Have you ever promised something that you can’t deliver? I recently promised to deliver some baked beans, only to find that the cans of baked beans I swear were in the pantry had disappeared. Darn gnomes. I did find ten cans of plain black beans (thank you, Costco!) so I improvised a recipe. They’re a-baking right now, so I’ll have to post an update to let you know how they turned out. In case you want to re-create them at home, here’s the specs: 1 15 oz can black beans, drained and rinsed 1 15 oz can black beans, as-is including all the goo that they’re floating in. Equal parts ketchup, yellow mustard, brown sugar, and molasses (about 1/6 C each) 2 canned chipotle chiles with whatever adobo sauce clings to them (chopped if desired, whole if you don’t want to dirty a cutting board) 1 good shake of cayenne pepper (to taste) Mix all ingredients in a shallow pan (like a pyrex pie plate) and bake at 375 until hot, and hopefully a little crusty on top. Let stand 5 minutes before serving to let the fluid thicken. Taste for salt and pepper, I assume. In a perfect world, I would have thrown in a piece of bacon and some diced onion, but the cupboard was bare. And I did some internet searches for quick baked bean recipes, only to find that they all required several hours of oven time (that’s quick? In what universe?). And, inexplicably, several recipes called for cans of baked beans. Hello, if I had cans of baked beans, I wouldn’t need a recipe for baked beans!! Update: Some good smells are wafting from the kitchen. I’m optimistic. Update 2: These turned out incredibly delicious! I didn't add any salt or pepper, and baked them for about 45 minutes, stirring partway through. I didn't miss the bacon or onions at all. Wow. I'll be making these a LOT this summer.

OK so I passed a major blog milestone last week with my first meme, so why stop there? I decided just 30 seconds ago that I should liveblog a TV show. Something significant. Well, So You Think You Can Dance premieres tonight. Well, right now! I'd better get to it. 8:01 Woo, crotch shot. 8:02 "Sex is back" "No he's not" Eww I remember this guy. Creepy, and it's hard to tell if he's really serious. Oh, the theme music! God, I love this show. It just screams "summer" to me. Like hot dogs. 8:08 Cat Deely is explaining why they're holding auditions in New York. Apparently it's the dance capital of the world! Nigel tells Mary she looks cute. I think she looks like a waitress at El Torito. Wow, I'm really bad at this. Turns out blogging takes thought! Maybe I'll wait until the next commercial to post again. 8:12 First audition: Dancin' Derrick Bradley He's certainly energetic. He looks like of like a marionette. But what demonic puppetmaster is pulling the strings? Oh God he's worse after he's stopped. He's very sweaty too - and a medic is giving him oxygen! WTF? OK, commercial time. The teaser for the next segment has more shots of Sex, who I now see is wearing gardening gloves. They seem to give him a better grip on the floor. Does anyone else think Sex looks like David Duchovny on a really bad day? 8:21 Girl in a green shirt I won't post her name to prevent malicious Googling. That and I forgot to type it because I was cringing in pain. Well, I can cross dance lessons off my "to-do list" if that's the result. Anya and Pasha Wow, what is it with all these sexy Russian dancers? I really hate Pasha's jeans though. Perhaps they got damaged when Anya forced him to come to the audition. Yes, Pasha is the boy! They're going straight to Vegas and they deserve it. 8:29 Lots of unnamed people are going to Vegas! We only get brief glances at their auditions, but some of them look pretty awesome. Heather Zampier She has lots of body art, including the phrase "To Breathe is to Dance" tattooed on the back of her neck, along with some unfortunate skin lesions. She is dancing to prove her doctors wrong! They said she would never dance again after hip surgery! She has some skills, but not a lot of ooomph. As Randy might say, "it was just aiiight for me". But she's going to Vegas! See, doctors are stupid. More footage of Dancin Derrick. He is seriously disturbed. And still, no Sex. 8:43 Jenna Dejosia Another person who has a tattoo to prove she loves dance. Well, she can dance better than me, but that's not saying much. Oh God, she's had lessons too. And she gives lessons too. Nigel is very very upset. Chasmar Wells Oh dear. His arms are awfully long. Melissa Browne Eeek! The dancing version of Ugly Betty, according to Nigel. Hanna-Lee S. Knee socks! And another story of a dancer overcoming terrible injury to dance again! She's not straight to Vegas, but they keep her around to torture her further. I mean, see if she can learn choreography. 8:45 Liveblogging is negatively impacting my family life. Sigh. Well, I'll end here. But I reserve the right to liveblog again in the future, without warning!

OK, I've been blogging since 2004, and I have been meme-tagged for the FIRST TIME EVER! Can you believe it? Thanks, Emily. I will be delighted to share seven random things about myself. I warn you, these are not going to be very juicy because I make it a policy to be rather anonymous around here. 1. I hate driving. I didn't get my driver's license until I was 18 years old, by which time my parents had already bought me a car. I'm not sure what my problem is, perhaps I don't like parsing all that data so fast. 2. There are only 2 foods I don't like: orange creamsicles and Hawaiian pizza. Everything else is fair game. Lock up your brie when I come to town! 3. I used to be a huge fan of Star Trek: the Next Generation. If you're wondering how I define "huge", let me just say I attended a Star Trek Convention, and composed a little fan fiction with a friend of mine. I also liked DS9 and Enterprise, but Voyager left me cold. 4. I won an award for being the best student in French in high school. 5. I am allergic to sunlight - I get a pricking, bumpy rash after about 10 minutes in bright sunlight. Fun! Luckily, sunblock does the trick, when I remember to put it on! This also explains why Seattle is my dream hometown. And explains the Star Trek stuff. 6. I have an iron-clad memory for entertainment trivia. I remember who starred in movies that I've never seen, and if I don't know the actor's name, I can usually name several other things they've acted in. This is a fun skill to have, but I wish I could remember things like, oh, science facts? 7. My favorite number has always been 73. Every blog I've been to recently has already done this meme, I won't tag anyone else. Plus I'm a little antisocial, that should be random fact #8.

Ha ha, remember than icky Designer Imposters perfume? It was sold in the drugstore checkout line, and promised to make its users smell like Giorgio (which smells pretty awful, in my opinion. I'd pay NOT to smell like that). Anywho... Not that I need any more yarn, but I was trolling the Webs yarn sale and accidentally clicked on Plymouth Boku. Hmmm.. Could this be the cheaper alternative to Noro Silk Garden we've all been looking for? At 99 yards/50 g, it's a little heavier than Silk Garden, but the colorways are startlingly similar. And at $4.29/ball, that's much tastier than Silk Garden. I especially lurve colorways 7,8,10,and 11. Edited to add: OK OK OK I can't stop laughing. If you like Sean John's Unforgivable, you'll love.... BRING IT! Oh ew ew ew. "Mmmm baby, is that Sean John's new body spray I smell?" "Oooooh you're so close baby, it's Parfums de Coeur 'Bring it'" "Awwww baby, why you have to do that? That's... that's... unforgivable."

For wrong, so very wrong. Don't click away before checking out the bottom right corner.

Oh yay, I successfully defended my dissertation! w00t! Thanks so much to everyone for their supportive wishes! I'm not totally relaxed, because I have just about 2 weeks to get my dissertation document edited, approved, signed, sealed, delivered to the graduate school in order to officially get my Ph.D. The thesis formatting folks at the graduate school are very much like the Knights Templar - they'll defend the sanctity of the 1.5" margin to the death. I went through the crazy formatting crusade (the 8th circle of hell) with my Master's thesis, so I'm prepared for all manner of page setup hanky panky. And animal sacrifices, if needed. "Oh, sorry, your Table of Contents has to be written in the blood of a she-goat. This appears to be sheep blood." "Damn. Would you accept my first born child instead?" My defense went fine, and there was a great turnout of my colleagues and friends, including Emily who I met through knitting although we haven't knit together for quite a while (must rectify that). I promise that there will be more posts and pictures in the coming days. My knitting pace is already picking up, so I will have some new sock pictures to share. * Pending submission of my thesis. That dulls the excitement, doesn't it?

I've had so many strange dreams in my time. (The kind where you're sleeping and see things, not the kind where you futilely hope to win the lottery) There was the one where I made out with Hugh Grant in the back of a school bus (nice!) and the one where I was shopping for wedding dresses and whoops! The shop was wiped out by a tsunami (eek!). Earlier this week I dreamed I was one of the final contestants on American Idol! My specialty was Harry Belafonte songs. And in my dream I got up on stage in front of that huge audience, and belted out "Scarlet Ribbons". The problem is, I can't sing any better when I'm unconscious than when I'm awake. Now why couldn't my subconscious cut me a break and let me be a fabulous singer, at least for one night? Who knows. In any case, the judges loved me! They sat there, drinking Coke, telling me that I was "da bomb" and "not utterly horrendous" and "looking beautiful!" I knew I sucked, but I also knew that sometimes, sucking is OK. I have learned the wisdom of Sanjaya. Sometimes dreams are cryptic. This is not one of those dreams. Later this week I'm defending my Ph.D. dissertation. No singing is involved, and I don't think an all-out suckfest is in the cards. (Oh, I pity the Googlers who get to this page looking for a suckfest) If Simon, Paula, and Randy could love my off-key "Scarlet Ribbons", I think my committee should like my decent analytic results. But that doesn't mean I can't use a few fingers crossed out there. Wish me luck, knitters! And crocheters too, if you must.