Living on the edge

In an effort to spice up our weekly dinner menu, Ben and I decided to give a new recipe a whirl: Buffalo Style Chicken Pizza - with homemade dough. You all have seen how well I bake, so this decision was obviously of deep concern for me.

First, I prepared for battle.

The local wine here is quite nice. I recommend trying it if you get a chance.

Then I cooked and seasoned the chicken. For some reason, I decided that slicing instead of cubing made it more buffalo wing-y. No idea why.

A quick test (to make sure it wasn't poison, of course) showed the chicken to be quite nom-able.

Australians don't put much stock in spicy foods (many cast fearful eyes at even the mildest of jalapenos, and I swear I know one person who actually sweated when eating pepper gravy), so this was the best we could find in our local grocery store.

Note my disdain for common measuring spoons. "Eh, a regular spoon will do, just whack the sauce in there." Probably explains why so many of my dishes are...uniquely flavored.

With the dough finished, it was time to assemble the pizza. This, by the way, is what happens when you don't have a circular pizza tray:

I swear this pan doesn't give us diseases.

At this stage, Korben the Wonderdog was invaluable. Some call this begging - I call it moral support.

He sits very neatly when begging. You should see what a lazy sitter he is when there's no food around. Looks like a sack of potatoes with ears.

All done and ready to shove in the oven.

We added olives to the recipe because, frankly, it's just not pizza without them. Never trust a person who dislikes olives. They inevitably have small hands and smell like cabbage.

Ben also requested sun dried tomatoes on his half. I think they'll clash with the hot sauce, but he's a rebel like that.

Stroke of culinary genius or an awaiting tragedy?

At this stage, I'm going to mention that I strongly doubt the crust will rise properly, and fear that the juice from the chicken is going to make the whole thing a soggy mess. We shall see.

Obviously, the crapness of my camera is why I will never have a cooking blog. Well that and my questionable talents in the kitchen.

It's done!

Is there any greater site than melted cheese, even when the photography is questionable? I can feel my thighs growing already.

After a bit of cooling, the final result:

Relevant cheezburger for the devotees out there.

Well, as I suspected, the dough didn't really rise. I'm really not surprised - I have never used yeast successfully. Ever. I am yeast-challenged. It also turned out a wee bit doughy (probably should have been pre-cooked for a few minutes) but otherwise it's pretty good, and the chicken is particularly delish.

So, thus ends the Great Dinner Experiment.

Not bad, really.

P.S. In the interest of full disclosure, I have to say I'm not a pizza crust leaving type of person. As soon as the photo was done, I snatched that last bite up. Carbs rule.

Perks of the job

One of the advantages to working in a library is that you get first dibs on any new books that come in. Since it's an academic setting, that means that we have to sift through a lot of tomes on exciting topics like basic business management, geriatric nursing, and that thriller of the year, rural analysis and management. Wheeee.

But every once in a while, some goodies slip through the cracks. A few days ago, one of the catalogers came up to me and pressed a small novel into my hands. "Lisa," she said, "you HAVE to read this." The book was What Was Lost, by Catherine O'Flynn, and had been short- and longlisted for a number of prestigious awards.

I'll be honest. Awards books are often so overhyped that by the time I get around to reading them, I end up disappointed and annoyed. Not necessarily because they're bad books, but because my expectations were raised to the point where pretty much nothing could fulfill them. So I went into this fully prepared to feel like yawning and deciding to invest my time in devouring a bag of Smith's salt and vinegar potato chips instead (those things are crack - do yourself a favor and never, ever eat them). So I'm pleased to say that the chips never even crossed my mind.

This is a fascinating, compelling little book, alternately funny and heartbreaking (sometimes on the same page, or even in the same paragraph). In the beginning, we are introduced to a curious 10-year-old loner named Kate Meany, who, with her "Top Secret" detective notebook and stuffed monkey Mickey, spends her time conducting surveillance at the monolithic Green Oaks mall. Fast forward twenty years, and we discover that one day Kate simply disappeared - the primary suspect is her unlikely friend Adrian, a man meandering aimlessly through life. The remainder of the novel is penned through the eyes of Adrian's sister Lisa, stuck in a dead end job and dead end relationship, and Kurt, an unfulfilled security guard at Green Oaks.

This is really an extraordinary debut novel - a moving and occasionally devastating exploration of loss, loneliness, hope, friendship, and how the choices we make have long lasting consequences - sometimes even more than we know. Today I'm taking it back to the library. I need to give it to someone else and tell them they have to read it. Because you do.

Way to go, little bro!

I have to interrupt my regularly scheduled posting (or not so regular, but whatever) with a big ole w00t! for my little brother: he took part in the Portland Century on Sunday, riding 100 miles on his bicycle! Let me repeat: one.hundred.miles!

I doubt I could even bike a mile without keeling over dead of a heart attack, and I'm so unbelievably proud and happy for him! See?

Excuse the blurriness (camera = not so good in low lighting) and daggy shirt (fashion sense = challenged).

A better look at the crazy eyes:

God, my smile is crooked.

Way to go Matty, I'm so proud of you!

This country is trying to kill me

"It's hot. It's dry...very dry. Practically everything that's not poisonous is venomous. But it's the best bloody place in the world, all right?"*

I was browsing through some old photos when I came across this:

That, my friends, is an enormous spider trapped between the screen and the glass of the window. I have no idea how it got there, but I spent that entire day staring at it, petrified that if I looked away it would disappear to somewhere inside the house and I'd have to spend the rest of the afternoon sitting on top of the fridge with a can of Raid in one hand and a very large shoe in the other.

Here's a closer look, with a pen that I taped to the window for scale (after about seventeen false starts when I kept jumping back in fear every time it twitched):

Oddly, I was never afraid of spiders until I moved to Australia. That spider you see above is called a Huntsman; they're not actually deadly, just very, very massive (that's probably a baby - adult males often have a legspan of 10") and very, very hairy. They also make a horrible crunching squishing noise when you kill them. My spine is crawling just thinking about it.

Anyway, Huntsman Spiders like to live in large trees. When I lived in Alice Springs, I had to park my car underneath one of those large trees. Once a week or so, a gigantic, hairy spider would drop onto my windshield, and my screams would hit a pitch only audible to dogs. Of course then the little bastards would run onto the roof of the car, and I'd spend the next fifteen minutes in a panicky state, trying frantically to decide whether I should stay where I was until I could identify their location, or make a wild dash for the safety of the house. Thankfully, there seem to be fewer of these spiders in this area of the country than there were in the Alice (the one in my window notwithstanding), and I also no longer have to park under a tree. Reason #53,492 why moving was a good idea.

Have I mentioned that I've also found these bad boys on my bath towel when I stepped out of the shower, and nested in of my socks (there is no worse feeling in the world than sticking your foot in a sock and feeling something hairy tickle your toe)? Both events are guaranteed to wake you up in the morning. So you can see why I've started to be a bit freaked out by spiders. It doesn't help that this country is also home to Sydney Funnel-Webs and Redbacks, both dangerously venomous. Then again, I doubt any of this comes as a surprise to anyone.

Australia is infamous for its lethal wildlife - hell, even the plants are poisonous. Eight of the ten deadliest snakes in the world live in Australia, and all of the the top five are from here. And forget about going in the ocean, unless you want to sample pain from a Box Jellyfish, Blue Ring Octopus or Scorpionfish, not to mention the legendarily aggressive saltwater crocodiles. These crocs are one of the few animals that I am genuinely terrified of - if you see a live one (hopefully at the zoo and not in the wild), look it in the eye and you'll understand. They're not evil, merely instinctive, but there is no mammalian warmth, no hope for affection or mercy - they are cold, calculating, prehistoric killing machines, and that is all.

This photo was taken on a jumping crocodile cruise we went on a few years ago in Darwin. We were in a smallish, single level tour boat like this. I have never been closer to actually peeing my pants.

Why do people still persist in living here when seemingly everything is trying to kill them? Australians have a perverse pride for the multitude of dangers they can unleash on unsuspecting tourists. Further proof of their toughness, I guess - although frankly, I think any country that invented the meat pie floater is just a wee bit unhinged, and possibly gleefully suicidal.

I love these people.

*I have to thank Terry Pratchett, who wrote this in The Last Continent. I've never seen Australia summed up quite so aptly.

Baby nerds

First off - no. I'm not knocked up, nor do I have any intention of being so in the near future. Casa Lisa is not yet open for business, sorry. However, I've recently discovered the joys that shopping for nerd babies can bring.

First up - pirates and ninjas. For the nerds, I need not explain this. For the rest of the world (who are likely not reading this blog), geeks have an ongoing debate as to whether ninjas or pirates are better. Ben is a pirate lover. I am a ninja devotee. That's how we keep things fresh, folks.

And for the gamers: proof that you got laid at least once, and designation of your infant's character skills:

And finally there is this. The holy grail of all baby outfits. The one I must have at all costs, even if it means buying it and shamefully hiding it in a drawer for the next three years:


OK, so that last one isn't just for nerds. But it is pretty damn funny! Can't you tell I'll be a great mother?

Wallowing in nostalgia

Lately, Ben has been using the theme song to The Road Runner Show as our alarm wake up ringtone (yes, we use a phone as an alarm clock - surely we're not the only ones?). This means that I end up walking around all day humming the damn tune, and I've never even seen those old episodes with the theme song. So of course I'm thisclose to losing my mind. But Ben was a big fan as a kid, and is insisting on keeping it to usher us into the day.*

Which means I've been thinking a lot about cartoons lately, and wondering why the ones on TV today are so sucky compared to the ones I remember watching as a kid (of course, I might have just been indiscriminate with my taste, but moving on).


My Little Pony

Ponies. Lots and lots of ponies. Magical ponies. I literally cannot think of a single greater concept for a TV show aimed at little girls. Let me repeat: magical ponies. It's like the holy grail of a pre-teen girl's imaginings. Honestly, what more do I need to say. Magical ponies, folks! (Note: I am not referring to the new, sleek, slender and overly coiffed Ponies. Classics only, sorry. They might have been chunky little numbers that you could use in lieu of a dining table, but they still had style.)


Duck Tales

Duck Tales - wooohoo! Am I the only one who ever wanted to dive in and out of coin piles like Scrooge McDuck? This series has gotten a lot of flack for being a piece of crap, but I still find it surprisingly watchable even today (thanks, YouTube!). It might not be Shakespeare (although there was a twist on Homer), but it's fun and exciting for a kid, and made me wish I had a rich uncle to whisk me away on wild adventures. And for all of Scrooge's, well, scrooge-ness, there was a strong focus on family love and loyalty to teach the little kiddies some life lessons. Thought I'd throw that in there in case you were looking for an excuse to make your kid watch old episodes in a thinly veiled attempt to relive your youth.


The Smurfs

There's no denying that the Smurfs are weird little things. There's the ultimate question of exactly what they are, where they came from, and why one man made it his goal in life to exterminate them. And of course, the question of why Smurfette was the only girl. (Although my personal opinion is that maybe they were all male, and Smurfette was just a cross dresser. What? Could've been.) But at the tender age of five, all I cared about was that they had a catchy theme song and a repetitive plot. Worked for me.


She-Ra: Princess of Power

Between my sister and I, we had about 957 She-Ra toys. This is because She-Ra was seriously badass. I so wanted to be her, with her kickass sword and winged unicorn. Looking back on it, she was actually a fairly respectable heroine: tough, smart, and totally capable of taking care of herself. This was not a girl who needed rescuing by some pansy prince. Speaking of which, I have to say that even as a child, I was always disappointed with her boyfriend Bow. Frankly, the dude is a pussy (the Mattel toy's big move was a beating heart - WTF is that supposed to do to the enemy?). I always hoped she'd dump him and get it on with the clearly virile He-Man - apparently the idea of incest didn't deter me, since the two are siblings. Obviously, I was a strange child.


New Kids on the Block

Oh yes. You'd better believe I went there. For a nine year old girl, Joey was just as dreamy in cartoon form. I actually only saw two episodes of the (incredibly bad) show, which my dad taped for me and my sister. However, we rewatched it until the tape wore out. Oh Joey...


Honorable Mentions: Care Bears, Thundercats (I was a little young for this one, I think) and Rainbow Bright. Also Reading Rainbow, which was my favorite show EVER - but not a cartoon, and therefore doesn't count on this list. But it rocked, so I'm mentioning it anyway.


* Another of Ben's favorite cartoon ringtones is the theme song to BBC's series Bananaman. Bananaman is a schoolboy who transforms into a superhero when he eats a banana; his kryponite-like weakess is (wait for it) mouldy bananas. I told Ben I was sorry that Australian children of his generation had to grow up with such crap cartoons. However, after reading more about Bananaman, I think it may actually be a brilliantly subversive parody of the superhero genre. Maybe.

So it turns out I'm not June Cleaver after all

I am NOT a baker. At all. I'm a pretty damn good cook, but a terrible baker - however, I persist in the notion that someday, somehow, I will become the Martha Stewart of baking (although I guess Martha is already the Martha Stewart of baking - but moving on). So, in a sudden fit of domesticity this evening, I decided to try out the hot new M&M cookie recipe I'd stumbled across earlier this week.

I had high hopes. Deep in my soul, I knew these would be the best cookies ever - light, slightly chewy yet fluffy, with bright M&Ms peeking cheerfully out through the golden brown crust. Yes, they would be the perfect cookie.

Of course, what I ended up with was this:

Let's take a closer look:

Seriously. Doesn't that look like it should belong in the Gallery of Regrettable Food? Eeeeeew.

I even tried to be the world's best house wench and make Ben cheesy "I love you" cookies, but they didn't fare so well:

Yes, it does spell out "I <3 style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c-llRFi2mm0/SKwZ1YHTVQI/AAAAAAAAAQE/qGUuq3gFfVk/s400/Cookies+017b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236588871521883394" border="0">
(Let's take a moment to appreciate my mad Photoshop skills here. And also my cute cupcake towel.)

I did manage to get five decent ones out of the entire batch. Which are piled on top of all the crap cookies, of course - the better to lure unsuspecting eaters:

At least I know someone will volunteer to eat the ones on the bottom:

You can always depend on Korben the Wonder Dog.

Go read this book. Now.

I just finished The Road by Cormac McCarthy.

Oh my...

It was like having my heart ripped out, tapdanced all over, then served to me on a silver platter. But in a good way.

The novel centers on a father and son (names are never mentioned), scraping for survival while traveling through a post-apocalyptic wasteland. The terse, spare writing contributes to the tension and sense of perpetual terror the two face in a planet without animals, plants or sunlight, where all they have is each other in a desperate world populated only by hopeless refugees and savage raiders.

I seldom succumb to emotion when reading - I strongly dislike sentimentalism in novels, and if I scent even the merest whiff of the author attempting to manipulate my emotions, they instantly drop a few notches in my estimation. But Cormac McCarthy made me cry. I became so desperately attached to the characters, it was all I could do not to start bawling when I finally came to the inevitably heartbreaking - yet somehow hopeful - end.

I was also thrilled to discover that there's currently filming in progress for a movie, starring Aragorn from The Lord of the Rings Viggo Mortensen. Not only do I think this is the best casting in the history of movie making (Viggo is such an morose, thoughtful actor), but I can't wait to see him get down and dirty again - is it just me, or is that a man who looks significantly better when grungy?

vs

Sorry about that. I needed to lift the mood a little before I turn into a big soppy mess again. But seriously folks - this is an amazing book from an extraordinarily talented author. It's not a feel good novel, but it is one of the best I've ever read, and speaks strongly of human emotion, love, dedication and hope. Go read it. Now.

5 easy ways to make your husband forget you

1. Hit him over the head with a tack hammer.

2. One word: hypnosis. (As a bonus, you can also make him dance like a chicken everytime you say "The mare's in the paddock!")

3. Black magic.

4. Use the Neuralizer from Men In Black.

5. Get a haircut.

Guess which one works the best? Yep, it's #5! Ben had no idea who I was after I got my hair cut. He came to the library, and I was sitting with my back to him - and he had no clue who I was until I turned around. Then he turned about 15 shades of red.

Some pics of the new 'do, because I'm a big ole attention whore:

Star Trek Online and why it will fail

A guest post from Ben, the man I like to call "husband" and the resident Super Nerd.


Star Trek Online is coming to a MMO near you sometime in the future. It seems to combine both space combat and planetary outings. Some people have said that it combines Eve and Wow together.

I think that the MMO will do really well since they have an established fan base that actively embraces technology. More another reason that it will take off is that currently there isn't any new release Star Trek TV series in production.

With the ready base of Trekkies, I think some people will be roleplaying in this game. While role playing is fun in certain settings the idea of role playing in the star trek universe to me is hilarious. All I can think of is that the people role playing will be 400lb middle aged men dressed up in Star Trek uniforms, covered in Cheeto's crumbs, with their mothers yelling at them from the top of the basement stairs that they need to clean up their room.

People are going to take great advantage of the tightly bottled up nerd rage that is contained within each of these people.

Firstly they will be frothing at the mouth at any tiny technical error in the Star Trek universe - does the inverse tachyon beam interact with the temporal field in this manner, pages of flames on the official forums will ensure, and it will take a brave software developer to venture forth and tell them to STFU. This just comes about from the amount of information put forth in the Star Trek Universe from 40 years of tv shows, movies, and countless novels.

Secondly some people will take great enjoyment out of winding up these die hard fans; in fact I know of one online community that takes great delight in doing this.

Nerd rage - how will this destroy a game that isn't even already released? Well it's easy - go to a group of your geekiest friends and ask them which is better: Star Wars or Star Trek. Just make sure you bring popcorn and play devils advocate whenever they seem to be running out of steam.

So due to a fan base that is going to have unreasonably high expectations on the final product and a subset of the players that get their kicks out of winding up the hard fan, or as they call it, "harvesting tears," I believe that the community will turn upon itself rapidly and end up two tiered: you will have the elitist jerks who make life difficult on the second main group, which is the newbie/casual gamer that is playing for fun.

So here ends my first blog post. Hope you enjoyed it.

P.S. I do enjoy watching Star Trek on TV

Lisa the gamer?

After my last post, someone asked if I play any computer games at all. I do, although not to the extent that Ben does, and I'm pretty old school in my tastes:

Black & White

The original game has been around for 7 years (the sequel was released in 2005), so this isn't exactly cutting edge material, but the storyline appeals to my cracked sense of humor...and possibly my moral flexibility. You quite literally play the Hand of God - a big disembodied, floating hand that represents the deity of a community. Your power rises and falls with the faith of the population, and you can choose between benevolence and terror to influence them. You also also get to train an anthropomorphic creature to be your worldly representation - and there's nothing more awesome than a gigantic, rampaging, evil cow to do your bidding:

(Obviously I think that the terror method is more fun, as I enjoy any game that allows you to pick up and throw the villagers.)

Age of Empires

Another oldie but a goodie - the first one was released in 1997, so this is one of the granddaddies of modern real time strategy games. You advance through historical ages while controlling a population (are we seeing a theme here?) by erecting buildings, growing crops, harvesting natural resources, and maintaining an army to use in assaults on neighboring civilizations.

Each civilization has unique strengths and weaknesses: for example, the Persians suck ass at defensive structures, but their war elephants are practically unstoppable - build up an army of those bad boys and the game map is your oyster. Oh, and if anyone cares, I always play for total conquest wins only. Winning with a Wonder is for losers.

(Side note: yes, I've played Civilization and other similar games. I prefer AoE. Can't put my finger on the reason why - I just do.)


Titan Quest

One of the few non-RTS games that I like, Titan Quest follows your hero as you battle mythological creatures through ancient worlds in an effort to save mankind; training skills (I highly recommend the very cool lightning hurling) and wearing special charms focus your fighting and magical abilities.

Even though it's not the kind of game I normally play, I jumped at this when Ben brought it home, mostly because I was really into Greek mythology as a kid (when else do your parents encourage you to read about eternal torture, incest and bestiality?). This game is also what led me to the realization that Ben and I have very different gaming styles - he enjoys the watching the lengthy lead-in so he can hear the epic backstory, which he feels adds to the overall gaming experience. I, on the other hand, couldn't wait to skip the monologue and just start cracking some monster skull. (And I still say that my way is better. Who gives a rat's about the backstory when there are centaurs, gorgons, minotaurs, gigantic spiders and Harryhausen-esque skeletons to slay? We don't need no stinkin' plot.)


Evil Genius

Possibly my favorite game of all time, which should tell you a lot about my personality. It's a pretty basic concept: you select an Evil Genius, build a secret lair (on an island, natch) with the help of your henchmen, and defend it against government agents while establishing world domination through evil deeds. The defending part is where the real fun is, since the best way to get rid of agents is through ridiculously elaborate traps - the very best ones involve oversized flamethrowers:

Say it with me: sah-weet! Look at those flames! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!


I'm sure nerds are seeing a theme by now. The kinds of games I dislike are, well - Eve. Nothing against the concept, but I get my thrills by being evilly manipulative, and I like games with a social element and a human face...and preferably with a nastily funny undertone (The Sims does nothing for me, although creating incestuous family trees and then killing them all in a gas explosion could be amusing). Inanimate objects like Eve's spaceships just don't blow wind up my skirt, so it's not likely that Ben and I will ever team up to take over the universe together.

But I'll join him for a round of AoE any day. I call Persians.