my enchiladas are the best. and don’t try talking politics with me.
What time is it where you are? Ready for drinkies? I am going to have a glass of red wine, and we can talk. ‘K? K. (It’s a Bonterra Merlot. Niiiiiiiiiiiiiice. Thank you, R from Seattle and Chicago.)
“Don’t drink and drink.”
— Wacky Mommy
I am having a life chock-full of fun over here, Internets. Cleaning, cooking, ironing. Working, picking up kids, shopping. Sleeping? Exercising? Working, putting off my online class ’til October. We have the garden to harvest, the patio furniture to bring in and let’s not even talk about the political season and the conversations I have been having with various political types who show up on my porch.
Me: “It’s a private vote.”
Them: “Would you mind telling us how you would vote, were you to vote today?”
Me: “It’s a private vote. We vote privately in this country.”
Them, walking away: “Jeez, a lot of anger!”
Me, answering the phone just now as I typed this: “Hullo?”
Him: “Hi! This is Ryan from Opinion Research!!! How ya doing this evening?”
Me: “Ryan, I have not the words.”
I KNOW. Let’s write this as a Thursday 13! Woot! Fun. This is the 164th edition. OK, ready. When the going gets tough, the tough make enchiladas. My recipe goes like this:
1) Run into ex-flame from twenty years ago at the park.
2) He is still a flirt.
3) I am no longer a flirt. I am happily married girl. Bonus points: I look somewhat presentable.
4) He happens to be divorced now, with a 12-year-old daughter. He gets all glowy when he talks about her. I show off my ring, brag about my husband, introduce him to our cute kids, my sweet mom, who happens to be at the park with us, we exchange current info (re: jobs/politics/where we’re living now/etc.).
5) He is saddened. He is hiding behind his sunglasses, but I can tell. Or maybe he’s just stoned, it could go either way. I will say, eh, he appears to be saddened. By the ring, by the news that I am not a desperate housewife, by the fact that my mom wants to set him up with R, my girlfriend from Seattle. “Only she’s leaving soon — back to Chicago,” she tells him. “How do you feel about Chicago?”
6) He says he cannot commit to Chicago. He also cannot commit to further conversation. He is there with a friend and runs off to chase after the friend’s kid, who has grown weary of adult conversation. The friend is… somewhere. Not with the kid.
7) We leave.
8) I tell my husband, I ran into my ex-flame. He asks, why have I never heard of him? I say, I blogged about him once:
12) I learned about racism when I fell in love with a man (black) and another man (brown). I learned about racism when I was on jury duty and they asked us, one by one, if we’d ever been involved in an interracial relationship. If you had been, you were disqualified.
“Did you notice that people stared at you when you walked down the street?” the lawyer asked.
“Yes,” I said, “But I just thought it was because we were so good looking.”
Hmm. Yes. He used to call me Nance the Cat cuz I have cat eyes. He may have broken my heart. If that did happen, let’s just say — I got over it, but it may have taken a while. I may never talk about him because I try to pretend I never knew him.
My husband: “Did you sleep with him?”
Me: “Yeah. But just for a year.”
(It may have been closer to a year and a half. Or two.)
9) Back to our Thursday 13: It made me love my husband extra, running into this ex-flame. Because my husband is the person I was waiting for my whole life. He doesn’t play games, he’s not a run-around. He never kept me waiting by the phone. Ever. He still doesn’t. He is the reason why God or some higher power or whoever kept throwing these roadblocks in my way, trying to change my path. Steve and I needed to get to each other. That’s that. So I decided I would fix him enchiladas for dinner. Recipe follows:
10) Pick a lot of fresh tomatoes from the garden. Wash them, then cut into fours and puree in blender with some water, bouillon cubes, dried chile peppers (2 or 3). Simmer sauce for awhile, with cumin, vegetable oil, salt and pepper. Realize that it’s 5:30 and hello, that is dinner time for most households. But not ours. Pull two packages of corn tortillas from fridge. Leave them in wrappers so they don’t dry out. (A wet towel also works.)
11) Shred a lot of sharp cheddar cheese, find some cans of sliced olives, heat up some refried beans in microwave. (I thin with a little water to make them easier to work with.) Everything is put into bowls on counter, ready to go. Sauce is not ready. “The ingredients need to marry!” says my husband. He would know. In the meantime, feed kids mac and cheese. Again. Husband puts kids to bed, then reappears to help assemble enchiladas. I made enough for two 9 x 13 pans (we froze one). Spoon a fair amount of sauce in bottom of each pan.
12) Dip a tortilla in sauce. Spoon beans and a sprinkling of onions onto tortilla. Add a little cheese and a little sauce. Repeat until you run out of beans. Make the rest cheese, onions and sauce. Ladle sauce over tops of pans. Sprinkle olives on top. Sprinkle rest of grated cheese on top. Bake at 375 for half an hour, until browned and bubbly.
13) Eat the entire pan, just the two of you. Ha! They were too good we couldn’t help it.
Bon appetit! And honestly — here’s to unanswered prayers.
WM
, 
.
This post is a wild ride. I love it! You are a character.
September 24th, 2008 | #
Sandy C. — just don’t say I’m a pistol, okay?
September 24th, 2008 | #
How about a ‘pistola’? Just kidding. So I was thinking, we could just skip the entire McCain thing and write in Palin for president. Ya know because I think she can do so much for us wimmen folk. We obviously can’t be trusted with decisions about our bodies and stuff. We best be staying home just a’raisin many babes and a’votin. So let’s write her in and send her straight to the top of the heap. Screw experience. I’ve been on the PTA and I know that is experience enough.
September 24th, 2008 | #
Oh wait. I was NOT supposed to talk politics, eh? Geez, sorry I misread that.
September 24th, 2008 | #
PSS: The entire prior comment is not sponsered nor endorsed by anyone. It may or may not reflect the views of Vixen. No politicos were injured in the posting of the prior comment. In fact, the only thing it proves is that Vixen may have finally taken complete leave of her mind.
But that is okay, because who needs a mind when you have a house with a YARD.
September 24th, 2008 | #
Vixen, la pistola y el corazon, that’s me. You’ve got a yard, you’re good. You can run barefoot through the grass.
September 24th, 2008 | #
Fun to the last bite! Happy TT.
September 24th, 2008 | #
What a list – or story – or is it a confessional?
SJR
The Pink Flamingo
September 24th, 2008 | #
SJR — all of it.
September 24th, 2008 | #
Julie — makes you want to have some enchiladas, doesn’t it?
September 24th, 2008 | #
sorry, I’m still nauseous from hearing Ritchie Valens singing “We Belong Together” while reading the top part. I can’t think of eating now.
lord, woman. . . . .
September 24th, 2008 | #
Vixen can’t run in the grass in her backyard because her backyard is full of gravel. Muhahaha.
The enchiladas sound yummy. And I love it when you run into your ex (whether it’s a boyfriend or friend or even boss) and your life is better than theirs. It’s the best sort of revenge, because you weren’t even trying. Awesome.
September 24th, 2008 | #
Gosh I miss you. And your enchiladas, which I have never actually tasted. I’m working on an email to you. I will finish it soon. At least I’m blogging ;)
September 25th, 2008 | #
Now that’s a TT worth reading. Made me smile and the enchilada recipe sounds wonderful. You know I’m going to have to make them tonight! :)
September 25th, 2008 | #
What a fun TT! I enjoyed it. Way better than mine this week. All about my kids hating me because I have to make them share rooms. Oh, that horror!!!!
September 25th, 2008 | #
I think the whole world needs some of your enchiladas….everyone’s mouths would be busy chewing, smiling and not a political, nasty, mean word would be be spoken, because your enchiladas are magic that way
September 25th, 2008 | #
I’m with you on unanswered prayers. I used to pray that “he” would call and he always disappointed me. The man that God sent to me was waaay better. He doesn’t disappoint and is everything I ever wanted. Love your tt – took me back.
September 25th, 2008 | #
What a hillarious, somewhat dizzying TT! I loved it. The enchiladas sound yummy too.
September 25th, 2008 | #
Okay, I am going to do a Thursday Thirteen now! I had a black boyfriend, but here it’s normal and fashionable so no biggie. Sean is Afghan/Indian/portuguese/Scottish, very VERY sexay. Trinis have great mixes. The whole Enchilada! Ha!
September 25th, 2008 | #