Alcohol is the best thing about this.

I follow MichonMichon/Jules and she had a video on yesterday's post. It was Epic Meal Time's Breakfast of Booze. I think I was in some way inspired by that yelling man, hence all the curse words.

This is the ingredient list. We're in England, so weights are grams and kilograms for the dry fruit ingredients. Yes yes, Derpina, there are some tsps and tbsps but those aren't necessary to the story.  

Assembly table #1

The cauldron. Normally used for the Christmas Chutneys, but this year, it was decided that the making of the chutney was far too dangerous for their relationships with one another. So, cakes it was.

 This is Ruth's mother, Susan. She's lining the cake tins with parchment paper. Notice the coffee mug. The cuppa is ever present in this house, in this country. Omnipresent, really...like a Route 44 Sonic drink in a teacher's classroom: ubiquitous.

 Commence round 1 with all this butter!

 It goes in the cauldron! Add lots of sugar! That's smart.

Count those mutha-fucking eggs! 12! And we ain't even done yet!

The stuff that goes in cake.

Put some peel there, bitches. Life's too short to drink alone.

Mixed fruit and currants soaked in Courvoisier

They all go in!

Divide it evenly, yo. Make some divots in the middle for the alcohol collection. Was told that one of these would be mine. Dammit.

Start round two. That's me folks. I was a mixin' fool! Roo's mom brought an industrial strength one because she learned from last year's mishap: the mixer's motor burned out.

 Whoomp! Dere it is! Shakalaka. This one was mine. It has crystallized ginger, dates, nuts, and other mixed fruits too. I think there was mango. Not positive. It too has a divot for the alcohol. It was my "practice cake".

 Take it to the pub and eat that brick. Fucker was massive. This was only half of it. Gave the other half to Peter the Bartender. Haven't heard back from him about it, so it must've been alright.

So theoretically speaking, there'd be a cake in a tin on my counter (aka 'bench' in this neck of the woods) and I'd be "feeding" it spirits each week... Like I have some minor cake god to appease.

I couldn't wait for that though. I wanted to try it out. And you know what? It was like fruitcake. I don't like fruitcake really. Neither do SciMan and Kiddo. But you know what else? When Roo gives me the Christmas Cake that I helped to make, I'm going to eat some and be grateful that I have such a great friend in her. She drives me places that would take me an hour by bus (not counting wait times). We have a lot of laughs together; our taste in alcohol is similar: I like it straight from the bottle and not in a cake, so does she. My kid loves her and vice versa. She's my first grown-up friend* and I'm very very lucky to have one like her.







*to all my other friends that I made before I was "grown-up": I love you realhard. It isn't that I don't think you are "real" friends, it's that you met me when I was young and stupid and you liked me. You even like me now when I'm older and more stupid than before and I imagine that you'll keep on keepin' on when I'm way old and catatonically senile. I sure as hell hope so. You know my skeletons, so to speak. And maybe, just maybe it's because of that that I'm wondering what's wrong with you.

Golden Rations could be a good cereal brand name

Ever hear about the Golden Ratio? What about the idea that the closer your face is to perfect symmetry, the "hotter" you are to the opposite sex?

So in nature and art, also science and mathematics, there exists a number that provides a basis for an algorithm to indicate supreme beauty...although most likely, this is highly exaggerated.

The Fibonacci spiral approximates this... AND SO DOES MY FACE!

My friend,  DrSpach, did one for herself on Google+ and showed lots of us... I begged her to do mine and gave her a few options to choose from.
Here are the ones she used:

Here's the result of the symmetrical division of my face...

Rachel McAdams could be my twin! So too could Sister Wendy. Wee-nay-issahnce!

Thanks Stf! I've always wondered about my own symmetry. Because now I can tell photographers to shove it when they want me to photograph me from the left as now I have irrefutable scientific proof that my right side is my better side.

So why am I left-handed?

Campaign for Real Ale

Know your rights, especially as a drinker, when you go next to your local. You could be drinking crap for all you know.

I had the amazing, once-in-a-year opportunity to go to the Durham Beer Festival held at the Durham University Student Union.


Yeah. I'm in Alice's world where you can drink pretty much what you want on a university campus. Ring, ringring, ring. Um, hello OU? Yeah, I'd like to open you up for this cool thing called adult discretionary activities where you could allow the adult students and adult faculty and staff to partake of the wonderfulness that is Delirium Tremens....

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It's such a wonderful Belgian beer, I didn't even mind the pink elephants I saw...

I mean really, OU... If a #3 university in a CIVILIZED COUNTRY can have a family room for the underaged at a beer festival, surely too, you could as well. What better way to keep tabs on our youth than right under our noses as we imbibe?

You could even have security! They have such smooth butts to polish the handrails with! There's bathrooms for the washing of the hands afterwards! WE CAN DO IT! We can be the change we want to see!

And the clientele that would attend are the good ol' boys with money types. With a festival like this, people are there to spend money to drink beer. To drink beer. And to drink the beer. It's classy. See? The bartenders have official festival uniform polo shirts. There's a manly smell that you just can't get from the 50 yard line at Owen Field. Toby Keith knows this.

*****

I went this last weekend to the Durham Beer Festival, obviously. I really enjoyed myself...sensibly. I thought I caught a glimpse of a "minor" celebrity and was thrilled that I might get a chance at a reddit post, "Guess Who I Ran Into?" Alas, the fat man was just a fat man.

The fat man sitting under the PROMOTES DRINKERS RIGHTS sign, to me, looked like Nick the Greek from Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels. 

CAMRA, or Campaign for Real Ale, is an organization that was started in the 70s here in England as a way to keep drinking from being commercialized, a la Budweiser and to promote small pubs. I had several Englishmen (okay, two) tell me about their perception of Americans and the American beer (they think it's shit). 

According to these two Geordies, and if I'm honest others from the area here as well, think that all Americans drink is Budweiser varieties and the odd Coors and Miller Lites. I didn't totally disabuse them of that notion because well, those beers have their place. But I told them about how when I did go out to Louie's after a hard day of teaching 6th graders, I'd usually get a Sam Adams or a Corona. With lime. No salt. Or a Negro Modelo. With shredded lime on the goblet rim. The bigger the better. No salt. See? I can be a beer snob too.

First beer of the night.

So, the Durham Beer Festival. Really cool in many ways. First, it was on a university campus. Paradigm shift for me. Second, £10 for four half pints and I get to keep the glass? Bargain. Third, I got to go to a part of the University that I hadn't been motivated to explore prior. Really. Fourth, I got to go with my buddy, Ruth.

And I learned a lot about myself that night too. I learned that I LOVE Belgian beer. Best beer of the night? Delirium Tremens, hands down. It won "Best Beer in the World" in 1998 at the World Beer Championships. 

Also, I like the Dumbo reference.

Still Banned From Wetherspoons?

So I got a text sometime last week inviting me out for a "goodbye" party out at Wetherspoons, or rather, 'spoons'.  Immediately I thought, "yeah, right," because of the last time I went out with the kids. Technically, it really was a goodbye pub crawl, like you do here. The Jobseekers program that pays the salary for the CS shop workers ran its course and my friends are now moving on to other things, like moving away to Coventry. This was to be the last 'hoorah'.

To this day, we still have not made it to Wetherspoons as a group. Lifetime bans have that effect, I suppose.

No. The revelers started out at Studio where I came across these fine items...

A vending machine that provides slip on flats for those tired piggies after a hard night of working it in stilettos. 

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Okay. I've never ever seen anything like that before. Excellent idea!

 Here's some samples of the footwear the ladies of the Northeast torment their feet indulge for the sake of fashion...

These particular examples of Northeast Footwear Fashion are extremely tame. Me? I was already wearing black flats. I learned my lesson the first time.

It was loud, too loud. I tried to convince these younguns that we should go someplace quieter. Some were amenable. And then some of them, who I didn't meet because of the fact that it was really loud and I couldn't be bothered anyway, decided to buy pitchers...

Good on him. He was over 7 feet tall anyway.

 I had to leave and I wasn't the only one who felt the same way. When people start drinking pitchers through a straw, it usually isn't a good harbinger of a fun night out with the lads...

So we (Laura, her boyfriend Matt, and I) moved on to...

Popped collar central...aka Varsity. Has lovely large bathrooms.

The Slug and Lettuce. Yes, that's really its name. And it is a huge place. But on certain days and times, they have really good deals like 2-for-1 cocktails. Had a very nice and spicy Bloody Mary. Bartender looked at me like I was crazy because I kept telling him, "MORE TABASCO!" I know it's a horrible picture, but what do you expect?

And then there was this guy. Still the Slug and Lettuce. Gave that chair quite the lap dance. Must've been an invisible rabbit sitting in it or something. It was Easter Eve after all.

Temperature at night was high 30s or low 40s. See the heels? And her dress is one of the longer ones. I was inadvertently flashed Britney-style at one point during the course of the night by a girl whose dress was much shorter than that pink number. 

And what was I wearing? Jeans that kept falling down (happies, dammit), Gap Favorite T-shirt (gray), Gap jacket (beige), Scarf (gray with fringe), black flats. Ponytail. And I couldn't give less of a damn that that was what I wore.

Oh and it rained too. Heh heh.

Finally, because Laura was feeling minor guilt that she was not hanging out with people she cajoled into coming out, we ended the night with all the pitcher-drinking hoodlums at Yates.  The DJ wouldn't play Sonique. Said it was too old. UH, HELLO? Ever hear of retro? Tosser. But I am now happily acquainted with these lovely songs...


and


and Lady Gaga's Born This Way which is a total rip-off of Madonna's Express Yourself...

Amirite?


I was happy to spend time with the ones I knew, happy to ignore the ones I didn't. Because I'm a Sensible Lady. Turns out that I was also Old Lady at the Club. Just like Chef says, don't bother me none.

And so, after a night of drinking a few drinks and observing the natives, I was home before midnight-thirty. To think that I was contemplating canceling so I could watch Game of Thrones.

I love bit torrent.

Fun Video Friday vol. 2

 and 
Also Fun Link Friday:
Tigers On Surfboards. DAZZLEBERRY! BRAVERY! VIPER! 
New for gmail users!  Fun and healthy for you!

Something to be excited about

A friend and I are taking the train one month from now to go watch a wedding procession in London.

 We're going to go see these two ride up and walk into Westminster Abbey. Maybe even watch them come out too. Aren't they cute? Too bad about that hat.  I've got a poll up so make the decision for me what we do that day.

I was thinking I'd go full-out, tailgating style somewhere along the procession route. Folding lawn chairs. A cooler filled with hotdogs and beer for me, peanut butter and honey and Merlot for my friend. A portable radio, blaring pre-game analysis from Joan Rivers. She'd definitely bring something unique and special to this happy occasion. Doubt she's invited though. I'm not either, so it's okay Joan.

The Alternative to Dimples.

I'm playing along with TGN because I like her and hope all she does endeavour is successful.

The Storytellers Blog Hop.

Dimples, my car, is on extended holiday. Naturally, the next best way to get around town is via bus. There's two stories today. Neither are very long, very short, or very interesting.

National Toothache Day

And it's a-happy to see you!  Went out to the MetroCentre in Gateshead (finally!) and got to spend time walking around in an honest-to-goodness mall. Was told by the employee at Lush that it's the biggest of its like in the EU. Whoosh.

Ate a Bramley Apple Pie with custard. It was warm and tasty. My first time with hot custard.

It didn't look like this in the advertisement. Le sigh.

And this... THIS IS LUSH!!!  I heart Lush. 

It's like a Whole Foods store or International Deli. XD

My hands still smell good!  

This week I received two awards...those posts are coming... I'm thinking about what to say. I've got DMB's What Would You Say in my head.

Oh. I apparently haven't lost my American accent. The bus driver for our road trip to Consett asked me where I was from. Also, I volunteered at the Shop on Monday. A customer told me I sounded like Dolly Parton. 

I wish it had been that I looked like Dolly Parton. She's so sweet, she gives people a toothache.

I love you so hard, by the way. Thanks for all that you said about that love letter from Monday. I wrote it, laughing pretty much with each line and for you to also laugh...well, that's the stuff of angels' eyeboogies. Thanks. 

Thanks Lindsey!

Notice anything different?

The lovely lovely TexasGermaNadian very kindly offered to create an awesome header for me because she felt bad that she couldn't rig her giveaway contest in my favor.  Now, the actual winner is quite deserving and I admit I felt let down that I didn't win outright, but I was very happy for the Food Floozie. How superhardrad of a name is that? I love bloggyfriends.

TGN emailed me and said she'd like to do a nice header for me and would I like that?  Oh yes! After a few vague emails (on my part of course) we had a 'voila' and there was much happies throughout the land house.

So, TGN, someday I hope to return the favor. You're a class act. This link's for you.

Sensible Lady rears her head again.

Finally got to see 'The King's Speech' today...was sold out last week. Pffft.

 I wish I had a Lionel Logue in my pocket a few years back for my kid brother. I won't review the movie because I did way too much of that in college and it is most likely that most of you have already seen it. I will say that I loved that they used a German composer's music in the climax...you know, where Bertie addresses the BRITISH EMPIRE (all of it) about how might is not right, specifically in regards to DAS DEUTCHELANDERS or Germans as I'm sure they prefer to be called.


Yes, Symphony #7 is totally evocative of George VI's closing his eyes and thinking of England moment. At least for me. Because, you know, England declared war on Germany just prior.  Or does Beethoven transcend Nationalism?

Also, I dunno if I was the only American in the audience. But given that there were times when I was the only one laughing, specifically, at the part where Bertie calls his family a "firm", well, maybe I was. But I've got a penchant for laughing in movies even when no one else does. Call it hereditary. I was, with Ruth, one of the handful of "young people" in the audience. Everyone else was at least sixty or older. And the place was jam-packed. Wednesdays at 3pm...Goldie Oldies.

Last night was My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding night again. This time, Ruth and I were Sensible Ladies. I took chocolate chip cookies with assorted nuts, she had a plate of cut veggies and carmelized onion tartlets ready to go. I drank tea with milk (blechegads) because I'm nice and that's how I roll. Roll over.

A Sensible Solution to last week's Overthetopness

Really, tea with milk isn't bad... I didn't add the sugar. Idiota! I <3 carmelized onion tarts now.  And my baking is ohsoawesome! Thanks to Nestle Toulouse. Please tell me that you remember that episode of Friends.  I think last week, some of you got to experience some lovely pictures of me after I got home from last Tuesday's MBFGW watcheroo. I'm so glad you enjoyed it. But (over)indulgence was the word last week, not so this week. This week, we're Sensible Ladies again as evidenced by Exhibit A above.

Making da cookies. Gratuitous picture of progeny.

So, Gypsies and Travellers? Yeah. They still come across as crazy. Each week's a gift! I despise their anachronistic posturing but adore their persistence against adverse conditions. Last night's episode was a bit all over the place, so I'll just talk about the boys that were followed by the documentary crew. They were asked if they respected women.

Boys: "Oh yeah, sure. Yeah."

Interviewer: "As much as you might respect a man?"

Boys: "No. No way. That's a different respect, you know, like?"

The boys admitted to roughing up girls to get a kiss. When asked if they thought the girls might like that, they said they reckoned not. As we watched them preen and get ready for Appleby where they went to "hunt for women", Ruth and I both thought they looked like 1950s thugs. {snapping} Boy, boy, crazy boy. Keep cool, boy.

Ruth's mom came along with us to see the movie and on the way, I shared this letter that was dropped off through the mail slot in the door. I wanted to see if Ruth's mom thought what I thought. She had a photography business once upon a time and photographed a few of these Traveller weddings...so, really, she's my reachable expert.

Click to enlarge. Note the rampant grammatical errors. I mean, I'm not the greatest self editor when I'm streaming conscious but, it made me nostalgic for Nigerian scammers.

And she did think what I think. It's from a Traveller! I'm hunkering down at the window tomorrow to watch for them! 

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