Daily Archives: February 4, 2009

It’s 4:18 and I’m on a reverse schedule. Normally I’m a morning person, up early and take out the dog, make breakfast and get to work. Here I am in the middle of the night thinking about our lives and how I’m going to make the baby red potatoes I boiled the other day for breakfast.

Yes, I think about such things. Like a chef in the walk-in, I look at my frig and decide what to make with what we have. Yesterday, I only had one cup of rice and my husband asked why? I said that in case we need to move we need to use our pantry and we have a cup of rice. He laughed and said rice was one thing we don’t need to worry about as it travels well.

He’s not worried. He wants to send me to Saudi Arabia where I am not even a person!

My father always asked why all we talked about at family events was food. It was putting three meals per day on perhaps 15 plates, breakfast first. Then we figured out what to do, or normally had it planned. But we had no money. We had to buy food and cook it. So while we might eat out one meal, we had to do another.

Even if we saw the ocean or a great museum, everything revolves around food. It always has and always will. When a person can take a pill for dinner, I put up my knives and hands and bid goodbye to not an American institution, but a worldwide one that won’t be able to afford the “dinner pill.” I’ll go there and cook. Keep cooking good food for yourself and your families, Dee

Everything’s free, I think. I can just take money from your pockets via Congress and the President. All I have to say is that I’m a big corporate entity that really messed up, and after the last free gift, messed up again. So now I want more. And I know you’ll give it to me, new corporate jet or not.

The corporations that are surviving this debacle because they made sound decisions and investments in their products, and their people, should be laughed at!!!!! We’re at the public trough once or twice and they keep giving us money and don’t give any benchmarks or reporting requirements. Imagine that.

We’re living like a pig in s***! We love being on the taxpayer’s dole and my bonus was, well, enough for a Porsche and pre-War condo. The co-ops won’t take me. They don’t like my personality or my ethics, plus I don’t take out garbage.

Hey suckers, I’m living the high life with your bailout money and enjoying every minute. If you want my financial advice check out my blog, IWinYouLoseSucker@perpetualloser.net

Live in Saudi Arabia. I’ll look it up. I did and it’s frightening. An American woman wearing native garb, an abayyah (cloak) and headscarves went to a Starbucks after a seminar to finalize her meeting with two male colleagues. She opened her laptop and was arrested by the police and strip-searched and taken to jail.

I couldn’t drive, or go out of the house without my husband. One woman couldn’t go out on her porch because males might see her. Even as two American ex-pats I would need Jim’s permission to leave the country if there’s a family emergency.

Yes, I believe there is gender bias in the USA. Look at France and food. All the rustic dishes they do are from their grand-meres but they think only men can be chefs. Here my pay was always less than my male colleagues doing the same job or less, in government, lobbying and non-profits. And cooking. And I made zero for that. I remember something on typewriters and men said it was a man’s job and a woman couldn’t do it. That was the birth of the “pink collar” era.

I started out driving a Toro at age eight, two pedals, a go and a clutch. Two speeds. To move to a country where I must cover my entire face and body and can’t drive and can’t go anywhere in-country or leave, is something I have to say “NO” to. No way. No how. If I’m going to be in a different country I need to experience history first-hand of so many historic sites. And bring our dog, who has been in virtual quarantine for four years now so has her international “passport.”

A lot of my life I didn’t know what fighting was (debating issues), and I thought if people didn’t agree all the time it was a bad thing. After winning and being beat up a few times (verbally), now I like to fight for good causes and am glad that my loving husband supports whatever I want to do. Honey, let’s not move to Saudi Arabia. I look good in black, just not so much of it. And no weapons, please. Cheers, Dee