12 Easy Steps

The whole “dating my husband for 30 seconds” remark in my last post prompted a friend of mine to tell me that I need to explain myself more fully and to ask (jokingly, I’m assuming) how she could find herself in a similar situation. I started writing a reply to her comment but that turned into a post of its own. So, for the benefit of “Michemily” and any other interested parties, here is my guide to getting engaged in approximately 30 seconds:

1) Get your mission call to the Baltics.
2) Start dating a great guy, but dismiss him as your "hiking buddy" or some other non-threatening term.
3) Fall head-over-heels in love with him
4) Say no the first two times he proposes to you because A) You are absolutely NOT going to get married before you are 25, have a Master’s degree, and have visited all 7 continents; B) You are committed to this whole mission thing, DUH; and
C) There is no way you are marrying someone you have dated less than 2 months.
5) Spend the next few days feeling completely miserable, crying more than you have in your entire life, and fielding questions from all the concerned friends and relatives that ask you (in more euphemistic terms, of course), why you look like a complete train wreck.
6) Finally come to your senses the night before you are supposed to leave.
7) Meet up with Future Husband to apologize for the hell you have put the both of you through, and politely ask him to pose that question to you again.
8) Say yes this time.
9) Celebrate
10) Figure out what in the world you are going to do with 2 suitcases full of calf-length black skirts, homely button-up shirts in “conservative” colors, and all the other items that are going to be useless now that you are no longer going to be spending the next 18 months in the frigid climates of Estonia, Latvia, or Lithuania.
11) Curse the Sister Missionary Mall and their shortsighted return policies.
12) Live Happily Ever After

Our New Digs

Well, I can now officialy add "homeowner" to the list of titles I never thought I would hold at age 22 (wife, grad school dropout, corporate slave, etc.).

Internet, say hello to Babe, the Big Blue House. OK, maybe not so big but she is definitely blue. We're talking blue carpet, blue paint, etc. Which is why Babe is in need of a makeover. But husband and I feel up to the task, so wish us luck! And come visit us sometime. We will let you stay in the spare bedroom covered in dinosaur wallpaper.

* In a related note, can someone please explain to me why, given that I declared my major the second I started college and decided to marry my husband after dating him for approximately 30 seconds, I cannot for the life of me decide what color of paint or carpet I want?

Confession

I have checked Hotel Rwanda out at the library at least a dozen times and have yet to watch it. I always have the best of intentions when I take it down from the shelf- I tell myself that this time will be different, that this time I will actually sit down and experience the film that so many people have talked up as powerful, moving, inspiring, etc.

Only here's the thing. What I do know of the Rwandan conflict already depresses me to no end, and, since my movie watching time is fairly limited as of late, I rarely want to spend it absorbed in a tale of genocide, even if it does highlight some of the brighter aspects of humanity.

So has anyone out there seen this movie? Am I missing out by shoving it aside in favor of more lighthearted fare, or is it safe to say that if I've seen Schindler's List I can just picture that going down in Africa and call it good? Would love to hear your thoughts.

Supersize THIS

What do you do when Husband's cold prevents the two of you from having that fancy schmancy Valentine's Day dinner at Cucina Toscana? Why, head to the local McDonald's of course!

Obviously there is a story behind this latest escapade since those of you that know me probably know that I am not the world's biggest fan of fast food chains, meaning I will only eat that crap if there is nothing else available within a 50 mile radius. The story is this: Once upon a time Butch and I discovered that neither one of us had ever consumed that famous perpetuator of American obesity known as the Big Mac. This made us feel very unpatriotic and elitist, plus reading this blog made me wonder if I was missing out on something fantastic. So one night we decided to bite the bullet and indulge our curiosity. Here is the evidence:

Don't know why Mike decided to make a sad face for this picture. Maybe the fact that he was about to consume a million grams of saturated fat troubled him.


Two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun!


The verdict? About as mediocre as I expected. You could taste all the other ingredients more than you could the burger, which was probably a tender mercy since those alleged "all beef patties" were grey, shriveled, and straight-up nasty looking. Why anyone would consume Big Macs on a regular basis when you can get a quality cheeseburger- one that looks like it is made of actual beef- at Apollo Burger for roughly the same price is still a mystery to me.

So sorry McDonald's, but it doesn't look like I will be joining the ranks of the "billions and billions served" anytime soon. When it comes to culinary guilty pleasures, my heart remains loyal to the Taco Bell seven layer burrito.

Yeah, I know Garnett was injured, but STILL

Oh. My. Land. I love the Jazz. First the Lakers, and now the Celtics? All I can say is I hope this streak lasts because if we go back to being the piss-poor team we were earlier this season I just might lose all hope forever.
Elder Harpring celebrating in a very dignified manner after gaurding Paul Pierce like a champ and scoring 8 points in 18 minutes. I heart Harpring and his scrappy football player ways.

I wish I could have found a picture of Millsap's sexy 3-point play in the 4th quarter, but it was not meant to be. You will just have to picture that beautiful sight in your minds.

I love these boys! GO JAZZ!!!

Another Reason to Curse the Groundhog

There is a certain old man that happens to use the gym at work the same time I do. And every time I see him in there he has the TV turned to CMT, a channel that apparently plays country music videos all day long. This wouldn't be such a problem, only he turns the volume up so freaking loud that even my ipod playing at full capacity cannot drown out the wretched noise.

If I were a brave soul, I would probably tell this man that listening to Rascal Flats makes me lose my will to live, let alone run 5 miles, and could he please turn the volume down a little before I have a full-fledged nervous breakdown? Or, if I was a true Good Samaritan, I could give him an Arcade Fire CD that would make him realize the error of his ways and perhaps change his life forever.

Apparently I am neither of these things, though, because my method of coping with this situation involves clenching my teeth and wondering how much longer it’s going to be before I can exercise outside again instead of on this blasted machine.

Valentine's Post, Part Two

I was going to delay this post to write about the glorious victory of the Jazz over the Lakers, but you need only see Megan’s awesome post to get my feelings on that subject.

So instead let me continue my discourse on Valentine’s Day. If my earlier post did not convince you of the loveliness of this holiday, let me just mention one word: chocolate. I think one of the reasons I love Valentine’s so much is because this is a holiday in which Chocolate Is King. And not just your run-of-the-mill kitkats and Hershey bars that the true candy junkies favor, but decadent, quality chocolate that makes my soul sing. Some may prefer heart-shaped sugar cookies or cupcakes, but for me this is the time of year that I drool over chocolate-covered strawberries on display in the window of Godiva and ponder the mystery of why Dove promises taste so much better when they are shaped like hearts.

So, in honor of the season, I have posted a recipe for what I think is the quintessential Valentine’s Day dessert. It’s not cutesy or overly sweet, just filled with an intense, warm chocolate flavor. Downright sexy, really.

This recipe comes from the cookbook How to be a Domestic Goddess: Baking and the Art of Comfort Cooking by Nigella Lawson, and, as the name implies, produces individually portioned chocolate cakes that are runny in the middle. Ice cream on the side is an absolute necessity.

Molten Chocolate Babycakes

Ingredients:
scant 1/4 cup soft unsalted butter, plus more for greasing
12 ounces best bittersweet chocolate (I stock up when ghirardelli is on sale)
1/2 cup sugar
4 large eggs, beaten with a pinch of salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/3 cup all-purpose flour

6 individual 6-ounce custard cups
baking parchment

1) Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Put in a baking sheet at the same time.
2) Lay 3 of the custard cups on a sheet of doubled baking parchment. Trace around them, then cut out the discs as marked and press into the base of the greased cups.
3) Melt the chocolate and let it cool slightly.
4) Cream together the butter and sugar, then gradually beat in the eggs and salt, then the vanilla.
5) Add the flour, and when it is all blended add the melted chocolate and blend to a smooth batter.
6) Divide the batter among the 6 cups and place them on the baking sheet in the oven.
7) Bake for 10-12 minutes (12 minutes if you make the batter up ahead of time and refrigerate it in the cups).
8) Tip each babycake out onto a small plate or shallow bowl. Add a big scoop of vanilla ice cream. Serve immediately.

Note: You can make this batter up ahead of time and refrigerate it in the custard cups. I have even made them up a day or so in advance and they came out just fine. Also, if you don’t need to make all six, the recipe works just fine when halved.

Valentine's Day Manifesto, Part 1

I have always loved Valentine’s Day, even though I didn’t celebrate it with a significant other until I was 21. Which is why it seriously bugs me that so many people get so down on this holiday, labeling it “Single Awareness Day” and acting all bitter over the fact that they are unattached when February 14th rolls around.

Maybe I am crazy and seriously immature, but why does Valentine’s Day have to be all about romance and Hallmark-style sentiment? I think a lot of people would agree that Valentine’s Day was most enjoyable in the Elementary School era, when it consisted of decorating boxes, bringing them to school, and having them filled with candy and Ninja Turtle valentines. Cookies and punch were also usually involved. Whatever happened to that mentality- to Valentine’s being a day when you could just celebrate the fact that there is love in the world and enjoy a nice sugar rush while you’re at it?

For those of you out there that are rolling your eyes right now, thinking “sure she loves Valentine’s Day, she’s married for crying out loud”, let me provide an example to illustrate the point I’m making here. A couple of years ago, my little sister Smash and I were both single and used Valentine’s Day as an opportunity to execute one of our more white-trash ideas, namely a Little Debbie Taste Test. We had walked past those snack cakes so many times in the grocery store, always wondering if they tasted as gross as they looked. So we thought, why not invite friends over to help us find out?

On Valentine’s Day, a bunch of our girlfriends came over, each bringing a box of some preservative-filled Little Debbie treat and the most mockable crapfest movie they could think of (multiple selections featured the Olsen twins). Smash and I put up Valentine’s Day decorations and provided the “real” refreshments for cleansing our palettes after the cream-filled calorie fest. The night was spent talking, laughing, marveling at the sheer nastiness of oatmeal cream pies, and mocking the Duff sisters and their unfortunate attempts at acting. No one wallowed in self pity, bemoaned their single status, or agonized over the fact that there just didn’t seem to be any men like Mr. Darcy out there. In short, the night was a throwback to a simpler time, when Valentine's Day meant fun and merriment, and was totally devoid of any bitter overtones.

So the way I figure it, there are few days in the year set aside to celebrate- why ruin a perfectly good one by adopting a “woe is me” attitude? Even if you are not dating someone, there are still cards to make, friends to entertain, family members to show appreciation for, and (my personal favorite) lots of sugar to consume. I’m thinking next year I might try to spread Valentine’s Day cheer by throwing a party for friends (single and married alike), where we decorate boxes and hand out valentines, just like the good old days. Sadly, though, I think I am the only one that would find this exciting. Which is why the world is kind of a lame place sometimes.

A Good Man Is Hard to Find, or Why I Need to Stop Looking At Trashy Magazines While In Line at the Grocery Store

Dear Christian Bale,

Why oh why did you have to turn out to be a raging loon? Couldn't you have just toned down the insane public outbursts so I could keep picturing you as floppy-haired Laurie or smoldering Bruce Wayne without having that lovely image tarnished by a myriad of f-bombs?

Perhaps it will comfort you to know that you are not the only member of my movie star harem to disappoint me recently. Mulder is apparently a sex addict in rehab (wonder what those 12 steps look like...) and Djimoun Hounsou (sexy black guy in Gladiator) is dating Kimora Lee Simmons, otherwise known as the Trashiest Woman Ever.

So it looks like my list of celebrity crushes is sadly tarnished. Once Paul Millsap starts clubbing baby seals I will have no one to drool over while watching TV. Too bad I am not a George Clooney kind of gal-he helps people in Africa and whatnot. Your Kind could take a little cue from him, Mr. Bale.

I guess I don't need to start feeling too sorry for myself, though, since I have this decidedly non-crazy person to come home to in real life:

But still. Get your freaking act together. And make a Newsies sequel.

Love,

Dasha

I Heart PMS

I work for a great company. Besides providing awesome benefits, quarterly bonuses, etc., they also take a great interest in the physical health of their employees. They provide a gym in the building for employee use, a discount on the "healthy choices" offered in the cafeteria, and various incentives for employees that make significant lifestyle changes. There are signs posted by every elevator in the building reminding you to take the stairs lest you be plagued by heart disease and obesity the rest of your life.

I am totally down with all these things. There is, however, one aspect of this "health culture" that just bugs me. And that is this lovely little thing called "no chocolate in the vending machines." Notice i did not say "no junk food in the vending machines", because those puppies are chock full of enough starburst, skittles, and other non-chocolate candy to send you into a diabetic coma. I'm no nutritionist, but isn't that crap just as bad for you as a kitkat or snickers? Last time I checked, Lorna Doone cookies are like 90% butter, and they can be found in abundance around here.

This really shouldn't bother me, because I don't eat candy very often, but when I do I pretty much only like chocolate. There are certain times when I crave it like a crack addict, and, let me tell you my friends, those are not times in which I like to be told that the machine in front of me will not dispense my drug of choice.

I got kind of excited a little while ago when the company decided that they could include dark chocolate in the machines, seeing as it has those antioxidant health benefits and whatnot. I love dark chocolate and would have been more than happy with this arrangement if the substance in the vending machines was in fact dark chocolate. It is not. It is Hershey's dark chocolate, which is apparently some sort of bitter, waxy substance. That stuff is a crime against man and a crime against nature.

I guess I could be all productive about this situation and email HR or something, but that would seem a little crazy (because writing a blog post about chocolate withdrawls isn't crazy? Anyhoo...), and besides, I am more into the whole "whining about something but doing nothing to change it" frame of mind lately.

Sometimes I do fantasize about buying vast amounts of chocolate at costco and setting it all over the office, though. It would be my own delicious way of Sticking It to the Man.