At Last ... Miss Peaches Found Her Peace

Last Friday, January 20, legendary songstress and "Matriarch of R&B," Etta James, passed away after her battle with leukemia. She would have turned 84 today. Miss Peaches will always have a special place in my heart - I danced my first dance with my husband to her timeless classic, "At Last." That's a moment I will never forget.

Today, on her birthday, let us celebrate the life, the legend, and the longevity of Miss Etta James, whose memory will live on forever in her music.

YOU Are Possibly the Coolest Person I Know...

Hi, gorgeous! It's National Compliment Day, an unofficial national holiday, created by two imaginative New Hampshire natives Kathy Chamberlin and Debby Hoffman back in 1998. Time for a confession: I love compliments. Big ones, small ones, sincere ones, wholehearted ones, halfhearted ones, fake ones ... Who cares? I don't discriminate; any ego stroke is a good stroke, in my book. Perhaps that makes me a bit self-involved, but let's be real ... who doesn't like compliments?? Nice words make people feel good; they just do. So, do your part today. (You should actually probably try doing this every day, but let's face it, sometimes you just don't feel like being nice.) Tell somebody something that you like about them today - make someone smile. You just might get a compliment back ... in which case, you'll probably smile ... and smiling is good for the soul. See how it's all worth it? I'll lead the way:

You're good enough; you're smart enough; and doggone it, people like you!

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...if you don't care to make anyone else smile, but you still want to do something good for your soul - compliment yourself. You'll still probably smile. Just give yourself a look-see in the mirror and say, "Damn, I look good." I'll allow the vain self-indulgences today, but only because it's National Compliment Day. I'm pretty sure there aren't any rules. It's not like it's National Compliment Somebody Else Day. Until next time, my highly intelligent and strikingly good looking readers! 

Power to the People!

Today, in support of the SOPA/PIPA protest, I'm also doing a blackout. I know that this just a little ol' blog, and that I don't reach as many people as Wikipedia or Reddit; but every little bit counts. It takes a village, people! So, please take the time that you would be spending reading my blog to instead read up on the topic at hand! Do some research - and if you agree that SOPA and PIPA violate your first amendment rights, contact your local representatives, or sign the petition. Together, we can all make a difference. 

Happy Birthday, Dr. King.

Martin Luther King, Jr. is celebrated today, January 16, 2012, one day after he would have turned 83 years old. Today, many of us are off of work, enjoying the many luxuries that we often take for granted. Some have more than others: nice cars, vacation homes, private jets ... but we all have our freedom. We all have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of our own happiness. So today, let us not forget the struggle that came before us, the loooong trek to the mountaintop of civil liberty. Let us celebrate how far we as a nation have come; but also not forget how far we still have to go. Today, let us remember a man who helped to pioneer the Civil Rights Movement, and challenged our nation to lift [itself] "from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood." Happy Birthday, Dr. King - today we celebrate your memory and your vision.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Excerpt of speech taken from YouTube

*If you live in Atlanta, and have not been to the MLK memorial - for shame! You should get on over there, at least just to see it. Culture, remember? Get you some! 

Weekly Rewind

It appears as though we have reached another Sunday! I love Sundays for their sheer laziness and indulgence - sleeping in late, BRUNCH (Because who doesn't love brunch ... and bloody marys or mimosas?), lounging around all day, marathons of various intelligence-reducing-reality-television delights to tickle your fancy ... what's not to love? Well, they also mean catching up on different odds and ends, taking care of last minute chores, and finishing up last-minute details before the beginning of a new work week (for my 9-to-5 readers out there). SO, get out there and really enjoy the remainder of your weekend, folks! Whether that means sitting around your house, reveling in doing absolutely nothing, or getting out and enjoying this beautiful (albeit cold) weather we're having - enjoy your Sunday! Now, on to the Weekly Rewind...

January 9 - Jay-Z and B.I.C. release "Glory"
The lyrics of this song pretty much speak for themselves. It was really nice to be made privy to some of the more personal details of Jay and Bey's struggles with conceiving. Knowing what I do now, I stand my my earlier position that it doesn't matter whether or not the rumors about Beyonce's pregnancy were true. I don't know about you, but I can't wait to see what "a pinch of Hov [and] a whole glass of B" turns out like!



January 9 - Bibbidi-bobbidi, WHO? NPR blog, The Two-Way, reported on Monday that police in Madison, Wisconsin arrested Beezow Doo-Doo Zopittybop-Bop-Bop, after receiving several complaints that the man was prowling around a neighborhood park. 

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*record scratch*  Yes, you read that correctly. The man, formerly known as Jeffrey Wilschke, legally changed his name last October to Beezow Doo-Doo Zopittybop-Bop-Bop. I can't help but laugh at this story (considering that his last arrest was for grinding marijuana in another Madison park, and no one appears to have been hurt, I think it's safe to say that he's relatively harmless). You know, like a fairy tale character.




January 12 - Not Illegal, but Not Exactly LaxIndiana mom Dynesha Lax got creative with her tough love method of raising her 14-year-old son, forcing him to stand on the side of the road wearing a cardboard sign advertising his indiscretions to passing motorists :

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..."I sell drug"? Stay in school, kids.
Well, that concludes this week's Weekly Rewind! Last week was a bit stingy on the crazy, but I've got a good feeling about what's to come this week. Y'all come back now, ya hear?

Tips From a Gourmet Goddess

Today, I thought I would start a new series for this blog, entitled "Tips From a Gourmet Goddess," in which I share different recipes and foodstuffs that I love, so that you too can partake in them. But what makes me a gourmet goddess, you ask? Well, I like to consider myself a bit of a foodie (I'm not quite a hardcore foodie, because I draw the line at eating things like chicken feet and chicken hearts, or any random part of the digestive tract (because it smells probably smells like poo)) ... and I'm also a pretty decent cook (I would say I'm better than decent, but you would probably find it vain). But the real inspiration for the gourmet goddess title came from my hubs.

Here's the back story: I hosted my very first legit Thanksgiving dinner last year with 10 people. A night or two before Thanksgiving, the hubs called me from work with a random question: "Do you consider yourself to be a domestic diva, or a gourmet goddess?" My response? "Probably a gourmet goddess. I like to cook, but I'm not very domestic; I hate to clean." Well, flash forward to the hubby's homecoming from work, and lo and behold, he had a surprise present for me! I don't know about you, but I love surprise prezzies! (Who am I kidding? I just like stuff.) What was it, you ask? I'm sure you're waiting with bated breath. Well, C, being the thoughtful hubs that he is, remembered that I had complained about not having an apron (because I obviously need to protect my designer duds sweatpants when I am in the kitchen creating my culinary masterpieces); and since Thanksgiving was quickly approaching, and with it, the nine-hour long, ultra-tedious meal preparation, my oh-so-thoughtful hubs bought me one!

Note the already-lit gas stove in the back. See? Told you I was a gourmet goddess.

So, now that you know the back story on why I'm a gourmet goddess, let's move on to some tips, shall we? Today's recipe is the one I always go to for a fail-proof steak dinner that is sure to impress. If you like red meat, and you've always wanted to know how to execute the perfect "home" steak, this recipe's for you. Big thanks to Alton Brown of the Food Network, for always knowing how to make some Good Eats (and for creating this recipe). I'm only listing the directions for the ribeye, but an easy solution for the side is to just toss some asparagus spears with a touch of olive oil, salt and pepper, then spread out on a cookie sheet, and roast in the oven (while your steak is cooking) for about 10 mins, and voila!

Ingredients

• 1 boneless rib eye steak, 1 1/2-inch thick
• Canola oil to coat
• Kosher salt and ground black pepper

Directions

Place 10 to 12-inch cast iron skillet in oven and heat oven to 500 degrees. Bring steak(s) to room temperature. (I don't have a cast iron skillet, so I use a non-stick pan with metal handles that is approved for use in the oven.)


When oven reaches temperature, remove pan and place on range over high heat. Coat steak lightly with oil and season both sides with a generous pinch of salt. (I season my steaks ahead of time. Another good tip is to take your steaks out of the refrigerator at least one hour before cooking; it makes the meat super tender!) Grind on black pepper to taste. (I also like to add a dash of garlic powder and onion powder for good measure.)


Immediately place steak in the middle of hot, dry pan. Cook 30 seconds without moving. Turn with tongs and cook another 30 seconds, then put the pan straight into the oven for 2 minutes. (*Don't use a fork!* All of the juices will run out, and you'll be left with a dry steak. Nobody likes dry meat, amiright?) Flip steak and cook for another 2 minutes. (This time is for medium rare steaks. If you prefer medium, add a minute or longer to both of the oven turns.)


Remove steak from pan, cover loosely with foil, and rest for at least 2 minutes. (This allows all of the yummy juices to absorb back into the steak before you serve them. This is possibly the most important step of the recipe.)

That's it, folks. Now, put it in your belly! 

Give this recipe a whirl - if you're looking for a quick fix for dinner, or you're looking to impress a mother-in-law, current/future wife, or potential husband/man of your dream/future father of your future children - this recipe never disappoints. Happy cooking from your own resident gourmet goddess!

Until next time, my dears...

These are My Confessions...

It's time for a bit of a proper introduction to the "True Confessions of a Real Housewife of Atlanta." But what, exactly, is a "true confession?" Confessions can be different things to different people. A confession could mean letting one of those sneaky little skeletons out of the closet, and divulging a long-guarded secret. Confession could mean sitting opposite a priest in an actual confessional, listing all of your sins, apologizing, getting some penance homework, repeating an Act of Contrition, and [hopefully] receiving absolution from the aforementioned priest. (Well, it would only mostly mean that if you are Catholic, Protestant, Lutheran, Anglican, or Mormon. But, I digress.) Confession could also imply that you were arrested for committing a crime, and that you eventually tired of the dark, musty, interrogation room, with the bright lights being shined into your eyes, and the grumpy brute of a detective shouting, "Where were you on the night of May 5th?!?" in your face, spraying you with drops of spittle, and refusing to let you use the restroom, even though you asked very politely (for a criminal). So you finally gave in, walked said detective through every tedious detail of your no-doubt heinous crime, and then he handed you a legal pad and a pencil to "now write the whole thing down."*

The point is, the word confession has a lot of heavy connotations. But the thing is, it doesn't have to be that deep. A confession doesn't have to be an open window into the darkest corners of your soul. It can just be something that you admit, or acknowledge. Yes, it's that easy. Dictionary.com defines "confession" as follows:

So, this brings us back full circle (love it when that happens!) to this blog. What exactly was going through this crazy mind of mine when I decided to create this blog? Well, I definitely was not thinking about Confessions, in the Usher sense (even though he is a fellow ATLien). Fortunately, I have no future baby mama concerns with my chick on the side who is three months pregnant and says she's keeping it. Additionally, seeing as to how I'm (a) not Catholic (or any of those other religions that practice the formal confession of sins), or (b) guilty of committing any crimes, I think I was thinking more along the lines of a combination of the first and third definitions. This blog is my attempt, not at total transparency ... but at a little insight into the lifestyles of the not-so-rich and not-so-famous and the not-at-all-scripted reality television show that is my life. 

...And so I offer you my confessions, all true and from the heart (however black and dismal it may feel that day) of a legitimate, REAL housewife (although less-than-enthused over the current title ... because I'd much rather be working than doing housework, which is what my life, it appears, has been regulated to ... besides blogging, a healthy amount of Facebok stalking (because yes, there is a level of Facebook stalking that graduates you from morbidly curious to full-on creeper), and just being overall fabulous, of course) of Atlanta (who just happens to love all things Housewives (especially you, Andy Cohen)). Hopefully you'll find things that make you laugh, things that pique your interest, things you want to do, things you want to put in your belly, things you have to have, and sometimes just some things that make you go "hmmm." But be warned, the confessions aren't always going to be "confessions" in the typical sense; sometimes you're just going to get little gems like, "I like rice. A lot." (True confession.) Perhaps "true confessions..." is a bit of a dramatic title for what I'm trying to accomplish, here ... but dramatic's kind of my style. 

What are some of your true confessions? I'd love to hear 'em! Until next time, kiddos ... hugs and fake air kisses from your favorite Atl homemaker!**

*Whew. That one got away from me a little bit. What can I say? I watch a lot of crime shows. But really, have you ever wondered why they make them go through the whole story before they hand them the legal pad? If I ever commit a crime for which I confess, I'm going to tell them that I would like my legal pad immediately. Then I can write it down, and they can read it for themselves, then get back to me with any questions. Because my time as a criminal would obviously be very valuable.

**Do people still use the term "homemaker?" I rather like the sound of "homemaker" better than that of "housewife." To me, homemaker implies that I alone make the home. As if the home just wouldn't be the same without me. That it couldn't live without me; that the thought of me leaving the home sends it spiraling into a bender filled with country music, cheap whiskey, geoffries, and furry walls. I am a homemaker. I complete my house; I had it at hello. That sounds so much more attractive than housewife, doesn't it? Then again, "The Real Homemakers of Atlanta" just doesn't quite have the same ring to it.