Chocolate Nutballs - The Recipe

Apparently, I made a few mouths drool with the talk of my chocolate nutballs and their picture. I've gotten requests for the treats themselves - only one of which I honored, because she happened to be in my kitchen and knows I'm easily overpowered - but I think Joe had the best idea: post the recipe.

For the last 5 or 6 years, I've been on Texas Monthly's weekly recipe list. Of the scores, if not hundreds of recipes I've gotten in that time, I think I've attempted only two or three. This recipe is one of them, reprinted here, complete with the text from the email, but the links are not hot:

You’ll find more recipes online at texasmonthly.com. You can also share recipes and food questions with other TEXAS MONTHLY readers at the Recipe Swap.

Chocolate-Grand Marnier Truffles

Recipe from Sierra Grill, Houston.

1 1/4 cups heavy cream
16 ounces Nestlé semisweet chocolate chips
1/2 cup unsalted butter
1/4 cup Grand Marnier or Bailey’s Irish Cream
Zest of 1/2 orange 1 1/2 cups pecans, ground or finely chopped

In a heavy, nonreactive pan bring cream to a boil. Immediately remove from heat and stir in chocolate and butter until smooth. Add liqueur and orange zest and chill overnight. Shape into 3/4-inch balls and roll in pecans. Makes 6 dozen.

****************

After my first attempt, I hesitate to call what I made truffles. Hence, labeling them chocolate nutballs (because I am nothing if not mature and referential). The consummate engineer, Honey had a good idea to help me create more attractive treats that I'd be proud to call truffles and not "nutballs." He suggested that instead of rolling them between my palms like I'd do modeling clay, that instead I seek some silicon mold of half-spheres - like a novelty ice-tray - and let the chocolate chill in that. Then when it's all chilled, marry the spheres together, maybe with a little water at the seam. Since I'll be out and about today, maybe I'll swing by Sur la Table and see what they've got in that vein.

With only half the chocolate mix, I believe I made about 55 balls, following the 3/4-inch ball rule. After Darla made off like a bandit with about two dozen of them, Honey decided we needed to make them bigger and rolled the rest of the chocolate into balls about 1.5" to 2" in diameter, mixing them not only with nuts, but with confectioners sugar. Good idea. Since these balls are bigger, they're more satisfying and I, for one, am less tempted to mindlessly pop one in my mouth as I am when they're smaller.

Though we had Bailey's at home, I opted to use Grand Marnier because it gave me an excuse to buy it. Insted of Nestle, I used Ghirardelli 60% cocoa, because we had a few bags of that lying around. I grabbed another bag of the Ghirardelli 60% bittersweet and a bag of their milk chocolate when I was at the grocery store Wednesday. I'll try those next. When I feel like I've gotten the process down pat, I'll try darker cocoa, white chocolate, fair trade chocolate, rum, kahlua, cordials that a friend brought me from the Caribbean: all sorts of variations until I'm known as the truffle-lady .... not just a little nuts.

Why-nonymous?

A few days ago, I added a real-life friend of mine to my friends list of my Flickr account - my latest obsession. I had left a comment on a photo of hers, though I wasn't sure she knew that it was me. My screen name is not my real-life name. I have also been commenting lately on her blogs, using this identity. It occurred to me that she probably didn't know me by either alias, so I emailed her to let her know who was behind the curtain.

Several weeks ago, I mentioned this blog, and that I use a pseudonym, to a friend of mine and he joked that Internet anonymity was passe.

This has gotten me thinking lately about why I use pseudonyms online. To begin with, I use my real name online more often than not. But I have various aliases that I use as usernames in forums or on a few networks here and there. The problem with "various aliases" is that I rarely use the same one twice - I really like making up names - so sometimes I forget which alter ego I am, where. When I began this blog, though, I decided I not only wanted to use a pseudonym, I wanted to keep personal details of my life vague as well.

This isn't uncommon. What's probably less common is how vague I am about where I live, and where I used to live. Though the casual reader could probably do some quick math after just a few posts to figure out where I live and the stalker could probably do some higher math to trace the wagon trail that led me here. But he'd probably trace me some other way, anyway.

I guess that's why I'm most protective of my identity on my blog. I don't care if you know who I am on MySpace or LinkedIn, and my Flickr veil is pretty thin. But my blog - this blog anyway - is a space I created for myself for two reasons: 1) to get myself writing on a regular or semi-regular basis; writing about anything that came to mind at all and 2) to think out loud on stuff that I don't always articulate well, or feel safe articulating in public. (Though, lately I've delved no deeper than "it turns out I really do love Grandma.") It's also, of course, part journal. I could achieve both those goals under my real identity, but that would open up an entirely different can of worms.

Could I really bitch about work or family or explore an unpopular/uncommon opinion or viewpoint without annoying - or serious - consequences? A friend of mine's colleague lost her job because she bitched about work on her blog, using her real identity. One of my best childhood friends is a writer and popular political blogger who lives very publicly online. A couple of years ago, she had our high school alumni site remove her contact information; turned out she was getting death threats. One wack job actually mailed her a turd! Granted, I'm sure there are legal loopholes and protections against job-loss for personal blogs and I've never, to my knowledge, posted my contact info online, but who wants the hassle of all that? And I can't just use my first name. There are too few people out there with my name. According to nameplayground.com, my name - or rather, the shortened version, I typically go by - peaked in popularity in 1892 at #818 in the top 1,000 popular female names. Do any search engine hunt on even my first name, and you'll find me in the first page of hits. I need a cloaking device way more than a Jennifer Smith or a Melissa Douglas or a Francine Webb.

But even if my name were as common as Michelle or Amy, or whatever people were naming their babies in the 70s, I would still - at least for this blog - use an alias. As one who has always had a bent for performance, costumes and alternate identities have always appealed to me. For instance, I always post wearing a set of fairy wings and a cowboy hat. It's just something I do. (Don't judge ... unless you're in the 9th Circuit court of appeals.) If I decide to ever start a blog about some specific topic or which focuses on promoting a personal venture, sure, I'll use my real identity. But until then, I'll happily type as Molly Malone, revealing myself to those real-life readers as I go. ... who I've probably "revealed" myself to anyway. You're welcome, real people!

Organization and Orgasms

I spent all yesterday afternoon and night cleaning up the tags on my blog. I'm hoping that the tagging system makes a little more sense than it did in the past. And, if you're interested, I hope you use the tags ... maybe I'll start using yours, then. Reciprocal scratching eh? [wink, wink; nudge, nudge!]

This morning my plan was to blog on either a movie we saw last night or on the practice of blogging itself. Both of those posts will have to wait. Today, I am blatantly ripping off JoeInVegas. Of course, I blatantly rip off Three Beautiful Things all the time, but today, I don't even bother coming up with my own content. And that's because Joe's bit was right up my humor alley. So, thanks for starting my Monday off right, Joe! (still hoping i've got this video embedding business down.)

Laptop Withdrawal

I love my husband. He's such a details nerd.

He's online looking at a road construction plan for a big freeway "to do" that's been going on in our city. He's reading the plans and specs aloud and marveling at how much more efficient it will be. As he has been feeling like death warmed over for the last few days - enough so that he will not be accompanying me to a play tonight and that we had to disinvite friends from a Superbowl get-together tomorrow night - I am satisfied that he is content to geek out over publicly available engineering details.

In the meantime, I have been going through laptop withdrawal. My endearing iBook that I've had for 3 years and some change, suddenly, and without warning, went kaput about a week ago. Thankfully - and amazingly - it was mere moments after I had finished some work for my office and emailed it to myself there. It needs a new harddrive, but right now it's looking like we'll just buy a refurbished (more recent) model. Since we were probably going to buy a whole new one next year, we may as well get one with a few months under the hood this year - especially since the cost of a new harddrive would be half the cost of a refurbished one with a warranty.

All this is to say: this is why I haven't posted, surfed blogs or sent you the delicious bananas foster recipe I promised. (Okay, I've promised none of you any such thing, but it's the comedy rule of three. I needed a punchline.) I've been leeching off of my computer at work to do my personal email, and it's been weird to come home and not go check out the sites I wouldn't dare check at work. (None of them dirty, just ... you know. Not cool for workies to see.)

I leave you with two non-sequitirs:

1) Now that Edwards has dropped out, I'm unsure who to support. Not that I've been bursting at the seams for anyone, really. My gut says Obama, but it's really hard for me to get past his lack of Washington experience. Even Edwards had a solid term under his belt. Nonetheless, I feel he can do a better job of bringing people together than Hillary. As much as I admire her, on many levels, and as popular as she is among the base, the sad truth is, come November, it's not the base that will be voting for her. The electorate will include myriad of people who despise her specifically because she is unapologetic about being a powerful woman. (She shouldn't be, of course, but that's neither here nor there.) There will be myriad voters who despise her for myriad other reasons; many petty, some legitimate. It's hard for me to throw my support behind someone who is essentially a lightning rod; we can't have divisive folks anymore, even if - counter to what Shrub insisted, I fully believe he intended to divide - you go in wanting, with all your heart, to bring two sides together. ... all that, and frankly, I find it hard to support her because I've been watching her since 2000, and until she began her campaign, I don't think she put enough distance between herself and some critical Bush policies. ... so that's what's on my mind as our primary nears.

2) Below is a link to a video of a performance group I love. I think they really challenge us to think about what art is, what performance is, what social experiment is and what the role of the audience is. Enjoy Improv Everywhere's recent "mission." ... oh, and it reminded me of a similar art blog that RocketBoom did a few months ago. (But IE's was cooler!) (PS. It may be sacrosanct in the nerd world, but I like RocketBoom' Joanne Colan a lot better than her predecessor, Amanda Congdon. The former is much more natural than the latter.)

Now, off to see a play!

PS. If anyone can tell me how I embed Youtube/Brightcove/MilkandCookies/etc, etc, videos here, I'd appreciate it. I feel like such a dork just posting links.

So THAT'S where they went!

A few months ago, I added comment moderation because I was getting too many comments advertising penis enhancers, anonymous anal sex and Nintendo Wiis. As I am quite happy with the "equipment" I am already privy to and I am quite happy with the very nonymous sex that I get, and we recently already bought a Wii, I decided I could do without the magnanimous offerings of strangers who decide to pad their comments with spaces and random characters. Perhaps they will find a more receptive audience elsewhere.

But when I enabled comment moderation, the comments seemed to disappear, or would only randomly appear. This morning however, in the "new blogger" which requires I sign in with a gmail account, I discovered I had a dozen comments to sift through in my comment moderation holding pen. So I did. Some date back two months. I have added all but one - the one that was advertising anal sex with a Nintendo Wii controller that had been slathered with penis enhancing cream. Frankly, hot as that sounds, I didn't feel it necessary to include in the chorus.

It was nice reading the comments. Particularly ones that were posted near the lowest point of my recent emotional crisis. Even if you didn't know that's what was going on, or if that was not what you were commenting on, the observations really kind of retroactively sustain me if that makes any sense. ... actually, screw "sense:" this is life and life is largely a hilarious exercise in absurdity in so many ways.

All that is to say: if you've commented in the last few months and haven't seen the comments in the comment field, forgive me. It has been corrected. Huzzah! (And the villagers rejoiced!)

Feliz Año Nuevo y el poste centésimo!

Feliz Año Nuevo! Felice Anno Nuovo! Gelukkig Nieuw Jaar! Glückliches Neues Jahr!
新年好! καλή χρονιά! 明けましておめでとう! С Новым годом! Feliz Ano Novo!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!*

(*My apologies to the genuine polyglots reading this who may recognize translational errors. I actually just cut and pasted from a translator site.)

I hope each and every one of you rang in the new year to your liking and that you had a safe first night as well as a fun one. Today I am not only celebrating the birth of 2007, but I am also celebrating my 100th post on this here blog. That's right: if this were television, my posts could start going into syndicated reruns! Huzzah for Molly!

I have 90 minutes until 2007 begins her second day - at least in this time zone - so I'll try to type quickly to keep this post a New Year post.

Last night was very low key. It was the lowest key New Year's Eve I'd had in a while, I think. We had another couple over and just played board and DVD games. Then we toasted in the New Year with Dick Clark and the throng in Time's Square. Today, Honey and I just padded around the house, eating leftovers and cookies and watching movies. We've each had the last week off and we've done little else besides eating cookies, Honey's bread and watching movies. It's been Heaven! Today we watched Joyeux Noel, The Promise and An Inconvenient Truth. Let's see if I can give a quick phrase review of each, respectively: 1) never a more beautiful treason - I sobbed ... a lot; 2) lovely, viscerally freaky and thematically pointless; 3) info we all know delivered with effective impact.

New year resolutions are not something I tend to pursue. When I have pursued them, I have broken them quickly, like so many of us are wont to do. Nevertheless, I do believe setting goals is a good thing, so I will list some goals for 2007 I want to accomplish. For most of these, I will set no timeline, nor punishment if I fail to achieve them. Here is what I hope to accomplish in 2007:
1. try my hand at stand up comedy at least once.
2. refrain from beginning most sentences in my blog or any other personal essay with "I" or some other lame "I"-related word or phrase.
3. have at least one job this year that is not an entry level position
4. practice patience, particularly with regards to those who test mine the most
5. attend church at least once a month ... synagogue counts, too, if I take up that shabat invitation I had to take a raincheck on last year
6. pray my mantra daily, and not just when I'm angry or feel guilty; pray also for the success and good will of my enemies both real and perceived; and generally more often and less selfishly
7. graduate!
8. be a more pro-active, engaged citizen
9. reduce, reuse, recycle more often
10. write an honest argument counter to my own opinion on a topic which I feel strongly about so that I can see the other side's point of view
11. hell: WRITE MORE! (and my thesis doesn't count for credit towards that)
12. increase the percentage of organic foods in my diet even more
13. start jogging regularly again
14. learn that I'm the boss of chocolates and sweets, they're not the boss of me
15. learn to accept that which I cannot control

I love Lucy!

Again, I should be doing something productive ... Okay, I already primed the living room so that most of that horrible Robin's Egg Blue is gone, but I mean I should be doing something more productive this instant. Instead, I'm again checking up on my new habit, Lucy over on YouTube.

I found this video made in response to her "Growing Pains" post. Oh, how I wish I knew how to use a camera and cool editing software on my laptop (especially since I work around the damned equipment!), so I could post some cool encouraging post card for her! I would basically tell her what that one guy with the britty accent told her. (And this would go for VirginiaGal, too, since I know she's questioning her decisions and her path right now.) Own your decisions and trust that they are good ones and the ones that need to made right now, and that they will eventually pay off.

Brit guy is very right about "well, med school is right for her, but not for you [Lucy], that's not where your passion is ..." to paraphrase badly. I remember in the year or so after college graduation, many of my friends were going off to either coast to pursue acting full time. I, on the other hand, had moved to Oklahoma to live with my then boyfriend, now husband. After 4 or 5 years of studying acting, I was a little burned out on the craft and wanted a normal life. But I remember feeling guilty about it: I had an acting degree, shouldn't I necessarily be starving in LA or NYC? Everyone else was committing to their careers, shouldn't I be? But one of my cohorts who fled to Chicago to get her career moving helped me put it in perspective: our lives unfold at their own pace and this is where my life is now. Honey is who I want to be with regardless of career and at 24, I had him. We have to grab our opportunities when they're with us. For me, love entered my life before career. I'm 30 and I'm just now getting the whiff of the career path I think I want to pursue. For others - Lucy, for instance - career has presented itself first. Though I often envy people my age (and former classmates) who are further along in their respective careers than I am, I'm ultimately glad about the choice I made. This is my pace. This is my life. It will be good.

I can't help but note the similarity in Lucy's Hollywood life and VirginiaGal's Indian-American life. Both seem to be framed by unrealistic expectations: one determined by unhealthy body image and sexual appeasement by sleazy management types and the other by a community with aging, rigid social prescriptions. Ladies, don't sell out to cheap pressures and unattainable suppositions; you're both far too wonderful to fall prey to others' petty desires. Lucy and VirginiaGal your lives are beautiful and so are you: don't second guess your choices. What you do now, you do because you trust it will make you happier in the long run. I admire you both deeply and am a big fan!

... isn't it adorable how I write this as if someone other than my darling Niamh actually reads this? How goes it in Shropshire, btw, Niamh? How is the box turtle?

I'm rooting for her!

It's Thursday night. There are many things I should be doing right now. I should be doing laundry. I should be scanning e-bay looking for games for my thesis. I should be prowling the web looking for gaming geeks to help me with my thesis. I should be writing some deep post or other. And probably most of all, as it is 10 o'clock and I've not slept much this week, I should be going to bed!

What am I doing, though? I've been cruising YouTube. I was going to cruise looking for Battlestar Galactica fan videos, but I caught sight of a "popular video of the day" on the front page of YouTube and am now hooked. I've just spent the last hour with LUCYinLA. She's a 24 year old woman from Texas (woohoo!) who's trying to make it in Hollywood and decided to start her own video blog. I hope she does make it.

I was too much of a coward to try Hollywood or New York when I left school with a BFA in acting in hand. The older I get, I find the more risk averse I become. When I was 18, I would've been all about it - that's probably when I should have done it; forgone college for the coast - but at 23, I was too scared. At 30, I'm too old in film terms to try to launch from the West Coast, but I still suspect I could get something going out here - local voice overs, extras work, bit parts, etc. The thing about acting is: you become a product and you have to market yourself. I know people talk about that, but - and I see it now more than ever, actually working on a show - it's true.

I'm 5'3" blonde and am about 10 lbs heavier than my happy weight. I'm "cute mom," "awkward date," or "rugged pioneer woman" (think Amy Poehler or Jodi Foster, only with boobs and hips) pretty, but not leading lady or classically beautiful. If I wanted to be serious about acting, I'd have to drop at least 20 lbs, visit the salon on at least a monthly basis for all the hairstyling and coloring, facials and waxings and nail jobs. (How much does that add up to? $200-$300/month, maybe?) I'd have to update my headshots - another $1000 right there, and I'd have to get a better wardrobe, say maybe $200/month on new trendy clothes. And, like Lucy in the video suggests, that's all the cosmetic stuff, that doesn't even address the talent portion. I'd probably need to spend a few hundred bucks a quarter on workshops and classes to stay fresh. I'm one of the lowest-maintenance women I've ever known. All that up-keep is annoying to me. On top of that, I'm one of the cheapest, stingiest people I know: spending that amount of money terrifies me to the core, even if and when I have it. But the real truth of the matter is, even though I'm talented, even though I'm pretty - though not nearly as much of either as I was at 18 or 23 - I'm afraid of being laughed off the stage. It's so much safer to be a working shlub in an office who's abandoned her dreams.

I think that's why I like this girl. She's got the chutzpah I lost several years ago. And she still seems like such a down-to-earth person. I've known other actors who are indeed very nice, but have that "business" air to them. Like the ambition to succeed in show business colors their interactions with everyone. For instance, I have no sway in anything and never have, but I've known some whose niceness seems disingenuous, as if they don't want to insult me, just on the off-chance that I may ascend to some power sometime. Like politeness is an insurance policy and not just the standard. This girl, Lucy, puts off the vibe that she'd be nice to you because she likes you - she seems genuinely joyful. I admire her. I'm rooting for her. Watch her blogs. Go to her movies when they come out!

Resurfacing

I'm sure none of you out there (all two of you including my dear, concoted pal, Niamh) missed me much in the last 31 days. Sorry for the radio silence. If I haven't been moving in at home, I've been moving at work. It seems like this is the summer of packing tape. And when I wasn't moving somewhere I was hosting someone. Most notably my parents who came up for my 30th birthday.

So, to cap, in the last month, I've moved at home, moved at work, turned 30 and passed the 5th anniversary of my participation in the time honored institution of marriage.

Honey and I went to Disneyworld this last week to celebrate our 65th Birthdayversary. (We both turned 30 this spring and had our 5th wedding anniversary this summer, hence birthdayversary.) That's also where we went for our honeymoon. I love Disneyworld. If you wanna just chill by the pool or play golf or do nothing, you can. If you want a sugar rush and cheese-ass entertainment, you've got that, too. If you want to just zip around on adrenaline (ie, rollercoasters), you can do that, too. AND they've got buonissimo restaurants and fireworks almost everynight. You can't go wrong. ... except we learned it's probably best not to go in July. Too crowded. We've gone before in February - crowds fine, but too chilly to swim - and in May. May was perfect: not too crowded; weather still warm enough for the water parks.

We hadn't been back since early 2002, and it seemed enough had changed to make it "new" but still enough had remained the same to make it familiar. "Pirates of the Carribean," my heretofore least favorite ride had been improved upon, enough to make me actually like it. They've added an animatronic Depp as Sparrow throughout the ride, as well as Davy Jones greeting you as you enter the tunnel. "Space Mountain," the ride I'm most ambivalent about, has unfortunately not been improved upon. It desperately needs a facelift. The damned dorky 1970s bad scifi set has got to go. I much loved the one in Paris better.

There's much to catch up on, I'm sure. But that's the best nugget so far. Sorry to all 2 of my minions for being off the charts lately!

"Lost" lust and feminist guilt

I've been pretty darned remiss in posting, lately, but not nearly so much as one of my blog-dulgences, TexasWhip. I don't know where those guys have disappeared to. My excuse? I've been hosting guests, working overtime a lot and we're in the process of buying a house, so I have to spend my freetime freaking out.

Since we've been waiting for Battlestar Galatica to resume for season 3, Honey and I have been catching up on that more mainstream TV phenom, Lost. The pilot was so-so, but I've been surprised how quickly we've been drawn in. We're loading up on season one on Netflix. It's crazy. Lost falls into common sentimental traps of TV writing at least once every episode or two, but for the most part, the story is really fascinating. I love the X-files feel to everything. Freaks my ass out. And I recently discovered that the actor who plays the hottie Iraqi soldier, Sayid, for whom I must mop up my drool, is also the same actor who played the lucious Sikh soldier, Kip in the English Patient.

On another note ... Thursday night, a girlfriend and I went to see another mutual girlfriend perform in a play. The show was written in '75 or '76, but basically at the height of the modern feminist movement. I question the director's choice to remount the show. It was just five women monologuing on their lives (our friend's performance, btw, was the best part of the show; she was the most natural and played the most levels. She's almost as much a delight to watch as she is to know.). While I sat there listening to this show, it suddenly occured to me that the basic sentiments being expressed in this piece were the underlying reasons why I feel guilty for not being a bigger breadwinner in my family, for actually wanting to have babies and, on very rare occasions, for being married. The gist of the monologuing women's pieces was this: "My life was what it was: sometimes good, sometimes bad, but my own. And then I met a man and had children, or an abortion. My life was never my own after that and I'm miserable." The only character who wasn't miserable was loopy. The play told me, "You should not be happy." It was also kind of like, between the lines, I could hear the 80s Barbie, saying, "Molly, I told you, 'We girls can do anything!' It's 2006! You're not doing the 'anything' things I was trying to inspire you to do! You may as well be one of these characters!"

I bore in mind that the show was written in the 70s and 30 years ago, this was probably the perfect piece. There's gotta be a period in every social movement when those who are moving up have to work through the demons of why they're moving up. I'm suspicious of groups who do not vent emotionally. But I really failed to see how this piece was compelling today. Though the womens' emotional experiences may not have been anachronistic entirely, it seemed their social experiences were so too far removed from my own understanding of women in America, today (ie, the thought that you can't go to college, just because you're a woman) that it just rang self-important and insincere. All of this could be a by-product of the play's production not supporting the material as well as it could have. I don't know.

To recap, the play tells me: "Marriage makes you lose your sense of self. Family suffocates you. It is better to be lost alone than a lost matron. You should not want these things." But here is what I know: I love my husband with all my being - even when he drives me nuts. I love my marriage with all my heart. And I am very, very happy with both. And for those reasons, I really did not like the theme of the play, as I perceived it. But I definitely congratulate my girlfriend on her performance. Darling, you made that show bearable and thank you, for actually finding the humor in the piece!

Is this an April Fool Joke?

Anyone else having trouble posting to blogger, today? I posted earlier this morning and nothing is showing. I tried changing my template and no go there, either. Phooey and caca!

Stupid Posting

Does anyone know why my last post isn't showing up on my opening page? I type in my blogspot address, and it takes me to my March 5 post. However, if I go to archives and click on March 2006, it'll take me to my most recent post. Why isn't my most recent post showing up on blog front page, as it were? This is so frustrating!

What is this tagging business?

I visited Virginia Gal's blog the other day and she had some brief survey of herself which she then said she had "tagged" me with. However, she never sent me a note saying as much so I probably wouldn't have known it had I not visited her blog. So, I suppose it's really she who has a tag and it is up to me to visit her tag to see if my name is on it. Oh, well so here goes, I suppose:

FIVE RANDOM THINGS ABOUT ME

1. If, when walking along a sidewalk, I feel like one foot has led stepping over cracks too much, I'll change my stride so that the other foot gets the chance to lead.

2. Sausage pizza grosses me out.

3. I love the non-elastic skin and tawny liver spots on old peoples' hands - especially my mother's and grandmother's.

4. I wish I had a singular passion in life - other than loving my family - that people could look at and say, "oh yeah, Molly loves to do this more than anything." Y'know, something that identifies me in a way; separates me from the background noise of all the other boring, middle class white folks in America.

5. I worry everyone I know and/or love secretly believes I'm incompetent, a dullard and just generally uninteresting and overrated.

I don't know if I'm supposed to "tag" others. I don't think many people read this. But I'll just list some folks whom I think might respond or about whom I'd be interested in reading 5 random things. Nubiantemptres43, VegasJoe, Fotographic Overlord, churchgal and any reader named Niamh: you're it!

Chewy hits the mark; what Cupid Claus left me

First off, please let me direct you to Chewbacca's blog for the most hysterical response to Cheney's "hunting accident" I've seen or heard in the last 48 hours. In the meantime, I'm seriously considering joining the cult of the Wookie. Methinks the Ginormous Yorkie knows the whatfor.

I'm not a huge Valentine's day person. I like it, because I like anything in a culture that encourages candy that tastes like pepto bismol and anything that encourages chocolate. But I don't like it because I hate the month of February, for one, and having spent my adolescence as the girl who watched every other girl in school get roses from her paramour, sold by the student council, it seems like a guilt-fest "holiday". If you don't get a gifty, then you are a lonely hag; if you don't give a gifty, then you are a bitter beast. If you're not inspired to have hot sex, then you're not romantic. (Whatever! Who feels turned on in the drippy, freezing-ass, grey month of February? I like my sex on Texas Independence day, or on Cinco de Mayo, when the irises are blooming and the weather's at the cusp of exploding into heat. OR on Thanksgiving, because after you've stuffed the bird ... Well, now I'm just getting crass. I apologize to the legion children who read this.)

That said, though, I do give my honey Valentine's day cards. I do like giving cards. And this year, at Target, I came across a box of cheapo chocolates that must've beeen inspired by the card above that Lisa gave Ralphie in The Simpson's episode of long ago. I was trying to find a link to the chocolate box, but it's basically that. However, Target online apparently sells a "Strip Chocolate" game. Hmm. Sounds interesting and tasty. From my honey, this year I got a card and a small box of Lindt chocolate. I like that my man loves my humps enough to keep them real round and juicy! And this year - and he never does this - Cupid Claus left me a copy of Princess Mononoke and an anthology of short stories edited by David Sedaris! You do know the tradition, right? Leave a pair of thong undies in the living room of your house on Feb. 13 and every year, if you've archered just enough, Cupid Claus will leave you a gift, under your thong. Thank you, Cupid Claus! I'm so glad I kept up my cross-bow hunting this past year!

On another note, Honey and I concurred that we should name our first child - whenever we have it - KILAMANJARO. Imagine going through life with the name of a revered and feared mountain in Africa; the mountain that is, in fact, the centerpiece for all those inspiring shots of the Serenghetti. No matter what course that child pursues in his/her life, he/she will have the badass name to go with it. Vegan tree-dweller? Corporate Wall Street shark? UN Ambassador? Gigolo? Clergy? ESL Teacher? Ravenous Army General? The name works in all situations. The best part is the business card our child will carry in his/her adulthood, no matter what course of commerce the child chooses pursue: Kilamanjaro Malone. MOUNT THIS!

apparently deleting britney does no good

i tried deleting my Feb 10 post since that's when "the troubles" began. did no good. so, sans picture, here's the text again:

Here it is: Britney with baby son in lap.

She swears she did it to get her kid out of the way of the over-intrusive paparazzi. Ah, yes Britney. Yes, because a handful of creeps on foot with cameras are just as murderously dangerous as say, an enraged kodiak bear. So she HAD to act the way she did. I mean, why actually defend your child by placing your body in front of him when you can just endanger your child by driving off into busy traffic with him on your lap? Supposedly now she is rife with contrition. You can just feel that she knows the error of her ways, can't you? "It is what it is." Wow. So profound. Apparently the guy in passenger's seat is a bodyguard. Just an idea, Britney, but maybe he should be fired for incompetence. What is incompetence? It means you can't do the basics of your job: like show up for a concert on time, or lip synch accurately or choose a safe method of protecting your young.

In the meantime, I've discovered a blog - or rather one was brought to my attention - which I tried to add to my "favorite blogs" list, but as I have limited competency in the information technology world, I'm not sure it has shown up on the list. In the meantime, here's a link. If you don't laugh till you cry, you have no soul.

Let's see if this works

Pissed Off Pencil, I tried your suggestion of changing just the template stuff. (Thank you, by the way.) It seems to work on the "past" posts, but not on anything Feb. 10 and forward. Grr. So, I'm adding a new post, with the new template no less, to see if that jimmies anything into action. VirginiaGal, As for my man-lover being a digi-whiz: after spending half the weekend with no power - thank you, snowstorm! - he is happily back online battling virtual nazis, aliens, pirates or whatever the current menace to civilization is.

In the meantime, I'm sure you've all heard about this by now. Why do I have a feeling this was not so accidental? Pull MY funding will you! HA! Go fetch your quail, lackey!

AARRGGH!

If anyone knows how to contact Blogger so that I can get this code mayhem fixed so my blog doens't look like crap, let me know. I have no idea what happened! Niamh? Any clues? Any mates down at the pub know how to jimmy with computers?

An appetizer for Niamh

It looks like I haven't posted in about two weeks. Sorry about that, Niamh. I hope you're having a wonderful Christmas season. (Even with the population of England largely atheist/other these days, y'all still call it Christmas, right? That's what I inferred from "Love Actually.") I'll try to be more faithful with this in the coming days. But in any event, have plenty of figgy pudding for me!

I just thought, today, I'd leave you with a link to some guy's list of worst album covers, ever. It made me laugh so hard I teared up at work the other day. Consider it my stocking stuffer to you, Niamh!

Like a train wreck; Morbid fascination

Did J.K. Rowling ever see this coming?

mmm ... avoidance

I have washed almost all the loads of laundry that have piled up in my bedroom for the last three weeks. They were threatening to unite and apply for their own zip code. Yes, the laundry needed to be done, and I'm very tempted to undertake a massive cleaning and organizing effort in my office as well, but the truth of the matter is, I'm really just avoiding what really needs to be done. I've got many articles to proofead and a take-home quiz for class tomorrow that has yet to see the outside of my backpack, and at some point, I need to get caught up with some short papers I have to write for another class.
The house always benefits from big school projects. Never are the mirrors less spotty, the laundry more clean, nor my office more organized than when I've an annoying deadline looming just days or hours away. Even this, my new blog, benefits from more pressing priorities. Certainly my entry today could wait. But no!
Why, I haven't really anything to write about.
I'm sure I'm boring my one imaginary reader, my hermit in Shropshire, with my nothing-to-write-about-ness. Sorry, Niamh. (I've named him Niamh.)
Incidentally, the tagline for the Shropshire tourist board is, "Can we tempt you...?" That sounds a bit like a sheepish plea, some half-hearted attempt. What do you mean, "can we tempt you...?" Not with an attitude like that! And not with noncomittal elipses trailing at the end of the question. Just get off your duff and tempt me, damnit! "The funniest thing to come out of Shropshire" at first blush doesn't inspire me to shell out the dough for a trip across the big pond the way a chance to participate in a "muy caliente" tomato orgy in Spain would. But to ask my permission to be seduced? What? Seduce, me Shropshire. Show me what you got. However, when I inquire about activities like dining in your area, please refrain from directing me to a site about a syndrome that sounds like the love child of acid reflux and wheat allergy. That is just unappetizing!