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Bookie McBooks:
Sweet Sweet Music
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It has been suggested of late that my eating habits show signs of hummingbird influence.I was once severely intimidated by a hummingbird, and believe that I have some claim to hummingbird powers in much the same way Peter Parker has spider powers. My four powers are Buzzing Loudly, Finding Sugar, Attraction to the Color Red, and Power Diving. Bzzzz. Bzzz. Sip. Sip. Yesterday, I slogged through a stupid amount of rain to pick up a present for tom and an adorable little handbag for myself. While leaving the store, I passed two mean and sticky little girls who'd been told to sit while mommy finished arguing with the manager. They'd been whining and fighting for quite some time. As I headed out the door, I paused and wrinkled my nose and stuck my tongue out at them. The older one promptly turned and hit her sister. Way to escalate the violence. If I'd turned towards them just then, I could've pulled off the perfect double clothesline. Why do cats prefer pine-fresh water when their regular bowl is satisfactory the other 50 weeks of the year? I hope Gus and Tucker don't meet the fate of poor Rumpy. But c'mon, name a cat Rumpy and you deserve bad things. I assume it came from this. There's a new cartoon here, but it's not as funny as his last one. I like the elf very much, though. I am not sleeping well these days. Very messed up dreams in addition to the standard insomnia that I was supposed to "outgrow" when I was a kid. Still waiting on that one. My candy adventures continued today with dipping gooey things in chocolate. This is even messier than you'd think, as the official methods involve spooning melted chocolate into your hand, swirling the candy around for a while, and repeating as necessary. Try turning off the stove or answering the phone when your fingers are covered with 85 degree chocolate. I went a little nuts with some of the marshmallows- covered with mint-flavored chocolate and smashed up candy canes. Mighty cute, and tasty, too. We got our christmas tree tonight. I love my ornaments, especially the horribly gaudy ones I picked out when I was three. Nothing says "christmas" like pink angels. I wanted to see if my little buddy kogepan was shilling for the current holidays, and instead I found a series of weird articles on helpful advice for women and breast size as an indication of character. Included here are ways of evaluating your life through facial birthmarks ( I should be cautious of my relatives and will be dragged into strange rumors)and a most entertaining list of drinking behavior and personality type. Now I know everything there is to know about every single one of you, you big bunch of beauty-marked drunks. Unfortunately, I could only find Kogepan on ebay. I'd add this man to my list of role models, but I'm worried he might come kick my ass. Bourdain's previous book is fantastic, and I can't wait to read his new one. If one good thing might come of the whole urban tribe thing, it may be that it finally leads to the development of a true food culture in the US that understands the value of grace over marketing. A girl can dream. Last night, I baked the best molasses cookies I've ever baked. Since I bake cookies about once a week, I'm normally immune to the lure of warm cookies, but this time I ate four in a row. Let me know if you want a hand up (the recipe) or a hand out (a cookie). I'm now reading Thompson's book on the Hell's Angels, and it's surprisingly linear. It's also reminding me of the members of the Diablos I hung with for a while in college. Um...I was going to provide a link, but they're all about indictments for drugs, murder, and racketeering. What I wanted to say was how they were a bunch of sweethearts...at least to me. In particular, I wonder about (yes) Jim Bob, a 6'7" 310lb trucker who was saving up to go to college. He hauled airplane fuel for a living, and moved off to CA to haul logs after a few months. His even-larger best friend Barney went with him. We shot pool together frequently, and I tremendously enjoyed being a 90-pound goth chick hanging with these giants. Jim Bob was the only person ever to get away with calling me "little lady". Oh, because people find it funny, I'll mention that at one point, J.Bob was seeing a woman named Sue Bob. She looked exactly the way you're picturing. My back hurts today. I didn't think that was supposed to happen anymore. Mostly, it doesn't, so I get extra whiny when it does. In an effort to distract myself, I've been reading about courtesans and stamps. I am especially pleased by the carnivorous plants and deep sea creatures. Last night, I made another batch of marshmallows. Success at last, thanks to Tom's mother's recipe. This time, the mess was from powdered sugar, rather than corn syrup.
While the majority of this article is pretty standardly annoying and pointless, the last bit has some astonishing words from our attorney general, and something like a glimmer of thought from a Georgia Republican. I'm going to go hide under the covers now, and wait for Them to come haul me away. A dilemma: I recently learned that the soup that is spelled pho, and frequently pronounced "foe", is in fact, correctly pronounced "fuh". Well. The thing is, I feel like a jackass calling it "fuh". Like walking into a bakery and requesting "qwahson" instead of "cross-ont", or "latt-eh" rather than "latt-ay". But perhaps saying "foe" is actually the equivelent of walking into said bakery and requesting "croy-sant" and "late". Hence the dilemma. I never said it was a huge dilemma, or a particularly important one. So it's not a jet pack. I want one anyway. And not just because its code name is Ginger. Is three grand too much to spend on a machine that does what you want without pushing pedals or shifting gears? I think not. This weekend, I made my first-ever batch of marshmallows. They didn't set up properly, and i achieved new levels in being covered with sticky goo. I shall be trying again later today. I suspect the amount of gelatin was the problem. Making candy is neat, although it made me realize once again that I should've taken homeEc instead of chemistry. I prefer stirring bubbly things that smell good and are edible rather than those that are stinky and toxic. |
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