Tooth in Hand

The Perfect Saturday

A run in the park followed by five hours at the pool with friends followed by dinner out followed by a movie followed by high-fiving a unicorn. Lather, rinse, repeat: this has been my last THREE Saturdays.

BAM!

The day is MINE, Trebek!

Pop Quiz

This weekend will involve:

a. Hanging with my mom
b. Hanging with my sister
c. Hanging with my brother
d. Hanging with my dad
e. Hanging with my by myself ("Don't wanna be all by myseeeelf! Anymooooore!" Cue Bridget Jones-esque air drumming and foot kicking.)
f. BOTH A AND B AND ALSO C BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE YES ALSO D

If you guessed f, then ding ding ding! You have aced a made up quiz on a blog. Congratulations, award yourself the appropriate number of points you feel you deserve. OH ALL RIGHT- AND A GOLD STAR TOO.

One more question, though:

IT GETS MUCH BETTER THAN THIS
a. True
b. FALSE

It does not, in fact, get much better than this.

My Great-Grandfather Was Ridiculously Awesome Story of the Day

One time Pappaw went to the doctor because his hand was infected. Do you want to know why? BECAUSE HE HAD PUNCHED A DUDE IN THE FACE AND THE OTHER GUY'S TOOTH WAS EMBEDDED IN PAPPAW'S HAND.

The End.

Summer Movie Round-Up (So far)
X-Men: First Class: C+
Super 8: A-

Lamesauce Letters

I burnt both of my hands pulling something out of the oven AGAIN this week. I had to capitalize that entire word because this is about the tenth time I've burn the tops of my hands on the roof of an oven. One would think I might get a clue and change my behavior, but I haven't. (At this point my sister, parents, and husband might be rolling their eyes.) The next logical response would then be to write complaint letters. (OBVIOUSLY.)

Dear recipes that call for cooking a pan on the stove and then placing said pan in the oven,

perhaps some people are talented enough to remember not to touch the metal handle of something that has been in a 400 degree oven... but I'm not one of them. The last time I needed to cook stuffed pork chops in this manner I told my husband that his one job was making sure I didn't burn myself. I grabbed that hot metal handle and scalded myself... twice. Stupid pork chops. LAME.

Dear Coffeemate Creamer,

I really like your product. I stay true to you and don't opt for other brands. You usually have the best coupons. But do you know what you don't have? A spill proof way of pouring. Creamer seeps out the top and down the sides no matter how careful I am! If I'm supposed to shake the bottle before using there will be creamer stuck up in the lid when I open and pour. LAME. Let's work on this.

Dear Campbell's Soup at Hand,

I faithfully drank (ew?) your product for almost a decade. Chicken and stars, wedding soup, taco blend... they all helped me through college, rehearsals, and long days at the office. Out of the hundreds of containers I opened I was never, ever, never, ever able to open and remove the metal lid without spraying at least some soup on me, the microwave, or the floor. LAME. There has to be a better way to package that product. If Apple can produce a new iPhone ever year, I think you can step up your game.

That's it... for now.

-Ginger

p.s. Don't worry. I'm still going to use all three of you. I'm just not going to do it smiling.

Rhinestone Zumba

My Zumba instructor this evening? WAS MINDY RIGGINS. Except for the fact that Mindy doesn’t live here, she lives in Dillon.

And also she is fictional.

But that’s beside the point! Because don’t you see the ideal post-Landing Strip career for Mindy as a Zumba instructor? At a gym? I mean really. PLUS there was the fact that she moved with all sorts of flourishes and WINKS, not to mention the rhinestone-encrusted wrist cuff she danced in, and also the hot pink and black “Zumba” head band she sported over her dark blonde wavy hair.

I mean really.

So even though Javier wasn’t teaching tonight, I was sufficiently entertained, especially dancing to songs like “The Ballroom Blitz” and even a little “Diverse City,” not to mention the old Shakira and Beyonce standbys.

The only thing that could have sent the whole thing over the top would have been if the instructor had said Mindy's all-time Best Line Ever: "There's a fox in my henhouse and I don't like it." I don't know what the occasion would have been for her to say that in Zumba class, but I'm sure she's creative and could have come up with something. All she'd need to do is try.

(If you have no idea who Mindy Riggins is, all I can say is WHY HAVEN’T YOU WATCHED “FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS” YET? I mean really.)

Sidenote: The Facebook Page I run for work hit 10,000 fans today! Ten. Thou. Sand. Ten thousand. You know what that is in Roman Numerals? MMMMMMMMMM.

What a tasty number.

It's JUST a car.

Dear Hyundai Elantra,

I'm not usually like this with things. In fact, I wrote this post on my awesome XANGA (bet you haven't heard that term in a while!) page in August of 2006.

I murdered my plant last week. This guy held on for so long. I bought him last year about this time on a trip to the giant Ikea in Frisco. There were two of them then. The one in the white vase passed earlier this spring. I hadn't realized how much I enjoyed their green presence until I returned to find the last one browning on Friday. I was off soaking it up in Florida while he died in my hot apartment.

Good thing I am not nostalgic and do not name things like my plant, car, or house. There is nothing quite as ridiculous as someone leaning into the steering wheel and saying "Come on Talulah,or Tiger, or Jamie." It's steel on wheels. Let it go.

I have to be this way to make the passing of the plant easier. I cry at Hallmark commercials and movie previews, therefore I cannot "overly-feel" my own life. Maybe it's my German heritage (not a scapegoat for everything, I promise), or maybe I am the world's only romantic-realist. Can you be both? Guess so...

And yet, last night I couldn't help but ask for a photo with said steering wheel before we pulled away from the car dealership. I don't even think I felt this much emotion leaving my apartment on the day after graduation. It's just that this car has been with me through SO much.

This little box on wheels carried me from Texas to Arizona in November of 2006. It saw me drop my parents off at the airport and then crumple to tears as I pulled out into an unknown city. This silver chariot has carted me to work,girl's night, parties, dates, showers, rehearsals, concerts, sporting events, weddings and funerals. It knows what songs I sing at the top of my lungs and how I don't really know the words to those songs.

It's been through a two accidents, several video shoots, and two replaced windshields.

This car has seen my entire love story with my husband. I leaned against it as I waved good-bye each night and drove 50 miles across town. It's been privy to conversations with everyone important in my life on just about every topic. This automobile has seen me at my worst and best.

The replacement arrives after work today. This new one is to be my car for the next chunk of life. I think we're both in for a wild ride.

Although I never named it, I'm still going to miss it. I'm still going to miss her. That's all.

Just Another Day At The Office

I work at a camp.

Naturally, this is a busy time of year for us, seeing as how campers show up in LESS THAN ONE WEEK.

To help us run camp during the summer, about 1,200 summer staff are hired every year. And for two days, all of them (and all of us full-time staff) are packed into a giant auditorium for worship, training, and vision-casting for the summer. It's one of my most favorite times of the year.

The atmosphere in that room is extremely difficult to describe, but it's definitely energizing to say the least. I hope you can make it to my town one of these Mays to come experience it with me. It's amazing.

Here's a little taste of the staff getting revved up between sessions:


A big part of why we are all gathered in this auditorium is to go through our in-house training manual, lovingly known as The Way. As in, our "way" of doing things. (Hip hip, THE WAY!)

To kick off this training time, and to get the new folks excited about what was to come, something truly awesome needed to happen. Watch and see:


And if you think I would pass up the chance to participate in ANYTHING "Newsies"-inspired, well, you are sorely mistaken, friend. Look again, and you might notice a certain blonde in a freakishly bright yellow t-shirt paired with her camp-regulation khaki shorts.

It's a fine life!

...So how was YOUR day at work?

Life and Recipes

I just spent 10 minutes searching the interwebs for a quote that would summarize this casserole of a post I'm about to serve you. But alas, everything was too poetic and far too full of itself. I was looking for something about pulling everything out of your pantry and turning it into a recipe. (I did this once, while living in Oxford. My friends lived to tell the tale of chicken with nutmeg, grape jelly, and mustard.) Anyways. This month...

-We celebrated Mother's Day with D's family.

Per usual we cooked too much, ate too much... and then ate dessert. It was lovely.

-We took a turn at parenting. Ok. We babysat for a few hours.

Puzzles, juice, diapers, pizza, wrestling, the Backyardigans... there wasn't ton of sitting but there was plenty of fun. D was in his element.

-We made my mom's recipe for Turkey Burgers and Sweet Potato Fries last week. Both were so tasty that I've decided to share the recipes with you.

Turkey Spinach Burgers

1 lb. ground lean turkey

1 pkg. (10 oz) frozen chopped spinach, thawed and water squeezed out. (I subbed in fresh.)

2 T, barbecue sauce

1/2 tsp. salt

1/4 tsp. freshly ground black pepper

1/4 c. chopped onion

1. Heat grill to medium-high and coat rack w/ cooking spray. (We cooked on our panini maker.)

2. Combine turkey, spinach, barbecue sauce, salt, pepper and onion in large bowl. Shape into four patties.

3. Grill patties 10-12 minutes, turning once, or until meat thermometer inserted into the middle from the side registers 165 degrees. Serve on buns w/ tomato & lettuce. (We chose to serve with more BBQ sauce, mozzarella, and tomatoes.)

Roasted Sweet 'taters

16 oz. sweet potatoes - washed

1 tsp. Olive oil

1/2 tsp. salt - coarse kosher is best

1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg

1/8 tsp. ground cloves

1/8 tsp. pepper - coarse ground

-Preheat oven to 425.

-Cut sweet potatoes into about 3/4 inch cubes (large dice). Leave the skins on removing only the hard knob at each end. Alternatively you might cut them in wedges or slice them in 1/2 inch discs.

-Combine sweet potatoes and remaining ingredients in a bowl (or plastic bag). Toss gently to coat. Place potatoes on a baking sheet (do not overlap); bake at 425 for 25 minutes or until very tender.

-I'm obsessed with a new podcast: WNYC Radiolab. It's a fabulous mixture of science, math, physics, literature, and everything else. I feel really intelligent listening to it at the gym. Don't ask me about what I've learned. All the magic will be gone when I say things like, "So there's this switch in our brain that flicks on and scientists can see it in an EKG or um... in a brain scan, I guess and anyways..." Just listen to the experts (not me) and feed your brain.

-I watched Adele's music video for "Someone Like You" and didn't breathe the entire song. (Or maybe just once.)

-I'm going home in ONE MONTH! It's big doings: Dad = retiring. Grandparents = 60th Anniversary. Father's Day = Mother's Day. (We are celebrating Mom and Dad on the 19th. We have lots of surprises in store.)

-Next month I'm going to the Grand Canyon for the FIRST TIME EVER. I've been in Arizona for five and a half years. I KNOW!!

-I need to go and make my dinner. I don't think I'm going to use a recipe. You are welcome to join.

P.S. posting photos through blogger is exhausting. I had more but it's not worth it. Anyone with me?

The Longest Story About Cereal You Will Read Today, Guaranteed

When I was in England for a semester during my sophomore year in college, I was not the most adventurous grocery shopper. My roommates bought flavored yogurts and mysterious-looking pasties without trepidation, but I was not nearly as trusting of what I was confronted with at the grocery store. I found myself unable to see past the unappetizing appearance of watery cheeses or the bizarrely-named "cloudy lemonade."

Such is how I ended up living almost entirely on the BEST cereal ever, Kellogg's Crunchy Nut. I ate that cereal morning, noon, and night without abandon. I loved it, and was perfectly happy to sustain myself on honey-flavored flakes of cereal for the duration.

So you can imagine how distraught I was upon my return to the states to discover that my beloved Crunchy Nut was unheard of in my home country. I tried everything that even closely resembled that cereal, including Honey Bunches of Oats, which absolutely does NOT hold up, and is not even REMOTELY the same thing.

"Surely you can find something similar," fellow traveler and roommate Julie would say. "I wouldn't think it'd be THAT hard. It's just honey-flavored Corn Flakes!"

"False," I petulantly replied, then added wistfully, "A Crunchy Nut substitute does not exist for me in this land."

This is the part of the movie where the screen would darken, and then a line of white writing would appear, reading "7 Years Later."

From Wikipedia: "Crunchy Nut (previously known as Crunchy Nut Corn Flakes) is a breakfast cereal made by Kellogg's. They were first introduced to the UK and Ireland around 1980. The cereal is Kellogg's second most popular cereal in the UK after Special K. In 2011, Crunchy Nut was introduced to the US Market."

Oh yes, my friends. You read that right. CRUNCHY NUT CEREAL IS NOW AVAILABLE IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, LAND OF THE FREE AND HOME OF THE BRAVE AND NOW ALSO DELICIOUS.

Upon hearing that my favorite cereal could now supposedly be found at my local grocery store, I indeed stormed the aisles of my local food provider in search of the perfect breakfast food. And there, among the Fruity Pebbles and the Kashi Granola... it wasn't. No bright yellow box! No Kellogg's-labelled package proclaiming "NEW!"

Despair.

But then. (You didn't think I'd leave you without a happy ending, did you??) My not-so-local grocery store to the rescue! It's true: up the road a piece, in a grocery store I do not often frequent, sat boxes of exactly what I was looking for. I picked up a box of Crunchy Nut amidst memories of my Oxfordian semester and headed to the checkout counter.

Of course, the biggest question one would have at this point: Would it taste the same? Had I built it up in my memory to be better than it is in reality? Would the American import be less tasty than its British counterpoint?

Scene: A bowl, a spoon, skim milk, and my honey-covered friends. (The cereal, I mean. Not actual friends covered in honey, as hilarious as that would be.) The verdict? Even BETTER than I had remembered! I went through that box of cereal in less than a week, even taking the last bit of it to work to eat for lunch on Friday.

The lesson here is, obviously, that DREAMS REALLY CAN COME TRUE. No matter how big it is, even if your dream involves breakfast cereal, it can happen.

Dream big, kids. Dream big.