I was living for a dream, loving for a moment
Taking on the world, that was just my style
Now I look into your eyes
I can see forever
The search is over
You were with me all the while.
(Not enough brain energy for words today, so I have decided to express my feelings through song and art.)
Recipes are so boring but I really wanted to share this for the good of the order. 20 minutes from start to finish, only one dirty dish in the process, and zero cooking/baking dramz… just sit back and put that slacker microwave to work! And I think they are the cutest darn thing ever, except they are not the most photogenic. They are way cuter in reality. Trust.
So it’s just fluff between graham crackers, then dipped in milk chocolate chips melted in the microwave. (I also threw in a little butter, peanut butter, and vanilla extract with the chocolate… AKA the Chex Muddy Buddies formula… extra super awesomeness). And decorative sprinkles=REQUIRED.
I know what you’re thinking…
Wow. A female on the internet took a picture of her manicured hands holding junk food ironically. What a pioneer.
I KNOW WAIT hear me out. You need to know about this frozen yogurt. And you know this is not just a veiled attempt for me to show off my perfect nails/life because as you can see, the manicure has been decrepit since, like, Tuesday, and my thumb cuticles have once again borne the brunt of my anxiety complex. So really this picture is kind of embarrassing. Also you should know that when I showed up at Red Door for said manicure last week, I was 25 minutes late, disheveled, soaking wet, and still with a 9:30 Club stamp on my hand from the night before. And then I paid with a gift card, a surprise to nobody in the establishment.
So, Yogen Fruz. Awesome. It’s just one of those trendy, yuppie frozen yogurt places where you go in and they have a bunch of trendy, yuppie fixings you can put on your yogurt like Fruity Pebbles and Cheerios and omg so inventive. The fixings are billed on the menu as: “Toppings: $1.45″ which I assumed meant $1.45 for each topping, which is ridiculous, obviously, but again, “pricing yourself out of the market” is not really a concern when you’re working with trendy yuppies and their lupine lust for frozen yogurt. Myself included, shamefully.
BUT. People. The menu catch is in fact that you pay $1.45 for as much of the crap as they can fit into the bowl.
“Well then! In that case I’ll take a large… with strawberries…”
nom nom nommles nom nom
“Blueberries…”
Morffle Snorffle Snarffle Marffle
“Coconut…”
Moooorrrrrre
“Cashews…”
Ooohhhhhh yea that’s right that’s the stuff heap it on there mmmm hmm
“White chocolate…”
DROOL, PANT
“Dark chocolate…”
Hooooooooo baby
“That other chocolate looking thing…”
“Umm ackshually those are carob chips”
“WHATEVER they’re getting masticated.”
Proud moments.
Do you know why I thought it meant $1.45 for every topping? The other week when BFF Luna was in town we went to brunch (We had grand plans to do outdoor DC things but it was in the 30′s with high winds so peach mimosas won that battle). I ordered this yummalicious salad, which was listed on the menu with this denotation: “Add shrimp: $2″
What does that statement mean to you? Most people I polled had the same reaction as me, which was that for a surcharge of $2.00, one got the addition of a modest smattering of shrimp. Like, I don’t know, five of the little effers?
After I ordered it, our waiter came back and said “I’m sorry, I forgot to ask how many shrimp you wanted?”
“Whuh…umm… the menu… it just said $2 to add shrimp? So… I would like to accept… that option?”
“No it’s $2 PER shrimp.”
“….What?”
“Yes?”
“Umm wow… I have to say I was not prepared to quantify my shrimp desire at this level so… like… 2 I guess? Is that a normal number to say?”
WTF. I don’t know what to believe anymore.
Preface: Allow me to introduce you to the tastiest, yummiest salad and the easiest meal ever. I am a total sucker for all those links proffering “Weeknight Meals in 20 Minutes!” blah blah blah Rachel Ray blah blah. And then you click it, and all the recipes start with “Preheat oven to…” and “In a large skillet…”. NO. Heating things=cooking things=400 things to clean. Which is all well and good if cooking a nice dinner is the one extracurricular activity you planned for the evening, but if you’re interested in doing anything else with your time away from work, I require recipes that are more along the lines of combine-this-and-this-and-ta-da-you’re-done-collect-100-gold-star-wife-points.
Which is what this salads is! It is an exact replica of the Santorini salad from Sweet Green, which is one of the most delicious things in the universe, but, you know, prohibitively expensive for regular consumption.
The picture looks like dog barf but I swear it’s really good:
Here is the formula: Romaine+garbanzos+grapes+feta+shrimp+splash of lemon juice+Gazebo Room or whatever greek-ish dressing you have access to. BAM. The shrimpies were just the pre-spiced, pre-cooked ones from the cooler at the store. I guess it would be more laborious if you had to cook the shrimp.
Okay… Now… My commuting problem.
We had a little left over so I brought it in to eat at work today. (Gold star frugal wifey WOO!). I got around to eating it at like 3:00, so by the time I was rushing out the door at 5:10, the empty tupperware was still on my desk. I was in a super rush to make the 5:30 bus, so ended up just putting the lid back on the tupperware and throwing the whole thing in my purse and running out the door. Why didn’t I make my way to the office kitchen at 5:08 so I could rinse and dry it before departing? I don’t have the answer to this question. It’s probably the same reason that I, once again, was sprinting after the bus this morning like a wild woman because I cannot get my mess of a self to the corner at the proper time. Jeff is dumbfounded as to why I can’t wake up 60 seconds earlier so I don’t keep missing the bus by 10 seconds. It seems so simple, doesn’t it?
I had one of those foreshadowing moments of clarity as I was carelessly tossing the tupperware into my bag. Because from past experience I do know you cannot trust anything in a purse no matter how well you think it’s secured. I swear I’m just walking around with this thing over my shoulder at 2 miles per hour, I really don’t know where these crazy forces of physics and nature are coming from that turn my bag into a vessel of absolute destruction. You leave the office with everything perfectly nestled in the little compartments, and 30 minutes later it’s: Headphones? Crushed. Sunglasses? Dismembered. Wallet? Has inverted itself and dumped $8.54 in pennies into the purse abyss. Cell phone? It’s unlocked itself and is dialing someone who lived on your floor freshman year who is inexplicably still saved in your contacts 9 years later.
So as I’m looking at this tupperware with about 3/4 tablespoon of dressing residue swirling around the bottom, I’m very clearly saying in my head: Self….. seeeelf? This is not a good idea, self. Come on. Go be a good girl and rinse this thing out. BUT NO! I thought of my embarrassing morning moment and reminded myself that saving 60 seconds and catching the preferred bus would get me home 20 minutes earlier.
I was about 3 minutes into my commute when I noticed a slight liquidy sheen on my wallet as I swiped through the metro turnstile. Yep. Somehow, someway, the bond of bowl-to-lid had been compromised. Odd, because it was intact upon inspection! ONCE AGAIN… mysteries of the Bermuda Triangle of the Handbag.
And here is where the fun starts. One warning about my knock-off Sweet Green salad: SHRIMP-JUICE-RESIDUE-STUFF IS SMELLY. Like, WAY smelly. I’m not exaggerating. I wasn’t noticing it “only because I was looking for it.” I was most certainly aboard the train with a very strong fish stench wafting from my general direction. Lolololololol MORTIFYING.
It was kind of one of those moments where I was like… Is this going to be more awkward if I bring this up and explain it to the person next to me? (I decided yes, yes that would be more awkward). So now I feel like I need to post, like, a reverse missed connection on Craigslist:
M/F4W: Girl on Metro Who Stank Like Seafood. I promise there is a very real explanation for my fruits-of-the-sea odor and it is unrelated to any personal hygiene deficiencies. CALL ME!
I tweeted THREE TIMES today! This is a big freaking deal considering that before today, it took me 14 months to create my first 10. Which comes out to……. head scratch……… calculator…….. seven-tenths of a tweet per month. I won’t even tell you how long I sat here thinking do I divide 10/14 or 14/10? My math skills are THAT BAD, no lie, it’s truly scary. I am in awe of my 16 year old self who passed such classes as “Functions, Statistics, and Trigonometry” and “Precalculus and Discrete Mathematics.” I didn’t pass by a lot, but nonetheless was proficient in the eyes of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. Unbelievable. Oh how the mighty have fallen.
My twee-spree was brought on by a special delivery I got at work today. It was a Fedex box weighing probably 4-6 pounds filled entirely with candy. Obviously I won’t get into details except to say that golly it pays to make friends in the food industry.
In true #JunkFoodFriday fashion (see that cool Twitter thing I did just there), I did a good job annihilating a great deal of this today. The extent of my diet between 8:00am and 6:30pm was thus comprised of 1) a triple venti mocha and 2) my Fedex box of candy.
Guys, oww. My head. Oddly I never get headaches… like, ever… tummy aches 24/7 since birth, but for some reason I’ve been 99% spared from the world’s most common bodily complaint. Cool? So I know I did something way wrong today! But holy crap I was bouncing off the walls and got like eighteen thousand things done at work.
Cool. The end! Why do I suck at conclusions? Whatevs. HAPPY WEEKEND! Smell ya later!
Loving:
Photo credit- thanks- I snarfed them down before I had the chance to photograph.
Oh. Mah. Gah. Oh. Mah. Gah. Try these things. For real. I don’t even know where to start. I was prepared for disappointment when I begrudgingly chose this semi-healthy, low-carb, “reasonable” snack. I was blown away. They are still, you know, glazed… but the ingredients are surprisingly clean and, as mentioned, they freaking taste like Skittles. Try them and come back here and tell me they don’t. Starbucks glazed cashews=magical unicorn chow.
Hating (Well not really hating, but just mourning my unmet expectations): OXO hand chopper (AKA imitation slap chop).
Some background. Occasionally I will meticulously deliberate dumb household purchases. There are a few explanations behind this, the primary one being that I may or may not just have a smidgen of OCD in my genetic makeup, I am also big on simplified living and clutter gives me meltdowns (see previous remark), and our 800 square feet doesn’t afford a ton of storage space so combatting clutter is critical. Does that little bit of alliteration make my story about The Mental Process That Led Me to Buy a Slap Chop more interesting? I sincerely hope so. SO anyway I think hard about what value a new item adds, and I really have to prove to myself that it brings something unique to the table that something else in the house isn’t already doing.
I wanted a slap chop because chopping multiple veggies and herbs on a cutting board is basically a 9 year committment, and my food processor makes me stabby because I can never figure out how to click all the pieces together, and afterwards I have 5 pieces to hand wash. Annoying. I thought this would really improve my life when it came to prepping multiple veggies. OK I’ll shut up now before you all hurl yourselves in front of traffic from the pain/boredom of this explanation.
I went through all this in my mind while we drove back from PA on Sunday, which is where I do most of my pondering of life’s great quandaries. Poor Jeff is confined in the car with me and has to suffer through 3 hours worth of random, disjointed, stream-of-conscious thoughts from me.
“Jeff?”
“Yea?”
“What would you think if I got a tattoo?”
“Umm, I don’t know.”
“Isn’t there a federal holiday next month?”
“President’s Day.”
“Mmm OK. I think I want a slap chop.”
“Okay. Is that the end of your question?”
“Yea. I’ve been giving it some thought and I think I want one.”
“………Okay.”
So as soon as we got home I dropped my stuff and was like BRB GOING TO GET A SLAP CHOP and battled my way through heinous Bed Bath and Beyond parking in hot pursuit.
The thing is an awful disappointment. It has a million pieces I can’t figure out just like the stupid food processor, the blades would pop out and almost lob my digits off when I tried to dismantle it, it doesn’t chop herbs and only succeeded in putting zig-zag blade patterns in the leaves, instead of chopping veggies they just disappeared into the bowels of the device, and various other first world problems which I’ll quit with right now. I’m holding onto this thing because unlike knives and bulky cutting boards and the food processor, HOME BOY GOES IN THE DISHWASHER! AWW YEA!
Forcing myself to end this train wreck of a post in 3…2…
Sorry, one of these days I’ll get back to writing actual words and sentences and verbal-type stuff. That day is not Monday.
Thing I love right now:
I love, love, love me some tomato soup. Lurve. This soup is my BFF because 1) it’s a party in my mouth and 2) once the temperature heads south of 45, I start to look for weekday lunch solutions that don’t involve me going outside. Also around that time of the year, my mind starts to be genuinely boggled at the idea that so many Americans electively live in places like Chicago and Minneapolis. Like, millions of you! Again, I’m not just making idle chit chat, I consider this to be a truly boggling life conundrum. I can only assume that the early nomadic settlers arrived to these locations in, like, July. But then they stuck around! Thank you sweet Lord that I was born in the mid-Atlantic and well after the advent of electricity, cause if that was me and November set in, I’d be like oh HELL no and huff it back down to Mexico and become an Aztec or something. Cray cray Northern folk!
Thing I hate right now (and always):
Why won’t this broad leave! I hate to be a hater but geez this campaign has got to end. I just read on Wikipedia that “Flo” is actually becoming known as, like, a hugely popular and iconic advertising character. Am I the only one who has been supremely irritated by these commercials for years?! They haven’t even worked because when I went to Google that picture I typed in “Flo Nationwide” on my first pass. Whoopsie.
That time again!
First though can I whine about the library? This pains me because I love the freaking library. I love it like a 4 year old loves it. I want to go sit with the 4 year olds at story time I love it so much. As far as I am concerned, libraries are the ONLY thing the government does right. You think I buy all this stuff!? Heck to the no, man! Whenever I get depressed about taxes, I think of what a joy the library is. Unforch there’s trouble in paradise.
Anyhoo. Moving along!
The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali: Illuminations Through Images, Commentary, and Design. Otay! Well let’s not linger here long because I’m not sure a reference book on the 8 Fold Path of Patanjali is really of popular interest. But, I know there are a few Yoga readers out there, so if this is up your alley I completely recommend! Wonderful analogies, anecdotes, really does a great job making relatable sense of something translated from Sanskrit, thousands of years old, and already pretty complicated to start with. 4 woms!
Powered by Happy: How to Get and Stay Happy at Work. Before you go thinking I’m all work-depressed again (I love you employers!) this author participated at an event of ours so we got a bunch of free copies and I read it. Nothing terribly earth shattering, but a quick and easy read and definitely good insight on, like it says, staying happy in tough environments! 3 woms…
Food as Medicine: How to Use Diet, Vitamins, Juice, and Herbs for a Healthier, Happier, and Longer Life. Yep another installment in my nutritional self-help phase. So, this book was OK, I mean nobody needs a book to tell them broccoli is good for you, but it actually goes through everything and explains why, and what you get out of it. But, I wanted to hit the author multiple times. For instance, once he goes off on all the health benefits of salmon (again, duh), but then says not to eat farmed salmon because they’re fed GMO-ed corn, given hormones, other things that will apparently kill you, etc. So I was like “Ahh got it, just buy the wild stuff. K.” But then he says the wild salmon are swimming in toxic, mercury-infested water which will also kill you. And if your’e a woman the mercury stays in your system for like 15 years and crosses placentas and will kill your baby too. Where do I get salmon then dude!? Do I have to breed these effers myself and feed them organic salmon food?! Time 2 I wanted to hit the author was then when he goes on and on about some smoothie that is awesome, and has turned around the health of all his clients, and will make you never get a disease ever. I’m waiting excitedly for the recipe and he’s all “The recipe is quite simple: bulgur puree, cream of wheat grass, distilled coconut water, organic fresh pressed ginger slivers, imported rosemary extract…” A dramatization but you get the idea. Completely unreasonable. Time 3 I wanted to hit him, the final straw, was when he explained a month-long detox that involved consuming nothing but juice and tepid tea. Am I the only one who thinks you would literally starve to death if you tried that?! Not even a note to consult a doctor! Unbelievable! This is gonna cost him in the wombat department… 
Faith. I really liked this book. Fiction inspired by- wait for this- the Catholic sex abuse scandal. (It’s better than you’d think). Definite page turner. The writing was not especially deep or multi-dimensional but again, I really did like it.
Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life. I loooved this book long time. I think I already posted a blurb from this. The author is a riot and so very wise. Again, not sure how interested people are in a book about writing but if that remotely sounds interesting to you, pick this shiste up. 
Marriage and Other Acts of Charity. I actually picked this up on a whim (it was sitting close to Bird by Bird) and ended up A-DOR-ING it. The author is a minister and the chaplain for the Maine Game Warden service. She also was a young wifey and mom who lost her husband in a car accident. I know 
I think she already has memoirs on that; this was more commentary on marriage, love, and family from both her own journey and people she met through her work. It was so warm and hilarious, loved it.
My Own Country: A Doctor’s Story. I picked this up because after Cutting for Stone (I worship that book) I needed to read every word this man wrote. Sorry if that sounds stalker-y and weird. Well this is his memoirs from treating some of the first AIDS cases in rural Tennessee in the early 80′s. Chea. Extremely well written (of course) but depressing as can be (of course again), though it did have warm and uplifting moments and a hopeful kind of theme. So I guess 3 woms for something really well done that I would never choose again…
The Lonely Polygamist. Exactly what it sounds like, and I freaking loved this book. Just beautiful fiction. One of those really long books you can just get totally immersed in. Loved. 4.5 woms even!
This is Where I Leave You. A family is stuck spending 7 days together after the father dies; personal growth ensues. Another quick, good read but not much depth. Very funny though, definitely had some public LOL-age.
Top 10 Reasons to Own an Herb Garden
23 Apr10. Distracts from dirty window screens
9. Major street cred in suburban wifey circles
8. Local-ganic or whatever
7. Can be strategically placed on top of spray paint marks on the deck when the landlords come over
6. Neighbors must assume you have your life together
5. Savings of up to $2.08 per grocery store trip
4. Lazy person friendly! Did you know they automatically regenerate themselves after being dead all winter?!
3. Builds responsibility and care-taking skills
2. You’re cool like Michelle Obama
1. If you wanted, you could say things like “Oh you like this pesto? BOW AT MY FEET CAUSE IT CAME FROM MY HERB GARDEN, INFERIOR ONE”
Tags: commentary, Domesticity, Food, gardening, lists, suburbia