Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Why is it so hard to simply *not* eat chicken wings?

Just so no one's confused... this is a repost from the Net:
Old Bay BBQ Sauce
1/2 Cup Sweet Baby Rays BBQ Sauce
1 Cup - Apple Cider Vinegar (I only had white, so that's what I used, Apple Cider would have been better)
2 TBS - Old Bay Seafood Seasoning
1 TBS - Dehydrated Minced Garlic (Fresh can be used)
1 TBS - Dehydrated Chopped Onion (Fresh can be used)
2 TBS - Butter
Combine all ingredients and bring to a boil.

Monday, December 28, 2009

It's Almost New Year's! Time for a Royal Rebel Deb A**-Kickin'

My boyfriend and I just started a new, butt-kicking workout routine. It basically involves 30 minutes of me doing this...

While he does this...

Followed by another half-hour or so of this...

So I can, hopefully, end up looking like this...

So far, it's gone really well. We spent all day ice-skating in Central Park, followed by a trek to Whole Foods where we stocked up on whole wheat EVERYTHING, organic meats, yogurt, fruit and nonfat granola. Then, we hit the gym for our usual butt-bustin' (see above). All to try and burn off some of this thinking/writing/sitting on your butt weight we've both gained over the past two years.

Wish us luck! It's time to start our New Year's Resolution a bit early....

Rebel Deb

Saturday, December 26, 2009

10 Things Husbands (of Rebel Debs) Should Never Do...

By Diane Oatis
(borrowed from Yahoo news!)

"Guys, we love you, we really do. But as wonderful as you are, every so often you do something that makes us want to jump out the nearest window (or push you out first). Please, please, don’t ever…

1. Offer to “babysit” your own kids. When your 16-year-old neighbor does it, it’s called babysitting. When a parent does it, it’s called child care, and it lasts for at least 18 years. Get it?

2. Imply that office work is harder than housework. At the end of a hard day, there may be smoke coming out of your ears, but let’s face it: You’ve basically been sitting on your butt. That same smoke is coming out of our ears too—but we’ve cleaned the house, shuttled the kids around, run errands all over town and lugged grocery bags besides. When we say we’re exhausted, we are exhausted.

3. Give a home appliance as a gift. Forgive us if we can’t work it up for this one. A new washing machine? Really? Can we get you some new snow tires?

4. Buy us the “cougar” perfume. Under our crew-neck sweaters may beat the heart of an untamed vixen—but most of us don’t want to smell like one. (Nice try, though.)

5. Brag about your driving. This is supposed to let us know that ours isn’t so great. If my husband tells me one more time that he’s been “accident-free since 1978,” I’m going to reach over, grab the wheel and make the car swerve into something, just to shut him up.

6. Be unimpressed by a meal that took a lot of time and trouble. I don’t know whose fault this is (Food Network? Julie and Julia?), but every so often we get the idea that it would be fun to make stock and spend the day basting. If the result is less than earth-shattering, say something nice anyway.

7. Buy clothes without trying them on. We know that the second you get into a department store you start to feel faint, but do us a favor and take the extra five minutes. Otherwise, you know who gets stuck with the returns?

8. Know it all, especially in public. Oh, honey. While you’re going on at length about whatever it is, we’re taking the temperature of the room, and we know everyone’s starting to fidget.

9. Say anything remotely critical about our new haircut. Sometimes getting a new cut goes well; sometimes it doesn’t. Usually we know the difference. Don’t rub it in.

10. Expect a medal for doing a little housework. Umm…it’s your house too, right? For now, we’ll give you the bronze. Maybe someday, if you work hard enough, you can pick up a gold."

Rebel Deb

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Have a Merry, Zombie Christmas!

Watch out, kid... those brains look mighty tasty!

Justin and I traipsed through the snow last night, schlepping from the East Village of Manhattan into deep, dark Prospect Park, to attend my good friend, Katie's, holiday party. As if the promise free booze, food and friendship weren't prize enough for our travels, this delightful invitation made us committed to the trek:

"I was going to write a long explanation of why we all could use a party, and how we haven’t seen some of you for too long, etc. etc. But you know all of that already. Instead I’ll just include this mash-up of us, Little Women, and zombies:

"CHRISTMAS won't be Christmas without any presents," grumbled Kevin, lying on the rug.

"It's so dreadful to be poor!" sighed Katie, looking down at her old dress.

"I don't think it's fair for some zombies to have plenty of brains, and other zombies nothing at all," added a little zombie, with an injured sniff.

"We've got father and mother and each other," said Peter contentedly, from his corner.

The four young faces on which the firelight shone brightened at the cheerful words, but darkened again as Katie said sadly, —

"We haven't got father, and shall not have him for a long time." She didn't say "perhaps never," but each silently added it, thinking of father far away, where the fighting was.

Nobody spoke for a minute; then Kevin said in an altered tone,—

"You know the reason mother proposed not having any presents this Christmas was because it is going to be a hard winter for every one; and she thinks we ought not to spend money for pleasure, when our men are suffering so in the army of darkness. We can't do much, but we can make our little sacrifices, and ought to do it gladly. But I am afraid I don't;" and Kevin shook his head, as he thought regretfully of all the pretty things he wanted.

"But I don't think the little we should spend would do any good. We've each got a dollar, and the army wouldn't be much helped by our giving that. I agree not to expect anything from mother or you, but I do want to buy Undine and Sintram for myself; I've wanted it so long," said Katie, who was a bookworm.

"I planned to spend mine in new music," said Peter, with a little sigh, which no one heard but the hearth-brush and kettle-holder.

"I shall get a nice box of Faber's drawing-pencils; I really need them," said Kevin decidedly.

"Mother didn't say anything about our money, and she won't wish us to give up everything. Let's each buy what we want, and throw a party, and have a little fun; I'm sure we work hard enough to earn it," cried Katie, examining the heels of her shoes in a gentlemanly manner."

I love having witty friends, who love to nerd-it-up in literary fashion... with appropriately-timed zombie references... just like me!

Rebel Deb

Sunday, December 6, 2009

The Jackasses of 2009...

reposted from Yahoo news...

"Condemning the rich and famous for straying from the public persona may be a ruthless spectator sport, but the urge to forgive the penitent also runs deep. In 2009, the crimes and concessions kept coming, from the relatively mild to the straight-out bizarre. Below, in chronological order, the apologists which drew lots of Web attention in 2009.

Michael Phelps. One moment, you're a record-breaking Olympian manfish. The next, you're a fallible fellow caught in a misdemeanor. His Feb. 2 apology came swiftly after a British newspaper posted party pics of Phelps with a cannabis pipe. A South Carolina sheriff seemed out to get him, but the gold medalist got away with a three-month ban and losing a Kellogg deal.

Christian Bale. Foul-mouthed rants seemed so 2007, but the actor cussed out a director of photography on the "Terminator Salvation" set for ruining his concentration. The tape leaked Feb. 2, which inspired a week of remixes and parodies. Bale manned up the old-fashioned way: by calling into the radio station that played snippets all week. As to who owes apologies for the movie's lukewarm reception—that's still unclear.

Rupert Murdoch. The Post's published apology following its infamous Feb. 18 chimp cartoon (meant to tie together headlines about a chimpanzee attack and the Obama stimulus package) didn't appease many. Chairman Murdoch gave it a go, and got better results.

Michael Steele. In the March scramble for the title of de facto lead of the Republican party, the RNC chairman agreed that Rush Limbaugh was "incendiary...and ugly." That didn't sit well with the radio host, and within two days Steele clarified his "inarticulate" comments.

Mark Sanford. How the South Carolina governor's tale of infidelity unfolded over Father's Day Weekend was odd, and so was the tearful and meandering press conference on June 24. Once he started, he couldn't stop talking about his "soul mate" and "crossing the line." The 2012 GOP hopeful may still face ethical charges. His estranged wife? Book deal.

Chris Brown. The singing/acting prodigy became a villain in a domestic-violence dispute with celebrity girlfriend, Rihanna, on Grammy night (Feb. 8). Brown's posted apology on July 20 received mixed reviews, and the incident inspired dueling albums. Brown—sentenced to a five-year probation—plans to tell all in a Dec. 11 "20/20" interview. For her part, Rihanna has rebounded.

Kanye West. Slamming a president is one thing, but trashing an ingenue's first VMA Awards moment is another. The hip-hop artist got booted after he interrupted Taylor Swift's Best Female Video win on Sept. 13. His chain of apologies began on his blog (twice), continued on Jay Leno, and concluded with a direct phone call.

David Letterman. The "Late Night" host had to issue multiple mea culpas: The first was for a poor joke directed at the daughter of then-Alaska governor Sarah Palin. The whopper came in the fall, when he 'fessed up to workplace affairs after an alleged blackmail scheme. The Oct. 5 apology came four days later, reportedly at some urging.

Steve Phillips. An affair with an obsessed a 22-year-old coworker, a divorce filing from his wife of 19 years, and an October firing: No wonder the only thing left for the ESPN baseball analyst, 46, was to be "deeply sorry" on Oct. 21 and hide away in rehab for sex addiction until the next act."