Recipe: Peppermint Mocha Mix

Believe it or not, I'm kind of a sucker for the holidays, and with finals coming up, I needed a little variety in my coffee consumption. Since I didn't fancy spending $5 every time I wanted a little extra flavor in my espresso, I made my own peppermint mocha mix. Assuming you don't have any of the ingredients on hand, it'll run you about $9, but you can probably make more than 20 mochas with one batch.

1 bag milk chocolate chips ($2.50)
1 can sweetened condensed milk* ($0.80)
*I recommend fat free. The texture is better, it's cheaper, and hey, it's fat free.
3tsp peppermint extract ($4.00 for a 1oz bottle; I had some leftover from a baking experiment)
1/2 cup milk (optional) ($2.00)

Add sweetened condensed milk and chocolate chips to medium saucepan over low heat, stirring constantly (seriously... those chips will burn to the bottom of the pan faster than you can say "bitter crusty mess"). Once the chips are melted and blended thoroughly, slowly add milk for desired consistency (it'll thicken as it cools; if you lift the spoon and it drips maybe once every 3 seconds, you're golden). It's not quite as important to stir constantly at this point, but don't walk away and watch Christmas specials until the next commercial, either. Add peppermint extract to taste. I used about 3 teaspoons I THINK but you want to taste it as you go to make sure it's not overpowering. Stir well.

Let it cool and put it in a jar or bottle in your fridge. Add to coffee, pour over ice cream, drink it straight (just kidding about that last one... gross).

Safety Gear

This isn't a real blog post, just something I found inordinately hilarious, having worked in a shop where you have to wear a respirator mask and safety glasses just to use the file cabinets.

"It's ok, he was wearing a bandanna and his iPhone covered one eye, in Alabama that's considered full safety gear." -Comment by user "brandon-esterer" on this video of a brake rotor exploding.

Recipe: Refried Sweet Potatoes

I love burritos. I hate rice and refried beans. This has been a serious dilemma for sometime now... because without either beans or rice, most burritos are just big phony fajitas. Not to say that fajitas are not absolutely delicious, but sometimes you want the substance that a little starch provides.

I tried using corn in my burritos for a while, which while tasty, led to the discovery that I'm allergic to corn. Which in turn led to me realizing I should drastically limit my HFCS (read: pop) intake, which I should have done long ago anyway. Bummer.

Well, today I had an epiphany. I had a small handful of chipotle sweet potato fries in my freezer, and having tried regular potatoes in burritos and finding them a little too bland (during a week in Mexico at the end of which we were putting doritos, pretzels, and even plastic cracker jack toys in our sandwiches and burritos to spice them up), I wondered if sweet potatoes in burritos would do the trick.

Boy, did they EVER. After trying the recipe below in what was meant to be a trial-and-error process but turned out to be an instant success, I had a bowl of beautifully-textured bright-orange sweet potato "mash" that made the best damn burrito ever. Seriously, someone needs to let Chipotle and Qdoba know about this, because was DELICIOUS. And gorgeous too, unlike the very unappetizing brown mess that is refried beans.

Recipe for One Burrito:
Sweet potato fries*
Dash of water

Put about a handful of frozen fries in a microwave-safe bowl (a small handful - it makes a lot more finished product than you might expect). Sprinkle a little water - maybe half a teaspon - over the fries and put in the microwave for one minute. After a minute, mash them with a fork, stir them, add a little more water if needed (and any seasonings you might like), and microwave for an additional 30-60 seconds. Presto - refried sweet potatoes! Use it however you might use refried beans - personally, I'm going to try one of those layered taco dips with this stuff.

*I would recommend using frozen fries, though I haven't tried anything else yet. But frozen fries are high in moisture, and they aren't fried all the way because they're meant to crisp up when you bake them, so they mash really nicely. If you try using leftover restaurant fries or homemades, let me know how it goes.

Pride, Prejudice, Zombies, and Disappointment

I like zombies. And while some would be surprised to hear me admit it, I like Pride and Prejudice (the book, not the absurd six-hour BBC miniseries).

So, when I heard about "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies," I added it to my literary to-do list. And promptly forgot about it. The premise seemed good, but I was reading Bram Stoker's Dracula at the time, and there's no competing with that for a little light reading about the dead walking the 17th century earth, despite the subsequent release of sister titles like "Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters," "Jane Slayre," and the one with the title that reads like a bad screenplay pitch, "The War of the Worlds Plus Blood, Guts, and Zombies."

Last weekend, a friend lent me "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies" since she was bored with it, and having gotten through about fifteen chapters, I can say that the last title really sums up the premise of these books. Take a literary classic, add a dash of flesh-eating mutants, splash a little gore on the cover.

This was the first, and ultimately, critical problem for me. The zombies were slapped as carelessly into the narrative as they were to the title, and I could summarize the entire thing as "classic Jane Austen, and oh, by the way, zombies," ad nauseum. You read through a few of Austen's original lines only to be jolted out of context by some egregious mention of the undead, referred to in the book as the unmentionables. It was hard enough for me to deal with being abruptly reminded every few moments that the period-appropriate settings and behaviors were subject to the absence of the zombies in that particular scene; I didn't need to be confused at every turn as to whether I was reading about a bunch of marriage-happy Regency women, a plague of flesh-eaters, or a pair of underpants. Terminology aside, each mention of the zombies was as out of place in the book as a Chuck Norris would be in a dress - which is the basic premise, considering a sentence hardly passes without the additive author telling us that the heroines are masters of "the deadly arts" and remarking on their training in the Orient and their skill with a blade or a roundhouse kick. There is no attempt whatsoever to introduce a plot by which the inclusion of zombies alters the original tale; in fact, it sometimes introduces fallacies into whatever there is of a plot. One such case has Elizabeth Bennet refusing to join Darcy and the Bingley sisters for an afternoon stroll because the path they are to take is infested with people who would like to eat their brains; why, then, is the seemingly genre-savvy Darcy intent on taking that path? If the premise of classic British literature with zombies appeals to you, give your 12-year old brother your copy of "Pride and Prejudice" and have him draw a bunch of necrotic gore in the margins to similar effect.

The second problem I had with the book, which didn't really affect my decision to read it, or to quit reading it shortly after, was Twilight. Yes, I know that bitching about Twilight is nearly as bad as Twilight itself these days, but there's a point. Twilight spawns an interest in young adult novels about the undead and other creatures of legend, reimagined as romantic protagonists and providing, supposedly, for interesting undead character studies. Of course, it's trash, causing many people to vehemently disdain Twilight. Of course, these naysayers aren't immune to the lure of the literary undead, but since they can't be seen dead with a copy of "New Moon," and they can't be bothered to actually write a worthwhile piece in that vein, they slap some rotting corpses into what used to be respectable books and call it a day. Our cultural standards just slipped a little lower into the murk of blood n' glitter... which, by the way, is probably going to be a Ke$ha stage-look sometime soon.

Ultimately, reading "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies" just made me want to read "Pride and Prejudice" and watch "Shaun of the Dead," and thank my lucky stars that those are two entirely separate works of fiction.

Party Like It's 1999

First things first: I hate the 80's. The cultural inundation of skinny jeans and day-glo geometry has given me constant nightmares of a dystopian future of neon body art and seizure-inducing music videos.

Not to mention the hipster version: mustaches, aviators, and mullets. Seriously, let's leave that alone entirely.

So, imagine my joy when I heard Usher and Will.i.am's OMG on the radio. Yeah, the glaring reference to AIM-speak was kind of painful at first. But a few moments into the song comes, not quite a sample, but a reference to a 90's remix of a funk favorite called "Love You Down," which happens to be on heavy rotation at the local roller rink. The video of the INOJ version of the song is deliciously 90's, and I hope it's a sign that the 80's mania is on its way out.

*Note: let's take the 80's to include the first two years of the 90's... it was kind of a rough transition.



Granted, it's pretty sad when instead of original style, we're just recycling our parent's parachute pants. And when song titles could be half-assed text messages, and when the denim era seems to be an improvement on pop culture. But, it's definitely the lesser of two evils, and there's always Lady Gaga to make things fresh for us (or, to make a fresh place for latex on the surface of society rather than the margins). Plus, I like the thought that the Pussycat Dolls are just newer, sluttier Spice Girls (horrible person, right?).

Additionally, I'm giving thanks that my favorite decade hasn't been wholesaled into modern fashion (not that I think the 1920's are up for a reboot anytime soon; zoot suits and drop-waists are tough styles to sport).

I eagerly await the advent of the 1990's.

So Your Roommate's An INTJ...

So you find yourself rooming with an INTJ. How this happened is beyond you, since you were under the impression that INTJs were antisocial hermits, who lived alone in dark, dank warrens... or in some bizarre contradiction of an antisocial commune of the type.

If you are not an INTJ yourself, chances are that next year will find you scrambling to get out of your lease, in a sudden and terribly confusing shouting match, curled up in the farthest corner of your room twitching and scrawling an itemized list of your roommate's many foibles on the wall in black crayon, or with the body of your INTJ flatmate tucked securely under your floorboards.

Unless, of course, you have the wisdom of an INTJ to guide you through this potentially harrowing experience.

Generally, INTJ housemates require little maintenance. Leave them to their space and don't make any drastic changes to the furniture arrangements, and you will hardly even know they are there (apart from the regular occurrences of the coffee pot emptying overnight and an accordingly scoured bathroom). But there are a number of triggers which could send your tidy and withdrawn INTJ into a rage from which your relationship and your living space might never recover. Here's how to avoid them.

1. Identify your INTJ's territory. Leave it alone. AT. ALL. COSTS.
INTJs are fastidious creatures. They keep their stuff ordered and tidy (unless it's a mess of hook-up cable, LEDs, and solder, although I'm sure they have a system for it). The good news is that they will keep common areas and items tidy as well. The bad news is that if you mess up their stuff or especially their space, they will freak out. If your INTJ has his/her own room, don't go near it without permission. If they don't, and in common areas, they will probably sequester the stuff they feel is personal property in a certain corner or cubby. Leave it alone unless they give you permission to use it, and if you do, return it as you found it. If you want your stuff left alone too, feel free to tell your INTJ. They will be happy to accommodate your request... although, if you let them use your stuff, they will often return it cleaner and more organized than you had it before.

2. Tell 'Em How You Want It
INTJs are either incapable of or uninterested in playing guessing games with your feelings. No matter how many times you sigh disconsolately when they play trip-hop during their late night study sessions, your INTJ will continue to do it until you TELL them otherwise. The good news is that INTJs deal with confrontation extremely well (some people accuse them of relishing it). Being direct is the best way to deal with them, and rather than being offended by hearing your specific expectations for the space-sharing situation, they will be pleased to know exactly how the situation stands. Generally, INTJs are accepting of suggestions or expectations that are reasonable and don't violate any of their expectations of how a house/dorm/apartment should run. State exactly what you want (I'd prefer if we left the windows open at night instead of running the air conditioning) and why you want it (because the vent is right by my bed and it gets extremely cold). You might even get an innovative solution from your problem-solving INTJ (what if we close your vent at night instead, because my room is upstairs and it gets too hot to sleep without the A/C).

3. Be Reasonable
INTJs are logic-driven. You can argue with them until you're blue in the face, but unless you can provide a sound reason for your side of the argument, all you will get is blue in the face. That said, if you have a good reason for something or even if you don't but you can discuss it calmly and rationally, an INTJ will probably hear you out pretty agreeably. Be specific and concise, and don't appeal to their emotions (INTJs don't have any).

4. Yours, Mine, and Ours
INTJs usually have pretty set standards for how they expect people to behave. They are often higher than most peoples' standards, but as long as you keep the mess and mayhem out of their defined territory, they're usually content to let you under-perform their expectations. However, in their own space, they will be absolutely intolerant of any failure to meet expectations of cleanliness and conduct, as is their right. In your own space, you are welcome to do as you please. In common space, they will probably be displeased but non-confrontational as long as you meet the bare minimums (talking about your expectations for common space right away is recommended to find out what the range of expectations is), but be warned, INTJs will not put a lot of effort into spaces or circumstances where their expectations aren't being met. If you have decided to share dishwasher duty but never rinse your dishes before loading them, don't be surprised if your INTJ leaves your spotty dishes in there when he/shes unloads it.

Good luck with your housing adventures... although if you are an ENFP, I'd start looking to sublet.

Hello, Are You From the Past?

This is kind of minor.

But, I was watching "The Office" on Hulu when a commercial for Clorox Bleach came on. They dirtied up a bunch of clothes and then a bunch of women oohed and aahed over the stain-fighting power of Clorox.

Is this really where society is with understanding of gender roles? Thinking that orienting your marketing around the idea that only women do laundry and other household chores is somehow relevant and effective? Because I'm pretty sure this is the same discriminatory shit they were shilling in the old Betty Crocker cookbook that I think my mom got from her mom.

Not like many guys are going to get all sparkle-eyed over a laundry detergent that erases ink stains, but neither is any woman I know.

Kitty Cat Klub, Revisited

We went out to Kitty Cat Klub for Evan's birthday... after eating homemade apple pie out of the back of Konrad's car.

It was even weirder this time, most likely because Spring Jam was in full swing, which we didn't realize until we got near Dinkytown and realized our mistake.

We went through with it anyway, and instead of a sea of bearded hipsters, there were some scantily clad college girls dancing in front of a horribly hypnotic video loop proclaiming "MENERGY!" with a flashing, spinning picture of a mustachioed 80's dude.

One of these scantily clad girls stood out in her trampiness; we deemed her the "Christina Aguilera Backup Dancer Reject." She was dancing spastically by herself until this dude in an open, Coldplay-esque (Evan said Sgt. Pepper) military jacket, no shirt underneath, wandered over and proceeded to "eat her neck," as Konrad put it. They then proceeded into the photo booth, the curtain of which does not go all the way down to the seat. These two classy people either did not notice or did not care, because Sgt. Pepper made short work of getting his hand up Backup Dancer's short, tutu-like skirt.

AWKWARD.

On our way out, Evan sang an Amanda Palmer song about getting tested for STDs pregnancy. It was kinda great, even though he didn't have the eyebrows to go with it. (The song is called "Oasis" if you wanted to know)

Critical Mass: Twin Cities Sports Venues

In fall semester of 2007, I started paying the University a compulsory fee so they could build a stadium I would never use. In fall of 2009, I started waking up on Saturday mornings (my infrequent and well-earned opportunities to sleep in) to the sound of the new stadium all the way on the other campus. Of course, it's a comfort to know that the obnoxious noise and the rise in traffic is coming from the stadium that boasts the third-largest scoreboard in Big Ten football... and since I know it doesn't come across clearly in writing, that last bit was sarcasm.


On March 27, Target Field hosted its inaugural game. While I didn't have to be bothered with hearing it, as a Minnesota taxpayer, I still felt a little bitter at the prospect of paying for something that has very little benefit to me. Not nearly as bitter as I did about the U of M stadium, which has had a more direct impact on my life and finances without ANY personal benefit. I am a fan of the great American past-time, and since Target Field will usually be home to the major-league Minnesota Twins who, I'm sure, contributed a chunk out of their operating budget for the venue, it's something of an easier pill to swallow.

But apparently TCF Stadium and Target Field have given Gopher baseball big dreams of their own spanking-new ballpark at the tail-end of an economic downturn, or so the MN Daily reported this morning. With recent Daily blurbs about budget cuts cast against the background of our shiny new stadium, its shiny new Bio building neighbors, and the especially shiny new science building across from the Weisman, the prospect of being charged increased tuition and more stadium fees is nothing short of incensing.

In all seriousness, how many ballparks does one city (okay, two cities, I guess) need? Our major league teams occupy four venues - the Metrodome, the Xcel Energy Center, the Target Center, and the new Target Field. Our college teams weigh in at six - TCF Bank Stadium, Mariucci Arena, Williams Arena, Ridder Arena, Elizabeth Robbie Stadium, and Siebert Field (the current home of Gopher baseball). Not to mention the venues that are not associated with professional or collegiate sports - the National Sports Center in Blaine, the Roy Wilkins Auditorium and Minneapolis Convention Center which host the local roller derby teams, and Midway Stadium.

That's a lot of sports arenas, and with a striking lack of crossover considering many sports teams used to share space. Up until last fall, both Gopher football and MN Twins baseball shared the Metrodome with Vikings football. Both teams now have their new fields, and the Vikings themselves are looking to get their own new space... which makes me wonder what will become of the wonderful Roller-Dome program which uses the Metrodome during Vikings downtime to provide a place for rollerbladers and skaters to train and compete during the harsh Minnesota winters.

It seems to me that a little creative planning would have been a better solution for sporting event spaces than a slew of new stadiums. And while the construction cycles undoubtedly added some funds to a struggling economy, they also relied on funds from people who had little or no say in the matter, and ate up a significant portion of local real estate for relatively inefficient use. In fact, the streets around the TCF Bank had to be rerouted for construction and a parking lot mostly removed. I also see bright-eyed young architecture students plastering their building with drawings and models of oh-so-sustainable new building plans, and wonder if maybe they would benefit from some practical application (more practical than Solar Decathlon, at least) of their craft in finding solutions for U of M multi-purpose facilities.

Finally, for every $12.50 the U of M charges me for new sports facilities, I will be reclaiming that amount in purloined office supplies, and chairs otherwise destined for the Re-Use Center. Unless they want to include a space for a U of M women's flat-track roller derby team - then they can have my money, and my participation too (provided I don't make the cut next month for MNRG).

Kitty Cat Circus

The beards-per-capita ratio at the Kitty Cat Klub last night was nothing short of impressive. Honestly, there may even have been some bearded ladies... or perhaps just wispy hipster chicks caught in the facial fluff of their significantly hip others.

Okay, so waspish stereotyping aside, Kitty Cat Klub was everything and nothing like I expected. It was my first foray into the Dinkytown standby, despite the fact that I have been suggesting it to friends forever. Working at the architecure building on campus gave me a good idea of what the place was like, considering that I think the entire department hangs out there. And as much as I like to distinguish myself from that half of the design community, I wandered out to Kitty Cat Klub last night because some friends were playing a show there, and because Sunday nights are boring.

There was some confusion about the time of the concert, so when I got there at 7pm, the place was dead. I grabbed a bottle of the one root beer they offer and sat down with a copy of Bram Stoker's "Dracula" to pass the time, before running into my band member buddies, who had also gotten there rather earlier than necessary. Of all the places I could imagine killing a few hours, the Kitty Cat Klub at that point of the evening was a front-runner for the top of the list. Somewhere between kitschy old library and opium den in decor, it had a bunch of couches, benches, and comfy chairs. Add to that some really decent food, which I think they brought in from Annie's upstairs, a photo booth, pool table, and some cheesy pinball games off in one corner, and it was like a less gimmicky version of the Chatterbox. And a half-decent bar, which even if I don't drink that much, I can appreciate, especially because watching the bartenders mix drinks was a good way to avert my view from the weird, arhythmic dancing of the hipsters once the music started.

And it had jewel-toned lights, which, combined with the sudden incursion of the inked-and-bearded around 9pm, really sort of made it feel like a circus.

CAT Kool-Aid: Brand Loyalty

Some folks from Solar Vehicle and the Carlson School had lunch at Caterpillar (CAT) today. It was pretty impressive, considering we got a tour of the factory where they make 90,000 lb pavers one at a time. Equally impressive was the enthusiasm that went in to the design, manufacture, and marketing of those pavers. Our contacts at CAT were eager to tell us about their operations, show us things like half-inch steel plate being cold-rolled into compactor drums, and take group pictures in front of the rotary mixers. They wore their CAT loyalty on their sleeves, and allowed us to do the same by sending us home with some hats and die-cast models (very generous of them, and a nice addition to my collection of yellow vehicle models which includes other CAT pavers).

As a graphic designer, the fact that the corporation even has merchandise related to their product is intriguing. Besides being ridiculously good at what they do, CAT has developed a highly visible and consistent brand image that allows their employees and enthusiasts (yes, this paving equipment company has fans) to demonstrate the loyalty that is instilled by an engaging work environment and a superior product.

And, being a graphic designer, I have a lot of brand loyalties of my own based on both product quality and brand image. CAT is definitely one of them, considering their contributions to the solar car team, their "hometown" appeal, and their reputation as a quality engineering and production entity. For kicks, here's a short list of some of my other favorite brands.



MINI Cooper - Taking a historical icon into the present is difficult enough, but making the reimagined product an icon in its own right is quite the achievement. BMW, another high-visibility brand, was probably the best positioned to take on the task of maintaining the brand image of the endearingly diminuitive car. They produced a stylish and functional homage, and though their recent modifications to the line depart from the classic brand concept in ways I'm not quite sure I like (the MINI Beachcomber unveiled at the Detroit Auto Show can only be described as gimmicky), it can it least be said that they've got the guts to try and implement the innovation of an icon. Plus, any graphic designer worth their salt is probably desperately in love with their cheeky, minimalist design scheme.


Pepsi - There's really no matching the merchandising volume of Coca-Cola, whose brand image has retained value throughout its lifespan and in all its incarnations. Heck, Coke pretty much owns the idea of Santa these days; it's hard for a brand image to get more ubiquitous. But the saying goes "quality over quantity," and Pepsi has quality in spades when it comes to both product and image. Neglecting their under-represented sector in the energy drink market (we'll consider Amp a separate brand), they have held strong against decades of Coke supremacy and have underdog appeal with big dog market presence. Their recent brand re-imaging could have gone better (their Pepsi logo has been likened to a fat dude), but whatever they lost in awkward vector graphics and glaring comparisons with the Obama campaign, they made up for with their Throwback initiatives. At least the stylishly retro first attempt.



Target - Like CAT, this large corporation has local appeal. The brand is so much a part of the character of Minneapolis that both our pro basketball arena/event center and now our baseball field bear its name. In addition, the brand seems to be so much a part of the character of the country that the bullseye logo has been reported as one of the most recognized in the design industry; Target often forgoing their name in recent advertising efforts because their brand recognition can be assured with even such minimal cues as their color scheme. Honestly, you can't even wear khakis and red together anymore unless you want someone to ask you which aisle cereal is in. Besides their undeniable presence, Target's PR positioning as a more upscale alternative to their major competitors (Walmart, KMart), with big-name designers contributing budget product lines, gives the Target brand an edge with would-be followers... let's face it, the only people who will ever wear that garish yellow smiley as a badge of identity will be the octogenarian greeters in blue vests.


Rocket Dogs - Okay, so their image isn't exactly plastered everywhere you go. And since their logo is a purple and orange canine eyesore, this is probably a good thing. But I just can't get enough of their sturdy sneakers (they resist fraying and sole wear even longer than Converse I've owned) and quirky name. Is the Converse brand more recongizable, and rightfully so (so much so that I modeled my "All Stars Roller Girls" roller skate design on them)? Yeah. But at least in my opinion, their overly-narrow sneakers and their limitation to essentially three designs in four hundred colors leaves something to be desired. I wouldn't wear that obnoxious indigo dog on my sleeve... but I certainly don't mind wearing a nondescript version on my shoes.