September 1, 2013

No One Likes Fruit (fly) Cake

Isn't this cute?!

No.



Ingredients:

  • 1 seemingly normal fridge, until...
  • All the fruit flies
  • 1 bathroom, too
  • 2 nights of deep cleaning-- scrubbing and disinfecting, that is
  • 4 calls to management
  • 1 Google search a la Girls: "how do you get rid of fruit flies in a New York City apartment"
  • 5 homemade fruit fly traps
  • 1 sleepless night, fearing for my life (skin)
  • ¡%@#! (insert uncomfortable number in fake expletive) number of fruit flies
  • 1 Bug-ageddon

Instructions:
You wouldn't be living in NYC in the summer and not experience fruit flies. Right? That's what I tell myself, reassuring my soul that Mother Nature isn't targeting our apartment specifically for the next potential bug takeover of humans. However, I do think there is  something to be said of the cleanliness of my neighborhood and produce sold here versus, say, I don't know, the area of Park Ave. where my beautiful babysitting job is located. Perhaps the small joy (large joy, come on, throw me a bone) I felt when paying $1 for a container of blueberries or strawberries on the side of the street from the nice produce vendors was NOT meant to make my day. Any day. Ever. Because it really just bit me in the behind. Probably quite literally; I still haven't figured out if fruit flies can bite yet...

Now that that one simple albeit monumentous (which my computer thinks is not a word! ha!) (Dang it, I think it's right. Monumental? Yeah. That's right) reward for living in the neighborhood no one will come to visit because it's "too far" and "what's Inwood?", etc. etc. has been taken away from me. I will no longer buy produce at the cheap, cheap price that, well, I guess it deserves. If it brings in fruit flies. :( I weep for it.

SO! What do you do when you have fruit flies in your apartment? Good question! We still have a few/many/not sure lingerers hangin' around after Bug-ageddon 2013, but I won't be shy about what kind of a warrior I was in the battles. I was manly. Beastly. Scary. Here's what I've done so far, and I'll update you next week as to how it's panned out-- because by then the life cycles of these crazies will have ended muahahaha! Unless they are still procreating. In which I've failed:

   - Deep, deep surface clean every deep surface of your kitchen, bathroom, wherever they're congregating. Especially: the insides of trash and recycling cans, your stove top, every square inch of your fridge and freezer
   - Take that trash out NOW! Continue to take the trash out daily. All of it. Every day. And make sure there's nothing hanging over the edge of the can-- everything needs to be in that bag!
   - If you're composting, stop. Just. Stop.
   - TRAPS! Take wittle bowls, like low tiny ones, or jars and fill them with apple cider vinegar. Now, most articles will tell you that's all you need, BUT I've found that ineffective: I also add red wine.     
 *I do this because my delicious wine comes from Paper Moon Winery in Vermillion, OH, which sells a tantalizingly sweet VERY SWEET like juice red wine, which my roommate Rachel was once drinking, or shall I say not drinking but protecting from all of the fruit flies swarming near her cup. Deliciously tantalizing to all God's creatures. Paper Moon. **     
(I'll take my $$ residuals in the mail any day now, Paper Moon.)
Then, mix in a drop or two of dish soap-- this seals the surface and traps them once they've swam in for a drink of the hard stuff. Set out 5 of these, in your kitchen and bathroom, and you'll see some flies swimmin'!  + After the first round of traps, I then learned to put saran wrap with tiny holes punched on the surface tightly around the jars or bowls, to really make sure these nasties weren't escaping.
   - Throw away any and all questionable or almost over-ripened produce, bottles with anything sticky on the outside, or potatoes/garlic/any natural organic matter (yes, I'm using science terms here, orgaaaanic maaaaatter). It's called another trip to the grocery store you were already going to make anyways, boo hoo.
   - Avoid leaving wet wash cloths or towels out in warm places or bunched up. I threw away our sponge and wet hand towels in the kitchen. Well, that was 60 cents I'll never get back from Ikea!

These are just some tips of actions, but I suggest, like any good actor, that you look up the motivations and history behind your actions in order to live fully on stage-- I mean, in your Bug-ageddon. I found this Bug Squad article very insightful.


* If you are willing to spare some extra effort to finish off your recipe, go ahead & add the frosting on the cake. You only need 2 ingredients:

  • A phone
  • Your parents' utter horror & disappointment
Thank goodness they love you. Considering.

August 25, 2013

What's My Age Again? by Blink 1-ATE-2

Listening to my daily fix of emotional Bon Iver melodies, I am feeling a little more 22. When I listen to Taylor Swift, though, I ironically feel smaller and younger. For those who want a quick, tasty little treat of what this feels like, read below:
Thank you for this, Mom.

Ingredients:
  • 1 pink Minnie Mouse Tervis cup. The ones w/ the sippy lids.
  • 1 response from (literally) all of your friends about your upcoming audition for a women & teen health center photo shoot: "are you the baby or the mom?"
  • 1 attempt at a voiceover side for a 20's-something girl at a bar that you fail
  • 1 attempt at a voiceover side for the character of a "Little Boy" that you nail
  • 7+ shows that you watched that you were proud to report to your VO teacher:
      Rugrats in Pairs
     
       - 
      Phineas & Ferb
       - 

      Bubble Guppies (so freaking good. but also a little scandalous, no?)   - 

      Team Umizoomi
       - 

      Max & Ruby
    (OK, honestly, all they do-- every time-- is make cakes and wait for grandma to come. Am I right?!)   - 

      Mike the Knight

       - 
      Many clips from Sprout TV online

    (whether any of these were via babysitting or fun is irrelevant)
  • 1 "artist-for-a-day"-type employee who asks you if you and the girl you babysit for are sisters
  • 10 min. late to your PT appointment because you were hastily printing cover letters & resumes to send in the mail TODAY that you didn't get up early enough to print, only to realize, as soon as you get on the train, that do you NOT have them... Elementary, Anna. Elementary. 

Instructions:
Maybe spending 5 hours a day with a 5-year-old has had its effects on you. Or maybe you're reverting to childish tendencies because you are alone, generally according to the outside eye unproductive, and now, some may call, a "real adult". Or maybe you're Benjamin Button-ing this. Regardless, carrying around a Pink Minnie Mouse cup in East Harlem is just not acceptable. Seriously. I'm all for individualism, but let's reevaluate here: First of all, that's just dumb. Second of all, there are some things that need to change now that you are graduated and an official NYC resident. You need to set up a bank account, change your USPS address, find a doctor, transfer your prescriptions, and walk a little straighter. Do these things. It will make you(r parents) feel much better.

ALTHOUGH, you do not have a full-time job, salary, or consistent schedule; your income is based solely on babysitting; you spent all day Friday with an awesome 11-year-old who knows more about getting around Park Ave. then you ever will and took you to lunch, that craft place, and to get ice cream; and watching cartoons is part of your homework for class. So. Yes. You are allowed to enjoy certain... childish privileges-- like... not working every day, and... thinking that writing a blog is a viable and productive use of your time... right?


Don't disagree with me.

Anyways, put these ingredients together in a 4" watermelon fondant cake (like my 11-year-old and I made) 




and reap the benefits of being AGE AMBIGUOUS! And enjoy your audition in a few weeks for the role of a child. 

August 20, 2013

Acceptance a la mode

Ingredients:

  • 1 hour stuck in traffic on the Deegan "Express"way, believing that it'd be "just OK" to drive in rush hour traffic to get to the Target that's actually only 2 train stops away. *You neeeeeeed to take the car.
  • 1 conversation with the Home Depot manager who informs you that your current window locks are illegal
  • 30 min searching for a "unique" restaurant to please your dad in the over-stimulating, crowded, & stressful wonderland known as Times Square, as you hold out one last time for your FindMeGF(gluten free) app to actually send you to the right location (aka breakdown #1) (ps Maps sucks)
  • Apprx. 45 utterances of the word "hate", which is just unattractive 
  • $20.50 for a cab ride home from your babysitting job because you are stuck (you say) in East Harlem, know of no trains in the area that can get you anywhere useful-- hearing only taxis, that strange technological city hum, and an extremely loud albeit talented church reggae band--  and, after all of the previous ingredients and ones in babysitting land not aforementioned, need to get home (aka breakdown #2)
  • 2 days spent not going anywhere = 1 Saturday purposefully never leaving your apartment + 1 Sunday locking yourself in your friend's place to use their editing software. 
    The latter part of this ingredient is necessary to yield you this recipe's secret set of ingredients:
  • 35 minutes waiting for the A train from 11:45 to 12:20am, throughout which you spy:
                      1 rat
                      2 homeless people
                      1 man who keeps pacing in front of you
                      2 versions of every other letter of train pass by
                      2 MTA works in the tracks surveying the track area with flashlights as if searching for a dead body
                      5-8 cargo loads of trash bags on the late night trash subway
                      1 full, full, full A train!

But all of this should bring you the following when you enter the full, full train:

  • 3 important songs in succession:
    Totally F$#%ed from Spring Awakening, a Mumford and Sons song with the lyrics "you've got a chip on your shoulder", and Breathe from In the Heights. **Listen to *Totally F$#%ed twice in a row because it means so much to you right now and mentally profess that "this is the song of our generation! yah!"**
  • 1 "Poetry in Motion" MTA poster that draws your eye: about how "roasted chicken and red wine" every now and then is worth having to live on coffee and bread-- written by a one and only NORTHWESTERN PROFESSOR from the English department that you use to work in!! Northwestern! There! Professor! Right on the train, right next to your face! It must be **fate!



  • Laughter at all of it. 


Instructions:
It may take your dad seeing you upset, your friends assuming you'll move back to Chicago, or too many nights in a row noticing the A train really is a despicable option past 9:30pm. However, at some point, putting all of the above ingredients with a little a la mode (that's ice cream, for all of you who don't know me at all) (or have never read a menu) is going to smack you across the face with a big 'ol "whammy!, sweetie, you're in New York! You're in New York City and you're not leavin' for at least a year, so you might as well say 'whammy' instead-a 'hate' and turn that frown upside down, or else it's gonna be a long haul for all-a us!"

In the wise words of some angsty teens, namely Jon Groff and Lea Michele (does anyone actually know any of the other names of the cast off the top of their head?), "there's a moment you know  you're f#@*%d... but the thing that makes you really jump is that the weirdest s*#t is still to come." Hey. At least there are some truly horrible things that haven't happened to you yet. Guess what? It can STILL get worse! This song reminds us that: You know, sometimes you just gotta still believe that you're young and have a man to stick it to. Because sticking it to the man makes life easier. So, live in the city, smell the trash, and then completely try to erase the fact that you just smelled the trash  with your PocketBac lavender scented hand sanitizer-- without being ashamed of it. You're not gonna ride in a car. You're not gonna get home soon. Any time, any day. And you're going to smell trash everywhere. Heck, maybe you'll even befriend an underground rat. But you know what? At least you have someone to do it for: Jon and Lea. 



**In further research, I have discovered that Tracy K. Smith is NOT in fact a professor at Northwestern. This is funny, to say the least. This also seems quite inevitable. Let us all take this moment to appreciate how great this mistake is.