Saturday, August 29, 2009

An overweening interest in humanity

Expressing some basic human emotions--tragedy, ecstasy, doom, and so on...
The song Big White Gate by Grace Potter & the Nocturnals inspired this one--Please listen to it while you look at this photo. Not only will you understand its meaning more, but you may even shed a tear.

This one will pick you right back up, but only if you listen to Stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again by Cat Power. To be honest, any time I need a little lift me up, I blast this song on our speakers. Plus, who doesn't love Cat Power, and of course, my sexy red-haired lady...her name is Ginger.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Sitting Duck

First of all, I think everyone should know that Henry was a huge success last night. In fact, and I quote, Joey said, "Henry did not die in vain babe." Oh, how that man knows the way to make me feel less like a bird killer...

Anywhoo, today I received an interesting email from my Lily Pulitzer clone of a mother--and it looked something like this:
Subject: From Mom (uh-oh)
That's it. Just and some hugs and kisses. Well, yes Mom, I have been desperately trying to find a job for, oh, two weeks, but don't nonchalantly send me silly emails like that--because let me tell you a little something about Unless you enjoy wearing hair nets-hanging with toothless co-workers-eating unhealthy foods, then well, I'm sorry-the website is hopeless. And believe me, I don't want to belittle anyone who is in that sort of industry, but hey, I still have some city gal in me. That website is belittling ME by even opening in my browser. To be honest, I have never seen more Pizza Hut and Boston Market job openings in a single sitting. Do I love Boston Market mac-n-cheese every blue moon? Yes. Do I want to serve it curbside with a side of cornbread? No, thank you. Also, Mom-for someone as proper and conservative as yourself, would you really want your daughter delivering pizzas or roasting hundreds of Henry's a day? Oh, and I definitely can't forget to mention the numerous U.S. Army opportunities I saw on that website. ARE YOU ARMY STRONG? Nope. And if I joined the army, my mom would shit herself.

But on a serious note-I sincerely do want a job. While I know I am lucky to have an abundant amount of work during the final semester of my senior year of college, for some reason I just want something more (insert sarcasm). My schedule is in fact...well, basically non-existent...and I am actually starting to see myself getting wildly weirder as the days progress in this Arizona heat. I currently have three online classes, all of which are related to parenting-(embarrassing)-and two classes that I truly love on campus-a Religion seminar and Black & White photography class.

So, I decided to take the liberty to do the math of my wasted time for you, and well, for myself.

1 day=24 hours
Monday-Friday=120 hours
A full week=168 hours
Hours on campus per week=7 hours
Hours of sleep per week=30 hours (stupid insomnia)

And finally, wasted hours during the week-(weekends can obviously be wasted so we won't count those days)-A grand total of...83 stinking hours. Shoot. I guess to make myself feel a tad bit better, we will just say that about 40 of those hours are spent taking photos-reading-saving the world-painting-drinking the vino-being an unmarried housewife-day dreaming-and last but not least, attempting to cook from Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking (you have NO idea how long any recipe takes). So, ultimately, we are still looking at a large/bewildering sum of 43 hours wasted during the week...I need a job ASAP--At least for the sake of my sanity. Oh, and to keep up with Joey. His work ethic is sickening. Not sickening in the way that I was going to vomit when I discovered my wasted hours, but in the sense that if he is idle, not working, for merely two days, he's "work frustrated". Slightly different from sexually frustrated for two reasons--one, I am the best girlfriend in the world and I never allow that to happen--and two, well, I am the best girlfriend in the world. Either way, he makes me look like a sitting duck. And when I say sitting duck, I want you to picture me with an orange flat bill, webbed feet, and a body of white feathers, relaxing in the sun poolside-probably drinking some wine-well, definitely drinking some wine-portraying Michael Bedard's famous lithograph. Look it up, smile, and then understand that his artwork is what my lovely man has to come home to. However, I would not be myself if I did not look at the bright side of this unemployment situation. So, in the mean time, as I not-so-patiently await replies from employers, I am not going to open any emails from my mother with the subject 'From Mom', and I am going to continue saving the world...preferably by the pool.

But first! A short little story...

My dearest friend Jessie is enough inspiration for a book alone (another time, another story) and as one of my biggest supporters in pursuing my dreams, she said something extremely captivating to me yesterday--BUT, before I quote her, I have to set the record straight even before it is crooked. Jessie is not even remotely as gracious or poetic-(that is, except in school and with me)-as this comment will make her seem. But don't worry, you will learn this rather bluntly in the near future.

"A reader will only continue to read something if you are able to surprise them and evoke feelings/emotions they can't get from anywhere else." J.K.R.

First and foremost, a big thank you to my other half...the one person who I believe knows me better than I know myself. Why? Well, simply because I know the hidden notion behind her too affable of a remark is in fact, "Liz, let your guard down, write exactly what you feel, and make it fucking outrageous."

So, thank you Jessie. And to any readers--if you are, in fact, out there--I want you to know that as I continue to discover myself as a writer/photographer, I truly hope you will follow me along the yellow brick road to reach the Emerald City, because...
"In the land of Oz, we are all small children walking down a road of yellow brick in a crazy, outlandish, ozzy sort of world."
L. Frank Baum


Thursday, August 27, 2009


First off, I believe it is necessary to begin this blog by expressing that it is only 11:00 A.M. in Arizona right now, and I feel like I have successfully completed an entire day. Secondly, anyone reading this who knows me--that is, if anyone is even reading this at all--knows that I name every single pet-animal-creature-alien-anything really...Henry. So, naturally, I had to name the whole chicken stewing in my crock pot Henry. As a former vegetarian, now turned carnivore again, I feel as though poor Henry is screaming at me trying to escape his inevitable third death/slaughter. Either way, let's just put it this way--after having to move the "young chicken" from it's packaging, clean the bird, and throw it in its dungeon, I washed my hands clean of the job. Actually, I scrubbed them clean with lots of antibacterial products. Anyway, enough of my ranting, let's get to the yummy part--the end result!

But first-Just in case anyone who is reading this and does not know me--once again, if anyone is even reading this at all--I feel compelled to give a brief biography.
Full Name: Elizabeth Stowe (last name revoked for stalking purposes)
Interesting Fact: I was named after Harriet Beecher Stowe, who wrote Uncle Tom's Cabin--which everyone should have learned about in 7th grade History class--and as an avid reader, I'm ashamed to say I have not read it, but have a copy on my ghetto bookcase (another story, another time)
Hometown: Dear old Rumson, New Jersey. Born a city gal in Manhattan, but always a Jersey girl. You should definitely listen to the song Jersey Girl by Bruce Springsteen (the Boss)--it is the song I have tortured men with in the past. Also, to toot my own horn right now, I was lucky enough to live a few doors down from the Boss himself. Yes, be jealous.
Age: I was born just short of being a Valentine's Day baby--February 15th. I am twenty two, and yes, very confused.
Currently: Well, in a nutshell, I am currently living with two fools in Arizona, and finishing up my last semester of undergrad at ASU for Religious Studies. I am avoiding the real world at all costs--Grad school it is! I live in a very whimsical fantasy world where Joey, my baby girl Roxie-not a baby, a cockapoo-my family, and my savvy girlfriends, could all peacefully live and drink vino all day and eat lots of cheese and crackers. Yum. Oh, and have all of the money in the world...preferably so I can buy myself a ring and slip it to Joey to give it to me.

...However, I can't give everything away quite yet, I mean, if I DO have readers, I want you all to come back!

So, back to Henry it is!

What's in store for din din--Chicken Enchiladas with "Usable Chicken" a la Regina Murphy and a fabulous bottle of Pinot Grigio--but, probably beer for my man, because I don't share the goods...



Usable Chicken a la Slow Cooker

1 Whole Chicken or Package of your favorite parts (gross)
4 cups of water
2 tbsp parsley
2 tsp garlic salt
1-2 bay leaves
1 tbsp minced onion
1 tsp Lawry's seasoning salt

Place all the ingredients in crockery to create a magical/scrumptious Henry

Cook on low for 6-8 hours
Cook on high for 3-4 hours

**Gina, my second mother/idol says that this recipe is a great one to do the night before & that you can use the chicken in any sort of casseroles-soups-etc. And believe me, take her advice, because she raised five Irish screaming boys. Meggy, the youngest and only daughter, was the last of the litter, and a saint. I honestly could boast about Meggy and Gina forever so I'll stop there--but hmm, there's an idea for another post**

Chicken Enchiladas a la Henry

One crockery of Usable Chicken (the name makes me laugh)
1 can (4 oz) chopped green chiles
1 onion-diced
1 batch Mexican gravy, AKA Enchilada sauce--Gina says store bought is perfect
4 oz of each: Monterey Jack and Cheddar Cheese-grated
1 can chopped olives
1 dozen corn tortillas

Filling: Skin, debone, and cut-up Henry (see, now it's his fourth slaughter) Stir in chiles, onion, and one cup of gravy

Assembly: Dip tortilla in gravy and lie flat. Fill the center with 3 tbsp. of filling and roll tightly. Place seam side down in a 9X13 pan. Pour any extra sauce of the top. Cover with cheese & top with olives.

Bake 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Serve with sour cream and erase all notions of Henry said here from your mind!

Thank you Gina and Henry.

Well ladies and gents, back to my semi-real world, I have tons of photos that need editing.

Bon Appetit!

Wednesday, August 26, 2009


Whitney, my ballerina extraordinaire girlfriend, decided to audition for So You Think You Can Dance--And guess who was lucky enough to be asked to take her head shots? As you are about to see, capturing the perfect photo with someone as beautiful and fabulous as Whit is quite simple.
P.S. Amiee Joy Krasner needs
to be given credit here as well for being my muse
& therapist.