The Artful Blogger.

Home Made Salsa.

- Tomato puree, or strained tomato, looks like the pasta sauces but without all the herbs and stuff (I use the type which comes in large bottles with Italian writing on it.)

- One medium onion (brown or spanish, whichever you fancy.)

- One small to medium red capsicum.

- Can of four mix beans.

- One small chilli.

- Teaspoon of chilli powder (more or less, depending on if you want it hot or mild.)

- Two teaspoons of paprika.

- Salt and pepper to taste.

- Teaspoon of olive oil.




Dice the onion and capsicum, then fry on medium to high heat, using olive oil. Cover with lid and let soften. Get a few black, over cooked bits at the bottom of the pan (adds a lil more flavour) and then whack the beans in (drained of course). Stir for a while and then add the tomato puree. How much you add, depends on if you want it chunky or not...chunky. Keep in mind this thickens on standing.

Turn the heat down onto low, its slow cooking from here. So you're stirring, working that wooden spoon and once the tomato paste begins to bubble, throw in the diced chilli (seeds and all, don't be afraid) and let it simmer for a bit. Mill about for a few minutes and then return to the pot-of-almost-finished-salsa and add the dried paprika powder and chilli powder. Stir yet again. Let it bubble away for a few more minutes.

Turn off the heat. Let the salsa sit and once it's at room temperature (takes a while) put it in a (preferably) pretty pot and sit in the fringe. From my experiments, this lasts up to a week.

For the wild ones out there who don't have the patience to let the salsa cool, eat it hot from the pot and I assure you, if you let the nachos swim in the salsa for a while, they become mushy and easier to swallow.

My Home Made Salsa is a versatile foodstuff. You can eat it with nachos, bread (the loaf kind, or lebanese, turkish is good too...) or if you want to be more radical, try stuffing grilled capsicum with couscous and pouring some of salsa inside and out. Yum.

I'll Find (the) Pencil Case.

Fish, apparently need to live in smelly waters in order to build some sort of immune system. I still stand by the fact, the water was cloudy. Cloudy, I declare.

Baby oil has a pleasing and unique smell. I have no idea what's in it (the label pealed off a while ago).


Queer As Folk episode yesterday was lovely. He told Justin he loved him. Loved him. Finally, it's out there. They look really good together. The night club got bombed, bombed dammit. Respect Babylon. Respect.

I dare say, the weather is acting awfully funny. Oh no, don't stop Mr. Wind - the Kite would be upset. No, no don't take it like that - be gentle, gentle. Mr. Wind, you must learn patience, the Kite doesn't want your sympathy, help it fly. Fly dammit. No, not like that.

Cool as a...Cucumber Sandwich.

The most memorable Christmas I ever had involved placing cookies in the laundry and catching Christmas bugs, only to wake up and find them all dead (the jar was small, very small.)

My T-shirt smells like olives (the brine spilt on it last night.) It was cold this morning, I had to wear socks. Socks. Yes, socks. SOCKS. I hate socks. I feel the same way about shoe-laces.

I will attempt, yes I will, to be a focused chair mushroom. Assessments do that.

Why is the House of Pansa so interesting? Apparently because it was an insulae that was both rented and a private house. Did Pompeii have a strong sheep and wool industry? I wouldn't have a clue, I've never been (but Moeller and Jongman have some points I could remember.)

The study of Journeys for english is beginning to scratch at the inside of me skull. It mocks. It mocks so hard that I'm almost laughing in class. Genii Loci? (I don't even know if I spelt it right) oh that burns me. The spirit of a place. Yeah, a McDonalds and some concrete roads. I tried, I really did last outing with the family to find me some Genii Loci. I bought a few things and boosted the local economy, but I got not Loci. No Loci at all. Cheated.

Teapots and Leaves.

Good news, the fish are healthy.

Watched a play at Oakhill College with Erin and Nour last night. I liked it. Witty, quirky - jokes I laughed at and slapped myself for doing so -

"S'more?" (like Samoa)

"It's not Samoa, it's some more."

"That's what I said, would you like s'more?"

"Not Samoa, some more and yes, I would."

and and and... (in reference to the evening meal) "sounds like ghoulish not ghoulash." I laughed. Silly me.

I found a beret. I looked and looked and looked and L asked the hat-stall Lady if she stocked one and she looked at me blankly. I found it myself, it was near the "doo-rags" (spelling?) She then attempted, to no avail, to persuade me to buy a "doo-rag."

I'm sorry Lady, but I don't swing that way.

Cherry Smiles.

Reasons Why Sitting on Stairs at School Should Not be Considered Loitering (especially when the stairs are located outside and shouldn't be in use during breaks because everyone is outside - where the damn stairs are located.)

- So far, this behaviour has been going on for a few months. Sudden prohibition goes against precedent and is therefore, ridiculous.

- In all honesty, the area used for much needed resting purposes, is merely one fourth the number of possible ways to climb these stairs (which are only four...or was it five steps? high and spans well over four metres in width and goes around a corner)

- Telling someone they can not sit in the area and then claiming standing there is also wrong, makes you a power hungry judgemental croon. Oh, the condescending tone was noted also.

- There is no sign prohibiting sitting on the stairs, actually sitting there is implied. Just like sitting on the crappy steel benches and grass is implied.

- The whole uprooting of location causes emotional distress and this will ultimtely, effect our studies. That's a little hypocritical of the institution.

Corn On The Stick Gov'ner?

Today, Erin and myself accomplished alot.

Her expert driving to the city was so amazing, I'm pretty sure her sheer talent turned the lights green at the very sight of us ambling along the pretty paved roads. She claimed by the end of the day, that 'it's true, your feet do end up hurting if you drive a manual' (she chose to forego shoes, a respectable and completely valid action given the circumstances.)

We bought stuff, a-plenty-of-stuff to be more accurate and I restrained myself from buying (what I then and still believe) were useless, but pretty wooden bells which looked certainly like the items they were labelled, but lacked in the department of making bell noises. I also, was unsuccessful in finding a hat. Erin's success reached its climax when she found the olives. Yes, olives - for her Father who was rather grateful and in awe of her ability - Erin also, was able to get a contact card for the 'olive-man' (who has a farm you can buy his products from).

Oh, we bumped into David. He was slaving away at work (and I use that phrase very loosely). We got some pamphlets and an amusing speech bubble type thing that has the word 'beep' on it. David, that's some good promoting *thumbs up*

'Firsts' done by Erin as driver were achieved today - she drove over the harbour bridge and overtook a car *thumbs up*. The hillstarts were brilliant too, she explained why it was difficult to do one in a manual because the car rolls back a bit. I had no clue.

There were fish. Four fish that are now swimming about in a tank, in Erin's room which have been named and fed. Erin felt like buying fish and I of course, agreed. Fish, who doesn't need a fish sitting in their room. Notice the word fish. We were meant to get only one, but one turned into two and then we got the tank and other affiliated items to set up these two fish (which were dubbed Castro - the black fish with googly eyes - and Che - the chubby fantail I picked). Determined to get back to Erin's house and set up our new friends in their watery home, I began to get paranoid the fish would die due to a lack of oxygen - the only logical course of action would be to open up the bag and let air in. I'm sitting there, in the front passenger seat gently holding part of the bag out the window to fill it with the lovely air.

On the way home, we decide to get another two fish. This time, we got two spotty ones. I picked yet another chubby fantail (now named Marx) and Erin picked an agile, slim spotty white one (which I swear to you, I can see it's pink insides) which she dubbed Engels. On arriving at her humble abode, I held up the bags of fish to her parents and we grin in a gimpish collaborating fashion. We say we'll clean the tank on Fridays.

I end up home later and its quiet. Everyone's busy and I just tell my Dad what I've been up to all day. He looks a me funny when I walk out of my room wearing the elephant apron I bought, 'to stop all the food getting on my clothes.' I made him a coffee, to prove how useful it as.

Violent (One) Whispers (Sweet) Day.

"Temporarily happy, but permanently fucked.

So with that in mind, subconsciously we’ve been having competitions to see who was more miserable. I really thought I’d win when I told you I was addicted to this or that substance, that I secretly did this or that and that throughout the day, I remind myself how futile my life would be if I kept being so selfish. When I didn’t win, I got upset again and the constant in my life - the fact I am permanently fucked, reached its climax when I realised how privileged I was. "

- Persona of Major Work (Education calls me and I answer enthusiastically.)

Crashed Here For Tonight.

It's okay. I'm learning =)