I will be unavailable for a few weeks-let’s say another mini vacation.   When I return, I’ll have tons of interesting stories to tell, and pictures to post.  In the mean time, to my loyal readers I will be lurking… and taking notes on my observations and impressions. 

When I was an undergrad I was fascinated by the Jerry Springer show.  Day after day, night after night, I couldn’t seem to get enough of drunken ramblings, and the shock of incestuous adulterous relationships.  I shamelessly admit I was drawn to the obscenity of it all.  I loved the idea of living vicariously through the drama of strangers as they destroyed personal relationships and embarrassed the heck out of themselves.

As I matured and reality TV evolved over the years I wondered what was so enticing about watching the lives of other people fall apart.  Good grief, what is it? Simply a case of good old fashioned voyeurism or the shock of watching seemingly average people test sacred relationships without remorse and fiercely compete against one another?  

Was I among the masses that watch reality TV because I want to escape, or was I fantasizing about gaining celebrity even if it meant putting myself in a compromising position to do so.  If given the chance could I be brave enough to publicly humiliate myself?

Among thoughts floating across my mind as I watched shows like survivor, Amazing Race, Temptation Island and others was- why were these supposedly average people on TV to begin with.  Maybe some for money, among a long list of other reasons-I guess. 

After questioning why these characters were on TV posing as real, and why I bothered to watch in the first place, I also had to ask myself if I was able to handle my own reality and be content.    

Maybe Henry David Thoreau hit the nail on the head when he said “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” 

Bon Appétit! 

A dear friend of mine from work who hunts in his spare time, decided to gift me with a few links of delicious venison sausage.   I don’t have all the precision that most cooks have, but I managed to put this wonderful spicy and healthy recipe together.  

To make this meal complete- indulge in a glass of Pinot and fresh Italian bread dipped in oil and fresh basil.

Usually, the first thing I do at the end of a long day is unhook my contraption, and toss it!

Today, Its Saturday and I’ve decided to take a drive to the local Starbucks for my morning chai.  The difference between this morning and every other morning trip to Starbucks is that I have decided to go sans brasserie-the road less traveled in my neck of the woods.

For months I’ve been apprehensive about wearing the long, free flowing cotton summer dress that has been in my closet collecting dust partially due to a dilemma that most women are familiar with.  How does a woman who is not exactly Perky Pamela pull off a strapless, and practically backless tube top dress without a bra? 

I thought about buying a contraption that would hold me up, and tuck me in.  Would this solution be more uncomfortable than every other brasserie I own?  Would it make a difference if I spent $5 or $50?  Probably not.  Would I have to tuck, pull and pat-all to make sure this contraption kept my girls from playing Peek-A-Boo-probably so. 

Well.  First and foremost, the girls and I would much rather be comfortable than perky-at least today.  So I put my dress on, checked to make sure my headlight weren’t on (I hope this is a universal term-eek!), and headed out the door as chipper as a song bird.   As I stood in line waiting to place my order at Starbucks, the woman behind me leaned it with a raised eyebrow, clearly conveying her discontent and whispered in a strained voice:

That’s a lovely dress…are you wearing a bra dear?

I smiled sweetly of course.  Then, I snapped my tube top loud enough to imply, that the girls and I-were in fact not wearing a bra.