OCD Baking Log #412

What have I been up to in between blog entries? It's not very interesting, but I can show you pictures of what I've been doing between what I've been doing - you know the multi of my multitasking. Could be the cold, but I've been baking, cooking and sewing constantly.


Cinnamon Rolls
I baked cookies at a friend's house last week and in reading through cookbooks, trying to be inspired about cookies, I kept coming back to cinnamon roll recipes. I wanted to bake something with yeast. 2 oz or 8 packages of yeast. First I made a sponge:



While the sponge rose, I put massive amounts of flour and sugar together with yolks and butter:



Lots of mixing and kneading later, I produced this ball of dough:



I watched it rise twice, rolled out the dough using my super duper rolling pin and slathered on butter, cinnamon and sugar:



I rolled it tightly and cut it into rolls. Yay, I was almost finished:



Just for fun, I watched the rolls rise AGAIN:



It took a while, but after several minutes the most amazing smell started to emanate from my home:



Finished and iced buns:


Here is the sad postscript... neither the kids nor I really liked them. I did engender much good will from pals at work and from Mr. Green Eyes. I'm looking for a really good cinnamon roll recipe so I can try again!

The six egg whites made wonderful chocolate chip meringue cookies that were gobbled up and loved by all.

Oh Snap! Time to Rethink Parties

There were a few questions that just didn't have the answer I wanted to give, but here it is folks. BTW, xoxox to Steve Forbes:

Your Political Profile:

Overall: 30% Conservative, 70% Liberal Social Issues: 0% Conservative, 100% Liberal Personal Responsibility: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal Fiscal Issues: 75% Conservative, 25% Liberal Ethics: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal Defense and Crime: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal

How Liberal Or Conservative Are You?

Me Starring Me

Suddenly short online quizzes that generate profound predictions complete with HTML and embedded ads seem so much more fun than trying to figure out if my t-stat is statistically significant. Signs are pointing to yes and hey, check this out since you already read all that:

The Movie Of Your Life Is A Cult Classic

Quirky, offbeat, and even a little campy - your life appeals to a select few. But if someone's obsessed with you, look out! Your fans are downright freaky. Your best movie matches: Office Space, Showgirls, The Big Lebowski

If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?

Bathroom Trappings

It's not a true fixation on bathroom humor, it is honestly just my life. A couple weeks ago, I heard someone talking on a cell phone as I entered the shared bathroom at work. I was disgusted, but it is becoming more and more common these days, so I just took the far stall away from the talker. I contemplated what would have worked to finish the call maybe 18 months ago - a simple pre-emptive flush, but there are bathroom noises and she's not ending the call. As I was pulling out the toilet seat cover, I realized that I could hear both sides of the conversation not because she was loud and her cell phone was cranked up, but because she was relieving herself on speaker phone. I started to feel offended on top of disgusted, but not enough to walk up a floor to the nearest bathroom - plus by this time I was committed - seat cover in hand.

Bathroom-talker got asked where she was and she answered, "On my way to the lot."
I'm thinking, "Liar!!"
Bathroom-talker: Actually, I am in the bathroom on the way to the lot.
Man-friend: Oh?
Bathroom-talker: Ya, I better get going cause I'm on the toilet right now. (In case you're wondering, she was in progress throughout the conversation).
(Me: OMG! but silently. I decide instead of being a victim to voice my displeasure).
Me outloud: Yes, it's pretty weird to talk on speaker phone in a shared bathroom.
Bathroom-talked: Ya, I better go.
Man-friend: I love you!
Bathroom-talker: I love you!
Me: I love you too!
Man-friend: Who was that??
Me: The person a stall over in the bathroom!
Man-friend: Oh, you ARE in the bathroom! Oh my God...

Call ends nicely and abruptly. I finish washing my hands and leave not wanting to know what the person looks like. My work is done in more ways than one.

A FEW DAYS LATER, KARMA?

There isn't much to the possible karmic sequel, except to admit that I almost fulfilled my career dream of being in Lights & Sirens. I always use the bathroom between classes (an artifact of motherhood - go before you need to). I had a hard time getting the metal door latch closed to lock the stall. Note to readers... if this happens to you, do not keep trying. Find a new stall that closes easily. All was well until I tried to leave the stall about 45 seconds later. No joy. Wouldn't budge... not even with my sweater wrapped around the nob and all my large German woman muscles flexing. :-/ I contemplate crawling under the stall door, but it's low. I think I can make it, but I am always larger than I remember and in no way want to germ myself up nor my backpack. It's a new building where the stalls are small and the building would have to be on fire for me to try to crawl out.

I begin to wonder - who do you call when you're stuck on the bathroom at school? Someone in the bathroom? What could they do - the latch is one-sided anyway. I mean really, the police? Coworker? I can't imagine telling either that I am stuck in a stall at Pepper Canyon. My class is starting and I enter pre-panic phase. I decide to will the door open without any specific plan. I was eventually able to free myself (obviously I am blogging about it - what, you thought a sad ending on this one? ;) by pushing the stall walls out far enough so the door could be moved with the lock extended. Go big-boned genes! I am woman! Hear me RAWR as I run to class.

Apathetic

I used to blog a lot more before I was hit by... oh man, just read the subject.

Heart Breaker

Jon
Originally uploaded by baglady

In case you have the internet in heaven... let them know we need you back here and that it was just a mistake.

Summer Baking Therapy

Peach Puzzle: Serious Food Porn
Originally uploaded by baglady

Tonight I made the Peach Puzzle, from the most recent Cook's Country. I haven't made anything like it before. It's a cross between a cobbler and a pineapple upside down cake, but really not either. You place an empty ramekin in a pie plate face down with seven peaches, drizzle a yummy homemade syrup and top with a biscuit dough. Click through to my other Flickr pics to see the outcome. It was very satisfying to flip it onto a platter and see all of the syrup drain into the ramekin.

The syrup reminded me of breakfasts growing up. Neither my Mom or my grandma buy syrup. They would always make it alongside pancakes or waffles or dutch babies. Homemade isn't as thick, but it has a great flavor and no chemicals. It was also super hot. My grandma still makes hot chocolate on the stove with Ovaltine. I want to say it's making me hungry, but I'm stuffed from eating some of the puzzle.

Call Me Sick

but I think it looks phallic too:



“If it looks like a phallic symbol, someone has a strange perception,” said Shapery, a San Diego-based developer. “You can find sex anywhere if you want to. . . . There's just some sick people out there.”

Open Letter to Mr. Val Kilmer

Dear Mr. Kilmer,

Today at the checkout stand in my local grocery store, I saw the unfortunate tabloid picture of you with your gut hanging over your swim trunks. I still think you are hot. It was probably taken by some jealous paparazzi.


xoxox,
The Baglady

Have a Happy Period!

Have a Happy Period!
Originally uploaded by baglady

A few months ago when applying a feminine product to my undergarments, I found a message scrawled all over the part covering what the manufacturer refers to as the "wings." Never before had such a mundane and even depressing moment been met with such exuberance. I almost immediately wanted to share it with my three readers, but panicked that on top of being an unsavory topic that certifying the occurrence of my period was somehow just completely undignified.

The problem was that every time I thought to blog about this I was on my period. The "Have a Happy Period!" messages would remind me and I would set aside a new adhesive covering to scan. This went on for a good 4-5 cycles and every time I cleaned my counters I had to find a place to tuck that stupid piece of waxy paper.

The latest package I bought does not include this message - no well wishes, just the old boring badge. I was determined to find the paper right then and there (well after I had pulled my pants up) and set out to find the scrap. I tore some of my piles apart and made a mess looking for it. I decided that I had to finally let the world know what was going on in women's sanitary products. I was going to let the blogosphere (gross word) know even if it meant exposing my cycle date. "Let them know! Let them mark their calendars and live in fear!" I thought. Perhaps due to blood loss, I could not find the memento and gave up. In looking to see if someone else had posted a pic, I did find that Always has a whole web site dedicated to this philosophy.

So don't believe me, check it out for yourself. I especially enjoyed the narcissistic philosophy that included, "This is the time when, even if something is even slightly annoying, the world (curly font) should know about it." Isn't that what blogs are for? Now I have TWO excuses. I haven't heard from my sister yet; I hope she enjoyed the ecard I sent her. I am still trying to understand just what kind of person would download the Always background in the "pick-me-up downloads". It's bad enough wearing a small diaper; I definitely don't want to stare at a reminder of it all day.

Sorry to tell you that while I finally found the scrap of paper after cleaning my desk, it is no longer "that time," so friends you will have to be on guard all month as usual.

While I am on this subject, I would like Ralph's to know that they are NOT Costco. When I got my most recent period early and went to the store for more panty liners, there were only three choices. 1. Costco-sized box. 2. Thong liners. WHAT IS THE POINT? (Shaking head) 3. Large(r) woman size. I am big, but not that big and hey, I can just get an adult diaper if it comes to that. I had just done my Trader Joe's shopping and had a full cart, so in addition to being forced to choose the Costco-sized box, I had to put it right on top of all the bags. While I don't mind sharing my period stories with all of you, I just don't want to stand in line behind a bunch of teenagers with over a hundred sanitary napkins. Call me old fashioned.

Big Boned Women and the Hazards of Jumping

If I ever do internet dating, which I seriously, seriously never plan to do, I would list my ability to clear drains as a skill. I was sure the clogs in my shower and bathroom sink were going to require a visit from my handyman. Nevertheless after being grossed out for the last time at the slow drain situation, I decided I had nothing to lose and went to it. I am an upside person, but using the fact that you're standing in your own rinsed off grodiness to understand how difficult bathing conditions in third world countries must be to abate my whiny thoughts has only limited success. With my only materials being my hand cloaked in a trash bag, scissors and hot water I removed all of the hair, etc. from the drain. It didn't really help, but I hadn't expected it to. I scrubbed the shower down, waited for the silt to drain. A few minutes into the shower and of course with soap in my eyes, I heard a belch from the pipes underneath me. At first I wasn't sure what it was, but realized it was the drain clearing. It took my best measures of self control to keep from jumping up and down. My place has really lame construction quality and I pictured jumping up and landing finally in the tub a floor below Laurel & Hardy style. Of course with the plumbing the way it is, the stuff I cleared is probably now partnering with other blockages to necessitate a serious call from the handyman for a full snaking, but for now I bask in my small victory. It feels great to rock at small home repair skills.

How Wilder Ruined Cheap Salmon for Me

How Wilder Ruined Cheap Salmon for Me
Originally uploaded by baglady

It was recently pointed out to me that farm-raised salmon is died that perfect color orange of actual wild salmon. I grew up during the whole Red Dye #3 or whatever causes cancer phase and just can't stomach the thought of dyes in ma belly. This is the package of the last farm-raised salmon I baked for ma famille. It was delicious and everyone asked for seconds. I'm not sure it's just the dye that bothers me after also hearing Wilder go on about what sounded like the Simpson's three-eyed fish, Blinky, and the ills of genetic inbreeding.

Thanks for spurring me to write this with your post and here, Happy, is your collective "ewwwww" on the count of three...

Tumor Confessional

Reading CrazyAuntPurl's most recent post reminded me of a similar issue I experienced. Not too long ago, I noticed a lump under my right ribs. I have had other upsetting surprises and my response is to not tell anyone and alternate between forgetting about it and worrying. I spent lots of time jabbing at it and was casually worried it was a bona fide tumor.

The thing I hate most about leaving my 20's is the change in metabolism and how everything wants to embrace my middle. There is a reason it is called a waist (waste). I used to have a tiny waist, especially compared to what is above and all that is behind. I like to say I have so much junk in the trunk, I need a garage sale. It was with this thought that I decided at a minimum that I needed desperately to start some kind of stomach exercises. Of course I am doing way too many things and my brain can't hold another, especially one so contrary to my geeky, introspective lifestyle.

I realized at mass one week that it contains many opportunities to do stomach exercises, basically every time you kneel. For those of you who aren't Catholic, that is a good three times during mass and a fourth if you get there early. (I am not counting the first time you do it going into the pew or the last getting out). I began multitasking with the stomach exercises just every Sunday. It seemed silly, but after a while I didn't even notice and it didn't interrupt contemplation at all (that would have made me feel guilty and we do not want that!).

It seemed dumb because my stomach, or stomachs as I call them, were just the same blubbery masses as before. I knew it would take more effort, physically activity and cutting back on favorite vice foods, but didn't have more mental energy to spend on it. A good month into my secret stomach muscle worship exercises, came the tumor; I am such a dolt I didn't even connect the two. Luckily after a week of thinking it was a tumor, making the kids give me their opinion, I noticed during church, pain was in the tumor spot while kneeling. This lump in my upper stomach was a muscle - gasp!

Mark Bittman: Killer of Tomatoes

Either I failed Mark Bittman or he failed me with his lousy (LOUSY), did I mention? LOUSY recipe for Gazpacho. Everyone says East Coast tomatoes are totally different and that is my hope at why this recipe was so beyond bad. I love his "Joy of Cooking" sized tome, "How to Cook Everything", but trust me, it does not include how to cook - or assemble - Gazpacho. I bought almost a full grocery bag of vegetables; save one cucumber it was to the letter of what he proscribed. It made something that would not only didn't fit in my blender, but looked and smelled like barf. I am very acquainted with barf (morning sickness) and this was an excellent facsimile of what is in your stomach after lunch. When I was finished, it took me a while to come to terms with the fact that I had taken a few pounds of beautiful tomatoes, a cucumber, lovely french bread, etc. and turned it into something that would only be served at a shellbacking event. To add insult to injury, in the day it took me to decide to just pour it down the sink, it made my fridge smell like said upchuck. I suppose I should just be thankful that I didn't clog my sink. /rant. Okay I feel a little better about this now, but I will not be making Gazpacho for a while.

When Drugs Meet the Holocaust

I was up really late studying for a midterm on drug policy last night. Even though I should have been focusing on my midterm, I had just started the sequel to an amazing book/comic book/memoir on the Holocaust, Maus by Art Spiegelman. I switched gears and read it even later despite my worries that it would keep me up, since the subject is pretty heavy. I slept fine, but had a dream that David Hasselhoff was sheepishly hiding out at a coffee house feeling guilty. Right in the middle of this two rival gangs start shooting and I don't know what happened to Hasselhoff, but I tried to hide inside and found myself with glass walls on either side. All I could figure out when I woke up was that I was thinking about bad things that happened in Germany and things that Germany should feel bad about which reminded me of David Hasselhoff's popularity in Germany (not that in my real mind do I equate the ridiculous notion of his celebrity there with something as serious as the Holocaust). This reminded me of Hasselhoff's recent drunk video which tied in with what I was studying re: alcohol consumption. Equally confusing was why gangs would clash in drug-related violence at a coffee shop since it was the antithesis of what I had been studying. (There is some gang activity and violence related to drugs, but lots of drug dealers aren't in gangs, lots of gang members don't deal drugs, yada yada yada or however you would spell that). To add to my confusion Hasselhoff has not made it to any dream dictionaries :-/.

Important Signs to be Familiar With

I am going to resume the genocide paper in .5 seconds, I really am. Kind of seems right considering what today is for me (for me to know and you not to find out, unless you knew me in the 90's and have a really good memory):

Gnome Poo(h)

I found the best vending machine ever at Ranch 99 yesterday. I was hoping to get the gnome or slug Pooh, but am happy with my Peek-A-Pooh Flower Pot Pooh.
I tried using it on my cell phone, but found it too hard to get out of my pocket and it kept snagging my ear buds. I wish I could buy them individually. I am also interested in Cancer Pooh, Mole Pooh, Bush Baby Pooh, Octopus Pooh and most ironic of all time, Yule Log Pooh.

Who Knew? Putin's Poodle

That's right folks - he's almost through his second term and I just found out that he has a poodle:



How did I miss that? I wonder if any US presidents have ever owned poodles while in office? It's hard to picture, unless it was their "wife's dog". Apparently he has been seen with many types of animals, including some more macho varieties of pooches. For your gratitous amusement from English Russia:

It has been said that one can show his real face only when he is sure that nobody is watching him or when he is playing with animals. Many people are asking a question “Who is Mr. Putin?”, maybe these photos can give them a clue.

All Things Maternal

Home playing nurse is giving me a quick chance to debrief you on some of my most recent and odd web findings. I've been having fun looking at etsy.com, a place where people sell homemade crafts. I aspire to also do so, but most of my crafts are kits and totally unoriginal, which isn't allowed. While perusing the site, I found tons of cute things to buy for myself or as gifts. Also stumbled upon was a boutique with Rockstar Maternity clothing. Check out this AC/DC rock cardigan:



I also discovered an active topic on how to sell breastmilk. My favorite reply was from BrassMonkeyDesigns about the potential audience:

My sister worked with a woman who used a breast pump at work and kept her milk in the fridge there. The lady caught a guy pouring it into his coffee. She said there was NO way it was an accident because it was very clearly labelled.

Kirkout...

Disco Stewashvilli

Best quote of the day from the WSJ, "Hard solutions don't work in these situations," Mr. Saakashvilli said. "But I think the EU often underestimates its own soft power. Let's try the disco approach."

- regarding the Georgian President's appeal to the EU for keeping things together in the South Ossetia region through the building of discos and sports centers.

Emo Unearthed

Yes, the blog is finally back and so is that sad, emo mood it takes to sit here blogging. I am dressed appropriately in one of my favorite cardigans. What have I been doing since I posted my last blogilicious post? A serious amount of reading and baking. Cookies (chocolate cayenne pepper), bread (banana, orange cranberry), cakes (red velvet), brownies, pies (pumpkin, apple). I made lots of caramels and so much fudge that I still have some in my fridge from Christmas.