Happy Holidays!

The holidays came a little faster than expected and I found myself less prepared than usual. This year I didn't get around to making all of the things I had planned on. However, I did manage to make holiday cards. I seem to be on an every other year schedule:






















Yes, each one was cut by hand. No folding and cutting. I traced from a template and cut. Like real snowflakes, no two are alike. (Yes, I had a lot of free time over Thanksgiving.)

And here's the one from two years ago, when my mini-donk obsession began:

















HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!

Meatball Cookoff 2009

It was time again for the annual Meatball Cookoff! As with every year, competition was tough, meatballs were eaten and judged, winners were crowned and good times were had by all.

This year, the winners were:

• Best Meatball (round robin judging): Party Balls
• Best Non-Traditional (non-Italian): Meat Your Maker
• Audience Favorite: Y Tu Meatball Tambien
• The three above competed for the Championship (winner's belt): Y Tu Meatball Tambien
• Best Team Name: Y Tu Meatball Tambien

For the second year in a row, Dirty Cookie (Team: Y Tu Meatball Tambien) took the Audience Favorite trophy, the Championship belt, AND the prize for best team name!

Aside: I was in charge of drawing the names of judges. In the second round of the competition, it came down to Aaron and Dirty and I drew my own name. Yikes. Now, these are two of my best friends--and I have a birthday coming up--so I did what anyone would do: quietly drew another name instead.

Project File: Carrot Terrarium

I recently went to a cousin's wedding (no flashing eyed lobster slaw. whew.) and was handed the centerpiece to take home. I took it, not for the floating candle, but for the nice cylindrical vase. Those things tend to come in handy, and I thought it would be good for a terrarium. Ellen suggested planting some carrot seeds Maddog's piano teacher had given her--that way we could chart the progress of the root vegetables. We'd also have something to eat!

Here we are at 2 weeks...and things are starting to grow...

Brazil nut: okay or no?

My friend Carla once told me the story of a friend of hers, whose parents told her early on that she was allergic to alcohol. She wasn't allergic--they did this in an effort to curb any Girls Gone Wild tendencies. So said friend never drank, thinking she'd go into anaphylactic shock if she did.

One day, Carla and the friend went to the mall and had some Rainforest Brittle, a kind of peanut brittle made with Brazil nuts and cashews. Well, turns out fake booze-allergy friend was, unknowingly, severely allergic to Brazil nuts. Her throat closed up after a bite of brittle and they had to rush her to the emergency room. Don't worry, she survived.

There are a few lessons here:

• Don't lie to your kids about their health
• Get tested for allergies
• Beware Brazil nuts

This weekend I was given a canister of mixed nuts: cashews, almonds, pecans, macadamia (which I already know I am mildly allergic to) and--you guessed it--Brazil nuts. I have never had a Brazil nut before and I didn't know if I had an allergy like fake-booze allergy girl, but her Rainforest brittle story was a warning. However, I was hungry and the largest nuts in the can were calling to me. I was alone, so there would be no ride to the ER, no one to grab the epi pen which I don't own. So I gingerly took a small bite. No sudden closing of air passages. All clear!

Whew. Funny enough, I don't find Brazil nuts to be that tasty.

Live and learn.

My Mom, the Sharpshooter

Mom went to South Korea for a guided apple picking tour. I wasn't entirely sure why the sudden interest in going apple picking, considering she lived in MN for over thirty years and we never once went to an orchard (or farm, for that matter.)

Anyways, she had a great time and it came out several weeks later that she had also gone to a shooting range in Korea. It was only $10. And it turns out Mom is a pretty good shot. Who knew?

Busted!

The institution I work for has made a huge effort to "go green, " which I think is wonderful. I have been advocating for better recycling for years, and I am known in my office for shutting down not only my own computer, but those of my neighboring coworkers (yes, I make sure they have left for the day.) I am also the one who promptly shuts off the light for the copy room at 5pm.

So imagine my dismay and embarrassment when I received this email today:

Hello,
During this week your computer was left on one or more times. This is just a friendly reminder to please program your computer to shut itself down each night. There is a new program that will allow you to schedule your computer to shutdown at a pre-determined time.

The thing is, I remember coming in one morning and noticing my computer hadn't shut down. I have auto-shutdown scheduled for 6:30pm. What they don't tell you is that if there is an error closing a program, the computer won't shut down. So it really wasn't my fault, right? RIGHT?

Paper show

I don't normally post about art shows I've gone to, but Slash: Paper Under the Knife at the Museum of Art & Design was fantastic. Granted, paper cutting is very close to my heart and I wish I had the talent, time, and OCD to do it more often.

Here are two of my favorites:

Shed. Thomas Demand

He takes scenes from found photographs, makes a 3D recreation in paper (yep, everything above--including that yellow sponge--is made out of paper), then photographs it.

Concretion/Conglomerate. Shaul Tzemach

I wasn't sure if it was hand or laser cut at first. It's hand cut. With an X-acto knife. Amazing. There is an extremely high level of OCD involved if you cut paper to mere millimeter widths by hand. (This picture doesn't do the intricate detail justice.)

Please check out this show.

Begrudgingly saving lives one drop at a time

I donated blood today. I will confess that there are incentives for me to give blood: an extra vacation day if I donate five times in a 12 month period AND a free gift each visit. I have been trying to get the free blood donation umbrella for the last several years. They always claim it's seasonal, and I always happen to donate off season. Which means that instead of an umbrella, I am the proud owner of an XXL t-shirt, and countless tote bags.

This time I thought I was going to get lucky: one of my coworkers had the coveted prize, earned a mere 2 weeks ago.

They were out of umbrellas today. I got another tote bag. Dammit.

Also, they gave me a red bandage afterwards that stinks of burnt food. It makes me look like I am either bleeding profusely or part of some resistance movement.


Sigh.

OMG, MINIDONK!

We took a mini-roadtrip upstate this weekend. At one of the Finger Lakes wineries they had a mini-donk! Meet Doobie, the very first mini-donk I've met. I'll admit, he wasn't as cute as some of the pics of mini-donks I've seen, nor was he as mini as I expected. However, he was super sweet and friendly and came right up to me.

No, we did not try to take him home with us.

fungus!

The moss terrarium is doing well enough to grow a little mushroom!

Duck, duck, fowl

Ask any Minnesotan to complete the sentence "Duck, duck, _____," and they will undoubtedly yell, "Gray duck!"

Ask anyone from the remaining 49 states and they will undoubtedly say, "Goose!"

Per Wikipedia:
Duck, duck, goose (called Duck, Duck, Gray Duck in Minnesota) is a traditional children's game often first learned in pre-school or kindergarten.

Also: http://www.gray-duck.com/gray-duck/duck-article.jpg

The funny thing is, Minnesotans are absolutely shocked to learn that no one else in the country calls it Duck, Duck, Gray Duck. Personally, I take a little 10K lakes pride in the fact that we play it our own special way. We also call soda "pop" and mint chocolate chip ice cream "peppermint bon bon."

World's Finest

Most of us had to fundraise for something or other at school: band, student council, cheerleading, etc. I have very fond memories of World's Finest chocolate bars. Milk chocolate with almonds. I remember selling them in high school and eating at least half of the cases myself. I miss my metabolism from those days.

It's hard to find those candy bars in New York. The kids I know aren't quite old enough for it yet, and similar to the Girl Scout Cookie problem, it's not safe for them to go door to door. I have to rely on their parents bringing them to work and that's a little tricky.

Last week I saw a woman on the train with a case of World's Finest. It was 8:30AM and just a little too early for me to approach her about them. Then this morning the girl who sits behind me asked me if I wanted any chocolate (duh, of course I do) because she knew I really liked this kind. She had a handful of World's Finest bars.

Cue jumping up and down, clapping hands in glee. Then I asked her where she got them. Someone in my office was selling them, but didn't see the need to announce it. Of course I immediately ran over there and offered to buy every damn one of them. Sadly, only two almond ones were left. Even sadder was when I realized they had changed the formulation--no more whole almonds, just almond bits. I know times are hard and all, but the best part was biting into that big almond.

I still plan on buying some more, though. I mean, I have to support St. Catherine of Genoa School, right?

addendum: The coworker got her hands on six additional almond bars. I bought them all even though there are only almond bits. I also bought 2 krisps and 2 caramel bars to make it an even $10. I plan on sharing the love, not hoarding them in my snack drawer.

The Assassination of Fortune Cookie

I received a call at work today from a manager in another department. At the end of the call, she mentions that she was chatting with this employee we know who is rather weird and socially awkward. They were talking about her finishing up grad school and what she wanted to do after she received her masters degree.

Her response: "I want Fortune Cookie's job."

Uh. That's very specific, right?

It's fine and all, but you, dear reader, probably know more about what I do at work than this girl does. It's not just me looking pretty and teaching a class every few weeks. I told a friend about this and she asked if it was more a statement of admiration or will there be an assassination attempt in the future? Honestly, I think the latter.

Although, even with me out of the picture, it's unlikely they would hire this girl for my job. Weird and socially awkward do not a Fortune replacement make.

In the meantime, I'll still keep an eye on her...

Out of Office Reply

Fortune Cookie is currently making a mini-donut run to the Minnesota State Fair.


http://fortunetravels.blogspot.com/

My Super Sweet 16

The end of this month marks my 16th anniversary of moving to New York City. I came here for college when I was 18 years old with one suitcase, and now I have accumulated more possessions (and memories) than I could ever account for.

But this post isn't about my last sixteen years in the city or how I love it and have no plans to leave New York until I reach the point when flying in and seeing the Manhattan skyline no longer causes my heart to flutter--and ease--a little. [Note: this actually did happen once, and that was when I flew over Ground Zero a few months after 9/11 and it was still smoking. I think my heart dropped at that moment.]

This weekend I was at a baby shower for my friend Murphy (of Team Cookie fame) and there were a good number of people I didn't know, so we played the "How do you know her?" game. I know Murphy through Miss Danna, who I met at our very first job out of college. Over the years I've gotten to know many of Danna's college friends and they are all dear friends of mine now. I feel like I am an honorary SUNY Purchase alumna, I know so many people who went there. The funny thing is, I have more friends from there than I do from my own college. Which is about eight blocks away from my house. Most people I know have a tight coterie of college friends. I don't have this at all. [Unless Sonya counts as a coterie?] I have my friends from high school, from grad school x2, from every single job I've ever had, including working at the Gap in high school, but not so much from college. I guess I just didn't stay in touch with any of them.

That's a little weird, right?

But I'm not complaining. I'm happy with what I've got.

Cake Challenge: Fortune Cookie vs. Smith Island Cake

Aaron's birthday is today. The past few years, he has always requested a "non-traditional" or "stunt" cake. I am a solid baker, no doubt, but the cakes I bake for his birthday always end in disaster and near-tears. Also, it doesn't help that it is August and a 350F oven doesn't go well with the 90 degree ambient temperature.

Remember the ice cream cone cupcakes? Oh right, I had to destroy all photo-documentation, it was so horrific and demoralizing. There was also the giant cupcake. Which tasted great, but was big, lopsided and bulky. (The smoke alarm-inducing burning of cake batter wasn't evident in the finished product, thankfully.)

This year, Aaron has asked for a Smith Island Cake.

Smith Island is the only inhabited island off the coast of Maryland in the Chesapeake Bay. They have their own cake. Last year, Maryland made it the official state dessert--only two other states have one (MA & SD)--and it goes well with their state drink, milk. Smith Island Cake traditionally has 8-12 thin layers of yellow cake with some sort of chocolate goo frosting, and in this case, crushed frozen peanut butter cups between the layers.

This is what it is supposed to look like (but with PB cup bits in between):

I'm scared. Things could get ugly. [correction: things did get ugly. There was even a frosting emergency.]

Happy birthday, Aaronosaurus!

The many thin layers of the Smith Island Cake:

Chocolate goo frosting and crushed PB cups between each layer. The crushed PB cups looked like ground meat to me:

Finished product. Those are mini-PB cups on top. Note the chocolate goo sliding into pools along the side of the cake. Not pretty.

Project File: Tags

I somehow managed to volunteer to make favors for Murphy's upcoming baby shower. I'm going to bake some cookies, put them in little cellophane bags tied with ribbon and these paper cut out tags (with the celebratory info on them, of course):

































The finished product:













Babymama:

Project File: Embroidery Experiments

It's been many years since I stopped working in a lab. There is something about working with my hands (e.g. running experiments) that is extremely satisfying. When I left that behind, I started to bake more. It's a different kind of science.

I also started crafting more.

Embroidery is something I've always been fascinated with. When done right, it is amazing. It can also be guilty of being a little grandma-y. I've been trying to teach myself how to do it. I'm the first to admit I am not the best at sewing--as OCD as I can be, I'm just a little too lazy with my stitching.

At the Museum of Art & Design we went to a free Etsy workshop on "non-traditional embroidery and fabric assemblage." It was fun to drink wine and craft, and the best thing was that I got to take home the embroidery hoop! I had been needing one so I could start the Embroidery Experiment.

Here's what I worked on at the Etsy workshop. There wasn't enough time to finish it--they started to hustle us out of there after 30 minutes. A girl can only craft so fast. I plan on adding some more embroidery and fabric pieces:















Here's my first attempt at crewel-esque embroidery. The green stalk ended up looking more like asparagus than a strand of grass, but I didn't think it was so bad for a first time satin stitch. The little yellow flower were practice french knots.:

Our Bodies, Ourselves

Our bodies try to tell us when something is wrong or something is needed: we have pain & swelling when injured, our stomach grumbles when hungry, our eyelids get heavy when sleepy, we expel things the body rejects.

I can't say I'm always attune to the more subtle signals my body sends me, but I've noticed something of late: I crave bananas [no euphemism there] when I have a leg cramp developing, from what I assume is caused by a potassium deficiency. Because whenever I ignore the banana thoughts--and I do, because quite frankly, I have never been that fond of bananas in the first place--within a few days I'm awakened by a horrific leg cramp in the middle of the night.

So I suppose the true test is if I can safely avoid charley horses by all of these bananas. The two could be totally unrelated, but I'm interested by biomechanics and physiology (yes, even for a PhD drop-out), and it would be pretty cool if it was.

Say "Hello" to my little friend

We are in the throes of a NYC summer which means it is hot as hell outside. It also happens to be an ice box inside my office. I often find myself with at least 3 layers of clothing on and a shawl on my lap, fingers tinged blue as I type away. This is not okay.

My last space heater died on me about a month ago (R.I.P) and I have been suffering through the frigid office temperatures alone. I hit up every possible store within a 10 block radius looking for a new space heater, but to no avail. (Strangely, all they have out are air conditioners and fans...) I finally ordered this little guy online. He oscillates, has multiple temperature controls, including a fan and "anti-freeze" for those really cold days, and a remote control! I guess I won't have to use my toes anymore.

My only issue with him is that he beeps at me a lot. Press a button and he beeps. Move him and he beeps. Look at him wrong and he beeps. He'd be perfect if he were just a little quieter...

Back in the 'hood

Dirty and Brad's ultimate frisbee league finals were this weekend and we planned a spectating picnic. The finals took place up in Inwood Hill Park, which is located at the northern tip of Manhattan. I lived in Inwood many years ago--it is one of three neighborhoods I've lived in these past 16 years I've been in New York. It was a completely different time of my life then, and that neighborhood holds a lot of memories for me. I seldom make it up that far any more, except to ride past on my way to Target, so it was nice to walk around there again. The area has become much more gentrified--there are fancier restaurants and a lot more white people than when I lived there almost 8 years ago. There's even a Payless Shoe Source now. I think the best addition to the area is a Venezuelan spot that sells patacones, or sandwiches with tostones (fried green plantains) instead of bread. Genius.

We ate some patacones, babycakes, homemade pickles and enjoyed the summer day, watching other people running around after a plastic disc in the heat. Unfortunately, Dirty and Brad's team lost early on. On the bright side, that gave them more time to picnic with us.