Thursday, June 26, 2014

My Name is Inogo Montoya

Prepare to Die.

Not really, y'all. C'mon. If I'd take you out, it would be way more subtle. And after a lunch of sweet tea, or dinner with cocktails - you know, the Southern way.

But this post is about revenge. Mostly.

This girl has been angry of late.

There are people I know who should be suffering; I hate that I want them to be experiencing such.

There are people I know who need grace - God's, as I do believe in such - and I am hoping it is received.

There are people who do things like . . . break in a car window and take a purse and phone, etc, happy go lucky and all that. [Insert expletive here- it happened to my mama two days ago! Outside the grocery!]

There are people I - see- daily -  who ask others for money and claim homelessness -  yet decline offers of a fresh meal from the restaurant outside, or a trip to the mini-grocery to get some food.

There are people I know who just. . . suck. I'd have placed an adverb in there but it would be tacky and . . . everything I do not want to be.

There are people who you have a hunch won't tip you well - or at all, honestly - then pay with a $20 gift card for a bill of  $22.91 - and leave $23 to cover the whole tab.

This time last year, I was still in my salad days, so to speak, and most if not all  meals were well-covered and much enjoyed, every day.

I took a shower a bit ago, after taking Sir Luke out for a walk, and picking up the application for the apartment I hope I will move into, soon.

And I thought, washing things and all that  when I got home, and picturing such in the new, potential place - I get to handle my own kitchen, my own life, my own dog.

Prepare to "die" in some way, if you dare mess with that.

Just sayin' . . .

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

When the Refrigafrator Lacks

When the Refrigafrator Lacks


Sometimes, a girl runs out of the things she likes best. Or - the things that actually make sense for a meal.

What do you actually do with the ingredients when you have Pimento cheese, one pre-made pizza crust, a little (unspoiled) spinach and a few mushrooms, butter, and a half bottle of OJ? And your "dry goods cabinet" has crackers and two boxes of pasta - oh, and a can of mixed nuts?

I am exaggerating - but not by much. I'm even out of Diet Coke - sure I can drink it for free at work, but what do I do when up at 6-7 and don't work till 10-11 - torture (first world problems I know, but would you want to go without your AM caffeine fix? I didn't think so). When you work 48 hours between the start of Memorial Day weekend and the Tues morning after (seriously, I counted; plus, we get a printout every shift that shows our hours for the week) . . . or the start of Riverbend, Fri the 6th to last night the 9th, a total of 37 hours . . .who has time to shop for groceries, let alone eat something better than wings and fries at work, around midnight (if you're lucky and don't have tables for a minute) because who wants a healthy salad at midnight? That would be no one.

Don't get me wrong - I really do like and even sometimes love working at Taco Mac. Really, the managers and the people I work with are 99% great - more than I have had anywhere else.

But, I like to cook - and I want to eat healthily as much as possible.

My hours are a real challenge, as are the dearth of decent, healthy, and reasonably priced meal options in downtown Chatt - I can get a slice of pizza with one topping for $4 at Mellow Mushroom, if I make it there before 2pm. Which means I had a crummy day working lunch and am done early enough to snag it. I can get something for $3 there  - including hummus and a great balsamic, mixed greens, tomato and mozz salad for $3 if I can wait till their happy hour special after a better lunch - but it's way more for a healthy sandwich at Panera . . .and there is no good grocery store I can get to without a serious walk or two bus rides, as this is a food desert.

With my half-off discount, is it any wonder I eat at work almost once a shift? No.

What do I do now? Well, I certainly enjoy the bi-monthly visits from Mom when she arrives with fortification from Costco (mostly appreciating that damn Diet Coke) and we do a major trip to the store. But the things I love best, and want to eat - go bad quickly; those mixed greens, spinach, tomatoes and melon don't last that long, especially when you aren't home to eat them!

Love - well, this post is about loving myself, with what I put in my body.

And, I have a conundrum (who uses that word, anymore?) I have yet to completely figure out. How do I look cute in those shorts and semi-tight football-jersey-but-girl-sized shirts when I am eating fries at midnight?

Oh, and Lukie has to eat, too. And I can't feed him that leftover turkey slice that we got at the last store run . . .

I buy what I can, when I can. That I know I will use without going bad. I make sure I have plenty of dog food. I eat out as necessary and economical. I sometimes split up L's dinner if I know I am leaving for work at 4pm and won't be home till 10pm or after. I try to eat lots of veggies and protein, and force myself to want (50% off) meals at work. Without fries.

And, I deal. And most of the time, the refigafrator is full.

But this all isn't me; it isn't what I want.

So - I ponder the alternatives, food- and other-wise. Nothing immediate, other than Mom's visit later this week to help me out - but . . .how do I feed myself, in any way, in a healthy, pleasant fashion.

Well, let's find out. Stay tuned.

PS . . . that slice the nice owner of Mellow Mushroom had me try, from the summer menu they are starting next week and testing out - that may be dinner for tonight.

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal

Saturday, June 7, 2014

HOME

Home

It's where the heart is, so they say.


Yeah, it actually really is. I went home yesterday - gosh it was a quick visit, with a lot of things on the to-do list - but it was . . .

So. Absolutely. Good.

Sometimes, "good" is an underrated word. But the past 36 hours have been just about the best I've had in quite awhile. And, somehow, so very "good" is what comes to mind.

Daddy got me, and we had to get back to Atlanta to deal with doctor stuff. He was shocked and impressed that Luke was so calm and content in the backseat (his Grandmom likes to make him ride in the crate in her SUV but there's no room in Grandaddy's car) but I just assured him that's how we roll in Chattavegas, and all is good.

Home . . that has meant a lot of things for me in the last few years. Places I've lived, or my parents have lived, or we've lived together: note, don't have a tree fall on your apt and have to move in with your parents that night, dog in tow. . . to  - heart stuff, like thinking I'd found the love of my life, or saying goodbye to someone, or friends moving, or...

I haven't been to our beach house in too long. When we go there, together as a family, for Thanksgiving or Easter - we outsource the cooking. Not sure what's up for this year, but it being summer and all - the beach makes me think of home since it has long been such a big part of our family's life.

I don't know if I will get to the beach this summer - I hope! -  but I got to go home last night. Whatever the actual domain is, where my family is, that is home. Daddy was down in his office watching Fox News, I was upstairs with "Scandal" playing on my laptop; Luke ventured somewhere in between while I checked on my (SIX loads of) laundry, and . . .all was good, and for a bit, right in the world.

We had dinner last night at the Club, and I was so happy that a precious friend of mine could come, and meet my Dad for the first time. I had a chicken Caesar, nothing exciting (though I had plenty of those damn good buttered saltines I have never been able to duplicate at home!) but Em loved her pork chop, Dad loved talking about her skills as a professional bbq contest judge... and I was happy, because I was with people I love, and all was - "good."

Sometimes, it is the little things that are so big. A friend making time in her schedule to meet you on the only day you are in town in six months. A dad who picks you up and takes you back to your city, after other stuff, like dr appointments and lunch and dinner and . . . saying "good night" when it was time to tuck in.

I have said this before, but I know  I have taken it for granted at times -  I am a lucky, blessed girl. Despite some challenges, life - and salads or crackers -  are . . .good. And with a dose of home this week, I feel fortified. That is  - well, beyond good.

Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal