Fried Dough #2: "Faux-nuts"

Okay, I'll admit - I've been trying to figure out a good name for these all week. "Fauxnuts" seemed the most descriptive, so we're going with that.*

OH - Before we get all fauxnutty, a few comments from last week's Beignets post:

• I've discovered that there are those who feel that beignets should always be made using a raised yeast dough. (Though the Cajun cookbook that gave us last week's recipe - and at least one online recipe from Emeril Lagasse - both used baking powder.) So we'll be revisiting this later in the month (after I replenish our yeast supply, since the jar we had expired in 2010).
• I obviously didn't use enough powdered sugar. 

One thing that wasn't discussed at all was whether or not altitude might have played a factor in how much they puffed up here, as opposed to in Idaho. (So if anyone has info on that, please still let us know.)

Now on to today's much easier fried pastry: the fried donut-shaped canned biscuit Fauxnut.

Yep. You read that right. We're frying canned biscuit dough for a quick donut fix this week.

Somewhere back in the deep recesses of my brain, I remembered doing this when I was a kid - though I'm fairly certain my mom wouldn't have let us make them, so I'm not sure where/when it happened.

The hardest part of this recipe is probably the choosing of your canned biscuit flavor. I mean... Pillsbury, alone, has 9 different varieties of refrigerated (canned) biscuits. And there are a ton of other brands on the market. You can even go gluten free if you want. I opted for "Original," just because it seemed like it would probably have a nice, middle-of-the-road flavor (and I wasn't sure how the other flavors would be as donuts/fauxnuts).

Standard "here are all the ingredients" shot.

Seriously. Is there anything better than popping open a tube of refrigerated dough - whether biscuits or some other food? It's like culinary Pop Goes the Weasel!

With all of the ingredients (okay, except for toppings - we'll discuss those later) taken care of, it was on to shaping them.

Even though these were "Grands" (aka "bigger"), they were a little small when we took our smallest round cutter to them. (We don't actually have a donut cutter, because... well... I can't honestly remember the last time we've needed one.)

Nope. I didn't add flour to the cutting board. Didn't need to.

As I went along, I flattened out some of the disks, so that the hole-to-ring ratio seemed a little less skewed. 

On the far left, you see the first one I cut, without flattening out the disk.

Next step: Into our familiar pan of oil, which had waited all week on the stove for us.

Okay. A bit of a confession: Between the beignets and the fauxnuts, we'd used the oil one other time - which I'm planning to tell you about, but since I promised the donuts would be here this weekend I'll have to explain the "dirty" oil later on.

Frying these up - once again without using a thermometer - took almost no time. They required a quick flip about halfway through so that they would be nicely browned on both sides. (This also helps to make sure that the interior is cooked through.)

I did have a bit of a debate with myself about whether flattening them was such a smart idea (although it did help with the hole punching). If you look at the picture, below, you'll see that the ones on the left are pretty flat, while the one on the "upper right" is more... well... donut shaped. 

At this point, I was letting them dry for a moment on paper towel before deciding on what to use for a coating. Don't worry, you'll see the results, below.

 Of course, you can't make fauxnuts without also frying up the fauxnut holes.

Wow, the oil looks really gross in this picture.

Ohmigod. Don't you just want to reach in and grab one and pop it in your mouth? (And then go to the emergency room because you just put your fingers into 350-degree oil and then put that same oil into your mouth... So - no - don't do that. use a good slotted spatula or a kitchen spider.)

There was some debate as we went along regarding what toppings should be on the fauxnuts and the fauxnut holes. We're fairly traditional around here, so we tossed the first of the fauxnuts in sugar. With the fauxnut holes, we put together some cinnamon sugar and tossed them around in a covered bowl.

Now these you could reach in, grab, and pop in your mouth!

And, because I was thinking of you, I actually plated them all before devouring them.

This was almost foiled by Christopher, who was having to endure the smell of fried goodness from the other room. Luckily, because these only took me about 10 minutes from start to finish - basically I turned on the oil to heat, and by the time it was ready I had already shaped the fauxnuts, after which it went even faster - by the time he was ready to raid the kitchen, I was already walking out to the living room with the goods.

If you look closely, you'll notice that the two fauxnuts on the right have been glazed. How did I do that so quickly? I put about a quarter cup of ready-made frosting (yes, Pillsbury - in a tub - it was leftover in the fridge) into a small pan on the stove and melted it down. Once the fauxnuts had cooled a bit, I drizzled it over.

Are these fauxnuts the best breakfast pastry in the world? Umm... no. There's something innately "biscuit-y" about biscuit dough that even frying it and coating it in sugar can't hide.

But, if you're in a hurry and want a donut fix without all the fuss and mess - and you have a pan with about an inch of oil in it - they're definitely a good substitute, which you can keep in the fridge as a backup.

(And, if you really like them, you could start a group called Fauxnuts fo-ever!)

-----

Tune in next week when we explain how the oil got so dirty - and, later this month, don't forget that we'll be talking beignets one more time!



*Who knew that there were already a baker's dozen (multiple bakers' baker's dozens, in fact) items referred to as "fauxnuts" on line? Because they seem to be made with everything from apples to puff pastry sheets - and a whole lot of options in between - I'm choosing to keep the name and simply add this to the list in the same way that a million different recipes all share the name "cookie."

Choose Your Own Adventure... Or Don't

What would you do if you found yourself at the airport on a Wednesday afternoon with your passport, your credit card, and no desire to go back to work?

Would you book a flight and disappear?

Would you go to your Global Entry interview appointment, then leave and go back home?

Or would you find some other option?

It's probably obvious since I'm blogging tonight that I didn't fly off into the sunset, but I really did consider it for a little while.

I left work early today to go to the airport to finish the process of getting my Global Entry information set up, so that it will - hopefully - be faster to go through Customs and Border Patrol when I travel in the future. (Because this year I plan to get farther out of the Cities that my parents' house in South Dakota.)

This means that, after four hours of slogging through the manuscript I'm working on, I found myself standing in the airport with all of my documents. I was standing next to the Arrivals and Departures boards and thinking "Where could I go...?"

But then I turned around and headed back to my car to run a couple of errands, grab lunch, and head home.

Then, in a really great turn of events, Christopher and I spent some time tonight looking into our next trip - for which I'll use my passport, my credit card, AND my new Global Entry info.

Choosing my next adventure... made even more exciting because it will be our next adventure.

Sometimes It's Real

Have you seen the McDonald's ads on TV where they talk about people being able to pay for their food and drinks with a "different kind of currency"? Well, during the Super Bowl, yesterday, they revealed that they were going to be asking people to pay "with love." (You know, it's the whole "I'm lovin' it" thing taken to the next level.)

If you missed out on it, here's the commercial (it's only a minute long, though the video is two minutes, so feel free to just stop it when it starts to replay).

So, anyway...

I always see this kind of offers and wonder who gets to take advantage of them. They tend to seem staged and I figure that they only really do this kind of thing in major markets or whatever.

But today a friend of mine posted on social media that she paid for a coffee with a happy dance.

Yes, the offer is random and there's a very good chance that I won't hear of this happening for anyone else between now and when the promotion ends on Valentine's day, but it makes me happy, nonetheless. And gives me one more reason to stop at McDonald's sometimes soon.*

Mainly, though, I'm just excited to know that it turned out to be a real thing - I may have even done a tiny bit of a chair-happy-dance in celebration of the occasion.

*And of course after the 14th... well... then it will be Shamrock Shake season. So I'm thinking someone over there is being pretty darned smart. 

January Thaw

In Minneapolis, we are currently experiencing a bliss-inducing January thaw. Yesterday and today it has been above 32 degrees, and it looks like it might continue for the next few days before going back down to the normal highs in the low 20s.

Granted, you don't get freezer burn on your fingers when it's in the 20s above zero. You get them when it's 20 below zero. So what we were dealing with a week or so ago was not normal. Or, rather, it was kind of normal, but not average. or something.

Of course, with the warmer weather system we're getting clouds - not sun. And my sinuses are acting up because of the change in the weather. And you can't help but track sludge every time you go inside anywhere.

But it's a thaw. I got to wear my third-warmest jacket when I ran errands this morning. I've taken the dog out for walks without putting her coat on. Our sidewalks are mostly clear, again.

Yeah... Weather in Minnesota is weird.

Serious Comedy in Musical Theater

Christopher and I went to see "The Book of Mormon" tonight, and although I kind of knew what to expect, I didn't quite know what to expect. 

You see, you hear everyone talking about how funny it is. How the show is so irreverent. How you laugh all the way through it. How the guys are all kind of geeky/nerdy hot. 

But you never hear about how amazing some of the songs are. Or how touching some of the scenes are. 

I had heard the discussions about whether or not is was kind of sacrilegious (it is), but how it is also kind of honest about Mormonism (it is). 

But no one ever mentioned how much it's simply about faith and beliefs. And - in some weird ways - good triumphing over evil. 

Yes, I laughed a lot. Yes, I was grossed out by some of the "South Park-style" humor. But I was also surprisingly moved by some of the rest of it. 

And that was good. Because I think that if there are some people who go to it only looking for a laugh and leave there having felt something a little deeper, that's a good thing. 

And - at the heart of it - I think that's what musical theater is kind of supposed to do most of the time. Not all the time. But sometimes. 

(Oh, and - yes - some of the guys really are kind of geeky/nerdy hot, too.)

Sometimes It's Just Time

Christopher and I just got back from a wedding. It was a great wedding - the ceremony itself was both serious and funny - and the drinks were good and the dinner was nice and we had a really great time meeting people.

The guys who got married celebrated their 14th anniversary, yesterday, so they are starting year 15 as husbands. And that is kind of amazing.

But... anyway... that's not the type of timing I meant to talk about.

You see, after the ceremony and the drinks (which were had while the wedding party were out doing photos, so you know that the allotted half hour stretched for a while), and after the dinner and the toasts and the cake (because... really... weddings are all about the cake, right?), the DJ started up the music.

We actually danced during the first "all-skate" dance, since they asked if everyone who had come as a couple would come to the dance floor. And it was really nice.

And then the thumping bass beat kicked in and the DJ was starting to get everyone on the dance floor, with the caveat that they would be there all night, and no one would be leaving early.

About two songs after that, we started saying our good-byes and heading for the door. It was an incredibly fun evening and it was so great to see them get married and meet all the new people, but we were also finding that we were tired and ready to go.

But don't worry - we didn't leave early. We simply left when it was time for us to leave.

There Are Moments

There are moments when you stare at your work and think "Why am I doing this?" And, some weeks there are a lot of those. And, unfortunately, some months there are a lot of those weeks, as well.

And I wish I had something to add to that to turn it all around and say that things are amazing and I love my job and blah blah blah. But I don't. At least not today.

On the other hand, though, there are those moments when you see your friends doing something and, instead of getting hit with a jealous moment of "Why does my life suck so much when his is so grand?" you sit back and think "Holy crap. That's amazing. She's amazing. I'm so freakin' lucky to know her."

I'm very happy to say that I kind of try to cultivate those moments (the latter, not the former). I try to focus on the moments when something is going really well for my friends and point them out to myself and think "Life is good. Just look at that. That's proof that life does not suck."

I feel that way when I go to weddings. And I usually cry, as a result of the amount of "How cool is that?" that I feel.

And I try really hard to feel that way when I hear of people getting new jobs - even if there may be a part of me that is a little jealous (and frustrated because I haven't won the lottery, yet).

As someone who has spent a decent amount of his life in and around the Arts, though, I find myself really excited when someone does something artistic. I may not understand why or how it was done. I may not fully grasp the artistic expression I feel like I'm supposed to be seeing. But there is something oddly tactile about seeing something artistic come to fruition.

This is true of reading something a friend has written, or looking at a painting or photograph someone has created. And - I think because it envelopes so many senses - it's especially true when I watch a performance. Whether the person I know was backstage, or on stage, there is a rush of pride in knowing that I know that person.

I don't get that rush when I see most "famous" people perform live. I'm not, typically, the groupie type for people I don't know (okay... John Barrowman book signing notwithstanding). But for people I do know, I can be a serious contender for Number Four Groupie. (I'd say "Number One Groupie", but unless Christopher is the one doing whatever it is, I'm probably not the first person on the list - I'm way too midwestern for that.)

So, when the moments come along when I get to see someone and point to him and say "I met him a few times, he's a friend of my friend - although he'd have no idea who I am" (as in the case of Andy Karl who is currently starring on Broadway in the musical adaptation of Rocky - yes, that Rocky), that kind of thing makes me happy.

When I can post on Facebook that people should really go see a local production of a show no one has ever heard of because someone I know - who also knows me - is involved, that makes me even happier. Or when, last summer for instance, I got to watch one of my best friends sing in a concert half a world away thanks to the miracles of the Internet - that's decidedly tear-worthy, even if it happens in the middle of the day at work.

And then there are moments like the one I had yesterday. When a friend of mine - who also knows me - showed up on Good Morning America to sing as part of the cast of the new Broadway revival of Les Miserables... and I got to watch that from halfway across the country and know that it was a good thing... those are good moments. (Oh... When you watch the Les Mis video - which you really should do - my friend is the brunette in the grey jacket and brown skirt who shows up behind the guy in the blue jacket when the whole cast rushes the stage at about 1m37s, and she's in the front row on the left of the screen toward the end of it - the sound quality isn't great on this, but it's the only version of it I could find that I could easily link to.)

Moments like that almost make the moments when I'm staring at my work and wondering what the heck I'm doing worthwhile. Or at least they make me start thinking more about what I need to work at to make my work feel more worthwhile. So that maybe, someday, I'll have my own Groupie Number 4.

Childhood Flashback

For a day when we haven't left the house, this has been a really busy day. In no particular order: We cleaned the house. We got a new stove delivered (but not hooked up - long story). We watched part of an Indiana Jones movie. We had lunch. We started doing laundry. We cleared some of the snow/ice off the sidewalks ("some" is as good as we could do at this point).

After we had the new stove in the house, and we were both inside and doing more cleaning/tidying/laundering, Christopher turned on the stereo and so we've been doing our work with a musical accompaniment. We've been chatting and scratching the pup and looking outside at the brilliant sun on the snow, and, somewhere along the way, I realized how much this feels like a weekend day when I was growing up.

Okay, so my parents had a drug store, and my dad was out of the house on Saturdays when most of the housecleaning was getting done. And most of the hanging out at home with the whole family was done on Sundays. But the combined effect is the same.

I think this is possibly enhanced by the fact that we're awaiting the arrival of a family friend (making her way carefully up the apparently-unfriendly roads), and tomorrow my folks will be making their way up here, as well (hopefully on less-unfriendly roads once the road chemicals have had some extra time to work).

At any rate, the feeling is there. The rare "this feels right" kind of feeling that is so hard to grasp. You'll forgive me if I wrap this up and enjoy it before it flits away.

Unexpected Event

To some people, merely speaking in an elevator is an unexpected event.

When I walk out to the parking garage with people from my office, though, elevator conversation is just part of the trip.

Of course, when we're in the elevator with other people, sometimes that makes the other people wonder what's going on.

Recently, we had walked into the elevator and there were a bunch of other people in there already. There was a new sign on the wall next to the door which said "Due to an Unexpected Event the 3rd Avenue Elevator will be closed temporarily."

One of the guys in the elevator - not one of my co-workers - said "Makes you wonder what kind of unexpected event happened, doesn't it?"

I replied, "Yeah, like was it a surprise party that got out of hand?"

And the other guy actually laughed.

I kinda love unexpected events like that.

Sesame Sherlock

Some days, you just need to sit back and enjoy what comes at you.

In the midst of finding out about weird jaw infections and trying nasal steroids (which gave me a headache) and dealing with annoyingly cold weather, I stumbled across this, today.

And it made me happy, so I'm sharing it with you.

Enjoy.

New TV Dinner - Southern at Heart

Christopher and I tend to watch a lot of TV. Which is frequently difficult to do, since some weeks we seem to not be home a lot. So it makes it hard to stay caught up on everything we have recorded on our TiVo.

We tend to choose one or two new shows each season to replace the things that have been cancelled. And we each have shows that the other doesn't care about, so we can watch them together or singly.

I tend to record a few shows off of HGTV and one or two off of the Food Network. But, if you watch Food TV at all, you know that most of that channel is now competition shows - very little cooking.

I'm happy to say that the winner of last season's "Next Food Network Star" had her premiere episode of her new show this past weekend. And although it had all the problems of a first episode, I loved it.

The host - Damaris Phillips - is from Kentucky, and is proud of that. She's Southern in all the best ways. Charming, and funny, and smart, and witty, and makes you want to come in and take a seat and while away a couple of hours.

Or, in my case, I found myself wanting to invite her to dinner. If you've been reading my blog for a while, you know that that is pretty normal for me - I love the idea of inviting a bunch of people over and cooking and eating together. The list includes a fairly eclectic group of people like John Barrowman, Lauren Graham, Samantha Brown, Angela Lansbury, and Nigella Lawson.

And, as of this weekend, I'm now adding Damaris Phillips to that list.

Fingers crossed that "Southern at Heart" stays around for a while. Since there's really no way that I'll get her here for dinner with Christopher and me, I'd love to at least get to enjoy her on my TV for a while.

Serendipity-doo-da

Having posted the "Sesame Street" themesong the other day, I was pleasantly surprised when I received an email from a good friend of mine which included a video - and it featured the Muppets.

What's even stranger is that - to the best of my knowledge - he's not a regular blog reader. So it was simply coincidence that he sent me the Muppets the day after I had posted my video.

I fully admit that I couldn't understand all of the words in the video, but by the time I got the end of the video, I know I was happy. And, really, doesn't that make it worthwhile?

Enjoy.

New Shoes

There is something about getting a new pair of shoes. Especially this time of year when it's time to go back to school.

And, no, I'm not going back to school any time soon, but I did get some new shoes the other day. I'm wearing them in the house right now to try to break them in a bit - and to make sure I want to keep them. (Since we all know that once they touch pavement, they're not going back to the store.)

I got these:

And I have to admit that wearing them makes me feel like this:

I suspect that I'm going to keep them. But I'm not going outside tonight, just in case.

Post Number 1,000! A Tiz List Before Moving On

It's been a while since I've posted a "Tiz List," and before we launch into the next thousand posts (after all, we start with 1, not 0, when counting), I thought I should clarify a few things.

For those of you unfamiliar with my Tiz Lists (or if you've simply forgotten over time where the name comes from), I've named these "lists of random things you may not know about me - or random things which at least I don't believe I've explicitly said about myself in the past" after the friend of mine who writes the "Tiz and Ass" blog. Why? Because each December she has written incredibly personal lists of things people don't know about her, and since that spirit is what prompted me to write my own lists, I decided to give credit where credit is due.

So, with an eye on wrapping up the past 999 posts in a bow so that we can move forward with 1,001 with a relatively clean slate, here we go: 

1. I haven't ever named "the pup" in the blog. And I don't plan to. Not sure why. I guess it's sort of for the same reason that I don't name people without their consent. She can't give her consent, so I'm not naming her. I also don't plan to name where I work, but that's totally different.

2. I know that I kind of have stopped blog-sighing over John Barrowman since meeting him. Don't get me wrong -  I would still invite him and his partner over for dinner if given the opportunity, and I'm sure he'll show up from time to time in the next 1,000 posts, but I wanted to let you know that I know that I've been talking about him less. 

3. Yes, I'm a Gemini. Although I think I have it "tamed" much more than I did in my 20s.

4. I am on various social media, but I don't connect with most people on them unless I actually know them. I kind of feel like if I wouldn't invite them over for dinner, I don't need them knowing what I'm doing all the time. 

5. There are people I've "met" through my blog, their blogs, or a combination of the two, who are now friends of mine on social media - even though they've never been to my home for dinner. And there are people who have been over to dinner who, even so, are not connected to me on social media.

6. I'm a huge proponent of having people over for dinner. My first date with Christopher was a dinner in my apartment almost 8 years ago. 

7. We ordered pizza, but the "in my home" was, I think, the important part.

8. I firmly believe that you can be great friends with people you have only met for a moment. Even if you don't see them again for a very long time. Or ever. And sometimes those same people leave bigger imprints on you than anyone else.

9. I think that some people - no matter how much time you spend together, or how much of an impact you make on each other - will always just be acquaintances. 

10. Some of my best friends are people who live in other parts of the world and I only hear from a few times a year. 

11. I think that's okay.

12. Since I started my current job, I find it harder and harder to read for fun, and to wrap my mind around writing anything longer than blog posts or emails. Even so, I think that some day I might publish a book or twelve of my own. 

13. There are days when I really miss being around the performing arts. 

14. And the artsy arts, too. 

15. No. Christopher and I are not planning to get married on August 1st when it becomes legal in Minnesota. (I had another person ask me that, earlier today. Totally out of the blue.)

16. I really would like to win the lottery and try to prove the "money can't buy happiness" people wrong. 

17. When I see movie stars with greying beards, it makes me happy, because I don't feel so bad about the grey in mine. 

18. I cannot imagine ever using any kind of color in my beard. That would be weird.

19. I have problems realizing that the grey is in my beard because I'm in my late 40s. I always kind of feel like I'm in my late 20s or early 30s - old enough to not have the pressure to go out and run around constantly, and content enough to not feel bad about that. 

20. I have come to prefer aggressive-aggressive over passive-aggressive. And I fully admit that when people are being passive-aggressive I'm happy to exploit the holes in that to my advantage. (Look, I said the Gemini in me was more tame than in my 20s. I didn't say it was gone.)

21. When I started this blog, I didn't think anyone would read it. I also figured it would probably last about 3 months - or until I got a job, whichever came first. 

22. I'm still under the impression that - most days - no more than 3 or 4 people read this blog. Two of whom are my parents. (Hi, Mom and Dad!)

23. When I write, I tend to imagine it as a conversation - which makes it a pleasant surprise when people respond in conversational fashion. 

24. I have already started looking at new layouts for this blog, and am planning to launch them with my next post. The writing style will probably stay mostly the same.

25. I suspect you really have no idea how much I appreciate those of you who read this blog. Writing in a vacuum is a little weird. So just being able to see that at least someone has seen my blog on any given day is nice. 

And, there we have it: my one thousandth blog post - a mere 4 years, 9 months, and a handful of days after the first one.

Hmm... I had kind of expected fanfare. Maybe trumpets or confetti. Or at least cake. In lieu of that, I offer you the following three minutes of video which - to me - are pretty much pure joy:

Clubbing Books (wait... that's not right...)

In the midst of a 90-plus-minute phonecall with a friend of mine from Baltimore (well... actually from before my time in Baltimore, but that's where he now lives), as we were talking about travel and jobs and families and all sorts of the random things you talk about on 90-minute phonecalls, we somehow started talking about books.

It's weird, you know. I work with books. Eight hours a day, five days a week, I'm pretty much immersed in books. But when I talk about them, I'm mainly talking about the mechanics of them. Things like "Do you prefer end-of-line hyphenation, or do you want those taken out?" or "Maybe you should rename your characters so they're not too cliche..." or "This sentence makes no sense, could you reword it?"

I don't really get to talk about the books as a whole - just the pieces of them. It's basically a "forest for the trees" kind of situation.

So tonight, when we stumbled into a book conversation, it was really nice. He talked about books his book club has been reading. And about books his students have been reading (he's a secondary school librarian). Then I told him about the books we've been reading in my book club, and what I've been working on at work.

I found myself actually taking notes of which books to put on my reading list, which I really can't imagine doing on the phone with more than a few people in my life. In part because I already have a massive stack of books next to my bed, so picking up new books is a dangerous thing to do. Of course, before I can read any of those, I need to finish the proofread that I brought home with me this weekend.

Life would be so much easier if I were independently wealthy.

Talking the Talk, part two

(Following up on what I said a couple of days ago, here.)

If you're on Facebook and were paying any attention last week, you most likely saw a lot of variations on a red and pink equals sign in support of marriage equality. It was based on the Human Rights Campaign's (HRC's) logo, and it was pushed out while the two landmark marriage rights cases were being heard by the US Supreme Court.

It was kind of amazing to see the visual manifestation of the outpouring of support by people from all over. And, as the idea spread, it was great fun to watch the variations. From the equals sign being replaced by bacon, to the square panels being used as the tiles in mosaics, the campaign became as individualized as are the reasons people support the cause.

Believe it or not, according to ABC News and Facebook, something like 2.7 million more FB users changed their profile pictures last Tuesday (after the HRC suggested using the red equals sign) than on the prior Tuesday. And although FB didn't tally how many were actually the logos, you kind of have to assume that a lot of them were.

Here's the thing, though: I watched all of those spring up on my FB Newsfeed, and it was amazing. People were saying that it was becoming hard to know which of your friends you were talking to, because everyone looked the same - and how cool was that?

But then people started to kind of get badgered into changing their profile pictures. I, personally, put up a photo of Christopher and me - because that seemed to be more about my own case for marriage equality than any red logo could be. And, happily, the reactions I got to that photo offered me just as much meaningful support as all the rest of those red logos put together.

Of course, over the past few days, FB has started shifting back to "normal" - where people's personal photos are taking back the Newfeed. (Mine went back to something Easter-y for the weekend.)

And although the visual outpouring of support was nice, I'm okay that it's fading. Or at least that the pressure to be one of the cool kids by showing the logo off is fading. There are still plenty of people with those logos on their pages, and it's still cool to see them when I log in. But I don't *have* to see them.

You see, as much I love seeing those images, I would rather have people speaking out every day in favor of equal rights for all - and contacting their legislators, and, most importantly, talking to their kids, and talking to each other - than to have them pressuring other people to post a picture for 2 days.

After all, if equality is only something we support 2 days a year, we're not going to get anywhere. When it's part of our everyday lives - when it fits in right alongside pictures of our dogs and cats and kids and vacations - that's when real change is going to happen.

The Wonderful World of Color

There is something incredibly "inner-child-liberating" about dying Easter eggs. Whether it's the idea of using a crayon to write hidden messages which will only show up in the dye, or swirling in the oil to make "marbled" eggs, it's just so silly that you can't help but love it.

Having not colored any eggs last year, this year I decided to go whole chicken and do a full 18 eggs. (It doesn't hurt that the 18-egg packs were on sale for less than the dozens were.)

(Not that I didn't let my inner child out to play at other times of the year, though. And, as you may remember, two years ago I relived the joy of The Bunny Cake.)

This year, though, I just had the urge to dye eggs. So I did. All 18 of them. And some paper towels. And some newspaper. And my fingers.

I suspect I'll be taking festive hard-cooked eggs to work with me for lunches for the foreseeable future.

I might also go out and buy some marked-down egg coloring kits after Easter is done, just so that I can have fun colored eggs in my fridge from time to time throughout the year.

Because, really, aside from the chance to color your fingers purple and orange and green, what better reason is there to dye the eggs than to be able to smile every time you open the fridge?

Can You Spare 15,000 Dimes?

I'm not really a huge fan of cute food. As much as I like to see gorgeous food show up on the table in front of me, I'd rather have food that tastes good than food that looks good.

On the one hand, if the food is too pretty, then I feel bad digging in.

On the other hand, if the food is that pretty, I kind of wonder what it's going to taste like.

I'd much prefer an average looking plate of food which I don't feel guilty about eating.

Usually.

This week, I was talking to someone about dark chocolate, and happened to suggest that she look at the website for La Maison du Chocolat. (Don't look yet, it will spoil the surprise.)

I was poking around on the site talking about their truffles and their individual chocolates, pointing out how overly expensive they are (they're French, so if you're buying them in the States, you have to realize you're paying massive import fees).

And then I saw that they have an Easter selection. I was expecting bunnies. And eggs. I was figuring that they would be cute, but I'd be more than happy to bite their little ears off and eat them up.

But what I found was this:

Ohmigod. Can you believe how cute they are? 

Which brings me to my dilemma. You see... The small, individual sheep are about $90 each. The duo in front of the fence? $220. The whole adorable scene at the top? $1,200.

And I'm not really sure I would be able to eat them because they are so freakin' cute.

But I'd be willing to try, if any of you can spare me 15,000 dimes.

(Oh. Wait. You better make that about 17,500 dimes, because we'll need to cover shipping. And we'll need to get both of the individual sheep, because we wouldn't want the other one to feel left out...) (Don't worry, I can get you my shipping address. Just let me know.)

Past Lives

It has been a strange day of living in my past. Kind of unintentionally.

I mean... I haven't been in a funk and wanting to relive some other time - which I totally admit happens from time to time - it just kind of happened of its own accord, today.

I reached into my closet this morning for a t-shirt. I wanted something with a graphic of some kind (because I can wear that kind of thing to work), and just pulled out the first shirt that I put my hand on. It's a really comfortable t-shirt from the 30th Birthday celebration for a store called Kitchen Bazaar from out in Maryland. I worked there in... umm... 1993, maybe? Maybe 1994? But I still have good friends from there, and good friends I met while working there - but who, themselves, did not work there.

At work, today, I was introduced to a new member of staff, and the topic came up that - having started at the company 4 years ago - I'm currently the 6th most senior member of the staff.

In the course of the day, I got a notice that a good friend of mine will be leaving his job at CenterStage Theater in Baltimore in the near future. This is a good friend of mine whom I hired to work under me in the Box Office many years ago - I worked there from 1996 until 2002. (He has, since, gone on to be a Box Office manager and then work in the Development office and do all sorts of cool things.) He's kind of my last solid connection to that theater. It's a weird feeling knowing that he's moving on and that I won't need to stop by the theater to see people on future visits to Baltimore.

Got home from work and had a SDSU alumni magazine (class of 1989!) in the mail. No biggie. I get those often enough - although it did seem a bit coincidental.

But then I opened an envelope from my parents to find that the note was written on a card which had the show artwork from a CenterStage production of the August Wilson play "Two Trains Running" on the front of it (which I recognized and was able to name even before looking at the back of the card, even though the show ran a couple of seasons before I started work there).

What else was in the envelope? A clipping from my hometown newspaper's "Way Back When" column where, from 24 years ago, there was a notice that I had just been awarded a Fulbright Teaching Assistantship to France (apparently one of 12 recipients from SDSU from 1968 until 1989, in case you were wondering).

I'm not sure what it all means, really.

Perhaps it's just all funky coincidence based in the fact that today was the birthday of Douglas Adams - the guy who wrote the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series of books.

Perhaps it's the universe's not-so-subtle way of reminding me where I've come from.

Perhaps it's a hint that I need to clear out my closet more frequently.

We may never know.

Valentine's Romance

I think that, once you get done with the "shoeboxes of hand-made Valentine's" stage of life, you should be told that you can't do any more Valentine-ing until you're a fully grown-up person.

I suspect that many people would enjoy the day more if they had had a respite in the middle. If they hadn't had to suffer through Junior High Sweetheart dances, or being forced to care (or not care) about the day in High School.

Personally, I don't remember the first time I had a Valentine's Day date.

I remember times when I would go out with friends to parties or bars and hang out. And I remember one Valentine's Day in my late 20s which was - although I didn't realize it at the time - the beginning of a break-up (which took a few more weeks to come to its completion). But, really, I don't remember any significant Valentine's dates along the way.

Instead, when I was working retail, I'd offer to work that night so that people who had dates could go out. And, well, so that I could try to talk desperate men out of buying blenders for their wives ("because she's always said she wanted to make smoothies for her diet...").

A few years ago, that changed, though. I started to look forward to Valentine's Day just a bit more. Not in an "I want red and pink and over-the-top gestures" kind of way, but just in an "I'm happy to have you in my life" kind of way.

I'm lucky, though, because Christopher and I have a decent amount of romance in our lives on a daily basis. We have fresh flowers in the house a lot of the year. We go out to dinner for no reason. We stay in and sit on the couch together watching movies. We basically do all of the things that people get so worked up about on Valentine's Day - we just do it all year, instead.

I have to admit that, last year, when Christopher scheduled a week away with friends to take place over Valentine's Day... well... that made me not so happy. I didn't think it would matter, but once it was scheduled, I realized that it kind of did. It was a shock to me (well, to both of us) how much it bugged me. But we talked about it, and so this year he's not leaving for his trip until the 16th. Which means that we have today (well... except for the fact that we're at our jobs) and tonight together.

And how are we planning to spend this romantic day?

We're going to go to a late-afternoon matinee of the latest "Die Hard" movie so that we can watch a bunch of stuff get blown up while having a gourmet dinner of popcorn and sodas. Then we're going to go home and hang out on the couch with the pup.

Yep. I'm thinking that Christopher and I do Valentine's Day romance in what is, quite possibly, the best way ever.