Borrowed Notoriety

So, in a lunch conversation with Leslie the other day, we pondered:

What makes a recipe YOURS?

Every recipe I use comes from somewhere. But somehow, there exists Jesse's Fruit Salsa Recipe or Jesse's Chicken Pot Pie. Truth be told, the Fruit Salsa came from my mom via allrecipes.com several years ago, and the CPP belongs to Real Simple.

Then there's the "specialties" I make that belong to others: Michelle Betts' Fried Chicken, Pioneer Woman's Cinnamon Rolls, Reta Faris' Ginger Snaps, Mom's Hungry Jack Casserole, you get the picture...

So what do you think--when does a recipe become yours?

My guess is that you first must become known for making that dish well (among your peers or family), and then it becomes "yours" when you pass it on to someone else. (That's how the Fruit Salsa & CPP recipes became "mine.")

How many years do I have to make Michelle's Fried Chicken recipe or how many generations do I have to pass it down to before it's known as "my recipe?" It's not that I desire for my name to be attached to recipes--I rather enjoy the nostalgia and connection recipes have. It's just that I was surprised to find I was linked to several borrowed recipes. If I pass on PW's CinnamonRollsofGoodness to my offspring and they pass it on to their offspring and so on--will my great-great-great grandchildren be making Cinnamon Rolls one day and still calling them Pioneer Woman's?

Just something to think about. What famous (borrowed-from-somewhere) recipe are YOU known for?

It's a lazy Friday, and I'll entertain you with today's amusement:
(Consider this a two-for-one!)
Nick woke me up this morning and I snapped at him. "WHY are you waking me up so EARLY?" Surprised, he left me alone. I heard him leave the house. I thought to myself, Is he crazy? Waking me up so early on a Saturday? I bet he went to get donuts as a peace offering. Sweet man. I then started thinking about Friday and how I was supposed to meet a friend in the afternoon. I felt startled when I realized I'd stood her up. And then it dawned on me--I hadn't dissed the rendezvous with my friend...Nick hadn't woken me up early on a weekend...He hadn't left the house in search of breakfast tokens...It. Was. Friday.

TGIF, friends!

Hairy Mondays

Have you ever wondered how much extra cleaning a dog is worth?

I sweep my house daily (with this).

I vacuum my house every Monday (with this).

This Dyson (still goin' strong!) is full of the contents of ONLY the living room space seen in the background. Ew. Babies aren't dirtier than THIS, are they? ;)

Halloweenie

Wow, tough crowd this week, eh?

(At this very moment the BlogPatrol ticker says there have been 999 visitors since I've started counting earlier this month. Who will be #1,000? The suspense is killing me!)

An acquaintance-friend of mine stated earlier this week that she doesn't like Halloween. I felt a surge of relief at this confession. Because I don't either.

I don't know what happened. I love all things autumn, I love candy, I love pumpkins (to look at and eat), I love the color orange (thanks to my Alma Mater--War Eagle!).

I do not like being scared, though. I do not like creepy things. I do not like eyeballs. Or spiders. Or severed hands. I do not like haunted houses or corn mazes. I REALLY do not like people with chainsaws. Perhaps this is the source?

Something has changed over the years, as I truly loved my childhood Halloweens. We had a big box of costumes that my mother would pull down out of the attic. It had this musty smell, and that is what Halloween "smells like" to me. We pulled out the face paints and the accessories. We all had our favorites. I remember being a Black Cat for several years in a row--I loved that costume. Don't worry...I changed it up each year with a different variation. First, straight up Black Cat. Next, Rich Black Cat. After that, Rich AND Famous Black Cat. (This is achieved by putting sparkles on your face and wearing a boa around your neck.) Well, you get the picture. (It didn't help that upstate New York always snowed on Halloween, meaning we had to wear our big fat snow coats over our costumes...Rich & Famous Fat Black Cat.)

We did not buy many costumes--most were handmade by mom. The best kind! One of the costumes my mother made that all of us wore around age 3 was a Clown Suit. It was made out of solid bright orange polyester and orange & white striped polyester. I found out years later that it had originally been a pant-suit my grandmother had made for my mom when she was in college. I wonder how Grandma felt about that when she saw the pictures of the recycled creation. Good thing we were cute kids--I'm sure that made it better.

Then there was the year that my mom made matching costumes for all of her children. We went Trick-or-Treating as...The California Raisins. We had sheets that had been dyed purple and puckered up to look like raisins. We had oversized white gloves with big cotton balls stuffed in the finger tips. Adorable. And we all pouted the whole evening because we thought it was lame.

Speaking of lame, someone should have told my 7th-grade self that the Poodle Skirt Grandma made for me was JUST for Halloween. Because I wore it to school in January. Just for fun. My mom asked during breakfast if there was some kind of theme day at school? Nope. Didn't I want to change into pants, because it's awfully cold outside? Nope. Okaaaay. (Thanks a lot, Mom.) It took half of homeroom to figure out I'd made a huge fashion faux pas. I hid in the bathroom for the rest of the day.

Speaking of lame AND hiding...that's what I'll be doing this Saturday. Turning off all the lights and hiding in the back of my house. I apologize in advance to the two teenagers and random weird adult who will knock on my door in search of candy. I am a Halloweenie.

Dog Days of Summer

Yeah, Yea, Yay

In the spirit of the greatest Facebook group known to man, "You're vs. Your: I Know the Difference" (325 members strong!), I would like to briefly clear up a common spelling mistake that seems to be a pet peeve of mine.

Yeah: This word is pronounced exactly as it's spelled. Y-eee-ahh (or aaa). This is NOT the word that means "hooray!" This IS the word that means "yes."

(And let it be noted, that it should not be used by children in the South, especially when speaking to their teachers. I found this out the hard way in 6th grade immediately after moving from New York, and the consequence was staying in from recess. Let it also be noted that I was never allowed to say "Yes, ma'am" to my Yankee mother because she thought it meant I was "sassing" her.)

Yea: Again, this word is pronounced exactly as it's spelled. Y-eee-A. Like the word above, this word can also mean yes, but in an old-school way. ("Yea or nay.") This word can also occasionally mean "hooray!" Yea!

Yay: In my opinion, this is the correct spelling for the word that means "hooray." Yay!

Now that we are all in the same page, I better not be catching anyone saying "Yeah!" in less they are truly meaning to say "Oh yeah!" Again, no hooray-ing unless it is the word "Yea!" or more appropriately, "Yay!"

Yay! I'm glad I got that off of my chest! Yeah, I know I'm a weirdo.

The Merits of a Target Bag

Is there such thing as being TOO eco-friendly?  I faced this dilemma this weekend, and it has left me pondering on the many merits of Target's plastic bags.  

I have solidified the habit of using re-usable shopping bags as of late.  It used to be a half-hearted thing--I would bring one into a store when I thought it about it, which was only a fraction of the time.  Lately, I have kept all of my re-usable bags (and my beloved grocery basket, a gift from my MIL) in the backseat/trunk of my car.  In fact, my determination to make this habit stick has resulted in 100% re-usable shopping bag usage.  

The dilemma came this weekend when we needed a Target bag.  Lo and behold, we were completely out.  After a brief moment of eco-euphoria, I found myself annoyed.  How could it be possible that I had finally used the mountain of saved Target bags only to find myself needing one more?  Are they really that necessary?  (If you're wondering how I solved my quandary, I went to Target and made a purchase, just for the plastic bag.  ha.)  

Target's plastic bags are a notch above the rest.  They are not as flimsy as bags from the grocery.  This is important to me--if you're going to make me ruin the planet, at least let me do it with quality plastic bags.  Here are the 5 primary uses of Target bags in our house"

1. Cooking catchall:  Whenever I cook, I hang a Target bag on a cabinet doorknob.  As I chop onions & garlic, the peels and ends go into the bag.  Later, an eggshell might be tossed in as well as the wrapper from a stick of butter.  Cooled bacon grease or cooking oil from the friend chicken gets poured in as well.  Afterwards, I tie it up nice and tight and throw it in the trash--those garlic and onion fumes will be safely contained!

2. Funk-container:  I hate leftovers.  But I have them anyways.  Anytime something has over-stayed its welcome in our fridge, it goes straight in a Target bag, and it's tied up tight and thrown in the trash.  Again, no funky leftover fumes wafting throughout the kitchen.  

3. Doggie bags for walks & runs:  Better take one just in case!  Boy oh boy, it is so embarrassing when you are without a Target bag and your dog decides to do his business right in the middle of someone's driveway.  Yipes.  Thats when you hustle home, grab your Target bag, and return to the scene of the crime.

4. Emptying the Dyson:  Joy to the world for the DC17 Absolute Animal Dyson.  No vacuum bags, just an awesome, powerful canister that sucks up all the dog hair in your house and will expel the contents into whatever you wish, upon the press of a red button.  Our container of choice, of course, is a Target bag.  

5. Lining the bathroom trash can:  No one likes emptying the trash.  But it's a lot less painful when you can take off the top, tie the Target bag, and toss it.

Looks like being eco-friendly gets you some planet points, but sometimes it's still necessary to pick up a few earth-destroying Target bags.  What do you use yours for?

Pros & Cons for Hating Me

Ok here it is...

The Moment You've All Been Waiting to Hate Me For:

I love my job.  There, I said it.  I think everyone should have the option to work from home.  However, I want to remind you all that not everyone would love it.  Here are the pros & cons: 

FIVE PROS:

1. As seen in the picture to the right, you can get a jump-start on your morning by not having to shower and dress all cute and get in your car and drive to your office.  Roll out of bed, fix coffee, sit down at your desk and get crackin'!  (For the record, I do make myself wear something cute for at least 4 days out of the work week.)

2. Also referring to the picture the right, any living being for which you are responsible (in my case, my dog-children) does not mind having an extra buddy at home all day.  (This has particularly revolutionized Moses' life because he does not have to go into his crate while both of us are gone, meaning that he has less "pent-up" energy in the afternoons and therefore is a little less psycho overall.)

3. Here is a convincing point for your employer: Depending on your personality type, if you are able to choose when you do your work, you will be much more focused and productive.  I have realized that I am the type of person who does not like to be "made" to do things.  However, I am very focused and love to "finish" a project.  If I pick when and where I do my work, I will sit down for five straight hours at a time and get more done than I would in an office in 2 days!  

4. Want to fix an omelet and watch "America's Next Top Model" during your lunch break?  Have at it.  Need to stick a load of laundry in the wash between emails?  Go for it.  Are you more of an afternoon runner?  No problem.  Your job revolves around your life as opposed to the all-too-common opposite.

5. You never have to use a public restroom.  (That is huge for me, people!)

FIVE CONS:

1. Isolation.  When it's just you and the dogs all day, things can get a little lonely from time to time.  There are no coworkers in the next cubicle to relay the latest funny thing you saw on Twitter.  Not that you would be on Twitter during work...

2. Discipline--a major requirement for working from home.  Many people have told me, "I could never work from home--I wouldn't be focused enough."  You have to be able to be able to put your domestic requirements & distractions aside at times and hunker down and work. 

3. The pro may be fitting your work around your life, but the con is that it has to fit in somewhere.  This may mean evenings or weekends!

4. If your house is dirty, your office is dirty.  (At least with an office, you can leave your dirty house and go to your perfectly organized and tidy office--which is what I used to do...I had multiple living spaces personalities.  ha.)  In addition, there is not much excuse for a dirty house if you are "home" all day.  

5. You can't talk to clients on the phone while the mailman is dropping off the mail (your brave watchdog will be barking ferociously)...or while the car alarm is going off down the street, the ice cream truck is crawling by, or the neighbor is mowing his lawn, for that matter!

So there ya have it--the pros and cons of work-from-home life.  For some of you, this has solidified your hatred of me.  For this, I apologize and beg of your grace to accept my random fortune.  For others of you, you have realized that this is not all it's cracked up to be when you take reality into account.  I wish everyone had the option--I really do.  Perhaps one day we all will--our employers would spend less on office leasing, utilities, phone lines, and electronics!  Until then, it's time to get back to work...including myself...

For Brooke (A Great Idea)

For those of you who are like my dear friend Brooke (click here to find out what I'm referring to), you will be thrilled to know there is refuge for your abundance of plastic cups.  Kudos to you, Central BBQ, and may all eating establishments follow suit.  

(And you'd better believe we've already redeemed our pork sandwich!)

Letting Go

Calling all bloggies:

I need your help!  

I have begun decluttering my house.  "Cozy" doesn't jive with "lots of stuff."  Therefore, the stuff and I are duking it out.

In the process, I have discovered something about myself: My extraordinary attachment to "Real Simple."  

At first I considered the unhealthy devotion was to all magazines.  No, this is not the case.  After glancing over the cover of past issues of "Runners World," I am sanely able to say, "Thank you, and goodbye."

But when could you ever absorb all of the information into your life such as the treasures on each page of "Real Simple?"  I am overcome with fear--what if I don't remember that unwaxed dental floss can double for kitchen twine??  What if I forget that lemon rinds are capable of cleaning the coffee rings in the bottom of your mugs??  How will I ever recall what body lotion or frozen pizza rose to the top of the road-tested ratings??  Or the prefect shade of green paint that I saw in an article and want to use in my dream-house kitchen?

At one point in my perfectionistic life, I tried clipping all articles that were relevant to my life, and I placed them in the largest 3-ring binder I could find.  This was a miserable failure.  Not only did I end up clipping the whole magazine, but when exactly did I plan to flip through that huge and awesome binder?  What would compel me to look for various uses for toothpicks?  The idea was scrapped.  

And so began the collection of the magazines.  No tossing.  Just placing them one by one in a cubby of a bookshelf.  I have subscribed to this magazine since it's conception in 2000.  This is no laughing matter.  

So what, dear friends, shall I do?  The most extreme and logical idea in my mind is to just let go.  Let them all go.  Right into the recycling bin.  There is wisdom and advice that I might need one day, but I'm sure it will come around again...right?  Another idea is to store them up high on a closet shelf, organized by month.  Every month, I can pull down past years' March issues and have a gander.  It will be like having 9 new Real Simple subscriptions!  However, that doesn't really solve my space issue.  Perhaps I could make a little money off of them and sell them in our upcoming spring yard sale for 25 cents each?  Or donate them to...somewhere that takes old magazines?

Help!  Lend me your thoughts!!

PS: The "Where's Waldo" of the picture above is the one lone July 2006 issue of "Living."  It's just that dang strawberry & blueberry shortcake recipe that has me holding onto hope that I will make it one day...Or that I will weave my own red, white, and blue checkered tablecloth out of cotton I grew in my own backyard and dyed with colors pressed from vegetables from my garden...Or create my own party-going friends out of wheat and butter...just like Martha.

It's the Time of the Season for Loving

Why, yes it is.  People have been confessing their love all over the country this week.

Yesterday and today have yielded some fabulously awkward moments on "The Today Show."  

First, check this out...  (Note: I saw the following clip on "Today" but couldn't find it on YouTube, so I went with a different channel...)

Did you catch it?  If not, here is someone who found it equally as funny...

(Just watch the beginning--it begins to get a little monotonous)

Yessssss.  I mean, I sure do love me some Barack and Michelle Obama, but the sincerity and passion with this woman's confession of love just leaves me in the dust.

And today, there was this terrific awkward moment right after a commercial break where this woman gave a big heart-shaped valentine to Matt.  After he showed it to Meredith (on air), she pointed out that all the pictures pasted on the front of the valentine were of Matt and Katie (Couric).  Matt made a big deal out of it while Meredith kept saying "Don't worry, I don't care," while the valentine-lady kept shrugging her shoulders and saying "You weren't here yet."  

So go ahead, bloggie friends, join the rest of the world in professing your love in awkward ways this week!

Good Medicine

While I get a good laugh out of the Tina Fey/Palin skits as well as Weekend Update, for some reason this sketch had me laughing pretty hard...

Wordle: August 08

This is called a Wordle, and I saw it on a friend's blog. You enter the URL address for your blog and it makes a word picture based on the most-used words. (Click on the picture to view it in a larger version.) Looks like running and dogs pretty much consume my life right now! (And apperently Leslie is just as important to my blog-life as Nick? Wow!) These Wordles remind me of the old Auburn Christian Student Center shirts that Amelia used to make--one year she used everyone's name at the ACSC to make the shape of a cross and the next year she used words that described the Student Center to make the shape of an icthus. It seemed like a giant puzzle and I loved trying to find all the names/words that she used. Good times, noodle salad.

*Note: I can not be held responsible for anything I have typed in this post. I am sitting in my 90 degree overheated office and the smell of burned popcorn is wafting into my nostrils thanks to our burned-popcorn-loving friends in the office next to us, who must be doing it on purpose because it is a daily occurrence. Not that I'm holding it against them or anything...

5 Confessions of Quirkiness

1. It takes me a good literal 5 minutes to squirm into a comfortable position for sleeping every night.  This process first involves puffing up my pillow, laying my head on it, and repeating for 2 minutes.  Then comes squirming my body so that my shoulders are completely covered with sheets/comforter.  (However, the sheets must be tucked between my neck and my chin whereas the comforter should be a little lower, just over my shoulders.)  That would be another two minutes.  The last one minute entails making sure my elbows are sticking out at appropriate lengths to each side of my pillow (without ANYTHING touching them) and simultaneously placing one foot into the crevice of the other leg's knee and then alternating, so as to warm up my feet.  Ahhh.  Now, time for some sweet dreams.

2. I drink coffee every day.  But I only drink about two ounces of my full coffee cup and then I'm done.

3. I swallow a lot when I get nervous.  (That's one reason why I can't swim underwater for very long.  Because I get nervous and I swallow and then water goes up my nose...PS: I took swim lessons when I was 23 to learn how to go underwater without holding my nose.  My lesson was always after a little kiddie lesson each week, and Miss Collette, my teacher, would say "Ok, children, it's time for Miss Jesse's swimming lesson!" and all the kids would get out of the pool and run to their parents, who were my age, to get toweled off while I put on my goggles and got in the pool.  ha.)

4. I pull on my earlobes when I'm thinking.  

5.  I like to dip Nacho Doritos in ketchup (just the edges).  I put ranch dressing on anything with tomato sauce (pizza, lasagna, spaghetti).  I make sure that I ration each food item on my plate so that I finish them all at the same time.  I am allergic to red food coloring.  I like to eat macaroni & cheese, carrots, and orange juice all in the same meal because they are all orange.  Due to my husband's affection for these two items together, I like to drink grape juice when I eat popcorn.  

Extra bonus quirk: I go back and edit each blog post about four times after it is posted.  In fact, I edited this very statement twice after the original posting.

Oxymoron

The other day on the way to work, I passed one of my favorite franchises.  The OTHIE was burned out so it read:
"SMO      KING"

Ha.

(Update coming in near future.  Loving my new job, but life is in fast motion!)

Favorite TV Moment of the Week

Sydney: "I'm a lot of woman.  I bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan, serve it with eggs or on a sandwich or car-umbled up in a cobb salad."

LOVE it.  ha.  

(What makes this post even better is that I accidentally posted it on our Sunday School blog for 5 minutes...Whoops!)