Ham Fried Rice

to Gene Simmons Family Jewels.

I know. It’s grotesque. It’s bizarre. It’s ridiculous. And yesterday I couldn’t take my eyes off the telly. No, I am not a KISS fan or a Gene Simmons fan. I do not condone any part of his purported shenanigans or former lifestyle. But the show was so engrossing, I watched a marathon of back-to-back-to-back episodes, while I was vacuuming, cleaning the living room, washing the dishes… (Matt is going to cringe when he reads this. Sorry, honey.) It’s the voyeur in me. Nonsexual, of course.
Best parts of the shows:

• His kids’ commentaries. Hilarious.
• The number of people who don’t recognize him or know who “Gene Simmons” is and request multiple forms of ID from him. I loooove it.
• Seeing places in L.A…. Bristol Farms or Ralphs Fresh Fare where we used to shop, etc. I miss it.

It’s like watching a train wreck. I may have to add this to my tivo list. Oh, the shame.

1. feeling resentment against someone because of that person’s rivalry, success or advantages.

Example: I am jealous of Matt because he is back in Los Angeles this week for training and will see our friends and eat in fabulous places while I am home with the kids.

We lived in Santa Monica for five years and I am still attached by heartstrings. If I could afford to give my kids the same kind of life in L.A. as I can here in a small, rural town, then I would gladly flee back to the city.

Evil. Awesome. Ghetto. Fill in the blank.

From a middle class consumer perspective, Wal-Mart is a lifesaver for one’s pocketbook. For $120, I’m able to purchase all food needs to feed a family of five mouths for one week. This includes fresh meats and fruits and veggies. However, as I push my cart from aisle to aisle, I can’t help but notice how “ghetto” Wal-Mart is. And every Wal-Mart “ghetto” is the same. From the stock (or lack of stock,) to the setup of the store, to the complete lack of customer service and lack of check-out cashiers. And while I end up with a great grocery bill, I’m usually out of sorts about the whole experience.

Here are the needed items on my list that they were out of last night at 8 p.m.

• Cherry flavored Craisins
• Provolone cheese slices (Wal-Mart brand)
• String cheese (Cache Valley brand)
• All pepperoni (seriously, the entire display was empty. No brands of any kind.)
• Movie Theatre Butter popcorn (Orville Redenbacher)
• Yellow squash
• BANANAS (for crying out loud!!)
• Gallon size storage bags (Wal-Mart brand)

And while their diaper prices are cheapest around town, they usually happen to be out my baby’s size when I need them. Thankfully, I didn’t need them yesterday.

I realize, as I wander through the aisles, zigzagging around the pallets of boxes, that they’re about to restock after 10 p.m. However, you would think a corporation of this magnitude would be able to keep things stocked in their stores throughout the day.

My aggravation doesn’t even cover the usual frustration of trying to find someone to help you, or standing in one of four check-out lanes for 30 minutes. But that’s for another day. I know the adage, “you get what you pay for.” And Wal-Mart is cheap. I suppose after watching clips of Wal-Mart: The High Cost of Low Price, I should think again about continuing to support their corporation. I guess I must enjoy torturing myself.

Score: SuperTarget 1. Wal-Mart 0.

Yesterday we watched two 80’s flicks back-to-back. Can you guess which films from the quotes?

“That’s a Rolls Royce!”

“That’s the Prom Queen!”

“You got two girls in one night!”

and

“Beth, you were standing by Oscar. Tell me…is he your main wiener man?”

Who notices when laundry’s washed and cleared,

No one.

Who decries there are no clean socks to wear,

Everyone.

Who marks the floors are mopped and cleaned,

No one.

Who feels as the sticky touches feet,

Everyone.

Who sees the toilet scrubbed and glistening,

No one.

Who sniffs at stains and rings,

Everyone.

Who hears the vacuum’s constant humming,

No one.

Who feels the crusties and some crumblings,

Everyone.

Who notes the unending dusting,

No one.

Who fingers the filthy fluffy,

Everyone.

Who says, “Thank you!” when it’s done,

No one.

But who will notice the dirty and the scum,

Everyone.

(copyright 2008)

Housekeeping is the most thankless job I’ve ever had.

Oh Play Doh, how I love you!
I love the feeling of your freshness,

When I open your new can.

Your soft and supple form,

So pliable in my hands.

As you entertain my children,

I dote upon you, friend.

For giving me an hour’s repose,

While they play again and again.

I’d like to sing your praises,

With more poetry and prose.

But, “Alas!” my infatuation ends,

When my daughter shoves you up her nose.

by Karen Liu, copyright 3.06.2008

Yes, it’s true. My two year-old started to cry. I ran over and she pointed to her nose. Upon inspection, I noticed bright pink Play Doh up one nostril. Needless to say, we took a trip to the doctor’s office, but all ended well. Apparently she cried so much she snorted it up and swallowed it. So nothing stuck in the nose. Good-bye Play Doh. You are hereby banned from my home.

An actual ham fried rice recipe… maybe the same one my father and I made for seventy people the other day, but only if you’re lucky.

Grocery List:

• Green onion
• Eggs (probably 2)
• Ham (I dice deli meat. Maybe 1 cup.)
• Mixed vegetables (I prefer the frozen peas and carrots mix. Or just peas. Not beans.)
• Cooking oil
• Salt and pepper
• White rice (I’m testing the amount of cooked rice I need.)

Instructions to follow.