The New Girl

Calgon, Take Me Awaaaay.

Things here are, as they say, hectic.  Lots to say but no real time or inclination to say it right now, as my sick kid is climbing all over me (literally) as I write this.

I'm curling in on myself, a little.  I'm glitching out, yo.

I'll be back, though.  Don't worry.

Like The DoubleCreep Twins. After A Bender.

You're not going to believe this.

Remember the whole nauseating, what am I going to do about the over-loved lovey? (AKA: The Dou Dou Clusterfuck post?)

And then, there was this cocky-as-hell update?  In which I was going on about how stealthy and smart I was?

Well, take a look at this:

             

HA HA HAAAA!

The Next Top Remodel: Season Two

Here's what I've been doing all week:

.

.

I am nauseated, with a sore throat from the noxious adhesive that they use to attach the drywall.  But the upside is the FREE ENTERTAINMENT.  They bring a Satellite radio and the one guy sings at the TOP of his lungs, in the most HILARIOUS way possible.  And not like, you know, handsome, masculine carpenter songs.

Yesterday, the best one was An Eternal Flame.  By the BANGLES.

He belted out the high note, folks, and I about spit my tea through my nose. 

Another and even BIGGER upside, is the absolute ABSENCE OF SKEEVE.  These are guys who have a very small business, working for themselves, and I gotta tell you.  It's nice (for me, who has a phobia of workmen in the house.)  TLNG stands at the side door when they leave and waves and shouts, 'BYYYYE!' to them and they give her huge smiles and waves and it's just..well, it's great.

But it's been so noisy and stinky that we've been spending a lot of our time out, [sort-of] napping at The Little Sister's house and so, no posting.

Sorry aout that.

But listen!  Sam had her baby!  He's so suuuuper cute.

And The Little Sister is holding on.  But here's a picture of her from last week's yoga class:

I love this picture.  When she saw it, TLS said, 'It kind of looks like I have...like, two asses.'

Happy Weekend!

It's Ernie & Bert. You Say Bert & Ernie And I Say, 'It's A Wonderful Life.'

I am STUNNED.  I am AGOG.

Once again, it appears that my quizzing has brought me [unwanted] unexpected answers.  Can it be that The Man is...well...[in agreement with you crazy people] actually RIGHT a lot of the time?  Have I been dismissing his rightness all these years?  Only to discover that [there are TONS of crazy people who agree with him] with examination of survey results, that his opinion was in line with the majority?

Nah.

I was thinking that it was REGIONAL.  But, perhaps you are all crazy.

The characters Bert & Ernie come from 'It's a Wonderful Life.'  Ernie was the cabby and Bert was the cop (You were close, BMom).

Here is Bert (of Bert & Ernie):

I couldn't find a picture of the two of them serenading.  The internet doesn't think much of cabbies, yo.

NOW.

Onto the Muppets. 

The two "Ever-Loving, Room-Sharing Muppets" are Ernie. and. Bert.

EVERYONE where I live now calls them, like you do, Bert & Ernie.  Everyone from my hometown (and maybe the midwest?) calls them Ernie & Bert.

I picked the picture with Bert first, so as not to draw IRE from The Man, for trying to 'LEAD YOU,' (and it looks like it worked, Julie.) 

But trust me when I tell you that it is almost ALWAYS Ernie first.  For real.

And listen, you don't have to just take MY word for it.  In fact, let's just take a look at the ALBUM, shall we?

Look CLOSELY.

What does it SAY?

I am taking it as EMPIRICAL EVIDENCE.*

Sorry. (I wish I would have bet you each a DOLLAR.)

And listen, you crazy kids, I don't have time to write a post about EACH duo in history.  And I don't want to shock you or anything, but these ladies?

 

Are NOT called, 'Shirley & Laverne.'

Just saying.

*There MAY be another album out there, with a different title.  It doesn't prove a thing. And anyway, to find it?  You'd have to be doing RESEARCH on MUPPETS, just to prove me wrong. Losah.

Weekend Quiz: Sunny Days!

Okay.

Here is my quiz.

Who are these [people] muppets*?

*It's not a trick question about Gay Muppet Marriage or How to Live a Long and Harmonious Life as a "Roommate".  I want to know what you CALL this duo.  As it is with most of my quizzes, it's a long-running stalemate of a domestic squabble.  I have my theories and I will SHARE them on Monday (or Tuesday.)

Catalog Of Mental Glitches*

1. I get completely OBSESSED if there's something stuck in between my teeth.
I cannot REST until it is out.  I will pick, pick, pick.  I'll use a matchbook, some cellophane, a piece of folded paper.  Even in public.  I don't care, I just HAVE TO GET IT OUT.

2. I'm an Inappropriate Laugher.
We've discussed this numerous times before.  If you're a skimmer and/or unfamiliar with the concept, this is an AFFLICTION.  There's nothing humorous about it really.  I have a COMPLETE inability to control my laughter at inappropriate times.  It's awful.

3. I am SEVERELY Directionally Challenged.
I know I've told you this before, too.  It's why I bought the GPS.  And you may think that I'm exaggerating when I tell you that I could get lost along a straight line.  I'm SO, SO NOT.  When I was in Atlanta visiting my BFF, I had a panic attack going to the grocery store by myself.  It was about 3 turns.  When I got back, I couldn't get back into her house.  The key didn't fit and the garage door opener didn't work (even though I kept pushing it and pushing it).  Until I glanced at the house NEXT DOOR to where I was standing (with groceries UNLOADED ONTO THE FRONT PORCH) and saw the garage door GOING DOWN.  OMG.

4. I'm a Guilt Avoider.
I don't avoid feeling guilty if I've done something to feel guilty about but even then, it's usually short lived.  (I don't find guilt very constructive.) I'm Avoidant, though, of people who try to make you feel guilty.  Guilt Inducers.  The only friend to ever call quits on me did so for this very reason.  She was a Big Guilt Inducer and I Avoided the Guilt which would make her, in turn, Induce More Guilt, and so on, until she decided that I just wasn't worth the effort.  It was a little painful but I also have to admit that it was a HUGE RELIEF, to FINALLY not owe her a phone call, during which there was SURE to be Much Guilt Heaped Upon Me.

5. I'm a Pity Avoider.
When my mother was dying, I gave strict instructions to those close to me.  'I don't want anyone saying that they feel sorry for me.'  Those words alone can set my teeth on edge.  It's not just big things that create this reaction in me.  Even during the smallest of issues, someone's overly dramatic sad reaction to my circumstances stiffens my spine.  I'm not sure why [did you say PRIDE?] but when someone is effusive and super emotive on my account, it makes me want to say, 'I'm fine. FINE!' even if I'm totally NOT FINE.

6. I'm a Toucher.
I know that this is not really good.  I try to control it.  I am SO AWARE that there are so many people who don't like to be touched and I really, REALLY want to respect their personal space and all.  It's just, so, AUTOMATIC for me (it is a GLITCH, after all) that I often don't remember that people don't like it until they cringe away from me and/or say something in jest about it.

7. I'm an Over-Tipper.
Self explanatory, that one.

8. I'm Overly Interested in the Occupations of Others.
Woe to you if you have a job that's very different from mine and you find yourself sitting near me at some kind of function.  I have been known to pepper unsuspecting Waste Management Employees with enough questions to write three-part interviews.  I'm fascinated by the nitty-gritty, daily workings of people's jobs.  I've had my [victims] subjects say to me, 'You can't really be INTERESTED in this stuff.'  But oh, oh.  Yes I AM.

9. I am a Message Reviewer.
If I've ever left you a voice mail, chances are very, very [100% sure] good that I've reviewed the message before you heard it.

10. I am a Message Re-Recorder.
I don't even want to THINK about my record for the number of times that I've re-recorded the SAME message on someone's voice mail.

11. I am an Isolator.
When I am feeling low, I cut the fuck OUT.  So, just when I could probably use the company/socialization the most, I drop off of the Earth, only to return to socializing when I'm feeling better.  SUPER!

[Edited to add:]
12. I'm a Jewelry-Taker-Offer.
If I happen to be wearing jewelry that day, it's the first thing to go when I get home.  It, like, starts griping at me, the minute I walk in the door.  I've had to train myself to wait until I get into my room, so all my shit doesn't get lost, throwing here and there, willy nilly.  People who SLEEP and SHOWER in their jewelry?  I DON'T GET YOU.

*Not an exhaustive list, for sure.

Ripped Off Recipes And Original Chocolate Sauce.

Okay so [a couple] dozens of you wanted that fettuccine recipe that I made for the Friday MIL dinner.  I got it from this book:

So, I don't know if I'll get sued for reprinting it, but I'll just tell you that you should also BUY the book because it has some great recipes that aren't super labor-intensive but are still a little more elegant than [my] everyday fare.

Anyway, this recipe is super-simple and I'll just go over what I do.

Ingredients:

Pound of Fettuccine (I use the Buitoni fresh fettuccine and it has 9oz per package so I just adjust everything else to a smidge more.)
1/2 cup chopped walnuts
2 TBS chopped fresh basil (or parsley but the basil is yummy.)
1/2 cup MASCARPONE cheese
3 TBS butter (I use smart balance 50/50 blend and it's still great.)
Salt/pepper to taste

Like I said, I adjusted for a smidge more of everything.

You toast the walnuts in a skillet over medium heat, until they become, you know, toasty.  I just wiped out that huge non-stick skillet and did the sauce in there.

Boil the water for your pasta.  If you're making dried, cook it while you make the sauce and reserve some of the cooking water.  If you're using fresh, wait to throw the pasta in. 

In the skillet, melt the butter and add in the nuts and the basil and warm through.

When the pasta is done, I used tongs to pull it out of the water and put it, dripping, right into the pan with the butter.  I then scooped out some of the mascarpone and then put more dripping pasta on top and then a few more little scoops of marscapone and then I used the tongs to mix it thoroughly.  You salt/pepper for taste and add a little bit of the pasta water if it is too sticky and/or dry. It is very nice.

Now!

Onto dessert!

For the MIL dinners, I always have something to finish off the meal and to make it a little special.  In the summertime I would whip some cream and put it over berries with a few chocolate shavings, you know, like that.  Nothing CRAZY.  Since I'd already made cookies the day or two before, I decided to make a homemade chocolate sauce for some vanilla ice cream.  I had NO idea how to do it but this is what I did and it turned out GREAT.

Ingredients:

1 bar of 60% cocoa dark chocolate (I used Ghirardelli), chopped into little bits.
About 1/4 - 1/3 cup half & half (I didn't have heavy cream)
dab of butter
2 drops vanilla
1 tsp powdered sugar

I put the finely chopped chocolate into a bowl. 

I heated the milk to bubbling in the microwave.

I poured the hot cream onto the chocolate and stirred it with a whisk, until the chocolate melted.  I whisked in the vanilla, the butter, and the powdered sugar.  I let it cool a little and then put it over vanilla ice cream.

So, So good, yo.  It made quite a bit, though.  I gave the rest to The Little Sister (she came and got that shit with the quickness.)  Tasting it right out of the bowl, it wasn't too sweet but it made a great compliment to the sweet ice cream.  It wasn't thick and gooey, like hot fudge but it was thick and tasty enough to be satisfying.

xo

Fun Fact Friday (Finally!)

* I am sitting in a Starbucks right now.  I paid the babysitter to come and stay while I did tedious errands (taking my car to get fixed--AGAIN), going to the post office (Books are in the mail, Sam! Giftie on its way, Swistle! Rest of the Christmas presents headed your way, Kristen!) But there was no line at the post office and the car place had to order parts and so, BONUS, Starbucks/post writing trip.

*  Finding wrapped or unwrapped Christmas presents, somewhere in the house, sometime after Christmas, leads me to believe that I really, really AM turning into my mother.  It was one of her 'trademarks.'  Happened EVERY. YEAR.

* My mother's record for latest/earliest (depending on how you're judging) Christmas Present was, erm, MAY, I believe.

* One of my grandmother's trademarks was leaving something (usually the sweet potatoes) in the microwave during the Thanksgiving Dinner.  While the dishes were being done, she'd find the pyrex bowl (topped with MELTED SARAN WRAP) in there and CURSE. 

* I have entered this weird phase of Facebooking, when there are enough of my old friends found that the *ehem* PHOTOS are making the rounds.  I have to tell you, despite being a frigging PHOTO MAJOR, I have uhhh, like THREE photos of high school, THREE photos of college, FOUR photos of grad school and they're all, like, LOST.

* My group in high school was made up of both guys and girls.  Mostly with permed mullets, wearing copious eye-makeup and bandannas everywhere.  I have to tell you, it doesn't look as good from the year 2009.  However, with the exception of TWO people, I'd be FB friends will all of these crazies again.

* This one guy was always toting around a freaking DISC camera--do you even remember those?  Never for a MILLISECOND, did I consider a futuristic world that would allow for the preservation of these prehistoric images, let alone conceive of a medium through which they could be published in such a way that not only _I_ would be subjected to them but that they would be made available for crazy semi-public consumption.  It is the FUTURE, old-heads.

* I'm doing my first repeat for the MIL dinner.  Fettuccine with mascarpone, toasted walnuts and basil.

* One of my trademarks is my inability to properly pronounce 'mascarpone.'  I ALWAYS say, 'Marscapone.'

* Right this very second, the barrista is trying to pick-up the handsome bread delivery guy.

Why The Stock-Boy Should Not Be Skating On THAT Pond.

I am [thinking about] working on the *review(ish)* of the Twilight Saga and its accompanying The New Girl's Sucky Give Away but believe it or not, I feel like I may actually have to THINK a little to write that and in the midst of a week that includes phone calls and/or appointments with: House Appraisers, Estate Planners, Basement Remodellers, not to mention the gosh-darn Group Play-Date, I just don't have it in me to think up enough adverbs to do the review(ish) justice.

So.

There's this. 

This weird little story that is stuck in my head.  It happens to me sometimes, little things that irritate or anger me that just kind of, fester in my head.  Incidents or occurrences that make me irate, and that if I was [who I am supposed to be] a different kind of person, would spur me to action (insofar as action implies 'write a letter or talk to the manager or something.')  For instance, there was the time at a car rental place, where the guy was SUCH a douche bag, it was UNREAL.  He kept asking if I wanted the extra insurance and I kept saying 'no,' and then he said, 'well, then, I'm not releasing the car to you.'  And then I said, 'Well, then, WHY did you ASK me if I wanted the extra insurance?' And he said, 'Because I wanted you to make the correct decision.'  I DID talk to the manager in person and got the car without the extra insurance and [prayed like hell to EVERYONE WHO MIGHT BE GOD that I didn't wreck it] swore that I'd write a letter.  Then there was the time that I got a collection letter from my doctor's office (when I'd never been notified that there was a balance) and the letter was STRAIGHT UP ghetto, yo, with like, attitude, and typos and grammatical errors throughout.  Both of those things happened to me MORE THAN TEN YEARS AGO.  But thinking about them right now?  I can feel the [bitter resentment] those same feelings from way back then.  I could go on and on.

But where was I?

Today's strange but unsettling situation.  Which, I assure you, is as idiosyncratic and [pointless] minute as the rest--so if you choose to bug the hell out right now, I won't [even know] hold it against you.  I'll set it up (because it's not bad enough to bore you with minutiae, I have to give you the effing BACKGROUND also.)

The Little Sister and I patronize a local health food store, which is small and expensive but carries the necessary [ooga-booga, witchcrafty type] organic items to carry us over between shops at the big store.  Typically, when I go there, TLNG grabs this little mini-me cart they have and rolls it around the store, [packing that little fucker full of items off every. shelf. in the joint] filling her little basket with things [that I unsuccessfully try to re-shelve] to occupy herself.  I asked one time if it was all right and the woman in the vitamin aisle told me that it was fine.  It's like, 4-6 bottles (because that's all she can fit in that little cart.)

So, last week, The Little Sister and I went together.  TLNG was doing her thing as I scrambled from aisle to aisle (filling my reusable bags) with eleventy-billion dollars worth of [hocus-pocus] items.  As The Little Sister rounds the corner into [TLNG's playground] the vitamin aisle, she hears the annoyed associate (who is standing between her and her niece) complaining about [me abandoning my child to shop] my daughter. 

"Can't we SAY something about this?  It's EVERY WEEK."

The Little Sister's [hormonal, pregnant] hackles went up and she said, 'Someone told her that it was okay to do and EXCUSE ME so I can GO GET HER.' He mumbled something about not meaning to be rude but there is was.  The Festering Story Du Jour.

The Little Sister told me about it and together it festered a little and we griped here and there and now it's about four days later and it still riles me a little.  And here's the thing: I'm not looking for the, 'Oh, you're so RIGHT!  He SUCKS! And he's stunting TLNG's EXPLORATION TIME! And you should go to WHOLE FOODS like the rest of the world!' because there's part of me that knows he's RIGHT.  It's not like I should be leaving her to TURN THAT MUTHA OUT, so I can get a little shopping done. (And so all you shelf-stockers can just SIMMER DOWN.  I know it's annoying when people come in and fuck up your shit.)

I kind of DID want to write them a letter, though.  Regardless.  I don't know why, because like I said, I think that he was right.  It's just that, I'm a loyal customer.  Spending more money to support the little guy and give that [fucker stocking the shelves with powdered eel testicles a secure job in this AWFUL ECONOMY] mom and pop shop a chance.  If I DID go to Whole Foods like the rest of the world, I could save money.  And although I wouldn't leave TLNG alone there, even one aisle over, I doubt they would even CONSIDER saying something about it with a customer in ear-shot.  Probably because they wouldn't even notice until we were l o n g gone.

And there you have it.

The punchline to finish the title of the post comes from a saying that I took from my friend, The Kid.  The line began as a retort whenever she and her friend Mike (of Crazy-Racist Carny Story fame) got into an argument and the other tried to joke about it before they had cooled-off sufficiently.  It eventually grew to encompass various and sundry other 'unresolved issues' (i.e. festering stories.)

It went like this:

Mike: 'Heh heh.  You said (whatever she said)'

The Kid: 'Don't skate on THAT pond, Mofo. It ain't FROZEN yet.'

Oh, It's Just Like A Monday.

If I had [the time] [the patience] the intestinal fortitude to write a real post right now, I'd tell you some interesting things.  But I don't.  And I'm stuffy (for no obvious reason) and I have work to do (which I had a GAZILLION days to do but I waited until the LAST POSSIBLE MINUTE, obv) and my kid is not sleeping (OMG, I PUT HER IN THE CRIB AND OVER AN HOUR LATER, SHE'S STILL AWAKE. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING? WHY IS SHE AWAAAAKE? WHYYY?) and my Christmas tree is down and I cleaned all day for a GROUP playdate on Tuesday (just shoot me now because this is what I'm reduced to as the result of having no friends) and there's a weird, strong, garlicky smell where I am but I can't figure out where it's coming from and I'm thirsty and I don't have any friends and I have to WORK tomorrow.

============================================================================================

Stay tuned, though.  Coming up this week, my spoiler review of the Twilight *Saga* and a giveaway that kind of sucks.  HA HA HAAA!  Oh, I KILL me.