Iceberglandia

Some of you might have noticed I haven’t been ’round here for a bit. To be honest, my mind’s been in overdrive for the past few weeks, making all kinds of life-changing decisions. I have tried to sit down and write, but I haven’t been able to.

One of the things I’ve been thinking about (not by far the most important, but the only one I want to discuss right now) is that as far as my writing goes, it’s time to do something different. Something better (“that won’t be hard, Iceberg”, I hear you say). I mean, I’ll admit I’ve loved writing on this blog for over three years, but with all these things on my mind right now, I’ve seen things with a new perspective, and boy, do half of the things I’ve written here stink. I mean, who really cares if my phone companies suck?

So what’s next?

Do I try to work on my other projects (which I don’t have, yet) and still pop up here every now and then? Do I take all 300+ posts here, go through them one by one, rewrite whatever is rewritable and toss out the rest? Do I just kill this thing once and for all, and move on? I’m open to suggestions.

Whatever I decide, I’ll keep you posted, all six of you.

The Iceberg

Number Six…

Will you marry me?

The Iceberg

Excuse the Simpsons reference in the title. When it came to titling this “dish”, I had a conundrum. Picadillo, at least where I come from, is simply ground beef cooked with potato and onions. When I told people I made picadillo with a lot of vegetables, some of them told me it wasn’t “picadillo”. And when I said I cooked ground beef with a shitload of vegetables, the others said “oh, picadillo?”. Go figure.
Anyway, it’s been a while since I’ve done a Foodstuffs. Not because I haven’t wanted to. It was only last thursday that I threw caution to the wind and decided to buy groceries properly.
Now, when I say “how to cook for forty humans”, I mean, this ended up being a lot of food. I could have just shipped the entire contents of the pan over to Bangladesh, and voila! Hunger problem over!

Let’s meet the gang:

In the top middle, you can see the puny little pack of ground beef. All around it, there’s cilantro, parsley, baby carrots, an onion, 3 small potatoes, a tomato, a green pepper, a squash, celery, 4 jalapeño peppers, and two big-ass bags of frozen veggies. One is just corn, and the other has even more shit inside, like green beans, lima beans and peas.
Who failed to make the picture this time? Garlic, as usual. And, since I’m a complete tool, it was only until I finished cooking and eating that I remembered I had bought a can of sliced mushrooms to throw in there as well. Had I remembered, I would have had to title this “how to cook for 41 humans”, and hence my Simpsons reference would lose its meaning. So fuck you, mushrooms, I’ll use you in an omelette sometime.

Anyway, time to get choppy:

I’d quote Stewie Griffin on his opinion of broccoli, but enough with the cartoon references. I’m not that retarded, you know? Either way, I hate the fucking disgusting thing. Yet, somehow it’s good for you, so every now and then I eat some of it. I’m not dead, so I guess it’s working.
OK, so I chopped everything and placed it in two containers. Why? Because I’ll be adding them at different times, that’s why. I don’t want my cilantro, garlic and parsley to cook all the way.

Alas! I could have cooked the meat WHILE I chopped everything, but it’s been a long work week. And I’m at about three beers at this point. So my brain’s kind of loosened up. Anyway, I cook the ground beef in a splash of beer (and how it hurt to splash it in the pan, instead of drinking it), some cumin and Worcestershire sauce.
After it’s half-way done, I add the veggie squad.

The fucking pan is almost overflowing. I cover it and let it cook for a while. I don’t count the time, I go by my gut. I “improvise”, so to speak. My mind wanders into other matters, and by the time I realize everything is almost fully cooked, I exclaim (out loud) “Pendejo!”, which is vulgar spanish for “You Idiot!”. It seems I forgot to add the garlic, the cilantro and the parsley. And salt and spices. I run over to do just that.

Peace at last! Cilantro, parsley, garlic, more cumin, coarse sea salt (I need to read boxes better at the supermarket), pepper, and oregano.
I let it all cook for a while longer. In the meantime, I struggle to open my bag of flour tortillas. I take sour cream and home-made salsa from the fridge.

Food’s done!

As luck would have it, Casa Mendosa brand employees have a hard time counting to ten. The bag distinctively says 10 Large Flour Tortillas, but I only count 7. Fuckers. Oh well, I’ll deal with them later. For now, I only need 3. I heat them up on my comal, and proceed to make my “flautas”. I add sour cream and salsa, crack open another brewski, and dig in.

Turns out, that was way too much food for one sitting. I feel like an anaconda after devouring some large prey. I sit there, motionless, for the rest of the night. Of course, there’s always room for more beer.

I realize the pictures don’t look that appealing, but believe me when I say the food was great. What do I mean, was? I still have enough leftovers for the rest of the week! Of course, by now I’m out of flour tortillas, so I’m on to the next best thing: making rice and eating like a human being. With a fork. Do normal human beings mix up their picadillo and rice? The mind wonders.

The Iceberg

FRIDAY
I left work, finally, and got home. Took a really long hot shower, and out of two options, made a decision. I could take a nap (I could have really used one), or, I could cook. It’s been a while since I’d bought groceries, and was sick of eating off the coffee truck at work. Well, I decided to cook. I guess I’ll post that soon.
I ended up eating at around 8, 8.30. By 10 PM I was fucking done. I fell asleep on my computer chair, some red gothic-style chair I had to employ when my previous chair gave up on me a few months ago. The phone woke me up, and I was happy.

SATURDAY
Again, I was woken up by the phone. The nature of the call was regarding an inquiry as to what was the capital of Portugal. Half-asleep, I managed to get it right. I guess all those books I read when I was 3 finally paid off.
10 minutes later, I was in the bathroom, for the first of oh-so-many times. Whenever I’m under stress, my body reacts that way. And currently, I’m under a lot of stress. So many things to think about, nobody to listen. Oh well, story of my life. Good thing I bought toilet paper on thursday.
After the 5th or 6th time I visited the toilet, I had to go to the library, to return some books. I took a peek outside, and saw it was raining. Oh, well, I’ll go later.
I’m sitting at the computer, trying to figure out what to do, since apparently my hard disk is full. I’m talking to a friend on Messenger, and she informs me there’s just been gunfire where she lives. I panic, because by this time, I’m expecting a phone call which never comes. I find out everybody’s OK. Knowing the damn phone’s not going to ring, I end my conversation by saying I’m off to the library, since apparently now it’s sunny outside. I make it half-way to the corner, and it starts raining again. I have a backpack with 5 books, and an iPod loaded with 4 albums I was really hoping to listen to on my way to the library and back. I finish my cigarette and go back inside, half-wet.
I check my phone for text messages or missed calls. Nothing. I check my email. Nothing. I change my clothes. I have the afternoon to myself, I can finally catch up on my housekeeping, and making space on my computer. I don’t feel motivated to do anything.
I sit in front of the computer, and watch a couple of episodes of Corner Gas. I watch Monday Night Raw from 3 weeks ago. I listen to 3 hours of podcasts. A friend from back home logs on. I ask him if he has Skype. I could really talk to somebody. He says yes, and calls me. Bad thing is, we can’t talk. He’s with another friend, and we end up discussing random trivial things. We hang up, and I’ve nothing else to do, nobody to talk to. My sister had left a message, that they were going out to dinner, but by the time I wanted to reply, she was offline.
By this time, everybody in the world was having a party. I was sitting like a fucking asshole, in front of my computer, reading mexican soccer scores. “Enough of this”, I said, and watched a couple of movies. Drag Me To Hell was allright, despite it’s ridiculous ‘Beetlejuice-esque’ scene. But I didn’t quite like District 9. It felt too “Disney” for my taste.
The phone never rang, so I went to bed. I couldn’t even listen to a podcast, since I had listened to all the ones I had loaded on my phone.

SUNDAY
Come hell or high water, I had to return those books to the library. I had to, since friday. And at 25 cents each for every late day, I already owed 2.50. Hoping it wouldn’t rain, I walked over. It’s a 40 minute walk downtown, and I quite enjoyed it (except for the moment some teenage kid rammed the front wheel of his Harley Davidson-like bicycle into my left leg. He apologized so profusely, I didn’t even consider killing him. People who apologize are cool. Hey, things happen). I like walking, when there’s something in my ears. I returned my books, and pondered where to go from there. I ended up walking another hour to the Future Shop, to see if there was something I could spend my gift card on. I walked out empty-handed, but I know what I’m buying. I just need to go back at a later time. I went to Staples, and saw a box of 96 (96!!!!!) crayons. The only reason I didn’t buy it is because I promised I’d wait. From there, as I was close by, I went to the liquor store. I hadn’t been in a while, and I wanted to see if there were any new beer cans I could buy for my collection. I walked out with six of them, including a fucking Bud Light. I’m curious as to how the “Estrella” one will taste like. I’ve never had beer from Spain before.
I walk into the mall, with no particular intention of being there except to catch the bus. I see the schedule, and the next bus comes by in 15 minutes. Or, I could just walk over to my sister’s place, but when I walked by before, her car wasn’t there. I walk around the mall like a stupid idiot. I walk by HMV, and I feel tempted to go in and see how much it costs to purchase something. After all, there’s a new Alice In Chains, a new Megadeth, and a new Behemoth. I don’t consider Pearl Jam, because the biggest PJ fan I know told me two days ago it’s nothing to write home about. I go over to the “New Releases” section, and see Disturbed’s “Indestructible”, which came out over a year ago, and Korn’s “Greatest Hits, Vol. 1″ which came out in fucking 2004. I walk out immediately. People still wonder why I download stuff instead of going to fucking record stores? Of course, I saw no AIC, no Megadeth, and of course no Behemoth.
I didn’t carry my phone, bacause it might rain. I’m nervous that it might have rung. I need to get home. I buy my weekly cigarettes, and wait outside for the bus.
I get home at 4.30 PM. I could have sworn it was later than that. I check my phones, my Messenger, my email. Stupid me. I do some housekeeping. I YouTube some music. My friend from last night logs on, and tells me he had a great time last night. Well, other than me, who didn’t? Some people have even posted on Facebook about what a delightful Saturday night they had. Me? on a Sunday night at 8 PM, I just wish I could go to bed and have the shitty weekend over with. But I can’t. I’m still waiting. I have feelings too, you know?

The Iceberg