I fell off the ol’ Blog Wagon. It’s just been so chilly and cozy and full of things to do. I’ve decided that the best way to get back in the swing of things is to start with a solid week of Tubs. After all, the entire concept of a Tub encompasses all the chilly and cozy leanings that have been sabotaging my writerly productivity as of late. And so, here we go! The first of many:
(Via My Paradissi)
Plan of Attack: After systematically smelling that candle and each of those intruiging looking pump bottles, I would take that plant and throw it out of that super cool window, thus making room for a little plate of these gorgonzola and pistachio shortbread cookies and a glass of this wine. C
Here are the only pictures I managed to take of our Guy Fawkes Night. I really wanted to take more but I was swept away by friendship, gin cocktails and pork filled pastries. Clockwise, I present:
1. One of two effigies that met the fire that evening. I tried to make him look as much like Mr. Bill to offset HOW VERY CREEPY it is to burn effigies. The other effigy came via friend and neighbor Nic and had all it’s boy parts. We are nothing if not anatomically correct.
2. Bowler Hat Selfie. You may not realize that this is in fact a bowler hat because of how tiny it looks on my head, but it is, ok? If I haven’t mentioned it before, I have an exceptionally large head in order to contain all my face beauty and outstanding personality.
3. Aftermath. This doesn’t begin to show how much mud we all tracked into the house in our pork fueled merriment. That said, it was totally worth the hungover sweeping and mopping cycles that I completed the next morning.
(Ok, I lied. A few more photo stragglers are included below. If any friends have more pictures of the party would you send them on over?) C
If I had ever manifested evil superpowers I would suppose that my origin story would’ve gone something like this:
Conceived on Halloween upon a grand piano by Meatloaf and Marcia McClain while Jim Stienman looked on, french braiding his hair and chanting over dramatic renderings of Bruce Springsteen songs. They then leave me in a
basket empty bucket of fried chicken on my parents doorstep and proceed to all die in a fiery car/motorcycle/speedboat accident before they can grow old and start being embarrassing. (Oh! But before the crash they write I Would Do Anything For Love and somehow make that amazing video so I can still enjoy it in the mid nineties because that was very formative for me.)
My powers of showmanship and spotlight hogging began to show themselves early but it’s not until I get a perm at age 21 that I realize that I can tie a scarf on a mic stand one handed and that, upon hearing that wall of sound drum beat, my heart breaks open and a killing instinct sets in. In one harrowing incident, 10 men perished within the duration of the Ronettes “Be my Baby.”
But I digress! Links?
One day at work my dear friend Calvin remarked that there was suddenly a apple tree in the garden where we all agreed one had not been before. Although I’m willing to entertain the possibility that it had in fact always been there but was rendered incognito by it’s previously appleless exterior, another viable explanation for it’s sudden appearance is that it is probably magical or enchanted in some way.
So this probably magical fruit was just languishing on the branches while we all rushed around feeding leafers and all the keyed up children out of school for MEA weekend. But don’t worry! I pulled it together and rescued some in time to make Ginger Apple Chutney. See?
This was my first time using an apple peeler/corer and I was positively charmed by it. Andy’s Mom, Pamela, used to make Kitchen Witches so lovely and renowned that they prompted Martha Stewart to send her one which she was nice enough to loan me last week. I feel like a kitchen tool from Martha Stewart must itself hold a sort of otherworldly power, and so, as you can imagine, when combined with the enchanted apples things were getting PRETTY DAMN MYSTICAL up in here.
The base for the recipe I used was from Tigress in a Pickle with some tweaking. I followed her same steps but used the following ingredients and amounts:
- 1 C. Apple Cider Vinegar (I used Braggs…)
It turned out great and made a ton! It will soon be gracing some tiny pork pies at my upcoming Guy Fawkes Night and in the meantime I’ll be dipping cheese into it like a crazed pig. C
I’m fairly confident that part of being a professional writer is making sure your friends know that if they don’t do exactly as you say on the precise timeline you present them with you will just use private correspondence to accomplish your desired journalistic goal.
HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE TO BE SUBJECTED TO THIS MOVIE BEFORE I GET YOUR REVIEW MOLLY? And don’t use that adorable baby or your movie producing as an excuse. So now, without further ado, here is a transcript of a text message review of On The Road….
M: Have you watched On The Road, the worst movie ever made? I’m halfway through and there’s still an hour left.
C: I can’t even bring myself to reread Kerouac, let alone sit though a cinematic rendering performed by children. I think you should probably write a review for TH though.
M: They made Jack Kerouac’s character into a whiny, Carlos Castenada-esque dweeb of a man. And there are all sorts of additional modern threesome sex scenes. Also we get glimpses from a woman’s perspective. I know that was HUGE in the book.
C: Oh, yes. Those guys positively TREASURED a woman’s perspective.
M: All the male characters have a real Gen Y sensitivity. Except the perfectly cast Vigo Mortenson as W. Burroughs. So there you go.
C: Great Review.
M: I’ll see if I can type it up.
C: Please do. I’m seriously fascinated but will never, ever, watch that.
M: It is HORRIBLE.
C: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! No.
(Editors note: I was.) C
As the golden throated lady-killer Rod Stewart once said: Tonight’s The Night.
Come down to The Red Star and participate in (or mock from the sidelines) the BuZzed up Spelling Bee (Sign up from 8:30 till 9 and then we’ll commence with the spelling fun.)
As a special incentive to my readers, a special study guide can be unlocked if you read or have read every one of my blog posts and then comment below, finishing the following sentence in a way that is pleasing to my ego:
The thing that is so very great about Chelsy is that….
If for some reason the study guide doesn’t load it’s probably because you didn’t laugh hard enough at my jokes or perhaps your compliment wasn’t quite up to snuff. Feel free to try again or to pass this on to your friends so they can take a crack at it.
I’m excited for tonight! See you guys there! C