Cool Cat

Mishearing song lyrics is a common phenomenon. There's actually a word for a garbled lyric: mondegreen. And there are books about it, such as Gavin Edwards' When a Man Loves a Walnut--I'm actually a contributor (my name's in the credits and everything!). One example: I always thought Cat Stevens (that's him proudly showing off his denim-clad junk in the pic) was singing "Morning is broken," not "Morning has broken." That song was playing when I picked up my triple venti nonfat latte at Starbucks today, and it proved to be prophetic, so in the tradition of Weird Al, I composed new lyrics to the Stevens hit.

Morning is broken
My laptop won't start up
Got no cell signal
The router is dead
Clients are pissed
Deadlines will be missed
Screw all this bullshit
I'm back in bed.

Packers Fans are Cool

We're hosting a Packers victory party--I mean, a Super Bowl party--next Sunday, and we're ramping up for the excitement in the days leading up to the Big Game. Beverages will be served--Pabst, of course, and also a liquid creation we're calling the Lambeau Cooler. I can't reveal the contents, but I can tell you that it's a gold beverage, with green ice. Here's how we're making the ice:

 1. Regular old Chicago tap water, with green food coloring added

 2. Special orb-shaped ice cube tray (from the nice people at Maker's Mark; this is the present they sent me this year to thank me for drinking so much of their bourbon)

3. After hours of freezing, we run the frame under warm water, popped the orbs out, and voila!--cubes!

Hey Dere

There once was a young pup named Maddow
Who got scolded because she was bad-o
     She wanted to play
     But her mom said, "No! Stay"

Now Maddow is looking quite sad-o

I Fought the Slaw

I had a taste for cole slaw. I even had half a jar of Marzetti's slaw dressing, but--alas--no cabbage. However, I did have part of a head of bok choy leftover from a pot of soup I'd made yesterday. I chopped the bok choy up, tossed in some carrots, added dressing and voila!--choy slaw.

I know, it's not James Beard-level culinary genius, but I was pretty darned proud of myself.

Caption?

Considering how much Ella pretends to hate Maddow, she sure has spent a lot of time near her--on the bed, in the bathroom and, just this afternoon, sitting right above her on the couch. Something's going on, I suspect.

I need a bit of help: this photo of the two frenemies needs a caption. Leave yours in the comment section. The best one gets gold stars.

Poetry in Motion

A haiku about my cat:


Curled into a "C"
Ella Fitz sleeps all day long
I would like her gig.

Bearing Down

While I did a few tinkery things--cooked, danced with the dogs, etc.--today was a creative day off for me for the most part, because of the very important NFC championship game between the Bears and the Vikings. I'm a Packers fan, so I was needless to say a very happy girl by the early evening...unlike this girl.

From the Windooooooooows..to the Walls!

Today was kind of a wash--I worked out, went shopping, cooked some stuff, watched TV and napped, so I don't have much to show. HOWEVER...I do have some exciting news: Willie howls on command, so this afternoon I managed to make headway in upping the awesome factor in that particular trick. Namely, teaching Willie to howl along with me on the chorus of Lil' Jon's "Get Low" ("From the windoooooooooows...to the walls!"). This is not only crunk, but also adorable. Crunkdorable? Whatever--while I wasn't able to capture video evidence, I can tell you she has more talent than most people in hip-hop today, so this could turn into a lucrative recording contract.

You skerred, you skerred.

Actors are Like Cattle Dogs

I tried to make cute dog videos today, but the one thing I needed to do so--i.e. cooperation on the part of said canine-Americans--was severely lacking. If you were to take the blooper reel (if one existed) of the session and transcribe it, it would look like this:

JENNI: 

Willie, sit!

(WILLIE sits)

JENNI:

Stay! Good girl. Now, Wi--

(WILLIE slowly rises, scoots away)

JENNI: 

DAMNIT, STAY! No! Sit! 

WILLIE:

*whine*

(WILLIE sits)

JENNI:

Good girl, Willie! Who's a goo--Maddow, no!

(MADDOW enters frame)

JENNI:

Maddow, no! You're not in this scene! Back to your trailer!

MADDOW:

WOOF!

(MADDOW wags enthusiastically, licks camera)

Clearly, they need acting lessons. BTW, the pic is supposed to be a director. It just looks like a guy with an ass-gland problem to me, but oh, well.

Shakin' That Ass

You guys remember making mix tapes? If you're too young, you missed out on a lovely, delicate art. You'd get a 90-minute blank cassette and park your butt for hours in front of your boom box, taping songs in just the perfect order to make an hour and a half long masterpiece for a friend, boyfriend, crush, or other lucky pair of ears. The trick was ending the last song RIGHT ON TOP of the end of the 45-minute side--too soon and you'd end up with dead air; too late and the damned thing would cut out in the middle of a tune. DEATH.

Making an iTunes playlist recaptures some of that feeling--you don't have to drag out every CD or tape you own and pile it around you while you play jr-high deejay. Gaining ease, though, means you lose just a bit of the art. Anyway, it's still fun. This is the playlist (first draft) for my first deejay night at Dance Dance Party Party. Prepare to shake what your mamma gave you, ladies.

Sticky Fingers

Times are tough, so this Christmas involved a lot of handmade items--hats, scarves and the like. I also gave to my unappreciative family homemade hot chocolate mix. Three flavors, no less: chocolate peppermint, chocolate toffee and double-dark chocolate. The piece de resistance: homemade marshmallows. Last I heard from my ingrate kin, they hadn't even touched them. Sigh. They don't know what they're missing--the leftover marshmallows I kept for myself, and they were flat-out awesome. The stash was big, too--I just ran out, and had to whip up some more.

I cannot take credit for the recipe--it's all Alton Brown, and you can grab it here--but I do take credit for the hard work. Feel free to make some yourself and hand out to your impressed friends. You can also feel free to neglect to tell them  how danged easy the process is. If you do decide to delve into homemade marshmallows, a few things to remember:
* You should have a powerhouse stand mixer. Candy-ass cheapo mixers won't stand up to the formidable task of whipping the thick, gooey mixture for 15 minutes, and you'll end up burning out your motor. Get thyself a KitchenAid, or something similarly awesome.
* Before boiling the goop, clip your candy thermometer to the pan and get it to the right height--once the stuff is in the pan, you can't see diddly.
* Do not go beyond the suggested temperature, unless you want the mixture to be near-unworkable. The marshmallows will still be marshmallows, and look/taste perfectly normal, but you'll get a hell of a workout trying to scrape the marshmallow from the bowl, whisk attachment, and other sundry items.
* Before spreading the whipped-up mallowstuff in the pan, lightly spray your spatula with non-stick spray

That's all. Enjoy, kids.

Nailed It

I typically don't bother painting my fingernails--I ain't a fancy gal, and I hate how quickly they chip. I do paint my toenails, though. Go figure. Today, though, I decided to pay tribute to my beloved U S of A with my talons. God Bless America 'n stuff.

Hair Apparent

Boy, a busy, busy day. That doesn't mean I didn't have time to get a little bit of creativity in. I made some tortellini soup for lunch (vegan 'chicken' broth, beans, peas, carrots, garlic, cream and other stuff I forget). I danced with the dogs. The highlight of my creative day, though, is something I just came up with off the top of my head.

Guest Star: Amanda Palmer

Amanda Palmer is one of my personal heroes. There's no separating this all-balls woman from her art--both are bold, hilarious, jubilant, and impossible to ignore. She's an inspiration to live your life at the top of your voice and inspire others to celebrate their own personal awesomeness.

Her latest magnum opus is an ode to the wondrous unique beauty of girlparts. Never before have I seen so many shiny, sparky vajayjays--Jennifer Love Hewitt must be seething with jealousy.

Feeling Your Oats

Plain oatmeal is so damned boring--nutritious, yes, but the relative lack of flavor cries out for the addition of fixins. My personal favorites are brown sugar and cream, but today, I felt like trying something a little different, so I whipped up this for a hearty midwinter breakfast.

HOT COC'OATS
Serves 3 (or 2 very hungry people)
3.5 C milk 
2 T sugar
1/3 C cocoa powder
Pinch of salt
1 C steelcut oats
Marshmallows to garnish

Pour the milk into a medium-size saucepan; whisk in the sugar, cocoa and oats. Heat the whole shebang to boiling, stir in the oats, then reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer for 25-30 minutes. Pour in individual bowls, and top off with marshmallows. Eat while making happy "mmm" noises.

FYI: The marshmallow in the picture is a homemade one, crafted by yours truly. Don't be impressed--it's a crazy easy recipe I pilfered from Alton Brown--you can peep it here.
 

Fail/wail

Sadly, not all creative projects end in success. Today, I was inspired to make toilet paper origami--I'm especially good at making those clever little cranes that flap their wings when you pull their tails, but I can create other things, too. The Quilted Northern (only the best for my bum, y'know) squares just happen to be perfectly SQUARE, which makes them the perfect shape for making cute lil' paper creations like birds, boxes, boats, dogs, and whatever tickles your fancy.

Sadly, even the multi-ply toughness of our TP couldn't stand up to the rigors of Japanese paper folding. I tried making a crane, then moved onto a less-complex cootie catcher (that four-pronged doohickey you used to make in grade school with the numbers on the outside, colors on the inside, and that told you your future when you opened it up). Finally, I just went with the easiest possible thing and tried to make a paper solider hat--no dice.

No project picture today--who wants to look at wadded-up toilet tissue?--but I did want to share this lovely 3D sculpture interpretation of Twitter's infamous "fail whale" culled from the ever-brilliant Make. Enjoy.

My Heart Does Double Beats For You, Baby

Last night I had a stone-cold blast at Dance Dance Party Party Chicago. It's a room full of chicks dancing in the name of fun and fitness for an hour. No booze, no boys, no talking. It's AWESOME. I'll definitely be back, and the experience inspired me to spend some time at home working on some sweet dance moves of my own.

This morning, I took a break from freelance work for dancin' with my self (oh, oh, a-oh). I started with iTunes, but then I remembered a recent trip to a record store for 10-cent 45s and the treasure trove of grooves I'd acquired. Included in the stash is this gem from my childhood. I absolutely ADORED Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam with Full Force (what a mouthful) and her crazy-ass lace headbands--although my favorite LLaCJwFF tune is the tearjerking "All Cried Out," I'm also quite fond of this fired-up tune. Unfortunately, you can't dance too crazy when (1) you're spinning tunes on a turntable (skip city), and (2) when the bedroom of the downstairs neighbor is directly below your living room. However, I do highly recommend you put on some old-school tunes at your place and kick-dance like you're Molly Fucking Ringwald.

Motion Picture

Craft is a fantastic magazine if you're...well, crafty. Each page of the paper and pixel versions is loaded with fabulously fun ways to keep your idle hands and creative brain from getting into trouble. A recent entry inspired me to make my own thaumatrope, which is a device that takes two separate, static images and, through the magic of motion, combines them into one. This short video shows what I'm talking about:



The example that Craft shared featured a cunning little bird perched on a twig; you can get the instructions by clicking here. Instead of the innocent little bird, I decided upon something more cynical and sinister. If you're similarly inclined, click below and print to create your own "Glenn Beck's True Nature" thaumatrope makins.

Tug o' War

My two dogs are constantly tearing through toys--literally. The floor of our home is littered with the mercilessly disemboweled carcasses of stuffed bears, shreds pulled off of rope toys, deflated balls and other destroyed playthings. Spending money on such toys is an exercise in financial waste--might as well open my wallet and directly hand Maddow and Willie five-dollar bills. So, I either spend a buttload on heavyduty latex toys like Kongs...or I make them.

Weeding through old clothes, I encountered a pair of ratty jeans with a ginormous hole directly southwest of the crotch (as modeled by the lovely and talented Rebecca). While indecent exposure laws dictate that I no longer wear the trashed trousers in public, and such damaged dungarees couldn't be donated to charity, I'd feel weird throwing them in the garbage.

This is where the paths of creativity and thrift intersect in a happy, fun way. Rather than toss, I cut them up into sections, and tore them into strips (this is way more stress-busting and therapeutic than you'd think), so I ended up with a sizable pile of denim strips. I took those babies, tied them, knotted, braided them, and voila--a nice supply of tough denim toys for the Canine-Americans in my care to gnaw on.

Should keep them busy for a few minutes.

Dogpile!

Another found-object sculpture project today. From the top down:
* Large can of quick-cooking oats (Target brand)
* Giant fish-shaped pillow (pike)
* Laptop bag (Swiss Army brand)
* Fleece throw blanket (bowling pattern)
* Cotton blanket (blue)
* Towels (yellow, pink and white--not visible)
* Dorm pillow (Packers design)
* Maddow

I'd like to note that 15 minutes after this photo was taken, the entire sculpture is intact, including the dog at the base, who is now sleeping. Apparently she finds my art boring and derivative.

Ray of Sunshine

On a recent trip to the suburbs, I ventured into a Hobby Lobby. HL is where Christians buy the ingredients for ugly Jesussy crafts to thrust upon their brethren. I'm not crazy for Christ, but I am apeshit for cheap yarn, which HL happily has assloads of. While perusing the aisles of fish-shaped latchhook rugs and chocolate Bible molds, I found a true blessed treasure--Makit-Bakits! Praise the Lord!

If you're a child of the 1970s or 1980s, you remember this ready-made craft kit consists of a metal frame and a crapload of teeny weeny colored plastic nubs destined to be fall all over the floor and get eaten by the dog. You sprinkle the nubs into the frame, bake it, and you theoretically get a beautiful suncatcher (why the sun needs catching, I have no idea). Among the many problems: It's impossible to stay within the lines, so the nubs spill all over and makes it look spotty, so the end result looks like a herpescatcher.

Anyway, the lovely and talented and Rebecca and I decided to whip these babies out in between NFL wildcard games today for a bit of no-brain creativity. It was more work than fun. Getting the nubs in the right place involves a lot of patience, time and swearing. Rebecca took the time to get hers nearly perfect. I, on the other hand, after a few minutes of effort said "eff this" and  tossed the little mothers everywhere willy-nilly. We ended up with a TON of leftover nubs, which we threw into cookie cutters, for shits and/or giggles. All the MakitBakits got popped into the oven for their magical transformation.


Sadly, the melting didn't really happen--the nubs only slightly softened and turned into nubby blobs that refused to unite seamlessly into a pretty, glossy surface. The white especially resembled rice pudding. However, the freestyle MakitBakit thingies we did turned out nicely--we're going to turn them into magnets and display them proudly on our fridge, so not all is lost. Plus, I think Rebecca's Unicorn turned out lovely. She named it Miss Nurple. Hi, Miss Nurple.

Cater-piler

This is the lovely and talented Rebecca, whom I turned into a pile of caterpillars. I would have added more, but I feared the wrath of Amanda the Kohl's cashier, who's just out of frame. She looked like a force not to be fuckoned with.

Sock It To Me

I friggin' love puppets. If I see a display of them in a gift shop or a toy store, it is physically impossible to prevent me from goofing around with them, and close to impossible to drag me away. When I was a gradeschooler at Hanover Countryside Elementary, we frequently enjoyed visits from marionettes, and I was entranced. The Easter Bunny left an orange-sherbet-colored plush rabbit puppet in my basket one year; for months, Eddie Rabbit and I were inseparable. And now that I'm a grownup, this love is no less intense--I give way more dollar bills to the pint-size performers of Puppet Bike than I should, and on a recent visit to Macy's, I found a puppet and ended up walking throughout the store with it on my hand, weird looks from other shoppers be damned.

Today, I decided to dispatch with one of my mismatched socks and make a sock puppet. She (yes, it's a she--don't ask me why) has sparkly red hair, two beady black-yarn eyes, and a fuzzy purple shirt. She isn't Muppet quality, but she's pretty darned cute, I think.

She needs a name--what do you think? Leave your suggestions in the comments below.

Cooking Up a Storm

After yesterday's thwarted attempt at kitchen-based creativity, I reentered the cooking chamber for a baking take two--this time, brownies! These are s'mores brownies--I started from a Pillsbury recipe then enhanced with two kinds of marshmallows: vegan Dandies marshmallows from Chicago Soy Dairy, and the homemade marshmallows I whipped up pre-Christmas (family members got them as presents, along with homemade hot cocoa mix). I also crumbled up some of the Honey Maid graham crackers we had in the cabinet and tossed those puppies in the mix. Chocolate craving: calmed.

Better to Have Loafed and Lost...

Today I made (or attempted to make) a beautiful loaf of multigrain bread, with flaxmeal and pumpkin seeds and oats and all sorts of scrumptious fixins. I never follow recipes; although in this case a recipe did serve as a jumping-off point, I added and subtracted and made it my own in a fit of culinary creativity. My magnum opus rose in the oven into a gorgeous globe of gluteny goodness, after which I removed it to preheat the oven to its full baking temperature, then went to retrieve a load of laundry. I returned to find my countersurfing dog Maddow ate half of it. So much for the gorgeous picture, to say nothing of the tasty baked masterpiece I'd envisioned. I blame myself--I am fully aware that she's a gluttonous little scamp, so I should know better than to tempt her with unattended edibles--and not her. Anyway, here is an artist's interpretation of the events--this is as close as you're getting. My apologies.

Sleeping Dogs Lie

I drew this picture of Willie a moment ago, and I would have finished it and colored it in and made it all fancylike, except she picked that moment to turn around and face the other way, and I don't know feel like disturbing her, because she's so danged cute when she's asleep. I think, however, she would appreciate if I pointed out to you that she's not nearly as chunky as she appears in this sketch (whatever, Will).

Knit Wit

I love knitting--taking a big spaghetti-like snarl of yarn and turning it into wearable garments seems like magic. The trouble is, I hate patterns. I don't like following instructions, and what's more, I don't really understand the p1k2r2d2 etc etc alphabet soup that comprises a pattern--so I like to just stitch whatever stitches pop into my brain and see what happens. Recently I taught myself how to spell things with stitches--and this is my first project. Can you tell what it says? My mom would be so proud....

Prose and cons

Today, a poem:

Nothing satisfies like cheese
Give me gouda, if you please
Or if all your gouda's gone
I'll take a piece of parmesan
Munster's nice, I'm fond of cheddar,
(Mild is nice, but sharp is beddar)
I could go for brie or swiss
Feta brings me tons of bliss
Any kind of cheese will do
And if you have none, I'll be bleu

My thinking cap is on

Now that 2010 is dead and gone (good riddance, I say), I realize that a good chunk of my brain went unused. This isn't to say that I wasn't busy, because I was--there were workdays that I'd forget to eat; considering I'm a gal that likes my food, that's sort of a big deal. Rather, the creative portion of my noggin went idle for long, long stretches. This is bad for anyone--if all you're doing day to day is going through the motions, pushing pencils, and just kicking balls back into play, your soul will miss that stimulation, and your mental health will suffer. It's especially bad for me, because my inner five-year-old will start kicking and throwing tantrums if she doesn't get to do something fun and creative on a daily basis.

So, each day in 2011, I promise to do something that scratches that itch. Doesn't matter what, really--paint a picture, write a poem, make a new recipe--but something that lets me put my creative brain on a leash and take it for a walk.

Here's to a fulfilling, stimulating, and creative new year.