24 October 2009

Ohio Made Pretty

This smart and creative fellow made an interactive map that maps the 88 piano keys onto Ohio's 88 counties. I had much fun just mousing over the counties at random to produce an unmelodious melody, but charting a route also seems to be an excellent way to procrastinate.

22 October 2009

That's a Cute Top

I used to "hate" yogurt, but as with many food items, I've come around to it in my more "mature" years. By "hate" I mean, never tried except maybe once and always assumed it was really gross and that one time confirmed it, and by "mature" I mean that my taste buds and my mood have evolved to a much more open minded (or open mouthed) place. I love a good pile of unhealthy but delicious crap, but when I'm at home I tend to eat healthy, read: boring and not necessarily known for being of wondrous flavor.

So I decided to give this Fage Greek yogurt a whirl. Looks healthy, and who needs all those added fruit purees to fancy up the flavor when it just exists for the benefit of your gastrointestinal health?

Fage is real thick. REAL thick. Not your run of the mill Yoplait custard style this-yogurt-is-for-pussies yogurt. Not for the faint of heart, or mouth. This is man yogurt. Like that Hungry Man frozen meal (I was wondering if they still sell those and apparently, they do), except it's yogurt. You know how at Dairy Queen when you get a Blizzard, they stick the spoon in and turn it upside down before handing it to you? I bet you could do that with Fage. Eating Fage (pronounced "Fa-yeh!" as they helpfully indicate on the container) is like eating a mighty thick sour cream. It's like that time I made pumpkin pancakes with cinnamon yogurt topping, and the cinnamon yogurt recipe called for "strained" yogurt, that is, real thick-like yogurt. I had to strain it myself. It tasted like sour cream.

Now, I'm a big fan of sour cream. I like to lick the spoon when I prepare something that involves sour cream. Heck, sometimes I will just have a whole spoonful of sour cream, because I am such a fan. What can I say, dad indulged me as a child when he spooned sour cream into my borscht (cold in the summer, hot in the winter) or onto my Russian style French toast (why/how Russion style? May simply have been the substitution of sour cream for syrup), and that was just about every weekend.

Anywho, Fage. Try to eat a serving of that, boy. Whoa! Gag me with a spoon! Literally. Well maybe not literally, I mean I'm using a spoon to eat it, and maybe gagging a little but not perpetrating the act of gagging myself. It's just sort of agonizing to eat a whole cup in one sitting. A WHOLE CUP of THICK SOUR CREAM. I think I'll head back to that Stonyfield Farm YoBaby meal yogurt-for-pussies. I mean babies.

21 October 2009

13 October 2009

Jay-Z I Love You But You're KILLIN' Me

The first time I heard this song I thought it was pretty catchy, as Jay-Z often is. The next few times I heard it, in quick order, I thought dang this song is blowin' up hardcore styles. The next 10,000 times I heard it blasting from every car that drove by, in every coffee shop I went into, from windows of people's apartments, in the space of like 8 days, I thought that I'd like to have some earplugs now, please. When I heard it tonight, as a ring-tone, I prayed that was the signal for the end. Either of it's life, or that of my eardrums.

04 October 2009

had good time. not good match =(

Pay special attention to the kiss that begins at the 3 minute mark.

03 October 2009

A Comedy of Errors

It all began with the bacon on the sandwich. Actually, maybe it started with waking up on my friend's couch wearing his guitar-print PJ pants, changing back into the prior day's clothes, and hitting the semi-questionable bodega/deli next door. With two minutes to go before they stopped serving breakfast, I starvingly/gleefully ordered an egg and cheese sandwich. "Two eggs?" asked Deli Guy. "Two eggs." said I. I turned around to chat with my friend who'd also spent the night (she got Chinese takeout container print boxers to sleep in), so it was she who caught Deli Guy putting bacon on my sandwich. As he handed the heavy feeling sandwich to me (see, the sandwiches with meat always feel really heavy. That's usually what tips me off to check before taking a bite) my pal was like whoa wait a second here, that has BACON on it.

Me to Deli Guy: "Does this have bacon on it?"
Deli Guy to me (glare. glare.): "Yes."
Me: "I did not ask for bacon."
Deli Guy: (glare.)
Me: "You know what? I don't need a sandwich."

But you know what, really? Then I went and got an egg and cheese sandwich at the new Dunkin Donuts. I spoke very clearly so as to not get accidental sausage.

That's not even the half of it though. I had to shop for ingredients for three items I was planning on bringing to a party that evening, AND decorations for said party, AND pots and soil for some herb plants I picked up at the green market. You know that game where there's a bar at the bottom that you move from side to side to bounce a ball? The dot matrix video game version of table tennis, for one? That was kind of like me, a little. I was the ball, pinging here, then there, then back over here, oh then back over there, look now it's back over to the first place! This place doesn't have that thing, that place doesn't have this thing, sorry lady cash only, credit card machine down, that banged up planter is the last one, oops forgot I needed oil for the cake, crap I still have to go to the liquor store.

After all the shopping was done, all the dishes prepared, I got all cleaned and prettied up in my Dirty Dancing dress, loaded my arms with bags full o' goodies, and set out on the short walking journey to the party, cup of sangria somehow magically in hand. And then I realized I had NO hands to hold down my dress in the wild wind. Probably not a few people got a peek at some pink polka dot panties.