Grocery Shopping & Pink Slime = The Suck

I work all week so when the weekend rolls around, grocery shopping makes me cringe and clench my teeth (prior to even having a list made). I've recently added another store to my usual routine so it's that much more annoying. Another store? Why in the hell would I do that? I'll tell you why. Pink fucking slime, that's why. Oh wait, it sounds better if I call it "lean finely textured beef" a.k.a. LFTB.

There's more to it though. This "beef" is doused with ammonium hydroxide to kill the pathogens prior to being packaged all pretty like for your viewing pleasure. Yum-fucking-O! If beef needs ammonia to kill bacteria before I eat it? I don't want it. There's claim about this not being bad for you, but since this LFTB is the main ingredient in dog food? I'm stepping aside and allowing Fido to have free fucking range (Also, I don't own any pets but if I did? Chances are high I wouldn't allow this pet to eat it either. Just saying.).

Have I been eating it for years without knowledge? Well yes, yes I have. That's not the point. The point is we're in the know now, so why continue? If it means adding another store to my route to purchase said beef products (I just decided to go with all meat products, including chicken and fish) and pay a few extra dollars in the process, then so be it. It's either that or become vegetarian. I love hamburgers and steak and...and...and...way too much, so I suck it up and go to a local grocery store where I know the food is quality, delicious and healthy. Can I taste the difference? In my opinion? Yes, yes I can!  

I used to do all my shopping at the always dreaded Walmart. Then I did a lot of research on all the stores in my area and found out which ones sell meat with pink slime in it and which don't. Walmart? On the list that does. That's not okay with myself or my husband. It's not what I want in my body, his body or my kid's. It fucking disgusting.

There are reports available where Walmart spokesmen have stated it's in the works to offer its customers beef without LFTB, but you'd have to ask for it. What? It's not going to be out in the open? Excuse me but that's more fucked up than shopping at two stores each week.

If you're looking for a place that sells pink slime free beef this is a good starting point. Otherwise? Google is your friend ladies and gents. Don't be afraid to ask the butcher direct, there's no shame in that! 

The reason I do keep shopping at Walmart isn't just for its carts that make left hand turns only when wanting to go right, or for its plethora of classy customers; it's plain and simply for the price. I can purchase my canned goods, cleaning products and toiletries (etc.) at a much lesser cost versus my local supermarket. My family is on a budget after all.

Now this post isn't just about pink slime. No way! I'm also here to inform you of a handful of websites I visit each week for coupons and such. Take advantage of this section if you will, or just run away screaming about pink slime, that'd be okay too.

• CouponNetwork.com
• Coupons.com
• Stonyfield.com I include Stonyfield because I'm an organic dairy shopper when available. Yogurt and milk coupons every week!
• Kellogs.com
• SmartSource.com
• KrazyCouponLady This lists all coupons available from A-Z. It's crazy complete!
• Redplum
• Ebay Yes Ebay! This morning, I purchased 100 grocery coupons $2.08, including shipping! Thanks to my sister for the heads up on that one.
• Your local grocery store! Here in the South for me, that's Publix!

It doesn't stop here. There's obviously tons of bloggers out there who do this and each brand will most likely have a section on their website for coupons. That's a little more tedious but if you do this once per week, or when you know you're going to be purchasing a specific item, why not search it out? 

Okay, I'm stepping off my soap box for today. I won't get started on how probably 90% of the fast food you eat contains pink slime. That? For another day.

Jesus! The totally non-religious post.

My husband came to bed as I was awakening from a dream.

Me: I just had the craziest dream.

Eric: Was it about helicopters landing on houses?

(Totally different post y'all!)

Me: No, smartass. It was about Jesus! (in my take that voice)

Eric: Jesus?

Me: Yes, Jesus. I was in school. A Catholic one. I had to use the bathroom. It was quite the maze finding it, but I did. Because I'm all sorts of awesome...

Eric: ::Eye rolls galore::

Me: As I was approaching the door to leave the bathroom, a scary chick with stringy long blonde hair opened it up and said, "Jesus didn't say you could use the bathroom!" And I was all, "The hell?" Only you can't say shit like 'hell' at that kind of school. So instead, I took off running. I ran all the way back to the classroom where everyone was doing art. I ran past the teacher, who was sitting next to another student, and grabbed her chair. I yanked on it putting her between me and the blonde with the Jesus attitude.

Eric: Laughter. Lots and lots of laughter.

Me: Oh it doesn't stop there. The Jesus freak yelled at that student too. "Jesus didn't say you could sit there!" What the... So I ran. I just fucking ran. What else could I do?

Eric: Yeah, that sounds about right.

Me: Remember earlier when you called me a loser, complete with hand to the forehead, for DVRing the rest of The Hand That Rocks the Cradle?

Eric: Yeah. Of course, loser.

Me: Well I finished it after dinner while you were playing mindless video games. I think the symbolism here is the the blonde with stringy hair represents Peyton from the movie. You know, Rebecca De Mornay?

Eric: Yeah, no. Tomorrow's Sunday. I think it represents your need to go to church.

Me: Asshole

I went back to bed.

When I woke up, I took my turn in a few Words With Friends games. When I opened the first game up. My tiles were C-H-U-R-C I was lacking the last H. And thank God, right? Or Jesus? Or Rebecca? The fuck if I know who to thank. Next game...my opponent plays LENT. Come on! So I put the game away. No more of this shit today.

Later on? I'm watching The Omen. Perhaps Damien can help me with my conundrum.

Ha! I've been wanting to use that word for-EVER!

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"I want to blow it out..."

How do you tell a three-year old, when you place a piece of cake in front of him, that it's not his birthday? You don't, that's how. You go with it.

Xavier: It's my birthday! I want to blow it out. Sing!

He meant a candle. He needed a birthday candle. Thank whoever, I had some on hand.

If he smiled any bigger his cheeks would get sucked into his ears!

One puff and it was over.

We dubbed it "un-birthday" cake.

This was on Tuesday. There were leftovers on Wednesday. Guess what we did on Wednesday? Yup!

It's not Rocket Science people. Sometimes you do the silly shit to keep the kids happy. Cause when they're happy? Momma's happy too, which is the most important thing above all, right? Shhhhh! It's a secret.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

It has been quite a fucktacular week. I worked from home on Monday, then hypomania kicked in for the remainder of the week, which was only four "in the office" working days, yahoo! So yeah, fucktacular.

Last night I began my double dose of the new medication I'm on. (I'm weary of sharing names of medications anymore with people unless we're doing it one on one. We all react differently. What works for me may not work for you!) Anyhow...I woke up this morning very shaky, nauseous and tired. I took a dose of Benadryl, per doctor's orders, for the shakes and ate a piece of cheese. When I arrived at work, I drank a bit of caffeine and I feel about sevenyy-five cents worth of human again. It's going to be a crash and burn early kind of night, I'm sure of it. And I welcome that because my hypomania (whom I adore this time around) has been keeping me awake into the wee hours of the morning.

Earlier in the week, I drove up to the beach over my lunch break. Because I can. I got some great shots and thought it would make for a great "week in closing" post. Happy Friday!

Sea Foam

Eternity

Posts

Guarding the Ocean

Flowers Peeking Through a White Pickett Fence

Moi

Tide Moving Out

 

 

 

Aging Love

Dinner {Pink-Slime-Free-London-Broil} Pinterest worthy I think...

Appetizer

I can't keep the thoughts in my head

From Pinterest

From the depths of the darkest shadows to sliding down a rainbow into the sun while it tickles my cheeks...

From nonstop tears to the overwhelming sensation of laughter and giddiness...

Talking Talking Talking throughout the day. You peer back with a cock-eyed stare. Am I making sense? I am to me. I don't care...the thoughts? I can't keep them in my head.

The thoughts are racing racing racing and I'm driving down the highway. I throw my head back while going 90 and belt out the loudest laugh I've ever heard.

Oh yeah, the radio. It's on. Who fucking cares what's playing, I'm singing it bitches. And when we come to a stoplight? You'll need to pay me for the entertainment I'm about to provide to you.

Insane? No. Just a good fit for this post!

Still driving...fast fast fast. Oh wow, I've never seen that before. That's morbidly beautiful. Perhaps I can pull over and get a shot this. ::Reaching for my camera::: Oh yeah, that whole driving thing. Man, there's someone behind me, I can't pull over. Head shoots back to let out more fits of laughter.

Don't you...Forget about me...Don't Don't Don't Don't... I sing. Not well but I sing.

Pulling into the driveway...I made it, but I didn't get the shot. There's always tomorrow.

Cake! I'll bake a cake! Fucker got stuck in the pan but it's cake nonetheless. A little cool whip will cover that shit up.

Yes. Yes, we (I) do. (Pinterest)

Dinner. Burritos. Assemble them. Get this shit on the table, I'm hungry. Something isn't quite right here. What am I missing? The rice. I forgot to make the fucking rice. This is going to set us back twenty fucking minutes.  

Scream Scream Scream. 

Yell Yell Yell. 

There's beer in the refrigerator. It'll make it all better. Yep, it will. Beer. The drinkable appetizer. 

Eat Eat Eat. 

Nom Nom Nom.

(Pinterest)

Dessert. What sweetie? You want a birthday candle? It's your birthday? Hells to the yeah you can have that, no problem.

Clean up, clean up, everybody do your share! Again with the singing.

What? It's time for Phineas and Ferb? Oooooooh yeah!

It's after midnight, aren't you tired? Tired? Me...tired? I could stay awake for DAYS.

I lie down anyway trying to calm the never-ending story playing over and over again in my mind. Eventually, sleep comes and the day has ended, but not before hoping-wishing-begging for this feeling to stick around for tomorrow.

***

(Pinterest)

Hypomania. The good kind. No tweaking to medications have occurred. Depression lifted and this is what I was/am left with (Psssst, it DID stick around. So far, so good!). I rarely get "the good kind". I'm often faced with the anger side of it. Today? I double up the dose of my newest drug. Yay! Maybe this will stick around for all eternity.

What? Call my doctor?

Shut up. Please, just allow me to enjoy this for a little while. Eventually it's going to go away and the darkness will fall once again. I don't need that anytime soon. So for now? I'm eating skittles bitches. Taste the fucking rainbow!

I met a new friend named Instagram last weekend...

 This is my favorite photo of my third son and me. He's 3 now.

 Chicken with Rice - My version - Click the photo for the recipe!

 He doesn't like water over his head.

 First minor league baseball game of the season.

 Sunset.

 A pause while playing trucks.

 Shadows through the screen.

 My husband and I as Disney a few years ago.

 Blue.

 My middle son and I taking a walk.

 Big brothers. Good kids, mostly. xoxox

 Lazy morning with the boy. Beautiful weather, all windows open. It's like we were playing outside all day, indoors.

Mirror, Mirror. Fresh out of bed, the sun shining through the window.

 Why they call it "The Sunshine State".

 Rawr!

 I can see right through to my soul. I was very depressed here. You can only fake it to so many.

 Baseball and a sippy cup.

 Carrot you!

My gorgeous nieces!

Arroz Con Pollo - My Way {A Recipe}

When I met my husband, I was introduced to a world of new flavor. His family prepares many dishes I adore, each of which had originally been cooked by his grandmother.

One favorite, Arroz Con Pollo {Chicken with Rice), I've eaten on multiple occasions as well as prepared in the various kitchens of the homes we've lived in over the past fourteen years. His family's version though, consists of using yellow rice. Yellow rice contains MSG, and we're not a fan of that in my house.

So I took the original family recipe and put my spin on it. My family loves it and so I'm sharing it with you. I don't measure when it comes to cooking, baking yes, but stick with me here and yours will turn out fabulous, I guarantee it!

Don't hate on the paper plate!

Ingredients

3 Large Chicken Breasts (off the bone) cleaned and cut into thirds (for poaching)
2 Tablespoons Adobo Seasoning, keep it on hand, this is where we shake a little "here and there" as we cook (with or without pepper, I go without and grind my own)
3 Boiling Bags White Rice (you can use the long cooking version if you wish, I just like the shortcut here)
1 Large Green Pepper, Diced
1 Large Red Pepper, Diced
1 Small White Onion, Diced
1 Fresh Jalapeno Pepper, Seeded and Diced (doesn't add a lot of heat just a nice kick in the background)
3-4 Cloves Garlic, Minced
2-3 Tablespoons Extra Virgin Olive Oil
1 Can Petite Diced Tomato (optional)
Salt and Pepper to Taste

Directions

Heat up a large pot and add the olive oil. Toss in the peppers, onion and garlic and sweat it out. Add salt and pepper to taste.

While the veggies are working their magic, bring a pot of water to a boil. Remember, I don't measure. I simply take the pot I cook my spaghetti in, fill 'er up half way and go. Once it boils, reduce the heat to a slow simmer. Add 2 tablespoons of Adobo Seasoning and give the water a stir to make sure it dissolves. Now place your chicken in the pot, set a timer for 12 minutes and have a glass of wine while you wait (This is where I usually throw 2 boxes of Jif Cornbread into the oven to serve on the side. YUM!).

When the chicken is ready, remove it from the water and set aside for a  moment. Rinse the pot, refill it for the rice and get that water rolling once more. Now grab two forks and shred the chicken. Once it's shredded, add the chicken to the veggies. Grab your Adobo and liberally season the chicken before you stir it into the veggies. Keep that burner going on low to keep it warm.

Once the rice is cooked (10 minutes for those boiling bags!), drain it well and add it to the chicken and veggies. Go ahead and shake on some salt and pepper before you stir (I add a bit more Adobo here too).

This is where you would add the diced tomatoes if you wish. Sometimes...I'm just not in the mood. It's good with or without.

Now get that cornbread out of the oven because this meal is hittin' the table.

Enjoy!

P.S. I don't know the nutritional value of this meal. This serves two teenagers (boys), my husband and myself with enough leftovers for one teenager the following day.

Follow me on Pinterest....I'm hoping to add more recipes soon but in the meantime? Stop by and giggle at my funny pins.

I've come to a decision

Two nights ago, I swallowed a pretty blue pill. A capsule, which can only be taken after a meal consisting of a minimum of five-hundred calories. A pill that brings the grand total of medications I've taken in a bit over three years, to twenty. TWENTY. It's a nice rounded number, I've decided.

The decision I've come to? Aside from living with Bipolar Disorder for life, I've decided I will always struggle with it. There will be good days. These days may even turn into weeks, or hell, months. I will forever be on the edge of my seat because hypomania and depression will lurk around the corner. It hides in the shadows and waits for me to cross its path so it can grab onto me, like a bad horror movie, and hang on, terrorizing me for as long as it wishes.

My particular hypomania begins with a plunge into depression. Each time, it is seemingly worse than the time before. The darkness is thick with blackness speckled with reds; reds stemming from broken fingernails used in attempt to claw myself back into the light. Once the steady stream of depression has settled and I know it's making itself at home, I become agitated. Angry. I lash out. I scream. I'm a horrible person at this stage. Once I realize what is happening, this being my particular hypomania, I begin to cry. The tears shed by the gallon. Uncontrollable sobbing shakes my body until the dark thoughts arrive.

They're better off without me...

How can I do this so it appears accidental?

Here, let me Google the quickest way possible...

I can't fight this anymore...

Last time I said if it came back, I was done....

The thoughts are endless. And scary. But you know what? In the heat of the moment, the thoughts and visions are almost beautiful, because they propose an end.

I'm not a religious person, like at all. I don't know what happens to people when they die. I don't believe in heaven or hell. I do believe there's relief of sorts for the person who gets out. The people left behind are another story. A story I don't want to hear about me anytime in the future ever, at my own hand.

The best way I can explain being Bipolar to people it to mention the dreaded mirror maze we've all walked through at the local carnival. When you first step inside, there's spark of excitement. After a few minutes of bumping your face into the mirrors, it becomes a little bit annoying, but you still giggle. Pretty soon the giggling turns to shouting, "Where's the fucking exit? If I bump into a mirror one more effing time..." You walk in circles, "Wasn't I here a minute ago?" Anger eludes you and you're downright screaming to find the end. For the average person, it ends when he/she exits the maze. For people with Bipolar Disorder, when a shift occurs, we're back to banging our faces into the dreaded mirrors again. Over and over and over again.

I've heard people talk about Bipolar remission and such. I don't believe in it. I only believe that we're blessed with periods of time where we don't want to climb walls or think we could fly (I don't get enough moments where I think I could fly, more please). I hardly call that remission. I call that, you've had your fun and now it's time to tweak your meds, periods of time.

Disagree with me if you wish. We're all entitled to our opinions. I hope this has shed some light for you on the disorder itself. You know why? Plain and simple. I don't have a terminal disease so I don't reap the rewards of you bringing over home-cooked meals and such. Mostly, you all run in the other direction in fear. You fear what you can't see. We're still sick, okay? Don't run. Please, stop running. Just stop it.

Prisoner of My Own Mind

I'd love to. Apparently there's this really large code. I can't crack it. Nor can any other.

I'm {not} Fine.

No, I'm not fine. I'm all the things crossed out in this picture above. I want to scream, cry, thrash around and sleep all at one time. I want answers. How can I go from having ECT to getting on the correct dose of lithium to feeling fabulous for weeks to feeling like I don't give a shit about anything anymore (again)?

Is this a lifelong battle? Yes. I know it is. I thought I'd have a few months at the "good" level before things fell downhill again. Each time this happens, it's harder to get back up. You'd think that because I know "good" is on the horizon (just not when), I'd take these downs with a grain of salt but no. No, I don't. I see these downs as a failure of everything I've worked on up until this point. They last longer each time. They're darker each time. They're much scarier each time. 

I cry at nothing and everything. I have to leave the dinner table so my sons don't have to witness it.

I have an appointment with my psychiatrist on Wednesday. I don't want to try new drugs, isn't 19 in 3 years enough? I don't want to increase what I'm currently on. My blood work shows I'm in the therapeutic zone and an increase could hurt my kidneys and other organs.

I probably sound stubborn, like I want help but don't want to take more drugs to get the help. It's not me being stubborn. It's me being over it and wanting what I'm currently taking to go back to working the way it should. The way is should.

From the UK to Florida and Back Again

I was born and raised in New Jersey but sixteen years ago, I relocated to Florida. Not a day goes by where I say, "Gee, I miss snow!"

I was nineteen years old and already had my first son. It was time to make the college plunge which meant becoming acclimated with a computer. It wasn't long before I was typing like a pro and getting to know what being on the World Wide Web meant. I also met my first online friend and we've been close ever since.

All these years later and a handful of visits from his family who hopped on a plane after scoping out the many flights to Orlando from the UK, we're still buds.

I remember when he met his wife and he, my husband. We each popped out some kids and the rest is history. Through the powers of Facebook, we chat all the time and scope out each others photos of family and friends.

Two years was the last time we were all together, in an Orlando restaurant. We've sort of made it a tradition to go to the same Mexican place each time. We laugh until our stomachs are in knots and drink beers over chips and salsa. Two years. When I see how much their son and daughter have grown, it baffles me.

People who question if online friendships work can stop wondering. They do. I'm proof of that.

Just "Mom"

I don't know when exactly it happened, but it was very recent that much I know.

One minute he's calling me Momma. Sometimes Mommy.

Lately, I'm just Mom. Mom.

They've grown so quickly. 

Meet Blue Ninja

I was minding my own business, reading a book, when my son brought "Blue Ninja" over.

He asked me to help him get the ninja into the car.

"Dude, I'm stuck!"

"Now I'm in the trunk. What the eff, yo?"

"Ha! I broke free bitches. Try it again and you get the sword in the eye!"

Yes, this is the type of shit that takes place in the house of sperm.