Archive for February, 2012
Hmmmm, an aspirin between the knees. Never thought of that.
I love the idea that we might feel better about what we eat if we can look at the animal’s picture first, and know his name and his level of happiness. I also love that the waitress refuses to “speak to that level of knowledge.”
It’s come to my attention that the Hulu version only be watched in the U.S. so here is a copy from youtube.
642 hits so far today, wait, now it’s 669, mostly by people apparently looking for a picture of J-Lo’s nipple. In fact, this seems not to be that rare of a sighting; maybe you should just keep paying attention and someday you, too, can claim that you saw it, along with most of the modern Western world. We can all say we knew you when.
I apologize to my faithful readers, if you feel that you are being unfairly scolded. A good opportunity to apply the “if the shoe fits, wear it” adage.
Wouldn’t we all be better off if we spent more time thinking/worrying/doing something about/empathizing over things like politics, religion, parenthood, marriage, life, womanhood; things that matter I imagine, no, hope, to many in the world?
I don’t have a picture of J-Lo’s nipple, and I’m not going to look for one, although nothing’s stopping you from trying here.
I thought, briefly, about putting up a picture of one of mine, but that would just be weird, and wrong, and weirdly wrong, and I imagine there are at least 15 of you out there who just heaved a giant sigh of relief. (The rest of you, please just keep whatever you’re thinking to yourself thankyouverymuch.)
You’ll have to content yourself with this nipple-like picture of the halo effect caused by a lunar eclipse.
Besides, a nipple’s a nipple. What possible difference could it make?
Ew. Just made the mistake of looking to see if I could find a picture of a “generic” nipple to post.
Now I have to go poke my eyes out.
Tomorrow we shall return to serious topics, like Rick Santorum saying that the separation of church and state makes him feel sick to his stomach. Take THAT Tea Partiers.
Okay, first of all, I was really curious as to why I had 51 hits in one hour last night when the usual hourly rate is more around 10-20. Then I discovered that J-Lo apparently had a wardrobe malfunction, and I had a post about J-Lo from a couple New Years Eve’s ago. Really? This is all you have to do? Look for a picture of J-Lo’s nipple? I’m betting it looks pretty much like anybody else’s.
ANYway. . .
…I have just wasted 30 minutes I can’t get back looking at pictures from the Red Carpet “ceremony” (seriously? it’s a ceremony now?) so I thought I would waste a few more commenting on them.
But first a question. How much Botox is too much? The bottom half of Billy Crystal’s face looked 60+, but his forehead NEVER moved. Weird.
For the sake of fairness/disclosure, all of the photos below (unless otherwise noted) were taken from theenvelope.latimes.com.
In her pre-skeleton days she used to be beautiful.
I just don’t get it. Why does this repeatedly happen, where there seems to be no such thing as “thin enough”?
Speaking of skeletons. . .
Stand up girl! You’re at the Oscars!
“Princess Charlene and Prince Albert”
Enough of the ridiculous, now for the “Stunning”:
(I am a little curious about the back.)
I know I “promised” at some point to post a soup recipe every Sunday, but we didn’t make soup today.
I did make some kick-ass oatmeal bread recipe yesterday, though. I’ll put the recipe at the end.
Just some observations for now.
1. Veterinarians should seriously reconsider using anesthesia for any surgical procedures involving dogs. I’m thinking peanut butter in a Kong is sufficient.
2. Apparently, the line between political candidates and organizations known as “PACs” is getting blurry, casting doubt on whether it is actually possible that the one hand does not know what the other hand is doing.
3. Many of the leaders in our government seem to think that the U.S. offers some kind of moral compass; an ideal for the rest of the world to strive for.
This, in retaliation for American soldiers openly burning copies of the Koran. (If, as they say, they contained “messages,” couldn’t they have been burned maybe a little more discretely? How would Americans react to Islamists burning Bibles? Sheesh — a little respect wouldn’t hurt anybody.)
This, depicting American soldiers urinating on slain foes.
Or how about this, where our rights of due process etc., etc., seem only to apply to American citizens.
Wouldn’t our arguments about human rights have a little more validity if we applied them to, well, humanity?
4. Mod*el: perfect example: an excellent example that deserves to be imitated
At the risk of repeating myself.
The last thing I want my daughter to be “modeling” herself after. How about, instead,
5. Started using the “Fitness Tracker” app on Friday. Decided that it was appropriate for me to compare how much I’m actually eating to how much I think I’m eating. It’s been very revealing. You do “earn” calories by exercising, so that’s a good motivation, but most of the calorie information comes from prepared foods and we prepare most of our food ourselves, so that’s a bit of a bother.
Have also discovered that higher-than-expected percentage of my daily caloric intake is in the form of alcohol. That sounds bad. Mostly wine with dinner, but I do enjoy a little tippet of cognac (for medicinal purposes) as well, especially on these cold February nights. Am thinking I can balance it out by walking further or doing more vigorous yoga. Not sure what it says about me that I need to think twice about whether I want cheese on my chili or that 2nd glass of wine. . .
Anyway, according to the tracker, if every day is like yesterday I will have lost 8 lbs in 5 weeks. We’ll see.
Oatmeal Bread (Husband claims this is the best bread he has ever eaten. He might just be being nice, but still.)
Prepare 1.5 c. of steel cut oats (dry) for breakfast, following instructions on the can.
Leave 2 c. of prepared oats in a separate bowl. Eat the rest (giving the lion’s share to Husband, who likes porridge a heck of a lot more than you do), sprinkled with dried cranberries and with maple syrup and soymilk.
Soften 1 pkg. of yeast in 1/3 c. warm water.
When the 2 c. of remaining oatmeal has cooled, with the flat paddle on the mixer and the mixer running, add 3 T. canola oil, 1/2 c. brown sugar, 2 tsp. salt, and the yeast/water mixture.
Add 2 c. whole wheat flour; keep beating until the dough begins to get very stringy/stretchy.
Switch to the dough hook; add another 2 c. of unbleached flour.
Allow the dough to knead until completely smooth — 5-7 minutes.
Add another scant 1/2 c. of unbleached flour and let knead just until flour completely incorporated.
Allow to raise in a buttered bowl, punching down twice.
Divide and place in 2 buttered 8″ bread pans.
Allow to raise again (this is a good time to take a nap, or a “nap,” whichever you prefer).
Bake for 35 minutes at 350˚, 325˚ if using a convection oven.
Cool out of pans on a wire rack. If you can’t wait and must slice it while hot, turn it on its side first.
Really, really good.
Just discovered that there’s a website called “alexa” that can track the traffic to your blog, so I thought I’d go see what I could see.
Here’s what I saw:
How many blogs do you think there are out there, anyway?
It also showed this graph:
(I’m including the category “Blatant Self Promotion.” Is that ironic?) (Or just sarcastic?)
I love the particular quiet
of a deeply snowy day
and that the swirl you met
at the top of the driveway
kept you home today
so that when I awoke you
were just returning to bed
and we lounged there until
almost 10, you snoring
while I read my book
(you know, the one I like
but wish I could have edited)
and Hannah came to the
door occasionally to see
if we were going to ever
We made apple cinnamon crepes
and bacon and drank cups and
cups of cappuccino
and then went back to bed
knees to knees, forehead to forehead
and slept some more
until I snuck out in my thick socks
and drove to get the oil changed
in my car.
I only slid a little at the bottom
of the driveway, and then navigated
down slushed roads as trees dropped
snowballs on me in their passive-agressive
way and the dog in the Kia waved
its tail at me as I passed.
I sit, now, in the “quiet” room,
waiting for new oil and something
called a PCV valve
and ponder the important questions:
whether I can take another nap when I get home,
what I should do with the next twenty
years of my professional life,
what to make for dinner.
This is way cool. No pun intended. Okay it was, just a little.