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2014 Wrap Up

As we near the end of another trek around the sun, I always feel the need to make a post of highlights (or lowlights) of the year. A semi-list in no particular order:

– We started 2014 at a party at someone’s house in Dacula. It became a Hillbilly Hoedown, complete with screaming, fist fights and drunk driving. NOT an auspicious beginning for sure. Out of that came our current rule of NEVER staying at anyone’s house overnight unless absolutely necessary. Why risk it?

– We lost DJ in April. He was old and sickly. He waited for me to get back from my trip and he died two days later. He had a seizure right in front of us on a Saturday. It sucked.

– We finally walked away from the Maplehurst house in June. It was hard to let it go, but we had to. Despite Wells Fargo’s insistence that it was not discharged three years ago in the bankruptcy, it WAS and we were NOT obligated to pay for it. It will be auctioned next month and become rental once again. Nick left notes in the closets to whomever lives in it next.

– On the heels of the move, I get the call that my brother’s best friend died suddenly. He was doing some electrical work at an office and was electrocuted. It was horrible. It rocked me to my roots, I can tell you. The thought that one day a husband says goodbye to his wife and goes to work, never to return. It could happen to ME. It was very upsetting. On top of that, now my brother has no one. He’s all alone with elderly, sick parents and a woman-child with a new baby. I feel SO BAD for him and for Aron’s widow. Ugh. I cry just thinking about it.

– The move to the ‘burbs was relatively painless thanks to a great moving company that sent us TWO crews for the price of one. (Big League Movers if you need a referral.) We are now in a lovely ranch w/ full basement that is crammed full of our stuff. We have a lot of stuff. Other people’s stuff is shit, but our shit is stuff. (George Carlin. Kids, ask your parents.) Anyhow, I’m not a fan of the ‘burbs – too many white people and nothing to do. And white people are NOISY fuckers! Every single day I hear leaf blowers/yard equipment. EVERY. DAY. One day, the asshole neighbors behind us had TWO going from 8am-noon. Continuously. WTF, white people? OTOH, no gunfire, even on holidays and Nick is 10 minutes from work. Tradeoffs.

– Although I get ridiculed by my friends, I’m sticking to my No New Pets rule. Once Missy goes, I’m not getting any more cats. I’ve got a damn good reason: if we get this pub going, I’ll never be home. Why have pets if you’re not home to enjoy them? If the pub doesn’t happen, we may move. We’ve been talking about it and we’d rather take our money and move with it than sit here and piss it away on rent. It could be a BIG move. Like to Europe big. We don’t want to be in the US when we grow old. Healthcare here sucks. We’re getting passports, but that’s as far as that plan goes right now. We are keeping our options open. When Nick’s job ends, we have to make decisions. [HA!! This didn’t work! Shasti was living in the backyard and I brought her in. Missy was not impressed. I was happy to have her after Missy died. It’s now 2022 and Shasti is a sweet, good catte! -A 1.11.22]

2014 has lived up to its 7 number. 7 is my life path number and I’ve certainly been working on THAT this year. 2015 is an 8 year. 8 is a karmic number; a bringer of change. That seems to be tracking with what we’ve got going on. I look forward to the challenges of an 8 year. I’m curious about what I’ll say on Dec 31 next year. I’ll be 50 this time next year. What a concept. Eh, I’ve always been a late bloomer. Some things never change. :)

Happy New Year, y’all.

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Moroccan Lamb and Chickpeas with Couscous

I had a pack of ground lamb in the fridge, so this is what I made. It turned out amazing! I hope my future customers will love my Middle Eastern/Italian/Asian flavours as much as I do. Enjoy!

Moroccan Lamb & Chickpeas
Moroccan Lamb & Chickpeas

Moroccan Lamb & Chickpeas with Couscous
1 pound lean ground lamb
olive oil
1 medium onion, frenched
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
3/4 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/4 teaspoon ground red pepper (I used Indian pepper, which is VERY hot. Use cayenne as a sub.)
1/4 cup golden raisins
1/4 cup dried apricots, small dice
3 tablespoons tomato paste
1 lime zest (about 2 tsp)
1 can (15 1/2-oz) chickpeas, drained
S/P to taste
couple splashes water if it gets dry
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro
juice of half lime

2 cups Israeli couscous (I like tricolour), prepared with chicken broth and juice of half a lime

Put about a tablespoon of olive oil in a skillet (with lid) on Med Hi. When hot, toss in the ground lamb to sautée. When lamb begins to brown and has released its fat, add in onion and garlic. Stir and reduce heat if the veg is starting to brown. Add in spices, raisins, apricots, tom paste and lime zest. Stir in chickpeas and turn down heat to Med Lo. Put lid on skillet and stir every now and then. Cook for about 15 minutes. Add a splash of water if it gets dry.

While that is simmering, prepare the couscous. As I mentioned, I added the other half of the lime juice and used chicken broth for mine.

Turn off heat, check S/P levels and stir in cilantro and lime juice.

Serve over couscous. Wine pairing: Gewürztraminer

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It’s that time of year…

for introspection, angst and Fear & Loathing™.

Actually it’s not bad this year, but today I’m feeling a little maudlin. I didn’t sleep well for one thing and Missy has been waking me up at 1am for some reason.

When I think about my family, there are few good memories. I’m mostly struck by the selfishness of my parents and the sad waste of my brother’s life. What triggered me today was a piece on reviving cast iron skillets. Weird, I know, but it reminded me that my mother has my Gran’s (her mother) cast iron skillet, perfectly seasoned and ready to use. I’ve asked her for it so I can learn to use it and she won’t let me have it – despite the fact that she hasn’t cooked in several years. I cook every day, but NO I can’t have it because it’s HERS. Which is typical of her. When she handed me my great grandmother’s (her grandmother) fresh water pearl necklace, I almost passed out. I think that she’s starting to realise (at the age of 72) that material things are not as important as sharing history. I had to practically rip the family photos out of her clutch to scan them a couple of years ago. She’s convinced that I sell everything on eBay. Why she thinks anyone would WANT old family pictures is beyond me. I think it’s a control thing. She’s always been very controlling towards us kids – which is the reason why she has nothing to do with me and focuses all her energy on my brother, who is compliant. I joke that I put post its on the things I want from up there when she dies, but I really do. I will have the Oriental secretary, for instance. And that goddamned skillet. The rest, I know, is going to my brother the Saint. I’ll get nothing from the estate, of that I’m certain. He’ll get all the land, the buildings, everything. I guess he needs it to raise his grandchild which I’m sure he’ll be stuck raising. Eh, whatever. I really *would* sell that shit. I don’t want to live up there. If it were up to me, I’d demo the lot of it and plow up every foot of the 17 acres. Start fresh. What really chaps my ass is that it’ll end up in the hands of my useless niece eventually.

Anyway, my family does not make me feel warm and fuzzy, they make me feel anxious and stressed out. They are energy vampires and it sucks out every bit of energy I have to go up there. But go we shall this weekend. It’s a surgical strike, in and out. I’m sorry, Nutsville friends, but my family RUINS any kind of fun I’d like to have when I’m up there. I try to make plans to see people, but when they are done with me, I don’t feel like socialising. It’s THAT BAD. So I apologize in advance for not following up with the Cantleys and the Blues. :(

And then I saw a post from this day in ’03 when I announced Missy Kat was joining us. That was ELEVEN years ago. It’s hard to believe. But it reminds me that she’s old now and I’ll be saying goodbye to her in the next few years. UGH. She’s been MY cat. She torments and soothes me. She is my shadow. I’ve never had a cat quite like Missy Kat. She’s doing fine, but when I’m maudlin, I think about death and losing the ones I love. I do the same with Nick. When my brother’s friend Aron died at work a few months ago, it shook me to my bones. One day I say goodbye to Nick as he heads to work and I never see him again? I’d probably lose my mind. I don’t know why I think these things, but I’ve always been a worst case scenario kind of girl. It’s my Scorpio nature to think about death and dying I suppose. Bleh. Bad habit.

That’s it for my rambling this morning. I’ve got numbers to crunch and money to find. BTW, if anyone wants to loan me $15k or knows a rich person who’ll loan me $15k, you know how to get ahold of me. We need just a bit more money for the pub. Actually $10k would do the trick. Anyone? Bueller? ;)

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Rage Against the Machine

I just wish every bank, mortgage company and all other money hoarding institutions were dissolved. THEY are the reason this country is fucked up. THEY are the reason the economy sucks, there are no jobs and everyone is fucking broke.

EXCEPT the money hoarders themselves, of course. He who has the gold makes the rules.

We have about $50k in assets. We have credit cards with about $8k+ available credit w/ no balances. We have no debt!! Nick makes $65k for fuck’s sake!

Yet we can’t qualify for even the most modest loan to start up our business. Nothing. Nada. We don’t “qualify” according to SBA standards. What are those standards you ask? GOOD QUESTION. I got lame ass excuses like “not a good business to go into”, “you have had a bankruptcy”, “your score is 150 and it must be over 170 by SBA standards” and the best: “your credit cards are too full”. Really? Zero balance is too full for you, huh? Credit in the 700s is too low for you, huh? You don’t like to fund restaurants, huh? Funny, that is not what I was told in the goddam class I paid $140 to attend. The SBA claims to exist to help small business, but apparently ONLY if your small business is already started up and profitable.

I am so fucking irritated with this country. The fucking money hoarders fucked everything and everybody without lube, but I am the bad guy for saving myself. We got rid of horrible debt and a house worth 30% of what we paid for it TO START OVER. And we did! We are over three years out, debt free and our credit scores are good. But does any of that matter? NOPE. Donald motherfucking Trump has bankrupted MULTIPLE times. I’ll bet HE can get a fucking loan.

The very entity that is supposed to encourage new business startups [SBA] doesn’t want to lend money to the people who are trying to START UP a business! They want you to have six months under your belt first… Um. It’s hard to have six months of business records when you can’t get the money to start the fucking business. Chicken and egg. Old white men fucking over EVERYONE.

I just hate the whole fucking racket. The American Dream is a fucking LIE. You can do everything RIGHT and still have nothing to show for it. We are pretty much fucked at this point. We have the idea and the know how to do it, but with no money, we can’t get started. It’s a bitter fucking pill.

I WILL NOT GIVE UP. There has got to be a way to make this happen. Traditional banks can eat a dick. We’ll just have to find another way. Anyone need a kidney?

Broke motherfuckers start up businesses every day. Broke motherfuckers borrow money every fucking day. It’s too bad I’m not black and I can’t prove my Native American status. Just being female is not enough to “qualify” for any help whatsoever. It’s ridiculous. THIS is why there are so few white female entrepreneurs. WE CAN’T GET ANY HELP!!

I’ve given myself a headache. A rage headache. And I still can’t make my pub happen. This sucks ass. >:(

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What it’s like to be GenXer in 2014

This post was spurred by this Salon article from 2013.

GenX article @Salon

It’s Salon, which means it’s not reliable as a news source, but this article feels pretty spot on to me:

“The Xer in midlife is facing the opposite midlife than the Silent Generation,” Howe says. “The Silent experienced claustrophobia. Xers experience agoraphobia — everything is possible.” – Neil Howe quoted in Salon article “Generation X gets really old: How do slackers have a midlife crisis?”

I do not feel like the dude in Falling Down. I do feel agoraphobic. I feel like I’ve been let down by the “American Dream” touted by my parents. They would tell me “you can do anything you want!” then ridicule my college degree and advise me to get an office job when I kept changing “careers” to try to make the best of what I had. I feel resentment at them for still spouting that bullshit at me, EVEN AS THEY GO INTO THEIR LAST YEARS BROKE AS FUCK from refusing to change. They were in the building business and they got crushed. My brother now has a shitty county job that pays less than $30k/yr and he supports ALL of them. He sat around for 4 years spending their savings before he got a clue that he might have to find a new career. My parents fought him all the way. This is my brother all right:

“Studies reveal that a disproportionate number of us are sandwiched between dependent children and aging parents – fending off economic stressers while juggling a heavy load of family responsibilities.”

My brother supports his clueless 17 year old pregnant daughter and two sickly parents. He’ll be supporting his grandkid, too. He feels trapped and he is. But it’s his own fault for allowing our overbearing mother to run his life. I really wonder what will happen when she’s not around to tell him what to do. My brother will be 47 in January and he’s never had an independent life. I couldn’t save him, though I tried very hard. They all resent me because I saw the trap and I fled. None of them were smart enough to do that, so naturally I’m the bad guy.

My parents tell me that it’s MY FAULT that my $100k home became worth $40k. THEY ARE FULL OF SHIT. And out of touch. My father actually said, “There wasn’t a housing bust! I don’t know what you’re talking about! You’re lying! Houses are selling great in Knoxville!” Uh, right Dad, I made the whole thing up and Knoxville fucking TN is immune to the ills of the WHOLE GODDAM COUNTRY and you lost all your retirement money to invisible gnomes. Right. He probably thinks this because he has lived his whole life in a 10 mile radius. They all have. Small towns, small minds. It’s amazing how real their fantasy world is to them. They must work really hard to ignore the news that is on their TVs that are on 24/7. This is why I call them militantly ignorant. It’s hard work to ignore reality like they do.

I have had to start over in my life. And over. And over. I’ve been fucked by the Boomer’s “American Dream”. I went to college. I settled down and bought a house (Nick did this, too). What did we get? BANKRUPTCY. We bankrupted and started fresh three years ago – but we paid off our fucking student loans, at least. It was the best thing we’ve ever done – despite my fucking family telling us we’re losers for not sticking with a failed investment that was killing us with stress. Despite my father (who has always been an entrepreneur) telling me I’m crazy to start up a business and I’m doomed to failure (arcade pub for those new to this blog), that is precisely what I’m going to do. I’ll succeed to spite him.  The last paragraph of the Salon article really does sum it up:

“If we’re going to make the country a better place, more suited to our values, we need to do it ourselves. Middle age is, if nothing else, time to shift out of second gear. If we can’t take a break from the urban farms, put down the knitting and home brewing equipment, and step into politics, business and other kinds of leadership, we’ll deserve our reputation as the generation that never quite showed up. Rather than the sound of silence, we should be hearing our voices – and they should be loud and angry.”

The Boomers are clueless about who we Xers are and the constant stream of CRAP that we’ve dealt with. But I think we can become the leaders we need to be on our own terms. I think if more of us would take chances, we could get something done. There’s no one left to take chances but US. The Millennials are certainly not ready. We’ve got to stop playing it safe and get out there. It’s hard to do, I can attest to that. The fear of failure is real. But when it comes down to it, we have no choice. It’s start over again or live in a box under the interstate. Nick’s Boomer era job is ending. We must reinvent. If there’s anything that Xers are good at, it’s THAT.