I Spy

[with heavy German accent]

My name? My name is Greta Schmidt. I am a 33-year-old Astronomer from Germany. I am traveling to London, England on business for four days. Of course I am not Sarah! Codename "Pineapple"? What are you talking about? I do not know any such person.

I certainly was not at the International Spy Museum in Washington, D.C. this past weekend. In fact I've never even heard of the International Spy Museum, nor have I heard of or ever participated in the hour-long interactive experience, Operation Spy, which was not totally fun except for an under-enthusiastic group, and I absolutely do not think it would be fun to go back -- because, of course, I have never been -- with a group of 8-10 friends who would be enthusiastic about playing along, hypothetically speaking.

No, I have never seen this woman before in my life. Jen B you say is her name? Codename "Pancake"? This is silly. Not only have I never seen nor heard of her, I was definitely not with her while I was not at the Spy Museum this past weekend. She looks suspicious though. Perhaps you should use the time you are wasting with me to find and interrogate her.

We didn't walk down to see the White House either, after not going to the Spy Museum without having ever met.

And then we didn't go to Georgetown for an afternoon of lunch and shopping. Oh? I'm really not excited to hear that a Paper Source is opening in Annapolis later this year. Eh. So what?

We did not go to this restaurant -- Café Bonaparte, you call it? -- and we didn't eat delicious crépes for dessert. No, the Crépe Josephine was not dark and luxurious with bananas and Nutella, not topped with vanilla ice cream, and the Crépe Suzette was not warm and citrusy -- absolutely not the thing for a long afternoon in late spring -- also not topped with vanilla ice cream. I don't even like ice cream. (Alright! Maybe a little.)

Okay, this is getting a little old. No! There is no such place as Georgetown Cupcake, that is not a line of people not standing outside of the shop that is not Georgetown Cupcake, and I most certainly did not purchase Coconut, Red Velvet, Lemon Berry and Chocolate Hazelnut cupcakes that were not fantastically delicious to give away and/or eat for breakfast Sunday morning. In fact I am not even really interested in food.

Oh, if only

Somewhere, in a parallel universe, where my life is closer to ideal, my day went something like this:

7:00 a.m. - I wake up to the sound of the birds and the gentle rustle of leaves in a spring breeze, as the sun pours its golden rays through the bedroom window, filtered by a lush canopy of green. Ever reluctant to leave the comfort of my bamboo sheets and cashmere coverlet, I stretch and push back the blankets, glad to find that the air temperature is steady at a perfect 76 degrees Fahrenheit.

7:20 a.m. - Downstairs in the kitchen, the scent of maple begins to fill the house when I throw the maple sausage links into a hot pan.

7:30 a.m. - After saying goodbye to Keith as he heads off to work, I sit down to breakfast. I start leafing through the current issue of Elle Decor and indulge in a bit of global design inspiration while I savor sausage links, locally grown strawberries (freshly picked!), a buttery, flaky croissant, and a cup of coffee with milk and sugar.

8:15 a.m. - I put the magazine down for now, clean up the breakfast dishes, and head upstairs for a quick -- but hot! -- shower.

9:00 a.m. - Showered, dressed and now fully awake, I'm ready to get to work in my studio. It's a sunny day, so I pull the curtains back wide and open up the window to let in the fresh air. I sit down at my iMac (Maxwell) and spend a few minutes checking and answering e-mail, and going over my to-do list.

9:20 a.m. - Today is a scheduled printing day, so I pull up Pandora Internet Radio -- it knows exactly what I like! -- and log into my station for some music to work by. With Jack Johnson grooving in the background, I set up my work table with inking plate, brayers, blocks, proofs, ink and paper, flip on my work light, and get a-printing.

12:00 p.m. - Having finished a very successful run of prints, it's time to break for lunch. I clean the ink off my hands, hang up my apron and head back downstairs to the kitchen. I think I'll have some of that leftover pasta dish from last night's dinner: Penne with zucchini, broccoli, red bell peppers and crumbled applewood-smoked bacon, tossed in a basil pesto. I scoop some into a bowl and grate some Parmigianno-Reggiano over it.

12:05 p.m. - Lunch in hand, I am now faced with a decision: Do I want to read some more, or do I want to check out what's on TV? I bring my book into the living room and set it next to me on the couch; if nothing's on, then I'll read. I turn on the television, flipping between HGTV, Food Network, PBS and the History Channel until I find an episode of A Cook's Tour exploring the Basque cuisine of Spain. It's mostly seafood, which I really don't like, but there are some interesting characters to watch, and I *never* mind learning about food.

1:32 p.m. - The doorbell rings -- a welcome distraction to finally pull me away from another episode of The States on History (even in Ideal Universe, I'm still a nerd). It's the handsome Scottish UPS man delivering a box chock-full of wedding invitation supplies from Paper Source. Mmmm, j'adore papier.

1:40 p.m. - A bowl of Ben & Jerry's "Sweet Cream and Cookies" is just the thing I need to get psyched up for another half-day of work.

2:00 p.m. - After unpacking my Paper Source delivery, sorting the items and checking them against the packing slip, checking the packing slip against my receipt, and updating my books, I call Jen to see if she wants to come over in a few hours for one of our fun, delicious and highly productive invitation assembly/dinner parties.

2:45 p.m. - Jen and I hang up. She'll be over around 5, once she finishes up a few things at the barn she manages and hands over the evening chores to her cowboy boyfriend -- a dead ringer for Clive Owen -- who's only too happy to take over so she can go off for an evening of repetitive, tedious fun with me. This means I'd better get busy printing out the pieces!

3:00 p.m. - My Xerox Phaser 8860 solid ink printer is humming merrily as it prints out the wedding invitations with no trouble at all. Meanwhile, I decide to sit down and write a blog post about what a lousy day my doppleganger in a parallel universe must be having because everything here is going just so darn good.

3:30 p.m. - I quickly get back on the phone to try and catch Keith at work and let him know Jen is coming over at 5. He suggests that he could make us homemade pizza for dinner (he's a pizza crust-making whiz!) -- great idea.

4:00 p.m. - The printer is still working happily, while I'm trimming the pieces that are done and starting to set up our assembly line.

4:15 p.m. - Keith arrives back home, loaded with mozzarella, mushrooms and some delicious-looking onions and bell peppers from the local farm stand. After a quick hug and kiss hello, I dash out back for some oregano, rosemary and basil. Keith comes out for a jalapeño or two and some tomatoes. I help him get everything washed up and start prepping vegetables while he gets started on the crust.

5:10 p.m. - There's a quick knock on the door, it squeaks open and a "Hellooooo!" announces that Jen's here! She walks into the kitchen and comments on the scent of bacon, Italian sausage, peppers and onions that's now wafting through the house.

5:30 p.m. - Dinner's at least an hour away, so Keith sends us giggling upstairs to get started on what we're here for in the first place. All the invitation pieces are printed by now; I finish some trimming while Jen cuts lengths of ribbon.

6:00 p.m. - Keith peeks in the studio to see what all the laughing is about, and to make sure we're really getting some work done. Despite the lively and imaginative conversation, the dynamic duo of Jen and Sarah has quickly settled into our typical, efficient work-rhythm and we've got at least a quarter of the invites fully assembled. (The bride will be so pleased.)

7:00 p.m. - All 75 invitations are assembled and ready to go, just waiting to be boxed up (in style, of course). Keith comes up to announce dinner, only to find us huddled around Maxwell fully involved in Garage Band. He smiles and shakes his head, because he knows that we are fully determined to write a hit Wizard Rock song.

7:15 p.m. - We all sit down around the table with fantastic homemade pizza a la Keith. *This* is how every day should end: delectable food shared with incredible people. A perfect life indeed.

Tout de meme

I got tagged a few weeks ago by Jen A to do a meme. The rules, which I may or may not follow one hundred percent, are as follows:

1. Write your own six-word memoir.
   
2. Post it on your blog. Include a visual illustration if you’re so inclined.
   
3. Link to the person that tagged you, and to the original post if possible so the meme-gods can track it.
   
4. Tag at least five more blogs with links.
   
5. Don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!
   

Before now, "meme" was nothing more to me than a funny-sounding word to giggle at and pronounce in a dozen different ways (it's really pronounced "mem"). As it turns out (thanks to Merriam-Webster) the word meme stems from the same root as mimesis, which is a term I totally understand, thanks to study in Aesthetics and art criticism! But the blogger-appropriated term, meme, should not be confused with the original term used to describe the human behavior of passing on cultural activity; nor should it be confused with the French word for "same," which is a keystone element of the expression, plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose -- one which I will now aim to drop into casual conversation as often as possible to sound, you know, Frenchier.

In fact, I'm not exactly sure how "meme" actually applies to this activity, because it's not so much a cultural behavior or act of voluntary imitation, as it is a sort of interactive chain blog post, like those "send this to everyone you know including the person who sent it to you" e-mails. If you think can provide a clear, *concise* explanation as to why and how "meme" is an accurate term to describe the above challenge, please do.

(And I'm still wondering who the meme-gods are.)

Now the assignment is a six-word "memoir," but I'm only 25.5 -- am I *really* old enough to start thinking about a memoir? I don't think so.

{Neurotic perfectionist to a pathological degree}

So because I'm an artist who's not afraid to take advantage of my creative birthright on my own blog, and because I don't believe these so-called "meme-gods" are going to strike me down with a bolt of lightning or 10 plagues or a great flood, and MOST OF ALL because meme is an appropriated term anyway, I'm going to appropriate "memoir" and create my own context. Thus, my response is something more akin to a mission statement or slogan (which is probably not far off from the goal of the challenge anyway -- I'm sure it's all just semantics -- but it feels good to think I'm breaking the mold), presented in business card format. But it fits, tout de même.

Gift wrap

There comes a time in every woman's life when she is faced with a seemingly insurmountable challenge, a problem with no clear solution, and she must look into the farthest reaches of her soul, take a deep breath, and ask herself one question.

What would Martha do?

Jen B's bridal shower was yesterday. Since lemonade is her *favorite* beverage, and she is a soon-to-be Southern hostess, I thought that I'd give her a lemonade set. In fact, I *created* a lemonade set, searching high and low, online and off to find just the right serving tray, glasses and pitcher. And I threw in some super cool screen-printed lettuce and tomato dishtowels from Crate and Barrel (because you can never have too many dishtowels).

The problem was this: how do you gift-wrap a pitcher, four glasses, dishtowels and a serving tray in a way that is neither cumbersome nor ugly (hello), that won't keep the recipient occupied for a decade unwrapping stuff in order to figure out just what in the hell you're giving her?

And so I sought intervention from Michael's. I found an oval box in the boxes-to-decoupage section, and with a little kraft brown wrapping paper, scissors and PVA, I lifted that box from a humble ready-to-decoupage box, to THIS:

A decoupaged box.

The four glasses fit inside *perfectly* (woohoo!), and after stuffing it with yellow tissue paper, I put the lid on and was ready to add some pizazz with ribbon and raffia.

Eh. It needs some OOMPH, I thought. A lemon perhaps (real, of course)? With a bit of mint? Attached with floral wire to the raffia?

Mmmm. Delectable.

Tout de même, there was still the stupid pitcher, towels and tray. Or at least the pitcher and towels, because I figured the tray could just function as a tray and be used as a device to both contain and carry whatever clever solution I came up with.

I tried stuffing the pitcher with yellow tissue paper and draping the towel over the edge of the tray, in a casual sort of way.

No, no, no. Martha would definitely NOT do THAT.

And then I remembered the Blue Wind Gourmet, a local restaurant that serves the most delicious chicken tortilla soup -- AND sends your carry-out with you in plain brown, but sturdy, paper bags, which I save because they make perfect gift bags. So smart. So, so smart. :)

The pitcher fit in the bag perfectly. Regrettably, I did not take a picture of the pitcher before I wrapped it all up, but here's what I did: I placed two lemons inside the pitcher, along with a sprig or two of mint, then placed the lemon-filled pitcher in the yellow-tissue-lined bag. I added some extra yellow tissue on top and VOILA! A gift-wrapping job to arouse ample curiosity, speculation and admiration.

I think Martha would be pleased.

My greatest achievement to date

AT LAST! I wasn't sure that it would ever happen, I've been working on it for so long. But today, just a few moments ago, I did it. I achieved that which so many others try and fail to do for a lifetime. They must pass from this world to the next without knowing the feeling of the wind of such great success because it is so rare, so delicate, so fleeting. It is sad. But I -- *I* -- now glide upon that wind with the grace and majesty and cuteness of a goldfinch.

Perhaps it was partially luck -- being in the right place at the right time, like catching glimpse of a shooting star. But I can say for certain that one does not get to this point without gallons of blood, sweat and tears. It takes dedication and sacrifice. It takes motivation and focus. It takes a refined balance of brain, brawn, beauty and wit. And today the world will know that I, Sarah Christine Schodroski Ehman, have all of that -- and more.

For *I* am now the Bomb Shizzle.

Color me tenacious

Thanks to Jen A and her magnificent blog for hooking me up with the ColorGenics test, which was FAR easier to do than the stupid Myers-Briggs. Unfortunately it didn't tell me anything I didn't already know, but still, it's nice to have my gut feelings confirmed by the Internet every once in a while.

* * *

You are always alert and keenly observant (well said) . You are not truly satisfied with your everyday status and you are seeking fresh avenues which can give you the opportunity to prove your worth. You feel that there are still many barriers that stand between you and recognition - but one by one you will overcome them. Your tenacity is your one good point (only one?!!) - like an English Bulldog, once you take the bite, you will seldom let go.

Enough is enough. Nothing seems to be working out as you would like it to and it has got to the stage where you feel as if you can't be bothered anymore. The way you feel is that it would be great if you could be cut off from everything and take it easy - be it only for a short time (or a very looooooong time...in the French Riviera).

You are feeling under considerable pressure and you are being forced to make concessions. You are not particularly happy with this state of affairs but you feel that you have no alternative. If you were to force issues you would be left out or completely ignored by one and all.

All of your stress arises from lack of mutual understanding. The existing situation is unsatisfactory and you feel that you are unable to improve it without the help and co-operation of others. The need for understanding and for affectionate 'give and take' remains unsatisfied. You are experiencing the feeling of being 'handcuffed' - 'tied down' - 'hindered' - 'restrained' and this untenable situation is giving rise to impatience, irritability and the desire to escape from it all (to the French Riviera. Or Scotland.).

Matters are not all that they would appear to be and you are critical of the existing conditions which you feel are confused and disorganised (I hate disorganised conditions. I hate disorganized conditions, too). You are therefore looking for a modus operandi (YES! Modus operandi! YEEEESSSSSS!) which will simplify the situation so that you will be able to see the 'trees in the woods'.

Dear Jen (A)

I want to say THANK YOU! for asking me what was wrong last Friday, when you noticed that I was going berserk in my own head and I thought I would suffocate from the burden of my own impending insanity. It was as a pin prick relieves a blood blister: a bit painful, kind of icky, but DAMN if I didn't feel instantly better!

Gestures like this serve as a periodic smack in the face to bring me to my senses and force me to realize that whatever I know, or think, or think I know, or know I think, my workaholic imagination is no match for an act of friendship, however simple.

Love, Sarah

SUPAR

It's official: I am an ordained minister of the Universal Life Church.



I see the face you're making, the face that says, "Why, Sarah? What has compelled you--you who are not outwardly spiritual or at all religious--to become an ordained minister?" I'll tell you why: My roommate, fellow art major, and very close friend from college, Jen B, called me about a month ago to tell me that she had just gotten engaged to her boyfriend (and former biology TA), Dave. So, being her only married friend, and having more experience with wedding planning than anyone else she knew, she asked me what to do first. My advice: ENJOY BEING ENGAGED for a week or two, talk to Dave and get on the same page as far as *how* they wanted to do the deed.

So she did. And then a few days later, I had this e-mail message from her:

“Ok, so I have the most random of questions for you and I am just going to go ahead and ask…

Would you be up for getting ordained online so that you would be able to marry us?

We would like one of our friends to marry us, since, while we are very spiritual, we do not declare a certain church. When we came up with the idea of getting one of our friends ordained, I thought of you. Dave and I both agree that it would make for a
well-worded, light-hearted and non-dry ceremony… It’s just an idea and if you
don’t like it, just say so. We realize it’s a strange request, but interesting all the same. We just think you would be perfect!”

Once I realized she was completely serious, I was *LITERALLY* speechless at first and physically could not tell my husband or even move or make a face. Instead I made him read it for himself as I went to take a double shot of ice cream. He thinks I will giggle the whole way through. Jen A and I agree that I’d be very good once I’m up there and rehearsed. Unless I have to wear one of those robes with the giant puffy sleeves. Could you imagine me up there with giant puffy sleeves? Flapping my arms to make them flutter; pulling out a bouquet of flowers, a dove, a box of doughnuts, a cup of coffee.

Although I must say, despite the fact that I have given up trying to be religious, somehow the prospect of getting ordained makes me feel strangely immoral (yet delightfully free) where refusing to be Catholic, as I was raised, or Jewish or Buddhist or Zoroastrian does not. Perhaps it's simply due to the fact that this is something I never even in my MOST BIZARRE IMAGININGS imagined I would have considered or even thought to do.

So I did a bit of Googling before replying to her, and realized that getting ordained online is sort-of akin to becoming a notary public, although the process is shorter and easier and, well, free. You also get to choose your church title; I was fond of "Free Thinker," "Rationalist" and "The Very Esteemed," although Keith insists he would refuse to refer to me by such a title: "Yeah, Mom, me and The Very Esteemed Sarah are coming over for dinner." "Goddess" is pretty good too, although I could also be a "Martyr"--but that one really should be earned.

But I believe I have found *THE ONE* (ready?):

UNIVERSAL PHILOSOPHER OF ABSOLUTE REALITY

I think it's appropriate for an artist/teacher. And when you write it out like this:

Sarah, Universal Philosopher of Absolute Reality

it makes the acronym SUPAR. Which is SO going on my business cards.

Pumpkin-Brownie Strata with Mascarpone Buttercream Frosting -- and wedding bells

This morning, as I was lounging around in my pajamas, enjoying the day off and busying my mind by thinking of all the things I should be doing--showering, eating, moving--I suddenly heard the joyful tune of "When the Saints"--buzzz, buzzz--"Go Marching In"--buzzz, buzzz--coming from my cell phone, which was also vibrating furiously across the coffee table. And I was delighted to discover that it was Jen B calling to tell me that SHE'S *ENGAGED*!

This made me so happy that I could not end the day without sharing this delightful dessert I created after I had an unexplainable but welcome craving for pumpkin and chocolate, which also inspired the work of art posted just before this--a little joy to celebrate a *VERY BIG JOY*! It takes two very individual and very special flavors, and combines them with a layer of what is mostly a combination of butter and sugar and a delicious Italian cheese. Which is not very unlike marriage. Except for mine, as my husband is allergic to dairy, and so our marriage is more like a combination of select brands of margarine and sugar and no cheese--not even the delicious Italian kind. But I'm sure it's healthier that way.

Pumpkin-Brownie Strata with Mascarpone Buttercream Frosting

PUMPKIN
1 C pumpkin puree
1 egg
2 C sugar
1 1/3 C flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp ginger
1/4 tsp cloves

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flower a 9 x 13" pan.
Combine pumpkin, egg and sugar in a large bowl. Sift together flower, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger and cloves. Add flour mixture to pumpkin mixture and mix until combined. Spread evenly in pan.

Bake for 30 - 35 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Allow to cool completely on a wire rack.

BROWNIE
3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
2/3 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup boiling water
2 cups sugar
2 eggs
1 1/3 cups flour
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/4 teaspoon salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour a 9 x 13" pan.
Stir together the cocoa and baking soda in a large bowl. Add 1/3 cup vegetable oil and boiling water. Mix until well blended and thickened. Stir in the sugar, eggs, and remaining 1/3 cup oil. Add flour, vanilla and salt; mix just until all of the flour is absorbed. Spread evenly into the prepared pan.

Bake for 35 - 40 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Allow to cool completely on a wire rack.

MASCARPONE BUTTERCREAM FROSTING
16 ounces mascarpone cheese*
1/2 C butter, softened
2 C confectioner's sugar, sifted
1 tsp vanilla extract

Cream together mascarpone and butter. Mix in vanilla. Gradually add sugar, combining thoroughly.

---

Spread a thinnish layer of frosting on top of the brownie layer--enough to use as a glue. Place the pumpkin layer on top of the brownie layer. This is easier said than done. Frost the pumpkin layer--and don't be stingy, either. Cut into squares or rectangles or stars and serve!

* You can use cream cheese if you can't find mascarpone (say it: mas-car-PONE-ay)--but it's not nearly as fancy-sounding (or tasting).

Courrier electronique - part deux

From: Amber, Jennifer
Sent: Wednesday, September 19, 2007 15:41

You're bloggerific today! ;)

---

From: Schodroski, Sarah C
Sent: Wednesday, September 19, 2007 15:38

Does the candle just stay lit and drip wax all over the floor? Does the faucet keep running? Yeah, um, sorry, all of that at least better be cooking me breakfast too. Freaks.

---

From: Amber, Jennifer
Sent: Wednesday, September 19, 2007 15:27

OMG if I ever woke up to find that my roommate did this in my house, I think I'd freak! ;)

-----Original Message-----

This is a pretty good video. The guy who made it must have WAY too much time on his hands, but it's pretty entertaining. The mind of a bored engineer is a scary thing…
http://www.chilloutzone.de/files/player.swf?b=10&l=197&u=ILLUMllSOOAvIF//P_LxP92A42lCHCeeWCejXnHAS/c

Courrier electronique

From: Schodroski, Sarah C
Sent: Wednesday, September 19, 2007 9:02

LOL- I'm signing into my account as we speak...

---

From: Amber, Jennifer
Sent: Wednesday, September 19, 2007 9:00

I think you have another blog entry! ;) hehehe along w/ the pumpkin brownie recipe!

---

From: Schodroski, Sarah C
Sent: Wednesday, September 19, 2007 8:59

I agree--I never have liked that word since it sounds so...biological. And epicurean sounds like a type of beautician. And foodie sounds a bit obsessive and *ahem* unsophisticated, like roadie or groupie (Duuuuuude! AWEsome pizza!). But I *am* partial to "bon vivant"! :)
...
I looked it up just to make sure, and it literally means "jovial fellow" in French! I like it even more!!

Sarah Schodroski Ehman, Bon Vivant :)

---

From: Amber, Jennifer
Sent: Wednesday, September 19, 2007 8:47

gastronome (noun) A connoisseur of good food and drink.
Synonyms: epicure, epicurean, foodie, gourmet, bon vivant
Usage: He was quite the gastronome, and restaurant chefs around the town knew it was important to impress him.

** somehow, I still wouldn't want someone to CALL ME THAT!! ;) LOL

Scientific method

Observation: I have two Jennifers: Jen A. and Jen B. Each of my Jennifers happens to have at least two Sarahs. One might speculate that each of these Sarahs has another Jennifer, who has another Sarah, etc., and thus that every Jennifer has a Sarah and every Sarah, then, has a Jennifer.

Hypothesis: There is a metaphysical connection between girls of the name Jennifer and girls of the name Sarah. One cannot exist without the other. A Jennifer without a Sarah or a Sarah without a Jennifer is, therefore, an incomplete being: throwing the universe out of whack, and doomed to a life of emptiness and despair.

Other possibilities: It has occurred to me that the popularity of the names Jennifer and Sarah may be the cause of the Jennifer-Sarah link. The high occurrence of babies with these names in the early 1980s could thus indicate a high probability of a girl named Jennifer having a friend named Sarah and vice versa. As both names ranked in the top 5 for the decade (according to the Social Security Administration--they would know), this explanation seems feasible.

Argument: However, Jessica, Amanda and Ashley also ranked in the top 5. It would then seem statistically probable that every Sarah and/or Jennifer would have a Jessica, Amanda and Ashley too. Yet this is not necessarily the case.

Conclusion: I am right, as evidenced by Jen A's statement: “You are a shining example of intelligence wrapped up in pretty.” She also gave me peanut M&M’s. Metaphysical connection. Complete and fulfilled being.