Apr
23
When Mrs. NYU Lawyer emerges from the bathroom, she confesses how calming it is to know you are the first person to use the public bathroom. Something she knows a germaphobe like me will appreciate.
Luna throws her hand across the familiar table, grabbing my wrist, “It’s so nice not to have beginning conversations! To see AB’s hands and fluttering eyes and know that means she’s had it.” The dimness of the restaurant makes the lights twinkle behind her.
It was almost like nothing had changed. Scarfing carbs, chocolate, and fried food – the frites, oh the frites we can consume! We solved life’s problems Saturday night. We discussed you, CC, and lamented your absence. We considered carving our initials in our booth. We hit The Porch for dessert. Which might have been the 3rd time for some of us in 24 hours. We continue to blame Luna for our sinking ship, and I still won’t give up my bacon jokes. Mrs. NYU, I owe you the shirt off my back, and I’ll get it to you.
It was good. Life is good. Friends are good.
And busy. I’ve been working on a few assignments. Hopefully we can talk about it int he next few weeks.
Here’s the thing though, as I’ve spent so much time talking and chatting this weekend with lots of my peers I see themes emerging. We’re all looking for something new. New jobs, new places, new parenting ideas, new clothes, new ways of thinking. Perhaps a new brain-to-mouth filter. There is a great unrest amongst us, and we all thought we should feel settled by now. We don’t know what’s best for our kids, for our spouses, for us – where’s the manual? Where’s the easy button? I distinctly remember being sure as a teenager that adults had easy decisions and dull, boring lives. I’m waiting for that. Please, Universe, deliver it to me. And if you want that too, I’ll put in a good word.
Dec
8
I leave and heave
A sigh and say goodbye
Goodbye.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
We said our formal goodbyes with sugar and mingling. A hot cocoa bar and a photo booth. What else were we going to do? Cry?? Crying, like measuring, is for sissies. So we ate a bunch of cookies and donned clown noses. [click to continue…]
Jan
12
I’ll admit that I get just about as excited as the kids about school being canceled. At least the first few times anyway. I love being out in the snow and I love watching my red-cheeked kiddos build and haul and ride on the fluffy white stuff. I am an Alaskan girl at heart. I know that surprises people, but I do love the outdoors and MB and I are in the midst of a lifestyle revamp that includes a major outdoorsy family makeover. But I digress. Really I just wanted to say that I will be busy with boots, hats, and puddles in the entryway today and of course we’ll be revving up the cocomotion.
So in the spirit of the day I want to share 2 recipes. Weird, I know. I don’t normally do that. I tried very lamely to get that part of my site going and lasted only 3 posts. I don’t know how crafty/foodie blogs manage – it is so much work to get the right photos and instructions, plus present it all in a way that people actually care about what you’re doing. But as the Angry Baker I do feel some obligation to share with you my all time favorite baked goodie, Molten Chocolate Cakes:
Ingredients
Serves 6.
- 4 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature, plus more for muffin tins
- 1/3 cup granulated sugar, plus more for muffin tins
- 3 large eggs
- 1/3 cup all-purpose flour
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 8 ounces bittersweet chocolate, melted
- Confectioners’ sugar, for dusting
- Whipped Cream , for serving
Directions
- Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Generously butter 6 cups of a standard muffin tin. Dust with granulated sugar, and tap out excess. Set aside.
- In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and granulated sugar until fluffy. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. With the mixer on low speed, beat in flour and salt until just combined. Beat in chocolate until just combined. Divide batter evenly among prepared muffin cups.
- Place muffin tin on a baking sheet; bake just until tops of the cakes no longer jiggle when the pan is lightly shaken, 8 to 10 minutes. Remove from oven; let stand 10 minutes.
- To serve, turn out cakes, and place on serving plates, bottom sides up. Dust with confectioners’ sugar, and serve with whipped cream, if desired. [click to continue…]
Oct
22
RE: my last post.
I’m making this a post, because if your are like me, you often don’t go back and to check up on follow up comments and when you do, you find the discussion is essentially over. First off, thanks for all of your replies. I realized right after I clicked “publish”, that I didn’t want such a pity party on display but once it is in google reader, there’s really no deleting it. (Have you ever noticed that? Kind of annoying.) It’s good for me b/c this is not the kind of stuff I would call someone up and chat about and I’m learning to appreciate my blog as an alternate mode of communication for the emotionally constipated*.
I realize that many of my internal dilemmas are a result of convenience and luxury that most people don’t have. I am not a self-sacrificing mom. I make time to do the things I like. I am slowly making my way through my list of community classes. (And yes, it does suck to be logistically last all the time.) I have been taking specific steps to improve my writing and learn more about the process. We get babysitters and I get out by myself and with MB fairly often. So I really feel like I don’t have a right to complain – or to ask for sympathy. Maybe it’s just that it is more socially acceptable now to express our discontent?
I thought about your replies all last night, discussed them with MB, and then talked with Luna a bit about it today. (It was very nice to sit in the sun and drink my Pepsi with my friend who doesn’t seem to mind that I talk about myself so much.) Here’s what I really want to know: Are we (in general, and me specifically) too focused on our own individual happiness? I’ve been rolling that thought around for the last month or so. MB said last night that if all it took to make us happy was doing things for ourselves, then there should be a lot more happier people in the world. I’m not trying to start a debate, because I DO think it’s important to maintain a sense of self as a mother or a father. (Let’s not leave the guys out of this b/c all too often we assume that men are comfortable with their lot in life.) This really is the generation of “Me.” We expect fulfillment in every aspect of our lives – we demand it. Perhaps all of this focus on what I need is missing the mark. Maybe what I really need is somebody to just kick my butt and tell me to deal with it and move on.
*this term is on loan from Rosie the Riveter.
Oct
21
Just trashed a post – wasn’t feeling it.
October is eating me alive. I’m sure I’m not the only one, so I won’t give you the laundry list. Between my stuff, the kids’ stuff, and the house stuff, I feel like I’m juggling a never ending pile of mental lists. When things do quiet down I feel a bit panicked and anxious. I rarely ever feel relaxed. Man I wish I could remember where I saw this, but there was some show (can’t remember if it was TV or movie) and some uptight guy says, “I’m most comfortable when I’m tense.” I laughed a bit too loudly. That’s totally me.
So I’m kind of a shrew lately. Snipping at everyone and bemoaning my responsibilities. I told MB the other night it must be horrible to come home to me. He said something entirely too nice about it. The guy loves me – what a jerk. But he’s right about one thing – I’m in a funk. The cloud is rolling in and I’m doing my weird stuff. Not talking to my friends. Not talking to my mom. Baking way too many cookies. Feeling like my presence doesn’t matter. (I even did an experiment at church. I decided that I wouldn’t talk to anyone first. I wasn’t going to be mean, I just wanted to see how many people approached me without me initiating anything. How lame am I? But you know what? Only one person did in that 3 hour block. I kinda can’t believe I just admitted this.*) I don’t know that I’m depressed because well, I’m very self aware about my recoiling. I’ve never had a “i can’t get out of my bed and function” episode and that is sort of how I define depression. And I’m not a crier, and I tend to think a lot of uncontrollable crying goes along with depression. But I am doing a lot of avoiding.
I forced myself to exercise today, and I hated every minute of it. I made myself take LegoManiac to cub scouts last night so I could chat with Luna. I am trying, with what little energy I have, to drag myself back to normal.
*if I start getting calls to “check” on me from church people, I might yell at you. Just a friendly warning.
May
7
From my inbox:
“Hi Angry Baker,
So I was looking at your blog and read the truth post and the first time through I thought to myself, I saw A.B. a lot this weekend, but don’t remember that or even if we were ever alone in a room together. Then I read it again and thought the name Luna sure would be a good code name for me and maybe it was me you were referring to. So I read it one more time and remembered you sneezing in the library. Pretty funny, I really really didn’t notice anything and didn’t even realize that it was me at first. Then I wasn’t sure if I should tell you on your blog or email you. You’re so good at not using people’s names-I wasn’t sure if I should blow the cover. Anyway now I know and you know I truly was oblivious-next time one of us has any bodily function snafus we can have a good laugh at it. 
-Luna”
I could have totally gotten away with it! I’ll keep that in mind next time I sneeze. Now we all know– and knowing is half the battle.
May
4
I have a bit of a confession to make. Confessions are good because they’re kind of humiliating and embarrassment kind of keeps everybody in check. I guess I should also say that I am a firm believer in owning your awkwardness. It makes it more bearable and funny if you can acknowledge something in the moment. So this little happenstance surprised me, because generally I’m really good at embarrassing myself.
The truth is I fart. Come on, so do you . And it’s not like I don’t have any sort of social awareness, but I did grow up as the only girl with 3 very crude and crass brothers. (They perfected the air biscuit – as in they would trap their gas in a Pringles can). My point is, I’m no stranger to flatulence.
So a couple of days ago I was talking to my friend. Let’s call her Luna. Luna and I were by ourselves in a room, just chatting. I could feel the itchiness of a sneeze approaching so I turned away from her (see, I do have some sense) so as not to accidentally spray her. As I was sneezing, I heard a faint nether sound. I wasn’t really sure, did I really just fart while I was sneezing? No seriously, I had a huge brain freeze and I tried to ascertain what had just happened. By this time I had turned back around to Luna, who made no indication that anything weird/funny/gross/inappropriate had happened. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have owned it right there and then! Because by that time my brain was arguing with itself and I was trying to get back into the conversation and not look guilty. Then we could have a had a nice little laugh at my expense and she could have told her family about it later that night. (Well, that’s what I did and then I endured the taunting of my children). What a great girl bonding moment I missed. Trauma and embarrassment are the ties that bind friends.
I snarted while we were talking. And that’s the truth Luna.
UPDATE: Luna makes contact.
