is it my "overactive imagination" or did this book just suck???

As an unabashed bookworm I am inevitably prone to hold different standards as far as the kind of books I read. Although I embrace recommendations (sometimes it's just hard to keep an open mind while browsing aisles and aisles of the literary universe. As inane as it may sound to warn against judging a book by it's cover, that is exactly what happens.) I always evaluate where that recommendation came from. If you're telling me that The Notebook is your favorite book I'm clearly not going to take anything else you say seriously. However, I have a love/hate kinda thing for chick lit. I guess you could consider it one of my guilty pleasures. I'm not talking Harlequin romances or that torturous drivel from Mr. Sparks, but somewhat decently well-written, clever but not too clever, predictable in it's seeming unpredictability chick lit. Not a romance novel, but a novel in which a strong modern woman overcomes outstanding obstacles and manages to find love while still maintaining her independence. Obviously I recognize the lack of certain redeeming qualities. And it never fulfills my ambitions in an intellectual sense, but sometimes you're looking for something that reads a little easier than Tess D'Ubervilles.

I've learned to curb my love affair with buying books as I get older, so I got a library card. And I only allow myself to go into bookstores when I'm absolutely poor. As snobby as I get about library books, I still force myself to do the sensible thing. I try not to think about the lack of that fresh paper smell or the thought of how many unknown individuals have molested those public pages. I pretend not to hear the crinkle of the cellophane-like protective covering or see the mysterious brown splotch on page 173 (is it blood? A-1? chocolate?). Instead I focus on the reading. I focus on the words.

Recently I stopped by the library here in Kailua in the later afternoon after some chores in town. After a few brief minutes of browsing I heard them announce they'd be closing in 10 minutes. WTF? The library closes at 5? What's that about? My library back in MI (forever known as the greatest library in the world) closed at 8 or 9. I know banks that stay open later than 5. Also, why hadn't I been informed upon entering? I frantically started perusing the spines of the books. (I'd say I was perusing the titles, but that's not all I take in. The script used and the integrity of the spine also factor in to the book selection. They'll tell you a lot about the book before even picking it up. Now, this is not intentionally done. It's more a subconscious judgment.) I managed to pick two books out, the last one quite spontaneously, just as I heard that the circulation desk was now closed. Closed? I still had 5 minutes and now they claim it's closed without warning? I spotted a lady still left in line so I snuck in hoping they'd accept me as well. And they did.

Unfortunately I could have used a few more minutes for my book selection. The last book I had chosen was not even readable. I tried, I swear, but I couldn't. And then there was the chick lit. It was by the same author as Bridget Jones' Diary (Helen Fielding), so I figured it was a safe bet. Not that BJD is Pulitzer worthy, but at least you know what you're working with. While it fell under the readable category, it was painful. Word of wise to aspiring novelists out there, try not to make your antagonist irritating as shit. Also, while character development flaws may occur, try not to have them conflict with major themes of the book. For instance, the heroine was known as being paranoid to the nth degree, like carrying a hatpin on her at all times to defend against assailants, yet despite her "overactive imagination" she didn't hesitate one second before taking a swig from a bottle of tequila given to her by recent acquaintances on a remote island in the middle of the Pacific. Really? I'm not the most paranoid individual and I wouldn't dare. Just dumb. I'm not going to say Fielding is riding on her BJD success. Actually, I'm not even sure of the chronological order of her books, but I expected more. While there is little argument that Bridget wasn't aggravating in her own way, she still maintained a level of lovableness. While I wanted to strangle her, it was merely to awaken herself to her own idiocy, not to cause death. Oh well, perhaps I should embark on an actual piece of literature next time. It will be a welcome change.

a letter: dear flat-iron kiosk lady at ala moana

Let's, for one moment, ignore the fact that this is certainly not the first time you've accosted me while I shop. Let's instead pretend that I've never tried to avoid eye contact with you as I hurriedly rush by, trying to feign interest in whatever items are available in the nearest store window.

Why are you asking me if I want to try your product? Now, I know it is not YOUR product. I know you are simply trying to pay the bills. Chances are you did not invent that miraculous flat-iron you have there. Nor did you manufacture it. Times are rough and I am sympathetic to your plight. You took an unsatisfactory job because it was a job. But look at my hair. Pray tell, what are you going to show me? My hair is stick straight. Why? Because I straightened it earlier today with my own flat-iron. If your job is to sell me on that flat-iron, what incredulous and persuasive results do you expect to get from the experience? Do you expect me to go for it? I don't understand. Are you even trying at your job anymore?

I don't blame you if you aren't.

Perhaps sales isn't your future.

Sincerely,
Concerned Patron

what's the opposite of energy efficient?

Why are my roommates incapable of turning the lights off when leaving a room??? Now I understand what my parents were bitching about for years. When you leave a room, turn off the damn light!

Thank God we don't have a thermostat to deal with.

no beach for me

I swear, every day I have off the weather is total crap. And I'm really not exaggerating. Each week there's a handful of perfect beach days. Then Monday rolls around and, lo and behold, it's completely overcast. I would rather it pour rain if it's going to be this dreary. At least then I could get a chilly, curl up and watch movies sort of day. This is just dull and pointless, as is seen in the pic of my front yard below.



Gross.

Normally I aspire to hit the beach on days off, especially since the boyfriend and I acquired some moderately priced snorkel equipment last month. It may be near impossible to get him out of bed in time to enjoy the beaches of Lanikai, but I sure as hell am not going to let $50 of aquatic sporting gear go to waste! But alas, the sun does not want to cooperate.

Today I planned a biking excursion. I started the South Beach Diet once again on Friday and, in an effort to encourage my formerly somewhat svelte self to return, I decided some exercise was necessary. The beach was out already and I have a strong aversion to gyms, so the logical choice was an intense bike ride around the area. And then I rescued my bike from the garage. Apparently the garage was not sheltered enough for the bicicleta. The rust and creakiness factors were enough for me to call it quits. While I would have trusted it enough to get me to Blockbuster in town, I was not about to drive into the unknown only to have to drag the thing back had the chain snapped.

So my day remained relatively exercise-free. I did, however, make myself a fantastic SB friendly Indian inspired meal.



Mmm tomato beef curry with mushrooms and zucchini.

recipe for disaster, of the delicious variety

Times are rough. Sometimes you're forced to do something with whatever random items left in your fridge. This week I made the world's tastiest sandwich.

Ingredients: (measurements are approximate, adjust to taste)
2 slices of bread (personally, I used generic wheat because that's what I had on hand)
2/3 cup diced steak bits (I happened to have leftover medium rare ribeye, but I suppose improvisation would do)
1/2 cup each sauteed onions and mushrooms, seasoned with salt and pepper
1/2 cup grated cheddar cheese
2 tbs. softened butter
2 tbs. sweet onion mustard (I used a version from up country Maui, but Vidalia would do nicely too)

Now the key ingredient here is really the cheese. I used an Irish sharp cheddar made with Porter that I found at Costco.



Funky looking, yes. But delicious and not in the least bit scary. If forced to choose a substitute I would go with a Tillamook sharp white cheddar.

So to start, slather one side each of both pieces of bread. Place the first slice, butter side down in a small frying pan. Arrange your beef on the bread, then arrange your sauteed onions and mushrooms on top of that. If either the beef or the vegetables aren't seasoned properly (salt, pepper, maybe a little garlic powder), now is the time to make up for it. Then arrange your cheese on top. If you prefer you can thinly slice the cheese instead of grating. Now place the remaining slice of bread on top with the butter facing up.

Cook on medium until the bottom slice is toasted and firm enough to get a generous sized spatula under. Flip the sandwich over.

Now, this is where it gets difficult. No matter what, you're going to have pieces of steak, onion, and mushroom escape. No worries, just try to keep it to a minimum. The larger the spatula, the more successful you'll be. The important part is to keep the sandwich's form. You can always stuff everything back in after cooking.

Once both sides are golden brown, peel away the top layer of bread and spread on the mustard. Replace the bread and dig in.