tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64375836016147749502024-03-13T22:08:46.584-04:00Logical BlatherRandom tales from a chronic procrastinator who is simply trying to make sense out of life.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.comBlogger92125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-20017298570689669082011-07-18T01:58:00.000-04:002011-07-18T01:58:06.763-04:00The beard is history!I was <a href="http://logicalblather.blogspot.com/2010/07/gunning-for-beard.html">gunning for the beard</a> a year ago, and I've reached my goal. I was gradually losing weight, less than a pound a month, in order to get the husband to honor his commitment to shave his beard once I reached my wedding weight. I reached that number a few months back, took some time to make sure I would stay here, and I am thrilled to report that the husband has dusted off the razor and shaved it all off. He did it a little at a time, over the course of a few days, just as he did when the boy was born. The girl has never seen him like this, and the boy doesn't remember... so it's been fun.<br />
<br />
You might ask, "Now what?" <br />
<br />
I'm aiming for about 10 more pounds, which will be early high school weight! And the husband? He can't grow that beard back until he's halfway to HIS wedding weight. Love this!just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-67614928470883472682011-07-15T06:34:00.010-04:002011-07-18T02:39:37.321-04:00The end of a magical eraThe boy asked if we could go to the midnight showing of Harry Potter when it released in the US. That was this morning. I wanted to go for various reasons, including the fact that it was a cool thing to do for the last movie of such an amazing series. The girl would not be left out, so the last frontier was to convince the husband. He falls asleep at 9pm, so this took much convincing. He wanted to go on Sunday morning, our normal family movie time after an IHOP breakfast. We finally got him, after much drama.<br />
<br />
The movie was great. But the husband fell asleep for most of it.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-77623863568871957662011-06-23T22:08:00.002-04:002011-07-18T02:42:11.642-04:00All at once!Day one after middle school graduation. It's confirmed: we have a full fledged teenager. He's testing the waters. He's out with six neighborhood friends, running around the neighborhood at 10pm, not listening, not calling home, and not feeling he has to.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-10532766569729937502011-06-04T13:57:00.003-04:002011-07-18T02:22:30.681-04:00Empowered<div>Really feeling great this week. Spent time with friends celebrating a bat mitzvah. I'm feeling young and skinny(!!). Got a new dress for the occasion, and felt really great in it. Didn't even wear hose. (I know, I'm at LEAST a decade behind the trend. Nobody ever called me a fashionista.) I also felt amazing pride getting honored at the services. Really happy.</div>just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-35372481285574516042011-03-29T01:07:00.040-04:002011-07-18T02:33:15.235-04:00Wrong numbersIf you swap two of the digits of my cell phone number, you'd reach a taxi dispatch service. Which means that if you swap two digits of the taxi dispatch number, you get me.<br />
<br />
I constantly get calls from people, often drunk, often at 3am, looking for a cab. It's completely entertaining, and sometimes I even play along. Hopefully these people don't wait TOO long for their cab which will never show up. <br />
<br />
I also get a huge amount of misaddressed email. OK, it wasn't very bright of me to choose a simple username for my email address, but that's what you get when you're an early adapter. Often I get repeat emails from the same people trying to reach their friends, clients and coworkers. I'm getting to know all about their lives from their best friends or their parents. I've gotten invited to bachelorette parties and cooking parties. Bike marathons and golf outings. I've gotten real estate contracts and business proposals. Makes me wonder if these people have been getting stuff from MY contacts.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-13845294561186308952011-03-13T20:21:00.003-04:002011-03-13T21:50:23.485-04:00For for my friend D.<p>We've kept in touch, off and on, for 18 years. That's a long time to know someone. I called him D., or Bud, or Dude. He called me Rox, or Babe, or Kid. We had a long history, me and D. We competed against each other in an Othello tournament in 1993, and he's one of the few people who could beat me at that game. We've been buds ever since.</p><p>D. was charming and funny and smart, and year after year, he has always made me smile. He loved his Broncos, and the Avalanche... all Denver sports, actually. He was thrilled whenever the Broncos would play my team, the Bills... the teasing seemed endless. He loved his cheerleaders and his lady friends, too... he was a true flirt at heart.</p><p>D. was a friend to me through-and-through. He always checked up on me at big milestones and remembered my birthday. He often talked about wanting to visit Broadway and see a few shows, but he never was able to make it to the east coast. Visiting D. has ALWAYS been tops on my wish list of things to do in my life, but I never found a primary reason to go to Colorado Springs. Somehow, I had convinced myself that I could only visit him once I had some other reason to be near Denver.</p><p>No matter what, D. was a rock for me. We often had long talks late at night over the past 18 years. Whether on TSN, INN, e-mail, IM, Google Chat, Facebook... we always found a way. We talked about computers, and technology, and our jobs. We talked about family, and friends, and good times. He patiently listened to my selfish whining about life's little problems, and was always there for either a supportive word, or a wisecrack to set me straight. Rarely did he tell me about any of his own issues. Once in a while he would make a comment about his wheelchair, but usually just to let me know about its cool new features.</p><p>D. had osteogenesis imperfecta (brittle bone disease). He was a dwarf, I don't think even three feet tall. He never walked a day in the 48+ years of his life. Even so, he never complained, was ever in good spirits, held his head high, and always reminded me of what was important. When he passed away last Friday, I learned that D. was unquestionably the exact same rock for so many others, as evidenced by the unending tributes on his Facebook page. He was a role model, an inspiration, a teaser, a friend.</p><p>There are many lessons be learned from my selfless buddy D. Don't sweat the meaningless things - the small stuff. Laugh at yourself. Life's too short not to enjoy it. Take hold of your life, hold your head high, and do what makes you happy while you have the chance. </p><p>I'll miss the best friend I never met.</p>just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-63867918538025439892011-03-03T11:29:00.002-05:002011-07-18T02:18:09.894-04:00How can we be up to high school?The boy had high school orientation this week. <br />
<br />
Speechless. <br />
<br />
Seriously speechless.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-73370467356546205502011-01-21T08:42:00.000-05:002011-01-21T08:42:55.201-05:00Top ten signs that your baby has become a teenager.<ol><li><b>Cleanliness</b>. He takes a shower every other day. Sometimes every day. Always had to BEG him to take a shower after the grime and grease had been piled on for weeks. Now? He's often cleaner than me. And he even uses the hairdryer.</li>
<li><strong>Privacy</strong>. Door's closed when he's in his room. Always. Gets upset when I don't knock. </li>
<li><strong>Modesty</strong>. Can't see his underwear or laundry or anything. </li>
<li><strong>Phone use</strong>. Constantly on the phone.</li>
<li><strong>Sarcasm/Rudeness</strong>. Makes fun of his sister. Lots of DUHs and STUPIDs and the like.</li>
<li><strong>Stubbornness</strong>. Won't let me help. OK, he was always like that.</li>
<li><b>Vanity</b>. OMG he looks in the mirror. He checks out his hair. He smooths it out like he's the Fonz. What's up with that? </li>
<li><b>Laziness</b>. Doesn't want to help. Would rather just sit and veg. </li>
<li><b>Sleeps late</b>. Likes to sleep in. Later than ever before. </li>
<li><b>Eats all the time.</b> Food food food, snacking, junk, everything.</li>
</ol>But: you done good if he still wants to snuggle with you, and spend time with you in general. So yes, my kid is now a teenager. Yes, he's growing up. And yes, he's still my amazing baby boy, so I'm fine with that.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-29538590362144833152011-01-20T07:07:00.003-05:002011-07-18T02:15:53.114-04:00Just a thoughtSometimes, the right thing to do IS to change the world.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-78088428593407197192011-01-12T00:37:00.004-05:002011-07-18T02:14:28.957-04:00Hmm.I have no delusions whatsoever about this blog. I do not expect that there's anyone reading it, and I certainly do not expect that there's anyone commenting on it.<br />
<br />
Does that mean I'm talking to myself? Sigh.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-56655906565733735922011-01-10T05:32:00.004-05:002011-07-18T02:11:10.133-04:00We knew this was coming...That girl, she's always been quite the charmer. And she's always loved her boys.<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong... the boy has always loved his girls too. His best buds in preschool were two girls. He hung out with girls all through elementary school. He was the only boy invited to girl slumber parties... and we let him go. Even to one that was two hours away.<br />
<br />
But the boy didn't invite any girls to his bar mitzvah. The boy never really had much of an interest in LIKING girls. (Well, until now, which is fine now that he's a teenager.)<br />
<br />
It's the girl. We knew she'd be trouble from day one. She had her heart broken in kindergarten when the boys stopped liking girls. She was miserable when the boys stopped talking to her.<br />
<br />
And now she has multiple boys who like her. Not sure what that means, but she loves it. Reminder: she is TEN.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-38046822276660397002011-01-10T05:24:00.005-05:002011-01-11T23:55:52.718-05:00Who says I'm normal?MY Wii SAYS I'M NORMAL, THAT'S WHO!!! YEAH!<br />
<br />
Yes, this weekend, <a href="http://logicalblather.blogspot.com/2008/12/wii-for-me.html">my Wii Fit</a> told me that I'm in a normal weight range. After all the insults from that thing, I'm psyched to have beaten it. It took a while, but I took my time and the weight is staying off this time. I'm also liking the fact that that my Mii is looking pretty good lately. Still have <a href="http://logicalblather.blogspot.com/2010/07/gunning-for-beard.html">my goal</a> in mind, though... will still take months but it's getting closer...just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-67509741786037728432011-01-07T00:06:00.005-05:002011-07-18T02:12:49.202-04:00New Year's resolutions, part deux.Resolutions are notoriously useless. What's the point of making a resolution if you don't do it? All the best intentions, just sitting there never getting done. I'm talking to you, <a href="http://logicalblather.blogspot.com/2009/01/resolution-accumulation.html">resolutions from January 2009.</a> <br />
<br />
Or maybe not! I actually didn't do TOO badly. <br />
<ol><li>I haven't blogged very often. Certainly not twice a week. So here I am back blogging. And I still love it. And it still helps with remembering the good things. And reading old blogs still makes me smile. So I still want to do it. Just need to be realistic about it.</li>
<li>Slowly and softly? Yeah, not so much. Still issues with that one. </li>
<li>The bus! I've got this one down! I usually get the girl on the bus these days, and never miss it. How proud am I?!? Yay!</li>
<li>The procrastination. I actually have been working on this one. Not too bad but I've made some progress, I think.</li>
</ol><div></div><br />
I don't usually keep any resolutions I make. <a href="http://logicalblather.blogspot.com/2009/01/basement-treasures.html">Even when they are great ideas and I use the word "hereby."</a><br />
<br />
So. Resolutions should be <em>actionable</em> and <em>measurable</em>. Goals for life, just like goals for work. So am I making life into work? Maybe. But the only way you can achieve goals is if there are actions and if you can measure them. I don't have a decibal meter so I'm cutting that resolution, but I'll still try to work on it for the sake of everyone else.<br />
<br />
So here are my goals for 2011. <br />
<ol><li>Return to the blogging. Once a month will be fine. Seriously. I just have to remember to start random posts throughout the month in order to remember what I want to blog about, and then post them when I have time. </li>
<li>Smile more often. Just 'cause. </li>
<li>Say no more often. Even if is not well received. I need to not care. It will be even better when following resolution #2 at the same time.</li>
</ol>Yeah, even after I say I have to make goals measurable, two out of three are not. But realistically, I'm not going to write down whenever I'm smiling or saying no to keep track of how much I'm improving on it. Sigh.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-67253261360591348622011-01-07T00:02:00.017-05:002011-01-12T00:34:10.344-05:00No, it's not me.The boy is a teenager. He's getting older, his voice is changing, and he is as well. Apparently he now sounds exactly like me. And it's not just that people ask me if they can talk to my mom when I answer the phone. Which has happened most of my adult life. But come to think of it, that hasn't happened in a while, so maybe my voice is changing too.<br />
<br />
People think he's me when HE answers the phone. Everyone does. The mom. The friends. Even the husband. The kid loves it... he pretends he's me and listens either until he gets some info that he didn't know... or he gets bored. Freaks out most people. I had to tell the mom that she should ask some questions about trips we took when I was a kid... things the boy would never know... just to have a challenge-response confirmation before she actually started in conversation with me.<br />
<br />
Today, I called the boy's <a href="http://logicalblather.blogspot.com/2009/01/your-socks-are-ringing.html">cell phone</a> to ask him something, and got his message.<br />
<br />
Freaked me out... I heard myself talking but didn't remember making that message. Of course, it wasn't me.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-11257298695431383572011-01-06T23:35:00.000-05:002011-01-11T23:36:09.061-05:00Best night of tennis, ever.I started taking tennis lessons over the summer. I'm really not very good. Actually, not good at all. I'd say I'm there for entertainment value for the tennis instructors.<br />
<br />
I've never been good at sports. That includes all kinds: team sports, individual sports, recreational sports. I took ballet in preschool, and I seriously think that's all I ever did. Well, other than downhill skiing, which counts as a sport, but for me was always more of a social activity.<br />
<br />
I'm enjoying tennis now, though. It's exercise, and eventually I might be able to graduate to advanced beginner. I'll give myself two years. The rest of my beginner class already moved up... but I have no such delusions.<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">My mom got me a new tennis racquet for Chanukah. I love it... Somehow it made me a better tennis player. The tennis instructor asked me if I went to the islands over winter break and got lessons. I told him that I of course wouldn't cheat on him. But seriously: it must be the racquet. I'm not doing anything differently. I somehow am just able to hit the ball now. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Doesn't stop me from staying in the beginner class, though. </div>just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-85516323678205873272010-12-21T08:43:00.010-05:002011-07-18T02:03:43.866-04:00EclipsedI watched the moon turn red behind the earth's shadow last night. Stayed up until 3:40 am. First solstice lunar eclipse since... 1638 or so. Not like it's much different than any other lunar eclipse, but still cool.<br />
<br />
I promised the kids I'd wake them up. They groaned when I whispered to them that it was 3:20 am. They plodded downstairs, looked up, grunted, and went back to bed. Sigh.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-70928251291929798612010-12-14T22:59:00.000-05:002011-07-18T02:02:05.320-04:00Beep beep.The sound of the boy's cell phone, beeping in his own voice, alerting him that he has a new text waiting.<br />
<br />
Beep beep.<br />
<br />
All day long, every day. My son is suddenly popular.<br />
<br />
The girl got a cell phone this year for Chanukah too. <a href="http://logicalblather.blogspot.com/2009/01/your-socks-are-ringing.html">Remembering when the boy got his</a>. We just turned on his texting this year.<br />
<br />
And now the girl has a boy that "wants to go out with her". I'm not sure to do with this information. She is ten, and she's my baby. I'm not sure she knows what to do with this information either.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-73661628940876993982010-09-06T20:19:00.002-04:002010-09-06T20:50:01.874-04:00Drafting menuFFL draft was yesterday. We hosted again this year. Almost every family was there - fun. I LOVED everything on our menu. All my faves.<br />
<div><ol><li>Salsa (of course), guacamole and chips</li>
<li>packaged white bean dip and chiptole bean dip with pretzel chips and carrots (the only thing I didn't make!)</li>
<li>fresh ricotta bruscetta with honey and tomatoes</li>
<li>beef nachos with cheese and tomatoes</li>
<li>bobby's corn salad with tomatoes, onions, blue cheese and basil dressing</li>
<li>RIBS with the best rub and sauce ever (have to remember to cook longer!!)</li>
<li>thai beef salad - yum</li>
<li>vietnamese summer rolls with shrimp and pork - yum</li>
<li>burgers with homemade pickles, hot dogs</li>
<li>corn on the cob</li>
<li>pear brie and chicken paninis - yum</li>
<li>shrimp and pork dumplings with two different dipping sauces</li>
<li>s'mores candy</li>
</ol><div>somehow the camera was set to black and white but still looks good ... will post photos eventually</div></div>just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-23661168418005517192010-08-09T23:25:00.000-04:002010-08-09T23:25:58.692-04:00Apps for the phone I don't have.Bought a droid. Yay!<br />
Finally! I'm completely last on technology. The funny part is that people think I'm a techie. People ask me techie questions. People look to me as a tech reference. Not sure why. They are way ahead of me.<br />
<br />
Now I'm waiting weeks for my new toy to arrive, as it's on backorder. Because as usual, I'm last.<br />
<br />
So in the meantime, I'm looking for which apps I should load onto the thing, once I get it. I was going to write up a list of them, but so many others have already done that, so we'll go with everyone else's lists. The one benefit of being last.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.pcworld.com/article/201244/verizons_droid_x_12_apps_to_get_you_started.html">http://www.pcworld.com/article/201244/verizons_droid_x_12_apps_to_get_you_started.html</a><br />
<a href="http://www.pcworld.com/article/181630/verizons_droid_10_apps_to_get_you_started.html">http://www.pcworld.com/article/181630/verizons_droid_10_apps_to_get_you_started.html</a><br />
<a href="http://www.digitaltrends.com/mobile/best-droid-apps/">http://www.digitaltrends.com/mobile/best-droid-apps/</a><br />
<a href="http://101bestandroidapps.com/">http://101bestandroidapps.com/</a><br />
<a href="http://www.wirelessandmobilenews.com/2010/01/top-ten-best-coolest-free-apps-for-android-an-droid-review-of-reviews.html">http://www.wirelessandmobilenews.com/2010/01/top-ten-best-coolest-free-apps-for-android-an-droid-review-of-reviews.html</a>just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-71551623789286607642010-08-09T18:59:00.002-04:002011-01-10T05:41:20.578-05:00Real job, schmeal job10-yo-daughter: Mom, why did you choose an office job?<br />
<br />
Me: What do you mean?<br />
<br />
10-yo-daughter: Well, you could have picked anything. Like a fireman or a teacher.<br />
<br />
Me: You're right, but I chose something I went to school for... subjects I was interested in. And that led me to an office job.<br />
<br />
10-yo-daughter: But an office job is not a REAL job.<br />
<br />
Me: Why not?<br />
<br />
10-yo-daughter: Because no kid says, "When I grow up, I want to work behind a desk in an office."<br />
<br />
Me: I guess they don't.<br />
<br />
10-yo-daughter: They all want to be something, like a doctor or an artist or a policeman. Didn't you want to BE something when you were a kid?<br />
<br />
Sigh.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-89956311796135721942010-08-09T18:52:00.000-04:002010-08-09T18:52:47.053-04:00Fresh water for all<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">We have a water cooler in our house. Love it... love the instant availability of super-cold and super-hot water, anytime. Tap water around here is actually pretty good, but we still like the taste of the bottled water better. </span></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">My question is: if you have a similar situation, with two huge jugs of water showing up on your doorstep every other week or so, would you use that water to fill the dog bowl? I mean, seriously? The husband claims, "If it's good enough for us, then it's good enough for the dog, too." I think he means, "If the tap water is not good enough for us, then it's not good enough for the dog, either." I respectfully disagree. Granted, the dog is a senior citizen and is pretty picky, but I'm pretty sure that she wouldn't mind the tap water over the bottled. I don't hear her howling, "Deer Park, that's good water!"</span></span></div>just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-89681762325142268172010-07-10T21:01:00.000-04:002010-07-10T21:01:55.398-04:00Gunning for the beardThe husband didn't always have a beard. The first appearance came when I was pregnant with the boy. It gradually grew in over the months, and the husband enjoyed taking off the time from shaving. I'm not really sure what made him give up on razors. I never was a fan of the scratchy, prickly facial hair - It didn't look bad at all, but it's thick and rough, and it's never been my thing. The husband seemed to like it, so I tolerated it. Only because...<br />
<br />
The husband promised he'd shave it while I was in the hospital. And so he did. It actually became entertainment while I was in labor. In between contractions, he went into the bathroom and shaved off a little more. He came out of the bathroom each time, and it made me laugh. It was fun, and eventually I had my clean-shaven husband back.<br />
<br />
A couple of years later, I became pregnant with the girl. And... the beard gradually came back. I hadn't missed it. I started looking forward to the hospital shaving session again. But the way things go, I ended up going in for a scheduled c-section. No labor. No time to shave. No shaving session. Flash-forward ten-and-a-half years, and: the beard is still around. We just celebrated the boy's bar mitzvah, and the beard was in every photo.<br />
<br />
Early on, after the girl was born, the husband and I made a bet. I had never lost the baby weight. The deal is: If I make it back down to my wedding weight, the beard gets shaved. I have never really been able to do it though. Until now. I'm headed in the right direction, anyway.<br />
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Looks like I'm losing a pound a month, or so. Slow but sure wins the race. I hope. At this rate, I may be at the wedding weight long before the girl's bat mitzvah. Works for me! The husband may very well be looking very different at that party. Looking forward to it!just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-47499247873219429632010-07-03T23:36:00.002-04:002010-07-18T10:45:59.306-04:00Cooking for strangersWell, not really strangers... just people I haven't seen in 25 years. Heading to a 4th of July BBQ. Happy Independence!<br />
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I LOVE cooking for other people. I am not always good at it, mostly because of my lack of attention span at just the right moment: I often burn things or otherwise ruin them. But I still try. I should cook fun things for my own fam, but I just don't bother when it's "just us". I need to have a party (or go to someone else's party) for the excuse. I think I'm pissing off my friend who is hosting this BBQ; she may be afraid I'm showing her up.<br />
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Here's everything that the husband and I have been preparing this long holiday weekend, whether for the July 4th reunion, or for local friends.<br />
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<b>Baby arugala salad with warm pancetta vinaigrette and spiced pine nuts</b>. Recipe credit to the cooking class I took my mom to last week for her (early) bday.<br />
<blockquote>The nuts are accidentally too spicy. I like them that way (they have a great kick) but I hope others don't have an issue.</blockquote><b>Scallops with candied fennel and vanilla-citrus reduction</b>. Recipe credit to one of my favorite places in the entire world that I am glad to have been to once.<br />
<blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVF1y6sDU50UR9kIrkL-fnAdRTFW34EkkFlGQ8EGBCRUkTqFK0JPi4W5CSwQk910FZLS8z-4B-aP2K4rC-gmAFma2kESNm0WaWjSsXTUC0FYLcR2xz6QFSHFRhKiSSFypm2yUHjhq8khIy/s1600/IMG_0686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVF1y6sDU50UR9kIrkL-fnAdRTFW34EkkFlGQ8EGBCRUkTqFK0JPi4W5CSwQk910FZLS8z-4B-aP2K4rC-gmAFma2kESNm0WaWjSsXTUC0FYLcR2xz6QFSHFRhKiSSFypm2yUHjhq8khIy/s200/IMG_0686.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>I know, I know. You're thinking: WTF? This is a 4th of July BBQ, not a gourmet meal. Where are the hot dogs and burgers and ribs and corn and potato salads and watermelon? Yeah, I'll leave that to my friend the hostess. Don't worry about her, though: she holds her ground. She'll be making her own assortment of kick-ass food in addition to the standard picnic fare.</blockquote><blockquote>You are probably still confused, wondering how I'll serve this at a BBQ. I haven't quite figured that out yet, but it likely will involve tasting spoons. Meh.</blockquote><a href="http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/honey-tomato-bruschetta-with-ricotta"><b>Honey-tomato bruschetta with fresh ricotta</b></a> (yes I made the <a href="http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Fresh-Homemade-Ricotta-234282">ricotta</a> too)<br />
<blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj90ifjPGvV7odTNundzMhr4IHD_Wn9ohYlAWkXJQ8rkAvsQz13Yoh6-4m3xnD7CK2FmJpXU0NURWde3NdQXou5Mg47kuj67vpx2quMPY8JRAnaT818_91eqtLjdSe3WGLd-Y2LhRvrcM0I/s1600/IMG_0685.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj90ifjPGvV7odTNundzMhr4IHD_Wn9ohYlAWkXJQ8rkAvsQz13Yoh6-4m3xnD7CK2FmJpXU0NURWde3NdQXou5Mg47kuj67vpx2quMPY8JRAnaT818_91eqtLjdSe3WGLd-Y2LhRvrcM0I/s200/IMG_0685.JPG" width="133" /></a></div>Another pause from the menu to say one quick note: <b>OMG</b>, don't ever buy ricotta from the store again!!!! <b>Seriously</b>. Easy to make and yummy. And I didn't even have lemons to curdle the milk, so I used a lime instead. Yum!</blockquote><br />
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<b>Kobe sliders with </b><b><a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/pesto-recipe2/index.html">pesto</a> on potato rolls</b>. The husband made up this combo - he's also making alfredo sauce for it as an alternative choice.<br />
<blockquote>The alfredo sauce on Kobe burgers was NOT my idea. Neither was the pesto - but it was pretty good on the test sliders. </blockquote><b><br />
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<b>Dill pickles.</b><br />
<blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiJXa_y4ImRdY9A12iYJkb-WIvJ9g6qdQ4PIWaru2vRk_12G0QKlK9_mzNSg7IRH098SqOonH1Nda2fcleMuIgWUyM2kxLQytog13NA6C40UG5P4gogIrXrLYunEihzDaYNwjMr-O7ldQI/s1600/pickles.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiJXa_y4ImRdY9A12iYJkb-WIvJ9g6qdQ4PIWaru2vRk_12G0QKlK9_mzNSg7IRH098SqOonH1Nda2fcleMuIgWUyM2kxLQytog13NA6C40UG5P4gogIrXrLYunEihzDaYNwjMr-O7ldQI/s200/pickles.JPG" width="133" /></a></div>Yeah, just pickles. Don't laugh. Homemade pickles are GREAT! And go well on the sliders (without the alfredo sauce, anyway!!)</blockquote><br />
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<b>Mini pulled pork sandwiches on homemade potato rolls.</b><br />
<blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF8HHHRpJoWz3CGkvnw8twxQFjnac7GZB_c5BW0fz0OQdiXkUke27QhQRN3V6asD2zT0rIWXIuzzaCA_aiflad1JDqBVRLR-fpRKJGIeMFSVqznLhaNH18gOsRTh8eFbgmreYU7QSjGYgf/s1600/IMG_0682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF8HHHRpJoWz3CGkvnw8twxQFjnac7GZB_c5BW0fz0OQdiXkUke27QhQRN3V6asD2zT0rIWXIuzzaCA_aiflad1JDqBVRLR-fpRKJGIeMFSVqznLhaNH18gOsRTh8eFbgmreYU7QSjGYgf/s200/IMG_0682.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>"Mini" only because I screwed up and made them too small, figuring they would actually rise more than they did. The rolls were intended for the kobe burgers but I'm not going to make a whole nother batch in a larger size.</blockquote><br />
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I think that is it. Everything else is boring. Can't wait to eat it all.<br />
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Lesson: Never buy ricotta cheese again. Duh.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-28593377060026209722010-06-25T00:50:00.001-04:002011-01-11T23:40:25.982-05:00What the heck is a clap-out and why don't we have one?Just saw someone on Facebook post photos of their daughter's "clap-out" at elementary school. Excuse me? What's a clap-out? I imagined all the kids walking out of elementary school and everyone clapping on their way out.<br />
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So I Googled it, and I was right. The oldest grade parades out of school on their last day and everyone applauds. I read about moms breaking down at their kids' clap-out. I read about moms THINKING about their kids' clap-out and breaking down. And I suddenly got emotional too. <br />
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I cannot believe that we are done with elementary school. Yeah yeah, I only have two kids, but it's gone by so fast. There's no graduation in our school district... no pomp and circumstance, no caps and gowns, no moving up day to the middle school for outgoing fourth graders last week. I suddenly found myself desperately wanting a clap-out, to celebrate my beautiful daughter's accomplishments. I love graduations. I'd cry even if it was the graduation of people I didn't know.<br />
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Of course, I'm still proud of the girl. She has a great head on her shoulders. She's confident, smart, funny and a loyal friend. To me, and to her brother, to the husband, to her friends and to everyone. My graduation gift to her? I will regret this for the next, um, forever, but it was her very own Facebook account. A mistake? Probably. I have panic attacks about it constantly. But she's thrilled: It makes her feel grown up for some reason, and she earned it. I'm so happy for her.<br />
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But I'll be pissed if I find out that the school district starts doing clap-outs for the fourth graders next year.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437583601614774950.post-84699655540995784292010-04-25T12:08:00.002-04:002011-01-10T05:41:00.641-05:00An uphill battleLost 20 lbs so far!<br />
Yeah!<br />
That was purely from diet change. <br />
Now, I've plateaued.<br />
Have to start going to the gym regularly. <br />
Sigh.<br />
The question is, join the ultra-hip, very popular gym in town, with the state-of-the-art equipment, plethora of group classes, pool, personal trainers, weigh-ins, people from town that I don't want watching me, crazy-high initiation fee, and ridiculous monthly fee,<br />
or,<br />
Use the gym at work, which is conveniently just beneath my office, with people I work with that I don't want watching me, no initiation fee, and free.<br />
Which am I more likely to keep up?<br />
I won three personal training sessions at the really nice gym, and have been going every week. Now it's over. Have to figure out what to do.just mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11048507014404530021noreply@blogger.com2