Happy Easter Monday!

The lake was lovely. I can't say I really did anything to speak of while we were there - we didn't even go so far as to put the boat in. PB and I went down with some of our friends and my parents came down too, and it was pretty much sitting on the dock, and getting up to reload the cooler. The sunset was beautiful:

Then yesterday I was a heathen and didn't go to church for Easter, but that's because we go to a big church downtown, which is all nice and pretty and somewhere you'd want to go if you never go to church. So that means I'm sure there were 9 million and one people there, and that just takes away my Easter spirit and makes me want to start punching people.

So instead, I stood on the dock and flashed people! It was great, I walked down by myself, towel, soda, and Kindle in my arms, in what I like to refer to as my Little Mermaid bathing suit. It's one of those from the evil empire of Victoria's Secret, and it's a seafoam colored bandeau top with a seashell in the middle. And whilst I have all of this stuff in my arms, and am facing out toward the lake, my top just flies off of me. I don't mean it shifts downward a little, I don't mean it nearly comes off, I mean the thing FLIES OFF, and everything just pops out, kind of like when you open up a can of biscuits.

So I stood there stunned for a moment, and the guy on the jetski in front of me sat there stunned, and finally I threw the rest of my stuff down and picked up my top. It was a moment that made the baby Jesus happy on Easter, I'm sure.

Speaking of bathing suits (disjointed alert here), I am in love with the new Liberty of London stuff at Target. I may have to go procure a new bathing suit today.

This is my particular favorite. NEED. WANT. MUST HAVE.

Also, if anyone is looking for a good read to start off summer, here's my recommendation of the day:

Try The Motion of the Ocean by Janna Cawrse Esarey. It's a memoir about how she sails around the world with her new husband - it sounds weird and terrible, but it's got a very chatty feel, and she'll seriously take you to amazing places and make you want to buy a craptastic sailboat, grab your significant other, quit whatever it is you do, and go sailing forever.

It's already 76 degrees here, lovelies - I hope it's beautiful in your neck of the woods. Just call me Al Roker. Time to go out and enjoy the sunshine!

how to tell it's Friday

Here's how:

I open my giant bag at 9am to start out my day with constitutional law class, and lo and behold, there is a big bottle of wine in the bottom of it! And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how we tell it's Friday. I would like to tell you that I did this because I'll be pouring it in my travel mug and having moscato (yes, I only drink cheapie sweet wine) during class all day, but alas, I am not that cool. Junk was in my car yesterday - again, not because I am cool, but because it had escaped from a grocery bag or some such and I thought tossing it in my school bag would be a good way to get it into the house. Clearly though, I am not responsible enough to actually get it in the wine rack and thus, I have wine at school. A+ to me.

Last weekend, we went to DC for Lia's birthday! Turns out it also happened to be peak cherry blossom weekend, which was so pretty I nearly died.
I just heart this picture due to the miles of cherry blossoms behind us.

This weekend? It's lake weekend, y'all. Down here in the South (a word I usually capitalize), it is supposed to be EIGHTY flipping EIGHT degrees today and eighty-six tomorrow. This means my hind parts will be planted firmly on the dock, beer in hand.

Thank goodness that los padres have a lake house and don't mind me mooching off of it all the time. For now though, we'll see if I can resist cracking open the wine during professional responsibility, fight traffic home, and then start the weekend. Adios, chickies.

Elephantpants

Still in love love love with RuPaul's drag race. So glad that Tatianna didn't get sent home - much better for it to be that annoying Jessica Wilde, what with her using her accent as a crutch and generally annoying the snot out of me...and honey, A+ to you for trying, but you just have a man face and there is not enough makeup for that. Ain't gonna happen. Whereas Tatianna makes a much prettier girl than I could ever hope to be.

When we were in San Francisco, we went to this bar, AsiaSF, which is a lot like RuPaul's drag race, just in person. Oh, and there is "dinner" beforehand, which consisted of the teeniest little mini crabcakes and peanut chicken skewers you have ever seen. That, combined with the fact that there was a three drink minimum, meant that my non-liquor-drinking self was pretty inebriated by the time the drag queens actually took the stage. Well, or the bar (you know, much classier.) So that partially explains my appearance in the following picture. Well, that and my makeup/outfit are not nearly as fabulous.


Seriously, tell me they don't look for real. How do I look like that in an outfit? I could use some tips. Okay, y'all are all going to think I'm crazy what with all this drag queen talk. I am just filled with admiration, I can't help it.

Moving on. It's spring break! That means I'm going to see Lia on Thursday since her birthday is tomorrow!) Until then though, I'm at the office a lot. I wish I could blog about work, because there is always something good going on. I mean today alone I heard about a million quotes that would make a million good blog posts for y'all, but alas, I just cannot be one of those people who blogs about work. Too risky, I says.

However, I can definitely blog about DC! And every time we go, fantastic blogging material always ensues.

Hope you're all enjoying magical spring (because that is what I think of spring - it is made entirely of magic). My finches have arrived, I expect the hummingbirds any day, the daffodils are blooming and the tulips have started coming up! I know, I'm such an old lady. I have a big old-lady thermometer out on my screened porch, which I consult religiously, since of course I can't trust the big fancy tv-station weather, those city slickers certainly have different weather since they're 20 miles away. I must know the EXACT TEMPERATURE on my back porch. Now I just need a rain gauge and some tomato plants. No but seriously, I'm putting out tomato plants. I already seeded the basil yesterday. Can't wait.

You would think I had already been into the wine, due to the entirely nonsensical nature of this post. I have not, sadly. There is no excuse. I think it's just because it's spring, and things don't have to make sense in spring. I might get out my pink and blue elephant pants and wear them to the office tomorrow. And yes, I have pink and blue elephant pants. Just like those, right there. They're capri pants. I have worn them with a pink shirt. Now you can blackmail me with my blog. Oh and I still have them. And they're that print, all over. Even the butt pockets.

dolla dolla bills, y'all

You know what I think is the most ridiculous thing ever? This horse crap in which we have decided that things must have odd prices. Why did my cup of coffee cost $2.67 at the gas station this morning? Well, plus tax, another odd amount of change. This gives me the choice of either digging around in my wallet for the 86 cents or whatever it is, or taking the change, throw it in my purse, and then have that crap jingling around my wallet.

One of these days, when I am in charge of the world (which will of course one day happen), we are going to have nice, round pretty numbers for everything, tax included. Maybe instead of a new tv costing $789.49, it could just cost $800. I could shell out eight hundred dollar bills (ha! to have eight hundred dollar bills!) and walk out of there with my shiny tv.

Is this too much to ask? Maybe I am the only person who is annoyed to no end by this because I have an almost psychotic aversion to math. Like seriously, I hate even trying to figure out how much I should tip at a restaurant. I want to whip out the iPhone and start multiplying and adding in the calculator, or at least write out the addition all over the receipt. But of course I can't do that, because for heaven's sake, I have a DEGREE, and I am in fancy lawyering school, should I not be able to do a simple math problem? Clearly I should not have passed second grade. So then I try to sweat out the numbers quickly, so as not to have table full of people staring at me whilst the panic voice in my head goes "OMG, WHAT IS $15.89 x 20% AND THEN WHAT IS THAT TOTAL, ARGHHH!!?"

Then I scratch out something on the receipt, say a little prayer that it's right, shove the ticket back in the folder and leave, thinking to myself for the next several minutes, "Did I do that right? Oh no, I didn't do that right and now the total is wrong and what will the poor server do because I have done the math wrong and screwed them out of half of the tip they deserved and how could I do that, THEY DID A GOOD JOB."

It's always better when someone else pays.

happy friday!

At least, that's what I sound like. Anytime I get the slightest cold, I mean just the light sniffles, no big deal, nothing requiring a doctor's visit - my entire fills up with crud and then I can barely speak. And what I do manage to croak out sounds like I am doing a Darth Vader imitation. Which in turn leads people to have reactions like "OMG where did you leave your iron lung?!" or "What do you have, snout-rot? The plague? GET AWAYYY."

So that's what's been going on with me. Oh, also I cough awkwardly all the time, and sneeze like my head is actually going to unattach from my body, another thing that attracts a lot of attention to myself. Awesomeeee.

Something that has been keeping me happy, however, is the hot tub I recently adopted from my parents. They have a giant, 650-gallon, nice hot tub, that they never kept up. I can't blame them, because it's like playing junior chemist all the time, and the slightest little thing being off can cause it to turn into a giant cesspool, make the water look like milk, or make it foam up 12 feet in the air like you poured six containers of Mr. Bubble in it. (I know this, because all of those things have happened at some point or another.)

If you get a hot tub, I highly recommend getting a pool boy. In my case, that would be PB. He busies himself with all kind of little projects I dream up, which is fantastical. He puts in chlorine tablets, other magical things which make the hot tub not a bacteria pit, and basically it means I can park myself in the hot tub after a quick run through the cold and drink wine until my heart's content with minimal work. I LOVE IT. Also, if you're looking to be a cheap drunk, the hot tub will so get you there. Two glasses of wine and you are going to have to hoist me out because my legs have turned to Jello.

I'm planning on a lot of that this weekend. Should be amazing times. Hope you're having a glorious Friday!

Another Day of Choices

By no means is this a cooking blog, nor am I a big chef. I just make things that I get weird cravings for, and it usually works out, and sometimes it fails in an epic fashion. Tonight we're supposed to go to a cookout with some of our good friends, and I have been asked to bring dessert. Well of course, I do not like to bring things that are not impressive. If it's just me and pb, fine, we're lucky if dessert is something besides me eating ice cream straight out of the carton. But if we are going somewhere, dangit, I must look TALENTED. Like we should be putting me on Iron Chef sometime in the near future.

My grandmother makes the best cakes; they always turn out so pretty and delicious, and she makes them seemingly without effort. Me, I prefer to cook rather than bake most of the time. Once I decided to make a plethora of different kinds of cookies for our Christmas parade party and I swore over those stupid things more than I have sworn about anything, possibly ever. I had dough stuck to the rolling pin, dough on the counter, dough on the pan, dough and flour in my hair, and likely cookie ingredients on the ceiling. All I have to say is, that's why those Keebler elves live in that tree, and GOD FORBID I should put them out of a job trying to make my own cookies.

I don't mind pies - pies are easy, and I have some killer pie recipes (talk to me about my pecan pie recipe from my great-grandmother one day, it works miracles.) But often I feel like pie is not so impressive, and also that it's more of a spring/fall dish. Pumpkin and pecan in the fall, cherry and peach in the spring and summer.

So I have decided to make a cake later. I was going to make my grandmother's delicious coconut cake, with whipped cream icing, which you serve cold and is magically delicious. However, I always forget how much time it takes to get crap that has just been in the oven to be at a refrigerated temperature. It takes a long effing time, if you were not sure about such.

I was about to make a pound cake, but then pb (who is inexplicably not really a dessert person in the first place, so when he has an opinion, I listen) said he doesn't really like pound cake. It's "not sweet enough." Which I tried to tell him is due to the overwhelming nature of the 6 eggs, 2 sticks of butter, and cup of Crisco I put in a pound cake versus the measly 3 cups of sugar. Also I tried to explain that such a ratio is a good thing - as I believe fat > sugar. But alas, that combined with the fact that pound cake requires me to flour and grease a pan dissuaded me. Have you ever smeared a pound cake pan with Crisco? There is nothing to make you feel nastier, as Crisco does NOT WASH OFF. It's like a second skin (though probably excellent for moisturization purposes.)

So finally, I have decided on Paula Deen's gooey butter cake. Not sure if I shall make peanut butter or double chocolate, but I'm leaning toward peanut butter. Everything is better with peanut butter. I've had the pumpkin variety of this before, but as it's February, I'm a little over pumpkin at the moment. The general concept turns out to be something AMAZING, however. It's like a delicious dense cake on the bottom, with a warm gooey topping/center.

Here's the recipe for anyone who feels like clogging their arteries this evening. There's a reason she calls it "butter cake" and I mean, we all know that Paula Deen doesn't have a recipe without 400 oz. of butter in it. But who doesn't love butter? As Paula says - "I am your cook, not your doctor."

Peanut Butter Gooey Cake

Ingredients:

Cake

• 1 (18.25 oz) box chocolate cake mix (I think Duncan Hines is the best)
• 1 egg
• 8 tablespoons butter, melted

Filling

• 1 (8 oz) package cream cheese, softened
• 1 cup creamy peanut butter
• 3 eggs
• 1 teaspoon vanilla flavoring
• 8 tablespoons butter, melted
• 1 (16 0z) box powdered sugar
  

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees; lightly grease a 13x9 inch baking pan.
   

2. To make the cake: combine all the ingredients in the "cake" section and mix well with an electric stand or hand mixer; pat the mixture into the bottom of the lightly greased baking pan.
   

3. Prepare filling: in a large bowl, beat the cream cheese and peanut butter until smooth, add eggs, vanilla, and butter and beat together, add powdered sugar and mix well.
   

4. Spread peanut butter mixture over cake batter and bake for 40-50 minutes; make sure not to overbake, the center is supposed to be gooey.
   

5. Serve warm with whipped cream or ice cream, enjoy!
   

Ash, Ash, Wednesday (because I have "Ice, Ice Baby" inexplicably in my head)

I bet most of you would just be as surprised as a groundhog seeing its shadow if I told you I always give something up for Lent, as I'm sure I don't come off as much the religious type. But I do like church, and I do like Lent, as it's an excellent opportunity to get me out of the February funk and get my junk together.

Problem is, I always agonize over what to give up for Lent. For one thing, I have a myriad of bad habits that need reigning in. For another thing, I LOVE MY BAD HABITS. I considered several options.

First I was thinking about giving up meat for Lent, not because I'm a crazypants vegetarian, but just because I'd probably be healthier if I did - I eat a lot of terrible fatty stuff. And a lot of times I eat meat or plan meals with that as a main ingredient just because it's automatic, which is silly. I mean I like chicken and all, but it's never like, "OMG, I really really need some chicken right now." It's more a function of loving delicious fried fattiness like chicken nuggets, or boneless buffalo wings, or all the deliciousness that comes in a Taco Bell burrito. So, due to needing all of the preceding fatty things, that was out.

Then I considered giving up Facebook. Well then how will I know about anything that is going on in the world?! I will turn into a sad recluse, at home with my cats, knitting and wearing pajamas at all times. Okay maybe that's what I do now, a lot of the time. And maybe I like it. But if I didn't have Facebook, well, I'm sure that some part of the universe would just break loose and fly off, and everything would be permanently terrible.

What about just giving up Cafe World, the world's stupidest Facebook game? You know, the one where you click things to "cook food" and the entire point is to make money and gain experience points so you can decorate your cafe. CLEARLY that is IMPORTANT and I cannot give it up.

Then I thought of giving up swearing, which is a terrible, ugly habit of mine. But then I had already failed at that before I even left the house on Wednesday, so I was feeling like my chances of success with that were pretty low. Though it's still a bad habit that I need to cut back on, so I'm trying to make it sort of a secondary-Lent promise, to at least reduce my propensity to cuss like a sailor. Not sure if that's even permissible, or how anything works at all, but I'm trying.

The winner turned out to be soda. I know you are scoffing at me, especially if you are one of those people I don't understand who only ever drinks water and healthyface herbal tea. You and me, we're not the same. I drink so much diet soda, there's a good chance it is going to cause me to grow a tumor the size of Montana one of these days. I can drink about 64 oz. of that crap every day, and I am addicted to it. My drug of choice is Diet Sun Drop, and I pity you if you've never had it. It is delicious, like a sweeter Diet Mountain Dew without the aftertaste (which my cultured diet soda palate can always discern).

I am still letting myself have a cup of coffee in the morning (but no artificial sweetener) because otherwise I would have already been locked up for committing a homicide. Let's hope this makes me a better person and breaks the addiction. If I make it through, I'm not planning on quitting entirely forever, but I am definitely going to cut back. So far, we're two days in, and no one has died, but statistics on that are liable to change at any moment. I'll keep you updated.

Do you give things up for Lent? What do you give up? Have you ever been entirely successful for the whole 40 days?