20% Done and Starting to Babble

Last week, my friend Jodi posted on Facebook, "Tuesday: Better than Monday at least."  And someone responded with, "And 20% closer to Saturday."

I didn't even have a bad day, but Summer Hours have this side effect:  When you don't have Friday off, the week drags on forever.

I took Spooky to the vet for a semi-annual check iin.  His labs are all in the normal range, though his potassium is low.  But it seems that without dropping $1500 on a full nephrological panel, anything is normal until the kidneys are really shutting down.  So where we began with trying to get him to eat some canned food (he pretends to eat beef flavored Gravy Lovers Fancy Feast), we have added on trying a potassium supplement.  It is in paste form, involves maple sugar and many cats eat it straight up. 

Ha.

When I drop his treats into a pile of said paste, he may or may not eat it.  However, I am not relying Spooky's treat whims for a twice-a-day supplement.  So each night, I take the plastic syringe and try to shoot it into his mouth.

Ha.  Ha.

My entire bedroom smells like pancakes, and Spooky is not speaking to me.  Of course, he wouldn't be speaking to me anyway, as pre-season started on Saturday.

The Bears played Saturday night.  It is notable because on Friday, Alex told me that his daddy was grounded from T.V. shows for three days.  Because he was mean.  Dude - if I told my father that he was grounded from bloody anything, my butt would have been kicked.  But they humored him.  OK, then so here's me:

"Alex, that's pretty harsh.  You know, the Bears game is tomorrow night.  Is Daddy really grounded from the Bears game?"

He said.  "Maybe..grounded for two days.  Then done tomorrow night."

Quite the merciful child. 

From lugging the kids around or whatever, my back was killing me.  I went for a massage yesterday.  You may know that a deep tissue massage is not relaxing.  It can be painful when someone is grinding out every knotted muscle in your back.  And when it is over, you feel rather bruised for a couple of days, because your skin takes some abuse in order to help the muscle tissue.  And you keep going back because at least the knots are gone.

People.  My back is actually bruised.

I cannot manage to get any reading done (which happens when you are reading one Russian epic and one Canadian history), but I am three episodes into the Highlander series.  Not really impressed yet, but I have already had a couple of awesome 1990's "wait! I know that guy!" moments.  Too bad Bull was the bad guy.

Finally, after the candy bar fix, I can recommend a rather healthy treat.

Del Monte Fruit Chillers now come in a tube.  Like a Mr. Freeze pop, but with actual fruit.  Unfortunately, like the old Mr. Freeze pop, you could eat five of them at a time.  I managed to stop at two.  And keep them away from the children.  I wonder how long these would last in the freezer at work.  Not that I am going to try it.

This really is going to be a long week.

The Answer is Cake

Weekend Assignment #331: Cake V. Pie (A Scalzi Flashback)

Which is better -- cake or pie? Explain your reasoning. Will you choose the moist sponginess and frosting-topped goodness of cake? Or will you side with those flaky crust-adoring, fruit-filling fanatics of the pie nation? You must choose one -- and only one! No trying to suggest that Boston Creme Pie is really kind of like a cake, or how cheesecake is actually not unlike a pie. Take a stand! Be true to your pastry orientation!

Extra Credit: Having chosen cake or pie, now admit your favorite variety of the dessert you did not choose. So if you chose cake, tell us your favorite pie. Prefer pie? Tell us your favorite cake. - J.S.

This was slightly more difficult than I thought.  I consider myself a cake person.  Actually, I consider myself a frosting person.  But I am really a recovering frosting person.  The last..half dozen times I have had cake, I have said out loud, "Someone please remind me next time:  I am not twelve years old and I don't really want that much frosting."

I have made a game of testing out every cupcake place in the District of Columbia.  It seems that some have better cake and some have better frosting.

I think part of the reason that I prefer cake is that you generally know what you are going to get.  There are a thousand ways to make a pie.  In fact, the current debate in my family is whether the apples in an apple pie should be mushy or "maintain structural integrity".

The answer is "maintain structural integrity".

I enjoy the fruit of the pie more than the pastry.  In fact, when dessert is ordered at any given restaurant, I often order whatever passes for the apple pie/crisp/cobbler.  And I generally have the same critique:

"Too much pastry, not enough fruit."

And then there is the risk that it is all too syrupy.  I have that problem with the strawberry pie at Baker's Square - which happens to be my father's favorite.  So whatever I order at a restaurant, I am really thinking that I would just prefer a normal slice of cake.  Yellow.  With chocolate frosting.

However, if I can't have that, the apple pie will do.  Heated.  With ice cream on the side.

Twix Java

I don't normally buy the impulse candy in check out line, but I saw this Twix Java, which reminded me of the Coffee Crisp in Toronto, so I gave it a try.

This picture is from a couple of years ago.  My package doesn't say Limited Edition, which makes me happy because it is really good and I hope it isn't "Limited".  The cookies are chocolate and the caramel has the coffee flavor. 

It has been a really long time since I had a regular-sized Twix bar, but these seemed a bit small.  And now that I am looking at the package, the net weight is 1.79 ounces, as compared to the 2.0 ounces in the package pictured. 

The nutritional information on my package says 250 calories and 13 grams of fat, which sounds to me like an average candy bar.  I wonder if they shrunk the serving to line up nutritional value or to be offering up less product for the money.  Discuss amongst yourselves.

So the texture is the same as I remember from a normal Twix and the new flavoring is very tasty.  It is not as good as the Coffee Crisp, but a pretty decent substitute.

Washington Misc 2

Seriously, people.  Don't come to this town in August.  It is 98 degrees.  I tried to go out after work and made it as far as the Air and Space Museum - across the street.  Thankfully, it is open late in the summer.  I haven't been there in a very long time.  I like it a lot, but not enough to fight the crowds on the average day. 

I have this weird habit that I imagine is the last breath of my maternal instinct coming out:  I find myself looking around wherever I happen to be and asking whether Alex would like it.  At that moment, I happened to tilt my head in the direction of the 747 and thought, "Whoa.  Yeah.  He would."

He's still too young.  I think we have agreed that I will bring him here when he is 10.

There were too many kids running around and I started to smell dirty diapers and had to leave.  So I sat down on the steps facing the mall and saw another artistic structure that I hadn't noticed before:

A big pole with some spindly things at the tops.  And some birds perched on it.  I am not even going to look up the meaning of this.

Then I gave up and went to find something for dinner.  Which reminds me.  At lunchtime, Stef took me over to Chinatown to the other cupcake bakery that everyone talks about, Red Velvet.  These cupcakes are $3.25, where I seem to recall the others are an even $3.00.  But they come in a nice box:

And the box has a cardboard thing inside so the cupcake doesn't tip.  I broke from my usual vanilla on vanilla test cupcake and chose the vanilla with chocolate frosting. 

Isn't it darling?  The cake was really good, with an almondy thing going on.  The frosting was very pretty, but tasted a bit off.  I can't really describe how.  Whatever.  Are we done with the cupcakes?  A few people are talking about the place in Georgetown that was on the Food Network.  My associates don't want to patronize the place because, "I watched that show and I don't like them."  Also, there isn't a great way to get to Georgetown from here.

So.  I am heading home tomorrow and won't be back for...four more weeks?  Let's hope I can remember my Metro card.

Washington Misc

I am back in Washington DC.  Things I forgot this time around:

1. My personal cell phone. (As opposed to my employer's cell phone.)
2. My iPod
3. My Metro card.  I think it had $12 on it.
4. The turn off to Long Term Parking at O'Hare.  So I am paying the regular Daily Rate.  This isn't actually a terrible thing, since it was pouring rain when I got to the airport and I would have been most cranky wandering the airport soaking wet.

Because Stef is now working out of the empty office I used to squat, I commandeered a conference room in Accounting.  Would you believe that someone ordered a whole bunch of cupcakes from someplace new and I was locked in with them all afternoon?  What is it with this place and the cupcakes?

The place was called Cake Love.  As always, I tried the vanilla.  It was ok.  The cake was pretty dense and the frosting was light.  It just wasn't all that exciting.  However, I looked on the website and the layered cakes look darling.

In other non-news, it is 95 degrees outside, I can't face the Metro at Rush Hour and I only brought one set of play clothes, so I am staying in tonight.  I plan to eat ice cream and watch more Daria on DVD. 

Falling Out of Fashion, by Karen Yampolsky

Book 34

As a result of Googling Jane Pratt, I found that her former assistant, Karen Yampolsky, wrote a roman a clef about the rise and fall of Sassy and Jane magazines.  But she did it from Jane's point of view.

It is total chick lit. I found myself cringing an awful lot at the behavior of the people running Nestrom - the stand-in name for Conde Nast Publications.  Apparently, it is all just like high school.  And Anna Wintour really is that bad.  There are enough juicy pieces in the book to make one wonder where the line was between fiction and reality.  Such as - did Jane Pratt really have a one week groupie fling with Michael Stipe in college?  So that was fun.  However.

I don't see much reason for anyone that isn't familiar with the magazines to read this book.  Unless you really, really like chick lit.

HP Tech Support

I was just talking with some friends yesterday about the concept of a “first world problem”. Stuff that you know that you shouldn’t complain about because your little inconveniences can’t possibly compare to the real problems of the world. But still.


For several months, I have been whining that I need a network printer in my house. Every time I have to print anything like..boarding passes, or driving directions, I have to do it from my mother’s room. So she picked one up for my birthday. I started the setup this afternoon.

I followed the instructions and loaded the software. Wi-fi worked and it was all connected. I got all the way to testing the printer when the machine started making a horrible noise that wouldn’t stop and it gave me an error code with a note to “Refer to Printer Documentation”. I went back to my little manual. Couldn’t find anything. I went online and searched for the error code. Nothing. I was forced to call customer service. I thought I was calling to get someone to tell me what the code means. Um..no.

Long story short (too late). Over an hour later they decided to send me a new printer.

I am not pleased with the experience because:

1. The stuff should work in the first place.

2. I should be able to look up every single error code know to man on the website.

3. By the third time I correct someone calling me “Sarah”, they should learn my name.

But mostly? I very much got the impression that HP was looking for a way to blame me for the problem. I lost track of the number of times I said, “No. The product is new. I just took it out of the box.” I had to give them my credit card number for collateral and the estimated delivery date on the new printer is August 18.

Unacceptable.

Go See This

My friend John is in this show. I would put up a picture of the playbill, but this is a family blog. Sort of.  I suppose I must go see it, even though it’s an..untraditional piece. And you all know how I feel about schlepping into the city.

John is a bit of a punk, and the last time I clicked in there, he hadn’t submitted a bio. So I have written one for him:

John Wilson is thrilled to return to the stage after a long hiatus fueled by red meat, booze, women and film noir. He came to Chicago sometime in the last millennium after graduating from Shorter College with a degree in Theatre Arts. He claims they did their first decent show after he graduated.  It was The Lion in Winter.  He's still bitter.

 John maintains a day job in a cube farm and writes a blog that is sometimes clever. Less so now that Lost is finished, but whatever. He still plays with Legos and knows more about Doctor Who than you do.

"Special Places"

Weekend Assignment #329: Lost and Found


Have you ever lost something important (or else just really unusual), only to find it again months or even years later? Were you glad to get it back, or was it no longer worth having by then? Tell us your tale of memorable things lost and found. Alternatively, if you never, ever lost anything important, tell us how you manage this nearly superhuman accomplishment. ;)


Extra Credit: If you could choose one missing item to mysteriously reappear in your home tonight, what would it be and why?

I remember it starting with Kris and Pam on the staff of our high school literary magazine:

“I will put this in a very special place so that I don’t forget it.”

They lost the only copy of a half-decent poem that I wrote. The “special place” method obviously didn’t work, and I adopted it anyway. The next evolution was to ask someone else to watch you putting something in the very special spot so that one of you remembers. Like, “Mom – look at where I am putting the title to my car.” It is twenty years later and I am still putting things in a “special place” so that I don’t forget. And I still shout to the person nearest to me – usually Joy, but sometimes my mother – what I am doing just so there is a witness to my madness.

People, I lose more things to “special places” than in any clutter in my home, office or car.

The title to my car is a decent example, although it didn’t take months to find. I forget why I decided that I needed it, but I had to tear apart my drawers of important papers. I knew I hadn’t thrown it out. I knew I wouldn’t leave it lying around. It had to be in there. I must’ve found a “special spot” for it.

I sure had. It was in a folder labeled (in my mother’s handwriting) “’93 Blazer”. ’93 Blazer being my last car. I had put the title to my current car in a folder that I was not going to throw away, but had no other use for. And apparently, I was just too lazy to make a new folder. Or even a new label. OK, great. I know where it is now. So of course, I put it back in the folder and put the folder back in the drawer for the next time I want to see it.

A few months ago, I lost my key to my office. It is in a pouch with a reusable gift card to the deli in our building. There is actually cash on the thing, too. I lost it during a particularly bad stretch of business travel. I was pretty sure that I left it in one bag or another, but I cannot find it anywhere and I really wish it would turn up now. Just so I can prove that I didn’t really lose it.

Club Dead, by Charlaine Harris

Book 33

I spent the last day of my vacation reading Club Dead, by Charlaine Harris - the third Sookie Stackhouse book.  The one where we are introduced to the werewolves.

Ugh.

In the eternal struggle between vampires and werewolves, I am clearly on the side of the vampires. 

The book opens with Bill being distracted and lame and going on a "business trip" and then disappearing.  What Eric was not going to tell her - but Pam made him spill - was that Bill was getting ready to drop her for Lorena.  I am rather liking Pam these days.  Eric has a vested interest in finding Bill, so he talks Sookie into going to Mississippi with a werewolf that he knows to find out where Bill might be.

The werewolf turns out to be a hottie and a rather nice guy that happens to have some baggage of his own.  We learn a bit about the wereworld and its relationship to the vampire world and that of the shape shifters.  Blahblahblah.  Lorena turns out to be working for the King of Mississippi, who is holding and turturing Bill into giving up a database of information that he has been compiling.

The most amusing thing about this book is a minor character named "Bubba".  Dim bulb of a vampire that has been set up as Sookie's bodyguard a couple of times in the series.  He takes orders literally and does not do any lateral thinking at all.  What I somehow missed before is that Bubba is actually Elvis Presley.  For serious.  In this world, a vmapire was in the ER when Elvis came in and turned him.  Except that Elvis' brain was already fried, so now he is a rather pathetic creature, who barely understands that he was once the King.

Anyway.  I was disappointed to see Eric get even more googly-eyed over Sookie, but I guess I'd better get over it.  It keeps him on the canvas, anyway.  I appreciated that Sookie kicked a bit of ass, and that at the end she sent the little boys out of her house and back to the playground.

As far as the link to the series - obviously Bill disappeared at the end of Season 2, but the rest of the set up doesn't quite add together.  So I am interested to see how HBO pulls the story arc in line.  Or doesn't.