I’ve reconsidered my last post. While I still have Teh Rage, I’m actually not okay with a bat in my mouth – even though I would totally spit the head out, pretty much immediately. It would be gross and bloody and probably give me rabies. I don’t want rabies.
A CHOCOLATE bat however…
Here are some words I never thought I would say on my own behalf: I can totally relate to Ozzy Osbourne. If I had a bat in my hand RIGHT NOW, I would totally bite its head off. YARGH.
Bloody Mary or Cold Soup?
I recently met up with a couple of friends from undergrad, for a delicious brunch. One of them possesses an amazing ability to seek and find amazing little places with some sort of unique feature – grape soda on tap, bacon toffee, amazing wine from a small island off Greece. Pretty much anytime the foodie wunderkind suggests a place it’s prudent to get on board and this time was no exception. We WALKED RIGHT IN to a table at this nice little establishment at 10am on a weekend. Not usually a good sign, but I have that much confidence in her abilities to view it as another bonus about this joint.
The main draw of the locale was that they offer a number* of variations on both the Bloody Mary and the mimosa, which you can order individually – in two sizes – or as flights. While we were hanging out and discussing our lives and our blogs, I was already debating what bits of our time to include in mine in my head…perchance something about it being “a morning of sparkles” – in our conversations, in our eyes, and in our mimosas. Our many, many mimosas. Unfortunately, as I’ve been working on the rehash I can’t seem to get beyond how the hell to make “Bloody Mary” plural.
While Southwest does advertise that “bags fly free,” their promise stops there – shy of “and on the same flight” or even “and on the same day!” This is for a reason.
Relative to other airlines, I found it necessary to get “firmer” with Southwest to “resolve” my baggage issue.
According to Southwest baggage minions, around 50% of their misplaced luggage involves an airport I often use.
If checking two bags, it is inevitable that the one with shoes and presents (that you don’t need for two days) will get through immediately, while the one with wine and clean underoos will be lost for a couple of days. Inevitable.
Continue reading ‘Reflections on Christmas Present (Abridged)’
My friend Pie is in town for the holidays, which means that we got to reunite for some business…where “business” means mini ice cream/gelato crawl. We didn’t get started until almost 8pm due to things like work (me) and the family car shuffle-dance (her). Once you factor in that we are pretty much in the Siberia of North America and it is hard to get frozen goodness in the tundra after 10pm on a weeknight, the fact that we made it three stops becomes downright impressive.
As with pretty much everything, I felt the need to photodocument our adventure for posterity and for facebook. Photodocumenting is fun, harmless, and provides fodder for people to look at during their work days or while having a little break from excessive family time (FT). Ice cream is wholesome family fun, so it seemed like a particularly good one topic – no worries as to what might pop up next on the computer screen if G-ma is sulking around in the background. Um, except one place we went apparently has an (unposted) “No “Photography” policy. Yeah.
This top-secret place is neither fancy nor restricts entry – in fact, it’s a grocery store. Continue reading ‘No Photos.’
Crock pots are great; I am of the mindset that pretty much anything can be crocked and view converting the preparation of edibles* not traditionally crocked as a personal challenge. I love bacon and I love crocking; it seemed kismet to combine the two. I would claim that the Baby Jesus wanted me to try it, but that whole Jew-Pork thing would make that statement pretty unbelievable. Whatever, *I* wanted me to try it.
If you don’t already know about crocking (sacrilege!) “crock pot” is technically a brand name,** with the generic term being “slow cooker” – it’s a self-defining term. I was going to slow cook bacon, sort of like the pig-on-a-spit deal, but just a little bit of the pig and sans a spit. I was a little reluctant to put the bacon directly in my ceramic crock insert, because of both the grease/stick factor and also it seemed like a potentially excessive time for bacon to hang out in its own waste. I view crocking as closer to baking bacon than frying it and typically use a broiler pan when baking it. Ergo, I fashioned a rack of sorts from tinfoil. I’m craftacular and thought outside the crock.
dribs and drabs 