Showing posts with label mysterious brown smears. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mysterious brown smears. Show all posts

Bean Day 

Friday, October 22, 2010 - Posted by Amanda Bast
Today I had the absolute pleasure of taking care of my one and only (until April!) super awesome, beautiful, hilarious baby niece, The Bean.

Our day started at around 7:00am. She ate some prunes (mistake!) and peaches, played, pooped, giggled and then had a nap at 9:00am. After sleeping for two hours, we took a trip to my new place of employment (!) to drop off some more documents. This new place of employment which shall not be named due to confidentiality and such is under renovations and therefore all elevators are not working. We had to go through two sets of sliding doors, around the corner, up two flights of stairs, through the cafeteria and down the hall to HR where we arrived out of breath but still looking oh so cute.

First thing I learned today: BABIES ARE HEAVY. Also, I need to start working out.

The secretary thought Bean was my child. I corrected her, but she told me that I look like a "good Mommy". So is this because my hair was a mess? Or was I wearing mom jeans? Or did I just look exhausted? DO I LOOK FRUMPY?

Second thing I learned today: Other people think this kid looks like me, too.

We went home, she ate lunch, pooped, harassed the dog, cried because I wouldn't let her harass the dog, then went to have a nap. I watched cooking shows.

Third thing I learned today: I could sit for hours and watch people cook. I get sucked in really quickly. The house could be on fire and I would still be glued to the TV anxious to see if that man's beef wellington turned out.

So remember how I said earlier that prunes were a mistake? Yep. Let's just say...she had been busy, and I had a rather big mess to clean up. I wasn't grossed out? I shrugged and thanked her for the present? Two summers plus a few months at daycare have desensitized me to the grossness (but not necessarily the smell. That is never ok). The biggest challenge was trying to figure out where to put her after she was partly cleaned while I filled the bathtub (yes, that bad). I set her on the bathroom floor where she clapped and babbled.

Fourth thing I learned today: Babies pee when they aren't wearing diapers. And they think it's especially funny to do so on the bathroom floor.

After unplanned bathtime, we went to the dollar store to pick up a candle for her birthday cake. The dollar store was busy.

Fifth thing I learned today: Old people don't think I look old enough to be responsible for a child. They will flat out do an elevator look, scoff and shake their heads. Seriously.

We arrived at Grammie's exhausted but still smiling. Bean and Sassie (the dog) played together (Bean would steal a toy, Sassie would drop the one in her mouth and take the one Bean had, then Bean would steal another...and you get the idea) while I laid on the kitchen floor.

Sixth thing I learned today: Momsie tells me that when you have a tiny baby, as it grows gradually, you get used to carrying it and it doesn't feel so heavy. "They don't come out weighing 20 pounds!"

After dinner, another huge leaky dump, another bath, more giggles, lots of cuddles, a story and a bottle, it was bedtime.

Seventh and biggest thing I learned today: I want a baby. Several, actually. Except I don't want them for a while yet and I would also like someone in my life to raise said babies with. Babies and children in general are more work than I can even comprehend, and right now I couldn't do it. I am nowhere near ready. Today, although brief and not representative in every way, gave me perspective and raised more questions. How do you juggle more than one? Where do you find time to do anything other than be a mom? Are all babies this cute? How can I ensure my baby is this cute? Why don't mothers have giant biceps? Why is no one immune to that SMELL? How oh HOW do single mothers cope? I don't know. I just don't. I don't think I am meant to figure out all these things now. Right now, it's my job to be a wonderful aunt and by golly, I take this job seriously.

To conclude, I will say the following: I love you Mom. I love you Heather. You are both amazing mothers. Also, can we stop feeding her prunes? Please?

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The Great Cake Experiment: Ganache'd 

Monday, October 11, 2010 - Posted by Amanda Bast
Today is the day the poo pucks get decorated and hopefully turned into something that doesn't resemble a poo puck. I took pictures of what I did today:


Here are the poo pucks shaved down to make them flat and cut in half. You might notice that the insides of the poo pucks are GOOEY. I blame the faulty toothpick-in-centre-to-check-doneness method. Gluten free baking is also iffy most of the time. I blame that (because it couldn't possibly be due to my impatience).
I then brushed each layer with the syrup (the orange stuff). Then used this ganache:


 I spread ganache in between each layer and stacked those bad boys. I failed to take a picture of this step, but here is the cake with ganache on the outsides and top, just before "hot-knifing":

 The cake is has now been "hot-knifed" with a hot knife (ooooOOOoOooh, now it makes sense!):

 Cleaned up and put on a cake board, ready for fondant to be added later tonight!

Things I've learned:
1. Ganaching a cake is ridiculous amounts of fun. The cake starts off looking lumpy and gross, but the ganache fills in the cracks like putty, thus making the poo pucks look straight and perfect.
2. Anything smothered in chocolate and cream looks more appetizing.
3. Ganaching is messy but worth it. Going to be a lovely smooth surface for fondant!
4. The new countertops and backsplash look pretty with this cake!
5. Ganache is already a ridiculous word, yet saying it over and over only makes it more ridiculous

This is getting increasingly more and more fun. Am I delusional?

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Define Success? 

Monday, August 2, 2010 - Posted by Amanda Bast
Awhile ago Thomas and I bought a horrible-on-purpose birthday cake for our friend Tom Brown. I then sent the picture into Cake Wrecks. And look at this: 1000+ comments generated because we're cheap.

I feel as though I have accomplished something even though I really haven't. Kind of like the time at the university with the bathrooms and the aprons. I can just picture my next job interview:

"So, tell us about some of your proudest accomplishments to date."

"Well, one time I sent and email and now people at Subway don't wear their aprons while they pee. Oh! And I sent a picture of something stupid that I bought into a website and they posted it."

Yes my friends, I'm totally landing that job. Shabam.

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Weird Crap That Freaks Amanda Out - Volume 1 

Monday, February 15, 2010 - Posted by Amanda Bast
In today's installment of Weird Crap That Freaks Amanda Out (WCTFAO), we will be discussing Thrift and/or Antique Stores. This may seem a little odd, but I would like to remind you that this is called Weird Crap That Freaks Amanda Out, not Stuff That Freaks Out Quite A Few People, Not Just Amanda. So excuse me for being weird.

You might be saying, but Amanda, I know you love Value Village, and that is most definitely a thrift store. And you are right, I do love the Village of Value. For the most part. I must explain what kinds of stores I mean. These stores are usually found in bizarre and mostly sketchy locations (side roads in Bruce County or on Lancaster St in Kitchener). They are most likely tiny and very dusty. They are over crowed with things claiming to be antiques, but are nothing more than old dishes that you could find in your grandparents' basements. I really love old dishes, and I am thrilled that I inherited my grandmother's full set of fine china, and some of her crystal (lead! whoo!), but something just feels "off" to me if there are incomplete sets of numerous styles of dishes all mashed into one incoherent display. There is no continuity, just a mish mash of old crap that no one wants any more. Where are the rest of the dishes in the set? Did you break them all? Do you have a personal vendetta against that one lonely bread and butter plate? What did it ever do to you? For this reason, the dish and old-crap-that-no-one-wants-anymore section of Value Village freaks me out.

Stores that really freak me out usually have toys. Not new, fun toys, but old half-dead creepy toys. Like dolls with stained dresses and hair that was chopped off by some scissor happy four year old. They are those dolls that when you lay them down, their eyes close, but since they are so old, only one eye closes and the other one stays partially open just to look and you and be creepy. Honestly, who wants to buy an old doll that some strange child drooled on? To me it just feels like left over happy memories. No one wants the doll anymore. What happened to the original owner? Why don't they want their precious dolly anymore? And WHY oh WHY do they feel they need to try and sell it to an old person with an affinity for half-rotten old toys? Creepy, right?

Next, these stores have a distinctive odour to them. That old musty, moth ball-y gross smell. What IS that smell, and how come it all thrift/antique stores smell the same? I would like to know the answer to this question. Actually, maybe it would just be better to leave it a mystery. Maybe I'm weird, or maybe I'm just sensitive to smell.

Another characteristic of these stores is bound to make me look completely insane. This is something that I can't describe entirely, but I will try. When I walk in, I feel a little claustrophobic. I feel this eerie sense of...unfinished business? and it makes me want to pull up my shirt or scarf to cover the back of my exposed neck. I keep by hands folded tightly and drawn into my chest until the ordeal is over. Maybe it's because of all of the dirt, maybe it's because it's full of other peoples stuff...left over and discarded. Creepy, I tell you. Mighty creepy.

I love old things, I really do. I also love stumbling across something really unique and unusual. Much to my dismay, this event is likely to occur in some of these creepy stores. So for the most part, I think I can bear the creep-factor. That about concludes the first volume of WCTFAO. I realize that I may appear to be completely deranged, but I'm ok with that. Leave a comment if you feel the same. I hope you'll still be my friend.

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aaaand we're back! 

Wednesday, July 1, 2009 - Posted by Amanda Bast
I am back in action after my fairly long blogging hiatus. Things were really bad, but now they're well on their way to being really good again. Oh life.

Awhile back I blogged about an experience with a mysterious brown smear. I never thought I would use that tag again, but then I started working at a daycare. Here is a list of things on which I have discovered mysterious brown smears:
  • beds
  • kitchen centre
  • bouncy balls
  • lunch table
  • floor
  • blankets
  • bedsheets
  • shoes
  • legs
  • bums
  • backs
  • shirts
Granted, there isn't anything mysterious about these brown smears, but I like to keep calling them that in order to maintain my sanity and/or my lunch.

Enriching your blogging experience one poo story at a time,

Mandie

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hygienic revolution 

Wednesday, November 12, 2008 - Posted by Amanda Bast
This morning I sent an email to someone in charge:

"To whom it may concern,

I am a fourth year student here at the university, and I've noticed something over the past few years I thought I would share in light of the ecoli outbreak. When I have paid a visit to the UC washrooms, I've noticed (on more than one occasion) staff from hospitality services wearing an apron when they enter a stall. These are the same aprons they wear when preparing food.

I'm not saying that wearing an apron in the washroom is a cause of ecoli contamination, not by any means. Guelph hospitality services has an excellent reputation, but isn't it important to look at the little things like this? I do realize that it is impossible to be 100% sanitary at all times, but I really think this is a simple issue that needs to be addressed. As a student, it is important to know that hospitality services have our best interest in mind.

Thank you for your time and consideration."

This afternoon I got two responses. The first:

"Thank you for your email. We will follow this up. David B."

The second:

"Hi my name is Chris and I am the manager of C6 foodcourt. I thank you very much for your observations regarding aprons being worn into the public washrooms and I agree with you. Today we have informed all staff to make sure when using the washroom they are to remove their aprons before washroom use. We are making every effort to increase awareness among our staff regarding food safety and we thank you for bringing this matter to our attention. Please do not hesitate to approach me directly in C6 if you have any further concerns. Sincerely, Chris"

The world is a little cleaner thanks to me, and this feels like an accomplishment. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go wash my hands.

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the driver on the bus says.... 

Thursday, December 13, 2007 - Posted by Amanda Bast
Yesterday my lovely mother and I went to see Hairspray at Centre in the Square. It was a lovely show, the cast was amazing, and the set was incredible. Probably one of the best I've ever seen**.

Mom and I took the geriatric route, and went to the matinee. Since downtown Kitchener has next to no parking, CitS offers a shuttle service from the Aud to the CitS. We hopped on the city bus, and remarked at how uncomfortable the seats are.

I looked out the window, and noticed a mysterious brown smear on the side of the bus. I pointed out the mysterious brown smear to Mom, and she informed me she wished she had hand sanitizer with her, because just looking at the mysterious brown smear made her feel contaminated with germs. We speculated at what the mysterious brown smear could be from, and we decided to tell ourselves it was chocolate, because it was much more pleasant to think about than any of the alternatives. I said that I didn't want to find out for sure what it was, and that I was okay with the mysterious brown smear staying a mystery.

She then said that she almost pukes when she sees mysterious brown smears in restaurants. I said I agree, but at least there is a greater chance of the mysterious brown smear being from food, since it is in a restaurant. Again, we speculated that a mysterious brown smear should stay a mystery, because neither one of us were willing to do whatever we would need to do to solve the mystery of a mysterious brown smear. Mom asked me if the mysterious brown smear was blog worthy and I said, yes, I think it is blog worthy. Thanks for the idea. I'm sort of glad I saw the mysterious brown smear on the bus, because I always need something to blog about.

On the bus on the way back, there were no mysterious brown smears - at least none that we could see - but there were crabby old ladies. The bus was rather packed, so there were a bunch of people standing up. One crabby middle aged woman stood next to me, but decided it would be a good idea to press her bum against my shoulder. It was completely unnecessary bum press-age, but no, crabby middle aged woman insisted. By the end of the not short enough bus ride, I was wishing for the mysterious brown smear as opposed to middle aged woman bum press-age. At least if I encountered any smears after the bus ride with the mysterious brown smear, they would still be a mystery.

The moral of the story is, be thankful for mysterious brown smears, because the alternative could be worse.



**The only other show to top it was the time we went to see Mamma Mia in Toronto. Dad bought front row seats by accident ("No wonder they were so expensive!"), and one of the keyboardists offered us a mint.

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