In the kitchen

I wish I knew the answer to the following:

Where is the best place to keep my tomatoes so that they don’t spoil?  It spoils in the fridge and even when I leave it outside.

Where is the best place to store my creamer, lemon pepper, garlic powder so that they don’t harden?  Lemon pepper is the worst.  That hardens after a week I swear.

I’m tired of having to throw away food items when I’m not even half way through them.

Maybe I should get help…..

The Manager of one of the companies in the group that I work with, came into my office today.

“Are you asked for,” he asked in that gentle way of his. 

At first I didn’t quite get it.  It’s such a quaint way of asking if I’m single.  I laughed and told him no.

“Is it in the works?  Are you in the process of being asked for,” he persisted.

I was a little taken aback.  I tend to veer from one end of the pendulum to the other.  So I’m either shockingly open or intensely private.  And at that particular moment I was thinking quite irritably that it was none of his darn business.

I smiled sweetly. 

“Oh I don’t know.  You can never tell you know.  Who knows what anyone is thinking?  It could indeed be in the works.”

For some unknown and irrational reason, I didn’t feel like disclosing to him my single status.  I felt quite smug about giving an ambiguous answer.   I don’t even understand why it mattered at the time.  Maybe it’s because I sensed before that it’s something he wanted to know and was just being my contrary self.

This evening while driving home, it hit me.  Damn!  I slapped my forehead.  What if he had someone in mind.  He’s an old enough man,  and I know he has several grown children.  I tried to remember the gist of the conversations we’ve had before where he discussed his children and specifically his sons.

I think tomorrow when I get in to the office I’ll continue the conversation he started.  Afterall, the girlie magazines (Cosmo, Elle, Essence etc) all advocate enlisting the help of the people around you if you’re serious about finding someone.

He has rather wide hips though.   I hope that wasn’t passed on to any of his single, eligible sons if there are any

Unpregnant cravings

I get these cravings.  And then I eat whatever I crave for at least a week straight.

So last week it was blueberry muffins.   Starting today it’s donuts.  I’ve been thinking about donuts all morning, so I know this will be the craving of the week.

No, I’m not pregnant, this is normal for me.

Last week, after listening to me whine for at least half hour that I need to leave a concert that we were attending, just to get the muffins, my girl friend exclaimed in exasperation, “Dam, I don’t want to be around when you’re pregnant.”

Lisa Hanna for Member of Parliament

(Jamaica Observer Cartoon -8/June/07) 

This government is something else. 

Just as I was mulling to myself on the possible reasons for rejecting all four candidates for the South East St. Ann seat when it would appear that at least two seemed eminently qualified, I heard Donald Buchanan bellowed during TVJ’s coverage of one of the many political rallies, that Lisa Hanna, Miss World 1993 “has the beauty” to represent the constituents.   I spluttered and almost drowned in my cherry juice.  What does beauty have to with political representation?

 

His statement only served to confirm my fears.  Obviously the government wasn’t overly concerned about serving the needs of the constituents.  The overwhelming need appeared to be getting a ‘brand name’ representative.

Now the above really isn’t an indictment against the beautiful Lisa Hanna.  I’d be the first to admit that she comes across as very intelligent and assertive, seems to have wonderful people skills and of course there’s no disputing that she’s articulate.   She’s definitely no bimbo!  Quite a fabulously exquisite package of beauty and intelligence.  I do not for a moment consider her to be lightweight (at least until I’m proven wrong) and I have no doubt that she has a great contribution to make.   

My grouse with the government’s decision is this.  If there are persons living in the constituency who are qualified to represent the people, why would they not chose from these rather than use someone who lives outside the constituency?  The former MP, the bubbly and very blond Ms. Aloun Assamba was kicked out when the constituents brimming with frustration banded together, put down their feet and decided that they need someone else to represent them.  According to them, she did a lousy job as a Member of Parliament and she hardly visited the area.  They’ve now decided that they want someone who resides in the area.

I don’t necessarily believe that in order to be a representative of the people one should be resident in the area.   However, I do see the advantage if this is the case.  I believe that if someone who is suitable for the job also resides in the area, the person should definitely be given preference.  The fact is, a resident who is also the political representative already has a vested interest in seeing the area developed and needed infrastructure put in place.  That person would also be already familiar with the critical issues that need to be addressed.

I have not heard the PNP indicate what integral qualities Miss Hanna brings to the table that is missing from the other candidates.   The party seemed determined to shove their choice on the people, seeming to forget who has the real power here.  Another evidence of the arrogance that comes from being in power too long. 

In the meantime the residents having experienced the frustration of having out of town representatives who they see only just before elections remain adamant that the next person to speak on their behalf should be domiciled in the area.

Let’s see how this one will play out.

Sailing to the Cays - Priceless!

Had some lovely pictures of the vessel but had to take them out when I realize that I had captured the vessel’s name.  I might want to blog about members of the crew and I don’t want to be sued

See the nice boats lined up at lime Cay?  Everytime I go sailing I’m amazed that so many people in Jamaica own boats. 

Dental woes

So the bubble of euphoria that I’ve been floating in after hearing some wonderful news was unceremoniously deflated after visiting my dentist this morning.

I noticed that there was some sensitivity on the upper left side of my mouth whenever I bit into anything and thought it would be a good idea to stem whatever the problem was before it developed into a full-blown toothache.

After subjecting myself to the obligatory prodding and poking the diagnosis was that I need to do two root canals.  Two!   When I considered the cost of doing a root canal and then capping it after, it was enough to bring me crashing down to earth.   Of course extraction is not an option.  The ecstatic feeling induced by the previous day’s news was quickly history.

I don’t understand.  I take care of my teeth as well as anyone else.  I brush, floss and whenever I remember I suffer for the 60 seconds recommended by the listerine ads.   So why am I not rewarded for my effort?    When I lamented that I might as well stop caring for my teeth, the dentist asked me to demonstrate my flossing method.  And she was satisfied that I was flossing properly when I did.

It didn’t help when she confirmed that some people were more prone to teeth decay than others.  Apparently my teeth are ’soft’.  According to her people in their thirties and over will suffer more tooth decays because there was more chlorine in the water then. 

I came home and decided to do some research on the matter.  After reading the following article online I’m wondering now, did she say chlorine or flouride?  Isn’t flouride suppose to be good for teeth?  I ran to the bathroom cupboard to confirm.  Sure enough, there it was on the toothpaste box, ‘Flouride Toothpaste’.  (Note to self: read some more on this later).

Fluoride is added to the water supply for dental hygiene and fluoridating drinking water is accepted as a benefit . Chlorine evaporates eventually but fluoride remains in the water and cooking, food processing, filtration, or digestion doesn’t remove fluoride and it acumulates in fat cells. Fluoride is a carcinogenic industrial waste and causes teeth to rot and crumble, as well as your bones and cause osteoporosis? Why is a toxic industrial waste passed off on the public as a nutrient with necessary health benefit?  

Well, whatever the troublesome ingredient is,  the problem was remedied a few years later with more salt in the water.  Damn!  Couldn’t my mother wait another decade to give birth?

Anyway, on a more cheerful note.  I went to saw a few performances from the graduating students of the Edna Manley College of the visual and performing arts.  It was great.  Apart from the wonderfully uplifting performances, the high point of my night was being told by a few young male students present, that with my recently, almost clean shaven head I looked like Miss Tanzania in the recently concluded Miss Universe - I was trying to copy and paste her picture but that’s not working.

I know the little whipper-snappers were lying through their teeth  but I still loved it.  Hehe. 

Romance, where art thou?

Is romance dead?  I had cause to ponder on this question tonight.

After indulging in the usual Sunday night activities in order to prepare myself for another dreary work week, you know, ensure that I’m clean shaven, check out what’s available to wear this week, I decided that I was going to pop by Tiger market for a bottle of cherry juice.   I had some letters to write.  One chiding a TVJ presenter for his unprofessional behavior with some guests on Morning time the previous week, plus another applying for a part-time teaching post, as well as a recommendation.  I thought about having some wine, but figured that if I wanted to complete all that I had to do before retiring to bed, I should err on the side of caution.  Even the tiniest bit of alcohol tend to put me to sleep.  And what better choice of drink is there than cherry juice?

 Every since I read IrieLatino’s comment on Spice’s blog stating cherry juice is his favourite,  it jolted my memory that it was indeed one of my favourite juices too and I haven’t been able to stop buying it since.

So anyway, went into Tigermarket and the store was filled with the sounds of some wonderful love songs.  There was ‘Reunited’ by Peaches and Herb, ‘You’re my lady’ by Freddie Jackson playing. 

Man, I was taken all the way back to when I was a child in the eighties.  That’s the era when love songs reigned supreme.  That was the era when if you’re a fete or a party and ‘Reasons’ by Earth, Wind & Fire started playing you had better find yourself a partner.

I walked around the store, singing happily and thinking wistfully that it has been a while since I swayed to a love song totally secured in someone’s arms.  I’ve been to sessions recently and I’ve ‘wuk up’ me waist and done some of the myriad of dancehall moves that currently prevail.  But when was the last time that I danced to a love song?

Do people even dance like that anymore?    Do people turn off the tv, dim the lights,  put in a cd and just dance cheek to cheek to love songs?  Or make out to the sound of Marvin Gaye soothing voice in the background, exhorting them to get some sexual healing?

I do like to act like the cynic at times but I’m such a hopeless romantic at heart.

On top of the world

I can see now why men don’t understand women.  They’re absolutely perplexing people!  They’re up, then they’re down.  Happy one minute, sad the next.  I don’t even get me.

So last night I was shedding copious tears at the thought of my best male friend moving to the States.  I felt so heart-broken.

Tonight, I’m feeling on top of the world.  Nothing has changed.  He’s still migrating.  Election is still due this year.  I’m still not getting the salary that I want.  I’m still without a boyfriend.  Yet, somehow everything is all right with my world again. 

Weird isn’t it?  Things aren’t just ok, I’m actually feeling great for no discernable reason.   Maybe I just needed a good cry to cleanse my soul.   Cryng can be cathartic afterall. 

I’m sad

 

I stopped by the supermarket on my way home this evening because I remembered that I wanted some tomato sauce.  I had planned on cooking some chilli.

But now I’m home I’m just too tired to bother.  Plus I’m a little sad.  Well make that plenty sad.  My best male friend advised me that he’s migrating in about four months.    Actually he’s getting married around that time in the States and won’t be returning to Jamaica.  I was quite devastated at the news.  I cried all last night.

Now it’s not like I didn’t expect this.  I just didn’t expect this now.  I totally expected him to return to Jamaica after the wedding, giving me a chance to get accustomed to the idea of him leaving in a few months/year to be with his wife.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m happy for him.  Thrilled actually because he’s such a wonderful person.  He’ll make a great husband and father.  I’ve already given him the ‘no cheating’ lecture.  I didn’t necessarily think it was needed but I know how easily men wilt in the face of temptation.

It’s selfish of me I know but I’m really not ready to be without my best friend, my brother, my insight into the perplexing world of men and how they think.

I need to stop crying.  I miss him already.

Paris to serve time (Not at the Hilton’s)

So Paris is going to jail.  Thank God the legal system in the States work in this instance.  There really ought not to be one law for the rich and one for the poor. 

But can you believe that  she thinks that she has been wronged?