I love PCs. I always have. Part of me always will. But, dear Lord in heaven, I want - nay, NEED - one of these.
Steve Jobs, you are the serpent to my Eve! Damn you!!
1.16.2008
1.13.2008
Go do this. Right now. You'll thank me.
In a large saucepan over medium high heat, put in about one cup of almonds and one cup of pecans. Shake them, stir them, toss them, whatever, for about 2 - 3 minutes. Just so they start roasting, but not so that they burn (I'm notorious for burning nuts...[insert joke about burnt testicles here]). Then, toss in about 2 inches of butter (I have no idea how many tablespoons that is, and am too lazy to walk over to the kitchen and look) and let it get all melty and sizzly. While stirring continuosly, allow to sizzle for maybe another 2 minutes. Then toss in a dry mixture comprised of about 1/2 cup brown sugar, one tablespoon cocoa powder, one tablespoon confectioner's sugar, and a dash each of cayenne pepper, salt and cinnamon. This is all very variable according to taste. I just mixed them up according to what was in my cupboard. Perhaps some nutmeg would be nice. Whatevs. Stir it all up all sexy like, and let the dry ingredients melt into the butter. After a minute or so, pour the nuts onto a cookie sheet. Shake them up or use a spoon to spread the nuts out and allow to cool. When the nuts have cooled and gotten all re-crystalized, proceed to stuff the delicious nutty goodness into your face. You're welcome.
***
In other news, I really wish Craigslist could be more helpful in helping me find part-time work in something that does not involve sales...or showing my goodies to "artists" (pervs) seeking "models" (desperate girls) for "tasteful photographs" (dirty pics) to put into their "portfolios" (secret box under the bed). Yeesh.
The more I think about it, the more I really want to get into copywriting, editing, etc. as at least a part-time gig at the moment as I continue to use the next couple of years to gear myself up, both brainiacally and emotionally, for going back to graduate school to get a doctorate in musicology. But how does one get into the writing and editing bid-niss with 2 music degrees? If someone would like to give me their opinions, I would love to hear it.
In the meantime, I am going to continue stuffing my face with delicious nuts [again, insert testicle joke here] while sifting through all the fake dirty ads on Craigslist.
***
In other news, I really wish Craigslist could be more helpful in helping me find part-time work in something that does not involve sales...or showing my goodies to "artists" (pervs) seeking "models" (desperate girls) for "tasteful photographs" (dirty pics) to put into their "portfolios" (secret box under the bed). Yeesh.
The more I think about it, the more I really want to get into copywriting, editing, etc. as at least a part-time gig at the moment as I continue to use the next couple of years to gear myself up, both brainiacally and emotionally, for going back to graduate school to get a doctorate in musicology. But how does one get into the writing and editing bid-niss with 2 music degrees? If someone would like to give me their opinions, I would love to hear it.
In the meantime, I am going to continue stuffing my face with delicious nuts [again, insert testicle joke here] while sifting through all the fake dirty ads on Craigslist.
1.09.2008
Hrrggghhhll.orBecause Merry Maids was going to charge me $200.
Have just finished cleaning Toilet of Doom for the second time. Involved going to Rite-Aid and buying 3 bottles of assorted cleaning fluids, sprays and gels. Everything marked "Exxxtra-Strength" and "Anti-bacterial." Hands now wretchedly red and raw from repeated vigorous washing with scalding hot water. Am sufficiently traumatized by entire experience. Must go curl up in fetal position and rock back and forth until Schmoobs comes home and I can beat him senseless for having friends who leave turd-splatters on my toilet. Just kidding...maybe.
Toilet and near-entirety of bathroom is now sparkling clean.
Must never speak of this ever again.
Toilet and near-entirety of bathroom is now sparkling clean.
Must never speak of this ever again.
1.06.2008
This is what I think about when I have free time.
You all have heard of Turduckens, right? A de-boned chicken, stuffed inside a de-boned duck, stuffed inside a de-boned turkey. It is, quite possibly, the very definition of American excess personified in a food item. In other words, I have never had the distinct pleasure to actually sample this wonderful delicacy, but, given the opportunity, I will fully embrace it with open arms (open mouth?).
It got me thinking yesterday as Scott and I drove to Tacoma to visit a music store to find some sheet music he was looking for (No, not the one that I work as the buyer for. Yes, that might make me a traitor. And yes, I may have spent nearly $80 on clarinet reeds at a competitor's music store. But yes, I also did call my company first to check if we had the reeds I need in stock. And no, we didn't. So yes, I feel completely justified buying my reeds since we have seating auditions tomorrow and I have today to practice for them. And yes, I plan on completely smoking the competition. And no, that doesn't make me arrogant, just confident and fabulous!): What if one were to hypothetically take some mini-cocktail weiners, stuff them inside a Nathan's hot dog, stuff that inside a Costco Polish sausage and then stuff that inside a nice fatty (phatty?) Bratwurst. Oh good lord. I defy all of you (non-vegan hippie) friends of mine to tell me that that wouldn't be like one of the greatest culinary creations this universe has ever seen! I currently only have some Nathan's hotdogs in my fridge, but rest assured that given the right occasion -- Super Bowl? March Madness? Later today for lunch? -- I will try it and it will be awesome.
Also:
89% Barack Obama
88% John Edwards
88% Hillary Clinton
86% Chris Dodd
80% Joe Biden
78% Bill Richardson
74% Dennis Kucinich
72% Mike Gravel
52% Rudy Giuliani
42% John McCain
32% Tom Tancredo
31% Mitt Romney
27% Mike Huckabee
21% Ron Paul
17% Fred Thompson
OBAWARDINTON '08!!!
2008 Presidential Candidate Matching Quiz (thanks Sarah L.!)
UPDATE: I confess that I don't really have a mind for politics. Scratch that. I have a mind. And it doesn't like to think about politics much...except for thoughts such as, "Go Liberals!" (much to the chagrin of my parental figures) However, I do have to say that I am SO excited to live in a country led by President Obama or President Hillary or President Pretty Boy in roughly one year's time, especially after all the ridiculous craptaciousness of the last 1.75 terms. But in all seriousness, the real reason I'm way excited that we are in an election year is this: Political satire episodes of The Simpsons!! Dan Rather, Bill and Kucinich on tonight's episode... holy crap. Pure old fashioned Simpsons satire at its finest. Bring it on!
It got me thinking yesterday as Scott and I drove to Tacoma to visit a music store to find some sheet music he was looking for (No, not the one that I work as the buyer for. Yes, that might make me a traitor. And yes, I may have spent nearly $80 on clarinet reeds at a competitor's music store. But yes, I also did call my company first to check if we had the reeds I need in stock. And no, we didn't. So yes, I feel completely justified buying my reeds since we have seating auditions tomorrow and I have today to practice for them. And yes, I plan on completely smoking the competition. And no, that doesn't make me arrogant, just confident and fabulous!): What if one were to hypothetically take some mini-cocktail weiners, stuff them inside a Nathan's hot dog, stuff that inside a Costco Polish sausage and then stuff that inside a nice fatty (phatty?) Bratwurst. Oh good lord. I defy all of you (non-vegan hippie) friends of mine to tell me that that wouldn't be like one of the greatest culinary creations this universe has ever seen! I currently only have some Nathan's hotdogs in my fridge, but rest assured that given the right occasion -- Super Bowl? March Madness? Later today for lunch? -- I will try it and it will be awesome.
Also:
89% Barack Obama
88% John Edwards
88% Hillary Clinton
86% Chris Dodd
80% Joe Biden
78% Bill Richardson
74% Dennis Kucinich
72% Mike Gravel
52% Rudy Giuliani
42% John McCain
32% Tom Tancredo
31% Mitt Romney
27% Mike Huckabee
21% Ron Paul
17% Fred Thompson
OBAWARDINTON '08!!!
2008 Presidential Candidate Matching Quiz (thanks Sarah L.!)
UPDATE: I confess that I don't really have a mind for politics. Scratch that. I have a mind. And it doesn't like to think about politics much...except for thoughts such as, "Go Liberals!" (much to the chagrin of my parental figures) However, I do have to say that I am SO excited to live in a country led by President Obama or President Hillary or President Pretty Boy in roughly one year's time, especially after all the ridiculous craptaciousness of the last 1.75 terms. But in all seriousness, the real reason I'm way excited that we are in an election year is this: Political satire episodes of The Simpsons!! Dan Rather, Bill and Kucinich on tonight's episode... holy crap. Pure old fashioned Simpsons satire at its finest. Bring it on!
1.04.2008
Confessions of a Germophobe.
I am seriously considering hiring a professional cleaning service a la Merry Maids or the Maid Brigade to come to our apartment and clean our bathroom. As in, I've actually contacted one of the companies to have them give me an estimate. As in, "How much would I have to pay you to come into my home and completely unleash your total and utter disinfectant-y madness on my bathroom? Because dearlordI'llpayitIdon'tcarewhatthecostispleasejustmakemybathroomallbetteragainIcan'ttakeitanymoreaaaaaaaaah."
Quite frankly, I've cleaned the toilet already. I've lived with it for about a week now. And I still cannot erase the vision of that hell-born, turd-ridden nightmare that greeted me when I came home from the airport after Christmas vacation. It has, quite literally, been burned into my brain. What did not help matters was the fact that I came home from work today to find that my Schmoobles had absentmindedly left the toilet seat up and I walked in to see all the little ...bits and pieces... that I was unable to clean due to the fact that I was busy lapsing into a shock-induced blackout and mentally willing myself to not vomit inside my mouth.
In related news: I was taking a shower yesterday when I realized I didn't have a fresh towel on the towel bar. So I called to Schmoobs to get me a towel, which he did, and then he said as he was walking out, "I put it on the toilet...." To which I responded by immediately popping my head from beyond the shower curtain and asking, "It's WHAT?!" and then eyeing with crazy eyes the fresh towel folded neatly on top of the toilet lid. And then I said, "Put it heeeeere..." as I tapped the safe and clean, non-turd-ridden towel bar. To which Scott rolled his eyes and sighed, "You are such a germophobe." Damn straight.
Also: we went and saw "National Treasure II" last night. Scott had been trapped in our apartment all week as I had to use his giant monster truck to drive to and from work while (un)Lucky continues to sit on the street with a flat tire (we will take care of it today), and he was the very definition of "stir crazy," so I had to indulge his desire to go out and see a really bad movie. It was, however, surprisingly enjoyable. I attribute this to the fact that we had gone and seen the first "National Treasure" when it came out and I was now fully prepared for the campy acting and non-sensical plot twists and turns that are apparently the hallmark of this franchise. Also? We still have not forgiven "The Golden Compass" for sucking balls so hard, and anything halfway decent in comparison now qualifies as a good movie. I do have to say, however, that, unlike so many of his male Hollywood peers, good ol' Nic Cage is not aging gracefully. I mean, isn't that the bitterly unfair truth about aging actors? That they get to become better looking with age while their female counterparts, erm, ....don't. But, whoa. You better watch out with the eyeliner and hairplugs. It's getting a little out of control.
Quite frankly, I've cleaned the toilet already. I've lived with it for about a week now. And I still cannot erase the vision of that hell-born, turd-ridden nightmare that greeted me when I came home from the airport after Christmas vacation. It has, quite literally, been burned into my brain. What did not help matters was the fact that I came home from work today to find that my Schmoobles had absentmindedly left the toilet seat up and I walked in to see all the little ...bits and pieces... that I was unable to clean due to the fact that I was busy lapsing into a shock-induced blackout and mentally willing myself to not vomit inside my mouth.
In related news: I was taking a shower yesterday when I realized I didn't have a fresh towel on the towel bar. So I called to Schmoobs to get me a towel, which he did, and then he said as he was walking out, "I put it on the toilet...." To which I responded by immediately popping my head from beyond the shower curtain and asking, "It's WHAT?!" and then eyeing with crazy eyes the fresh towel folded neatly on top of the toilet lid. And then I said, "Put it heeeeere..." as I tapped the safe and clean, non-turd-ridden towel bar. To which Scott rolled his eyes and sighed, "You are such a germophobe." Damn straight.
Also: we went and saw "National Treasure II" last night. Scott had been trapped in our apartment all week as I had to use his giant monster truck to drive to and from work while (un)Lucky continues to sit on the street with a flat tire (we will take care of it today), and he was the very definition of "stir crazy," so I had to indulge his desire to go out and see a really bad movie. It was, however, surprisingly enjoyable. I attribute this to the fact that we had gone and seen the first "National Treasure" when it came out and I was now fully prepared for the campy acting and non-sensical plot twists and turns that are apparently the hallmark of this franchise. Also? We still have not forgiven "The Golden Compass" for sucking balls so hard, and anything halfway decent in comparison now qualifies as a good movie. I do have to say, however, that, unlike so many of his male Hollywood peers, good ol' Nic Cage is not aging gracefully. I mean, isn't that the bitterly unfair truth about aging actors? That they get to become better looking with age while their female counterparts, erm, ....don't. But, whoa. You better watch out with the eyeliner and hairplugs. It's getting a little out of control.
1.01.2008
Happy New Year to me!orTypical.
Went on my merry way to excitedly head to the airport to pick up Schmoobles at 10pm on Sunday night. Literally 15 seconds from the Interstate onramp, I heard a *thud* as my tire hit or ran over something followed by *rrrrrr RRRRRR RRRRR clunk clunk clunk RRRRRRR RRRRRR clunk RRRRRR* as my poor (un)Lucky struggled to remain in forward motion with a FLAT TIRE.
Praise the heavens I hadn't made it onto the onramp yet, and was able to slowly turn (un)Lucky around and very gingerly make my way back to our apartment before running through the mud (I parked out on the street instead of our actual parking lot) and up the stairs and back into the apartment to grab Scott's truck keys and race back to the airport in his comparatively massive and unwieldy Ford pick-up. Better to have all the craptaciousness out in 2007 to make way for a fabulous 2008, no?
In better news, Scott performed some magic witchcraftery with his credit card last night as we celebrated the New Year by having dinner at Chevy's (in which I ordered the Sampler Platter and was immediately questioned by the bartender: "Have you ever had the Samplet Platter before? You know it's a lot of food, right?" To which I responded: "Bring it.") and then headed over to Target to purchase a beautiful new 32" HDTV. I, of course, being the more financially conservative of the pair (...how scary is that?!), did not feel that we necessarily needed it. But now that it is sitting in our living room, I will be sure to enjoy it immensely. Especially when all these silly little Bowl games are through and I set the television back to its Regularly Scheduled Ysabel Programming (i.e. The Food Network).
Happy New Year everyone!
Praise the heavens I hadn't made it onto the onramp yet, and was able to slowly turn (un)Lucky around and very gingerly make my way back to our apartment before running through the mud (I parked out on the street instead of our actual parking lot) and up the stairs and back into the apartment to grab Scott's truck keys and race back to the airport in his comparatively massive and unwieldy Ford pick-up. Better to have all the craptaciousness out in 2007 to make way for a fabulous 2008, no?
In better news, Scott performed some magic witchcraftery with his credit card last night as we celebrated the New Year by having dinner at Chevy's (in which I ordered the Sampler Platter and was immediately questioned by the bartender: "Have you ever had the Samplet Platter before? You know it's a lot of food, right?" To which I responded: "Bring it.") and then headed over to Target to purchase a beautiful new 32" HDTV. I, of course, being the more financially conservative of the pair (...how scary is that?!), did not feel that we necessarily needed it. But now that it is sitting in our living room, I will be sure to enjoy it immensely. Especially when all these silly little Bowl games are through and I set the television back to its Regularly Scheduled Ysabel Programming (i.e. The Food Network).
Happy New Year everyone!
12.30.2007
Just one more, and then that's it, okay? I promise!
Got back into Seattle last night after a short and pleasingly uneventful plane ride. Sad how a one hour delay followed by 90 minutes of shrieking babies and flustered first-time fathers talking way too loudly behind you about "binkies" and "potty" now qualify as a pleasingly uneventful plane ride. But I digress.
Came home to find Bela alive and well with only a bit of cat vomit on one of the couches. Not bad considering I can usually count on at least 3 - 5 various mini-piles of cat vomit scattered about the apartment whenever the Schmoobs and I leave for vacation. Our friend Mike must have done a good job taking care of our overly co-dependent little furball while we were gone.
However, after doing the obligatory boogie-man inspection throughout the apartment (Bathtub? Check. Closets? Check. Office? Check. Don't tell me I'm the only one that does this when I walk into an empty apartment...), I did find one very unwelcome guest...in our toilet. For my poor mother's sake, let's just say there were ...remnants... in there that were most definitely not there when we left and that were now ...hardened... and ...clinging to the sides.... and very difficult to ...scrub off... despite one very traumatizing attempt to get rid of it using the only bottle of cleaner (Windex, of all goddamned things!) I had left in the entire place.
Needless to say, I spent the remainder of the evening and well into this morning praying to the heavens that I could hold any urges that would compell me to want to set foot near that porcelain nightmare before Scott got home tonight and I could make him clean it again. Because even though I think I did a fair job (I'm not really sure since my brain blacked out the entire time I was having to clean it) at getting rid of any evidence of the disgustingness that was there before, it still feels so uncleeeeeaaaan, I don't think I'd be able to be mentally at peace with it again until he comes home and does a second go-through.
Note to self: buy an industrial-sized jug of bleach before Schmoobs comes home. And maybe some adult diapers.
Came home to find Bela alive and well with only a bit of cat vomit on one of the couches. Not bad considering I can usually count on at least 3 - 5 various mini-piles of cat vomit scattered about the apartment whenever the Schmoobs and I leave for vacation. Our friend Mike must have done a good job taking care of our overly co-dependent little furball while we were gone.
However, after doing the obligatory boogie-man inspection throughout the apartment (Bathtub? Check. Closets? Check. Office? Check. Don't tell me I'm the only one that does this when I walk into an empty apartment...), I did find one very unwelcome guest...in our toilet. For my poor mother's sake, let's just say there were ...remnants... in there that were most definitely not there when we left and that were now ...hardened... and ...clinging to the sides.... and very difficult to ...scrub off... despite one very traumatizing attempt to get rid of it using the only bottle of cleaner (Windex, of all goddamned things!) I had left in the entire place.
Needless to say, I spent the remainder of the evening and well into this morning praying to the heavens that I could hold any urges that would compell me to want to set foot near that porcelain nightmare before Scott got home tonight and I could make him clean it again. Because even though I think I did a fair job (I'm not really sure since my brain blacked out the entire time I was having to clean it) at getting rid of any evidence of the disgustingness that was there before, it still feels so uncleeeeeaaaan, I don't think I'd be able to be mentally at peace with it again until he comes home and does a second go-through.
Note to self: buy an industrial-sized jug of bleach before Schmoobs comes home. And maybe some adult diapers.
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