Look ma! I'm on TV! On the Internet! In a Newspaper!

So, a very enterprising young student writer for the Arizona Daily Star, Samantha Munsey, interviewed me about thrifting after reading my Hello Giggles stuff, Adventures in Thrifting. 

She does a near-magical job making me appear coherent, seeing as how I had driven back to Tucson from Illinois two days before and was literally leaving for Russia an hour after the interview. I'm hot, disheveled, wearing crooked glasses and say "Um," and "Like," many, many times (Toast Masters would not be proud).

I also hunch my shoulders like WHOA! though I comfort myself with the notion that I was very tired and stressed and the slouching (BECAUSE OF A MEDICAL CONDITION) gets worse when I'm tired and stressed. 

Anyway, fabulous editing job Samantha! Seriously, I'm impressed, because I know how much I rambled and wandered around and how loud and crowded it was in there. There's also this really magical moment where I say, "I'm wearing a pink fluffy dress!" and the sleeve of said dress falls off my sloop-y shoulders. 

But I was prepared, because after the interview I was so worried I looked deranged during the interview that I practiced talking into my iPhone camera in weird and embarrassing ways (lots of British and Southern accents and weird faces) and forced myself to watch them, to prepare for the worst.

But honestly, it was really fun to do the interview, Samantha Munsey was a peach, a professional peach, and I think she did an amazing job putting the video together. 

Meagan-y Meagan Eats!

So tonight I was determined to cook with ingredients we actually had in the house (as opposed to my usual "I can totally make this! I have all the ingredients...oh. I guess I need to go out and get star anise. And shitake mushrooms. And bok choy.  But other than that, I can totally just whip it together. Right after I figure out how to use the food processor. Oh, and coriander seeds. Need those too. Will ground coriander do? Man." (At this point, I go out to the store for the first of several trips I will make that evening).


So because we had some avocados, I made guacamole with this recipe. 
I followed the recipe exactly, 'cept I didn't use the entire half onion. No matter how finely I diced the onions, I didn't want the gauc to get onion-overwhelm and I wasn't going to take on the Herculean task of putting the food processor together. (SHUT UP I HAVE POOR SPATIAL REASONING SKILLS IT'S MEAN TO LAUGH AT DISABLED PEOPLE). So I used about a quarter of the onion. 

The recipe says to leave the gauc out for an hour, which I side-eyed. Wouldn't it go brown? Luckily, my roommate has evolved and accurate opinions about how to cover guacamole with cling-wrap, so it worked out. 


Basically, the technique involves making sure the cling-wrap is down OVER the guacamole. Allow me to demonstrate with the guac leftovers:

Just try to get in, oxygen. I fucking dare you.

Anyway, my roomie put on some brown rice in her rice-maker/vegetable steamer (no, I don't know how to use that, either. I SAID SHUT IT), and I heated the rest of the onion in a pot with some olive oil for five minutes, added some garlic, and heated two cans of black beans (using about half a cup of the bean broth) with lots of cumin, salt, pepper, lemon-pepper, and a little cayenne (also about five minutes).


Put rice, beans, and guacamole together with some salsa and what do you have? You basically have a bean bowl from Chipotle! Okay, it's also a staple meal from many cultures. But forgive me if my point of reference is a Chipotle bean bowl. 


My roomie was out when the food was all ready, so I ate before her. When I heard her come in, I waited for a few minutes, then snuck into the kitchen to manipulate a compliment out of her:

"This is so good!" she said, upon seeing me.


"I know," I said, humbly, then added: "When I was eating it, I thought it was almost as good a Chipotle bean bowl."


"I think it's better," she said. 


"I DO TOO!" I shrieked. "I JUST DIDN'T WANT TO SAY THAT FIRST!" 


I really was proud, you guys. Okay, so I used a recipe for a guacamole. (Um, it's also possible that back in the day I looked at this as a guide for making rice and beans. SHUT IT). And I didn't exactly think up the idea for a meal of rice, beans, and guacamole by myself. But...but...I didn't have to do extra shopping! And it was really easy! And it was really good! The recipe for guacamole is especially a keeper. 


So it spurred me to share some more of my vegan cooking of late. 

I didn't take pictures of tonight's meal, as I seem to have fallen out of the habit of obsessively photographing everything I cook. Maybe...because...I cook...more regularly...? So it's not as epic of an event? Or maybe because I'm not so great at photographing food and it never looks as good in the pictures as I want it to? 


But, anywhoodle, I've got a backlog of vegan recipes. As I've shared before, I'm currently a meagan, so I can go out and enjoy a burger every once in a while, but I cook vegan when I cook. 

Cooking vegan, I've decided, is awesome. Mexican food, particularly, is a bit of a revelation. 

Narcissism Will Save You When You Forget Things

I was invited to two parties last night: this is a situation that sounds awesome in theory, but is stressful in actuality. Inevitably a) at the first party, I'm worried I'll be too late for the next party/if it's worth it to leave and go to the next party; b) at the second party, I'm worried that I left the first party too early and seemed rude. You always end up wishing you could switch the order you attended them in, or that you'd stayed at one party longer than you did. 

There was an added challenge to the this one, as one party was a costume party (come dressed as a character from a Quentin Tarantino movie) and one wasn't. So I had to manage two outfits. And clearly the costume party had to come second -- so at least that decision was pretty simple. 


I once tried to be Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction for Halloween, because the basic costume (white dress shirt and black leggings) is so freakin' easy.

However, I left wig-buying till the last minute and all the black wigs were sold out at the costume store -- I could only find a long red wig. So I didn't look much like Mia Wallace at all. I was like some weird Little Mermaid/Mia Wallace hybrid.

This time, I decided to redeem myself and actually buy a black wig. Plus, I figured the Mia Wallace costume was easy to change into; I'd wear leggings under a skirt for the first party, and bring the wig and white dress shirt in the car. Then I could pop on the wig and change easily in the car, simply shedding the skirt and sliding on the dress shirt. It was kind of a fun idea -- changing identities mid-evening! Like a spy or something! 

Because I'm a big ol' narcissist, I decided to document both costumes before I left for the evening:

Look at me! I look normal and hopefully respectable! 

Boom! Secret identity!

Halloween Shenanigans: Strange Clouds

So I actually put in some effort into Halloween this year -- me and Bad Cholla spent an afternoon at Savers creating Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding costumes. 

For those wondering if the costumes were a little outdated (Jason: "Timely. What you going to be next year? Judge Ito?"), they were originally conceived of for a roller skating party. But then--ironically--the Tonya Harding to my Nancy Kerrigan suffered an injury, and we didn't go roller skating. While we eventually wore the costumes on Actual Halloween and I think they were successful, when I told people, "Originally, they were gonna be worn roller skating," the person always went from "polite about costumes" to "Oh! That WOULD HAVE been really clever!" So the true epic awesomeness potential was never fully unlocked, but I think we still did good. See?

That's so...Theatrical

Got various news in theater end of things. I'm very lucky to have become one of the theater reviewers for the Tucson Weekly. 

And...this weekend The Gonzo Group Theater is doing a reading of my play, "The Most Incredible Thing" about fairy tale writer Hans Christian Andersen.

There's a reading Saturday, October 15th at 7:30 pm at the Baroque Room in lowertown St. Paul. And a reading Sunday, October 16th at 11:00 am at Golden's Deli (also in lowertown St. Paul). 

For your entertainment, here's Danny Kaye as Hans Christian Andersen: 

Birthday things!

So this is most definitely an edition of "really old pictures of food" since my birthday was back in early September. How old did I turn? Well, the lady at the grocery story today said, "You an old lady! I thought you were so much younger!" when looking at my I.D. So I hope that answers your question. [Side note: I think people just forget that late twenties looks a lot like mid twenties? Your face doesn't collapse right before your thirtieth birthday. I dunno -- I've just been getting a lot of that "YOU LOOK SO YOUNG" recently and while I'd like to think it's my excellent skin care regime, I don't think so...I've always looked pretty much the age I am. I think people just expect my age to look different, or something? Or maybe I just lack gravitas? I'm also a teacher -- a pseudo-college-professor of sorts -- and I don't think that helps. People expect college professors to look old, I guess? I was clearing out my classroom the other day while another class entered and a student said, 'Are you the teacher?...I mean, did you just get out of undergrad or something? I'm sorry, you just look so young' and then when I told him my actual age HE LOOKED EMBARRASSED. However, the ultimate cluster of age awkwardness occurred when my orthodontist's assistant figured out I taught at the same college her daughter attended -- the struggle to reconcile the fact that the surly often-late-for-appointments girl who didn't wear her retainer was responsible for teaching her offspring played out in beautiful conflict across her face. Yes, adults get orthodontia, too. Suck it.]

Anywhoodle, what was I talking about? Oh, yes, how mature I am. I decided to have a birthday party and invite a motley, multi-generational crew, most of whom showed up, which was was awesome. I decided that the theme for my birthday would be "Laura's Blue and White Wonder bread Birthday." I was asked what a "blue and white" party was, and I replied that those are my favorite colors. Nothing more complicated than that. I also decided to make recipes from this book. Why? Because it exists, that's why. 

Reader Request Winner: The Time That the Apple Company Accused Me of Peeing on My Computer

Okay, so I nagged y'all via poll and you voted. The winner was probably predetermined because "The Time That the Apple Company Accused Me of Peeing on my Computer" has the phrases "pee" and "Apple company" and "accused" in it.

Let's begin.

Part I: In Which We Introduce the $1200 bottle of Three-Buck Chuck.

We Have A Winner!

Okay, so "The Time that the Apple Company Accused Me of Peeing on My Computer" won decisively, which was to be expected--I mean, the title is just so weird.

I think the only reason I was hesitant to post that story was because I'd told that story in person so many times. If you were a friend of mine who lived in Minneapolis around 2007-2008, you not only had to live through stages of the story with me, but you got to hear the story, like, more times than you probably wanted to. But but but! There are others out there who haven't heard it! AND SO I WILL TELL AGAIN AND HOPEFULLY TELL WELL.

But I want to put a decent amount of energy into the post (yes, the story involves urine--well, no, actually, the story involves no urine that I knew about, ONLY THE ACCUSATION OF URINE) but to give you the full context would probably take awhile, although the punchline is sort of spoiled in the title.

And right now I am sick. "I'll baby-sit your sick child!" I said. "I never get sick!" I said. "Okay, I'm sick, I can still do stuff!" I said. "I'll just take some cold medicine!" I said. "I can still drink!" I said.

This cold or whatever it is--it's the Terminator of colds. It's the Terminator paparazzi robots in Britney Spear's "I Wanna Go" video:

I aggregate Writing is Hard stuff

Becky Tuch, of The Review Review (to which I contribute; you know, just FULL DISCLOSURE and everythin') recently wrote a post called "Writing. It's Hard." I really liked it. In the comments, I wrote "I'm share this on facebook, blog, etc. IMMEDIATELY"--apparently so excited over the post that I typo'd (I meant to write, "IMMA SHARE this").

Anyway, as a wriiiiiiter I of course have a special fondness for "Writing. It's hard" posts/articles, because they make one feel a little less alone/crazy. So I thought I'd aggregate of a few of my recent and/or easily accessible via web favorites.

1. "Writing. It's hard."  This is, like, so true for me! Except for the part about "For years, you've been getting up at six-thirty." HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

2. "Peter Bognanni writes a blog post." Sample quote: "But then I couldn’t help thinking about how I actually work when I write. And how random and strange and totally un-process-like it is in every sense."

3. pamie, "Eyes on the Prize." Sample quote:

"One time I had gotten out of the shower having finally figured out an ending to a chapter, and the only thing I had to write on was an ATM receipt that was in the pocket of the clothes I’d been wearing before I got into the shower, and the only implement I had was my index finger, dipped in my own blood from a cut I’d given my shin with my razor in the shower.

It had better be the best damn chapter in the novel, because I wrote it in shinblood."

Sort of gives a new meaning to that oft-repeated quote about "Writing is easy. You just sit down at a typewriter and open a vein." In this case, "Writing is easy. You just cut yourself shaving, get struck with a good idea, and write out said idea on an ATM receipt in shinblood."

4. Solipsism.  

Speaking of typewriters. 

5. Referenced previously, Zadie Smith "That Crafty Feeling."

6. I had to. Yes, I have a problem. Even though this clip doesn't have my favorite lines: "If I'd known it was real, I would have done another pass" and "If I were a psychic, do you think I'd be writing? Writing is hard." (No worries: I transcribed that on my facebook page.)

7. Holy crap, I almost forgot this! 

8. ETA: continuing in the funny vein, Jason showed me this.

For the record

So, I've solicited YOUSE GUYS opinions on what my next blog post should be. Here's what I can gather about what folks seems interested in, so far:

Here are the most popular posts, in order of popularity. Unsurprisingly, the post Pamela Ribon tweeted comes in at a clear number one. The others are a little more puzzling.

Um, I dunno?

Blogger -- after briefly deciding that my Cee-Lo/Fiddy Cent post "didn't exist" -- has now decided that I posted it yesterday, instead of a month ago. 

I don't know. I'm sorry.

I've been fiddling with the blog -- the layout, the fonts, etc. -- so this is apparently the consequence. 

I eloquently, cyber-ly shrug.

50 Cent Gets it Right

Way back in the summer of 2010 (we sure wore some embarrassing outfits back then, huh?), sjculver sent me a link to Cee-Lo Green's "Fuck You" -- in the spirit of, "Hey, if you're in a bad mood, this will cheer you up!" She even reviewed the song and her feelings about it here.

Of course, we all know how this story ends: Cee-Lo releases a cleaned-up version of the song called "Forget You"; Gwyneth Paltrow covers the song on Glee; they perform it at the Grammys; Cee-Loo Green goes on to be a judge on NBC's The Voice*. A law is passed, whereby radio stations are required to play "Forget You" every ten minutes. The song is still a top-selling song on iTunes.

*I'm super-aware of this, as I watch NBC's Thursday comedy night, because I am a pretentious twenty-something. NBC knows that I'm sneaky and that I fast-forward through the commercials, so they even pop ads for The Voice at the bottom of the screen, so that I cannot possibly avoid them -- and even if you're as sneaky and accurate with the fast-forward as possible, you're still going to catch a little bit of a last ad before the show comes back, which is inevitably for The Voice. I feel like writing NBC some kind of letter saying, 'I respect how important advertising is [er, obviously, I have adsense on my own blog and I'm going to see how it works and how I feel about it; the jury is still out] and that you as a network are hurting right now and need ratings; I'm a total fan of your comedy programs and want you to have other, highly rated shows to make more money for you so that Parks and Recreation can stay on. But I am never going to watch The Voice. This is no offense to the show; I'm sure it's fine. But reality-show talent contests are maybe the one form of debased entertainment I don't get into. No judgment! It's just not my thing! And it's never going to be! So can I sign some kind of contract attesting to the fact that I've seen X number of ads and they have had no effect on me, and that I promise to be a good consumer and watch or buy something else? And then maybe I don't have to see the judges of The Voice giving my the "V" sign on the bottom of my screen?'

Anyway, on The Colbert Report, Colbert questioned Cee-Lo about the lyrics of "Forget You", asking some questions I'd wondered, too. Is the song addressing the man who has taken the "girl you love" away from you ("I see you driving 'round town with the girl I love and I'm like, 'Forget You' ") because it seems to change from that initial form of address to addressing the actual object of the love herself ("I guess he's an X-box and I'm more like Atari, but the way you play your game ain't fair"). Anyway, Cee-lo didn't seem to have the answers to these questions, explaining that the song wasn't in any way autobiographical (so who it is addressing is sort of a moot point).

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Cee Lo Green
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor & Satire Blog Video Archive

And indeed Bruno Mars came out and said that he and Cee-Lo Green wrote the song in two hours, which goes a long way to explain the incoherence in the point of view in the song and the fact that Cee-Lo Green doesn't seem particularly emotionally attached the lyrics.

So, I get that we're not supposed to take the lyrics very seriously. We're supposed to shout "FUCK YOU!" at the top of our lungs and enjoy the consonance of "I'm sorry I don't own a Ferrari" with the saucy twist of "But that don't mean I can't get you there!"

But the lyrics still bug.

I'm a Simple girl

My mom said she found my last blog "excessively moralistic." Keep in my mind that my mother is a professional moralist who believes in moral realism. So a moralist told me I was being excessively moralistic.

The last blog is also very long; I know! I put some stuff behind a jump and cleaned it up a bit and cut a little. So hopefully it's a little easier to read.

I also tagged all the posts -- so if for some reason you want to read only The Nervous Chef entries, you can now do so easily.

And I changed the blog layout to -- wait for it -- "SIMPLE."

Ha ha! Bonus Post! Signs of Life, Part III

In town:

We could all use more of this:

Want to wear a bear?
Yeah, I wear a bear:
That's a bear-skin rug, my friends. And relax: that bear has been dead for a very, very long time. And you know what? I'm with Stephen Colbert on this one: bears are vicious killers and it's us or them. I don't invite bears to THE COTTAGE.

And thanks to Jason, here are some search keywords that lead to my blog:

Blogger eats things! And they are not as delicious as my cupcakes.

So, my last post (a biting analysis of Cee-Lo vs. Fifty Cent) wasn't here when I checked my blog this morning. I was told that the page "didn't exist." Now it is back. I don't understand this at all, but I'm happy to go with it. Well, not "happy to go with it." "Too lazy to investigate and/or fix and happy that for once strategy of doing nothing worked out."

Since a fairly continuous stream of people seem to find my blog through googling the phrase, "How to put icing inside of cupcakes" or "how to frost big cupcakes" (because of this post), I'd like to say that 1) I made cupcakes and put icing inside of them today! 2) Too busy to post a how-to post right now, but I will; 3) This picture probably reveals how the procedure was done but, don't worry, I'll walk you through it later, anyway:

I have icing inside of me!

Oh, and the ads on the side of my blog are now pimping for a Cabbage Soup Diet. Which was apparently popular back in the day and is eerily similar to the Magical Leek Soup. Further proof that the Magical Leek Soup is a freaking crash diet.

New Celebrity Endorses Leek-y Cauldron Diet

My heart can't take this, you guys.

Pamie (Pamela Ribon) commented on my blog. She tweeted the fug girls about me, who tweeted her back. She's following Yogurt on Tumblr (I said I'd get that link in every time).

Because everyone knows that the best way to express love is through money, I'm buying this right away. And then this.

So, to recap, not only has all this happened, but: Jennifer Egan is friends with me on facebook. I also know someone who knows someone who is her cousin.

I know someone who knows someone in The Decemberists.

I know someone who knows someone who knows Richard Siken.

Please don't act like you're not impressed. You're just embarrassing yourself.

Oh, and if that weren't enough, you know that roller derby I went to? I went with her and him. Yeah, that's right. ROLLER DERBY.

So now that I'm a celebrity, you're going to have start treating me accordingly.

But being a celebrity comes with certain responsibilities, such as looking your best. So I thought I'd share some tips.

First of all, no one goes on diets anymore. Diets are bad; we're supposed to enjoy and savor food. Like the Europeans do. I'm technically half-European, but I'm half-British and, for complicated historical reasons, people don't treat you as a gastronomical expert if you're British. When you try to serve them delicious things like marmite on toast, they get all squirrel-ly with you. (Sigh -- you Yanks. Marmite is delicious, y'all).

But if you're French, people listen to what you have to say about food, which is where this comes in. It's not a "diet" you see -- it's a commitment to wellness and savoring food and making things that taste good and are good for you. I made this in the past from her website, and I liked it. And in the process, I discovered this: the leek soup kick-off weekend.

So, you make this soup out of leeks (called "the magical leek soup") and you live on it for a weekend:

Leeks are a mild diuretic, and 48 hours or so of leek soup would provide immediate results to jump-start the recasting. For me, it was the start of a lifelong commitment to wellness as well as the beginning of my appreciation, my love, of leeks, about which there is much more to say. It is a trick I still use from time to time; do try it the first weekend.

But it's not a diet, y'all! Because it tastes delicious:

Both versions are so good, and an adventure for most palates, that you will have a very hard time seeing them as prison rations. Especially if these tastes are new to you, jot your impressions of flavor and fragrance in your journal. In time, this exercise will intensify your pleasures, and you may want to keep a regular diary of your experiences gastronomiques

Things I Like Collide

My "blog list" is entirely blogs-by-friends-that-I-like; I've thought occasionally of putting up blogs and sites that are not written by friends (but rather by people who convince me through their blogging that if we were ever to meet in real life, we would inevitably be best friends).

Recently, there have been some stirrings in the world-of-blogs-I-read. There's hyperbole and a half: I introduced a friend to it and then took the opportunity to catch up. I laughed so hard that my abs actually hurt; I can thus recommend it not only as a blog but as an ab work out (it's so popular at this point, tho', it really doesn't need my wee little recommendation). My laughter at this blog has also been so intense that ON TWO SEPARATE OCCASIONS while I was reading it, someone came in from the other room, genuinely concerned that I was hysterically crying.

Anyway, friend-I-introduced-to-it was a fan and I was like "I know! She's so great! Why she doesn't have a book is beyond me!" Then the next morning, hyperbole and a half announced that she was, indeed, coming out with a book.

[Insert joke here about how now is the appropriate time to ask the universe for a million dollars, etc.]

I've also read pamie (comedy writer Pamela Ribon) for many years. I've even bought two of her books, as a thank-you what-not for all the free content she's provided me.

Anyway, I went to the Tucson Roller Derby championships the other day (bear with me, THIS IS ACTUALLY AN EXCELLENT SEGUE JUST WAIT). Anyway, Roller Derby has recently come into popular consciousness because of Whip It, which I have not seen (but plan to!) and round about the same time, Pamela Ribon came out with a book, Going in Circles, which is a fictionalized account of her experiences with roller derby and divorce (which I have not read, but plan to!)

So I went to roller derby, which reminded me of pamie, so I checked it, and she has a really excellent piece about being a female writer in comedy, sparked by pilot/tv staffing season and Tina Fey's Bossypants (which I have read parts of).

Then today, I checked jezebel, a site I frequently read, and the first post is all about female writers in TV, and it quotes Pamie's post.

So. Do I:

(1) Have my finger right on the beating heart of popular feminist consciousness;

(2) Have clairvoyant abilities;

or

(3) Way too much time on my hands to surf the Internet.

Next, I expect Go Fug Yourself to write a piece on Supernatural that references Marcel Proust and romance novels and all of my obsessions will come together in an explosion of sparkles and rainbows (Go Fug Yourself is also pretty good at addressing my obsessions, from their eerily-similar-to-mine preoccupation with Brenda on the original 90210 [edited to add: I cannot find this on their new, advertisement-heavy layout! Boo!] to their Britney Spears Monologues.)

So, I guess I'll put these blogs on my blog list, seeing as how there's clearly a psychic link there. I should put a permanent link to Bossypants up there, too, seeing as how I've mentioned it so much, despite only having read sections. Oh! Oh! I can also link to Yogurt for the billionth time! [Note: Billion = four]. Because her latest is about a female-written comedy! Ha ha! (Let's see if I can figure out a way to link to her in every post).

Finally, have some pictures of roller derby:

Reviews, Literary; Failings, Personal

I've written this and this for The Review Review, a website that reviews, well, reviews. Literary reviews, that is. And lately they've gotten some pretty sweet media attention, from the LA Times, and The motherfucking New Yorker: mostly for this piece by Lynne Barrett, which is succinct advice to aspiring submitters to the literary journals.

The Review Review editor/creator, Becky Tuch, sent all reviewers and interviewers (which included me) a "thank you" email for their contributions after the website received this attention. This of course sent me into a guilt spiral, as the last assignment they gave me was one at which I failed parlously (dude, Blogger, PARLOUSLY is so a word! Go Away, squiggly red lines!). I was sent this issue of Ploughshares to review and failed utterly (oh, so THAT word is okay with you, Blogger?) to do so.

I failed utterly because the stories included in this fiction issue included a story by Charles Baxter, my onetime professor and thesis adviser, and a story by Ethan Rutherford, my onetime MFA cohort. It was edited by Jim Shepard, who wrote a really good introduction to this particular Ploughshares issue about "weirdness" and fiction writing and once said cool things about weirdness and Yogurt's writing when he visited the University of Minnesota and gave a talk, which I meant to go to but forgot what day it was.

Anyway, I was overcome with anxiety about reviewing an issue to which I had several--admittedly, some of them somewhat tenuous--connections. So I employed the tactic easily recognized by all Passive-Aggressives everywhere: I emailed Charlie, Ethan, and Becky and told them about the connection and asked them if they had a problem with it? To which they all sensibly replied that no, of course not, as long as I put a FULL DISCLOSURE: I KNOW SOME OF THESE FOLKS thing on the review.

What I was hoping for, in true Passive-Aggressive fashion, was for someone else to read my mind and say: "No, no, I have a problem with it," thus absolving me of all responsibility.

Just About to Lose My Mind, Honey, Honey

Really? Really? First this and now this? :

Of course, I discovered these on a shopping expedition during which I bought (and only bought):

1) Diet coke with Splenda

2) Diet coke with Lime

3) Red Vines

Ze judgments, I should not be making zem!

ETA: The above is not entirely true. I also bought a bottle of wine.

Accidentally Racist Cupcake Arrangement?

The disadvantage to boasting about your fabu skillz/love for baking things is that sometimes you can get asked to bake things. Cupcakes were requested of me, meaning that there was a push-pull between narcissism and laziness:

Narcissism: I love praise and attention! It feels like love!

Laziness: But I'm so laaaaaazzzzzzy.

But desire to please won out, so I made cupcakes! And put them on my awesome stand. I realized afterwards that the way I had arranged them was inadvertently a little racist:

Why are the minority white cupcakes at the TOP of the stand, towering over the majority chocolate cupcakes? Am I trying to visually illustrate apartheid through baked goods?

In truth, I just had some leftover vanilla frosting to use up and made a new batch of chocolate.

Because I'm determined to become a complete cliche/caricature of myself, I made the cupcakes while listening to Lady Gaga. After complete indifference/annoyance when it came to "Born This Way" and general irritation at the Catholic guilt/spirituality/whatever-whatever she is going through right now, I am completely in love with "Judas." I'm gonna have to buy the album when it comes out, aren't I? Damnit, Gaga, I cannot afford this! I caved and bought Britney's Femme Fatale (which is awesome) but her dead eyes and catatonic dancing make me feel weird about it! I don't want another pop diva album that I have ambivalent feelings about right now, please.

Excuse me while I go listen to "Judas" one more time.