Bright Star, oh, whatever.

Dear Reader,

I apologize for my extended absence.  Blame it on Keats.  Recently I watched Jane Campion's amazing film Bright Star.  I like Jane Campion because she reminds me of my grandmother.  Years ago, when I saw Shindler's List, I called my grandmother afterward, because her family was from very near Krakow.  She called the following evening to tell me she had been to see Jane's Campion's The Piano.  I asked how she liked it.  "Well, I'll tell you something," she began, "I've seen two naked men in my life.  Your grandfather, and Harvey Keitel."

Bright Star was really good - kind of like a tubercular Twilight.  I don't know if actor Ben Whishaw looks much like Keats, but that's probably a good thing.  See?

Nice curls, John.

Honestly, who cares if you are coughing up jellyfish from your lungs when you look like this?

My problem is, you see, that John Keats died when he was twenty-five.  It got me thinking, if Keats had access to Facebook, and Twitter, and had busied himself trying to write silly recipes, would he ever have written Ode on a Grecian Urn?  And if he hadn't done that, my freshman English professor wouldn't have written a whole book on Keats that he could quote from day after day (after day) in a drunken snarl.  So I thought, as I am trying to work on What Comes Next, that I would put aside these distractions.  After all, I am almost twenty-five myself.  But alas, no odes have I written.  So there you have it.

Veal a la Volturi

Never mind the fact that New Moon has far too much of werewolves running around with their pants tied to their ankles with a little strap that they probably pee all over, today is November 20th!  Finally!  Women and their daughters have been waiting for this day for over a year, because today is the day we are reunited with our beloved Edward Cullen.  To endure the long wait on line at the movie theater, and build up your stamina for all the heart pounding, I offer you Veal a la Volturi.  Enjoy.

Veal a la Volturi

You will need:

Body glitter

1 large can tomatoes

Dried basil

1 Tbs. butter

3 Tbs. olive oil

2 veal chops

1 clove garlic, minced

1 onion, thinly sliced

Dried oregano

Dry red wine

Bay leaf

Diversion for boyfriend/ husband

Rub yourself all over with body glitter and stand in the sun.  When people start to stare, look longingly at them then abruptly leave.  Remove veal chops from refrigerator, or alternately, from small cow you have slaughtered to thwart temptation to feed on humans.  Pound chops thin with your amazing vampire muscles, cold as marble and strong as thunder.

In a skillet, heat butter and 1 Tbs. olive oil and saute onions until translucent as the skin of Aro, ancient Volturi who knows you are making this veal right now and planning on going to the movies later.  Add the tomatoes and simmer for two minutes.  Then take the dried herbs in your fingers and crush them easily into a powder, as you would a boulder.  Toss them into the pot with the minced garlic.

Get boyfriend/ husband out of the house and spend a little time on the computer looking at this, this, this and this.  Sigh.

Place remaining 2 Tbs. olive oil into another skillet and brown chops all over.  Then lay them gently, as if laying in a misty flowering meadow, and cover with red wine.  Let the wine pour all over them, running down the supple flesh.  Drink some wine yourself, feeling the rush of it burning past your throat, satisfying an overwhelming urge deep inside you and feeding you with life itself.  Add a bay leaf.

Simmer until most of the wine has reduced and enjoy while looking at this.

Survival Guide

Dear Reader,

Many of you will be forced in the coming months to endure one of the most difficult trials of a person’s life. Events so tragic and memories so horrific that will be burned forever onto your psyche and require years of therapy and prescription drugs to absorb. I am speaking of course of the dreaded Family Reunion. These procedures are fraught with tension and conflict; it helps to have low expectations and to know what you are getting into beforehand. Don’t make the mistake of thinking the reunion is going to be a vacation, a party, or indeed, any fun at all. Oh, no. It will be none of these, my friend. I have created a sample timeline of a day in the life of a family reunion to help you arm yourself for the event.

The Family Reunion: Day 1

7:30 AM Wake to niece and nephew dive bombing you and screaming something about a canoe.

8:00 AM Depart for worst canoe trip ever. Niece and nephew scream and fight over who gets to help paddle, causing the canoe to tip over and you to dive in and rescue drowning children under the scornful watch of older sister who didn’t trust you to take them canoeing in the first place.

9:00 AM Suddenly get urge to take up jogging just to get out of the house for a bit. Run four miles or until you throw up.

11:00 AM Dementia-addled Grandma doesn’t know your name. Tell her that you are the lesbian lover of your brother’s wife. When she asks who your brother is, tell her that he is Charles Lindbergh.

12:00 LUNCH! Finally. Make sure to provide only vegetarian food so that everyone will stay home next year.

1:45 PM Accidentally walk in on awkward tween cousin Bart holding a photo of Hannah Montana with his pants down in the bathroom. Mutter something – anything! And get out quick.

2:00 PM Uncle Fred leaves to go “find things in the garage from last year.” Do NOT, under any circumstances, go with him.

2:45 PM Catch Tara, your 13 year-old second cousin (or something) reading Breaking Dawn. Bond with her over Edward Cullen obsession. Try on her t-shirt with the Cullen Family Crest on it. Show her the photos of Robert Pattinson you have downloaded to your iPhone. Catch glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Next to her taut and dewy face, yours looks like an old leather bag.

3:30 PM Start drinking. Drinking at a family reunion can be a steady all day event that passes totally unnoticed if planned right. The older folks probably start earlier as they go to bed early, so have a cocktail when they do. Your parents will start with a drink around dinner, so switch to whatever they are drinking at that time. After dinner everyone has a drink, so you’re safe then. When the others go to bed, the teenagers will be shot gunning beers in the basement. As long as you promise to buy them more tomorrow, they won’t mind you joining in.

6:00 PM Dinner. Without making eye contact, be sure Bart has washed his hands. Gorge yourself on potato salad, cole slaw and hot dogs. If you are challenged to a hot dog eating contest, have on hand plenty of water to dunk the buns in. Disgusting, yes, but it gets them down faster.

7:00 PM Your father’s cousin Teddy confronts you in the kitchen about your lack of faith in the lord and how it will send you to a fiery hell for all eternity. Calmly remind him that if it isn’t your lack of faith that does it, surely it’s the slutty drunken blur that was your twenties. Not to mention the car you stole on spring break in the Bahamas.

8:00 PM Bart is in the bathroom again. Use the other one, or just go in the woods. He’s going to be awhile.

9:00 PM Someone will want to play charades. Just go along with it because a fight is going to break out soon anyway.

9:30 PM Loud arguing from the porch draws your attention. It’s up to you if you want to investigate because your father is getting in a fist fight with his Jesus-loving cousin Teddy, and your father rolling around in a headlock will be a memory hard to get rid of without the use of painful and costly electric shock therapy. If you do choose to watch, don’t get involved. Teddy’s daughter weighs in at an easy 250 and can crush you with just one of her massive arms should the row evolve into tag-team.

10:30 PM Now that you’re pretty drunk, it’s a good time to air your grievances with your siblings. Some topics for spewing might include:

• The PTSD you suffer as a result of your brother playing his favorite childhood game “Close Call” which involved hurtling toward you on his bike at top speed, only to veer off at the last minute.
• In tenth grade your tramp sister stole your boyfriend because she was willing to go all the way with him and you weren’t.
• Your sister in law’s need to constantly correct your grammar. That is not something with which it is easy to deal. Hah!
• Chastise brother for having a career in banking, proving that he a selfish, greedy, no-talent materialist. (*Note: do not open this can of worms if you will be needing a loan any time soon)
• Tell boorish brother-in-law that he scared off your last boyfriend by constantly farting in front of him.

11:00 PM Bed time. If you have to get up in the middle of the night, be careful as you are on the top bunk and it’s a long way down to the cold basement floor.

Sisters Are Doin' It For Themselves Mother's Day Frittata

Dear Reader,

It is time once again for my most favorite holiday! A day of relaxation and pampering and drinking too much and sleeping it off. I am speaking of course of Mother’s Day. As a mother, this is the best day of my year. I sleep late, have a massage and drink mimosas all day long! Of course this takes a little planning on my part, so I am here to offer some tips to you moms so that you can enjoy your day as much as I will.

I hear from so many women who have complaints about Mother’s Day.

For instance Lauren from Flagstaff writes:

Last year I woke on Mother’s Day to find my husband had left early to go golfing. When I met him later for my Mother’s Day brunch he was already drunk so I had to be the designated driver.

And Sally from Sheboygan writes:

My husband let the kids make me breakfast in bed, which consisted of three Skittles in a tea cup and a giant, inexplicable mess in the kitchen for me to clean.

And poor Beth from Katonah:

Every Mother’s Day I have to go to my mother-in-law’s house and spend the day cleaning out her gutters while she soaks her bunions in Epsom Salts. My husband Danny goes with his dad to the whorehouse in Mt. Kisco. It’s their way of ‘giving the women folk a rest.’ Well I think it stinks.

I couldn’t agree more, Beth. That doesn’t sound like fun at all.

To help, I’ve cooked up a little frittata for the moms. So whether you birthed your kids through your vagina, or your organs were removed from and replaced into your body during a c-section, or you bought your kids on eBay, this one is for you!

Sisters Are Doin’ It For Themselves Mother’s Day Frittata

You will need:

8 eggs
2 Tbs. butter
Alarm clock
1 cup onions, thinly sliced
1 cup Gruyere, grated
Phone
1 cup sliced mushrooms
Champagne
1 cup spring peas
Handful Parmesan cheese
Salt and Pepper
Pen and paper

The day prior to Mother’s Day, preheat broiler then heat butter in a 10-inch non-stick skillet. Sauté onions until translucent then add mushrooms. Use phone to book any spa treatments you wish your husband would have booked for you.

Crack eggs into a bowl and scramble with a fork. Toss peas into skillet then add in the eggs the way you added your eggs to baby daddy’s sperm to make the kids that are supposed to be making this frittata for you. Season with salt and pepper.

Sprinkle all over with Gruyere and cook until almost set. Throw on the Parmesan and place under broiler until golden brown. Remove from oven and cool.

Set alarm for one hour earlier than kids get up. Heat frittata in oven, enjoy with a glass of champagne. Pen quick note to husband and kids saying “Thanks for the day off! It’s just what I wanted!” Don’t forget to bring champagne with you to spa appointments! Call home at end of day for a ride, as you will be too drunk to drive. Once home, head straight to bed with either the box set of the Twilight series, collected films of Robert Wagner or giant book of crossword puzzles, depending on age.

Salade de Tomate

Dear Reader,

This week has been a doozy for me! I came down with the most dreadful cold and could do nothing but lie in my bed all day surrounded by Theraflu and Puffs Plus, with nobody to take care of me as my husband was out of town “on business.” What’s a girl to do in those circumstances but order up a good movie on demand? My choice was Twilight. And, oh what a can of worms did I open! I watched the movie straight through ten times in twenty-four hours switching to Day-Quil shots and diet Red Bull chasers to keep me from falling asleep before the movie expired. In the morning, I had no choice but to venture out and buy the whole ridiculous and addictive teen-aged romance saga, and also a copy of the DVD to keep for my very own. Needless to say, all this worked up quite an appetite, so I whipped up this Salade for lunch. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. And now I must get back to the books.

Yours most sincerely,

Heather

Salade de Tomate for Frustrated Grown Ups Obsessed with Fictional Teen-age Vampires

You will need:

Tomatoes
Youtube
The complete Twilight series (book two optional as concerns mostly werewolves, bo-ring)
DVD of Twilight

When husband/ wife or significant other and any children you may have collected leave house, begin by coating face with a thick layer of white pancake makeup. Stick head in freezer for ten minutes to make it nice and icy like Edward Cullen’s. Take in hand one firm, ripe, blood red tomato. Raise it to your icy face and give it a good sniff, inhaling its scent. Then gently caress the tomato with just your fingertips the way that Edward Cullen does to Bella for one thousand sexually frustrating pages. Resist urge to bite tomato and instead, do a search on YouTube for Edward Cullen + sexy. Watch three of the many photomontages set to the music of Josh Groban, Kanye West and Miley Cyrus.

By this time your face has probably warmed up, so stick it back in the freezer for a few minutes, then fire up the DVD player and pop in your copy of the newly released Twilight. Fast forward to the meadow scene. Watch this three or four times as desired, then move on to the scene in her bedroom when Edward tries to kiss her and says in his icy-breath-teen-idol-vampire-that-can-dazzle-you-with-his-smouldering-eyes voice, “Don’t move-“ for fear he may devour her whole. Watch this scene at least six times, but no more then twelve or else extreme sexual frustration will ensue. Now quickly skip ahead to the prom scene. Not the whole thing, just the part in the gazebo where you think that maybe Edward and Bella are finally going to get it on – if it’s not gonna be in the sack, couldn’t he at least bite her, for crying out loud. Watch this as many times as you like.

Refreeze face and, while prom scene is playing, follow through where teenage vampire spawned from the imagination of a Mormon author cannot. Hold tomato to your icy lips and, with your teeth, pierce the skin. Bury your face in the tomato (harder to do if all you have on hand is cherry tomatoes) as you suck all the juice from its flesh. Clean yourself up, and try to act your age. And in future, if you are going to read racy novels, make sure the characters are adults and that they like to get craaaaaaazy.