Best Maid Chocolate Chip Cookie

I bought this cookie at a local establishment (Tryst, to be exact), thinking it was house-made. Then, when I got home, I turned it over, and discovered it was Best Maid. That is, a prepackaged deal made in Wisconsin. I ate it anyway.

I've been having a hard time getting up the motivation to review this cookie because it was so mediocre.

Mediocre in flavor, uninspiring in texture, and average in cost (1.47¢ per gram), I think I'll just leave it at that.

Add this cookie to the "buy one if you're hungry" category, cause it's just food, not a treat.

The bottom line
Taste: 3 stars
Texture: 3 stars
Price: 3 stars

Safeway Chocolate Candy Cookies

Some of my favorite cookies come, surprisingly, not from any boutique bakery or fancy candy shop, but from the bakery department at supermarket chains. Take the white chocolate macadamia nut cookies from Giant.They are not big enough to warrant a Giant Cookie Review, but they are delicious beyond measure.

Recently, I discovered to my delight, that Safeway produces another of these delectable gems, at an even better price and a size (just barely) worthy of being called giant!

They are, as Safeway's label so eloquently describes them, "Cookies jumbo sugar," but they actually have a secret ingredient—M&M's! (or at least, the generic equivalent.)

Now, M&M's alone are not enough to make a cookie good, but combined with a decadent chewy texture and an almost unbelievable price, they are the glorious ingredient that makes good into amazing!

If you can't tell, I love these cookies! They might only be improved if they were a tad less sweet.

The price I mentioned is 5 dollars for a dozen, a dozen being 850 grams, and that means .59¢ per gram. Point five nine! By far the cheapest Giant Cookie around, and for their level of yumminess, definitely worth every .1 penny! I understand that the 5 dollar package was a special price, but even if the original price was double that, it would still be reasonable, for a giant cookie.

Win, win, win!

The Bottom Line:
Taste: 4 stars
Texture: 5 stars
Price: 5 stars

A look inside the tortured soul of a grammarian

My heart weeps. The bitterness of betrayal sits acrid in my throat. I have begun to suspect one of my favorite phrases to be...grammatically incorrect!

Just because ... doesn't mean....
I say this all the time. "Just because I'm beautiful doesn't mean I'm stupid," (one phrase I've sadly never had the opportunity to use) is one example of how a logical argument can be completely derailed by this construction. In this sentence (ignoring the "just" because it's unnecessary to the basic meaning), "because I'm beautiful" is a clause, meaning it contains a subject and verb that could stand alone as a sentence: "I'm beautiful." However, because the clause also contains a conjunction ("because"), it cannot stand on its own—it is a dependent clause, meaning it must be attached to another clause.

"Doesn't mean I'm stupid" is not a clause, though. It's a compound predicate, lacking only a subject. The solution to this limitation seems simple enough: add an "it" to the beginning, and voila! You have a sentence - "It doesn't mean I'm stupid" - usable in this case as the independent clause to which our dependent clause must adhere.

"Just because I'm beautiful, it doesn't mean I'm stupid" becomes our finished product. But wait. There's still something wrong with that!

As we all know, "it" is a pronoun, and all pronouns must refer back to a noun (or phrase that acts as a noun). So what is "it" referring to in this sentence? Well, "it" could be just a general catch-all for "the general state of things," but that's really just a cop-out. Typically when you say "It doesn't mean..." you are referring directly back to a stated fact—e.g. "I am beautiful. It doesn't mean I'm stupid." Or, to put it all in one sentence, "I am beautiful, but it doesn't mean I'm stupid."

That sentence works, but that "because" in the first clause of our original example sure messes things up! While "I am beautiful" is an independent clause, "because I am beautiful" is a dependent one. It's an incomplete idea and can't be considered a stated fact. It is more a fact in progress.

So how can we use it and still have a coherent sentence? We can't. The best compromise I can come up with is "Just being beautiful doesn't mean I'm stupid," but that leaves out our beloved "just because." Or then there's "Just because I'm beautiful, I don't have to be stupid," but that leaves out the "doesn't mean." And without one or the other of those phrases, the sentence loses a good bit of its punch.

What a dilemma! What's a grammarian to do?

Apparently, I'm not alone in my pain, judging from the several discussions that turn up in a Google search for 'language "just because" "doesn't mean."' Unfortunately, no one seems to have a definitive answer for me. Ergo, I've decided the only recourse is to lock myself in the basement and write gothic poetry. Without any punctuation.

On the plus side, I've said "I'm beautiful" enough times in this post to make up for never being able to say it in real life!

Search and Self

One day at work, I happened to notice that the Google search box in my browser had stored a list of all my recent searches, and I could actually pull it down and see them all at once! I realized my Google search history gives a pretty accurate view into what I value and what I think about, since whenever a thought pops into my head, my first response is usually to search on it. I thought it would be kind of fun to document, officially, all the very eclectic things I think about on the job. Being the dedicated worker that I am, I laboriously typed out the entire 95-item list (if any of you know where to access your Firefox search history in readable format, now's no longer the time to speak up!) and set about bringing it to order.

In case you were wondering what I do at the office all day (or at least the parts of it when I'm Googling), read on!

Of my last 95 searches at work, I am proud to say that most of them (er, 52) were work-related—and therefore mostly boring. Eighteen of them were related to troubleshooting our website (and therefore extremely boring), but among the work-related searches, a few of them stood out as slightly amusing.

• Doctorate vs. Doctoral - Yes, even as a Web developer, I'm still fixated on the intricacies of English. I was trying to find out which word I should use to categorize the degree programs offered by my college. Turns out the two words are basically synonyms, and either one is acceptable.
• Windows Desktop Folder Gone - I highlight this query in particular, although there were several similar ones, just to illustrate that, no matter where I go or what computer I use, there are always 101 things wrong with my computer. Since starting my job, I've dealt with the user desktop folder disappearing (and a whole barrage of error messages related to that), being unable to install an antivirus program, having Windows Task Scheduler repeatedly conk out and have to be recreated, and, well, if there were other problems, I'd rather not think about them. Sigh. I spend far too much of my working time trying to get my computer working.
• And now for my personal favorite: Platypus - This search occurred when I was seized with the sudden need to identify this strange-looking creature, which was one of many photos in the "Animals Pack" I was using as filler fluff for our demo website.
  
  After searching for "platypus," I realized that's definitely what it was not, but I still am not sure what it is! (I think it's a penguin.)

My non-work-related searches are much more diverse.

•  At least a few of them could be classified as work-related as well, such as altitude sickness (which I was investigating as a possible cause of my illness while in Denver for work) and great web design, which I have to do both at home and at work (although I think this search was inspired by a personal project). 
• Several of them were for the greater cause of blogging, especially clause vs phrase (for a grammar post that is so convoluted I'm not sure I'm ever going to publish it) horseshoe crabs and wall (a simile to be used in an allusion that was, as the search revealed, too obscure to publish) "Painter pants," an apparent misnomer I'd been using for wide-leg pants, and standing side crunch, which is the only searched term that actually made it into a post. 
• A few searches were for the greater cause of fashion, such as convert 84 cm to inches, which I had to do when determining whether a certain article of clothing I wanted to buy would fit me. I concluded it would, and consequently, you will probably see it on The Unfashionista sooner or later.
• The last are a few single-word searches, most of which were simply to verify a definition:
• geometrician - Yes, it is a real word (even though my spell check says otherwise), and some day I will use it in a really brilliant joke. (You know you're never going to make it as a comedian when you have to plan your jokes months or years in advance.)
• petulant and vagary - Don't know why I was looking up these words, and I still don't remember what vagary means! I guessed it might be some sort of synonym for "vagueness," but I don't think it was. My memory on this matter in general is a little vague.
• Once upon a time, I knew my heart couldn't rest unless it could find out why people sometimes call Buffalo Wild Wings "BW3's," even though there are only two W's in Buffalo Wild Wings. Turns out, according to their corporate website, that they used to be called Buffalo Wild Wings and Weck—and a Google search for "weck" naturally ensued. It's some kind of roll with seeds on it. Like a kaiser roll, but with a funnier name.
• "The -  Another classic case of typing in the wrong text box. Enough said.
• Tucks - I brought sewing supplies into work one day, to hang up my giant stuffed giraffe (because naturally no office is complete without a giant stuffed giraffe), and while looking at the little round green case that holds my needles, which I inherited from my mom and probably her mom before her, I began to wonder what the "Tucks® carrying case" label on it represented. By searching Google, I learned I'm carrying around my needles in a hemorrhoid wipes package! I turned it face down on my desk after that.

This concludes my Google Search History lesson. I hope it has given you great insight into my life, and life of mind. What does your search history say about you?

Oohhs & Aahhs Macaroni

I don't think I even took a photo of the macaroni I got from Oohhs and Aahhs, which is too bad, because it was one of the best macaronis I've reviewed to date.

Like all the best food establishments, Oohhs and Aahhs was a cramped little hole in the wall where you ordered your food at a counter. They had a dining area upstairs, but we got our food to go, and I don't even know if they had reusable plates or cutlery.

After an initial snafu in which we carried someone else's fish curry all the way home before realizing we'd gotten the wrong order, we succeeded in getting our food.

I was a little disappointed at the size of my macaroni and cheese, but it ended up being enough to spread out over two meals--it's just that carry-out containers are so compact.

It's also probably worth mentioning that the green beans were much too soft for my liking, but I gather that's how "soul food" green beans go. It's probably also worth mentioning that my browser crashed while I was browsing their website. Coincidence? Maybe, but the website wasn't very user-friendly.

I rate this macaroni (and the restaurant it came from): 2 happy noodles for delicious, one sad noodle for the technical difficulties.

 

Social Skills--who needs 'em!?

When asked, "What is one thing you would change about yourself?" I usually say, "I would like to be better at making friends." Despite being sweet and agreeable and likeable, I am very bad at this.

At work, I marvel at how easily my coworkers interact with each other, while I usually cower in my office pretending not to hear them chatter. I made a vow to myself that I would try harder to be more outgoing. I would start simply, by merely taking a more proactive approach to greeting people. When I saw people I knew, I would say hello, rather than ducking into whatever nearby haven of solitude, wondering if my presence  had gone undetected. Yet, after a day, I realized that even this little baby step was beyond my capabilities, as I just have no idea of the protocol to follow in varying situations.

When you run into someone and you both see each other, you say hi. That's easy. But what happens when this simple scenario becomes more complex?

• When two people you know are standing next to your building talking, do you interrupt their conversation to say hi to them?
  
• When you first arrive at the office for the day, do you say hello to every person whose door you pass? What if two doors are on opposite sides of the hallway? Do you stop, turn to each side and say hi to both?
  
• When someone you know is shouting distance away when you arrive, but they aren't looking at you, do you shout hello or just slip in like a thief? What does your shout signify to the other people who are within shouting distance but hidden by walls?

Is it even worth worrying about this any more?

My boyfriend, master of perception, observed that I don't talk much at parties. This is because I don't know who to talk to. The person on my left? The person on my right? The room at large? The aforementioned boyfriend typically chooses the third option, and often his off-the-wall comments go completely ignored, because the room at large is busy talking to the person on its left or right.

My unheeded yet unperturbed boyfriend says it's fine if I just show up, do the meet and greet, and read a book, leaving other people the option to approach me if they want. I would love it if I could do that, but I think it's just too rude. But being unable to do pretty much anything else, I mainly just don't go to parties.


After nearly 29 years of experience, you'd think I would have learned a little about interaction, but nope. That awkward girl who spent hours at day care leaning against the wall, watching the other kids play, is now the one, slightly taller now, leaning against the wall and watching the other people converse.

Maybe this year is the turning point.

No, not the one where I suddenly learn to be Miss Popular—I think that's a lost cause. I'm talking about the point at which I can I can finally stop worrying, throw up my hands and say, "All right! I'm socially inept! Deal with it!" Maybe I will just walk into a gathering carrying a book, read in a corner, and consider myself a success. I may never be the life of the party, but Librarian of the Party is a role I can handle.

Two cookie reviews: Larry's Chocolate Chip Pecan, and Busch Gardens dipped cookie

I had another opportunity to visit Larry's Cookies at the Old Post Office Pavilion, and I am happy to report that they really are $8.99 a pound, as I came to doubt in my last review. I purchased two more cookies on that visit—a chocolate chip pecan cookie and a multi-layered brownie. The brownie was truly amazing, but since it was a bar and not a giant cookie, I'll review the chocolate chip pecan one instead.

The texture did not disappoint, being firm enough to hold together, but soft enough to pass the crumble test.

Sadly, I wasn't all that taken with the flavor. Maybe it was because I ate it in a half-asleep stupor, or maybe it was because my olfactory receptors had taken a time-out as they sometimes do, but I just didn't experience that moment of bliss I was hoping for.

The cookie was good enough, but it definitely didn't compare to the white chocolate cranberry cookie I enjoyed on my previous visit.

Giant dipped cookie from Busch Gardens.

I really dropped the ball on this cookie, neglecting to pay any attention to its cost or to its weight—which is why I'm just tacking it on at the end of the Larry's Cookie review.

It is no surprise that the appeal of a giant cookie dipped in white chocolate and M&M's lies not in its taste but in its novelty value. I didn't expect much of this cookie, and I didn't get much.

It didn't have a lot of flavor, and its texture was just mediocre—that is, a little crunchy and a little soft. Of course, biting into the layer of creamy coating and yummy chocolate candies was fun, and filling, but I would never vote this cookie into my hall of fame.

As I said, I didn't notice the price, but considering I had to pay a 50 dollar admission fee just to be in a position to buy it (and that was after a discount), I would not say that it is the most cost-effective cookie out there.

The bottom line: Buy this cookie as a souvenir for a friend, but don't go all the way  to Busch Gardens just to partake of this gastronomic pleasure!

Here's another sight I saw on my bike ride today.

Google says it's a painted turtle. I actually stopped for this one, unlike all my moving pictures from yesterday's post.

And then when I was done sticking my butt up in the air to the likely amusement of the passing cyclist whose shadow you can see extending across the path in the background, I removed the sight to the other side of the path, since I felt like he was in a hazardous location.

I love turtles. They're my favorite type of animal to rescue, since you know there's almost no chance of them biting you while you're only trying to help.

Not the case with spiders, of which I found a gigantic one in my bathtub when I got home. I got out a jar and hoped it wasn't a jumping spider. It wasn't. I put it outside.

Glad you have stopped by to read this disjointed account of my afternoon. Thanks, and keep your eyes open for the exciting sights life brings!

Bike Ride

I rode my bike to work on Bike to Work Day. In fact, I ride my bike to work every day except when it's raining in the morning (and also when it's below 45 degrees out). And it is awesome.

Some downsides are showing up to the office sweating all over yourself, and having to carry extra clothes because you just can't bike in long skirts or heels, but the upsides are so many more! Whether you normally drive or take public transportation, in case you were on the fence about biking to work, here are a few of the top reasons why you should do it!

• Get your daily exercise and commute at the same time
• Rush hour doesn't slow you down
• You can ignore traffic lights whenever they inconvenience you
• No driver's tans
• Run on your own schedule, not the bus's
• Eliminate all the time wasted walking to the bus stop and waiting for the bus
• No parking costs
• No car maintenance costs
• The scenery

The following are a few of the sights I see on my ride back home from work.
 

I get to pass by beautiful flowing streams, through wooded glades, beside amazing wetland habitats, across quaint bridges, and even over a boardwalk!

To be fair, this is the longer of two routes between work and home. If I want to take the short way, I have to mostly travel suburban streets and a few harrowing intersections. The second, while longer, is just as fast thanks to two fewer street crossings--and it's exquisitely scenic and ends on a downhill slope instead of an uphill like the other one!

Even on the days when I'm completely worn out from the gym and can barely pedal up the hill to Baltimore Ave., I still appreciate the aesthetics of my bike ride home. In case you're curious, here it is!

It would be less painful if I just hired a career counselor.

Sometimes, I think that men only come into my life to give me a push in the right direction--frequently a career direction. Once they have sufficiently advanced my skills, interests, or prospects, they are gone.

My first two boyfriends didn't do much in this respect, except maybe to get me used to having boyfriends, so that when future boyfriends came along, I would be open to their influential effects.

My third boyfriend, though he probably didn't even know it (That was you, Geoff. Thanks), played a significant role in me going into Web design. Although, by the time I met him, I had already dabbled a little bit in HTML, he had dabbled more. I was so impressed by the stuff he had made on the Internet, I knew I had to get better at it! Maybe I wanted to impress him a little in return. But that was to no avail. Before long, he was gone.

My fourth love interest of non-boyfriend status was a software developer. He was technically a Java guy, but since his company's product was delivered over the Web, he necessarily spent a lot of time creating front-end stuff in HTML. He is the one who taught me how to write and test my own JavaScript code, which I loved almost as much as I loved him. Until he was gone.

My fifth guy, of unofficial boyfriend status, came into my life and promptly attempted to be me. I showed him the basics of HTML, and he became obsessed and bought books and books on web development (function, not form). He spent hours ceaselessly working on these bloated sites that had lots of techy features and looked awful. I was offended because he was encroaching on my domain (and had in fact overshadowed my scripting abilities), so I attempted to uphold my status by creating sites that didn't look awful. At that time, I was studying Publications Design. From him, I mainly learned to hold myself to higher design standards and not just create useless things because I could. As you can probably guess, we had a pretty strained relationship. But soon he was gone.

Six and Seven probably would have had some influence on my life choices, except that neither would commit to anything, so I kind of bounced back and forth between them for about a year. They were completely at odds with each other in terms of career-and-lifestyle effect, thus concurrently canceling each other out.

The one who finally did get through to me with job advice was my eighth love interest and fourth (and current) official boyfriend. When I met him, I was run ragged by my two low-paying jobs, whereas he worked a flexible schedule, could work from home once a week and take a day off every two weeks, was paid 60-some thousand dollars a year for 40 hours a week, and got paid vacations and sick time. And he still complained. Compared to my work, his was heaven. If heaven wasn't good enough for him, then I really had it bad. He encouraged me to apply for jobs with the government, and so I did. I ended up with a job in state government, which is not quite the same as his federal job, but still comes with a lot of the benefits I sought.

Now that I am stably employed and unlikely to go back to the world of two part-time jobs, it looks like my boyfriend's work here is done. He just recently got a job offer in California. Figures. He's served his purpose as career advisor for Valerie, and if the past is any indication, the next logical step is for him to soon be gone. I wish it were not so, but what you wish and what you get are so rarely the same in the world of love and the lack thereof.

Carol's Cookies: Chocolate Chip

Every cookie company has a chocolate chip cookie, and for this review, I'm reviewing Carol's Cookies. You may recall I reviewed her Toffee Crunch a while back, and while I found it (not surprisingly) crunchy beyond my tastes, I gave it mad props for its price.

The chocolate chip cookie in this line is equally cheap (and I happened to buy it on sale for a deal that makes the original 5 star rating look puny) and just as flavorful.

In fact, the buttery flavor was even stronger in this cookie than in the toffee crunch. It was so buttery that I (who prefer the taste of margarine over butter) kind of wished it were taken down a notch.

Texture-wise, these seemed even crunchier than their toffee-crunch counterparts. Or at least, on my first crumble test, a significant chunk of the cookie did fly across the room. They did, however, have a gritty sugary texture that I associate with raw dough, and thus find quite pleasing.

On the whole, while some aspects of this cookie were better than the toffee crunch variety, others were worse, and I feel that, with chocolate chip cookies abounding as they do, I'm certain I can get a better one elsewhere.

The Bottom Line:
Taste: 4 stars
Texture: 3 stars
Price: 5 stars

Name That Rabbit

My rabbit's vet appointment was postponed til Thursday, but I'll announce his name today anyway, just as promised.

Fireworks poised? Marching band at the ready? Can I have a drumroll, please?

My rabbit's name is Hansel. After a week of contemplation, a more fitting name I cannot find.

At the time of my last post, the other two candidate names were Apollo and Sparky. Apollo was considered because lately I have an obsession with ancient Greek names. If my rabbit had been a girl, he would have been named Andromeda, but since he is not, Apollo was the next best choice. A choice, however, that didn't last, since my fluffy little bunny with his liquid brown eyes just couldn't live up to the tough, manly connotations of a name like Apollo.

Sparky made it into the runnings, because for the first couple of days, every time I looked at him, that was the name that popped into my head. However, it never quite sat right, and it stopped popping into my head once I lit on Hansel.

It was shortly after I reluctantly admitted that Apollo wasn't going to cut it that I started actively trying to think of alternate names. Real people names that are slightly less common than Joe and Bob. My philosophy has always been, if you can't have ancient Greek, you might as well take German instead! So Hansel came after brief consideration of Friedrich and just plain Hans.

Originally this name was chosen simply because it was less dog-like than Sparky and more innocent than Apollo, being mainly associated with a child in a fairy tale. However, as I thought more about the name, I realized it worked on several more levels.

Hansel, brother to Gretel, is perhaps best known for demolishing a good portion of a gingerbread house (and we're talking life-size gingerbread house, here, not one you put on your mantel at Christmas) with no other weapon than his teeth. Rabbits are also well known for their teeth--specifically, their penchant for embedding them in anything and everything they can reach. One of the early names I considered for my orally fixated pet was "Boca," the Spanish word for "mouth," but I decided that word was too feminine. Hansel, then, does due credit to this trait without emasculating its named.

Hmmm, not as good as gingerbread, but I guess I can make do.

Hansel the fairy tale character's second claim to fame is being the originator of the "breadcrumb trail," which actually failed to get him and his sister home (so it is quite ironic that this phrase is used to denote the trail of links at the top of web pages to help you get back to where you came from). However, before Hansel was reduced to marking his path home with such fleeting markers as food, he used pebbles, which worked without a hitch. Thus Hansel is revealed to be a clever, spunky boy, as my rabbit certainly is (You should see the way he evades my efforts to herd him into his cage when he's out).

But the true genius of this name wasn't revealed until I read this Facebook comment from my father:

I think in consideration of the fate from which you have saved the rabbit, that you should name it Stew!

In case you are a little rusty on your Brothers Grimm, Hansel of the story was imprisoned by a witch, and held in a cage to fatten him up in preparation of cooking him in...what could be loosely interpreted as a stew! And just like my rabbit, Hansel was saved from this fate by a beautiful, genius female—me! OK, in the story, it was his sister's quick thinking that was responsible for his escape, not a series of changes of ownership as in the case of my Hansel, but still there are quite enough similarities to justify his name.

Next step: Teaching him to answer to it!

Cottontail Tale

Ever since the resident cat in our house was shuffled off to the sunny South, I've had a vague yearning in my heart for a pet.

My upstairs housemate's dog is, with his begging and farting and habit of tossing my garbage all over my room, actually worse than no pet at all.

Last Thanksgiving, I visited my boyfriend's friend's apartment, which was inhabited by an enormous lop-eared rabbit. When I saw the rabbit wandering freely around the house, just like any cat would do (to my astonishment—I had previously believed that rabbits lived in cages and that was that), a rabbit became the new pet of my dreams.

But still I waited. I didn't want to risk getting another animal that would hate the dog as much as the last cat hated him.

But as the Law of Attraction and my former landlord state (in approximate terms), when you want something, it will come to you.

I visited some former coworkers last Sunday and found a rabbit grazing in their backyard. One of them had acquired it despite a "NO PETS" policy (capital letters and all) on their lease agreement. Without relating the whole boring story of the discussion among housemates I witnessed, regarding this new addition to their household, I am still sure you can guess how the rabbit came to be mine.

I brought him home with very few supplies and even less information. I spent that first evening reading about rabbit care on the Internet. I had no idea where he had come from, how old he was, or whether he had ever been to a vet. I later learned that he had been raised for food (food! He is the friendliest rabbit I ever met! How could anyone want to eat him!?) so I doubt he's been neutered. My first action as a rabbit owner was to buy a bag of hay for him to eat. My second will be to take him to a veterinarian.

When I got him, he was living outside (bad, because rabbits need socialization and a safe haven from predators) in a dog crate (bad as well, since the sides of the tray are not high enough to keep any kind of litter within it) with a vegetable crate inside it for shelter. He came with no food bowl or water bottle, and no food either, since his new owners had just been feeding him vegetable scraps from the store where they work. I've rigged up some supplies from the thrift store and around the house, but he definitely needs a better home, and soon.

For exercise, I'm letting him run around on my screened-in porch in the evenings, but I want to housetrain him.

When the bunny first arrived, I thought the dog was going to die of excitement, but over the past few days, he has calmed down to just mild curiosity. The two met face-to-face today and handled themselves gracefully, but for one overeager bark.

My third action as a rabbit owner is going to be to give him a new name. His name was Red, but he had only been Red for a couple of days, so I figure he won't mind another small change. I've been waiting years to be able to name something after all, and I'm not going to miss out on that opportunity! I have a list of three candidate names, and I promise to have selected one of them by his vet appointment on Tuesday.

Wendy's Macaroni and Cheese

A few weeks ago, my father, a regular reader of this blog and well aware of my MacaroniQuest, sent me a link to an article announcing that Wendy's (a hamburger joint I stopped eating at after I became a vegetarian) was going to begin serving macaroni and cheese! Obviously I'm not the only one who thinks macaroni is a newsworthy subject.

I had my opportunity to try it out yesterday, when my boyfriend and I, looking for lunch after a long arduous shopping trip, found ourselves sharing a parking lot with a Wendy's.

The macaroni and cheese wasn't listed on the menu, although there was a huge sign proclaiming its availability as a "signature" side dish. Always the side dish, never the bride, is my macaroni. Since my boyfriend paid, I didn't notice the price, although the article states it is "around" $2.49.

It's been a long time since I've been to Wendy's, and their Frosty offerings have also expanded considerably since then. From nothing more than chocolate soft serve, Frostys now come in chocolate and vanilla, plus several flavors of shakes and parfaits! We couldn't resist ordering a strawberry shortcake parfait, which was about as good as you can expect from a fast food restaurant, but... this is about the macaroni! Sorry for the digression!

The macaroni I received was plenty to satisfy my appetite, and with our total meal coming to a little under 8 dollars (the BF ordered chili cheese fries, one of the other two signature sides), I have to say you can't beat the price.

There was real shredded cheese on top of my macaroni, and gooey cheese sauce under that. The noodles were big. If I have one complaint, it was that the noodles were much too soft—rather along the lines of the mushy noodles that come in minestrone soup, which I never eat. It's probably worth noting that the chili cheese fries were soupy.

I give the meal a happy noodle for finally finding something I like at a hamburger restaurant, another happy noodle for the real cheese topping, and a big ol' sad noodle for the mushy pasta.

 

Ben & Jerry's cookies revisited

A little bit ago, I stopped by a Ben & Jerry's shop to get three scoops of ice cream for three dollars. While I was there, I simply had to indulge in one of the cookies that were displayed so temptingly by the register.

As you recall, I reviewed Ben & Jerry's cookies back in April, and found them wonderful in almost every way. This time, however, I met quite a disappointment.

I chose the white chocolate macadamia nut cookie again, and my first bite failed the crumble test in a big, messy way. The cookie was so crunchy I could barely get my teeth through it. Since my first experience with Ben & Jerry's cookies was so good, I have to assume this is an unfortunate case of overcooking, but at the very least, it tells me Ben & Jerry's quality control is questionable.

I must therefore revise my rating to:
Taste: 3 stars
Texture: 1 star

As an aside, in my last Ben & Jerry's post, I claimed that there was another brand name mentioned on the cookie display. But on my last two visits to Ben & Jerry's, I have seen no such thing. I'm afraid Ben & Jerry are going to have to take full responsibility for this travesty.

Working in Working out While Working

For the past couple of years, my weight (as measured at the doctor's office) has been a consistent 132 pounds. Winter, summer, spring, fall, it never varied. It's not a bad weight to be at—smack dab in the middle of the "healthy" range for my height—but I wouldn't want to get any fatter.

So naturally, when I first accepted my full-time job as a Web developer, my biggest concern was, "Am I going to get fat?" After all, my previous job had me on my feet, walking, lifting, and staying in some degree of motion for my entire 6-8 hour day, and my future job was going to mostly entail sitting at a desk for 8 and a half hours.

Plus, I'd read some horrible things about the health hazards of prolonged sitting (much more insidious than just getting fat)! Fortunately, fear is a great motivator, and within my first week of work, I had established an exercise regimen to keep me safe from sedentariness.

Once an hour, I make sure I get up and engage in some fitness activity for a full minute. This gets my blood pumping (and resulted in me having sore muscles every day for the first 2 months!) but 8 minutes of exercise every day is not enough to counteract the effects of adding 8 hours of non-exercise and an extra meal (sitting still is so boring, I absolutely cannot concentrate unless I eat at least every 3 hours), so I also increased the intensity of my daily exercise-bike ride (this lasted until I broke the console a few weeks ago—now I'm forced to bike at a roughly moderate intensity as established by a stick wedged into the resistance mechanism), and I ride my bike to and from work (15 minutes each way) whenever I can.

When the weather is nice enough for me to bike to work and I don't have to run errands or have any number of other excuses, I also use the free-to-staff gym across campus (I only do this on bike days because walking there alone would take 15 minutes, and catching the bus afterward would be an incredible pain), where I clock a whopping 10 minutes on the treadmill, at least 4 of them running (!) (Ok, jogging), and then hit the weight machines to work all the upper body muscles that I have trouble exercising without equipment.

After almost 5 months of this routine, I went to the doctor and stepped on the scale, which read 132 pounds! Apparently I'm nothing if not consistent. Although I'd like to say I became a well toned goddess from my new workout regimen, I guess I'll settle for not having developed a pot belly.

In case you'd like to experience the same kind of success lack of failure, here are some exercises you can do with nothing more than 5 square feet of open space (and either an absence of shame, or a closed door). All you must do is keep each one up for a whole minute. I usually count 60 seconds and then continue until the next multiple-of-10th repetition, cause I'm a little OCD.

• Push ups (I'm up to 10 real ones in a row, followed by 20 girly ones!)
• High Kicks (a la the Rockettes)
  
• Side Kicks (a la Chuck Norris)
  
• Back Kicks (a la nothing you've ever seen before because they look pretty dumb)
• Squats
• Skater squats
• Planks (I usually do the arm-raising variation of this, because there is nothing more boring than balancing on your knees and hands for 60 seconds)
• Relevés (a la a ballerina, but not all the way up!)
  
• Jogging in place
• Standing side crunches
  
• Lunges
• Glute sweeps (They really do exist; I just couldn't find any pictures or videos!)

Accentuating the Positive

Funny, for all my reputation as a cheerful person, I've mostly filled this blog with lists of things that annoy me. Of course, if you read often enough, you've probably gathered there are some things I adore, such as Giant Cookies, macaroni and cheese, and a well crafted sentence.

But today I'd like to do what I should have done long ago and compile some of my greatest loves in a real list, giving them the recognition they so richly deserve!

Little Doors

By this I mean doors to utility closets, attic crawlspaces, and the like—doors that would be just the right size for a dwarf, but laughably short and tantalizingly mysterious to a human of average height. What do they conceal? Surely behind them is a mysterious adventure of fantastic proportions!

Emotional Overload Music

It's no secret that I'm obsessed with music, but certain types of it stand a cut (or octave, get it!?) above the rest—specifically, songs that sound deliriously blissful and unfathomably sad at the same time. Songs like Jonas Steur's Simple Pleasures (Like all good trance, it runs long, so skip to 3 minutes if you want to get to the meat of it right away—and for your ears' sake, turn down the volume! I've never heard such a loud recording!). If anyone asked me what being in love feels like, I would play them this song—but they never do. A few years ago, Sundawner's Krystal Dreams (Marcus L. Remix) filled this role for me, so it wouldn't hurt you to try that one as well. I can't believe that this, one of my favorite songs, hasn't yet been featured in my blog!

Falling in Love

Sure, heart-stopping music is a good substitute, but there's no thing like the real thing. And that's all I have to say about that.

CSS Layouts

I only have one shirt that says I ♥ anything, and that's CSS. If you are not a Web geek, you might not even know what CSS is, but if you are, you know that it's the language that describes how things look on the Web. CSS is that magical language that combines two of my favorite things: written syntactical language, and pretty designs!

Chemical Pleasures

Some people turn to nicotine or liquor to give them their fix; all I have to do is sniff a band-aid. Or open a new inflatable water toy. There's something about plasticizers that just makes my heart melt. Also, probably my brain cells.

The Wrong Side

Have you ever looked at a tapestry or a bit of brocade...from the back? It is almost invariably prettier than the front. The colors are inverted, and what on the front looks like tiny detailed patterns, on the back shows up in wide blocks of pure color. And I love me some color! This picture is a pretty good example.

Spring Mill Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies

It doesn't feel good to be dropping $6.50 on a bag of 5 cookies, but it sure feels good to be eating them! The cookies I'm talking about are Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies from Spring Mill Bread.

Spring Mill Bread Co. is one of my favorite sources of Giant Cookies, and had been for many years before I started this blog theme. They are a local company, so if you don't live around DC, you will sadly be deprived of their delectable treats, but if you come to the capital for a visit, you should definitely give them a try. As a bonus, most of their locations are inside Mom's Organic Market stores, MOM being another great local company that you must experience while you're in town!

But enough evangelizing my favorite small businesses, let's talk about cookies!

You'll notice that only four cookies appear in this photo of cookies which
ostensibly are sold in a 5-pack. Well, this discrepancy reflects the author's
raging need to consume cookies as soon as they arrive in her house.

These oatmeal chocolate chip cookies always hit the spot. In addition to being wonderfully chewy, with just the right amount of oatmeal for texture, they are studded with bits of chocolate for an addictive flavor! This company makes oatmeal raisin cookies, too, and they surprisingly make oatmeal raisin cookies taste almost desirable!

You can buy a 5-pack of these cookies for $6.50, which feels like a lot, until you do the math and realize you're only paying 1.45¢ a gram—definitely on the cheaper end of the Giant Cookie spectrum. Of course, if you buy them individually, they're a little bit more, but what kind of crazy person wants only one cookie anyway!?

The Bottom Line:
Taste: 5 stars
Texture: 5 stars
Price: 4 stars

Problematicalistication

Every so often, Li'l Language Lady is wrong (and I'm not talking about the controversial way she spells "little").


The last time this happened was several months ago. I've been so humiliated by my failure that I haven't been able to talk about it until now. Please be patient; this could be difficult for me.

It all began one pleasant morning in February, when I attended a webinar in which the presenter – twice – said the word "problematical." Well, I put on my Condescending Cap, thinking to myself the clever way I would address this crime in my blog: "The only thing problematical about this is it isn't actually a word! The proper adjective form of the noun problem is problematic."

It's a good thing I consulted a dictionary before spewing my ignorant bombast all over the Internet (by the way, have we reached the point where we don't have to capitalize that word yet?), because Dictionary.com and Webster both confirmed that "problematical" is a synonym of "problematic."

But if this is the case, then I must wonder (after I exhume my face from my hands), how many suffixes can we add to a word before it stops being a real word? Why are -ic and -ical semantically identical? If I use enough grandiloquent words, can I redeem myself for wrongfully taking on airs?

At another time, I might research the answers to those questions, but today, I shall just leave you with this open end.

Grandma's Macaroni and Cheese - Val's Galore Style

If you recall, one of my favorite parts of my childhood was fresh home-microwaved macaroni and cheese from Stouffer's. However, even more favorite than that savory ambrosia was the oven-baked macaroni and cheese my grandma used to make.

It was so rich and chewy and hearty, not liquidy like the Stouffer's stuff! Although in my youth, I had a reputation for eating "like a bird," I have recollections of coming back for seconds when Grandma's macaroni and cheese was served.

I have the recipe, but I cannot review Grandma's Macaroni and Cheese in its purest form, because I'm always messing with the recipe.

The original called for 11 oz. of cheese—I'm pretty sure that was American cheese, but since I hate American cheese on its own, I can't seem to bring myself to buy it for a recipe, and I definitely can't get excited about the thought of peeling 16 individual slices of semisolid cow byproducts out of their wasteful plastic shrouds. So I use cheddar or Amish yogurt cheese or a mix of both, and since those do not come in 11-oz packages, I'm always obliged to guess. I suppose I could use a scale, but that's not the Adventure in Cooking way. The "real" cheeses give this recipe a real fat-separation problem, and I'm never sure whether I'm going to end up with too little cheese or too much (OK, honestly, there is no such thing).

Although not explicitly specified in my recipe, I'm sure the original was produced using white flour noodles and real milk with some fat in it. When I make mine, I use whole wheat noodles, because I like to offset my mountain of cholesterol with a little bit of fiber, and powdered nonfat milk.

Lastly, while the recipe says to cook it for an hour at 350°F, I consistently burn the top when I cook it that long. Last time I started it when the oven was still heating up, at around 250 degrees, and cooked it for 50 minutes, which seemed to work.

When Grandma made this recipe, it was happy noodles all across the board, but when I make it, the texture's a little off, it's usually not salty enough, and it's frequently burned, so the low rating here should not surprise anyone.

I estimate this recipe to cost around 6 dollars for all the ingredients, divided by 4 servings – make that 3 restaurant-size servings – and it comes out to 2$ a serving. Definitely a winner when it comes to price.

All in all, I give it one happy noodle for the price, one happy noodle for old-times' sake, and 2 sad noodles for all the things that go wrong.

And here's the recipe, in case you think you can do it better than me:

Grandma's Macaroni and Cheese

Ingredients
1& 1/3 c. uncooked macaroni
1½ Tbsp butter
1½ Tbsp. flour
1 c. milk
11 oz. cheese

Cook noodles.
Melt butter. Stir in flour until bubbly.
Add milk. Stir til flour thickens slightly.
Break up cheese into mix. Stir til melted.
Add salt and pepper to taste.
Pour over noodles in greased casserole dish.
Bake 1 hr. at 350° uncovered.