Kerny.

Tonight, I'm having a hot dog and popcorn for dinner. A turkey hot dog and 94% fat free popcorn. And when I have hot dogs, I think of Courtney. Just go with me on this.

We always made good choices. Always.

Court transferred to Otterbein our sophomore year and pledged Theta Nu the same time I did. And thank god. If there's such a thing as fate, then it was definitely at work here. I wouldn't have made it through pledging, staying in the sorority, college, or just... Tuesday... without her. I've been missing her like crizazzy lately, so you people are subjected to a sappy post. Not sorry.

Some of my favorite memories of Courtney, in no particular order:

• Any time I had someone to make snarky comments with at chapter meetings.
• Having someone to talk to during pledging: as sophomores, we were definitely in the minority and sometimes Not In The Mood For This Shit because we were soooo much older and wiser. Right. But it was always good to have someone I could roll my eyes at while I crammed three facts about each active member into my head.
• The time in college I was real upset (about something stupid, I'm pretty sure), but tried to eat pizza anyway and wound up cry-choking on the crust. It was special.
• Watching her glow stick battle in a club in Indy.
• Sitting around, drinking wine, solving all the world's problems. I do believe this is what was happening in the above picture. Clearly, we are problem solvers.
• Convincing her it's ok to like a boy. No really. It's ok.
• Introducing her to the manfriend. And her subsequent approval.
• Any time we went to Cici's. And that's all I'll say about that.
• Seeing Kathy Griffen live.
• Her dance moves.
• The guy carrying his drunk (CLEARLY underage) ladyfriend out of a bar and dropping her on the concrete sidewalk, while her friend screamed "JESSSSIEEEE!!!" in her passed out face. Ok. Courtney isn't really the star of this memory, but she was there and we still laugh about it.

My college memories are pretty much all a blur of theatrical productions and Theta Nu shenanigans. With Court right at the center of the latter. And her hair. Damn, I was always jealous of that hair.

If it weren't for Court, I probably wouldn't have been so successful losing and keeping off the weight. If it weren't for her, I definitely wouldn't have started running. She convinced me to start running and we did a 5k together in Indy. My obsession with running is a direct result of this race. So, it's all her fault.

We won.

Court has always been my biggest cheerleader and my best friend. She's amazing and wonderful and 110% supportive, even when you think it's a good idea to dip Oreos in whiskey. I'm so lucky that we've been able to stay so close despite living 6 hours away from each other - and in different time zones. I'm so lucky to have a friend who will call me on my bullshit, let me ramble on about views on the world or cookies, travel across the country to see me, and always, always pour me another glass of wine. It is my sincerest hope and wish that we'll remain close friends for the rest of our lives.

We're grown ups now.

Turkey Day!

Thanksgiving happened. Everyone was fed. Everyone got along. And there were pies!

The Saturday before The Big Day, we went to Aldi and Dominick's for supplies. Yes. Two grocery stores. We take Thanksgiving seriously in our house. And yes, those are extra meaty ribs. Extra meaty = extra delicious.

Note the lack of bird.

The manfriend insisted on the ribs - he figured they had ribs at the first Thanksgiving, so there was no reason we couldn't also have ribs. Obvs.

Later that day, I made the pie crust dough. I had a little too much fun with the food processor.

The pumpkin pie crust is the basic crust from the Joy of Cooking. Simple and a good basic crust. Now, about the crust for the apple pear spice pie (from the Food Network's site, found here). I was a little nervous about the egg in the crust (the Joy of Cooking does not have egg in their crust), but it turned out to be the best best best crust I've ever made. Chewy and flavorful and not at all crumbly like some other crusts I know.

Tuesday was an exciting day. Our first visitor arrived!

Big Shaggy

Barclay is the manfriend's dog from a previous relationship and he still has partial custody. Barclay comes to visit every now and then, usually over the holidays when his mom is out of town. And Barclay is, if nothing else, a good conversation starter. If you come over while he's visiting, he'll bring you a boot.

After Barclay arrived, I continued my preparations:

My OCD at its finest.

Wednesday dawned bright and early (aka 8:00am). I got up early to make pie and rolls and pick up the manfriend's mom from the airport. We spent the day in the kitchen making the baked goods, deviled eggs, rubbing and prepping the ribs, and brining the turkey. I was so wrapped up in the baked goods, I forgot to take pictures of the meat items, but trust me, they looked spectacular.

My rolls turned out just like the picture! I was super excited and HOLY CRAP are they delicious and fluffy and yeasty and delicious. You just need yeast and patience and you too can make these rolls. Yes, they took a while, but they are so worth it. That can of back up, emergency Pillsbury (ok, fine, Dominick's brand) crescent rolls stayed IN. THE. FRIDGE.

Thursday, the rest of the manfriend's family arrived, Joe and Ashley came over (with Trader Joe's Pumpkin Cheesecake ohmygawdy'all), we finished making the appetizers (spinach dip, chili cheese dip), and then drifted in and out of the kitchen to keep an eye on the rest of the meal. Everything got done on time, nothing was burned, and it was all warm when we got it on the table!

Even more than a holiday, this was the great Meeting of the Families. I think having a Thanksgiving feast to prepare was a good distraction to keep me from FREAKING OUT about this Very Big Step, but I shouldn't have worried. Everyone got along swimmingly! It helps that we're all liberal Democratic types with similar world views, so there were no fisticuffs breaking out over the gravy. Unfortunately.

Since I was distracted by food prep (and wine...), I didn't get that many pictures, but here's what I do have:

Barclay is a proper puppy.

The Martha LOVES deviled eggs. See that joy on her face?? Joy!

FEAST. Including ribs. And this is Ashley's picture. Which I stole from the Facebook.

The tradition continues! The "tradition" being Martha beats us all at Scrabble while I get drunk on cheap wine.

Friday morning I made "danishes." Puff pastry dough + cream cheese + one of the AMAZING homemade jams Amy sent me for my birthday = best thing ever. And super easy. I know not everyone has access to this special homemade jam, but I'm sure Smucker's would work just fine.

And, as is tradition, I finished the Thanksgiving holiday and kicked off Christmas by putting up all the decorations.

Barclay helped.

Lord Beard has a Birthday

Yesterday was the manfriend's 32nd birthday. I take every opportunity of pointing out that he is SO OLD. And that he has gray hair. Because I love him.

How do you celebrate your boyfriend's 32nd birthday when you're poor and semi-unemployed? You do the following:

Replace the zipper in his old and much loved fleece (Pay attention to the length of the zipper you're buying so you don't have to return the zipper you bought that's 4 inches too long. Not that I did that... Just a pro-tip from me to you):

And I didn't even use the zipper foot.

Buy him a new Carhartt jacket (on sale!):

Obviously not the manfriend. But he's wearing it all the time, so I borrowed this from Amazon instead.

Make one of his favorite dinners:

My grandmother's lasagna recipe is the best. End of story.

And also do two loads of laundry, make chocolate chip cookies, and clean the house for Thanksgiving.

TIP: Use maple syrup instead of vanilla extract in your chocolate chip cookies for a slightly chewier cookie with a deeper flavor. And if you feel really crazy, throw in a teaspoon of cinnamon. I love cinnamon. And maple syrup. It's just a small way to feel better about using the Tollhouse recipe on the back of the bag. Also - you'll have more delicious cookies.

Happy Birthday to Lord Beard! Three cheers for the beard!!

And a very happy birthday to my dear friend Mandie as well!

CJ and Mandie digging into fried pumpkin donut holes. OMG.

November is a good month for awesome people.

The House Always Wins

I have spent the last week trying to get things ready for Thanksgiving, as outlined in my last post. And now... the house is fighting back!

Crisis! And that's kinda gross. Sorry, guys.

I heard a crash while the manfriend was in the shower this morning and just assumed he was knocking things over. No. The soap dish decided it had had enough and hit the road. Or, rather, the tub.

I already had to go to Home Depot today (a whole other story about the faucet on our kitchen sink), so I figured I'd ask the helpful folks there if they had any tips on reattaching our pissed off soap dish.

At first I thought I could just get a new ceramic dish and stick it on the wall, but no. Our apartment is just outdated enough that not even Home Depot could help on the ceramic soap dish front. Ok fine. I'll just chip all this crap off the back and go from there. But surely that will take hours and I could potentially damage the ceramic? Not  so! Turns out, liquid nails comes off with a little acetone (i.e. nail polish remover)!

Before...

and after! A mere 5 minutes later!

Ok. So far so good.

And then. The liquid nails. The liquid nails!! The nice fells at HD made it seem like I just slap some liquid nails on there, stick it on the wall, and voila! Soap dish on wall! Not so, my friends. Not. So.

First of all, the recess isn't actually big enough to fit the stupid thing, so there a huge gap where it's not even touching the wall. Second, liquid nails doesn't work that way. There should have been clamping and drying time, etc. etc. I figured this out - two hours later. Not my proudest moment.

I finally realized, when it had fallen off the wall for the fourth time, that home improvements and gambling are much the same: the house always wins.

The Great Logan Square Herbicide of 2012

As some of you may know, the manfriend and I hosted Thanksgiving (and my sister's 21st birthday - whoa) for my family last year. It was a great success, people danced in the street, there was a parade in our honor, etc. etc.

This year we're upping the ante by having BOTH families to feast in our teeny tiny apartment. Ok. It's not really teeny tiny. But there will be two extra people staying here for two nights and at least ten people here for The Meal. So it might feel teeny tiny by the end of the night.

To keep my focus, I go to my happy place: Ashley's bringing Trader Joe's Pumpkin Cheesecake. Ashley's bringing Trader Joe's Pumpkin Cheesecake. Ashley's bringing Trader Joe's Pumpkin Cheesecake.

In preparation for All The Family, I've been knocking out all the weird "home improvement" projects I've been putting off in a desperate attempt to fool everyone into thinking we're adults. Please imagine the twinkly sound from infomercials when scrolling between the before and after pictures. I sure do.

Replacing the sad little prints over the couch with a wider spread of fun black and white prints:

And moving said prints over the bookcase in the dining room (they look so much less sad here):

Transforming a cluttered mess in the bathroom:

With the help of a utensil caddy from Target!

And - I have to admit, I'm pretty proud of this - moving the clusterfuck of shoes to a nicely arranged "curtain" in the second bedroom. The second bedroom now feels like a guest room and not a catchall room. Or a huge closet that happens to have a bed in it.

Madness!

And now I can sleep at night!

But. The Project to End All Projects, the project I bribed Lexy with food (not that that's hard) to get her to help me:

The Great Logan Square Herbicide of 2012

Also known as:

WEEDING THE BACK YARD OHMAIGAWD

Lexy: Crap. I left my Agent Orange at home.

We went in, hoes and shovels held high, and took no prisoners. Gloves and Wellies were muddied. Trashcans were filled with the remains of the fallen. Tubers were unearthed. But in the end... we were victorious.

Lexy with her kill.

Me with my kill.

Two and a half hours later it looked like this:

As I said before, I bribed Lexy with food. Specifically, with Martha Stewart's Lightened Tuna Noodle Casserole (http://www.marthastewart.com/859566/tuna-casserole) and Butterscotch Oatmeal Cookies (uh, recipe on the back of the bag of Nestle butterscotch chips). 

Martha made us wait a whole TEN MINUTES for the casserole to cool. Damn it, Martha.

The casserole is good, for a "lightened" casserole. I could go for a creamier texture, but I'm also ok with my pants continuing to fit. But the pasta is delish and the peas are like little explosions of freshness in what could otherwise be a rather bland dish.

The cookies, on the other hand, might be in the top five best cookies I've ever made. Go forth and make these cookies. The world will be better place.

The next morning, I spent another hour weeding the bricks on the patio and cutting back the branches on the fence. Because, call me crazy, I was tired of getting whipped in the face every time I came in from the garage.

So now, we live in a land ruled by... well, not order, but controlled chaos.

And, more importantly, there are cookies.

Now all I have left is to mop the floors, finish piecing the quilt, keep the house clean, and, oh yeah, make a huge meal for 10-12 people. The manfriend is in charge of the ribs:

Manfriend: Are you sure we have a broiler?
Me: Yes.
Manfriend: Where is it?
Me: Under the oven.
Manfriend: Are you sure this isn't a drawer?
Me: Yes.
Manfriend: Have you ever opened it?
Me: Yes.
Manfriend: What is it?
Me: ...a broiler.

And after all that, he decided to use the grill. Hooray Thanksgiving!

Early voting and public libraries - democracy at its finest.

I know you guys have been on the edge of your seat, waiting for another thrilling post about quilting, but, dear readers, I have to disappoint you.

Saturday, I spent three hours waiting in line to vote early. Yeah, democracy! Here's why I stood in such a freakishly long line: I work at several jobs that pay hourly, so if I'm not working because I'm waiting in line to vote on Tuesday, I'm missing out on income. Yes, the lines might be better on Tuesday - especially if I got there super early - but that was not a chance I was willing to take. And I'm stupidly stubborn. After being in line for an hour, I wasn't jumping ship. Not when I got out of my cozy bed to go vote.

If anyone else has spent hours in line waiting to vote (especially my Ohio people!), be proud. Wear that sticker like a badge of honor! It's important that every single one of us gets a chance to exercise our right to vote, no matter which way we lean.

Finally, this: http://www.collectorsweekly.com/articles/war-on-women-waged-in-postcards-memes-from-the-suffragist-era/ 

Women fought too hard for too long for ladies today to skip out on voting.

Right. Getting off my teeny tiny soap box. (Go vote!)

While I was in line at the Wicker Park library, I was amused to see how many people (including me) were on their Kindles. In my defense, I was reading a library e-book on my Kindle. A wonderful, lighthearted murder mystery. 

Flavia de Luce. 11-year-old chemist and sleuth. She is beyond delightful. 

Months ago, I was killing time in the Logan Square library and stumbled upon these brightly colored, whimsical looking books in the mystery section, a section usually reserved for dark and gloomy colored books. I was intrigued. I read the description on the cover. I laughed. But no! The first book wasn't there! Crisis! Panic! I immediately rushed to a computer station to reserve a copy for my Kindle. And thus, a new obsession was born.

 

She comes from the brilliant mind of Alan Bradley. Her world is 1950s England at the Buckshaw estate in the village of Bishop's Lacey. In the first book, The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, she stumbles across a body in the cucumber patch. It happens. I think we've all been there.

She lives with her two older sisters (reminiscent of Cinderella's sisters) and her widower father. Flavia is largely left to her own devices, which leads to her spending many, many hours in the chemistry laboratory in her wing of the house, studying the poisons she so loves, or roaming the countryside and village on her trusty bicycle, Gladys.

The books are full of quirky English village characters: Inspector Hewitt, the bemused and surprisingly competent police officer; Mrs. Mullet, the gossipy family cook; Dogger, the butler/jack-of-all-trades-servant with PTSD; Miss Mountjoy, the rather severe former librarian... the list goes on. Even if you don't enjoy the plot, the characters themselves make up for it.

I have trouble reading Flavia's adventures on public transportation. I end up being that crazy girl on the train, laughing uncontrollably.

I finished the second book, The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag, in about two days. I'm currently halfway through the third book, A Red Herring without Mustard, and loving it. In my opinion, the third book is turning out even better than the last two. It seeeeeems to be heading towards a big reveal, with more information about Flavia's mother (a shadowy figure who hovers around the edges of the books) coming to light. She died when Flavia was a baby, but she is just as much a part of the series as Flavia herself.

Escape into Flavia's world. After you vote.