Less Than Gandhi.

Here's something you might not know: Matt is smart.  He's like sickeningly, ridiculously smart.  He reads like fifty books to my one, and he's rational and insightful and seems to know, well, everything.  And if he doesn't know it, he goes and reads a whole book about it and then knows it.  He can even do math!  I, on the other hand, fall asleep after reading one article in Entertainment Weekly, am occasionally lacking in the rational thinking department, and was told by my college advisor that my "math scores reflect the English major in [me]."  Shoot.

Now, don't get me wrong.  I'm thrilled to have a smart husband, and I really like it when I can just ask him about something (Arab Spring?) and he can explain it in a way that I can easily understand it (because he's basically Mama to my Forrest Gump).  But sometimes it's annoying to always be the dumb one, or to only be able to contribute to trivia contests if the category is 90210 or cities that have hosted the Olympics.

So Matt knows everything, which is simultaneously fantastic and annoying.  When he was a kid, though, he took an IQ test (which I may have already mentioned here at some point), but he never received a definitive score because while he was off the charts on everything linguistic and rational and whatnot, when it came to anything spatial he scored slightly lower than Mitch would.

Matt doesn't understand shapes.

Anyway, last night we were creepin' on Chloe's Facebook page--oh wait! Time for some awesome pictures lifted from her page--

Hufflepuff.

--and Matt saw an old status of hers that said, "i <3 gandhi."  Matt was confused.

Matt:  I less than three Gandhi?  Chloe is less than three Gandhis?

Idiot.

Love and Marriage

[source]*

[Matt notices the peach pit that Mandy left next to the computer.  Disgusted, he picks it up and rises from his seat.]

Matt: After dark?!


*Um, this is actually a picture of a peach pit that's been carved in the likeness of JFK, our second most handsome president.  Weird.

Schwinnnnng!

I mentioned before that Matt and I recently purchased a new elliptical trainer.  And, for those of you who are counting, this is our third elliptical.

The good news is that we actually use our home exercise equipment.  (Well, Matt does, anyway.)

The bad news is that we are so grossly fat that we break all of our home exercise equipment.  (Well, I am, anyway.)

Our former elliptical had gotten to the point where it squeaked and thumped and clicked and scraped and was so incredibly loud that I couldn't even be in the room when Matt was ellipting, much less get on it myself.  I would get on for like 15 seconds, and then become irate and frustrated, and then I'd spend the next hour trying to figure out how to stop the noises.  I had some small successes, but more failures--most of which culminated in me kicking the machine and shouting obscenities.

We needed a new one.  And I looked on Craigslist (where we'd gotten the previous two), but didn't see anything too promising.  Plus, it seemed that we needed a machine with a warranty.

So we researched and read up and checked out Consumer Reports.  And we ended up here, drooling over the Schwinn 430.

Four and a half stars with 518 reviewers!  Shoot yeah!  We talked it over for a day or two, and then decided that it was a good investment.  You know, for health and stuff.

And after some headaches with the transit company (What?  They just forgot to put it in the truck???), we had it at home and Cassie and I put it together.

Along with the alan wrench, we had two very important tools: a knife and some wine.  It's common knowledge that when putting together exercise equipment, one will have much more success if he is drinking wine.  Also, I'm pretty sure that that's in the book of Proverbs.  THE BIBLE, people!

Where was I?

Oh yeah, the elliptical.  We totes got that thing together in two hours.  It might not have taken so long had one of our tools not been wine, but it would have been much less fun, too.  Plus, we told Matt that we put it together in 38 minutes.  Pfffffffffft.

Anyway, the new elliptical is out of control wonderful.  It's smooth and silent and smart and has a smaller footprint than the old clunky one.  And it has a warranty in case we break it.  And now I love to ellipt again, and I can do it whilst watching one of the best shows of all time.

Oh, Dylan.

(Ummmmm, Kelly totes just got shot, y'all.  And Brandon was so precise in describing the shooter to the detective and the detective was all, "Are you sure about this?" and Brandon was all, "Yes, I'm positive.  And I'll tell you something else.  You put him in front of me, and I'll kill him."  All this after the gang returned from Donna's Hawaiian work trip where she completely ruined the modeling shoot and David fell down a cliff when he was trying to tie his hiking boot!  AND!  They were all wearing these hideous long pastel dresses.  The gals from Beverly Hills were looking more like the women from Juniper Creek to me.)

The best part of the new elliptical, though, is that it has a feature that allows me to see into the future.

I see. . .





. . .in about two months. . . .







. . .Matt at the beach. . .

. . .and me, too!

This thing is magical!

Cookie Brothers

Remember my favorite cookie, the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup cookie from yesteryear (or May)?  Well, the other day I had a flash of genius when I decided to switch things up a bit by replacing the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups with Reese's Pieces.  Crazy, I know.*

The results: pretty f'ing good.  They're different from their cookie twin brother.  I mean, if these cookies were Brandon and Brenda, these would be. . .Dylan.  I hate Brenda.  That was a bad analogy.  Yeah, these cookies are Dylan.  I loved Dylan. . .**

(So maybe the cookies aren't so much brothers as they are sideburned sexy best friends?)

What's more yummy?  Cookies, or Dylan McKay circa 1992?  That's a tough one.

Anyway, here's the recipe. 

Reese's Pieces Cookies

Ingredients


1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature
3/4 cup dark brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 large egg
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/2-1 cup Reese's Pieces

Directions

1.Heat oven to 375° F. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt.

2.Using an electric mixer, beat the butter and sugars until creamy. Add the egg and vanilla and beat to combine. Gradually add the flour mixture, mixing until just incorporated. Fold in the Reese's Pieces..

3.Drop tablespoon-size mounds of dough 2 inches apart onto the prepared baking sheets. Bake until light brown around the edges, 12 to 15 minutes. Transfer to a baking rack to cool.
 
*Also, I feel like it should be noted that I don't smoke marijuana.  In fact, I've never smoked marijuana.  Isn't that weird?  I guess it was my way of rebelling against my family of unmotivated stoners.  Anyway, I just wanted you to know that these "flashes of genius" have nothing to do with cases of the munchies.  Not high, just fat.

**Not drunk right now, either.  Just incoherent.

9-02-10!

First, let's all wish Caitie a happy birthday!  Welcome to 29, Cait.  It's bitchin'.  You'll love it.

Now, today is special for another reason, too.  (And I'm so jealous that Caitie gets to share a birthday with such a momentous occasion.)  Today, friends, is 9-02-10.  Oh yes.  As in, Beverly Hills 90210.  You know, the greatest show to ever grace television. 



I was in the fifth grade when 90210 premiered.  It aired on Thursday nights, and, full of angst and nervous delight, I would wait all week for a new episode.  Now, I wasn't allowed to watch 90210.  My parents believed that watching such a marvelous show would turn me into some roofie-inhaling skank, so they forbade me from watching it.  As you might guess, this was during their fundamentalist Christian phase, when they sent me to Baptist school and we went to church multiple times per week.  Fortunately for me, my parents went to a Bible study on Thursday nights, so I could watch it without them knowing.  Praise Jesus! 

Omigod it was so awesome.  The clothes, the drama, the premarital sex, the sideburns, the cars, the accidental gun deaths, the blind piano tutors, the affairs, the trips to Mexico, the music, the bangs! 

Some of my favorite 90210 moments include:

• When Kelly and Brenda wore the same dress to prom
• When Brenda got into the car accident in Brandon's car and thought she had given that old woman whiplash, only to discover later that the woman was a con artist
• The Peach Pit.  I love Nat. 
• That time that Dylan cheated on Brenda with Kelly while Brenda was in Paris, and Brenda kept listening to "Losing My Religion" and when Brandon asked why she said that that was the song that was playing the first time that she and Dylan broke up, and she thought that was the worst that she'd ever feel, except that now that they were broken up a second time she'd give anything to feel that way again. Watch it. It'll make your day.

• That time that the nerdy boy Scott accidentally killed himself with a gun on the anniversary of the Pearl Harbor attack

• That time that Donna caught her mom cheating on her dad and Kelly brought Color Me Bad to sing to her at the Peach Pit so that she would cheer up.  (Oh, the hair!  Oh, the jewelry!)

• That time that Donna got drunk before prom and then wasn't allowed to participate in graduation activities.  DONNA MARTIN GRADUATES!
• That time Dylan's dad exploded.  AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

• And, last but not least, the musical stylings of a Mr. David Silver

Oh, what a glorious show!  I am, of course, forgetting about a million other clips of awesomeness.  What's your favorite 90210 moment? 

(ALSO, Matt's favorite sports writer and 90210 nut, Bill Simmons, is devoting an entire podcast to the show today.  You should be able to download the podcast here.)

Whoop! Whoop!

It appears that Mitchell Pancake is just as happy as I am that today was the last day of school. 

Less happy is Reilly, who had to take a bath in the kitchen sink (A bath that was reminiscent of the one I had to give him at Hugh and Cassie's, when both Mitch and Reilly went to the back yard to pee, and Reilly stood directly under Mitch's stream of urine as he himself took a whiz.  It was hilarious and disgusting, and I wish I'd had my camera.). 

And since Reilly seems to be having some dry skin/bald patch issues, and I don't want to send him home to his mother in worse shape than we got him (but we always send him home fatter--Reills loves to lick the Le Creuset after a batch of pot roast), I thought I'd wash him up with my Dove body wash for sensitive skin.  It's been great for me, so why not for him?  (Plus, I got the okay from Reilly's mom.)  The little pup wasn't so appreciative, however.

Mitch was happy that he doesn't fit in the sink.

I'm happy because school is out.  And I remembered that 90210 (the original) airs on Soap Network on afternoons (WTF, Brandon's stalker girl Emily is a freakfest!).  And I took a 4-hour nap.  And then we went to dinner at Blowin' Smoke.  And then we came home and watched Friday Night Lights and I cried, because that's what I do when I watch Friday Night Lights.

And now Mitch is chasing his tail.  I think he's bragging.  "Hey, Reilly.  See my tail?  It's so great.  I mean, I can chase it and bite it and everything.  It's too bad you only have that nub.  Want me to pee on you again?"

And now Mitch is attacking Matt with with elbow kisses.

And now I need to get another glass of wine.

I Am Engorged with Venom.

No, not really.  Although I did go to the Victory Drive Kroger at 8:00 tonight, and if that experience doesn't cause one to hate the world then I don't know what will.  I want to send Jamie Oliver to that store to criticize people for the lack of veg in their carts. 

But back to Glee. 

Was it just us, or were there too many songs in this one?  Geez oh Pete!  There were three full-length songs in the first twenty minutes.  Shooooooooooot.  Matt lamented that perhaps the show was devolving into a musical with just a little bit of plot instead of a dramedy with a little bit of music.  Any thoughts on that?

And what did you think about the girls' dresses in the "Hello, Goodbye" number?

They made me think of these dresses:

And that made me smile, and made me forget all about Kroger.

Sweet Valley High--THE GAME!

Will you play with me? I have to find my boyfriend in time for the big date!

Check out those handsome boyfriends.

Bruce Patman, you're like Brandon Walsh and Dylan McKay had a baby. I sure hope I don't get sent to detention!

Has anyone seen my biking outfit? Oh, there it is!

Each player assumes the role of one of the Sweet Valley characters. I've always fancied myself a hybrid of Jessica and Elizabeth. You know, smart but fun. And, of course, a perfect size six. (By the way, the more modern Sweet Valley books describe the Wakefield girls as being a "perfect size four." That's effed up.)

Can't resist sharing these situation cards with you.

How did we ever grow up to be well-adjusted adults after playing this shit?

Jessica's a whore.

What kind of fight was this? A fist fight? Arm wrestling? Jousting? Knowing Lila, it started out with some passive aggression and ended with a screaming match. Go Enid!

Winston? Who the hell is Winston? And I'm pretty sure that if your last name is Egbert then you are automatically the nerd.

Yep. And also a pedophile, since Winston appears to be at least 45 years old.

Classic Sweet Valley situation. THIS is the reason I wanted to be a twin. What antics!

Was the rumor that Enid had an STD? How did it backfire? Is this situation related to the earlier fight over boyfriends? Does Enid have a STD? Does Lila?

At least Lila doesn't have to put back a boyfriend. She needs to get him in time for the big date!

Come to my house. We'll play some Sweet Valley board game, and then move on to Friends Scene It! I'll make cookies.

Sweet Valley High--THE MOVIE!

Did you read the Sweet Valley books as a kid (or as a teenager, or yesterday)? I devoured them, captivated by the fantasy of being a twin, of being blonde and beautiful, of living a glamorous life in California. I remember being in third grade, discussing plans for the future with one of my friends: "Well, I'm going to have twin girls, and I'll name them Jessica and Elizabeth." There was nothing cooler (until, of course, 90210 came along) than the Wakefield twins.

I had two favorite Sweet Valley Twins books, the one where the girls skip school to see a TV star (Playing Hooky), and the one where all of the girls attend a sham charm school run by con artists (The Charm School Mystery). I read each of them over and over again.

I even own the Sweet Valley High board game (I also own the Family Ties board game, and Friends Scene It!), the same one I played at a slumber party when I was eight.

The details of the game deserve their own post. It's a blast from the past. But here's a sneak peek. Yes, it says, "Can you find your boyfriend in time for the big date?"
As the twins got older and attended high school, the content got more racy. It was awesome.

Imagine my excitement, then, when last night I read in Entertainment Weekly that Diablo Cody (who wrote the screenplay for Juno) is working on a Sweet Valley High movie.

I'll be there on opening night, wearing purple. I am, after all, an honorary Unicorn.

Frenemies

Do you listen to This American Life? If you don't, you should probably start. It's pretty much the best radio show that's ever been. It's actually a TV show now, too, on Showtime. Both are smart, witty, moving--the works. Each week the producers pick a theme, and then provide a variety of stories on that theme. Don't think for a second that it's boring.

One of the more recent episodes was on the theme of Frenemies (listen to it here). Oh, Frenemies.

If you are reading this, and you are female, there is a good chance that you either 1.) Have a friend you hate, or 2.) Have had a friend you hated. Frenemies. It's one of those things that just happens in girl world.

Pop culture has been tackling the concept for some time now. Think Brenda and Kelly, Lucille and Lindsay Bluth, Liz Lemon and Jenna dumbass, Rachel Greene and her sisters, Monica Lewinsky and Linda Tripp. It's become accepted that we just won't like or respect some of the people with whom we have close relationships. Isn't that terrible? What bitches we are!

What I found most interesting about the "Frenemies" show was the discussion about how there have been studies done that have shown that it is unhealthy for people to maintain friendships with people they don't like, or to remain in toxic relationships. You know, heart rate, blood pressure, and a host of other medical problems.

I made an executive decision a few years back when I decided that I would no longer be friends with people I didn't like. Unfriending, if you will. The idea was so simple, but it was life-changing, liberating.

And I'll never look back. Life's too short to spend it in shitty relationships, especially when you could be around people who are caring, sincere, interesting, fun, kind, and loyal. Fortunately for me, I have lots of those kinds of people in my life.

Do you have frenemies? What do you do about them?

Blackout Monday

Matt and I were so excited for a quiet night at home last night. We'd been on vacation, we'd hosted Chloe, we'd gone to Augusta, we'd driven approximately 1.3 million miles. We were ready to relax, watch the news and Jeopardy!, cook dinner, and do very little otherwise.

Nature and Savannah's shitfest of a power grid had other plans. A huge thunderstorm came through and knocked out our power around 6:00 p.m., which crippled our plans for the evening. (Not to mention that the storm interrupted my viewing of a really dramatic episode of 90210, the one where Valerie pretends to be pregnant to make her married boyfriend give her $100,000.)

And Mitch isn't so much a fan of giant thunderstorms. Throughout the storm he nervously laid between Matt and me on the bed, pretty much being the cutest thing ever. Once it passed, he came out to inspect the damage.


There was no real damage caused to our house, but there was a pretty pretty rainbow.

And the sky looked pretty great.

We decided to go out for dinner with the hopes that the power would be back on when we returned. Yeah, right. This is Savannah. The power would be out for a long while.

Fortunately, I'm a candle freak. Years ago I bought these lanterns at IKEA. Since moving here, they've been quite handy. Go buy some if you're planning on moving to a city that hasn't updated the power grid in 300 years.

We played the most excruciating game of Scrabble of all time. I blame it on Matt, who started off our game with the word "oak." It was miserable, and he was winning handily before I decided that we should just quit. Matt is so much better at Scrabble than I am, and it sometimes makes me feel like I'm more stupid than Valerie's married boyfriend.

The really shitty part of the blackout was that the people two streets up from us and one street down still had power. Ours didn't come back until 8:30 this morning. I'm going to put this episode in the "Reasons to Leave Savannah" column.

Our power's been iffy today, and if it goes out again tonight, I'm writing my congressman!

This is Jeopardy!

Raymond: Course I got Jeopardy! at five o'clock. I watch Jeopardy!
Charlie: Don't start with that, Ray.

It's possible that I married Raymond Babbit, Dustin Hoffman's character from Rain Man. On weekdays Matt must--MUST!--watch Jeopardy!. If he is away from the house and thinks that he forgot to record it, he'll call me and ask me to check the DVR and make sure that it's recording.

Matt's love for Jeopardy! is rooted in his love for trivia (and the superiority he feels when competing against other people in any trivia-related activity). He knows a lot of useless stuff. He even knows the answers to the ballet and opera categories. WTF?

Not surprisingly, Matt owns me in anything trivia-related. I can usually beat him if the question is about: the Olympics, the Bible, or Beverly Hills 90210. One of the greatest moments in my life was when Matt and I were playing '90s Trivial Pursuit, and I ended up getting a shitload of questions about 90210, and they were always for pie. Finally, I received my final question. It, again, was about 90210, and asked what the name of the night club behind the Peach Pit was. Matt didn't think I would know the answer, but then I shouted out "PEACH PIT AFTER DARK!" and began to celebrate. He shook his head in shame, not because he lost the game, but because he was dating someone who was so knowledgable about 90210. Since I've sucked Matt into my world of inane television drama, he now knows the answers to many of the questions I would have monopolized in the past. Like this one:


We've created little games that we play whilst watching Jeopardy!. Back in college, we would play drinking Jeopardy, which was a fun and dangerous game. Basically, each of us would choose a contestant. When our contestant got an answer wrong, we had to drink. When either of the other contestants got an answer right, we had to drink. There was also some form of wagering on Daily Doubles and Final Jeopardy, but I can't remember. Now that we're mature adults who can't get college drunk every night, we no longer play drinking Jeopardy. (But apparently we're not too mature for the Friends drinking game, which has become a staple of our Thanksgiving celebration.)

We still pick contestants, and of course we shout out the answers. One of my favorite--and obnoxious--things to do is to repeat Matt's answers and pretend like I came up with them on my own. Matt will be all, "Stonewall Jackson!" and I'll wait about a half a second and with the same enthusiasm shout, "Stonewall Jackson!" I'll also celebrate when the answer is, indeed, Stonewall Jackson.

By far, though, the best part about watching Jeopardy! is what we do with the final answer. When Alex (with whom Matt has a love/hate relationship) reveals the final category, we try to predict what the answer will be. For example: if the final category is American Authors, Matt and I will select an author. If the author we selected actually ends up being the answer (or really question), then WE WIN IN LIFE. That's right, we win IN LIFE.

It was like Christmas for Matt when we returned home from vacation--7 episodes of Jeopardy! that we could watch back to back. It even ended up being a bit of a self-esteem boost for Chloe and me because the week we were gone Jeopardy! aired Kids Week.

Last night we watched about five episodes of Jeopardy!, and I'm happy to announce that I won in life TWICE! Chloe won in life once, and Matt did not win in life. He seemed disappointed to be the only one who was not winning in life, but maybe this picture of a shirtless Alex will help to ease the pain.