MissMeliss: Escribition

As most of my friends and readers know, I’m not a fan of animation in any form, but as a chihuahua owner, I may have to make an exception for the upcoming Disney film Beverly Hills Chihuahua, just because.

Don’t know what I mean? Here. Watch the trailer:

Sometimes, it’s nice to stay near home, and just have a relaxing weekend that doesn’t involve anything more taxing than seeing a movie and light grocery shopping.

Last night, we met one of Fuzzy’s work buddies for the 8 PM show of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, which was delightfully implausible and wonderfully escapist. Shia LaBeouf is becoming quite the performer and growing into a watchable adult, and Harrison Ford is still hot even though he’s showing his age. Or maybe because he is. There’s just something about slightly grizzly, casually disreputable men.

We got home around eleven, and I blogged a bit, and then crashed, slept late today, but not well, because Miss Cleo was on a sugar and cocoa high from stealing a 1/4 pound bar of chocolat noir, and eating it all. I was fairly close to locking her outside for the night, but she’d have barked nonstop.

We finally left the house around three, went to Cracker Barrel for eggs and bacon, and then did the grocery shopping we needed to do (I bought t-bones for tomorrow, an indulgence, but one I’m looking forward to quite a lot), hit Starbucks, hit Blockbuster where we rented a truly atrocious Allen Quartermain film because Fuzzy wanted to see “the character Indiana Jones was inspired by” - I went into the cool, dark bedroom half way through - it was THAT bad.

We also rented Charlie Wilson’s War, because anything that involves Tom Hanks speaking words written by Aaron Sorkin cannot be bad. And when I say rented, I mean, we actually paid money. We didn’t use Blockbuster coupons or exchange DVDs rented by mail, although we have both Enchanted, which I have because Jeremy said I needed to see, and Invasion because I’m all for sci-fi/horror, we just haven’t watched them yet.

And I STILL haven’t seen Sweeny Todd, though I have the soundtrack on one of my mp3 players.

Anyway, tomorrow, we’re hanging out here at home, maybe swimming, maybe just staying inside our blissfully air-conditioned house and watching movies, and maybe catching up on reading and writing.

We’re being homebodies.
And we’re fine with that.

This weekend, our plans are light. We’ve accomplished seeing Indiana Jones, so far - it was, to use the same phrase as a friend, an enjoyable romp. Totally implausible, but fun, and Harrison Ford is still hot even though he’s showing his age.

Other tasks include building the bench Fuzzy bought for me two weeks ago (or was it three) but hasn’t yet but together, taking apart the plumbing of the bathroom sinks and replacing the u-bends, and looking at the pressure on the kitchen faucets because while the bar sink is fine, the main sink seems to be losing pressure and I can’t figure out why.

We could, of course, call the home warranty company for the plumbing, and we might still, but the bench will definitely be completed.

And then maybe we’ll hit the Mars Watch thing at Fair Park, or go see Speed Racer.

Sometime in the next few weeks I’ll be booking my flight and hotel room for my trip to San Francisco in August. As such, I’ve been skimming hotel websites reading about their amenities. I don’t really care if there are walk in bathtubs or not, as I don’t need an accessible room, but wifi is a must, and a free breakfast is useful. I’m looking for a hotel in or near the Marina district, and I found one I think will do, but not sure yet.

I’m looking forward to this trip for the actual conference as much as I’m looking forward to it just for a change of scenery. I do some of my best writing on hotel paper, or in places other than my own home. Something about being “away” just makes the creative juices flow.

I just wish I could be away and still have my dogs. I can sleep fine without Fuzzy if I have to, but sleeping without the comforting weight of a small dog on the covers in front of me is really odd.

It’s weird but having a grill is like having a shiny new toy, and I’m suddenly inspired to cook again.

Sunday night, we had grilled top sirloin with steamed broccoli, and roasted potatoes. (The secret to roasting potatoes on the grill? Put some olive oil and garlic salt on a square of aluminum foil. Coat the outside of the potato (after stabbing it several times so it won’t explode), wrap the foil around it, and then let it sit on the grill for about 45 minutes before you put the meat on.)

Monday night, I made bratwurst, baked beans, and sliced tomatoes seasoned with a little bit of lemon and salt.

Yesterday I coated chicken breasts in a mixture of olive oil, kosher salt, lemon juice, and herbs de Provence, and let them come to room temperature while I roasted sweet potatoes on the grill, and tossed some sliced zucchini in a similar oil/herb/lemon mixture. Then we grilled it all.

As I write this, I’m eating a grilled steak salad (made a basic lettuce salad, poured over it the leftover tomatoes, and then warmed leftover steak and some mushrooms and put that over the cool veggies.) It’s a wonderful blend of tangy and smokey, cool and hot.

Tonight, I plan to make penne al pesto and slice the leftover chicken breast (they come in packages of three and there’s only two of us) into it. Tomorrow we’ll do something with hamburger or turkey, ditto Friday.

I’m only using really light seasoning on all this stuff - garlic, salt and pepper, mostly, but it all tastes so good, and it’s so satisfying, and while, yes, I did succumb to the lure of chocolate and make a batch of brownies last night, they were made from scratch, with half the sugar the recipe calls for, and zero trans-fats.

Stay tuned for more adventures in outdoor cookery, or share with me your favorite grill recipes.

Four years ago, I posted a noodle of a fanfic about Snape and an OFC on fanfiction.net, and every so often I add another interlude.

Yesterday, I was inspired to revamp those one-shots into a coherent story.

The title is ARABESQUE.

You can follow along at Itinerant Imagination or on fanfiction.net.

Lately, I’ve become much more of a hermit than is really healthy, but the thing is, when I pull back from the blogverse and the real world, I can actually zoom through pages and pages of writing. It’s as if withdrawing from human society is the equivalent of an herbal acne treatment for my muse, clearing up the blemishes of self-doubt and self-censorship, and allowing the pores to breathe and the characters I create to speak to me.

So it’s not that I’ve got nothing to say, but that I forget to say it, and then I get distracted.

Today I shared with a trusted friend and source of inspiration what my goal is for the novel camp I’m attending in a couple months. I’m not sharing it here, because I need to bottle the energy for a while, but it has me thinking about the difference between a dream, a goal, and a plan.

I’m at a personal crossroads. I feel like I don’t have anything to blog about and that the energy spent here would be put to better use working on my fiction. How interesting is to say, “I wrote six pages today,” if I can’t share those six pages?