Carol Snow's Blog

A number of people* have brought it to my attention that despite my claim, when I launched my blog back in . . . when was that? Summer sometime? Well, anyway — despite THE VOW** I made to blog four times a week, in the last couple of months I haven't blogged four times a week. Or at all.

Here's the thing. In addition to my awesome career as a blogger (does it count as a career if you don't get paid?) I actually write, you know. Books. I have a manuscript due March 1, and if I had any idea what today's date is, I'd tell you how many days that gives me to finish it. I know it's not a lot.

However. Valentine's Day is coming up. Woo hoo! So before I get back to working on my manuscript*** I wanted to share my recipe for Heart-Shaped Meatloaf. In truth, this is not really "my" recipe; I got if from Cooking Light. However, the heart-shaped bit is my own special twist. (My friends tell me I'm very creative.)

     *My sister

     **That's me trying to get web hits off of people wanting to see that movie about the girl with amnesia.

***Or watching "The Millionaire Matchmaker" with my daughter. (Judge not: it provides countless "learning opportunities")

Heart-Shaped Meatloaf

3/4 cup ketchup, divided
1/2 cup quick-cooking oats
1/4 cup minced fresh onion
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
2 large egg whites, lightly beaten
1 1/2 pounds ground round
Cooking spray

Combine 1/2 cup ketchup, oats, onion, parsley, brown sugar, salt, pepper and egg whites in a large bowl. Add meat; stir just until blended. Shape meat mixture into a heart on a broiler pan coated with cooking spray. Brush 1/4 cup ketchup over meat loaf. Bake at 350° for 1 hour and 10 minutes. Let stand 10 minutes before slicing.

 

 

 

Once my husband and I were at a Mexican restaurant with an English friend. Unfamiliar with several of the menu items, he asked the waitress what "fah-gee-tahs" were. Isn't it cute how he mispronounced "fajitas"? We all thought so! Once we finished laughing, our friends told us how he'd amused Californians by mentioning La Joe-La, an affluent seaside community on the north side of San Diego. Of course we laughed at that as well.

Free tip for Brits, Aussies, Scots, Irish: In America, you can say pretty much anything and we will think you are either clever or adorable or both. (Sorry, Canadians: your accents are too close to ours.) Sadly, the reverse does not apply, plus you get points taken away if you sound like you're from the New York area.

So first, a pronunciation guide and definition: La Jolla, pronounced "La Hoya," is a Spanish phrase that means "you can't possibly afford to live here." But it sure is pretty.

Over the Thanksgiving break, my family headed down to La Jolla to visit UC San Diego and The University of San Diego, which I'll write about some other Tuesday. (I don't travel much; I need to drag things out.) We stayed a block from the beach, in a really, really nice hotel within easy walking distance to some really, really nice stores and some really, really nice restaurants. My mother bought some lemon-infused olive oil at an olive oil store. Because La Jolla is the kind of place that has olive oil stores.

Children's Pool (but the only children here are of the seal variety)

Even better, La Jolla has the Pacific Ocean: miles and miles of spectacular coastline. It's got sea caves, surfers, and seals. Lots and lots of seals. Seals caused quite a bit of controversy a few years back when they took over a beach originally intended for children. La Jolla is the kind of place where seals count as a problem.

They say a picture paints a thousand words. They also say that when you start using cliches like "a picture paints a thousand words," it's time to upload some photos and wrap up your blog post. So, enjoy these shots of La Jolla, which is a nice place to visit even if you, like me, can't afford to live there.

"No Alcohol. No Smoking." Good luck with that.

You know what this is? Me neither.

 

 

I'd take up bridge if I could play here.

With the exception of The Hallelujah Chorus and the Charlie Brown soundtrack, I loathe Christmas music, partly because most songs are like Katy Perry tunes — fun and catchy the first ten times you hear them, fine for the next twenty to one hundred plays, and irritating thereafter — but mostly because they function as an omnipresent reminder of ALL OF THE THINGS WE NEED TO ACCOMPLISH BY DECEMBER 25, most of which involve spending money on stuff no one really wants.

So. I won't use this space to promote a Christmas song because we've all heard too many of them already. Instead, here's a fun and heartfelt Chanukah song with a homespun video that I love — it's like a digital equivalent of the shoe box dioramas we used to make in the days before Michael's craft stores. Happy Chanukah . . . merry almost-Christmas . . . and a joyous new year to all.

"Chanukah in West Virginia," Scott Simons

 

I don't really like to make fun of something from the Uncommon Goods catalog because it supports independent artists, but . . . I will.

First, though, let me say that Uncommon Goods has some really cool, unique, reasonably priced stuff. Like . . . recycled animal accessories! Which aren't, as the name implies, made from recycled animals (ew) but from from "yarn spun from the leftover materials from apparel and upholstery factories that would have been discarded." Which doesn't sound like recycling to me, but whatever. They're cute! (Also, apparently sold out, but there's always next year.)

They also have whimsical items like Gummy Bear Lights . . .

. . . and unique jewelry like a Nest Egg necklace that would be perfect for someone who loves birds, who just had a baby, or maybe even for someone just wrote an egg-themed novel. Hey, it could happen.

Finally, for the passionate defenders of the Nosy (which, forgive me, but I think I still think is stupid), they have a wooden eyeglass holder.

But that's not the best worst gift Uncommon Goods offers. Oh no, if you've got to buy something for someone you don't like, the wine hourglass wins, hands down. From the catalog:

The Sands of Wine

Drink in the moment with these captivating wine glasses, designed with a working hourglass that celebrates the beauty of time spent toasting food, wine and friendship. Flip a glass to spark its timer–and the table conversation–over vibrant streams of sand swishing and crashing for ten minutes a side.

"But wait!" some of you say (hopefully to yourselves). "They're kind of cool looking!" And they are, sort of. If you like that kind of thing. Or maybe you say, "What a fun conversation piece!" Or: "It's like a classy drinking game — you've got ten minutes to finish your wine before the hourglass runs out."

Exactly! You flip the hourglass to "spark its timer," then flip it back so you can pour the wine. You finish the wine in under ten minutes (go you!!) and . . . why yes, thanks, I'd love another glass or Merlot. But then — whoops! You forgot to reset the hourglass. So you flip the glass back over, but instead of sparking the timer, you launch the wine over yourself, the couch, the carpet, and your best friend's boyfriend who you've never really liked.

So: you might not want to put these on your Christmas gift. But if your best friend is looking for ideas for her boyfriend? You know just the thing.

More Best Worst Holiday Gifts

Forever Lazy

Nosy

Zapi Toothbrush Sanitizer

A Pig

A signed book makes a great holiday gift. Click here for free, personalized bookplates.

 

 

 

 12 Days Till Christmas

With thanks to my friend Jill Smolinski, today I present Forever Lazy, an adult fleece onesie for those who are ready to move on from the Snuggie to something just a little less dignified. It's a bit of a challenge to find unintended humor from something that touts "zippered hatches in front and back, for great escapes when duty calls," because surely the manufacturers know they are being funny, right? Right?

Fellow Americans, consider this: as a nation of immigrants, our ancestors left everything behind to come to a strange and sometimes hostile world. Why? Because they hoped to give their children and grandchildren a better life. So, yeah — they'd be psyched to know that we've turned into a nation of 24-hour jammie wearers. Thanks for the better life, guys!!!

More Best Worst Holiday Gifts:

Nosy

Zapi Toothbrush Sanitizer

A Pig

A signed book makes a great holiday gift. Click here for free, personalized bookplates.

 

 

 

18 Days Till Christmas

Every couple of years, my husband and I get so disgusted with the commercialism of Christmas that we threaten to give everyone a goat. No, not an a real goat — at least to the gift recipient — but a donation of a goat in their name through Heifer International, which does amazing work building communities in developing nations. From their website:

With gifts of livestock and training, we help families improve their nutrition and generate income in sustainable ways. We refer to the animals as "living loans" because in exchange for their livestock and training, families agree to give one of its animal's offspring to another family in need. It's called Passing on the Gift – a cornerstone of our mission that creates an ever-expanding network of hope and peace.

Cool, huh? Well, maybe not to a kid who was hoping for a Wii, but for a business associate drowning in Harry & David pears — you can do good and look good at the same time. (So what if your business associate thinks you're a liberal fruitcake. THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT.)

Heifer doesn't stop at goats. They have sheep, llamas, rabbits, heifers (of course) — even honeybees. They also have pigs.

A friend who relies on Heifer for all of her holiday gift giving confessed that she saves the pigs for, well, the pigs. In a perfect world, no one would give gifts to people they don't like, but business is business (or so people tell me), and necessary gestures are necessary gestures. So how do you do good and look good while leaving someone with the creepy suspicion that they've been dissed? You got it, Babe.

More Best Worst Holiday Gifts:

Nosy

Zapi Toothbrush Sanitizer

 

A signed book makes a great holiday gift. Click here for free, personalized bookplates.

 

21 Days Till Christmas

Reader, I was feeling discouraged. I perused the Frontgate catalog: no ridiculous gifts. I checked out L.L. Bean: nothing non-essential for a self-sufficient, dog-loving, fashion-averse New Englander (none of which I am — but a girl can dream).

I'd just about given up when I just finished reading a back issue of the New York Times Sunday Magazine, and bingo! I fell across an ad for a Violight Zapi Toothbrush Sanitizer.

What? You don't own a toothbrush sanitizer???? Oh. My. God. I can't believe you've gone all these years without the ninjas. No, wait: I can't believe you've survived with all those nasty dirty ickies on your toothbrush. You should be dead by now.

Here's the ad copy from the Times:

A Spa For Your Toothbrush. Give the gift of health this holiday season. Violight's Zapi Toothbrush Sanitzers keep your toothbrush germ free. UV light eliminates 99% of strep, staph, e.coli, salmonella, listeria, and even H1N1.

Wait — woah. H1N1? Presumably, if you've got swine flu on your toothbrush, it's because . . . you've got swine flu. When did toothbrushes become communal property? Unless you've got a full-body sanitizer, zapping your toothbrush with UV rays won't accomplish much. As for the other stuff, here's my advice: don't store your toothbrush in the toilet.

You're welcome.

I applaud personal hygiene. And I'm all over the Purell thing. What's more, having contracted the chicken pox at the age of 28, when I  not only didn't have children, I didn't even know any children, I appreciate that supermarkets supply antibiotic wipes so you don't pick up stray viruses from the carts. But unless you've got some recurring oral infections, sanitizing your toothbrush seems a little silly.

Also, what kind of a gift is this? "The family couldn't help noticing your breath issues (though we've tried). Here's to a sweet smelling 2012!"

Then again, while I have neither the time nor the inclination to validate Violight's claims (hey, I'm a novelist, not a journalist), others have given it a big thumbs up. According to the Violight website, esteemed medical professionals including Oprah and — wait for it – Rachel Ray!!!! have endorsed this product. So you can make the call for yourself.

As for me, if I'm looking for a way to keep my toothbrush clean — or at least cleanish — I'll opt for something like this:

 

More Best Worst Holiday Gifts:

Nosy

22 days till Christmas

Guess what I'm getting everyone for Christmas this year??

I have no idea. And I should probably start working on that. But as I browse through the piles of catalogs that cram my mailbox, I'm stuck by how many things I won't be purchasing for my nearest and dearest. A lot of the stuff being hawked is merely unnecessary. And that's no fun. But some of it? Is so absurd, silly, and/or tacky that it deserves special attention. And so, for the next few weeks, I'll be plunging into the no-buy zone. Starting with . . . Nosy.

I really like the idea of The Container Store. Instead of selling regular old stuff, they sell stuff to hold your stuff. Awesome. Chronically disorganized, I gravitate toward any product line that promises (if disingenuously), so compensate for my personal failings.

However. Does anyone really need a small silver alien with a large nose to hold glasses? Really? Someone at the Container Store thinks so. From the website:

If you've ever taken off your glasses only to misplace them moments later, Nosy is for you! Use him to hold your reading glasses or sunglasses – he's always happy to lend a "nose". Glasses are kept elevated and protected from scratches. This is a must for your bespectacled loved ones this holiday season!

First: how do we know Nosy is a he?

Second: "A must for your bespectacled loved ones?" Really? Call me old fashioned, but if you're trying to think of a present for someone "bespectacled" (try saying that; it's hard) . . . you know, something that can hold their glasses when they're not being worn . . . something that can prevent scratches . . . you might want to try something like this:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A signed book makes a great holiday gift. Click here for free, personalized bookplates.

 

 

What? You didn't spend Thanksgiving in a tent outside of Best Buy? You didn't trample small children inside your local Wal-Mart? You haven't stocked up on DVD players and iPods for your family and friends? In fact, you haven't even started your holiday shopping?

It's okay! Who wants an iPod when they can have a signed book? (On second thought, don't answer that question.)

Special for the holidays, I am offering free, personalized bookplates. In case you don't know what an author bookplate is (I didn't until people started asking me for them) they're custom stickers that I sign and that you stick on the inside cover of one of my books. And just like that, for seven to ten dollars, you've got a signed, personalized book to give to your mother, sister, child's teacher, old friend who won't take the hint that it's time to stop exchanging gifts . . . pretty much anyone on your list. You? Are awesome.

For What Came First (or any of my other books for adults) I've got the design on the left, and for your favorite (or second or third favorite) teen or tween, who might enjoy Switch or Snap, I've got the one on the right:

All you have to do? Send me a message using the contact form (or email me at carolsnow@roadrunner.com). Put "Bookplate" in the subject line and let me know:

Your name & address
Which bookplate(s) — teen or adult — you would like (and how many)
What, if anything, you would like the bookplate(s) to read. (If you don't specify, I'll just sign my name.)

Giving an e-book? Not a problem! (Well, at least not for me . . . you'll have to mess around with gift cards and emails and such.) I'm happy to send a signed, personalized postcard instead — so at least you'll have something to wrap.

Best wishes for a joyful, safe and sane holiday season.

Sorry -- cat not included.

 

 

 

 

I am cheating here. Big time. Because instead of writing about a place, I'm writing about something I found online while trying to get information on a place. Follow?

My daughter is a junior in high school, which means that for the next year I'll be filling up "If It's Tuesday" with a whole bunch of college visits. (I started last summer with The Rhode Island School of Design.) We've got a trip to San Diego coming up, where we'll be checking out UCSD (The University of California at San Diego) and the University of San Diego — neither of which should be confused with San Diego State University. Confused? Me too.

Since we'll be staying in La Jolla, where UCSD is located, I'm hoping to have dinner one night near the university to get a feel for the college community. To track down any retail/dining district near campus, I Googled "UCSD shopping." That's when I came up with this College Confidential parent post, which is so hilarious that I had to share.

Okay, everyone: how do YOUR children cope with stress?

From College Confidential (link through to read replies):

Hi everyone,

My daughter is currently in the process of deciding between schools. It is LOADS of fun. Anyways, this may seem trivial, but she is an avid shopper (apparently this is how she copes with stress), so what are some nearby shopping locations and is transportation to such areas provided? We're in the midst of scoping out shopping areas for all the schools. We were there for admit day (btw she's a human biology major) and really only saw the Price Center. Are there any other areas nearby? I ask because we explored downtown La Jolla and San Diego and really couldnt find any great spots. (If you'd like to know I can say that she spends the majority of her time at Nordstrom with quite a few charges to Urban Outfitters, Forever 21, A&F, Macy's, and other fairly typical stuff). Any help would be greatly appreciated.

Also, we're from Norcal, so she will DEFINITELY NOT be driving

 – "williebo"

How can a kid who spends "the majority of her time at Nordstrom" even get into UCSD?

We, as a society, are doomed.