I've been baking a lot lately. My latest is one of my mom's recipes--Monkey Bread--which I found it going through my recipe binder. I'm not quite sure why it's called Monkey Bread, maybe because it's so easy a monkey could do it? Either way, I needed to make a cake and had no eggs, this recipe had contained no eggs. It was fate. I remember making this once or twice as a kid. Maybe. Or maybe I'm confabulating. I do that a lot.

Monkey bread is sort of a poor man's (or make that lazy man's) cinnamon coffee cake. It was my first run at the recipe so it was far from perfect, but the Husband loved it (sorry arc_stormcrow   it didnt' make it to work, maybe next time) and I loved it. I burned the edges a smidge so I need to adjust the heat and I decided to add a glaze to the cake, but so did not like this recipe with the cake.

Yum-may!

Did you think I forgot about the LJ Idol party? Well I didn't, it just took us forever to set a date. The celebration for my triumph and ultimate kicking out because of four lame judges (stupid judges) is on August 23 at our house at 1:00. If you are on my friend's list you are invited, but if I don't know you in person you can't sleep at my house. It's an old rule we have. I should mention too that as of this moment I have absolutely no crash space; now, that may change because it's all "hold" space and not definite space, but it's not available either way.

If I don't know you in real life I'm in the eastern upstate New York region (vague enough for you?) about a half hour away from trysloraif you know where she lives. If you want to come leave me a comment (preferably with your email) and I'll give you more information.

As you know I bribed all y'all with food each week so the menu is set. Everything on the bribe list will be at the party unless something goes horribly wrong and I do reserve the right to add more food if I don't think I will have enough. I should mention, my mother was Jewish so I will not think I have enough food. And no, you cannot bring anything unless I have given you special permission.

So there it is, August 23. I will send an email out later to any email addresses I have.
Menu:

• Welsh cookies
  
• Chicken Curry Turnovers
  
• Chili
• Lemon Cookies
  
• Peanut butter chip cookies like I used to make
  
• Bailey's flavor fudge
• Noodle Kugel
• Taquitos
  
• Uber-salad
• My new mystery cookies....
• Brisket
• Asparagus
• Whoopie Pies
• Fruited Couscous
• Carrot Salad
• Rice Krispie Treats
• Fruit platter
• Pear and Walnut Pasta
• Peanut butter and jelly bars
• Chili Chicken salad

Can someone tell me why I keep dreaming about Zach Braff? This morning I had an ultrasound. No, I'm not pregnant. I just get to have these every few years to check on IBS-related questions or just for shits and giggles. Because, really, what is more fun that filling your bladder to capacity, having jelly put over your stomach, and rubbing everything together with a hard stick. Wait, that sounds sort of pornographic, doesn't it?

Last time I partook of the joy that is an ultrasound (see here, here, and here for some related posts) I noticed that I was pregnant with a black hole. Now, no one mentioned it at the time because I think they were more worried of the beast that would spring forth from the darkness than confirming the happy news. This time, I wasn't even able to see the monitor to see how little Holey (that's what I've named him) was doing. I think they are trying to hide the fact that I have this little black hole inside waiting to tear apart the universe and they are trying different procedures to cut the little guy out. Those bastards! I suspect in the next few years, no matter their efforts, my little black hole will be born unto the world and tear the very fabric of time. I will be such a proud mama.

I really hate ultrasounds....

Happy birthday arc_stormcrow! I don't often catch when friends have their birthdays, but I noticed yours. So feel special! I hope you are doing something fun today.

I could include a picture. I could write something witty. I could do something else just to make this a third "I could." But I'm not. This is all you get. I'm cranky, mean, and Tori and Dean is on. Shaddup...

All the basement pictures are up! At least what is done right now. I've slowed down on the picture taking because not a lot has really happened this past week. A few days for mudding/taping, a few days for additional electrical, and other stuff where they say they are working but nothing looks different. Whatevs. Enjoy days 6 and 9!

Don't forget to check out http://www.drhorrible.com/ Act 1 is up today! I have heard great things about it. Plus it's Joss so it can't be that bad. Right?

In the meantime, I have had a headache since Sunday. It's one of those headaches that are making me want to vomit. I decided it must be allergies from biking so I've drugged up. We'll see if it takes. If it doesn't, I may need to go home later today.

Halfway through my anniversary I was exhausted and my butt was sore. See, the Husband canceled golf with his dad and thought we would go to Thatcher for a picnic.  We found a secluded spot with a view over the ridge and ate. It was very romantic. Then we wandered a couple trails hand-in-hand because I wanted to. When we felt well-digested, we took the bikes off the car and spent almost an hour mountain biking, hence the sore butt.

We decided to stop just before I was going to collapse, and went home to shower and change for dinner which was really yummy Indian at the new Indian restaurant in town. We sat outside over a pond and watched ducks swim. It was perfect. Of course, what is dinner without a movie? We went to see the romantic Hell Boy 2 and liked it. Sadly, that's where the romance ends. We went home and collapsed. Biking was tiring.

I have more basement photos! It's up to yesterday

Anyone have any invites to Ravelry that steforama could snag? She so very kindly pimped my LJ Idol bid in her blog so I'm sure someone could reward her with one.

I am beyond any level of cranky I have ever seen. It's a 12.3 on the Richter scale. 10+ is epic according to Wikipedia so you can imagine if you even look at me today I will knock you over, tear out your eyes, and jump on your bloody remains while singing "I feel pretty." So don't look at me, mm'kay?

I think part of the problem is the stupid work being done on our basement. Not that the work is stupid. I want the basement refinished (which is what they are doing so it works), but I don't like having workers in the house when I'm trying to get ready for work. That's my alone time to run around half dressed looking for my keys because I actually put them away and not where I think they should be. Then there is the banging in the basement. No, not wanton nookie but demo and framing and...well I'm not sure what they were banging (and sawing) this morning but it was annoying.

Now mind you, with all this going on revving up my crank-i-factor, I still have taken pictures each day to track the progress because I know that everyone wants to see that they added an extra nail from Monday to Tuesday. I have the before and day 1 (which was July 1) pictures up for your enjoyment.

I am sure the five people who read this were waiting with baited breath to see how I ran on Friday. I ran like crap. I don’t know if it was because I hadn’t been feeling well during the week, the heat, or I started too fast, but I just couldn’t run. I walked a bunch and was very disappointed in myself. That said, I ran it in 33:58. The Husband ran pretty well and finished the race in 23:something. He tells me things and I quickly forget them. busybusymama ran well for her first race and talks about it in her knitting blog.

The best part of the weekend was spending time with busybusymama. We drove out Thursday night and crashed at her place with her dog, husband, and kids. Let me first say that her kids are absolutely adorable. Not only that, but they are such well-behaved kids. busybusymama says that’s because we were here and they were on their best behavior, but to me that is a mark of good parenting. I may have to kidnap the kids for a few days, although I don’t know if the Husband would be okay with that.

I consider busybusymama my third sister (after the Sister and the Sister-in-Law). She has been there for me for just about every low point in the past ten years, from when my mom died to my current craziness, and she doesn’t complain or turn me away. She takes me with open arms for who I am and gives me a new perspective that I didn’t realize. And yes, she has told me things (nicely) that I don’t necessarily want to hear but that I needed to hear.

We haven’t seen each other in person for almost two years and our email has been intermittent as life takes over, so seeing each other for two days and getting to talk was wonderful. I didn’t realize how much I missed it. I need to start making a better effort to visit my sister.

Friday is race day with busybusymama! Yes, and the Husband too. I took all your music suggestions and threw them out. I enjoyed what everyone submitted but none of it was my running style. I started thinking about it and my running music must be perky, have a good beat, and often have some sort of message about kicking butt. Not that it necessarily is about kicking butt, but if it sounds on the surface that it's empowering it's good enough. After all I don't really have higher thought when I'm trying to not pass out from lack of oxygen.

That said, I was fascinated by what your suggestions said about you.

My soundtrack thus far is below. I'm not 100% sold on it yet but I'm going to start listening to it while I get some stuff done. It's roughly 38 minutes long. When Phil Collins plays at the end I'm just over 32 minutes. The Brian Boitano song will be my push song to run really fast for that last minute 30. We'll see how it goes.

Party Hard by Andrew WK
Big Girl (You are Beautiful) by Mika
Superstar by Tegan & Sara
Because We Can by Fatboy Slim
Marti's Last Stand by Enter the Haggis
Perfect Family by Deadeye Dick
Ready for the Good Times by Shakira
Ray of Light by Madonna
What Would Brian Boitano Do? from South Park Movie
I Cannot Believe It's True by Phil Collins

In case you are not aware of this....


Teaser from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog on Vimeo

I need to come up with a new race soundtrack because I gots another on Friday. Word.

Any music suggestions? Must be perky, happy, and have a good beat.

This weekend we went to my home town of Hicksville (ha!) to visit my oldest friend, Sean. Oldest as in, known the longest, not an Octenegarian or something. He and I were in Kindergarten together (I think) in 1981. I think it was 1981. I am old. We saw Sean at a BBQ and Kara (who was a year behind me in school) was there as well.

It was good to see him but I think it's safe to say we don't have all that much in common anymore and we work better via email. He's married with a kid and still loves the Yankees. I'm married with a car and get annoyed with most things. Plus, there wasn't that many people and we didn't really know anyone so my introverted self struggled to cope. But, as I said it was good to see him and I'm glad I went.

I do have to admit, however, everyone looked old! I don't think I look that old. Do I look old? I know I look older but damn!, it was scary.

Wednesday's XKCD has started interesting conversations around these parts. For reference:


The conversation last night:

chazari: "Let's get a cat!"

mngstar (aka the Husband who never updates): "Sure! We should disassemble it, check all the parts and put it back together!"

chazari: *thwack*

So no cat. Every time I look the baby upside down in that comic I giggle.

I read an article the other day asking if models shave their faces and by article I mean more of a dear abby, ask an expert sort of thing. In it, a woman wonders if models shave their faces because their skin looks so smooth. A fair question in my opinion, however, I imagine the asker may have not heard of waxing, laser removal, creams, and what other hellish devices woman are willing to endure to be hairless in this hair-free society. But I digress.

The thing that got me was the answer. Ready? This is a direct quote from some expert named Ying..."Face shaving is such a masculine act that it can be psychologically confusing to do as a woman." That's right. Face shaving is so masculine that if I do it I may start liking football, heckle women on the street, and pee standing up. Not that all men do that of course, but if I'm going to become a man from shaving my face then dammit I want to be stereotypically manly. Of course, peeing standing up could get messy and I may pull a muscle trying to leverage myself for less mess. Wait! I'm a man! I don't care about a mess because it makes me manly! Hold on while I scratch my non-existent balls.

People are idiots. If I somehow decided that I want to shave my face I really don't think I am going to suddenly become mountain-man Chazari. I mean, I have curves and lumpy bits and a menstrual cycle (for goodness sake!!!!) to remind me that I'm in fact missing a third leg. Does she really think that women's psyches are so fragile that doing a societal ritual for the other team will confuse the hell out of us? Suddenly you will have droves of manly women wandering around lost and confused throwing out their 3-inch heels in favor of sensible work boots farting their way to the sports bar slapping non-face-shaving women's asses while readjusting little slappy in a manly way slamming down beers and beating the ever-loving shit out of any man who looked at their breasts. Because I assume, even if I'm psychologically damaged from shaving my face, I will still have breasts.

And what about men who don't shave their face? Bearded, rugged men who drink their beer by the quart, and hunt and fish with other manly men? What about them? If a man doesn't shave is he less manly? What about effeminate men who already shave their face? Wouldn't, by Ying's assertion, they confuse themselves with such a masculine act that they shed their non-masculine ways?

Maybe today I will go home and shave my face just to see what happens. Probably not. I don't want the Husband to start scratching his face on mine like I do his because I'm too lazy to move my hand to get that itch on my nose. I think instead I'm going to just harumph at this article and get back to work in my little dress and cute shoes. Tomorrow I'll box with the Husband, knit a little and then, maybe, I will try to pee standing up because I've never tried it before.

There are two types of physical pain. There is the kind that makes you curl up in a ball and whimper to anyone who will listen, and then there is the kind that makes you happy because you know you worked your body to the limit and survived. I'm experiencing the second type because the Husband and I helped jarien move to her new location.  I ran up stairs a bazillion, jillion times and carried more furniture and boxes than grains of sand on the beach. Okay, not that many but I'm going for artistic license here, people.

I've come to accept that I'm extremely competitive. When I was younger, I would compete with the Sister to see who could make a pack of Cadbury eggs last the longest. Of course, she didn't realize she was in a competition because I never mentioned it to her. As competitive as I can be, I'm worse when I'm competing physically with boys. I want to be just as good as my three-legged friends *ahem* and I've notice this compulsion most acutely in this round of my Circuit Training class.

My doctor ordered me to decrease the intensity of my exercise for a while and I planned to follow instructions. The beauty of my circuit class is you can put in what you want as you huff and puff around the room. And I honestly planned on going a little slower on the cardio and a little lighter on the weights. Until, that is, I walked in to see 7 boys in the room. I had to put my game on and show them who was boss. Am I better than them? Maybe, maybe not, but I need to make them respect the effort in my own mind.

And today, with three boys around, I had to compete again. I had to run up the stairs and carry just as many heavy things. I didn't necessarily realize I was doing it at the time, but I did it nonetheless. So I pushed myself to my limits and then pushed a little farther. Now feeling that warm, sweet ache in my muscles telling me I worked them well and they are very happy with the effort.

Tomorrow, I expect I will be curled into a ball.

I'm killing myself right now. No, not quite literally but almost. I have another more public blog out there where I *gasp* use my real name and such (which, if you are playing along, you know I don't use here). It's a site designed more for family and friends but it's also, how should I put this?, a nicer version of me. chazari is the more cranky version of me.

I also have a blog for the knitting version of me. Too many blogs, dammit.

I just spent the last ten minutes upgrading Wordpress on the server and I was totally convinced I had killed or was going to kill the system, losing all 23 entries of my boring life. So far it's running okay. It was down for about 5 minutes while I did some stupid things.

Now for more killing, I'm building a second site for something and am attempting to install a second instance of Wordpress there. I suspect you will soon see a mushroom cloud somewhere over eastern New York. Cross your fingers that this second instance works.

If anyone cares, I've finally got the shower photos (from May 3) up.