Sunday, February 24, 2013

The Real Sheldon of Orange County


Now that the Royal Wedding and mingling with the malcontent students is over, I feel like I have nothing entertaining to spill.  I peruse your blogs wishing I had two or three quips to string together into something that resembles an amusing blog post.  But I have an excuse, my horoscope told me to wait. “There is something satisfying about a good rant, and you might let yourself go on and on, especially in writing. But don’t deliver this in writing to anyone, sit on it awhile. “



See, I have a note to the principal.

Last weekend, I drove from Phoenix to Sheldon and the Brit’s new hood in Orange County. No spotting of Lisa Vanderpump or Adrienne Maloof. Not that I, ummm know about those housewives or anything.   It’s an adorable two bedroom closet for a mere king’s ransom every month.  Rather than sunning and funning, Sheldon and I splurged and purged all their co-mingling crud.  It was a combination of his apartment, her storage unit and all the wedding gifts including an unassembled dinette set.  Sheldon was pretty handy and finished putting together the chairs because as a woman, she knows how to read the directions. The son in law had to conveniently work all weekend to avoid the pitching/organizing fray.  Mostly, it made everybody like cranky overtired toddlers who needed to be put down for naps.

When I arrived Friday night I parked in the designated permit only space, querying Sheldon who assured me I had permission from property management. Let’s just say when I wandered out Saturday morning with several unpacked “borrowed” items to take back to Phoenix, I wasn’t stunned to discover it had been towed away.  A mere $310 buckaroos later, my little Ford Focus was sprung from car jail.  

I love Southern Cali, so beautiful with soothing ocean waves and glorious flora. But it is filled with all those annoying athletic and fit vegans sipping their soy lattes. Fuckers.   It made me feel frumpy and lumpy, like someone who eats sticks of butter for snack time. Thank goodness the ritzy Starbucks has a wine and cheese happy hour to drown my sorrows.   I’m embracing it, so here’s a nice fatty meal.

Fettuccine with Scallops with Lemons
1 pound green
1 pound fettuccine
5 Tablespoons butter (yes five, feel it adhering to your thighs)
¼ cup fresh lemon juice, about 4 lemons
1 pound scallops
2 cloves garlic
Salt to taste

Cook green beans as 1-inch pieces. Cook pasta per directions. Sauté minced garlic in 1 tablespoon butter. Add scallops and cook for two minutes. Add beans and pasta. Simmer until scallops are opaque. Add lemon juice and remaining butter. Serve with parmesan cheese.  

The newlyweds are putting off babies for the time being. Instead, they have their rescue kitty, Awesome to fulfill their parental desires. It’s like a test run, we’ve all done that. “Getting a puppy is great training for kids”. Snort, right. Besides, we all know the second bedroom is for me to visit.  

You are welcome to pet me now. #youaremyslave

 P.S. I might try a new format or two. Perhaps random ridiculous one liners or a monthly What Not to Wear feature.  But always, always a recipe. Let me know what you think peeps.