Trash-ination

I've always been attracted to trashy, nasty girls. Not men, so much, maybe because trashy behavior is accepted more in men. Even as a young girl, my very favorite musical was Gypsy because it was about strippers. I almost memorized The Happy Hooker when I was in the eighth grade.

I found to my surprise that I was actually repulsed my such nastiness up close. When I was about 8 months pregnant I made my first foray into a strip bar. After the initial minute or so of shock at the nakedness, it was sordid and actually dirty. Like the guys who were there are dirty, the place was dirty -- as in they have dirt on them.

I found it the most un-sexy thing ever, watching these bored, half-lit girls wiggle around desperately to earn money. I remember this one mousy little waitress who had on a really cheap blond wig and looked terrified. It was so dejected and sad. As I walked in the door, the bouncer felt compelled to pat my belly, but hell, it's not as though the baby is participating in any of this. I nursed my lukewarm, flat Coke and counted the minutes until I could leave. I wasn't offended, just tired and bored.

But my fascination lives on. I just make sure to keep it more in the conceptual arena. This is all a long preamble to the shame-faced confession that I'm completely addicted to Rock of Love starring Bret Michaels. Michaels is the front man for a moderately successful power band from the 80s called Poison. They pretty much sucked and all you probably hear from them is "Ain't Nothing But A Good Time" which is trotted out at sporting events. "Every Rose has its Thorn" is another, really bad song they did.

The formula for the show is simple, Bret Michaels a middle-aged pudgy, chinless, apparently balding, guy who wears bandannas and the cheapest looking wig ever ("Finest hair extensions Europe has to offer" -- as he put it in one show -- notwithstanding), is looking to find love by having a bunch of girls come and vie for his "heart." It's kind of like The Bachelor, although instead of a good-looking, young guy, you have a washed-up rock singer in his 40s. And instead of a bevy of lovely, dewy young things, you have the trashiest strippers, porn stars and whatever they could dredge from the gentlemen's clubs and peep shows around the LA and Vegas areas.

You gotta love it. Brett, who has Type I diabetes, pretends he's this wild, partying rock star, when, in fact, he's in a long-term relationship with some girl and has two very young kids. His signature move is to make out with all the girls. And he's of the St. Bernard slobber school of making out, which makes it especially disgusting. Plus the majority of the girls are about half his age -- and this dude shows his age.

Nonetheless, I have to watch it. This season, Bret took his show on the road. The producers were able to wrangle up some really lovely examples of sex on the hoof this side of the HBO series Hookers at the Point. The intellectual discourse among these girls and Michaels is something to behold. Michaels uses such endearing terms terms as "me likey" or "Hey OH" or "your hotness" as he slits his protuberant eyes into snake-like slits and watches the latest silicone-bloated chest come staggering toward him for some of that luscious, slurping making out.

The girls drink constantly and compete in absurd games that seem designed to showcase the plastic, surgically enhanced beauty that Michaels finds so appealing. This season is winding down. Bret made the fatal error of getting rid of the trashiest girls too early. I think he didn't mean for the last one to leave, but this time most of the girls are more obvious in their disdain for Michaels and they seem delighted to get the hell away from liver lips.

But I'll still watch to see who has "captured Bret's heart" this season. The last time, he spoke sadly of the blow-job he probably wasn't going to get from one of the girls he had cast aside earlier in the competition. He really is a disgusting man, although that doesn't stop me from watching his every move.

I agree with the blogger who said this was the only show from which you could get a contact STD. When I'm done watching, though, it's always time for a nice, long, hot shower.

Living la vida lo-carb

Once again I find myself packing way too many pounds, which is even more worrisome than usual given the fragile nature of my legs and joints these days. So Dr. Atkins and I have found ourselves reacquainted.

I'm not sure what it is about my body, but ti seems to respond well to a lo-carb diet. My dad has used the Atkins diet since the 70s to lose weight. Back then it was the "drinking man's" diet because you could still consume as much alcohol as you wanted and eat steaks.

These days they've watered down the message a bit and don't call for the high-fat, meat-only diet the good doctor espoused. But then he slipped on a patch of ice and cracked his skull open, so he is no longer around to keep the message alive.

But the good ol' Atkins seems to work for me, especially now with more and more no sugar treats. Overall I try to avoid sugar. I've always had a bad reaction to eating too much of it and when I cut it out entirely, I tend to be a lot healthier. It's kind of a shame because I've discovered baking in my older age and now I can only make the treats, not eat them.

The good news, however, is that I've lost weight, and although I need to lose more, I'm encouraged. I've been pretty much subsisting on meat and salad dinners, with an emphasis on chicken and seafood ever since my uric acid level came back high during my pre-surgery blood work, which could be an early sign of gout, which I DON'T want to get.

I still eat meat from time to time, though. In fact, I'd been wanting to make some meatballs for a while because we had a can of those french fried onions you use in green bean casseroles hanging around and they have 3 carbs per 2 tablespoons, which means they'd be a great replacement for bread crumbs in my meatballs, I thought.

I had seen a recipe for meatballs and baked ziti and decide to craft my own lo-carb version. Once of the greatest discoveries for us lo-carb, low glycemic index dieters has been Dreamfields Pasta, which allows us to eat pasta with carbs that are basically passed through the body. I showed it to my dad and have studied it and it seem legit. And the Trader Joe's
Barbecue Grill & Broil seasoning is fabulous because it has no salt and lot's of flavor.

So here's my Lo-carb baked ziti with meatballs

1 and one-half box Dreamfields** penne pasta, cooked to shy of al dente and drained
1 pound ground beef 85/15
2/3 can of Durkee french friend onions, crushed
2 large eggs
1 tablespoon Trader Joe's barbecue Grill & Broil seasoning
3/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 onion chopped
3 cloves garlic finely chopped
2 large cans Progresso chopped tomatoes with puree
3 fresh bay leaves
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1/2 cup dry red wine
1 package trader Joe's quattro frommagio cheese
1 pound whole milk mozzarella cheese
1 pint whole milk ricotta cheese
2 large eggs
1 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Mix together the ground beef, dried onions, grill seasoning, eggs and Parmesan cheese. Roll in small balls and cook in skillet with olive oil heated to medium. Cook meatballs until browned on all sides. Drain the fat (this is absolutely necessary to make a non-greasy meal). Add onions in with meatballs and cook until transluscent, about 4 minutes. Add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add cans of tomatoes, wine, oregano and bay leaves. simmer. Mix the ricotta cheese with two large eggs. Using a large baking dish (11 by 13 inches) sprayed with canola oil, spoon a few tablespoons of sauce (avoid meatballs) into the bottom. Top with half the cooked penne. Top the sauce with two-thirds of the ricotta mixture. Top with half the quattro frommagio, half of the mozzarella, sliced and half the remaining Parmesan cheese. Top with remaining pasta. Add remaining ricotta and other remaining cheeses. Bake in 350 oven for 40 minutes.

** Dreamfields cut their box size to 13 ounces, so you have to use more than once box. Jerks.
*** real Atkins calls for whole milk products, which are much lower in carbs.

Look what they done to my beach, ma

Rob and I love the beach here. We take the dogs there every day, which they love. But recently our beloved beach walk has become marred by tons of crap that is being dumped their by the harbor authorities. I thought mucking up the coastlines was a no-no in California. Apparently I was wrong.

We used to take the to the park -- Cemetery Park -- where they peed with delight on the graves on Ventura's founders each and every day. I'm not sure if it's something they put on the grass or what, but first Rascal would chew his paws after he was at the park. He would rub his belly on the grass, which made it itch, so bright dog that he is, he'd rub it more.

Then Fuser started limping every time we took him to the park and his paws started getting red. The vet and I agreed that it appears to be an allergy of some kind, so long story finally over, we decided to take the dogs to the beach for their daily constitutional.

Chris once observed that he couldn't imagine the endless boredom of our dogs' lives. But we pointed out that they experience such boundless joy that they can live their lives with going to the beach as the highlight and they're at the zenith of doggie aspiration. Their second favorite thing is going to bed because they all snuggle under the covers or on top of the down comforter. And a good cuddle or bellyrub will never be turned down.

Our dogs enjoy food as much as the next dog, but they're not food-obsessed because we let them graze. The worst thing you can do for dogs, we've found, and for people, is to make them feel deprived. Then they become obsessed with whatever they feel they're not getting. That's why diets never work in the long run.

What our dogs go crazy for is their daily walk to the beach. They get so excited when Rob and I started getting ready, it's like being in the vortex of a furry tornado. When we put Stash's harness on her, they go completely bananas. Titan emits a piercing skull-splitting shriek/bark and jumps around knocking everything off the coffee table. Rascal starts barking hysterically and they all run to the door and back to us in frantic circles.

Occasionally, we have errands to run prior to the beach run, although we did learn our lesson about taking too long with pre-walk errands when we went to Fry's in Oxnard one day and on the way back Rascal shit in the car. They save up their poopies for their walks and if they don't get to the beach in short order, well, you can't hold them responsible, they say.

We take the dogs down to the beach at Ventura Harbor, which is one of the few where dogs are allowed. Most beaches don't allow dogs. They say it's because the fecal matter contaminates the ocean. But most people will pick up after their dogs. It's just that the world is divided between dog-lovers and assholes, and it seems the assholes are in charge and make the signs.

The beach at Ventura Harbor is one of the nicest, IMO, because there are no houses crowded up next to it. It's pretty wild and it extends down to the Santa Clara river mouth. It's a great place to see sunsets over the Channel Islands and birdwatch. We all love our daily walks there.

Well until recently. Each year, the Harbor Commission or whomever, has the harbor dredged. It isn't a natural harbor and it tends to fill with sand and other crap during the year. The dredging is done in the winter or early spring to avoid tourist season. They have a big dredging boat that is basically a giant vacuum that sucks all the crap up from the bottom of the harbor and sends it down a pipe that they extend down the beach. Then they dump the crap by the Santa Clara river mouth. This year they have a couple of bullzoders and they appear to be making some kind of makeshift jetty our of all the crap they're dredging up. But a bunch of the crap is drifting down the beach, back toward the harbor and being dumped all over the once-beautifil beaches where we walk the dogs.

Now the beach smells bad and the dogs are forever finding all kinds of nasty treats in the debris. Usually when there's a lot of debris on the beach, they come and bulldoze in into the sand. I'm hoping they get this bulldozed soon. Because until then our beach walks are a whole lot less enjoyable for us. The dogs aren't complaining, though. They LOVE trash.