Monday, December 31, 2012

Admired... Shamelessly So.

I have a friend whom I admire.  Not only is he an impossibly talented writer/blogger, but he is responsible for introducing me to his wonderful wife, who in turn, introduced me to her two friends.  The four of us have become the best of friends and every day I am thankful I have them in my life.  They accept me for all of my flaws and love me for who I am. They also get me into loads of trouble, convinced me it was a good idea for everyone at a party to do jello shots out of my belly button and just this weekend, helped me drink most of the alcohol in Rhode Island to celebrate my bravery as I left a horrible situation and entered a new chapter in my life.  They are diamonds in the rough. 

While I admire my friend for his life partner choice, I also admire him for other reasons.  He is not afraid to be who he is and write about what he believes in.  For as long has I've known him, he has tackled the tough subjects and controversial topics which have affected his life.  He has covered abortion, the death of a child, depression, politics, the harassment of his parents and other heavy topics.  He has written his unfiltered thoughts down with unapologetic honesty and shared it with the masses.  He's received hate mail and threats. He's made his wife angry - once enough that she threw something at his head - and has annoyed his friends on numerous occasions. But never, in the past 4 years that I've known him, he has never been ashamed of who he is and what he stands for. That is to be admired and respected.

I write under a pen name.  I don't see it as an act of cowardliness, but more of a safety measure.  I write about sex.  I get some interesting mail.  Some of it can be a little sketchy.  Sometimes I think the writer could be a good candidate for "stalkers anonymous."  I like sex alot.  But I do like to chose my partner and I would like to be the only one who posts nude photos of myself on line. (No, I'm not going to do that.  Don't even ask. Not for all the bacon in the world). I'm really a very private person who likes to entertain the masses with little snippets of my life. So sue me.  It makes me happy.

Today, I found out there are a bunch of people in my professional life that know about my little blog and Facebook page.  In fact, they've known for years.  How they found out is unimportant and the source is next to ridiculous.  But, they know and they think it's awful.  They've been sipping coffee with me all while knowing the scorching details of my sex life, my drinking exploits with friends and every other personal, heartbreaking and utterly sinful thing I have written about.  Everything.  When someone told me this fact, I was shocked and slightly horrified.  But then I felt something that scared me the most; I felt ashamed.

Now, we all know the saying "If you don't want anyone to know about it, don't put it on the internet".  More people have been fired, divorced, dumped, humiliated and scorned by a simple status post on Facebook.  We all have been there.  You can't take it back. Even if you delete it, someone has already seen it. It's etched in stone.  Everything I've written is up for the world to see. I cannot hide it.  Even if I delete it, more than likely, there is a copy somewhere. 

I am proud of what I've written. The momentary feeling of shame was quickly replaced by anger then pride.  I like what I've written.  It makes me happy.  Many of my ramblings may be silly and mindless. You may find them disgusting, stupid, insulting, ridiculous and poorly written. But, for every person who has a negative thing to say, I can find 5 people who think I'm brilliant, talented, funny, thoughtful, honest and sexy. I have been overwhelmed at the passionate, positive responses to my posts. While I write for myself, it is fun to think I write for others as well.  Someday I hope I'm admired by someone the way I admire my friend.  Coincidentally, I met him because of my blog.  If I had never started to write, I would have never met his wife.  Then I would have never met her friends. There would have been no jello shots and the wonderful night in Rhode Island would have never happened.

It's funny how life works out.


Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Wisdom of My Ages


I was just running through some old Twitter postings (yes you should follow me on Twitter @Utterlysinful.)  I gotta say, I'm a funny bitch.
  • Up close pictures of a penis are never attractive.  EVER.  Yes, even when manscaped.
  • A warm toilet seat should not be trusted.  You never know who was there before you and what they did to stay so long they managed to warm a piece of plastic.
  • "Butt-load" load is an acceptable unit of measurement.  Still not sure if it's metric or standard.
  • Bouncy castles are ageless.
  • You never see a person with a hot body streaking. Sadly, there is a website dedicated to these idiots.
  • Office assistants were put on this earth for me torture and sexually harass.
  • People who don't masturbate don't know what they're missing.
  • Do not wear a shirt that says "Free hugs" if you don't want me to try.
  • Remember when you hated spankings?
  • The number "69" will always make me laugh.  Every time.
  • Bacon makes everything better.
  • So does coffee, cake and things made with cheese.
  • Standing up for yourself is awesome. Always be brave.  Always be ballsy.
  • You're still thinking about masturbation, aren't you.
  • People are all pissed about Instagram having the right to sell their pictures.  We should all start taking crotch pictures and see what happens then.  (See first item)
  • I will always stay at a Doubletree because they give you a cookie when you check in.  Best marketing idea EVER!
  • Stalking someone is a sign of flattery.
  • Underwear is overrated.
  • The best part about airports it the ability to drink at anytime of the day.
  • Some days its fun to rip off the mask and show people what a true psychological mess you really are.
  • It's fun to mark mundane voicemail messages with "Urgent" just because.
  • I had my first french kiss in a movie theater, watching "Pretty Woman".  Ironic.
  • What your staff doesn't know, won't hurt them.
  • Never work for your in-laws.  It's like working for Satan and he comes over on the weekends for brunch and makes comments about your life choices..
  • Everything in your fridge looks delicious after 4 glasses of wine.
  • If you're ever on the phone with a chatty tech support person, tell them you have to pee.  Makes them work faster.
  • You also believe you can cook anything in your fridge after 4 glasses of wine.
  • Yup.  Still thinking about masturbation.
  • Never be afraid to order bizarre food combinations.  It's fun to freak people out when you admit to liking a sandwich with breaded eggplant, bacon, mayo, lettuce and avocado.
  • When you hug someone, wrap one of your leg around their legs in a "leg hug".  Totally freaks them out.  You can try it with the t-shirt guy too.
  • Um....masturbation.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

I Think It Might Be A Little Depressed


Quite recently, I had a friend call me a nympho.  I can hear you all sighing a proverbial "Duh", under your breath.  It's OK.  He hadn't seen me in awhile.  Sometimes people forget.  But, what he said is true.  I am.

Nympho: from nymphomanic from nymphomania: Excessive sexual desire in and behavior by a female.

Yup, guilty as Charlie Sheen in a whorehouse.

I love sex.  Sex with a partner, sex with myself, talking about sex, thinking about sex, dreaming about sex, watching sex....you get it.  I'm as crazy as a horny teenage boy who finds his older brothers stash of skin mags.

Buuuuuuuut, things haven't been all rosy, romantic and lovey-dovey lately in my life.  In fact, I'm currently not speaking to the person that is suppose to be giving me the sex.  By speaking, I mean having normal, human conversations.  Screaming matches?  That is something we've been having regularly and I have to say we may reach Eminem and Kim Mathers level.  We're getting very good at it. So we're not having sex.  Not even make up sex.  Everyone's had dry spells before.  And what do we do, Lovers?  We reach for our favorite box of goodies.  We keep ourselves satisfied until the storm blows over and we are free to fornicate again.

Well, nobody relayed that information to my crotch during this whole ordeal.  My brain must be spending all its power working on my lack of appetite (you know I'm depressed when I don't want to eat) that the naughty messages were being stopped around my spleen or something.  I've got nothing going on down there. Not even a twinge, twitch or tickle. I saw a picture of a shirtless VinDiesel and nothing.  Nothing!!  Usually the sight of him makes me go crazy and I'm breaking out the big toys.  I've tried everything.  I've Googled every hot actor with "shirtless" proceeding his name in the subject line.  I even tried some Salma Hayek for the hell of it.  I'm pretty sure this little ordeal hasn't made me line up for the other team, but Salma is usually good for a quick hit.

Nothing.  Nada.  Ziltch.  Zero. Dwiddly Squat. No Dice.

I have come to the conclusion that my VaJay must be depressed too.  Something must be wrong if it's not bothering me constantly to put things in it.  The first sign should have been when I wore sweatpants to the mall last week.  I know it's not against the law to do that.  But, I usually make the outfit cute.  Last week's ensemble told everyone at the mall my Vajay was depressed.  I'm pretty sure it let everyone know I'm boycotting sleep too.  I looked so bad the make up ladies at Macy's didn't bother me.  They're probably still gossiping about the girl with the scary hair, bad makeup and depressed vagina.

So I'm wearing sweatpants in public, I'm not having sex and my VaJay is on strike.  I'm still not a Lindsay Lohen level.  I may be dangling around the Britney Spears zone. Maybe more towards the Tara Reid. I've passed Amanda Bynes ranking but did not chose the driving option.  I did a David Hasselholf last week with a cheeseburger - but I did not do the drinking before hand.

Thank God I'm terrified of needles or I would have tattooed something ridiculous by now. But, not on my VaJay. Maybe I should.  It might wake her up.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

I Will Never Have The Right Curves

I like bread.  Let me rephrase that.  I LOVE bread.  Crispy, chewing, savoury bread.  I like to dip it, dredge it, toast it, butter it, and fill it with french onion soup.  I feel sexy when I have my hands kneading a pillowy soft mountain of dough.  I feel comfort when I pull a loaf out of the oven and it perfumes the air with soft, homey fragrances.  What does bread have to do with curves?  Well, just about everything.

I read every magazine having to do with cooking or fitness. (I read People too. I'm just not ready to admit it in public).  My cooking magazines are lined up in pretty boxes, by date of course, on the top shelf of the desk in my home office.  I refer to them constantly for recipes or ideas.  My fitness magazines get recycled at the local magazine swap after I've combed thru them.  I tear out articles to follow up on exercise ideas.  These pages are currently in a dusty pile on my desk. I'll get to them, I swear.  I just have to finish the latest article on pumpkin bread with caramel frosting in Fine Cooking.  The fitness magazines inspire me. They make me want to run 15 miles a day and go to yoga.  Most of them have pictures of healthy, strong women.  Except for this:
"Do you want Rachel Bilson's curves it says".  Sure.  Where are they?  The only curve I see is her boob.  Everything else is stick like and pointy. Are those the curves you are talking about?  No thankyouverymuch.

I know Rachel Bilson is not a  model.  But she could be.  I'm not jealous.  I feel sorry for her.  I feel sorry for those women who think she is the idea of "Women's Health".  She looks like a bobble head doll. ( I know this is an old addition of WH but I'm catching up on my reading now that I'm unemployed)  I get that every women has a specific body type.  Some people will never have voluptuous curves like my gorgeous friend Sully who has breasts to DIE for! Some people will never have a willowy figure like my friend Bonnie.  It will never, ever happen. Their bodies aren't made to be the opposite of what they are.  So what do my beloved girls do about it?  They embrace themselves and pull out the sexy.

I recently had a conversation with my guy BFF.  We were talking about sex, (I know. You're shocked) My BFF looked at me and said quite simply, "All of these women think they need to slim down to nothing.  It's like bouncing on a pile of sticks.  I feel like I'm going to break them."  I nodded sympathetically while I munched on a plate of chili fries.  "Finally, I was with this girl who took care of herself and had a little something extra.  It was amazing."

Straight from a guys mouth.  Made me feel good.  Granted society is not adopted that option quite yet, but I'm a believer.  Just the other day someone told me smaller boobs were coming back in style.  I'm planning a parade if that happens and I will be topless.  But, I digress.

Stop killing yourself to look like the curves you think you should have.  Be healthy.  Be strong.  Be sexy. Be yourself.  Have some bread.  It looks good on you.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

It's A Hard Days Night....

I'm on Day 10 of a 26 day working binge.  Not fun and it makes me a cranky bitch to boot.  No one wants to be around me.  I don't even want to be around me.  I start to closely resemble Meryl Streep in "A Devil Wears Prada", but without the fabulous clothes, chic hair or tidy office.  Instead, I'm pretty sure I'm wearing my thong backwards, I don't know when I last washed my hair and my office looks like we just survived a 7.5 earthquake.  It's tough being the H.B.C (Head Bitch in Charge) during a big case.  The minions are tiptoeing around me. I'm sure they can't wait until this is all over and I leave for my vacation on Nov 9th. I saw it written on someones calendar with a smiley face.

As you all know, I cook when I'm stressed.  The Husband came home last night to find me at the stove with every burner going at full steam.  He gave me a peck on the cheek and ran upstairs to safety.  I made this fabulous soup to calm my nerves.  It's packed with lots of healthy junk and smells divine.  I brought it for lunch today and I hope it makes everyone starving when I heat it up in the breakroom microwave.



Cannellini Bean and Squash Stew
Borrowed from "The Sonoma Diet Cookbook" 

1 Tbs extra virgin olive oil
1 chopped onion
6 cloves of garlic, grated
1 Tbs Sweet Hungarian paprika
28 oz chicken broth
3 cups 1 inch cubed butternut squash
1 14 oz can diced tomatoes, undrained
1 Tbs chopped fresh rosemary
2 14 oz cans of cannellini beans (white kidney beans)
1 Tbs chopped fresh thyme
Kosher salt
black pepper
shaved Manchego or Parmesan cheese

In a dutch oven heat oil over med heat.  Add onions and cook for 5 min or until tender

Add garlic and paprika cook for 2 min more.

Add chicken broth, squash, undrained tomatoes, and rosemaryBring to boil then reduce heat to simmer, cover and cook for 15 min or until squash is tender

Drain and rinse beans, add beans, parsley and thyme and cook uncovered for 10 mins at low simmer
Shave cheese over individual bowls.




Monday, October 1, 2012

Gaaaaaaarlic Zuppa for me


I have a thing for soup.  As soon as the temperature hits 50, I'm at the stove.  Here is one of my favs.  Traditionally, this soup is served to young children and the elderly in Italy.  Kinda like chicken soup is our comfort food for the sick, this is the Italians version of get better quick. 
 I made this last night and it was heaven with a glass of vino and a spinach salad.     I got to enjoy the after effects on my run this morning.  Once I worked up a good sweat, I smelled like a loaf of garlic bread trotting down the street.  After a shower, I'm pretty sure I've sweated out all the remaining cloves.  This is the ultimate in comfort and surprisingly light.
Zuppa di Aglio Fresco (Fresh Garlic Soup)
(Courtesy of Food to Die For by Patrica Cornwall)
4 tablespoons olive oil
1 1/2 cups finely chopped carrots
10 cloves of garlic, peeled and smashed
4 cups homemade chicken stock, or canned chicken broth
1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
1 bay leaf
1/4 cup dry sherry
3 extra-large egg yolks
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
2 tablespoons chopped fresh Italian parsley
salt and freshly ground pepper
4 slices ( 1 inch thick) day-old sourdough, multi-grain, or country-style bread
In a 3 qt saucepan, heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil; add the carrots and garlic. Cook over medium-high heat, stirring frequently, for 3 to 5 minutes, or until tender but not brown.
Stir in the chicken stock, thyme, and bay leaf. Bring the mixture to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to low and simmer, covered, for 30 minutes. Discard the bay leaf. in a blender or food processor, puree the soup in several batches, transferring the puree to a large bowl. Return the pureed mixture to the saucepan; stir in the sherry.
In a small bowl, whisk together the egg yolks, and the remaining 2 tablespoons oil; whisk in the Parmigiano-Reggiano until blended. Gradually whisk 1/4 cup of the soup into the yolk mixture; whisk mixture into the soup. Heat the soup over medium-low heat, stirring constantly for 8 to 10 minutes, until the soup thickens (do not boil or the soup will curdle). Stir in the parsley; season to taste with salt and freshly ground pepper. Remove the soup from the heat.
To serve the soup, place a slice of bread in each bowl, ladle the soup over the bread and serve immediately.
4 tablespoons olive oil
1 1/2 cups finely chopped carrots
10 cloves of garlic, peeled and smashed
4 cups homemade chicken stock, or canned chicken broth
1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
1 bay leaf
1/4 cup dry sherry
3 extra-large egg yolks
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
2 tablespoons chopped fresh Italian parsley
salt and freshly ground pepper
4 slices ( 1 inch thick) day-old sourdough, multi-grain, or country-style bread
In a 3 qt saucepan, heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil; add the carrots and garlic. Cook over medium-high heat, stirring frequently, for 3 to 5 minutes, or until tender but not brown.
Stir in the chicken stock, thyme, and bay leaf. Bring the mixture to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to low and simmer, covered, for 30 minutes. Discard the bay leaf. in a blender or food processor, puree the soup in several batches, transferring the puree to a large bowl. Return the pureed mixture to the saucepan; stir in the sherry.
In a small bowl, whisk together the egg yolks, and the remaining 2 tablespoons oil; whisk in the Parmigiano-Reggiano until blended. Gradually whisk 1/4 cup of the soup into the yolk mixture; whisk mixture into the soup. Heat the soup over medium-low heat, stirring constantly for 8 to 10 minutes, until the soup thickens (do not boil or the soup will curdle). Stir in the parsley; season to taste with salt and freshly ground pepper. Remove the soup from the heat.
To serve the soup, place a slice of bread in each bowl, ladle the soup over the bread and serve immediately.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Married Woman Seeks Boyfriend


My husband is fabulous.  Truly, he is.  Nearly five years of wedded bliss – 13 years together in total if you want to be accurate.  We’re the best of friends, we spend lazy Sunday’s going for long drives to the beach while drinking fancy coffee drinks and the sex….well….he could teach a few porn stars some new tricks.  In short, we’re a great pair.  Happy as two peas in the proverbial pod.

But, as in many marriages – maybe yours too – there often blooms a need for something more.  The desire starts out innocently.  Maybe a fleeting glance at the couple seated next to you in a restaurant.  Then, the want becomes more powerful.  You feel jealously when you spy a man and woman happily shopping together.  There are certain things your husband won’t do with you.  He seems less than interested in your latest outfit or doesn’t want to try out the new sushi restaurant.  He doesn’t care about your best friend’s latest boy toy and he has no idea what happened in the last episode of the Kardashians.  He’s still home for dinner every night and the sex is great, but you need more.  More.  More as in you desire the attention of another man. A man who cares about your new pair of strappy sandals.  A man who is proud to have you on his arm as you stroll in to the new coffee shop with the sexy baristas.  A man who will watch Ice Loves Coco and coo about Spartacus.  A new man. That’s what you need.

Well, Lovers.  I need a new man.  A new boyfriend.  I need the number one accessory of the married woman:  The gay boyfriend.

Every gay man needs a straight woman in his life and every straight woman needs a gay man.  They go together like Manolos and Carrie Bradshaw, like caramel and chocolate, like sprinkles and cupcakes, like cherries and whipped cream.  My friend idol Sarah has two.  They get pedicures together, bitch about men, go shopping and cook fabulous meals; all this without the chick drama that usually befouls a normal day with your girlfriend.  The gay boyfriend never competes when you're cruising the guys…..the two of you are usually on different taste levels. And he is always available to play “What the Fuck Does She Think She’s Wearing” as you sit peacefully at the bar, drinking Merlot and eating something yummy.

So, I’m advertising for a boyfriend.  Age is of no importance.  He must be into gourmet cooking, movies and long walks on the beach.  He must be willing to dish on his hot sex life and occasionally let me film it. He must love coffee, bacon, cake and think I’m enormously clever.  And above all, he must agree that if we ever see VinDiesel walking on the street, I get first dibs.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

The German Cooks Italian


As part of my new found quest for fun (AKA I-Just-Turned-35-And-Holy-Sh*t-I-Haven’t-Done-Half-The-Stuff-I-Want-To-Do), I signed myself and The Husband up for a cooking demo at the Aqua Grill in Sandwich.  On the last Wednesday of every month, Chef Gert Rausch transforms his dining room into a kitchen and invites 65 guests to sit tableside while he dazzles them with his 35 years of culinary wisdom and fabulous personality. You leave with a full belly and all the recipes to make at home.  His past demos have included, Cajun & Creole, Aphrodisiacs, South Eastern Asia Cuisine, Popular German Cuisine and How to Cook Native Sea Bass. 

This past Wednesday was Italian.  The menu was simple but intriguing:

Cicheti (appetizers)
Baked Artichokes Wrapped in Bacon
Deep Fried Mozzarella Mini Sandwiches
Arugula, Shave Parmesan & Bristol Mini Sandwichs

Pasta Corso (pasta course)
Linguini con le cozze
(Linguini with mussels)
Ravioli co aragosta e spinacia
(Lobster and spinach ravioli)
Rigatoni al Ragu di Game Gallina
(Rigatonis with Cornish game hen ragu)


Artichokes Wrapped in Bacon and Deep Fried Mozzarella
Mini Sandwiches. Amazing!
I scored an excellent seat upon arrival – right at the front, closest to the demo.  If I could, I would have sat on the demo table.  I’m that interested.  TH and I munched on the appetizers and watched while adorable Chef Gert flirted with the ladies.  Guests greeted each other like old friends.  It seemed like this was a monthly activity for most of the folks in the room.



Chef Gert with his assistant Daniel. Daniel was a hottie.
As an added bonus, Martignetti Companies had been invited to the party and was conducting a wine pairing with each course.  We were being used as guinea pigs and would be deciding on the newest wine to be added to the Aqua Grille’s already impressive wine list.  I did not mind offering up my palate for such a worthy cause!



The first course was a Linguini con le Cozze.  I was nervous.  I’d never tried mussels. 
.
Well, what can I say?  It was gorgeous!  The pasta was a perfect al denti.  The mussels were delicately cooked with a garlic anchovies, chilies, oregano and white wine.  This introduction couldn’t have been arranged better.  I did find myself wanting a bit more heat and garlic.  I don’t think it would have taken too much from the mussels and would have added a bit more zip to the dish.

The wine served with this dish was a Californian Pinot Grigio.  It was like drinking white grape juice.  Did not get my vote.


The second course was Rigatoni al Ragu di Game Gallina. This was a cold winter’s night; sitting on the couch, in front of a fire with your loved one while dressed in your pj’s tucked into a bowl.  I wanted snuggle up to TH while I dug into this dish.  It was comfort mixed with the complex and deep flavors of game hen and the nutty parmesan reggiano shaved on top.  I got the feeling most people get when they love a certain dish: I was sad when my bowl was empty.

The wine served was a William Hill Chardonnay.  It is a “restaurant only” wine.  It stood up nicely to the richness of the dish, but really didn’t have much of a finish.  I wanted more oak. (BTW…this was the overall winner of the vote)


The last dish was a Ravioli con aragosta e spinacia.   I’m not normally a huge fan of the lobster ravioli in cream sauce.  I find it too heavy and it never leaves room for dessert.  Chef Gerts ravioli was none of that.  The champagne cream sauce was light, the ravioli flavorful and the surprise garnish of warmed chopped tomatoes and parsley tied it up nicely.  There would definitely have been room for dessert.

The wine served was an Edna Valley Pinot Noir. Many in the crowd were shocked at the pairing of a red wine with a seafood dish.  But, it was explained (I already knew, thankyouverymuch), that the richness of the cream and lobster would play nicely with the spicy Pinot.  This had my vote. I lost.  But, I’m buying a bottle for myself instead.

The experience was excellent. Chef Gert put Emeril Lagasse to shame with his quick wit and sweet smile. The only downer was the group of women cackling behind us the entire time.  Poor Gert doesn’t have a bullhorn for a voice and these bitches kept taking about their marital problems and such.  Thankfully, I had a saucy gal and her mother sitting beside The Husband and me.  She didn’t think twice when she turned around and told them to shut the hell up!  I love ya, girl!  Wished I’d gotten you’re number.  We could have torn it up together.

The Aqua Grille on the canal in Sandwich.  Got there, see Gert, get some good grub and learn a thing or two. Ciao, Lovers!