Monthly Archives: February 2008

an end to all the violence

Yeah, so, um, this week’s theme fell together by accident, and I kinda don’t have any other violent things to talk about. I still really, really like that gun, and I still can’t find my switchblade, and… that’s about it. Jimmy forgets that I CAN’T TALK ABOUT ninja camp or they take away my license to ninj. So except for my occasional emotionally violent outbursts, I’m pretty much tapped out. I punched my friend Chris once, when I just couldn’t take any more of his bigoted, homophobic, chauvinist crap. There was a time during my angsty teen years when frustration would get the better of me, and I did manage to take a few chunks out of my plaster walls (plaster, not sheetrock) and I once broke a window in a brief rage… but no WEAPONS. Watch out, though… I have a set of Henckels kitchen knives, and I know how to use them!

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Violence Week continues

A long, long time ago
I can still remember…

Waaaaay back in high school, Mandy went to Italy and was kind enough to bring me home a souvenir… a switchblade knife of my very own. It looked just like one of those “Oh my it’s a switchblade oh ha ha it’s really just a comb” gags, except that it really was a switchblade. It wasn’t very big, it wasn’t particularly sharp even, but it was mine and I loved it.

Recently, a pal was regaling me with a tale of humorous switchblade antics, and I thought to myself, “Hey! I have a switchblade! Um, where is it?” I’ve looked in my jewelry box, and in the other, littler jewelry box, in the drawer where I keep the patches that Mandy also brought back from Italy, in the Blackened VooDoo box that I’ve been toting around for years and I don’t even REMEMBER what’s in it… and I can’t find that thing anywhere.

Now, a switchblade isn’t the kind of thing you throw away. Nor is it the type of item that you’d sell at a garage sale. It is the kind of thing I’d give to a friend who would appreciate it more than I do, but… I don’t think I have any friends who fall into that category. So I do have hope that it will turn up. But…

I did a little research online tonight. Turns out that in the state of Colorado, it is illegal to carry OR POSSESS a switchblade. And for my posse in California, it’s legal to possess a switchblade, but you can only legally carry it if the blade is UNDER TWO INCHES (misdemeanor crime otherwise). However… in California… if your knife contains a “detent or similar mechanism that provides some resistance to opening the knife,” then your knife is no longer considered a switchblade and there is no length limit unless you’re on school property. However (again), that is STATE law. Individual cities may have their own ordinances.

Yeah, so, there’s your public service announcement for the day. It’s a jungle out there.

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the kid in me

I have all of the natural grace of a football falling down a flight of stairs, but…

I still want pointe shoes and one of those sticky-outy pancake tutus.

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And a minigun that shoots 50 rounds/second. Aw, yeah.

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No, my brother, you have to go buy your own.

$5 gift card to the first person who knows what that title is a reference to. And gives me their address.

My adopted twin brother has really outdone himself. He and his wife sent me a box of goodies, the thoughtfulness of which actually made me mist up. I realize that a sappy Folgers ad can also make me mist up, but that doesn’t make the feeling any less genuine. Thanks, kids!

Key Lime Pie number 3,742 (okay, #6) was created tonight, and I altered a few things all at once. For one thing, I adjusted the ingredients. Duh, I’ve been doing that all along. But this time, and here is the part Jennifer has been waiting for, I whipped the filling. Oooh, yeah. Sticks and stone may break my bones, but whisks kind of excite me. And you know, that whipping made for a beautiful filling. Thick, and with visibly more volume than my previous pies. So I figured, why not? Why not try to bake it for a mere 6–8 minutes as that one crazy recipe suggested? 8 minutes, or until a metal skewer inserted in the center pulls out clean and hot?

8 minutes: wet and cool
16 minutes: wet and cool
24 minutes: wet and less cool… um, it’s rising
32 minutes: risen to the point of cracking, I pull out the pie without bothering to skewer it.

I set it aside to cool while I make the meringue. And then have great trouble spreading meringue onto the bloated, soufflé-like pie filling which still hasn’t fallen. Turn up the heat, brown the meringue, and pop the pie in the fridge to chill. I’ll have myself a slice for breakfast, before transferring custody over to Scott.

Unrelated note: I got to see the kids over at MythBusters use a Minigun (Dillon, if you’re a gun buff but not following the link) on two different episodes tonight, and even though guns make me a little uncomfortable… this thing is HOT. No pun intended. I really, really wanna handle one of these things. Very safely, and far away from any living things. But even aimed at a dead tree, this thing is amazing. Loaded with incendiary ammo and aimed at a propane tank, even more so. Yum.

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Slacker!

That’s right, I didn’t bake a pie this weekend. Oh, the horror. Oh, the shame. I did go to Two Dogs Diner with Timber, and we each tried a slice of pie. Not bad, not bad. They get bonus points for listing it on the menu as “Slice o’ Pie.” When our waitress handed us menus, she mentioned that they were out of ice cream. What?! How do you run out of ice cream? So… no shakes, no malts, no root beer floats, no pie a la mode? Well, okay. It happens. I asked what kind of pie they had, and she went into the kitchen to check. A moment later, she came back and told us cranberry-apple. Only the one kind? Um, okay. It wouldn’t have been my first choice, but it sure beats rhubarb. Two slices please, with whipped cream. A few minutes later, our waitress appeared to let us know that they only had ONE slice of cranberry apple, and one of regular apple. Is that okay? Yes, that will do just fine. While we were eating our (cold) pie, someone walked out of the kitchen carrying most of an apple pie (presumably the pie that Timber was eating a slice of) and half of a blackberry pie. Um, hello? Seriously? I’m pretty sure that Timber would have devoured the blackberry pie if it had been offered. Anyway, the pie was adequate and we spent some time taking photos in the neighborhood afterwards. I hit up the local supermarket for my pie ingredients on the way home, but by the time I got here I had run out of pie mood. I’ll probably get to it tomorrow. I think I’m pretty close to finalizing the recipe, kids!

As a special treat, here’s a photo of the naturally-occurring pie filling mixture from last week:
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Smile! Pie happens!

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momentary lapse of blogging

Please excuse my absence yesterday. In addition to having plans that kept me out later than I’d anticipated, I also had nothing to write about.

Not much has changed. :)

Timber has jumped on the pie bandwagon, and thinks he may have found an appropriate vendor of elusive Diner Pie. We shall be exploring the potential selection of pie on Sunday and I’ll report back. Straight off the bat, this place is too far away. No matter what, I don’t see Timber that often, and it should be a nice time. I will be in heaven if I can find a place serving gravy fries AND pie. Just thinking about it, I can feel the pounds that I’ve been trying to lose creeping back up.

Today I received in the mail a vintage, black-velvet “wiggle” dress that I just won on eBay. It is a perfect fit. Terrific seller, too. Now I have TWO potential outfits for Megan and Joe’s second annual Tainted Love party. And far too many outfits for VLV. What’s a girl to do? :D

Erin was in a little fender-bender, Mandy’s niece had her appendix out and her cat has been diagnosed with a chronic thyroid condition, and Dexter, my dad’s dog, broke one of his teeth and the only dog dentist in a 3-state area is on vacation. It’s been a rough week for some of my favorite people, and my thoughts are with you. I’m very glad that all situations are stable.

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3.142857

Almost there! The meringue, whipped once again by eye, is back to the proper fluffiness. Turning up the heat gave me lovely browned peaks. I added a bit more lime juice to the filling, which is starting to give me the tart shock I’m looking for, but I’m losing the consistency again. This, however, might be due to my trying to bake the pie for a ridiculous 8 minutes, as instructed in an “authentic” recipe that falsely promised me cheek-sucking tartness. Next pie: even more lime juice, more ferocious beating of the filling, and back to a longer bake time.

I am stunned that Scott isn’t sick of Key lime pie yet.

In other news, after four years of walking into my kitchen and thinking, “Hmmm, I should really switch out the handles on all of these cabinets,” I have actually done exactly that. In an ideal world, I would have switched out the cabinets themselves, but listen, it took me FOUR YEARS to agree to spend the $60 it cost me to buy 30 new (and yes, very cheap) handles. I am not prone to spending money on stuff. Even my shoes are inexpensive. Anyway, whereas the old handles were sturdy, antiqued brass in a sort of geese-in-bonnets “country” style (coughBARFcough), the new handles are a sleek, classically minimal shape done in brushed nickel. Muuuuuch better. Hello, Kitchen! Wow, you look great… did you do something different? Is that a new haircut?

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