Thanksgiving without the family

I’ll start by saying that I did not wind up doing what I wanted for Thanksgiving this year, which was to volunteer at a soup kitchen. It seemed like the perfect time–my family is feuding, my boyfriend and I broke up…sort of. After all, where would I go for dinner anyway? He wanted me to go to his house, as I’ve done for the last 9 years. But I thought it would look weird to his family since I moved out and all.

So this year seemed like the perfect time to give of myself to those less fortunate. I’d been talking about volunteering with Mike for years. But when it came right down to it, I guess neither of us was willing to give up our traditions. And let’s face it–isn’t it more fun to be stuffing your face with family and friends around a fire than ladling out slop to poor people?

I guess in my unkempt heart, I knew this year would be no different. Though I gave it the old college try and did some research on where to volunteer, I didn’t actually go through with it. Instead, I went and stuffed my face around friends (not family, and there was no fire). It was hard to admit that I don’t have what it takes to give up my beloved turkey day. But hey, I’m just a soul whose intentions are good.

All that said it was as fine a Thanksgiving as I can remember.

 

Mike's mother is not the baby

I stopped by Mike’s mother’s house since she was so disappointed I wasn’t coming. She happened to be on my way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mark

After that I stopped by Mark’s house, a guy I work with.He and his wife Toni welcomed me in though I couldn’t stay. I was late for my final destination–

Joe and Heather

Joe’s house. Well Joe and Heather’s house. They’re married. Joe’s my ex-boyfriend from high school but we’re way beyond that now. He’s turned out to be the longest lasting friend I’ve ever had. I dated him from ages 16-20. Then we hated each other for a while before realizing we’re destined to be best friends.

I was the “best man” at his wedding.

I guess you could say we have a bond.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anyway, his family came over and they’re all really fun people. He’s half Mexican, though he and the rest of the Dominguez’ look ALL Mexican. See below:

Guadalupe and his boys, Joseph Alejandro and John (aka Pudgy)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And more:

Chanel and Joseph

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And more:

Jackie

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the lighter side are the Kellenbenzes. A Dominguez married a Kellenbenz and the result is blonde hair and light skin at the table:

Danielle Kellenbenz

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Joanne Kellenbenz (nee Dominguez) and Victoria Kellenbenz

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was a fun-filled day to say the least and the feast was outstanding. From the turkey to the cornbread casserole to the mashed potatoes to the walnut-goat cheese salad to the stuffing, everything was perfectly delicious. And that’s thanks to one person:

HEATHER DOMINGUEZ

Oh, and Jackie

She’s a quirky, cool military woman who was jumping out of planes in the Air Force when I met Joe. She brought a full BINGO game, along with prizes and I won 3 times!!!

 

 

 

 

$3 on a scratch off and $5 cash!

It was truly a happy thanksgiving. RIGHT BERNIE?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

RIRIGHT RAGGY!

11th Hour Pasta Blog

 

I struggled with something to write today.  Even took my camera to work in hopes that something would inspire me. Given that I was inside the walls of an institution with unhappy people all day, nothing did.

So I drove home, uninspired, but hungry. What to eat? This is for all you would-be chefs out there who think you need a lot of time to make dinner. I’m talking to you, Steak-um-loving bachelors.  Granted, it’s a lot easier when you’re cooking for one, but this recipe is a quick whip-up that would work in volume.

What you need:

• Your favorite macaroni
• Tuna
• Mediterranean olives
• Green beans (or any other green veg you have on hand, spinach would work)
• Onions
• Garlic
• Olive oi
• Chicken broth
• Drop of cream (optional)
• Fresh herbs or dried (I used sage, rosemary and thyme)

You’ll notice I don’t give quantities because I don’t measure. I throw things together. It makes it all that much quicker.

What you do:

Sautee garlic in olive oil til fragrant, but don’t burn it. Throw in some chopped onion and sautee.

Toss in the green veg, tuna, olives and herbs. Add salt, pepper and hot seeds if you like. Swirl it all around in the pan til it smells awesome. Meanwhile your water for the macs should be boiling. Drop them in.

Continue sauteeing the pot mixture and add some chicken broth, but don’t make it soupy. Add cream and bring to a boil. Stir.

Turn down the heat to simmer, stiring occasionally. Taste it and see if you like it. If not, add more herbs or olives or whatever.

Drain macs, throw them in the pot with the mixture. Drizzle with olive oil, but it in a bowl and top with parmesan cheese.

This dinner took me about 10-12 minutes to make.

What you’ll be eating:

YUM

 

 

 

Yu-gi-oh!, cranberry sauce and other fun stuff(ing)

Mokuba Kaiba

Today

I laid down the voice of Mokuba for a Yu-gi-oh! video game. It’s really cool to imagine my voice in an arcade somewhere come January. Happy Birthday to me! It’s the 28th by the way, in case you want to buy me a present. On second thought, don’t even acknowledge my birthday this year. Thanks.

Anyway, as Mokuba, the scrappy younger brother to Seto Kaiba, I got to duel with my enemies and unleash killer cards like Blue Eyes White Dragon and Burst Stream Destroyer or something like that. I scuffed up my voice for a two and half hour booth session and though my feet were aching and my throat itching, I loved every second of it. What could be more fun than acting like an animated character and getting paid for it? Thanks be to my friend Kristen (www.jadepix.com) who works at 4Kids and got me the audition.

In other entertainment news…looks like I’m going to have a small role in an upcoming TV pilot called Echos & Voices by New Artists Productions www.newartistsproductions.com. I’ll be playing an assistant reporter who brings some comic relief to an otherwise  dramatic script. I’m going to need a head shot and resume soon! And definitely a website.

Thanksgiving

I’ve been gearing up for my 2nd annual leftovers party and making shit ahead of time. Yesterday and last night I was a busy beaver making the toast for stuffing, cranberry sauce, green tomato salsa, and escarole and beans and I managed to throw in a banana bread for good measure. Ok so three of these things aren’t for Thanksgiving, but oh well.

Here’s a little pic-diary of yesterday’s cooking.

Boiling the water and sugar

 

The beautiful cranberry color!

Lemon zest, nutmeg and cinnamon

 

One glorious finished product. I know you can’t wait to eat it.

Homemade cranberry sauce

Stuffing!!!

Well, the beginnings of it anyway. Three loaves of bread toasted in the oven. This pile of crust is awaiting sauteed onions, celery, butter and herbs…and possibly some sausage?

I use a mix of dark grain breads for my stuffing.

Green tomato salsa

My friend Alan’s garden is filled with wonderful things like chard, peppers, cilantro and tomatoes. I’m lucky enough that he lets me pick whatever I want, so I took some green tomatoes off his hands. I was going to fry them but decided to be healthier and found a really quick and delish recipe for green tomato salsa. It’s just tomatoes, scallions, oil and vinegar, peppers and I threw in cilantro and slivered radish for extra crunch. It’s really good!

Escarole & Beans

One of Alan’s favorites. He stopped by last night to have some and said it was good, but I think this pot came too bitter. I mixed in some chard from his garden and I put too much hot seed this time.

Ay! Fongool! It's "shhcaaahtol" n beans.

I see rotting bananas, I see bread

Last minute I decided to whip one up last night. I was so nervous about my voiceovers today and I probably should have just relaxed but I kept busy so I didn’t have to think about it. Luckily, the bread and the job came out well!

It was looking real gluten-y for a minute. Thought I'd have a brick.

But then I added another egg and some oil and it turned out moist and light.

Here's what's left of it.

Mother bird

Now…..I’ve got to unwrap this bitch of a bird and let it thaw properly in the fridge, covered with a wet cloth. I never understood the damp cloth thing, but it has to be done. I’ll be lucky if this 20-pounder will be thawed by Friday. I got it at Goffle Poultry Farm, which sells free range, fresh killed birds. I got mine frozen though.

This doesn't look very big, even though it's 20lbs.

Hope to see you all at my house on

Black Friday!

All of these cheesecakes were very delicious.

King Missile

That’s a quote from “Cheesecake Truck” by King Missile and one that ran through my head all night last night a I made a pumpkin cheesecake for Thanks giving. If you know the song, you might agree that John S. Hall sounds like he has a mouthful of cheesecake, thus perpetuating the wanting of and deliciousness of cheesecakes.

I, for one, have never been very fond of cheesecake, although I’ll eat a piece of chocolate cheesecake. If a dessert doesn’t have chocolate in it I don’t really see the point of eating any. But anyway, I had to make this pumpkin cheesecake for Thanksgiving, like I said and it wasn’t very eventful or anything. I just left the oven on for about 8 hours because the cream cheese wouldn’t soften and instead of turning it off and on again, I just left it going. I’ll have to sell 4,000 cheesecakes to pay for my energy bill this month.

Anyway, I have no idea if this IS a very delicious cheesecake, since, like I said I don’t really care about cheesecake, and also, I can’t eat it til Thanksgiving day, if I even eat it at all. So I can’t recommend this cheesecake one way or the other. All I can do is post pictures of the making of the cheesecake and the semi-final product…..on Thanksgiving day I’ll top it with chocolate   There’s no real point to this. I just didn’t know what else to write today.

The crust –Almonds, graham crackers, butter and brown shug

The wet ingredients

Cream cheese. No coincidence that it resembles a fat body.

Cinnamon, cloves, allspice, nutmeg and ginger–the stuff that makes it yummy.

Me waiting for the goddamn cream cheese to soften

The final product

I’LL LET YOU KNOW HOW IT TURNED OUT.

What Got Grandpa Harder?

 

 

They say the definition of crazy is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting to get different results. ** I guess I’m crazy then, because I continuously gravitate towards the same types of jobs that make me unhappy or get me no closer to any kind of fulfillment.

Like yesterday. I answered an ad for a part-time Adult Store Clerk because I’m looking to make some extra bucks. The rent in Montclair is absurd, and sometimes I wonder if I didn’t make a rash, impulsive decision moving there. Anyway, you might wonder why a gal like me’d want to work in a porn store…or, maybe you wouldn’t, if you knew me at all. Besides the potty mouth and raunchy sense of humor, I have experience hawking XXX movies.

That’s right. From scanning titles like “What Got Grandpa Harder?” at Palmer Video in the early 90s to writing a sex column entitled “Ask Rose Beef” and booking porn stars for photoshoots in the early 00s, I’ve seen pussies, tits, mouths and assholes get poked, prodded, pinched, pounded, puckered, pummeled and pile-drived (or is it driven?) in every possible way. That my oral skills have been described with words like “artist” “amazing” “talented” is no mystery and no cause to brag. I simply watched the pros (women AND men) suck cock repeatedly, and I picked up a trick or two. You girls and boys can try it at home, too!

Speaking of repeatedly: back to jobs. I’ve been a florist twice and a florist’s driver once. Two days ago I applied to a florist to make bows for $10 an hour. It’s one of the skills I managed to retain. I’ve been a waitress twice and a catering waitress once. I’ve been an Editor and Writer and Proofreader several times and I apply to jobs like these every day. I’ve pushed porn a bunch of times—at Palmer Video, and writing for mags like Hot Chocolate, Cuddles, Cleavage and Shaved Orientals. I once worked with a start-up called Sinister Studios and we aimed to produce real live porn. We shot one solo girl masturbating and then I parted ways with them. I really have no desire to do that sort of thing anymore. And I almost partnered with a guy opening the Romantic Emporium on Route 17 or some shit. I can’t remember, I’ve had so many jobs. Oh, and I also worked with a guy helping him recruit girls for his Tantric Sex studio. Almost forgot that one.

This pattern of doing the same jobs over and over got me where I am today—working full time as a writer at a job I hate and applying to the same kinds of part-time jobs that got me here. I think that’s definitely the definition (def the def of) CRAZY!!

Aurora Snow, porn star

And still I wonder if it’ll be different this time around. The selling of the sex toys, the recommending of the strawberry lickable lube, the suggesting of “Cumshitters 23.” In my plea for employment, I actually wrote this sentence in my email:

        “I’m knowledgeable about toys as well, and sensitive to people’s apprehension about them. I’d be great at convincing a woman who’s never done anal before to buy a butt plug, for instance.” Today I got a response email from the guy:

Rachel,
           I have received your email and was very impressed with your knowledge of the industry.  I wish that I did have a postition for someone of your expertise.  Our sales positions do not pay even close to what you are looking for and being a growing company right now with only 2 stores, managers are not needed right now.  I do appreciate your interest and hope that you will still come enjoy a shopping experience at our store.  Thanks again and take care.
 
Joe

Oh well.

Jobs I also applied to this week include:
•   Princess for children’s parties

 

 

 

•   Photographer

•   Voiceover work

•   Game host at North Jersey bars

•   Editor for thesis papers

•   Limo driver

DO ANY OF THESE LOOK LIKE ME?

I think the tags for this blog could be:
lost    aimless    searching    confused    retarded    cocksucker
 
  ** I even went to college repeatedly. Bergen Community College, Essex County College and Rutgers Newark.

Tina Fey wants me….NOT!

Rachel, you're the funniest person I ever met. Come audition for me.

Last night I dreamed that Tina Fey saw some comedy skit demo  I did and called me to come interview for her.  She kept calling and leaving messages but I was unable to call her back for a while for some reason. But I finally did and she was like all serious like “I saw your tape…when can you come in?”  So we set a date.  I was the most excited I’d ever been in my life. In the dream I was thinking SNL. I’m going to be on SNL and I was running around to everyone screaming Tina Fey wants me.  She saw my tape and actually wants me. SNL! I’m gonna be on SNL! I was jubilent.
 
Then I called her again because she left me another message. I thought she wanted something else and she’s like “Oh..well, wait. Let me call you back.” Then the whole time I didn’t know if we were still on for the original meeting time (and I couldn’t remember it anyway.) I kept waiting for her to call back. You know how an hour in a dream is like 14 days, so I was fretting about that. I wanted to call her again to confirm but I just kept waiting. 
 

I've not yet been to Hawaii

Then, I was suddenly in Hawaii, happy with the fact that Tina Fey liked me and I was going to be famous and all my problems would be solved. My friend Sam was there and he was running off to go do something with the guys–our crew we hang out with– and I was supposed to join them. I told him I’d be right there. Even though I was in Hawaii it didn’t look like it. I kept thinking what’s the big deal? Where’s the water? Then as I was walking towards where Sam went, the water suddenly appeared. Crystal clear and 5 different colors of green and blue. I was mesmerized and HAD to go in it immediately even though a. I was fully dressed, b. It was cold outside and c. I wanted to meet up with my friends.

 
So I walked down a hill and into this water—the warmest, most amazing feeling ever in my life. I never wanted to get out of this water, it was nicer than I ever imagined it would be. Then I woke up and when I opened my eyes and realized I had to go to my regular job and that Tina Fey hadn’t called it was really, really horribly depressing.  It was such a real dream…I was sure that was my real life and this life was just….just the hell I’ve been waiting to wake up from.  

 

The problem with Rachel…

I think about writing a book everyday. But I always run into the problem of what to write about. More importantly, I wonder if anyone will care. Yeah, it’s a problem I should get over; certainly one my good friend Alan would like me to get over because HE cares enough to read me. He’s a sweetheart and I should read his blog more. Anyway…one day—a year ago on October 22, 2008— I was bored at work and decided to name the chapters of this imaginary future book that would chronicle my upbringing and attempt to make reason of why I am the way I am (i.e. having the attitude of ‘Why bother? No one will care.’) The following chapters spilled from my brain rather quickly:

Chapter 1
You Make Me Sick

Chapter 2
Mrs. Claus

Chapter 3
Fat, Fat, Waddle Waddle

Chapter 4
A good pot of gravy

Chapter 5
If you were skinny, I’d be in love with you

Chapter 6
Hives and hospital rooms

Chapter 7
Fish market blues

Chapter 8
Will someone please fuck me?

Chapter 9
Nights in Wisconsin

Chapter 10
You’re so hot you make me shit my pants

Chapter 11
Terrorists in my bed

Chapter 12
Death

Chapter 13
Irreversible

Chapter 14
Too scared to go to lunch

Chapter 15
Freaks, white trash and happiness

The interesting thing about this, apart from it having a shitload of chapters, is that I could pick up where I left off a year ago and support these chapters with content that resides in the front of my mind. That is, if I had to sit down again today, a year later, and write chapter titles, I would have written these exact ones except chapter 7 – Fish Market Blues and chapter 15 – Freaks, white trash and happiness. I have no idea what I meant to say in those and nothing comes to me upon seeing them.

But what this means to me is if these things are still fresh in my mind a year later, maybe they have some validity. Maybe I should write about these things because they played an important role in how I turned out so far. And maybe, just maybe SOMEONE (other than Alan) would care to read them in a book authored by Rachel Butera.

Even though I think I should change my name. Rachel Butera is NOT a writer’s name. It’s not a famous name. I tried to tell my friend Sam this, but he fights me on everything. He said it’s a good name, but that’s only because he knows me already. It’s not memorable. If you saw it on a book cover, it wouldn’t stick in your mind.

Rachel Stein
Rachel Rock
Rachel Vega

THESE are good names you can remember. Well, as good as they can be for “Rachel”. Let’s face it, how many famous Rachels do you know? Before Rachael Ray there were NONE. Now there’s Rachel McAdams, but eh. Even porn stars avoid the name. Girls who get fucked on camera for a living understand that Rachel isn’t a good name for show biz. I think there’s one Rachel in porn and she’s not really famous. She’s in like niche punk-porn.

It’s not a friendly name. It’s not a good name for fame or caring. You don’t care about a Rachel. You want to punch a Rachel in the face. You want tell a snotty, stuck up Rachel to fuck off. You want to ignore a dumpy, nerdy Rachel. You want to throw Rachel an anger-fuck and give her your wrong number.

You don’t want to love a Rachel…but I’m gonna make you love me… Ooo yes I will, yes I will.

RACHEL

This is the problem…

The rub, the bother, if you will. This is the reason I’ve not yet begun a blog. Things happen all day long that I comment on, find fascinating, get angry with, shit all over. But then I sit down to write and can’t think of a single thing to say. Or a single thing that anyone else might find interesting. Maybe focusing on ONE subject makes for a better blog. Food, sex, relationships, shoes (yuck!) I’m not one of those shoe-obsessed girls. And how many more cupcake blogs can one read?

Perhaps I should start at the beginning and simply introduce whoever is out there to whoever I am. After all, how can you believe anything I say if you’ve no idea what kind of a person I am or where I come from?

The following are, I believe, important traits, attributes, facts, and choices that have culminated to create the being who sets forth writing this blog today. There are many things I am not—a good singer, Playboy material, a sky-diver, a salesperson, a sports fan.

But I am:
• a frustrated comedian
• lacking the confidence to give it a go
• working in a corporate job that depresses me daily
• a fat person (have been my whole life)
• a foodie (especially chocolate)
• the youngest of three, succeeded by a middle brother and eldest sister
• the daughter of a dead father
• estranged from my family
• a music and film fanatic
• intensely jealous
• a writer
• a voiceover artist
• desperate to find meaning in MY existence
• good at blowjobs
• wise in my friend selection and having fun with them
• smart enough not to repeat some negative patterns, but
• always self-destructive

This list is not comprehensive. You will have ideas of what I am, and indeed there are surely things I am that I know not of. Perhaps they will be revealed to me by you, the reader. Now then…

Have you had enough for one day? I don’t aim to address everything I am in one sitting. If you’re still reading, I’ll tell you that today I am loving a man I work with whom I’ll call M, for his solid words of wisdom when I asked in one of my self-pitying, childish rages: “Why am I not married with a house and kids? Why does no one want to marry me? What am I doing wrong?” To which he replied simply: That.

And although I know it already—I know that not being comfortable with who I am means I’ve no right to let someone into my life in an intimate way (or expect it)—coming from M it hit me hard and made even more sense.

He described it thusly:

The wife, the kids, my house…that’s just icing on an already beautiful cake. You are the beautiful cake…or the cake that has to become beautiful and happy and satisfied in every way BEFORE you get the icing.

For M I have a feeling of love that’s new to me. It’s more than friendship, less than lovers. I suppose it’s a love of the deepest respect and admiration. Because he speaks to me with selflessness, with no interest other than having my best interest at heart and wanting me to become who he knows I can be. This kind of person in my life is a new thing. A wonderful thing. I didn’t know people like this existed before.

So today, I am:

• thankful for the corporate job that depresses me daily because this is where I met M, one of the most whole human beings I’ve ever known.

I am: Also a softball player