Noche Buena

Tonight is our traditional Noche Buena dinner. I figured I would make a quick post about it now before I end up getting entirely too drunk to post later. Actually, that's a lie. I'll probably drunken blog later.

Pictured above is a 22 pound bone-in pork shoulder... Us Cuban folk call in lechon asado. The fat has obviously been scored and is melting beautifully into the meat and keeping it moist. The picture above was taken when it was 6 hours in. It will be in 12 hours total by the time I take it out. The entire neighborhood smells like roasted garlic and pork and I'm sorry that they can't enjoy this. I've even had a couple of neighbors comment on how the whole block smells like dinner and they asked when it would be ready.

Noche Buena is a special time for me. I get to spend this evening with my family and my closest friends and sharing my love of Cuban food with everyone. This year four of my best friends are coming and two of them bringing their parents that are like my extended family. I'm sure we will all be beyond hammered by the time we're half way done with dinner. Actually, I plan on drinking the moment I'm done frying things. Sadly, I won't be eating any fried goodies and I probably won't eat much dinner either as I plan on getting my daily caloric intake from alcohol. Hey, it's the special time of year when I can drink myself retarded and no one will care because it's what people do at these family gatherings. We drink, talk shit to each other and then drink some more.

Merry Christmas, everyone. I hope you all spend it with the ones you love the most.

Insatiability.

Chardonnay... The end-all of boundaries, internal filters and the barely measurable iota of sanity.

I'm considering a career in drunk blogging. Fuck sobriety and any ounce of hope I had in owning a Cuban restaurant. What i really need is a world-famous drunk blog. See, what I need to share with the world is that being a sloppy drunk can be a GREAT thing. What I've learned through Big-Bird and a couple of idiots that I know is that drunken honesty is the key to life. It will help you tell a person you love them. It will also help you tell a person that you want to fuck his/her brains out and when you're done you'd like to eat his/her body like a praying mantis would but only to be half-eaten and left alive with rabies. Honesty is infectious. It's necrosis of the mind. It's incurable, untouchable and painstakingly difficult to battle. Don't bother even trying to fight it because you will be left with scars so deep that all the laser treatment in the would could not erase away the memories.

and i am, what i am, and i am, a trainwreck.

I think I've said this before, but a combination of being stoned and drunk is probably the most pain-numbing, relaxing feeling one could ever ask for - without being in a total comatose state and still being able to enjoy oneself. They key is to pace out the drinking and stoning - so that you get to yourself to where you're comfortable and happy, without going insane and throwing shit or wanting to puke on yourself. That's no fun. Do it right - relax and enjoy yourself. uh-huh.

Tonight at Nate's I decided tonight was one of the few nights that I leave my house and do one (much less both) things. Nate's house is a play pen... With all the toys, building blocks, coloring books and anything else a big kid could ask for. It also comes with fog machines, strobe lights, good music and fun people. The only thing that it is missing is a stripper pole and I would be really super stoked if he got one. I'm hoping Nate will read this, get inspired and go out and buy one. I'll practice until I can give Felix Cane a run for her money.

Somewhere mid-stone and off in lala thinking land, I realized that I try to think of too much stuff at once when I'm stoned. The problem is that if I'm drinking, I'm unable to process it deeply enough, especially long enough to write it down. That gets on my nerves. I like writing about everything I'm thinking about. The problem is if I get stoned without alcohol I can't let loose and enjoy myself. I put on the thinking cap until it's melted into my brain and I'm in over analyzing morbid Hell and I can't just enjoy my thoughts. I need to find a happy balance between the two. However, I did manage to text my mom of all people about some Cuban food-inspired ideas for new dishes. At least I have some ideas from tonight to work off of. Otherwise, all my deep thoughts I had tonight have been thrown out the window. Writing this blog with my headphones on and blasting 3oh!3 doesn't help, either. Whatever.

In other news, I made fucking delicious drunken clams for dinner and homemade kalamata olive bread rolls. This means that shin splints or not, I'm running tomorrow... mainly because I followed everything with some ice cream. it's true. deep down, i am a really fat person.

Celebration.

I may be climbing out on a limb here to say that my horse has finally been leased. To celebrate my horse being potentially leased out I did not make myself a traditional dinner. I made myself a margarita dinner. Which means I drank 1.5 bags of bags of frozen strawberries with who knows how many ounces of tequila and now 6... 7...8 (?) margaritas later I am who knows what point of drunk. What's amazing is how awesome I can type but how poorly I can talk. I was laying in bed with Boo Boo talking about whatever blah blah i was talking about when I finally gave up on talking because I've completely forgotten how to speak for the night.

As for the horse situation, Charm was tried out over the weekend by a young client of my friend/trainer. Charm was an angel, she loved her, everything went smoothly and the father of the girl who will be riding Charm said it's a go. My friend e-mailed the final information about what the lease agreement entails and prices, so now I'm basically waiting for the signature. I'm hoping as of April 1 I do not have to pay board for at least 6 months.

I guess that means I will no longer be a broke bitch and I'll have money for Spain again this August and I'll also have money for a 6 day vacation with Boo Boo somewhere tropical for our anniversary in June.

I guess all this means for you, the reader, is that I will probably be a Hell of a lot less bitchy. That's all .