You know what I hate making?  Snickerdoodles.  Lewis Black does this bit about candy corn, and how every year he tries it, thinking, oh yeah, it looks so delicious and festive, and then he remembers how awful they are.  That is how I feel about making snickerdoodles.  They taste good, but they are a giant pain in the ass and now I will have cinnamon and sugar under my fingernails for a week.

Master Q is under the impression that one must be of German heritage to make snickerdoodles correctly, and apparently my German background “came through” for me, because according to him the cookies are perfect.  So, cool, I hate to deprive him of my baking superpowers, plus he has done a fuckton of work around the house this week, so he gets snickerdoodles.

Maybe you want to make some too, so in the tradition of one of my favorite recipes (thank you, V), here is what I learned this time around (actual recipe here):

Mix the butter and sugar together.  Add the eggs (both at the same time is fine, they don’t know any better) and mix.  Add flour, cream of tartar, baking soda, and salt and mix one more time.  Hell, you could probably mix the eggs, butter, and sugar all at once, I don’t care.

Put the dough in the fridge overnight, and in the freezer for an hour or so before you’re ready to bake.  You want the dough as cold as you can get it without making it actually frozen.

Mix cinnamon and sugar in a small bowl.  You don’t have to measure it, just put it in there.  But MamaQ, what if I want to buy just enough sugar and cinnamon to make this correctly?  Are you kidding me?  Do you not already have those things at your house?  You probably shouldn’t be baking.  Go to Mrs. Fields.

Here is where things get stupid and you will begin to regret your decision to make the damn things.  The best way I can think of is to make like Henry Ford and do this assembly line-style.

Grease a large platter or lay out a big sheet of waxed paper.  Get your hands as cold as possible and start rolling the dough into one inch balls (ha) and put them on the platter/waxed paper.  DON’T let the balls touch (haha).  They will stick together like fucking superglue.  Every so often, your hands will get too warm and the dough will stick to them.  Go wash your hands in cold water and come back.  If you have really hot hands maybe you could soak them in a bowl of ice water every few balls (also fun in the bedroom!).  Or you could make literally any other kind of cookie.

Once all the balls are rolled, roll them in cinnamon sugar and put them back on the platter/waxed paper.  If you’re making a double batch, you will probably want to put the balls back in the fridge, so forget the waxed paper nonsense and put them on a plate.  It’s ok if the balls touch now.

The recipe says to bake them on an ungreased cookie sheet, but that is bullshit because any time I’ve tried that they stick and your cookie sheet gets all nasty looking.  Save yourself some time and buy one of those silicone baking sheets.  (Pro tip: you don’t even have to wash the cookie sheet if you use one of these!  Do wash the baking sheet, don’t be gross.)  Bake at 400 degrees till they are just golden (12 minutes in my oven) and cool on the cookie sheet for two minutes.  Cool the rest of the way on a cookie sheet.  The recipe says it takes 8-10 minutes but either the recipe is a goddamn liar or I don’t know how big an inch is.

Anyway, one batch makes about 36 cookies, but as previously discussed I may have made the cookies too big, in which case maybe you’ll get more, I don’t know your life.

One week ago, Tuesday, October 25^th, I found out I was pregnant.  It was a gorgeous, warm fall day.  Too warm for fall, really, but I’m not complaining.  But let’s back up, shall we?

I had a totally spontaneous, no hormones needed period at the beginning of September.  After a month and a half of pretty consistent efforts to make a baby, by mid-October I hadn’t had another period, so I thought maybe, just maybe, it worked this time.  Though to be honest I wasn’t very confident after so many disappointments.  But I got up early and hurried to take a pregnancy test before Andy left for work.

I almost couldn’t believe it, but the little plus sign popped up, and just like that, I was pregnant.  I told Andy he’d better come in and take a look at it, and his face just lit up.  All this guy wants is a baby and I finally gave him one.  Guess my uterus isn’t a barren wasteland after all.

I took a couple pictures of the test, and also a picture of the two of us.  Someday I’ll show the picture to my kid and they will be surprised at the happy, scared, tired looking kids that were their parents.

I don’t feel pregnant yet.  Which is fine, really – I’ve heard too many terrible things that pregnancy does to your body to be excited about “feeling” pregnant.  It hasn’t really sunk in, either…aside from reminding myself that no, you cannot have that beer (or that cup of coffee), I kind of forget that I’m pregnant at all.  (I did run out at lunch and buy another test and take it in the bathroom at work.  It was positive too.  I took a picture on my phone and sent it to Andy.)

More honesty: I had gone so long wanting a baby but being disappointed time after time, that I knew I couldn’t keep wanting a baby that bad without driving myself crazy.  I kept telling myself that it would be just fine if Andy and I never had kids, that we could have (already had, really) a great life and we could have a great time with all that money we’d have if we didn’t spend it on kids.  Now that I’m finally pregnant, I have to switch mental gears again, and it’s taking a little bit.  Andy is super excited and I feel bad not matching his excitement, but I imagine it will come.

Speaking of Andy’s, he’s been wonderful.  He keeps asking me if he can rub my feet or get me anything, and he cleaned up the kitchen after dinner so I wouldn’t have to.  He keeps telling me if I need anything to tell him, but I think I’m going to save that card for a little later, which pregnancy is actually preventing me from doing things.

I did kind of have a little panic attack in the car on the way home yesterday though…for the first time, I actually felt old.  I’ve heard a lot of my friends complain about feeling old, but in my opinion 28 or 29 is still pretty young.  But suddenly I had this image in my head of me 19 years from now watching my kid go off to college, and I was terrified that the time would go by that fast.   Maybe it won’t.  Tell me it won’t…or at least tell me I’ll enjoy it.  I’ve enjoyed the ride so far.

So welcome to my new little baby.  I promise to give you a good home while you’re living inside me, and I’ll do my best to keep you happy and healthy once you come out.  You’re going to be so smart, and charming, and (not that it matters, of course) also pretty good looking.  I’ll try to back all that up by raising you to be thoughtful, kind, and generous.  Welcome to the world, kiddo – it’s far from perfect, but I’ll do my best to make it perfect for you.  Pops and I love you already.  Good luck and Godspeed, little one.

Love,

Mama

you know how I know I like my job?

sometimes I like to take naps at work in my car.  during my lunch break, of course.  especially on gorgeous days like today.  since I started carpooling with Master Q, I haven’t been able to do that, because he has the car at his work.  but today, I drove myself to work.  it was a beautiful day, not too hot, not too cool, perfect weather for a lunchtime nap.  and as I drove around the parking garage looking for an open spot, I saw the perfect space.  on the second of three levels, so my car would be in the shade all day, all the way at the end of an aisle, with a car only on one side of me and a wall on the other.  nice and quiet, with no one to walk by and think “what is up with that lady is she sleeping in her car?!”

so I parked, and as I walked inside, I reassured my tired self that if I could just get through for a few hours I could rest.  I got some coffee, buckled down, and got to work.

but today I was too busy.  not only was I too busy to go outside, I was so busy I forgot all about it.

and as I walked up to my car at the end of eight and one half straight hours of work, I thought “oh yeah!  my perfect space!  and it went to waste…”

and I wasn’t even mad.

that’s how I know I like my job.

I am a total cheapskate.  if you know me, you know this.  I’m always convinced I can get something for just a little bit cheaper.  online shopping has really been the death of me.  the hours I spend comparison shopping online, if put to a more productive task, would probably be worth much more than the amount I save on any given item.  sometimes I spend so long shopping for something that I lose interest in it altogether.  dumb!  I know!  but I can’t help it!  if you knew my dad you’d understand.

anyway, I told you that story to tell you this one: Master Q and I have been counting our calories, and this is apparently the perfect diet for me…because now I have a calorie “budget” each day.  see, I get to eat between 1200-1500 calories per day.  I have a fruit smoothie for breakfast and usually a sandwich with lowfat cheese and lunchmeat for lunch, so by dinnertime I still have 700-1000 calories to “spend” on dinner.  because I am such a cheapskate, though, I keep trying to game the system.  some crazy thoughts I’ve had regarding dinner:

-a bag of potato chips is like 1000 calories…you could eat an entire bag of chips for dinner!  (this has actually happened.  not since I started the diet.  I don’t actually recommend it.)

-or, no, you could have half a bag of chips and half of a container of ben and jerry’s!

-if you don’t eat all day you can have all the movie theatre popcorn you want for dinner (note: I actually tried this one.  pro tip: coffee has no calories and caffeine is an appetite suppressant)

-no, ok, settle down.  you should eat real food.  like a small order of fried rice and ice cream.  yes.  now you’re talking reasonable.

of course, I don’t keep chips or ice cream in the house (see above parenthetical), but by the end of all my debating on how best to spend my calories, I don’t feel like going out to get dinner.  so I’m stuck with what’s in the house, like this new brand of stirfry veggies I bought that for NO GOOD REASON smells like soap. 

gross.  looks like I’m spending my calories on rum.  try to act surprised, for the children’s sake.

postscript: seriously, though, I have lost weight, so score one for the cheapskates.

So, Master Q is working late this week and I’ve been home all by myself.  Well, Daisy is here too, but she’s not much for conversation.  Of course I miss him, but it has been kind of nice having the house to myself…plus apparently I’m way more productive when I’m home alone.  All these things happened!:

-Master Q cleaned the entire house the other day, and put all my stuff that was laying all over the house on the table where I keep my purse.  that is a lot of stuff.  I put it all away, polished the table, and arranged some candles my mom gave me on it.  I’d show you a picture but why don’t you just look at it next time you’re over?

-Clean kitchen!: empty dishwasher, dirty dishes in dishwasher, clean dishes in the dish drainer, clean kitchen table, and an empty recycle bin!

-All my sweaters are folded up and put away in the closet of the bedroom of broken dreams.  Ha!  That’s terrible.  But really, there’s a busted treadmill (which didn’t get used much anyway) in there, and it was also supposed to be a nursery and we see how THAT’S going

-Used some of that fancy new job money to pay the bills.  Actually, it’s not been payday there yet so technically I used museum money.  Can you believe they actually paid me for my vacation days?  Awesome.

-My dresser had a busted-up drawer, which is unsurprising due to it being older than I am (it was my dad’s when he was a kid).  I nailed it back together, which turned out to be way more difficult than I was anticipating.  It was previously held together with staples, which I couldn’t manage to get out, but which prevented the drawer from fitting back together exactly right.  It is mostly right angles again and holds things…mission accomplished.

-I actually put away all my laundry, instead of my usual m.o. of leaving it in the basket and drying a couple things every morning to get out the wrinkles.  I am one classy dame.  I also folded a load of Master Q’s laundry.  as mentioned above, he cleaned the entire house.  It was the least (literally, the least) I could do.

lexihalaby:

loveyourchaos:

tiresome:milktrees:

Sapiosexual (n): a person who is sexually attracted to intelligence in others.
Sapiosexual (adj): of, or relating to, finding intellectual stimulation sexually arousing.

(via ellib)

1. 1.  I am willing to expose myself to as much radiation as is necessary to turn into Emma Frost.  I can’t find a picture to show you, but she can turn herself into a sparkly diamond creature.  Also she can read minds.
2. They should have called this movie Why You So Mean, Kevin Bacon: Your Eyes Are So Pretty.
3. I know I’m supposed to like Professor X because he is Captain Forgiveness and totally intellectual and whatnot, but it’s not doing it for me.  Magneto, on the other hand, has about 17 different anger issues and wears a stupid-looking helmet, and I love it.  I don’t think it’s the helmet.
4. Despite the fact that she looks 15, Mystique is actually 20, so it is completely ok to stare at her chest the entire movie.  You don’t have to feel bad about it.

Sunday afternoon we celebrated Master Q’s cousin’s daughter’s first birthday.  (Follow that one ok?)  She (and her mother…especially her mother) are very into Disney, so the party was Minnie Mouse themed, which meant the guest of honor had a Minnie Mouse pink satin dress on.  Totes adorbs.  It was way out in IL’Fallon, though, so we had to get up kinda early to get there (almost) on time.  We had a good time, but a 1-year-old’s birthday is really about the kid and their parents - not that she isn’t an adorable baby, but if you want to interact with her, you have to wait out her grandmothers and aunts and such.  Being that they work in shifts and I was working on 5 hours of sleep, that wasn’t happening  :)  Back home we went to lay on the couch and watch TV, until I went to bed at 9.

Monday I had a second interview for the new job that by now you probably know (spoiler alert) I have.  After the interview I had lunch with three of my lady friends that work there.  I’m really excited to have friends at work - not just people I get along with, but people I actually hang out with outside of work.  It’s been a long time since I’ve worked somewhere like that, which is probably more a reflection on me…but anyway, it’s still nice.

Monday night I went out with E (need a nickname for you too, buddy), Master Q, C, and one of Q’s friends to the Old Millstream Inn on Main Street in St. Charles.  They have a lovely brick patio, but unfortunately the weather here does not own a calendar and we had to move inside before too long.  The Millstream makes their own spicy vodka by soaking hot peppers in a giant pitcher of vodka; it is wicked good, but it will light you up.  It will also clear out your sinuses if you have a cold like I did at the time.

Tuesday I woke up feeling nasty: my throat hurt, I couldn’t breathe through my nose, and waking up every two hours the night before to soothe the aforementioned throat didn’t help.  I didn’t think anyone at work would be interested in my germs, so I called in sick.  Besides, it was our third wedding anniversary, which is a holiday in my book.

I spent the morning and a little of the afternoon sleeping, and eventually I felt better and got up.  Our plan was to celebrate with a nice dinner, and while I was deciding where to go, my phone rang: it was my new company calling to offer me the job!  It felt so good to have someone want to hire me; I’ve been on a few interviews over the past few years, but never been offered a position…after a while it starts to make you think, maybe it’s me?  The soul-sucking work of retail doesn’t do much for one’s mindset either.

BUT I do not have to worry about that anymore.  I am so excited for this new job; the people I know are great and I hear almost everyone else is nice too, I get my weekends back, it’s a significant raise, and (maybe most importantly) it’s a job I feel proud to tell people about.  I could go on and on about the disadvantages of my current (but almost over!) job, but if you know me you’ve heard the rants, and if you don’t, you probably don’t want to hear them any more than my friends did.

Master Q and I celebrated our anniversary with dinner at Landry’s at Union Station.  We had our first meal there as a married couple the morning after we were married.  We went back for our first anniversary, and I would have liked to go last year, but Master Q was in China for grad school, and I was in New Orleans with my ladyfriends, which was almost as good.  :)  It was lovely to go out and spend time with my wonderful husband.  We spent a lot of time talking about our future - he was genuinely excited for me about the new job, it is so nice to have a husband that is so supportive and caring.  I could write a lot about him, but maybe I’ll just give him his own post sometime so you can skip it if you don’t want to read all that mushy stuff.

It’s late, which means it’s time to listen to a couple Tom Petty songs and go to sleep.  Sweet dreams.

Not last weekend, but two weekends ago I had one of the best weekends EVER.  (If you’re playing the drinking game to this post, please drink every time you see the word “weekend.”)  Friday night Master Q’s grad school class had a graduation ceremony.  (Not the entire university’s class, just the program he was in.)  I thought it might be a little boring, but the speakers all kept their remarks short.  Master Q had the longest speech at about four minutes, but since it was also the funniest I didn’t mind.

Afterward the ceremony some of his classmates and their spouses went to Humphrey’s and had some drinks.  I thought I was looking pretty smokin’ in my wrap dress (major cleavage) and new shoes, and I guess some guys at the bar thought so too, because they made sure to tell me so.  (Seriously, those are like the best shoes, they are crazy comfortable AND sexy.  They appear to be on sale so go get some.)

Saturday Master Q and I did some of our favorite things.  I had a Groupon to G&W’s Sausage Company (slogan: you can’t beat our meat.) so we went and bought lots of awesome sausages and other meat products.  This place gives you Busch beer while you’re waiting in line, which is great because I feel all shopping would be better if done under the influence.  Go swimsuit shopping sometime while you’re a little off - much less stressful.

After that we went to Soulard Market, another place where you can drink and shop simultaneously.  We bought lots of delicious produce, a few more meat items, eggs, and some plants for my window boxes.  I got a basil plant, some parsley plants, and two Mardi Gras colored flowering plants.  I am going to try to remember to water them, I promise.

Next we went to Friar Tuck’s liquor store so Master Q could pick up supplies for his grad school party that evening.  Wouldn’t you know it, they were having a wine tasting, so again I got to drink and shop.  Among the bounteous harvest of liquor we returned home with was a tiny bottle of Tres Leches, which is my new favoritest thing ever.  In fact, I think I will go get some right now.  Excuse me.

Much better.  Anyway, after that we went home to doll ourselves up for that evening’s festivities.  Some of Master Q’s classmates rented a limo for the night, so I took him to the hotel where they were meeting, and then headed to V’s work’s trivia night.

Trivia nights are my favorite kind of places to be: I can show off my knowledge of all kinds of semi-useless facts, I can drink, and I can eat all sorts of junk food.  While everyone brought delicious things, C’s pretzels and cheese dip were the best.  I am kind of still thinking about those pretzels.  (C, I need a nickname for you.)

Trivs ended and I joined Master Q and his classmates at Charlie Gitto’s on the Hill.  I wished I was hungry, but I had just had all that wonderful junk food, so I drank a beer while everyone else had a late dinner.  Our next stop was Bar Louie in the CWE, where I had a to-die-for “strawberry fizz” (vodka, razzmatazz, strawberry puree, champagne).  We walked over to Dressel’s, but they were closed, and at a loss for destinations, we told the limo guy to drive around Forest Park.  It got late, and the limo was going to turn into a…spaghetti squash (I guess), so they dropped Q and I and another couple back off at Charlie Gitto’s.  They live fairly close to us, so I drove them home, and then Q and I went home and went to bed.  At like 4 a.m.  We party ok for an old married couple.