Thursday, August 25, 2011

Where's Waldo?

Or more importantly, where’s Mrs. Tuna. Last we heard our caped crusader was boozing it up in California with her BFF.None of you even noticed in the last post the first picture was of La Tuna Canyon Road, they rolled out the carpet for us. And grand adventures they had, they even had a surprise visit from the first live, in person, blogger Kernut the Blond. While I was seething in jealousy on Kernut’s trip to BlogHer she offered to make the 6 hour round trip drive for dinner with a view. I didn’t even hate her when she told me how the weight was pouring off since she gave up eating dairy. There is no life without cheese so fat I shall remain.

One of the major drawbacks I have is that I have a tendency to leave chargers willy nilly wherever I go. Crap, left both the laptop and phone charger. If this was the first time it had happened we’d all have a good laugh. This translated into only logging on in 5 minute increments to check my facebook and my blog stats while waiting for the return of my lifeline to the internet gods. It should be noted that apparently the term Vino Slut apparently has offended some followers and they have removed themselves from my sordid little blog.

Now I’m engrossed in becoming more smarter back at ASU with taking 5 classes for 16 credits. What is wrong with all of you, why didn’t you crawl through your monitors and bitch slap some sense into me? So please, please, please bear with me over the next few weeks while I get acclimated to not ever sleeping again. It was hard enough wading my way through condom wrappers and digging up immunization records from the stone ages.

It’s all documented in my number one viewed post of all time, New Adventures of the Naughty School Girl. Interestingly enough the Google key word searches that steered those little perverts there are naughty school girl, kill chicken, kill school girl. I’m scared, hold me. Maybe if I get laid off at the end of the month it will leave me PLENTY of time to study stupid zoning law, planning methods and basket weaving.

This week lets whip together a little something that’ll keep me at studying rather than slaving away in the kitchen especially since we are experiencing extreme heat warnings with temps approaching 120 degrees. Pantyhose is not my friend.

Mint Pesto with Pita
1 cup firmly packed fresh mint
½ cup golden raisins
½ ounce walnut halves
3 tablespoons cream cheese
1 tablespoon olive oil
4 medium pitas cut into pieces.

In food processor combine all ingredients except pita and blend until smooth. Serve with pita. And look now I have minty fresh breath too.

One of my followers Carol at Facing50withhumour is an amazing blogger who is getting ready to have a novel, Mini Skirts and Laughter Lines, published. Color me jealous. But she is having an online launch party on September 16th, all day, all night. Lots of chances to win fabulous prizes. She promised to enter those followers who sent her pictures of themselves in miniskirts in a drawing for a Kindle. Ignore the man hands and flailing arms, it’s my attempt to distract you from my muffin top. Pick me, pick me, pick me. I need a little cheering up.

Monday, August 15, 2011

The Vino Slut Rides Again

Okay, Mrs. Tuna is writing this blog after entirely way too much wine tasting in on her mini getaway with BeBe. Ignore any typos are perhaps a little too much oversharing based on her overindulgence of white wines not over ice. Actually I’m a little drunk right now so who knows what’ll come out through the magic typing fingers.

We opted to drive 10 hours to save 57 cents over airfare and have quality girl time. The Big Tuna rented Bebe and me a car. My truck has a eleventy million miles on the odometer, last thing he felt like doing was rescuing whiny/winey girls with a non starter vehicle.

I like to prepare for every possible temperature and social occasion and you can see my OCD (Overpacking Clothes Dilemma) tendencies.

Bebe is much more restrained……

The car is way smarter than me, I hate it. I couldn’t figure out how to start the little f*cker, it had a stupid button rather than a key (Apparently you have to put your foot on the brake). Had to ask the little chicky behind the counter for special instructions for remedial driving. Don’t get me started on the cruise control, it felt compelled to automatically slow down when I got too close to fellow race car drivers.

Overall, we had a pretty sedate drive until we hit LA, where we couldn’t get off because we were afraid the Bloods or Crypts would knife middle aged women for a dime. Bebe was the navigator, she should have stopped listening to my slutty stories which include Astro Glide and friction and focused on the directions. I literally had to drive across 70 lanes of traffic to make my exit. Nothing like the Big Tuna School of Nascar driving to make me understand the finer skills of cutting off peeps.

We are midway through our escape from the Dante’s inferno heat of Phoenix’s 105 degree heat to a chilly 71 degrees where we need Saint Bernard’s to arrive with caskets of wine to sustain us at Avila Beach. Not a problem, free wine tasting coupons from the resort that is within walking distance to downtown bars save us from those pesky DUI’s.

Since I’m too toasted to have my recipes at hand I’m cheating this week and figuring out how to wander into Trader Joe’s for all the ingredients.

Eggplant Roll-ups
Trader Joe’s Breaded Eggplant patties
1 cup shredded Mozzarella cheese
One container Premade pesto

Spread pesto on top of eggplant and sprinkle with cheese. Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes. There is no guarantee on time since I’m drunk and doing from memory. Good luck.

Today we went to downtown San Luis Obispo for a little retail therapy. Bebe, who is amazing in a blue short dress she bought. I am obviously not cool enough to know the difference between what is a shirt and a dress. If I wear it as a dress all my naughty parts will hang out and we know how we feel about that! Evenings here have been spent drinking ridiculous amounts of wine with some friends who are encouraging Bebe to get in touch with her wild side, which included a Wally story, a balcony fashion show with new said dress and going to bed with all her clothes on. As her true friend I will not post those pictures on Facebook, at least until I sober up

Thursday, August 11, 2011


Most of my life I have considered myself to view the world as half full. When things are at their worst I am usually able to bring myself back to center with humor. But I am not feeling funny, only broken and sad.

Lately I feel completely worn out. The last two years have been some of the most emotional and difficult times I’ve ever felt. I am treading water, unable to make decisions, unable to move forward or back.

I never realized how much my job defines how I view myself and my worth. I have never been one to dread Monday morning, I am eager to mentor and encourage staff. Will I keep it through the next round of layoffs at the end of the month? I can only hope.

One of the things that normally help me find mental balance is the time spent on my horse. He suffered a hoof infection resulting in the last year stall bound. I’ve spent thousands of dollars I don’t really have hoping for a fix. It does not look like he will recover and will have to be put down, why does this make me weep, it’s just a stupid horse.

I’m missing my mom, her battle with cancer ending after a year long tough struggle on Thanksgiving 2009, she was my best friend. Always knowing the words to encourage me, make me shine, be the best. A trait apparently I can’t bring to my daughter, I fail her need for emotional support, something her Grandmother could give her in ways I cannot. She was a professional writer in her later life, she would have love blogging, I wish I discovered it sooner for her.

I am returning to California this weekend, to the place I scattered my mom’s ashes last summer. Perhaps that explains why my heart is feeling fragile. My life is not as hard as so many others, I feel guilty for complaining what seems insignificant by comparison.

My love stands at my side, steadfast, enduring in his place beside me. Only wanting me to be myself again. Waiting with open arms. I will recover, I will go on, I will be back.


Sunday, August 7, 2011

Vino Slut

Imagine my amazement when checking my email to receive an invite to review wine. Well hells bells, where do I sign up for free liquor. But the suspicious chick I am began to wonder what could possibly be the trap. After all, I remember the days before the Tylenol safety packaging. Quickly, I did a Google search of Flip Flop Wines to ensure no wack a doodle was luring innocent bloggers to their death. No recent poisonings by people pretending to be wine merchants, whew, safe. Because besides Wikipedia, I get all my facts from Google, the Google Rapture notwithstanding.

First, a little background on Flip Flop Wines. Based in California, they produce affordable wine for approximately $7 a bottle. Certainly within Mrs. Tuna’s price range. Typically my criteria for selecting wine involves standing at Costco picking wines with more than 90 points or pretty flowered labels. The second measure is gotta be less than $10 bucks because I am a cheap date. The thing that appealed to the more noble me (no really, I can be noble sometimes without a payoff) was that for every bottle of wine sold they will donate a pair of flip flops to someone in need since they are paired with Soles4souls. This organization sends shoes to people often impacted by natural disasters or third world countries to improve quality of life. Besides, flip flops are the universal weekend shoe for those of us crammed into pointy high heels all week because they make our ankles look shapely.

The tall, dark and handsome Stephen (okay we are thinking of course he’s tall dark and handsome with amazing abs because he’s offering free booze) obviously read my blog since he knew I was only a white wine woman. I have to reject red wine, I seriously think I have some kind of weird allergy because 2 hours after drinking I wake up from a dead sleep violently ill. The same instant alert you get when you hear the dog getting ready to yack at 2 AM. Frick, I can drink gallons of white or beer so I know I’m not a pansy ass light weight. Maybe I need one of those medical ID bracelets, Do Not Administer Red Wine in Case of Emergency. Stephen, my new BFF committed to sending 3 white wine samples, how giddy was I when it turned out to be THREE WHOLE BOTTLES!

Since the Big Tuna is more of Bud Light kind of redneck beer drinker I recruited my cohort in booze fiestas Bebe to help with evaluations of Chardonnay, Riesling and Pinot Grigio. The bottles give descriptions of what they will taste like and food pairing recommendations along with their trademark flip flop label. This week’s recipe is seafood, always a hit with the lighter variety of wine.

Tom’s White Clam Sauce
4 tablespoons butter
1 small onion minced
2 cloves garlic minced
Black pepper to taste
2-6 ounce cans chopped clams
Handful parsley chopped
1 cup heavy cream

Drain clams but reserve juice. Melt butter in sauce pan. Add onion, garlic, pepper, clam juice and parsley to butter and simmer for 10 minutes. Add chopped clams and simmer for an additional 10 minutes. Add heavy cream and heat throughout. Serve over hot pasta with parmesan cheese. My Italian brother-in-law gave me this recipe after promising not to divulge it under penalty of mafia. When you don’t hear from me again it’s because I’m living in a South American Country.

All of you that know me know I’m a bit of a wine ho, hopefully I won’t come off too trite in my review. While I’m not sure I agree with the food pairings I have to honestly say I was really surprised on how tasty it really was for a table wine. Now that’s it’s been a steady 110 degrees in Phoenix, light and refreshing is the order of the day. So tasty in fact, I relinquished my standard ice cubes in order to not dilute the taste. If you are looking for a basic and affordable wine then I can certainly recommend Flip Flop wines. I wonder if since they support a Soles4souls I can get a tax deduction….if so, ship me a case.