Day 287-- Chicken wings and watermelon slices recipe

Prologue:

A few weeks ago my bf and I were on the prowl for a late-night dinner, going up and down the streets of the neighboring town.  We settled on this wing place which looked like a bad idea from the start, with its bright colors, high school football team atmosphere-- plus it was about a block away from a strip club.  

Surprise surprise, the food was awful.  My wings were coated in this orange dripping goo which tasted like some unnatural paste you've had in your cupboard for 6 years.  Hell, even the breadstick was wack, as it was some microwaved bread sprayed with wet butter and garlic taste.  I vowed I would make my own, and a much much better variety. 

Ingredients:

21/4 pounds of chicken wings

1/2 teaspoon of salt

1/2 teaspoon of pepper

1 teaspoon of cayenne pepper

1 cup of chili sauce (mild, spicy; whatever you fancy)

Directions:

1. Preheat your oven to 400 degrees.  If the tips haven't been cut from your wings, go ahead and either slice them off with a knife or cut the tips with kitchen scissors. Wash off the wings with cold water.

They should look like this in oven

2. Sprinkle a nice amount of black pepper and a few dashes of salt over the wings and rub the spices into the meat.  Sprinkle a generous amount of cayenne pepper over the wings and rub into the meat as well.

3. Line a cookie sheet with aluminum foil and place all of the wings on top.  Bake for about 20 minutes until the wings are golden.  Flip the wings over and bake for another 20-30 minutes until that side is golden brown as well.

4. Once you've pulled the wings out, drizzle with the chili sauce to get them soaked.  Wait about 1-2 minutes for the wings to absorb the sauce, and done

Review:

Wings are SO MUCH BETTER homemade, as agreed upon by the members of the house and their happy sauced finger tips and lips. Here's the thing about chicken: you need to be patient with it.  I have no idea why a steak can cook in 15 minutes and chicken takes 45, but that's life, and if you're cooking wings tonight make sure you start them before you get hungry (say around 5pm).  I served mine with watermelon slices and homemade potato skins.

Day 286-- Pam Anderson, Gwen Stefani, Russell Brand, and a playboy bunny enter a room...

Pamala Anderson, Gwen Stefani, Russell Brand, and a playboy bunny enter a room...

With 90s house music blaring, The Canadian, The Dietitian, the bf and I got ready for a party up in San Diego.  Now, I hate to stereotype, but I've liked just about every hairdresser I've ever met, and Mona, with her vibrant hair, tons of make-up, quick laugh, and warm personality is no exception.  Mona is a cousin of one of the neighbors and invited us to her welcome home party for her sailor husband (they're both 24ish, btw). 

The theme was a costume party, and if you think that sailors and costumes don't mix, well, stay tuned.

Mona asked my bf to dress up like Russell Brand like he had two Halloweens ago.  He still has all of the stuff--skull rings, leather bracelet, black fedora, a black pinstripe suit shirt, plus my on-loan skinny pants and my eye liner. He bought some black spray paint for his long golden hair and done!

The Dietitian was at a loss of what to wear so she looked around her room and found some pink boxers, loose boy jeans, a tank top, wrist warmers, and with some Rite-Aid sticky jewels on her forehead and flat stomach she was Gwen Stefani.

The Canadian has her trucker hat that says CANADA, so with some heels, short shorts, black marker to look like a barbed wire tattoo, a white shirt, and some balloons bought at Rite-Aid with the balloon ties moved to the front to look like nibbles, Pam Anderson was born.

I had been Katy Perry to the bf's Russell Brand, but since they're now divorced it was better to look for a different costume.  My sexy book costume from Halloween was too tame, all of the sheets were too long for a toga, and so in the aisles of Rite-Aid I found some bunny ears.  In my house I already had heels, fishnets, a blue corset, black short shorts, and some blue nail polish and the playboy bunny look was complete. 

We danced around the house as they took shots to pre-party, and we pumped outside around 10 for the ride there.  Admittedly we were more than curious how it would turn out.  The beach culture and the military culture don't always mix.

And wouldn't you know it, there were about 20 sailors and their girlfriends/wives and only two of them had on costumes.  Like I learned in going to a party school, when being outrageous and standing out, do it big and do it sexy.  Who the fuck cares?  Be the life of the party.

For the most part, everyone was pretty nice.  It took awhile to break the ice, but the conversations were mellow once people opened up.  There were tons of mixed drinks and techno in the background, plus a fire pit in the backyard.

And I like Mona's husband.  He was polite and funny, with a cigarette always dipped in his mouth like a commercial, and a plate of hot dogs he made for all of us.

We stayed until about 1am when the booze was starting to get too heavy.  While most of the night was spent chatting with people and casualness, my boyfriend was getting made fun a little too much, and with a slight argument over a pocket knife, and a few too many "faggot"s spewed out (I haven't heard that word since my freshmen year in high school), and it was getting pretty obvious that us in our fake boobs, lingerie, and fedora hat were becoming more out of place.  

The general consensuses on the ride home was that it felt really good to get out of our comfort zone and be in a different scene and a different part of town, but with some annoyance and embarrassment that it was a costume party and we were the only ones all dressed up.  It's kinda like that scene in Legally Blonde when she shows up for a party and feels like an idiot for being the only one in costume.  Like I told them, "You know, I don't really give a fuck.  Because I can guarantee you they'll remember us but we won't remember them." The Canadian/Pam Anderson laughed, "You know, I had this guy who came up to me and said, 'For the life of me I can't remember your name but I can't help but stare at your boobs." Isn't it something that even when boobs are egregiously fake that they'll still attract aroused attraction?  

And so we were home, and us two rock stars and two porn stars played hacky sack with one of Pam's balloon boobs.   A good night.

Day 281-- Trip to Seattle?

This pretty much explains my thought process

What this is trying to say is:

1.) I'm thinking about taking a trip to Seattle where Amazon Publishing and the University of Washington are located.

and 

2.) I don't know how to draw an airplane. 

Day 280-- The aggrevation of a piece of shit computer

Well, I only have about [feels bottom of laptop] maybe 7-8 minutes left before my computer shuts off on itself.  Fucking thing is on its last days.  I think the fans are broken, and the power cord hasn't been working properly for about two weeks.   I just ordered a new power cord for $8 on Amazon to try and make this thing last me until at least August when all of the good back-to-school sales start up.  I mean, it might work.  Or it might be a hardware problem and I simply need a new computer.  I do need one, but I would prefer to get one on sale or with a little somethin' somethin' extra included like they do for back-to-school, or Black Friday, or Christmas time sales.  

I dunno.  It was a piece of shit when I got it, it's been a piece of shit every time it's crashed, and now in its last days/months it's a piece of shit on its deathbed.  Such a huge aggravation since on a cold day like today I was planning on spending a few hours online looking for jobs, making a cd mix, finishing some letters, and watching a movie.   Fucking computer.  

Day 279-- Gringo chicken enchiladas

Prologue: 

I'm beginning to form a theory that maybe I'm not necessarily a picky eater like everyone thinks, but rather, I just don't like how restaurants prepare certain foods.  For instance, I've never liked soup that much, but once I started making my own I now suddenly do like soup.  So maybe what I don't like is canned, over-processed, or siiting-in-the-back-kitchen-for-6-hours soup.

And I have never liked enchiladas.  I've always found them to be way too saucy with not enough chicken, and the chicken that was featured was the fatty parts of the meat.  So when I got this weird craving for enchiladas I decided to make them my own my way, granted, the "gringo" way.  Gringo= Spanish slang to denote American foreigners--usually meant negatively but is used in SoCal with affection ex. the Dos Gringos restaurant chain.

As a gringo, I don't really like corn tortillas.  Sure, I'll use them for quesadillas if they're the only things in the refrigerator, but as a whole I just prefer flour.  Also, for this recipe I didn't use chipotle peppers because I'm a wimp, and I used black olives because they're yummy.  All that said, here it is:

Gringo Chicken Enchiladas

Prep time: 15 minutes

Cook time: 30 minutes

Total time: 45ish minutes

Ingredients

3 tablespoon olive oil

1 rotisserie chicken 

salt and pepper

2 teaspoon garlic powder

1 red onion chopped

2 cloves of garlic

1 can of corn (low sodium)

5 canned whole green chilies, seeded

1 can chopped tomatoes

10-15 flour tortillas

1 packet of enchilada sauce (which will call for one 6oz can of tomato paste+ water)

1 cup of colby jack cheese

1 small can of sliced black olives drained

garnish, cilantro leaves or salsa

Directions

1.) Dice up your red onion and your garlic if you buy them whole (I always buy minced garlic in those small jars. 1/2 a teaspoon = 1 garlic clove).  Heat up a large pot and drizzle in about 2 teaspoons of the olive oil.  Pour in your diced onions and garlic, stirring occasionally so they cook, not burn.

2.) While those two things cook, use your hands to shred your rotisserie chicken into tiny strips.  Sprinkle the strips with the garlic powder, salt, and pepper

3.) Take your green chiles out of the can, de-seed them, and dice them up.  Open your can of corn and drain.  Open your can of olives and drain.  Open up your can of diced tomatoes, but don't drain.  Add the chiles, chicken, tomatoes, corn, olives, and the last tablespoon of olive oil to the pot and stir.

4.) Heat up your oven to 350 degrees.  Follow the directions of your enchilada sauce packet.  Mine called for medium sauce pot and required bring to boil 3 cups of water, one 6oz can of tomato paste, and the packet mix.  Once it boils, bring it down to low temperature for about 10 minutes so it can thicken.  

5.) While you're waiting for the enchilada sauce to thicken, grate your cheese for about 1 cup's worth.  You can also pull out your flour tortillas, cover them with a damp paper towel, and stick them in the microwave for about 30 seconds to make them more pliable.

6.) Pull out a medium size glass baking dish.  Fill it with half of the enchilada sauce.  Now take a tortilla and dip into the sauce to get the entire thing coated.  Fill the sauced tortilla with a good helping of the chicken/pepper/corn/olives/tomato mix.  Roll up and place the tortilla seem down in the baking dish.  Repeat for the rest of the tortillas until all of them are tightly packed in there.   Sprinkle with your cheese and extra olives if you wish.

7.) Bake for about 10 minutes, or until the cheese is golden.  Take out and garnish with some cilantro or salsa.  Done!

Review

Funny how people always seem wake up, come home, or suddenly get really hungry right as something is coming out of the oven, haha.  It was a bit hit actually.  "Why can't Mexican food taste like this when I order it?" said The Canadian, and the rest of the house quickly ate up the rest.

It's a perfect dish to mix things up from too many pasta and hamburger nights, and for all of the ingredients listed, it's really not that much of a chore as long as you have a can opener and your finger tips. If you like real Mexican food, you'll probably hate this dish.  But if you like cooking from a 3rd generation Mexican/Portuguese whose Spanish is limited to "hola" "buen", and "pulga" then this is the dish for you.  Happy cooking!

Day 279-- Flying kites and the happiness of wet sand

New Years Resolution #19: Fly a kite.  Done. :)

Hello, Saturday and 75+ degrees outside at the beach for the kite festival.

We woke up around 9:30 at my place and started laughing about my boyfriend's drunk antics during the night.  He gets drunk maybe twice a year and last night was a real beauty when around 3am he got lost in my roommate's bathroom down the hall and almost locked himself inside by accident.  We were laughing so hard tears leaked out.

Finally around 11 we were ready to walk down to the kite festival.  I had purposefully requested today off work just so I could cross #19 off of my list of things to do, and what a perfect day for it.  It was definitely more kid-friendly with all of the games and puppets and mini rides, and I wasn't sure if I had the guts to make my own kite along with the kiddies.

But first breakfast and my absolute favorite hole-in-the-wall bakery in town which is simply called Donuts (which are only 70¢ by the way).  We got bagels with cream cheese and some milk, and sat at one of the few tables near the ice machine.  My boyfriend looked about ready to either fall asleep on the table or throw up on it so he politely decided it was best for him to go home for a nap and recovery.

So I finished my everything bagel and headed to Rite Aid to buy a kite.  I admit I felt a little silly in line as the clerk gave me an odd eye as if to say, 'Aren't you a little old for this?'.  Well, fuck her!  I bought my cheap owl kite and headed off to the beach.

Do you want to know what's funny?  When I got to the beach I was slightly confused on why it was so busy on "my" beach.  Duh, it's Spring Break.  Most people have to spend tons of money on gas to drive here or fly here and stay at hotels and stuff.  I live down the street from the ocean.  Pretty fucking cool!

And so I tried to fly my kite like the lady next to me.  We were both on top of the sand mountains the lifeguards create to cut down on the wind.  I would get air for about 30 seconds before the inevitable crash, though in all fairness, there was very little wind at the time and everyone was having trouble.

So I walked to my boyfriend's house for a few hours and made plans for an enchiladas dinner, plus groceries for the week.  I'm so tired of us being malnourished and only eating 1-2 meals a day, and with all of the bonuses I've won over the past week it was worthy of a food splurge.  

On my walk back home I decided to hit the sand mountains one last time, and was quickly disappointed that my kite would only fly for less than a minute.  Than stupidity finally hit me and I realized that my string should be tied to the flap on top of the kite instead of in the middle of the stick on the underbelly.  I made the fix and it soared.

I was so giddy I starting singing, "Let's Go Fly a Kite" from Mary Poppins--albeit, away from anyone who might have heard me.  Resolution done!  

My neighborhood

And in an ironic moment an old friend texted me about Portland and more good reviews on it.  When I wrote to her a month ago I was more gun-hoe about moving to Oregon for the trees and protest but since then things have...shifted.  I think it was when I visited Arizona and I realized that hey, I have a pretty good life in San Diego and while I'm still figuring out what exactly I want to do as a career and waiting for the job market to pick back up, it's pretty cool to be figuring it out while doing some once-in-a-lifetime beach living.  

And more than that, there isn't a deadline.  And that's a concept I've only now understood.  There is no deadline anymore, there is no graduation anymore.  There is only life.  And what kind of life do we want?

A week ago I was driving home when it hit me, "I live here.  I am a San Diegan."  Or maybe it was when I got my CA license a few weeks ago.  And I definitely know it was when I took my AZ friend's advice to live like I live in California and be open to the future, because living in a suitcase was making me miserable.

I realize that this change may seem sudden, or a surrender, or a 'choosing a guy over me'.  But really, I'm happy.  It's 46 degrees in Portland today.  And here I was on a Saturday afternoon, a simple walk to the beautiful Pacific ocean with the hippies and the dreadlocks, and preparing to make some yummy enchiladas after a wonderful round of sex, and flying a kite for the hell of it, and you just can't beat California.  You can't.  You can't beat the happiness of this relaxed lifestyle the first year post-college.  And look, it's not forever.  I'm not buying a house here or getting married or making roots.  I'm just living.  And after being blue and stressed and severely disappointed with myself these past few months it's really nice to be happy.

My part of town

After waking up alone 97% of the time in college due to my relationship being long-distance, it makes me happy to wake up to his handsome face and sandy blond hair as he makes fun of me for being a bed hog.  After getting anxiety attacks for being in the vast empty dead desert it makes me happy to walk outside and see the ocean.  After 16 years of tests, and essays, it makes me happy to have absolute free time.  And sex.  I will be writing an entry all about female sexuality this week, but for now let me say the gist: people have sex.  

Woman have sex.  But because it isn't talked about, it's become taboo and viciously attacked socially and politically.  We need to make information on sex less invisible to ensure our rights to chose sex and information to have good sex.  Pleasure is important.  Pleasure is a part of our reality, and it's certainly a part of mine in this post-college life, along with chocolate chip scones and wet sand on bare feet.

Speaking of which, I got my boyfriend to come join me in flying my kite.  Funny how a guy seems to know all about aerodynamics as the kite is flying...until it crashes [laughs].  We had a really good time out there watching the little plastic owl fly and trying not to crash on any people when the winds changed.


I'll talk more about enchiladas in my next entry, but let me say, Food 4 Less is my new favorite store.  I got a sack of potatoes for less than $2.  And I bought a watermelon for about $2.50.  Plus some spices for $0.89, and grapes for about $4.  More happiness!  

And what a perfect time to talk to S----.  We've been playing phone tag for weeks and in one of the last time we spoke she was having some drama with people and fighting the cold of the East Coast, and I was at my lowest low in being unhappy about work and my boyfriend being shady about his near-unemployement with the market being shut down and I truly wanted to leave California.  In this conversation she sounded great.  There's a love interest peeking on the horizon and she's actually really happy living in her town for now.  I told her about how the bf has been much more open with me about his work declining and the side jobs he's been taking to make ends meat, and being more open in general about our mutual poorness.  Plus work's been better and I look for new work every week. And as cheesy as it sounds, maybe what I want to do just isn't around yet.  Maybe that writing/social activist/feminist/creative/publishing/communications thing isn't quite there yet, or maybe I'm just not there yet.  But for now, it's ok.  

We talked about how we're out of the "blue stage", that cliff right after college when your life is shit because you realize you're not as important or talented as you think.  But then you accept what you are.  And you make plans to grow.  And you become happy and open for the things to come.

And so I'm happy.  It's not perfection, and I do wish that my career was in a better state. But you know what, I flew a muthafuckin kite on a beautiful day in a gorgeous city I live in, with someone who loves me and I love back, and well, I could end this entry by telling you that as I was driving at sunset with the palm trees in the window Coldplay's "Paradise" came on.  But I don't think you'd quite believe me. :)