BGR Chocolate Chunk Cookie

 
My boyfriend was sweet enough to pick up a Giant Cookie for me one rare day last week when we were not together. He got it at BGR: the Burger Joint. Because it's never polite to ask how much someone paid for a gift, I didn't ask. So I will be unable to assess its value, but read on for a review of its edibility.

Weirdly, but appropriately I guess, it tasted like a burger. Although each bite was good in itself, I detected a note of char in the back of my throat once I had finished swallowing. This may have been a fluke, because (fortunately) I only noticed this during the first few bites. After that, it became your average chocolate chip cookie, complete with at least 2 different varieties of chocolate! Yay!

Texture-wise, it was a little crumblier and messier than I prefer, but in the middle, it was chewy goodness, and the crumbly bits didn't negatively affect my chewing experience, and that's what counts!

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

NoShavember

In case you've been living in a cave and haven't noticed, it's NoShavember, also known as Movember, during which men proudly sport mustaches (Movember) or allow all their facial hair to grow unchecked (NoShavember) (If you've been living in a cave, this is probably every month for you, so I don't blame you for not noticing). Ostensibly, this is done to raise awareness of various forms of cancer*, but in practice, I think it is more of an excuse to gleefully neglect shaving for a month and/or prove one's manliness by sprouting a bush on one's jaw, and the cancer card is just convenient to reach for when someone criticizes it.

My boyfriend is an avid participant in this sport cause, despite his less than stellar ability to grow facial hair. I have to say that in the last week of the month, he still resembles nothing so much as a dog with the mange. When he was just starting to look scruffy in the first week of the contest campaign, I told him, "I'm going to stop shaving for November, too!"

His response was, "NO!" Imagine the most horrified no a person could utter—the kind of no you might say if I offered to cut off your finger—and that's the no that came out of his mouth. If my boyfriend has one fault, it's that he has very parochial views on female beauty...but to his credit, he didn't break up with me when I did it anyway.

My reasons for refusing to shave in November are not so much based on cancer awareness (as I feel that not shaving is a kind of misguided way to support a cause, especially when there's no incentive to learn more about the disease or donate to research efforts or whatever, but since I brought it up, here's the Movember Foundation's donate page), and it's certainly not out of a spirit of competition (the last thing I want is to be known for having copious body hair), but it's pure and simple because of that vehement "NO!"

What do you mean, no? Don't I have a right to choose whether I shave or not? You bet I do, and I'm not going to!

It annoys me that society as a whole is so ardently opposed to body hair on women. It's ridiculous that hair on our legs is considered "gross" (like, on a par with "unsanitary") while the same stuff on men's legs is considered OK. And the same stuff on our heads is considered required (god forbid a woman ever shave her head—the world even freaks out every time a star gets a pixie cut).

This is largely a futile gesture, because ever since I've laid off the razor, I've been careful to keep my legs and armpits covered up. If I end up going to a beachy locale for Thanksgiving (which right now is a possibility), I will shave it all off, even though November won't have ended. Even though I want to be free to make the choice not to shave, the societal pressure is still too much for me. And that kind of sucks.

I hope that some day the rest of the world will realize how stupid their hair phobia is. And I enthusiastically applaud all the women brave enough to give it their own dose of aversion therapy. Maybe my little blog post will help.

Until then, I will proudly stride onto the beach with my unnaturally hairless legs and armpits, and wait in cowardice for the tides of popular opinion to change.


*At some point during the last month, I know I saw a website, no doubt left open by my boyfriend, stating that growing hair is a way to remind us of the hair that people lose when fighting cancer of any form, but I can't find that now. The Movember Foundation was started to raise awareness of testicular cancer.

Cracker Barrel Macaroni and Cheese

I had another bad macaroni yesterday.

It was from Cracker Barrel, a restaurant at which I haven't eaten in a long time, but which I remember for having a fun country store and puzzles on the table, but an absolutely terrible menu—at least for a little mostly-vegetarian selective eater like young me. When I was a child at Cracker Barrel, the only thing on the menu I wanted to eat was macaroni and cheese...I haven't changed much!

Cracker Barrel hasn't changed much either. They still had a puzzle on the table, a store and rocking chairs in front, and a menu full of disgusting meat products. The waitress was even kind enough to tell us (there were two vegetarians in my party) that the biscuits were made with lard, so we couldn't eat them either!

So I ordered a side of macaroni and a side of broccoli and prepared to relive my childhood. When it arrived at the table, I was underwhelmed by its size. I mean, you can't expect much from a side dish, but this was smaller than most.

I was definitely underwhelmed by its taste. The first bite revealed the dreaded Velveeta-texture of Doom! You might not know it, but search my blog for Velveeta, and you will soon discover that anything that reminds me of Velveeta gets an instant downvote.

It lacked any kind of crunch or exciting flavors. The only thing that redeemed it was the noodles were slightly less mushy than they could have been.

I give it a sad noodle for feeling like Velveeta and another for tasting like, um, um, did it taste like anything?

Skittles Gone Bad

I opened up a bag of Skittles today, and my world was crushed when I tasted the flavor of...apple?

Granted, it's probably been a couple years since I ate a Skittle, but they used to be one of my favorite candies, and I distinctly remember the green flavor being lime. But I checked the bag, and it said "green apple," just like that's what it had always been. Could I have been mistaken all those years of my youth, just imagining that green Skittles tasted good because I liked the rest of them?

At this point, I should probably mention, if you haven't figured it out already, that I do not enjoy green-apple-flavored candy.

Well, as I discovered on Candy Blog (which is an excellent idea that I wish I'd had myself!) that they did change the flavor from lime to apple earlier this year. I guess I can't fault them for wanting a little less citrus in the mix (after all, lime is only a few notes away from lemon and orange), but I can gripe enthusiastically about them replacing my favorite fruit flavor with one of my least favorite.

If I had to rank fruit flavors (of the sort that are used in candy, not actual fruits, which sometimes taste quite different), here's how they would go:

1. Lime
2. Orange
3. Lemon
4. Raspberry
5. Cherry
6. Strawberry
          Good
   --------------------
           Bad
7. Green Apple
8. Grape
9. Banana

Just thought I'd share, in case you ever need to know this helpful trivia when I'm famous!

My yoga flip

I'd just like to take this moment to admit I was wrong.

Three years ago, I publicly announced my distaste for yoga and ridiculed most of its practitioners as posers (get it, that's a double entendre!), but in the past year, I have become just the person I once despised.

It's been a long journey, from scoffing when a friend suggested I try it in 2006, to learning some respect for the practice in 2007 through a housemate who did it and yet didn't seem like a show-off or a lemming, to being grudgingly willing to try it on vacation (but still feeling relieved when it got canceled) in 2011, to taking my first class earlier this year, and finally to having used up the 10-class pack I bought on Groupon and feeling sad that it was over.

In those years, I have learned something: I like yoga!

Although it is hard to explain exactly why I like yoga more and more while other exercise programs demotivate me over time (I'm still making better and better excuses to avoid the gym), here are a few reasons that come to mind:

• It's usually slow-paced, so I have ample time to get my uncoordinated limbs into the right positions (unlike dance, for example, which I've also tried).
• No pain, no gain, but with other workouts, it is a huge effort to keep moving through the pain. With yoga, when it hurts, all you have to do is stay still. That's so much easier.
• Unlike other types of workouts where you stretch after you're finished (meaning you're not really finished, are you?), in yoga the stretching is built right in, and you get to end by lying flat on your back and resting. It's such a nice way to tell your body you're done.

Yoga is not the perfect workout. I don't think it burns as many calories as a really vigorous weightlifting session, and I'm sure it's not nearly on the same cardiovascular level as a 10-minute run, but yoga has one huge thing going for it: While other workouts make me miserable, I can go into a yoga class grumpy and come out happy.

And that alone makes it worthwhile for me.

Though some purists would like to make me feel guilty for considering it a form of exercise rather than a more spiritual practice, I like yoga in the form it has taken in America in the 20th Century! A way to work out your body and balance your mind.

Although my 10 studio classes have been used up and I am too cheap to pay full price, I will probably keep doing it at home. Fortunately, there are free podcasts and websites for home-based yoga.

And in the meantime, I've started ice skating lessons, which I also love!

Macaroni and Cheese from New York Deli

This could be the worst macaroni and cheese I've ever eaten.

Although I got a hearty portion for my 3 dollars (compared to the skimpy underflowing 8-oz cup I got at Maryland Smokehouse), it was not worth half that.

I don't think it had any flavor, but if it did, it was that of cardboard.

It had none of those things that make macaroni yummy (that is, big gobs of cheese on top, crunchy caramelized bits, or even ground black pepper).

To give it credit, I did eat it on Thursday after it had been sitting in my fridge since Monday lunchtime, but I don't think even being fresh could have saved it from all its shortcomings. This macaroni was so boring, bordering on disgusting, that I couldn't finish it.

After a few bites, I put it away to give it ... dum dum dum!!




3 sad noodles because I've never been so sad eating macaroni! Not even Chick & Ruth's!

And to think I was looking forward to eating this one for the past 3 days!

Dean & Deluca Peanut Butter Cookie

When I went to Dean & Deluca last week, the bakery counter was full of tempting treats, including bar cookies and brownies to die for. I bought several of those and found them delicious, but the peanut butter cookie of the Giant variety that I chose will be the topic of this review. I must first mention the price, which came out to 1.61¢ a gram, or right about average. I mention that first, because Dean & Deluca is known for being expensive, but that is not true of its Giant Cookies, at least.

Though Dean & Deluca has a reputation for being where you go if you want to break the bank, in my case, it's where I go if I want a broken cookie. My peanut butter cookie did not fare so well over its walk around Georgetown, looking like a jigsaw puzzle by the time I got it home.

In spite of, or perhaps because of, its fragile nature, the texture was very pleasant to consume—dense and soft, almost doughy once you got past the exterior, providing just the right amount of resistance to my teeth. It could only be improved if the sugar granules on top had been a little bigger, or maybe if it had been studded with chocolate chips.

The peanut butter flavor could have been stronger, but there was enough there to make its presence known.

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

What did you today? Oh, watched a light show in my mind.

I had my yearly migraine today. For the past 4 years, I've had an ocular migraine pretty much exactly once a year. Usually it's in late winter, around February or March, when spring is just hinting at appearing. It was late this year, but last year, I had two, so I think they're somehow averaging out.

If you've never had an ocular migraine before, here's about how it goes. First, I develop what I can only describe as a "hole" in my vision. It's always somewhere on the left side. I'll start to notice that I can't see things I should be seeing, and I have to do a lot of head cocking to get the entire picture. I don't see blackness; I just don't see what's there.  The best movie to describe this phase of the migraine is the Neverending Story, when the Rock Biter describes the Nothing.

Naturally, this is a terrifying experience. By now I recognize it as the first phase of a migraine, but part of me still wonders if this time it's something different, and I'm really going blind. Or having a stroke.

The second phase is the sparkly phase. The Nothing is replaced by a crack, running across the  left side of my field of vision, composed of sparkling lights. The crack transforms into a big sheet of dancing geometric shapes. The phenomenon moves around, usually working its way upward and leftward. It makes it hard to see, but the right side of my field of view is usually relatively clear.

As time passes, the sparkles gets less and less pronounced, until they are more like a grey shimmer that finally fades off to stage left, like some kind of theatrical transition. The entire weirdness usually runs its course in about a half an hour. Today mine started around 1:15 and was done by 1:46, with only a little weird feeling in my left eye and an annoying headache.

Unfortunately, the headache  stays long after the show is over. Some people's migraine headaches are crippling. Mine, fortunately, aren't that bad—or unfortunately, considering they're an extreme nuisance but not extreme enough for me to legitimately take a break from work for them. I usually just turn off the lights and wait for it to be over. The worst time I ever had a migraine was in the middle of a meeting, during which I had to pretend I was fine and that I really could see the people I was talking to.

I haven't figured out anything particular that causes these headaches, except that they usually crop up at the end of winter, and I haven't found anything to relieve them.  A friend told me caffeine is a good remedy for a migraine, so when this one started, I fixed myself a cup of iced tea. Maybe that wasn't enough caffeine, but it certainly didn't do anything to influence the intensity or duration of this particular migraine.

At least one thing is relatively certain. I've got a good few months before I have to go through this again.

Chocolate Chip Cookie by Ted's Bulletin

The second cookie that I purchased from Ted's Bulletin was a classic chocolate chip.

The texture was a little crumbly, but not too crispy. There was plenty of chocolate, whose chewiness mitigated the slight dryness of the cookie itself.

The chocolate was also dark and delicious. I would definitely take this cookie over the key lime cookie of the same brand.

I didn't weigh this cookie, but I'm going to operate under the assumption that it was about the same price per gram as the other Ted's Bulletin cookie I tried, which I rated at 3 stars. Maybe 1.32¢ a gram is 3 stars for a cookie I don't enjoy too much, but it's a much better value for a cookie I really liked. Maybe I'm being too subjective, but I'm going to call it 4 stars this time.

The bottom line:
Taste: 5 stars
Texture: 4 stars
Price: 4 stars

As a bonus, here is a picture of both Ted's Bulletin cookies, in the cute little dessert case that I stood staring at for entirely too long while waiting in line to order them.

Phenomenal Pumpkin Spice Cookie

I've reviewed ABC cookies one time before, and I mentioned how great it was to have a fruity cookie rather than a chocolatey one. I think Alternative Baking Company's strength is in those kinds of cookies.

The Phenomenal Pumpkin Spice Cookie is one of my favorite flavors by the brand.

I love how slightly crunchy it is on the outside, and how chewy on the inside. I would love it even more, if it were just a little moister, but I guess dryness is the price you have to pay for a cookie with a shelf life.

The flavor is mild, but not too cinnamon-y, excess of cinnamon being my usual gripe with pumpkin, ginger, and other spice cookies. So really, it's almost perfect.

Except that I've become more exacting in my pricing standards lately, and 1.66¢ a gram, as these cookies are, is only worth 3 stars.

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

The Anger Management Fund

Those who know me well know that one of my least attractive traits is a tendency toward tantrums over trivial things. I try (sort of half-heartedly) to keep my cool, but when I'm mad, there's just nothing that makes me want to get un-mad! So what's a hot-headed girl to do?

Well, those who know me even sort of well know that one of my other traits is an unswerving thriftiness. I have rules about how much I'll pay for almost anything, and it takes a truly desperate need to make me exceed my limits. It's not that I don't have the money; it's just that I won't let myself spend it!

And therein lies the key to simmering down when I'd rather just boil over. I need an incentive to curb my anger, and what better incentive for a self-denying penny-pincher like me than free money to spend any way I want?

And so I've started the Anger Management Fund. Now whenever I'm so enraged I want to spit bullets, I offer myself 5 dollars for unrestricted spending. If I want to buy a 60-dollar dress with it, that's fine. Some silly 80-dollar wall decal? No problem. 100-dollar shoes? Girl, that's crazy, but you can do it! (For reference, I usually draw the line at 13 dollars for a dress, 20 dollars for a pair of heels, and zero dollars for home decor.)

Though the logic is somewhat flawed (It's not like the money isn't coming out of my own funds anyway), this actually usually works to help me calm down.

Naturally, I have to avert several meltdowns before I've accumulated enough to buy anything significant. I've been using this system since late summer of 2012, and I've worked my way up to seventy dollars. Not quite enough for a wall decal, but plenty for a couple of whimsical pieces of apparel and jewelry. Here they are.

And in case you're curious, here's how I earned all that money:
10$ - For 2 forgotten incidents before I opened the fund.
5$ - For overcooking my green beans.
5$ - For forgetting to clean the bathroom, forgetting to get new shampoo, and banging my hand on the oven all within 25 minutes.
5$ - For leaving my clothes in the dryer for 3 hours to get all wrinkly again when I'd put them in the dryer in the first place to de-wrinkle them.
5$ - For overcooking my green beans again!
5$ - For forgetting to bring everything into the shower that I needed for taking a shower.
5$ - For having to cross H street twice while trying to get onto H street. On foot! (There was an overpass in the way.)
5$ - For getting ignored by customer service at Safeway.

(That doesn't account for all 70 dollars, but it does account for all the 43 that I spent on this last batch of goodies.)

Key Lime Pie Cookie from Ted's Bulletin

A friend recommended I try Ted's Bulletin in DC for "milkshakes, giant cookies, and homemade pop tarts!" So I did.

I was not in the mood for a milkshake, and didn't want to take a chance on pop tarts (which aren't my favorite in general), but I did purchase two giant cookies. Yesterday I ate the key lime pie flavored one.

It was definitely nothing to jump up and down over. It was dry and cake-like, and though not too crunchy, it didn't do anything to make my mouth happy.

I could not taste much key lime flavor, except in the icing, of which there was not much. In fact, I found this cookie so boring that I had to smear it with lemon curd to keep from feeling too disappointed.

It cost 1.99$ for 150g, running up at a decent 1.32¢ per gram.

The Bottom Line:
Taste: 2 stars
Texture: 3 stars
Price: 3 stars

Ebay Misspellings

I buy a lot of things on eBay. OMG, in the past two weeks, I spent $105.43 in 8 separate impulse purchases—I'm on a spree; I need to tone it down a bit, which is why I'm blogging right now instead of shopping! If only I had a dollar for every spelling error I found on eBay, I would never have to worry about funding my recreational shopping habit.

Since most of the sellers on eBay are average Joes and Janes trying to get rid of their old stuff, you find a lot of "average" spelling errors. Here are some of the most common ones I've seen in the Fashion department, along with commentary by me:

Mid-drift - from now on, don't settle for showing your midriff; show, um, the middle of your drift? Would that refer to continental drift, and in that case, would it be a fault line? Is a "fault line" like a "wrinkle?" If people are selling clothes that expose the mid-drift, does that mean it's OK to have wrinkles now? Can I throw away all those anti-aging serums that cost 30 dollars an ounce? Thanks, eBay seller! Your listing just changed my life!

Burgandy - Once in the distant past, I think I tried to spell "burgundy" the same way. That almost makes this error forgivable. But for the existence of spell-check.

Sequence - Now that is a real word, so I can see why spell-check wouldn't help you on this one, but still, I feel it is necessary to point out that this is probably the only shirt for sale that is actually covered in sequence.

Those glittery things covered in sequins are another matter entirely.

Stripped - Although many gentlemen would probably love to see a stripped dress (or rather, what was left behind after the dress was stripped), a striped dress wouldn't cause nearly as much excitement.

Crocketed - Probably my favorite spelling error that I've run across on eBay is this likely typographic mistake originally intended as "crocheted." When I think of a crocketted bag, all I can think of is a purse decked out with raccoon tails.

And now on to the jewerly department. One time, I saw for sale on eBay a "Ladies nice neckless." Well, you have to do a little transposition to arrive at these hilarious "nice neckless ladies."

Chocolate Peanut Butter Cookie from Vegan Treats Bakery

 DC VegFest was a week ago, and there in its midst was an amazingly popular booth staffed by Vegan Treats Bakery.

After waiting in line for only an eternity, it was my turn to make my selection from the tantalizing piles of desserts. I would have chosen one or two, but my boyfriend went hog-wild and bought one of almost everything in the tent. The only giant cookie that we picked up, however, was this chocolate peanut butter cookie.

The salesperson described it like a peanut butter cup, crispy on the outside with a gooey peanut butter filling on the inside. It sounded so good.

But it was just OK.

It didn't have that "Ew, it's healthy" taste that you sometimes get in a vegan cookie, and it held together nicely, with barely a crumble. In fact, I would have mistaken it for a conventional egg-based cookie without hesitation if I didn't know better.

I have to say, though, that I wasn't enamored of the taste. The chocolate exterior was bland, and the peanut butter interior wasn't, how shall we say, exciting.

Although the chocolate dipped part did provide a pleasant variation in texture, I just didn't find anything standout about this cookie.

At 1.93¢ per gram, this was definitely not a great deal for a giant cookie, though especially for a cookie of the vegan variety, it wasn't a great ripoff, either. In general, I would best describe this cookie as unremarkable.

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

Nice things about autumn: An exhaustive list

Fall fell earlier last week, and so did my happiness levels. And my motivation levels. It's taken me days to finish this post that I started writing last Monday!

I really don't like fall. When I was younger, it was my favorite season because it was so crisp and windy and exciting, but now that I have a cold intolerance, fall is just a depressing season that obligates me to wear long sleeves and reminds me that winter is coming.

But who wants to be depressed all the time? There must be at least one good thing about fall, and I have finally found it!

Fuzzy caterpillars! 

I have been seeing them everywhere lately, and they always strike joy into my heart (and no small amount of terror when I have to swerve to avoid running over one of them on my bike).

I hope caterpillars can sustain my mood until discounted Halloween candy appears to take up the torch.

Shower Complex

I compare myself unfavorably to others in a lot of categories, but bathroom products has never been one of them—until yesterday.

I've been renting out my spare bedroom to short term guests on Airbnb. The most recent visitor settled in and promptly filled a shelf of the shower rack with her stuff. I took one look at it and instantly lost about half my self-esteem.

Everything she put on the rack was so pretty! She has a shower pouf that looks like a lovely blue-tipped white rose. She has shower gel that comes in an elegant gold bottle with shimmer on top. She has about 4 shampoos and conditioners that aren't anything special, but they look so nice sitting there in the rack all together.

By contrast, my shower supplies look depressing. On one shelf, I've got a bottle of Suave shampoo (the cheapest brand at Target) and a used Voss water bottle that holds a solution of baking soda and water. Next to them both sits a disk of soap acquired at some 2-star motel. On the shelf below that, because it's too big to fit next to all the other stuff, is a family-size bottle of all-purpose conditioner by Kirkland, Costco's signature brand. I have to keep it upside-down so that the conditioner will come out when I need it, and it's been sitting there so long that brownish film has formed on the bottom. To top it all off, I have a scruffy old white washcloth draped over the bar. The overall effect is one of stark apathy.

I never thought that your shower shelf could say a lot about who you are, but if it does, mine says I'm a bachelor who's given up on life. Hello, newfound sense of inferiority!

Chocolate Chunk Cookie from Noodles & Company

This cookie's claim to fame is that it contains oats. Which not many chocolate chunk cookies have the guts to do.

Its other claim to fame was that I bought two on two separate occasions just so I could give it an adequate review. The first time, I lost the receipt and forgot to weigh it. With so little information to go on, I just gobbled it up and left it unreviewed. The second time, I got all the facts. And it weighed 130 grams and cost $1.59 (meaning it weighs in at 1.22¢ a gram)

And after two reviews, I am confident in saying that the facts indicate this cookie would be better without oats. While I'm all for variegated textures to give my cookies some bite, in this case, I don't think they helped. I can't say exactly why; I just found them a distraction while eating.

Other than that, it was a fairly average chocolate chunk cookie. I have to give it props, though, for being soft enough to get seriously bent up in a bumpy trip home on my bike and still survive without crumbling.

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

On Getting Hi

This morning, I woke up to a text message: "I'm deleting your damn number. I've tired of your ignorant bullshit." The message was from a number that I didn't recognize, but our text message history showed we had texted before. The last text was from July 28, incoming: "HI".

Before that, another incoming message on July 1: "Hi.."

Before that, a 5-message exchange in early June, regarding what we had done that day, initiated by this number I had never bothered to save, and ended by me when I couldn't think of a worthwhile reply to "I went to get food."

I had to scroll up several more messages before I remembered who this master conversationalist was: a guy I met on okCupid shortly before I started dating my boyfriend. This guy lives in the wilds of Pennsylvania or some other such impossibly distant locale. We've never met in person. He always seemed to want to chat by text message, but never had anything interesting to say or ask. His boringness was obvious in the fact that I never felt the need to save his number.

All I can assume from his most recent (and I guess final) text message is that he finds my failure to reply to his aimless "Hi"s a fatal form of ignorance (Is he mistaking ignorant—a term referring to lack of knowledge—for a nonexistant adjectival form of the verb ignore? That's a whole different grammar question to be explored another day).

I know he's not the only one to be offended by my selective texting, so I'd like to tackle at least one of the pressing issues of texting etiquette—the controversial use of generic greetings.

Texting differs from an in-person conversation in that it is not instantaneous. When a person says something to you face to face, you are obligated to reply immediately or else be seen as rude. When a person texts you, they have no idea whether you've received the message. They don't know what you're doing, whether you have your phone with you, or whether you're otherwise occupied. They cannot expect a response right away. But here's where it gets tricky. Do they have a right to expect a response at all?

In the case of the two neglected "Hi"s, I'm not sure what I was doing at 5:55pm on July 28, or at 10:26pm on July 1 (but probably sleeping), but I will assume that it was not a convenient time for me to engage in a chat. Now, to avoid any kind of misunderstanding, my best course of action would have been to reply with something like "can't talk now." But even that dashed-off response would require me to actually have the phone with me, not be otherwise occupied, and be awake.

It's not unusual for me to reply to a text message hours or occasionally even a day or two after I receive it, because that's when I finally have the time for texting. But a message like "Hi"—Is that even worth a delayed response at all?

Hi is a greeting. It's what you say to someone when you see them to acknowledge their presence. It is not an appropriate phrase to sling out into the vastness of space and hope it sparks a conversation. I feel like "Hi" has an expiration date, and after a few hours, it no longer makes sense to say Hi back.

I feel that if all you can think to say is "Hi," then clearly, you don't need to talk that badly. if you want talk, you should have something in mind to talk about, and then you should just start talking. That's the beauty of text messaging—it is direct, concise, and works best when you avoid all the little pleasantries that are obligatory in face-to-face conversation.

So here's some advice for those of you who imagine that you need to start every chat with a hello: You don't. And if you still want to, go ahead, but make sure you say something afterwards that has more substance. And if you are the type of person who suddenly blows up in anger over a month after some imagined slight, well, I just hope you were looking for your reply on the internet and not on your phone.

The Basket Case (a sequel to Life Without a Basket)

This whole bike basket situation is driving me batty.

The rabbit carrier did its job for a few days until the door hinges started disintegrating (I don't blame them; they were made of grass!).

My next basket was an oversized white hand basket I found at the thrift store. I held it onto the back rack with a length of bungee cord I keep in my car.

I really enjoyed tooling around with this basket on my bike, because, although it looked even more incongruous and rigged-together than its predecessor, it also had an undeniable element of cuteness. It was a goofy and fun addition to my bike. It was also amazingly spacious and easy to remove if I wanted to bring it into the house—just unhook the bungee cord and go! This basket lasted a day, until the ancient bungee cord snapped. Fortunately it did it overnight, rather than mid-ride!

It just so happened I had an old metal folding basket waiting in the wings. I had carried it faithfully on my handlebars for at least a couple years, but there were a number of things that annoyed me about it, so when it came time to replace it with a bona fide official handlebar basket, I wasn't sad to see it go.

But beggars can't be choosers, and as soon as I knew I was back in the bike basket market, I contacted my ex-boyfriend (at whose apartment I had left it) asking for it back. I brought it home just one day before it had to spring into action! I decided to hook it onto the side of my rack (it kept collapsing when placed on top, and the mounting bracket for my real basket was taking up all the handlebar space). I'd been considering using panniers, as they seem to be popular among the serious bike commuters—you know, the ones who wear helmets and reflective vests and such. So this seemed like a good time to try the side-mounted basket.

I'm not sure I'm impressed. There was very little clearance between it and the pedals; a few times I hit it with my foot. But of course the worst thing about this basket was its contents were too heavy for the Velcro straps holding it on, and it fell onto the trail halfway to work (and I think this is where I lost the combination lock that I keep in the side pockets of my backpack). I had to reattach the Velcro once more when I got on campus. Obviously, this cannot be my basket solution, at least until I find a more reliable way to keep it on my bike.

While at the office, I taped the bottom to the sides so it wouldn't collapse spontaneously, and strapped it to the top of the rack. That seemed to work better. At least it didn't fall off on my way home, though it did slide around quite a bit.

Chick & Ruth's Macaroni and Cheese

Chick & Ruth's Delly (Yeah, they spell it that way) is a pretty famous place in Annapolis that you still don't have wait in line to eat at.

I've only been to Annapolis a handful of times, and I've eaten at Chick & Ruth's thrice, but I have not yet tried their macaroni and cheese (perhaps because when I have an opportunity to eat an egg salad sandwich instead, that always seems to take priority).

In any case, I haven't been missing out on much. My last visit to Chick & Ruth's, my dining companions both got macaroni as a side dish. I tried a few bites and was very happy I'd just gone for egg salad again.

It was mushy and dry (can those two things really go together?) and not salty enough.

My friend who is a less picky eater didn't like it either. He gave me his leftovers, and I ate them, but only because I don't like paying for food when I can get it for free. My boyfriend who will eat anything thought it was fine, but he will eat anything.

The moral of this story is there are definitely better things to get at Chick & Ruth's. Like a colossal milkshake!

I rate the macaroni and cheese two sad noodles:
One for its terrible texture, and one for its terrible flavor.