Frances Ellen Speaks!

Archive for May, 2009

While I’m waiting for Project Runway to come back for its new season, I’ve found a new favorite, In Plain Sight. Watch it. Comes on Sunday nights.

I’m not the only one watching. Here’s an excerpt from Lamoretti’s Blog

It is a show about Mary Shannon, “a U.S. Marshall in the witness protection program who spends her time relocating federal witnesses.” (www.IMDB.com, 2008) Mary is a witty and strong woman who does not tolerate idiocy and isn’t afraid to speak/act up about how she feels. She is actually the “alpha-female” in her workplace and is the more aggressive character in her partnership. Her partner, Marshall Mann, is a goofy side-kick type, and he has a playful, tedious, yet solid relationship with Mary. There is one short clip that I would like to analyze which perfectly describes their relationship. In this clip, Marshall is speaking to another co-worker about Mary, and says something about her that he perhaps should not have. When she hears him, Mary hits him in the arm, and it looks like a decent hit. Much to everyone’s surprise, Marshall hits Mary back in exactly the same way. Shocked, Mary turns on him and says: “Ow! I can’t believe you’d hit a girl!” To this, Marshall slyly replies: “You’re no girl…” and they exchange identical looks of sarcastic rivalry. (Season 2, Episode 3)

Does this Representative from Georgia have nothing else to do with his time? Like, maybe he could consider thinking about a resolution to help bring back a robust economy. Does he not know we are hurting out here? Click here to see the idiocy.

I have been eliminated–not laid off with the hope of being rehired. No, I am an eliminated entity. That’s like erasing all the writing from a chalkboard with one sweep of an eraser. One minute there’s something there; the next minute it’s gone.

The thing is, one doesn’t know what to do with oneself when the alarm doesn’t go off. I remember all those mornings when that annoying alarm sounded and all I wanted to do was catch another 20 minutes of sleep. Now, for some reason, I don’t crave the sleep. I get up like always, but I have no place to go.

After several days of thinking and analyzing and speaking to my family, I have decided to move in with my daughter. We will be three generations in one house. That has spawned much discussion among my friends and acquaintances.

Many families, not just mine, are merging together out of necessity. I didn’t realize that while I was still employed, but it appears families are circling the wagons. They have run out of other choices.

In some instances, it is a good thing. My ophthalmologist has opened his doors once again to his son, and his nephew, too, is having a hard time finding another job. He is expecting to find him on his doorstep any day now, as well. However, he welcomes the opportunity to help both boys through this crisis and believes he will come to know each of them a little better because as he puts it, ” I only know the boys as they once were, not as the adults they have become.”

I think my decision to join my family will also be a good one, but I know there are many family situations that are not conducive to combining generations in one home.

I just had a discussion with a friend five minutes ago, while I was writing this post as a matter of fact, who is not looking forward to what the near future has in store for her. Her mother-in law and brother-in-law are preparing to move into her home. She is forced to give up space that she worked hard to create for herself and her husband over the years. That may not sound like much, but it’s huge. Furniture put into storage to make room for other furniture being moved in. Drapes to be hung in a sun room that will now be used as a bedroom, no longer a place of refuge. She views this turn of events as an end of her peace and comfort, something she craves when she comes home from work. The fact that she is forced to give all of this over to people she doesn’t particularly care for, but who she is obligated to help in their time of need, makes it all the more an enormous struggle. Yet, she will do it because she loves her husband.

I think depression will be the likely result for those who are forced to join together and make unwanted and unforeseen changes in their lives. What a pity. What to do? What to do?

I don’t know exactly when it became fashionable to humiliate people on national TV. Did that first happen with American Idol? Or some other show with equally distasteful “judges?”

When did it become okay to debase people? And when did other people begin to enjoy it, to find it completely acceptable and totally delightful? Perhaps, soon we will allow some energetic entrepreneur to build a coliseum for our entertainment pleasure.

Before that happens, though, WE-TV has decided stalking is the new wave of reality’s future. Oh, better still–stalk the fat girls. Let’s make them squirm. It will be fun to spy on them and then invade their homes to see what vile food is lurking in their cabinets.

But, of course, WE has sanitized the show by assuring the viewer that the degradation to women is all done in the name of healthy living.  Oh, did I forget to mention the reason why these fat girls will be made to eat humble pie instead of apple pie? WE-TV is out to Save Their Lives. Yes, sir–it’s all about being altruistic. Thanks so much, WE.

Really! How far is too far? Will America really delight in watching women be put through a meat grinder of mental torture?

Here’s a story about Buttermilk Pie.

A few years ago, my friend went to Texas for a week. She ate lunch in the same diner every afternoon for a week, and each time, she topped her meal off with their buttermilk pie. She had never tasted it before. By the end of the week, she managed to wangle the recipe from the cook.

When she returned to work, she laid the recipe on my desk and said, “Make it. You won’t be sorry.” I said, “Why don’t you make it?” She said, “I know it will taste better if you make it for me.”

The truth is anyone can make it. And I’ve never tasted anything quite like it. The best part – it’s mistake-proof. Take that as my word of honor, since I am not and never will be a superb baker. Great cook–yes! Baker–no!

You’ve got to try this.

Buttermilk Pie

1 stick butter (1/2 cup)
3 tablespoons flour
1 cup sugar
1 cup buttermilk
3 eggs
1 tsp real vanilla
pinch of salt
1 pie shell (9 inch) (I use a ready made Pillsbury shell. You thaw it and then roll it into the pie pan–easy)

Mix all ingredients together. Pour into pie shell. Bake at 400 degrees for 40-50 minutes. Top of pie will be golden brown.