Much gnashing of teeth

Apparently of late my blog has become the place I vent. Here's another one.

Dear book club-
We had several good years together, but it's over. I remember how happy I was to find you, to be a part of a local group of intelligent women discussing interesting books. You led me to books I normally would not have read, and discussions with people I otherwise might never have known. We had good times for certain. I barely hesitated when you wanted things to get more serious and asked me to take over as group manager.

Things went well for a while, I was able to schedule meetings far enough in advance, we picked a whole year's worth of books at a time, it worked. Granted I spent endless hours compiling book blurbs and researching when they would be available in paperback (one woman in our group, part owner of a bookstore, decreed that we couldn't read books still in hardback, as it was bad for her business) and how many were available at the library. I know none of the other members realized how much work this was, or appreciated it, but just expected their reminder emails coming every month. I could deal with that.

But then things started to get bad. It was like twisting arms to get volunteers to host. People would change dates at the last minute, to nights I couldn't attend. Then things would get decided at the meeting I was not present for, and nobody would relay that information. I was out of the country on vacation, and sent emails to next month's 2 possible hosts before I left so I could have the info I needed to send the reminder when I returned, to no avail. (The "I knew you were on vacation, so couldn't send you an email" argument really only pissed me off, it didn't excuse anything because EMAIL SITS AND WAITS, not to mention that I checked it at least once a week even from another country.) Basically our communication was terrible. This, dear Book Club, as everyone knows, is a death knell for relationships.

After that debacle this spring, I had to bring it up to you. I had to tell you how stressful and frustrating our relationship had become for me; that it was bordering on toxic. You promised to change, and things did get better for a while. People volunteered to host again, and we went back to knowing several months' worth of books in advance, instead of picking next month's book at our meeting (which I hated). Things were okay, though I still felt undervalued and clearly like I was the bottom of the group totem pole. I understood that I had a different taste from the rest, though it hurt that I read their boring historical non-fiction tomes but nobody would finish the Christopher Moore or Terry Pratchett/Neil Gaiman books I suggested.

I'll admit that I also started to resent that we would talk about the books for about a half an hour, and then it was all Mommy Mafia discussions. Your kids and their football/ dances/ boyfriends/ soccer camp/ classes have nothing to do with the books we read, and don't interest me as much as they clearly interest you. If it's relevant, please discuss it, but last time was literally twice as long of a discussion about the special technology-based program at the high school and whether it's beneficial or will be funded next year than anything relating to the book. The fact that less than half of you ever finish the books doesn't help matters either.

But then it happened again. You changed the date of a meeting only a week away. You all have children in the same school who are understandably your priority, but surely you knew about the winter fundraiser/bazaar/pageant/whatever months ago and could have planned around it? Or maybe someone could have emailed me instead of informing me a few days before the reminder was to go out that you all discussed amongst yourselves and changed the date without even considering me?

Since I had to miss that meeting (it being on one of about 3 nights I actually had something planned that month- see if you'd asked ANY OTHER NIGHT would have worked, but you didn't bother to ask.) I was unsure what was going on this month. I emailed the person who hosted, and her response was, "I can't remember, it was so long ago." This after our laying out the rules this spring that if I miss a meeting, it's the host's job to email me with what happened. Normally we meet on the 3rd Thursday. My notes said we were meeting this Tuesday. The email from the woman hosting said "Wednesday." Confused, I call the host's mobile. Then I call her home number. Then I email her.

Finally I get an email today saying that GUESS WHAT? It's tonight. So yet again I get to send out a last-minute reminder, making me look bad. At least I didn't send out one with erroneous information (due to people neglecting to inform me of changes) like this spring. But it makes me angry, and I don't want to be angry. I don't want to have to go to a meeting where I secretly am bitter and have to bite my tongue. I don't want to try to organize people who are horribly disorganized and bad at communication. I don't want to be the person in charge of planning when I am the only person who never sees anyone outside of the meetings, and the last person anyone talks to when something changes. I need to cut the bad relationships out of my life, and you, dear Book Club, have become terrible.

That's it; it's over. I can't put up with this anymore. I'm certainly not being your planner anymore. Maybe I'll find a new group to discuss books with. Maybe I can take some time and later we can be friends- I'll come to your meetings if it's a book I want to talk about- but for now, I need a break.



PS- The fact that you all went to two other plays that two other members were in, but NOBODY came to mine was just another indication of how little you regard me.

Epic cookie-tastrophe

SO every once in a while I run across one of *those* recipes. The kind that sound tasty and innovative, but, when made, are a total fustercluck of horribleness.

This recipe is my latest example.

Eggnog cream-cheese filling in a ginger cookie? Sounds deliciously holidaytastic, right?

Well first of all, I'm expecting a retraction in next month's issue saying "Yes, you all were right, a 2-cup dry-ingredient to 2.5 sticks butter ratio is completely off."
So yeah, stickiest dough ever. A decent portion went down the drain, since I could not get it off the beaters.

Then chill the dough for 30 minutes, simple.
Oops, I read wrong, you were supposed to scoop the dough with a 2tbs scoop (right, like I have such a useless utensil taking up drawer space?) and THEN refrigerate them. Ok, they should be easier to scoop now that they're chilled anyway. Except that it's still the stickiest dough ever, except for the very outer layer, which is hard like, well, refrigerated butter.

But anyway, I scooped, quickly realizing that I DID NOT have enough dough to make 24 cookies. Re-arranged and scooped much smaller, more like 1 Tbs each. Still ended up with only 18 balls. Alright... now I'm supposed to refrigerate them. WHO HAS ROOM IN THEIR FRIDGE FOR 2 COOKIE SHEETS? Not me, that's for sure.

Rigging something involving beer fridge, chest freezer, and other freezer, I chilled dough and filling (which never really got firm). Once firm, I smooshed the sticky balls into volcanoes, with difficulty. Spooned in filling, with more difficulty. Attempted to "close tops to form a kiss" HAH! NOT POSSIBLE! The filling squishes out and the cold dough won't close over it.

Gave up, left cookies as volcanoes-full-of-lava. Put trays in oven for 15 minutes, wherein the dough melts (being half butter), and cookies spread all over the parchment. Rotate pans, as directed, noting that they are already fairly done. Cook another 5 minutes (10 still to go) and notice the edges are getting very brown. Remove from oven and transfer to rack.

Later, taste. WTF, THEY AREN'T EVEN THAT GOOD!!! The cookie parts themselves are like crackers, they have so little sugar, so if you get a bit without filling it's worthless. All together as intended they are... decent. Not even remotely worth all the struggle and mess.

EPIC FAIL, CAKESPY! Worst recipe I've made in ages.