Things I Love Thursdayish

Or Fridayish. Whatever.

• This is super gross and I apologize. While encased in a cast, my foot developed some serious dead skin. It is so disgustingly satisfying when parts of my gross chunks of skin fall and peel off. It's a little like a sunburn.
• Pie! Turns out I make good pie. The boys REALLY liked the last version. I made two tonight for the baby shower tomorrow, and I hope they both turned out.
• Chinese food. We got takeout from First Wok, and my Tai Chen chicken was delicious. The shrimp doughnuts today however were not delicious. Kinda gross.

Mortality.

I learned this week that our chemical stockroom manager at Cornell, Linda Halsey, passed away on Easter Sunday from (I think) breast cancer. She was 69 years old. Linda was awesome. She was a retired nurse, and had been the first female nurse to work in the Iowa Prison system.

Linda (NEVER 'Mrs. Halsey'......"Halsey is my husband. I'm LINDA.") was the kind of person you didn't want to get on the wrong side of. She took her job extremely seriously, and woe to the student who took chemicals without asking! But considering I was, and most of us were, on her good side, she was just a wonderful, hilariously sarcastic person.

My favorite Linda moment: During one of our upper-level chem classes, there was also Organic Lab going on. There was a girl who was taking it who was...an odd duck. She tended to faint a lot from the lab. One day during our break there was some hubbub in the hallway. "What happened, Linda?" we asked.

"Oh, Sniffy fainted again."

I'll miss you, Linda.

I am the Lord of the Pies (Right Close) [1]

I am throwing a friend of mine a baby shower this Saturday. Since it's pretty much mandatory that there is a dessert at baby shower, I asked her what kind of cake she wanted. Turns out she doesn't like cake. Does she like pie? Why yes! Any particular kind of pie? Pie with berries in it!

Ok. Pies. Berry pie. Um...turns out I have no idea where in this town to buy pie [2]. If we still had a Baker's Square, I would have gone with that. But I really have no idea how Perkins pies or Bob Evans pies are, and I really don't want to have store-bought pie. Especially berry pie. It just doesn't seem like it would be that tasty.

So how hard could it be to make a pie?

Well...

I have, very wisely I think, decided to make practice pies. I made my first practice pie on Sunday, left it at home yesterday, but remembered to bring it to work today. I had an issue with the crust: mostly, the recipe told me I should use a food processor. I don't have a food processor. Turns out I probably could have just done it with a fork, but that seemed complicated. So I forwent the crust. And put it in a square pan. Tjett refused to refer to it as a pie. I liked to call it a "pie".

The berry filling was pretty tasting. I used frozen berries, that happened to already be sweetened, and used about half of the remaining sugar the recipe called for. And tapioca, as a filler.

It had a streusel topping. It looked oh-so-pretty when I put it together, but sometime in baking it all fell into the "pie" and I was left with a streusel island.

The verdict: Not bad, but could use improvement.

Tonight is attempt #2. Same filling (except I used more sugar since apparently Schnucks brand frozen berries are unsweetened). Same topping...except that I'm going to let the pie bake for 20-odd minutes before putting it on. I'm considering broiling it for about 5 seconds at the end, just to try to get the topping crunchy and nice. I might totally f up the pie. But that's why it's a practice pie, yes? Also, there is a crust. While there were rave reviews for the crust, I decided to go with Jiffy pie crust mix. While there was some love put into it (and I couldn't find 'regular' pre-made pie crust), it's easier than the crust recipe.  And I have it on good authority that adding a little butter to it makes it super-awesome. And if this doesn't work out, I'll try a shortbread pre-made crust.

The boys in my lab should be happy.


[1] In high school marching band we did Appalachian Spring. One of our drum majors used to sing/instruct "I am the lord of the dance, right close." Oh Benny...
[2]If you ever happen to drive through western Wisconsin on....I-90, maybe?, make a stop in Osseo. It's a tiny tiny town almost exactly 2 hours east of my hometown; about an hour and a half east of the MN/WI border. The restaurant/bakery is called the Norske Nook. They have really good food, and the BEST pie. And the receipts say 'pop' on them. And all the waitresses (some of whom I recognize from stopping there every year with my family on vacation...they stick around!) wear these cute Norwegian dresses.

Okey Dokey Karaoke

...Or should I say, car mix!! I have...lots...of songs that I like to 'sing' in the car, especially on longer car trips. By myself. Because SOMEBODY gets all huffy when people sing good songs poorly. I most likely fall into that category. I was in band for a reason.

My criteria: 1) I have to know most of the words. Yes, I realize that the point of karaoke is that they give you the words, but it's better if you already know the majority of the words. 2) It must be beltable. 'Nice' songs, even though that I absolutely love and would happily sing in the shower and are the first songs I would ever learn on the guitar, are not my favorite car songs.

I just checked, and there are 35 songs on my car list. I won't give you every single one of them, but here are my favorites:

Billy Idol (Rebel Yell, White Wedding)
Counting Crows (Rain King)
Garbage (The World is Not Enough)
Kansas (Carry on Wayward Son, Dust in the Wind)
Poison (Talk Dirty to Me, Every Rose Has Its Thorn)
Ricky Martin (She Bangs, Livin La Vida Loca, La Bomba)
Guns 'N Roses (Knockin' on Heaven's Door, Paradise City, Live and Let Die)
Rush (Roll the Bones, Fly By Night, Tom Sawyer, Closer to the Heart)
Tenacious D (Tribute, Wonderboy)

Interview with a Samoyed

As I've mentioned before, dogs do not speak English. Tia is, however, an incredibly 'talkative' dog. She rarely barks, but she has so many different sounds for different occasions. While she makes a lot of her noise...unasked...these are some common responses, and what we've assumed they translate into.

Me: Is it suppertime? Should we go get some supper?? Let's go get some supper!!!

Tia: AROOOWOOOOOO!!!! AROOOO!!! (trans: YAY!!!! FOOD!!! FOOOOOOOD!!!!!)

Me: Can we go down the stairs? You want to go down the stairs?

Tia: rooooooooooooo!!! (trans: look at me I'm going down the stairs all by myself!)

Me: Who's my Tia? Who's my good puppy? Who's my good girl?

Tia: ngaaaaaaaaaaa! (trans: I am!)

Me: Sit! Tia, off!.....

Tia: whine whine whine (trans: I can't contain myself hurry up I'm being a good girl I want my treat!)

Me: (on the way to the park) Where are we going, Tia?

Tia: AROO!! AAA! AAA! AROOWOO!!!!! (trans: PAAAAAAAARK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Always look on the brighter side of Good Friday

Good Friday is arguably the holiest day in the Christian year. The Good Friday service is usually very solemn, and can be emotional. While coming out of the solemnity can feel a bit odd, and I feel bad for not being more contemplative in the time following the service...I just think this is fun. And delightfully sacrilegious (while avoiding being actually offensive, if you've ever seen the movie). So here it is, a clip from Life of Brian:

Things I Love Thursday

• My boot. I'm in a boot! Which means that I can take it off!! It's great. The only discomfort I have with it is that my heel gets rather excessively tired and sore throughout the day, but everything else about it is great. It even has one of those sweet Reebok Pump deals. Just like the shoe, I can't REALLY tell when it's inflated, but it is super-fun doing it.
• Marathon phone calls with my big brother. I am HORRIBLE at keeping in touch with people. It's not that I don't want to, and it's not even that I don't like talking on the phone. I don't honestly know why. My brother called me a couple of weeks ago, and like the terrible little sister I am, I put off calling him until a couple of days ago. So bad am I at calling him, he was convinced that I was pregnant and that's why I was calling. Must get better at that. Anyway, we had a FABULOUS conversation, and I even got to talk to his girlfriend for a few minutes. I love my big brother!
• Mango and sticky rice. Since my favorite lunch buddy is graduating, we have decided that we should go to Basil Thai a few more times before she does. On this week's trip, we realized that in the 5 years we've been coming here, not once have either of us ever tried a dessert. They had two: Tiramisu and mango with sticky rice. Feeling that Tiramisu would not exactly be the most 'authentic' Thai dessert, we opted for the mango/sticky rice. Oh. My. Goodness. I can't believe we've never gotten it before. I like mangoes ok, but I'm not really wild about them. But these were good...they were the exact ripeness that I think they should be; soft and sweet without being mushy or cloying. And the rice! Really, I would have been happy with just the rice. It was not overcooked or in a rice pudding as we expected at all. It was just...rice...with some kind of delicious, sweet 'binder' for lack of a better term. Not quite a sauce. So. Good. And the rice was hot. For some reason that surprised us both.
• Productivity! Since returning to work, I can't say that I've been the most productive I've ever been. I have to take lots of 'sit breaks,' and a lot of things that I need have mysteriously moved over the last month and a half. A lot of what I'm trying to do now is laser diagnostics, and yes, that is exactly (or less) as exciting as it sounds. Which gives me even less motivation, and makes sit breaks all the more appealing. This morning though, I decided that I wanted to get this one thing done. And I so totally did. It was probably the most productive day I've had since I've been back. 

How To Earn A Crappy Sweatshirt

5ish years ago, before we moved to Illinois, Tjett completed his first Old Chicago World Beer Tour. For those of you unfamiliar with Old Chicago and its Beer Tour, basically, the goal is to drink 110 different beers. Along the way, you get chintzy little prizes: a deck of cards, a mini-compass, then later you get a T-shirt, a thermos, and a cooler.

The final, 110 beer prize, is your name on a little plaque on the 'Wall of Foam.' Also, you get a sweatshirt.

Tjett's sweatshirt was just amazing. Heavy, thick, plushy, soft...it was everything I ever wanted in a sweatshirt, but as I had stolen all of his other sweatshirts and fuzzy pants, he would not let me steal this one too. This one, I had to EARN.

Tonight I finished my first tour. Tjett finished his second. Oh, how I was looking forward to MY amazing sweatshirt. When our server brought it, it felt...thin. It was in a plastic bag so I didn't get to really examine it, but it just didn't feel as awesome as Tjett's old one.

I got home and tried it on. I am not a very big person. I had gotten a Medium, figuring that would give me ample room without swimming in it. Unfortunately, it was too short in the torso and too short in the sleeves. Mostly, it was like a slightly thicker long-sleeved T-shirt. I am SUPER disappointed. I'm going to call them tomorrow to see if I can't at least exchange for a Large. *sigh* I wish we had just finished our tours while we were in Iowa...

On a happier note, somebody stopped a Nickelback song that was playing while I was enjoying my 110th beer. Also, they do raffle drawings on Wednesdays and Tjett and I EACH won a free large pizza.

The Art of Writing Suckily.

One of the first dates my husband and I went on was the US Formula One Grand Prix in Indianapolis. This was...2004? Jeebus. He is a mega F1 fan. I have learned to appreciate racing[1] to a degree. Mostly for me it's about the individual drivers and who I decide I like, who I don't like, who I want to see win...that kind of a thing.

My mom has learned some of their names, and can also 'appreciate' it. She found this book and lent it to me. It's called The Art of Racing in the Rain. She assumed I would like it because it a) is told from the standpoint of a dog, and b) it has lots of F1 racing references.

I've never written a book review, so I'm not sure where to start. Especially considering I read this several months ago. Especially since (if you couldn't guess)...I hated it.

I don't know what the author thought he was doing. The whole premise is that the main human character is a substitute race-car driver who is especially good at racing in the rain, much like his idol, Michael Schumacher. Schumi is, for those of you unversed in F1, arguably one of the greatest drivers of all time. He's won 7 world championships, which is a lot. Enzo (as in Enzo Ferrari) is the dog. He tells the story.

Basically, Enzo and the dude start out really happy. Then he gets married, she and Enzo aren't BFF, they have a kid and Enzo swears to protect her, then all sorts of bad stuff happens. Racing, especially racing in the rain is supposed to be metaphorical...but he loses. It's like he threw that bit in there as some sort of plot device, but it could have just as easily been called The Art of Baking a Cake with a Crappy Oven or The Art of Riding a Bike on Gravel. I don't know if he was trying to make people interested in the sport, or what. But I found the references (and explanations to the references) unnecessary.

There was also some metaphorical bit about a crazy zebra. And how there's a murderous zebra in all of us. Or something.

I get that the story is told from a dog, and Enzo explains to us that he is a very special dog, and hopes to be reincarnated as a person. But really? REALLY? I love my dog. She is awesome. But she is a dog. She needs love and attention, food and water, shelter and a comfy bed. Or elbow, like right now. Other than a few choice words, she does not understand English. Obviously, she would make a terrible narrator.

So if you get rid of the doggy narrator, can the cheesy racing references, you're left with a very crappy story. Personal preference, I suppose. But this is one of those stories where EVERYTHING bad happens, but then resolves itself before the book ends. There really wasn't so much a plot to the book as there was a premise. Perhaps I've been spoiled by thrilling books with twists and turns, but it is all so predictable.

Oh, and then the dog dies at the end. I'm not giving anything away...the whole story is a flashback and if you read I think the very first page that ending will be obvious. My beef about that? It was specifically designed to tug at my heartstrings and make me cry. There is little I hate more[2] than being manipulated by a crappy book/movie into crying. Crying at a good book can be almost a pleasurable experience; cathartic, really. In this case, however, I was simply reminded of my own dog's mortality, and as she is 3 years old and my first dog ever I am not quite ready to think about her getting old. And thus the waterworks.

Now after seeing how much I hated this book but seeing how many other people seem to think it's magnificent, Tjett has decided to write his own sappy dog-based novel.

Anyway, that's all I've got. If you like predictable, manipulative books with details that are supposed to make the book somehow interesting, I bet you'd love it. Otherwise, stay away. You want a good dog-based book? Try James Herriot, or decide on a different species and re-read The Black Stallion or Black Beauty. You want a racing book? Steve Matchett. A predictable and sappy book about love and circumstances? I'm positive there are better ones[3].

[1]I'll watch the races. I'll nap in the middle. I'll not feel bad about doing either.
[2] Such as Nickelback.
[3] Or maybe it turns out I just hate the genre. Yep, that could be it too. OH except I didn't hate Bridges of Madison County. That's a good one.

ETA: You want a good dog-story that makes tears run down your face? Allie over at Hyperbole and a Half just (finally!) posted another winner. Go here.

Top Ten Things I'll Miss In Ur-Paign[1}

...assuming I ever, ever get to leave. I make no bones about not loving grad school, and Tjett's employment opportunities, frankly, suck. But I have realized in my 5 years that there are indeed things I like about this town...other than, of course, my friends.

1. My surgeon. In case anyone in town is facing foot surgery and is wondering, 'How good IS Dr. Sean Grambart at Carle in Champaign?' well, wonder no more. He is awesome. He is kind, professional, easy to talk to[2], reassuring, and as far as I know (as I'm not yet healed) extremely competent. It seems like 'everyone' I talk to (because there are so many people in town I've talked to who have had foot surgery) has the same great opinion of him. And unless the nurses/medical assistants are amazing liars, they all seem to like him too. My guess is that I'll most likely need to get my other foot 'done,' and most likely I'll be gone by then. I only hope that wherever we end up, there is an equally wonderful surgeon.
2. My church. When I first started going to St Matthew Lutheran Church in Urbana, I honestly wasn't wild about the service. But I came back because the pastors and the people and the social ministry that St Matts does is just phenomenal. I am so fortunate to have found this place. I was blessed to have great pastors growing up, and I can't believe how blessed I am again to have such wonderful people in my life. 
3. Beer Fest. Or more accurately, the International Beer and Chili Tasting Festival. Tjett and I go for the beer. Held in late September/early October, it is a little pricey but well worth it. And it's within a nice night's drunken walking distance, so no problems there. Also it's special to us because that's where Tjett proposed (more or less; he waited until we got home).
4. Central Illinois Metal Fest. As ridiculous as those weekends always turn out, it's fun, and it's nice to have an excuse for my brother to come visit and eat sushi with me.
5. The dog park. I realize that wherever we end up may have a fenced-in off-leash dog park, but there's no guarantee. Tia REALLY benefits from ~weekly romps around several acres and socializing with other dogs.
6. NISA. Northern Illinois Samoyed Assistance, which is where we got Tia, is located in Arlington Heights (outside of Chicago). There seem to be several Samoyed rescue groups in the nation, but not too many that ever actually have dogs. I guess that's good. But we really like Sams, and I am not at place in my life that I would want to get a puppy...both from an 'oh my goodness puppies are HARD' as well as a social 'I'd rather adopt a homeless dog' standpoint. 
7. The co-ops and farmers market. We have a pretty good (if expensive) co-op in town, and a fabulous farmers market in the summer. Visiting the market with Tjett and Tia is one of my favorite things to do. We also have a cool art co-op that Tjett and I recently discovered. 
8. Friar Tuck. Tuck's is a FABULOUS specialty beer/wine/liquor store. Every time I go in I feel like a kid in a candy store. They have an entire WALL of really good beer, as well as a cooler where they have things like LaBatt in cans (for camping or the racetrack!). Few things make me sadder than seeing people leave that store with 24-packs of Bud Light. 
9. Ballet and Habitat. I'm clumping these together because they're both things that I like to do, wish I could do more of, and mostly likely won't get to this summer because of el surgery-o. We have an amazing adult ballet instructor, who also happens to be the Dean of the business college or something. The Habitat folks are also super awesome, and very very active, with annual build(s) and a 'ReStore' where you can donate and buy used furniture. 
10. Restaurants: Black Dog, Crane Alley, Basil Thai and Miko. I also figured I would lump all the restaurants together, as I could probably have made a top-ten list of only restaurants and bars. One of Tjett's absolute favorite places in town is Black Dog. Black Dog is this magnificent BBQ place that is far too small but has excellent food, reasonable prices, and a stellar, rotating draft beer list. Crane Alley is the grad student bar/restaurant of choice...the food is surprisingly good, and they have a massive beer list. However, the service is pretty terrible. I still like it. Basil Thai is a very-close-to-work Thai restaurant. I go there a little too often with my friend Maria. It's not even close to being the very best Thai restaurant in the world, or even in town, but when you want something spicy and good for lunch it's a great place to go. And finally, Miko is where my brother and I go to get sushi when he visits. It's delicious.

[1] Adam discovered that in the 70s the way the 'cool kids' referred to Urbana-Champaign. I like it better than Chambana, so I use it too.

[2] Not to mention easy on the eyes...

Surgery Post IV: Things I was blatantly LIED TO about

It's been awhile since I've posted anything about my surgery. This was what I really, really wanted to write, but have been putting off. Granted, a month and a half after the fact I'm a little less super-raged about this, but I felt it should still be shared before I forget.

• "You can wear plastic jewelry in your piercings." When I scheduled my surgery, a month or two before it even happened, one of the nurses was going over my instructions for the day-of. "Wear comfortable clothing, no make-up, no jewelry--" "What about piercings?" I asked. "No piercings...but if you want to keep some holes open you can wear plastic jewelry." "What about quartz?" "What's that?" "Glass..." "No, it has to be plastic." "Ok." So you see, I did not just imagine being told that I could wear plastic jewelry in my piercings. So then I proceeded to order some plastic jewelry on interwebs, but then I waited too long and was afraid it wouldn't come in time, so then I bought some more from Hot Topic and the body jewelry cart in the mall. Overall, not a huge financial setback, but one I'd rather not have made in vain. When I went into surgery, the nurse there went over the same questions. "No makeup?" "No." "No jewelry?" "Only plastic." "...That still needs to come out..." And we chatted. She leafed through their rule book, and even called the nurse at the front. Who, apparently, was so irritated that I had been lied to that she wanted to know the girl's name who told me this. I didn't know it. But anyway, they gave me a denture cup to put my ugly, plastic, non-returnable jewelry into. It took me about a week to get everything[1] back in, but thankfully, I was at least able to.

• "The worst part of the nerve block will be that it feel really weird when we make your foot move and you aren't doing it." BULL. SHIT. Maybe if it hadn't been the first time the anesthesiologist had done this particular type of nerve block, that would have been true. But it HURT. It took a REALLY long time (15-20 minutes?) of this douche-nozzle[2] poking and digging around in my thigh until he was about to give up, and miraculously as he was pulling the electrode out he FINALLY hit my nerve. Which leads me to my next, and very related point:

• "We're giving you something so that you won't remember this." GO FUCK YOURSELVES. I feel like that if I remember being said this to, and I remember my jag-off anesthesiologist telling the nurse to give me more of whatever this magic Roofie was supposed to be, they did their job wrong. Especially considering that, oh, I do remember just how bad it was. My friend Emily who is a nurse tells me that they tried to 'Twilight' me. Apparently, it didn't take. Also, not anything I suppose I was lied to about, but the insertion site of this thing was ridiculously painful, which made getting remotely comfortable later on almost impossible. I'm seriously considering not getting another one if I have to get my other foot done.

• "It's just a little mosquito bite, and it doesn't hurt at all." Earlier, I mentioned that I was not told that, oh BTW, you're going to have to give yourself a shot every day for the next 10 days. I understand the importance of these shots. My family has a history of blood clots[3] and I'm on birth control[4] so apparently I'm at high risk. I'm a pretty 'big-girl' about shots. I don't usually mind them too much. But I can't say I was looking forward to this at all. I was comforted, however, by the fact that both my nursing student, her nursing teacher, and my friend Emily had told me that this shot was no big deal. A teeny, tiny little needle. A mosquito bite. Deep breath. Ok. Let's do this. The stick itself wasn't too bad. But the injection was HORRIBLE. It hurt SO BAD. The worst part though? No one believed me! A combination of being tired, hungry, in pain, knowing I'd have to put myself in pain, and not having anyone believe that I was in pain, and I burst into tears. After telling me for the twelfth time, 'that's a little baby shot! It doesn't hurt!' my wonderful nurse, Jayme, finally thought maybe I was telling the truth. She looked at the injection site...and I had a big rash emanating from it. Whoops! But then, the 5 other nurses that Jayme had brought in to figure out why I was in so much pain decided that clearly I was allergic to the alcohol swab. Yeah, no. Definitely, I'm allergic to Lovenox, which apparently almost no one is. Due to the fact that no, I couldn't have just taken an aspirin and a shot of vodka every day instead, and the other formulation is not yet generic, not covered by insurance, and therefore cost about a month's salary, I ended up taking the damn Lovenox, but with an ice pack and Benedryl beforehand.

[1] It's not like I have a hundred. But I do have a few I was worried about closing up...

[2] He actually seemed like a pretty nice guy, before I hated him more than Nickelback. Especially considering that he came to check up on me afterward and went almost PROUDLY into detail about how hard it was to find my nerve and how he had to dig around in there for so long...

[3] Thanks, Grandma! I also appreciate the tiny boobs and lazy eye. (No really, I love her very very much!)

[4] Woooo!

Duck Duck Grey Duck

Why 'grey duck,' you may ask? What is so...WRONG...with Minnesotans that we can't possibly use 'goose' like every other state in the nation?

It's simple. Minnesotans teach their children to be imaginative and creative. A typical game of 'Duck Duck Goose' involves a child tapping other children on the head repeating 'duck, duck, duck, duck...goose!' Now, consider a Minnesotan version of the game. 'Purple duck, orange duck, ggggggggggrrrrrrrreen duck, polka-dot duck, silly duck...Grey duck!' Way, way more fun.

QED.

Things I Love Thursday

• Cornell, including: friends, faculty, steel drums, and band. Ok, I know I've already done an "I love Cornell" post. But oh, how I miss the steel drums...
• Walking. Actually, walking kinda blows right now. I'm still in a 'walking cast' and will be until Monday, when I get a walking boot. I'm REALLY looking forward to the boot. Walking in the cast isn't terribly comfortable, and it's tiring and bit painful. But today was my first day more or less NOT on crutches...which is a HUGE step for me. I'm very proud (and very, very tired and sore).
• Beating the snot out of my husband in the March Madness bracket. I'm really not a competitive person...most of the time. And to tell you the honest truth, I flipped a coin while picking my bracket...which I only did in the hopes that I would get a free appetizer from Old Chicago. Well...thank you, Mr. Lincoln. Not only did I pick VCU (but only for 2 rounds), I picked UConn to win. Which put me in...wait for it...3rd place at Old Chicago!!! I got a free pizza out of it. Tjett, on the other hand, came in 29th and got a free appetizer. Really, I just think the whole thing's funny.
• Clearly, the ellipsis. I just realized I used it 7 times already.
• Corn Chex. They're not filling enough for breakfast, but I've been SO in the mood for them for a snack lately. Oh-so-delicious.
• My giant death laser. Yep, I blew up a filter today. And I tried to launch my flyer plate...(there it is again!) but basically just blew up a bunch of glass. I'm thinking 2.5 Joules MIGHT be a bit overkill.

The Dip

My mother came home from a house party of one of the 'church ladies' some years ago. My mom generally likes to talk up the places she's been, but she was extra extra excited about this dip that had been served. Apparently everyone there loved the dip so much that the hostess had printed off a bunch of recipe cards for those in attendance.

I will admit, I tend to be skeptical about the things my mom goes on and on about. But she made this dip, and oh man...it was as amazing as she had said. I make it for every occasion that I can think of. The only problem with it is that it really is best served hot, and not every party allows for hot food to be served hot.

Hot Chicken Dip
1 8-oz block of plain cream cheese (can be low or non-fat, if you really want)
1 can of cream of mushroom soup (can also be 'healthier')
1 can of mushrooms (stems and pieces, or fancy sliced)
1 (small) can of chunk chicken breast
1 packet (8 oz maybe?) of slivered almonds
Garlic powder, pepper, salt

On the stove, on low heat, soften the cream cheese until it's stirrable. Don't burn it though. Mix in the can of soup. Add the drained mushrooms. Drain the chicken, and rinse it until it runs mostly clear, and drain really well. Shred the chicken bits with a fork, and add the the dip. Or just pull it apart while it's in the dip. Add slivered almonds and stir. Add garlic powder and salt and pepper to taste. Serve with crackers (Wheat Thins are my favorite with this) or little bread slices.

I actually don't add any salt at all to it, since I use the regular-sodium soup, and use salty crackers, but whatever floats your boat.

Katie's Adult Playground

So the name needs work. But I maintain that this is the best idea I have ever had. Seriously. If someone takes it (a-HEM) I will be very very sad (and try unsuccessfully to sue the pants off of that someone. It's (not) patented).

Here's the idea...a playground, sized and adjusted to adults. Maybe combined with a bar, I'm not sure. There could be some serious liability problems there. But think about it...when was the last time you were on a swing? If it was recently, wasn't it uncomfortable? How awesome would it be to have swings that are higher off the ground and a little wider for 'mature' hips? Yeah. I thought so.

Imagine a slide that is long enough to be fun, wide enough to fit, and made of Teflon or something so that no one stuck to it. Also, it would not be made out of scorching hot metal, nor static-causing plastic. 

Monkey bars that are actually far enough up off the ground, and have squishy grippies so the bars don't hurt. It could be an entire freakin' workout. 

Also, plenty of four-square courts.

Food, Wine, and Monkeys. And Roller Coasters.

Today's BEDA theme is regarding one's dream vacation.

Ok. In my absolute wildest dreams, I want to stay here. I stumbled upon this resort while Tjett and I looked for honeymoon locales, or at least I think it was this place. Regardless, it was somewhere in Greece. Now here's the thing...while I'm sure I would love it, I think about it exactly like it is in the picture...perfect weather, and no one around. Adding ridiculous heat or rain and screaming children is definitely not in that fantasy.

Here's the thing...I really like the idea of a Caribbean/beachy/tropical vacation...except that I for real hate sand. Also, I can't swim. And I burn in about 2 seconds. So even though resorty places SOUND nice to me...I probably don't really want to go there.

So when I think about where I'd REALLY like to go, it's actually pretty simple. Yes, I'd like to go back to Italy. Yes, I'd love to visit Germany. But at the risk of sounding stupidly romantic, I just want to go somewhere with Tjett, where there's a nice hotel room (with a jacuzzi, even...and a balcony?), really good restaurants within walking distance, maybe a zoo, and maybe an amusement park. Like if we could combine Cedar Point with the Brookfield Zoo primate house. And some museums. And a spa?

Yeah Boyeeeee!

I don't so much have the energy to write a long ranting blog post today. When I do, I promise it'll be good. So for now, all I'll say is...Tjett and I ate at Flav's Fried Chicken on the way home from Iowa today. The chicken is actually pretty darn good...hot, tender, juicy, greasy (as fried chicken should be). The sides are another story. They were out of corn bread, greens, the hot, mild, and BBQ wing sauces, ribs, and most fountain drinks (that they substituted with 2-liters). Apparently the delivery guy came, but no one was there to pay him. Anyway, the mac & cheese was more like mushy noodles in "cheese"...really no worse than what you would expect at any fast-foodery, but we couldn't finish a small between us. The corn on the cob was likewise mushy. Also when we got there we were pretty sure they were closed...no lights, no cars in the parking lot. Turns out we had just gotten there a little before lunch rush. We took our pictures with one of the several air-brushed Flavor Flav likenesses on the wall. They're on Tjett's phone.

Blog Sometimes In April

Yeah...I've missed a few days. In my defense, I was very very very busy getting ready for my talk at my alma mater, Cornell College. Which I gave yesterday.

I'm not totally sure what to blog about. I don't have enough pictures for a photo essay (though I suppose I could post my entire talk and take out any text that is in there). I suppose that since I'm in Iowa, let's talk about that.

I love it here. I don't think I realized until this trip just how much I love Cornell...and how much I miss it. I had the fortune of talking to pretty much all of my favorite professors yesterday. Charley Liberko, my organic professor and all-around good man, was asking me about grad school. I don't remember exactly what I said, but he said, "well, you're smiling!" To which I replied, "that's because I'm here!" And then I just about started crying, because what I didn't say was, "Because I'm here...where I was successful, my professors were fabulous, I played lots of music with amazing people, I made some of the best friends I've ever had...and I've never felt more at home than I do when I'm here."

You know, I really hope that wherever Tjett and I end up settling will be 'home.' I really, really do. But in complete seriousness, I wish there was work for me here. If there was, I'm pretty sure...no, I'm totally sure...we would move back here in a heartbeat.

*sigh*

In awesome news, Tjett and I suggested that we have another pan reunion. Dr. Hearne, who is the band/orchestra/pans director and one of the reasons I love this place so much, was super excited and it very seriously considering having a 15-year Pandemonium anniversary at homecoming in '12. I'm a little worried that I will have just started a job somewhere and not be able to go...but I can't wait. We were invited to play with them tonight, but they do have a full band and it would be weird. But we got to mess around after the kids' rehearsal this afternoon, so I'm very happy :)

Also I got to see Becky and Sarah, and later on I'm hoping I'll get to see some other kids :)

I picked UConn to win. I am awesome.

Today's BEDA theme is 'best advice you've ever received." It took me awhile to think of anything...until I thought of advice pertaining to el puppy-o. Tia is mouthy and noisy. She tries to 'cute' us into doing stuff (mostly works on me), and usually the things she wants are:

1. Food
2. Outside
3. Food
4. Play
5. Food
6. My spot on the couch

And then there are times when she doesn't seem to want anything (other than food, and somebody's chubby enough already), and she just wants to be noisy. For a long time, Tjett and I had absolutely no idea what to do with her in these moments.

And then we took doggy class. I found doggy class to be very good for us, but it wasn't a 'miracle' cure or anything...I think it just got her used to doing things for us. Our instructor, Lisa, liked to think that Tia was basically the same as her Siber-Con, June. I'm sure they were similar, but they are certainly not the same dog. Lisa gave us a few tips for dealing with ridiculousness, including having her wear the head collar most of the time (did NOT work), and tethering her in the rooms (didn't really have any space or desire to tether her while we're in the same room).

But then she suggested Time-Outs. Time-Outs for Tia are not punishment; they're more a way to calm her down. Tia happens to LOVE her kennel...I'm totally serious. How we lucked out and got a dog who adores her kennel is beyond me, but she loves it in there. Sometimes she'll just go hang out in there, even if we're home. It's her room. And every time we leave, she gets a yummy Kong. It's to the point that she cannot wait for us to leave...she runs into her kennel, sits, and waits not-too-patiently for her Kong.

So anyway, if she's getting nuts for no apparent reason, we point and tell her 'kennel!' (or sometimes, even if we discuss 'does someone need a Time-Out?') and she runs in her kennel, we close the door, and we sit for awhile. Usually after about 15 minutes she is calm, and we let her out. More often than not, she's good for the night. When we started, she needed 3 or so a night...then it went to 3 or so a week...and now, we haven't needed to give one more than a few times in the last several months.

Hooray for Time-Outs!

I love you, Sam Rose.

A couple years ago, I had some trouble with my car. By 'trouble', I mean it wouldn't start. The AAA guy came out (if anyone has gotten their money's worth from AAA, it's me), re-charged my battery, and told me that I needed to get a new one ASAP because this one was on its last legs.

Which was super awesome news, because I was driving to Minnesota the next day. Which, from central Illinois, can be anywhere from an 8-hour trip with no traffic to a 12-hour trip when there is construction and traffic...and lunch in Madison with Becky :). So I made the decision that I would try to drive to MN, and get a battery there.

The car survived the trip up. My mom at the time lived in one of the worst cities ever, Wayzata. Wayzata is a fairly wealthy town, with a lake, yachts, mansions, and a very cute downtown with very cute little shops and very cute little restaurants. I say it's one of the worst cities because, as my brother so eloquently put it..."They're all a bunch of rich fucks."* My mom happened to work there, and so got an apartment in town. An apartment that she paid far too much for, that had constant problems, like the ceiling caving in from busted pipes that went unfixed for months on end. Ok, I'm not a fan. But I digress.

I took my car to the local auto-body shop, where they over-charged me for the battery, and then because they had to take out my washer fluid thingy, they charged me an arm and a leg for the labor. But I got my battery, and I was good to go.

So I thought.

Fast forward maybe 6 months. I went to my car...and the battery's dead. Crap. I called AAA, and they sent a guy over. He was very, very nice, and rather dreamy. By dreamy, I mean he had long hair and a Metallica t-shirt. He re-charged my battery (oh baby) and left. After letting my car run for 30 minutes or so, I turned it off and went back inside. About 10 minutes later I decided to go run some errands, so I went back to my car...and it didn't turn on. Super crap. I called AAA again. They sent the same guy over, who waved and grinned at me from his tow truck. He got out, and said, "you just wanted to see me again!" to which I smiled and shook my head. He tried re-charging my battery again, but it just wouldn't hold a charge. He thought it was the alternator**and towed my car to a nearby Meineke (which he recommended). As we were riding to the Meineke, we were chatting, and then he remembered something.

"Oh shoot, I was supposed to identify myself when I came over. 'Howdy, my name is Sam Rose and I'm from Tatman's Towing' and I'm here to tow your car."

"I kind of figured from the 'Tatman's Towing' truck."

So...I realize that that wasn't the most 'romantic' conversation I've ever had with a total stranger (that honor may have gone to the ex-con on the bus who felt up my calves), but I've been smitten with him since that day. Every time I need my car jumped I REALLY hope it's him. It hasn't been. And yes, Tjett is very well aware of my infatuation with Sam Rose, the tow truck guy.

Oh, and the problem with my car was that the fancy-schmancy mechanic in Wayzata who replaced my battery simply finger-tightened the leads, and they had come loose. Wanna know how much I was charged for the guys at Meineke to take out my washer-fluid thingy, figure out what was wrong with my battery and fix it?

Nada.


*Yes, I realize that not all people from Wayzata are jerks, and not all rich people are jerks. In fact, I rather hope to be one of them someday. But you must admit, there is a difference between a family having money and living in a nice home...and pretentious, blatant, overt displays of "wealth and status."

**I'm convinced that all men who are not mechanics really have no idea what is ever wrong with cars, and they use "it's the alternator" on every occasion just to sound manly.

My day in haiku: Food, doors, theft, doggy play-date; Research, basketball.

Delicious breakfast.
I had pancakes; Tjett, French Toast.
Eating there again.

"Hold the door for her!"
He said as he walked right past.
Chivalry is dead.

"Free sample:" Lady,
When nobody's at the booth,
You can't drink it all.

Tia, Little Bear.
Let's chew on each other's ears.
Now she is sleepy.

Help! My Cornell talk
Lacks Rhodamine spectra.
Procrastination!

Free appetizer!
The sole reason I STILL care?
I CALLED VCU!!! :(

BEDA Day 1: Well hello!

Hello! Today marks the first day of Blog-Every-Day-In-April. Since I am lousy at introductions, I figured I would give you little "Katie tidbits" in the form of one of those fancy poems, that I cannot for the life of me think what it's called. You'll understand:

BEDA: Introduced to me by Becky, one of the most creative people I have ever known!

Lasers: My livelihood. These are what I use in my research, which will someday give me a PhD?

Olives: I prefer green. The best I've ever had were in Italy, with some sort of awesome marinade. 

Green: My favorite color. (Which is not why I like green olives better than black; they just taste better.)

Evan's canal osteotomy: One of the procedures I recently had on my foot. Hence the surgery posts.

Voracious appetite: Man I love food!

Elizabeth: My middle name.

Rick-rolling: I still think it's funny.

Your mom: I still think it's an appropriate response to insults.

Dog: Her name is Tia. She is very grumpy that I can't walk or play with her for awhile. 

A blue rubber used-to-be-squeaky bone: Tia's "baby," and her very very favorite toy.

Yep, I dye my hair: Right now it's dark brown. I like it.

Industrial: I've had it for a year. I love it. I'm enjoying it while I can, before I have to look professional.

Nachos: A perfectly acceptable meal.

Alice in Chains: My favorite band, ever. I have mentioned them an embarrassing number of times.

Perrier: Overpriced, but I'm a fan. I just happen to like fizzy water... 

Running: I did for about 9 months before I broke. My goal is to start again in about 5 or 6 months.

Iced Tea (as opposed to Ice-T): Unsweetened. Definitely. Unless it's Jeremiah Weed Sweet Tea Vodka. Mmm, mmm.

Lut'ran: Oh sure, you bet. Hotdish and red Jello.