Wednesday, January 23, 2008


We made them! And they were...Not Bad!

Here's what they looked like before the sun came up:

Here's what they looked like while they were boiling, also before the sun came up:

Here's a picture of the tree outside my kitchen window with no sun peeking out behind it because guess what? The fucking sun STILL wasn't up!

And here's what they looked like right before we ate them:

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Like I said: Not Bad. Not delicious either, but it was a noble effort. Eventually the sun did come up and I was able to coax everyone out of bed with the lure of delicious bagels but I have to admit that the best part of this whole project might have been the hour or so that I got to myself, drinking coffee and boiling bagels, before anyone else was awake.


Monday, January 21, 2008

Recap madness!

So, about that whole Christmas thing....

We finally took the tree out of the house today--poor bastard was starting to lose its needles so we took pity on it--and I took a moment to look back at the month of hell most people call "December" and--and this is not news, mind you, I've been highly aware of this for, oh, the last 7 years or so--realized that all the pain and anger? All my fault.

I love being a parent! It's so much fun! How come nobody ever tells you that the sound of your own voice repeating the same simple phrases over and over and over and over again will make you nauseous and the thought of having to sit calmly and discipline a four year old in the middle of the parking lot at the grocery store will send you out in hives?


It's not like I didn't already know that all the bad things my kids do are a direct result of my parenting, or lack thereof, it's just that it sucks so bad to feel like a failure all the time that it's tempting to just blame them for their actions and the way they make me feel.

Phew! That feels good. Who needs a shrink when you can just send your angst out into the ether of teh internets?

On a lighter note: Bagels! We made some! If they don't look like ass tomorrow when we cook them I might take pictures! Or might not! You'll have to wait and see! And when I say "you", I mean "my mom".

(Hi mom!)

The kids had a good time shaping them...the bagels themselves? not so much. Hopefully the bread will forgive us our transgressions and cook up all lovely and gorgeous in the morning. I used the recipe from The Fresh Loaf's site, but I didn't use the final 1/4 cup of flour before kneading the dough. The mixer was having a hell of a time as it was and Kelsey decided that it looked ok. If they don't turn out, it's his fault.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008


So, about that run to Bevmo yesterday morning...I picked up some things we were out of (Junipero gin, Lillet Blanc) and some things we were almost out of (St. Germain) in addition to something new.

Creme de violette, baby!

That's right, we had purple drinks last night because if there's anything sexier than Bevmo in the morning it's drinking liquid Chowards at night. Yum.

I jest.

Actually, the creme de violette was really pretty cool. Yes, it's purple and yes, straight up it does sort of taste like your Grandmother's underwear drawer, but once mixed in something like, say, the Attention, you have strange feelings of wanting to tip a little sip on the curb in her memory. Which you would never actually do because it's such a lovely cocktail.

The recipe Kelsey used for the Attention cocktail was somewhere between the one from cocktaildb and the one in an old copy of Imbibe magazine we have laying around the house. We were going to have Aviations, but I am lame and didn't manage to pick up the maraschino. Because I am lame. More on that later, I'm sure.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

I'm developing a new kind of dog. I'll call it a Booze hound

You know, it's really, really hard to not feel like an alcoholic when you're buying over a hundred dollars of liquor at Bevmo at ten o'clock in the morning, but when you get home and find that there's really no room in your liquor cabinet for your admittedly mostly top shelf although ultimately tragically alcoholic hooch, all attempts at staving off that feeling flee in embarrassment.

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Having said that, I'm sure looking forward to tying one on tonight!

Monday, January 14, 2008

stabby rip stab stab

There have been so many things I've wanted to say lately and I haven't had the time to write any of them down. These fleeting thoughts land on the tips of my hair and before they've had an opportunity to tip-toe up my hair and into my scalp (from where, they would then travel into my brain--isn't this how everyone's ideas work?) they're gone. They're like fucking Kobayashi. I have Kobayashi thoughts.

And dude, I have short hair.

So instead of any well thought out posts on anything meaningful or relevant an update will have to suffice. An update that will also hopefully serve as a reminder to the myself 11 months from now when Christmas is around the corner that I have sworn not to participate in Christmas this year.

That's right! Christmas is canceled!

Why didn't I think of this before? Why has it taken me so many years to figure out that if we leave the area (perhaps country) for Christmas we're totally off the hook? I mean, right? Will we have to send notes to family informing them that their kids will receive nothing from us this year because we've spent all of our Christmas money on a beach front hotel room and also to please not send us anything because my holy GOD the shit we've got already could keep an entire nation of third world kids in toys for eternity. As it is we just send the crap down to our local hospice shop or Salvation Army and pretend that we've done something good. And yes, all of our toys from China went into the trash instead of the donations pile because if we need anything, it's more lead in our landfills.

I don't know what happened this year. Christmas has been stressful in the past but it's usually because of Something Else, like cooking for Kelsey's family for the first time or having to coordinate too many outings to different family members houses or morning sickness. This year our responsibilities were light. Sure, we cooked dinner on Christmas Eve--and it was fucking delicious--but it was simple and low-key. On Christmas we were at my folks house where our responsibilities begin and end with deciding how much to drink and also if The Court Jester is really appropriate for the billionth time (answer after 3 glasses of wine: yes.). It was the kids. The kids ruined Christmas for me, and I'm pretty sure just saying that makes me the worst parent this side of Britney. They regressed so radically for the three weeks leading up to Christmas that I found myself thinking, "if I shave my head and flash my snatch in public and then hide a gun in my bathroom, will they hospitalize me? Just for, like, a couple days? Just long enough to get through Christmas?"

But does that mean that I'd have to talk to Dr. Phil? Cause that would be a deal breaker.