Other People

Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. I know that you all come to this site wanting to know what’s new in my life, but I feel your patience with stories about Ann may have reached a critical point. Jokingly someone compared me to Marie Antoinette over a decade ago; and while I love cake (pound, to be exact), perhaps it is time for a little humility.

Today, I am going to share some of my favorite things about other people. Without them, my life would not be nearly interesting enough to share with you. (While many might argue that it’s not that interesting now, you’re the one reading this. Touche!)

My husband. In the nearly three years we have been married he has never once started a meal any other way than by saying, “Thank you for dinner, Ann. It looks great!” Followed by a quick kiss.

My Dad. He built a tower in the woods like a crazy person. (I am secretly jealous of how cool it is.) Must be why he always had me keep my hair short!

My Vet. She thinks my cat stories are hilarious. I know, what else is she going to do while she sticks a thermometer up my cats A*%? But, really, I think she cares!

My boss. We can spend nine, 10-hour days together in a row and not kill each other. We even like each other. Also, she has a gum ball machine in her office.

My Girls. Unlike many of my peers, my hometown group of gals has remained tight knit. Though we are scattered about – Chicago, German Valley, IL, Quad Cities, Jainesville, WI and Springfield, MO – we still find time to get together once a year. Pickle roll-ups abound!

My husband’s cousin’s wife. (Sorry, that’s the best I can do.) She proudly announced that if Julia Child didn’t start cooking until she was 30, than by George there’s hope for all of us. Cook on!

My brother-in-law.See “Need to call Robert” at this blog. Also, he’s the only person I that always laughs so hard whatever he is drinking comes out of his nose.

My first grade student teacher. She taught me to read, and someday she will help me teach my children to read. Amazing how life can come full circle.

My high school sweetheart’s mom. She taught me how to love being in the kitchen – how to feel your way through a recipe. And, she put up with all of the meals that were pretty bad in the beginning.

My BF. No one. And, I mean NO ONE can pull of spandex like Lindsay Spandex!

My mom. Where to begin? On car trips, she would make a list of musical songs we could sing together to pass the time. She picked me up from school for lunch every Friday. She is my example for living life and loving all.

Who is your favorite person and why?

(Please note: If you want to seem unique, feel free to come up with an alias for your story about me... seriously though, write about someone else.)

Themes

I love a good theme. I love them. When I come up with a "seed" of an idea, I can't stop until I have a whole bloody acre of maize. I know it's a corny analogy (get it, get it), but I simply cannot stop once the kernel is sowed.

Take my wedding for example. I was determined NOT to make it a themed wedding. I mean, no one wants a mermaid bridesmaid gown and sea shell cake (scribble, scribble), but once the save the dates were out, it was on. For those of you who I was not fortunate enough to befriend until after my wedding (or for those of you who have terrible memories because otherwise you would remember my amazing save the date), it was a small paper crane with the save the date info printed on the wings. My husband used to make them for me (well... for everyone) when we were dating. But then I had ideas... what else can we (he) fold?! It was a hard struggle not to immediately go straight for lanterns and chopsticks and tea and..... and.... Instead, I settled on hand-folded paper boxes to house our favors (above) and holders for our menu cards. (And, endless praise to my husband who folded all of them... and still married me.)

Right now, I am co-hosting a shower for my favorite second-cousin-in-law and her "bean." It's an alphabet theme. Because what says welcome to the world more than a 40" long accordion invitation with the mom's name on it and a phrase or word starting with each letter in said name describing the parents-to-be?! I'll tell you what! A cube cake in the shape of a baby block - alphabet prizes for the alphabet related games - gifts for different letters in the alphabet. It's going to be great! (Kuddos to the co-host and mom for putting up with me.)

For those of you who love me, you know that Christmas is the worst. Each year, I pick a color theme. Then, I scour the Hobby Lobby ads until the week when all of the ornaments are on sale. I descend upon this delightful super store (but not on Sunday - which I respect, but secretly hate), and get every white and silver ball in sight (so last year). In an order to curtail, this year, for the first time ever, I am repeating a colorway. Please forgive me, as I know you will all be heart broken to know that your gifts will once again don the reds and golds from 2005. (WHAT?! Yes, I already know my Christmas colors. Doesn't everyone?)

It's a sickness people! (Please send all creative and fantastic themes attn: Ann.)


Have you ever thrown an all-out themed event? Have you ever been to one that was just too over the top?

Bike-to-Work Week

This was Bike-to-Work Week in Chicago. In 2006, my employer, Paper Source, won the Bike to Work Week Commuter Challenge in the category of business/non-profit 100-499 employees. Everyone was encouraged to help us earn back the title - with a goal of 50% employee participation. (Even the CEO rode her bike 22 miles into the city!)

Before I gloat about how I did ride the one mile stint to and from the train station (which counts) one day last week, let me talk a bit about my problem with Bike-to-Work Week.

I am a fan of non-driving commuting. I love encouraging people to move around (I hesitate to use the term exercise because I don't think a one-mile ride counts. Horrible person?) But! I do both of those things EVERY DAY. My husband drops me off in the morning at the Metra station. I take the commuter train into the city and then walk the .75 mile to the office. I do the same for the reverse commute, except I walk home from the station. Now, I'm no hero, but shouldn't that count?! It didn't. In fact, we had to go out and spend money to get a new bike lock and innertubes for the bike.

However... with my grumbling out of the way, I am excited to say that I did it! (Even though I really didn't want to.) My super-bike-lovin-so-excited-he-got-up-early-to-take-pictures husband was thrilled. He has been trying to get me on a bike with him since our dating days. I know he hoped it would be the start of my new great love for two hour rides along the lake with him. While I did remember the joy of ridding with the breeze blowing through your hair (well... around your helmet. You should wear a helmet!), it soon lost it's glory as the North Shore's endless collection of SUVs came whizzing past. Perhaps I can get a fancy bell and some streamers... I can usually be convinced with the right accessories.


What are your huffy memories and peg dreams?

Racy Car!

I drove a racy car. Ok. So. Maybe it was like your dad bungeed his lawn mower motor to the back of your sled, but it was pretty fun.

When my father came up for a visit last weekend, we wanted to show him a good time. In addition to the traditional activities of a lovely weekend in Chicago - including the Art Institute, a ride down the Chicago river, brunch at the Signature Room, and a stroll through Millennium park - we drove up north to Buffalo Grove to have a little excitement on the track.

The go-charts at Chicago Indoor Racing are pretty intense. The carts have a top speed of 35 miles per hour. Additionally, you have to go through safety training (a short video designed to scare the crap out of you) and put on a fire suit and helmet.

Although I looked pretty rad in my fire suit, I was not the best on the track. I was not the best by far. But! Most importantly, I was not the worst (by one person). My husband and brother-in-law (who have been a number of times, for the record) both score in the 95th percentile of all people who have ever raced there... ever!

So to recap. It's best to let the slow racers drive home. Ann looks amazing in all head wear (side note: I am in search of a fabulous floppy hat, if anyone finds one). And, everyone should go! (Invite us... we're available!).


Share your latest weekend adventure!

No imitation

For those of you who know me... I'm not a big fan of short cuts in the kitchen. I like the idea of efficiency, but most of the time (let's be honest, all of the time) there's no comparison to the real deal.

It is a tradition in my family that you simply do not skimp on birthdays. Today's the hubby's big day. So, in honor of his entry into his (early) late twenties, I thought you might all enjoy some cake!


Bonus. Here's the recipe for Annie's Chocolate Ganache Frosting. Enjoy!

Chocolate Ganache Frosting

1 stick of softened, unsalted butter
1 pound confectioners sugar
1 teaspoon real vanilla extract
1/4 - 1/2 cup half and half
1/2 bag of semisweet or dark chocolate chips

• Fill a small pan half full of water and bring to a simmer.
• Place a glass or stainless bowl over the top and reduce heat.
• Pour chocolate chips into the bowl.
• Stir until complete melted. (but, while the chips are melting...)
• In a mixer, combine the butter, confectioners sugar, vanilla and half of the half and half until completely incorporated.
• While the mixer is on low, slowly add in the melted chocolate.
• Add the remainder of the half and half until you get to the right consistency.
• Frost!

Shootin' Spuds

Once again, for those of you who haven't heard this a million times, I am from the corn. And in the corn, we find ridiculous ways to spend our time. Throughout high school and college many of my peers made potato guns. Not for the faint of heart, this canon-like apparatus can chuck a tuber from one goal post to the other.

And, so my husband, brother-in-law and I were delighted when my father-in-law called and asked us to build one to share with the inner-city kids that were staying with the family as part of the Big Brothers, Big Sisters program this Memorial Day weekend.

For those of you who are inexperienced, here's the basic recipe: PVC pipe + gas grill igniter + hair spray. I prefer Aqua Net myself, but feel free to use the aerosol of your choice.

By the end of the evening we even had Grandma shootin' spuds. Most exciting, for the first time, someone offered to try to catch the potatoes. Those inner-city baseball players have some guts. (As well as potato-shaped bruises on their forearms.)

I image their welcome home conversation will go something like this:
Mother of inner-city youth: Did you have something to keep you from getting too bored in Central Illinois?
Inner-city youth: Yeah. They shot potatoes at our heads.


What's your favorite home-town tradition?

A blast from the.... current?!

After a serious hiatus, I'm back. I was kindly scolded by many of my favorite people for not keeping up my blog. So here we go....



My husband and I were recently invited to an 80's party to celebrate the birthday of a college friend. Though we had originally planned our exciting Friday tradition of watching a movie and eating too much pizza, we made a last minute decision to go for it!

Much to my husband's disappointment, this meant we needed to find 80's gear... and fast. It was 2 p.m. and the Madonna would be blaring from a jambox by 10. But, where to start? I was in the loop and, as one might imagine, there are not many vintage shops in the central business district of Chicago. To top it off, I had other things in mind... like enjoying my afternoon with a friend I see very little of and finding a pair of jeans that don't show my crack. (Can I get an "amen?")

Because good jeans always take priority, I resigned myself to some blue eyeshadow, and we headed off to the Magnificent Mile.

It's important at this point to say that both my friend and I found great jeans!

I learned a valuable lesson walking from one trendy store to the next... people are not learning valuable lessons. Hello, America! Wearing baby chew toys as earrings was never good. Leggings make the tiniest of us chunky. An off the shoulder sweater? Ok... maybe... but only because Flash Dance was kickin'!

And so my hubby and I donned the most fabulous collection of "new" clothes. We partied on to Duran Duran, Michael Jackson and Depeche Mode in true (2008) style.

But my point. The 80's are back. And still bad!


What do you think of the new/old trends? What's your favorite 80's memory? Come on... dish!