What's the bean about chili?

I don't know if you have strong feelings about beans in your chili.

It seems some people do, and by "some people," I mean those of the Texas variety.

In no means have I done extensive research on the topic, but a quick Internet search for "beanless chili" or "no bean chili" and instead of getting actual recipes, you get many a rant that if it has beans, it isn't chili. So "no bean chili" is just plain redundant.

I wasn't setting out to make pure Texas chili when I began my quick Google search this morning. Instead, I was looking for inspiration when Mike asked for chili for dinner tonight... only, can we not have beans in it, please?

Little did he know, he has an entire state backing up his preference.

As most cooking in my kitchen goes, I searched through a few sites, opened up The Joy of Cooking, and declared, "these are all basically the same... some meat, some onion, some of this spice, some of that spice..." and I closed my MacBook, ready to begin cooking.

Mike says, dubiously, because he hates this about my cooking, "so, you're going to, um, just wing it?"

"Yup."

And he just turns around and walks out of the kitchen.

See, his issue isn't the winging it per say. He generally enjoys what I make. What he hates is that I have a problem replicating meals exactly. If he loved something, for example. I can't make it again, exactly like the first time. Because, frankly, I have no idea what I put in it the first time. I winged it, after all.

His favorite example of this was a batch of Oatmeal Chocolate Chip cookies, which he insists were the best ever... and no other batch has ever come close. Don't ask me what I put in them.

So to make him happy, below is my recipe for today's chili. It's still just completely winging it, but at least these are the ingredients and amounts that I used.

Mo's No Bean Chili

1 pound ground beef (87/13)
1 pound ground chicken

Brown each of those separately in a cast iron pot. Remove.

1 large yellow onion, diced
10 cloves garlic, minced

Soften in the same pot that the meat came out of. Drain all the meat liquid first, and you might need to add some oil back into the pot.  After softened, add the meat back in.

2 tbsp chili powder
2 tbsp paprika
1 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp ground cayenne pepper
1 tsp salt
1 tsp dried oregano
1 15 oz can tomato sauce
2 cups beef stock

Stir into the pot on top of the meat and onion mixture. Bring to a boil, then lower the temp to simmer for an hour.

I was going to post up a picture, but, in the case of chili, pictures don't really do it justice. Just trust me. It was goooooood....

And, to throw a bone (pun intended) at those non-meat eaters of this blog, here's a mid-morning nap snapshot. I took it while laying on the floor after doing some ab work.

Halloween Pics

Who doesn't like Halloween pics??

Many thanks to the Keelings for an incredible party, delicious food, and perfect decor!

 Mike and I dressed up.

My favorite accessory... it's a cat AND a purse.

Melissa, the "beat" reporter.

Melissa and her family, and their incredible pumpkin carving skills. Melissa did the ET by hand... and brought it as a house gift for a very impressed Kristin. 

Back from Hotlanta

[I interrupt even the starting of this post to nag my friends about why I haven't seen pictures from Halloween yet. Hello!! I was counting on you! Please send. Thank you.]

I'm back from Hotlanta, and don't exactly know my next gig. I have a lot of options out there, one that will keep bringing in the funds immediately and three that could be awesome, I'm self-employed forever, type gigs.

Maybe I should back up.

The remaining days organizing the canvassing effort in Atlanta went way better than the first two. I continued to be impressed by the group, they were dedicated, hard workers, and I felt like the system was under control.

Ok, ok, there were a few snafus, but nothing I should write about here. Buy me a glass of wine and I'll spill.

Unfortunately, when it was all said and done, the campaign lost 47% to 53%.

I was done "working" yesterday around 2 p.m. but stayed for the results party. I needn't have done that. I don't want to spread this too far, but I've been to two election results parties after having worked on campaigns and both were... well... depressing.

But I slept for SEVEN hours last night. That's right! SEVEN!!!! I only had to skip my workout to do it.

Holy hell, I'm tired.

I'm tired and I'm trying to decide what's next. I think one of the bonuses of being self-employed is that after this marathon run these past 3 weeks, I can just... stop. Catch up on my Google reader. Go to the store. Work out. Write on my blog. See some of you!!!! You know, just be.

The down side is that any day not working is a day not getting paid.

The upside to that is I never expected be be billing full-time for the past month, so I feel like it's ok to have a few un-billed days. Ya know?

Especially because the firm that got me involved in the rally and the canvassing has ongoing work that I can dig into. Nothing as take-control, project-oriented as the rally or canvassing, just plain old, stuff that needs to get done. Things like writing news summaries for coverage of their issue.

The guy who got me all involved with this group and I were talking about all of this on Tuesday afternoon, and all I could do was stare at his lips as they were moving and think, "Can't we just talk about this on Monday..."

So if you don't mind, I'm going to have a glass of wine, watch my DVR until I go blind, and think about it all on Monday.

Days 1, 2, 3 and 4

It's hard to believe that I was just typing to you about a call to set up the get out the vote stuff for this campaign in Georgia... only that I wasn't just typing to you. It was five days ago.

Since then, it's been nuts. Wednesday was a complete and utter whirl wind of half upacking/ packing/ laundry/ and starting the set up. I was on the phone with hotels in Atlanta all day, trying to find a room, setting it up with phones and Internet and writing boards. Not to mention sleeping rooms for several people, and credit card authorizations, and the whole thing took so much time, I didn't even get to the grocery store for my poor, starving husband. He's been eating out since we left for Vegas over a week ago.

First flight of the morning on Thursday, and I went right to continue the room set up. I started to get ready for the workers, including calling several to show up on Friday. What were they going to do on Friday? I had no idea. Not my problem. My problem was the execution of the room, and the execution of the campaign strategy for getting out the vote.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

It has been nothing but my problem on what to do with the workers, where to send them, and what they should do.

I need to write this in a way so that it doesn't come across as complaining, which I'm not intending to do. I knew wholeheartedly that this was going to be stressful and involve 15 hours of work a day. I was a bit unprepared to be a part of positioning the workers or getting them around or deciding where they were most needed. Not only am I unfamiliar with the campaign research of what areas of Atlanta needed more awareness, even if I DID know that research, I'd have no idea where those places were or how to get people to them.

But, I've taken that challenge by the horns, I think. I admit to several swearing-like-a-sailor moments yesterday, but when I left this afternoon to fly home for 24 hours, I had workers out and about today and tomorrow, and had even "deputized" one of them (with the promise of double pay) to keep track of everyone and sign their time sheets. I also have a plan at least for the first 3 hours of work on Monday, all written out and posted in the meeting room.

(Such famous last words. You know by the time I land, a million things will have gone wrong.)

The most rewarding and the most stressful parts of this have been the workers themselves. The campaign found them because that rally that I helped with on Tuesday? ... it was right next door to a job fair. A higher up in the campaign walked over, and announced that they could come over and sign up with us to be paid canvassers for several days.

So on Thursday, I called several of them and they came in and worked all day Friday.  (That's not all I did on Thursday. I also had to create time sheets, print out w-9's, create an insurance waiver, and then create a system to get all the information, keep it together for everyone, track their hours and their payment. That was actually all kinda fun, because I'm sick like that.)

This group needs the work. Many had to borrow subway or bus fair to get downtown. Most couldn't afford to buy themselves lunch (I'm working on that for Monday, trying to get the campaign to pay for lunch). They all wanted to work the maximum hours possible.

I had fun with them, but it also hurt my heart. I had to feel good that we were at least providing this opportunity for the weekend. But at the same time, you couldn't help compare and contrast with them. I was getting paid by the hour to be there also. I was just getting paid a lot more.

I may have been accused once or twice of being too soft with them -- signing up their friends for Saturday work, and agreeing to let them quit at 6:30, even though we had already cut checks that assumed they worked until 7, because the check-cashing place closed at 7, and most of them needed that money to get home and get dinner.

It was also heart warming at times, though. My deputy? I narrowed in on him fairly early, actually during my call with him to set up his working. I remembered him from Tuesday's rally. Some, like him, did what most of us would do when we want to get a job or impress people. He didn't just come over and sign up for canvassing and leave. He came over, signed up, sat down during the rally prep, offered to carry a sign, and stayed afterwards. Just lingering, but eager and polite.

Did I mention he was a 6 foot 4, 300 pound, 57 year old black man? I wanted him on my side and by my side.

So I told him that. Told him to come early, listen to the instructions, and keep everyone organized and in order. Told him I wanted him by my side while I was cutting checks.

He did that, even though the security part of it wasn't needed with this group. But he also organized rides among them all to get to today's canvassing location. He offered to take yard signs and drive up and down one of the highways and put them out. And he never left my side, but once. Once to offer to go outside (I had kept him inside with me as my body guard but also as a reward to gain his trust and loyalty for all I wanted him to do for me today) and switch places with one of the women who was getting worn out.

They were just, good people.

I fully anticipate I'm over paying them this weekend, since I'm flying back to DC right now and don't have any way of checking that they are actually going to put the fliers on windshields at the churches they signed up for tomorrow, but I don't really care. (Maybe I shouldn't write that publicly, since it's not my money that I committed.)

But when I left them this morning at a shopping center, with signs, and palm cards and buttons, I just, had a good feeling about it.

And now I'm just hesitant to his "publish post," since as soon as I do, I know this feeling of being in control of things will quickly go away as the next crisis arises...

Midnight ramble

Talk about a whirlwind few days.

I’m back. Sorry for that pouty rant this morning (and by this morning, I mean Tuesday morning... I’m fully aware this may not actually get posted until sometime on Wednesday).

Where did I leave off telling you about Vegas? Did I mention I love Vegas? I love the glitz and over the top-ness of it. I love how it’s expected -- without special request or expectation or clearance or pleading or deal-making -- that I will eat at a restaurant where something tight, and something requiring 3-inch heels, will be worn.

And, friends, if you haven’t seen that side of me, you really must come to Vegas with me sometime.

Did I mention the Mandarin Oriental? And more than the MO, the house elves at the MO? They rival Hogwarts. Unreal. They come in and out of your room without you knowing, sometimes when you’ve only been gone for minutes. You leave out shoes, they appear back 45 minutes later all shined up. You push buttons, and all sorts of lights and curtains and waterfall music appear (or disappear) out of nowhere. You dirty a towel, I swear, they come in while you aren’t even looking and replace it. It was amazing.

It makes me a bit nervous that I was too pampered for my trip in three weeks.

What? You didn’t know I was going back in three weeks? Hey, this addict got her fix and needs mmmmmmoooooooorrrrre, baby.

Actually, it’s Vi’s (hi, Vi!) bachelorette party. Combined bachelor- bachelorette party to be exact. That’ll be whole new side of Vegas for me, what with the Thunder From Down Under and all.

So, I flew from Vegas to Atlanta. (I apologize if I’m repeating myself here.) I helped organize a campaign rally today (Tuesday). Landed exhausted from the weekend and flying cross-country on Monday night, only to be hit with several un-planned for loose ends on the rally. Good to feel needed and good to be able to do what was asked of me. But not eating dinner until 9:30 p.m. and going to bed after 11 p.m. aren’t really how I roll -- especially after having woken up at 4 a.m. for my flight.

The rally went off without a hitch, thanks in no small part to my cohort in crime and beautiful friend, Kristi (love to be back working with her!).

But the most interesting part of the day (ok, the most interesting part that I’m willing to publish on the Internet) was being called and asked to come back Thursday. As in, tomorrow. Organize canvassers. NOT a glamorous job at all. Possibly not even a fun job. But a huge learning experience job. A learning campaigns from the ground-up kind of job. A we’ll pay you a nice daily fee and fly you back for your Halloween party on Saturday night then back down on Sunday job (Kristin, you don’t think I’d miss it, do you?!?!).

So, kinda cool. I fully expect to complain (probably in person, not here) about my days. But I also fully expect some really fun stories, some great new experiences, some client good will, and another deposit slip.

I land tonight (Tuesday) at DCA at midnight. I’m booked on the first flight back to Atlanta on Thursday morning. So if you’ll excuse me, I’s gots some packing to do.

*****

P.S. Actually landed at 1:30 a.m. And shared a cab with a guy having phone sex with his girlfriend. That wasn't fun. But maybe I'll post about that on the flight to Atlanta tomorrow.

My next small business idea

Forget this communications stuff. I have discovered a second, serious need that America has, and I think it will be my next small business.

The first serious need? A coffee shop in Vail that opens before 8 a.m.

The second? A breakfast place that serves something other than pastries in Atlanta open before 6:30 a.m.

Seriously, people. A huge business hotel, complete with a conference center, and the restaurant doesn't open until 6:30 a.m.? Don't you think that's a bit late?

So to reward me for my "$19 + all the service charges, etc., for eggs through room service? That's a bit extravagant. I can't charge my client for that." thought last night, I am sitting at the coffee shop in the hotel lobby, with nothing but some fruit slices in my stomach, looking forward to a really long day on my feet.

Yes, I'm cranky! Just be glad I'm typing it here instead of sitting next to you giving you a piece of my mind.

Left Vegas yesterday morning and flew here to Atlanta for a campaign rally -- that's the big project I've been working on the past two weeks. I'm a bit anxious for it, I won't lie. Also a bit sleepy. And a bit "I really wish I was still back at the Mandarin Oriental, where those house elves would have surely found me breakfast by now."

Ok, ok, I would have been lucky to pay only $19 for some eggs there, but they would have been the most delicious, most luxurious eggs I've ever eaten.

Vegas was awesome, as it generally is. Seemed awfully crowded this trip, which is why I enjoyed where we stayed. The Mandarin was specifically built not to have pass-through traffic other than guests. It doesn't have a casino, and you need to be on a mission  to get there in order to get inside -- a flight of stairs down off street level is the entrance, then you take two different elevators to get to guest floors.

But that meant it was blissfully quiet and a true escape.

I'd like to snuggle back into those bazillion count sheets right now, as a matter of fact.

More on Vegas later, I promise!

Randomness

This blog post shall be one of those random posts. You know, where I have stuff to say, but not really enough to compose an entire story, with a beginning, middle, and end, some crisis or celebration or even silliness. And since I'm on a plane right now teetering between excitement and the internal debate of whether to wake the guy next to me so I can go pee, I don't think I could concentrate on a full blown post anyway.

1. Yes, I am on a PLANE! It has been MONTHS since I have been on a plane! Seriously. August 28th. That almost TWO FULL MONTHS not on a plane. I was having palpitations. I know I am one of the very, very few people who like planes. But it's not the planes per say that I like. It's that they take you somewhere. It doesn't have to be somewhere you expect to be awesome, like a vacation destination. Even if it's some tiny town USA, it's different, it's unique, it's full of possibilities and fun and new experiences, and I just love it.

2. Goldie is showing no signs of being affected by Tuesday night's attack, yet I do. I admit, I'm freaked. Still. Let's not ever have that happen again, ok?

3. On said plane, with Wifi (see!! planes are awesome!!), I am catching up on the 800 stories accumulated in my Google Reader. I am supposed to be working for myself now, setting my own rules and my own hours. So why does it feel like I don't have any time to myself?

4. It has been a really stressful week at the client site and on the project I'm working on. Nothing terrible, just lots of close-to-election-day stress that's permeating. And, I admit, while I'm there, clocking hours, I don't exactly feel good about browsing through Facebook and Twitter to stay connected.

5. On that whole self-employed thing, more big "business" milestones, like opening up a business bank account, getting checks with the business name, and submitting more invoices. So, why haven't I actually deposited anything into said business bank account yet?

6. Halloween. Are you dressing up?

7. I think the two men in the seats in front of me are falling in love with each other. Seriously, I don't think they knew each other before the plane and they have been talking nonstop.

And with that exciting post, the 30 minute warning! Whoo hoo!!!!!!!!

Bad dog

Goldie gets extra treats tonight. And I get extra wine.

I had a different post in mind to write tonight, and was still determined to write flippantly about DC parking enforcement even after having a long and stressful day work-wise. I got home after my hour and 20 minute commute, leashed up Goldie, started my audio book, and that's when the bad day got worse.

Goldie was attacked while we were walking.

She's fine.

I'm not.

I haven't stopped shaking from it, even through I am so grateful that it looked worse than it was.

A dog came tearing out of a yard as we were walking. The owner said after it all happened that he opened the front door to let in a visitor, and the dog ran out. The dog actually ran up close to us but ran past, turned around, and charged. I'm not even sure Goldie knew what was going on before the dog was just on top of her.

She was yelping and I was screaming and screaming and screaming. I'm embarrassed thinking back on it at how just helpless I was.

It was probably only 7 or 8 seconds before the owner got out and got his hands around the dog and lifted it up and off Goldie.

Ultimately, it just pulled out a few tufts of Goldie's hair, and didn't break skin. It looks a bit raw, but there's no puncture at all.

We're home now, and Goldie's decided to call it a night. I think after this glass of wine, I'll do just the same. Flippancy can return tomorrow.

A Tease

Eeek!

So it's, what, the second week I've been writing up here again (third?) and I've already let four days go without a post. Where does the time go?!?!

I have a post partially written about a parking ticket from last week, and I need to tell you about Mike's quarter-marathon yesterday (and riding around Baltimore with an awful map on my bike, trying to find the race route to cheer on Mike, Mel and Danny), Bobby opening up a bottle of Insignia in celebration of Mike losing weight (jealous?), Goldie's sleep over at Bobby and Kristy's with their two dogs, and my complete and utter obsession with anything Chilean-mine related.

Tomorrow, I promise.

Side note shout out to Aunt Rita!!! She's home from the hospital (oops, add that to the list of things to tell you about), doing great, and sayin' she ain't afraid of no stinkin' blood clot!

The Purse. And the Stupid Thing I Did.

I have this purse. And it's beautiful. No, that doesn't do it justice.

It's exquisite.

It's the result of one very, very, very successful night of craps at the Wynn casino in Las Vegas.

It started as a kind of joke. A ploy, really, to get me to gamble instead of insisting we go find drinks or walk around or anything else but gamble. One of those, "Ok, Maureen, here's $100. I have $100. We'll play craps. You can take whatever money you walk away from the table with, plus half of what I walk away from the table with, and buy whatever you want."

The "whatever you want" part kind of already being pre-established because I had seen this purse while walking around Caesar Forum Shops that afternoon and am pretty sure I hadn't yet stopped talking about it, even though this was probably 10 at night.

So we began playing. And played. And played. And rolled. And rolled, and kept on rolling. It was one of those movie scenes where people starting coming over to the table to get in on the action themselves.

When we finally crapped out (and this is where Mike can probably leave much more information in the comments section about every single die rolled, but you all know I wasn't really paying that much attention. I was dreaming of a certain handbag) we had done... well.

We didn't go right back to the Caesar Shops, although I'm pretty certain we could have (sometimes I think they might be open 24 hours... at the very least, they are definitely open when the wine has been flowing and the gambling being done). I slept on it, and even admit to having second thoughts. But promptly brushed those aside once I saw the bag again.

Mike makes fun of it because it's a bag that comes with it's own bag. When I travel with it, there's no way it goes on the floor under my seat. It first goes in its bag-bag, then it can go on the floor.

One of the beautiful things about the bag is that it has rosettes sewn along the side, at the top. (It's also a deep violet patent leather, and the rosettes are the same patent leather and violet suede, alternating.)

Over time, one of the rosettes starting drooping.

Drooped so far, in fact, that I thought I was in danger of accidentally bumping it and knocking it off.

So I decided to take matters into my own hands. There seemed to be enough space where I could gently pull the rosette down, put super glue on the back of it, and secure it back on to the patent leather.

Yes. Yes, I know. I have typed the words ... "result of one very, very, very successful night of craps," "exquisite," "it's a bag that comes with it's own bag," and ... "superglue" all in the same post.

Take me out now and shoot me.

Of course it didn't go well. Did you know that super glue on violet patent leather doesn't show clear, but rather white? Did you know that glue has a tendency to spread? Did you know that super glue doesn't really work on patent leather?

Can you imagine how many tears were shed when I came to my senses?

After much fretting and gnashing of teeth (and tears), I found a shoe and leather repair shop in Alexandria (Alexandria Shoe Repair & Leather Service on N Fayette in Old Town to be exact). I dropped it off on a Monday morning, and to make what's already been a really long story shorter, I thought I was about to get ripped off (the guy asked what brand of purse it was AND he took a hold of my left hand and told me that was quite a diamond I had on there), but he ended up charging me just $10.

I admit, I was nervous.

It took a few days longer than expected, but low and behold... perfection. They ended up having to take the inside lining of the purse off, remove the rosette from the inside, clean the entire thing, and then reattach. Unreal.

Can't even tell, can you?