The Angels Take the Ponds...

It takes a lot to get me to cry for a tv show or a movie, but Doctor Who managed to do just that last night.  And I never even loved Amy all that much.  I didn't dislike her, but I just never really connected with her terribly closely.  Whatever your feelings for the Ponds, though, I think it'd be hard not to admit that Moffat created the perfect farewell for them.

There were a few things that were a bit predictable in the episode.  I could see some of the plot points coming beforehand, which is fairly unusual for the show, but that didn't make it any less enjoyable.  In fact, I loved pretty much everything about it.  Except River's fedora.  I wasn't a fan of that.  I also did take mild offense when Rory told the Doctor that he's the only person who could be attracted to characters in a book because pretty much all of my major crushes have been on fictional characters.

The set-up as a detective noir story was fantastic.  I'm a sucker for that kind of thing.  I love the dark atmosphere it gave to the story we already knew was going to be heartbreaking.  As if the angels weren't scary enough on their own, it added another level of creepiness.

I loved the fact that the Angels were back to their time zapping hunting ways again.  I somehow find that even more scary than the way that they killed people in the "The Time of the Angels."  There were so many throwbacks to "Blink" (one of my favorite episodes of all time) in the show last night that I was enjoying myself so much that I almost forgot that there was major sadness on the horizon.  Plus, now I get to be terrified of the Statue of Liberty too, so I'm super excited about that.

My only real question with the episode is the part about the TARDIS not being able to go back to 1930s New York.  In series three, the Doctor and Martha visited New York during the Great Depression in "Daleks in Manhattan."  I'm not sure exactly which year that was, but it would've had to be sometime during the '30s.  So now I'm trying to figure out whether the time problem applies only to 1938 and beyond.  If so, why was he able to land the TARDIS perfectly fine in 2012.  Maybe I'm over-thinking it.

At any rate, I thought it was the perfect goodbye to the Ponds in a sad, but sort of happy way.  I'm super excited for the Christmas special and finding out more about Oswin/Clara and how she meets the Doctor.  There are so many great things to come and I can't wait to see how the dynamics change with the Doctor starting a relationship with a new companion.

Happy! Punctuation, Day...

I'm a full-fledged grammar nazi.  I get a little nervous tic when I see things written poorly.  My current crusade: it's "should have" or "should've," not "should of."  I expend a lot of self-control not correcting grammar on the internet and in text messages.  I even had to restrain myself from correcting the previously mentioned "should of" error in a hashtag my brother posted on Twitter.  A hashtag.  Obviously I have some issues.

However, those issues can be addressed on another day because today is National Punctuation Day.  It's a perfect excuse to finally let loose and send that text message containing a (properly used) semicolon that you've been bottling up inside for ages.  Do it.  It'll feel good.  I promise.  Now, if only we could get everyone on the internet to join in the celebration...

Waiting for The Doctor...

Every Saturday, I eagerly anticipate the new episode of Doctor Who.  I triple check my DVR to make sure that the recording is set properly and that nobody has cancelled it to record a football game instead.  And then I wait.  And wait.  And wait some more.  The day seems to drag along while I wait for the episode to start.

There's just one problem: I live in the United States.  Normally, I'm more than happy with that.  But not on Saturdays.  On Saturdays, I'm stuck waiting an extra six hours or so for the new episode.  I hide from Twitter and my RSS feeds in an attempt to avoid spoilers and also to protect myself from copious amounts of jealousy directed at those people who are lucky enough to be able to watch the new show sooner than I can.

I'm sure I could find some sort of live streaming site to watch the show sooner, but I've never been a fan of watching pixelated, jumpy feeds where the audio never quite syncs up with the video.  Especially for shows that I love.  So I'll just wait.  I've still got five and a half hours left until the show starts here in the Eastern Time Zone.  In the meantime, I guess I'll watch some college football and read a book or two and hope that nobody kicks me off of the tv when the time comes.  And yes, I'll try to fight down my jealousy.  See you on the other side, Twitterverse.

Hobbit Day...

Happy Hobbit Day, fellow Tolkien fans!  Today is said to be the birthday of both Bilbo and Frodo Baggins, so pass around the cake and have an extra helping of Second Breakfast to celebrate.  If you're really ambitious, you could have a fireworks display in honor of the holiday, but that could be awkward to try to explain to your neighbors.  Maybe it's best to just go barefoot as a tribute.

We're only a few months away from the release of The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, as well, so we've also got that to celebrate.  It's a great time to lend your copy of The Hobbit to a friend who's never read it so they can get up to speed for the movie release (if you're one of those people who's comfortable parting with their books).  At any rate, it's a great excuse to pay another visit to Middle Earth and revel in the glory of the stories that have come out of it.

Downton Abbey Addiction...

I have a particular "type" when it comes to entertainment, whether it's books, tv, or movies.  I like excitement.  If it involves gunfire, explosions, or fight scenes, I'm usually pretty happy.  I've never had any interest in the typical girly type of stories.  I don't like dramas or "deep" movies and I'll take a Tom Clancy book over Jane Austen any day.  In light of that, you'll understand my confusion over my incredible addiction to Downton Abbey.

It makes no sense at all.  For all intents and purposes, I should hate this show.  Or at least have a very strong dislike of it.  It's loaded up with romantic intrigue, rich people being waited on hand and foot, and not even a hint of a car chase.  On the surface, there's nothing there for me.

But I love it.  I absolutely love it.  Like most of the BBC programming I watch, I was a bit of a late-comer to the fandom.  Also, in the interest of full disclosure, the first time I heard of the show was on Twitter last fall.  It took me a solid five months to realize that it wasn't called DowntoWn Abbey.  It didn't really seem like my cup of tea (see what I did there?), but I read too many rave reviews from people whose taste I trust and I finally decided to give it a shot.  I was hooked from the start of the very first episode.  I love the people.  I love the historical setting.  I even love the occasional American joke they make.

Somehow, the writers and actors have managed to make me truly care about these characters' lives, which is quite a feat considering how dispassionate I am about almost everyone (real people included).  There have been moments that have made me actually squeal out loud and clap my hands.  Likewise, there have been moments that have made me cry (again, a feat of epic proportions).  I can't describe what it is.  This show has found some magical formula that has me hooked for reasons I'm not sure I'll ever be able to explain.  Whatever it is, I'm totally happy with it.  I'm just enjoying the ride.  (And oh, was the latest episode ever amazing?)

Die Trying...

Last month (most likely in an attempt to transfer some of her book collection out of her room and into mine), my mom introduced me to an author named Lee Child.  Actually, the real reason was because I mentioned seeing a trailer for a movie called Jack Reacher that looked good even though it had Tom Cruise in it and she informed me that Reacher was one of her favorite literary characters.  But I think that getting rid of some books was also part of her motivation.  We've always had similar taste in reading material, so it was only natural that I would quickly come to love the series.

The first thing I want to note, since I've already brought up the upcoming movie, is that putting Tom Cruise in this role is possibly the worst casting I've ever seen.  And I'm a girl who's grown up being disappointed at big screen adaptations of books that I love.  I used to watch the Nancy Drew tv series, so this is really saying something.  In the books, Jack Reacher, the character Cruise will be playing, is described as an extremely tall (6'5", I believe), powerful, intimidating blond man who sticks out in a crowd just because you plain old can't miss him.  Does that sound even remotely like Tom Cruse to anyone?  No?  I didn't think so.  Re-watching the trailer after having read a few of the Reacher books only made this more clear.  Everything is wrong.  But that's beside the point.

I just finished Die Trying, which is the second Reacher novel.  In this one, he accidentally gets kidnapped because he happens to be standing in the wrong place at the wrong time.  It turns out that it's a pretty good thing he did because he plays a major role in saving the day at the end of the book.  I hope that's not too spoilery; I figured it was more or less obvious.  The kidnapping sets off a cross-country journey of events that leaves Reacher out in the middle of the woods.  It's out there that he seems to be more in his element than in any other situation his character has been in (at least as far as I've read).  The ending is quite a page-turner and I ended up staying up half the night to finish it.  I'm not kidding: it was 4 am before I finally went to bed.  It's funny how "I'll just read one more chapter" never seems to work out that way.

What makes Reacher a great character is that he's a thinker.  He's smart.  Sure, he's supremely capable when it comes to physical violence--he excels at fighting and was a decorated sniper, but when it comes down to it, he succeeds where others fail because he can out-think his opponents.  He manages to stay a step ahead of them and in the end, that's what gets him through the troubles he finds himself in.  Plus, once he comes across an injustice or someone who's doing bad things to innocent people, he won't rest until he eliminates the aggressor.  He's got the kind of black and white view of justice that's supremely entertaining in literature, even if it's a lot less practical in real life.

I definitely recommend checking out the Reacher books, especially if you plan to see the movie.  I'm an avid book-before-the-movie believer.  It might only serve to rile you up as you watch Tom Cruise try to play Reacher, but the books are well worth it.

Forays into Baking...

You know, for an educated, modern, extraordinarily independent woman, I'd make an excellent housewife.  As long as I could hire a maid to do the cleaning.  Ok, so basically I'd just be a really good stay at home cook who read a lot of books and took long bike rides to restaurants for lunch before coming home and whipping up a fabulous dessert/dinner.  But I would be good at it.

Since I didn't have a subbing job today, I was left with a lot of free time.  Plus, it was Friday, so the library was closed.  This is usually not something that ends well.  We've had a couple of graham cracker pie crusts in our pantry for ages, and this afternoon, I felt them calling out to me to be made into a pie.  I was going to make one of my delicious s'more pies, but we didn't have any chocolate pudding.  I had some vanilla, but vanilla-marshmallow pie just didn't sound that good.  That's when I got the brilliant idea to make a fruit pie.  I've never made a real pie before, so this was going to be just the adventure I needed to spice up my Friday afternoon.

I had bought a package of golden raspberries earlier in the week that I wasn't hugely fond of, so I knew right away that those were going to be a part of the pie.  However, that was the only fruit in our entire house, and I knew I needed some more.  I hopped on my bike (this has recently become a huge component of my fitness plan) and headed off to the local Meijer.  I had intended to get some blueberries and apples, but blueberries were way expensive, so I just settled for two large apples.  And store brand Oreos.  Those weren't for the pie, but they were on sale and I've got something great planned for them in the future.

When I got home, I got right to work on my pie.  I cobbled the recipe together (as usual) from a few hastily googled recipes and got to work.  First, I cored and sliced the apples I had bought (one gala and one golden delicious).  In all my life, I've never actually used the apple corer/slicer thingy.  I'm a firm believer in just biting into apples.  It appeals to the animal part of my brain.  Then I sliced each of the large apple slices into three thinner slices and then cut those into thirds lengthwise.

I don't know what kind of knife that is, but it makes me feel like Aladdin, so I like it.

Once the apple slicing (by far the hardest part of the process) was completed, I mixed the flour, sugar, and cinnamon together in a bowl.  Then I stirred the apples in until they were evenly coated.  Since I was using a graham cracker crust that didn't really need to be baked, I was afraid that if I put the fruit filling in cold, the crust would burn before the pie was fully baked.  I also decided that I wanted my pie to be a little less dry inside, so I tossed the whole mixture into a saucepan and added a 1/2 cup of water.  I simmered it for a bit and then added another 1/2 cup of water.

Once I was satisfied that the apples were warmed up enough, I spooned half of the mixture into the bottom of the pie pan.  Then I spread the golden raspberries over it and poured the rest of the apples on top.  Then I got to work on the crumble topping.  This was by far the tastiest part of the pie.  In fact, I'm having a hard time preventing myself from standing at the counter and eating the topping off of the remaining third of the pie.

The crumble topping has flour, brown sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg.  I used a potato masher to mix in 1/4 cup of unmelted butter.  This requires a surprising amount of effort.  Once I'd gotten it evenly mixed so that it formed the perfect crumbles, I sprinkled it over the top of the fruit filling.  I had more than enough to make a nice, even coating.  After that, it was into the oven for 35 agonizing minutes as I sat at my computer in the kitchen and reveled in the aroma of baking cinnamon and apples.

Smells like heaven.  Tastes even better.

The pie turned out amazing, if I do say so myself.  Apple-golden raspberry pie isn't as glorified as plain old apple pie, but it should be.  It was not nearly as complicated as I thought it would be.  It turns out that the saying "easy as pie" is true after all.  I managed to let it cool for a whole ten minutes before I cut myself a slice.  I'm finally starting to get a hang of this not-burning-my-tongue thing.  Almost.  It was delicious.  The golden raspberries were delightful mixed in with the apples and the crumble topping was heavenly.  I want to eat all of the pie.  All of it.  And I'm not usually a huge pie fan.  I must make another one soon.  We've got another pie crust left, and there are so many different kinds of fruits to try in it.

Here's my recipe:

3/4 cup flour, divided
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp cinnamon, divided
1 large gala apple
1 large golden delicious apple
1 cup water
5 oz golden raspberries
1 graham cracker pie crust
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/4 cup butter, slightly softened

1.  In a medium bowl, mix 1/4 cup of the flour, the sugar, and 1/2 tsp of the cinnamon.  Set aside.
2.  Slice the apples into small, bite-sized pieces.
3.  Mix the apples into the dry mixture until evenly coated.
4.  Transfer mixture to medium sauce pan.  Add water 1/2 cup at a time.  Simmer on low for 5-10 minutes, stirring constantly to prevent burning.
5.  Spoon half of the apple mixture into the bottom of the pre-made pie crust.  Spread raspberries evenly over the mixture.  Pour the rest of the apple mixture on top of the raspberries.  The fruit filling should be mounded over the top of the pie crust depending on the size of the apples you used.
6.  Mix the remaining 1/2 cup flour, brown sugar, 1/2 tsp cinnamon, and 1/4 tsp nutmeg in a small mixing bowl.  Cut in the softened butter (I used a potato masher) until it is evenly mixed and forms loose chunks.
7.  Sprinkle this evenly over the top of the pie, making sure that you cover as much of it as possible.
8.  Place pie onto a baking sheet in case the fruit filling bubbles over.  Bake at 375 F (or 350 F convection) for 35 minutes.  Remove, cool, and enjoy.

Two Hours -- Two Libraries...

I was the weird kid who got excited about going to the library.  It was an exciting trip for me and was often granted as a reward for chores or just generally being awesome.  During the summers, I would load up a basket with almost two dozen Nancy Drew books at a time and finish them all within a week.  We spent loads of time there, checking out educational videos (you know, back when VHS tapes seemed cool) and browsing the bookshelves.  I used to think the adult section (not that kind of adult) was this mysterious other world where grown-ups gathered and the air smelled like old books.  I was also--and still am--a book sniffer.  I can't help myself; I just like the way they smell.  But I digress.  My point is that I've had a life-long love affair with my local public library.

A couple of years ago, citing budget cuts, our city council threatened to close the library.  I was heart-broken.  I was also defiant.  I come from a highly-educated suburb where the schools are fantastic.  I've seen (and joined) people lining up outside of the library waiting for it to open.  There are some afternoons on which it's hard to find parking.  And we have a large parking lot.  Good luck getting a study table on a Saturday afternoon.  We are a city that loves its library.  There was no way the council could shut it down and get away with it.  I was fully prepared to stage a sit-in if need be.  But part of me also panicked.  What if they actually did it?  Hundreds of childhood memories were tied up in that slightly-shabby, very 1970s-esque building.  Plus, it contained an almost limitless supply of my favorite passtime: books.  Sure enough, the city council ended up keeping the library going.  I visit almost every day now that I'm living back home.

The library is close enough to my house that it's become a vital part of my exercise regimen.  I hate walking or running in circles around my block.  I like to go somewhere.  The library, a 1.57 trip from my front door is a great solution.  As long as it's not raining (or, soon, snowing), it's the perfect destination for a walk, jog, or bike ride.  Sometimes I have an errand to run there: picking up something on hold, dropping off something that's due, stocking up on audio books so I don't lose my mind on an 1100-mile solo roadtrip.  Sometimes I just take a book with me and chill out in the lounge for a bit or browse the shelves, mentally adding to my "to-read" list before I head back home.

I've attended two major universities during my academic career, so my exposure to libraries only got grander after leaving home.  You know what I mean: enormous old buildings stuffed to the brim with what seems like every book ever published.  Buildings you could get lost in and not find your way out until you've spent a week sustaining yourself by gnawing on old leather bindings.  What I'm trying to say is that I'm used to great, big libraries that are teeming with people.

This afternoon, I had to have a test proctored at a library in the city next to mine.  Before leaving to take the test, I swung by my library to drop off a book that was due.  Then I set out to this other library.  I walked in and stopped at the entrance.  Looked around.  Blinked.  It was tiny.  I never visited the youth section, but I knew instinctively that the whole collection wouldn't have had enough Nancy Drew books to sustain one week of my childhood summer reading habits.  The computer lab was tiny and filled with monitors old enough to not be flat-screens.  It was...sad.  Two communities, right next door to each other, and their entire library could fit into the youth section at ours.

I can't imagine growing up without a library like mine.  I think about all of the stories I would've missed out on, all the ideas I might not have had, the journeys my imagination wouldn't have taken if I hadn't had immediate and almost unfettered access to all of those books.  Something like 98 or 99% of our city's public high school graduates go on to college.  I don't know this other town's exact stats, but I know that their numbers are a lot lower.  Maybe that has something to do with it.

Disney Cooking...

One of my great loves in life has always been Disney.  The movies, the songs, the parks, you name it and I probably love it.  Except for Sleeping Beauty.  I don't like her.  Don't get me started on that.  Between three different Disney internships, I lived right next to Disney World for almost two years.  One of my favorite perks of living at the greatest collection of theme parks and resorts in the entire world?  The food.  Oh, yes, the delicious, decadent food.  Food so good that I would visit the parks or hotels alone just to eat it if I couldn't find anyone to accompany me.

Ooh la la!

My favorite restaurant by far is Pioneer Hall.  It's the home to the Hoop Dee Doo Revue.  I've been pretty much obsessed with this dinner show since I was a child.  My family used to vacation there almost every year and we'd always have dinner at the Hoop once.  The show's not for everyone--you have to have an appreciation of cheesy humor, slapstick comedy, and bear jokes to really love it (or just indulge in the bottomless sangria that comes with your meal).  As luck would have it, I happen to particularly enjoy that type of humor.  The show has recently undergone some changes and it's not quite what it used to be, but it's still worth checking out.  At the end of every show (this part remains unchanged), they select a few audience volunteers.  One of them is always a young woman.  For as long as I can remember, I've been dying to be that volunteer.  She gets to dress up as a can can dancer and tell a bear joke.  What else could a girl want?  I finally after years of silent hoping got a chance to do just that last fall, thus making one of my great life dreams come true.  Don't I look great?  Side note: it was really awkward because I was wearing a short dress and I'm pretty sure that the people in the front row could see straight up it.  But I digress.  This was about food.

One of my favorite items on the Hoop's menu is the cornbread that is served when you're seated.  I love cornbread.  It's delicious.  Theirs is no exception.  A few weeks ago, I was trolling Pinterest and I found a link to a site that lists tons and tons of Disney World recipes.  One of them was for Hoop Dee Doo Cornbread.  I jumped out of my chair and almost forgot to repin it in my excitement.  Luckily, I got a hold of myself.  I just needed to buy corn meal.  Is corn meal used for anything else?  I ask because I have a large container of it now and the only thing I've ever used corn meal for in my life was making this batch of cornbread.  Not that making several more pans of it would be an issue or anything...  I'm just curious.

Anyway, despite my love of cornbread, I've never made it before.  I bake a lot of desserts and am developing quite a talent for casseroles, but cornbread has never crossed my mind as something to bake.  I have no idea why.  After reading the recipe over, I determined that cornbread is basically cake with some corn meal in it.  I guess that explains why I like it so much.  My sister and I quickly whipped up a batch and tossed it in the oven.  It's super easy; if you can measure and stir, it'd be pretty hard to mess this up.  This was our result:

It tastes like Disney World!

The cornbread was delicious, as expected.  It's been almost a year since I ate at the Hoop, so I honestly can't vouch for the fact that it tastes just like it's supposed to, but if I closed my eyes and imagined myself in a big, rustic dining hall with some banjo music, I could picture it being right at home.  Despite my earlier musings, I fully expect to use the rest of my corn meal making repeated batches of this.  Eat it right out of the oven.  It's heavenly.  The recipe can be found here.  I definitely recommend checking out the other recipes listed on that site.  This is the only one I've tried so far, but I've got a whole list of things I want to cook off of it.

The Spies of Warsaw...

I love spy novels.  A lot.  I don't care when or where they're set, there's something about a lone operative working through tremendous danger to fight for their cause that hooks me every time.  I've had a bunch of highly acclaimed spy novels on my "to-read" list for a while now and I recently checked one of them off thanks to David Tennant.

Not literally, of course.  I don't mean to say that he sat down and read me the book; I'm not sure I could've handled that.  I did, however, watch an interview with him in which he talked about his upcoming BBC mini-series based on The Spies of Warsaw by Alan Furst and think to myself, "Hey! I've been meaning to read that book for ages!  I need to go to the library right now."  I'm a avid believer in reading the book before the movie/tv adaptation (hence my week-long Hunger Games trilogy binge prior to the movie release earlier this year and failure to keep up with the Game of Thrones show) and as I wouldn't dream of missing a period spy drama staring my favorite Doctor, reading this book was suddenly an urgent matter.

The book was awesome.  I love exciting and suspenseful stories.  I love books that are well-written.  The Spies of Warsaw was both.  I've already checked out two other Furst books from the library since I finished Spies.  The best part of the book was the way Furst manages to immerse the reader in the setting.  There's nothing better than being in the middle of a book and feeling like you've been transported to its world.  I've never been to Warsaw or any of the other European cities the characters visit in the book, and I certainly didn't experience the 1930s, but I felt like I was there with them.  I wanted to be a part of their world and help them out.  There are parts of the book in which I want to reach through the pages and shake the characters by the shoulders and warn them about what Hitler has in store for them.  ("You idiots! He's going to invade through Belgium and make your stupid Maginot Line irrelevant!)  As far as I'm concerned, that's the mark of a great book.

The book focuses on a French military attache named Jean-Francois Mercier (Tennant is going to be great as Mercier [duh].  I could really picture him in the role as I read the book.) who is stationed in Warsaw and is set a bit prior to the German invasion of Poland that started WWII.  These were the murky years just before the war in which Hitler was already beginning to menace the rest of Europe.  Mercier struggles to turn up information that could give the French government clues as to Germany's intentions, but the leaders in charge don't necessarily want to listen when his intelligence contradicts what they believe the Germans will do.  It's a classic problem that we can all relate to even today.

I'd definitely recommend picking up a copy of Spies.  It really is a great read, and I've loved every bit of Furst's writing so far.  I'm currently working my way through The Polish Officer which is one of his earlier novels.  One of the smaller characters from Spies is also in this book.  It's a little less polished than Spies, but it's still a great read.  I also picked up Red Gold and I'm anxious to start that one.

Going Places...

My little sister had a soccer tournament about six hours away from hour house this weekend.  It was in a place called Rockford, IL, which, while appearing to be a decent place to live, isn't exactly a hopping tourist destination.  Nevertheless, I decided to accompany my family on their journey.  I don't particularly care for soccer, and Rockford has never even come close to making it onto my Top 50 list of cities I want to visit, but I went anyway.  I just like going places.  I want to see the world; not just the Londons and Parises and New Yorks, but also the corn fields and the small towns and the little local restaurants.  There is almost nowhere in the world that I would turn down a trip to.  So I went.  And I had a good time.

I have officially deemed the weekend a success because I read over 500 pages between the car rides, sitting at the soccer fields not paying much attention to the games, and hanging out at the hotel.  I was well-prepared, as I brought three different books with me.  I started out by finishing the last 100 or so pages of Shada on the ride west.  I recently printed and "laminated" some Doctor Who bookmarks, so I fittingly marked my spot with one of these.

I always travel in style.

Eventually it got dark and I had to read by flashlight for the last 300 miles of our trip to Rockford.  I ended up killing the battery completely on the way back and had to finish my last chapter using the flashlight app on my phone.  I started The Polish Officer by Alan Furst as soon as I finished Shada, and read that for the rest of the drive out and most of Saturday at the soccer games.  It's not as good as The Spies of Warsaw, but I'm enjoying it.  I've read the first 240 pages of it so far.  Saturday night, I started in on Die Trying by Lee Child because I needed a break from WWII era Europe.  I'm now over 200 pages into that one too.  Like I said: it was a good weekend.

Saturday night, my sister's team had a dinner at a local Italian restaurant called Nunzio's.  When we pulled up, we were slightly concerned to discover what looked like tombstones out in front of it.  I didn't take it as a particularly good sign.  It turned out that the marble slabs were actually a war memorial for men from Loves Park who had died in wars.  That was decidedly less worrisome.  They also had an eternal flame in a little fenced off area, but the flame had gone out.  It was kind of awkward.

I briefly considered trying to light it with the matchbook I inexplicably found in the pocket of the sweatshirt I hadn't worn since the winter.

 Anyway, the food turned out to be delightful and even though it took us about ten years to get served, I think it was a pretty good stop.

The only downside to Saturday was that I had to DVR the new episode of Doctor Who.  "Dinosaurs on a Spaceship" aired in the United States over 27 hours ago and I still haven't seen it.  This is a truly terrible fact.

On our way out of town today, we stopped at this awesome little restaurant called The Machine Shed.  It was basically a family-run Cracker Barrel.  I loved it.  We got pumpkin bread and cottage cheese with our meals.  And their mashed potatoes were heavenly.  I'd definitely go back if I ever find myself in Rockford again.  After we ate, we browsed through their little gift shop briefly and I found this dinosaur footprint-shaped baking pan that makes little cupcakes shaped like dinosaurs.  I wanted to buy it more than anything I've seen in months.  Unfortunately, it was $32 (!), and my common sense kicked in and I just took this picture.

Dinosaur-shaped cupcakes.  Think of the possibilities!

 After leaving Rockford, we headed toward Chicago.  My little sister was very insistent on finding the Bean (a large, reflective piece of public art that's shaped more or less like a bean) and taking pictures of it.  She informed us that it was located at Navy Pier.  Even though we live only five hours away from Chicago, none of us had been to the city in ten years.  Nobody thought to question her about its location.  We navigated to Navy Pier and my dad waited with the car while my mom, sister, and I headed onto the pier.  There were many highly entertaining things there, but there was no giant, shiny artwork.  I googled the Bean.  It was not located at Navy Pier.

At least the view was nice.

 We then found our way to Millennium Park, where the Bean is actually located.  We made sure to give my sister a lecture about checking directions before she goes places and researching destinations.  When we got to the park, she and I got out and wandered in until we found it.

Expelliarmus!  The camera flash makes it look like I'm casting Harry Potter spells.

Then, because taking normal pictures just doesn't cut it for me, I decided that it would be a good idea to lay down on the sidewalk in Chicago.

This is a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

After our hour in Chicago, we hit the road again to head home.  On the way there, we stopped for a quick bite at Steak'n'Shake.  I got this giant s'mores milkshake of awesomeness.  It was delectable.  Everyone should have at least one.  Or three.  You decide.

This milkshake will change your life.  And also probably your waistline.

Bill Nye Extravaganza...

Any kid who grew up during the '90s probably has fond memories of Bill Nye the Science Guy.  Remember how awesome it felt when you walked into science class and your teacher informed you that you were going to be watching a Billy Nye video?  Of course you do.  It was always cause for a celebration.  Even this year as a substitute teacher, I got excited when I filled in for a science teacher and his lesson plan was to show one of these.

Last night, I came across a tumblr post with links to 100 different Bill Nye episodes.  How great is that?!  If you've got some time on your hands, you can relive all of the great moments and every cheesy '90s science song.  Have you been jonesing for a rap about centripetal force?  Check out the Spinning Objects episode.  Want a look at some slightly old school computers?  There's an episode for that too.  You could spend days being entertained.

Read a Book Day...

It's no secret that I'm a fan of books.  In fact, I think I'm only a couple of years of acquisitions away from being featured on an episode of Hoarders due to my book collection.  I can't help myself; books are just awesome.  It's like holding a little portal to another world right in your hand.  And it's portable!  What could be better?  I very rarely leave home without a book.

At any given time, I usually have at least two books going.  This is a semi-recently developed habit that I blame largely on my short attention span.  Today is no exception.  I'm currently about halfway through Doctor Who: Shada by Gareth Roberts and I just started The Polish Officer by Alan Furst.

I don't think my interest in the Doctor Who book requires explanation, but my interest in The Polish Officer is also tangentially Who-related.  I was first introduced to Furst's work because of David Tennant's upcoming role in the mini-series based on The Spies of Warsaw.  It just so happened that that book had been on my list of books to read for a while now, so I ran straight to the library (actually I think I walked) and picked up a copy.  I blew through it in a couple of days and loved every word of it.  Spy novels are one of my great pleasures in life, and the historical settings of Furst's work appeals to my obsession with the WWII time period.  Grabbing another one of his books was a no-brainer.  I'm also partway through the prologue to the third book in the Game of Thrones series, Storm of Swords, but I've got a couple of other books I want to read before I really get into that one.  I've got some time yet before season three of the show starts up, so I'm not in a rush.  Those books tend to take me quite some time to get through.

I celebrated Read a Book Day by--you guessed it!--reading a book.  In true nerd fashion, I went out for a solo lunch at McDonald's and packed Shada along with me.  I took my sweet time munching on chicken nuggets while I was swept up in the Doctor's adventure.  Reading is the best.  There are honestly very few people in the world I would choose instead of a book as a lunchtime companion.  Perhaps that's why I'll be forever alone.  At least I have my books, eh?  On my way home from lunch, I swung by the library.  I didn't check anything out since I've already got a bunch of stuff checked out, but I was riding by it and I can never pass up a chance to go wander through shelves of books.  Plus, there's this killer free books section where you can pick up used books and magazines for nothing.  It's one of my favorite things ever.

I'm going on a mini-roadtrip this weekend, so I expect to get plenty of reading time.  Between six hours in the car each way and a day of sitting at a soccer field not watching the game, I plan on turning a lot of pages.  Accordingly, I'm packing no less than three books.  One can never be too stocked with reading material.  I can't think of a fate worse than being hours away from home with nothing to read.

Now, if you'll please excuse me, I've got about 45 minutes left in the day to get some more reading in.

Less of a Wallflower...

I recently picked up a copy of The Perks of Being a Wallflower.  It had been on my list of "Oh, I should really read that sometime" books for a while, and with the movie coming out soon, I figured that now as as good a time as any to read it.  I'm a firm believer in reading the book before watching the movie or tv adaptation, so this was the only viable course of action.

I had based my expectations almost entirely on the title (I know, cliches about books and covers and whatnot), and I figured that I'd relate really well to the story.  I've always been shy and awkward (at least until I discovered the internet) and a book about being a wallflower seemed like it would be right up my alley.  I mean who would understand the feeling of standing off in the shadows hoping/fearing that someone would notice you better than someone who had been doing that all of her life?

I ended up being pretty disappointed by the book, probably largely due to the fact that it was very different from what I imagined.  I understood Charlie's feeling of being different and never quite fitting in.  I definitely got the aspect of seeing and observing things that pass by other people; I'm a "noticer" too.  I even understood the feeling of being infinite.  Everything else about the book was so different from my high school experience, though, that I just never felt the connection that I was expecting to.

In all honesty, a lot of it was the drugs and alcohol.  My friends and I never took part in any of that, and it was so omnipresent in the book that I just didn't get it.  The closest we ever came was taking goofy pictures of each other pretending to chug bottles of wine. Kiddie wine.  We were the straightest arrows you'll ever find walking the halls of a high school.  We had fun.  We loved it.  We also remember all of it because we were sober.

I'm not saying that the story wasn't powerful. Charlie's journey was moving.  The writing format was unique.  I'm glad I read the book.  I just thought I'd feel more connected with Charlie.  I guess that's the danger of going into things with expectations.  I usually force myself to avoid thinking things are going to be great before experiencing them precisely for that reason.  Sometimes they turn out differently than you thought they would and you end up disappointed for no reason.

I will say that I absolutely loved the music Charlie talked about in the books.  I've already added a bunch of those songs to my iPod.  I'm more of a classic rock girl, but I fell in love with The Smiths' song "Asleep" the first time I played it.  It just goes to show that you can always get something great out of anything if you just take a moment to look for it.

TARDIS Cake...

...It's more fattening on the inside.

For my recent birthday, I requested that my cake be decorated like a TARDIS.  This was awkward because I then had to explain what a TARDIS is and print a picture of it so my mom knew what it was supposed to look like.  Even more fun ensued on my birthday when I tried to explain it to my dad.  He chooses to not understand such things on principle.

Anyway, after making my TARDIS request, I started thinking about the cake that was to come.  I decided that in order to live up to TARDIS standards, there would have to be a bit more to the cake than just a box mix with some dyed frosting.  It would somehow have to be bigger on the inside.  Since our kitchen is not equipped with any Gallifreyan technology, I would have to come up with a creative way to make this happen.

One of my great dessert obsessions is cookie dough.  I'm assuming that this applies to a lot of people.  Thanks to Pinterest, I came across a recipe for egg-less cookie dough a while back.  This seemed like the perfect opportunity to put it to good use.  My sister and I immediately set out to create the perfect bigger/more fattening on the inside cake.  (Yes, I helped make my own birthday cake.  I really like baking things.  I did at least claim birthday privileges and make her clean everything up.)

Do you have any idea how hard it was to not just eat these straight up?

We made the cookie dough and then rolled it into small balls and put them in the freezer on a cookie sheet for an hour.  Then we made a chocolate cake mix and poured it into the baking pan.  Right before putting it in the oven, we dropped the cookie dough balls on top of the batter.  We had enough cookie dough to almost completely cover the top of the cake.  We baked the cake according to the directions on the box, but had to add a few extra minutes (probably because of the fact that the cookie dough was frozen).  The cookie dough bits sank to the bottom of the pan and remained in their delicious, uncooked glory.  We flipped the cake upside down out of the baking pan, which perfectly positioned the cookie dough at the top right underneath the frosting, thus bringing together my two favorite parts of the cake together in harmony.

The hardest part of the cake process was trying to find food coloring that would dye the cream cheese frosting a proper TARDIS blue.  The regular liquid food coloring just doesn't do the trick.  It never did get quite right, but there's only so much you can do.  Color aside, the cake was delightful.

Look at that delectable layer of cookie dough.  My mouth is watering just thinking about it.

Here's the edible cookie dough recipe:

1 cup butter, softened
3/4 cup sugar
3/4 cup brown sugar
4 tbsp milk
1 tbsp vanilla
2 1/2 cups flour
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 cup mini chocolate chips

1.  Blend the butter and sugars together.  Then add the milk and vanilla.
2.  Mix in the flour and salt until smooth.  Add extra milk if the consistency of the dough is too dry.
3.  Stir in the chocolate chips.
4.  Shape the dough into small balls and place on a wax-lined cookie sheet.
5.  Freeze for at least one hour (or just eat them if you're not planning on using them in a cake).

Series Seven Excitement...

I'll be honest: I'm a late-comer to the Doctor Who universe.  I heard of it for the first time last fall when a friend of mine repeatedly tweeted about how hot some guy named Matt Smith was and I had absolutely no idea who she was talking about.  I'm far from up-to-date on pop culture, so this wasn't at all surprising. She informed me that Smith was a British actor from a tv show I'd also never heard of, and I left it at that.

However, I kept seeing references to this show online and I finally decided that if I was going to be a fully literate nerd, I would have to watch at least a few episodes so I could understand what people were talking about.  I didn't expect to like it (a show about an alien who time travels inside of a phone box?) since outside of my Star Wars obsession, I'd never really been much of a sci-fi fan.  I watched the first episode of the new series this January and plowed through all six series in about six weeks, despite making a major move in the meantime.  I was officially hooked.  I made myself a Who quotes screensaver.  I picked up a brown pin-striped blazer at a thrift store (Tennant is "my Doctor"). I set my text alert to the TARDIS engine noise.

I tried to talk to other people about it, but once I started explaining what it was about, their eyes kind of glazed over and they looked at me like I was crazy.  I have a tendency to inspire that reaction in people anyway, but I suspect that the subject matter played a role too.  Nobody really got it.  And since nobody understood the show, nobody understood the agonizing wait for the new series to premiere.  There's nothing quite like watching a show from start to finish in a matter of weeks and then facing the reality that there is no more to watch.  You've seen everything there is to see.  It's especially bad when that tv show has become an instant obsession.

To say that I was eagerly anticipating the premiere of series seven would be an understatement.  This was my first chance to experience the show in "real time," to wait week by week for a new installment.  In honor of the new episode yesterday, I started reading Doctor Who: Shada by Gareth Roberts and finally got around to Scotch Garding my new white Converse sneakers so that I could wear them in public.  Moffat and crew more than delivered.  The episode was fantastic from start to finish.  I'd even go so far as to say that it was my favorite Matt Smith one.  I'm beyond excited for next week's dinosaurs episode.  I can't wait to see what happens when the Ponds leave.  I finally feel what it's like to be at the mercy of Steven Moffat.  It's great.  And agonizing.  And I just want next Saturday to be here already.

Frightening Lightsaber Toothbrushes...

I have a long and storied history of scaring people in public places.  Sometimes it's intentional; sometimes it's not.  The first known incident of this dates back to a student trip I took to Australia in middle school during which my peers and I devoted ourselves to "weirding out" the Aussie guide who traveled with us throughout our two-week stay.  I won't go into details, but I do believe we were successful.  This type of behavior has only increased with age and is a great way to avoid being a mature adult.  It's possible that this is due to a gene I inherited from my father.

The genetic theory gained further credence this week when I took a trip to Target with my little sister.  We were walking innocently down the toothpaste aisle when, in unison, our eyes locked onto a toothbrush in the kids' section.  It was a flashing light-up lightsaber toothbrush.  We stopped momentarily, possibly due to a natural instinct to not move while our eyes were bulging out of our skulls, and then both yelled, "Oh my GOD!" in unison.  Upon further investigation, we discovered that the toothbrush came in a variety of colors.  It was like Christmas, but in August.  We had to buy them; there was absolutely no other reasonable course of action.

It was only after we decided who would get each color (I got blue, she got green) that we noticed a woman staring at us from a few feet away.  She had a completely baffled expression on her face, and you could almost hear her mind trying to process the fact that there were two girls standing there having a mini freak-out about some toothbrushes that were clearly designed and packaged for little boys.  I thought about explaining to her that they light up when you press the button, but I didn't think she'd understand.  We just left her standing there trying to figure out what had just happened.

You'll be happy to know that the toothbrushes are indeed fantastic.  I don't know that my dentist would be thrilled about me using a child's toothbrush, but I think he'd understand if he could see it in action.