Sometimes, I am made of awesome

QUITE LIKE THESE COOKIES:

OMG they were amazing. I've been more-than-is-healthy obsessed with Smitten Kitchen for the past few days. Her argument about how 97% of things are better homemade than what you pay $4.00 for at Starbucks or Mrs. Fields is absolutely true. Splittin' 'em with The Blonde, and bringin some to work tomorrow before flyin' up to Portland for The Big's wedding.

Yes. Of course I'm going to hit Powell's Books. Don't ask stupid questions.

Wait...what?

The Cast: The Mav, The Blonde, and I

The Situation: Working on resumes

Topic: Where the HELL in Turkey has The Blonde been (like Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego, without the two-bit music)

So The Blonde is trying to remember the name of the island in Turkey she went on her cruise in case she is asked for specifics in her interview. We thought we had figured out the mystery when she exclaims in satisfaction, "WAIT, I REMEMBER! It was the one with ALL THE RUINS"

The one with all the ruins eh? The island with all the ruins in the Mediterranean Sea.

Oh. Of course. I know that one.

On Friendship...and Lemons

I offer the following quotation as an insight into my relationship with certain of my friends:

"What ho!" I said.
"What ho!" said Motty.
"What ho! What ho!"
"What ho! What ho! What ho!"
After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation."

- P.G. Wodehouse (duh)

Indeed.

Many of the conversations I have had with certain of my friends of late border on the ridiculous. For example, after a woeful encounter with a sprayer, in which it might be said that the sprayer came away from the argument with less damage, the following chat ensued between The Blonde and myself (more or less)

The Blonde:. Please. I look like an oompaloompa. you should have seen me this morning. i scared myself.

me: are you orange with green hair?

The Blonde: i could be

me: are you 4 foot 5?

The Blonde: maybe

me: hmm in that case i don't think i can call you the situation anymore.

The Blonde: waaaaaaaait

me: im sorry. The situation cannot be 4 foot 5 with orange skin and green hair. i mean one of these symptoms maybe but all three? i dont think so.

The Blonde: hahahaha

me: id have to send you off to go work in a chocolate factory and sing silly little rhyming songs

The Blonde: theeeey scaaaaaare meeeeeee

me: exactly! So if they scare you you cannot be an oompa loompa; no one is afraid of themselves. unless they are a serial killer.

The Blonde: hahahahaha

me: and if you were a serial killer then no WAY would Morgan marry you

The Blonde: GASP

me: and since that is one of your major life goals

The Blonde: this is true

me: it can't possibly be true.

The Blonde: i like your hypothesis

me: you know what you call this? you call this irrefutable logic.

The Blonde: correct dear Watson. that is exactly what this is

me: i know it. im very smart.

The Blonde: you have deduced that I am NOT an oompa loompa and therefore i AM THE SITUATION!. WHAT UP

And now...regarding lemon rolls. I was slightly disappointed because the mother of the author of the recipe declares solemnly after tasting said rolls that "this is the best thing I have ever put in my mouth" Vast exaggeration, and if not then please allow me to introduce you to my Cinnamon Rolls.

However, they were prettttty tasty. And made good use of the meyer lemons that my friend brought me!

Zesty...and I can wait while you are oohing and aahing over my impressive shot.

...maybe it's not that impressive.

You put your ingredients in shot glasses right? No? Just me then. OKAY

Ahh...the finished product:

Recipe!!

So today, I forgot my Ipod.

No - let me rephrase. I forgot my entire music apparatus - no headphones OR iPod. Even worse, I realized I didn't have it RIGHT when I was getting on MUNI. I was filled with a curious combination of chagrin, resignation, and...horror.

Of course, I have forgotten my music before, but this was the first time I actually analyzed my feelings about it. Horror? Really? That I had forgotten music to listen to whilst working? Is that the hallmark of my generation that we have to constantly have some sort of input into our brains to distract us from matters at hand?

I, clearly, survived. It was a near thing, though, I'll tell ya.

The Blonde was training the Mav tonight, and the following conversation ensues while The Mav whimpers quietly.

"What are you writing about tonight, Fran?" says the Blonde.

"Writing about how I left my iPod at home." says I

"...Interesting..."says The Blonde, vaguely sadly and distinctly let down.

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I TRY TO SHARE PROFOUND THOUGHTS WITH YOU ALL.

The HELL Are We Gonna Do with THESE

Well.

We have had a busy night here at Chez Sweetness. I stroll out of work to discover that, unbeknownst to me, it has begun to...mist. It's not rain, it's not drizzle, it's mist - that peculiarly San Francisco fog bank that comes into town EXPRESSLY to frizz hair.

It is extremely aggravating.

At any rate, I am due in Cole Valley to meet up with the Blonde, who has elected to come up from the dredges of F.C. and gallavant about The City. But first, she is coming to visit. I decide to kill two birds with one stone and do something productive, while she primps etc. And does this:

.

I don't know what this is.

At any rate, I decide to cook the what-the-hell-are-we-gonna-do-with-these shortribs.

They shall hence forth be known simply as The Ribs.

After the travesty of the last Cal game, I had gone to BBQ in Berkeley. Spareribs are not the most tidy of meals, and I had brought the leftovers (bones) to gnaw on in the privacy of my apartment. The Mav was duly jealous, and I picked up some ribs the next time I went grocery shopping.

NEEDLESS TO SAY. I picked up shortribs by accident. NO I DON'T have a slow cooker. Or a grill. Or any BBQ sauce handy.

So I did what The Sweetness does best when it comes to cooking. "Meh - looks about right" and lots of "Whatevs - close enough"

I made this: Braised Shortribs.

And to respond to the inevitable question of whether or not I made the accompanying horseradish gremolata and pumpkin orzo...Judging from the rest of the content on this blog, what do YOU think?

I set right to work, and you know what team? Turned out pretty friggin tasty! Sure there were some hiccups...like realizing that I had not taken them out this morning to defrost:

Yes, I needed a hammer.

Or getting distracted by these:

How are these even LEGAL.

But at the end of the night, I had a pretty delicious stew with The Ribs. I can do stew. Remind me sometime to tell you about my venison stew. Pretty delicious.

Well, I could tell you. But then I would have to kill you.

Tomorrow - SYTYCD...LIVE!!!

Stay tuned.

And Now...A Word from the Blonde

What up yo? You may all know me as The Blonde - the one who hearts breaking Benjamin and the Sick Puppies. I live quite the adventurous life as a blonde, and I am here today to give you a little taste of what a day in the life of me is like: so swallow whatever you’re drinking...cause you’re about to get blonde-sided.

1) Straight Retarded (aka: Level 1 Blonde Moment or L1BM): Events that occurred when I was alone…thank God.

Example of L1BM....One day I drove past my office 3 times…. straight up, 3 times….which may not seem that bad until I tell you that my office building is BRIGHT YELLOW AND BLUE STRIPES ON THE OUTSIDE! A circus tent, if you will. Most people would notice a circus tent. Like this!

(Not Really)

2) Redic² (aka: Level 2 Blonde Moment or L2BM): These events occurred around other people, actually involved other people, and/or were said to other people.

Example of L2BM....Here are some classic lines, straight from The Blonde’s mouth

“Skrumchulecent” - meaning… the best thing ever!

“Tooth brush doing” … I couldn’t think of the phrase for brushing your teeth

“We’re gonna bump some fat tunes” meaning listening to the most epic music ever in your sick ride!

“He just got ‘blonde-sided’” (this actually has three definitions)

1) Blonde definition - When a blonde girl is talking and is distracted by a shiny object or whathaveyou.
2) My definition – When I am distracted by a Camaro or a word with too many syllables
3) Male definition - When he is distracted by an attractive blonde girl, losing his train of thought.

3) Epic Failure (aka Level 3 Blonde Moment or L3BM): Ummmm...even I think this one is self explanatory

Example of a L3BM....So everyone has their “bad” days. The car won’t start, etc. My “bad” day, was a straight FAIL. If you happened to look up the word “fail” in the dictionary, you would see my face, doing this:

Here is how it went down:

I woke up on a glorious morning, decided to make some skrumchulecent Peet’s. Who knows what happened, but I spilled all over my clothes. The entire cup. So I changed, said “F-that”, left my cup of deliciousness on the counter and decided I’d probs be better off with a lid of sorts. Perhaps a sippy cup.

I ventured out to Peets and got my triple small non-fat latte and maple oat scone. I then moseyed on to the circus. As I stepped out of my car (NO IDEA HOW THIS HAPPENED) I tipped my latte over and it spilled. Again. All. Down. My. White. Sweater.

Awesome.

So around 12, after finishing what was left of my small ass latte, I needed another caffeine fix, and I thought, you know, might be a good idea to stay away from coffee today….so I went for green tea. Healthy, full of antioxidants. Can't go wrong there, right? WRONG. As I was filling my mug with hot water, from the scalding hot water dispenser, I thought it would be smart to just place my thumb inside the mug. Why you ask? (don’t ever ask a blonde why… there is no logical explanation, it's like asking a dog why he eats his own poop… prolly because he can.

(Photography by Christine Edwards!)

So after icing my scalded thumb, I got a little hungry and remembered one of the reps brought baked goods to the office. So I ventured out into the main office area…and I walked into the table. Glasses popped off my face and landed into the box o’ muffins…. So naturally I tried to play it cool and be like, “oh hey look there’s muffins” when really I wanted to cry a little bit.. But I grabbed the first muffin I saw…which ended up being a banana nut muffin (gag me). So there I was, sitting at my desk, with a burnt thumb, wearing my white/coffee-stained sweater, and waiting to drink my "green tea tropical" because it was too damn hot. I know this why?....because I stuck my thumb in it. Right.

This would condclude my day of EPIC FAILED PROPORTIONS. A day in which all of my “smart” brain cells just said, “Toodles my noodle” and the blondeness caught up with me.