Avocado Fries – STAT

26 07 2012

avocado fries

I happened across a recipe tonight for avocado fries and thought to myself, “Self? YOU NEED TO EAT THOSE. RIGHT NOW.” Only the recipe called for breadcrumbs (gluten) and frying (too messy – I’m lazy as hell) so I decided to just make up my own recipe on the spot. I do this from time to time and usually the food is edible (and by “edible” I mean “I’ll eat pretty much anything you put in front of me”), but tonight’s experiment was AWESOME. It was simple, healthy, grain-free, and fast. This is a good recipe for anyone who’s lazy as hell (like me).

Almond flour (approximately 1/2 C per avocado? I don’t know, I don’t measure anything)
Onion powder & salt to taste

Mix those together. Slice the avocado and gently dredge each piece in the almond flour mixture. Lay on a silpat or parchment paper and spray with oil (I use sunflower in a mister because that’s the kind of oil we are allowed to eat what with our 150 food allergies*). Bake at 400 degrees for maybe 15 minutes (also, I don’t time anything), turn once during baking.

That’s it. Easy and super delicious.

*Which I haven’t blogged about yet. But I will. Probably. Maybe.





Don’t worry, I don’t stalk anymore.

18 07 2012

Legally I cannot tell you whose house I am standing in front of.

So last night I confessed on Twitter that I once stalked a celebrity. This was, for some reason, not only accepted in my family, but encouraged. I was also encouraged to stalk all the boys I ever liked, and unfortunately for them, I worked in the school office so I had access to their addresses and phone numbers. Also, I provided my friends with the personal information of their crushes. One year, on Rene’s birthday, we were picked up from school in a limo and we told the poor driver to drive past Howie’s house like 40 times. Poor Howie*. Poor limo driver.

The whole stalking thing is pretty upsetting to me now, as I can see it as a major invasion of privacy. My penance has been to mainly avoid celebrity gossip, and I’m certain that it will play a large role in my inability to ever approach anyone famous ever, even if they are at Comic Con and, at a table signing autographs FOR the fans. It just makes me feel guilty and stalky. I may be slightly neurotic.

Anyway, when I was a young teenager I saw a movie and it had an actor in it and I developed a crush on him. And, as we all know, I don’t do obsessions half-assed. I won’t say what movie because it’s embarrassing, but the actor went on to be in Empire Records and That Thing You Do. The names and places in this story have been changed to protect the innocent. We’ll call the actor “Ethan” because that is his name (I’m not very good at this, am I?), but we’ll change all the other names.

I knew, through extensive research (Bop Magazine), that he lived in Paradise California (the fictional one by the beach, not the actual Paradise out in the desert somewhere… which doesn’t sound paradisey at all), right on the beach, and that he surfed every day. So my mom thought a great idea would be to drive up there and go to the beach. My grandma was game, too. It was a good old family stalking road trip. Ah. Memories.

At some point we stopped on the way up, maybe to stretch our legs or something, I don’t remember, and my grandma and I walked down to the sand where I saw this graffiti which amused me. But my grandma controlled the camera that day and refused to take a picture of funny spray paint (frivolous!) unless I stood in the picture. Just look at that retro sports bottle. Probably filled with Diet Coke, because that is what I was raised on, and I didn’t discover other good sodas until high school.

Untitled

The houses just above us in this picture all fell off cliffs the following winter. Because California does not handle weather very well. And rich people keep insisting on paying shit tons of money for houses that are just about to fall off cliffs. If I ever buy a house, you better believe it will be far away from cliffs. And valleys.

We arrived in Paradise and didn’t see him surfing anywhere. We did see a stretch limo truck, though. This was before every other limo was a Hummer, so we were excited enough to stop and take a picture of it (also with me in it, because, that’s how my grandma rolled) that I can’t currently find. *sigh* But we weren’t stalking Limos of Unusual Size, so we found a phone book and looked up Ethan’s parent’s names. Interestingly, we found his mom’s name at the same address as an office listed as his dad’s profession. BINGO. It wasn’t in Paradise, though. It was in Oxnard. (No, it wasn’t. I just watch too much TV.) Despite his dirty lie, we tore the page out of the phone book (you know, to protect him from dangerous stalkers. Also for a souvenir), and drove off to find the address.

Which, now that I am spoiled by GPS, I’m not sure how we did. But my grandma was a whiz with a map so I bet that’s how. (Before the internet, my grandma WAS my MapQuest. Also she did my taxes.)

So we find the address and, THANK GOD, no one was home. I don’t remember how we knew. Maybe we knocked on the door? At some point some neighbor kid came out and asked us if we were looking for “the boy from the movies” and we said yes. He assured us that the boy was “really nice” and then we took a picture of him, too. (But, dammit, I can’t find it right now. Maybe someday I will.) And also of some initials carved into the curb right in front of the house which were probably famous initials.

Untitled

And then we drove home. With the phone book page. It’s dangerous to allow a teenage girl raised by stalkers to have the phone number of anyone stalk-worthy. I annoyed his family. Repeatedly. *sigh* At some point he wrote me a very nice letter, two pages long. His handwriting was small and neat. He told me about the movies he’d just finished and the ones he was about to start. In between the lines I think were the words, “Please, for god’s sake, leave me alone, you scary girl. Please?” And I think I did. But I’m not totally sure because all this happened 100 years ago. At SOME point I obviously stopped stalking him because I don’t even think I have that phone book page anymore. And also the area code probably changed like 67 times since then. Cause that’s how we roll in California. I also lost the letter he wrote me. We didn’t find it in my mom’s house, so it must have been lost for many years now. Or maybe it’ll turn up again. Who knows?

Years later, when I was in London (which I still can’t link to because I still haven’t written it) I halfheartedly tried to stalk Douglas Adams. I think I kept that phone book page, too. I am such a vandal.

But I’m done now. No more stalking (probably). So, Ethan, if you ever happen to come across this blog (which would be… surprising), I’m sorry. And I hope I’m not the reason you changed your last name. *cough*

*This particular Howie is not the Howie I currently know. Just to be clear.





And then I went to Comic Con all of a sudden.

16 07 2012

view from across the street

I’ve been to Comic Con before, but the last time was 10 years ago; that fabled time when it’s name was more accurate. I’m not a huge comic person – not because I think they aren’t worthwhile, but because they just aren’t my favorite way to experience a story – so it was fun, but not amazeballs. Over the years, I somehow wound up as babysitter while the then-husband went off every year and had fun. And that was pretty much fine. Until 2009 when they held the last Lost panel. That morning, as the ex was getting ready to go, I suddenly realized that the kids were really old enough that I could ditch them all day and go myself. But I didn’t. I can’t remember why. Maybe because I felt like it was shitty to find a last-minute babysitter, maybe because the Con was already sold out? Either way, I kicked myself. And each year after that, I watched more closely as more and more things I was interested in began to be represented there. I love reading Epbot to see all the Cons they go to; they’ve inspired me to try to be more active in that community. Of course, every year the Con got bigger as more things OTHER people were interested in also began to be represented. And now it’s pretty much impossible to buy tickets, the system is so convoluted and, honestly, not prepared for all the web traffic.

me! with a badge!

So I’ve mostly watched enviously from the sidelines, but this year I was pretty brokenhearted to miss it. So the kids and I decided we’d just go hang out in downtown and watch the people going to and from. There are always lots of Con-related events outside of the convention center, too. There was a Tumblr Doctor Who get together I hope to make next year, but this year we went to spend the day with Noah, celebrating his birthday. So we decided we’d go down on Sunday, the day of the Doctor Who panel, because even though it was unlikely that we’d meet Matt Smith so that I could sniff him, I figured there would be a lot of Doctor Who-related costumes and that would be fun.

convention center elevator

But! While we were driving home from Noah’s house that night I got a call from a number I didn’t recognize and decided to answer it (because, lord knows, it might have been the Today Show. Again). It was from a woman I didn’t even know* offering me one ticket to the Con. Immediately the wheels in my head started turning – who can I ditch my kids with tomorrow and would the kids kill me or not? – but then she added that kids were free so I was all, “HELLS YES, PLEASE!” And the kids were all, “WE’RE GOING TO COMIC CON? WE’RE GOING TO COMIC CON!”

margie opted out of her too-hot darth vader costume to wear my doctor shirt instead

Pretty much as soon as we got there, Margie dragged me over to the line for the Doctor Who panel. This was a good idea, it turns out. Cause we were close to the back of the line**, and weren’t even certain we’d get in. That’s the Comic Con Gamble, I guess. Wait for three hours (or more) and hope you get in.

captain jack

The ex had suggested we split the kids at some point to get some one-on-one time with each so I figured that three hours of line-waiting was probably too much for the little one, so he came to get Elliott and they wandered around together, while everyone complimented Elliott’s costume. E was sad to miss the panel, though, so I am a little bit of a Bad Mommy for orchestrating things that way.  *sigh*

In front of us in line were a couple of really cool women we talked to a little bit here and there, but behind us were a group of super-annoying guys. From what I could understand, the father didn’t realize his son was Canadian? It was bizarre. And they kept loudly talking about religion and politics and then saying they weren’t going to talk about religion and politics, but continuing to talk about religion and politics anyway. They happened to disagree with me politically, which isn’t normally a big deal, but they kept saying things like, “Americans hate France because it’s socialist and Americans hate socialism.” Which. Actually, the reason I hate France*** is because their food sucks. And also I hold a grudge for that extra day we were supposed to be in London, but got stuck in Paris the day it was closed (I’d link you, but I haven’t written that part of my Europe trip yet). Also, I kind of like socialism and happen to be American. But the most annoying thing they did was truly assholey. THEY CUT. IN. LINE. Every time the line moved forward, they tried pushing past us, but I was not letting that happen. Because! Justice! But then it happened anyway. And we bitched about it with the cool girls in front of us. I guess the moral of that story is the girls rule and boys drool?

and then we waited

So we sat in line**** wondering if we’d make it in. For three hours. And the internet was VERY BORING. Margie had her DSi, and I considered watching some TV on my phone, but I had this story in my head yelling at me, “Nooooo! Don’t use up your phone’s battery! Because if someone famous wants to put your son on his shoulders later you WILL REGRET IT.” So, despite the fact that I actually had two other cameras with me that day, I conserved my phone’s battery (and naturally did not see anyone famous. One way to always see famous people or ghosts is to never have working cameras with you). They made announcements saying the two panels ahead of ours in Hall H (Fringe, and Supernatural) were closed, but no one left the line. Because Doctor Who. Duh. And the the line began to move. And we all crossed our fingers. And a part of me knew we’d get in, because everything that had happened in the previous 18 hours seemed to be leading me there, but that part of me sure as hell wasn’t going to say that out loud even if I did have my wooden bracelet to knock on just in case. And then we got in! And we were all the way in the back. And by “in the back” I mean probably just 1,000 people behind us.

we were nowhere near this close

So, after a year, I finally got to sniff the Doctor (that link goes to a very embarrassingly emo post. Don’t read it). And even though there were 4,000-5,000 people in between us, I can say with certainty***** that he smells like…. air conditioning!

you can see the teeny heads there in the distance, between the giant sillhoutte-heads

This post is so long and I haven’t even gotten to the panel yet. Maybe I am wordy enough to write books?

Anyway, the panel was awesome. It was funny and exciting and we got to see exclusive clips which are, surprisingly, not yet on YouTube (nerds, you fail me. stop being so honorable). People and daleks and TARDISes (of a Californian sort?) asked questions.

this girl's costume was super cute

ACTUALLY, I have to stop you there for a second. The night before the official SDCC panel, they did a thing at Nerd HQ and broadcast it live online. And one of the questions they were asked there was how to pluralize TARDIS. When the cast didn’t have a very good answer the girls who asked it (who were all wearing very awesome TARDIS dresses) offered their (clearly correct suggestion) that it remain TARDIS because it’s an acronym. It would change to “Times and relative dimensions in space”. I LOVE GEEKS.

Anyway. It was amazeballs. I was so excited I was practically dancing in my chair. And then it was over and we headed out with a giant scary mob that was, honestly, claustrophobic. I generally handle crowds well. I don’t LOVE them – I always prefer empty spaces – but they don’t make me panicky or terribly upset. But that mob did. I held myself together just fine, but it tapped me out for the rest of the day and walking around the floor wasn’t nearly as fun as it would have been otherwise. Or if, you know, no one else was there. So we headed home, it was almost over anyway.

and then they made us all cross the line with our hands in the air like criminals for some reason

And I feel satisfied. I’ve been to Comic Con again. I’ve seen the Doctor Who panel, and I’ve been IN THE SAME ROOM AS THE DOCTOR. And now I think, for at least a few more years, I’ll be content to watch any future panels online rather than dealing with the hassle of trying to figure out how to buy tickets and then possibly getting stampeded after having paid money for the tickets. I totally want to go to smaller cons, though. There’s a Doctor Who one in February I’m seriously considering.

The way this whole thing came together was fairly divine. Got a call from a stranger offering me a ticket the very day of the one thing I REALLY wanted to see, the ability to go, the ability to make it in – and, I forgot to mention earlier, we found EXCELLENT parking *just* across the street for less than half of what I’d been told I’d have to pay. It felt like a gift from The Universe.

Of course, I woke up this morning with a head cold. But, still, we had a magical weekend.

You can see the whole set of pictures here at Flickr.

*Although I may have met her at park days before, I think she got my number from a mutual friend. This was legit, not some creepy scam.
**Because there were probably only 500 people in line behind us.
***I probably don’t ACTUALLY hate France. But I should probably go there once more. Just to make sure.
****You can tall I’m Californian because I say “in” line and not “on” line the way East Coasters do. I learned that from A Way With Words. #Smrt
*****Or with “certainty”.





I had a lot to tweet about in June.

1 07 2012

Today’s weird park experience: Groups of people asking if they can wheelbarrow our kids up the hill. I love this park.
June 1

Elliott to me: Mario Kart isn’t broken. You’re just not good at it.
June 1

I don’t know how I got here to Old Navy. My car just drove me here.
June 2

Vespa gang just drove by. This is how La Jolla rolls.
June 2

Mad Men: What’s with all the short skirts without tights in the snow?
June 3

I’m wearing flip flops and getting a carwash on a rainy day. Apparently I’m in denial.
June 4

(EDITOR’S NOTE: Those two tweets, right in a row? I’m so cute.)

I just remembered how we used to learn stuff back in the Dark Ages before Google: Snapple Lids.
June 5

I signed up for the grown up version of the summer reading program today. Elliott says this is “embarrassing and awesome.”
June 6

I was going to go to bed early but then Netflix was all, “Hey, babe, we totally have the David Tennant Cassanova on Instant now.”
June 6

(Yes, Netflix calls me “babe”. We have a Thing.)
June 6

I can walk around my house in the dark because I’m, you know, not a hoarder. Sometimes that just strikes me and I realize how happy I am.
June 6

Helpful hint: Taking the Motrin out of the cupboard isn’t enough. If you want to get rid of the headache, you must actually swallow a pill.
June 7

Margie says the houses in Eastlake remind her of confused ducks. Yes.
June 7

AMC just promised me nudity on Mad Men tonight. Sweet.
June 10

Three and a half hours of sleep. Yaaaaaaay. Bring on the typos and the drunklike face booking.
June 11

Elliott: “What’s decaf? Is it like spit?” Pretty much, yeah.
June 11

I made it until 6:17pm without even remembering that I’m running on 3 hours of sleep. But now the loopy has set in. Be prepared, internets.
June 11

You know what’s grossly underrepresented in geek culture circles? The Adventures of Baron Munchausen.
June 11

I’m sleeping like Edward Cullen again. *sigh*
June 13

Going to the library to see an alien from Betelgeuse. Wonder if she can set me up with Ford Prefect?
June 13

“I wish we could have a stone that we could see all our friends in and speak to them far away!” -Pippin <– Duh, it's called Skype.
June 13

Yarn Battle 2012 has begun. Again.
June 13

Yesterday Elliott turned to me and said, "But this is real, Mommy. I'm going into space someday." I am so screwed.
June 14

"The End" – Tolkien, Lord of the Rings. NOW what do I do with my life? Besides dissolve into a puddle of tears, I mean.
June 14

Dear Mother Earth, Thank you for arugula. And beets. And scallions. Love, Me
June 14

Watched the Brady Bunch pilot today with the kids and THE HOUSE WAS WRONG. It's like the entire show was a lie.
June 14

Watched some Heart and Souls clips on YouTube today to double check – yep Robert Downey Jr is totally hotter now.
June 15

The downside is that now I have "Walk Like a Man" stuck in my head for all eternity.
June 15

I have a printer. All I need is a baseball bat. <– Stabby.
June 15

Netflix, you have made me very stabby indeed. No one stands between me and my Hobbitses!
June 15

Did you know Blockbuster doesn't carry Lord of the Rings? WHY IS THE UNIVERSE KEEPING ME FROM THE HOBBITSES?
June 15

Watching Return of the King. I still hate spiders. That is all. #morenightmarestonight
June 16

No really. Hates the spiders.
June 16

You know what's dumb? 82 degrees.
June 17

I just stabbed my clothes-drying rack with my eyeball. Well, I didn't, actually. But I came close and it would have made a good tweet.
June 18

SHUT UP. VICTOR NEWMAN IS ROBIN SHERBATSKY'S DAD? Also, please note that I remembered his name even after 14+ years of not watching Y&R.
June 19

You know what's scary? Sleepwalking seven-year-olds with big wide eyes. Hold me.
June 20

When I grow up I wanna be Freya because she has an army of cats. Even as a goddess I'll wind up a crazy cat lady.
June 21

I woke up this morning and my internet and coffee pot were broken and I couldn't even tweet about it. It was traumatizing.
June 22

But srsly: WHY IS THE COFFEE POT BROKEN? IT'S BRAND-FUCKING-NEW. *cries*
June 22

UPDATE: The coffee pot randomly decided to turn on after all. The message learned from this? That fit-throwing accomplishes much, actually.
June 22

Elliott hates girl words such as "lovely" and "marvelous."
June 22

It's not cookies until I burn the cookies.
June 22

Fact: Vitacost just sent me an email that says, "It's not cute when Bonnie burps." SHOWS WHAT THEY KNOW. My burps are ADORABLE.
June 23

Selling the kids and running away to a deserted island. Or maybe Disneyland.
June 23

Captain America has taught me one important lesson: Hugo Weaving and Sam Neill are eyebrow twins.
June 23

Elliott woke me up this morning declaring there was a sleeping cat on the patio. I WAS SO GLAD that it was, in fact, merely asleep.
June 24

You would think that at some point in these 34 years I'd have learned how not to get sunburned. You would think that, but you'd be wrong.
June 24

Going to the bathroom between movies at the drive in is kind of like playing a deadly game of Frogger in the dark. Y u no drive slow??
June 24

Watching the extended scenes from Return of the King. There is a small possibility I might be slightly in love with Faramir.
June 27

You can tell its going to be a Thursday when there is more than one spider waiting for you in the shower.
June 28

Lately I've been obsessed, not with IMDB, but with Googling celebrity heights. Turns out Jurassic Park is filmed almost entirely w/ giants.
June 29

Going to Wicked tonight. Need to go find a green dress (but not a real green dress, that's cruel).
June 30

Wait. Do I have to wear a bra to the theatre?
June 30

They are not SHITTING YOU about lines for women's restrooms. Holy cow. Next time I'm going to the theatre as a man.
June 30

Luckily (?) they're blasting commercials in the bathrooms. Is nowhere sacred?
June 30








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