This Weekend in Food

My dear sister visited these past few days! We gabbed, watched movies, insulted each other’s bodies and life choices, covalently bonded (but we shared clothes instead of electrons), and made cookies. Standard sorority stuff.

Unfortunately, something went so wrong with the cookies.

So very, very wrong.

And they came out looking like PANCOOKIES!

Get ready for that close up…

Shelf life was dubious for some (read: all) of them!

In other news, portion size in restaurants continues to break the physical laws of science and the quantifiable properties of deliciousness…
In some parts of the world, a whole extended family could live in one of these pieces of french toast.

Let Me Sleep on It

Yesterday was the cookie exchange at work! I amassed a real collection of divine goodies.

Then later, I had to go meet up with some friends for this photo shoot so I took all the cookies to share and get rid of them, and they ate most of them but one of my friends (whose name rhymes with Sharon) was like, “They are all good except I really don’t know about these weird cookies with the powdered sugar on them. Who makes those, honestly?”

And I was all like, “I made those.”

Long winter’s cat nap
photo courtesy of Flickr and dominiqs81

Also, are animals still hibernating these days? Or was that some weird ’80s trend? I am having trouble still believing they’re all curled up in the woods getting their deep sleep on. It sounds pretty made up. Hold on, let me check. Ok well, Wikipedia says it still exists. So, I don’t know. Go forth with that knowledge.

I Do It All for the Cookie

Unfortunately, I am writing yet another entry about food. I decided a midafternoon cookie might do everyone well on this particular day. I made a choice, I went ahead and purchased it, and then I ate it. Let me just say it was quite unsatisfying. I mean, there are mediocre but passable easy-bake treats, and then there is sub-par gluco-carbery that has been sitting in the display far past its sell-by date.

I’m just saying, can’t we donate old baked goods to some kind of home or assisted tasted facility? It’s just not right to expect them to function as if they were young skippies fresh out the oven.

Hello beautiful!
photo courtesy of Flickr and inajeep

Also, it’s scary to get emails with this subject:

…even if they’re well-intentioned. No cookie can compete with that educational but sensational noise.

I will pass it around because the guilt and fear will be arriving in, oh, about five seconds…

*If you would like more information on this subject, I refer you to the National Cancer Institute’s page on it, and will forego the absolutely scarifying, heartclenching video.

In the true spirit of too little, too late…


photo courtesy of Flickr and normanack

photo courtesy of Flickr and librarianjill

A Wordplay in Three Act(ually)s

PART A: Giggle Storm

(written at some point yesterday afternoon)

I think I’m delirious. I’m sitting all by myself and have been almost all day, and I can’t stop giggling. Not just a muffled giggling. But my very torso is quaking. Things have gotten delightful to a point that I just can’t ignore. Someone emailed me saying they wanted to make nice on a two-year feud I had no idea we were having. Can you imagine? Sitting on something for 600+ days, and the other person has no idea they’re involved? That’s some serious Lifetime Movies-type commitment! Then I got an email qualifying me to win FREE LASIK SURGERY. Somehow the idea of giving away complimentary surgery prizes doesn’t feel right no matter how many times you say it to yourself, the last time nearly in tears. Trip to Barbados or nose job?! You choose! Even worse, what if it was a nose temp job?! Who even knows what that would look like?!

Note to self: Stop starting feuds of which you’re entirely unaware.

Additional Note: Don’t let these “feuds” build up for two years.

PART B: Supersize That Cookie

I had this conversation with Luci, also yesterday:

11:59 AM

Luci: have you ever seen a giant cookie

12:00 PM

me: several times

Luci: i see. well, it was my first time.

12:01 PM

me: that’s beautiful! how do you feel about it

12:06 PM

Luci: i think i saw one in my dreams once when i was 8. it was like a throwback.

Luci has the most wonderful way of putting things.

I’m apparently not the only one who puts giant cookies on pedestals.
photo courtesy of Flickr and gesika22

PART C: Deconstructing Bugaboo

The poor word can’t catch a break.

1. urban dictionary’s most popular definition is:

bugaboo (n.) – Gurl or Guy Who Dont Leave You Alone.

Callin You Up Every Two Minutes On Your Celly, and Just Dont Trust You Doin Nothin, You Say Your Out Wit Your Boiz And She Thinks Your [sic] Out Creepin With Some Other Trick.

2. The regular says:

bug·a·boo –noun, plural -boos. something that causes fear or worry; bugbear; bogy.

[Origin: 1730–40; earlier buggybow. See bogy, boo]

3. Perhaps the most literal definition of the term I can think of as yet is the small insect that keeps biting me and zipping around my office, incognito-mosquito style!

Incognito Mosquito also happens to be the name of the first childhood story read to me (during library time) involving rampant wordplay. Very befittingly, I didn’t understand any of it until the much riper age of adolescence. Punbelievable.

4. Bugaboo is a song by Destiny’s Child, the original fivesome.

Here are some of the lyrics:

You Make Me Wanna Throw My Pager Out The Window
Tell Mci To Cut The Phone Calls
Break My Lease So I Can Move
’cause You A Bug A Boo A Bug A Boo
I Wanna Put Your Number On The Call Block
Have Aol Make My E Mails Stop
’cause You A Bug A Boo
You Buggin What You Buggin Who You Buggin Me
And Don’t You See It Ain’t Cool

[via: AbsoluteLyrics]

I enjoy the shout-outs to pagers, MCI, and AOL as an email provider.

5. Finally, Bugaboo is a low-budget movie filmed in the Silicon Valley in 1999. It enjoyed little fame and even less success.

In fact, its one comment on IMDB is:

Officially the worst movie I have seen, 9 May 2005
Author: vjbytes from United States (1 out of 10 stars)

This was being shown on AZN (previously international channel). For the record, before I say anything about this movie, I must say that I love independent movies and usually like low budget movies. But this was an exercise of tolerance. I have seen bad movies, bad in certain aspects. However, this movie hits on lows on every front. The writing is pathetic, acting uggHH.. , every character is miscast. The casting seems to have been done at the local Indian grocery store. Movies in this genre have the added advantage in background scores of being able to try fusion music, however, this one sounded like they combined cell phone rings together. This movie could have been nice, given the premise.. (like Office space, and other similar comedies )The rest of my Sunday can only be better.”

The movie, as I have seen it myself, was aptly titled.

6. Oh wait! Hold the cellphones and ringtones! Bugaboo is also a famous baby stroller company (a one-piece foldable stroller “for those who live life on the fly”). I think that just about cancels out everything else.

Snugaboo as a bugaboo in a rugaboo
photo courtesy of Flickr and jencu

Don’t Eat a Rapper’s Cookies Unless You Ain’t Scurred of a Public Browbeatin’

hip hop happenings through the eyes of the elusive but serenely enthused concert attendee

on sunday night, i went to a brother ali/ghostface/rakim concert with the ineffable kerry.

as someone who attends concerts with sincere rarity, the ones i do go to i try and absorb with studied concentration and eagerness.

and hip hop concerts are on another level especially. they embody a raw energy that seizes the venue into a collective raised fist. there is a freshly bruised simmering tension that envelops one’s consciousness when listening to live hip hop, and it’s hard to relate it to any other situation.

oh, and just like any other good concert, there are people moved to ridiculousness through the power of art. and that’s really all one can ask for at the end of the week.

FYI, we were standing one floor one up looking down on the stage so think aerial view of action. this is probably mostly irrelevant information.

x-zibit A: pimp my dodge

the concert had a live band accompaniment by the rhymthm roots all-stars (LA-based) with a lot of percussion. yes, that means not only drums but cowbell (omg), triangle, some steel fancypants contraptions as well as some horn business. beats were dropping from the sky practically. the concert was part of the Hip Hop Live! tour sponsored by dodge/ so that was kind of funny when the quasi-underground rappers were like ‘hey, goooo corporate america! and no i didn’t get paid to say that. or did i?’

x-zibit B: counterculture shock

hipster kid at concert who was wearing a honeybee sweater (yellow and black horizontal stripes), skinny jeans, a sinful haircut with matching facial hair and who seemingly showed up as extra credit for a college course. i don’t mean to only judge him on appearance but rather also on behavior. though it was unclear whether he had familiarity with the artists performing (i barely did), his raised right hand during certain songs was the best part. its slightly curled fingers were halfway between confidently beat-punctuating and sheepishly waving at a neighbor who just caught him nude tanning in his backyard.

x-zibit C: leader of the snack pack

i like when musicians tell stories/anecdotes in between their songs. and sure enough, ghostface told a story about sleeping on his tour bus and waking up one day and wanting some of his oreo cookies. well it turns out some groupie girls ate all of his cookies. so he went on for awhile about how “mother@#$^ in’ b!t*()es ate my cookies!” and then naturally into a song about it. another surefire example of art imitating life imitating sure, ok.

theodore unit, his posse, didn’t seem thrilled about the incident either. i’ll let you decide for yourselves their collective grievance with the wayward women in question.

ghostface was also wearing a piece of bling that looked like a gold chain with a healthy-sized 6-month-old human baby hanging from it.

x-zibit D: supafan’s kryptonite is proximity to idols

i think kerry and i can easily agree that the best part of the night was the supafan who was watching the show in our vicinity. he basically had a spiritual reawakening during the show. he was jumping all over the place doing the dance from kid ‘n play for many of the songs (the funky charleston). but then he would dance his way over to the balcony to glimpse a mere peep of his heroes, and then shake his head. he had one friend who he would sometimes go to for pep talks during the concert or to charge back up for more dancing.

at one point, rakim announced “let’s take it to level 10!” and supafan started to proclaim “i can’t take no more!” like a new convert to a fervent religion. sometimes he would say this to himself. sometimes to the nearest person. always with conviction. he said it to kerry at least 4-5 times in succession. i’m sure supafan’s friend also got to hear more than a few “i can’t take no more!”s as well. a few times supafan indicated as if he were going to throw himself off of the balcony. i am guessing these gestures were an attempted demonstration of adoration, but i considered these instances the lower points of the night. i was always more than slightly relieved when he went back to a fast, snappy rendition of the running man.

i take awful concert photos.