I absolutely hate the word “blog”

Let’s see if it sticks.

For the past several years, people keep telling me I ought to be writing for a living. And in all my attempts to take this solid advice, I struggle with issues of brevity. (Thank God that Grant’s equally verbose, or he never would’ve made it through my Craigslist ad.) I particularly get told I should write in response to my real-life stories, recounted with my traditional sarcastic flair.

Lately, left and right, everyone has been telling me to read Eat, Pray, Love, which I just finished. And what an incredible book it was! Elizabeth Gilbert recants the stories of her travels around the globe and through various emotional stages with such wit and soul that I openly giggled the whole way through. Several close friends have told me that Gilbert’s style reminds them of mine, which I consider to be high praise! At the risk of sounding conceited, I can see where they’re coming from — we definitely share a few core traits, though her writing is obviously a lot more mature.

As soon as I finished Gilbert’s book, my nightstand became occupied by Telling True Stories. This was a birthday gift from a great mentor-friend who always encourages my writing (and who happens to be a fabulous journalist herself). And the more I read, the more I’m starting to put two and two together…

Q: So if I struggle so damn hard with brevity in shorter pieces, and my narrative nonfiction elicits so many compliments, why the hell don’t I just write a book of my own?

A: Because then I’d be doing exactly what my mother has been telling me to do since I was in middle school.

Happy (almost) Mothers’ Day, Mom. Today marks the day that I officially start taking this book-writing idea seriously. Well done, there — it only took you about 15 years. And Gilbert, with all due respect, I’m copying you. Hey, highest form of flattery and all that, right?

Another good DIY trick! I sometimes use Courvoisier to spike sangria, mulled wine and whipping cream, and I almost always buy the mini-bottles since they’re so cheap and I don’t use much. These are one of the few mini-bottled alcohols that still come in glass instead of cheap crappy plastic, and I’ve been compulsively hanging onto my empties for a few months without really knowing why.

But I got a great idea — they’re perfect for small batches of fresh salad dressing. (I love making my own dressing at home, but it doesn’t have much of a shelf life so I prefer to make tiny quantities.) I don’t love sticking it in an unslightly Tupperware, because it doesn’t pour smoothly. And I don’t like having my Pyrex measuring cups occupied by dressing, in case I need them for cooking.

Voilà la solution! Mini Courvoisier bottles are tiny and pourable and cute on the table, and I get to re-use something that would otherwise be junk. And now I finally have a reason for having hoarded all the little bottles like some kind of glass-loving treasure freak.

This would be kind of a cheap post without a recipe, though, wouldn’t it? Normally I’m terrible about writing such things down, and this is no exception, so all quantities are completely and totally invented on the spot, but I’m pretty sure they’re not far off. Enjoy!

Honey Mustard Dressing

1 Tbsp dijon mustard
1 Tbsp dry white wine
2 Tbsp apple cider vinegar
3 Tbsp milk, kefir or yogurt (depending on how thick you want your dressing to be)
2 tsp honey
splash soy sauce — about 1/2 tsp — optional
1 tsp nutritional/brewer’s yeast — optional
salt, pepper and garlic to taste — optional

Combine, shake vigorously, and enjoy!

So I must say, I’m pretty pleased with my latest innovation that allows Grant to enjoy his DDR like the King of Cosmos intended.

Ever since we moved into our new apartment he hasn’t been able to play, because something about the ’70s shag carpeting in here just doesn’t agree with the grippy bottom of the DDR pad. All grippiness seems to have disappeared, so the pad would slip and slide around while he was jumping, and it just wasn’t workable.

The thing is, the next level of quality in dance pads are the Cobalt Flux ones, that retail for $300 or so. So I started brainstorming ways we might apply some sort of fixit solution to our existing pads, at least until we win the lottery (or until we’re both gainfully employed again).

I couldn’t think of what might work well, but it came to me when I was cleaning out my closet and I came across an extra yoga mat. Perfect! Sticky, grippy, durable, but not so sticky that it has to actually get adhesive on our carpet. So I bought a hot glue gun, trimmed my extra yoga mat to fit the pad, and slapped it on there.

We tried it out the other day, and they seem to work just great!

ETA: Except that we’ve since discovered that the down arrow is broken. On both of our pads. So we were left with zero more dance pads and one fewer yoga mats. Ah well, we managed to borrow a Cobalt Flux pad from a pal to test it out, so maybe we’ll upgrade someday.

Dammit.

Ah, I love a great cheap solution. Grant and I live in domestic bliss, for the most part, but we both have annoying habits that the other one doesn’t love.

One of the things that annoys me is that Grant tends to discard his clothing from the day in a pile on the bedroom floor, in a very specific spot. For a while after we first moved in together, I mindlessly picked it up and stuck it in the laundry hamper in the closet. But eventually, I realized that that was kind of annoying to have to do. So the nagging began.

We both tend to be pretty good about nagging — gentle, loving, and as non-annoying as possible. But it doesn’t always get the job done. (And there’s plenty we both nag each other about.) So I started trying to come up with creative non-nagging solutions. I was going to buy a nice-looking laundry hamper and put it in the exact spot where he always sheds his clothes.

But that wasn’t cheap, and we don’t really need more *stuff* junking up our lives. Half the reason we’re always nagging each other is to clear up all the damn clutter we seem to inevitably wind up in anyway. So I was delighted when I came up with this easy, temporary, environmentally friendly/friendlier, and cheap solution.

I’m hoping this can serve as a visual reminder to stick stuff where it goes, although the problem usually arises because I’ve gone to bed before him, and he doesn’t want to disturb me by turning on the light or opening the closet door. Alas, perhaps it’ll just be another gentle and humorous nag to add to the bundle. But at least it’s shiny!