More + More = Convenience?

Google + ... another social media venue. So, with mild prompting from my techie husband, I accepted my invite and joined yet another online network. I have no friends (On Google +, I mean). Apparently, the only way you may invite people is by selecting someone from your gmail contact list. I have a gmail account, but I do not have a contact list. Personally I feel a contact list is redundant. If I need to contact someone via email, I locate the last correspondence in my inbox and reply. Simple. My successful system has worked thus far, but now I have no friends, which I am quite alright with accepting. In fact, it may be safe to say I am near being teched-out (if such a thing exists).

Slumber's Song

Early mornings during the summer months are hard for me to tackle. The warmth and comfort of the engulfing covers hold tight to my groggy body. A fresh day ahead is luring, but the knowledge that mornings such as these are numbered forces a battle between productivity and indulgence. Household chores rally together to entice my feet to the padded floor; laundry washed and folded, a neatly tucked-in bed, a backyard rid of advancing weeds and happily bathed dishes dangle a generous portion of sparkling pride in efforts to tempt me from my luxurious haven. An unexpected yawn shakes the allure of accomplished adulthood. Puppy love now nestles at my covered feet, a reminder that I am not the only soul caught in the snares of slumber's enchanting song.

Eat Up

You can tell a lot about a person by what rests, temporarily, on his/her dinner dish. I am sure you have done it at one time or another, judged a person by their plate; eating too little, eating too much, a sauce fanatic, the salt junkie, the BK resident (always wanting food his/her way), the vegetarian, the protein buff, and so on.

I am fairly predictable. I love carbs (rice, delicious dinner rolls, pasta, potatoes...) and I slowly savor vegetables; there is no limit to the veggie world's real estate as far as my plate is concerned. I usually stick to poultry-chicken or turkey-and the occasional seafood entree of salmon or crab cakes. As far as condiments are concerned, I typically favor ketchup and barbecue sauce to all others. If I can't distinguish what something is, I stay away. Soup or salad? Salad all the way (Italian dressing, please). I'm pretty simple and usually stick to classic, routine dishes.

Vegetarian I am not, but I do carry a certain stigma toward meat. I blame it on a tragic occurrence at the tender age of five for this condition my husband deems as "unnatural".  Inching ever-so-slowly toward an Adirondack lake's edge, my foot searched for stability atop a slimy, floating deceased-yet plump-frog. By my reaction you would have thought I lost a limb, but worse. I can not look at, touch, smell, taste, or consume any portion of meat that resembles (in my presence) the animal it once was. Examples: slabs of steak, ribs, shrimp, lobster or crab claws/legs/tails/other random body parts, turkey carcasses (displayed on Thanksgiving tables), breasts of chicken with bones, fish with skin/scales-ick!, barbecue displayed as pigs' butts/thighs/whole bodies, big chunks of ham, pork roasts, and so much more. Yes I get grossed out, but I also feel bad for the little (or big) guys. In such moments I consider converting to the herbivore side, but then I think of Chic-fil-A and the act simply can not be done. Maybe some day.

What does your plate say about you?