In Which We Acquire A Vegan Cookbook

Hello, remember us? Stephanie and Johnny? It's been a while. We're still alive. Our house still has a hole in the ceiling. We haven't acquired any more animals (yet). Things are terrific- I (Stephanie) am employed full time, my horse is a real winner, and I think I might be getting over being sick. Johnny has acquired about a zillion boxes filled with things from his youth. Johnny also acquired a vegan cookbook.

We've been trying to eat in a more healthy way for months. We've successfully curbed our restaurant dining down to once or twice a week (as opposed to 3-4 times). Johnny has his addiction to sweets sort-of-under control. I ate cheese (and only cheese) for dinner only once last week. Best of all, our grocery bill is down to a somewhat reasonable amount. (Savings on actual food has somehow translated into spending more on snacks and juice, though...)

Johnny found the internet's favorite vegan cookbook, The Happy Herbivore, about two weeks ago. Both of us were very excited for its arrival. It's well reviewed, seems accessible, and promised there were no crazy ingredients required. When it was delivered, we eagerly started cooking our way through it.

We cooked black bean burgers, 'cheater' pad thai, smoky black bean enchiladas, and a stir-fry over the course of two weeks. Every last one of them was dreadful. Each dish was over-seasoned and oddly cooked. The enchiladas called for a pound of tofu, but the tofu wasn't seared or flavored beforehand. It absorbed enchilada sauce until it was a big, gelatinous, vaguely spicy mess. The black bean burgers overpowered both mustard and pickles with their cilantro. The pad thai's sauce was heavy and gloppy.

Perhaps the most disappointing aspect of the entire cookbook was its lack of information on a vegan lifestyle. No tips on how to balance meals to ensure nutritional requirements were being met (although nutritional information was provided for each recipe- a big plus). No advice on cooking unfamiliar foods like tofu, seitan, or textured vegetable protein. For a cookbook that touts itself as accessible to beginners, it sure didn't make cooking vegan meals appealing.

The recipes themselves are pretty easy to follow and clearly written. The book includes an appendix with definitions of common abbreviations (like TVP for textured vegetable protein). The recipes are of a low degree of difficulty and not very time consuming. However, they just aren't tasty. They seem to be written by someone who has no idea how spices and seasonings work or how things like "texture" can affect a meal.

I wish The Happy Herbivore was a better cookbook, because there are many things about vegan meals that appeal to me. For now, though, I'll just have to stick with the Meatless Monday meals found on eatingwell.com.

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Stephanie Uses Power Tools

As you may or may not know, my work hours were recently slashed in half. This means I'm working 10 hours a week, leaving me with nothing to do for the other 158. If you subtract time I spend sleeping, eating, riding the horse, driving to various locales, and generally lounging, I currently have approximately 30 hours a week of free time. Some of you might be envious. I can hear you thinking, But Stephanie, you can exercise! You can start knitting! You can train the dogs properly! You can take naps and watch Food Network! You can spend your time baking fresh cookies for your loving boyfriend who's currently paying half of your bills! Gentle readers, I know. And a chunk of this free time is definitely spent napping and watching Food Network and doing the cleaning and laundering of the nice co-author of this blog. But friends, let me tell you, that shizz gets old. One can only spend so much time every day browsing the online sales at Dover Saddlery, Bit of Britain, and LL Bean. Or watching old episodes of Eureka and Doctor Who. 

So, feeling both motivated and guilty, I decided to tackle some house and yard-related projects that have been unpleasantly lingering for months. (Sort of like that weird smell from the garbage disposal.) Yesterday, I mowed the front lawn. It'd sprung up, all bright green and lush from the rain, and was way too tall to look neat. When I was finished, I decided I might as well get out the weed eater and do the trim, too. When that was finished, I figured since I was already sweaty and gross and covered in plant matter I should probably go ahead and trim the hedges. The result? A very neat lawn! But not neat enough. Our crepe myrtles all seemed to die in the unusually harsh winter. All of a sudden, they blossomed a few weeks ago. It seems they've sprouted a ton of new growth around the dead stuff, which makes them look really, really ugly. They used to be beautiful- tall and full and colorful. Now they're half dry, dead, brown branches and half pretty green foliage dotted with pink blooms. 

I tackled the removal of the dead branches on one of the plants today, using Johnny's Milwaukee reciprocating saw. The dead branches are thick and hard- too much for the little hedge clipper. Using advice from Southern Living's Grumpy Gardener, I trimmed back all of the dead growth I could find. It wasn't too difficult, but I was then faced with a new problem: the new growth had been supporting itself on the dead branches. Without them, it was too weak to hold itself up. It drooped to the ground, making the majestic myrtle look more like a weeping willow. I made the executive decision to commit crepe murder (I think of it more like assisted suicide) and trim the fresh branches. There are still a few tall branches supporting themselves, and a slew of small growth toward the bottom. I'll be reading a bit more on trimming these suckers before I get the pruners out. 

Frustrated with the garage's work bench, I spent the rest of my morning reorganizing it. I discovered the jackpot of power tools stashed in there. Johnny's got a circular saw, two drills, a jigsaw, the aforementioned reciprocating saw, and a belt sander. Lucky for me, I was a proud member of FFA in high school and learned a lot about how to properly wield power tools through agriculture classes. (Not saying I was the best welder or built the greatest rafters, but I got by.) 

So, what does Stephanie + power tools equal? Who knows? All I have on my agenda thus far is jump standards. Once I've acquired some 4x4 pieces of wood, training for my upcoming horse trial is going to kick into high gear! 

Other projects on my radar: repainting my bedroom furniture, building Johnny some sawhorses, installing a toilet, and repainting the hallway bathroom. No promises on taking pics or blogging, but I'll do my best.

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You Don't Appreciate It Til It's Gone

I grew up in Tennessee and consider myself a Southerner, despite my innate dislike of sweet tea (I prefer unsweet with a big slice of lemon) and my inability to pull off a convincing accent for very long. Some people might argue that since I was born in New York, I'm still a damn Yankee. But I'd disagree. I love the South. It's where I grew up, where I went to school, where my heart will always stay.

To the untrained eye, Oklahoma might seem exactly like my beloved Tennessee. It's hot, mostly Republican, and one can certainly find a church on every corner. Everyone has a dog. Most people enjoy a cool sweet tea. Some folks say "y'all". But there are subtle differences, if you know where to look.

• People here in Oklahoma refer to soft drinks as "pop". Back home, it's always "coke", no matter the brand. 
• The lands of the South are varied, but generally consist of temperate forests across plains and hills. There's a bit of that in far eastern Oklahoma, but most of the state is distinctly part of the Great Plains. The difference between the lush green forests of Tennessee and the stark grassy plains of Oklahoma is immense and often depresses me.
• Oklahoma's history is rooted deeply in a Wild West, cowboys-and-Indians culture. Known as "Indian Territory" until it achieved statehood in 1907, this isn't surprising; however, it's vastly different from the South's heritage of early European settlement, slavery, and war. 
• The architecture of Tennessee is rooted in its antebellum period. Beautiful, columned Greek Revival-style plantations dot the landscape of not only Tennessee, but much of the South. That style is less popular out west; Tulsa has a particularly impressive collection of Art Deco buildings. Equally gorgeous, but definitely different.

A less subtle difference (for me, at least), is the people. In Tennessee it's perfectly natural for strangers to wave when they pass you on the road, or to give you a friendly nod and smile in the produce section of the grocery store. Waitresses will endeavor to have genuine conversations with customers. Gentlemen always hold the door open for others. Most people try to make a new person feel welcome in their town or university or organization. In Oklahoma, I've found it to be much, much different. People react like you're crazy if you smile at them or try to strike up a conversation at the grocery store. When they learn you've moved here from another state, they act like they can't believe it: "Why would you want to move here?" they ask, incredulous. Those in the hospitality industry are surly and barely polite. Very few people hold the door. Somehow, Okies can sense foreigners, and those foreigners are not welcome. Maybe it's because Oklahomans are fiercely protective of their culture and feel threatened by invaders. Maybe it's because they're all dreadfully mean. I don't know.

I miss the South and its quaint, relaxed ways. Will I ever make it back? I'm not sure; it depends on a lot of things. Will I ever feel at home in Oklahoma? I'm not sure, but it ain't looking good. 

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White Vinegar: What Can't It Do?

I hate it when things smell weird. Rooms, carpets, clothes, towels, garbage, sheets. Anything. In my never-ending quest to eliminate the funky smells that arise from living with two cats, two dogs, and a Johnny (not to mention from working at a barn), I've tried everything. Scented candles, check. Air-freshening sprays, check. Fabric refreshers, check. Laundry detergents/fabric softeners, check. Scent-absorbing substances, check. Somehow, stuff still resorted to smelling weird after the effects of the product wore off.

In my desperation, I turned to the Internet. This was after I'd washed towels three times in an effort to rid them of their musty smell. I came across this blurb about using white vinegar to wash towels. And you know what? It totally worked! White vinegar completely eradicated the nasty mildew smell from every towel I own.

A few weeks later, I read something online about how setting out a cup of white vinegar in a room would remove odors from the air. I thought this sounded kind of crazy, but I tried it in the smelliest room of the house: the TV room. (It smells like dogs and body odor. Delicious!) Lo and behold, it worked! The room smelled like vinegar for a couple of hours, but then nothing. It smelled like nothing. Glorious.

What else can this magical potion do? Clean windows, get the pee out, deodorize the garbage disposal, clean the dishwasher, remove stains from plastic food containers, and even remove build-up from your hair. Seriously. Use it. Love it.

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Fatty Lumpkin

Yes, it's another dog.

Last month, Johnny and I added another canine family member. Oops, sorry we're just getting around to telling you. The director of the non-profit for which I work resigned last month and moved back to Michigan to care for her ailing mother. She gave me a number of things before leaving, including an aloe vera plant, some candles, a pair of spurs, a riding crop, a pair of riding breeches, an elliptical machine, and the dog pictured above. 

His name, officially, is Lucky. He sort of answers to it, and it's the name listed on all of his vet records. He's a former stray, so I suppose it's fitting. But we have another name for him around here: Fatty Lumpkin. If that sounds familiar, it's because it's from Lord of the Rings (the book, not the movie). From the Lord of the Rings Wiki:

"Fatty Lumpkin was one of Tom Bombadil's ponies. When Frodo and his Hobbit companions, Sam, Merry and Pippin were taken by the Barrow-wights, Tom rescues them on Fatty Lumpkin."

It's an appropriate name for the dog- the poor thing weighed 38 pounds at his last vet check-up!! He's only about two feet tall, so I think this makes him something like "morbidly obese". He wheezes when he walks, sleeps, rests, and chews. Johnny is afraid walks will kill him, so we've just been letting him take it easy and wander around the backyard at his own pace. (He has a vet appointment this week, which will hopefully shed light on what sort of exercise routine he can handle.)

Buttons is delighted to have a canine friend. After her efforts to play with the cats were continually rebutted, she seemed a little down. But once Lucky showed up, her spirits were renewed! Here was something she could jump on and bite and roll around with! Fatty Lumpkin, to his credit, lets her go crazy and never snaps or fights with her, even when she seems to be trying to tear one of his tiny ears off. He's generally a pretty good-natured fellow; he and Buttons only have spats when there aren't enough rawhide chews to go around. 

Lucky's long hair is kind of annoying- it sheds constantly and accumulates in gross piles around the house. He also smells really, really doggy and sometimes pees on the carpet. And his continuous wheezing is a real detriment to sleeping. But he's a dopey, sweet, cuddly animal, and we're (mostly) happy to have him.

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How Does This House Continuously Fall Apart?

I think this blog is supposed to be about home improvement or something...

Since moving into the house around a year ago, I feel like more destruction than improvement has happened:

• Hall bathroom toilet is in pieces (albeit because it stopped working and we tried to fix it)
• Half of the trees in the yard are dead (unsure about why this happened)
• A panel from the dropped ceiling in the kitchen fell out (replaced this yesterday though)
• I stepped through the ceiling while exploring the "attic"
• Buttons ate some of the carpet in the TV room
• Buttons ate some of the wallpaper in the bathroom
• The pool has turned into its own fragile ecosystem
• The garden has been taken over by unruly weeds
• The deck has some worrisome boards
• Dishwasher has begun leaking and stopped draining
• Bathroom sinks have stopped draining

How does this happen? Is this just what houses do? Fall apart? This isn't very fun. I thought it was going to be all painting walls neat colors and buying lamps!!

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On Milwaukee

Johnny and I had a lovely time in Milwaukee, Wisconsin with Moto and her boyfriend Bob. The weather was uncomfortably warm and sunny, the customer service left much to be desired, and our hotel room's air conditioning was nonexistent, but we had a good time nonetheless.

After a late flight and rental car upgrade (to a Toyota Camry), we arrived in Milwaukee around 2 AM Saturday morning. We met with Moto and Bob for breakfast later that morning at The Original Pancake House, where we all overate and immediately regretted it.

We headed to The Basilica of St. Josephat, a beautiful Franciscan parish in the heart of Milwaukee. We were hoping for a tour (the website indicated these occurred on weekdays), but to our dismay, tours were only given on Sundays after Mass. We wandered around the outside and took some (less-than-spectacular) photos.

Basilica!

After Google Maps Navigation led us through the city's Mexican ghetto, we arrived at the Pabst Mansion. (Yes, as in Pabst Blue Ribbon.) The tour was informative and interesting. The mansion was beautiful to see- even after a hundred years and a terrible paint job from the local Catholic Diocese, many of the rooms were restored to their original glory.  Johnny was particularly enamored with Captain Pabst's study, which was filled with secret doors and animal horns. There's still a lot of restoration work to be done, but it's definitely worth seeing if you're in town. I took a terrible picture of the Pabst Mansion, so here's a great one from their website.

Pabst Mansion

We headed to downtown Milwaukee after our tour, with the intention of finding The Fonz. Construction forced us to take the long way on foot; it would have been a very pleasant walk if not for the heat. We wove through a bustling scene along the river- cafes, shops, and even a few kayakers in the river itself! The Fonz didn't disappoint, although he did look a bit worse for wear. And he was so tiny! Apparently Henry Winkler is only 5'6" and the statue is life-sized. It was definitely kind of weird, though, especially when Johnny posed with him. Doesn't he look like some kind of freak??

No, that's what Johnny really looks like!

We decided to lunch at the Milwaukee Public Market. Or, rather, I decided to lunch there. Everyone else seemed content to look around and be amazed at the selection of food, beer, wine, and cheese. I wolfed down a Chicago-style hot dog.

Note the Subaru Outback friend in front. Nice!

After enjoying the air conditioning for an hour or so, we decided to venture out on a brewery tour. Our original intention was to try Lakefront, but the only tour available was the 4 PM. As it was only around 2 PM, we decided to try another brewery. We ended up at Milwaukee Brewing Company, which only had two spots available in their 3 PM tour. Since we didn't want to break our group up, we opted for the 4 PM. The tour was $7 and included a pint glass, token for free beer at a local bar, and 'samples'.

We took our free beer tokens and headed down to Steny's to kill time until our tour. While we weren't particularly impressed with the service and didn't get free beer (because we ordered the wrong beer), the food was perfectly fine. 

Johnny, Moto, Bob, and I headed back to the brewery around 3:45 for our tour and found the place packed. People were milling around everywhere! Some appeared to be from the last tour, some seemed to be on our tour, and some didn't seem to be on any tour. I thought this was odd, but quickly forgot about it when we were handed our pint glasses and told to start sampling. Moto and I tried the Flaming Damsel, a Vienna-style lager. I wasn't a huge fan, but I drank it anyway, determined to get my $7 worth of samples. A bandanna-wearing hipster attempted to round the crowd up in order to start the tour, but nearly everyone ignored him. Those of us that were paying attention gathered around to watch a informative video about the history of the brewery and their flagship beers. At least I think that's what it was about; yours truly took the opportunity to use the ladies and missed most of it. The only thing I recall is a statement about how they weren't too concerned with guests learning about the process of the brewing- it was more about taste, man.

Bandanna Hipster took us to a station with hot-pots and Grape Nuts and explained something about grist and wort. I couldn't hear well thanks to the rowdy crowd and was starting to feel a bit tipsy from two beers at Steny's and my free sample. The next station found us at a tap of four specialty seasonal beers (or something), where we were encouraged to get samples. I got a pint of something that tasted like Blue Moon, only more delicious. Bandanna Hipster herded us up a set of stairs to an enormous brew kettle. By this point, we'd lost about half our tour group to sample oasis, yet it was still impossible to get close enough to Bandanna Hipster to hear well. We eventually went back downstairs with the ever-dwindling group to fermentation tank. I imagine BH told everyone about how it worked; I don't know. We were then directed to a blissfully cool aging cooler and then directed to the packaging area. After a brief speech about environmental sustainability commitments, we were let loose and told to have more samples. I had two more pints of the Blue Moon tasting beer, making a total of 4 pints as samples. And then it dawned on me why there was an enormous, rowdy crowd. The tour was essentially a $7 all-you-can-drink extravaganza! I highly recommend it. 

At this point, Johnny and I were suffering from sleep deprivation (and in my case, drunkenness) something awful and begged Moto and Bob to take us back to the hotel. Moto came in with us (because she was staying there) and Bob went to meet with a friend. I had every intention of staying in the room only a couple of hours, until I stopped feeling tipsy and hot. Johnny and I immediately fell asleep, leaving poor Moto to fend for herself. I woke up around 1 AM, apologized, and went back to sleep. 

The next morning we ate breakfast at Kat's Cafe, which was terrific. We ventured out to tour Miller-Coors. It was much more organized, air-conditioned, and sober than Milwaukee Brewing Company's. Our chipper tour guide took us through the history of Miller and how all of our favorite (right) products are made. We saw brew kettles, fermentors, and the famous caves where Frederick Miller had packed the walls with ice to keep his beer cold. There were a couple of bizarre videos in which an actor portraying Mr. Miller appeared, but they were kept to a enjoyably hokey minimum. At the end of the tour, we were unleashed to the beer garden, where we were informed we must have a Miller Lite first, but could then choose two other samples of any product to try. 

They make sure you know it's historic.

I must digress for a moment. I am something of an accidental beer snob. Blue Moon is the cheapest stuff I drink. I think it's great. I also like expensive imported hefe weizens and fruity craft-brewed things. I support my local breweries. I don't touch Bud Light or PBR (even ironically). Most economically priced things taste positively disgusting to me.

So you can imagine my immense surprise when I took a sip of that icy-cold Miller Lite and it was delicious. Seriously. It was the best thing I've ever tasted. I attribute it to the heat of the day and the coldness of the beer. Otherwise, how can I live with myself?? I also tried their Honey Weiss, which was kind of gross. Moto had a shandy (I think Johnny might have too?) and we headed out. 

We decided on the Old German Beer Hall for a late lunch. Like Steny's, the service was dreadful, and the atmosphere was definitely ruined by a group of young boys who insistently pounded nails into a stump in the corner of the restaurant. Johnny and I split a sausage plate, which was amazing. We attempted to visit a cheese store, but unfortunately, it was closed for renovations. I was very, very sad. The three of us rested at the hotel for a bit, and then headed back downtown in search of dinner.

This was made difficult by fireworks shows (it was July 3) and Summerfest (a large outdoor music festival on the shore of Lake Michigan). Moto's GPS was bound and determined to get us to exit somewhere we couldn't. I can't really recall how we arrived downtown, but we did, and we even found free parking. We dined right on the river at Molly Cool's and enjoyed the view of boaters heading out to the lake for the fireworks show. The service was adequate and the food was decent.

Right on the river!

Bob invited us to meet up with him, but tired and full, we opted to head back to the hotel. I passed out immediately. I have no idea what everyone else did. I am best vacation recapper ever!

Monday was Bob and Moto's departure day. It was also the Fourth of July and Johnny's birthday! (I won't tell you how old he is, except that he's older than me and not aging well, folks. Just kidding! He's aging like a fine wine. Or something.) Thanks to the holiday, a lot of places were closed to celebrate independence or drinking or whatever. We lunched close to our hotel at Charcoal Grill & Rotisserie and then Bob and Moto departed. Johnny and I decided on a Brewers game for our afternoon activity. This may or may not have been influenced by the game's promo being $1 hot dogs. Ahem.

View from our club-level seats!

We arrived at the stadium to find minimal traffic and EXTREME tailgating. These people were going crazy with the grilling and drinking and sitting around. I don't know if any of them made it inside. I have never seen tailgating like this, people. Not even at polo matches, where people live for that sort of thing. Madness. We found out all the decent seats for the game were already sold out, so we bought some from some kind of legal scalper. I'm still not sure what happened there, but stadium security was ten feet away and totally fine with the transaction. We spent an enjoyable seven innings watching the Brewers waste a big lead. I ate too many hot dogs and drank too many beers before imploring Johnny to leave. He acquiesced, and we endeavored to find our car in the massive parking lot.

Back at the hotel, we watched Hoarders and decided we should never live without a DVR again. We ate dinner at Oscar's. It was the most delicious thing I have ever eaten. The chocolate frozen custard was amazing- sweet and slightly salty. The burgers were juicy and topped with very good pickles. The onion rings were fried to perfection. It was so good, in fact, we ate there the next night and did the fat thing and each got our own pint instead of sharing. It was easier that way. I promise.

Anyway, a Hoarders marathon later, we hit the hay in anticipation of an early morning and lengthy drive out to Spring Green, WI to see Taliesin. Trusty Google Navigation had us driving through weird backroads once we got off the highway, but we made it in plenty of time for our tour. It's safe to say we generally enjoyed the tour, despite the guide making apologetic jokes at Johnny about the low ceilings. (Johnny is 6'6.)

I was disappointed the tour didn't include things like the house's bathrooms or kitchen, and thought the guide was merely mediocre. She seemed to know her script and enjoy her job, but I didn't get the impression she was especially knowledgeable. And for the price of the tour ($47/ea), I felt it should include more Frank Lloyd Wright thingies and less standing around listening to a lady talk. If you're a FLW fan, I recommend coming out to Bartlesville, Oklahoma and touring the Price Tower. The guides are superior and the price is a lot lower. Heck, you can even stay there.

I digress. Taliesin was pretty and I think it made Johnny want to move to the wilderness. Here are some pictures!

Taliesin, from the side.

Back of the house.

Garden path.

Carriage path.

Some students' apartments.

View from the hill.

On our way back to Milwaukee, we decided to stop off at Sausage Haus Meat & Deli in Oconomowoc, WI. Johnny read somewhere (I don't know where) that it was the home of Bill Clinton's favorite sausage. (I am not Googling that, nor should you.) We got a little lost driving around the incredibly pleasant lakeside town, but finally found our destination and enjoyed an extremely flavorful Italian sausage burger kind of thing. It was well worth the drive and the navigation difficulties. Oconomowoc is indescribably perfect and I think one day we'll move there, but that's another post for another day. We returned to the hotel, ate at Oscar's, and promptly dozed off.

The next morning was an early one, as we drove back to Chicago to fly home. We only ran into about 30 minutes' worth of traffic in the Windy City, and returned our car and caught our flight with no issues. Back in Tulsa, we drove home, greeted the cats, and vegged out in front of NBA2K11 until bedtime. Bliss.

Overall, I really liked Milwaukee and Wisconsin in general. The people were nice without being aggressively friendly. Everything I ate was great. Everything I drank was good. The state is pretty relaxed about alcohol, which I appreciate. (After you live in the Bible Belt, you understand my point of view on this.) The traffic was fine. Milwaukee's downtown is fun and busy. I didn't get lost in any ghettos. It was definitely a good trip.

Many thanks to Bob and Moto for joining us in this adventure! Credit is also due to Foursquare, as I had to look up a lot of check-ins to recall names of places we ate. Thanks to my awesome vet for boarding/spaying Buttons, to Katie for feeding my cats, and my barn coworkers for feeding Gina.

Join us next time- we're gallivanting off to Austin, TX for Johnny's BFF's wedding in August!

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hunted by a freak

I cannot remember the last time a thing, ie a tangible object, scared me. However, it has been just as long since a week passed where I did not foolishly allow myself to wander down a worm hole of progressively terrifying rhetorical questions.



Bristol Palin has a book? Who buys this? What do these people hope to take away from reading this book? What else do these people spend their money on? Is this connected to the persisting relevance of both the "coor's train" commercials, and the "confusing + non sequitur commentary on modern masculinity" miller light commercials???

When was the last time my favorite band changed? When was the last time I found an FM radio station that didn't do something to convince me to never listen to FM radio again within 10 minutes? How many cities will I fight this hopeless battle of finding a radio station that only plays 80's/90's alt-rock (nothing obscure, you can exclusively play REM - Green, Nirvana - Nevermind, and Pearl Jam - Ten, and I wouldn't complain)? When did my opinions on music change from twee leaning, humble brag, hipster ish, to a universal shout of "GET OFF MY LAWN"???

And most recently (with a simple epiphany): Man, I totally "get" the appeal of a Toyota Camry!

This car, starting at just over $20k, achieves an impressive 33 highway mpg with its peppy 4 cylinder despite no shortage of interior or cargo space. All seating positions are quite comfortable, and the driver has a clean view of all pertinent areas. The only thing that may hold up your purchase is choosing between "stone", "dark charcoal", and "graphite" for your exterior color!

Driving this car for a long weekend in a foreign to me city, it became abundantly clear that there is actually NOTHING wrong with it, yet the most positive thing I could find to say about it was "everything about this car is completely inoffensive". It is like instead of making a car with some outstanding feature to draw acclaim from colleague and competitor alike, Toyota chose to re-frame the argument of "what makes a car great", to make any potential dissenter seem absolutely mad, because any flaws with this car would have to be imagined. The only point against the car I could find, is that the interior controls give off a strong Jitterbug vibe (24pt font guys? and buttons I could easily manipulate with my toes... WHILE DRIVING??? I know who YOUR target demographic is!!!)

The ride is smooth, yet the handling is sharp.

The car accelerates well, yet is quiet and among the head of its class in fuel economy.

It is spacious, but easy to see out of and not totally ugly.

I totally understand why this is one of the best selling cars in America, but none of this could keep me from running to the car's privacy glass with the same fervor one hides the emblem of off brand clothing when amongst the cool.

There is no shame in the technology of this vehicle, but the gravy it poured over my personal brand prompted nothing but wishes to re-visit past decisions gone awry (also: 1000x cyanide tablets in my mouth).

You are probably laughing, but I'm afraid it may be for the wrong reasons. Let's try a different flavor analogy.

This car is sweatpants.

Comfortable. Functions adequately in any situation. Masks stains remarkably well. Everyone has a pair. You have to pay extra if you want any color other than white/black/gray.

But do you wear them when you care about the opinions of the people who will be seeing you?

NO!

I'm not saying I need designer jeans, or custom slacks for my every day, but come ON... sweat pants as your go to bottom is just depressing!

This car does everything I would ever need a car to do. Maybe I should ask all of my parents friends about how that plays out in the long run.

If finding yourself drawn to an object that is not only completely soul-less, but a scientifically backed designator of the onset of middle age, does not terrify you... then you have already lost. Paint the town beige and vote republican.

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We're Going to Milwaukee!

After receiving yet another toilet in the mail this week (thanks to customer service ineptitude), Johnny and I are taking a much-needed vacation. The destination? Milwaukee, Wisconsin! 

We're meeting up with friend and fellow blogger Moto of Journeyman Archivist for a few days of relaxation, brewery tours, beers, and sausages! Or at least that's what I'm planning. We'll be touring three breweries and the Schlitz Audubon Nature Center, checking out The Basilica of St. Josaphat, and eating at some of the city's most historic and delicious establishments. While dear Moto leaves on Monday, Johnny and I are staying until Wednesday to catch a Brewers game and possibly tour Taliesin in nearby Spring Green. 

I'll be sure to take lots of pictures to share! And who knows- maybe we'll come back with renewed zeal for home improvement!

PS:  Everyone be sure to send a tweet at Johnny (@Spizzle_Trunk) on July 4- it's his birthday!

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The Bathroom Saga

It's been over a month since our toilets went out. I won't tell you where we've been eliminating waste, because you'll only be grossed out and it's not very exciting anyway. What I will tell you is that we have tried to solve the problem.

The issue with solving the problem, of course, is that we don't know exactly what the problem is. Neither Johnny nor I are plumbers. Despite my high school shop teacher's best efforts, I don't know a damn thing about pipes or plumbing. (Sorry, Mr. Peery.) Johnny and I, however, do know how to use the internet. In some reading or another, Johnny came to the conclusion that we should just replace the hall bathroom's toilet. He ordered a super-efficient Kohler from Amazon. It arrived, and we stared at the boxes for a week, daunted by the task ahead.

Last Saturday we finally opened the boxes, ready to get to work. After all, we'd watched Home Depot's helpful video on replacing a toilet. That guy got it accomplished in 3 minutes! Surely it wouldn't take us more than an hour!

We opened the giant Kohler box and were greeted by a small piece of porcelain. Uh-oh. Maybe it's from an unimportant part of the toilet,I thought. As we opened the rest of the box, this is what we saw:

That isn't good.

Our new toilet was rendered unusable! Johnny fired off an email to the seller, and we ventured to Home Depot in Owasso, OK to pick up another toilet. Home Depot was a soothing experience, full of wide aisles and helpful employees and best of all, an identical Kohler toilet-to-go kit that was about $100 cheaper than what we'd gotten online.

Back at home, Johnny got to work sponging water out of our old toilet. I kept Buttons occupied; she was determined to help Johnny by drinking as much toilet water as possible.

Everyone was hard at work.

Johnny managed to remove the tank, and the future looked bright. 

It's a cakewalk after this!

Wrong again! As Johnny attempted to remove the bolts from the toilet's base, the rusty old things disintegrated. It was impossible to keep a wrench on them. So off to Ace Hardware we went. We purchased a small hacksaw. Johnny sawed through one bolt and we called it a night.

Yesterday evening, we got back to work on the toilet. Johnny sawed through the other bolt. Surely the hard part must be done. Both bolts were sawed through, and according to Home Depot Video Man, we just had to pop the old toilet off, replace the wax ring, and put on the new toilet. Right? Right? 

Wrong. You see, when the former owners of this house remodeled this bathroom, they grouted the toilet to the floor. No, really. Upon Johnny's mother's suggested, we tried hot water to help soften the grout. This wasn't really moving things along at the pace we'd like, so we again put down our damp sponge and fell back, defeated by our house's previous idiot owners. 

The current plan is to talk with people at Home Depot about the fastest way to dissolve the grout. Is there a chemical available? Should we just start chiseling?

On the bright (?) side, this will probably mean we will go ahead and give the bathroom a makeover, complete with new tile, paint, and a lighting. There are worse ways to spend a summer, I suppose.

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How I Know I'm Old

It's become increasingly obvious to me that I'm aging. It has less to do with my body making unauthorized changes (since when do you need arch support, left foot?) and more to do with changes in my overall outlook and attitude. I suppose this happens to everyone as they grow older, whether they're 25 or 55. What's really bizarre to me is not how different I am than I was at 15 (I've stopped wearing black nail polish, for one), but how different I am from when I was 20. In what ways, you ask?

• Bedtime. Somehow, in college, I managed to subsist on 4-5 hours of sleep a night, save for days I didn't have early classes or work. Going to bed at 3 AM and getting to a 9 AM organic chemistry class was nothing. Somehow, I now require approximately 10 hours of sleep to feel functional at work. I'm beginning to understand why my mother goes to bed at 8 PM.
• Drinking. This often went hand-in-hand with bedtime; there were countless nights I stayed up far too late playing beer pong or downing shots or swilling a near-lethal mixture of Mountain Dew, Kool-Aid, and vodka. And afternoons spent drinking Jack and Coke while playing Rock Band. Once, on my best friend Amy's birthday, drinking hunch punch for breakfast. I spent an entire summer consuming unreasonable quantities of liquor with Amy, sleeping for an hour or two, going to the barn to ride, taking a siesta, and heading to work. These days, I'm lucky if I can drink three Blue Moons before falling asleep on the sofa. My last night of "heavy" drinking with my coworker Kyla consisted of half a bottle of wine, two beers, and playing shuffleboard. I have no idea when this change from hard-drinking partier to total lightweight occurred, but it's kind of annoying. And sad.
• Grad school. Up until two-ish years ago, I was convinced I needed to go to graduate school. For what, I didn't know. I still don't. When faced with the prospect of leaving UTM, I wasn't excited. I was scared. Martin, Tennessee was where my friends lived, where I had a job, where I had fun and felt safe. I didn't want to leave. Grad school seemed like the perfect answer- I could continue on with aforementioned habits, free of social responsibility, and full of money from the federal government. When I made the hasty and fanciful decision to move to Wichita, Kansas, the idea was still lodged in the back of my mind. Over the last couple of years, it's become more and more distant, though. I think I've finally accepted that it's okay to be an adult, far away from friends and family, paying bills and going to bed at 7 PM. I've made my peace, and now all I think about when graduate school comes up is how much money it would cost me.
• Boys. The less said about this, the better, but it bears mention. I went through a slew of questionable dates over the course of a couple of years. For the most part, they were interesting, nice, witty, and total freaks. I was fainted on, cried to, introduced to parents after a single date, told about divorces...the list is endless. I suppose this is what you get for going on dates with boys from OkCupid. It was fun, but I must say I am far happier these days all settled and co-habitating with the other author of this blog. Stephanie circa 2008 would be driven crazy, but Stephanie 2011 is extraordinarily happy. 
• The music, maaan. My musical tastes have done something of a 180 over the last few years. Of course, I still adore Metallica, but you'll rarely find me listening to The Pink Spiders, Franz Ferdinand, The Acro-Brats, or Fratellis. I still enjoy these bands, but bands in my regular rotation tend to be less bratty pop-punk and more blues or folk. 
• Friends. I imagine I'll have the same friends until people die: Moto, Amy, Mikey, Greer. They are superb friends. Although I feel like I'm friendlier and more open than I was a few years ago, it's become increasingly difficult to find new friends. Without classes or sorority functions or a job full of 20-something college dropouts, I've had trouble finding people to fill the gaps left by my BFFs' absence. I made a handful of friends in Wichita, but feel I've only really made three or four buddies in Tulsa. They're all fantastic, and I'm grateful for them. But I do wish I had the huge circle of people surrounding me that I had in college. I dislike being alone! Good thing I have Johnny to hang out with all the time.

Physically, I've apparently turned into an 80-year old woman sometime in the last two years. My left heel is constantly bothering me, as is my left hip. (I'm certain these are related.) My hearing seems to be getting worse. Somehow I seem to have put on 50 pounds and it's not budging, no matter how much I exercise. Exercise isn't as fun as it used to be. And, perhaps most telling of all, I'm just a tiny bit nervous when I'm riding a difficult horse. 

But never fear! I'm not totally old and decrepit yet! How do I know? Because I still ride the crazy horses, still get on after a fall, and still live for the adrenaline surge that comes only from clearing cross-country jumps. :) 

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Long Day

Cherokee Nation
Original Black Elvis
Stop Tailgating Me

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The Past Week, By The Numbers

Seven: The number of plumbers we've called to get our toilets fixed. Seriously. Last week, the hall bathroom toilet started leaking from its base. It starts a little fountain when the master bathroom toilet is flushed. This is both mysterious and bizarre. We've called every plumber in Claremore; some promised to call us back, one promised to come out, one told us to call someone else. No one has come out and I'm seriously considering building an outhouse in the back yard.

Six: How many hours I spent playing Hoard (or as I like to call it, DRAGONS!), a ridiculously simple game about dragons and their treasure, this weekend. When PlayStation Store comes back (never?), you should go download it. Then we can play the multiplayer levels together!!

Five: The number of times Buttons asked to go outside to use the bathroom this week. I think housebreaking is happening! Woo!

Four: The number of Blue Moons I had Saturday night. Johnny and I planned a quiet evening in Tulsa going to PetSmart, eating dinner, and watching a movie at the dollar theater. I invited coworker Kyla along to join us, and she invited us over for dinner. This turned into the three of us drinking two bottles of wine, me suggesting we walk downtown to Tulsa's Blue Dome District, and staying at McNellie's until after midnight playing pool and shuffleboard. (Kyla and her random German-born teammate won shuffleboard, I think.) Johnny was a reluctant party to this adventure, but a good sport. I'll make it up to him taking him to the dollar movies next weekend!

Three: Amount of times I've played the T.I./Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeroes mashup "Bring 'Em Home" today I heard it a few weeks ago, but this site has a download. It's going straight on my workout playlist. (Which totally exists.) It's an awesome, awesome song.

Two: Number of weeks until my dear friend Greer goes back to Tennessee for the summer! I'm desperately trying to squeeze in a visit to Stillwater before she leaves for the homeland. Where has this year gone??

One: Number of weeks before I can buy The G. Her sale date is next Monday and you can bet that I'll be celebrating if I have the highest bid!

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My Mom Was Here

As I pointed out in my last post, my mother made an ill-timed, meticulously planned trip to Tulsa for the express purpose of visiting me. I think I've finally recovered. Here's what we did:

I had to take my mom to see some of Tulsa's most interesting landmarks, so we dropped by the Golden Driller...

And the giant praying hands at ORU...

And the Blue Whale on Route 66...

She made me drive to Bartlesville for a tour of Price Tower, which was admittedly pretty cool...

I also found a buffalo with extreme, disco-ball testicles in Bartlesville...

We spent an afternoon at Will Rogers Downs, betting on races...

But most of our horses came in last.

We stopped at Lake Oologah...

Dashed through downtown Tulsa to make it to the opera on time...

And generally had a very busy week! 

I think my favorite part about the whole inconvenient visit was getting to dine at some new places around town- Dilly Deli downtown, The Wild Fork in Utica Square, Frank & Lola's in Bartlesville...All were very, very good. Our tour of the Blue Bell creamery in Broken Arrow was another highlight, especially the part where they gave us an entire gallon of vanilla ice cream. My mother also met Buttons, The G, Anne, Shari, and Kyla. I think she had a good time. As for me? I hope it's five years before she decides to visit again.

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Welcome to OK, Mom!

Well, she's actually in Arkansas at the moment, but will be here in the Sooner State tomorrow. Then the fun begins! ...Not.

My mother and I get along amicably enough. She calls me weekly (down from twice weekly when I lived in Wichita) and we have a conversation about work, cats, and mutual acquaintances. I tell her what Johnny and I are up to, she tells me what various family members are up to. As her only child, I recognize the importance these phone calls have to her, and therefore, I always answer them. While this isn't my ideal relationship, it works well enough. (For reference, my ideal parental relationship is the one I share with my father: we talk on the phone once every few months, he feeds Moe for me, and sometimes he remembers when my birthday is.)

Since I moved to Oklahoma (600 miles away from my family), my mother has doggedly disparaged the state (and all prairie states in general). She seems to think it's a tumbleweed-filled landscape populated by rednecks and rough characters. She isn't entirely wrong (and I'll be the first to admit I dislike Claremore immensely), but I'm determined to show her all that vibrant, beautiful Tulsa has to offer. (Plus, I'm pretty sure if I keep her busy, she'll be too tired to bug me about going to a casino every night. SUCCESS.)

Here's what I'm looking at:

Monday

• Tulsa classics: Crazy ORU campus (praying hands, prayer tower), Golden Driller statue, Blue Whale on Route 66
• Lunch @ Dilly Deli
• Shopping in Brookside
• Dinner @ Hideaway Pizza

Tuesday

• Morning at the barn (RSU Equestrian Center): riding lesson on The G with Anne, teaching Roscoe to jump, clipping/bathing program horses (weather permitting)
• Lunch @ The Pink House
• Horse racing @ Will Rogers Downs
• Dinner @ house (I'll be sure to share the menu & recipes soon, provided they're well-received!)
• Night @ Hard Rock Casino

Wednesday

• Tour of Bluebell Ice Cream factory
• Lunch @ Billy Sims BBQ
• Shopping @ Utica Square
• Dinner @ The Wild Fork

Thursday

• Tour of Price Tower (Frank Lloyd Wright's only skyscraper)
• Lunch @ Goldie's Patio Grill
• Tour of Oak Hills Winery
• Dinner @ TBD
• Attend final dress rehearsal of Tulsa Opera's performance of Norma. (Thanks for the tickets, Anne! You're the best!!) 

I think I've planned a pretty excellent itinerary if I do say so myself. I hope my mom enjoys her trip. Mostly, though, I hope she stops hating on Oklahoma! 

(If you're wondering where Johnny is through all of this, he's meeting us for dinner on Monday and Thursday, grilling for us on Tuesday, and chilling with Buttons the rest of the time. Hooray, Johnny!)

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In Which the Local Paper is Terrible

I think my least favorite thing about living in Claremore (or any small town) is the local newspaper. I recognize its importance to many citizens; it's where people read about accomplishments of schoolchildren, achievements of local individuals, updates on city government goings-on. I understand those things are important and enjoyable reading material for many. I, however, am not one of those people.

To me, the local paper (Claremore Daily Progress, if you were wondering) is full of useless information about high school sports teams, the lunch menu at the elementary school, updates on church activities, and editorial rants about city council members. It's also littered with typos, misleading headlines, and poor design choices.

Let's examine some recent issues, shall we?

• "More legal claims targeting county" (April 17, 2011): "That includes $9,873 for a claim by Marion Gooding, a Tulsa man who was arrested for desecrating U.S. Fag, and $2,097 for Richard Fumi’s allegations that a Sheriff’s deputy injured him during an arrest." Desecrating a what? A US Fag, you say? Why is it capitalized? Where is the appropriate article before the noun?? (This typo was only in the print edition. Mercifully, the online edition reads "desecrating a U.S. flag".)
• "Meth lab found in garbage truck" (April 18, 2011): What image does this headline evoke? A scandal involving a rogue garbage truck driver cooking meth in a city vehicle, perhaps selling it on his rounds? You'd be wrong. Turns out someone deposited the remains of a meth lab into their trash can, and said contents eventually made it to a garbage truck. Is it really a meth lab when it's just a bunch of empty Claritin boxes??

And then there's the content itself. I won't slam the sports updates or the reports of spelling bee winners. Those things are important to most of the community, and I know if I had a kid playing baseball for the Zebras, I'd clip every one of those articles out, put them in a folder, and promptly forget where I placed it. My issues with the Progress are some of the idiotic drivel they publish under the pretense of "news". Take this column from last : September, written by special columnist Walt Thurn: "Christians, Muslims, and the Undecided". It's the first of a series focusing on differences between Christians and Muslims which seems to try to convert the undecided to Christianity under the guise of "explaining" the two religions. Here are some highlights:

• "Islam, on the other hand, subscribes very strongly to ‘Islamic Supremacism’ and believes that rejecters or infidels should be confronted immediately with some form of jihad." (There are three forms of jihad, two of which have nothing to do with warfare.)
• "Also to be considered in future weeks is the reality that this is America and this country was founded on Christian principles while allowing religious freedom." (In reality, the country was founded along pretty generous Deist principles.)
• "We have offered the freedom of religion to others, but the question is being raised whether we are giving up some basic freedoms in order to preserve the freedoms of those who may not agree with our constitution or wish to be assimilated into our way of life." (The author declines to outline which basic freedoms Americans are giving up.)

In subsequent columns, Thrun makes a number of incorrect statements on Islamic faith and continues to write with a condescending attitude towards those of the Islamic faith. I was surprised and deeply concerned that the local paper was willing to publish such an inflammatory column; I suppose in reality, I was the only one inflamed. After all, in a city of 75% white people deep in the Bible Belt, what can you expect?

I expect good reporting from my local media, that's what. Fair and balanced coverage on city, county, and state happenings. Real news- not dozens of human interest stories. I expect someone to proofread articles before they're published, and to edit articles and headlines when necessary. I expect a newspaper.

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Do you know when the best time for a snack is???

Right after you finish showing me how stupid the lyrics to my favorite songs are!!!!

Friggin FRIG Pandora, why must you do this???? Just... STOP OR SOMETHING!!!!!!!!!!

BACK STORY: I have paid tribute to vocal timbre over lyric content (style over substance? My best explanation for not really caring about Bob Dylan and Tom Waits, while flipping out for any hackneyed gang led by a cooey voiced female?) since back in the day. This has led to events such as: buying Scarlett Johansson's cd, talking about how much I like a song, only to have its content "being kind of pro-rapey" pointed out to me; digging around the internet for hours in hope of unearthing supa secret Velocity Girl bootlegs; an indefensible "pro She and Him" stance; and having no idea what a single Polvo lyric is despite having listened through each of their cd's at least 100x (their song titles are cool though, amirite???).

After having the lyrics to some long time faves literally written out for me though... I am pretty sure I would get down to a My Bloody Valentine/Stereolab/Lush/Cocteau Twins/etc. cover of Friday. Going a step further, I kind of think that is all 'Isn't Anything' is :[

#crisisoftaste

#thingsyoualwayssortofknewbutstilldontlikehavingpointedouttoyou

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