ThanksGiving for 2 (+3 dogs)

here's the menu


Butternut Squash Soup
Turkey breast rolled around stuffing
Mashed Potatoes
Green Bean Casserole
Cranberry Sauce
Gravy
Chocolate Cream Pie

I'll add recipes and pics later if you click on the soup, the turkey, and the casserole all those recipes are from the innernets.


And it's Nico's 1st Thanksgiving!!

Sarah Cohen Goldstein from MidBeach - JAPerickelah for VP!

In yesterday's festivities and barrage of news coverage, a statistic caught my eye. It claimed that 95% of voting African Americans voted for Obama. All I could think about was the other 5%. I thought to myself, if a Jew was running for Pres or VP, it would be 100%. Then three terrifying words popped into my head. "Sarah Palin 2012."

I tried to think of the Jewish equivelent of Sarah, which is in the header. The thing is, sex and the beach already did it in video as a Cuban drug dealer Mom, Sarah Gonzalez (Here's Why) and with appropriate timing... Oh well..

Anyway, Sarah Cohen Goldstein is just another Cushman Mom in Dior at Epicure. Foreign policy, Hello she lives in My AAAAAhh Meeee? And her baby nurse is from Sweden. Her housekeeper is from Honduras. Her pool guy is Cuban. Her gardener is Mexican. Oy, her house is practically the U.N.!! She can take the heat too, literally, since she has to wear long skirts and long sleeves all the time. Spending? Maverick, Schmaverick, JAPerickelah... Sarah Cohen Goldstein will get a better deal!


So the question is, not to compare the president elect with Sarah Palin, but maybe to some African Americans( that 5%) his ideas rubbed them as wrong as her voice rubbed most of America?? Or is this five percent the SuperRichRepublicanElite? Is this five percent motivated by nothing but the fear of the phrase "Tax increases for the very wealthy?" I don't know, but I sure am curious.

And I wonder, would the Jewish community and religious leaders and the "ahem" Liberal Media Elite ( which are all Jews) urge us to vote for Sarah just because she is Jewish? Did that happen in the African American community? My friend Hansel who spent some time volunteering for Obama happens to think the NAACP comes and takes you away if you didn't vote for Obama. Since he is African American, he is allowed to say things like that, just like I can say that most Jewish women complain a lot.

Either way, I'll be watching for the SWAT teams.

I Voted Today!!

It was nothing like I thought it would be. I arrived at ten-thirty and was done in fifteen minutes. When I was next up to vote, I got that "I'm in another dimension" feeling, and I almost shed a tear. I controlled myself however. I somehow got stuck with the world's crappiest privacy thingy. The left side kept falling down on my head every time I filled a bubble in. At one point I looked around to see if anyone was going to help me with the damn thing, but alas, I just kept on rebalancing it and bubbling away. So many amendments! Also, I think they should tell you if people are republicans or democrats every time. Obama/Biden, No on 2. That's what I went in there for, and that's what I did.

No matter what happens, I am happy today. (Hey Sarah Gonzalez) Here's Why...

George W. Bush will never, ever be our president again! Like EVER! If that man had half a brain it would be retarded...

Also, my IQ is 31 points higher than Sarah Palin's... Maybe I should be the next VP. Just not with any candidate who's party ends with "ublican".

It's Miami- Get Out There and Reggaeton the Vote!

Good Morning Voting Public!!!

I am getting ready to head off to the polls with No Reservations... You know, by Anthony Bourdain?
I have to admit something. This is the first time I have voted. I was eligible to vote in 2000 & 2004 but I was so, as Penn Badgley put it, "Politically apathetic" then. I didn't feel bad about it either - Both elections I lived in a state that's as blue as the winters are cold - Connecticut. I hated-hate-will always hate Bush. Like I've said before, the only Bush I trust is my own, and to be frank, I haven't had one of those since before he took office the first time. I have butterflies in my stomach, perhaps because it's my first date with the polls. Or possibly because I'm hungry. Either way, Obama just voted, so I better get a move on it.


Blogging Buzz

There's been some chatter about opening up a new blog just for my greys recaps. I know it's a good idea, but I haven't been blogging enough other stuff recently to justify starting a whole new blog. Anyone want to send me a Greys layout for the new blogger page and maybe a header too? OK, and maybe a name? As always, email is appreciated. Bohopoetgirl@gmail.com.

Weird Song Wednesday from the vault in my mind

I performed this song in the days when Britney and I looked more alike ( I was blonde, she wasn't fat) on a video that belongs to people I am no longer friends with.. who enjoy showing it to whoever they feel like.... How do I know this? I have been recognized more than once by random, random people in CT as that girl... You know, the one who dressed up in full Britney style get up - knee high boots, a corset, and a really short black skirt,(and yes, underwear) dramatically pulled a tapestry across a curtain rod and jumped down from a lofted bed to sing a song she wrote to the tune of Lucky about all the whorebags at UConn.... At least I used to think they were.... Compared to the men and women of Miami, they were frigid prudes.... End of disclaimer...


"Easy" to the tune of Lucky by Britney Spears

Early morning
she wakes up
with a kick, kick, kick out the door....
Last night's make-up.... wine stained smile
it's not to hard to be a whore ( baby)

Isn't she slutty, this typical girl???

And they say, she's so easy, she's a bike,
and they ride, ride, ride her through the nite
thinking, why the fuck does, this happen to me?
I don't want any... STDs

Lost in Alumni, just 18
and she feels like she's gonna throw up
and his hair is thinning but she keeps on sinning
So tell me, where did she wake up?

Isn't she loose as the Holland tunnel
and they say, she's so easy, the town bike
and they ride, ride, ride her through the nite
thinking, it is hurting, every time I pee
Oh crap I have an STD

Test results: and the winner is, Chlamydia!
I'm Joe Husky standing behind her at the school pharmacy
waiting to spread word of her affliction...

Oh my god, stock up on condoms!

Isn't she slutty, this cow-town bred girl?
She is so easy, and maybe she's Bi
If there's nothing, missing in her life
why does she fuck everyone in sight?

And they say, she's so easy, she's a bike
and they ride, ride ride her through the night
Thinking, I hope no one knows I had an STD
I still haven't finished the b-ball team.....

For my Friends When I'm Away (May 2000)

Regarding the above map in reference to my summer romance with Eli - I spent the first month as a counselor to spoiled slutty hellions. It was like living in a cabin full of myself at that age and it was TOUGH. ( Try sitting in on a meeting about how you let your 12 (but I'm almost 13!) year old camper out of your sight long enough for her to get caught blowing a counselor in training.) Um lets see, I was never there after they fell asleep and the brats weren't morons! Sneaking out to Eli's was easy - he lived in Boy teen village and I lived right across that small path in girls teen. When I went (read: it was mutual) to horseback second session, I lived over near the girls camp, in a staff cabin, past that tennis racket icon... That was what we call the walk of shame, getting caught walking around Lake Wendy in the morning... Luckily horseback staff started way before everyone else, so I usually just brought my work clothes and walked straight to the dining hall from his (literally) tent. At least it had a platform, which was quite useful for late night calls of the wild...
I thought it appropriate to start with some of the poems I copied into this journal from the kind of decrepit notebook only a writer could visualize... This is a fun poem I wrote when I was getting ready to leave for the hills of Georgia...

For My Friends While I'm Away (c)

Do some drugs
and think of me
bitching to bugs
in 110 degree
Georgia sun.
your laugh an echo in my head
I hope my girls don't wet the bed
and that there will be pot to smoke
that kosher food won't make me choke
So shake your head and roll your eyes
but if Orit can do it, so can I
So write me lots and party hard
We'll see if I'm the camp retard
That comes home from a hike to say;
" I lost only one camper, it's been a good day."
In ten short weeks I will return
Of course there'll be a joint to burn
Of course there'll be new boys to meet
preferably ones who eat cheese on meat.

Who was Bohopoet girl 8 years ago??

BohoPoetBookworm

A childhood dream of mine was to have my very own study, one with floor to ceiling bookcases lining one wall. Now I do, complete with navy blue drapes, it's very own bathroom with light blue original tile, and a navy blue futon (if you hadn't noticed, blue is my very favorite color.) Among the books are the references any indigo must have; The only Astrology Book You Will Ever Need, Love Cards, Destiny Cards, Sextrology, and a Tarot Pack..... Also is the countless journals I have kept from the days before blogging and laptops... I just opened one up that Eli (more about him HERE sent me as a birthday present after the summer I spent in Georgia, and I just opened it.

I'm going through it now, and plan on posting some of my writing from that time, a time where my identity was a more than just part of a whole....A time when although I maybe have worshipped Bacchus and Venus more than I ought, I was who I was and you either loved me or hated me....And I truly believed it was your loss should you choose the later...

That's what's so weird about life. We spend so much of our carefree period bitching about our lack of freedom, about how great it will be to have a house and be able to come home or do whatever you wanted with little to no consequences....Now we look back and remember how life seemed spread out in front of us like a buffet of pick your dream or posion....I know it's not too late...All this writing, all these old journals, are letters to myself, written long ago