doahleigh - Holy Waste of Teabags!

The other day some coworkers and I were at lunch, and we had a conversation that went approximately like this (names have been changed to protect the safety of those involved. Except not really. About the protection thing. The names really have been changed):

Tori: I heard that honey bees are dying out because of the frequency waves from our cell phones and other wireless technology.
Derek: Oh really? That’s not good.
Tori: Yeah, they say that human life will only survive seven years after the honey bees die out.
Stan: Wow that’s scary.
Shannon: Really? Because I think it would be hilarious if humans killed themselves because of their need for technology. And if it’s because of the extinction of honey bees caused by our reliance on technology, that’s even funnier! We totally deserve it. Humans are so annoying and so stupid, and we think we’re so important, but really we’re completely insignificant. Life will go on without us, and it will probably be better. We think we’re so intelligent with all our inventions and crap, but really we’re just killing ourselves. And if it’s the honey bee thing that kills us, I think that’s pretty frickin’ funny. Especially since people in third world countries will probably find a way to survive, and those of us with the technology will be the first to go. It’s our own arrogance—we deserve it.
Derek: Do you have a cell phone?
Shannon: Oh yeah, I’m totally part of the problem, I don’t deny that. Doesn’t mean we don’t deserve it.
All: Um, wow.

I really think that though. I mean it would basically suck if our crops were no longer pollinated and slowly we starved to death, and there was mass chaos and murders and pillaging for food supplies. Yeah, that sucks, I’d rather not be a part of it. But humans annoy me - I even annoy myself. Don’t we kind of deserve to cause the extinction of our own species with our stupidity?

I brought this idea home to Brad, and all he really had to say was, “The whole thing is just a scare tactic. Don’t let it get to you.”

Last weekend we finally watched Bowling for Columbine, so now I’m not sure if I really should worry about (laughing at) the bees-will-be-our-demise thing or if it’s just more American-made fear-mongering. That documentary did get me thinking about my own paranoia though. I’ve talked before about how paranoid I am and my everyone’s-a-predator mentality, and I still believe that I’m just a naturally paranoid person. But now I realize part of it is probably because I’ve always been told that everyone’s a predator. I’m not just making that up, it’s what I’ve been told to think.

So I decided to try to be less paranoid, while still being safe. I can be smart without being so fearful all the time. Last night that new theory was put to the test. Brad and I pulled into our parking lot around 8pm, and there was a strange white van parked in the middle of the lot, not in a space, and someone was sitting in the driver’s seat. We got out of the car and started walking to the door to our apartment building, and we heard the driver get out and start walking behind us. Normally I would have freaked out and hurried to the door. But with this new attitude, I thought “No, this person is fine. He just happens to be going to the same door as us.”

I had just finished the thought when Brad mumbled to me, “Walk a little faster hon.” We hurried to the door and shut it (with it’s automatic locking mechanism) behind us. Brad said he wasn’t too worried, but didn’t want to be responsible for letting a stranger in the building. If he had a legitimate reason for being there, he’d get buzzed in. But for me it was a real eye-opener. My first attempt at being a little less paranoid, and it turns out my instincts were right (or at least the same as Brad who is much more level-headed in these situations). Now I’m not really sure what I want to do: trust my instincts even if they are on major overdrive all the time, or try to learn to distinguish between what’s truly a threat and what’s only my overactive paranoia.

*Marilyn Manson in Bowling for Columbine

I stole this from Anisa. Brad is such a good sport about the way I write about him here, so I thought this might be fun. For me. Probably not you. Well, maybe. Sure it will!

1. Who is your man?
Brad
2. How long have you been together?
We’ve been dating since April 8, 2005. Almost three years.
3. How long did you date?
Oops, I guess this is only for married people. I’m doing it anyway.
4. How old is your man?
He’ll be 28 next month.
5. Who eats more?
I guess Brad does, though he is not at all like many guys who will eat anything, anywhere, anytime.
6. Who said “I love you” first?
Brad
7. Who is taller?
Brad by more than a foot. I’m 5′5″ if I stand up straight. He’s 6′6″. Yes my neck hurts.
8. Who sings better?
Definitely Brad. I’m a joke, and he’s pretty good. Also, he’s a huge hit when we go to karaoke. Yes I have videos.
9. Who is smarter?
Me! Well okay fine, we’re equally smart in different ways. I’m more studious and love learning just about anything. He’s extremely knowledgeable and intelligent about things that blow my mind.
10. Whose temper is worse?
Brad says I have a demon that comes out when I’m mad. I often hear him say, “Okay put the demon away honey.” I have the worse temper, but I can let go quickly. He holds onto things a lot longer.
11. Who does the laundry?
He does his, I do mine. A ghost does the sheets and towels.
12. Who takes out the garbage?
Brad and the ghost.
13. Who sleeps on the right side of the bed?
If this means the right side when we’re laying on our backs, then it’s Brad.
14. Who pays the bills?
I pay mine, he pays his. And suprisingly he pays the mutual bills. It seems like a job that would fall to me, but somehow it fell to him. I admit I’m glad that all I have to do each month is write him a check and not worry about due dates and papers and online accounts.
15. Who is better with the computer?
Brad by far. It’s funny because in my family, I’m pretty advanced with the computer. Then I met Brad and realized I know nothing.
16. Who mows the lawn?
The maintenance guy. Or wait, maybe they contract with an outside company. I don’t know, it’s been winter so long I don’t even remember what grass looks like.
17. Who cooks dinner?
When we do manage to cook, he’s usually the “head chef” and I’m his assistant. Occasionally I’ll try something easy on my own.
18. Who drives when you are together?
If we take his Jeep, he drives. If we take my car, I drive. Unless I don’t feel like it, then I ask him to.
19. Who pays when you go out?
We split everything right down the middle. If he uses his card to pay, I give him cash for half. If I pay, he does the same.
20. Who is most stubborn?
Oh if only you could see us. We are two of the most stubborn people I know. I honestly don’t know how we stand each other sometimes.
21. Who is the first to admit when they are wrong?
If I’m wrong, I’ll admit it. If Brad’s wrong, he tries to blame it on me anyway (right honey?). If neither of us thinks we’re wrong, we’ll argue in circles for days until we pass out.
22. Whose parents do you see the most?
Mine since we moved to GR.
23. Who kissed who first?
Brad kissed me first. Sometimes I like to make him reenact it.
24. Who asked who out?
Originally Brad asked me to hang out, but I had to turn him down because I had a boyfriend and thought that might be difficult. Later when I didn’t have a boyfriend, I reminded him about how he asked me to hang out that one time, and was he still up for it. So it’s a tie sort of.
25. Who proposed?
Brad. (kidding… ha! Did I trick anyone?)
26. Who is more sensitive?
I gotta go with Brad for this one.
27. Who has more friends?
Um, neither. I guess?
28. Who has more siblings?
I have one brother, three sisters, one half-brother, one half-sister. So six.
Brad has one half-brother, one step-brother, one half-sister, one step-sister. So four. Yay I win something!

The complete opposite of going to bed at 8:30pm is going to bed at 4 in the morning. I didn’t mean to, but my body rebelled and all of my attempts to sleep—starting at 10:00—failed. And eventually there I was at 4am watching a Ronco knives infomercial in bed with Brad. I blame it on indigestion and aging.

Speaking of aging, here are two more examples from last night of how I’m definitely getting older:

1. My hip popped quite painfully right at, shall we say, the height of a certain activity. Very distracting.

2. While watching American Idol last night and thinking about how I kind of wanted to make out with David A., I realized I’M TEN YEARS OLDER THAN HIM! I must not feel old at heart because for a moment I honestly associated myself with this kid, as if we were even in the same generation. The only male Idols I should be ogling are the four that are over 25.

You guys are all so supportive of my cooking attempts that I may just have to write about each new thing I try. I can definitely use the positive reinforcement. Last night wasn’t very exciting though: pierogies (the frozen kind) and a salad. Brad made himself mac n’ cheese because he thinks pierogies are disgusting and salad is boring.

After dinner I meant to do some much-needed catching up on homework, but instead I went to bed at 8:30. I was on the couch with Brad, watching Mythbusters (James Bond’s magnetic forcefield watch was total bullshit, it doesn’t work), and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to be asleep. Going to bed so early messes with my head though—I had bizarre dreams all night, and I woke up at 5:00 thinking I had missed my alarm. I decided to get up anyway and do something productive with that time. I did a little homework, cleaned the house, ran some errands before work.

Um, no. I didn’t. I rolled over and went back to sleep for two hours. Get up at 5? Who does that?

I mentioned that I might try to make some chili this weekend, and guess what. I did! I know, I surprised even myself. I found this simple recipe from cdkitchen’s crockpot section, cut it in half, nixed the cumin, and gave it a try. As usual, the thing that annoyed me the most was how much work goes into cooking. This is a crockpot, it’s supposed to be all fix it and forget it! But when you add the time I spent shopping for the ingredients, preparing the ingredients, fretting over the results and then cleaning up, I’m not sure it was worth the 15 minutes I actually spent eating.

Here’s my problem, and I’ve said it before: I’m not intuitive in the kitchen. Give me a straight forward recipe with NO guesswork involved, and I’ll do okay. But the second I have to think independently about anything involved in cooking, I choke. For instance, with this chili, after a couple hours it was starting to look a little dry, which didn’t seem right to me. Instead of knowing exactly what to do and just doing it, I fretted over it and bugged Brad about it endlessly. In the kitchen staring at the crockpot:

S: What should I do?
B: I don’t know.
S: Me neither.
…..
S: Should we add water?
B: I don’t know. What do you think?
S: I don’t know.
…..
B: Maybe you should call and ask your mom.
S: No she’s on vacation, I don’t want to bug her.
B: I can call my mom.
S: And tell her we’re completely incompetent at cooking?
B: Let’s look it up online.
[when that didn't help much...]
S: So what do we do?
B: I don’t know.

Eventually we added a cup of water, but we had no idea what this might do. For all we knew, it would react with another ingredient and blow up our kitchen. It turned out to be just the trick though, and I rather enjoyed our dinner. Brad, however, reminded me that he wasn’t a big fan of chili (oops!) and that when he was little, he used to put peanut butter in his to dilute the taste. First of all, what the hell? Peanut butter? Second… yeah, he put peanut butter in his second bowl of chili last night. Not a good sign.

But I liked it!

I haven’t talked much about who I’m supporting in the election, mostly because I haven’t found the words to say what I want to say. My friends and family know because it’s easier to talk about it endlessly than write it concisely in one post. I do like both Democratic candidates (and get icky feelings in the pit of my stomach from all the possible Republican candidates), but there is one who stands out for me for so many reasons. And finally I found something that says it all. I hope you’ll read it. Even if doesn’t resonate with you, I hope you’ll read it, all of it, with an open mind.

Goodbye to all that (#2) by Robin Morgan

Some of my favorite parts:

Goodbye to the sick, malicious idea that this [the examples she listed] is funny. This is not “Clinton hating,” not “Hillary hating.” This is sociopathic woman-hating. If it were about Jews, we would recognize it instantly as anti-Semitic propaganda; if about race, as KKK poison. Hell, PETA would go ballistic if such vomitous spew were directed at animals. Where is our sense of outrage—as citizens, voters, Americans?

Goodbye to some young women eager to win male approval by showing they’re not feminists (at least not the kind who actually threaten the status quo), who can’t identify with a woman candidate because she is unafraid of eeueweeeu yucky power, who fear their boyfriends might look at them funny if they say something good about her. Goodbye to women of any age again feeling unworthy, sulking “what if she’s not electable?” or “maybe it’s post-feminism and whoooosh we’re already free.” Let a statement by the magnificent Harriet Tubman stand as reply. When asked how she managed to save hundreds of enslaved African Americans via the Underground Railroad during the Civil War, she replied bitterly, “I could have saved thousands—if only I’d been able to convince them they were slaves.”

So listen to her voice: “It is a violation of human rights when babies are denied food, or drowned, or suffocated, or their spines broken, simply because they are born girls. It is a violation of human rights when woman and girls are sold into the slavery of prostitution. It is a violation of human rights when women are doused with gasoline, set on fire and burned to death because their marriage dowries are deemed too small. It is a violation of human rights when individual women are raped in their own communities and when thousands of women are subjected to rape as a tactic or prize of war. It is a violation of human rights when a leading cause of death worldwide along women ages 14 to 44 is the violence they are subjected to in their own homes. It is a violation of human rights when women are denied the right to plan their own families, and that includes being forced to have abortions or being sterilized against their will.”

I’m upset that Michigan broke the rules, and I wasn’t able to express my support for her in the primary. But I really hope I have to opportunity to support her in the general election.

In April, Brad and I are going to a Pistons game and spending the night in Detroit to celebrate his birthday. And maybe a little bit to celebrate the fact that we’ll have been together three years then. The other night I thought to myself, “Damn, I don’t have any Pistons garb to wear to the game. I’m going to look so ordinary, I wish I at least had a t-shirt or something.” I didn’t say that out loud, just thought it to myself.

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day, a day which Brad and I usually acknowledge with little flair. Maybe a cute note or flirty text messages. So when I got home from work, I was completely surprised to see this draped across the back of the couch, waiting for me:

Obviously I tried it on immediately. Not only did he surprise me with a gift, but he read my mind! How did he do that? Plus, he got me number 36 because, listen to this, you’re gonna die: 36 is the jersey number of Rasheed Wallace who I happen to have a little crush on, AND 36 is the number of months we’ll have been together when we go to the game. Yeah, I didn’t even think of that. Brad did.

I’m not even a big Pistons fan, since I’m not a big sports fan at all. But having this jersey to wear next month makes me very happy. And once again, Brad kicked my ass in gift-giving. My Valentine’s gift to him?

A cheesy LOVE garland from the dollar spot at Target that I tied around his computer chair for him to find in the morning. I suck at love.

To finish up a suprisingly eventful Valentine’s day, we went to dinner with Robin and pretended to be a polygamist trio out for a Valentine’s day date. It was hot.

Things that have been going on:

1. Brad and I tried a new Mexican restaurant last Friday, one we’ve been wanting to go to for awhile. One that’s famous for its wet burritos. I ordered a shredded beef wet burrito, and when they brought it the table, I drooled all over it. I dug my fork in, salivating for that first delicious bite, and before I got the fork to my mouth I saw it. A tomato. Thinking it was probably just a stray, I dug a little further. Tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes! Everywhere! Why do those little fuckers haunt me? I had to send the whole thing back, and because I felt so bad, I lied and said I was allergic to them. And because the shredded beef is cooked with tomatoes and there’s no escaping them, I had to go with ground beef. So not the same. I’ve been craving delicious Mexican ever since.

2. I got my haircut on Tuesday, and the whole ordeal took over four hours. The weather was awful, so it took me 45 minutes to drive to the salon. I met my sister there because we have the same stylist and thought it would be fun to go together and hang out while getting beautified. I sat through my sister’s color, wash, rinse, cut and style before it was my turn. I told her to go ahead and skip the blow dryer and flat iron—I was just going out in the storm and then going to bed anyway! Plus I wanted to save the extra money it costs. But she refused to let me leave with a poof on my head and insisted on styling. I protested; she insisted. And then she charged me for it. The drive home took another 45 minutes, and I didn’t get anything productive done that night. But I did spend time with my sister, so it was worth it.

3. School work is picking up a bit. It’s time to start some of those big projects and quit doing the bare minimum. I wish I could look forward to spring break in a few weeks, but it really does me no good as I have to work all week anyway. And I don’t think I get much of a break from my online class.

4. I’ve had zero time to craft lately, and it’s starting to depress me. I finally have an entire area devoted to crafts, and it sits there stagnant, calling out for attention. Cries which I must ignore.

5. I haven’t been into American Idol this year mostly because I keep forgetting it’s on. But some people at work were discussing it this morning in the break room, and suddenly I found myself in a pool to pick the winner. I’m supposed to pick a guy and a girl from the top 24 who I think will win, but unfortunately I don’t know a damn thing about any of them. I’m thinking about going by like “coolest name” or “best use of eye makeup” or something. If you’re a fan and have some tips on who to pick, help a girl out!

6.  I’m thinking about using my crock pot for the second time (since Christmas! I suck) this weekend to make chili. But I don’t have a good recipe. Anyone want to share theirs? My only rules are that it can’t be really hot (as in spicy), and it can’t be heavy on the beans because even though I love them, Brad doesn’t. We need a good compromise recipe.

That’s it. Hope you feel caught up.

Despite what I may have said recently, I really do hate winter. I know that nobody wants to hear one more rant about how much winter sucks, because unless you’re smart and live in a warmer climate, we’re all suffering through a long and bitter cold season. And nobody is having much fun as far as I know. But to get it out of my system, here are a few reasons that I, personally, wish winter had never been invented:

• Friday afternoon Brad and I were talking in our apartment when I noticed a car in the parking lot below struggling to get out of its snowpacked spot. We watched for a few seconds before Brad went down to help. He put on his big snow boots, gloves, coat and hat and waded through knee-deep snow to help the guy push the car while his girlfriend steered. They got it out, and all Brad got for his efforts was a half-hearted “thanks.” People are not friendly in the winter.
• Saturday night Robin and I decided we wanted to watch a movie together, but when it came time to decide who would drive over to the other’s place, we called the whole thing off. We live in the same apartment complex and our buildings are literally a five second drive away. But because neither of us wanted to get out from under our pile of blankets and bear the elements for even that long, we didn’t hang out.
• To make up for Saturday night’s non-hang-out, she and I went grocery shopping together on Sunday. The snow was so thick and the wind so strong, we couldn’t even see where to push the overflowing cart to get to her car. Did I say push the cart? I meant drag it—the wheels were too packed with snow and ice to roll properly.
• This morning I pulled out into traffic on my way to work, and my tires wouldn’t grab the pavement. I was turning left and had traffic from both directions coming at me, and there I was, inching along despite my foot heavily on the gas. If it’s that icy, those cars aren’t gonna stop just because I’m in their way. I got there safely, but it was a long and awful commute.

Last week, Amanda at Mandajuice posted a recipe for a crab dip that looked divine. I thought about it for days, mouth watering, stomach growling. Finally I enlisted Robin to help me throw together the ingredients and make our own batch.

We headed to the store to buy ingredients since we are both completely lame and have NO food in our kitchens. We had to buy all but the onion and mayonnaise. Which means we also had to buy a bottle of chardonnay, a task we both loathed because we loathe chardonnay and knew we’d never use more than the 1/3 cup the recipe called for. But we didn’t want to mess with the recipe even a little, so we bought the cheapest bottle on the shelf.

We got to her apartment, unpacked our goods, prepared to cook, and realized she didn’t have a cork screw. No problem, I live two seconds away, we can go get mine. I called Brad and asked him to look for it while we drove over, and guess what. Yep, he couldn’t find it. Anywhere. See how often we drink wine? So we had to drive all the way to the store again, which shouldn’t be a big deal, except I’m a big baby and this is why I don’t cook. Because nothing is EVER simple. Even the simplest recipes become a big deal one way or another. I was ready to bail on the whole project, but Robin convinced me to push on, so to the store we went where she purchased the cheapest cork screw available.

What happens when you use a cheap cork screw? Your cork crumbles before it’s out of the bottle, causing yet another ridiculous hassle and reason not to cook. I officially hate that this recipe calls for wine, but nobody better dare tell me we coud have gotten away without it because I will injure you.

After the wine debacle, things went pretty smoothly. We drained crab meat, squeezed lemon wedges, minced garlic (though we didn’t have a garlic press so we used a knife… don’t tell Amanda), and diced onion.

After all the chopping, we dumped everything in a pot and added a bunch of gooey, creamy, fatty stuff.

Which was heated and stirred for only about 10 minutes. We didn’t make stuffed mushrooms like Amanda did, and we didn’t even bake the sourdough like her alternate recipe suggested. Instead, we just cut up our hunk of bread…

…and ate the dip warm.

It was definitely worth the work—it was everything she promised it would be. Except holy hell it makes a lot! That little portion you see there, that was practically a drop in the bucket of crab dip we made. Luckily it’s pretty good reheated, but now that it’s been a week since we made it, and there’s still a barrel of it in my fridge, I’m trying to figure out the best way to dispose of it without making my kitchen smell like a fishing dock. Ideas?

If anyone is interested in trying this recipe, check out Mandajuice. She also just made a Magic Meatloaf that’s looking pretty delicious right now. I’ll let you know if I try that too.

Sometimes I guess I really love winter. Like those times when it starts snowing at 10pm and isn’t projected to stop until at least 7pm the next day, and because of all the endless snow, they decide to let you leave work three hours early. And then sometimes that happens on the same day that your night class is canceled because of the snow. For the second week in a row. And suddenly you have the whole afternoon and evening at your disposal, to do whatever you want. Like take a nap since you’ve been sleeping like shit every night for the last few months. On those days, yeah I gotta admit, I kind of love winter. Because who’s ever heard of a sun day in the summer?

Jenn over at JustJenn had a little contest last month. One of those where you leave a comment, any comment, and get entered in a drawing to win something cool. This time it was for homemade mini-donuts. I was all about that of course, so I entered. And then I won!

Last week I found this waiting for me at home:

Wow, that seems awfully large for a few mini-donuts, I thought to myself. Well that’s because Jenn is extremely generous:

The package contained not only four donuts tied up in a bow, but also a box of strawberry Pocky, an adorable pirate ship plate, and some stationary designed by Jenn herself. Look how talented she is:

I’ve never won a blog contest before, so this was very exciting. And the donuts you ask? Delicious. Thanks again Jenn! I kind of feel like I should give something away now, but I can’t think of anything cool I have to offer. If I ever do though, look out, you could be a winner.

S: Wow what are you those?
B: Labels.
S: I didn’t know you could color-code the labels in gmail.
B: Yeah.
S: Honey, you’re always teaching me cool new things.
B: …
S: Do I ever teach you new things?
B: You teach me new levels of annoyance.

His wit. It’s astounding isn’t it? After I gave him faux puppy dog face, he did tell me that of course I teach him lots of new things all the time, so I guess he’s not all bad. That’s all I can come up with today. Have a great weekend!