Total Eclipse of the Heart

    My obsession with sushi started at a young age. I remember my dad took my brother and I to Mt. Fugi the night before the first day I entered the seventh grade. I was skeptical at first, but after the first bite of California Roll I was hooked. I have since moved on to more daring rolls and sashimi. I couldn’t get enough of the flavors and freshness. I never knew a food could be so impressive. When recounting my Mt. Fugi experience to my fellow brace-faced friends at school, I expected to be hoisted upon their shoulders while they chanted my name across the schoolyard. But sadly, I just received disgusted looks and ugly remarks. “You’re so gross, Anna. You eat raw fish AND have permed bangs?!” 

    But I knew that I was on to something special, and that I held a power my peers didn’t. I knew a secret. Sushi trumped EVERYTHING. It’s sort of like adding infinity to the end of a threat. Oh, come on. You know what I’m referring to. My brother and I would have these incredibly agitating arguments that would result in a game of Who Hates the Other Person More. We’d throw out insults like, “ I hate you more than I would hate taking a suppository from Barney.....I hate you so much that just hearing a letter from your stupid name makes me dry heave to the point that I pass out.” This kind of talk would last quite a while and would some how end with, “I hate you more than anyone has hated anything in the history of the universe.”  Followed by, “Well, I hate you so much that every time you say you hate me I automatically hate you a million times worse and this automatic hate machine, that only I possess, lasts forever...for INFINITY.” Whatever the hell that was suppose to mean. It made perfect sense when I was eight.

    So if someone were to approach me with, “I had Tex-Mex for dinner.” I would respond with, “I had sushi.” Conversation over. Done. That chump got trumped. I win. If everyone doesn’t know this secret.....great. More sushi for me. Plus, sushi makes you appear worldly. Even more worldly if you know the names of the fish you are consuming and how to properly use chopsticks. To this day, I am still shocked when I hear an adult request a fork over chopsticks.  I wouldn’t even mind it if they asked the waiter to kiddy-rig their chopsticks with a rubber band. At least they would be trying . 

    Kyle and I recently dined at a Japanese Steakhouse called Umi. It’s just like Shoguns. So far it’s the only restaurant I know of that serves decent sushi. Our waiter Ning looked surprised when I requested chopsticks, and the fellow patrons dressed in Auburn and Alabama hoodies and visors looked even more surprised when he delivered the Caterpillar and Spicy Tuna Rolls to our table. I didn’t need that kind of judgement, dammit. I wasn’t judging their stupid conversations full of double negatives or even making fun of their oh-so-adventurous beef and chicken platters that they accompanied with Budweisers. It’s not like I was eating placenta. But you never know, it could be delicious.

  You may have guessed that my hobby for this week is sushi rolling. I have always wanted to make my own rolls but didn’t ever really need to. Fayetteville offers so many great Japanese restaurants. Don’t get me wrong, I would go to Umi here in Florence every week. I consider Ning to be one of my closest friends now (he has kind eyes...but doesn’t know my name). I figure sushi making would be a good skill to have, and I want to utilize all of the fresh fish Alabama has to offer.

   I referred to a couple of websites and watched some tutorials on the Internet to get myself familiar with this process. I felt fairly confident trying out this hobby because I’ve tried a lot of sushi in my day and frequently sit at the sushi bar. Next, I made a grocery list. I wanted to attempt a California Roll with twist. Honestly, I was most excited about naming my roll. I’ve always been good at naming things, and my dream job would be working for Crayola in the color naming department....Robin’s Egg Blue.....Marigold....Booger Green. I decided to put cream cheese, crab, and cucumber on the inside of my roll and lay slivers of salmon on the outside. Don’t know why I picked these....just thought it seemed pretty good. I have been very anti shrimp lately. Augie has been experiencing some anal leakage that smells similar to shrimp. I lovingly call him Shrimp Butt. He also has worms, so I can't eat anything that has shredded parmesan cheese on it. Eck. 

Grocery Store Purchases (can get most of these things at Walmart):

1. Pkg. of Crab ( wasn’t super fresh, but surprisingly good...not too fishy)
2. Salmon filet (sliced into thin strips)
3. Cream Cheese
4. Cucumber
5. Wasabi
6. Soy Sauce
7. Bag of Sushi rice
8. Pkg. of 20 nori sheets (seaweed paper for wrapping)

Directions (makes about 2 rolls)

Step 1: Take one cup of the sushi rice and 1 cup of water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 15 minutes. Needs to be sticky. Let cool for a few minutes. 

Step 2:  Scoop up some rice and form it into a ball. Set onto a nori sheet and form the rice into a bow tie shape. Press rice out to the perimeter of the sheet. Flatten the rice until you have a thin layer.

Step 3: Carefully flip the rice covered nori sheet over. On the side closest to you, place the ingredients you want on the sheet into thin horizontal lines. More is less. Too many ingredients will make it difficult to roll.

1.) Cucumber 2.) Crab 3.) Cream Cheese

Step 4: Take the edge of the nori sheet closet to you and lift it up and over with your fingers VERY SLOWLY. Let gravity do the work. As you are doing this, place any fallen rice back on the sheet and gently form the cylinder with your hands. Just do this until the side you lifted falls to the other side. Do not continue to roll it just yet.

Step 5:  To secure the roll, take a bamboo mat and gently place it over the roll. FORM (slightly squeeze), PRESS, and ROLL (a short distance) until the roll comes back to it’s starting position. Once again, be very careful. I received a bamboo mat as a gift a few years ago from Pier I. I'm sure Oriental grocery stores sell them as well.

Step 6:  Squeeze and spread a little wasabi on the top of the rice. Yum (looks like snot).

Step 7: I placed slivers of sliced salmon on top of the roll.

Step 8: Cut into one inch pieces (diagonally).

Step 9: Get ready by putting a dab of wasabi into your soy sauce container and break it up into small pieces. This gives it a kick.

Step 10: Grab your chopsticks and a Kirin Ichiban. Enjoy your “Total Eclipse of the Heart” Roll.

Not too pretty....but scrumptious. 

Namaste

Paintballing didn’t happen. Kyle and I  got amped up to shoot each other and cured our hangovers at a place called Peppers. Then, we drove out into the country in search of the next amazing hobby. I was more than disappointed when we arrived to North Alabama Paintball. It was basically an overgrown soccer field, fenced in by a ratty net with large holes. Protection from your opponents consisted of stacked cement blocks posing as walls scattered throughout the battlefield. This paintball ghost town was overseen by an inbred cooking meth in a yellow lopsided trailer at the entrance of the park. Needless to say, we bailed. I had so many grand expectations for paintballing. Haven’t these people seen the movie Failure to Launch? Matthew McConaughey and Sarah Jessica Parker make shooting strangers and running around an inflatable castle look glamorous and exciting. Oh, you haven’t seen the movie? Don’t...it sucks.

I needed to find another hobby and fast. Shrinky dinking was fun, but I ran out of the special paper by Thursday. Sunday evening I tried to wash off my frustration with a bubble bath, but I couldn’t. I’ve always had a really hard time relaxing. I don’t know if I know how to just chill out. I’ll admit it, I’m wound a little too tight. I try to clear my mind and picture white light or imagine myself gazing at clouds in a meadow. These attempts at meditation are often interrupted with...YOU DON’T HAVE A JOB.....YOU ARE -30.12 IN YOUR BANK ACCOUNT.....YOU HAVE CROW’S FEET. Very irritating. But on this Sunday evening my irritation subsided and a lightbulb turned on. My hobby list had the answer....YOGA.

I recalled a sign I saw at this bar Kyle and I have taken a liking to called On the Rocks. It was advertising a yoga studio, and I made a mental note. I tried yoga about 7 years ago, before it was insanely popular. It did not leave me with an invigorating feeling. This was probably because Willie Nelson’s doppleganger was doing a headstand in the center of the room while breathing and snorting like a freight train. So I pulled a typical Anna move and got the hell out of that studio. However, I am new and improved and looking for adventure.

Earlier this evening I attended a yoga class at Shoals Yoga. I took a Level 1 Hatha Yoga Class. It’s an introduction to the Hatha Yoga practice and is focused on proper breathing and yoga postures. The website ensured that I would have a feeling of complete peace upon completion. And you know what? I did and still do! I feel like I’m floating on a cloud, and I cannot stop smiling. This class was exactly what I needed to take the edge off. You don’t realize that most of the time, you are breathing too shallowly or not breathing correctly whatsoever. Apparently, I did not know how to breathe properly before this experience. The yoga session wasn’t incredibly grueling or painful. It was just what the doctor ordered. I think I may keep this hobby.

Shrinky Dinks

    I did something kind of wacky yesterday. Not impulsive, but nonetheless a little crazy. I registered to race in a half marathon that will take place February 13 in Birmingham. Why I thought it would be a good idea to train and compete in the dead of winter is beyond me. But I’m staying committed. Plus I don’t think the $60 fee is refundable. 

    I ran about three miles yesterday without stopping and without vomiting. I dread the raw nipples that are surely to come. You should just Band-aid them up, right? That’s what Kyle does. However, he always forgets to take his nipple bandages off, and I often find him passed out on the couch, covered in sweat with nude colored nips. 

    I’m not sure how I’m going to juggle all of these hobbies with this half marathon training. Geez. Having a life is exhausting, so this week I’m just experimenting with a half-ass hobby, a filler hobby if you will. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always wanted to try this hobby, but it is not something I plan on dedicating hours to, and it is not as daring as some of the other activities I have on my list. 

    The hobby for this week.....SHRINKY DINKING! Shrink dinks? Yes! I’ve never actually participated in this crafting extravaganza, but my students last year introduced me to the art project. It seems simple enough. Plus I thought it might give others an idea of something they could do in this yucky weather. It’s also a great group activity. I know many of you, including myself, will be spending time with family members over the next few weeks. This activity is great for your ADHD nieces or nephews. It will keep them occupied and their fingers out of the electrical sockets and their feces for at least an hour. 

   So if you want to shrink some dinks, go to Hob Lob and pick up a kit. They are about five dollars. You will need permanent markers to draw and color various pictures.  If you plan on using the Shrinky Dinks as jewelry or ornaments (like I am) you will need string, yarn, or pipe cleaners.

Directions:  find some inspiration*, doodle your diddle, color, cut, hole punch, bake in the oven at 325 degrees for about 2 minutes, string ‘em up, and hang ‘em up. 

    Back to the finding inspiration* part, you may want to sit down and brainstorm some ideas before you draw on the Shrinky Dink paper. Like I said, I am using the Shrinky Dink kit to help me make Christmas ornaments for my friends and family (you’re welcome), so my drawings were holiday themed. So far I have shrinky dinked a drunk Santa, a stoned Rudolph, and a candy cane penis. 

Santa drinking Jack and Jingle Bells

Rudolph with some green

    Watching my dinks shrink was really quite satisfying, and it gave me a really great idea. I recently had a nightmare about this professor I had throughout my M.A.T. program that I really hate. The dream itself was fuzzy, but all you need to know is that she sucks ass. I have been contemplating toilet paper rolling her house for a couple of years now. Anyway, so this monster of a professor made it her mission to ruin my life and all of my other classmates’ lives. She made me become an alcoholic too. To get back at her, I drew a picture of her stupid face with a bullet hole through her forehead and shrunk that bitch in the oven. It felt amazing. I’m considering mailing it to her. So go ahead. Shrinky dink a picture of your in-laws or your ex-boyfriend. You’ll feel like a new person when you are done. 

Before: Her big stupid face

After: A small stupid face and a Candy Cane Penis

    I will report on another hobby Monday. I’m really pumped about this next one. Kyle and I are going.........PAINTBALLING this coming Sunday (if the weather permits). Hang tight and I’ll give you a full report soon. If you are one of those people that prays, pray for me...well really, pray for Kyle. Because it’s on. 

    By the way, the pickles were pretty good. I think next time I will use a little less dill and perhaps a clove of minced garlic in each jar.

Dillicious!

Done and Done

    I can officially check pickling off my to do list. Overall, I found the process therapeutic. It offered the same kind of feeling I get when cooking or squeezing black heads from my nose. I like activities that allow my mind to wander.........way off into Lala Land where I am an incredibly talented backup dancer for Prince and things like car payments and Christmas gift shopping do not exist. I might prefer pickling over cooking. You see, after I slave over the stove and it’s time for my husband and I to sit in front of the TV to eat and ignore each other, my appetite is gone. This is probably because I use my piggy fingers as spoons to taste every ingredient. Pickling requires patience. According to the recipe I used, you need to wait at least one week to get the desired results. I can’t wait. Glee and pickles.

    First, you’ll need to check the web or find a cookbook with a pickling recipe that suits you. Some are very simple, while others require more canning equipment, time, and money. I decided on regular old dill pickles and I used the pickling methods from Better Homes:  You Can Can.

     I got everything I needed at Walmart. I purchased almost 4 lbs of small cucumbers, a big jug of white vinegar, pickling salt (or you can use kosher salt), fresh dill, a twelve pack of pint jars, and a kit by the Ball Jar Company that had a canning rack lifter ($10 for the kit). 

   My recipe instructed me to bring 3 cups water, 3 cups white vinegar, 1/4 c of pickling salt, and 1/4 c sugar to a boil. In the meantime, I sterilized my jars and lids with hot soapy water and left them to soak in hot water in the sink until it was time to can (I plugged up one side of the sink and filled it with hot water).

    Next, I cut the washed cucumbers...ends off and then split in half. HOWEVER, make sure your cucumber spears are not too tall for the jars. And don’t cut your finger off.

That's really blood.

    There needs to be a 1/2 inch of headspace between the cucumbers and the jar lid. Then, I put 2-3 sprigs of dill in each jar (I filled up six pint jars) and stuffed each jar with as many cucumber spears as possible. Then, I ladled the hot vinegar mixture into the jars over the cucumbers, also leaving a 1/2 inch headspace. I twisted on the lids and kept the filled jars warm by placing them back in the hot water (sink). 

    The Boll Jar canning rack lifter will allow you to process three jars at a time. Insert the canning rack lifter into a BIG pot. Place three filled jars into the canning rack. Fill the pot with water (one inch above the jars). Boil jars for ten minutes. This gets the lids on really tight. When you’re done boiling, be sure to use pot holders to lift the canning rack out of the pot AND when you’re removing the piping hot jars from the canning rack lifter (duh). Place the hot jars on a towel on the counter. Then, do the same thing to the other three jars. You know you did it right if you press on the center of the lids with your fingertip and it DOES NOT make a clickity-poppy sound. 

    Let the jars cool for 12-24 hours. Refrigerate for a week and then give them as gifts. You might even want to right a little message or draw an inappropriate cartoon on the lid.  Passive aggressive bosses and most animals love pickled veggies. And guess what? You spent maybe 30 bucks and most of your purchases can be used again and again and again. I’ll let you know how awesome they taste next week.

FUN FACTS:

*North Americans prefer pickles with warts. Europeans prefer wartless pickles (snobs).

*Good pickles have an audible crunch at 10 paces.

*Pickles are fat free and low in calories. An average-size dill contains only 15 calories and an ounce of pickled peppers provides only 7 calories.

And....this redneck loves pickles:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VRrxdOCkezw

Quite the Pickle

   I made a list of all the hobbies that I have always wanted to attempt. This list is a good size, including simple activities and then some that are a bit more challenging. I will not be experimenting with the following hobbies:

                                                      Origami- because it's wastes paper.

                                      Frisbee Golf- because I suck at it, and I don't like to fail.

                                       Beauty Pageants- because I'm not ready to sell my soul.

                                 Model Airplanes- because I'm not a 58 year old man that hates his wife.

    I took my hobby list, closed my eyes, and pointed to one. I'm glad I got the one I did because I wanted to ease myself into this process of trying new things. And I chose.....pickling?

   PICKLING! Why pickling, Anna (those uninterested in learning about the adventures of pickling should stop reading here)? Well, my love affair with pickles began at my Granny's house. She always had the most AMAZING pickles. BIG. CRUNCHY. JUICY. SALT.  Not sure what brand they were, maybe Claussen. Either way they were damn good. I'm really lucky because Kyle, this guy I'm married to, doesn't like pickles. So more pickles for me. Off to the store to get pickling gear.

Here I Go

    Enough is enough. After a few months of couching, Facebooking, sleeping twelve hours a day, and wearing the same pajama uniform, I've decided to turn over a new leaf and get a life. Unemployment isn't all that it's cracked up to be, and moving to a small town in Alabama isn't as glamorous as I had hoped. So what is a girl to do? Feel sorry for herself? No....not me.

    Back at home (Fayetteville, Arkansas), a lot of people I know do things outside of work for fun. None of which involve getting wine drunk, watching The Real Housewives of Atlanta, or reading trashy magazines alone on a Friday night. Weird, I know. Some bike, run for countless miles, organize weekly girls' game nights, play in a band...things of that nature. And they do these things every week! Because they want to! And you can tell that they are better people because of it. They have an outlet. They have a HOBBY.

    I've never really had a hobby in my adult life. Sure I like to read and cook every now and then, but most of my interests are fleeting. Like scrap booking. That didn't last long (for obvious reasons). When I was a kid I was involved in dance and all sorts of sports. But as I grew older, LIFE got in the way. Whether it be a new relationship, a blubbering and intoxicated friend locked out of her car, finding the best way to cheat on a history exam, or thinking up a good excuse as to why I can't come into work, something always seemed to interfere with me taking time to do something GOOD for myself. And I've heard from lots of seemingly normal people that some sort of an outlet is crucial to being, well....happy.

    This blog is dedicated to finding that outlet, to finding a hobby that I love. And the crazy part is that I truly enjoy trying new things. I've always wanted to learn karate, run a half marathon, or take ballroom dancing classes. I've just been....scared. Isn't that stupid? I'm guessing there are others that may feel the same way, so I'm doing this blog for those people too. This is for the insecure alcoholics with more pets than friends that find themselves playing Scrabble with a robot on Pogo.com at the 3 am.

    So this is how I would like my blog to work........

    Each week or so I will try a new hobby that has always interested me. Every couple of days I will report to the readers (if there are any...shooting for at least 5) about my experiences. I'll include my resources, photos, video clips, and any instructions that may be useful to others wanting to dabble in the hobby of the week. If I don't return your phone calls or emails in a timely manner I am sorry because......I HAVE A LIFE.