This and That

Well, it's only Monday and my brain is pretty much fried.  Mother F.  (Oh, man, I just realized that if I ever had a kid I could get people to call me Mother F!  Yesssssssssssss!)

This cat cracks me up.

But here's what's happening.

1. Right now I smell something bad and I don't know if it is the dog or my feet.  Maybe both?  Wait, I just pulled my foot up to my nose.  It was the dog.  Sadly, that's kind of a relief.
2. I don't care that Taco Bell's beef is not 100% ground organic true beef from some sort of magical talking cow.  Was anyone out there under the impression that their tacos and crunchwraps were all-natural or good for you?  I know that I go to Taco Bell when I want cheese that's squeezed from the same thing that caulk is squeezed from, and when I want bad service from people who are too dumb and too rude to get a job anywhere else.  When I want fancy, I'll go to an actual Mexican restaurant, or to Wendy's.
3. Oh, hey!  I just had a really good idea.  Taco Bell should serve margaritas.  No?  Not a good idea?  Shoot.
4. Matt finally got the HDMI cable to work on our tv and seeing news people's faces that up close and personal is kind of freaking me out.  I think I'll just squint my eyes from now on when we watch Hardball.*
5. I made the most delicious treat this weekend, a treat that I've been plotting for months (no, seriously) and that I can't wait to share with you.  It'll have to happen in stages, because it contains that much awesomepants awesomeness.  Put on your elastic pants and get ready, friends, because this one is just that good.

Okay, well, I'm going to go watch Jeopardy! with Matt.  (Read: yell out the answers .10 seconds after he yells them out just to annoy him.  Ha!)

*Oh, and no, I'm not drunk, but I kind of wish I was.

Super Lemon Ice Cream

Grading essays makes me feel like this.

Which reminds me of this. 

Which makes me laugh and wish that they would move back to the SAV.

But, alas, I have to get papers finished and I can't make my friends stick around forever.  Boo.

What I can do is make ice cream all weekend. (Especially since I had a pretty large supply of cream and milk and produce that wasn't going to be good for too much longer.)  So I took a quick inventory of the refrigerator, and turned to Mr. Lebovitz, the god of ice creaming.

First up, Super Lemon Ice Cream.

Now, I really love lemon, which is good because you really have to love lemon to love this ice cream--especially if you are extra dumb like I am and instead of just zesting the peel of the lemon, you instead puree the entire lemon.*  Yep, then your ice cream is going to be extra lemony. 

The funny thing is that I still liked it a lot, but that's because I like things to be uber-lemony.  I think, though, that I'm going to have to swirl it with something a little sweeter if I plan to serve this people who weren't addicted to War Heads and Cry Babies as kids.** Shoot.

Also, this whole story just proves again how much I need Cassie to move back to Savannah.  She would've known that I shouldn't puree the whole lemon (just like she knew that to knead bread one need not purr and pretend to be a cat). 

Anyway, if you're salivating just thinking about all of that lemony goodness, give this one a shot.  Follow the directions for real and let me know how that one is.  I figure that if it's good even with my huge error, then it'll be great when done correctly.

Super Lemon Ice Cream (From David Lebovitz's The Perfect Scoop)

Makes about 1 Quart (1 Liter)

2 lemons, unsprayed
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (3 lemons)
2 cups half-and-half
Tiny pinch of salt

Zest the lemons directly into a food processor or blender. Add the sugar and blend until very fine. Add the lemon juice and blend until sugar is completely dissolved. Blend in the half-and-half and salt until smooth.

Chill for 1 hour, then freeze the mixture in your ice cream maker.

*Definitely didn't realize that until I stumbled upon this blog, authored by someone who is much more educated in the language of recipes than I am. 

**I told you already on here about how on my 16th birthday I ate an entire pound of Sour Patch Kids, right?  And how my tongue was bleeding, but I continued to eat them?  Yeah, I'm super smart.  Sometimes I can't even believe that I'm allowed to teach children.

Weekend Fun!

Last year I was a jealous mess when my friends and family up north were getting pounded with snow.  Then it snowed here, which satisfied me. 

This year, in what I believe is a testament to how I've worked to have a good attitude about stuff, I haven't really been jealous of other people's snow at all. 

And when I looked at our forecast for the weekend and saw that we were in for a weekend of mid-70's and sunshine, I had not an ounce of envy for those who are covered with the white stuff.

Top that with the promise of a chili dog feast with good friends, and I knew we were in for good times.

So our weekend consisted of:

Snugglin' dogs.

An IKEA rat infestation.

More dog snugglin'.

Grapefruit juice squeezin'.

Outside lunch eatin'.

Lots of ice creamin'.

Not pictured:

• Room rearrangin'.
• Phone talkin'.
• Nappin'.

And now (and seemingly until the end of time), paper gradin'. 

When I find my way out from under this stack of ninth graders' persuasive essays (my Everest!), I'll share some more fun stuff from the weekend.

Hope your weekend was just lovely!

Backsliding

Sometimes it's really hard for me to resist free stuff, even if I have absolutely no use for it or if it's complete junk.  It's a flaw of mine, and I'm working on it.

Also, I'm not really allowed to go on the free section of Craigslist because I always end up clicking on cute dogs who need homes and we've decided about 400 different times that it would be a bad idea to get another dog (Mitch is an only pet).  Then I get all depressed and sad and sometimes I start crying. 

But the other day I randomly clicked on the free Craigslist thing, and ended up getting a super cool dresser for free.  (It's going to be so awesome I can't even stand it.)

So now I'm all thinking I'm going to hit free Craigslist gold with every visit, which is silly and foolish.

I was tempted to go check this out, even if just for entertainment.  I mean, an Irishman dumping clothes in an alley in a waterproof bag?  What's not fun about that? 

I ended up thinking better of it because I don't really need clothes right now, and knowing me I would grab the wrong bag and the bag I grabbed would be full of snakes and spiders and jumpy frogs and then it would be the worst day ever.

I should've quit Craigslist's free page with that ad.

But then--then! 

Who can turn down a free piece of ass?

Ha!  Jokes.  And free donkeys!

Will you please ask Matt if I can get a pet donkey?*

*Annnnnnnd. . .I've officially run out of ways to waste time on the internet.

Matt: Singer/Songwriter

Man, you know how you know when you're bored and determined to be a waste of space?  Well, it happens when you start Googling yourself.  And that's what I was just doing, because apparently I want to become a pile of gelatinous ooze.  Or because I'm just psyching myself up to make the best ice cream that's ever been made.  I'd go with the former if I were you.*

So, anyway, back to the Googling.  Well, I Googled "matt mandy mitch" to see what that would turn up.**

And among a few other things (one of which was a Mitch Hedberg joke-a-day list), this video came up.



I said that it was some kind of children's church.  Matt said that, no, it wasn't.  He said that, instead, it was some kind of Children of the Corn cult.***  Then he broke out into his own verse:

". . .then we kill our parents with knives--IN THE BACK YARD!"

Isn't Matt the best?


*It doesn't matter anyway, because I was productive enough at school in the last two days to make up for seven weeks of doing nothing.


**Yes, I am a narcissistic dork, but you are, too.  Don't even try to act like you've never done it.

***I haven't actually seen that movie because I don't watch scary movies because they scare me.

This and That

Here's what fun and exciting in our neck of the woods.

1.  Green Bay is going to the Super Bowl.  Now, I don't care about football (unless we're talking about high school football in Dillon, Texas), but I am excited about Green Bay's success this year.  I have three reasons for this enthusiasm.  1.) Aaron Rodgers, who is their handsome bearded quarterback, won Matt a fantasy football league this year.  Cha-ching!  2.) Green Bay has the best uniforms.  3.) I bought Baby June a hat in the Green Bay colors (her dad's a big fan), and I think it'd be extra cool if they went on to win.

2.  My favorite mechanic who works on Volvos, Mike from Auto Intensive Care (he's tied with my other favorite mechanic, Paul, who is handsome and honest and is always wiping his hands with a towel in a very handsome way--oh, and he is really good at fixing cars) sent an email today where they have some car care package where you can get like $600 worth of car maintenance stuff for $99.  It's a crazy good deal, and it's crazy smart on his part.  If you live in Savannah, I recommend calling Auto Intensive Care and signing up.  (I can email you the details if you'd like--just leave a comment.)

3.  Another thing for Savannah folk: you need to go eat at Saigon Bistro.  We went there on Sunday for lunch and it was omigod good.  The food was fresh and delicious and cheap (the most expensive thing on the menu was $8), and I'll be really sad if they go out of business.  So go there already!

4.  Our new semester starts tomorrow, which is awesome because that means that the year is half over.  It's also awesome because I'll only have one prep and I'll have third block planning (So I have planning from 11:00-1:10 and can eat lunch at the time that most humans do.  Looks like someone will be getting lots of takeout from Saigon Bistro!).  I love the part of my job where I get lots of fresh starts and new beginnings.

5.  On Friday I went to Back in the Day Bakery with a friend, and while we were there, Southern Living magazine's photographers were there doing a photo shoot, like, RIGHT next to us.  Look for the April issue of Southern Living, which will be giving props to the best little bakery in the SAV, and know that I was sitting right next to that beautiful cupcake.

6.  Mitch is still insanely cute.

7.  Made marshmallows over the weekend.  I made them for Matt's godfather, who lives in South Florida and freezes whenever the temperature dips below 75.  He insisted that peppermint marshmallows had to be green, so I honored his weird request.  Ooh, and I figured out how to swirl them!

8.  Got a dresser for free from Craigslist.  I've got grand plans for it.  Get excited.

9.  When we were in Florida, Matt's mom bought me an awesome lamp for my birthday.

10.  And it has a spot on the awesome shelf that she also got for me.  Am I spoiled or what?  (Also, I am like the very last of all of my friends to get this shelf, and I couldn't be a happier copycat.)  Oh, and this will look different soon, once I get Cassie over here to help with shelf styling (already totally copied her sewing maching idea).  And, no, that's not Mitch's angelic glow off to the left; I just don't know how to take a good picture of the shelf with the lamp on it.

Hope your week is a breeze!

Mitchouette

Brace yourself, because you're about to see something that rivals the porcelain roller skate for the title of greatest thing of all time.

Last week I posted about how obsessed I've become with Fire Hydrant Press on Etsy.  After communicating with the shopkeeper (Is that what you call people who have Etsy shops?  If not, it should be.) about American Dingo/Husky silhouettes, I realized that there didn't exist a stock photo that looked exactly like my little Mitchell, my dog dream come true, the E.T. to my Elliott.

[source]

Except that this would never happen because Mitch hates bicycles. 

So I decided to go the route of the custom silhouette, where I could send in a picture of Mitch that she would use to create the silhouette.

I sent in this picture (taken the day I found a special surprise on the picnic table).

And she made this.

And I love it with my heart and with my soul. 

What do you think?  Do you kind of want to steal this image and put it on a tshirt?  Or a tote bag? 

A Need and Not a Want, I Don't Care What You Say.

Have you ever been out shopping and seen something that was just so ridiculous, or so weird, or so hilarious, that you knew that you had to buy it? But then you didn't buy it because it was ridiculous/weird/hilarious and you know that responsible adults don't buy such things, so you walked away. And then for the next week you thought about that awesome hilarious weirdness and how much you needed it and so you rationalized the purchase, and went back to the store to splurge--only to find that your treasure was gone.

I've had such regrets.

Like, one time old roommate Cris and I were at TJMaxx around Christmas, and there was this 2 ft. tall stuffed cat, dressed as Santa, holding a scepter and wearing a crown. Cris and I stood in that aisle doubled over laughing for like 20 minutes laughing at that Cat King Santa.

Now is the part where I'd show you a picture of Cat King Santa, but I can't, because it was $35, and we didn't buy it because we were trying to be grown-ups. That was like five years ago, and every time I pull out my Christmas stuff, I think about that glorious opportunity that we missed, and I become sad. Time and again, Cris and I have lamented our poor decision, and every year when TJMaxx puts out their holiday stuff, I hunt for another Cat King Santa, but to no avail.

But I've learned from my mistakes. And that's why this weekend when I was at HomeGoods, I not only found, but also purchased, the greatest object in the history of mankind. (Except for maybe the KitchenAid mixer, but we can have that argument later.)

It's a porcelain roller skate.

Isn't it the greatest thing you've ever seen? It was $25, which is approximately $25 more than one should pay for a porcelain roller skate, but I don't care, because it makes me much more than $25 happy.

I mean, is this roller skate kidding me right now with its awesomeness?

Anyway, lest you think me irresponsible for spending $25 on something so useless, you should know that it'll make a great doorstop (it's super heavy), and that it can be either a groovy sculpture or a flower vase.

 It would also make a great bookend, or defense weapon in case of an intruder. I think I might even use it to store pencils.  Or to earn the respect of one Gloria Gaynor.



What else can I do with my roller skate?

A Friday Mystery.

**If you don't like gross stories, stop reading now.**

Okay.  So, we have a picnic table in our back yard.  We hardly ever sit at it, but it's out there to make us look more outdoorsy than we are (kind of like the roof racks on my car).

Sometimes when Reilly is here he'll jump up on it and bark at things, and sometimes when I'm chatting on the phone I'll go outside and sit on top of it, but other than that, it doesn't really get any use.

It's just a standard picnic table.  Nothing special about it at all.

Well, there was nothing special about it until yesterday.  See, I had gone out to the back yard to take pictures of Mitch (because he's going for a Guinness record for most photographed dog), and after snapping away and asking him a billion questions in that tone of voice that will make him cock his head just enough to the side to make my heart melt one hundred times over, I noticed something bizarre.

On the bench of the picnic table (the bench!) was a large pile of feces. 

In other words, something--or someone--pooped on the picnic table.*

It was right where the star is!  But how?

But who?  And why?  And how?

I'm not sharing this with you because of the "gift" left to us on our table so much as I'm sharing it because it's a great mystery.  So far I've been able to rule out both Mitch and Reilly as Picnic Table Poopers.**  I suppose it could have been a neighborhood dog, but I never really see any dogs around here that are bigger than Mitch, and the pile suggested that it was a large creature.  Plus, you know how dogs are all neurotic when they're doing their business.  The bench itself isn't wide enough for a large dog to spin around in circles, and it's far enough away from the top of the table to make it difficult to go at it from the top.

So here's what I'm left with: I think it was a person.  And I think we were the target of Savannah's Picnic Table Pooper.  Maybe the person was trying to protest the fact that we still have our Christmas lights up.  Maybe it was a student of mine.  Maybe there's just some drunk hobo wandering the neighborhood pooping on people's picnic tables.  Maybe some cheating Amish fellow read the blog (which he wasn't supposed to be doing!) and decided to find us and punish us in the best way he knew how.

That said, who the fuck poops on a picnic table!? 

*You should know that Cassie strongly advised against posting anything on the blog about my Picnic Table Pooper mystery.  I rejected her sage advice, because sometimes I like to write about gross stuff (like here and here and here).

**I've also been able to rule out both Matt and myself as the Picnic Table Pooper***, because we'd been out of town.  Horray for alibis!

***Also, why is it so much fun to say "pooped on the picnic table" or "picnic table pooper"?  Try it.  Say it right now.  Just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?

Ain't No Thang But a Chicken Wing.

Matt's mom is from Buffalo, and every year on Thanksgiving they'd make the trip back north to visit family, and on the day after Thanksgiving they would order pizza and wings (mind you, this is BUFFALO) and Matt would eat approximately 789 wings.  Everyone would watch in awe.  When he got a little older, he went on a pilgrimage to the Anchor Bar, the home of the original Buffalo wing.  He cried a little, and proceeded to eat his weight in chicken wings.*

I can wax nostalgic about this topic, too, because for three years during college I worked at Buffalo Wild Wings, slinging beer and meat about.  I actually didn't eat wings when I started working there, but I've never really been one to turn down free food, so it wasn't too long before I was hiding in the back of the kitchen, gnawing on chicken bones with wing sauce all over my face.  Just like the lady I am.

You can imagine, then, how easy it was to woo Matt.  All I had to do was show up at his door with a bucket of 50 or 100 leftover wings from work at 2:30 a.m. (after he'd been playing beer pong all night), and immediately I rocketed up to super girlfriend status.  (But let's be honest--I was pretty much already as high as one could reach on the super girlfriend scale.)

And tonight Matt got to cross something off of his bucket list, because we made wings.  Really really really delicious wings.  What was extra cool was that they were easy, albeit time-consuming.

If you're a wing lover like we are, or if you're looking to wow people at a Super Bowl party in the near future, give these a try. 

Ingredients
Chicken wings, room temperature
Frank's Wing Sauce (or whatever wing sauce you prefer)
Vegetable Oil

Directions
1. Fill a deep pan (we used the dutch oven) with 2 inches of oil.  Heat oil on medium heat (don't get all impatient and turn it up to high or you'll end up burning your wings) until it reaches 350 degrees.

2.  With tongs, place--don't drop!--wings in the oil in a single layer.  (Be careful not to cook too many at once.)  Cook wings until they float.  We like our really crispy, so we let them cook for almost ten minutes after they began to float.

3.  Remove wings from oil and transfer to a large bowl.  Toss in sauce. 

4.  (optional)  Place sauced wings on a baking sheet and bake in the oven at 350 for about five minutes. 

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go wipe some sauce off my face.

*That was a lie.  Matt didn't cry.  I've never seen him cry because he's dead inside.

This and That

1.  Today's been a doozy.  But, fortunately, doozies of days are nothing that good friends, cute dogs, three glasses of wine, and a shower that's so hot that you can hardly stand it can't handle.  That's good, at least.

2.  Mitch's feet smell like Doritos.  I love to eat Doritos.  But I don't love to eat Mitch's feet.  Doesn't that violate everything that I learned in geometry?

3.  Obam' is the man.  I don't care what you say.  He's a hard core smart thinkin' badass.  If I was the kind of girl who typed out hearts, you'd get about a million and a half of them right now.  Fortunately for all of us, I'm not the kind of girl who types out hearts.  I have some self-respect.

4.  Speaking of typing, in which camp do you fall?  Are you a two-spacer after a period?  Or a one-spacer?  I'm a two-spacer, because that's what I learned to do when I was in high school with that prudish keyboarding teacher whose name I can't remember, (What was it, Tanya?  You had her, too.)  But apparently people get all crazypants about this. 

5.  Looking to buy an awesome and cheap gift?  Try Fire Hydrant Press.  Are you kidding me right now with colorful dog silhouette goodness?  I want all of it.  And, yes, I did contact the seller today to see if she has an American Dingo silhouette. 

6. Don Draper is so hot I can't stand it.

7. Had spicy pork stew for dinner.  Had forgotten just how good it is.  To combat the healthiness of the stew, I made some jalapeno cornbread.  I insisted that it was dry but Cassie assured me that it was just crumbly like cornbread.  (I still think she was lying.) Also, it's nice when Cassie's over for dinner and you're all "Oh man, I don't have buttermilk, but I do have milk, half-and-half, and heavy cream" (oh the life of an ice creamer) and she's all "Oh, that's easy.  Just take a cup of milk and add a teaspoon of vinegar to it and it'll curdle a little and then you've got buttermilk."  Why is Cassie such a little encyclopedia of food knowledge?

8.  Speaking of food, I'm determined to make an awesome Samoa ice cream.  You know, like the Girl Scout cookie.  (Or Caramel Delights if you're in the North.)  So I need to figure out the perfect combination of shortbread, caramel, coconut, and chocolate.  Whattaya think?

9.  Are you also really excited about the final season of Big Love?  Do you hate Bill as much as I do?

10.  Finally, last but certainly not least, how pumped are you about the second season of Teen Mom?  Babies havin' babies, and doing stupid shit for the whole world to see.  It's television gold, I tell you!

Seventh Annual Florida Vacation!

This weekend we trekked down to Ft. Lauderdale to visit Matt's godfather, my soulmate, and Matt's parents.  This year was the seventh year that we've made the trip, and it's one of our favorite times of the year.  It's not dramatic or super exciting, which is exactly why we love it.  (I wrote about it more last year.) 

This year's trip was more of the same (which is awesome because we love the same), except that we won a little less in poker and I got to visit with another friend who recently moved to South Florida.  It was so great to be with friends and family, and our annual Ft. Lauderdale trip always reminds me how fortunate I am to have such wonderful people in my life.

Here are some pictures from the trip, bookended by pictures of Sir Mitchell (who elected not to go and instead stayed home with his best friend).

 Rabid wolves left behind to guard the house

Godfather 

Soulmate 

Matt's parents still hate having their pictures taken, so here's another one of them

from when they were younger. 

Soulmate loves it when we hold hands with interlocking fingers.  Loves it. 

 Why is it so fun to watch turtles? 

Mitch and his new rat baby.

And now we've got a four-day week.  Shoot yeah! 

How was your weekend?