A Survival Guide for the Domestically Challenged

An Addendum to my Last Post

Whew!  Feels so much nicer to touch type on a real keyboard then to do the 2-finger routine on a tablet.  I'm so glad my mom made me take typing in 9th grade.  I hated every minute of it, but am so glad she was so persistant about it.  Of course, I won't tell her that.  Ever. 

Anyway, what I wanted to add to my last post about being busy, is basically this - if you know you're going to be busy, the PRIORITIZE.  It's a simple word.  But very useful.  We are living beings which means we need fuel in the form of food in order to function.  It irritates the crap out of me when people say they're too busy to eat.  Then they're stupid.  That's like saying you're too busy to pee.  Let's see by a show of hands how many people are sooooo busy that they can't even pee.  Yeah.  Whatever.  So it's all about your priorities.  Like it makes sense that if your car runs out of gas, it doesn't go.  We always put gas in our cars.  Therefore we need to put food in our bodies.  

When I know I'm gearing up for a busy week, I take a few hours out of my Sunday to make some food options to put in my fridge so I don't have to think much about, "mmmm what sounds good today?"  I'm fucking BUSY, it doesn't MATTER what sounds good right now, I just need to eat SOMETHING!  I also try to make sure these "somethings" are reasonably healthy, yet hearty.  So on a Sunday I will turn on my tunes and chop to my heart's content.  I normally make a soup, a pasta or rice dish, and a salady thing.  And I'll eat this along with my boiled eggs, fruit and tuna for the week.  

No, this is not extrodinary culinary faire.  But it is necessary when you're too busy to think straight.  So don't judge me on my fucking cans of tuna.  

 

So here are some examples of little bits I'll cook that will keep nicely for a few days (I don't do all of these in one day, these are just examples, so calm down):

Minestrone Soup (on my website)

Pureed Carrot Soup with Orange (haven't gotten to it yet, but any purred veggie soup is good)

Tomato carrot soup (not sure if it's on there?)

Tortilla Soup (on my website)

Vegetable "fried" brown rice ( I don't like super fry it, just a little oil through it) or any Asian noodle and vegetable combination.

Orzo pasta salad (orzo is great because it's so teeny it doesn't seem to dry out like bigger cut pasta when kept in the fridge for a few days)

Chicken salad (on my website)

Chopped Salad

Lentil Sweet Potato salad

What's more, with the soups, I make a double batch and freeze them in little individual containers so they're ready to go whenever I run out of fresh stuff, or feel like something different.  

Portion everything you make into individual serving containers.  Makes life so much easier when you need to grab and go.

Get it?  So you might have to have some repeat meals, but at least you won't be gaining like 30 lbs eating McDs or peanut butter cookies.  Oh I shouldn't have said that.  A peanut butter cookie sounds SO GOOD right now!

 

When You're Really, Really Busy...

I'm typing this post on a tablet in bed.  Because I'm really busy.  And smug.   I feel like one of the Peanut kids typing with two fingers.  like Schroeder playing the piano.  Seriously, how genius was Charlie Brown?  

Ok already derailing.  And I hate this tablet.  I can't get into a typing rhythm.  Good thing I'm not ranting tonight.  Or at least not publicly.  

I wanted to talk to you today about eating when you're busy.  I've had a really busy month and after spending the first portion of that eating my feelings - which i normally found in a pizza box or Thai takeaway container, I decided to take control and give myself some fridge options, along with some tips to not flip out and randomly shave your head.  You know when you're so busy you don't even remembered if you actually showered the day before?Yeah. Here's some ideas that might help you stay sane:

 

1.  Eat your fucking breakfast! I make sure i give myself a good 15 mins of am breakfast eating time.  You need hour energy so stop being a martyr and saying you don't have time.  Make time! my favorite breakfast this month is toasted whole grain bread with avocado, canned tuna and tomatoes.  I'm seriously quite full for awhile after I eat this.

 

2.  Boil eggs.  If you like eggs, boil 4 - 6 at a time and keep them in your fridge.  Take one with you for a snack.  I keep a little container of salt and pepper in my bag to go with my eggs.  So tasty and fast.  for the perfect boiled egg see my recipe section.

 

3.  Canned tuna.  I grew up HATING tuna because my mom used to feed it to our cats when i was little.  But I've gotten over it, especially when I found tuna marinated in oil instead of water.  It's not dry like the stuff in water.  It makes me feel upmarket.  Like I am eating the good tuna.  I'm not a huge fan of canned food, but we're hanging on the edge here! Do the canned tuna.  Plus it's a good source of protein teamed up with a healthy fat source.  in other words, it will keep you going when you want to rip your boss's face off.  

 

4.  Blueberries! Oh little gems I love you so much....when you're in season and don't cost like a zillion bucks a punnet.  I bring blueberries with me to snack on just in case I feel like eating my weight in  chocolate.  They're sweet enough to make you feel like you've treated yourself.  Well, maybe not entirely, but you're so busy you won't know the difference.

 

Ok I'm hating this tablet!  This is not increasing productivity at all.  But.  I'm no quitter...

 

5.  Lavender oil.  Every night after a hard day I grab a glass of hard liquor and jump into a hot bath with lavender oil. You know...that awesome newage thing we call aromatherapy.  It totally works.  Sometimes I rub lavender oil into my temples if I need a super strong hit.  Do something to relax before you pass out.  You'll sleep better.

 

6.  Speaking of sleep, if you reeeaally want to sleep well get yourself a wheat pack.  Heat it in the microwave and snuggle the shit out of it.  Shane and I fight over ours.  Olive, not so much.  It has seriously changed my life.  

 

I have more, but I'm getting tired and this stupid tablet isn't helping me to type very well.  I hope these little ideas help.  Remember: this too shall pass.  You can do it!

 

 

Why People Cannot Drop By My House UNANNOUNCED.

Well hello.  I'm not even going to ask how we all are because I'm in a mood.  I'm feeling a bit touchy. To add to this I've just seen my Typepad account has been spammed with weird comments.  Ugh I hate technology some days.  

I am writing this to clarify an issue I have with living in New Zealand because everyone seems to think I'm a bit of a crotchety uptight old lady.  Part of that might be true.  But I have reasons for being crotchety and uptight.  I can't help being old.  It's in my soul.  

As I have mentioned previously, it is quite common for Kiwis to just "drop by" over the weekend if they want to catch up with friends, family, pets, whatever.  And I've gotten a lot of flack for being quite vocal about not liking it.  "But it's because people like you that they stop byyyyyy..."  That's great.  I'm happy to catch up with people.  IF I FUCKING KNOW ABOUT IT and have time to a) put on some clothes b) clean my tearstained face and blow my nose c) hide all my laundry in the closet and d) turn off the tv and open the curtains so I look like I'm actually doing something with my weekend.  I really don't think this is too much to ask.  

To better illustrate this, I have a concrete example to share to further demonstrate why people cannot drop by my house unannounced.  

A few weekends ago, Shane and I were having our usual lazy Sunday lay-in.  It's our one day where we don't get up early, and usually don't do much at all until after about noon.  I love Sundays for this very reason.  This particular Sunday, I could have done without.  So Shane thinks he hears something outside and ambles to the kitchen to have a look out the window.  And he's naked.  And he is looking out the window and calls to me that there is someone on a motorcycle outside our house.  And then I hear all sorts of shouting and swearing from Shane and a big OH. MY. GOD.  So I jump out of bed (sans clothes) to see what's going on.  

For whatever reason, our beloved dog Olive had decided to take a huge dump in the kitchen and Shane has stepped right in it.  Hence the ohmygods and fuck fuck fucks.  The whole house starts to smell of dog shit.  

And of course, it is just at this very moment, there is a knock on the door.  Shane and I look at eachother in absolute horror.  I starts hobbling towards the bathroom while I'm left to contemplate hiding, grabbing a robe or cleaning up this awful smelling dog poo.  

I decide to grab a robe.  And answer the door.  Because whoever is coming over unannounced is going to get a good whiff of why it is better to call before coming by.  It turned out to be one of Shane's long lost high school friends who he hasn't seen in like 10 years.  And it is here where they have their reunion, in a shit smelly kitchen with me, my hair standing up on top of my head, in a bathrobe, cleaning up my dog's accident.  He hasn't been back since.  

And I think I've proved by point.

The Kiwi: An Anthropological Generalization in Ten Bullet Points

Greetings Earthlings.  We know it's been awhile.  I have no excuse but complete and absolute aversion to this website.  I have no real reason why, everytime I sat down to write, or thought about writing, my brain would go "oh nooooo no no nooo no."  Like Phoebe from Friends, kinda.  But more drawn out.  

But I have been quite busy.  I've been busy quietly studying the inhabitants of this land I now call home. Not the Kiwi BIRD.  I don't know much about these birds because they're super endangered and they only come out at night and really only in highly protective prisons - but it's to protect them from us and ferrets and stoats and stuff.  I'm not sure if they realize they're held captive.

Anyway, today I'm talking about Kiwi humans.   I have been jotting many observations in a small notebook about these Kiwi people.  Actually in a small notebook located in my head.  I'm fairly certain these are all completely over-generalised and not super well thought out.  But they are just "off the cuff", so to speak.  So here we go.

1. Kiwis Can Fix Anything.  There is an analogy about using no. 8 wire.  I didn't even know what this was until our next door neighbors got locked out of their house and I witnessed my husband attach said wire to a long pipe, stick it through a window, around the key that was in the lock and unlock the FREAKING DOOR.  I seriously need to go to boy scouts just to even attempt to keep up.  They think I'm weird for not knowing how to light a fire.  Who lights fires in California?  The only fires I've ever been around are forrest fires and they're not as useful.  

2. Kiwi Guys Have Great Legs.  I know this because...

3. Kiwi Guys Love Short Shorts.  I'm not sure what it is, maybe it's all the rugby.  But I am obsessed with Kiwi Guys' Legs.  Yes, my husband knows this.  He's got them as well. Here, let me show you what I mean:

 

Ladies, meet the All Blacks rugby team.  I know these are professional rugby players and could seriously crush walnuts between those meaty thighs, but I'm serious.  All Kiwi guys have great legs.  Let's let the photo lead us to number 4:

4. New Zealand Has the Sexiest Rugby Team. Ever. 

5. Kiwis Think Vegas is the Coolest Place in the World. Muslims go to Mecca, Kiwis go to Vegas.  I've never met an entire nation who is so obsessed with the idea of going to Vegas.  Either that or I've just met a shit ton of like-minded people.  They even add "Vegas" into some of their more boring cities as a joke. "DannyVegas", "InverVegas" - Kiwis will know what I'm talking about.  

6. Kiwis Are Shitty Drivers. Ok, I come from LA, land of the shitty driver.  So I'm allowed to know one because I am one.  The difference between shitty LA driving and shitty Kiwi driving is that Kiwis never exactly have a plan as to where they are going so they are never on that mission Angelenos are on.  Like when you have to merge from the 110 to the 101 and you know you have like 20 seconds before you miss it and you have to basically hold your breath and pray that whoever you cut off is going to be alert enough to slam on the breaks because if you don't you'll be stuck in traffic for another hour until you can turn around and try it all again.  (breathe).  Yeah.  Kiwis aren't like that.  This is because Kiwis aren't ever in a hurry.  Which leads me to #7:

7. Kiwis Are Mellow. I've realised that I am a highly strung person.  I'd caught glimpses of this revelation in LA before, but I never really truly noticed the extent because I was surrounded by a bunch of other high-strung people.  Moving out here has made me a massive pimple on the surface of very smooth skin.  Gross, I know.  Sorry, it was the only analogy I could think of.  And Kiwis really don't tolerate highly strung people when they get really highly strung.  Like when I get frustrated and turn all American on some poor person I can see their eyes slowly fade away.  It's like they just turn off to it completely.  I can imagine they only hear "blah blah blah blahblahblahhhhhhhblahablahblahblabhablhablahblaabohasllsh".  I'm taking yoga now to become one of them.  It's been really hard to not PLAN my entire day.  No one really plans things here.  You want to hang out with someone, you rock up to their house and see if they're home.  If they are, awesome.  If not, oh well.  I come from a culture that is basically born with a smartphone calendar app planted in their brains.  Even as kids, our parents set up play dates.  Everything is scheduled.  It's really weird to just...not.  I have yet to get used to visitors coming by unannounced.  Everyone has told me to take it as a compliment, because it's obvious people like me if they're stopping by.  It just always seems to be at a bad time.  Like, I'm walking around naked because I haven't decided what to wear, or the dog just shat in the dining room and the whole house has permated with the god-awful smell of dog poo.  It's at these moments the doorbell will ring.  I guess the good thing is that Kiwis really don't judge you on the state of your house, or me without makeup on (I draw the line with clothes though - I don't want any friend to judge me without clothes on!).  So, basically, I'm adjusting to this.

8. Kiwis are the Friendliest People you will Ever Meet. I guess #7 makes perfect sense.  Obviously Kiwis are friendly.  The NZ passport has access to the most countries in the world without an entry visa - therefore they are the highest price on the black market.  Honestly!  Kiwis travel a lot because, let's face it, this is a pretty small island with not too many people on it, so most young Kiwis are encouraged to go explore.  Everyone loves a Kiwi.  It's just fact.  PLUS because they travel so much, they are very open to travelers in their own land.  A Kiwi will go out of his/her way for any tourist who asked him/her a question or has an issue.  They are the type of people where honesty boxes are still about and a man's word is still worth something.  The problem is that Kiwis can be really naive.  I worry for Kiwis who come to LA.  People will eat them alive.  I want to protect them from all that is bad.  They need to stay in Hobbiton and be safe from the evils of this world.  

9. Kiwis are Friendly...Until They Enter a Grocery Store. Ok, I'm going to totally contradict myself now and say that Kiwis are quite possibly the meanest people upon entering a grocery store.  It's so weird.  I've literally been run down by old ladies on a mission to get their prune juice.  And if you make eye contact with fellow shoppers and smile, they look at you like you aren't wearing any clothes.  Maybe it's because I shop wearing no clothes.  Kidding.  Sorry, dumb joke.  Maybe that's why they glare at me.  For awhile I thought it was just me and they could sense my American-ness.  See, I'm the dead opposite - while being slightly untrusting of people on the street, I become Miss America in the Question and Answer section as soon as I enter a the automatic doors of a grocery store - my teeth even make that "ting" sound as I smile.  No one wants anything to do with it here, except for the guy who works the seafood counter.  I've had many nice chats with him.  He's the only saving grace to my shopping trips.  My husband has backed me up on this.  Apprently, Kiwis get a bit aggro when food shopping, he believes, because they see it as a chore they don't want to do.  I guess in LA, people escape to the magical world of Trader Joes and Whole Foods because it's our only connection with the earth, the land.  Out here it's basically in our faces, so why would people want to waste their time in a grocery store?  So I get it.  But it's still weird.  

10. Kiwis Talk About the Weather.  A LOT.  Every single freaking day, at least 5 people will say some comment about the day's weather.  I too, have come to make comments about the weather.  Because the weather changes every 8 minutes.  It's true.  I guess having "weather" is new to me.  Angelenos freak out if it rains for half a day.  I have to keep telling myself, "It's green here because it rains.  It's pretty because it rains." - it's my new mantra.  Over and over and over again.  No day is ever the same as the next.  It's the Witman's Sampler of weather.  Thanks, Forest Gump, now I get it.  So, due to this constant change of climate and percipitation, it gives people lots to talk about.  Unfortunately, it's given me a lot to complain about.  However, a beautiful day is covetted by all - never taken for granted as they are in LA.  

 

So there you have it.  These are my top ten observations in my first year as a wannabe Kiwi.  Despite the cultural adjustments I've had to make and the frustration that goes along with that, New Zealand is a truly beautiful and amazing place to live.  

If you are reading this, Department of Immigration, I hope you will factor this in to my residence application.

 

Shut. The F. UP.

Hey peeps, I know it's been like a month, and I know I owe you a goodie, but I have to share this with you because I am so FREAKING jealous this little guy didn't wander into my house and park up on my couch:

Read the story:

http://www.nzherald.co.nz/nz/news/image.cfm?c_id=1&gal_objectid=10772980&gallery_id=123076#8395358

I'm seriously breathing in and flapping right now I'm so happy!  

 

I PROMISE I'll write something for real.  Soon.  Consider this fashionably late :)

Watch Me Cook on eHow.com !

Hey Chickadees!  Happy Halloween for those of you on the other side of the International Date Line!  It's fun to be smug and say that Halloween was sooooo yesterday.  Well, over here in New Zealand anyways :)

I did some cooking vids for ehow.com - it's a bit hard to find me, so if you want to see what I did search "Bonnie Muirhead" on their site and all of my videos should pop up.  I hate to break it to you, but I pretty much demo-ed all salady stuff.  Check them out if you feel like it!  I won't be - I HATE watching myself on tv.  Or the internet.  Or anything that shows me walking and talking in an animated fashion.  But I hope you like them.  

A little plug for ehow.com - they're pretty awesome.  They've got all sorts of how-to videos in their library from food to gardening to building stuff.  It's geared for those "visual learners" out there - who would rather watch and listen as opposed to read.  Go check them (and me!) out!

 

Tales of Charitable Woes

Hi friends.  Absence makes the heart grow fonder, does it not? Eh.  I feel that sentiment is overrated.  

Well, since my last post stirred up so many funny stories (they're funny now because they're in the past - isn't it so great that the shittiest day can yield a few future chuckles? It's like those savings bonds your parents' friends would buy you - when you think you're getting $50...ah silly, it's $50 in like 30 years once it's matured (I'm going to double parenthesis here just to say I f-ing HATE those savings bonds!  They are a terrible idea for a kid's present.  So don't do it.  Get itunes gift cards.  Just saying) - anyway so shitty days mature into funny stories later - the better type of savings bond. Oh. Forgot. One more ).

So...

It takes a village to raise an idiot.  And I'm fairly certain the city of Agoura Hills did well by me in that aspect.  Remember when I mentioned I bought a $90 comforter for a homeless guy?  Oh yes.  

Let's cut back to a few years ago...a cold fall evening in Playa Del Rey (for those of you not familiar with Southern California just think Santa Monica, just a bit quieter).  I had left work early because I was sick as a dog and dragged my nearly lifeless body to my local CVS to buy anything that might knock me unconscious for the night.  

In typical Bonnie fashion, a homeless dude approaches me - apparently I have "total idiot" written on my forhead - he doesn't ask for the usual dollar or $5.  No.  He tells me he has diabetes and his feet are freezing, and that Mervyn's has blankets on sale.  Oh. No.  He got me with the feet thing.  I don't know a lot about diabetes but I know it has something to do with feet - or doctors are constantly checking diabetic feet.  Man.  The little crazy person in my brain starts telling me, "well if I had diabetes and was homeless I'd surely hope someone would buy me a blanket... "  

...

I bide some time by telling him I will get him something once I get my stuff from the pharmacy.  

Once in I start looking for an emergency exit or maybe an escape slide so I can quickly sneak away and get to my car so I don't have to actually deal with this.  Nothing.  One way in, one way out.  Damn.

I drag myself outside with a sigh and have my new homeless friend, Gio, walk with me down the road to Mervyn's.  After talking to him for about a minute I realize he's not quite right in the head.  Which made me feel even worse.  I figure $20 will be money well spent to help this poor unfortunate guy out for a few months. 

Ha. (cue Village Idiot.  ie. ME).

But homeboy is SMART.

He gets me into the "blanket aisle" and by blanket I mean full bedding.  And he heads right to  a nice microsuede comforter and takes it off the shelf.  I look at the tag and it says $180 and my eyes would have bugged out of my head had they not been swimming in mucus.  Yeah, I was THAT pretty.  I try to protest that I can't possibly afford that and he cuts me off and says, "no but it's half off - it's half OFF!"  

See, if someone had been watching an instant replay of these events, they would have been able to have pinpointed the problem - Gio, my homeless "friend?" had managed to lure me into the store.  I should have just thrown $5 at him while running past in order to escape the future predicament.  But, I had no such referee watching my life, or if I did he certainly didn't see to come tap me on the shoulder and shake his head "nooooooo".  

So cut back to me standing with a crazy diabetic homeless guy in a very quiet bedding aisle of Mervyn's and him screaming that his comforter of choice is half off.  Ninety dollars.  I have to actually type those words instead of numbers because that's how I was repeating this in my head.  Niiiiiiinety dooooooooolllars.  

He won.  

There was no way I could walk out of the store and escape to my car and leave a poor alledgedly diabetic crazy homeless dude standing in Mervyn's with a comforter in his arms.  Why, you ask?  Because I'm an idiot.  A mushy gushy hearted idiot.

So I grab the comforter and take it over to the check out.  I almost wept as I handed over my credit card that was already too close to it's limit and was wracking my brain how I'd ever pay it off.  

We head out together, my homeless dude and me, and I happen to realize I'm still carting the comforter in my arms - and this thing was heavy.  Gio is telling me all about the name Bonnie - apparently he studied...something...and knew about the origin of names.  I politely give him his comforter and tell him I'm very sick and need to get home.  Then he changes the subject while still walking with me - telling me about some people who "let me stay the night with them".

 Oh god.  This isn't over! I've just thrown $90 at a problem that still lingers!  He wants to come home with me!  I'm totally going to be found face down in a ditch. Find a solution.  Find a solution.

Cue Village Idiot.

I hand him my card and tell him to call me if he needs anything.  What homeless person has a phone, right?  Oh I'm so smug with myself!  I managed to avoid bringing Gio back to my apartment and also managed to avoid looking like a total asshole.  

I drove home, took enough over-the-counters to drug a horse and passed out, forgetting all about Gio and his comforter.

Until a week later....

I get a message on my phone from Gio.  It said, and I quote,

"Hi, it's Gio.  I wanted to see how you are doing.  I'm sorry I haven't called - I've been really busy."

I swear to the high heavens a crazy diabetic homeless man somehow obtained a phone only to call me and....blow me OFF?!  

I'll end it there to leave you with that.  Any villages seeking an idiot?  As you can see, I'm quite good at the job. 

Well I'll Be!

So I guess the squeaky wheel gets the grease!  Thank you to those of you who left me some extremely nice comments.  I know it must seem silly to pout about the seemingly empty auditorium with a cricket chirping I sometimes feel after I've poured my life out onto this world we call cyberspace.  But it's just that:  I share my complete self in here.  You get to see ME:  The good, the bad, the gross - everything (let's play a drinking game: everytime I use a colon take a drink).  I mean, I told you all I pooped in a tupperware container for god's sake!  If that isn't honesty then I don't know what is.  I mean, I could be lying.  You'd never really know.  But I hope those of you who read this do believe it's (sadly) quite real.  Welcome to my life.  I'm so happy to share my trials and struggles and happy achievements with you.  So it's nice to know there is a collective "you". 

Please let the record state: I am quite a good speller.  But there is no spell check on TypePad and I am a very fast typer...thank you, Mom, for making me take keyboarding in 9th grade; (I'll count a semi-colon as drink-worthy) as much as a bitched about it, you were right...and as I get excited I don't always check my letters as carefully as I should.  So thanks for my spelling corrections.  I just hope you don't hold that against me.

I don't have anything particularly funny or embarrassing to say tonight: just a simple thank you to those of you who come to visit me here every once in awhile.  Knowing that I've put a smile on your face or a chuckle in your day makes this completely worthwhile.  

Kisses and hugs :)

(are you drunk yet?  Here: one more for the road.  You're welcome.)

My Hatred of Confrontations with the Dreaded Clipboard People

Hi friends.  Or should I say friend.  I don't think many people read this.  I know of one.  Because he tells me he reads it and gives me feedback on every single post.  Thanks Olivier.  If I actually knew you I'd say you were my new best friend :)  So hello to you, and thanks for tuning in.  

I'm kind of a nervous person at times.  Well more like a neurotic nervous person, or nervous neurotic person.  Whichever order you choose, I am IT.  So I really really hate it when my days get disrupted by things I haven't planned for.  Which is why going to the grocery store has become a huge source of anxiety for me.  See, we all have to eat.  And I believe in eating well, so I believe in getting groceries quite often.  Therefore I have to actually go to the store and purchase them.  

This was all well and good until the introduction of the dreaded clipboard people.  This is what I call them:  the dreaded clipboard people.  Even as I type this my palms are starting to sweat and I'm getting fidgety.  Oh the dreaded clipboard people.  Why must you invade my space and disrupt my routine???  If you aren't familiar with the clipboard people, you will be able to recognize them because:

a) they carry clipboards,

b) they stand outside the doors at shops such as grocery stores or your Targets and Walmarts and the like, and

c) they are always REALLY excited to talk to you (I don't think I've even ever encountered a Jahova's Witness that was more excited than the clipboard people).

What do they want?  Your money.  But they're quite crafty and I find almost evil.  They don't want your spare change or a couple bucks like a homeless dude on the side of the road or the Salvation Army people with the bells at Christmas.  No.  They want like bank account access or a credit card number.  They scoff at the $5 you might present sheepishly and proclaim, "this is all I have".  They accuse you of not caring about gay rights, women's rights, the environment, child welfare - you name it - if you don't leave your inheritance to them and their cause you are a terrible terrible person.   

As you read this you might think, Gee Bonnie, you do sound rather cynical and horrible about these wonderful people who are just trying to make a difference in the way society works.  I used to be like you.  I used to be that way too.  I used to discuss the issues and excitedly become willing to give my money to Green Peace and to to Prop 8 and women's rights and the like.  Yes, I'm liberal.  Yes, I want change!  Yes I will give you $10!  

....

Oh, that's not enough you say?  I'm sorry, did I hear you right? You want $88? in order to snub the politicians who are opposed to Prop 8?  Are you out of your FREAKING MIND?  Oh, I'm sorry, you need my bank details to debit $20 a month for Green Peace?  And there's no way I can cancel this transaction unless I change my bank account number?  WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?

See, I did give an exorbitant amount of money to Prop 8.  And you know what happened?  The Supreme Court overturned it anyway.  Even before that, I gave some more money to one clipboard guy and then got hassled by another clipboard guy the next day who did not believe me I had JUST donated to the same freaking cause! And I did give a monthly donation to Green Peace.  And found there literally was no way to stop the debiting so I was finally forced to change my debit card.  

Then I had an evil clipboard guy accuse me of being cheap when I told him I was a starving actor and had literally $20 for the rest of the week to live on and was actually willing to give $5 of that to him if he'd leave me alone.  And THEN I still filled out his dumb petition for whatever cause he was representing and the bastard CALLED ME and asked me out on a DATE!  (this seriously happened.)

So after a few of these incidences I got a little nervous every time I'd go to the grocery store.  And if I saw the dreaded clipboard people, I would beeline for the other entrance.  Or I got clever and would pull the "fake cell phone call" maneuver just to get in and out of a place I had to visit.  

But sometimes I would get caught off guard.  Sometimes I'd think I was strong enough to actually say "N-O" or walk right past them.  I mean, I know I'm liberal.  And I vote liberal.  That should be enough right?  Or giving like $5 should be enough right?  

It got so bad if I saw them standing there I'd just get out some cash and thrust it into their hands before they could even say anything and say rather quickly "thisisallIhave!" and walk away.  I even freaked out on some little kids selling candy outside Bristol Farms (along side a clipboard guy).  So I gave $10 to each - the clipboard guy and the kids.  There were 2 little kids and the one kid said he needed money too because they were selling candy separately, so I screamed at him these words:

The world is a competitive place and if you want to succeed you'd better move yourself to another spot if you want to win!!!!!

Wow.  

I have just turned into an old croan.  I seriously should have had a walking stick and a black cloak with huge spit balls spraying this terrified child.  

But this is what it's become!  Why must I be pestered all the time to donate money?  And then be made to feel like I'm not generous.  And I'm MISS GENEROUS.  My friend's ipod got stolen.  So I bought her a new one as a surprise and had it sent to her house.  I bought a homeless crazy guy a $90 blanket because he had diabetes and was freezing.  I also gave him my number which was a really bad idea and he kept calling me to tell me where he was and - get this - to APOLOGIZE for not keeping in contact too often.  So I'm definitely not stingy.  And plus, it's not like I have tons- o-money anyway.  Newsflash:  I didn't win Hell's Kitchen.  So I don't have $250K in my back pocket.  

But I guess the thing that really gets me mad is that I can't just say NO and be ok with a person thinking I'm selfish or stingy or whathaveyou.  Shane tried to do some cognitive behavioral therapy on me and attempted to forcibly make me walk past the dreaded clipboard people and just keep walking.  

It didn't go too well.  

I think some days I just went back to the car and refused to go inside the store.  

They don't have dreaded clipboard people in New Zealand.  I feel safe here.  

 

Spring is Upon Us!

I'm planting my summer veggie garden today.  I've never been one with a super green thumb.  So this might be a bit harder than I'm actually thinking.  I bought my weight in seeds so I have everything from Tuscan Kale to heirloom tomatoes to broccolini to every herb imaginable!  

I don't even know where I'm going to put all these plants.  

Will check in later and tell you how it all went!  Can't wait for good weather!