This is Where We Used to Live

You know how it's really weird to go back to a place where you used to live and see how other people live there?

My first apartment in Portland was a weird little third-floor, three bedroom apartment near Maine Med. I lived there with my daughter (who was about 2 at the time) and two roommates.

It was blazing hot in the summer, had a leaky skylight and a problem with bazillipedes (if you live in Portland, you know which creepy-crawlies I'm talking about) and occasionally bats, but it was also the scene for our infamous Superhero Party (at which I made my Goatgirl debut). It was super cheap and super sketchy--the rent was paid in cash only and I never met the landlord. It's where I came out, where I met my best friend...

In today's newspaper is this picture of the building:

That's my old apartment you see there hanging out in the middle of the air. I used to sit in that window seat that's no longer there and watch my downstairs neighbors fight on the street. Those were the days...

No Tow On the Hill (Munjoy, that is)

Good news for hill-dwellers... apparently tow truck drivers can't take your car away any more for parking on the wrong side of the street.

The Bollard reports that thanks to a behind-the-scenes intervention by a city councilor, those tow truck drivers are no longer "acting like a bunch of freakin' renegade cowboys or something." Read more here.

Excellent. Now if they'd just do something about the West End. And pigeons.

Crock Pot Love

So thanks to J for suggesting a crock pot recipe share. Because the crock pot is one of my very favorite things about winter. I broke mine out two weeks ago when it was yucky/chilly/windy outside and made up some fabulous mustgo** chicken chili.

I really do think a crock pot pot luck would be excellent.

Also, check out a book for sale at just about any supermarket called the Fix-It And Forget-It Cookbook, which lays out the basics of crock-pot cooking. Keys to success are:

1)don't put in too much water

Actually, that's about it. Throw a bunch of stuff in the old cooker, leave it all day, come back and it's hot and done. You can even just boil taters that way. And according to that cookbook, you can bake bread and cakes and stuff too. Incredible.

Of course, leaving the crock pot alone all day tends to make me half-think that the house will be on fire when I get home, but I'm just like that. And it's never happened. Yet.

Here's my very favorite crock pot recipe.

Baked Beans

Soak overnight and then drain

1 lb. of Great Northern Beans

Place in bottom of crock pot:
1 peeled onion

Mix together
1/8 c. molasses
1/2 c. brown sugar
3T. prepared mustard (or 2t. dry mustard)
1/4 c. ketchup
1 t. allspice
(optional: 1 T. liquid smoke. I don't know what that stuff is but my tongue loves it.)
about 2c. boiling water (enough to cover the beans)

Pour this mixture over the beans.

Drop in:
3 pieces of bacon OR small a piece of salt pork OR 1/4 c. vegetable oil

Put on the cover, cook on HIGH 4-6 hours or on low 8-10 hours.

I like to add a little more molasses after the beans are done (if you put too much in at the beginning, the skins get hard. True story.)

Let me know if/how it works for you.

**Where the hell did all those tomatoes come from? How old is that chicken? It MUSTGO. Today.

Now Available at a Low, Low Price

I know a song that lists that fifty states in alphabetical order so
you don't forget any of them. I can teach you, if you like.

There's also one that lists the sixteen counties in Maine. My
daughter sings it too, but the counties are in a different order in
the one that she learned this year. Interestingly, we both learned
them in 4th grade. But mine was twenty years ago, and hers is now.

They All Should Be Like This

I had a lovely three-day weekend, thanks to my **new flexible work schedule** (tm). On Friday, K and I spent the entire day on the couch, watching movies and ordering Chinese food. It's true; I have lived in the city for almost six years now, and it still tickles me to have food brought to my house. Because I've lived in places where it just doesn't happen. At all. On Friday I didn't even have to get dressed, just stood up and opened the door and there was hot, delicious food standing there on the other side.

I should not have spent the day on the couch--I should have been car shopping. A week and a half ago, K was driving my car when a big-ass construction pickup truck rear-ended her and totalled the car. Everyone's pretty much OK--some minor back stuff going on for K--and the other guy's insurance is covering everything, but it's a huge pain in the butt and a lot of paperwork and phone calls and stuff. And I have to go shopping for a new car. Which I hate not just in principle, but in actuality.

So, continuing in the avoidance tradition, we took S to her painting class on Saturday and then spent the rest of the day having home improvement fun, partly in preparation for a friend's going-away party. She is going to Seattle on Thursday, and would someone please tell me what the heck is so ever-loving great about the west coast? Seriously? Because yesterday afternoon we ran into a completely different, unrelated friend who is planning a move to San Diego next year. And pretty soon I'm going to be the only queer left in this city while everyone else is dodging earthquakes by that other ocean.

Yesterday there was grocery shopping fun, some work at USM, and a jeep that got winterized at the sketchiest self-storage place ever.

Did I mention that I heart my new job?

Difficult conversation

Hey, blog, what's up?

.......

Yeah, I know it's been a while. I just thought I'd see how you're doing, you know, maybe hang out a little.

.......

What do you mean, you thought I'd be in touch. You could've called me too, darlin.

......

OK, that's a good point.

......

No, you're right.

......

I said I think you're right. But I do think you're reading a little more into this than is necessary. I've been real busy, you know. I moved in with my girlfriend and started a new job and stuff. Plus S has been pre-adolescent cranky and--

......

I know, sweetie. You are a priority to me.

.....

Don't say that. You are. I think about you all the time.

.....

No, it's not the same, but you are on my mind. A lot.

....

Well maybe you're expecting a little too much from this relationship, you know? Just because we've been hanging out a lot for a few months doesn't mean I have that kind of obligation to you.

......

Yes, I said obligation. Isn't that the same thing?

.....

Hold on, there's no need to talk like that.

.....

I never said how often I'd be in touch, you know.

.....

No, implying is not the same thing.

......

Well maybe you shouldn't have.

.....

I'm an autonomous individual, you know. I don't have to--

....

Me either.

.....

Yeah, maybe that's for the best.

.....

No, it doesn't have to be like that.

.....

I know you do. Me too.

.....

Look, why don't I call you next week and see how you're feeling? We can talk?

....

Okay.

.....

Okay, sweetie.

.....

You, too. Bye.