Still Buggin'

I hurt my back earlier this week. It still hurts. Whomever put a needle into my voodoo doll is going to get a karmic ass kicking for this. I missed lunched with a pal, derby practice, and I can barely brush my own hair because I hurt. This morning while stretching, my spine crackled in a way that felt slightly better but some day soon I would like to be able to carry my own groceries again or reach across the table for the salt shaker without wincing. How, do you ask, did I do this? No, not roller derby, I think I did it vacuuming. Stay tuned, tomorrow we'll go back to your regularly scheduled complaining about teenagers and the moral state of our nation and perhaps I'll post my trusty old recipe for mammoth stew.

Jindal at Bat

I went to derby practice on Tuesday night knowing I would miss the President's speech. I woke up on Wednesday and marched Ella off to school excited to come home and listen to Obama on the net. He said all the things I'd hoped for but apparently I missed the bigger story... how craptastic Jindal's response was. When I arrived at Mom's last night to drop Ella off for date night (we saw Push*) the first thing she said was how about that Jindal? Then I read no less than three blog posts about it this morning and instantly knew I needed to see it. I have it cued up, I'll be back in a moment.

First response 3 minutes in - "When did Kenneth the page from 30 Rock become the Gov. of Louisiana?" 8 minutes in - "I can't even hear what you are saying anymore because I'm wondering if I have any 30 rock on the DVR, I love that show." 12 minutes in - "I wonder how much longer the Republican party will last? Seriously, this was their best response? Or did they just let Jindal bat because they knew whatever they said would sound ridiculous. Like letting the benched kid go up because the score is already 36 to 7."

I looked for a Kenneth the Page video to post for comparison and apparently I'm not the only one who thought this.



* Push Started strong but felt like they rewrote the end to please test audiences resulting in a giant fight scene that seemed as if it belonged in a different movie. Overall still entertaining and colorful, liked the cinematography and the editing. Three stars.

This Old Lady's Buggin'

Last week on date night Dan and I were at the theater in line buying tickets for Slum Dog Millionaire (It was great.) when I went all old lady on him making fun of these emo kids waiting in line to buy Twizzlers and Cokes. I can understand the crazy blown all in one direction straight long hair, I had big hair once. I can understand the white belt, the stripey shirts and the holes in the clothes, and I even respect the converse all stars, but here's what put me over the edge and immediately into "those kids look ridiculous and don't even know it!" The skinny jeans with the crotch pulled down to their knees!

I thought skinny jean were for showing off your posterior?! These already awkward boys were milling around like awkward teenage boys do but waddling like little penguins, waddle waddle trying to keep their pants on. I almost took video, but they looked so uncomfortable to begin with; it would've been just mean to whip out my camera and yell "Action!" I understand the baggy look... sorta and I get the tight punk I outgrew my clothes look... sorta but you can't do both, especially at the same time! I find them walking oxymorons and I am the authority on what is cool now.

I also realize this isn't different from when the skater kids broke the cement off my front steps and I demanded we do something like call the cops and start and investigation because those kids can't get away with ruining our property and skating all over town putting grind marks on things and having all their fun at the expense of hard working tax payers and then I put my plaid pajamas on and made a warm glass of milk and settled in with a Harlequin romance novel.

Parents Just Dont Understand - The Fresh Prince

I Heart Him

100 days, 100 songs, 100 locations, 100 dances.

BOOMBOX from Ely Kim on Vimeo.

Bread Pudding Almost like We had in New Orleans

This recipe was super fun for me and Ella. She tore the bread and did all the measuring and hand mixing. It was definitely a kid friendly recipe.

1 Cup of cubed french bread
2 Egg yolks
4 Tablespoons of sugar
1 teaspoon of vanilla
2 cups of milk (the creamier the better, I used 2%)
1 Tablespoon of cinnamon
Apple
Raisins

Take the crust off of the french bread and tear the bread into cubes making sure to keep them fluffy like clouds.
Soak the bread cubes in the milk for one hour.
Beat egg yolks and add to bread cubes and milk.
Add sugar vanilla, raisins and cinnamon.
Dice very small or julienne 1/4 to 1/2 the apple and add to the mix.
Pour mixture into four custard cups, almost to the top is ok, (they don't rise.)
Set custard cups into a larger cake pan and add water to the cake pan so that the water is at least half way up the outsides of the custard cups.
Bake at 350 until the tops are golden brown and it's holding together (about an hour-ish, you can check it with the toothpick, just like brownies)

Meringue:
Beat with a whisk two remaining egg whites until it holds stiff points.
While beating slowly add 1/4 cup of powered sugar.
Add to the top of the bread pudding and put back in the oven at 350 - about 10-15 minutes until meringue is golden brown.

I'd show you a picture but it didn't last long enough to get a camera out.

Here's how they actually did it at the Commander's Palace, this was the bread pudding that set the precedent for all bread pudding thereafter.

Matell can Get Bent!

Dora the Explorer enslaved by the patriarchy. I can't even stop sputtering long enough to comment.

"The new Dora, who will be revealed in the fall, lives in the big city and goes to middle school. She still solves mysteries but she's abandoned outdoor adventure for shopping, jewelry and fashion. She's also computer savvy; her new fans -- other tween girls -- will be able to plug into virtual Dora playtime on a new site."

My Baby's Breath

I am all abuzz today having eaten my way through several boxes of my preferred proof of love. Yes, above all else even diamonds and long stem roses I adore sweets. I actually said to my dearest "You know I will measure how much you love me by how big the heart box is" as fair warning and in true blue fashion he took heed. I'm sure the check out person thought he had a harem. In return I bought him a healthy dose of irony; black liquorice. I will not even stand in the same room with him while he munches them and if he accidentally breathes in my general direction on the same day he's eaten a piece I react as if he's eaten a pot of cabbage and burped right on me. Ella loves the vile little squares and likes to chomp and smack them as close as she can get to me because when your five years old things that make your mother almost hurl are hilarious. Hope your Valentines Day was sweet too.

If you could get away with it would you?

If the answer is yes, then I'm pretty sure you shouldn't be in charge of anything especially regulatory authorities, corporations, elected positions, or the safety of our food. I mean really! I can barely sleep knowing I swept a dustpan full of dog hair under the couch, I don't know how people can blatantly know they may be selling the public trust for the low low cost of a few lives and still sleep at night. My only guess is that it starts small, with a slippery slope of little white lies that don't harm anyone, moving onto cheating a little here and there and finally building to a psychopathic frenzy of soul selling proportions. Because you really can't go from "You look fine in those jeans" to "that peanut butter is fine, go ahead and ship it" without a guitar string snapping somewhere in your head.

Throwing what?

Ella: I need a glass of juice please and you said you'd get it for me.

Me: I know, but the phone rang.

Ella: Don't you throw your buts at me!

Three Movies

I saw The Tale of Despereaux over the weekend too. At the hotel we ordered it up one night and we turned the hotel heat up to 73*, ate crumbly snacks on top if the big bed in our jammies and immersed ourselves in the dramatic story revolving around soup. I've been thinking of soup since and can't stand it anymore, I will be making soup tonight. I'm not sure what kind yet, I just know I want it to have carrots and celery. Soup making must always start with the chopping of carrots and celery, I can't explain it just must.

Last night, because it was date night and Dan's pick and it was in the five buck club we saw Underworld: Rise of the Lycan. Still all I can think of when I hear the title is horrible green moss growing intensely onto the heads of sleeping vampires and Rise of the Lichen may have been a better movie, it has comic possibilities, but really I didn't find myself bored at all during the vampire vs warewolf special effect extravaganza. It had a brisk pace and semi engaging story but still, I wouldn't call it good in any sort of way. It was all very soap opera and I didn't care about any of the characters nor did I know which side I should be rooting for as I have no secret goth allegiance to vampires or werewolves, now had their been valkyries or amazons I would have totally rooted for them.

I am dying to see Slum Dog Millionaire. Hopefully when it's my pick it'll still be out.

SRDD Spring Schedule 2009

Why I Have No Jeans that Fit

Tracy and I filmed a commercial over the weekend for Confessions of a Shopaholic at the mall. All we had to do was confess a shopping related embarrassment in front of a giant shopping bag and sign a little form that said our 15 second clip could be used in a commercial and we were paid in free 100% cotton bags. I stood in front of the camera holding a bag from the Land of Nod and a bag from Galt Toys and confessed that despite my best efforts, I spend too much money on kiddo. I know this because I own two pair of blue jeans for myself and she has three dressers full. As we walked away I filled the new bag with Ella's stuff.

I balanced this out by taking my family to an Nepalese restaurant called the Curry Hut for dinner where Ella didn't care for anything on the menu. Ella entertained herself by coloring on the paper table cloth and munching flat bread, with a few hesitant bites of jasmine rice and a glass of milk while Dan and I delighted in a dinner of "Minced Chicken mixed with Nepali spices and steamed inside the wheat bread served with Nepali achaar - Chicken marinated in mint and yogurt, cooked in a tandoor - and pieces of lamb cooked in a rich cashew nut-based gravy with cream, butter and dry fruit."

Good Fun

I had a great weekend, swimming, playing games, shopping, eating out and looking at mummies and dinosaur bones. To round out the whole weekend, on the way home, we stopped at the movies and saw Coraline in 3-D which I found an eerily quiet movie. I really couldn't say if it was lack of soundtrack, muted foley effects or where we sat in the theater (it was packed and the "score seats" were reserved for a giant birthday party) but it was odd. At times the whole movie seemed muted, the colors, the sound, the acting, the theme, all understated and grey, melencholy, typical Burtonesque. It was riveting, only slightly less scary than I expected and the added dimension was savored through every single credit that rolled.

Duh Mom.

Ella: Sponge Bob always wears a tie.

Me: Yeah, that Sponge Bob is a pretty sharp guy.

Ella: No, he's a pretty spongy guy!

***
Also:
Driving Student Fails Driving Test 771 Times

Other Blogs

Spent 20 minutes reading this blog today and added it to my blog roll.

Short Holiday

Today I am planning a long weekend in The City. We go every year for a game convention and while Dan is up to his elbows in Napoleonics and dice I take Ella downtown for some skyscraping culture. Last year we looked at dolphins, this year we'll look at dinosaur bones. We'll also manage to hit the mall that I can't afford to play on the giant indoor fiberglass tree and marvel at three thousand dollar turtle necks, while hoarding free samples and signing up for catalogues.

The fiberglass tree play area is always an odd experience as most of the children are there with young hot trophy moms who are worried their children will get germs from touching the other kids, dads in suits who are worried they will loose the kid in the fenced in area guarded by 30 other hovering people, or a nanny that only looks up when she hears crying and yells to her charge half in Hungarian/Russian/Spanish and half English that he/she better be nice! Ella is always bewildered here; she approaches other children with the usual "Hi I'm Ella, I'm five, wanna play?" and is either completely ignored or put on hold while the other child, caught off guard, looks towards their mom/dad/nanny to see what they are supposed to do next. My conclusion - rich people are weird.

Every year we also go have sushi at this little place up the road, but this year we can get great sushi close to home so I'm determined to find something better. Steaks are also out as we have the best butchers close to home and I'd rather spend a chunk of money on a good cut of meat and take it home to cook it the way I love it, slathered in garlic and beer. So I'm leaning towards the Bank Lane Bistro but I think we'd better go for the lunch instead of the dinner as it's all alacarte and wonderful and I will want to order it all (lavender infused creme brule!) I'm telling you, the menus read like poetry.

Ella is looking forward to room service. We always have points left on a credit card that we can spend at this hotel but not on the actual room so we'll order room service every morning. She doesn't remember doing this last year and the idea that hot bacon and pancakes can be brought to you in bed is making her crazy with anticipation. Plus that's the only thing we've told her about the trip so far, the rest will be a surprise. I am looking forward to pretending I'm at the beach. I'll be barefoot and poolside with David Sedaris, while Ella doggy paddles herself silly in a chlorined life jacket. Oh who am I kidding, I'm looking forward to the whole thing!

Savory with a Dash of Sour and a Pinch of Salt.

I'm finally reading "Me Talk Pretty One Day" and though I'd like to devour it, I've been savoring it reading one essay a day. I've decided David Sedaris is my generation's Woody Allen; subversive, snarky, appealing in a very odd way and brilliantly funny. I realized today I could munch up the rest of the book this afternoon and promptly run out to buy the next three, finishing "When You're Engulfed in Flames" sometime this weekend, but I've been on such a good book fast that I'd hate to purge on David Sedaris only to end up barfing up his stories all scrambled together in a heap of sarcasm. So I am sticking with the original plan, one essay a day fortified with some healthy NYT, and National Geographic to round it out. Next up a historical fiction novel and then some poetry a pal sent me. Perhaps my reading list will start to tatse good again.

I'd Rather Deal with Falling Rocks

Not Funny