Nutella-Rum Cookies

While Merk is off, I like to bake a few times a month. Really, I'd bake more if I could get away with it, but you saw my last post - my body shape can't afford having me baking all the time. I take the proceeds down to one of the local farmer's markets to my friends there so that I'm not stuck with a full batch of something weighing me down.

Today, I made an adaptation of the flourless cocoa peanut butter cookies from Baking Bites, one of my favorite cooking/baking blogs. She talks about the cookies being chewy and tender, but my recipe isn't that way at all. My cookies came out supremely fragile and light, almost like a meringue, and ended up dissolving on the tongue with an amazing delicacy of flavor.

Here's what I did:


3/4 cup brown sugar
1 large egg

3 Tbsp cocoa powder
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup nutella
1-1 1/2 shots rum
1/2-2/3 cup butterscotch chips

Preheat the oven to 350 F and line your baking sheet with a Silpat (or use parchment paper if you have no Silpats. If you have no Silpats, though, put one down on your birthday gift list because I can't live without mine). Beat egg and sugar together until light and fluffy, then add in cocoa powder, vanilla, baking soda, and salt. Once fully incorporated, dump the nutella in and mix well. At this point, you'll have a very thick fudgy batter. Drizzle in your rum and sprinkle the chips in, and mix until fully incorporated.

Scoop into 1" balls (but leave a lot of room, these things spread) and bake for 12-14 minutes, or until shiny and crisp on the outside. Pull from the oven and let cool for 3-5 minutes and then remove to a cooling rack to finish cooling off. BE CAREFUL, as these cookies are extremely delicate. This is why you used parchment paper - if something gets stuck, you can very gently loosen it with a spatula or even peel the cookie off the sheet.

This is a recipe I am going to come back to time and time again - it's quick, uses few ingredients, and the result is a cookie like I've never tasted before!

Habits are a lot tougher to beat than you'd think.

Let's face it: I'm fat. It's something I've been coming to terms with for most of my life, and I have so many issues surrounding and involving it that sometimes I feel overwhelmed. Merk worries about me - both for my physical and mental health. He sees the difficulties I have going out and meeting strangers, especially those connected with his work. For years, he's told me that he just wants me to be healthy and happy, and we still have discussions and difficulties arising from this theme a few times a year.

There was a trip I took to take Merk lunch six months ago, when I asked to see the gym on base. We were about to get out of the car when I suffered a panic attack. Needless to say, we didn't go in.

I recently took an airplane ride from the other side of the country where the seats were 17.2" wide. Get a ruler and take a look at how big that actually is - a lot of people will fit that. I pretty much didn't. It was horrifyingly embarrassing. A six hour plane ride feeling like a hippopotamus stuffed in a clown car, feeling sorry for the poor German man sitting next to me. He was very kind about it, but it didn't stop me from feeling horrible.

It is really tough to change a bad habit, especially when it's one you've been propagating for over 10 years. Especially when it's one that you've been trying to ignore.

I go for walks a few times a week, but it hasn't changed much. I try to eat well, but it never seems to be well enough to make a change. There was a brief time that I had scheduled sessions with a personal trainer - I was loyal to going to them until I got the super cold from Hell and could barely move. It's hard to work out when every two minutes you're hacking so hard that people are concerned you have the Black Plague.

I'm trying to change the bad habits again, and it's a day-to-day struggle. Today was day one of going to the gym - it's further than I'm really comfortable going, but it's open 24 hours a day so I can go at 2am when there's no one there. We'll see how I manage this time, but there are no guarantees.

'Old' vs. 'Young.'

I spent some time with one of my aunts last night for the first time in years. We caught up, talked about my grandparents some (the main reason for my visit out to New Jersey), and briefly flipped through the photos of my not-wedding party from last October. She wanted to know what it was that Merk did, where he was, and the usual questions that follow a line of conversation like that.

After finding out that things are tricky with re-enlisting right now, she asked the question that I expected to hear - whether or not I wanted him to stay in the military.

"Yes," I said, "as long as he wants to stay in."

"Isn't that dangerous?" she inquired.

"I don't care about the danger, I just want him happy."

"That's young," she said.

That's the first time I've ever really wanted to smack a family member in the face. That inclination didn't fully crystallize until several hours later when I was thinking about it, but let's break this down. My aunt feels that my outlook about Merk is 'young' because it apparently perpetuates a 'feeling of invincibility.' I didn't have the opportunity to explain my side to her, as conversation moved on very rapidly (my parents were there, and my mother almost immediately changed the subject. I'm pretty certain she realized that was not a good topic to be on), but let's go through that now.

Merk works a very serious job in a very serious place. He plays down the danger whenever we talk, but let's face a fact here - he's currently over in the Middle East. Even if he is in the most safe area out there, it's still dangerous right now. Someone could decide at any moment to bomb the base that he's localized on. He could go out into town and be maimed or killed just because he's white.

There's absolutely nothing I can do about that. Nothing. He's on the other side of the world, and even if I wanted to keep him safely cocooned in plastic wrap, there's no way to do that while he's over there. Yes, he's in danger. Yes, he could die or come home paralyzed or missing an eye or a limb. It's the chance he takes so that he can do something that makes him feel worthwhile.

Let's face a fact here. I could go outside, right now, and be run over by a car. It doesn't matter if I stay on the sidewalk or go running out into traffic - it's a legitimate possibility. The elevator in this antiquated hotel could fail and I could plunge four stories to my maiming. Danger is everywhere, but most people ignore it because they've learned how to minimize their chance of being hurt.

That's what Merk's training does for him. Yes, he's in danger, but he has been given the tools to minimize the danger that he is in. My primary concern is whether or not Merk feels fulfilled. I want him happy and feeling like what he does matters. Few people these days have that luxury, so as long as I can manage that for him, it's what I'll do. If being 'young' is worrying more about whether someone feels worthwhile than about how much danger they're in, I'm going to stay young as long as possible.

Boxes are da bomb!

Let's get one thing straight: I love getting packages. This is not the usual like that most people feel for getting something in the mail - it's a problem. I. Flippin'. LOVE. Packages. It's something that's easily kept under control when Merk is in town, because he and I do tons of stuff together.

When he's out of town, though, watch out! It's not like I go insane and buy up tons of crap, but the stuff that I've been putting off because it just doesn't seem important? That stuff normally makes an appearance within a few months of him leaving. Like a replacement bra for my favorite worn-every-day-when-it's-not-stinky one. I was depressed last week when I noticed that the underwire on it had ripped its way out of its casing along 1/4 of the cup. Seriously, how did I miss that?

So once I noticed that, it was a slippery slope. It is far to easy to go trolling online to my favorite store and -- oooooh, it's buy one, get one half off? AND matching underwear that looks like it should be comfortable but is still cute?! Oh, my! Long story short, a few days later I was waiting for a modestly sized box. I love the impetus it gives me to check my mail box every day, the anticipation of bringing the box inside and staring at it for a few minutes while the cats investigate. I adore carefully cutting through the tape and exploring the contents. It's almost like receiving the box is 3/4 of the pleasure of the item itself.

Imagine my happiness, then, when Merk sent me a box a few years ago while he was on deployment. This thing was HUGE. At least 2 1/2 foot square, it arrived when I was asleep. My delight upon opening the door to see such a monster of a gift on my doorstep was immense. What in the world could he have sent me? After bringing the mystery box inside, I place it carefully on the floor and force myself to ignore it for a few hours. I spend some time with our cat, Frak, and water our only plant, a stunted pine tree about 1 1/2 feet tall that my mother had gifted me for the previous Christmas.

Eventually, the monolith waiting in the middle of the floor can no longer be ignored, and I get the scissors. I cut through the seeming yards of tape and lift the cardboard flaps. I paw delicately through the layer of Styrofoam peanuts lining the top, and freeze in confusion. Cocooned lovingly within the box, I have uncovered two dozen Aquaglobes.

Two. Dozen. Aquaglobes. If you didn't catch it when I mentioned it earlier - Merk and I owned one plant. One. Why would I be sent two dozen Aquaglobes in the mail? Believe me, I didn't have an answer for that one. The only response Merk came up with was, 'I got a really good deal!'

That's right, we're a very special pair. I love getting packages in the mail, and Merk can't control himself around a deal. He complains that I will never stop telling this story, and it's true. I never will, and that's because right then, standing in front of 2 1/2 cubic feet of blown glass that I (mostly) had no use for, I realized that sometimes I didn't want the box.

It's how I talk myself out of getting things I don't really need - I just tell myself that Merk will send a box of Aquaglobes in retribution.

It's like painting... with science!

Unbeknownst to most of you who will read this, there is a movement taking place. No, I'm not talking about Occupy. I've never been very politically savvy, and I doubt I ever will be, so let's table that discussion.

Right now, there are hundreds of people who are unsatisfied with the colors available to them for nail polish. I know, it's trivial, but for some people it's at the very least something that they can get creative with. As my mother will attest, I love to get creative. Back when I was young, I would spend hours mixing random things together to see what would happen. My room at my parents' house is painted three different shades of green with a yellow ceiling. The curtains are orange/red, and the bedclothes are about six different colors.

It is not a room most people find relaxing.

So when I started exploring the world of nail polish, it didn't take me too long to come across the world of frankenpolish. An obvious reference to Mary Shelly's well-known character, the term refers to mixing bits of existing polish to create your own unique shade. For those of you who know me, you will realize I find this to be a very appealing idea.

I have started to mix colors of my own, and it will take me a while to find my individual voice - but, hey! That's what artistry is all about! I'm still in the middle of finding a good 6-8 recipes that I like well enough, and then I'll try selling 5ml bottles on Etsy for a while to see if I stack up to everyone else on there.

It's a challenge to come up with something that will be individual enough to sell well, but I'm always up for a challenge! I can't wait to see what I come up with, and I'll keep you posted on my creations. For now, the only color that's near enough to muster is up on facebook. Let me know what you think!

Some Days, There's More than One Test.

Let's talk about scams. I am supposed to be taking my Theory II final right now, but I can't concentrate because I am so angry.

The scam, taken from the perspective of the victim, does more than just to get your money. I mean, yes; the purpose for the perpetrator is pretty much exclusively to separate you from as much money as they can. The victim usually ends up feeling like a squab. They stop trusting as much, and usually are out a fair bit of money.

Let's give a personal example here. Back somewhere around 2000, I went to the Beachwood mall with Bunny. We wandered around, and at some point we pass a kiosk with those name-on-a-grain-of-rice necklaces. The dude started talking to me, and I was too polite to tell him to leave me alone. Ten minutes later, I had my name on a grain of rice inside a dolphin, and the dude had $20 from me. I never wanted the dumb thing, but it happened. I lost the necklace at some point ten years later, but I kept it around for ages as a reminder of what happens when you have problems telling people no. It was one of my first self-learned lessons, and it stuck. Hard.

Everyone falls for a scam at some point in their lives. Hopefully it's a small one, but occasionally it's not. Let's go through my day yesterday.

I didn't sleep at all two nights ago, so by noon I was pretty solidly exhausted. I took a nap. At 1:30, my father-in-law called and woke me up. He was terribly upset and asked me if Merk was ok. I was 3/4 asleep, but had talked to my husband that morning at 9:00 a.m. over Skype. Apparently, Merk's mother had called his father and said that something had happened to Merk.

I can understand why that would be upsetting, but I just assured Merk's dad that my husband was fine, he had just gone to sleep a few hours before, and as far as I knew absolutely nothing was going on. A good wife at this point would have called her mother-in-law to see what was going on, but I fell asleep within three minutes, and had forgotten all about it when I woke up.

This morning, I hop onto Facebook to see Merk's first status since he left for his big-sandbox-adventures: "All: I am fine. If anyone calls you on my behalf, saying I need help, money, or whatever else, call my CDO. He will know within 20 minutes if anything has happened to me." My heart sank. What had happened? Was there some news blip that I had missed?

Luckily for me, the husband is online. I ask him what had happened and mentioned my nap-experience and apologized for not telling him earlier or taking further steps. He said that he had found out about this when his mother noticed him on Facebook and messaged him in a tizzy. Here's what had happened:

At some point yesterday, someone called Merk's maternal grandparents and told them that Merk had been arrested in Barcelona, and he needed $2400 for bail money or he'd be in deep shit with his command. Being the loving, supportive people that they are, they promptly wired the money to the 'US Consulate agent.' Then, they called Merk's mother to let her know what had happened. Then, she called her ex-husband, and he called me.

Let's break this down. For those of you who aren't aware, Merk's in the military. He's currently over in the United Arab Emirates somewhere doing Something Important. That's about all I know about what he's up to while he's on deployment, but I don't want to know much more. I don't want to be one of those wives who accidentally lead bad people to harm the military or their families, so this will be the most information that's ever posted about him up on this thing.

Okay, so United Arab Emirates. Where is that, exactly? It's in the Middle East, in what looks to me like the middle. It's about as middle as you can be. Barcelona is allll the way over in Spain. If you look at the map below, it's in the green section (Europe), just off the left of the frame.

That's a long way apart. According to Google Maps, it would take 3 days, 5 hours of driving to get you from one to the other. Merk told his family where he was going, so one would hope that they realized how far apart the two places are, even if in a vague 'wow, he's a long way away from where he said he would be'-type way.

Ok, let's say that for some reason Merk did go to Barcelona. He gets arrested for, I don't know, getting in a dude's face for yelling at a lady. He's sitting there in jail, and the only way for him to get out is for his family to pay $2400? So that the military doesn't get him into deep doodoo? I've heard stories from the days that Merk was in Guam. In a situation like this, the military would get Merk out of prison and then bear down upon him with the holy wrath of a prima donna denied her usual part. It doesn't matter if Merk had gotten out of prison before the military got around to it; they would find out, and he would still be in hot water. I could be wrong here, but I'm relatively certain that's how it works.

But Merk's grandparents didn't have the opportunity to think it through. I cannot blame them for this at all, because if I had taken that phone call, I would have freaked out and probably done the same thing. They heard that their beloved grandson was in trouble and responded as the caring people that they are. They also don't have the luxury that I do, of talking to Merk a few times a week over Skype, even if it is nothing more than leaving him a message when I go to sleep and having one waiting for me when I wake up. I don't know when they had last heard from him, but it was undoubtedly a while. Given less information than I have, I can completely understand freaking out and just reacting.

I am not upset with his grandparents in this situation. The person I am upset with is whoever has decided to scam two loving people out of over two thousand dollars by telling an utter fabrication. I have no idea how person X figured out that Merk was in the military, deployed, and that his grandparents were his grandparents, but it sickens me. How could someone do this? Merk does what he does because he believes in protecting the rights that most of us take for granted. Someone out there is taking advantage of the fact that the family doesn't know much about what their military member is doing abroad.

There's not much I can do other than getting the word out, so spread it. Let people know that if someone calls you to say that your friend/husband/family member in the military is in trouble and needs money now, do the smart thing. Take down the number that called you, call the CDO, and ask. The military isn't going to send someone halfway around the world and then let them disappear to another country without knowing about it. Don't let yourself be taken in.