Tag Archives: recipes

I carbed out… sowwwy!

If anyone was keeping track you might have guessed that my 30 day paleo challenge is over and I have been busy stuffing my face with all the carbs in sight, so I haven’t had time to blog plus my hands were dirty with donut jelly. Ain’t nobody got time to be havin’ sticky keys cause they dint wash they hands. Ya feels me!? 

So I was looking through some photos on my phone so that I could post pictures of my favorite paleo recipes, when I found this:

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That my friends is a selfie of me smelling flowers at a bar on a Saturday night. Flowers that weren’t even mine, mind you. Remember how pissed I was that Gigi got what I thought should have been my flowers? This is them, and now I understand why he gave them to her instead of me. This is the kind of thing you can look forward to now that I’m back on the booze train.

Anyway, here is one of my favorite recipes that I tried during the challenge.  This one I found on paleoplan.com

Garlic chicken, red pepper, and mushroom sauce on a bed of asparagus 

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Ingredients:

  • 1 lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts, diced
  • 2 Tbs olive oil, divided
  • 1/2 tsp sea salt (optional)
  • 1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
  • 1/2 tsp chili powder
  • 1 clove garlic, minced
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 8-10 white button or cremini mushrooms, sliced
  • 2 red bell peppers, sliced
  • 1/3 cup coconut milk

Instructions:

  1. Marinate chicken in 1 Tbs olive oil, sea salt (optional), black pepper, chili powder and garlic. Refrigerate for 1 hour.
  2. Shortly before meal time, heat 2 medium skillets over medium-high heat.
  3. In one, saute marinated chicken until browned and almost fully cooked.
  4. Heat 1 Tbs olive (or coconut) oil in the other skillet. Add onion and saute for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add mushrooms and continue to cook until tender.
  5. Add red pepper, coconut milk and browned chicken and stir. Cook for an additional 5-10 minutes, or until the chicken is completely done.

I made mine into a smaller portion and loaded it on top of some boiled asparagus annnnd it was delicious! Now, please excuse me while I help myself to a package of E.L. Fudge cookies. NOM!

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And we’ll tell our children we met in front of the copy machine.

I’m back.  For good.  Totes.

I haven’t said much about my new job because up until today it was eh.  I came home every night exhausted and have had a mini-panic attack every morning on my way there.  There’s just so many numbers, I want to die.  Until yesterday, when things got interesting.

I noticed every time I went in for an interview there was this one guy who was pretty young but somehow had a big wig office.  It didn’t make sense.  Because in a company like this it’s all about loyalty and how long you’ve been there.  My boss has been there 40 years and this youngin’ has the same level of authority.  He is in a different department (but still only down the hall) so we were never formally introduced, but I think he’s hot, of course.  Plus he’s the only person on our floor even close to my age so why not make it interesting and have a work crush.

Today I walked in like any other day, had a meltdown at my desk, cried on top of my mound of paperwork, sucked it up and went on with my day.  I went to the copy machine to print out some emails when low and behold there stood big wig youngin’.  He grabbed his papers, glanced at me, walked around the corner, and then came back.  He. Came. Back.

“Hi are you the new girl over there? I’m Mike Hamanannananan.” And he shook my hand, I said uhh yep I’m Gizzy.  Then he made small talk about the school I went to and how he heard from “Mike” I was looking for a place up north and how he could be of some assistance because he just got a place up north and all that jazz.  I was kind of freaking out because durr a hot successful guy is talking to me and my mind has been mushed on college guys for the last 47 years.  I looked like a tard and went back to my desk.

I didn’t really think much of this little encounter until later on in the day when I was mulling around trying to look busy and the CFO approached me.  It went something like so:

CFO: Gizzzyyyyy… I’ve been wanting to talk to you, you know I know you’re looking for a place up north and my son just moved up there so if you needed some help he said he would be more than willing to show you the ropes and help you find a place.  Really just email me and let me know and this is how I could introduce you guys.

*CFO sees a light go off in Gizzy’s head as it appears to Gizzy that Mike is the CFO’s son, “Mike” is Mike senior, THAT’S how he got the big wig job, THAT’S how he already knows everything about me, and Dad is being matchmaker and Dad approves.

I didn’t tell CFO that I had already spoken to Mike and he is a big boy and came up and introduced himself on his own.  I figured I would just roll with the flow.  I mean IDK it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to try and date a hot successful guy whose dad just happens to be the CFO at this big name company, right?  I just see where things are starting to line up and I’m ok with it.

I don’t know if Mike and CFO are just being nice and trying to help out a girl who is new to town or if Mike is just thankful to see someone young in the office.  I can’t imagine the business world with all these old fogies gets you a lot of dates/ass so I’m trying to figure out if I’m about to get taken advantage of or look like a huge fool.  You never know in these big cities, nice=corrupt round hurr.

I’m also running for Mayor.  So errybody vote for me!

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Who wants a divorce!

Anotha day, anotha dolla.  Here we are, smack dab in the middle of engagement season, then in the spring comes wedding season.  The real question is, when is divorce season?

Tuesday night I got a delightful little facebook chat from one of my old college flames.  I say delightful because he totally screwed me over but college wouldn’t have been the same without him.   We’ll call him Snatch.

I met Snatch at the beginning of my sophomore year, we had math class together and I thought he was H-O-T hot!  Facebook had been around for 2 days, it was back when there was a section to list your classes and you could click on the class and see who was in it.  So awesome (you hear that Mark Zuckerberg?!) Naturally, I facebook crept until I found out who math class guy was, discovered he was in a fraternity, and blabbed about this guy until my roommate finally found a connection for us to get into one of the frat’s parties that coming weekend.  As soon as we got to the fraternity we told our insider what was up, he took me directly to where Snatch was working, he was on sober patrol working the door.  Snatch recognized me from math class and asked for my number so he could call me when he got off, and he did.  The rest is pretty much history, we dated off and on for the next 4 years, until I went on a spring break cruise to the Bahamas and randomly met Snatch’s girlfriend who went to a different school.  It was one of those, “You go to SHIT U? My boyfriend goes to SHIT U and is a Booger Chi!” “OHHH MINE TOO!” “What’s your boyfriend’s name?” “Snatch Ass.” “Hmm…Mine too.”  I didn’t hate Snatch for long though, we ended up becoming really good friends after I realized being a two timer was the least of his problems and I was better off without him, until he started dating his now fiance, who we also went to college with.  She knows mine and Snatch’s history and has basically forbid him to speak to me.  She nearly had a conniption last year when Snoop-Linus and I stayed at Snatch’s apartment, I mean did she really think we were going to just have a big Gizzy gang bang?

Anyway, Snatch facebook chatted me to see what was up.  One thing led to another and we started reminiscing about the good ol’ college days, then Snatch starts talking about my boobs and how excited he is for me to move to the city, totes inappropriate.

Is it just me or are guys these days proposing just for funsies? Clearly he doesn’t love his fiance that much or else he wouldn’t be reminiscing about an old college flame’s boobs? When I stayed at his apartment with Snoop-Linus they were only dating, but he told me he would probably end up proposing because he was too chicken shit to break up with her because on St. Patty’s day she through a half gallon of vodka at him.   I’d dump her for being a wasteful little cunty.  Hrmph.. all that un-drank vodka, ruined on the floor.

The next day, my mom’s best friend gave me the name and number of her “so cute stepson” who lives in the city that I need to “hook up with so he can show me around,” before I could even act on this, the guy had already added me to facebook.  What do I see when I look at his page? Married. W.T.F!!!!!

Is it just me or is it against some vows to be adding hot girls (clearly, that’s me, baha) to facebook so you can hang out later? My mom’s friend made it seem like he was single, which he clearly is not, and gets you a strike in my book.

What’s a single girl to do!? I need you guys to help snap me out of this funk.

I went to my friend’s tonight to see her new house and her baby before I move to the city.  I could hear myself droning on about how everyone is engaged, married, or in a relationship and since I am single I can’t hang out with anyone who is married or in a relationship because I am the 3rd wheel, and that makes me more miserable then washing out PIMP’s.  She just nodded, and told me she was pregnant and getting a mini-van.

I just don’t know what to do.  I love married people as much as the next guy, but I am surrounded by them.  And no offense to all you marrieds, but how is watching everyone else be married and spitting out kids every 2 seconds supposed to help me meet a guy?

For a while I thought this particular friend didn’t want to be friends anymore because I am single.  She’s all settled down with her hubs, baby, and dogs, in her white picket fence house and only hangs out with other marrieds who have kids and all that biz can’t be tainted when the single wench comes to visit in her hooker boots and v-neck sweater dress, it’ll get the neighbors talking. I won’t lie, I’m nervous to move to the big city but I will be thankful to be around my own kind, the singles.

I’m pretty sure all my taken friends feel sorry for me, I got 3 different invites to be a “tag along” on New Years Eve.  “Come to dinner with us!” “Come over and drink boxed wine!” “Come to this party! There will be cute guys!” Thanks, but no thanks, I’m not a 3rd wheel charity case and I’d rather gorge on chocolate and cry into my pillow, mmkay?

*Side note – A commercial just came on that DISH is getting rid of E! on January first.  What the fuck!!?? My life is over.  I don’t get bravo, I don’t get E!, seriously what the fuck?*

Anyway, my life sucks.  What’s new?

After I gave myself the perfect manicure on NYE I decided to drive to the big city the next day to look at some apartments/attend another big city butts game with Anth Saturday night.

Don’t worry! It was just him and I, no fancy faux fur phonies to impress this time.  #1 Anth wasn’t impressed that I brought the foam fingers along for the fun time and gave him a lecture about how he didn’t use his last time but that foam finger was willing to give him a 2nd chance because there’s nothing like cozying up by a warm fire with the one you love on a cold winter night.   Then I got a return lecture about how I will be single for a long long time if I continue to act like inanimate objects have feelings and personalities.   I mean, they do.  So I don’t know what his problem is.

We got all geared up to head out in the -20 weather for the game and made a pit-stop at a gas station.   I complained the entire 5 minute ride to the gas station about how I was so hungry I could feel my stomach eating itself.  For reals, it was starting to cave in, I saw it happen.  I just couldn’t wait for the delicious hot dogs and beer at the game, so I got some chili cheese fritos and peanut butter m&m’s to tide myself over.  Anth’s pumping gas while I’m mowing down on the fritos (this is so detailed so that you can paint the perfect picture of what is about to happen in your head) Anth gets in the car and is taking a drink from his gatorade when I decided I had to have the m&m’s right that second!! NOM NOM NOM.  I don’t hold anything back, I ripped into the bag of m&m’s and they went flying all over the car. It was literally raining peanut butter m&m’s.  Like really, not 1 m&m was left in the bag.  Anth just sat there in complete disarray of what had just happened and watched half of the bag of m&m’s fall in his air vent while I sat there wide eyed with my empty m&m bag.  Honestly, I was more upset that there were about 30 less m&m’s for me to eat.  Yeah, I picked every last one of them up and ate them.  Call me gross, I don’t care.  But those m&m’s were $3 and tough times call for tough measures.  Anth got pissed and started spouting off about how he thinks I might actually be retarded because how could I do such a thing!? Of course when summer comes he’s going to get a nice chocolate drizzle on his penny loafers but I’ll be long gone when that happens.

The game was good, the big city butts got over 100 points again, so I was happy that I got a free big mac to go with my post game bottle of wine.  All is right with the world, except that I’m still homeless and I start my new job in the big city in 16 days.  Eff.

But hey, Happy 2011 errybody!

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I’m getting my OWN drunk monkey

Remember when you guys all laughed at me for posting pictures of drunken monkeys because, “OH THAT GIZZY, SUCH A WILD IMAGINATION SHE HAS.  DRUNK MONKEYS HAAAAA!”

I fly out to St. Kitz tomorrow to purchase my very own drunk monkey.  Thank you, and have a nice day.

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Deer Me

Happy Monday everyone! How excited are we to start another week of H-E-double-hockey-sticks? I need some real pointers on how to go about getting as much money for my personal belongings in the shortest amount of time.  Ebay is out of the question because I don’t have 25 days to wait to get $10 for my one Coach purse.  I’m talking 10k take all of the contents of my bedroom and storage so I can move the fuck out of my parents house and never look back.  I love my family dearly, but good god.

Last week I walked in from work at 8pm after working a 12 hour day, (when my roommate (mom) works 6 hour days and stepdad doesn’t even work, how the fuck we have nice things and can pay for the house and the cars on my moms whopping 30 hours a week is beyond me,) and stepdad was sitting in “his” chair (actually a chair I bought for my dad the Christmas before my parents were divorced)  holding pair of deer antlers.  Not doing anything with them.  Just sitting there holding them in his lap like a fucking weirdo.

So I’m in the kitchen making a pb&j for dinner and he starts cackling at the Colbert report and pokes himself in the stomach with the antlers.  Then he throws them on the ground and decides he hates the antlers and cusses at them, because now they’re “bastard antlers from a bastard deer.”

The following day I get home at 7:30, walk through the garage and see the infamous antlers sitting on his workbench, painted brown.  So I walk in and he’s sitting in “his” chair and I make the comment that I guess he must’ve forgiven the antlers and he goes off on a tangent about how he thinks he might be getting gangrene of the stomach from the poke he got the night before. Really, this is what I deal with daily.  I tell him he should probably get that checked out because it would be a shame if they had to go and cut out his midriff and reconnect his arms so they’re coming out of his legs.  He agreed and I went upstairs for some peace and quiet (me laying in bed with my pillow over my head.)

The next thing I know I hear him come up the stairs and go into my bathroom.  Now, I am fully aware it is his house and he pays the mortgage and he can go in whatever room he wants and do whatever he wants, but he has his own full bathroom so why in gods name is he in mine? He had to pass by his bathroom in order to come upstairs to get to mine, so it’s not like it’s more convenient.  And in the 11 years we have lived in this house I have not once seen him step foot in that bathroom.  I could hear a lot of banging and scrubbing sounds going on so I left my door open so I could see wtf was going on when he came out.

He walked out with a bucket and took it downstairs so I conned Ella into looking in the bucket and telling me what she saw. Deer antlers.  Multiple.  Then I made her go ask him what he was doing with all of those antlers in my bathroom.  Oh, giving them a bath.  Of course, why didn’t I think of that?  I asked why he had to use my bathroom to bathe his pets, he said, and I quote, “Because they still had some brain attached to them and I don’t want any deer brain in my shower.  Like I do? I mean it’s bad enough that it’s my bathroom he used to do this, and the only part of my body that touches the bathtub is my feet.  But, I share a bathroom with Ella and she actually takes baths and rubs her bare face on the tub.  So hopefully he is prepared to console his 6 year old daughter when she comes home from school crying because the other kids had a hay-day picking deer brain our of her nice clean hair.

I’m still not sure how to go about tackling this.  I’ve worn flip flops in the shower every day since The Bath to avoid any brain-borne diseases I could catch.  But what I’m really scared of is drying my feet off and having a little chunk of brain stuck between my toes.  And that is exactly why I need to move out, yesterday.  No person should ever have to be scared of getting pieces of brain stuck between their toes.  Like, ever in their whole life.

On top of brain toe jam, I have Ella running in my room every 5 seconds with her new MP3 player begging me to listen to Bubby’s new song.  I just can’t take it.  I need some silence so that if I want to lay in my bed, eat chocolate covered cherry’s, and watch poor quality 90’s movies, I can and no one but me will know about it.  Or judge me for not wearing a bra and not getting out of bed for upwards of 2 days.   I’m sorry, that’s just the kind of life I want to live.  I don’t think it’s too much to ask to have to not worry about stepping on deer brain and not hearing about how antlers gave someone gangrene or how an invisible Justin Bieber is a better sibling than I’ll ever be.  I’m appreciative of free food and a free place to live, the chaos is just getting too ridiculous for my brain to handle (pun definitely intended.)

But most importantly, I need to move out of my parents house so I am not living among an impressionable mind.  I have a high need to entertain myself and when I live with a 6 year old it’s nearly impossible to pull off having teddy ruxpin being a lush without CPS getting called.

It’s time for me to go lay in bed, watch One Fine Day, and dream of floating through a chocolate covered cherry mountain.  Adios my migos.

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