slow cooker = me not starving

Lately, every time I try to blog, I start saying things like "I am so busy, why am I so busy, it sucks, the house is a wreck, I'm behind on everything, the car looks like I'm driving a dumpster on wheels, I haven't eaten anything but Taco Bell/Arby's/Chick-Fil-A and stray cupcakes that cross my path for the past week, OMG AM PROBABLY GOING TO EXPLODE AT ANY SECOND."

I could probably write another post like that today, except that today included a rare morning of me waking up early, having my delicious pumpkin spice coffee while watching The Today Show, playing with my kittens, working on a project, and finally trolling the Taste of Home website for something I wanted to have for dinner. I even got to go to the grocery store for the first time in about two and a half weeks and actually plan a meal! That I will be at home to eat! Even if it will be at 8:30! It's better than 10:00!

Let me just say that if it weren't for my slow cooker lately, I would surely starve. Even cooking in that thing has been an achievement as of late. Not kidding, if it hasn't come from a lean cuisine box (on a good day) or a fast food bag (the norm), I pretty much haven't eaten it in the last month because of all this trial team mess.

So today's recipe from the Taste of Home gods (I have never had a bad ToH recipe) is slow cooker spaghetti sauce. I have been having a spaghetti craving, and not the old standby where I just make pasta and dump a jar of sauce on it and then nom it mindlessly while I stand over the sink. If you too have found yourself with no time and a serious spaghetti craving, here's what I recommend:

Ingredients:

• 1 pound ground beef or bulk Italian sausage (I used ground beef because it was on sale at Food Lion and also less calories, but I'm sure sausage would be delicious!)
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 2 cans (14-1/2 ounces each) diced tomatoes, undrained (I used the kind with basil, oregano, and garlic included, but I still didn't skimp on the dried herbs and garlic - I figure you can't have too much.)
• 1 can (8 ounces) tomato sauce
• 1 can (6 ounces) tomato paste
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 tablespoon brown sugar (super important, don't leave this out)
• 4 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 to 2 teaspoons dried basil
• 1 to 2 teaspoons dried oregano
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 to 1 teaspoon dried thyme (I didn't have any of this, but I just added plenty of the other stuff and I'm not missing it)
• Hot cooked spaghetti

Directions:

• In a large skillet, cook beef and onion over medium heat until meat is no longer pink; drain.
• Transfer to a 3-qt. slow cooker. Add the next 10 ingredients. Cover and cook on low for 7-8 hours or until heated through. Discard bay leaf. Serve with spaghetti. Yield: 6-8 servings.

I'm serving it with Pepperidge Farm frozen five-cheese Texas toast, because it is THE BEST and because it's ready in 5 minutes and thus something PB can handle while I'm in class, and make salad to go along with it.

Happy Tuesday!

In which I consider paying a ridiculous amount of money for SHOES

Here comes another dreaded wedding post. But y'all, I am having a SHOE CRISIS of EPIC PROPORTIONS. A dramatic, terrible, bridezilla-esque, full-blown shoe emergency.

See, I have been taking advantage of those sweet people at Zappo's who let you buy as many shoes as you want, get them home, and send them back with no shipping charge for any of it. Really, I'm at a point where I'm feeling a little guilty about it, because I have just used their poor selves over and over.

I initially ordered two pairs of shoes, both

peep toe fuschia heels. But then they came and one was more purple, and dear sweet Lord do I ever HATE purple, so that one had to go back. Th

en the other had a rhinestone buckle on the toes which turned out to be set in a brassy gold color. I hate gold perhaps even more than purple, so back to Zappo's they went.

Then I ordered a third pair.

I know, they're lovely. Very cute. And they don't make me want to punch a school bus full of orphans immediately upon viewing them. However, within about ten minutes of wearing them, I start to consider punching at least a few orphans. I'm feeling like following an afternoon of pictures, a ceremony, and some dancing, the four-inch heels on those bad boys are going to bring out my homicidal tendencies.

So you know that I tried to remedy this situation by purchasing the Nine West pink flip flops I showed you in this post. But they are not cute. The soles are too thick, the straps are too thick, they are a weird color, and basically they somehow manage to combine Lisa Frank rainbow ponies with a lesbian softball coach sort of vibe. Not the vibe we are going for, in short. This means they're going back to DSW. They just have to.

But I am still toying with the idea of flip flops. Like nice, blinged out, cute and comfy but still sexy flip flops. And on the search for those, I've come across Mystique Sandals. Y'all, they have cute shoes. Like these:

But horribly, they want ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS for some FLIPPY FLOPPIES. For reals?! I haven't been able to let myself order them yet. I'm keeping the 4-inch peep toes for now. I haven't totally divorced them, since they are really cute. But then I think to myself hmmm, those were $116 dollars and I feel like I will wear them maybe once or twice more ever, maybe with an LBD. So is it worth it to buy cute wedding shoes that I could actually see myself busting out with a sundress later? Or is 150 freakin dollars just too much to be tolerated for flip flops, ever?

Happy Election Day!

First, some gripes I have:

The space bar on my laptop is sticking and it is making me CRAZY. DoyoumindifIjusttypelikethisfortherestofthepost? Because at this point, that is NEARLY A NECESSITY. Also, as I am posting in commercial law, the fact that I have to keep awkwardly banging the crap out of my space bar is a little strangetastic.

Also, why does the calendar flipping to November mean it is suddenly polar bear weather? I was out campaigning this morning (woo, election day!) and I feel like I may have been doing more harm than good, as I was holding out cards to voters and shaking like an alcoholic missing her morning glass of vino and saying, "G-g-g-good m-m-m-morning, c-c-can I give you s-s-some information?" So attractive.

Now, on to the more positive things:

You may remember that Halloween is my favorite holiday of the year. Not sure why, but it always has been. Maybe that was because when I was in elementary school at Crazypants Christian (not that all Christian schools are crazypants, but mine sure was) - I could dramatically declare that my favorite holiday was Halloween and elicit all sorts of gasps and judgy looks. Because I like the devil's holiday more than the baby Jesus' birthday!

Seriously though, I love Christmas too, but Christmas is a pressure-filled holiday. I always end up running up my credit card because I try too hard to be a good gift-giver, I engage in marathon eating for a week and gain a ton of winter polar bear weight, and then there's the terrible post-holiday-undecorating phase. Halloween is low pressure. No family members to upset if you don't spend enough time with them, no ugly/ill-fitting/impractical gifts to deal with, and of course - free candy! Just because you asked!

This year though, I wasn't all that into Halloween. Normally, I decorate the house to the nines, I plan my costume and activities to which to wear said costume months in advance, and I play "Monster Mash" ad nauseam. This year, I lazed around and debated even doing anything at all until the very last minute. I didn't plan a costume, so when I did dec

ide to go out, I did the old "pull random shiz out of the closet and call it a costume" routine.

Perhaps is because I was sans-PB, because he has recently attained the world's most terrible job which requires him to work at every waking second that one might want to do something fun, or really, anytime I'm not at work or law school. Ohhh what I would give to have him back in a 9-5 job. We love it. Can you tell?

But anywho, whining aside, here's how my "costume" turned out:

I was a "cowgirl"...which I achieve by just pulling junk out of the closet. Quite frankly, it kind of scares me that I can pull out stuff I would actually wear and make a costume out of it. Probably that says something about my style.

I know you also like my fix for not being enough of an adult to own a full-length mirror. Pull back shower curtain, perch precariously on bathtub (exponentially more difficult depending on the footwear the outfit requires), contort self slightly so as to see full self in mirror. Normally it's not quite so difficult because the outfit doesn't require a hat that also needs to be evaluated.

But that was the start of Halloween. I walked up the street to a party, which seemed like a good idea in order to avoid running down trick-or-treaters, but which I was starting regret about 1/4 mile in. It was about a half mile away, I wasn't wearing the most comfortable cowboy boots in the world, and I was also carrying a leaky cooler with ice and two bottles of wine. (Yes, I packed two bottles of wine, for myself, for one party. In my defense, it was indecision, not alcoholism.) Basically, I was the big creeper trolling the sidewalks with a cooler bag and no pants while kids and parents gave me strange looks. It's a good role to play on Halloween.

I had an excellent time at the party, however. How could I not, what with the bonfire in the front yard, candelabras everywhere, some awesome costumes, and frito pie? Frito pie is DELICIOUS.

allowing myself to inundate you with some wedding squee!

I have been specifically trying to keep y'all clear of the nausea-inducing wedding posts that I could be doing. You like how I do that by just not posting? I know, I know. It's genius.

Well today, children, will be an exception. Today is going to be a list of Meredith's Favorite Wedding Things. Things that just make you go "SQUEEE!"

First, you should know that I have picked the all-important Colors of the Wedding. Teal and raspberry. And YES, I am obnoxiously referring to it as raspberry.

The color of those roses? LOVE. Combined with something like this:

Not so much a fan of the chocolate brown here, but I love the teal. See, I'm in this quandary because we're getting married September 10. Yes, 9/10/11. So to me, September 10th feels like summer is on the way out, and fall is on the way in, even if it will be 900 degrees the day we get married.

But I hate, hate, HATE the harvest hoedown wedding theme. No mini pumpkins, no burgundy dresses, and for the love of Jesus, no sunflowers. No sunflowers anywhere. Those do not belong in one's wedding. Unless perhaps one's wedding is at a quaint, picturesque barn. Maybe the one on Martha Stewart's property. And Martha Herself would have to arrange the flowers in a way that didn't scream "These won first prize in the 4-H contest at the county fair!"

So I wanted to do something other than super bright summery colors or springy pastel colors. But NO SUNFLOWERS. And no harvest hoedown. Hence, the teal/raspberry theme. Lots of satin, lots of jewel tones, and pink shoes. At least for me.

I have yet to find a pair of high heeled pink shoes that don't make me want to punch a baby within five minutes of putting them on though. Those poor folks at Zappo's have sent me not one, not two, but three pairs now. I keep putting them on and wearing them around the house and subsequently thinking about all the different ways I could and would probably commit a homicide whilst wearing them. So the poor folks at Zappo's are probably going to be getting all three pairs of those back.

DSW has sent me a pair of hot pink flip flops. They have not yet arrived, but I'm expecting them to look like this:

I'm hoping that they are a) actually cute, b) comfortable, and c) not going to make it overly obvious that I am an oompa loompa and PB is a wildebeest.

Fingers crossed.

since everyone loves twilight, you should all love my post about blood sucking just as much

I may have posted about this before, because for some reason, when I give blood, I seem to ALWAYS get the person who is not the best at their job. It always turns out to be some sort of cray situation where I either a) nearly pass out or b) actually pass out or c) am unable to tolerate the arterial stick that Skippy the Blood Boy just gave me and subsequently pass out, throw up and have a 3 month bruise.

Thank goodness, no arterial stick today. Which is great because that junk sucks, yo. But I did give blood and it was fun as usual. First, it was on the bloodmobile, which freaks me out a little, first because it's called the bloodmobile and second because it's never still. It seems to be constantly slightly moving due to people walking, door opening and closing, etc. This frightens me because dear Lord, we do not any other movement variables added into this question.

My friendly technician today was Mike. I imagine that Mike's job must be incredibly claustrophobic, because he works on the bloodmobile (which is really the blood motor home) and Mike is roughly the size of an industrial refrigerator.

So Mike starts digging on my arm with the needle and at about stick #4 I'm starting to think that Mike is running out of chances and if he digs in there one more time, I might have to pop him, refrigerator sized or not. Lucky for both me and Mike, he finally has a win on attempt numero cinco and I feel like I can relax.

I sit there, sipping on my water, trying to distract myself with my iPhone, just chillin yo. But then I start to get that dear-sweet-baby-Jesus-I-am-going-to-pass-out feeling. You know that feeling, when the blood motor home starts to feel like it is 462 degrees and that you might barf all over Mike and anyone else in your general vicinity.

About that time, a woman later identified as Lisa, and also as el jefe of the blood motor home, storms onto the bus. Because of the way I was positioned, my butt laid out on the chair/bed/whatever thing is the first thing you see upon entering the blood motor home. Upon viewing me, Lisa starts hollering at Mike.

"MIKE, look at her!" [Goes to look at my bag of blood.] "Why do you have her turned up to 42? SHE CAN'T HANDLE 42."

Lisa, as you may be now understanding, is kind of the blood Nazi. Her hollering startles Mike, who starts getting jumpy and making sudden movements around my arm and jerking on the lines, which in turn makes me real nervous and feel a lot more like I might pass out and/or throw up.

Then Lisa turns her attention to me. She starts turning the blood motor home air vents toward me, gets an ice pack and militantly demands that I put it behind my neck. She gets one of those tiny nursing-home-sized Pepsis out of the cooler, gives me a straw and tells me to swish the Pepsi.

Confused, as no one has ever told me to "swish the Pepsi" before I swallow it, I sort of sip slowly and hold it in my for a second before I gulp it down. This is not what Lisa wanted.

"I said SWISH IT. Like MOUTHWASH. Don't you use mouthwash?"

Ummm.

So I attempt to better follow Lisa's directions. Surprisingly, this seems to work. I'm no longer feeling like I might pass out/throw up. I'm beginning to feel like Lisa has done the voodoo on me. How could swishing Pepsi like MOUTHWASH (as Lisa directed) fix me? Very strange. According to Lisa, it "gets the sugar all over your mouth," which raises your blood pressure. I think Lisa needs to come up with a better explanation for her voodoo witch magic. I am just so not convinced.

The entire moral of this story, I suppose, is that if you start to feel like you are going to die/throw up/pass out/walk toward the light, you just need a tiny can of Pepsi and you need to SWISH IT. Like MOUTHWASH. Trust the voodoo magic, y'all.

i make silly handmade things

You might have gathered by now that I am an old lady. I bake, I am the crazy cat lady, and I knit. As of late, I have started stockpiling my knitted things to sell on Etsy and in fact have listed said things on Etsy. But I swear, I am not selling a darn thing. Not even when I get Etsy showcases, not when I spend $5 on facebook ads, nothing.

I can't decide why that is. Perhaps my stuff costs too much. But here's the thing - yarn is expensive and knitting takes TIME. I mean really I am probably making like $2 an hour on my stuff after you subtract out the yarn costs. And further, I am always stalking the knitting section and let me tell you, people are selling some stuff on there that looks like it was made by a drunken baboon for like $150.

So what is the DEAL, man? I've signed up for the Etsy Holiday Boot Camp, which is supposed to indoctrinate me into this mess and tell me how it is that I'm supposed to be like some little woman in a hut in Mongolia, making my living from my knitting.

If you're feeling a little chilly (not likely around here since it's like 95 degrees still) - go grab a scarf! Got a bebe or a friend with one? Buy a blankie! Okay, shameless plug. But seriously - Pretty in Purls - go there, you know you need some hand-knitted items.

I'm baaaaaaaack.

I know, you're so excited. I have been busy with stuff, y'all, stuff that has not involved the hours of being chained to my computer like law school requires. So let's have a mini-update, shall we?

First, me and PB got ENGAGED! Woo! That involved a really fun trip to Savannah in August. Specifically, we got engaged on 8-9-10. Naturally, that would mean we're getting married on 9-10-11. So I have been maniacally trying to plan a wedding before I get sucked in by terrible things like law school and the evil bar exam next summer. So let me say, this will not become a wedding planning blog, I swear. Mainly because if I were to do all of it and then write about it ad nauseam, I'd probably go crazy. Also because I've already done all the big major crazy stuff.

I guess there really is no second. I'm back in the throes of law school, except it's 3L year, which means if I ever gave a crap before (let's be honest, I don't think I ever really have) I sure don't now. In fact, I was talking to Lia earlier and explained my feelings about graduation. Basically, I don't have any interest in going. I feel like law school is sort of like a bad relationship, and when I get out, it will be a big sigh of relief. We'll part ways, we won't see each other anymore, it'll be a little awkward when we meet in passing, but it will be over. I feel like graduation is sort of the big screaming fight in the high school parking lot that leads up to that point. And I'd rather not, thanks. I'd rather just roll quietly into the next phase of our relationship.

Oh well, probably the whole family will put the brakes on that crap and I'll have to go anyway. We'll see!

Expect to hear from me more since I'm glued to the computer more now. There's no more keeping the laptop in its little hidey hole and being outside, being at the beach, sitting on the porch, drinking lots of wine. Okay maybe there's still drinking lots of wine. But now that happens while I do homework. With the computer. Which = blogging! Woo!