We currently do not own an iPod, but Rick Steves' museum podcasts, which are available (free!) for the Uffizi, were motivation to purchase one.
We had three options: the 4 GB Nano ($150), the 8 GB Nano ($200, but it comes in fun colors), and the Touch ($300), which has a better screen and games. The Shuffle wasn't ideal because it doesn't have a screen, so we wouldn't know which podcast to play next.
My first impulse was, naturally, to go for the bare minimum--if we survived this long without an iPod, surely we could make do with the 4 GB vanilla Nano. But my internal upselling instinct kicked in, and I realized that B might enjoy the games capability during his long train rides, and wouldn't it be convenient to download movies or TV shows to watch on the plane and on our long train trips in Italy?
I asked B if he would prefer the boring Nano or the blingy Touch, and he admitted that he was leaning toward the Touch. But then he pointed out that we could get the full capabilities of the Touch for cheaper by buying the new iPhone.
I was skeptical about using a single device for so many capabilities--cell phone, email checker, music and movie player, and games central? Would life be too easy if we could do so much in one small, sleek device?
B explained that the all-in-one concept was exactly what Apple was going for when they designed the iPhone, and that a Touch would be redundant (not to mention pricier).
Conveniently enough, I'm planning to switch from my parents' cell phone plan in just a couple weeks, so I'm going to have to buy a new phone anyway. But the idea of having an iPhone--a device with capabilities that go far beyond what I want and need--was daunting. My cell phone is more of a security blanket than a device because I use it so rarely--the occasional phone call (usually incoming) and text message to B when he's on the road.
B was a much more obvious candidate for the iPhone. He's hip and technology-oriented and uses his phone for internet surfing, amateur photography, games, email, text messages, and even a phone call here and there.
We visited our local AT&T store to inquire about my taking B's phone (a Blackberry Pearl--rest assured, I am not important enough to require 24/7 access to my email, so I will not be using the data capabilities) and B's using the new iPhone. No problem, said the guy, all you have to do is switch the sim cards.
Great, we said, and handed over our debit card. The iPhone was sold out and had to be ordered but should arrive in the next week or so, and then B's status as a Hip Person will be official, and I can continue my techno-averse lifestyle for a little while longer.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
Don't break the milk!
This weekend I made red velvet cupcakes to take to a wine and dessert party.
Red velvet, according to the cookbook for the Buttercup Bake Shop (an offshoot of the famous Magnolia Bakery in Greenwich Village), is "a yellow cake with a hint of cocoa, dyed a deep beautiful red." If you've seen Steel Magnolias, the armadillo cake is red velvet. We freely adopt Southern traditions, such as B's growing seersucker collection, so it was just a matter of time before we tried red velvet cake. We considered serving red velvet cupcakes at our wedding but were worried that people would be scared of them.
Being scared would be understandable. The cake batter was the color of a male cardinal (the bird, not a church official). Eating a red cake is a little strange, but come on, it's cake--how bad can it be? Plus red is significantly less weird than, say, a blue velvet or green velvet cake might be.
Making the cake batter was easy (as is any recipe that lets me use my KitchenAid mixer), but the frosting presented a challenge. Here are the instructions:
"In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, whisk to combine the milk and flour. Stir constantly over medium-high head until smoother and thick (anywhere from 12 to 18 minutes)."
I had a few issues with this command.
Anyone who has ever cooked milk on medium-high heat has probably also burned milk because it's nearly impossible to heat milk to that temperature without scalding it. And when your milk gets to that temperature, you run the risk of "breaking" it--we learned about this phenomenon in a French cooking class when we were trying to make a souffle with light whipping cream. Apparently, unless you're working with heavy whipping cream, you run the risk of breaking your light whipping cream or milk when you boil it, and it turns into a clumpy, oatmeal-like mess. I don't know what the chemistry explanation is, but maybe curds and whey are involved? Anyway, the lesson I learned was that boiling milk is a dangerous idea, and stirring does not always prevent burning.
I was determined to follow the recipe but with a minor modification. Stirring was not going to save my pan from burned milk, so whisking was the only option. And whisk, I did--for 12 minutes straight--ouch. My right arm looked like Popeye's when I finished (ok, it totally didn't, though it felt like it might fall off--does that count for something?), but I didn't burn the milk, and the frosting and cupcakes turned out great.
Red velvet, according to the cookbook for the Buttercup Bake Shop (an offshoot of the famous Magnolia Bakery in Greenwich Village), is "a yellow cake with a hint of cocoa, dyed a deep beautiful red." If you've seen Steel Magnolias, the armadillo cake is red velvet. We freely adopt Southern traditions, such as B's growing seersucker collection, so it was just a matter of time before we tried red velvet cake. We considered serving red velvet cupcakes at our wedding but were worried that people would be scared of them.
Being scared would be understandable. The cake batter was the color of a male cardinal (the bird, not a church official). Eating a red cake is a little strange, but come on, it's cake--how bad can it be? Plus red is significantly less weird than, say, a blue velvet or green velvet cake might be.
Making the cake batter was easy (as is any recipe that lets me use my KitchenAid mixer), but the frosting presented a challenge. Here are the instructions:
"In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, whisk to combine the milk and flour. Stir constantly over medium-high head until smoother and thick (anywhere from 12 to 18 minutes)."
I had a few issues with this command.
Anyone who has ever cooked milk on medium-high heat has probably also burned milk because it's nearly impossible to heat milk to that temperature without scalding it. And when your milk gets to that temperature, you run the risk of "breaking" it--we learned about this phenomenon in a French cooking class when we were trying to make a souffle with light whipping cream. Apparently, unless you're working with heavy whipping cream, you run the risk of breaking your light whipping cream or milk when you boil it, and it turns into a clumpy, oatmeal-like mess. I don't know what the chemistry explanation is, but maybe curds and whey are involved? Anyway, the lesson I learned was that boiling milk is a dangerous idea, and stirring does not always prevent burning.
I was determined to follow the recipe but with a minor modification. Stirring was not going to save my pan from burned milk, so whisking was the only option. And whisk, I did--for 12 minutes straight--ouch. My right arm looked like Popeye's when I finished (ok, it totally didn't, though it felt like it might fall off--does that count for something?), but I didn't burn the milk, and the frosting and cupcakes turned out great.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Finding the right flatware
You know you're an adult when you throw a dinner party, and all of your flatware matches (and is nice). B and I have thrown a few dinner parties, but adulthood continues to elude us, as our flatware is a Frankenstein collection of his, mine, and ours, and we don't have more than 6 sets of any kind.
I lost some flatware (and all of the lids to my pots) because I moved so much after college, and living with a roommate who hoarded my dishes, glasses, and flatware in her room contributed to the attrition rate. Throughout my nearly two-year stint with her, our flatware tray was frequently out of forks, spoons, and knives. The situation got so bad that we had to buy forks to keep in my room so we'd be able to eat our dinner. We'll never run out of forks again, that's for sure, because now we have about 20.
If you're wondering why I continued to live with the roommate for two years--well, heat was included, the rent was cheap, I had a parking space, and if you could look past the arrests that took place next door, the location was excellent. But I digress--back to flatware.
We've been looking to replace our Frankenstein flatware with a set with the right chromium and nickel percentages (18/10, s'il vous plait) but haven't had any success. There was the Laguiole set that we liked, but it couldn't go in the dishwasher (unacceptable). The search continued for fun and unique but not too flourishy flatware--and I think I found it.
The set is by Vera Wang and is called Equestrian. It is unique and fun (I love the little belt buckles on each piece) and is a little edgy (see the angles at the bottom of the pieces). And the stitching would complement the edging on our china nicely.
I haven't purchased any--we should probably find the set in a store and make sure that we like the weight and the way that each piece feels in our hands--but I'm thrilled that I've finally found a set that we both like (B gave his approval) and that fits all of our requirements.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Vacation election 2009: South Carolina and Ohio?
For those of you who identified Ohio as the dark horse in the 2009 vacation election, you were correct. B has been planning a road trip that involves stopping at Cedar Point and the neighboring coaster parks (I think there are 2-3 in the area) with a possible stop at a coaster park in PA (Pittsburgh maybe?). If a week of screaming our heads off isn't enough fun, we can stop at the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame for a sock hoppin' good time and maybe schedule a detour to Toronto or Niagara Falls.
B's trip sounded coasterific, and I thought that it could be balanced well with something a little more sedate, white gloves optional (no, we're not joining the Junior League). One of my coworkers recently came back from a visit to the new Hard Rock coaster park in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, and he raved about it. I knew that B wanted to visit a coaster park, so I planned a trip around the Hard Rock park.
We could begin in Myrtle Beach and visit the park and other MB attractions (a new shopping area is getting rave reviews) and maybe take a beach or pool day. Next we'd drive to Charleston and take in some history--plantation tours, Fort Sumter, the old town, and all of the fabulous Southern cooking these two Yanks can eat. Our final stop would be Hilton Head for some golf (for B), spa fun (me), and relaxation.
We're not going to make any decisions until we get back from Italy, so we have several months to think about these itineraries and any others that pop into our heads. We don't know where we'll end up next year, but with the euro crossing $1.60 today, I think it's safe to say that we won't find ourselves back in Europe any time soon...
B's trip sounded coasterific, and I thought that it could be balanced well with something a little more sedate, white gloves optional (no, we're not joining the Junior League). One of my coworkers recently came back from a visit to the new Hard Rock coaster park in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, and he raved about it. I knew that B wanted to visit a coaster park, so I planned a trip around the Hard Rock park.
We could begin in Myrtle Beach and visit the park and other MB attractions (a new shopping area is getting rave reviews) and maybe take a beach or pool day. Next we'd drive to Charleston and take in some history--plantation tours, Fort Sumter, the old town, and all of the fabulous Southern cooking these two Yanks can eat. Our final stop would be Hilton Head for some golf (for B), spa fun (me), and relaxation.
We're not going to make any decisions until we get back from Italy, so we have several months to think about these itineraries and any others that pop into our heads. We don't know where we'll end up next year, but with the euro crossing $1.60 today, I think it's safe to say that we won't find ourselves back in Europe any time soon...
Monday, July 14, 2008
If it falls off, you can keep going...
During our mid-teen years, CDL and I had a few automobile adventures. We liked to think of ourselves as co-drivers--one person controlled the steering and speed, and the other person assisted with lane changes, merges, road position, and obstacles. In hindsight, we probably should have lit up some kind of bat signal to alert other drivers to our presence on the road.
One of my fondest memories is the advice that we used to receive from C's mother, especially car and driving advice. The prized gem that we quote to this day came when C's car was experiencing some technical difficulties, and the mechanic warned that one particular piece of the car (we never found out which one) was in danger of coming loose but was apparently not critical to the operation of the vehicle, as long as it became fully unattached. The advice was this: "If something falls off the car, you can keep going, but if it starts dragging on the ground, you have to turn around and come back home."
Luckily for everyone, our adventure that day and subsequent days never involved lost car parts (unless perhaps the co-driver was not doing her job and didn't notice or hear the fallen part), but I frequently see such disasters occurring on my commute.
Take this afternoon, for instance. I saw a large piece of metal about a thousand feet ahead and immediately hit my brakes to alert drivers behind me to slow down. The piece of metal turned out to be the largest silver bumper I have ever seen--if it didn't fall off a tractor trailer, it must have fallen off one of those giant pickup trucks that could swallow my Corolla whole. And it was sitting in the middle of the highway, with no pulled-over vehicle in sight.
Is it possible, I thought, that the driver of this vehicle knew about our childhood rule--and actually followed it? I wondered if maybe the bumper had been dragging on the ground for a while--it looked damaged--and the person was trying to make their way home when it fell off, and then they decided that it was safe to carry on their merry way, bumper- and care-free. I can see how the reasoning would work: "Well, I attempted to turn around and make my way home, but it fell off, so I can keep going and pick up those trouser socks I need from TJ Maxx."
A police officer was right behind me as I passed the bumper, so I suspect that he removed the hazard. What do you do with a giant bumper? Planter? Wall art? Coffee table? Perhaps there is something to be said for collecting your automo-debris.
One of my fondest memories is the advice that we used to receive from C's mother, especially car and driving advice. The prized gem that we quote to this day came when C's car was experiencing some technical difficulties, and the mechanic warned that one particular piece of the car (we never found out which one) was in danger of coming loose but was apparently not critical to the operation of the vehicle, as long as it became fully unattached. The advice was this: "If something falls off the car, you can keep going, but if it starts dragging on the ground, you have to turn around and come back home."
Luckily for everyone, our adventure that day and subsequent days never involved lost car parts (unless perhaps the co-driver was not doing her job and didn't notice or hear the fallen part), but I frequently see such disasters occurring on my commute.
Take this afternoon, for instance. I saw a large piece of metal about a thousand feet ahead and immediately hit my brakes to alert drivers behind me to slow down. The piece of metal turned out to be the largest silver bumper I have ever seen--if it didn't fall off a tractor trailer, it must have fallen off one of those giant pickup trucks that could swallow my Corolla whole. And it was sitting in the middle of the highway, with no pulled-over vehicle in sight.
Is it possible, I thought, that the driver of this vehicle knew about our childhood rule--and actually followed it? I wondered if maybe the bumper had been dragging on the ground for a while--it looked damaged--and the person was trying to make their way home when it fell off, and then they decided that it was safe to carry on their merry way, bumper- and care-free. I can see how the reasoning would work: "Well, I attempted to turn around and make my way home, but it fell off, so I can keep going and pick up those trouser socks I need from TJ Maxx."
A police officer was right behind me as I passed the bumper, so I suspect that he removed the hazard. What do you do with a giant bumper? Planter? Wall art? Coffee table? Perhaps there is something to be said for collecting your automo-debris.
Friday, July 11, 2008
You can get here from there
Here are the most entertaining search words that led people to the fabulousness of AOBTD, with links to the pages that they found. I apologize to all of the searchers because the results were, for the most part, either not related or not useful, but their searches are pretty funny.
short films about gang violence
And now we know that there is a market for such things.
upscale hangers for closets
Yes! Upgrade your hangers! I bought another box and am hooked. My entire house is going to be hanging from wooden hangers before long.
Farewell to Pleasure Island
Clearly, I am not the only one who is sad about the closing.
chi-poos sniff a lot
Say what? This is why we can't get a dog--who could handle excessive sniffing in a pet?
cookies for dinner
Rock on! This fabulous search showed up twice. I applaud people who think outside the meat-starch-veggie paradigm.
putting credit card number in e-mail
Don't do it, girl! Just pick up the darned phone.
how to kill any tree like plant
Just bring it to my house. It will be dead within days.
life alot can happen in 6 months
You can say that again, sister. But what a ride it is.
is 8x10 bedroom big enough
If you go on a cruise or happen to find yourself in prison, your accommodations will feel spacious.
post wedding irritability
It happens. Embrace it. Show him what he has to look forward to for the next 50 years.
Teutonic clothing
Dirndls and lederhosen?
girls with glases
The most embarassing part about this search is that the same typo appeared in the original post. I fixed it. I hope there aren't complaints about authenticity.
short films about gang violence
And now we know that there is a market for such things.
upscale hangers for closets
Yes! Upgrade your hangers! I bought another box and am hooked. My entire house is going to be hanging from wooden hangers before long.
Farewell to Pleasure Island
Clearly, I am not the only one who is sad about the closing.
chi-poos sniff a lot
Say what? This is why we can't get a dog--who could handle excessive sniffing in a pet?
cookies for dinner
Rock on! This fabulous search showed up twice. I applaud people who think outside the meat-starch-veggie paradigm.
putting credit card number in e-mail
Don't do it, girl! Just pick up the darned phone.
how to kill any tree like plant
Just bring it to my house. It will be dead within days.
life alot can happen in 6 months
You can say that again, sister. But what a ride it is.
is 8x10 bedroom big enough
If you go on a cruise or happen to find yourself in prison, your accommodations will feel spacious.
post wedding irritability
It happens. Embrace it. Show him what he has to look forward to for the next 50 years.
Teutonic clothing
Dirndls and lederhosen?
girls with glases
The most embarassing part about this search is that the same typo appeared in the original post. I fixed it. I hope there aren't complaints about authenticity.
Too much awesomeness at Anthropologie
This IM convo proves how serious my shopping addiction is. I can't help it--have you seen Anthropologie's clothing? The epitome of awesome.
M: there is so much awesomeness on sale at anthropologie
M: I am exercising such restraint right now
B: hahah
B: you and the anthro
M: I know
B: so so bad
M: I have a serious problem
M: but their clothes are so pretty
M: I just want to own them all
M: sometimes I wonder, what if I had more money than I knew what to do with...would I still wait for clothes to go on sale, or would I buy them at full price?
M: b/c sometimes clothes sell out before they go on sale
M: but then sometimes they do make it to the sale rack, and they're usually half price
M: such a good mental dilemma
B: uhoh ... gotta have it!
B: have two clothes for the price of one
B: at the risk of not getting one
B: or get one now and not get the other
M: or spend $2,000/month on non-sale items
B: bad bad
M: it's scary, but I could easily spend $24,000+ plus on clothing each year
M: maybe not every year
M: maybe eventually I would build a wardrobe that was so awesome that I didn't need anything else
B: hah.. would it ever be enough
M: I don't know!
M: eventually I would run out of space though
M: our closet isn't that big
M: although if I had $24,000 to spend each year on clothing, we'd probably live in a bigger house
B: hah!
M: there is so much awesomeness on sale at anthropologie
M: I am exercising such restraint right now
B: hahah
B: you and the anthro
M: I know
B: so so bad
M: I have a serious problem
M: but their clothes are so pretty
M: I just want to own them all
M: sometimes I wonder, what if I had more money than I knew what to do with...would I still wait for clothes to go on sale, or would I buy them at full price?
M: b/c sometimes clothes sell out before they go on sale
M: but then sometimes they do make it to the sale rack, and they're usually half price
M: such a good mental dilemma
B: uhoh ... gotta have it!
B: have two clothes for the price of one
B: at the risk of not getting one
B: or get one now and not get the other
M: or spend $2,000/month on non-sale items
B: bad bad
M: it's scary, but I could easily spend $24,000+ plus on clothing each year
M: maybe not every year
M: maybe eventually I would build a wardrobe that was so awesome that I didn't need anything else
B: hah.. would it ever be enough
M: I don't know!
M: eventually I would run out of space though
M: our closet isn't that big
M: although if I had $24,000 to spend each year on clothing, we'd probably live in a bigger house
B: hah!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)