Coffee and Breakfast: Food Letters

Anyone else tired of living off of microwaved food that keeps you alive, but just barely.  You’re not really living.  Well, that’s how I feel.  This is going to be a long one, but I am sure anyone who reads this will be able to scroll.

This first one is to the airman I heard.  I swear I heard and saw a flyer, but I could be crazy it wouldn’t be the first time.  And who does that anyone?!  Who hears a voice and sees them?  Who looks at a person and knows them?  I don’t know.  Too much room and space for doubt.

However, what I saw when I heard him and how I felt like spending time when I heard his voice was a long casual night.  I saw spending a nice night outdoors.  Sitting at a great wood table under a pergola, or perhaps a canvas overhang that still allowed us the view of the stars.  Sharing a few bottles of wine, perhaps both red and white, or maybe just red.  With a spread of tapas to nibble on.  I was thinking of several kinds of olives, a variety of nuts, some slices of cheese – I would have to go to the store to be inspired by the specific choice, I was thinking of something not generic something atypical – some dry salami, some great crusty bread of rosemary with kosher salt on top to dip into olive oil with salt and pepper.

Talking into the night, sharing stories, having fun, just relaxing, no pressure, no struggle to fill awkward silence.  I might tell you the story of how when I was visiting Florida with my family for the first time –  I think I was thirteen – when we went to Circus World.  It changed hands to Baseball City.  Now, I don’t think its open anymore.  However, when we went to Circus World, we went to see one of the shows under the big top.  We were early, there weren’t many people yet seated.  We were trying to catch a break from the oppressive heat.  Thirteen on vacation with my family, sweating balls, and an employee approached me with my family to participate in the acrobat show.  I was thinking, do I have to?  I wasn’t really interested.  I was a teen-ager, I was grumpy-sweating, you get the picture.  They put the apparatus on me, hooked me up, then I climbed the ladder to the top where a clown was waiting.  Can you believe this?  I am not sure they would do this anymore?  No waiver signed or anything.  I mean, thinking of it now.  Anyway, the show started, blah-blah-blah, and its time for me to swing.  The clown goes to give me some chalk for my hands.  I kid you not, I started a fight with the clown.  It was playful.  The audience was laughing.  I batted his advances with the chalk away.  Eventually, I swung through the air several times before falling to the net.  I could have done it better.  I needed to swing more with my legs.  It looks like acrobats use their arms, but I felt it was mostly legs.  The show ended and I am still in the ring as the audience is filing out.  True story, I had random audience members coming up to me telling me how funny they thought I was, almost gushing.  Truthfully, it is the kind of effect I used to be able to have on people if only in a crowd.  I was not nervous.  I never used to get nervous about being in front of people, or a crowd, or performing – ever.  Until, nearly everyone was gone from the big top, my legs started to wobble.  I recovered quickly.

If we are still enjoying each others company and we are still hungry then, I would make a Dagwood sandwich.  I make the best sandwiches.  They are a reason to eat a sandwich.  A Dagwood sandwich of meats, cheeses, lettuce, tomato with salt and pepper, onion, cucumber, sprouts, potato chips, pickles – I think that’s everything.  For dessert, since it is spring I was thinking of a strawberry shortcake.  Made with broken up chunks of Angel food cake, strawberries that have been macerated in sugar with a little lemon.  Topped with real whipped cream – not from a can – and grated nutmeg on top.

Anyways, just for fun.  Just my idea of a casual, fun, relaxing way to enjoy each others company.

Ok, maybe it’s not so long of a post after all because I am tired, my body is broken, and my mind has been spent.

Good night and good morning.


David Wolfe and James Franco

You need to admit your colossal and epic failure.

This marriage proposal has not been real and only been a way to keep a story line going.  At the greatest, this marriage proposal has only been to that Edison character that I NEVER WANTED TO SEE AGAIN FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!  Yet, you have allowed him access and to be near me.

I will never be able to look at the three of you in any way again!  My heart and mind will not change from this.  What you did was WRONG!  You not only deceived me, but you deceived the public into thinking I actually believed this story line.

You force me to be curt and unkind to space.  Because what I want is all three of you OUT OF MY LIFE ONCE AND FOR ALL.  I have been screaming it for years.  And, you knew this.  All the way back to when it happened in 2014, you knew I was never going back.

I am ashamed of knowing any of you.

Time has not made your wrongdoings and mistakes any better.

How could a woman ever think highly, with respect, or affection of a man who has cut her off from her own family, killed her cats, cut her off from the entire world, taken away all her friends, not allowed her to speak her own mind, share her feelings, get upset when she has a right to be angry, or allowed physical contact with real man flesh?!

You have not allowed me to have equal opportunity.  All of you have been fucking whomever you choose while I have been nothing more than a sex slave without the ability to have a real man, and a real relationship.

While feigning love for me?!  I don’t think so.

Worse still, your actions tell me you believe I am a woman with no self-respect.

David Wolfe and James Franco, you need to admit my logic, reasoning, and thoughts on this matter are important, have value, and are greater than your game.

You deceived me.  I never deceived either of you.

I never deceived you.

End it all.


Summer in Oregon

Most days I woke up late, made a big breakfast – usually an omelet – then, set off on my bike to Mt. Hood Community College where I spent the day at the pool.  They had two olympic-sized pools.  One inside and one outside.

This is Oregon.  The saying is you don’t tan in Oregon, you rust.  I always went to the outside pool, unless it was closed for some reason.

I made a big breakfast because I didn’t have money for snacks.  This is middle-school and high school.  I left Oregon my sophomore year.

I am pretty sure the pool was free for some reason.  Student maybe.  I spent the whole day there until I rode my bike home.  I am not sure it would still take 45 minutes from my house to the college now.

This is Oregon.  They have bike lanes there.  This was the eighties and they had bike lanes.  Florida is so far behind.

Unfortunately for me, we left before the Light Rail opened.  We should have stayed.  I could have taken the Light Rail to Portland.

I would come home from the pool with the smell of chlorine clearing my nose.  I loved the exercise, the outdoors, the freedom of my bike.

When in middle school, they had the greatest lunch program that just started.  They had a salad bar.  I piled my plate with everything on the bar – high.  And, I ate it all as I laughed and made all my class-mates laugh with me at lunch.  I was the thinnest I had been except for now.  It has probably gone out of fashion or trend salad bars, but as a kid you need to eat food.  I love vegetables.

No one monitored how much food I had on my plate.  If I had too many garbanzo beans, cottage cheese, lettuce, spinach, three-bean salad, and so on.  It is my favorite all-time school lunch.  The salad bar.

Now, in 9th grade I took a class at Mt. Hood Community College for high school credit.  I took a mime class.  I had been in productions at MHCC.  I was in Amadeus.  Plus, I saw productions there.  I saw Chorus Line there.  It’s a proper theater.

One assignment was to go on stage and mime an activity, then the next person did the same thing as the person previous, then added something.  Then, the next person did the same as the previous persons, added something, and so on.

When I did this exercise, the feedback from my teacher was I did it wrong.  I did not do as the person previous had done it in the exact same location on stage as the person.  I did the previous person’s mime, but I did it where the light was the best on stage.  Hardly bad feedback.  This is how I understood that feedback, Cherith you did the mime exactly the same, however you improved upon it instinctually.

Cut to Florida years later.  I went to Ruth Eckerd Hall and saw Marcel Marceau.  Inches from the stage.  With craned-neck as I looked up at the stage, I got the experience of learning something I never expected.  I was so close I could see the lines and wrinkles in his face through the make-up.  He was fantastic.

This was still the eighties when the Pierrot clown were so trendy and popular.  Mime and Pierrot’s are out of fashion now.  However, what amazed me most of all at Marcel Marceau was his breathing.  He did not exhale at the expected movement.  I don’t know how he did it.  It was fascinating to me.

He died shortly after I got to see him.


I wish I could have written this better, however I am tired and off to bed, three loads of laundry later.

Coffee and Breakfast

Here’s for all the good men and women who might be like me, who enjoy good food, and long for a great bite.  You know, a great bite of food where all the flavors and combinations make a great fork or spoonful.

Perhaps you’re like me unable to get rid of Star Wars once and for all.  I have no idea how to keep Star Wars from delivering Vader food – in other words bad food.  So, I am on another day of fasting.  Plus, I am not allowed to keep a pantry, nor can I afford it.

Or, perhaps you are like me dreaming of working in a restaurant so I could be surrounded by good food.  I imagine it would be fun to work at a place where you shared ideas of dishes and food combinations as part of your every day management.

I am not excluding men or women from this post,  Imagine however you choose as you read.  As for me this is a date day.  Spending the whole day with a good-looking man as I feed him, and talk to him.  Telling him the simple stories that don’t make the headlines, but take root in our hearts.  It’s the small stories that become the great loves.

Breakfast: I love a great fresh brewed mug of coffee.  Cream and sugar, please.  I haven’t had a great mug of coffee in years.  I would make a scone of currents, chopped hazelnuts, and raisins.  Served with finely chopped hazelnuts in whipped butter.  I would need to make this to decide for certain if it needs a glaze on top or a jam.  It could be boysenberry jam, or an orange glaze with more chopped hazelnuts, or both.  One of each.  With mugs of coffee as I tell you stories.

True Story (the Bluetooth and the shrinks know this one): In second grade I was voted Most Talented by my teacher Mrs. Hayworth – or something really close to it.  We were asked to write a story to be shared in some book for the end of the year kind of thing.  So, I wrote about this great, big beautiful mansion-house that had gold fixtures, fine furnishings, and I was the maid.

Because I may have been in second grade, yet I was all too aware of how financially careful we were.  If it hadn’t been for all the jobs my mother had, her careful managing of money, we would never have had anything.  I was never the child that asked to buy things.  I was the child that did not ask, not even for new clothes.

I remember an argument I had with my mother because she bought a marcasite ring.  I love marcasite – it’s this antique thing.  I think the whole reason I was upset is because I was worried about money all the time.  I was worried for them.  Sometimes arguments happen out of concern.

So, I wrote about this great house because I wanted to be in a fancy house far from where I was living.  However, I couldn’t see how to get there unless, I was the maid.

Lunch: This is a little experimental.  I am not sure of all the flavors.  I would have to make it to make sure they taste good together.  It is an open-faced turkey sandwich.  Here’s how I would make it different.  A great slice of hearty grain bread toasted, then chopped romaine, iceberg lettuce, parsley, onion, perhaps tomato, and apple – chopped fine, cobb salad-fine.  I mean the original cobb salad from The Brown Derby.  Then, my cranberry sauce.  I make great cranberry sauce.  It is so good if you don’t like cranberry sauce you will like mine.  You will never want a can of cranberry sauce again.  This cranberry sauce will have a little lemon in it to brighten the flavor.  A good slice of juicy turkey breast with freshly made gravy on top.  I would serve a good stone-ground mustard also on the side.  A light lager if you want something alcoholic, or cucumber-infused water.

True Story: There is this great underground mall in Montreal.  When I visited I purchased these earrings and brooch at an antique store in the mall.  I wore these earrings and brooch when I played Beverly in Shadow Box.  When I went to New Zealand – in a mall again – I bought this great greeting card at an art store.  I love the Kiwi’s.  They are great people.  I love the Aussies too.  Really great people.

Back to Quebec again.  I became a vegetarian after I visited Quebec.  I went to a restaurant on the menu was Hare soup.  I just couldn’t imagine Bug’s Bunny in a soup tureen, so I ordered a fruit salad.  True story.  I remember feeling better a couple of days later when I realized I had stopped eating meat.  I was very overweight at the time.  Because of my lack of provisions, access, and circumstances I’ve had to let go of my vegetarianism.

Dinner: Chive risotto for a starter topped with a freshly grated hard cheese like pecorino or parmesan, fresh cracked pepper, and fresh-cut chives.

The main dish – white fish, panko coated and pan cooked served with a dill sauce.  A side of Brussel sprouts sliced, pan-cooked in butter and sliced almonds.  At the end of cooking before plating fresh ground salt and pepper.  Both the starter and main served with a nice, slightly dry white wine.

Dessert – I want to make this to see if it tastes good.  I was thinking of shortbread cookies and espresso liquer crushed and formed into ramkins.  Creme Brulee with the burnt sugar, topped with raspberries and a raspberry glaze.

Does that sound good?

I want some.

Best Friend?!

Tell me what best friend keeps all possiblity of love away from their best friend?

You must have been speaking about another friend and not me, Cherith Gjestland if you wanted me to believe I was ever your best friend.

A Best Friend does not leave their friend all alone in the world while they enjoy their own marriage.  I’ve seen you David with your wife!

Still the only answer you have is to threaten me, threaten my employment, threaten my income, threaten my job?!  So, that I never speak the truth.

You will never be able to overcome the feelings I now have for you because of this house and these years.

No, James Franco, No!

Marry you?!

Marry a black woman?!

Fuck you!

I will never marry you!

I don’t know you!

Never speak to me again!

Never come near my house!

Never enter my brain!

Never James Franco, Never!

All you know what to do is deceive!

You are the same as David Wolfe, you had to threaten me and my job in order for me to choose you!

You are disgusting!

I am sick of both of you!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Forever Hardened

You choose to start a fight with me.

All I wanted was to speak to you again David Wolfe, you choose to lock me away in prison here for years.

My heart and mind are set against from now on.  They have been set against you for years.  You had to threaten my employment and my job in order for me to continually choose the name David.

I will NEVER love you again.

I will NEVER care for you again.

I will NEVER allow you to humiliate me AGAIN!

You disgust me David Wolfe.

You killed my mother, David Wolfe.

You killed my cats, David Wolfe.

And, in return you expect me to humiliate myself year after year after year after year after year?!


You created a masturbating bear character to make fun of me.  You created these years of isolation, sent nameless, faceless men to my bedroom to watch me masturbate.  And, you EXPECT me to EVER feel anything other than DISGUST for you EVER AGAIN?!

Follow your own damn bunny trail.  I was not about to give that “Casey” character my money or my time again.

I would rather die than EVER see you again.

Are you ready for my death?!

Forever hardened toward you!

Too Heavy

I hate my body because of what you have done David Wolfe and James Franco.

I am not 5’6″ or 5’7″.  I am not model height.  I am only 5’2″.  Five or ten pounds in a big deal.  It is HEAVY.

I hate what you have done with my body shape!  You took away my lean muscles from running and turned me into this bloated thing.

These rounded shoulders that have NO muscles definition.  My bloated calves from you.  And this disgusted belly.

I am disgusted with my body – YOU CREATED!

Not allowing me to run outside, get fresh air, build my lungs, improve my brain, improve my skin, and allow me to make decisions about my body, my fitness, and how I WANTED TO SEE MY BODY is criminal, morally unethical, and a disgrace to every business owner that I could sue for.


I hate to look at myself anymore because of YOU!

Banished From My House Forever

I will not back down from this:

  • The female father needs to go – fired.
  • Baby Underpants needs to go – fired.
  • The cat and dog weight gain tricks need to go – fired.
  • The animal tricks of any kind need to go – fired.
  • The sweaty tricks needs to go – fired.
  • Control needs to go – fired.
  • David Wolfe needs to go – fired.
  • James Franco and his alter ego(s) needs to go – fired.
  • Eyeglasses need to go – fired.
  • The controlling, manipulating women need to go – fired.
  • Yelling at me either in my head or in the surround NEED TO GO – FIRED.

Fire them all – not me.

Do you really want to lose my business everywhere I go?