Let's go back in time, children. Back all the way to February, an era when I was wearing fingerless gloves and drinking hot cocoa and reading The Stand. Now we're all the way at the end of September where I'm... doing pretty much the same thing, actually. But in my defense, The Stand is a really long book. And there's creme de menthe in my hot cocoa now. Also it's been unseasonably hot these last few days so I'm wearing footless leggings instead of fingerless gloves. Whatever, moving on.
So back in the winter I participated in a little thing via the SmartCanucks website called "Frugal February". I set financial goals and tried my best to stick to them, occasionally checking in here and on their forums to keep myself semi-honest. Well, looks like it's that time again. After my union went on strike, my paycheques got all confuzzled (technical, economist term), and budgeting became a bit of a nightmare. Well the strike is over, (we won!) and my finances have returned to normal. My spending, however, has not. The lovely lovely Ess, who came from Missouri to grace us with her sunshiny presence is a shopping expert, and I was only too happy to help keep her skills in tip-top shape. And as it's just plain rude to have someone shop alone, I pulled my best Emily Post and happily bought pretty things right along side her. And then TS and I went to Toronto and shopped. And Jax and I shopped when she was here last month. And, hand to God, I just took a pause from writing this blog post because ModCloth sent me a text message that their "Stylish Surprise" sale was on. So I bought stuff. The great thing about Mystery Bags is you don't have to hem and haw over details like fit and colour. You just throw 'em in your bag and press "ship".
I have a problem, I know.
SO. Here are the goals. Feel free to play along, if you're so inclined. I'm not even close to being an extreme couponer, or whathave you (I don't even have a coupon binder which is probably totally gauche in the EC community) but I am always happy to share my experience with someone and offer tips where I can. That being said, I have a lot to learn about impulse control and my goals reflect that. They are shockingly similar to February's but those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it, after all.
The Goals
1. Taxis
Only one thing has changed since February with regards to my reliance on cabs - I tend to pay for them now in cold hard cash. Literally cold and hard, because I just fill my pockets with coins from my dinosaur piggy bank* and rush out the door most days. I only know this is true because my bank statements show three measly taxis paid for by card and I know I took at least 4-5 times that. This may not seem like a big deal, but when you're taking a cab 15 times a month, that $1.50 fee for using your card can really make a difference. But I still take a lot of cabs. I'm not exaggerating with that 15/month figure. It might even be more than that, but I stopped writing down my spending long ago. But taxis ain't frugal, so they gotta go. I admit, I could eliminate a lot of them by being more punctual, especially in the mornings. In my defense, in February I didn't have a dog, so now having to feed and walk her first thing in the morning has really eaten up my time. Let's fix that. 12 taxis this month, that's all. While this may seem like a lot (and in fact, is 50% more than I allowed myself in February) I should note, I'm now taking an after-work Spanish class twice a week and I don't drive, which means I'd be taking 2 buses at 7pm after a full-ass day on low blood sugar. Not gonna happen. So eight of those will be taken up by after-class cabs. If I can get by on less, so be it.
2. Write it Down
When I tried to come up with a comprehensive list of how much I'd spent on cabs, clothing, groceries, and eating out for this post I quickly realized I'm kind of a mess when it comes to documenting my spending. I downloaded the Mint App with the hopes that it would help keep me on track, but mostly I just swear and shake my fist at its reminders that I'm spending an "unusual amount at coffee shops". I will use it this month, however, and I will write down every blessed thing I buy.
3. Let's Cook
Yes, like our good friend Walter White I, too, would like to envision myself as something of a crackerjack chef. Unfortunately, my skills are more Todd than Heisenberg (can you tell I'm getting jittery avoiding spoilers about the BB finale?) but I think I have my eggplant parmegiana recipe up to at least 76.7% purity.
TB and I had been pretty good about eating out lately, but September killed me. To us, friends in town means drinks and food at all our favourite local haunts and that took its toll on our pocketbooks. Between visitors and my long weekend away, I ate out 15 times this month, if you can believe it. Don't think this is just circumstantial, though - in an average month, I probably eat out 10-12 times. For Broketober I want to chop that in half. I will only eat out 6 times this month. No getting other people to pay for me as a loophole. Take out counts. Work cafeteria count (gross). Coffee shop runs don't count (shut up Mint App), unless I buy food, and I'm still allowed only 3 coffee purchases. Considering I'm already committed to eating out 3 times in the next 4 days, I think this one will be a toughie. I'm also taking this as an opportunity to learn to cook a few new things, as well. I commit to trying four recipes I've never made before.
4. Pretty Frock Purchases
I think I can actually keep to this one. Aforementioned embarrassing Modcloth incident aside, I have high hopes. I've done so much shopping over the past 6 weeks that I'm a little burnt out. Shopping has always been my vice, but lately after I leave the store I find myself vacillating between the joy of having new things and the stress of the clutter and debt that comes with them. I just consigned about a dozen things at a consignment shop near my parents' place and was thrilled at the amount of stuff they took off my hands. It freed up space in my place (and theirs) and has the potential to make me some money down the road. I also joined up with a swap group on Facebook, where I was able to get an awesome sweater dress this past winter and just traded a too-short/young-for-me dress for a tunic I adore. It's a great way to get rid of stuff you don't want for stuff that's new to you. All this to say, I will try my best to buy no new clothing this month. The exception might be stuff for a Halloween costume, but even then I'll try to "shop my closet". And I know there's going to be a vintage dress sale this month at my favourite store but I will try to stay strong. Strong damnit! This also means no frivolous non-clothing purchases. Books, gadgets, DVDs, etc. I'll try to find new ways to have fun.
5. Use What I Have
The weird thing is, I could hold tight to most of these rules and be okay, even cheat a little, if I just used what I had. I have a Groupon for a tapas place around the corner that we love; I have another one for a fish place we've never tried. I can cash in for a gift certificate at a nice-ish chain restaurant for our date night this Wednesday. I have a free Starbucks coupon as recompense for the time they made me a peppermint latte that tasted like Nyquil. I have coupons for free food, I have medical claims to submit that would net me tonnes, and so on and so on. I save all this stuff for some mystical time in the future when I'll need it, ignoring the fact that I could use it right now. If all this is me saving for a rainy day, then October's gonna pour.
So there you have it. Fewer taxis, write down everything, eat out less/cook more, stop frivolous spending, stop hoarding and use what I got.
Bring the pain, Broketober - I'm ready for ya.
* This is absolutely the truth. He's over 20 years old and wearing a top hat
Monday, September 30, 2013
Thursday, September 12, 2013
The Mountain to Mohammed
Back during Sewergate (c) I lamented the fact that this unexpected cost meant I wouldn't be able to take a vacation this year. Now, that's not entirely honest - I did get to do a quick weekend in Syracuse and will be heading to Toronto later this month, but our pie-in-the-sky plans to go to Europe for the first time were resoundingly squashed as soon as we spied the bill from Messrs Rooter. I'll admit - this bummed me out a bit. I genuinely like travelling, and I especially like travelling with TB so having to put any "us" travel on the shelf for the year was a hard prospect.
So, what do you do when you can't travel? You bring the travelling to you!
Okay, that was clearer in my brain. Let me explain.
While I haven't managed to get away this year I have had a bevy of social outings, whether it be people from far away coming to me, or me sending people off to new adventures around the world. The kind of work I do means that this time of year is full of goodbyes (and one day, 'welcome back!'s, but for now, mostly goodbyes). I've sent friends off to India and Russia, old coworkers to Brazil and Washington and will see off another good friend to Saskatchewan before the year is through. I'd be lying if all these goodbye parties didn't make me feel a little bit lonely and a tiny bit sad, but happily, most of those feelings are countered by a sense of excitement for these people and the knowledge that, for most of my close pals at least, our paths will certainly cross again. The friend who went to Russia, C, started this job with me and we've become very close over the last few years. I took her leaving hard and was feeling a bit sorry for myself once she left. I was delighted then, (and immensely lucky) to have two of my favourite people in the whole world come to town, my bestie (if she heard me use that term, she'd pinch me hard enough to bruise), Jax, and my dear S. The former came from Edmonton, the latter from Missouri, and they greatly contributed to fighting back the sense of melancholy that could easily have made its way into my heart these last few weeks. I'll talk about S in a later entry, but for now, let's focus on Jax (she likes it best that way ;) )
I hadn't seen Jax since Christmas 2011, which is the longest I think we've ever been apart. I love those easy-care friendships, the ones you can slip into like a flowered, faded muumuu even after years of separation. Having her around was heavenly - a friend with whom you enjoy an easy shorthand, a girl who is always down for a drink and a snack, a woman who makes your face hurt and your eyes tear with near-constant laughter. We had drinks at the cheap and divey bar around the corner, we went shopping (she bought me a large ceramic goat's head as a late housewarming present. 'Nuff said), we joked and talked and went to a dance party at a war museum. For real.
It was wonderful having her back, even for only a few days. I miss her like crazy now that she's gone, of course. I'm hopeful she'll be able to make it back in January, but I know flights are expensive and time-off difficult to obtain so I won't get my hopes up too high yet. Maybe stepladder-high. Two children on top of each other in a trenchcoat so they can sneak into an R-rated movie-high.
TB and I have been thinking a lot about how we'll cope when we leave this city. But in reality, what makes this place home has been leaving us in dribs and drabs. It sounds incredibly cheesy, but it's the people that really do make a place feel like home and our town in particular seems to be this ever-changing port, with people leaving and returning nearly constantly. Of course our families and some of our best friends are here, but seeing how other people have left and thrived and fallen right back in step upon their return makes us just a little less panicked about growing up and moving on. Even our parents did it, back in the day, and I'm at least as adventurous as my dad. Until then, we're happy to have Sparta be the port in a storm (not the sexy meaning), a little place to lay your head while you're stopping by, where there's always chips in the snack drawer and a small, demented pug to greet you with silent, suspicious barks upon your arrival.
So, what do you do when you can't travel? You bring the travelling to you!
Okay, that was clearer in my brain. Let me explain.
While I haven't managed to get away this year I have had a bevy of social outings, whether it be people from far away coming to me, or me sending people off to new adventures around the world. The kind of work I do means that this time of year is full of goodbyes (and one day, 'welcome back!'s, but for now, mostly goodbyes). I've sent friends off to India and Russia, old coworkers to Brazil and Washington and will see off another good friend to Saskatchewan before the year is through. I'd be lying if all these goodbye parties didn't make me feel a little bit lonely and a tiny bit sad, but happily, most of those feelings are countered by a sense of excitement for these people and the knowledge that, for most of my close pals at least, our paths will certainly cross again. The friend who went to Russia, C, started this job with me and we've become very close over the last few years. I took her leaving hard and was feeling a bit sorry for myself once she left. I was delighted then, (and immensely lucky) to have two of my favourite people in the whole world come to town, my bestie (if she heard me use that term, she'd pinch me hard enough to bruise), Jax, and my dear S. The former came from Edmonton, the latter from Missouri, and they greatly contributed to fighting back the sense of melancholy that could easily have made its way into my heart these last few weeks. I'll talk about S in a later entry, but for now, let's focus on Jax (she likes it best that way ;) )
I hadn't seen Jax since Christmas 2011, which is the longest I think we've ever been apart. I love those easy-care friendships, the ones you can slip into like a flowered, faded muumuu even after years of separation. Having her around was heavenly - a friend with whom you enjoy an easy shorthand, a girl who is always down for a drink and a snack, a woman who makes your face hurt and your eyes tear with near-constant laughter. We had drinks at the cheap and divey bar around the corner, we went shopping (she bought me a large ceramic goat's head as a late housewarming present. 'Nuff said), we joked and talked and went to a dance party at a war museum. For real.
|
|
TB and I have been thinking a lot about how we'll cope when we leave this city. But in reality, what makes this place home has been leaving us in dribs and drabs. It sounds incredibly cheesy, but it's the people that really do make a place feel like home and our town in particular seems to be this ever-changing port, with people leaving and returning nearly constantly. Of course our families and some of our best friends are here, but seeing how other people have left and thrived and fallen right back in step upon their return makes us just a little less panicked about growing up and moving on. Even our parents did it, back in the day, and I'm at least as adventurous as my dad. Until then, we're happy to have Sparta be the port in a storm (not the sexy meaning), a little place to lay your head while you're stopping by, where there's always chips in the snack drawer and a small, demented pug to greet you with silent, suspicious barks upon your arrival.
Friday, August 23, 2013
One Year In
A year ago yesterday, I took up the virtual pen (stylus, I guess?) and started writing here.
It was a stressful time - I had just bought a house and was preparing to move in with TB - the first time I'd lived with someone who wasn't family. And a year in, well, now we are a family.
I still remember how quickly everything seemed to move. We only had a month to settle everything so our days were filled with lawyer visits, filling out forms, phone calls and emails to utility companies, landlords, bank managers and lots and lots of trips to take out money. So much money. All the money. Before I even had time to process everything, my apartment was rented, our down payment had cleared and we were sitting on our couch (RIP, Sinky Brown), which was now, officially, *our* couch, in *our* house.
It seems like just last week we were hauling our boxes into our little place, trying to find room to store everything. But then I remember all the things that have happened since - Sewergate, Not one, but two great house parties and, of course, our little furry Hoover, Lily, and all the hilarity that's come with having her - and I realize that it's actually been a pretty full year.
I'm really glad I've taken up blogging again, even if I don't do it as often as I thought I would. For me, the best part about keeping a paper diary was looking back over old entries and reliving past events. It's important to me to retain moments' "authenticity" and I'm usually surprised to find that things didn't happen exactly the way I remember them. This blog has been a great snapshot of our first year in our first house and the trials and tribulations (and super fun times!) we've experienced. So thanks to all (7?) of you for reading, and I hope you've enjoyed my first year back behind the keyboard as much as I have.
Now back to poop jokes and fart noises, as per usual.
It was a stressful time - I had just bought a house and was preparing to move in with TB - the first time I'd lived with someone who wasn't family. And a year in, well, now we are a family.
I still remember how quickly everything seemed to move. We only had a month to settle everything so our days were filled with lawyer visits, filling out forms, phone calls and emails to utility companies, landlords, bank managers and lots and lots of trips to take out money. So much money. All the money. Before I even had time to process everything, my apartment was rented, our down payment had cleared and we were sitting on our couch (RIP, Sinky Brown), which was now, officially, *our* couch, in *our* house.
It seems like just last week we were hauling our boxes into our little place, trying to find room to store everything. But then I remember all the things that have happened since - Sewergate, Not one, but two great house parties and, of course, our little furry Hoover, Lily, and all the hilarity that's come with having her - and I realize that it's actually been a pretty full year.
I'm really glad I've taken up blogging again, even if I don't do it as often as I thought I would. For me, the best part about keeping a paper diary was looking back over old entries and reliving past events. It's important to me to retain moments' "authenticity" and I'm usually surprised to find that things didn't happen exactly the way I remember them. This blog has been a great snapshot of our first year in our first house and the trials and tribulations (and super fun times!) we've experienced. So thanks to all (7?) of you for reading, and I hope you've enjoyed my first year back behind the keyboard as much as I have.
Now back to poop jokes and fart noises, as per usual.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
God Bless the USA
Hidey-Ho, Readerinos.
I am bloody exhausted and poor as a church mouse (as opposed to those fat cat Temple rodents) so that can only mean one thing - I went cross-border shopping this weekend.
Since I was a teenager, August has always meant "family vacation time" - a tradition we continue to follow despite the fact that we are now all grown-ass adults. This means that, as years go by, we're a little more grumpy towards each other and a little more difficult to pin down, but we're a lot funnier so it evens out mostly. I tell myself it's a positive experience even though by the time we were declaring our haul at the border this year I was practically itching to get back to my house, my partner, my dumb dog. I love my family but it's really strange to realize that your definition of your "family" is shifting slightly. But enough introspection - on to the trip.
I'd like to say I was prudent. I'd like to say I only bought what was strictly necessary and weighed the pros and cons of each item carefully before purchasing them. I'd like to say that I didn't spend $120 here. I'd also like to say I didn't immediately do some online shopping as soon as I got home. I would like all those things very very much. I would also like a pony. Lot of disappointment going on today.
So, yes. Not stellar on the pocketbook or the self-esteem but the pantry and my closet are both looking boss!
We've got a pattern when we go to Syracuse - and woe betide if we don't follow all expected elements once we arrive. There's a trip to Destiny USA (RIP Carousel Centre), a day at the outlet mall, a quick tour around Target and the aforelinked Christmas Tree Store, and then a short pop-in to the liquor and grocery stores. You might think those last two a little odd but let me tell you - when your liquor stores are identical and province-run, the novelty of a rundown store with a hand-lettered "adult juice box!" sign is pretty much the definition of whimsical. And American grocery stores are the stuff of dreams! The frozen aisles, full of tantalizing appetizers and cookie dough, more choice in yogurts than anyone should ever need! It's a magical wonderland for chubby funsters such as myself. I always feel a little weird, flitting from aisle to aisle, oohing and ahhing as we complete our late-night grocery run. Like, my weekend getaway is just somebody else's Thursday night milk-and-eggs run and if they think of me at all, they have to be wondering at the disjointed state of my cart's contents ("sriacha chips, cake mix, dramamine and a hairbrush. Count me out of your weird night, lady."). But I do try to embrace my lameness and this trip was no exception.
Somehow, I didn't manage to gain a pound on this trip which is shocking and bizarre, but I'm chalking it up to my body's innate skill at processing affordable-family-restaurant food and not the 8.5 hours we spent walking the outlet mall (I wish I was joking.) I do, however, have a craving for vegetables that won't quit and I'm pretty sure my sodium levels suggest I've drank more Dead Sea than sweet tea in the last few days. But it was worth it, damn it. Midsized-town America understands me. It understands that I want my skinny jeans high-waisted and my knee-high boots wide-calved. It "please"s and "thank you"s and "sure thing, hon"s me until I glow from the attention. It finds me Birthday Cake-flavoured Oreos and makes sure I'm never more than 5 feet away from an Auntie Anne's Pretzels. I love it, unabashedly, and my visit there is always one of my favourite weekends of the year.
And I will read this the next time I'm in a car with my family, radio always in between two stations, as I bicker with the GPS while sitting in a backseat packed with filled-to-bursting grocery bags. Because I will need the reminder that I chose this. And that I love it.
I am bloody exhausted and poor as a church mouse (as opposed to those fat cat Temple rodents) so that can only mean one thing - I went cross-border shopping this weekend.
Since I was a teenager, August has always meant "family vacation time" - a tradition we continue to follow despite the fact that we are now all grown-ass adults. This means that, as years go by, we're a little more grumpy towards each other and a little more difficult to pin down, but we're a lot funnier so it evens out mostly. I tell myself it's a positive experience even though by the time we were declaring our haul at the border this year I was practically itching to get back to my house, my partner, my dumb dog. I love my family but it's really strange to realize that your definition of your "family" is shifting slightly. But enough introspection - on to the trip.
I'd like to say I was prudent. I'd like to say I only bought what was strictly necessary and weighed the pros and cons of each item carefully before purchasing them. I'd like to say that I didn't spend $120 here. I'd also like to say I didn't immediately do some online shopping as soon as I got home. I would like all those things very very much. I would also like a pony. Lot of disappointment going on today.
So, yes. Not stellar on the pocketbook or the self-esteem but the pantry and my closet are both looking boss!
We've got a pattern when we go to Syracuse - and woe betide if we don't follow all expected elements once we arrive. There's a trip to Destiny USA (RIP Carousel Centre), a day at the outlet mall, a quick tour around Target and the aforelinked Christmas Tree Store, and then a short pop-in to the liquor and grocery stores. You might think those last two a little odd but let me tell you - when your liquor stores are identical and province-run, the novelty of a rundown store with a hand-lettered "adult juice box!" sign is pretty much the definition of whimsical. And American grocery stores are the stuff of dreams! The frozen aisles, full of tantalizing appetizers and cookie dough, more choice in yogurts than anyone should ever need! It's a magical wonderland for chubby funsters such as myself. I always feel a little weird, flitting from aisle to aisle, oohing and ahhing as we complete our late-night grocery run. Like, my weekend getaway is just somebody else's Thursday night milk-and-eggs run and if they think of me at all, they have to be wondering at the disjointed state of my cart's contents ("sriacha chips, cake mix, dramamine and a hairbrush. Count me out of your weird night, lady."). But I do try to embrace my lameness and this trip was no exception.
Somehow, I didn't manage to gain a pound on this trip which is shocking and bizarre, but I'm chalking it up to my body's innate skill at processing affordable-family-restaurant food and not the 8.5 hours we spent walking the outlet mall (I wish I was joking.) I do, however, have a craving for vegetables that won't quit and I'm pretty sure my sodium levels suggest I've drank more Dead Sea than sweet tea in the last few days. But it was worth it, damn it. Midsized-town America understands me. It understands that I want my skinny jeans high-waisted and my knee-high boots wide-calved. It "please"s and "thank you"s and "sure thing, hon"s me until I glow from the attention. It finds me Birthday Cake-flavoured Oreos and makes sure I'm never more than 5 feet away from an Auntie Anne's Pretzels. I love it, unabashedly, and my visit there is always one of my favourite weekends of the year.
And I will read this the next time I'm in a car with my family, radio always in between two stations, as I bicker with the GPS while sitting in a backseat packed with filled-to-bursting grocery bags. Because I will need the reminder that I chose this. And that I love it.
Friday, August 9, 2013
Soak it in
TB and I have been trying to squeeze every drop of fun out of the summer (okay, I've been squeezing drops of fun. He's been splitting his time between fun squeezing and demon slaying in Dead Souls). The idea that summer is over too fast is pretty universal, I'd say, but all the more apparent here, when summer is basically 3 months of nice weather surrounded by long periods of either waiting for snow, shovelling snow, or waiting for the snow to melt. No harm, no foul, I love the changing seasons, but I do love to sit in the sunshine while it lasts.
I've really come to realize something these last few weeks, and I'd like to share it with you. It's a little crazy and maybe too controversial, but I feel I have to say it:
I love weekends.
So glad I got that off my chest. So brave.
I've had a lot of stellar weekends this summer and I'm pretty much addicted to them. This past weekend we decided to go for a walk sans dog, so we could grab lunch and poke around in shops without worrying about Ms. Scrunchface. TB found a free bench in a park nearby and we just sat there, looking like contented lizards, faces turned up toward the sky.
Our lunch was somewhat lackluster so much so that I DIDN'T EVEN INSTAGRAM IT but the afternoon was lovely, just the same. I hate the idea of jinxing stuff but I gotta say, I'm pretty happy with life right now. I'm a little bit sentimental these days because we're coming up on Labour Day, which, as I'm sure I've mentioned at some point before, is my New Years. I continually divide my year into "school year" and "summer" and it certainly doesn't help that Labour Day weekend is also our 1-year anniversary of moving into the house. Basically, I'm in full reflection-mode, thinking about how much has changed since this time last year. Add to that the fact that it's the time of year when a good percentage of my coworkers and friends are moving on to other positions, or, in some cases, other countries, and I'm basically permanently trapped in a glass case of emotion most days. But between the goodbye parties and the farewell cupcakes, I have birthday gatherings, short getaways planned, and some great friends coming into town, which delights me in a way you might have thought impossible. And in between there are these moments of quiet reflection, making me feel lucky for this little life I've carved out.
Oh, also we saw this on our walk:
I've really come to realize something these last few weeks, and I'd like to share it with you. It's a little crazy and maybe too controversial, but I feel I have to say it:
I love weekends.
So glad I got that off my chest. So brave.
 |
| We imagined this building was Hogwarts, mostly. |
Our lunch was somewhat lackluster so much so that I DIDN'T EVEN INSTAGRAM IT but the afternoon was lovely, just the same. I hate the idea of jinxing stuff but I gotta say, I'm pretty happy with life right now. I'm a little bit sentimental these days because we're coming up on Labour Day, which, as I'm sure I've mentioned at some point before, is my New Years. I continually divide my year into "school year" and "summer" and it certainly doesn't help that Labour Day weekend is also our 1-year anniversary of moving into the house. Basically, I'm in full reflection-mode, thinking about how much has changed since this time last year. Add to that the fact that it's the time of year when a good percentage of my coworkers and friends are moving on to other positions, or, in some cases, other countries, and I'm basically permanently trapped in a glass case of emotion most days. But between the goodbye parties and the farewell cupcakes, I have birthday gatherings, short getaways planned, and some great friends coming into town, which delights me in a way you might have thought impossible. And in between there are these moments of quiet reflection, making me feel lucky for this little life I've carved out.
Oh, also we saw this on our walk:
I told TB we should leave a "deposit" in it and then scribble on the note "No it doesn't. Wouldn't flush."
We are in our 30s.
Monday, July 22, 2013
At Lease I've Got My Cooking: Fancy-Ass, Grownup-As-Hell Mojito Jello Shots
So as I said in my last entry, it was my birthday at the beginning of this month. And yes, Nosey Parker, I turned 31 years old, which is not the new 21 but is, in fact, still pretty great. As I mentioned, I'm not much bothered by aging, though the esthetician charged with waxing me last week swore that I looked much much younger, which, I'll admit, is a comfort. Thanks, Brittany.
To celebrate, I threw my first birthday party in at least a decade at the delightful casa de Sparta (our humble abode)*. I was reading about tips to make an outdoor party a success and came across a great list of rules that can apply to any party. I regrettably forget the website, but by far my favourite suggestion was to only make what you really love and buy everything else. I'd add to that: buy stuff that requires no prep wherever you can. Last party I made 2 hot dips, 1 cold dip, hot appetizers, cheese plate, punch, the whole deal. I didn't do any prep the day before so I spent the day of the shindig running around crazily, trying to time everything perfectly and ending up incredibly stressed out, to the point that I failed to pay attention while making the guacamole and sliced right through my thumb an hour before everyone arrived. This led to an overly-maddening last minute dash to finish everything without the use of my left hand, as well as the invention of at least 3 new swear words ("fucktumbler" was the stand-out)
This time around I decided to play it cool(er). My sister made posh cucumber sandwiches (which were so good that I instantly gave birth to the Royal Baby) and sangria (she's the sangria whisperer) and I made guacamole (cruelty free, this time) and smoked salmon dip (insanely easy and amazing). I had planned on buying mini cupcakes from one of the stores in town but that turned out to be one of those things I should have done ahead and instead resulted in me taking the bus to three different shops before I said "eff it" and made a dozen cherry chip cupcakes with cream cheese icing an hour before showtime. Faboo! I cut up some cheese, put some veggies on a tray, tossed out some crackers and chips, bought a 2-4, made mojito Jello shots and called it a day.
<record scratch>
Say what? Mojito Jello shots?
Oh yes, son.
I took my recipe from this fabulous website and I have to say - it turned out really well. I kind of want to make this my signature dish. Meatloaf be damned.
How we do?
Ingredients:
6 limes
12-15 Mint leaves of average size
6 tablespoons of sugar
1/4 c. of water
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
1 package of gelatin
1/2 c. of rum (I used a dark rum because it's what I had on hand, but I suspect a light rum would produce a clearer colour of "Jello")
1/2 c. sparkling water or club soda (I used lime Perrier). You could use still water too, in a pinch.
Tips N Tricks:
We began this process the night before the party (starting at 11:30 to be exact. Great time to try new things. Always.), in order to give the gelatin time to set. This isn't a "oh my god, I have to bring something to this bachelorette party and I only have an hour!" kind of thing. A bottle of Skinny Girl margarita mix is probably a better bet in that case.
I put the finished lime halves in an empty egg carton I had reserved for just this task. This way, any spillover was just fine - there was no "drip-through" and we recycled the egg carton when we were done with it. The webpage I linked to above uses a muffin tin with crumpled up foil inside the cups - I suspect that would do just fine as well.
If you're using fresh mint from your garden (this girl was), make sure you don't pick the mint leaves for garnish too early - they'll wilt after a couple of hours. Ask me how I know.
Break it Down:
1. Cut the limes in half lengthwise and scoop out their innards. Reserve the juicy lime innards and liquid in a bowl.
The most time-consuming part of this recipe is hollowing out the limes. We had three people on the task and it probably took 30-45 minutes for 6 limes. Bonus: you find out pretty immediately if you have any existing cuts on your fingers! What fun! I don't own a grapefruit spoon, but I bet it would be an awesome tool to have here. As it was, we used steak knives and soup spoons to do our carving. Flipping the almost-empty lime halves inside-out and scraping them with the spoon seemed to work well to get the last of it out. Don't worry if you can't get every bit out - it's fine. Make sure not to damage the lime peels too much - these are your showstoppers in this recipe, after all.
2. Wash the emptied lime halves and dry them lightly with a paper towel. Place the fruit cut-side up in your 'holder'.
3. In a small saucepan, combine the 12-15 mint leaves and the sugar. Muddle the hell out of it with a wooden spoon (or if you're some kind of domestic god/dess, use your fancy muddler). I used 12 leaves and I thought the end result could've used more mint, so next time I'd use 15 or so.
4. Add the quarter cup of water and the lime juice. I guess you could be fancy about straining out the pulp at this stage, but I just took a couple of spoonfuls from the bowl of lime innards. The shots still came out pretty damn clear.
5. Sprinkle the gelatin package over the top and let it sit there for a minute or so. Turn the stove on low and stir until the gelatin disappears, about 5-10 minutes.
6. Pour the liquid through a strainer into a container with a spout - I used a 4-cup Pyrex measuring cup. The strainer will get the lion's share of the mint and lime pulp.
7. Add the rum and sparkling water to the mixture and stir.
8. Pour the finished product into the lime halves, filling them to the top. I had a little more liquid than needed for the 6 limes/12 lime halves.
9. Carefully move your little beauties into the fridge. I left them there overnight so there'd be no last minute freakouts, but my (admittedly limited) experience with gelatin makes me think that 4 hours should be sufficient.
10. Carefully slice the lime wedges in half. I had thought I might do them in thirds but frankly, this size looked better.
11. If you're into garnishing, take the small mint leaves and affix them to the side of each shot.
12. Place on tray, serve, get daintily crunked.
Final tip? Make sure to tell everyone that these are awesome "Jello" shots otherwise everyone will just quietly stare at them, thinking they're just a tray full of lime wedges and judge you for being a citrus-obsessed weirdo.
Enjoy, grown-up-fancy-ass-you!
<record scratch>
Say what? Mojito Jello shots?
Oh yes, son.
I took my recipe from this fabulous website and I have to say - it turned out really well. I kind of want to make this my signature dish. Meatloaf be damned.
How we do?
Ingredients:
6 limes
12-15 Mint leaves of average size
6 tablespoons of sugar
1/4 c. of water
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
1 package of gelatin
1/2 c. of rum (I used a dark rum because it's what I had on hand, but I suspect a light rum would produce a clearer colour of "Jello")
1/2 c. sparkling water or club soda (I used lime Perrier). You could use still water too, in a pinch.
Tips N Tricks:
We began this process the night before the party (starting at 11:30 to be exact. Great time to try new things. Always.), in order to give the gelatin time to set. This isn't a "oh my god, I have to bring something to this bachelorette party and I only have an hour!" kind of thing. A bottle of Skinny Girl margarita mix is probably a better bet in that case.
I put the finished lime halves in an empty egg carton I had reserved for just this task. This way, any spillover was just fine - there was no "drip-through" and we recycled the egg carton when we were done with it. The webpage I linked to above uses a muffin tin with crumpled up foil inside the cups - I suspect that would do just fine as well.
If you're using fresh mint from your garden (this girl was), make sure you don't pick the mint leaves for garnish too early - they'll wilt after a couple of hours. Ask me how I know.
Break it Down:
1. Cut the limes in half lengthwise and scoop out their innards. Reserve the juicy lime innards and liquid in a bowl.
The most time-consuming part of this recipe is hollowing out the limes. We had three people on the task and it probably took 30-45 minutes for 6 limes. Bonus: you find out pretty immediately if you have any existing cuts on your fingers! What fun! I don't own a grapefruit spoon, but I bet it would be an awesome tool to have here. As it was, we used steak knives and soup spoons to do our carving. Flipping the almost-empty lime halves inside-out and scraping them with the spoon seemed to work well to get the last of it out. Don't worry if you can't get every bit out - it's fine. Make sure not to damage the lime peels too much - these are your showstoppers in this recipe, after all.
2. Wash the emptied lime halves and dry them lightly with a paper towel. Place the fruit cut-side up in your 'holder'.
3. In a small saucepan, combine the 12-15 mint leaves and the sugar. Muddle the hell out of it with a wooden spoon (or if you're some kind of domestic god/dess, use your fancy muddler). I used 12 leaves and I thought the end result could've used more mint, so next time I'd use 15 or so.
4. Add the quarter cup of water and the lime juice. I guess you could be fancy about straining out the pulp at this stage, but I just took a couple of spoonfuls from the bowl of lime innards. The shots still came out pretty damn clear.
5. Sprinkle the gelatin package over the top and let it sit there for a minute or so. Turn the stove on low and stir until the gelatin disappears, about 5-10 minutes.
6. Pour the liquid through a strainer into a container with a spout - I used a 4-cup Pyrex measuring cup. The strainer will get the lion's share of the mint and lime pulp.
7. Add the rum and sparkling water to the mixture and stir.
8. Pour the finished product into the lime halves, filling them to the top. I had a little more liquid than needed for the 6 limes/12 lime halves.
9. Carefully move your little beauties into the fridge. I left them there overnight so there'd be no last minute freakouts, but my (admittedly limited) experience with gelatin makes me think that 4 hours should be sufficient.
10. Carefully slice the lime wedges in half. I had thought I might do them in thirds but frankly, this size looked better.
11. If you're into garnishing, take the small mint leaves and affix them to the side of each shot.
12. Place on tray, serve, get daintily crunked.
 |
| The final result. I realize the plating is somewhat lacking but if you knew how I lived normally, you'd be mega-impressed right now. |
Final tip? Make sure to tell everyone that these are awesome "Jello" shots otherwise everyone will just quietly stare at them, thinking they're just a tray full of lime wedges and judge you for being a citrus-obsessed weirdo.
Enjoy, grown-up-fancy-ass-you!
*One guess which one of us gave it that name. One.
Friday, July 19, 2013
31.
 |
| Mature: Started cleaning this bright and early the next day. Immature: It took me most of a week to bother finishing and I drank out of my hand in front of the sink when there were no more clean cups. |
 |
| Lily surveying the post-get together scene (read: searching for dropped Doritos) |
And the past year has been kind of a big deal, really. I bought a house, moved in with TB and adopted a Hoover dog. And every one of those decisions gave me at least 2 mini panic attacks, but in retrospect, I'm so glad I went through with all of them. Our place really feels like a home now, and we feel more like a team than ever. Granted, 1/3 of our team doesn't pay a single goddamn bill, but she eats most of the stuff we drop on the ground so it pretty much evens out.
When I was little, I was always torn between this ache to be grownup and this fear that all the fun stuff in my life would disappear once I became an "adult". As the owner of a mortgage and a barbecue, I think I can officially call myself a grownup now, and I have to say, besides the early mornings and the bills, the overtime and the eating vegetables, being an adult is pretty awesome. Here's to another year of cocktails, dirty jokes, board games, Rock Band, pretty frocks, meaningful work, mini-vacations, deep talks, picnics, jello shots, fancy-ass dinners, lovely family, sexy shoes and perfect friends.
Bring it on, 31.
When I was little, I was always torn between this ache to be grownup and this fear that all the fun stuff in my life would disappear once I became an "adult". As the owner of a mortgage and a barbecue, I think I can officially call myself a grownup now, and I have to say, besides the early mornings and the bills, the overtime and the eating vegetables, being an adult is pretty awesome. Here's to another year of cocktails, dirty jokes, board games, Rock Band, pretty frocks, meaningful work, mini-vacations, deep talks, picnics, jello shots, fancy-ass dinners, lovely family, sexy shoes and perfect friends.
Bring it on, 31.
But first, a nap.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)