Recipe Puppy, a new favorite thing of mine…

I have a new love in my life. Meet "Recipe Puppy," a little pug that "fetches" recipes for you based on what you already have in your kitchen (plus or minus a few ingredients). Not only does this help immensely when you are trying to make dinner on a budget and with what you have on hand, the recipes are fresh, varied and easy to personalize.

Perfect for a foodie on a budget!

Check out the new gadget posted under my "favorite things" bar. Try it for yourself, and I guarantee Recipe Puppy will steal your heart and make your mouth water.

I heard the news today…

So I am driving with my mom to the mall making small talk when suddenly the radio announcer says that Michael Jackson is dead. Farah Fawcett, too. Our jaws hit the dashboard. I for one am very sad to hear of Farah's passing. The woman battled her cancer with bravery and grace and I sincerely hope she is at peace. It is a very sad end to a very nice lady.

As for Whacko Jacko…

Well, I'm not heartless to say I'm glad he's dead, but really, this was only a matter of time. Living life constantly stoned and drunk? His strange fascination with small children (and it's sick and sexual, I still have no idea how he got off at that trial)? They say that he was discovered by his family this morning, his father attempted to resuscitate him and then they called for EMS. But here's the thing… when the EMTs and paramedics got there, he was cold. Contrary to popular belief, it takes a while for a body to get cold to the touch. The hospital is saying cardiac arrest. My person opinion? Cardiac arrest for certain, but almost certainly during the night from drugs. Your heart can only take so much abuse, after all.

Is there a silver lining to all his death?

Well, maybe some little children won't be molested.

Can you guess I was never a big fan?

The return of the prodigal grad student…

Yes, I know it is June. No, I haven't had time to blog. So let's pretend I didn't flake out for three months and move right along.

Anyway, now that a grad school has been chosen, an apartment leased and a dorm room lined up, all I have left to do is pack. However, that is much more complicated than originally anticipated. Firstly, I am moving out of my family home (at least partially) and into two, yes two, different places. The first is the apartment Super Boy (now Super Fiancé) and I will be sharing. The second is yet another dorm room. This is an unfortunate necessity considering the apartment is a good two hours from where I'll be going to school so… two "homes" it is.

But how do you divide your life into equal pieces? I still have a place to crash in my parents' home, so I have to leave some stuff there. And I will be teaching while going to school so all of my work clothes are getting shipped there. And everything else is getting loaded into a truck and hauled over to the apartment. Logically it all makes sense. But really, how do you live in so many places at once? It feels like I am pulled in three directions and once and I really don't have a place to call "home."

Do I have a roof over my head? A place to sleep? A place to work and study? Yes, and I am deeply, wholeheartedly thankful to have so many places to stay if need be. But I don't have that once place, that one spot on earth that is mine. I don't have that niche where I am utterly, entirely comfortable with my surroundings and myself. I don't have a real "home."

But there's nothing I can do about that. I will just have to put up with this awful feeling of displacement until I get a real home to call my own. Until then there is nothing I can do.

I am, in some sense, homeless.