The Answer to All Your Financial (and other) Problems!

Some of us are really suffering financially right now. The car industry is crashing in the United States, people are losing their jobs and houses, and many of us just don't have the extra walking-around-money that we used to.

I found inspiration when I heard about an upcoming fundraiser to take place in Ruidoso next week. A couple who has been trying, unsuccessfully, to reproduce is having a private party that you can go to (yes, you) for just $30 to help them raise money for whatever treatments are necessary for them to win at the game of making a mini-me. Chefs from around town are volunteering to prepare the donated food, and drinks will be served as well. I'm not certain if the booze is included, but it doesn't matter because I won't be attending.

Personally, I find this event wrong on so many levels. Whether or not these folks are feeling the pinch from the economy is really besides the point. If they don't have enough money to have fertility treatments, they probably don't have enough money to properly rear a child, clothe it, send it off to school, help it survive on the $20K he or she will make post-college, etc. It seems that many of these "deals" also result in multiples that the parents can't afford, in which case they sell their souls to TLC for diapers, Juicy Juice, and Johnson & Johnson baby hygiene products.

I may sound incredibly harsh to an innumerable amount of people, but I more or less subscribe to natural selection, and if you can't do it on your own, you probably weren't meant to spawn. But as humans, we have options. There are the fertility treatments/procedures that can have great results for responsible parents, or they can result in multiples that have to be terminated, or the ol' trial and error miscarriage. Why can people who want children initiate a risky pregnancy that will likely result in miscarriage, or initiate a pregnancy that will likely result in multiple embryos that must be removed, but the women who seek, and the doctors who perform, abortions are persecuted and killed for their choice? This seriously has ethical debacle written all over it, but I doubt many people here (including myself) would be brave enough to say something publicly.

Another option is adoption. I don't know how much it costs in comparison to fertility treatments, but why doesn't the couple in question consider taking on a child who was abandoned or whose parents could not care for him or her? Why bring another child onto this already crowded planet when there are plenty here already who need homes?

You know, have kids if you are so inclined, but please be responsible adults in stable relationships and in stable financial situations. I encourage you to give the world intelligent, well-mannered individuals that you can care for until they are well and able to care for themselves.

And in the meantime, I'll be planning my superficial fundraiser so I can get Botox and liposuction. If you need financial help, you should plan one too...

Last Chance...

This is not exactly an important post. I guess none of mine really are, right? Anyways, as some of you may or may not know, I went to see Kings of Leon last week in Phoenix. They rocked. Melted my face off a little. The concert was sold out (packed) with die hard KoL fans and a bunch of posers who looked a lot like they just had a season pass to the Mesa Amphitheater.

I've been a Kings of Leon fan since I heard them on Sirius (I think on Alt Nation) like two years ago. Believe it or not, as young as they still are, they've been making music for many years. If you're not a fan yet, or haven't heard of them (which amazingly many people haven't), this is probably your last chance to check them out before they blow up Sunday on the MTV Movie Awards. I imagine they'll play "Sex on Fire" or "Use Somebody" and the rest will be history (along with their now somewhat-over-thought hair styles... except the drummer; his flair is expressed with a glittering silver drum kit). But seriously, if you haven't heard Caleb Followill sing yet, you're missing out.

Tangent: My other new favorite band just happened to open for KoL. They're called The Walkmen and have a really cool sound. Kinda old rock. Like ghost guitars being played by some really unassuming guys. I love to see a band before a stylist gets to them. They had cheap jeans, un-ironed shirts and probably self-cut hair. But I loved Hamilton Leithauser's Wayfarers. I know what you're wondering: Were they Ray Bans? I don't know. I do know they moved out to the grassy knoll after their set and awaited girls to wander towards their rock star magnetism, after which they seem to have disappeared. I have a feeling some chicks missed KoL to party with The Walkmen. Anyways, check them out too.

I'm not a music critic. I just know what I like and don't like, which ranges from Guns n' Roses to The BeeGees. So judge for yourself, but check them out. You won't be sorry! :)

Updates and Whatnot

It seems like not much has been going on, but maybe a lot has. The year wasn't off to the best start, as one of my friends passed away, and his funeral was the same day that my own brother died three years ago. I went to Farmington for the services, which was basically like an out of body experience, going back to my hometown, seeing a couple of high school/college friends, and sleeping in the house I lived in for most of my teen years.

Death trips aside, I've been staying busy at Landlocked, bartending, making the desserts, planning killer beer and wine dinners, etc. Business seems pretty good despite this slow season and the economy and I'm just having fun, doing nothing with my degrees, and starting to really not care about that fact.

Aaron and I got a Great Dane puppy in December and her name is Penelope. She is awesome and huge and just a great dog. I had to get Willie neutered because he fell madly in love with her about three weeks ago for some reason. It was pretty pathetic watching an eight pound poodle try and get it on with a 50-pound Great Dane...

I'm looking forward to a great rest of the year and hopefully I'll be more inspired to write interesting and witty things like I used to soon...

Ignorance is Bigotry?

I'm not sure who I will eventually freak out on, but I am becoming more and more sickened by the jokes, emails and comments about our President-Elect. I received an email today from a friend that had photos of all the former Presidents' vehicles, mostly limousines, with the names of the Presidents who rode in them underneath, ending with a picture of some asinine-looking orange low rider and "Guess who?" typed under it. Amusing...

Aaron received a text message the night of the election from an unknown number that said, "What do Abraham Lincoln, John F. Kennedy and Barack Obama have in common? Nothing... yet." When did death threats become funny?

Recently I became involved in a conversation about how the White House will be redecorated for the new President. To keep a longer story short, mentions of beaded doorways and dinners of fried chicken and collard greens were made. I just kept quiet, silently taking stock of the complete and utter ignorance of some of the people whose company I apparently employ.

What shocks me is my/our tolerance of this type of speech. I'm am clearly not opposed to free speech, but our individual lack of awareness of the people who surround us and what their personal views may or may not be disturbs me. Why do people assume I would find a racial joke about our next President funny? I am proud to say I voted for Barack Obama, but I am beginning to feel ashamed that I tolerate the ignorant-speak all around me. I was worried that my vehicle would be vandalized if I put any sort of Obama-Biden paraphernalia on it before the election. Actually, in Ruidoso I'd be afraid of what might happen to my car even though he won!

What I am not afraid of is the competence of the rest of us - the rest of the world - who celebrated the election of a new President who undoubtedly has more couth, grace and diplomacy in his little finger than our current President has in his entire body. President Bush had shoes hurled at him in Iraq. I am sad to admit that one of the few countries that may happen to Barack Obama is our own, a country that was supposedly founded upon tolerance and freedom.

Be aware and educated if you are going to share your bigoted opinions. And next time you want to push racist jokes about a President who has already begun to alter the negative impressions most of the world has of the United States, be ready to debate.

Three Moments Defining My Age (thus far)

I first started to "believe" I was getting old last year (or possibly the year before) when my laugh lines started to stick. And by stick, I mean they don't go away when my smile does. It was mildly devastating, but there's not much I can do about it besides freeze my face with Botox, which I may eventually do. Never say never!

The second happened to me last year around this time. The cover of Rolling Stone featured a saucy-looking group of hooligans... thin, smoking, leather-clad, with hair bigger than mine was after my last perm. Otherwise known as Guns n' Roses, circa 1987. The cover was in celebration of Appetite for Destruction's twenty year anniversary. Picture an 8-year-old Sarah jamming out to Mr. Brownstone, unwittingly singing along to the bitchin' tunes, "...and when you're high you never, ever wanna come down." I had no idea what it meant, I just knew it ROCKED. However, seeing the cover of The Rolling Stone, knowing it was the second album I fell in love with after John Cougar Mellencamp's The Lonesome Jubilee... It just really made me feel my age.

The last incident happened quite recently. I purchased tickets to see Beck next week in El Paso and was bragging to a couple of Landlocked employees about it, one of whom is approximately 17 years old. Said teenager had no idea who Beck was (even though he has a new album out) and was disturbingly unfamiliar with such classics as "Where It's At," "Loser," and "Devil's Haircut." I promptly conducted a YouTube search to school this young mind in the ways of Beck, only to realize he has gone from pop star to indy jammer. His newer stuff is just as good as the classics that I popped into my $300 CD player ten or eleven years ago. Maybe he just needs to fire his public relations and/or promotions people. Check out Gamma Ray, and just try to lie to me and say you don't want to get up and start doing some sort of a dance involving mime-swimming.

But alas, I am still going to concerts, and I haven't had anyone guess my age lately, maybe for a reason. So I can't be that old, can I? I ran a 5K last weekend, I text message more than I talk on the phone, I have an iPod as of earlier this year, I'm up on the lingo (Right off!) and the new tunes that are tolerable. I may not know what Ne-Yo is, but I'm rockin' to Kings of Leon, My Morning Jacket and Santogold! Ah, who am I fooling? I may be old, but I am still f@cking cool.**

**This opinion belongs to the author. :)

Long Time, No Blog

For shame. It has been months since I've blogged, or written anything besides restaurant orders or checks. I wonder if anyone even checks to see if I've written anymore. The last three months have been strange and great and fun, but I'm glad they're over. Working eight-plus shifts at Le Bistro a week, plus making super-fantastic desserts for Landlocked, plus desserts on occasion for Bistro, plus trying to keep up with yogging... was trying. One week I had to work about eight shifts and make twelve cakes for a party of 200, which also happened to be the same day of the wonderful floods. Good times, Mother Nature!

The summer has ended on some fantastical notes, though. I am officially working with my awesome-o boyfriend at Landlocked and it's been fun so far. We'll see if he's ready to fire my whiny butt anytime soon. I also got to play bridesmaid in Evelyn's wedding last weekend, which was wonderful. So wonderful, that when I got to give my #2 speech, I cried the whole way through and undoubtedly made a complete tool of myself (and embarrassed the crap out of Aaron by catching the bouquet later... WHOOPS!). But it was incredible to see all of my college friends. It makes me sad that we all don't live in Las Cruces and hang out at The Brew after happy hour at Si Senor, but it also makes the times we do get together even more special.

Anyhoo, I am hoping my new slave arrangement will allow for more writing time, ergo more blogs in the future. Birthdays are coming up, so some fodder much come from getting old. OLD. Check back...

Fellow Elitists Sought

Elitist seeks like-minded individual(s) for general social purposes, probably just some drinks and heckling, maybe some lively pop culture discussion, attendance at a movie from time to time, etc. Magic christians, hippies, drug addicts, those with sub par intelligence and/or offensive body odor need not apply, as well as people with identifiable neuroses they take seriously. Interested parties please apply via witty, entertaining, and grammatically correct comments to this blog.


This is basically my way of saying I miss all of my friends, who are spread all over the country, and I can't wait to spend some quality time with my girls this weekend in Albuquerque (a.k.a. The Artist Formerly Known as Steve, or TAFKAS). Do 90 percent of the people in Ruidoso just suck, or am I so much of a snob that no one dare find out that I am actually a pretty easygoing person?


*Visit again soon because I will certainly be blogging about the Texans and my dining experiences with them very soon.

Death Dreams and the Turnaround

I like to try to keep my blog as un-diary-esque as possible, but sometimes we all need to write a little something when attention trumps opinion.

Yesterday morning I woke up for a while, very early, and had some trouble falling back to sleep, but when I did I had a dream starring my dead brother. We were building or creating something, like a painting or a sculpture to our right side. I was sitting in front of him, and working with one hand, not seeing who was behind me, but knowing. Then I heard him sort of sniffing, crying, and whatnot, so I turned around and asked what was wrong, "Why are you crying?" He said he was sad because he missed Matt, but he was Matt, so I awoke confused, missing my brother more than usual, and wishing someone in this stupid world knew what it is like to lose your sibling and have your entire family dynamic crushed to bits, and have it become clearer and clearer every day that it is irreparable; that it will never, ever be the same, and probably won't even come to a point where things are even mildly comfortable.

Who can you convey your feelings to when it seems like no one wants to hear about death and grief? I use paper, a pen, my keyboard. It even seems taboo in my own house, with my brother and mom, who might be two people who understand, but things are so strained, I find it hard to even discuss the album I bought yesterday with them.

So anyways, I suppose my dreams that I remember with my brother are about as frequent as they have been since he died. It made me more sad than usual for a while, I cried, then I realized it wasn't doing me any good to be morose and depressed, so I let my mind wander and, in my crazed mind of minds, came up with a name for teeth that are half-covered by gums. Jack White on the cover of the last Rolling Stone is a great example:


If you can't see it, it's got to have some sort of a label in the medical lexicon (I couldn't bring myself to scroll through the Google Image Search), but I have officially dubbed them "mummy teeth." It has yet to be listed on Urban Dictionary, but I'll see what I can do about that. Dolphin teeth, you aren't the only classification for weird teeth anymore!

Anyways, by this time I was cracking up at myself, which I often do, and ended up having a good day on 4/20, opting to have some beer instead of smoking a bowl. Good times!