house

No Soliciting

Aaron was assembling his lunch this afternoon/evening (since he works nights) when we heard two quick rings of the doorbell and two quick knocks on the front door. That’s usually the UPS man’s MO, so Aaron went over to the door and peeked through the peephole.

“I don’t know who that is,” he said, turning back toward the kitchen, “so I’m not answering it. Some lady with a clipboard.”

Not ten seconds later, the person rang and knocked again, and I saw Aaron’s eyes flare before he turned to stride back toward the door. I stayed in the kitchen, unseen, while I listened to the exchange:

Aaron: Can I help you?
Woman: Good afternoon! How are you today?
Aaron: Can you read?
(I assumed he was pointing at our prominently displayed “No Soliciting” sign.)
Woman: Yes.
Aaron: Thank you.
Woman (just before door closes): Piece of shit.
Aaron (yanking the door back open): Fuck you, too!

According to Aaron, the woman flipped him off from the driveway as she walked off, and her clipboard read American something-or-other. I’m guessing she was a political pollster of some kind, and I’m hoping she wasn’t working on behalf of a charitable organization, considering her reactions.

As for me, I prefer to go the more passive-aggressive route of not answering the door at all, even after the second knock, but it’s easier to go that route when the car isn’t in the driveway and I can feign not being home. Aaron’s OK with being a little more confrontational than I am, generally speaking.

Still, though, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect to be left alone by pollsters and solicitors and proselytors when you post a No Soliciting sign right next to your doorbell.

food 5 Comments

Attempt at Light Coconut Pie, Take 1

After picking up a recipe for Key Lime Pie at my Weight Watchers meeting last week, I decided to think of variations to the basic recipe to make it a coconut pie for my upcoming luau. After a little searching online, though, I found a recipe for Light Coconut Pie that promised to be just what I was looking for.

I assembled the no-bake pie this afternoon, ramping up the “light” part even more than the recipe said: lowfat graham cracker crust, Splenda instead of sugar, and Cool Whip Free (which just tastes like Cool Whip to me). After the pie was assembled and cooling/setting in the fridge, I did the math to see how many points one piece of pie would be.

Damn you, sweetened coconut flakes. Damn you to hell.

We were even at Claudia’s Natural Food Market this weekend, and saw unsweetened organic coconut, and didn’t buy it, thinking that it was a little over-the-top… and not realizing that Meijer only sold sweetened coconut. Turns out that the sweetened coconut flakes added the most calories to the pie overall.

One piece of “light” coconut pie? EIGHT points. That’s one-eighth of a normal-sized pie. Not exactly “light” in my book, but certainly lighter than a normal dessert, I suppose.

Guess I’ll have to do a little more experimenting, and try the unsweetened coconut next time. I’m sure I’ll have a passably light coconut pie by luau time.

delicious

links for 2008-05-24

memories

Adolescent Karma

If someone would have told my sixth-grade self that everyone’s awkward at age eleven, I would have thought they were just trying to make me feel better.

I was the new girl. Not only that, but I was chunky — almost 5’7″ and 160 lbs, just barely starting my growth spurt — with no sense of style and what seemed like a bumper crop of acne. I also got placed in the advanced class with the smart kids, as I had in the two previous elementaries I’d attended. Add to that my love for music class and choir (which were more of a stigma than being in the supplemental advanced art class in the afternoons), and I was one seriously dorky kid.

I felt like I only had one friend in the whole school (although I later learned that I was mistaken, at least from others’ point of view), and even she didn’t consider herself my “best friend.” I felt taunted and persecuted and awkward in so many ways. I heard people talking about me when they didn’t think I was listening, calling me fat and lazy and stuck-up.

That’s why the unannounced Scoliosis Screening ultimately gave me such sweet and silent satisfaction.

For those who don’t know or don’t remember from middle school or junior high, scoliosis is a condition wherein the spine develops an unusual curve, described to us sixth-graders as an S-curve (although it can be more complex). As it often develops or becomes more pronounced during adolescence, we were the perfect age group to screen.

Screening involves standing in front of a qualified medical professional and bending forward in a deep bow, so the nurse or therapist can clearly see the spine.

The shirtless spine.

They took the girls to the girls’ restroom — I forget what they did with the boys — and had us each stand in an open bathroom stall, so only the nurse could see, for privacy’s sake. Then we removed our shirts, leaving our undergarments on, and bent over as instructed.

However.

The skinny girls? They had no boobs at age eleven. Unlike me, who did. For them, wearing a bra was more of a grown-up novelty than a necessity. For me, it was starting to become necessary.

One of my very few sweet moments of karmic bliss that year was listening to the snobby popular girls twitter amongst themselves in the girls’ bathroom about how they couldn’t believe this was happening to them, how they didn’t wear a bra today! And they had to take their shirts off for the creepy nurse ladies!

It didn’t make me any more popular or more accepted, but I sure was glad I’d worn a bra that day.

delicious

links for 2008-05-23