It is one month shy of Shi-shi’s 5th year with me (Shi-shi, the Mitsubishi that is). I never really liked shi-shi much. It was probably all due to the series of tragic events that occurred, resulting in my needing to buy a new car.
But still, my issues aside, she kept me safe, warm and mobile for many years, through many seasons and road trips. Even Sammy couldn’t break her.
Last night as I transferred 5 years worth of junk from her trunk to the trunk of my new yet-to-be-named vehicle, I felt a little sadness.
Only a little sadness though. I stepped back and admired my new vehicle, the moonlight reflecting on the black exterior, the warmth of the buttery leather seats inviting me in, the pride of the deal I secured….I think angels broke into song at that moment.
As I started to leave, the salesmen handed me a gift basket as a thank you. Right there with that little gift, he just put the cherry on top of my happiness, named my blog post, and put the final nail in shi-shi’s coffin.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Stess...
I'm sure you've noticed my absence. I've been overwhelmed with the flood of emails asking if I'm ok, people desparately missing my witty prose, looking for a littlebit of humor each day. Ok, not so much. I might get a passing comment from a family member but the rest of you...Well, not really sure there is a 'rest of you'. Anyways, I've been busy. I actually billed 70 hours last week. That was 70 hours from Sunday to Friday. After doing my time sheet, I realized why my body feels like someone dragged me through the mud and threw me against a wall.
I've also discovered that when I don't have time to go the gym to release stress, my alternative outlet has been in the kitchen. Sunday nights have been the only time I can find, which works out perfectly to prepare for calendar shattering week ahead. I will asses the fridge and pantry, head to the store if needed, and start cooking.
My base of recipes is limited, especially in comparison to the culinary talent that is embedded in most every cell of my family tree. I am on another branch. Honestly, its not really about the end result. Husband is pretty easy to please. And because I grew from the same culinary seed, I'm not burning or ruining too many things. Instead, it's the mindless multitasking, getting my hands dirty, making a mess and ultimately ending up with a finished product.
It probably has something to do with control. It usually does with me. All day long, I'm running in cicles, not controlling the fact that there is no satisfactory resolution.
Either way, you can bet that there is a direct corelation between Husbands waistline and my work environment.
I've also discovered that when I don't have time to go the gym to release stress, my alternative outlet has been in the kitchen. Sunday nights have been the only time I can find, which works out perfectly to prepare for calendar shattering week ahead. I will asses the fridge and pantry, head to the store if needed, and start cooking.
My base of recipes is limited, especially in comparison to the culinary talent that is embedded in most every cell of my family tree. I am on another branch. Honestly, its not really about the end result. Husband is pretty easy to please. And because I grew from the same culinary seed, I'm not burning or ruining too many things. Instead, it's the mindless multitasking, getting my hands dirty, making a mess and ultimately ending up with a finished product.
It probably has something to do with control. It usually does with me. All day long, I'm running in cicles, not controlling the fact that there is no satisfactory resolution.
Either way, you can bet that there is a direct corelation between Husbands waistline and my work environment.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
To Do:
Sometimes I notice how clearly I am like my mother. Other times, I’m my father’s daughter through and through.
As hectic as my life has been lately, made apparent by the lack of blog posts, there is one thing that keeps me sane. I know this thing, weather nature or nurture, came from my Father.
I make lists.
Making a list is my lame attempt to lasso all the ever-changing aspects of my life and pin them down in one place, so I don’t have them spinning in my brain.
I used to make many different lists, see the list below:
• To do’s at work
• To do’s at home
• Grocery Lists
• Cleaning Lists
• Gift lists – birthday, Christmas or other.
As of late, nothing in my life even exists unless it is on paper. I’ve been so busy lately that I can’t keep a single thought in my head. Husband will tell me we need something at the grocery, but before he even finishes his sentence, I blurt out “add it to the list.”In this frazzled state, I can’t even been counted on to remember what he said by the time I’ve got pen to paper.
The smartest thing I’ve done recently is to consolidate the many lists to one notebook. This notebook is mostly my work notebook, but in the back section I keep a running tally of all the personal things I can’t get to because of the preceding work lists.
Currently this ‘personal’ section of my list reads as follows:
• Stamps
• Laundry
• Clean house
• Yard-clean up
• Fix bathroom light
• Go to the grocery
• Workout! (there really is an exclamation mark)
• City taxes
Some of the items above even have sub-lists, like cleaning the house and grocery lists. Somewhere lost in my mess of loose paper’s exists a list with deck stripping and staining supplies to get at Lowes. I can only remember this because it was written down. If I can’t find the list, chances are the deck will not get repaired this summer. Notice how working out falls only above city taxes. Oh and fixing the bathroom light has been on one list or another for over a year. Need to get serious about that one.
All in all, I thank my mom for my ambition, and my dad for the skill to keep that ambition organized.
As hectic as my life has been lately, made apparent by the lack of blog posts, there is one thing that keeps me sane. I know this thing, weather nature or nurture, came from my Father.
I make lists.
Making a list is my lame attempt to lasso all the ever-changing aspects of my life and pin them down in one place, so I don’t have them spinning in my brain.
I used to make many different lists, see the list below:
• To do’s at work
• To do’s at home
• Grocery Lists
• Cleaning Lists
• Gift lists – birthday, Christmas or other.
As of late, nothing in my life even exists unless it is on paper. I’ve been so busy lately that I can’t keep a single thought in my head. Husband will tell me we need something at the grocery, but before he even finishes his sentence, I blurt out “add it to the list.”In this frazzled state, I can’t even been counted on to remember what he said by the time I’ve got pen to paper.
The smartest thing I’ve done recently is to consolidate the many lists to one notebook. This notebook is mostly my work notebook, but in the back section I keep a running tally of all the personal things I can’t get to because of the preceding work lists.
Currently this ‘personal’ section of my list reads as follows:
• Stamps
• Laundry
• Clean house
• Yard-clean up
• Fix bathroom light
• Go to the grocery
• Workout! (there really is an exclamation mark)
• City taxes
Some of the items above even have sub-lists, like cleaning the house and grocery lists. Somewhere lost in my mess of loose paper’s exists a list with deck stripping and staining supplies to get at Lowes. I can only remember this because it was written down. If I can’t find the list, chances are the deck will not get repaired this summer. Notice how working out falls only above city taxes. Oh and fixing the bathroom light has been on one list or another for over a year. Need to get serious about that one.
All in all, I thank my mom for my ambition, and my dad for the skill to keep that ambition organized.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Littlebit Throwback
So last week I had a birthday three decades in the making. After seeing so many of my friends duped into surprise parties I decided to circumvent the situation by planning my own party.
I didn’t want to just have a regular party – I wanted to celebrate the the kid inside myself that I am determined to foster. So I decided to throw a roller-skating party, but not just any roller- skating party, an 80’s roller- skating party.
Husband and I planned to rent out the entire rink so childlike family and friends could enjoy themselves uninhibited. I knew that some people would need some encouragement, which was provided by Biscuit in the form of a Keg. Turns out everyone was as eager as myself to reclaim the days of pre-adolescent fun.
It was an awesome day. I started by going to get my hair cut. Since I was there, why not get my couife professionally styled for the evenings’ theme. So the fun began. Our laughter grew exponentially by the rate of hairspray being used. By the time I left, my hair was a height only respectable in the 80’s. It swept the roof of the car on the drive home.
I was only home an hour or so before my college roommates showed up, hands full of beer, sparkling wine and general randomness. I was so happy to have them there early so we could catch up and get ready together. By the time Padre and Momma T got there, we were in full 80’s regalia. It only took a whisper to get Momma T in on the 80’s dress. We scrounged up some clothes, caked on the makeup and through a fog of hairspray she emerged. Half of the fun is in the prep!
Once at the rink, we strapped on some skates, pulled up our leg warmers and got started. It was a great time. Padre had me a little worried at first but by the second time around the rink, he was a pro.
There were a handful of people that no matter how much they tried, spent more time on the ground than on skates, Jenna being one of them. I think they had fun trying though. (Side note: I found out this week that my new BOSS broke her arm at the party. Pain was not the impression I was hoping to make.)
Somewhere in the haze of laughter, neon colors and friends, there was a slideshow of pictures of me. It was the first time I realized my age all night. It was scene after scene of awful hairstyles and bad clothing, but I was always smiling. What a charmed life I’ve been lucky to have.
Oh and if having a 20 min slide show of pictures of ME, at a party thrown by me for MY birthday wasn’t vain enough, my favorite part of the night was when everyone gathered around to sing happy birthday. Monkers brought a beautiful, diet demolishing cake, topped it with sparklers and presented it to me. Oh how I love attention!
Before I knew it, the night was over. We trucked back to our house for afterhours, remaining keg in tow. I wasn’t ready to let the night end, neither was my hair.
Eventually I collapsed into bed. The next morning, the hangover was eased by full house of friends and family, eager to relive the details of the night before over an omelet.
A picture of "the hair" per request from The Good Cook. It had started to fall slightly if that gives you any indication to the original height:
I didn’t want to just have a regular party – I wanted to celebrate the the kid inside myself that I am determined to foster. So I decided to throw a roller-skating party, but not just any roller- skating party, an 80’s roller- skating party.
Husband and I planned to rent out the entire rink so childlike family and friends could enjoy themselves uninhibited. I knew that some people would need some encouragement, which was provided by Biscuit in the form of a Keg. Turns out everyone was as eager as myself to reclaim the days of pre-adolescent fun.
It was an awesome day. I started by going to get my hair cut. Since I was there, why not get my couife professionally styled for the evenings’ theme. So the fun began. Our laughter grew exponentially by the rate of hairspray being used. By the time I left, my hair was a height only respectable in the 80’s. It swept the roof of the car on the drive home.
I was only home an hour or so before my college roommates showed up, hands full of beer, sparkling wine and general randomness. I was so happy to have them there early so we could catch up and get ready together. By the time Padre and Momma T got there, we were in full 80’s regalia. It only took a whisper to get Momma T in on the 80’s dress. We scrounged up some clothes, caked on the makeup and through a fog of hairspray she emerged. Half of the fun is in the prep!
Once at the rink, we strapped on some skates, pulled up our leg warmers and got started. It was a great time. Padre had me a little worried at first but by the second time around the rink, he was a pro.
There were a handful of people that no matter how much they tried, spent more time on the ground than on skates, Jenna being one of them. I think they had fun trying though. (Side note: I found out this week that my new BOSS broke her arm at the party. Pain was not the impression I was hoping to make.)
Somewhere in the haze of laughter, neon colors and friends, there was a slideshow of pictures of me. It was the first time I realized my age all night. It was scene after scene of awful hairstyles and bad clothing, but I was always smiling. What a charmed life I’ve been lucky to have.
Oh and if having a 20 min slide show of pictures of ME, at a party thrown by me for MY birthday wasn’t vain enough, my favorite part of the night was when everyone gathered around to sing happy birthday. Monkers brought a beautiful, diet demolishing cake, topped it with sparklers and presented it to me. Oh how I love attention!
Before I knew it, the night was over. We trucked back to our house for afterhours, remaining keg in tow. I wasn’t ready to let the night end, neither was my hair.
Eventually I collapsed into bed. The next morning, the hangover was eased by full house of friends and family, eager to relive the details of the night before over an omelet.
A picture of "the hair" per request from The Good Cook. It had started to fall slightly if that gives you any indication to the original height:
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Dreaming of sugarplums, doughnuts and baked goods
So in an attempt to shed some pounds, I’ve been eating less sugar. It’s been working so far. The only problem is that I dream about sweet baked goods-warm Krispy Kremes, pancakes smothered in warm maple syrup, or the ultimate, moist chocolate cake with buttermilk chocolate icing. At the grocery store, I find myself standing comatose in front of the bakery case.
The only way I am able to survive is to indulge that desire every once in a while. The danger is that indulging can quickly turn to binging.
To deal with my raging, all consuming sweet tooth, I’ve decided to make something myself. It needed to have some sugar to calm the craving while still keeping the diet in the driver’s seat.
From my FAVORITE cookbook, Thank you Ellie Krieger, I found a Ricotta cheesecake recipe, where I cut some of the sugar with Splenda. For the topping, balsamic vinegar cooked down to a syrup and tossed with ripe red strawberries. It turned out great!
Here’s hoping I can hold off the sugar beast at least until my birthday when I plan on binging on whatever delicacy Monkers cooks up.
The only way I am able to survive is to indulge that desire every once in a while. The danger is that indulging can quickly turn to binging.
To deal with my raging, all consuming sweet tooth, I’ve decided to make something myself. It needed to have some sugar to calm the craving while still keeping the diet in the driver’s seat.
From my FAVORITE cookbook, Thank you Ellie Krieger, I found a Ricotta cheesecake recipe, where I cut some of the sugar with Splenda. For the topping, balsamic vinegar cooked down to a syrup and tossed with ripe red strawberries. It turned out great!
Here’s hoping I can hold off the sugar beast at least until my birthday when I plan on binging on whatever delicacy Monkers cooks up.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Wishing I had some content
Sorry I've been so absent lately. The new job has all of my focus lately. Plus the weather has been so gray, I've been without any positive disposition.
I guess I'm waiting for the snow to stop, so I can come out of hibernation be filled with sunshine and inspiration.
Here's to waiting. And more importantly to Spring.
I guess I'm waiting for the snow to stop, so I can come out of hibernation be filled with sunshine and inspiration.
Here's to waiting. And more importantly to Spring.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Book Review: The Gastronomy of Marriage: A Memoir of Food and Love.
My new job has me traveling more often. While the trips can be exhausting, one of the benefits I’ve found is the time to read.
With so many meetings, schedules to keep, and general running around – I’ve come to look forward to that quiet time on the plane, when I can bend back the spine of a book, forgetting all the stresses my day of travel has already created.
My most recent read was a Christmas gift from Husband. He saw a review somewhere and thought I might enjoy it. He was right.
The book per Amazon:
“First-time memoirist Maisto turns out a subtle valentine to cooking and New York City life in this chronicle of two foodies in love. Maisto is a charming writer with a keen wit and sense of setting, whether describing tennis in her beloved Brooklyn neighborhood, or reluctantly making Jell-O for her fiancé.” The review continues but I disagree with the rest.
While it took me a while to get into the rhythm of the book, I thoroughly enjoyed it. As with most memoirs, I am curious how the author’s life has changed since publishing. Did the people she wrote about ever feel misrepresented? Has she had much success with this book? What is she doing now?
There was something that I can’t exactly put my finger on that I related to within the book. Her story is not similar to mine. Maybe it is the similar life stage, the goal to make the best of a new marriage and a small kitchen.
Then there was the food. Not over-flowery descriptions, but clean and true to the flavors. Her descriptions of beautifully simple Asian flavors and the hearty Italian meals never seemed to compete, each having its place on the palate.
I was also pleasantly surprised to find the author on twitter. Even more delighted that she was so approachable.
I am the first one to pass on books to my friends, except in this case. There are RECIPIES in this book. For that reason, if you are so inspired, you’ll have to buy it my friends.
As for a recommendation, I’m not sure that you will find the same kinship in this
book, but if you’re like me, you’re always looking for new titles to discover.
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