Talking to Dead People and Eating Cheesy Potatoes

I wanted to write about the wife’s most recent efforts with cheesy potatoes, but that’s gonna have to wait until after my Moriah the Medium report. Friend Mjagger (as introduced in blog April 12, 2006—you know, the Madonna-ticket-frenzy-friend), her sister Bon Jovi & the wife had the delightful opportunity last night to go out for dinner with our favorite medium, Moriah the Happy Medium. (Shame on you if you haven’t read my previous blog about Moriah—go back and read THURSDAY, JANUARY 5, 2006. How else will you make sense of Grover if you don’t go back and read the January 5th entry?). Moriah the Medium (from here on out to be known as MTM—and that is NOT Mary Tyler Moore, but Moriah the Medium) was in town to do some readings, as scheduled by Mjagger. (What? Do you think we work at work? No—we sit around and schedule mediums to come see us. We have priorities, you know.)

Before I go any further, I want to remind you to do two things: after reading this blog, go to amazon.com and order MTM’s book; and, email Oprah (www2.oprah.com) and tell Ms. O she needs to have MTM on as a guest. You can click on my link to MTM’s book “How to be a Happy Medium” if you are too lazy to go to amazon.com. You’re on your own to find Oprah’s website. (Yes—that’s www2 in Oprah’s address—that’s the newest in web addresses. Leave it to Oprah to get on the WWW2 before everyone else. I thought it was WWOD2 but its just WWW2.)

Anyway, I could go on and on for days about MTM’s readings for the various subjects. It’s always very amusing (in a good way) and usually incredibly amazing for all. (One lady yesterday wasn’t amazed, but she probably was just a cheap-ass-poopy-butt.) My mother will be happy to know that Grandma G was hanging out with me and that my spirit guide was smoking a corn-cob pipe. (This will make sense to my mother. It made sense to me.) Grover the Spirit Guide was also smoking a joint, but that’s a whole ‘nother story. (We WON’T go there.)

Skeptics come out of sessions with MTM as believers. Believers come as believers squared. (It’s not scary. Really. You’re not going to go to hell because you went and talked to a medium. Her head doesn’t spin around. Split-pea green vomit does not spew out of her mouth….well, not that I’ve seen, but I suppose she might have done it during other sessions. That’d be cool, anyway, if it happened. I just hope I am present when it does happen.) Ms. Medium communicates with animals—dead or alive--and anyone who has that skill can’t be all that bad in my book. I’m not sure it’s even “bad” that we held the medium party on the Lord’s Sabbath. (First, bowling for Jesus; now, Mediums in place of Mass. Maybe I am going to hell.)

The “party” was a success, as reported by the attendees. Mjagger got some answers about her daughter and the crucifix, Bon Jovi got to talk to her grandmother & Workgirl (a new character to this blog) got to talk to her dog who just “passed over.” I’ll leave the personal stories to the owners of the stories, but suffice it to say that more than one person came out with a tear in her eye. After the day’s activities were over, we went out for dinner. How many people do you know that can say they have gone out to dinner with a medium? You really should try it. You can scare people right out of the restaurant when you start talking about dead people & spirit guides at the dinner table. (Well, maybe it was the talk about poop and dildos that scared them away, but I still think it was the dead people. I, by the way, was NOT the person who spoke of dildos—I was focused on the poop. Even I blushed about that one. I’m a poop girl.) I’m not kidding—I think we stunned some patrons into horrified silence. If you can do that, you know your day has been worthwhile....

As for the wife's cheesy potatoes, I hadn't mentioned the "Easter Cheesy Potato Incident" until now, as it didn't seem wise to bring up any sooner than I am doing right now. The wife's Land-o-Cheddar-sister makes the ultimate, universe's-best cheesy potatoes. For some reason, even tho she claims she is using the same cheesy potato recipe as her sister, the wife's cheesy potatoes fall short of the prize. (Do you think it's because we don't live in the Land-o-Cheddar? Maybe "Penny Heads" can't make Cheesy Potatoes like they can across the border.) The most recent disappointment came at Easter (yes, the Bowling for Jesus Easter Dinner). My family and I dug in to those potatoes....and.....and, well, let's just say they weren't her sister's award-winning, mouth-watering winners. We ate them, but I couldn't help repeating, "these just aren't as good as your sister's." (Never a good thing to say to anyone, especially a spouse.)

This led to emailing back and forth to the sister, who claims--swears--the wife has the exact same recipe. I think she's holding out on some secret ingredient so no one will ever be able to make the same delicious morsels as she can. The wife got all the directions and made yet another batch of Cheesy Potatoes. This time, they looked a lot better--I think it was the tinfoil (which, in all previous attempts, the wife had omitted--sister says tin foil is imperative and I believe her). I scooped out a steaming hot pile of potatoes (as illustrated in the photo of the steaming hot spuds--isn't that cool that you can see the steam?!), dug in and.... yes! this was much closer to the "real" thing. Two thumbs up for the wife. Maybe her sister wasn't really holding out secret ingredients. I ate so many potatoes that I gave myself a stomach ache. Now, she'll just have to make some for my family so they can experience "true" cheesy potatoes....