Ramblings of a Non-Native Texan

It’s almost Halloween! One of the most fun festivals of the year. The costumes and candy are great, but pumpkin carving is probably my favorite part of Halloween! So in honor of the coming holiday, here are some of the fun/cool/sick/wicked carved pumpkins I’ve found online over the years that make me wish I had more artistic ability…

I made one last year that looked like this last photo, with a big pumpkin chewing on a smaller one. I couldn’t make it look as good as the one in the pic, but it still got more notice than traditional jack-o-lanterns!

Happy Halloween, everyone! Be creative with your pumpkins, and don’t let the gooey pumpkin guts get under your nails.

Happy hockey season! I love this time of year. I don’t care for the cold weather and longer nights, but I love the holidays, the pumpkin-based recipes, the football, and the HOCKEY. I grew up a fan of the St. Louis Blues, but since living in Texas, I’ve become a die-hard supporter of my Dallas Stars. Simply put, they rock.

Mike Modano carries the Stanley Cup for the Stars

Hockey is one of the greatest sports to watch. It’s fast-paced, it’s rough, and the players (for the most part) aren’t overpaid prima donnas who make headlines for their attitude problems or steroid use. Hockey players are regular guys, probably the most underappreciated in sports, aside from soccer players. Really, hockey is the frozen, fun evolution of soccer. Take soccer; make the ball VERY small, flat and hard; put pads and skates on your players; give ‘em big sticks; and move the whole shebang to the ice. Voila, hockey!

One of the things I like best about hockey is that players don’t get called for penalties just for bumping into each other. In basketball and, increasingly, football, the slightest things are called as fouls, which drags down the games into a mire of officiating. Hockey is unrepentantly boisterous, though. Players routinely drop their sticks and gloves and start wailing on each other, and the officials let it happen. Fighting is all part of the rough-and-tumble game. It’s only when one or both of the guys fall to the ice that the refs get in there to break it up. Then play resumes, with high-speed skating and high-skill puck handling driving the 60-minute clock to a feverish finish. What’s not to love?

Hockey doesn’t get the TV audience of the bigger sports, but boy, are the fans devoted. I love attending hockey games in person, despite the fact that it feels about 30 below when you’re sitting down close to the artificially-generated ice. The fans scream, cheer and, in Dallas, butcher the National Anthem (at the two points in the song where the word “stars” is heard, fans yell “STARS!” at the top of their lungs to support the local Stars team). When you’re at a hockey game, you’re among thousands of your best friends, even if you’ve just met. And when it’s over, you’re shocked that it went by so fast.

What the fans know (and most non-fans don’t think about) is that there’s a lot of finesse to the game of hockey. It’s rough on the surface, but those guys are on ice skates, people. They’re maneuvering a small puck with long sticks at high speeds. It’s not easy, and when a player executes a particularly great move, it’s fodder for the SportsCenter highlight reel (or the YouTube audience). That goes for pros and amateurs alike… Just the other day, the Internet swooned at the ability of 9-year-old Oliver Wahlstrom of Portland, Maine, an up-and-coming hockey player. Watch this kid’s shot:

That is AMAZING, especially at his age. Pro players have made some amazing shots in the past, but this kid’s got some outstanding skill. He’ll probably be hefting the Stanley Cup for his team in a few years.

So Happy Hockey Season, everyone! May your days be merry and bright, and may all your hockey games have fights.

This is one of the funniest things I’ve seen in a long time. If you watched music videos in the 80s, you’ll recognize this A-Ha video, but the lyrics have been re-recorded to simply describe what’s going on in the video. The people at Funny or Die are genius!

Today is National Underwear Day. You probably didn’t know that! I didn’t know, either, until I saw some news reports about it. Now I feel like I should string boxers from the ceiling or put up a tree hung with bras or something.

Freshpair.com has been putting on this event for years, usually keeping it local to NYC with underwear freebies and a fashion show of hot models in their underwear. But every year, it gets a little bigger, and this year, it’s getting widespread attention beyond NYC, especially online.

This blog has a video from 2007′s National Underwear Day that’s pretty funny; check out the perky girl asking complete strangers what they wear under their clothes.

My fiance likes to tease me about how I usually call them “underpants,” not underwear. Last night, I made the mistake of calling my sleeping clothes “jammies,” and he insisted that, with terms like underpants and jammies, I talk like a four-year-old. I never thought about it before, but maybe he’s right. I’m glad he wasn’t around when I accidentally tipped my drink over and said “oops, I spilled my sodie.” He would have despaired of me then. At least I don’t say these things in a baby-talk voice… that would be weird.

But I digress.

So Happy Underwear Day, everyone! It’s a good chance to talk about lingerie or ask “boxers or briefs?” without sounding really creepy.

You know those days when you have trouble focusing or just can’t make your brain turn completely on? I have those sometimes. We all do. But since I don’t drink coffee and I hate energy drinks, here’s what I use to get through my sluggish days (let’s hear it for the sugar rush!)…

Napster, the music service. I have the player in the background while I’m working, just in case I need to get up and groove for a bit to get the circulation going!

That last one is Bosco the chocolate lab mix playing with Blue the pit bull. They keep me company throughout the day. They spend 90% of the day sleeping, 5% of the day outside, 3% of the day playing and 2% of the day finding new and creative things to lick.

If the combination of these things isn’t enough to motivate me throughout the day, then I’m probably in a coma.

It’s been a busy few weeks since I last blogged! Hard to believe, really. So here’s all the news that’s fit to blog (mine and other people’s)…

1. I got engaged! My boyfriend of 3.5+ years popped the question last week. Since we’ve both been married before and don’t want a big giant event, we’re going to pseudo-elope to Vegas in November and get married at the Shark Reef at the Mandalay Bay hotel. I say “pseudo-elope” because we’re making the plans a couple of months ahead and inviting our immediate families. The place won’t let us bring more than 10 guests, so it’ll stay small and intimate. And then we’ll party and head to St. Thomas for the honeymoon! There’s quite a bit of planning to deal with, and nothing is cheap (of course), but the upside is that it’ll be a lot of fun and hopefully nicely elegant. Vegas can really put on some pretty weddings these days… they’re not just cheesy chapel events with Elvis as the officiant anymore! Although that would be kinda cool, too.

2. Our A/C broke down yesterday… Not a good thing in the Texas heat. But the temps have actually been milder lately than usual, and the A/C guy was able to come out today and fix the problem. Woo-hoo! We spent last night in a hotel so we wouldn’t burn up, but now that it’s fixed, we can be comfortable at home again. That’s a nice relief.

3. The Space Shuttle Endeavour landed safely today after 16 days in space. I’m a big fan of the space program… I enjoyed the local launch coverage when I lived in Florida, and I try to keep up with it now that I’m in Texas. Of course, since two of the shuttles have been lost in explosions, interest in the launches and landings is slightly elevated and probably more macabre than it used to be… When the Columbia burned up in the atomosphere a few years ago, pieces of it were found strewn across Texas, some of them close to here. It’s a scary thought, so when another crew makes it home safely, I do a little happy dance. Space really is the final frontier, and I can’t wait to see where we manage to go in my lifetime.

4. The Dallas Cowboys are at training camp. Yessss! Football and Hockey are my two favorite sports to watch, and I’m always excited when football season starts gearing up for another year. It’s another chance to see how far my teams can go (the Rams because they’re my hometown team, and the Cowboys because I live here and have no interest in pissing off everyone around me). It’s a fresh slate! A new season, this time without T.O.! As much as baseball is America’s pastime, it’s a slow, boring game, and the summer really seems to drag until football starts. Go Cowboys (and Rams)!

I think that’s it for now. Join me next time; I’m hoping that I don’t wait so long to blog again!

The Mars company has unveiled a new chocolate: Fling.

The LA Times Blog describes the candy as a truffle filling on top of a crisp meringue layer, with the whole thing covered in chocolate that shimmers (thanks to an edible mineral). The bars are 80 calories each and come in a bright pink wrapper… Gee, I wonder who the target market is??

Sure enough, Mars admits that they were targeting women who wanted to be “indulgent yet also permissive” when eating chocolate. For some reason, that line cracks me up. If you’re indulging yourself with chocolate, doesn’t that mean you’re also permitting yourself to eat it? Or are there women out there who unwrap chocolate bars and then just sit and smell them, indulging the urge to be near chocolate but not permitting themselves to actually consume it?

I think what Mars is getting at is that they wanted to make something that’s chocolatey and decadent but that doesn’t come across as “diet chocolate.” Those 100-calorie packs and tiny chocolate sticks out there that pack just a few calories apiece are nice, and they might be good for quieting the occasional chocolate craving, but the women who eat those healthier-than-the-real-thing treats would almost always rather have a full-sized, full-fat, full-delicious candy bar. In fact, evidence suggests that 100-calorie packs, which were designed on the premise that we humans are incapable of our own portion control (and which are priced more per unit accordingly), are not particularly good for us because they still contain over-processed sugary and salty snacks, just in smaller doses (which aren’t enough to fill up most people). Some say that 100-calorie packs are basically a license to overeat, because people eat more when they think what they’re eating is healthy (check out this article at MSN Health and Fitness for more info). The emphasis should instead be on feeling fuller longer and really dealing with cravings in a healthy manner, rather than imposing portion control through packaging.

But I digress.

Fling sounds delicious, and even though it’s only offered in California so far, I’m looking forward to its wider distribution. In fact, the Shopping Blog has a link to Fling’s website so that the bars can be ordered if you don’t want to wait for your local store to stock them. This is the first new brand from Mars in 20 years, and so far, the reception has been good. Maybe women were really craving a new option for their chocolate obsessions… Maybe it’s just a better chocolate bar than what’s already out there. As an unrepentant chocoholic, I’m eager to give it a try. Or as the name suggests, have a “fling” with something new, different and indulgent.

Today, I had a 20-minute drive through the rural Texas countryside to take my kids to their soccer camp and back. A handful of things struck me as interesting enough to share when I got back, so here they are…

First, I was behind a woman driving a pickup truck. In Texas, this is common. It wasn’t a work truck; it was a clean, shiny, my-toy-is-bigger-than-your-toy truck, bought (as so many are) because it looked good, not because the owners had any intention of hauling anything larger than a handbag with it. The truck itself wasn’t notable; what stuck out was the giant lettering drawn on the back window. In glaring white shoe polish, it read: “You Broke the FAMILY!” Now, when you see shoe polish writing on cars, it tends to be of the more positive variety, like “Just Married” or “Go Seniors!” The condemnation of this mobile message made me wonder two things: one, did the woman ACTUALLY break her family, and two, why didn’t she wash those words off as quickly as possible?? After a bit, she changed lanes and headed down I-20, taking her scarlet letter with her.

Second, I passed a horse trailer. Again, lots of those here. And this one had a horse hanging his pretty brown head out the window. He couldn’t get his whole head out, just the bottom half of it, but he pushed that much out anyway. As I went by, he glanced at me, and then turned his attention to the wind blowing past at 70 mph. He looked like a dog sticking his head out the window. The breeze caught his floppy horsey lips, and they started to wiggle madly. I couldn’t help laughing at the sight of this beautiful horse letting his lips flap in the wind.

Third, I took the kids through the McDonalds drive-thru after I picked them up. There was quite a line (lots of trucks, of course), but eventually, we made it to the pay window. I reached out to hand my money to the lady waiting there, but then she startled me with a loud “Whew!” and I took a better look at her. She was a middle-aged, pudgy woman with a few teeth missing, but she had more than the average allotment of enthusiasm. “I swear!” she exclaimed as she took the money I tentatively extended. “We shouldn’t let men go through the drive thru! They can’t handle it, can they!” Then she laughed and muttered something else while she handed me my change. I laughed nervously, took my coins, and pulled forward to the food window as quickly as possible. Fifteen seconds of interaction that will definitely stick with me for a while.

For a short drive, there was a lot to see. This is some colorful territory, especially if you know where to look!

The heat here in Texas at this time of year is oppressive, and that’s putting it lightly. It’s 105 degrees nearly every day, with almost no rain to provide a little relief. It’s been more humid here in recent years, but when it’s THAT hot out, it doesn’t really matter if it’s wet heat or dry heat. It’s heat. And it sucks the life out of just about anything left outdoors.

I’ve lived here for four years, so I’ve got a few Texas summers under my belt. You’d think I’d be familiar with them by now. But for some reason, this year, I anticipated the summer heat by planting a garden in May. I’m not sure why I planted anything at all… The heat notwithstanding, I can’t keep anything green alive. I have a long and colorful history of killing every plant I’ve ever tried to care for. I water too much, or I don’t water enough, or I don’t talk to it, or whatever… I’ve never been successful at growing things. So combine my black-thumbed nature with the knowledge that summers here can fry eggs on the sidewalk: why would I pick this time to grow a garden?? I’m baffled at myself.

Whatever my reasons, I planted three tomato plants, three jalapeno plants, two okra plants, two watermelon plants, some carrots and some onions. I tried to keep it small and manageable, and stick to plants that had a chance in this climate. I cleared out a patch of my backyard, mixed in some Miracle-Gro planting soil with the clay, put my plants into the ground, and waited. Maybe, just maybe, I’d get lucky.

Not so much. For one thing, the few rains we did have this spring illustrated to me that my garden was right where all the water in our yard drains to. It was a swamp for a while. Then we stopped getting rain altogether, and I couldn’t keep the ground moist enough. Then the dogs, who prefer to be indoors but who spend large chunks of time exploring the backyard, decided that tomato plants make GREAT bathrooms. In the end, I had a patch of bare dirt, stakes sticking up where the tomato plants had been, and some scraggly bits of jalapeno plant left. I gave up.

But perhaps I gave up too soon! The jalapeno plant was hardier than I gave it credit for. I walked out there the other day and found a small, lonely jalapeno pepper laying on the ground. I looked around to figure out where it had come from… After all, it couldn’t have come from that sad little garden, right? But no, it appeared to have grown from the jalapeno plant left in the dirt patch! I picked the pepper up and carried it into the house. It was about the size of a baby carrot, perfectly green and shiny, and I showed it to my boyfriend with glee.

“Look!” I said triumphantly. “I grew this!”

He was suitably impressed.

I put the pepper on the kitchen windowsill as a reminder to myself that I can, in fact, grow things. Several, in fact: The jalapeno plant is STILL hanging on out there, and there’s another tiny pepper sprouting from it. I’ll soon have what amounts to a crop of those little buggers!

It’s really too bad that I don’t actually like jalapenos. I kinda wish I did. I grew them mostly because I figured they’d survive in Texas. Obviously, I was right! Maybe my thumb isn’t as black as I thought.

Steve McNair, former quarterback for the Tennessee Titans, was shot this weekend in what might be a murder-suicide. It’s a tragic case, complete with deceit and a double life (he was cheating on his wife but was apparently a really upstanding guy otherwise… if that’s even possible).

McNair’s story has rocked the pro football world, understandably. I follow football, but I mostly cheer for just two teams: the St. Louis Rams (my hometown team), and the Dallas Cowboys (my current home team). I was raised to hate the Cowboys, but I’ve adapted, partly because blind and uninformed disdain is stupid, and partly because the locals would probably have run me over with their giant trucks if I didn’t find a way to cheer just a little bit for the boys in blue and silver.

So I was slightly surprised at myself when Steve McNair’s name rang a bell for me. I know a few quarterbacks’ names around the league, but McNair was retired and had played for Baltimore in recent years, a team I know nothing about. So what was tugging at my memory about him?

Then I figured it out: He quarterbacked the Tennessee Titans when they went to their one and only Super Bowl. Super Bowl XXXIV, in 2000, against my own St. Louis Rams. Where the Rams beat them, earning the only Super Bowl win they’ve had since moving to St. Louis. And it was actually a good game, with a down-to-the-wire play that fell just a yard short of giving the Titans a chance to come back from a deficit and tie the game.

I've had this image on my laptop for years, remembering the one Super Bowl win my Rams had (it's obviously in poor taste now, at least a little bit, but that's NOT McNair with the ball).

I still lived in St. Louis when that game was played, and I was as caught up in the fervor as the rest of town. It was awesome. It was thrilling. And it was Steve McNair who got the Titans that far that year.

I hope the investigation into his death is quick and efficient, and that his wife and sons don’t need to suffer more than they already are. And I REALLY hope that other athletes and celebrities learn something from this, even if it’s just to think twice before getting caught up in an affair with someone half their age.