Night Three–Pork Chops with Sweet Potatoes and Green Beans

The pork chops were a big hit.  My nephew ate two and a half of them, which made me feel very accomplished.  The dog had one and a half, which has made her have to sprawl out on the floor and snore loudly.

Among the chicken soup, enchilladas, and pork chops, I think the pork chops were the biggest hit.  We have fixings for spaghetti, chili, and… ha, leftovers, to carry us through the weekend.  And my dad has promised the nephew a night out at Ryan’s.

I had lunch with NM, who made her famous tortilla and, now, having seen how it’s done, I can see how I ended up with so much of it on Mack’s rug the time I tried to make it.

Things with the family seem to have eased some with the arrival of my nephew.  I’m still finding it grueling, but you’re sick of hearing about it.  I’m sick of talking about it.  I’m kind of sick of everything and I’m tired of being on the defensive all the time.

Bleh, it sucks.

And I’m only writing because it feels good to go through the motions of writing.

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

I suck.

Blah, blah, blah.

I’ve got to pull myself together.  The recalcitrant brother is going to be here any minute and I’m sitting here just making a mess of myself.

On the other hand, I have invented a drink.  I call it “Family Togetherness.”  It’s coffee liqueur and milk over ice.  So, now you can believe me when I tell you that I can’t get enough family togetherness.


I’m sure it has some other name.

Did I tell you that I’m writing a play?

It’s based on the true story of the invention of the vibrator.  It’s supposed to be funny, but I’m worried it’s too obvious.

My family problems are trite and boring.  My imaginary lesbians are trite and boring.  I am trite and boring.

But my dog’s cute, so let’s fill up the glass and move on.

6 thoughts on “Night Three–Pork Chops with Sweet Potatoes and Green Beans

  1. What about the real lesbians?

    You are NOT trite and boring. You are absolutely wonderful, boob freckle and curly chestnut colored hair.
    And “Family Business” sounds delightful. (There is another name for it out at SQ’s house. It’s Dirty Milk.” If you put a splash of crown and baileys in it, it’s called a Duck Fart which makes me laugh for some juvenile reason.)

  2. How did you make the pork chops? They sound good! So do the sweet potatoes. Yum!

    The vibrator play sounds like a hoot. Do the imaginary lesbians use it?

  3. Newscoma, I strive to deserve your praise, always.

    Alice, after fighting with my dad, I’ve discovered that my pork chops are so good compared to what I’m used to because I cooked mine for about twenty minutes at, roughly, 425 (you have to do some guessing with my oven) and my dad advocated cooking them at 350 for forty-five minutes. Which means, my whole life, I’ve been eating incredibly dry pork chops.

  4. OK, so get this. At one of my 5 places of worship, I mean work, this lady comes out to the front room after a hot tub soak, her long grey hair dripping and she says to me that I was wonderful as the country music singer. I say, “Why thank you. My friend wrote it.” She then says that she is a psychotherapist for people in the entertainment industry and you (and I some too) totally captured the disconnect and struggle of personality, who you are billed as vs. who you really are back stage. She says it was totally realistic and that she lives it every day.

    Then I told her about your vibrator play and she choked laughing and said she can’t wait to see it.

    Glad you’re working on it.

    I can’t wait to read a draft…. (Please?)

  5. Shut up! That is so awesome.

    My vibrator play needs an ending (I know how it ends, I just need to work it out) and then some massaging, I think. It’s harder than you’d imagine to write a comedy about the invention of the vibrator. But I will show you what I have so far, if you like.

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