Every year, I throw a Cookie Exchange. The first year, I was a bit stringent about the rules- I required recipes, cookie vetting, and well, was a general cookie nazi about the whole thing. Over the years, I’ve mellowed out a bit, and this the 9th year, I’ve basically just shrugged my shoulders and said “if it’s going to happen, it will.” I’ve made some incredible cookies over the years, and some epic Pinterest fails. Let us never forget the tragic failure of the “melted snowman cookies” of 2011.
This year, I was inspired. I had a theme. I had a plan. I had a cookie recipe and a cookie cutter. I was going to be unstoppable.
The goal: Create amazing Leg Lamp Cookies with a simple butter cookie recipe.
The result: Not so amazing Leg Lamp Cookies with a damn delicious butter cookie recipe.
The issue: Said Leg Lamp Cookie Cutter is plastic. It’s a pain in the ass. I got a LOT of broken stumps of cookies, because the oh-so-delicious butter cookie recipe repeatedly got stuck in the Leg Lamp Cookie Cutter.
The dogs ate a lot of the broken cookies.
That being said, here is the recipe and the end results…
GRAMMY’S BUTTER COOKIE RECIPE
2 cups flour
2 sticks butter (softened)
1/2 cup confectioners sugar
Combine all ingredients by hand; and then chill dough for 30 minutes.
Roll out dough and cut with cookie cutters or cookie press.
Bake for 15 minutes at 350 degrees on an ungreased cookie sheet. Bake until JUST lightly browned on edges.
Here is the problem: the cookie cutter is plastic. Pain in the butt plastic. If you have a plastic cookie cutter, I STRONGLY recommend dipping it into flour before each cut.
Quite a few broken legs. As the classic movie would suggest, these were FRA-GILE… Yes, the Italian girl made them.
Oh, I do love me a good Christmas song with 80’s men singing with exceptionally large hair. And mullets. God, I love Bono and a mullet.
Bad blogger lately. Been maintaining the business of surviving lately. Nothing spectacular to report, but I’ll give you the highlights of late:
1. Ezra the Anti-Elf on the Shelf and I put together a rather spectacular half-assed attempt at a Gingerbread House yesterday. By the time we came around to the front of the house, I got bored, Ezra was drunk on Sugar, and a nap was needed.
Simple Gingerbread House
I’m preparing for the 9th annual Christmas Cookie exchange. My heart is half into it this year. Money is tight, so I can do the things I normally love to do. Oh well, cookies are cookies. Women are women and well, it will happen with or without the crazy little extras I like to do. Today is “bake the cookie” day. Tomorrow is “Decorate the cookie Day.” Saturday is “MAKE NEW COOKIE IF THESE SUCK DAY.” Thanks to a darling friend however, I have a good amount of booze.
Cookie Exchange Booze
I thought about working out yesterday. I did. I really did. Instead, I watched my neighbor sit on his roof.
I started working on three new projects this week. Topics include craft cocktails, branding for small business and wait for it… vending machines.
The days, they are, if nothing, diverse.
12 Days Until Christmas Eve.
12 Days Left to Griswald my exterior. The interior is quite cracked out.
12 Days Left to make my presents.
12 Days Left to convince Santa that I really, truly would enjoy a man for Christmas. And the day after Christmas. And So on.
But seriously, what department do I need to communicate to Santa that I would like a real live man for Christmas? A fully employed man. A man with his stuff together. A non-Peter pan type man.
That’s what I want for Christmas. And a Red Rider BB Gun.
This originally started out as a Facebook post, but I realized, I had more to say than that should be posted on Facebook.
Today is the day where I’m going to get it done.
I’m going to find a new person to talk to about my side business. I’m going to write two new proposals for the business that kinda keeps the lights on. I’m going to finish the Missing Link. (Sidenote, sometimes volunteer work just becomes work.) As you were.
I”m going to the doctor for the most exciting visit ever. Not really, but I’m excited. It’s been two years. Ok, 2 years, one week and a day, but who is counting? The visit that I’m doing today is the visit two years ago that allowed us to catch that damn cancer. Damn cancer. That should be the name of the disease. An add on. Damn Cervical Cancer. Damn Breast Cancer. Damn Pancreatic Cancer. Damn Skin Cancer. You get the point. Anyways, 2 years later, I’m going in and am thrilled that today is just another day. I’m a little bit older, my butt is a little bit wider, but I’m still here – which is awesome.
I had a tough week. Not going to candy coat it. It’s a scary, scary place to be right now. At the cross roads of unemployment, teetering on the brink of building your own consultancy, without any financial landing place. I’ve cried a lot in the past 10 days. Cried stupid amounts, and I think my eyes are permenently puffy. The old me would have ran to Nordstroms to buy some amazing eye cream with caffiene, the new version just sucks it up and looks like crap. What can I say, I’m a realist. But seriously though, there were a lot of ugly realizations this week. There were a lot of beautiful moments though- friends/family/strangers all touched my life in little ways this week and for that I’m thankful.
For that, I’m going to “get out of the damn bed” and brush my hair. The hair that really needs a root job. Holy crap, I’ve been blessed with a lot of sparkly hair. I’m afraid that I’m going to wake up one morning and look like Cruella DeVille.
For that, I’m going to keep on going this week. (The alternative is quite boring.)
For that, I write this blog post.
This week has possiblities.
Ezra the Elf will make an appearance. Yes, an appearance. Ezra has been busy with the Hanukkah lights this week. He will be back.
I’ll perhaps finish the never ending snow man made out of cups. (Worst idea ever.)
I’m going to walk 9 miles between now and sundown Sunday. (My expanding ass will thank me)