Category Archives: fail

Disaster Strikes

The view from my kitchen at 8:00 AM.

Apparently I’m just More Inspired to bake at that hour than any other.  So I set to work preparing the filling for a batch of Oreo Truffles that will be coming with me to an Ugly Christmas Sweater Party tonight and the dough for the nine dozen cookies I’m meant to be bringing to my department’s cookie exchange on Tuesday.

For the record, if you offer to organize a cookie exchange and assume that you will not have 100% participation, then The Universe will make sure that you have the highest level of participation that anyone has ever seen in a cookie exchange ever.

Because when 17 people are ready to swap-it-out, suddenly it seems more practical to exchange cookies by the half-dozen rather than the whole dozen.

Marcus doesn’t eat desserts (though apparently he is A Major Fan of cookie dough).  I am but one person.  17 half-dozens of cookies is pushing it ’round these parts.

My morning baking session?  Went off without a hitch.  I rolled truffles and dipped pretzels, chilled cookie dough and all was right with the world.

When we returned home from lunch, I got cracking on my exchange cookies.  Rolling balls, unwrapping mass amounts of miniature Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, preparing mini-muffin tins.

After pressing my dough into service and waiting the prescribed amount of time, I pulled my tins from the oven, and took them out to the garage to cool them down a bit.

Working with  Mother Nature.  It’s the Minnesotan way to get things done, you see?

I brought them in to “pry them from the pan with a knife” and discovered that something in the baking process had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

In an irreparable structural failure-sort of way.

As in, of the 84 cookies I baked (I still had a few dozen ready-to-go for tomorrow), THESE are my survivors.

Minus one.

In the spirit of Groundhog Day, I’ll be waking up to do it all over again (literally) tomorrow.

What is the biggest baking catastrophe you’ve ever experienced?

p.s. Be a Good Cookie Week is wrapping-up!  Check 0ut Mads’ Gingersnaps, Allison’s Christmas wish and An Island Mom’s Brownie Cookies!


At least a solid six

Kittens, I had so much I wanted to share with you tonight.  It was mapped out.  Drafted.  Planned.

But, to be blunt, I am exhausted.

For the past few days I’ve woken up at 4:30 AM to sneak a run in because we’ve had evening plans and the weather has been so horrendous that I would likely be running inside anyway.

I’ve never been a girl who needs her full eight hours of beauty sleep to survive, but I do need a solid six.

While rolling out of bed hasn’t been hard, trying to stay standing past 8 PM definitely has been.

So it should come as no surprise that right now a migraine is attempting to strike and I want nothing more than to collapse into bed.

A Small Mercy = I was able to address my mitts and paws prior to this evening’s cocktail party.  Since we were going to spend time on a patio in Minneapolis, it only seemed like The Civilized Thing to do.  And I wish I were kidding when I say it had been…weeks.  And y’all know that when I can’t remember the last time I got my nails did, I’m probably falling apart at the seams.

Thank God Grey Suede is such a forgiving color.  I don’t even know what I would do with myself if my mitts were chippy and…Tropical.  Or something like that.

So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to go don The Migraine Turban.

How do you cope when you’re over-scheduled?

Do you get migraines with any regularity?

*Knock on Wood* Mine aren’t particularly long, but I do get one at least once every three months and GOD is it miserable.

Hindsight is 20/20

So today, Bri decided to delve into the ever-deepening cesspool on Facebook that’s better known as “Photos and Videos of You.”

Back in the day, everyone concerned themselves with the prospect of being Totally Exposed if anyone found the photos they had been tagged in where they were drinking…GASP…and at parties.

Obviously Drinking and Partying fall directly into the category of Shocking Behavior That College Students Regularly Participate In.

Constant Vigilance was necessary.  Because you know, stalk-y professors and your Sorority President might find out.

LIKE THEY DIDN’T ALREADY KNOW when they saw you rolling around campus with that unwashed ponytail and a sweatshirt that was three sizes too big?

I didn’t know you were so into blaze orange crewnecks these days.

I’m totally comfortable at this point in my life saying that I’m zero percent concerned when I think about people digging through tagged pictures of me and discovering 18 year-old Kat with a can of The Beast in her hand.

What I am concerned about?  The fact that people can still find snaps of me that are just outright horrifying.  We’re talking the types of pictures where retrospectively, I should have snatched the camera from the offender’s hands immediately after the shutter clicked.

For example, this snap below in which my first reaction was WHY ARE YOU CHANNELING MICHAEL JACKSON?!

Yes, we share a penchant for Lorazepram (how else do you think I manage to board an airplane so calmly?) and sequins.  But as far as I’m concerned, that’s really where our similarities end.

As they say, hindsight is 20/20.

Did you try to hide anything that (retrospectively!) was deadly-apparent in college?

What’s the most unflattering picture you’ve discovered of yourself on Facebook?

Like the Stone Age


This would be my biggest effort at coherent cookie-design.

So, today I got to bake Christmas cookies en masse with Tiffany, Tawny, Michelle and a couple of other lovely ladies.

I ate my weight in frosting.  It was fabulous.

I had a really great post typed up for today too.  I re-hashed last night’s Ugly Sweater party, the inappropriate amounts of Nouveau Beaujolais that I consumed (I am now the luckiest person on the planet), and how epic the Sugar Cookie Dough Balls were.

But thanks to Comcast, not only has my humble abode been plunged into technological darkness, but the entire Midwest has been transformed into an Internet dark age.

How does that even happen in 2010?

So instead, here I am pecking on my DROID X at 10:30 PM from the comfort of my blanket burrito.  I’m positive that the only thing that can come from this arrangement is some extremely bizarre form of Carpal Tunnel.

How thrilling.

In the midst of this pestilence, my only solace is in the fact that today I had Really Great Hair.

Internet/Technology horror stories.  Go.

Really, the irony in all of this is that if I still had my BlackBerry, I’d be able to dock it to my netbook and enjoy Totally Normal (albeit, slow) Internet.

Hammer and Chisel are really the only reliable way to go these days. Or those Dixie cups you connect with a string.

A total mess.



Maybe I passed out on the terminal floor this afternoon at La Guardia and ended up drooling all over my hot pink travel pillow.

But it was totally worth it.


Sometimes I out-blonde myself. 

For those of you who are new to the Kat-scene, I was blonde until the age of 20.

But in the here and now, this evening, I got trapped on my patio. 

How does one do such a thing? you wonder.

Well, despite the fact that I live on the third (and top) floor of my building, I have a fire poker in my patio door frame.  For the obvious and intuitive reason that if an intruder with Spiderman-like abilities were to try and bust into my apartment in the middle of the night, I would be woken up.  You know, before they made it in.  Safety first.  Or something.

Exhibits A & B.

The way the poker was balanced in the door frame, when I pulled the porch door closed behind me (I had the air conditioner on), it slid back into the position pictured above.  I’ve been losing the pounds, but squeezing through a six-inch crack is not what I envision when I think of my goal weight.

Ironically, I just told y’all about my desert island item, the tweezers.  Today?  I was obviously trapped without those.  Rather, my provisions were a glass of water, brie + crackers, my BlackBerry and a copy of French Women Don’t Get Fat.

I could have done worse.

Eyebrow Emergency

I have a little tale for you all tonight since I’m currently celebrating the loss of another two pounds by descending into a post-Broeder’s food coma. Eating the best tira misu in the city is the reason I keep on running…you know?

ANYWAY, I woke up this morning and peeked in the mirror, as I am given to doing every daybreak.

And I proceeded to have the horrifying realization that my left eyebrow looked TOTALLY DIFFERENT than my right. This was shocking and problematic for obvious reasons.

Naturally I went for the pink tweezers that I permanently borrowed from Maari during our freshman year of college.

Did I mention that I love those things? Because I kind of do. And they’re pink.

If I had to be stranded on a desert island (or cast for Survivor), it’s entirely plausible that I would choose those tweezers for my one item.

But anyway, I picked them up at 6 AM, attempted to wrangle my eyebrows into some sort of workable shape (like seriously, judging from today’s experience, I’ve let myself go…), and then had to remember the key tenet of tweezing.


Otherwise, you end up drawing those suckers on.  Which is obviously, realistic. And flattering.


So I gently replaced them in my medicine cabinet. A safe place, where my face won’t be and can’t be mangled.

We’ll check out the aftermath in the morning and see what shape my left eyebrow really is.

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