What is up with me and the recipes? Cold weather makes me want to cook, I guess.

MANICOTTI, HOW WE LOVE YOU

1) Boil manicotti noodles for about 8 minutes — don’t let them get too done. Put a little oil in the water so they don’t stick. No salt! Drain, rinse with cold water, set aside.

2) While they’re cooking, beat four eggs in a bowl; mix in one carton (16 oz.) cottage cheese with one carton (15 oz.) ricotta cheese; mix in one bag defrosted frozen spinach. (I never remember to defrost it — OK to microwave for a short amount of time.) Add a little salt and pepper, and a small amount of nutmeg (my secret ingredient). My mother-in-law gave me 3 or 4 fresh nutmeg cloves (nuts?? whatever they’re called) for Christmas a couple years ago — I’m still using them. I bought a tiny Microplaner and it is so cool to have fresh nutmeg. Great with eggnog and in cookies. Not that I’m drinking eggnog. Or eating cookies. I use my parmesan Microplaner to grate in a fair amount of fresh parmesan and then stir it all up. Although really, I think this is too much cheese.

3) Slice a pound to a pound-and-a-half of mozzarella into thin strips. (Or thick, if you want to make everyone happy with gooey layer of cheese.)

4) Time to assemble: Use fresh or canned marinara (I have my own, frozen of course, Martha-in-training that I am. We had a bumper crop of Romas this year). Make sure you have at least two to four cups on hand. I cover bottom of baking dish with sauce so noodles won’t stick, then stuff noodles with ricotta mixture. (OK to cheat by tearing noodles in half lengthwise — makes it easier to assemble this way.) You can assemble it with a layer of cooked meat on top of pasta. Sweet sausage is great, or just hamburger. It’s yummy, too, with a layer of whole, fresh basil leaves on top of the pasta. (Carmela Soprano’s secret touch when she makes lasagna. And this dish really is just lasagna, with a different type of pasta.) Then cover with more sauce and spread mozzarella on top.

Jamie Oliver (the Naked Chef) likes to drizzle a small amount of the marinara on top, and not drench it. Then he uses creme fraiche in lieu of the mozzarella. I tried it this way and it was great, but my family was baffled and said, “Make it the right way.” Yeah.

Bon Appetit!

WM

Hola! ?Como estas? Have you ever held a progressive party in your neighborhood? Yeah, me neither. But five of our neighbors and the Wacky Family are going to go for it, New Year’s Day. For years we’ve been talking about a summer block party, but, you know. Some of us don’t get along as well as others of us. That is, some of us like to dance around naked and happy, and others like to spit at everyone as they walk by and criticize the way they park. More on Evil Neighbor — if you park in front of her house, she will waddle out her front door and she will tell you, “You need to move your car. You can’t park there.” It is a public street! Yet people are so scared of her evil eye they move their cars. No progressive party for Evil Neighbor. We may invite guests and encourage them to park in front of her house, though.

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Dear Mick, Keith et al.,

We need to talk. I don’t know of a nice way to say this, but you need to hang up the bag of tricks, boys, and please retire. Shauna Lyon puts it well in this week’s New Yorker, when she compares you to a corporate juggernaut and an “enduring medical miracle”:

“Can your grandfather even climb a tree, much less fall out of one, bash his head, survive, and still remember the changes on ‘Sister Morphine’?”

No, neither of my grandfathers can do this, due to the fact that they are both deceased. And not much older at their passings than you guys are at this moment. Lyon also compares you to diptheria and/or kudzu, and really, did you mean for it to come to this? No, I did not think so. But what really pushed me to write you this letter was when I read about the new documentary Martin Scorsese is filming about y’all, and that you had to hire “seventy-five dollar girls” to come sex it up a little. That they were asked to dress “trendy, sexy, hip… Women really glam it up, but not trashy… nothing too over the top and outrageous (wigs, crazy hats, etc.)…”

No wigs? No crazy hats? What the fuck is wrong with you guys? I just watched “Gimme Shelter” last week. Why, I do not know. I was running a high fever, and it seemed like a good idea. I loved your music when I was a teenager. So did my friends, and y’all were all we would listen to. I’m not talking about a five- or six-month period. I’m taking three, four years. To the point where we were planning a party and my boyfriend begged, “Please, could we possibly listen to something other than the Stones?” And we all yelled, “NO!” at him and almost wouldn’t let him party with us.

Almost. We gave in because, you know. He had all the pot. Anyway, I’ve loved you guys for a good long time now. I loved “Some Girls,” even though it was my mom’s favorite album, too, and like, how uncool is that to love the same album your ma does? I loved “One Hit to the Body” and I still listen to “Exile on Main Street” and “Sticky Fingers” over and over until my husband asks, “Please, could we possibly listen to something other than the Stones?” (Seems to be a pattern in my life.)

Anyway, I’ve seen “Gimme Shelter” probably fifty times, because I thought Tina Turner was just too fucking righteous in it, and although I didn’t like the part where the Hell’s Angels knock Marty Balin unconscious, I liked the Jefferson Airplane’s set up until that point. You want to talk sexy? Let’s talk about the Flying Burrito Brothers, and their set at Altamont. Ha! Kidding. The Flying Burrito Brothers didn’t do much for me, you know, sexually. You know who was sexy? The crowd. The guys with their fringed suede jackets. “And beatnik chicks/just wearing their smocks,” as the Beastie Boys would put it. The beads and the hats and the crazy wigs. And maybe some people who, eh, you didn’t really want to see take off their clothes went ahead and stripped, but there were enough other sexy people there that it didn’t matter.

Now, tell me — you played with Tina Turner and now you’re saying no crazy wigs? I mean, for real, what the fuck is wrong with y’all that you have to pay extras to kinda, what, prop you up? This is supposed to be a documentary, but when you’re staging things and posing people, and yadda yadda, that’s fiction, not fact.

A fact: Meredith Hunter was sexy at Altamont, with his electric green suit and his purple dress shirt, dancing with his sexy girlfriend who did indeed know how to dress, grooving on the Jefferson Airplane. He was sexy right up until the Hells Angels grabbed his gun and stabbed and kicked him to death. And then it was just God rest his soul and why the hell did I watch “Gimme Shelter” so many times? It took a fever for me to figure this out? You guys gave his mom $10,000, for losing her sweet, sexy, 18-year-old son. Is she still alive? If she is you need to give her some cash and make sure she’s set. Because how shitty is that, for 8 bazillion Stones-loving idiots like me to watch “Gimme Shelter” over and over and watch her son being killed onscreen. No one ever went to jail for that one, remember?

So please, hang it up. No crazy hats, no wigs. Just call it a day. Shidoobee.

Love,

WM

Do you stress? Yeah, me neither.

THIRTEEN THINGS I WISH I HADN’T STRESSED OUT ABOUT AS A NEW PARENT:

1) The babyproofing stage. I spaced out, didn’t get stuff baby-proofed as quickly as I should have, and chaos ensued. Now that my kids are 4 and 7, yeah, we really need all the baby-proofing I haven’t gotten rid of yet.

2) The talking. “When will she talk? What will her first word be? What if she never talks? Is there something wrong with my baby oh my gawwwwwwwwwd, wait. I think she just said ‘sock.'” Once they start talking they never stop. And once they learn to bitch at you, they never stop that, either. Then you’re thinking, “I wanted this kid to talk?”

Wacky Girl: “Why can’t I watch ‘Star Wars’? Everyone, everyone, everyone in my class has seen it. They said it is not even scary. I am too big for PBS Kids, it’s stupid. And you won’t let me watch ‘Monster House.’ And the Chucky movies. And ‘Scary Movie 3’ is supposed to be real good, but nooooo you won’t let me watch that. Or ‘Star Wars.'”

3) The nursing. It either works or it doesn’t. Bottles are fine, boobs are fine. The end.

4) The sleeping-through-the-night and the potty training. Eventually they deal.

5) Which brings us to… The projectile pooping and vomiting stage. It doesn’t last forever. Thank you, Jesus.

6) The trying-to-keep-up-with-the-Joneses phase. “Must go to playgroup. Must not miss music class again. Must go to park, even though I hate the park.” We all need to slow the hell down. My friends call me “Miss Chop-Chop” for a reason — I need to take my own advice.

7) Listening to idiots and letting them throw guilt on me like a big ol’ wet blanket. “Why doesn’t Mommy put a coat on you? You need a coat, tell Mommy.” Now I just smile and walk away. Quickly.

8) The trying to keep everyone happy phase — the husbands get along, the wives get along, the kids hate each other, but maybe they will learn to love each other? C’mon! Let’s all be happy, kids! If your kids say they don’t want to play with someone, listen to them.

9) I wouldn’t have argued with my husband so much over stupid little nothings those first few years — whether or not the baby should wear a hat, whether or not it was too cold to hike, whether or not we should let ourselves get roped into going to something that at least one of us really didn’t want to go to. Let it all just roll, y’know? It works better, in the long run.

10) Messes. Specifically, fingerpaints, glitter, sand tables, water stations. Just bring extra clothes and let the kids go for it.

11) Snacks, as in, it is not that hard to pack a snack. (I still stress out over this — so busy getting shoes and coats on and finding my car keys that I forget apple slices, peanut butter crackers and a bottle of water.) Remember them, and the wet wipes, and prevent melt-downs. Dum-Dums are a fine snack, bring 12. Plus they can’t bitch at you with a lollipop in the pie-hole.

12) Playdates. I thought my kids should have loads o’ playdates. Their little friends bring over germs. The friends leave, the germs stay, Mommy gets bronchitis. I would slash our playdate schedule in half if I could do it over again.

13) It’s really true that the years fly by. It doesn’t feel like it, zero-24 months, but after that? Zoom. They won’t love Elmo forever. But they will develop an affection for Chucky that will concern you.

From Jenny at Mama Drama:

Breaking news, people! Scientists have proven that most mothers don’t get enough sleep.

Proving that most moms don’t get enough sleep is like proving that men dislike having their testicles kicked repeatedly with a boot, or that the majority of Americans aren’t afraid of rainbows.

Go read her whole post, it’s funny.

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Yes, I’m talking to you. Come over here. Get your bootah off the computah.

Back from break… Wacky Mommy, Superhero, to the rescue…

(A disclaimer: I am not a trained medical or mental health professional and this column is for entertainment purposes only. If and when necessary, please consult your physician or analyst.)

Dear Wacky Mommy:

My daughter’s swim meet was yesterday, and all of the parents were pretty much on their best behavior, except one mother, who was RUDE as hell to almost everyone. She literally threw the stop watch at my husband when it was his turn to time. She also had on Levis that were TOO low for her fat arse. Her big butt crack was hanging out all day. “EWWW!” “GROSS!” ….just a few of the words I heard from some of the swimmers.

What is the best way to handle parents like these?

Signed,

Team Mom

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People are assholes. Not you, obviously. But in general? Assholes.

Peace,

Love,

WM

10/31 Edited to say: Happy Halloween, everyone! Still on vacation from blogging, but wanted to wish you happy holidays. For me, Halloween, not Thanksgiving, is the beginning of the holiday season, so bring on the fudge and eggnog, dammit. We’re going as a devil, a surgeon, an angel and a fairy princess. Who’s who, do you think? I’ll re-open comments in case you want to guess. We’re handing out little containers of Play-Doh (even to the big kids), Reese’s, M&M’s and whatever Costco candy I haven’t already eaten.

Thank you for your kind e-mails, especially the ones regarding your obsession with my past usage of the word “dork” as a nickname for “penis.” Who knew people were writing so many research papers and erotic novels about this? It warms my heart, really. The cockles of it.

From a reader:
Dork
(1) Noun. Someone who is not cool. ie. “Bill Gates is a real dork.”
(2) Noun. A penis. ie. “Stop playing with your dork and get out here.”

Dude
(1) Noun. Someone who is cool. The opposite of a dork.
(2) Excl. A greeting. Used with a close friend that is considered cool. ie. “Dude!” Origins of this context word can be traced to California. It was originally used in reference to a horse’s penis.

I’m sort of re-thinking what I want to write about here and how, after this situation.

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Hello, Thursday Thirteeners. How about my Thirteen Favorite Movie Scenes, ever? And awaaaaaaaaaay we go!

1) “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” when Audrey Hepburn yells “Timberrrrrrrrrrrrrr!” as the big drunk lady topples.

2) “Slapshot” — how to choose just one? Top favorite: Paul Newman: “That’s great. Why should she give a shit what people think? She’s just scrappin’.” Second favorite scene: when the team’s manager asks Paul Newman: “Reg! Do you see this quarter? It used to be a nickel. Now, the golden years are behind you.” (Does that line make any damn sense? It does not.)

3) “An Officer and a Gentleman,” when he carries her out of the stinkin’ factory.

4) When Ruth Gordon goes careening around in the hearse in “Harold and Maude,” and doesn’t know it’s Harold’s car that she’s stolen until he tells her.

5) In “The Night of the Hunter,” when the old lady, played by Lillian Gish, is sitting in the rocking chair, guarding the children with a shotgun — “It’s a hard world for little things.”

6) “The Last Waltz,” when Robbie Robertson and Rick Danko start craning their necks around, looking for the birds, while Neil Young sings, “…big birds flying/across the sky…” And Joni Mitchell singing, “Coyote” — “Now he’s got a woman at home/He’s got another woman down the hall/He seems to want me anyway…”

7) “Yours, Mine and Ours,” the original, when Lucille Ball gets so drunk she can’t stand up.

8) “The Crow,” when the lovers are reunited.

9) Rosemary Clooney and Bing Crosby having a sandwich together in the middle of the night in “White Christmas.”

10) When Jimmy Stewart flips out (“Why do we have to have all these kids?”) in “It’s a Wonderful Life,” and in the end, with Zuzu’s petals. And the angels getting their wings. And his wife and family and friends love him so much. He didn’t know! How could he not know? Get me a tissue, would you?

11) “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,” everytime Elizabeth Taylor walks in the room. Meow…

12) …and “Giant,” everytime James Dean walks up. Grrrrrr…

13) And, last but not least, “The Aristocats,” when Duchess and O’Malley first meet. Oh, love. Don’t you love love?

The dog is an assclown.

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