Liz is Working

Liz is Working tag:www.urbanhonking.com,2008-04-12:/liz//24 2008-05-06T22:58:51Z Movable Type Publishing Platform 4.0 Sweet tag:www.urbanhonking.com,2008:/liz//24.14175 2008-05-06T22:30:23Z 2008-05-06T22:58:51Z

When I arrived at work this morning, I noticed that I had scrawled a word across my notepad and circled it. This word was "paranormal." I stared at it for quite awhile trying to decide what it was I had...

dvd collection I wanted to remember to bring home. We had our first baby shower over the weekend, put on by the super nice people at J's work. Whoever heard of the husband's work throwing a party for him and his pregnant wife? No one! Super nice! We got lots of adorable little fuzzy outfits, which is great because now the baby will have something other than recycled newspaper to wear, which is what I had been saving up just in case. There were also piles of glorious food, like deviled eggs (heaven) and brownies (J heaven). The cake was pretty cute, with a frosting baby and tiny frosting bear on it. My mom became smitten with the bear and wouldn't let the hostess cut the cake before she'd carefully removed him and placed him on a little plate. The hostess presented me with the plate and slightly squished frosting bear, "Your mom wanted you to have the bear!" This put me in somewhat of a predicament because...well, what does one do with a frosting bear that's been granted a second life on a paper plate? He'd lost his right ear in the transfer, but otherwise looked up cheerily. I left my new friend in the kitchen while we opened gifts in the other room. I was sort of hoping the bear had taken care of himself in the meantime. Perhaps ran off with a sultry potato chip or found his way into the tummy of the 6-year-old wandering around, but he was still waiting for me when the hostess began packing up leftovers. "Your bear!" my mom said, handing me the plate. "Now how are you going to get him home?" I suggested we slide him onto the piece of cake we were taking (because I did not have my large keepsake locket on hand). He lost the other ear in the process. A day later, I ate the leftover cake, but now found I was having trouble eating the bear. Maybe because he'd been deemed "my" bear at some point, like I was supposed to care for him now, perhaps pay his way into frosting bear technical college and attend his graduation and then check in on him now and again as he pursued his dreams of becoming a clinical laboratory technician. The bear eventually became more squished and unrecognizable as he the fork pushed him aside and he wound up, more or less, a little mound of brown goo. Then, when he wasn't looking at me anymore, I stopped worrying about him. The slice of cake also happened to have the baby on it, but I had no problems eating the baby's chubby face and his be-onesied crawly body. I mean, after all, it was just frosting.]]> Oh, there were expletives tag:www.urbanhonking.com,2008:/liz//24.14154 2008-05-02T13:27:19Z 2008-05-02T15:28:16Z

There are lots of kitchen gadgets we have that are fun, but don't get used very often. Chocolate fountain, fondue set, cherry pitter, melon baller, s'mores roaster. Of course, the once a year when I need to pit a huge...

Deb's Expletive-Free Cake for Passover and needed a way to bring the cake over to my parents'. Now I had one and we were off to good start. Unfortunately a good start is as far as I got. I know I managed to make the cake last year with minimal fuss, but this year I got snagged every step of the way. First, the recipe called for Dutch-processed cocoa, which I had a hard time finding. A guy at Whole Foods assured me their bulk cocoa was the right stuff, but I was nervous about throwing off the chemistry of the delicate cake and worried the whole time I didn't have the right stuff. I had finished the batter--which is a giant mess of whipped egg whites and chocolate and creamed yolks--before looking over the ingredient list again and wondering where those 4 tablespoons of water were supposed to come in. OH, at the beginning, you say? Could I add water to a pile of beaten egg whites? Guess I would have to! Not too much trouble. But the cake is four layers and I only have the two pans, so a double batch would be in order. As the first layers were in the kitchen, I looked over the ingredient list again and saw this: salt. Shit! Well, if water can go into batter after the fact, the salt was going to have to, too. Into half the cake, anyway. Then my eye caught the stupid cocoa sitting on the counter. Shit again! When was the cocoa supposed to go in? A quick scan of the recipe told me...it didn't! I was only used as a dusting between layers. Grumble grumble. The salt-less layers looked okay, if a little flat. Time to make the whipped cream filling. Can't screw that up, right? Turns out it's as easy as using the wrong measuring cup! Who likes extra sweet whipped cream! Anyway, the whole thing eventually came together, but not after ruining the expletive-free part of the recipe. People even ate it and liked it! J wanted to bring the leftovers home to continue eating it! Bringing leftovers home would be a cinch, because hello! Cake carrier. We made it about two blocks in the car before we heard a mysterious slide, thump, and crash. I stopped the car. Me: What was that? J: Did the cake make it into the back seat? Turns out J had temporarily put the cake on the car's roof while loading other stuff and then forgotten about it. We drove back to assess the damage. The poor cake never had a fighting chance. It ended its days spread all over Narcissus Way. "How's the carrier?" I asked anxiously. J just shook his head. A total loss. The story made my mom laugh enough to replace the carrier. I certainly learned to read through a recipe more than once before starting it. And J chalks the splattered cake up to experience. Now he'll know to be extra careful with the baby car seat.]]> Revenge of the typists tag:www.urbanhonking.com,2008:/liz//24.14144 2008-04-29T14:08:21Z 2008-04-29T14:12:25Z

A couple weeks ago on a morning news show featuring the pope's visit to the white house, the banner across the bottom read: "Who is Pope Benedict XVI?" throughout the entire segment--a topic they were not discussing. I forgot my headphones when I went to the gym, so was forced to resort to closed captioning. This makes me feel bad for people who rely on that for knowing exactly what's going on, because those typists are just wildly guessing a lot of the time. Case in point: the closed captioning referred to "A Chorus Line" as "A Corrus Line" repeatedly. Later it was "Core reduce." More disturbing case in point: closed captioning also rendered CNN anchor Sunny Hostin's name as "Sunny Holocaustin." Holocaustin! * * * Overheard conversation in Portland while waiting for brunch: Guy 1: Wait, so it's "Sheep go to heaven, goats go to hell"? Guy 2: Yeah. Or the other way around. Guy 1: ... Guy2: Either way, there's no chickens. Wait, I'm still here! tag:www.urbanhonking.com,2008:/liz//24.14127 2008-04-26T19:04:47Z 2008-04-26T19:28:47Z

That's our son! All that morning sickness and the baby bump and the squiggling around in my belly--turns out it really is a baby. With, like, fingers and toes and a mouth and stuff. I didn't really think about the ultrasound as being a movie, but that's what it is. We got to watch him kicking and sucking his thumb and making kissy faces against my belly. It was totally surreal and probably the coolest thing I've ever witnessed.

So: a boy! We didn't have a preference and wanted to find out, so that was a fun surprise. I know a lot of people hold out on finding out the gender of the baby so they'll have a "final" surprise at the end, but I kinda figure there will be lots of surprises to come. I've never once heard anyone say, "Now that the baby's born, everything's so boring and predictable!" Plus, now we know to buy footballs and trucks for the nursery instead of Disney princesses. Very helpful.

If you haven't already, you should stop by and wish Sally a hearty congratulations for giving birth to her own little boy last week. I'm glad I have an internet friend a few months ahead of me on this one so I can make use of all her birth and baby-raising advice.

I'm hoping to post a lot this week to make up for the weeks of silence. You can look forward to stories about botched closed captioning and putting the expletives back into the expletive-free cake. Seriously, the cake was cursed.

]]> No more waffling tag:www2.urbanhonking.com,2008:/liz//24.5523 2008-04-11T02:35:25Z 2008-04-13T01:20:46Z

Vacations are pretty great. Willow and Mike were wonderful hosts and we basically ate our way through Portland. I think Portland is made up exclusively of delicious dinners, pizza, coffee, donuts, breakfasts, rice pudding, desserts, and assorted treats. You know...

Waffle carts. You know what they make at these waffle carts? Yes: giant crispy waffles folded over an assortment of wonderful fillings and then wrapped up in foil like a gyro so you can eat a waffle with warm maple butter spread and veggie sausages while you are walking. I know! Even though it rained off and on, the sun did peek through fairly often. That combined with my first visit to IKEA marked my official truce called with the Pacific Northwest. We are now friends again. I'm not packing up and leaving Denver or anything, but I probably shouldn't think about the waffle cart too much for fear that I will rationalize a $200 plane ticket in the near future just to jam one more waffle in my mouth. I'm pregnant and prone to irrational behavior! If I go missing, you'll know where to look. Every morning while I eat my cereal, I tune into a little television. I used to exclusively watch the news, flipping between several stations, but during a rare all-commercial moment, I skipped around and found "A Baby Story" on TLC. Now guess what I watch for ten minutes every day? The timing of it is such that I usually get to watch the actual birth. Maybe you would think this is a bad choice for breakfast viewing, but whatever. It's all TLC'd and junk so it's pretty non-graphic. Anyway, I think if I watch an average of 5 births a week until I have to give birth, it will dull my reaction to it when it actually happens. Like somehow watching birth stories will count as some sort of actual experience. You do get a good sampling of stories: cesareans, natural births, water births, epidurals. This helps you learn things, like water births look pretty relaxing, and you can sleep through labor on an epidural, and at some point all the women declare that they don't want to do this anymore. The one thing I have definitely decided on is that people who have their birth stories filmed for national television are cra-zy. At this point, I'm not even sure I want a camera in room, much less a video camera, and MUCH LESS a film crew. So see, I'm learning things about myself already. Sorry for the birthing tangent. Here is a wonderful picture of a Cap'n Crunch Voodoo Doughnut to clear your head:

It's no waffle cart waffle, but still pretty wonderful.]]> Ninjas tag:www2.urbanhonking.com,2008:/liz//24.5522 2008-04-03T04:04:36Z 2008-04-13T01:20:46Z

Off to Portland in the morning. I'll leave you with this banner ad I caught. I think it's my favorite....

]]> And don't call me Shirley tag:www2.urbanhonking.com,2008:/liz//24.5521 2008-03-28T15:45:50Z 2008-04-13T01:20:46Z

Am I allowed to gripe about maternity clothes yet? Why are there so many bows and floral prints? Why are pants so hard to find and fit correctly? Why is all the really hip stuff super expensive? I'm mostly cranky...

Listening to radio J: Is he saying "shorty" or "Shirley"? Liz: What? "Shorty"! J: Who's Shorty? Liz: You've never heard "shorty" before? It's slang for a girl. It's mentioned in like every hip hop song. How have you never noticed this? J: I don't know. Liz: In like every hip hop song this radio station plays. *pause* Liz: You've heard it before. What about that awful Shaggy cover of "Angel" that they played nonstop for years. Shorty, you're my angel, you're my darling angel... You know that song. J: Yeah. I guess I thought they were saying "Shirley."]]> New Slate tag:www2.urbanhonking.com,2008:/liz//24.5520 2008-03-25T16:56:48Z 2008-04-13T01:20:46Z

J and I are heading off to Portland for vacation next Thursday. Prior to our honeymoon in California, J had never been to the west coast; this will be his first time in the Pacific Northwest. I haven't been back...

Ulysses for my senior thesis (though I thought it was brilliant at the time). Colorado born and bred, the constant cloudiness and rain there felt overly oppressive. I felt miserable most of the time, though it was punctuated by moments of happiness. I only have a couple friends I still keep in touch with from there. Every so often, I'd hop in the car and head down to Portland to visit Willow, where I'd get to absorb her own, very different, college experience. No less angsty, but much more hippy. The whole experience was in stark contrast to my time on the east coast, where I immediately felt in place. I spent the hardest years of my life so far there between 9-11 and trying to find a good job while living off pennies, yet it somehow immediately resonated differently with me. And Denver, well, Denver's home. I'm looking forward to starting fresh with the Northwest, washing it free of all the bad connotations from the past and seeing it again with new eyes. Everything is different now anyway. No one's in college, Willow has her own home and job and friends there. I'll be visiting to share in something happy and already established instead of running away from something uncomfortable. Plus, we're being taken to Voodoo Doughnuts. Things tend to turn out okay when there are human-head sized donuts around.]]> Hunter tag:www2.urbanhonking.com,2008:/liz//24.5519 2008-03-20T15:37:15Z 2008-04-13T01:20:46Z

Latest things Max has hunted and brought to us for approval: socks slippers pajama bottoms tissues large sytrofoam cube Giant blue stuffed elephant open mini box of Nerds As promised, a pic of the chess set cake: I have to...

I have to guess it's pregnancy related, but I am having the most disturbing set of dreams lately. They range from the the mildly upsetting (gulping down diet coke and being unable to stop) to really gory (participating in a killing rampage). I've been consuming only the most mild of reading material before bed (New Yorker profiles, US Weekly, baby development books), so can't really imagine where it's all coming from. I mean except as the manifestation of fear and anxiety about growing a baby and all. But still. Shouldn't I just be having those "I gave birth to a chicken!" dreams?]]> For the crystal otter, you have to go to the real store tag:www2.urbanhonking.com,2008:/liz//24.5518 2008-03-18T15:26:04Z 2008-04-13T01:20:46Z

Friday was J's birthday, and now he's officially lived longer than Jesus (if you don't get too religious about it). We celebrated by having one million people over to come see our new house, and because we were feeling extra...

her blog if you would like to eventually learn if Albanians are weirded out by peanut butter or what kind of toilet facilities are available. I made J a chess set cake, with molded chocolate chess pieces and everything. It was one of those things that seemed like an excellent idea at the time and then morphed into The Biggest Project Ever. (I have pics, but haven't loaded them yet; hold tight.) I think the end project was worth it, because then I immediately started getting ideas for other types of theme cakes. Monopoly board! Scrabble! Sometimes I think I just think up super-involved projects just to test my insanity. You'll know I've lost it for real if I ever start molding little red houses. Overheard at the mall at the Swarovski crystal stand: "Of course we don't have the full line here, since this is just a kiosk." Overheard at Sam's Club: "None of my other kids would use one, so when my youngest girl was born I made her carry around that blanket everywhere. She finally gave it up when she was seven, though. I just thought it was so cute!"]]> Cereal Killer tag:www2.urbanhonking.com,2008:/liz//24.5517 2008-03-13T15:41:37Z 2008-04-13T01:20:46Z

I used to casually eat some dry cereal at my desk for breakfast during the week. Now it a necessity that I consume a giant bowl of milk-laden cereal almost as soon as I wake up. Sometimes if I wake...

Hurkey Jobson or Lobo Steel. Very exciting. Okay, I can't get the beef panties from ANTM out of my head. Beef panties! Aside from being repulsive in every possible way, those panties cannot be sanitary. Do you think they got to wear some sort of protective, beef-juice-repelling swimsuit bottoms or something underneath? I'm going to go with yes, if only so I can go through my day without actually shuddering into a million pieces.]]> Snickers Fudge tag:www2.urbanhonking.com,2008:/liz//24.5516 2008-03-10T17:45:55Z 2008-04-13T01:20:46Z

For a recent cooking club the theme was "song lyrics," wherein we had to find some food stuffs in songs that we could make for the group.* I put J in charge of this one, which meant he spent a...

I dream of cherry pies, candy bars, and chocolate chip cookies (you got it, you got it). Homemade candy bars it was. We searched for awhile on the internet, and while looking up Snickers bar recipes I suddenly had a flash of memory that I'd eaten this before. It didn't sound familiar to J at all, but a call home to my my mom confirmed that not only had I eaten it before, but that we had made it one Christmas. I asked if she still had the recipe and while rummaging around she mentioned she thought she'd gotten it from me. Well! This is exactly what gmail is perfect for. A quick search turned up an email I sent my mom in 2006 with a link to this recipe. Funny how things come full circle.

We doubled the top layer, though I don't think it needed it in the end. Just a caution that natural peanut butters won't work well in this recipe; you need the gross stuff with the hydrogenated oils in it. I suppose I should also warn you that this tends to make people go crazy. They will a) not believe you made it, b) insist it is the best stuff they've ever put in their mouths, and c) curse you while going back for fourths. *Despite there being much talk of promised cherry pies, none materialized.]]> How People Get Themselves Punched in the Throat tag:www2.urbanhonking.com,2008:/liz//24.5515 2008-03-05T17:03:20Z 2008-04-13T01:20:46Z

At a very crowded suburban Joann Fabrics Me: Excuse me, we were just at another store and they called here to have you hold some fabric for us. Where do we go to get that? Sales Lady: At the cut...

[take a number (seriously!) and wait at cut table for 20 minutes] Cut Table Lady: Number 14! Me: Hi, we were just at another store and they called here to have you hold some fabric for us. CTL: Huh. Really? I don't have anything here. Hold on a minute. [calls to original Sales Lady] Hey! Are you holding some fabric for someone over there? Sales Lady: Yes. CTL: She'll help you over there. Me [to Sales Lady]: Y'know, I asked you where to go and you had me wait in line at that table for 20 minutes. Sales Lady: . . .]]> Tossing Cookies tag:www2.urbanhonking.com,2008:/liz//24.5514 2008-02-29T16:07:09Z 2008-04-13T01:20:46Z

Without fail, around 2:00 pm every day I get a major craving for cookies. This means that every day I get to go down and bother Aubrey at her desk: Do you have cookies? Where are the cookies? Why hasn't...

put them into baggies. I think: There is no way I will ever want those cookies today. Blech. Then 2:00 rolls around and all I can do is mourn the cookies sitting useless in my kitchen at home. It's a sad cycle. Remember last year when I realized Denver loves to write thank you notes? I got another one yesterday. From Nordstrom. Specifically from the dude at the Kiehl's cosmetics counter thanking me for purchasing some hair serum. He really hoped I liked it. No no, thank YOU, Kiehl's cosmetics counter dude. Thank YOU. It might reach 70 here on Saturday, which means it's officially on the way to spring. It also may snow on Sunday, which means spring is a relative term in Denver.]]> Yo Mamma's So Fishy... tag:www2.urbanhonking.com,2008:/liz//24.5513 2008-02-26T14:37:54Z 2008-04-13T01:20:46Z

Thanks for all the nice wishes! It feels good to be able to talk about being pregnant; I think not writing about it on blog was part of the three month hiatus. Who can concentrate on hilarious reality television when...

First of all: "YoMommy"? Hahahahaha! But upon further examination, it contains folic acid and vitamin D and DHA and it was on sale, so hey, why not? I sat down the next day to eat some and after the first bite--which tasted fine--I happened to turn the container around to look at the ingredients. Let's take a look:

OUR FAMILY RECIPE: CULTURED PASTEURIZED ORGANIC LOW FAT MILK, NATURALLY MILLED ORGANIC SUGAR, ORGANIC RASPBERRIES, FISH OIL (ANCHOVY OIL, SARDINE OIL, TILAPIA FISH GELATIN: A NATURAL SOURCE OF DHA), PECTIN, ORGANIC BLACK CURRANT JUICE CONCENTRATE (FOR COLOR), NATURAL FLAVOR, VITAMIN D3, FOLIC ACID. CONTAINS OUR EXCLUSIVE BLEND OF SIX LIVE ACTIVE CULTURES INCLUDING L. ACIDOPHILUS, BIFIDUS, L. CASEI AND L. RHAMNOSUS.

Fish oil! Lots of fish oil! For those of you keeping track, this would make they yogurt decidedly non-vegetarian. At first I was just baffled. But then I got mad. Who puts fish oil in fruit yogurt? Especially yogurt that is usually catering to vegetarians concerned about something like gelatin. They should more clearly indicate on the label that the DHA their promoting comes from fish (there is vegetarian algae-derived sources of DHA), but then again, why would they? Would you pick up a blueberry yogurt that advertised it was now made with additional fish oil? Let me tell you: thinking about fish yogurt is the last thing you want to be doing when you're just getting over first trimester nausea.]]>