Wednesday, December 30, 2009

I don't wanna be bear food {Part two: The Mental Evaluation}

You wanna know when you SHOULDN'T buy a particular house?

When you think "Hey, I would never in my right mind be able to live here...but it would be great material for the blog!"

*slaps self*

Self, are you frackin' retarded?

Srsly, why? Why would I ever think that was okay?

"Oh let's buy this house and document all the crazy eff'd up shenanigans that are sure to ensue."

Am I drunk? On drugs? Suicidal?

No, maybe its the cabin fever setting in.

Which leads to my next question...
if I've already got cabin fever, why would I want to move to a cabin!?

Sure, the idea of living out in "the country" with our little herb garden and wood heated hot tub, sounds all picturesque and adorable...  in the summer. But I am pretty sure that house is under 10 feet of freakin' snow right now. Being trapped in the wilderness sounds like a blasty blast to me.*rolls eyes*

Dan and I were discussing it, and looking at the online listing and suddenly it hit me like a flying race car tire to the face...

There is no freakin' POTTY!

Noooooo indoor pooper.

That just sealed the "no frackin way" deal!

Not no way, not no how!
(Yea, I was just watching the Wizard of Oz. Don't hate.)

[yea it looks all cozy, but what you don't realize is
those bushes are so people don't see you pee'ing outside.]

I mean, maybe if there were trees I would consider it.


Or maybe not.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Christmas + Cookies = Rabid Cookie Hoarder

I baked cookies for Christmas. I didnt give them to any one,
cause I'm kind of a selfish biotch.
But the intent was there. That counts right?

I had never made them before, and it just happened to be the recipe on the back of the Ghirardelli White Chocolate Chip bag.
Yeah, Ghirardelli... we mean business in this house.

So if you would like to try out these
double chocolatey cookies o' goodness...

Here's the recipe...make 'em yourself.

Happy Holidayz.

Double Chocolate Chip Cookie Recipe
  • 4 1/2 cups all purpose flour
  • 1/2 cup Dutch Cocoa (I used Hersheys, ain't no big thing)
  • 2 teaspoons baking soda
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 2 cups butter (one pound), softened
  • 1 cup sugar
  • 1 1/3 cup brown sugar
  • 4 large eggs
  • 2 teaspoons vanilla
  • 2 1/2 cups white or dark chocolate chips or chunks (Ghirardelli)

  1. This size batch is large (48-50 regular size cookies) and will fit in a 5-6 quart Kitchen Aid type mixer. If you have a smaller mixer, divide this recipe in half.
  2. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Check your oven temperature to make sure it is accurate.
  3. Line baking sheets with parchment paper or spray with vegetable shortening.
  4. In a large bowl, combine flour, cocoa, baking soda and salt together and set aside.
  5. In a large mixing bowl with a beater attachment, beat butter until creamy.
  6. Add sugar and brown sugar and beat together until light and fluffy. Scrape down sides of bowl.
  7. Add eggs, one at a time and beat again. Add vanilla. Scrape again.
  8. Blend dry ingredients into butter mixture 2 cups at a time, mixing after each addition.
  9. Add white chocolate chips and nuts if desired. Mix only until blended.
  10. Using a cookie scoop or Tablespoon, measure out cookies and place on prepared baking sheets leaving some space between them.
  11. Bake at 350 degrees for 10-12 minutes or until slightly firm. Do not over bake.
  12. Place cookies on rack to cool completely before storing in an airtight container.
  13. Yields 48 cookies, more or less depending on the size.

 Ps...They were pretty much delicious.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

I don't wanna be bear food {Part I}


This is what I am thinking.

Apparently being eternal renters, who never have to fix broken appliances, or frozen pipes, or pay for cable, or paint the walls, is a bad thing. Who knew?

Truly, I am fighting a losing battle here.

I realize my argument against buying a house is fueled by my paralyzing fear of living in Nome Alaska for forever. Because, as you all know: Once you buy a house somewhere, you can never leave! I mean when I hear the words "25 year mortgage" my throat closes up, and my heart constricts in my chest and I get an all out panic attack.

.....someone hand me a paper bag while I put my head between my knees. Thanks.

I know that is a bit irrational seeing as people sell houses all the time, but buying a house is a big freaking deal. There's paper work and inspections, credit checks and anal probes. I mean, this is serious business. Serious, grown up -dare I say- adult business. Who in their right mind would categorize me as a grown up? I still haven't decided what I wanna be when I grow up! I've still got high hopes for either a ballerina or a country singer.

I digress.

So here we are, discussing buying a house.

In Nome.

And we are looking at the listings...

Do you know how much houses cost?!? Holy crap, why don't I just hand over my first born child, and sacrifice a baby goat or... twelve. Sheesh!

Anyways, so Dan has made it clear that we are probably not buying any of these houses we've checked out, cause lets face it, we don't even know if our credit is grown up enough to buy a stinking overpriced ice shanty. So we are just looking. And this could be a good thing, I think.

This is our time to figure out what we can and cannot live without. I say "without" because I can live with a lot, but I can't live without much.

My poor husband wishes I was an outdoorsy, hiking, camping, loves to pee outside, rifle toting woman. When in reality, I am an E! News watching, online shopping, only sleeps and pee's indoors, city girl.

He knows this. This isn't new.

I also don't consider myself high maintenance. Give me my iPhone, straighting iron, a toilet, and a pantry full of cheetos, and I am pretty much content.

Seriously, It doesn't take much to keep me happy.

But when we start talking about houses with no shower, or cell phone service, surrounded by bears and moose...THAT right there is when we've crossed the line of acceptable living.

Dan says, "That's why we have guns."
Excuse me, I don't shoot animals, Dan.
I only shoot people. Duh.

I mean, really? What is this The Little House On The Prairie?
What's next? Make the kids a ball out of a pigs bladder?
No freakin' thank you!

Dear Loving Husband,
I know that you think I am brave because
I moved all the way to Nome Alaska, but I am not,
that was just straight up foolishness...foolishness!
Love, Me.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Things I am excited about... and other random ramblings about myself.

My new eye glasses...
They are so win!
Merry Christmas, eyes!

 I seem to have neglected my eyes for the last oh... 5 years.
And this video pretty much sums it up....

A Hair Cut
Yes, a haircut. I get joy out of the little things, what can I say.
I mean who doesn't get excited about a haircut?
Okay, there's those ladies with hair past their butts that haven't cut it since the 70's, and somehow end up on What Not To Wear, because not only do they have 30 years worth of hair growth they also still wear clothes from the 70's. And that shizz only works if you're a cast member of That 70's Show. Or maybe they haven't cut it since the 80's and still get it permed and wear stonewashed mom-jeans that go up to their boobs and sweatshirts with disney character appliques on the front and built in turtle necks. Cause you can never have too many Mickey Mouse Christmas turtleneck sweatshirts. I mean, you should never own a Mickey Mouse Christmas turtleneck sweater, it makes Stacey and Clinton cry, hard. Yes, even harder than than the lady who's hair gets chopped into a bob by Nick Arrojo, who, lets be honest, needs a freakin hair intervention.
No wonder these women cry when he tells them he is cutting their hair, its like being told your makeup artists for your wedding day is a clown....a zombie clown.  ((shudder))
...this has gone on way too long.

The point is, I need to get my hair cut. Its ridiculously long and out of control. Srsly, it just needs some help.
I recently -as in two months ago- dyed my hair back to brunette because someone....Dan, said he like it better dark. What was I supposed to do? Ignore him? I was in shock that he even gave me an opinion that didn't sound like "whatever you want." or "its your hair." which sounds a heck of a lot like, "I don't care." So yes, I took back the two boxes of bleach blonde, and came home with dark brown. But really, I wish my hair looked like this...

yea that would freaking rock!
...what? you mean to tell me thats not a professional hair style?
Why can't I be like the chick on NCIS?? *stomps foot*

The gym.
okay thats a lie. I am not excited about the gym. In fact, I loathe the gym. However, I love the results you get from the gym, if you are disciplined enough to go every day...which I am not. I even begged Dan for a membership, saying I would go all the time...and I have gone twice. That was in July. I also asked him to buy me the Yoga Booty Ballet dvds...I've used them 4 times. That was last December. Its not that I don't like those workouts, I just can't work out when people are home, and thats like all the time. I have a workout ball too. Its been deflated for the last 8 months. Why am I telling you all this? Well, I just want you all to know that when I become the size of a house, I didn't want this and that the intent to be skinny was there...somewhere.

Random thought of the day:
-Who needs an iPhone case when you have a bra?
It looks like my boob is a freakin iPod. "oh hold on, let me turn down my iBoob."