Ultimately everyone blogs to have tangible evidence that they are doing ok.
However, today I have another motive, I want to brag.
This is a beach I go to every Friday: 
My glorious summer has left me with an appetite for grilled steak, chocolate cake, margaritas and movie snacks. If school and work weren’t busy churning my life back into a proper schedule, I would die in an indulgent haze.
Shame!
In honor of the confessional nature of blogging, I’m compiling a list of shameful things I’ve been enjoying lately. Sooooooo
Bless me internet masses for I have enjoyed:
- The Nanny. I pretty much love everything about this extremely 90s TV show. That fact that it’s vaguely morally representable and definitely a sitcom however firmly couch it as a shame thing.
- Bar Trivia at Stubby’s on Tuesday night. Many people enjoy this thing shame free, but most of those people are bros, who enjoy the inherently bro-y nature of bar trivia. Stubby’s may be the broest bar that ever slapped on a pair of plaid short and started playing cornhole to the beat of a Crap Matthew’s Suck song. Yet somehow I go every Tuesday night, have a great time, then have to downplay my enjoyment of it while making small talk with the guy working the Mr. Señor’s walk up taco stand.
- Mormon Mommy/Lady Blogs…more on that later.
- Gwyneth Paltrow’s cookbook. How could a woman who despite having actual star power is playing a bit character on Glee and who looks like a dully smiling skeleton produce a cookbook of actual use? I don’t know, but she did. The pictures are lovely, the recipes inventive yet practical, and the forward is written by Mario Batali. It doesn’t get more legit than that.
- The Real Housewives of Somewhere Nicer Than You Live Franchise. It’s like a modern day comedy of errors+gladiatorial game+pink fizzy boxed wine all wrapped into one hour of trainwreck television.
As you’ve probably guessed from the above video the gap year project has an end in sight! I’m officially attending UWM’s Library and Information Science program in the fall. I may add another masters program into the mix next year, further living the dream of being able to configure my mortarboards into a towering confection of over education, like this…
…but for now I’m button burstingly pleased about becoming a Madam Librarian!
Oh, Heeey…
I’ve neglected my blog shamefully. If I ran into ProjectGapYear at the grocery store I’d give it an awkward smile, say “Hey,” softly, then try to look very interested in the display of off brand cereal bags in front of me (“Hmmm Mr. Mocha Esquires’ Choco Bits, or Eduardo The Positive Sports Puma’s Iced Disks…” I may mutter to add credibility.)
Rather than ignoring the blatant blog bilking, I plan to (wo)man up, do better, and post a slurry of posts today.
I like you Val Kilmer
Basically due to raging strep, the back of my throat looks like the final disturbing moments of a John Carpenter movie, very red, slimy, and swelling. Thankfully, Milwaukee is currently experiencing a winterweatherpocalypse, forcing all its dwellers to retreat to their couches and cover themselves with enough blankets to smother a practiced bedouin. I’ve decided to ignore the snow steadily raising to eye level, heal myself with heavy duty antibiotics and turning my thoughts to bright baubles.
Facebook demands we divulge them in order to sell to us better, we pick our friends based on them and Julie Andrews was inspired to belt out a very jaunty tune that most mistake for a Christmas song about them, yes, I am speaking of Favorite Things. Just as a personal pet peeve can’t be rude people, one cannot have financial stability as one of her favorite things. Favorite things are almost always deeply emotional, very specific, and seemingly inconsequential. It’s more than just an appreciation of something noteworthy, or a statement of preference, it’s a noun that smacks your right between the eyes and punches out the word, “FAVORITE!” in black old timey typewriter type across your brain box. See that? I just reveled that typewriters are some of my favorite things, unfortunately, now you think I’m a quirky girl, and that is one of my least favorite things :(.
While tastes change, favorite things rarely do. For instance I still hold a deep formed-in-childhood love of pink sparky wallets, those extra fat holiday shaped Reese’s cups, big killer animal movies, and Val Kilmer. While all those things may seem self explanatory, I do feel a need to justify Val, which I can do in two words: Real Genius.
I mean, come on, presuperpuff Val (I blame his current appearance on his constant contact with old Marlon Brando during the filming of The Island of Dr. Moreau,) being unspeakably charming while telling nerdy kids to take ownership of their own smarts and give prattish exploiters the royal fist. Who knows? Perhaps you find yourself shuffling the collective work of Tom Stoppard, faux fur coats, and bubble gum candy canes around to make room for this 80s gem on your mental favorite things shelf.
A lovely illustration of everyday life around the apartment
Long Overdue Thanksgiving Post
This Thanksgiving Andrew and I invited our immediate families to join us in Milwaukee for
the annual duel with possible salmonella. Andrew’s lil‘ sister & dad, plus Thomas & my sister-in-law braved Chicago traffic, while my parents blew in on the first, “wintery mix” storm off the year. Andrew’s wonderful mother June could not join us due to a bunch of busted pipes, which was the only aspect of this Thanksgiving I wasn’t a fan. Rest assured, she was definitely with us in spirit and in the vestige of the most divine hungarian dumpling soup, a traditional Thanksgiving dish for Andrew’s (and now my) family.
From my perspective (and our extremely polite visitors didn’t say otherwise), Thanksgiving was a grand time. This has been a year riddled with disease, misfortune and death for me, my family, and many of my friends; I will not be sorry to see 2010 come to an end in a few weeks. However, as the 11th hour draws near, and I remember the good times had with those I love in the past, and the promise of more in the future, I can’t help but feel extremely Thankful.
Yum!
Lately I’ve been fanatical about mastering pies. So while the outside world is exploding in fiery hues and the north wind is beginning to nip I’ve been dutifully making pies. It’s been going well, no spectacular failures, but recently I had a breakthrough, it was truly one of the best pies I’ve ever eaten, and I conceived of the recipe basically all on my own.
Yup, that’s the pinnacle of pie achievement . It’s a spiced apple, pear, and cranberry pie with a whole wheat crust and I’m going share it with the blogosphere. Next week I’m going to break from the sweets because I’ve mad with self directed concocting power and I’m dying to try a savory tart with yukon gold potatoes, roquefort cheese and bechamel sauce. Hopefully it’ll turn out well.
Spiced Apple, Pear, and Cranberry Pie
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Enough pastery for a double crust pie (in my endless crusade for healthier-izing recipes I already love, I cut down the butter and replaced the white flour with whole wheat in Lynne Rossetto Kasper’s crust for her apple pie http://splendidtable.publicradio.org/recipes/dessert_american.html )
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4 baking apples (they were braeburns)
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4 bartlett pears
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Juice from one lemon
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2/3of a cup sugar
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½ teaspoon cinnamon
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½ teaspoon ground ginger
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¼ teaspoon table salt
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¼ teaspoon nutmeg
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pinch curry powder
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½ stick of butter
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1/3 of a cup dried cranberries
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¼ cup flour
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1 teaspoon vanilla
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one orange for zesting
Make whatever crust you wish, and prep it in a pie plate for filling. Preheat the oven to 425. Peel and slice up the apple and the pears, then toss the fruit with the lemon juice, sugar, cinnamon, ginger, salt, nutmeg, and curry powder. Melt butter in a large pot over high heat, add the fruit and cook a few minutes until the juices simmer. Drop the heat down to medium-low and add the cranberries. Cook for about 10 minutes, stirring often. 
Add the flour, stirring it into the fruit throughly, cook a few mintues longer until the mixture clings together. Take off the stove, add the vanilla and orange zest let cool 30 minutes. Load the mixture into the pie shell, top with the other crust, slice a few vents, and pop in the oven for 20 minutes. Turn down the oven to 375 and bake for another 40 minutes, or until golden brown. Best served after it’s cooled for at least 2 hours.
I’ll admit it…
I’ve been avoiding my blog lately. There is one simple reason for this, I really don’t want to blog about the fact that my fraternal grandfather died last weekend. To complicate the matter further, I am unable to push on to other lighter brighter news without addressing it first, so I’m going to force myself to try.
My dad called telling me my grandfather was likely brain dead while I was loading bottles of ludicrously on sale prosecco into my shopping cart at Sendek’s. His quiet voice cracked with pain as he said, “I have some bad news.” My hand tightened around the fancy gold foil top of the cheap wine as I actually felt my veins shiver. My first ridiculous and shameful thought was that my endocrinologist had for some reason called my parents instead of me, that they had found something sinister lurking in my blood work and instead of me being on the mend as the reported last month, my days were numbered. My brain quickly rejected this idea, and moved to more plausible deepest fears, such as “my brother’s cancer has spread,” or “mom was in a car accident.” When he told me his father had had a heart attack, was in a coma, and was likely going to died. I told him I was sorry, that I loved him, and that I was available to do whatever he and my grandmother needed.
On my way home I started crying. I drove past the glistening lake front, watched a family ranking leaves, and was just beginning to reflect on the life my grandfather lived when a huge SUV suddenly cut me off. My grief immediately became anger as I slammed on the breaks. Frankly I feel like this scene keeps playing out, the family is planning to gather after christmas to honor my grandfather’s life, so the whole thing feels very abstract. Every time I’ve just about got ahold of the realities of his death some other SUV-like situation roars into my way, demanding my immediate attention and emotions. I’m sure it will pretty much stay this way until after christmas when I see my grandmother as a solo unit instead of a duo.
When someone die, his/her near and dear are forced to deal with the sometimes uncomfortable details of their loved one’s life. I’m definitely not one of the people that knew my grandfather best, but what I can say is this, the man lead at good long life. He served his country as a marine, was a successful lawer, had the good sense to marry my grandmother, and with her raised a large unique group of children. I loved him very much, and on this chilly fall evening I wish I could quiet my life down enough to grieve properly. The song link below is The Smiths Asleep, it’s a really pretty and sad song about dying, but tonight I feel like it expresses my desire to mourn the death of a truly remarkable man.
