Yesterday she sent me this message:
Little Sister: i can't wait until i have my phd
and then i can say "I HAVE MY PHD>I CAN BACK A CAR OUT OF A GARAGE"
Sounds like a plan! As long as she's taken this course.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Driver's Ed Required to Graduate
My sister's visiting our parents on her summer break from her doctoral program. Parents are wonderful, because no matter how old and distinguished we become, they still remember having to wipe our asses and blow our noses.
Yesterday she sent me this message:
Little Sister: i can't wait until i have my phd
Sounds like a plan! As long as she's taken this course.
Yesterday she sent me this message:
Little Sister: i can't wait until i have my phd
Sounds like a plan! As long as she's taken this course.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Air Horn Behavior Plan
In a bitter moment several years ago, I invented the air horn behavior plan* to address aggravating team meeting comments and other times that staff drop the ball.
Someone must have leaked it to xkcd. And there went my research article.
Maybe I can figure out a way to fit it into the Methods section.
*A replication of an earlier study in referee whistle techniques.
Someone must have leaked it to xkcd. And there went my research article.
Maybe I can figure out a way to fit it into the Methods section.
*A replication of an earlier study in referee whistle techniques.
Friday, June 18, 2010
CashHack: fun in the recession
One benefit of marrying the love child of Punky Brewster and Lucille Ball is the high frequency of hilarious events, some absurd, some merely entertaining, that occur in our home on a daily basis, for little to no money.
Having fun on little to no money is always important to us, even as we supposedly ease out of this recession, because what we do to make money ever threatens to take over our lives and fill them with worry, which is technically unbillable time, though I'm working on it.
We have developed a catalog of highly accessible blood-pressure lowering activities that require minimal preparation and no cost. The quality of "you had to be there"ism reduces over time as repetition of said activities increases one's ability to embrace the funny and be less completely uptight.
1. Fake French
Living in a (nominally) bilingual nation offers many opportunities to sound out les signage francophone using les phonetics anglaise. As past students of American high school French, we of course are fluent in a) the names of fruits and vegetables (pamplemousse, mon petit?) and b) specific statements for specific circumstances, such as a traffic jam, flat tire, and public demonstration. We feel at liberty to make up the rest.
2. Radio roulette
You know this one: on long drives, you put the radio on scan and try to name the artist before the other passengers. For some reason in our car you have to add "my nickel!" to the end of your play. I think we copied this from my cousin, but any logic behind it completely eludes us now.
(We just invented another car game while sitting in an hour+ border line-up over the long weekend. It started as a variation on the geography game where you name a place that starts with the last letter of the previous place. The rules were dumbed down considerably due to the lateness of the hour and our mind-numbing boredom remaining in the line until they consisted of the following: name all the things you can think of in a category. We chose "restaurant franchises." It got us all the way home.)
3. The long con
More accurately termed "the mid-sized con," but who says that? This typically involves a little planning but can arise spontaneously when inspired by materials at hand, such as chopsticks at the sushi restaurant that one party places in her ears while waiting for the second party to look up from her menu. The joy in creating the long con lies in never knowing exactly how long it will take for the reveal.
As a word nerd, I enjoy changing Microsoft Office's autocorrect to swap my target's name or other commonly used information for something witty (you know, like "Hot Buns"). When I want to switch it up, I change my name in her phone contacts to "Your Amazing Wife."
The LWW most frequently operates in the realm of physical comedy. Several Fridays ago I came home to find her and a friend dressed in pajamas and camel backs. Super bonus points were earned when I returned an hour later than expected, and they gamely waited out the delay, being total pros.
White Spot, Ruby Tuesday's, TGI Friday's, Chili's, Wendy's, Arby's, Earl's, Cactus Club, Starbucks, Tim Horton's, Coldstone Creamery, Marble Slab, Shark Club -- challenge! Not a franchise! -- Dairy Queen, Quizno's, Subway, Macaroni Grill, Outback Steakhouse, Sizzler, Pizza Hut, Boston Chicken, Boston Market, Boston Pizza, California Pizza Kitchen...
Having fun on little to no money is always important to us, even as we supposedly ease out of this recession, because what we do to make money ever threatens to take over our lives and fill them with worry, which is technically unbillable time, though I'm working on it.
We have developed a catalog of highly accessible blood-pressure lowering activities that require minimal preparation and no cost. The quality of "you had to be there"ism reduces over time as repetition of said activities increases one's ability to embrace the funny and be less completely uptight.
1. Fake French
Living in a (nominally) bilingual nation offers many opportunities to sound out les signage francophone using les phonetics anglaise. As past students of American high school French, we of course are fluent in a) the names of fruits and vegetables (pamplemousse, mon petit?) and b) specific statements for specific circumstances, such as a traffic jam, flat tire, and public demonstration. We feel at liberty to make up the rest.
2. Radio roulette
You know this one: on long drives, you put the radio on scan and try to name the artist before the other passengers. For some reason in our car you have to add "my nickel!" to the end of your play. I think we copied this from my cousin, but any logic behind it completely eludes us now.
3. The long con
More accurately termed "the mid-sized con," but who says that? This typically involves a little planning but can arise spontaneously when inspired by materials at hand, such as chopsticks at the sushi restaurant that one party places in her ears while waiting for the second party to look up from her menu. The joy in creating the long con lies in never knowing exactly how long it will take for the reveal.
As a word nerd, I enjoy changing Microsoft Office's autocorrect to swap my target's name or other commonly used information for something witty (you know, like "Hot Buns"). When I want to switch it up, I change my name in her phone contacts to "Your Amazing Wife."
The LWW most frequently operates in the realm of physical comedy. Several Fridays ago I came home to find her and a friend dressed in pajamas and camel backs. Super bonus points were earned when I returned an hour later than expected, and they gamely waited out the delay, being total pros.
White Spot, Ruby Tuesday's, TGI Friday's, Chili's, Wendy's, Arby's, Earl's, Cactus Club, Starbucks, Tim Horton's, Coldstone Creamery, Marble Slab, Shark Club -- challenge! Not a franchise! -- Dairy Queen, Quizno's, Subway, Macaroni Grill, Outback Steakhouse, Sizzler, Pizza Hut, Boston Chicken, Boston Market, Boston Pizza, California Pizza Kitchen...
Friday, June 11, 2010
TimeHack: Chick nugget salad
I mentioned before that my claim to culinary fame within these four apartment walls is my ability to make a semi-balanced dinner in fifteen minutes or less. The best weapon in my meal plan arsenal is the chick nugget salad, prepare-able in the time it takes the nuggets to bake.
Chick nugget salad requires one treat ingredient. We (I -- the LWW would eat fake meats daily if the fridge permitted) try not to eat too many overly prepared foods, but we still manage to go through two or three packages of fake nuggets per month. It's a treat, and we love it, and as they say back home, we deserve.
To make:
1. Put your nuggets in the oven as the package directs. You can risk the microwave on this one, but I've never had that result in anything other than a soggy, unevenly cooked, albeit quicker version of what you could have made in the oven. Kick the heat up or turn on the broiler if you really need to save time.
2. Wash and chop lettuce, distributing into bowls. My mother hosed me throughout childhood and made me rip individual lettuce leaves into bite-sized pieces. I'm sure we could argue that the irregular edges provide more surface area for dressing, but the palate on this uneducated rube doesn't notice a difference. Ditto the whole make-it-in-one-bowl, serve-in-others concept. Just divide as you go, it's faster on prep and clean up and you don't risk giving one person dressed lettuce and the other all the goodies from the bottom of the bowl.
3. Chop all other ingredients that could reasonably go in the salad. I am a big fan of fruit in salad, so apples and red onion are my go-tos at this point. I might tolerate a cucumber, though really not my fave. Nuts can be fun. (Go ahead, quote me.) I would forgo watery items like tomatoes, as I haven't found they hold up to the more pungent ingredients in this spicy, salty, sour, sweet dish. But you do what you want.
4. Make dressing. Again, I have few rules about what "should" get included in a dressing. I (and the body of culinary knowledge) recommend that it contain an acid, a sweet, an oil, and something to make it exciting. For example, cider vinegar, maple syrup, olive oil, and dijon mustard. Or balsamic, raspberry jam, grapeseed oil, and hummus. (Ooh, sexy, right?) Salt, pepper, and chili sauce (every meal's friend) to taste. Mix it in a jar to make shaking easier and store excess, or, if seriously pressed for time, throw everything right on the salads and blend in the bowl. You really can do this without hurting your results.
5. Nuggets out of oven, chop, and serve. Soak up any extra flavor (i.e., apple and onion juice) left on your board by chopping the hot nuggets wherever you did the other ingredients.
TV Night Considerations:
This whole process is reliably over and done with before the first commercial break, or, for multitaskers, you can prep everything at one commercial break and assemble and serve at the next. Sweet juice.
To accommodate both limited counter space and a loyal partner/sous chef who likes to participate, chopping and bartending* should happen on one side of the kitchen and oven and dressing prep on the other. This prevents busy, tired, hungry people from crossing the kitchen with knives.
We eat this salad at least twice a week and can usually get 2.5-3 family meals out of a bag of nuggets. Other proteins (tempeh, tofu, chickpeas) are okay in a pinch, when the organic grocery is out of nuggets or we're in a fit of budget-consciousness (beans are included in the original recipe from The Great Depression). Be careful with your tempehs, some varieties are as flavorful as packing peanuts and just will not be coaxed out of it, no matter the marinade.
I'm no enemy of slow food (especially when cooked by someone else), and I do get a big feeling of accomplishment from completing a recipe that requires twenty-five ingredients, three stages, two appliances, and four hours. That's on a rainy Sunday when the MTV line-up has already looped from the morning. And I get just as much sense of achievement from creating something quick and tasty that won't leave anyone feeling like the morning after leaving the party with that loser you'll need three more months to get over.
*We also delineated the important role of "atmosphere" in dinner prep.
Chick nugget salad requires one treat ingredient. We (I -- the LWW would eat fake meats daily if the fridge permitted) try not to eat too many overly prepared foods, but we still manage to go through two or three packages of fake nuggets per month. It's a treat, and we love it, and as they say back home, we deserve.
To make:
1. Put your nuggets in the oven as the package directs. You can risk the microwave on this one, but I've never had that result in anything other than a soggy, unevenly cooked, albeit quicker version of what you could have made in the oven. Kick the heat up or turn on the broiler if you really need to save time.
2. Wash and chop lettuce, distributing into bowls. My mother hosed me throughout childhood and made me rip individual lettuce leaves into bite-sized pieces. I'm sure we could argue that the irregular edges provide more surface area for dressing, but the palate on this uneducated rube doesn't notice a difference. Ditto the whole make-it-in-one-bowl, serve-in-others concept. Just divide as you go, it's faster on prep and clean up and you don't risk giving one person dressed lettuce and the other all the goodies from the bottom of the bowl.
3. Chop all other ingredients that could reasonably go in the salad. I am a big fan of fruit in salad, so apples and red onion are my go-tos at this point. I might tolerate a cucumber, though really not my fave. Nuts can be fun. (Go ahead, quote me.) I would forgo watery items like tomatoes, as I haven't found they hold up to the more pungent ingredients in this spicy, salty, sour, sweet dish. But you do what you want.
4. Make dressing. Again, I have few rules about what "should" get included in a dressing. I (and the body of culinary knowledge) recommend that it contain an acid, a sweet, an oil, and something to make it exciting. For example, cider vinegar, maple syrup, olive oil, and dijon mustard. Or balsamic, raspberry jam, grapeseed oil, and hummus. (Ooh, sexy, right?) Salt, pepper, and chili sauce (every meal's friend) to taste. Mix it in a jar to make shaking easier and store excess, or, if seriously pressed for time, throw everything right on the salads and blend in the bowl. You really can do this without hurting your results.
5. Nuggets out of oven, chop, and serve. Soak up any extra flavor (i.e., apple and onion juice) left on your board by chopping the hot nuggets wherever you did the other ingredients.
TV Night Considerations:
This whole process is reliably over and done with before the first commercial break, or, for multitaskers, you can prep everything at one commercial break and assemble and serve at the next. Sweet juice.
To accommodate both limited counter space and a loyal partner/sous chef who likes to participate, chopping and bartending* should happen on one side of the kitchen and oven and dressing prep on the other. This prevents busy, tired, hungry people from crossing the kitchen with knives.
We eat this salad at least twice a week and can usually get 2.5-3 family meals out of a bag of nuggets. Other proteins (tempeh, tofu, chickpeas) are okay in a pinch, when the organic grocery is out of nuggets or we're in a fit of budget-consciousness (beans are included in the original recipe from The Great Depression). Be careful with your tempehs, some varieties are as flavorful as packing peanuts and just will not be coaxed out of it, no matter the marinade.
I'm no enemy of slow food (especially when cooked by someone else), and I do get a big feeling of accomplishment from completing a recipe that requires twenty-five ingredients, three stages, two appliances, and four hours. That's on a rainy Sunday when the MTV line-up has already looped from the morning. And I get just as much sense of achievement from creating something quick and tasty that won't leave anyone feeling like the morning after leaving the party with that loser you'll need three more months to get over.
Cheers, dears!
*We also delineated the important role of "atmosphere" in dinner prep.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Cake Bess
In an effort to spend more time doing activities that feel good (as opposed to feel bad but make money, which gets a lot of my time these days), I purchased a new cookbook, breaking a long-time rule about not buying cookbooks because I never use them. At our house, I am the weekday chef, the one who can make a more-or-less balanced dinner in 15 minutes or less. Cookbooks are the LWW's domain, since she has the patience and obedience to put up with ingredients like arrowroot powder, the world's least measurable substance. I am too cheap and oppositional to follow a recipe to the letter, unwilling to buy things like coconut extract, which comes in handy about once a decade. But I digress.
This weekend I got my hands on a book that I have secretly coveted for a while, Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World (pictured below) to honor the LWW's return from Nerdtastic Annual ABA Conference, San Antonio, TX. I chose Banana Chocolate Cupcakes with Peanut Buttercream frosting as the inaugural recipe, knowing her love all things fruity, even though I tend to think fruit in a desert is a waste of space.
You may judge the results for yourself.
Pre-icing. Isa tells you to stir melted preserves and chocolate bits into the top of each cupcake before baking, a classy touch. Makes the final product taste deliciously like a banana pb&j.
Welcome home, babe!
(One final note, though I am on the fence about including this photo, since I kind of think the unsprinkled tops look like cow pies -- there's no hiding the color of peanut butter icing. My -- and maybe your -- cheap trick for icing is to fill a ziplock with the stuff and snip off the end. Pow, instant pastry bag! Shine up the old brown shoes, etc.)
This weekend I got my hands on a book that I have secretly coveted for a while, Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World (pictured below) to honor the LWW's return from Nerdtastic Annual ABA Conference, San Antonio, TX. I chose Banana Chocolate Cupcakes with Peanut Buttercream frosting as the inaugural recipe, knowing her love all things fruity, even though I tend to think fruit in a desert is a waste of space.
You may judge the results for yourself.
Pre-icing. Isa tells you to stir melted preserves and chocolate bits into the top of each cupcake before baking, a classy touch. Makes the final product taste deliciously like a banana pb&j.
(One final note, though I am on the fence about including this photo, since I kind of think the unsprinkled tops look like cow pies -- there's no hiding the color of peanut butter icing. My -- and maybe your -- cheap trick for icing is to fill a ziplock with the stuff and snip off the end. Pow, instant pastry bag! Shine up the old brown shoes, etc.)
Sunday, May 30, 2010
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