Riot and Frolic

Jesus and the Second Hand

February 2, 2012

For two years, I've been listening to my weirdo children trying to grasp the English language. Besides forever altering the way I say "oatmeal" (which is from now until eternity, "openmeal"), those kids say the darnedest things, right?

Their learning curve has made me remember a couple speed bumps I encountered on my road to linguistic awesomeness (occasional incorrect spelling of "fuchsia" aside).

Jesus:

When I was young, I read a LOT and didn't go to church. Although these things seem unrelated, they are integral to the following…

I remember being in the car with my bro and folks when I was 8 or so. The Bro did something annoying and brotherly and I said, "Geezus! Stop it!" My parents, rather shocked, chastised me. They cited not using Jesus's name in vain or something foreign and Christian.

"No, not Je-sus, Mom… Gee-zus." It was completely clear to me that I wasn't being offensive to any of my Catholic school friends (whose Lenten resolutions were often "not say 'God' so much").

Totally different word, Ma. Geezus, rhymes with Beezus from the fantastic Ramona books. Not just a phonetic way of spelling Jesus to get it in print.

Wait…

The Second Hand:

The second hand on a clock. You know the one that clicks off the seconds?

This confused me for… um… 31 years.

Yes, I was 31 years old when I figured out what the hell people meant when they said "second hand". I was looking at the clock in the studio when I was all, "Lightbulb."

Oh, duh, I knew they were talking about the one that goes around quickly, but that is the THIRD HAND. Hour hand- first. Minute hand- SECOND. Second hand- uh, third.

Well, crap. When you write it out, it's rather obvious, isn't it?

Are there any turns of phrase that confused you? Any "lightbulb" moments you'd like to share? I can't be the only one, right?

Please don't make fun of me.
Knit Picking

February 1, 2012

Man, I am on a roll with my post titles! They are so gloriously cliche and awesome.

Good for me. At least I'm having fun.

Yeah, so, I've been trying knitting lately. My knitting is like my running. I do both because I hate them.

Maybe "hate" is the wrong word.

I find them both very challenging and frustrating and I MUST CONQUER THEM.

I hear other normal people have hobbies that they like. Weirdos.

I've heard tell of the challenge of reading a crochet pattern, but what the hell does this mean?

Row 7: K1, P1, K1, P1, m1F, P1, K1, P1, K1 (9 st)

Row 8: Work in the rib pattern across all the stitches

Row 9: K1, P1, K1, P1, Kfb, P1, K1, P1, K1 (10 st)

Row 10: P1, K1, P1, K1, P2, K1, P1, K1, P1

I didn't really know, no matter how many YouTube videos I looked at, so I made something up. Nothing's unraveled yet, so we'll just look at my newest project from far away, okay?

Wait, no, let's look at it close up. Hey, you real knitters out there… What did I do?

['Cause you can really tell from my crappy photo…]

I'm working on this headband ear warmer from T. Matthews, which seems to be the only pattern on The Interwebs for this phenomenom of a cold weather accessory. The decreasing finish of the pattern is a relative breeze to the seven circles of increasing hell that starts off the parade. God give me strength!

My other slight success in the knitting realm is a dishcloth I made for my broski. I don't know why I keep making him things (as opposed to buying him something, or sending an e-card or whatever)… like, elaborate things that I have no skill in making.

It's a dishcloth that says "nerd". 'Cause what else are you going to give your bro once he's out-grown Star Wars action figures… Or has he? Duh duh DUH!

http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docid=8513875607166412836&hl=en&fs=true

[Hey, Wyatt.]

I'll buy that watch and whatever else you're selling.
Chai It, You Might Like It

January 31, 2012

Feel free to groan at the title to this post. I'm pretty sure I've seen it on a bumper sticker from Sawatdee Thai Restaurants (the only place Minnesotans eat Thai food), so I'm not the only punny one in the state of 10,000 lakes.

I'm making chai tea right now.

I'm not even a big lover o' chai, I just thought it'd be interesting to make. When I worked as a barista (best job ever, except now I'm very critical of others' job performance, mostly in how sssslllooooowww some baristas make their drinks- I mean, multi-task, peeps!), I always loved making them. They smell great (like apple cider, without the apple) and they were super-easy to make. Pour something from a box labeled "Chai", pour some milk, heat. Neat.

What I'm learning from my recipe browsing is that you make a black tea concentrate with some amalgamation of cloves, cinnamon, ginger, and cardamom, then you can go crazy and add pepper, nutmeg, allspice, cocoa and/or vanilla. THEN you combine that concentrate with an equal part of milk (it's suggested to be cream or whole milk, but I'm watchin' my girlish figure) and heat it or throw it over some ice.

I went for the hot route on the first taste. I'll throw the rest in the fridge to try out tomorrow morning. Unless you come over now and have some. I'm just sayin'.

I used this recipe from Clare Cooks! because it started with loose tea and powdered spices (which is what I had in the house). I did, however, add cardamom and nutmeg. Equal parts of all the spices. I actually measured and everything.

Gotta tell you, the homemade stuff is pretty good.

But! I will be trying some different versions. I like how this website has a bunch of chai tea variations on the theme, especially the "Very American Chai"…

Strong, sugary, and indulgent — it’s the American way.

I like all those words.

If you're looking for an instant fix, here's a very highly regarded Chai Tea recipe on allrecipes.com. It makes powdered Chai Tea, no straining (literally) involved.

Also on the docket for tonight (the After Bedtime Cooking Show): double chocolate espresso cookies. Say what!? Yes, you heard me.

Tomorrow, I'm going to blow your mind with my awesome knitting skills (NOT).

Your wife is adorable.
List of Last Week’s Labors of Love

January 30, 2012

– the Zoo's first bites of actual food- sweet potatoes! Go, baby! But stay relatively immobile for awhile, eh?

– my first week of a seven-week plan to run 4 times a week. Yes, count 'em- FOUR. Oy.

It didn't seem like a fun prospect (since I've been running 3x/week on a good week), but I responded very well to my self-imposed bribe. I saw this awesome bracelet that I really wanted (but couldn't justify buying), so I told myself if I ran all four times AND did all my workouts, I could buy it as a bit of a trophy.

– lesson learned: I can be bought.

– next week's prize- that case of Coke Zero I bought at Costco. It's taunting me by the back door as we speak. Oh yeah, Coke Zero? Well, I already got my first run in, so there!

BTW, what's in Coke Zero to make it taste good? I mean, it really tastes like real Coke. Don't tell me it's aspartame. That'll make me sad.

– the grand prize? Nike's Lady Cortez running shoes, a version that I designed on NikeID, that are ALL FUCHSIA.

– a bunch of awesome practices with the G where we not only danced together, but made stuff easier AND feel better. Shut up. Plus, a million (okay, three) hours of fantastic coaching and advice from some of our favorite people.

– doing my hair like this, basically, all the time. It makes me look put together in about three minutes. Thanks, lady!

I'll even save you the trouble of searching for the bump-it thing on Amazon. Here's the link for the Asian bump-it. It's magical.

– seeing the G off for his week-long work trip. Boo. The locale of Jamaica doesn't bring to mind "work". Plus, he's fun to have around.

– another fun, but small, "stitch and make pleasant conversation" at my crafty heroine's house. It was really fun. Relaxing. Freak show. (She had the world's largest lemon that one of her relatives sent her. It was hilariously big. Larger than a grapefruit. Ginormous.)

– planning my friend's baby shower: mustaches and bowties. This girl? Excited.

Dude, this list is getting long. Enough!
Jobs I’d Be Bad At #1 and #2

January 27, 2012

The G and I have been watching the Australian Open this week. For those of you who don't know, that's a tennis tournament in the land of criminals.

I don't really get tennis. The ball goes back and forth and it's EXCITING. Or so I've been told. Like most sports, I can "watch" a game/match/shindig with the best of them, but I only get interested in the final minutes.

In those final minutes, people/teams/playas either get desparate or good. Either way, then it's fun to watch. A good football game should really only last ten minutes, really.

Anyhoo, the reason I get involved in watching tennis is not because of the actual volley/serve/ point business, but because of all the extraneous people around the court.

There's all these ballboys (or girls or people or whatever) and line judges and those are jobs I could not do.

Ballgirl. Here's what goes through my mind when I see myself in their job:

ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodGOT IT! oh crap! I dropped it! everyone just saw me drop that ball now I have to go get it and OH! I kicked it! sorrysorrysorry… got it… we're cool…

I feel like everyone is watching me is everyone watching me? does my butt look big in these dumb shorts? could they have chosen an uglier color for these uniforms? oh crap. I should be watching the game.

you? me? you? me? you? you. you. you. you get it… oh, I got it.

do you want a ball? or your towel? ball? towel? water? towel? okay, here. Oh, crap, I dropped it… sorrysorrysorry… water? now? yeah? oh crap, I spilled water on your white shorts! oh, and now you're throwing me your towel and… oh crap, I dropped it. sorrysorrysorry…

Mostly, I'd worry about my hand-eye coordination, which is surprisingly bad.

G says I'd probably like being a line judge. They get to yell "HOEP!" when the ball is out.

HOE… errrrr… p? i don't know…

HOEP! oh, not now? okay.

HOEP!… wait, am I supposed to yell when it's "out" or "in"?

HOEP! [player challenges my HOEPing] What? WHAT? Of COURSE I saw it correctly! [getting in playa's face and waving my finger] You're not even neeeear the line and I'm staring right at it.

Yeah, nothing I'd be good at.

We would probably get in a fight.
Running on Thin Ice

January 26, 2012

Running is hard. Especially for lazy people. Especially for lazy night owls. Especially for lazy night owls who like to be warm.

I started hibernation mode when the weather dipped below 10 degrees and I didn't have my ALL-IMPORTANT running hat. It's cold and I don't have my hat. I mean, it was really logical not to run- too cold, no hat.

But then my stupid [awesome] friend, America, decided to text me her running distances every time she, you know, runs. "Friend."

And THEN, my ungrateful [totally thoughtful] in-laws mail me my ALL-IMPORTANT hat that I left at their house. The nerve!

Now I am not only do I have the constant barrage of texts (okay, daily), but it's like 35 degrees and I have my damn hat.

FIne. I'll run.

But it's icy.

Minnesota has had a really great winter this year, because it's not really winter. I think we've only had three days below zero and that is down right TROPICAL. It's snowed a little bit, just enough to cover up the grass in most places. But then it gets all above freezing during the day, which (duh) melts some of the snow, and then all those puddles turn to (duh) ice at night.

Since I've been running in the morning, it's been a little experiment in runskating. I've been using Yaktrax off and on. Those things are nice. When I hit patchs of ice, it feels exactly the same as running on dry cement. Score.

The problem is when I'm running over semi-packed snow. Since those little buggers are like snow tires for your shoes, they grab the snow and kick it up and then I just look like I'm doing the Running Man to celebrate my last mile.

And really, my pace is no reason for celebration.

Are you a winter runner? WHY? Dear God, tell me why. And how. Because, baby, it's cold outside.

Shouldn't he be sparkling?
IKEA Cooking

January 24, 2012

I'm making Swedish potatoes (inspired by Pinterest and with a love of nationalist spuds) and all I can do is this…

Bork bork bork!

Awesome.
Self Description

January 19, 2012

How HORRIBLE is it to write your own biography? I feel like such a douche no matter what I write.

First of all, it feels awful because I'm writing it in the third person.

Kate started her career as an idiot the minute she was born.

Nobody likes that guy that refers to himself in the third person. That girl is even worse.

But if I go the other way and write it in the first person, it's like I'm writing my "What I Did Last Summer" essay.

I like to dance. Dancing is fun. We should dance together. *dots i's with hearts*

Then, you're supposed to list accomplishments. Are you really supposed to talk about those in public? Isn't it impolite? Like, sex, religion, politics, and things you do well, right?

Kate has done and accomplished more than you ever will. Nanananabooboo.

And after all that nonsense, I have to mention my family and hobbies. I mean, I get to. Otherwise, I'd be rude and ungrateful and one-dimensional.

Kate's kids are awesome and hilarious, but of course, you'd have to meet them to know that for sure and her husband is really ridiculously good looking, smart, and talented, and she runs and cooks and knits and crochets, but she's not a nerd even though it kind of seems like it.

The only good part of writing a biography? Doing research. Reading some other bios. Some of them are like historical novels. A little fact here, a little fiction there… Creative. I want those people to write mine.

Until then, I'll just wear a nice suit.
Self Promotion: YODEL

January 18, 2012

*panting*

So excited.

You know I've been thinking about world domination through crafts, right?

Part One of The Takeover is in place: the first ever YODEL (Yarn Over, Drink, Eat… Legit) has a time and place.

Monday, February 13, 2012 from 5-8pm. Claddagh Coffee, St. Paul, MN. Word.

[Source: PS Press. If this place still exists, they'll be making the YODEL logo… I see t-shirts…]

I just reserved the adorable basement at the new and awesome Claddagh Coffee (459 West Seventh Street, St. Paul, MN, homies). It seats about 20 people, it's free to "rent" (they do ask that you buy something in exchange for loitering privileges), and their drinks and food are tasty. Parking is on the street, so be prepared for a brisk walk if it decides to really be winter for a few more weeks.

Bring your knitting/crocheting/[insert other portable craft} skills or lack thereof over to the cooler Twin City and enjoy some coffee, cake, and camaraderie.

Nerdiness, alliteration, and teachering of needle arts is free. I'll bring a couple extra balls of yarn, hooks, needles, and patience (yes, a couple extra balls of patience). Stay for the whole night or drop in to say hi. Invite your friends, co-workers, lovers, and neighbors! The more, the merrier!

Please RSVP via the comment section or on the Facebook event page. If we get many more than 20 people, I might have to change the location.

If the #1 YODEL goes well, I think the #2 YODEL should involve alcohol. Namely, by hosting it at a bar. Hands up for that idea.

The Dalai Lama is IN.

Keanu's younger brother is almost in.
Self Portrait

January 17, 2012

WHY can't I find a decent picture of myself? Every year, when I'm asked to judge this local dance competition, the organizers ask me for a photo and a bio.

Blurg.

Every year, I scan through my iPhoto library, then my Facebook account, then I Google myself and I find NOTHING! Well, nothing with my mouth closed (am I really constanting yelling/talking/eating? the answer is yes)…

and nothing with my eyes open (apparently I'm very sleepy… when I'm dancing)…

and nothing where I'm doing an impression of a normal person (the word "dorky" comes to mind).

I also notice a lot of jazz hands…

But I like that this one came up in my Google search…

How did Google know I like to slap fools in the face? Ah, Googs, you know me so well.

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