the uglier the food...

the better i seem to be at making it. ask anyone who's had the dubious privilege of being hosted by me what they've eaten at my house, and the list would probably include: curry rice. pulled pork sandwiches. pulled pork tacos (thank the slow cooker). burgers. if it's brown and ugly, then i've probably made it for you.

this recent stretch of debilitating precipitation in dc forced me to bake one more batch of spritz cookies this year than usual (i typically make one batch at christmas time. just frequently enough to never remember how my cookie press actually works, causing so much frustration that i vow never to use the darn thing ever again and if the contraption actually manages to survive another year without being hurled out the window, then we've deemed it a successful endeavor.). and as i survey the desserts of my labor this afternoon, i am astonished at how hideous they are. the cookies are malformed, wrinkled, even the sprinkles look ashamed to be dressing up such awful confections.

i can choose to either glory in my weakness or wallow in shame (sounds like lyrics for a really bad contemporary christian song -- sorry). i can't quite decide which option to favor. shame seems like the far worthier choice when i consider the culinary genius that has surrounded me my whole life. my mom has always cooked with incredible, painstakingly-oriented detail. every dessert she makes, a prize. every dumpling formed by her patient hands, a work of art. my college roommate cranks out the most lovely of exotic desserts, channeling both her frustration with and patience for her biology lab habits into her baking. my bff can make jam thumbprints without a single wrinkle -- each delightful masterpiece looks like a candidate to grace the photos in barefoot contessa's next cookbook. i could go on (ssk, you of course fall in these ranks as well but i've run out of writing steam to describe the array of baked goodies that you can churn out with professional-level flair).

and who can make such ugly creations with a COOKIE PRESS? is it not the point of such a gadget to churn out uniform neat cookies?

thankfully, my kids will eat them bc they will be blinded by the sprinkles. they will eat liver and onions if i disguised them with sprinkles. and hubby wouldn't even notice if i had coated the cookies with black and grey sugar crystals (he'd probably think, hey, raiders cookies!). he will just see the cookie for what it is: a cookie.

and so i press on (no pun intended): the same reason that if i've had you over, i've given you an ugly dish, if i aim for cookies that giada would be proud of, i'd never bake in the first place. and for the same reason that my desire to have friends over or to eat something sweet and buttery when the weather is frigid...that'll overwhelm my desire to have something presentable. aim low (or in consulting speak: set achievable goals), keep practicing, and hope that one day, beauty will surprise me.

winter blues

my restoration hardware foot duvets are the best investment i made this season.

as far as i'm concerned, cold weather serves very little good, even less so without snow. if it's going to be cold, there needs to be snow.

i used to be most comfortable in fall/winter clothes. i loved cozy sweaters, was known for having a rainbow array of turtlenecks (and fully acknowledge that this is not something over which to be proud), and felt even more secure in these items bc my physical flaws were literally covered up. now, i hate these clothes. i only dress to be warm. and, as expected, this does not make for a pretty sight. but considering that if i'm outside, the only thing people see is my coat, i've resigned myself to looking like nanook of the north until the ground thaws.

bday balloons...

so today i went to a ROCKIN' 2-yr-old's bday party. the hostess is truly one with the mostest...she possesses the type of consideration for others, where, for example, if i told her my child could only eat cupcakes made of flour imported from a special sect of land in zimbabwe, she would do all in her power to obtain it. the food was fabulous, with just the right combo of healthy organic snacks within one's reach to justify the consumption of pasta in heavy cream sauce 2-arms-length away. the kids had a wonderful array of activities and company at their disposal, and i myself had the rare opportunity to catch up with old friends and meet some new folks as well.

so, really, all i did at this party was half-watch my kids to make sure they were not beating up any other kids or that their voices weren't the loudest in the room, all while laughing and having fun w/other grownups and consuming high-calorie comfort food in a cozy room that i didn't have to clean up hours later...

so why am i so exhausted???

balloon boutique: day 1

so this is an experiment. i don't know if my mind is so cluttered lately that i've suddenly become incapable of holding down any real piece of information, but i've found recently that thoughts of varying levels of import keep floating away.

so this is my attempt at holding down some of those thoughts. if you don't want to read fluff -- unapologetically shameless fluff, then don't follow this blog. you've been warned.

this is also going to be a lazy woman's blog: no pix, no fancy borders or cool graphics, just text. and i hope the pureness and sincerity of the text is sufficient to offer up some humor, empathy, and maybe even a little bit of hope to your day. i find that the most enjoyable blogs are also the most relatable -- where i'm left to think: "i've always thought that truth but have been too scared (or tasteful or gracious) to utter it!" or "i'm not the only one who's insane!" or possibly worse still, "there's someone else out there even crazier than me!" i don't necessarily want to inspire such thoughts, but i'd be lying if i said i wasn't hoping to validate someone else's good humor or personal insanity at some point in the writing process. (there's an entry on toilet selection forthcoming in a few days, watch out!)