Queen Mediocretia of Suburbia

Oil Painting

As you know, my usual hobby cycle is:

1. Spend startup money.
2. Fail.
3. Fail.
4. Fail.
5. Succeed a little.
6. Spend lots of money on professional materials.
7. Drop it immediately after.

The oil painting hobby seems to be a little different. I won the oil painting starter kit at trivia, so I skipped a good part of step 1 (though I did buy a lot of cheap brushes).

Perhaps that's why the encouraging small success surprised me by arriving early, on my second attempt instead of my third.

That's my second attempt propped up against the basement wall. It's not on a full canvas, because as I say I was not expecting anything, so I just painted it on a canvas pad. And while there are many things I don't like: the plate got a little too distorted, and I painted highlights over the stem's shadow on the right apple, and there are two spots that are clearly overworked... and I could go on, but I was pleasantly surprised. It looks like a pair of green apples on a plate, and the dark background really makes it pop. That must be why so many still lifes have a black background.

I don't quite know what to do. I truly want to either a) quit right now or b) paint a portrait of Gary as Madame X next.

I was so pleased with myself that I butchered Danny Boy on my guitar to knock me back down, so I wouldn't get a big head.

(Half an hour later) I just looked at a lot of John Singer Sargent portraits and now I am fully humbled.

Gary Remains a Mystery to Me

Last month, Gary must have heard Baby Got Back for the first time. I don't know how he missed it six years ago. There was even a piece on NPR.

Do you remember how we used to watch at least part of The Music Man every single damned day? Now every day ends with Gary saying, "Alexa, play Baby Got Back."

Sadly, I don't got back, at least not as Sir-Mix-a-Lot describes it. He likes 'em round, and big. Mine is flat and big. And droopy. And drapey. It would take up his Mercedes.

Anyway, Gary plays this song every day now before bed, and we must dance, and I must try to twerk. I do sort of a stationary Curly shuffle and it looks a little like a twerk. Things shake, anyway.

Naked Chicken Chalupa Review

We were driving home from the movie theater, and Gary said, "Where do you want to eat dinner?"

"At home," I replied.

"I want to eat out."

"Where, then?"

"I don't know. Where do you want to eat?"

AT HOME, I thought loudly. But what I said was, "Anywhere. I don't care."

Suddenly we were in a Taco Bell drive-through and I found myself eating this for dinner:

That is a Naked Chicken Chalupa. What looks like the "shell" is a deep fried chicken patty.

Disgusting, I know, but I am somewhat charmed by food in disguise. Pancakes that look like turtles, cupcakes that look like muppets, and now chicken that looks like a taco.

Well, technically, chicken that looks like a chalupa, yet it tastes (as so many things do) like chicken. And, even better -- looks fattening, tastes light. I kept gnawing away at it, trying to work out why it felt so much healthier than a real chalupa.  Finally I realized that since the "filling" was nothing but cheese, lettuce and tomato, I was eating an inverted carb-free chicken sandwich.

Would I eat it again? Not a chance. Would I eat the new KFC chicken crust pizza they only sell in Japan and the Phillipines? I'm not sure. I imagine that's just going to taste like chicken parmigiana. Would I eat the chicken cupcakes the author anticipates in the link above? Absolutely.

In related news, I have gained back ten pounds of the forty I lost a few years ago. No more fast food for me.

Shopping with Alexa

Evidently Amazon Alexa is the new iPad, in that Gary feels he must buy all models. He got one for him, then one for me, then another two for him, then one for his parents, then a better one for him, which then went to his parents so that meant another even better one for him. Also, since he swaps them throughout the house he doesn't want to identify them as "Ellen Bedroom" or "Basement" so I'm always sending messages to the wrong one.

He tried playing Baby Got Back on the great room one but it went to my bedroom, so I entered the great room twerking. (Side Note: Twerking is a skill that comes on you with great age. I couldn't twerk ten years ago, and now it's easy. You really just hop backwards and land on your feet unevenly.)

We use it to ask questions like "When is Mother's Day," and "Will it rain tonight," and now that the alarm clock was moved to make room for the Alexa, "What time is it?"

The feature that won me over was the shopping list. In the past I felt technologically advanced when I'd write the list on the fridge and take an iPhone photo of it to the store. Now I just notice we need something, and shriek "Alexa, add bananas to the " -- wait, that's a lie - "Alexa, add chips to the shopping list." Then at the store you check the Alexa app on the phone, and it shows you your list.

This has led to mischief.