so this week was doppleganger week on facebook. how did this happen? is this just another way for celebrities to make us feel envious? probably so, and it's genius.
one by one, people started to change their profile pics - rachel bilson, anne hathaway, eva longoria, matt damon, etc. all beautiful people. so i thought, i wonder who i look like?! have i ever been compared to anyone? well, let's see in high school i was compared to teri hatcher during her superman days with dean cain. but let's be serious, teri hatcher now - shriveled...old...desperate. yeah, i'm going to say, there's no resemblance.
i turned to google and found myheritage.com. ok, perfect. let's see who i resemble......
1. vanessa marcil...ok, not sure she counts since i only know her from general hospital. and the last time she was on that was when i was in high school. i think we both have a mole and that's it.
2. maria menounos. really? she's a celebrity?
3. anne hathaway. that's sweet. but i don't have disney eyes...although i did date someone i think may have been a criminal.
4. beyonce. interesting. she's gorgeous. she's a diva. this sounds right.
5. jessica alba. omigosh, thank you. i'm so flattered. really? ok, if you're sure.
6. halle barry. alright, now you're just lying to my face.
not bad, right? i'm liking this. ok let's do another pic.
annnnnnnnnnnnnnnd...............
7. tommy lee jones.
ok. game over.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
i don't think you're ready for this jelly...
getting married is wonderful. going on a three week honeymoon is amazing. gaining weight from said honeymoon, lacks in awesomeness.
so before the wedding i was a workout fiend...wake up, workout, go to the office, come home, workout, go to bed. my very own two-a-days. i was like an "at-heat-stroke-risk" texan high school football player. i was on a strict nutrition plan and somehow i managed to stay consistent without throwing myself in front of oncoming traffic or passing out on a treadmill a la dj tanner (full house reference for those ignorant folks who claim to have never watched that show). the wedding came, my dress fit, i felt amazing, and then i was wisked away to italy and greece for three glorious weeks (my life sounds tragic, i know). our meals resembled episodes of man vs. food, more than they were normal dinners for humans. but who cares, i was honeymooning. i was blissful. my clothes were too big for me anyway.
that came to an end.
i gained about 9 lbs on that trip (all worth it) until i realized i had to workout to get rid of the poundage. now, i was never heavy to start with, although i did put on about 15 pounds in the 3 years i dated my husband. but far from obese, morbidly or otherwise. and for the wedding i dropped that love weight and then some.
so here i was, back to reality and i decided, you know what, i'll sign up for bootcamp. my trainer, who i worked with during the wedding (i'm not some hollywood glamazon who has a full-time trainer), was leading the class and i figured why not. the primary drawback was that it was at 6am twice a week...but twice a week? i could manage.
so, week 1 of bootcamp. i was in class ready to go. the warm up - easy. the first 30 min - cake. god, this is bootcamp? and then came our drills -- races, suicides, weird jumps -- over and over again. i finally realized what it must feel like to be a 400 lb woman on the biggest loser. 5 more minutes and i would have been throwing up in the corner and crying...you know, standard biggest loser workout. (god, they're always crying, aren't they? but then again if jillian michaels was in my face calling me a fatty, i'd be in tears too).
week 2 of bootcamp. we ran stairs. i mean do i need to say more than that? it was as awful as it sounds. maybe i have sports-induced asthma. you know, from all those sports i play. still no vomiting, which is a plus.
week 3 of bootcamp. we did stations. my least favorite - jump rope. how is it that i can go to spin class for 90 min but 1 min intervals of jump rope are pure torture? and as if i need more reason to hate jump ropes, on my way out of class (i leave early to go to spin immediately afterward bc i'm psychotic), i was whacked in the arm by someone jump-roping. insult to injury...or perhaps in this case it was injury to insult? who knows? i hate jump ropes.
well, i only (only! ha!) have 5 more weeks of bootcamp to go. i'll keep you posted on the vomit watch but in the meantime, i've lost 4 lbs. take that italy!
so before the wedding i was a workout fiend...wake up, workout, go to the office, come home, workout, go to bed. my very own two-a-days. i was like an "at-heat-stroke-risk" texan high school football player. i was on a strict nutrition plan and somehow i managed to stay consistent without throwing myself in front of oncoming traffic or passing out on a treadmill a la dj tanner (full house reference for those ignorant folks who claim to have never watched that show). the wedding came, my dress fit, i felt amazing, and then i was wisked away to italy and greece for three glorious weeks (my life sounds tragic, i know). our meals resembled episodes of man vs. food, more than they were normal dinners for humans. but who cares, i was honeymooning. i was blissful. my clothes were too big for me anyway.
that came to an end.
i gained about 9 lbs on that trip (all worth it) until i realized i had to workout to get rid of the poundage. now, i was never heavy to start with, although i did put on about 15 pounds in the 3 years i dated my husband. but far from obese, morbidly or otherwise. and for the wedding i dropped that love weight and then some.
so here i was, back to reality and i decided, you know what, i'll sign up for bootcamp. my trainer, who i worked with during the wedding (i'm not some hollywood glamazon who has a full-time trainer), was leading the class and i figured why not. the primary drawback was that it was at 6am twice a week...but twice a week? i could manage.
so, week 1 of bootcamp. i was in class ready to go. the warm up - easy. the first 30 min - cake. god, this is bootcamp? and then came our drills -- races, suicides, weird jumps -- over and over again. i finally realized what it must feel like to be a 400 lb woman on the biggest loser. 5 more minutes and i would have been throwing up in the corner and crying...you know, standard biggest loser workout. (god, they're always crying, aren't they? but then again if jillian michaels was in my face calling me a fatty, i'd be in tears too).
week 2 of bootcamp. we ran stairs. i mean do i need to say more than that? it was as awful as it sounds. maybe i have sports-induced asthma. you know, from all those sports i play. still no vomiting, which is a plus.
week 3 of bootcamp. we did stations. my least favorite - jump rope. how is it that i can go to spin class for 90 min but 1 min intervals of jump rope are pure torture? and as if i need more reason to hate jump ropes, on my way out of class (i leave early to go to spin immediately afterward bc i'm psychotic), i was whacked in the arm by someone jump-roping. insult to injury...or perhaps in this case it was injury to insult? who knows? i hate jump ropes.
well, i only (only! ha!) have 5 more weeks of bootcamp to go. i'll keep you posted on the vomit watch but in the meantime, i've lost 4 lbs. take that italy!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
dial m for murder
about a week and a half ago marked a huge dent in my 2010 inner peace. each year, i figure i start with a certain amount of inner peace...a glass half full sort of thing. and throughout the year, small (and large) annoyances deplete the supply. so there i was, jan 2010, ready for the new year, complete with my own set of resolutions (one of which is to be more patient..remember this because it will tie into the story).
on a friday morning, i decide to work from home and am sitting on my couch with my laptop typing away on a report (yes, apparently high school student is my occupation). anyway, my cell phone rings. a quick glance reveals a 702 area code. that's weird. where the hell is 702? oh well, it is probably someone from the office on their cell or something. so i ignore it. ha, kidding. no, i answered it. and it was some guy, who by the way slaughtered my name, asking if i'd be interested in an online degree. "no," i said, "i have no interest. how did you get this number?" he said, "you uh...filled out some form online." hmmm, descriptive. "no, i didn't fill out any forms online. nice try stupid" (i didn't say the "nice try stupid" but it was implied in my tone). "don't call me," i said and hung up. 1 hour later the phone rings. 704 area code. i answer and same thing. 1 hour later, phone rings, 710 area code. same thing. 1 hour later, phone rings. this time i pick up and just hold down a button hoping to deafen the caller. apparently, it didn't work because they called back...every hour, for the next 8 hours.
during this psychotic telemarketing assualt, i logged onto the national do not call registry and entered my cell phone. all the while, i was running through what i had done that week that could have possibly given these idiots my number and that's when i realized i ordered sweatpants from nike.com! damn it, that's what i get for trying to be comfortable, yet appear athletic and fit. so the rest of the day, when they called, i just told them i was on the national registry and that they were not legally permitted to call me AND they should delete my number. all this started out rather calm. but by call 7 or 8 i think i just screamed that into the phone. although i'm not sure if it was understandable as it mainly sounded like i was making tazmanian devil noises into the phone and then hanging up.
at 5 pm that friday, the calls ended. those telemarketers sure are quick to go home right at 5pm. i got one call on saturday and i thought that was the end of it. i was mistaken.
monday a.m., the calls began again. this time i decided to go back to my calm, rational, patient approach. so the first call, i answered. "hi this jean from....blah blah blah." "why hello jean. can i get your last name?" "um. why?" "well, i just wanted to know whose name to include in my complaint to the national do not call registry. you see jean, you're not supposed to call numbers on the registry. so i thought i'd report you." hang up. that seemed to go well. then i got another call and i just told them i was on the registry and to remove my number. then around 11, i got my final call. and this time, i went crazycakes. that call went a little something like this....
"hi, i'm calling from..."
"I DON'T CARE WHERE YOU'RE CALLING FROM! I'M ON THE DO NOT CALL REGISTRY, WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME! I'VE TOLD YOU IDIOTS TO STOP CALLING ME"
"m'am you need to calm down..."
"SHUT UP. SHUT UP AND YOU LISTEN TO ME. DO NOT F'ING CALL THIS NUMBER AGAIN"
"oh now, we are cussing?"
"YES" click.
i wish you could slam a cell phone. it doesn't have as much effect when i scream and then just hit "end call". that round of crazy ended the barrage of calls. maybe word got out that my number will connect you to a screaming hyena. in any case, it worked. and, it just goes to show you that patience gets you nowhere. ah, i love when i learn these life lessons, don't you?
on a friday morning, i decide to work from home and am sitting on my couch with my laptop typing away on a report (yes, apparently high school student is my occupation). anyway, my cell phone rings. a quick glance reveals a 702 area code. that's weird. where the hell is 702? oh well, it is probably someone from the office on their cell or something. so i ignore it. ha, kidding. no, i answered it. and it was some guy, who by the way slaughtered my name, asking if i'd be interested in an online degree. "no," i said, "i have no interest. how did you get this number?" he said, "you uh...filled out some form online." hmmm, descriptive. "no, i didn't fill out any forms online. nice try stupid" (i didn't say the "nice try stupid" but it was implied in my tone). "don't call me," i said and hung up. 1 hour later the phone rings. 704 area code. i answer and same thing. 1 hour later, phone rings, 710 area code. same thing. 1 hour later, phone rings. this time i pick up and just hold down a button hoping to deafen the caller. apparently, it didn't work because they called back...every hour, for the next 8 hours.
during this psychotic telemarketing assualt, i logged onto the national do not call registry and entered my cell phone. all the while, i was running through what i had done that week that could have possibly given these idiots my number and that's when i realized i ordered sweatpants from nike.com! damn it, that's what i get for trying to be comfortable, yet appear athletic and fit. so the rest of the day, when they called, i just told them i was on the national registry and that they were not legally permitted to call me AND they should delete my number. all this started out rather calm. but by call 7 or 8 i think i just screamed that into the phone. although i'm not sure if it was understandable as it mainly sounded like i was making tazmanian devil noises into the phone and then hanging up.
at 5 pm that friday, the calls ended. those telemarketers sure are quick to go home right at 5pm. i got one call on saturday and i thought that was the end of it. i was mistaken.
monday a.m., the calls began again. this time i decided to go back to my calm, rational, patient approach. so the first call, i answered. "hi this jean from....blah blah blah." "why hello jean. can i get your last name?" "um. why?" "well, i just wanted to know whose name to include in my complaint to the national do not call registry. you see jean, you're not supposed to call numbers on the registry. so i thought i'd report you." hang up. that seemed to go well. then i got another call and i just told them i was on the registry and to remove my number. then around 11, i got my final call. and this time, i went crazycakes. that call went a little something like this....
"hi, i'm calling from..."
"I DON'T CARE WHERE YOU'RE CALLING FROM! I'M ON THE DO NOT CALL REGISTRY, WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME! I'VE TOLD YOU IDIOTS TO STOP CALLING ME"
"m'am you need to calm down..."
"SHUT UP. SHUT UP AND YOU LISTEN TO ME. DO NOT F'ING CALL THIS NUMBER AGAIN"
"oh now, we are cussing?"
"YES" click.
i wish you could slam a cell phone. it doesn't have as much effect when i scream and then just hit "end call". that round of crazy ended the barrage of calls. maybe word got out that my number will connect you to a screaming hyena. in any case, it worked. and, it just goes to show you that patience gets you nowhere. ah, i love when i learn these life lessons, don't you?
Monday, January 4, 2010
2010 - the year of wisdom
so it took about a month but i have returned. it was the holidays though and, really, who has the energy to blog after eating their weight in cookies and sinking into a sugar coma? not this lady.
the month of december was filled with milestones...let's walk through them, shall we?
for the months/years leading up to this birthday, i kicked and screamed. i vowed not to get this old...but then i realized the alternative to not making it to this age was death and i started to change my tune. well, somewhat. i was still pretty grumpy about it. i mean aging is a package deal - it comes with fatigue, wrinkles, a snail-pace metabolism, and, in some severe cases, lameness. mainly though, my concerns centered on the wrinkles (i figure i'm usually tired, i've had bouts of lameness in my younger days, and i'm not morbidly obese yet). so, here i am, pulling on my face to see what it would look like if i had a facelift; researching botox and restalin and pricing out what routine injections would cost; and stockpiling an arsenal of creams, serums, and other anti-aging promises in a jar when, all of a sudden, something amazing happened.
i began playing around with the mac i bought my husband for christmas and started to edit some of my wedding photos. and that's when i discovered it. retouching. i'm going to say it again. retouching. there it was. the answer. who cares about aging if i can just retouch my photos? who needs to stress about wrinkles when i can wipe them away with a few mouse strokes? it's genius really. birthday, shmirthday. aging, schmaging. all i need is my mac (i wonder, if that earns me a sponsorship from apple?)
how's that for some wisdom? just a little something for you to nibble on in 2010. happy new year.
yum!
- i moved out of my place completely. it took almost three months but i'm finally out of there (and by "finally" i mean i sobbed as i was packing. goodbye, my first place).
- next, it was the first married christmas/first christmas out of the dc area. it was definitely different to not be around my family this year for christmas...especially my mom, who i am strangely obsessed with (but that is a topic for an entirely different post altogether)...but it was nice to spend time with my in-laws, who i actually like...a lot...i know, it's weird, right?
- and, lastly, the biggest milestone, of all, i celebrated my big birthday (i can't even bring myself to type the number, that's just how monumental it was).
for the months/years leading up to this birthday, i kicked and screamed. i vowed not to get this old...but then i realized the alternative to not making it to this age was death and i started to change my tune. well, somewhat. i was still pretty grumpy about it. i mean aging is a package deal - it comes with fatigue, wrinkles, a snail-pace metabolism, and, in some severe cases, lameness. mainly though, my concerns centered on the wrinkles (i figure i'm usually tired, i've had bouts of lameness in my younger days, and i'm not morbidly obese yet). so, here i am, pulling on my face to see what it would look like if i had a facelift; researching botox and restalin and pricing out what routine injections would cost; and stockpiling an arsenal of creams, serums, and other anti-aging promises in a jar when, all of a sudden, something amazing happened.
the birthday miracle
how's that for some wisdom? just a little something for you to nibble on in 2010. happy new year.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
it slices, it dices
so, today i chopped my finger. no, i didn't chop it off but i chopped riiiiight into it.
the morning started off pretty well. i went down to the social security office to change my name to my new married last name. it was surprisingly easy (i'm sure the dmv trip will more than make up that).
i went down there armed with my application already filled out, my marriage certificate in hand (omg, yes, it arrived!), and my passport. i walked in, took a number, and read my book while i waited (see, i was totally prepared....too bad the book is annoying and there's no way i'll finish it in 4 days. i'll explain later). they called my number and i went in while the woman there processed my application. i must have looked like a puppy because there i was with the biggest smile on my face and practially slobbering on myself. i told the woman that this was super exciting. i mean, people will finally be able to pronounce my name....oh and i'll feel very married. she then proceeded to tell me about her daughter who is my age and how she wondered if her daughter would ever get married. then it was just weird.
ok, the chopped finger. i decided to try this chickpea salad sandwich when i got back (which turned out pretty yums but perhaps had too much onion so that will need to be drastically reduced next time....seriously, i can still smell my own onion breath. way way way tooooo much onion). anyway, the recipe called for fresh lemon. i went to chop the lemon in half annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd instead i chopped my finger. i mean, it was not a little slice. it was CHOPPED. ok, my finger didn't come off but there was a lot of blood. AND i had to take advil. i'm a wimp. in any case, it's pretty fitting considering my last blog was all about my rice glob disaster. the only difference is that this time, i stabbed myself. alright, it was slightly less violent than that but it felt like attempted murder (on myself). anyway, i'm healing nicely, which is the most important part of the story....that and i'm wondering if i have any business in a kitchen or around sharp objects. but now when it's my turn tomorrow to talk about what i'm thankful for, i can say, i'm thankful for my finger being intact and having a husband who apparently sharpens his kitchen knives quite often.
alright, let me explain this boring book i'm reading. i've just joined a book club (yay!) only i put off reading this book and the book club is meeting next week....and omg, my book is due back to the library in 4 days. hence, having to carry it around with me and read it whenever i have a free minute. the worst part is that (aside from my brother calling me a golden girl when i told him this story..yes i have a library card. that doesn't not mean i'm an old lady) the book is boring. i don't even care what happens next. i'm debating if i should just read the last paragraph. i mean, i've read everything else in the past week but i can't. read. this. book. i mean i even re-read stories on people.com (ok, i mainly looked at the pictures. stop judging). that's the boring book story. who knows, maybe it'll pick up? books can completley pick up after page 150, right? yeah, wish me luck.
ok, one last thing. tomorrow is thanksgiving and i want to wish everyone a wonderful turkey day. i hope it is free of lemon-related (or, really, any citrus-related) bloodshed and snoozer books! enjoy your food coma.
the morning started off pretty well. i went down to the social security office to change my name to my new married last name. it was surprisingly easy (i'm sure the dmv trip will more than make up that).
i went down there armed with my application already filled out, my marriage certificate in hand (omg, yes, it arrived!), and my passport. i walked in, took a number, and read my book while i waited (see, i was totally prepared....too bad the book is annoying and there's no way i'll finish it in 4 days. i'll explain later). they called my number and i went in while the woman there processed my application. i must have looked like a puppy because there i was with the biggest smile on my face and practially slobbering on myself. i told the woman that this was super exciting. i mean, people will finally be able to pronounce my name....oh and i'll feel very married. she then proceeded to tell me about her daughter who is my age and how she wondered if her daughter would ever get married. then it was just weird.
ok, the chopped finger. i decided to try this chickpea salad sandwich when i got back (which turned out pretty yums but perhaps had too much onion so that will need to be drastically reduced next time....seriously, i can still smell my own onion breath. way way way tooooo much onion). anyway, the recipe called for fresh lemon. i went to chop the lemon in half annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd instead i chopped my finger. i mean, it was not a little slice. it was CHOPPED. ok, my finger didn't come off but there was a lot of blood. AND i had to take advil. i'm a wimp. in any case, it's pretty fitting considering my last blog was all about my rice glob disaster. the only difference is that this time, i stabbed myself. alright, it was slightly less violent than that but it felt like attempted murder (on myself). anyway, i'm healing nicely, which is the most important part of the story....that and i'm wondering if i have any business in a kitchen or around sharp objects. but now when it's my turn tomorrow to talk about what i'm thankful for, i can say, i'm thankful for my finger being intact and having a husband who apparently sharpens his kitchen knives quite often.
alright, let me explain this boring book i'm reading. i've just joined a book club (yay!) only i put off reading this book and the book club is meeting next week....and omg, my book is due back to the library in 4 days. hence, having to carry it around with me and read it whenever i have a free minute. the worst part is that (aside from my brother calling me a golden girl when i told him this story..yes i have a library card. that doesn't not mean i'm an old lady) the book is boring. i don't even care what happens next. i'm debating if i should just read the last paragraph. i mean, i've read everything else in the past week but i can't. read. this. book. i mean i even re-read stories on people.com (ok, i mainly looked at the pictures. stop judging). that's the boring book story. who knows, maybe it'll pick up? books can completley pick up after page 150, right? yeah, wish me luck.
sucky book.
ok, one last thing. tomorrow is thanksgiving and i want to wish everyone a wonderful turkey day. i hope it is free of lemon-related (or, really, any citrus-related) bloodshed and snoozer books! enjoy your food coma.
Friday, November 13, 2009
if you can't stand the heat...
as i get older, i'm coming to realize that there's a lot of things that people don't tell you. or maybe they did and i just wasn't listening (this is actually more likely). i grew up with a mom who loves to cook. LOVES. she calls me every night and talks me through whatever foodnetwork show she may be watching (it's usually barefoot contessa, in case you're wondering). i don't mind at all because i love ina garten (that's the contessa herself). but the conversation always turns to one main question from my mom...."what are you making for dinner?"
when i first moved out on my own, i was always cooking. i loved having my own kitchen and cooking tools. i loved trying out new recipes. it was all so magical and new. so when my mom and i used to have the "what are you making for dinner?" conversation we both always had something to contribute. eventually the novelty wore off. i have a handful of recipes that i make and have, for the most part, "mastered". even so, i still considered myself as someone who loves to cook.
then i met my husband. he enjoys cooking and is good at it...probably because he's more meticulous than i am and doesn't give up on a recipe if it has more than 5 ingredients. seriously, who has the attention span to deal with 20+ ingredients? by comparison, i'm an amateur. i mean, i know how to boil water, cook eggs, make toast. and, like i said, i have a handful of recipes that i enjoy making and turn out quite well (if i do say so myself). but my "what are you making for dinner?" conversations with my mom have evolved to "are you making a sandwich for dinner?" or "are you walking to whole foods for dinner?"poor poor disappointed mom. she still goes on about some amazing dish she's making (perhaps to inspire me...lead by example, as they say) but, i know one day, she won't even bother asking me "what are you making for dinner?"
but maybe what my mom doesn't realize is that it's not so much that i'm not inspired as it is my skills are rapidly unraveling into nothingness. it's like the flowers for algernon story i read in 7th grade (really, look it up). perfect example, last week we decided we'd make stir fry. awesome. i love stir fry. i know how to make brown rice. made it hundreds of times. have watched my mom make it thousands of times. easy. no problem. oh, but there was a problem. i followed the basic instructions (like i needed them!) and poured in the rice, added water and brought to a boil. only the water boiled a lot faster than i'd expected (gas stove). so i was like oops, i'll add more water. but then there was a lot of water. whatever, i've done this before, i thought. it's cool. so an hour later, there it was. stir fry with a side of oatmeal rice glob. seriously? i mean, based on my ethnic background alone, i should know how to make rice in my sleep. that night, as i served the oatmeal rice glob, i just thought that my grandmother is looking down on me in horror and shame. rice! glob! ugh.
my husband took one look at the rice and...threw up. ok, no he didn't. maybe a little. in his mouth. but i can't be sure. no, he took a look at the rice and just said, i'm sure it'll taste good. i watched as he added more and more soy sauce to the rice, insisting, it "tastes great with some extra soy sauce."
no one ever told me that my culinary intelligence increase was also only temporary. that i'd be powerless to prevent the change. that for a moment in time, my husband would actually be better at something than me.
so here i am with oatmeal glob and my memories of of culinary delights....meanwhile, my husband made cornchip crusted halibut with a salsa cream sauce two nights ago. honestly? what happened?
so with that, honey, what are you making for dinner? seriously, all this talk has made me hungry.
when i first moved out on my own, i was always cooking. i loved having my own kitchen and cooking tools. i loved trying out new recipes. it was all so magical and new. so when my mom and i used to have the "what are you making for dinner?" conversation we both always had something to contribute. eventually the novelty wore off. i have a handful of recipes that i make and have, for the most part, "mastered". even so, i still considered myself as someone who loves to cook.
then i met my husband. he enjoys cooking and is good at it...probably because he's more meticulous than i am and doesn't give up on a recipe if it has more than 5 ingredients. seriously, who has the attention span to deal with 20+ ingredients? by comparison, i'm an amateur. i mean, i know how to boil water, cook eggs, make toast. and, like i said, i have a handful of recipes that i enjoy making and turn out quite well (if i do say so myself). but my "what are you making for dinner?" conversations with my mom have evolved to "are you making a sandwich for dinner?" or "are you walking to whole foods for dinner?"poor poor disappointed mom. she still goes on about some amazing dish she's making (perhaps to inspire me...lead by example, as they say) but, i know one day, she won't even bother asking me "what are you making for dinner?"
but maybe what my mom doesn't realize is that it's not so much that i'm not inspired as it is my skills are rapidly unraveling into nothingness. it's like the flowers for algernon story i read in 7th grade (really, look it up). perfect example, last week we decided we'd make stir fry. awesome. i love stir fry. i know how to make brown rice. made it hundreds of times. have watched my mom make it thousands of times. easy. no problem. oh, but there was a problem. i followed the basic instructions (like i needed them!) and poured in the rice, added water and brought to a boil. only the water boiled a lot faster than i'd expected (gas stove). so i was like oops, i'll add more water. but then there was a lot of water. whatever, i've done this before, i thought. it's cool. so an hour later, there it was. stir fry with a side of oatmeal rice glob. seriously? i mean, based on my ethnic background alone, i should know how to make rice in my sleep. that night, as i served the oatmeal rice glob, i just thought that my grandmother is looking down on me in horror and shame. rice! glob! ugh.
my husband took one look at the rice and...threw up. ok, no he didn't. maybe a little. in his mouth. but i can't be sure. no, he took a look at the rice and just said, i'm sure it'll taste good. i watched as he added more and more soy sauce to the rice, insisting, it "tastes great with some extra soy sauce."
no one ever told me that my culinary intelligence increase was also only temporary. that i'd be powerless to prevent the change. that for a moment in time, my husband would actually be better at something than me.
so here i am with oatmeal glob and my memories of of culinary delights....meanwhile, my husband made cornchip crusted halibut with a salsa cream sauce two nights ago. honestly? what happened?
so with that, honey, what are you making for dinner? seriously, all this talk has made me hungry.
Monday, November 2, 2009
going to the chapel
after many many months, i'm back. you may be wondering what in the world i was doing. well i was....
getting married!
in the final months leading up to the wedding, i fell off the face of the planet and spiraled my way into wedding planning hell (it's sort of a pergatory. between earth and hell and one stoplight from the wedding). so my days were pretty much consumed with tracking my invitations (apparently my invitation designers decided this was a good time for them to go into hibernation.), getting invitations sent (holding my mom hostage till 1 a.m. to stuff and seal envelopes), finalizing flower arrangements (which in all took approximately 40 full hours of meeting time with the florist), assembling favor boxes (also known as burning my fingers with hot glue and/or gluing my fingers together), and all types of miserable things that no bride ever imagines having to do as a part of the final wedding weeks. it was so lovely...and special.
it was all worth it because in the end, we had one hell of a party.
so yadda yadda, in the name of the father, son, and blogging spirits...i'm back.
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