My Boyfriend Can Sing, Too!

In case you missed it. . .

And he can dance, too! (Well, he can dance better than I can, what with my 5 years spent in Baptist school.)

In Case You Missed It. . .

It's possible that I'm the last person on earth to see these two videos, but they're both worth watching.

1.  Dogs and snow couldn't be cuter.



2.  Planet Rock.  Caitie called me today to introduce me to this.  Can next year's Christmas card be a video one where Matt and Mitch and I all do this dance?  OR--the new camera (It came today! Happy eeeeeaaak! More on that later.) takes HD video, so maybe I can just make it and post it here for you.

Blast from the Past

Okay, so here's the thing.  This video is super weird, and Matt had never seen it until tonight.  And he went to public school!  Hell, I went to foot-washing Baptist school and I'd seen the video, but I didn't remember the part at the end.  Winifred Trooper Feldmann! 



BTW, don't forget to pay attention to your kid while you shop.  Unless, of course, you want some crazy lady who will steal that kid and take him away, causing you to run down the street in your Z' Cavaricci pants in search of your kidnapped child.

Mandy's Famous Blackberry Sorbet

I'm at it again.  I guess that without the internet, there's just not that much to do around the house other than to make sorbet.  That, and I'm addicted to frozen treats.

This one's good.  I personally like the raspberry a little better, but that's because I like raspberries more than I like blackberries. 

And what's even more fun is that the blackberries are such a deep red color that they look like blood, and I like to pretend that I'm eating humans a la Tara and Eggs in season two of True Blood.

So here it is.

 Mandy's Famous Blackberry Sorbet (famous because I invented the recipe, which I almost never do, because I lack originality.  I think it's because my parents sent me to Baptist school when I was a kid.)

 Ingredients

24 ounces of blackberries (I used fresh, but you could use frozen if you let them thaw first)
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup water
Juice from 3 lemons

1. In a small saucepan, boil the half cup of water. When the water is boiling, add the half cup of sugar and stir until it is completely dissolved. Remove from heat.



2. Meanwhile, puree blackberries and lemon juice in a food processor.


3. In a large bowl, combine the blackberry puree with the simple syrup. Chill in refrigerator for 2-4 hours.


4. Place mixture in ice cream maker and churn according to manufacturer's instructions.


5. You can enjoy the sorbet immediately, or freeze it to achieve a more solid texture.
 
Happy Friday eating to you!

Single Ladies Devastation

Somewhere in the world there exists a video of Aunt Darcey dancing to Beyonce's "Single Ladies," and then tripping over a cooler in the Carport Bistro and busting her ass.  It's a good video, but since Darcey is a professional, and since I do still retain some sense of propriety, I probably won't be posting it on the interwebs for the whole planet.  (Hear that, Darcey?  Target gift cards will work just fine.  Just how much is that video worth?) 

But this one might even be better. 



The best part is the sister in the middle.

Have a good Friday!

Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love!

I saw Moulin Rouge three times in the theater, bought the soundtrack, memorized it, bought the second soundtrack, memorized it, listened to and watched both over and over and over again.  And I've been in love with Ewan MacGregor ever since he flashed that grin and belted out "Your Song."  Seriously.  Love.  True love.

And, inspired by the look of the film, painted my bedroom in college purple with lime green trim, and sprayed glitter on the trim, too.  Seriously.  Glitter.  Lime green trim.  It was pretty awesome.

I've never even made Matt watch Moulin Rouge because I am afraid that he will mock it and then I will have to divorce him.  I mean, I can understand how he would mock Center Stage--Center Stage is dumb.  But Moulin Rouge is art, and Matt has neither the eye for the visually stunning nor does he have attention deficit disorder, so he just wouldn't appreciate it.  Plus, as far as I can tell, he's not so much into dance like I am.

But I am into dance and critically acclaimed films and handsome men who sing songs.  So, whenever Moulin Rouge is on TV, or whenever I'm feeling like a pisspot, I watch it.  And I smile, and I sing the songs for days.

And then, when either Matt or Mitch are annoying me in any way, I, in the most dramatic voice with the most horrible British accent, scream at them: "Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love!" 

And they don't know what I'm talking about, and then they ask me to get them a treat. 

An exchange:

Me:  This movie made me want to paint everything with glitter.  It was all so sparkly!  And then I wanted to be a whore and live in an elephant and die of consumption!

Matt:  You know that consumption doesn't mean that you eat a bunch and then die, right?

He's no Ewan, that's for damn sure.

Flashdance Headbands: Dislike.

New trend that I am hatin' on: Flashdance headbands. I keep seeing girls wearing these headbands, but usually they're some sort of metallic braid-type thing.  What the hell?

Is this everywhere, or just at my school?  I mean, it'd be much cooler if the girls who wear the headbands would also adopt the other awesome fashion trends from the film, and maybe some of the dance moves, too.



Percent chance that Matt and I are both doing that crazy foot thing right now: 100.

Friday Fun

I spent waaaaaaaaaay too much time last night on says-it.com. There was laundry to be done, presents to be wrapped, pictures to be ordered, and a house to be cleaned--but none of these tasks could supercede the importance of the following:

Rohypnol just never gets old.

Happy Friday to you! Any big plans for the weekend?

AND A MERRY MITCHMAS TO YOU, TOO!

Oh, so now it's a war on Mitchmas? Bring it.

Pizza Pizza

Here's what I got today with the coupon I earned from ellipting.

Damn you, school with a Papa John's pizza line in the cafeteria!

Productive Like Monica

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Day three of the self-improvement plan, and I'm a regular Monica Geller. Man, do I ever feel improved! I was so busy improving and organizing and being productive yesterday that I didn't even have time to blog! Since Sunday I have:

• not taken a single nap (this is a much bigger accomplishment than it may seem!)
• gone to bed much earlier (between 11:30 and 12:30--not early per se, but way better than my previous 2:00 bedtime)
• ellipted every day (so that I can eat the entire bowl of Halloween candy and sleep like a champion)
• turned in my first quarter grades two days early (and was crazy productive all around at school)
• grocery shopped for the next 2 1/2 weeks (meal planning extraordinaire!)
• forced myself to get up 10 minutes earlier than my usual wake-up time (this is the biggest achievement of them all--next thing you know I'll be showering daily!)
• packed my lunch for school (to prevent ravenous inhalations of food upon returning home)
• still found time to snuggle with a dog (my life's purpose)

I don't have to go to school tomorrow (horray for furloughs?), so I'm really looking forward to sleeping in, enjoying the crisp air and the quiet no-screaming-teenagers Wednesday, and, of course, being even more productive.

Goodbye, Johnny Castle.

When I was in the second grade, my friends and I would play a game we called "Roomies," a more mature variation of house. We would pick out our boyfriends/husbands--selected on a first-come, first-served basis--create a conflict ("Okay, now you just found out that your boyfriend is cheating, and. . ."), and then drama would ensue.

The most sought-after boyfriend/husband? Patrick Swayze. Yes, this was during the time when Dirty Dancing was at the height of its popularity, when it was on HBO approximately 17 times per day. It was around then that People chose him as the sexiest man alive, and my friends and I concurred. It was a bit of a fight to get Patrick as your man.

My friend Sloan, who in hindsight was a bit of a bitch, always managed to call him first. And in the event that I managed to call him first, she would tell me that I couldn't have him because she always had him. Why was I friends with that girl?

Sloan's bitchiness caused me to pick an alternate, a Mr. Tom Cruise. (Tom and I were actually an item up until a couple of years ago, when he really amped up the crazy, causing me to dump him.) While I realized that there were, indeed, other handsome fellows out there, Patrick Swayze always held a special place in my heart.

Johnny Castle was my real first crush. He was so sexy, and so vulnerable, and such a good dancer! When I was seven years old, most of the adult themes of Dirty Dancing--arguably the greatest film of ALL TIME--flew over my head. But I did know a few things: Johnny was SO hot, Baby was cool, Lisa and Robbie were stupid, Johnny wasn't the one who got Penny in trouble (even though I didn't completely grasp the enormity of "in trouble"), and dancing was awesome.

I wasn't actually allowed to watch Dirty Dancing. Pfffft. Yeah, okay. Like that would work. I think that during that period of my life I would only become friends with girls who had HBO, girls whose parents either didn't care what we watched, or were seldom home. I had to get my fix.

And get my fix I have. I've seen the movie approximately 752 times. I could recite it to you right now. I quote it almost daily. Dirty Dancing has become part of my psyche, though somehow I still lack the ability to dance. F-ing Baptist school!

Johnny Castle, in all his sexiness with jumping off stages and jumping over porch railings to beat up assholes, in his amazing singing, in the way he squinted his eyes and mouthed the words "and I owe it all to you" to Baby during the final dance number, was the first man I lusted after. He was like the wind, through my tree. . .

I, along every girl my age, will miss you Mr. Patrick Swayze.