Category: Life

Family, Food, History, Home, Humor, Life March 10, 2010July 29, 2010

My Love-to-Hate Affair With Mac & Cheese

“At least she’s eating better things than macaroni and cheese.”
– Heidi Klum

latin_cursive — Translation of fragment: "Mac and Cheese is food fit for dogs. And Gauls. Go Rome!"

Throughout my life my mother has been in school, in some capacity or another. When I was about three or four, she had to leave Dad and I for a few weeks to finish up something or other with one of her degrees (I misremember which. Which isn’t me being a bad daughter, it’s her having one in Asian Studies, one in American History, and now another in Classical Studies from Cambridge because she decided to learn Greek and Latin. In other words, my mother is exceptionally awesome). Time has blurred the details a bit but as I recall, this was an absolute highlight of my short life because Dad and I subsisted on mainly pizza.

I didn’t realize this during the Great Pizza Blitz, but it turned out that my Dad hated cooking. Really hated it. He encouraged my Mum to go to school, continue her education throughout her life, and work if she wanted, but by golly the one thing he wanted was dinner to be on the table, because left up to him, dinner would come grudgingly from a frozen package.

So, a few years down the road when she decided to teach for a semester or two at a local university, I thought the Pizza Affair would be reborn. I was sadly, terrifyingly mistaken.

Mac and Cheese. From a box. Every night. Some days even for lunch. Sometimes we varied it up with chunks of hotdog, but mostly not. Again, I’m sure both time and horror have worked their magic on me and the vile orange sludge was not as prolific as I remember, but it sure seemed like it at the time. When my mother’s teaching finished, I refused to eat another disgusting, processed bite, and I’ve never touched it since. Once when shopping J. picked up a box for himself on days when I’d be at school late or he needed a lunch, I had to swallow escaping bile.

However, watching Food Network the other day, I saw a recipe for ‘Grown Up Mac And Cheese’ and thought suddenly to myself, “That doesn’t look so bad.” It sounded pretentious enough that I could assure myself that it would be as un-Kraft-like as possible, but looked really easy to make. So, on Sunday I girded my loins and made Mac and Cheese for the first time in years.

And you know what? It was pretty darned tasty!

**I’ll still never make the packaged stuff again. My children will not be subjected to this powdered cheese monstrosity, except to survive the Zombie Apocalypse. And even then, I might choose death.

Humor, Life, Marriage, Money February 16, 2010February 16, 2010

Dollars and Sense

“So…we’re not eating out again until after, approximately, the birth of our third child.”
– C.

Indy, though a blessed luxury after four years without a car, does come with a certain amount of wear and tear. She’s 12 years old and I’m increasingly of the opinion her previous owner didn’t love her as I do.

We came back from Christmas to find her battery (the one she came with: a secondhand, refurbished one at that!) had died. J.’s parents had generously bought us a new one for a Christmas present but when they were bringing her back to life, the mechanic said we should keep an eye on our timing belt because it was obviously old and cracked. Also a mount and filter needed to be replaced (thanks, Indy’s negligent previous owner).

cartoon18 — As far as I can tell, you should be dead. But I will charge you an arm, leg, and that third child you mentioned to fix it.

So, when I took her in to get her oil changed yesterday, I batted my eyelashes and asked the mechanics if they could pretty please also check the belts for me because I was ever so worried about them (no charge!). Unfortunately I went to pick her up I got some scary news. Both the timing and driving belts seemed to be in immediate danger of molecular disintegration. And even a non-tech type like me knows that when those go, the entire car goes. They recommended immediate replacement but as it was already late afternoon and as it was going to be “at least a half day job,” they said the earliest they would be able to do it was today.

This morning I drove J. to school and then to the shop to be there when they opened at 8am thinking that, as they said it would be a half day thing and they are first come first serve, everything would be done by noon and I could go into work after lunch. I dropped Indy off and then walked the half mile home.

I’d just got to the door when I realized I’d turned all of my keys over to the mechanics and was locked out, and our landlord would be no help because J. and I had just changed the bolt lock. Sigh. I trudged back to the shop, sheepishly asked for my keys and headed back home grumbling. My grumbling increased exponentially forty minutes later when the shop called to explain that the water pump attached to the belt was leaking everywhere and needed to be fixed as well. Don’t worry, I didn’t let them charge me double labor.

stepford-bg — I achieved this crazed expression sometime around 1pm. It was hyperactively downhill from there.

The rest of the day I spent checking my phone every ten minutes to see if the shop had called. I did five loads of laundry, scrubbed the kitchen counters and floor, and cleaned our room. I rang Susie every two hours to update her and explain that I was still fully planning on coming into work, until about 3 when I became resigned to my fate. I watched two full movies on AMC while I folded clothes, as well as part of the Westminster Kennel Club dog show. I’d gone verifiably stir crazy by 11. When I began looking around the flat and thinking of decorating ideas I realized I’d reached a Stepford Level of Battiness. They called at 4:50 to say they had finished.

Praise be to Jupiter, Odin, and Quetzalcoatl that we have a Pell Grant to cover tuition and a fat tax return on its way (hurrah for being young, poor, at university, newly married, and living on a tiny income!), as well the fact that we like to save money for just such circumstances. It’s a steep bill buts it’s cheaper than a new car! I’m glad we’ve got the means and common sense to take care of ourselves, I just wish it wasn’t so bloody expensive sometimes.

The downside: $800.00 and an even larger pile of work on my desk tomorrow.
The upside: three day work week and clean laundry.

Humor, Life, Office, Work February 5, 2010February 5, 2010

Chivalry is Dead

“Always be nice to secretaries. They are the real gatekeepers in the world.”
– Anthony J. D’Angelo

Not an hour into work and with stacks of paperwork already piled high on our desks, both the copier and shredder broke causing a swell of panic on the secretaries’ part. Wise, Susie, and I dove into action. After the right combination of kicking, bashing, praying, and human sacrifice was accomplished the copier shuddered, whirred, and started working again and we moved our attention to the shredder. Then my phone rang and there was a grouchy state attorney on the line, and Amanda was dragged off to do a record expungement leaving Susie to wrestle with the machinery.

In sauntered Lt. Figaro (late as usual) and he meandered up to Susie and started talking.

I imagine that if the officers ever did take the initiative to fix their own problems, the secretaries' reaction to the resulting chaos would look something like this.

While I looked up records for the attorney I watched her stick her arm and fingers into the mechanisms to fix a blockage while he told the story of an African student he knew (which is really inspirational, don’t get me wrong). As she dragged the whole thing away from the wall to poke around the electrical hookups he led into the differences of education in multiple countries, which turned naturally to American politics. When she dragged the bag of shredded paper out of its compartment (which was nearly as big as she is and threatened to spill out everywhere) he reached his crescendo:
“And that is just what the terrorists want! They want to make us feel inferior and inadequate! We can’t let the terrorists win!”

At which point the attorney let me go and I was able to scurry back in time to keep the mess from tipping over and shove the whole contraption back into place.

“Good job, girls,” Figaro said and went back to his office to take a nap or something.

Family, Holidays, Life, Marriage, Travel January 5, 2010

Six Month Anniversary

“So, every once and while I look up and go, ‘Oh, hey! We have a fan in our kitchen,’ because I forget about it and you have these short little arms that can’t reach.”
“Shut up!”
-J. and C.

We spent January 1, 2010 flying in from London at 2am, crashing at my in-laws so we wouldn’t have to drive home at that ungodly hour, sleeping until 10 (jet lag), and lounging around waiting for nieces and nephews…who didn’t show up until ten minutes after we left, reading The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie (which I couldn’t put down, go read it at once!), and crawling pitifully back in bed for a fitful night’s sleep.

It was also our six month anniversary.

Now, J. might have an awful penchant for cracking short jokes, think that me getting furious is about the funniest thing possible, and not do the dishes as often as I would wish, but he also tolerates my stupid TV shows, kisses me at every opportunity, and flat-out orders me to a masseuse when my jet lag weariness won’t abate.

And that, my dears, is a very nice sort of husband to have. I am terribly fond of him!

(Editor’s note: YES! England trip updates are coming, I just keep forgetting to upload the – very sparse – photos we took!)

Humor, Life, School, Snark, University, Work December 15, 2009December 15, 2009

Thwarted

“I don’t need to compromise my principles because they don’t have the slightest bearing on what happens to me anyway.”
– Bill Watterson, Calvin and Hobbes

Chief has squashed my plan of taking a class this coming semester to prep for grad school. The reason given is that Wise (who is enrolled in the very program I’m after) has a lot more leeway to take classes since she doesn’t have a front desk position and work with the public as I do. A decision that makes sense on paper, and which I can grudgingly understand…if it were not for the fact that several police officers and other supervisors for the department take classes very frequently, often for multiple semesters in a row (and shouldn’t police officers deal with the public just as much, if not more than me?). AND if it were also not for the department history and manifesto I retyped and edited four days ago, containing an entire paragraph about how the department strongly encourages and accommodates the further education of its employees through university classes.

Although I find the logic painfully baffling, I also understand that it’s an executive decision on the Chief’s part which, in all fairness, he did mull over for several days (before crushing it into tiny, tiny pieces). And though I admit I wish I could throw my level-headed acceptance of this ruling out the window and throw a (mild) tantrum, that’s not really my style.

I prefer weaseling around the problem. I’ve enrolled in some independent study courses and am looking into evening classes as well, which fall outside supervisor oversight. It’s annoying to try to get into them at this late date, but I have at least three terms between now and when my application would be turned in so I have plenty of time to formulate a new plan of attack!

untitled — Small Dog is feeling, er...bulldogish.

I could switch departments (unlikely with the hiring freeze, but I won’t rule it out). My French course, offered through independent study, could potentially count as my final language requirement and remove all obstacles. I could say, “To Hades with it all!” and become a full-time student again (plunging us back into poverty, but only for a year or couple of semesters towards the end of J.s degree – very unlikely, but still possible depending on my level of desperation). I could stage a coup and overthrow the school, take the president hostage, and demand he let me take my one single class (extremely unlikely).

There are options, my darlings.

Drama, Humor, Life, Marriage, Shameful, Work December 11, 2009December 11, 2009

The Emotional Equivelent of “LA LA LA! I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

“Why the HELL didn’t I continue with French?!”
“Don’t swear.”
“Why the CUSS didn’t I continue with French?”
“Well, you can take classes.”
“Yes but if I don’t do well, and I haven’t studied it for three years, it will affect my GPA which will affect my application. CUSS CUSS CUSS!”
– C. and J.

We all have them, but for about a month or so I’ve been going through a right awful funk. And although I wish I could say I’ve been keeping it under wraps, I’m afraid it’s been spilling over a bit. I’ve gotten noticeably sharp with people, even friends, short-tempered at work, and bitter about small things that have just seemed to mount on top of each other. It culminated last night in a meeting for J.’s new fraternity for accountants when I was exhausted and stressed. I tried to be funny but only succeeded in being rude, and collapsed in a sobbing pile of guilt when we got home.

Unfortunately, I’m a bottler: I keep things locked up inside until the inevitable explosion that tends to leave a wake of destruction. And even though we’ve all been told time and time again that this is not a healthy way to live, so many of us keep doing it because it has some obvious immediate benefits.

My problems are petty and selfish, but that doesn’t make them irrelevant or mean they don’t affect my life.

– I’m in a state of constant frustration that I spent four years getting an education, but work in a job that has nothing to do with what I studied (the European Studies field is not exactly conducive to jobs in the Western United States).

– I don’t really like living where we do.

– Truthfully, I had this plan post-graduation, which involved me moving back to England. I am an ENTJ, I frame my life in these little plans and get frustrated when they don’t come to fruition. It wouldn’t matter if common sense, good counsel, or God changed my plans, I’d still get annoyed/angry if things didn’t work out the way that I had intended. (Which I absolutely think happened in my decision to get married and stay in the States, and which I still think is probably the best decision I’ve made for myself. It’s just not what I thought was in the cards a year and a half ago; that’s what makes my little control-freak, inner Napoleon jump up and down howling, “Zees was not le plan!”)

– I miss being in school and recently came to the conclusion, after much deliberation, that I wanted to pursue grad school. And seeing as I can take classes for free, a perk of working for a university, why not? Problem A) my major, which I loved and would not hesitate to choose again, did not really prepare me for any of the graduate degrees offered here. My emphasis was in history and they have removed the MA in History degree (an idiotic move if ever there was one!).
Problem B) the next best degree, and one I am really interested in due to the interdisciplinary nature of the program, requires more classes in French. Which, if I want to get into the program beginning this coming fall, I’d need to complete in record time. A troublesome goal if one works full-time. Oh! And I’d need to take the GRE in about a month.

Mostly, I feel stuck. I can’t progress (at least immediately) in the way I want my education to go, we aren’t leaving this area (at least immediately) for a small eternity, and I can’t pursue my own interests (at least immediately) due to duty to my family.

And I’m the most impatient person I know!

There are treatments. Obviously I need to take better care of myself. I don’t work out anymore [again] and I’ve noticed that I haven’t been eating enough, which would put anyone in a strop. I also don’t have any pursuits outside of work right now, and that’s soul-numbing. I’m committed to grad school, but will I kill myself trying to make it happen all at once (or at least before the March application deadline)? Maybe I should make it a goal for next year and work more slowly and steadily towards it instead of trying to rush it.

Weigh in, friends. Had a minor life crisis recently? Plans get disrupted? Get impatient with goals that are attainable, but seem so far off?

Fashion, Humor, Life, Working Out November 12, 2009

Those Are The Mightiest Calves I Ever Have Seen! …I Mean…

“Remember, Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, but backwards and in high heels.”
-Faith Whittlesey

Thank goodness we’ve moved into colder weather, where my work wardrobe can do me some good! However, it has been brought to my attention that looking nice at work can have some unforeseen consequences. Apart from the expanding waistline (that comes from less exercise)…wearing some sort of heel everyday has apparently given my calves such a workout that they are getting bigger. To the point that my nice boots are snug!

A girl can’t win…

Food, Home, Humor, Life, Marriage November 4, 2009November 4, 2009

Seasoned

“No look, I’ll show you.”
Pause.
“Wow. I was just about to lift up my shirt and then I thought, ‘No, there’s got to be a better way…'”
– Kay

I love my husband. I do. But I am more convinced than ever that he married me purely for the entertainment. Last night, we both collapsed in the door feeling generally beaten about by the world (him from mid-terms, me from work), and dove straight into pajamas. I was freezing so, against my will, I grudgingly pulled on my only long sleeve pajama top: a gray one with the words, “You, Me, and the Mistletoe” emblazoned across it that’s been in storage for a year. (I’m breaking one of my cardinal holiday rules: one at a time!) However, feeling toasty I forgave myself my Thanksgiving-overlooking indiscretion and happily relaxed, allowing J. to eat macaroni and cheese to his heart’s content while I finished off leftovers…until after we had cleaned up and I snuggled up against him for a hug…he leaned into my neck and smelled me.

Not adorable “I love your perfume” smelling, or even “I’m just trying to annoy you by doing weird things” smelling. Full on, “There’s something wrong here” smelling.

dash “What?” I demanded, pulling away.
“No! Come back!” he yanked me back against him, leaning down to bury his nose in my shoulder.
“What on earth is wrong with you!”
“You smell funny.” Deep inhale again.
“Hey!”
“No, I mean you smell…” he sucked another sniff down before declaring, “like seasoned salt, or spices.” A pause. “Why?”
“You’re just picking on me.”
“No I’m not, take of your shirt and smell.”
“Of all the stupid-”
“I’m serious!”

Not only did I get my shirt ridiculously caught on my elbow (and therefore stuck), I didn’t even need to get it over my head before the unmistakable whiff of Cajun seasonings hit me full in the face.

The great question for me is not J.’s “Why?” …but “How?!”

Family, Friends, Humor, Life, Marriage, Wedding October 26, 2009March 31, 2010

By Popular (Loud and Incessant) Demand

You demanded, Small Dog complied! Our wedding, in slideshow form, we apologize in advance for the crazy format:

With just a couple months away, C. and J. take pictures and try not to take everything too seriously.

L'Artiste tells C. to practice looking "sultry," C. bursts out laughing after the camera flashes.

C. is just glad she got veil and shoes figured out. J. is just glad C. can stop agonizing about it.

The whole clan meets up (the day before The Day), luckily everyone seems to get on well! It'd be a shame to back out at this point.

...Although...all this family can be a little overwhelming. Meeting/marrying into a clan, not for the feint of heart! — ...Although...all this family can be a little overwhelming. Meeting/marrying into a clan, not for the faint of heart!

No, not their six secret illegitimate children, C.'s newly acquired nieces and nephews!

Atticus, Darling, J., C. (who can't look at the right camera), Mama, Dad

J. chills with Scotticus, Cakes, and Bear...

...while C. gets fixed by Venice and Peregrine (AKA, 2/4 the greatest bridesmaid team ever)!

The complete gang: Snickers, Venice, Marie, Peregrine

Dad cracks guests up with the parents' viewpoint into our relationship.

Ring Ceremony, close up of my pretty engagement ring. Green!

The gorgeous spread...which we didn't get a bite of...

Good thing we got cake (red velvet!) to tide us over...but we still had to get fast food on the way to the carwash to get rid of our mutual brothers' handiwork in decorating it.

Speaking of! Here are mine, goofing off with the flowers.

Godfamily in the foreground. Early in the evening. Hostess said we had over 400 people, glad I didn't have to herd them!

Unfortunately, you don’t get to see the video of my dad completely showing up J. in the dancing section of the evening. But it didn’t matter so much because after I tossed the bouquet and we cut the cake, the real party started! Dancing, mayhem, the usual. Apparently we were partying too fast to be seen, because half of those pictures didn’t turn out at all! But there, your insatiable appetites must be satisfied by now!

Family, Home, Humor, Life, Marriage September 23, 2009September 24, 2009

Married Alive

“So, you liking married life?”
“No.”
(awkward pause)
“Wait! I mean, I love being married to J. but being married itself is hard!”
“K…”
-Daae and C., who was not paying proper attention to the question

If we're being honest, though, let's admit that as long as we're not at this point, we're doing rather well!

Now, my other young married girl friends, back me up (especially us breadwinners Angel, Jane, Venice, Daae, and the rest of you!), it was a bit of an adjustment when someone took Beyonce’s advice and put a ring on it, wasn’t it? There are dozens of variations on this theme, but they all involve trading total independence for total inter-dependence and that, my dears, is no easy feat!

See, everyone tells you that being married is work and tries to warn you, but nothing prepares you for the reality of factoring in another human being into every decision you make. And nothing can even hope to brace you for the blow that comes from being utterly independent (parents in another country, never asking for money, graduating, travelling, etc., all on one’s own), and then being the sole supporter of a newly minted family!

No more sharing bills with flatmates, extra money now goes towards feedings this guy (who eats approximately 56 times as much as you do, rough estimate), and say goodbye to nearly all your free time! Lunch breaks for me ever since we got married have been spent running errands, getting my name changed on everything imaginable, and putting him on my various policies. Evenings are spent shuttling us around to our various commitments, and I’m the only chauffeur as J.’s ability to drive a manual aren’t up to par. On top of which, the flat, cable, electricity, gas, car, insurance, and only full-time job we’ve got is all on my head. And laundry, because J. hates it (which is ok, because I flat out refuse to touch dirty dishes).

Much to my chagrin, this look usually makes J. laugh. Which is odd, because I've found to be very effective in other aspects of my life...but my husband think's it's hilarious. — Much to Small Dog's chagrin, this look usually makes J. laugh. Which is odd, because I've found to be very effective in other aspects of my life...but my husband think's it's hilarious.

Occasionally I get stressed out/mildly resentful of all this change slapped on at once. Busiest time of year at work, J. starting his program (which is one of the top ranked in the country) and therefore falling off the planet, and adjusting to living with a new spouse, with all the curious incidents that entails.

But I am fortunately/unfortunately married to a person who absolutely understands the way my busy little mind works. So when the stress gets to be too much, J. cracks a joke or makes a rather ill-timed comment, and I turn freezingly silent for hours/days while I try to reign in my temper…as soon as I emerge from my little nuclear winters, J. can say, “I understand,” and I know he means it.

Small Dog Syndrome