treefroggirl

posted by Thomas on Nov 30

“You would be a incredibly effective weapon. We could drop you behind enemy lines and you would fuck up an entire nation’s sleep patterns.”

posted by Thomas on Nov 29

I survived ice skating. Didn’t even fall once. Stuart fell twice. He said the first time a woman tripped him up which I did not see, so I guess I have to believe him. The fall I saw he was windmilling like crazy and did a fall backward that was something out of a cartoon. One of the people that hang around the rink to make sure people are okay just shook their head.

He also thought hockey slamming me against the wall was a sign of affection.

It was really good fun and I now know that I can ice skate. I taught myself to stop by turning in a circle and I got going pretty fast.

The one negative is how many people were there. I’d like to go somewhere where there isn’t that many people so I can get even more confidant.

posted by Thomas on Nov 29

If you don’t hear from me tomorrow, I am most likely dead.

Stuart is taking me ice skating.

There is no possible outcome but for this to end badly.

posted by Thomas on Nov 28

“I lie to maintain the social fabric.”

posted by Thomas on Nov 27

IMG_0060

Originally uploaded by treefrog girl.

My cat died. She was my mom and dad’s cat now since I had to give her and George and Gordon up when I moved here- but she was still my baby.

I moved to Seattle in 1995 just before my 25th birthday. I mentioned to Meredith that I might want a cat. Her sister Melissa worked as a receptionist at a vet and had seen Garbo when she was a kitten and told her owners that if they ever needed to re-home her to let her know.

When Garbo was nine months old, they called Melissa and she hooked me up.

They had given her the name Bandita because it looked like she had a little Zorro mask on. I renamed her Garbo because the moment a stranger came in she would scuttle off to hide and she was absolutely gorgeous.

She was a tiny little thing until you gave her a bath and you realized she was even smaller than you thought because of her fur. She had a little pig birth defect tail that had this puff of fur that grew off of it so she looked a bit like a bunny from behind.

The people she owned before me had had her declawed (which I am fundamentally against) but she could take care of herself. In Seattle a pigeon flew into my apartment and she scared it half to death holding it down. In LA one day I came home to find a dead mouse in the middle of the living room. There were no marks on it. Whenever George got a bit sassy or invaded her space, she would put him in his place. Claws or no claws she would bat him back into the next decade.

The last few years in LA when she would jump down from the top of the armoire, it wasn’t so much a jump as she would lean over the edge and let gravity pull her over.

My Mom and Gary I think were happy when I decided to not bring my cats with me to the UK because they called dibs on Garbo. I never had to worry about re-homing her.

Even though she could be shy and allusive, she would cuddle up to you.

Tonight Mom called me from the vet. Garbo had been acting a bit off the last few days. Something wasn’t right. Mom wanted to know if it was bad- if they could. . . should they try to wait until I saw her at Christmas.

I said that if she was in pain, then they should put her down but if she was just old. . . then. . . well I wanted to see her.

About ten minutes later my Mom called back. Garbo had died in her arms. They had called her in to be examined and then she just died.

The vet didn’t even charge them (which is the right thing to do). They said they thought it was her kidneys.

I know she was an old kitty, but I am rather upset. I know she was just a cat, but she was such a sweet soul.

posted by Thomas on Nov 27

Back in October, I mentioned that Fray was starting up again and was looking for stories. The book will be coming out soon and  I hope that you think about subscribing! You can read two stories online now.

posted by Thomas on Nov 27

I found these snippets of stories saved on my computer that I have started. Not even snippets. Sentences.

It was absurd. To be here. To think she was here again. For so long, years really, she thought that she simply was not I love you compatible. She was a Mac to everyone’s PC or there wasn’t a USB cord available to connect her and now here was this man saying love to her and she wanted to do nothing more but run.

What does it mean?!? I have no memory of writing the above. I have no idea what the story is.

When I dig a bit more, I find other stories that I think are overwritten, over stylized, over wrought tripe, but then I find one blurb I think is almost not vomitous.

He hated being the focus of attention. He had over the years cultivated the gift of becoming invisible. People would accidentally knock into him on the street, and then bustle off having no idea that the bump that they had just felt was a person and not a light post.

Other beginnings in search of an ending:

Sara never thought she would ever say that she hated Elvis. Hating Elvis was like saying you hated hot dogs with spicy mustard or banana cream pie or walking barefoot along the beach. There was just something wrong with you, wrong with your soul if you didn’t like Elvis. Then she saw her husband try and squeeze himself into a white jumpsuit bursting out like an overcooked bratwurst and she gained a sudden appreciation of hating The King.

And. . .

When Max ran down the list of women he’d fucked, Maggie stuck out. She’d kept a copy of Vogue and The Communist Manifesto in the bathroom. Both were waterlogged, dog-eared, revealing their owner’s bubble bath passion for Kate Spade pocketbooks and the plight of the working man. At the time Max had told himself it was a testament to her intelligence, her holding two wildly disparate ideas in her head. Later he realized that she was much more interested in what people thought she was than in cultivating any true character for herself. Great blowjob though.

Must write a proper story. Not just a beginning.

I want to earn a The End.

It’s been a while.

posted by Thomas on Nov 25

On November 4th one of my work colleague’s husband had a stroke. A trader in the city, he kept crazy hours and he was driving home to his wife and two small children in Kent when it happened. I’m not sure how long he was in the car before he was found and taken to the hospital.

I just read the e-mail announcing that he passed away Thursday.

He was 42.

The children were able to say goodbye and my colleague was with him at the end.

I’ve been so hoping that the ending of this story would be different from what I feared it would be.

posted by Thomas on Nov 25

. . . was a resounding success. My stuffing was nothing at all like my Mom’s, which was disappointing on one level, but it tasted absolutely amazing so I was pleased.

Ended up cutting the squash, cabbage, green beans and baked apples from the line up.

Libby brought a yummy nut loaf and Amanda covered the pumpkin need with a lowcarb pumpkin cheesecake that was absolutely delish.

(Aussie ex flat-mate) Jen made up a cheese platter and along with Al helped me out in the kitchen with peeling and slicing and carving.

Everyone brought wine and beer and I think we drank it all along with the vanilla extract.*

The turkey was too dry I am afraid. I didn’t take it out when I wanted to because the meat thermometer made it look like it needed a bit more. I think it lied to me. Still, I would rather serve over cooked turkey than kill my guests.

Even more important than the food was the company. Was a good laugh.

When Chris and Libby arrived, it was so cute. . . Chris said, “Happy Thanksgiving! . . . That is what you say right?”

Al wanted us to go around after dinner and say what we were thankful for but it got lost in the vino and a competitive game of Cranium.

One funny moment that I missed: The meeting of American Jen and Aussie Jen.

Aussie Jen to American Jen: It’s Jen is it?

American Jen: Yes.

Aussie Jen. I actually prefer Jennifer.

American Jen: That would be nice if it was your name.

Aussie Jen: Actually it is.

Last night the kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off in it and I was really not looking forward to the washing up. This morning I let myself have a lay-in, which I deserved after cooking and not going to bed until 1:30 and with all the red wine floating in my blood. Got up at 11:45, shuffled down the stairs and I saw a shocking, shocking sight.

Stuart doing the dishes.

I gave him an enormous hug and kiss. He has no idea how much I appreciate that he did that.

Jen took photo’s of the drunken Cranium madness and I can’t get over how fat I look. Going for a long walk right after I eat a platter of leftovers.

* Family Ties reference. Tom Hanks (before he was Tom Hanks) plays the visting alcoholic Uncle and he is so desperate for the sauce, he drinks an entire bottle of vanilla extract.

posted by Thomas on Nov 23

I’m doing the dinner on Saturday. I’ve done a couple of big roast dinners now but this will be the first turkey. Slightly nervous about it. As usual we have a large group of 10-12 people coming, which I know is slightly nuts. What is even more nuts is that I make so much food 10-12 people can’t eat it all.

My Late Thanksgiving Day Menu

Olives
Crudités
Dip of some sort

Turkey
Veggie Main Dish (Prob a nut loaf which will be brought by one of the veggie guests)
Gravy
Bisto Veggie Gravy
Stuffing with sausage
Stuffing with mushrooms
Heart Attack Inducing Mashed Potatoes
Baked Onions (from Nigel Slater’s The Kitchen Diaries)
Parsnips
Roasted Red Bell Peppers
Marinated Mozzarella
Cranberry Sauce
Braised Red Cabbage
Roasted Squash (maybe. not sure. also from Mr. Slater)
Green Beans
Broccoli with garlic and red pepper
Green Salad

Chocolate Mousse
Baked Apples

Can you tell I am scared to bake a pie? I need to try it one of these days without the pressure of other people.

Made the cranberry sauce last night from a recipe that I got from Meredith and it is rather tasty although has a slightly bitter aftertaste, but is that just the cranberries? Worried that I got some pith in with the zest. I’ve only just started to like cranberries as they were on my list of yuck food when I was a kid- I think because we often had the cranberry jelly in a can and the congealed blob always grossed me out.

Whole Orange Ginger Cranberries

16 oz of whole cranberries (fresh)
2 cups sugar
1 cup fresh orange juice
1 tbsp orange zest
1 tbsp peeled finely minced fresh ginger

Combine ingredients in saucepan. Cook over medium heat until berries pop open, about 10 min. Skim any “foam” from top & discard. Cool. Refrigerate, covered. Keeps for up to 2 MONTHS (refrigerated)!

From my POV keeping it in the fridge for two months kinda scores high on the ewww scale.

Turkey: I took it out of the freezer and put it in the fridge Wednesday night. This morning it still feels rock solid so I’ve taken it out of the fridge altogether since our kitchen is cool enough. Which means I can make the stuffing, marinated mozzarella salad and the roasted red peppers today because I have room in my little stupid English fridge.

It better be defrosted by tomorrow. . .

Yesterday for Thanksgiving proper Stuart and I went out for Indian and then got in a big fight. All is well now and I suppose it is good as we were following tradition.

It just isn’t Thanksgiving if there isn’t a gineourmous argument with divorce and/or death with a large knife threatened.