in a sense, the profession, but the fact that that is known is all with the honor of the journalists of Europe 1. If it is not revealed, that will be worse. But I do not enter this debate of "all rotted". One cannot draw a ball in the foot permanently. One should not be whipped. I know that we are in one time of declinology, but all the same... They are mœurs, and practices which should be fought.
It is necessary to put order and the journalists did their work. It is necessary to support this taking risk, because it is considerable.

Nicolas Sarkozy confirms that Jean-Pierre Elkabbach "is not the only one to do that". What concretely proposes the Forum of the companies of journalists to fight against these practices?

- It is simple, we wish that the Companies of writers be obligatory within the draftings, that the journalists have a right of veto on the appointment of the director of the drafting. Is needed that the journalists has to be able more and are organized within associations. It is necessary that the press ceases functioning as it always did, i.e. it ceases being a business between directors of drafting, businessmen and policies. It is necessary that it is heard, that one exists. It is incredible which one if little is consulted. It is necessary to set up a countervailing power which can be exerted only in the draftings. It is we who make the newspapers, he would not have to be forgotten.

Drop Dead Fred

I don't think I have ever mentioned our Betta fish, Fred. It's pretty likely that I haven't mentioned him before, because Fred just doesn't lead a very exciting life. He pretty much does the same thing everyday. He eats, he swims, he poops...You know, the usual fish type activities...Well at least up until yesterday morning he did.

It started out like any other morning. I woke up, brushed my teeth, grabbed something to drink, posted my blog entry and did some blog surfing...Which, by the way, was interrupted by a commotion in the kitchen. I went to see what the ruckus was all about. Turned out that Hunk Daddy produced a bit of a flame on the stove and the kids flipped out, like our kids tend to do! For it to be so early, our house was entirely too noisy, so I went to turn the TV off for starters and that's when I saw it. Fred was taking the dirt nap...or maybe I should call it the old water nap. In any event, Fred was dead and Fred was afloat. I started to panic almost instantly! I knew Karsen would freak out if she saw him, because Fred is hers and she doesn't deal well when pets bite the dust and to make matters worse, this fish was given to her by her friend Christy, who recently moved away. Little Fred just couldn't make the trip. So after the panic state set in, I managed a little quick thinking. I turned off the light in the aquarium and she never noticed it. Brilliant!

After Karsen left for school, I informed Hunk Daddy of Freds demise. The three of us, Hunkdaddy, Caden and I sat there staring at poor Fred until we just couldn't look anymore, so I lovingly put a towel over the tank and we devised a plan to replace Fred with a Fred look alike! Whaaat??? It was a good plan! Right up until I fell asleep after lunch...And slept for three hours... Until Karsen got off the bus...And then it was time to panic again!

Karsen walks in and the first thing out of Cadens mouth is "Kawsen, Feds dead". Thankfully, she ignored him [mostly because she couldn't understand him I think] and I wanted to strangle that child. Who's bright idea was it to teach that kid to talk anyway?!? Luckily my quick thinking kicked in and I remembered that we have popsicles! Yessss! A popsicle can keep a yappy little mouth busy for at least a few minutes! I quickly ran to the kitchen, grabbed one, shoved it into his mouth and tried to think of something to distract them both until it was time for Karsen to go home! I figured if I could get them into the horse trough again and let them swim, I could at least scoop Freds remains out and get the towel off the tank, which she was bound to notice if I didn't do something. Karsen and Caden both jumped at the opportunity to swim and after a few minutes, I had Karsen watch the child with the big mouth while I went inside. I grabbed the net and a ziploc bag, removed the towel and... Oh.My.God...Fred was alive and swimming!!! Our beloved little fishy had been resurrected! Well, I dunno what exactly happened. Maybe Fred just fainted or had a little fishy seizure or something, but our Fred was, and still is, a happy, swimming little fish and that's all that matters!

Hi!

My freshly created blog, please hold while I figure out how all this blogginh stuff works.