A Silent Watch

I realized today that my watch doesn't tick. I know this might sound strange; to some of you that I just noticed this after wearing it everyday for over a year, and to others that I expect watches to make a sound. My Nonni gave me one of her watches years ago. I used to wear it in high school all the time. It's a Bulova from the 50's or 60's and you have to wind it every day (most days I forgot to wind it and ended up wearing it as a bracelet). I love the ticking sound it makes and I have to say, it makes me sad that my new watch doesn't tick. There's something comforting to me about listening to a watch tick. Maybe it's the old-fashioned appeal that I love, the fact that you can hear the workmanship, the love that went into making it. Maybe it's just a slight obsession with gears and how things work. Or maybe it's a distrust in machines. If I can't hear it, how do I know it's working? I love my watch, but its silence unnerves me. Is that weird? I think it is.

Catching Up

Ok, I admit I've been really bad about blogging. When I logged in this morning (after receiving a harsh reprimand from my sister for not writing), I was ashamed to see my last post was in August! To all my faithful fans, I apologize. I promise I'll be better.

A lot has happened in the past few utterly sober months. Nonni passed away in early October. She had been in the hospital or rehab since August and just wasn't getting any better. She lived a good life though, and her funeral was beautiful, a lot of her friends and frenemies showed up to the viewing (yes, I said frenemies).

My job was to tell Italy. Let's just say telling Italy wasn't fun. I actually had to yell it to my Great Aunt because she couldn't hear me. It went like this:

Zia Carla: "IS EVERYTHING OK?!"

Me: "NO!"

Zia Carla: "NO?!"

Me: "NO, SHE DIED!"

Zia Carla: "SHE'S DEAD?!"

Me: "YES!"

I think Kurt was trying to keep a straight face while I screamed in Italian on the phone. Later, I tried to give my aunt my address. Since she does not speak English and my address is pretty much in English, I had to spell it letter by letter in Italian. There were many problems with this. The first is that the traditional Italian alphabet does not include the letters J, K, X, and Y and both J and X are included in my address. Second, Carlina can't see, hear, or write well at all. Third, my Italian isn't perfect. Fourth, Carlina's phone reception is grainy all the time (even though it's a landline). It was a nightmare. It took a full hour, interrupted by my pleadings to just let me send her a card with my address written on it (which I did anyway). I still don't think she got it right since I haven't received the letter and telegram she sent. That's right. A telegram. I have no idea what to expect from that since I didn't even know they existed anymore. I'll update you all on the world of telegrams if I ever receive one.

Moving away from the past and into the present, I just have to say, I love Fall. I always forget that. I was driving home yesterday and there was this beautiful pink tint to everything. I just wanted to stop time and live in that color forever. I think I love Fall more this year than ever because it seems like the leaves are changing slowly and staying on the trees longer than they did in recent years, which means I actually get to notice the beautiful colors. Or perhaps it's because my new job allows me more time to see them. I'm not sure. Either way, I've been loving the colors, the crisp air, the smell of fallen leaves. It makes me want to go back to school, or go to a football game, or a hayride, or curl up under a blanket in front of my nonexistent fireplace and drink tea. Or all of the above.

Needless to say, the landscape (and the fact that I've spent a lot of time indoors due to cold/rainy weather) have inspired me. I still feel like Kurt and I live in a college apartment, devoid of color or design. We need curtains, art on the walls, a bedspread, and seating. This weekend, I went through my study abroad pictures (since those are really the only artsy ones I've ever taken) and got a few printed for the frames I bought years ago. Our newly decorated living room wall looks good and I'm onto the wall behind our bed next. I've also decided to start painting more. I know, I know. I say this constantly, but it's time. I have plenty of time after work now for hobbies, although I usually end up sitting on my bum relaxing, or running around getting ready for the next day. I vow to paint more, if for no other reason than I need art to hang on the walls and I can't afford to buy any.

On my nightstand:

I've been REALLY bad about reading lately. Now that I have no commute, my reading time is gone, or rather, otherwise allocated. I did just finish Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins. This is the third book in The Hunger Games trilogy. I had been waiting for this book to publish since the moment I finished Catching Fire. I was a little disappointed by it and didn't love the ending, but it's worth the read to have an ending at all. I found Katniss to be annoying and weak in this book, when she had been so strong and confident in the prior books. The plot felt forced and lacking without the Hunger Games as a character. Don't get me wrong, I still enjoyed the book very much and I know my expectations were extremely high for this one, so it's not surprising that I was somewhat let down.

The next book on my "to-read list" is The Dive From Clausen's Pier. This is our newest book club pick that I plan to start reading this weekend. Stay tuned.

Amy Watch 2010: Update

UPDATE: I was released from the hospital on Sunday on the condition that I have my blood taken Monday morning to make sure the Coumadin levels in my blood were high enough (otherwise I would need to give myself a shot of Lovenox in the stomach). Sidenote - THERE WAS A PRISONER ON MY FLOOR THE ENTIRE TIME I WAS IN THE HOSPITAL. I had noticed the police officer sitting down the hall from my room and thought to myself naively It's so nice they have a security guard to make us feel safe. On the way out, Kurt informed me he wasn't there to make me feel safe, he was there to guard the inmate three rooms away from me. I was so happy he hadn't told me beforehand. In this case, ignorance was bliss.

The second I was released, Kurt and I hightailed it to Brigantine where our friends were waiting. "Amy Watch 2010" they called it. We came back early Monday morning and I got my blood taken, stressing how vital it was they conduct the tests TODAY because I need a shot TODAY if the levels aren't enough. By the way, it bothers me to no end that you have to go to 3 different places and speak to 3 different doctors for one thing, and none of them communicate. The doctors have all been wonderful, but that is frustrating. Speak to each other instead of through me. Because no one believes me! Twice in the hospital I repeated to my nurses what the doctor told me ("he said you can take the port out of my arm" and "he says I can go home") and both times they thought I was lying. I understand that some patients lie, but if everyone communicated a little better, we wouldn't have this problem. And I was telling the truth.

Anyway, I picked up the mail on the way back to the beach (yes we came home for about 30 minutes and drove the hour and a half back right away) and guess what was in it: my COBRA enrollment form. Turns out, COBRA is retroactive. I could've cried I was so happy to see that form. We'll see if it actually works since in my experience dealing with health insurance companies is never straightforward, but at least I'm covered somewhat. One problem down.

I've been waiting all week to hear about my lab tests. When I first was admitted to the ER, they took 6 vials of blood to run tests, looking for the usual culprits of blood clots - pregnancy, genetic predisposition, cancer (yes I didn't mention that one before - no need to scare everyone). The most likely was a genetic predisposition, so I was expecting that as my diagnosis; baby aspirin for the rest of my life, daily, self-administered shots of heparin everyday while pregnant, etc. I got the call today. My blood is completely normal - no genetic disorders, no predisposition for clotting, nothing. Relief does not even come close to the describing the emotion I felt. I was elated. The doctors think it was most likely the pill that caused it. Don't you love how they're never exactly sure? I was off the pill the second I was diagnosed with blood clots, so we're all good there. Just 6 more months of daily Coumadin, weekly blood tests, and absolute sobriety. It's funny how things have a way of working out.

Two Ricci Women, Two Hospitals

Over the past three weeks, I have spent more time in hospitals than ever before in my life. Three weeks ago, Nonni, whom you've read about before, was admitted to the hospital for a heart attack (a fact which she vehemently denies). Of course, her faithful sons, daughter-in-law, and granddaughters have visited almost every day. The visits have ranged from fearful and sad (it wasn't looking good in the beginning) to happy and nostalgic, and, now that she's back to her normal self, to frustrating and blood-pressure-elevating. I'm the only one in the family who speaks Italian, so of course it fell to me to call her sister in Italy with whom she speaks every day. Let's just say this part has been a nightmare. I don't speak Italian very well anymore and it's hard for me to understand her. I tell her to slow down and she speaks even faster. Over the past three weeks though, it's gotten easier to communicate with her and understand her. But she now calls me every day. I don't answer my phone when she calls because it'll charge me (I use a calling card to call her), so she leaves confused messages on my voicemail. My voicemail message is in English, naturally, so she doesn't understand it, doesn't realize it's my voice. I listened to her messages and wound up in tears, laughing hysterically. I heard, "Amy Ricci. AMY RICCI." She apparently thought my voicemail was an operator and was trying to get put through to me. I hadn't listened to her messages for a few days. I'd just call her instead, so when I listened, it all finally made sense. She had previously spoken of "la donna", the woman, whom she called. I just assumed I wasn't understanding her properly. "La donna" is me on my voicemail. I've just let it go. It's no use explaining a cell phone or voicemail to an 88-year old Italian woman.

All that aside, Nonni is doing much better. She's back to normal, back to fighting with nurses, doctors, and us. She believes one of her nurses is too nosy and is most likely trying to deport her (she merely asked where Nonni was from). She freaked out when a male nurse tried to help her and yelled at the female nurses for "just standing around laughing, doing nothing" (because men should never do work, ever). And now she's been kicked out of the hospital because she won't do the training they're asking her to do. That's right. KICKED OUT. I still can't believe she lasted as long as she did. Those poor nurses. I give them a lot of credit for dealing with her.

Now for my story. On Monday, I was visiting Nonni when out of nowhere my right arm swelled up like a balloon from shoulder to fingertips. Because my insurance doesn't kick in from my new job until September and because COBRA was too expensive, for this one month out of my entire life, I have no insurance. So, I decided to wait and see if it would remedy itself. Of course, and I'm almost positive, BECAUSE I have no insurance, it didn't. I went to the doctor on Wednesday and they ordered an ultrasound on my arm. Instantly, they found three blood clots, one in a deep vein, and two in superficial veins. The doctors are stumped. I'm a medical marvel apparently. Great. I was immediately sent to the ER where I was admitted to the hospital and placed on blood thinners. I felt so horrible for the doctors and nurses. It was just too much for me all at once. The thought of the cost without health insurance, the fear of the clots, and to top it all, spending my long-awaited beach vacation in the hospital, was just too much. I lost it. In my defense, I was also PMSing, so that didn't help. I couldn't stop crying and the poor nurses were tip-toeing around me the entire day until I could finally compose myself.

So, for the past three days, I've been in the hospital. Missing vacation sucks (I'm not even thinking about the money anymore), but the hospital hasn't been all that bad. Even though my left hand now resembles a pincushion, I've been stuck more than a dozen times in my stomach, arm, and hand, and I've been confined to one floor of a hospital in the middle of Trenton, it could've been worse. The hospital staff (I'm at Mercer Medical Center in Trenton) has been wonderful. From the check-in staff, to all of the nurses, orderlies, and doctors. They have been so nice and accommodating. If you ever have to stay in a hospital, come here. Of course, while everyone's been great, I can't wait to get out of here and hopefully never see any of them again. I'm hoping to go home today. I finally have internet so I'm blogging from my (comfy!) hospital bed. I'll be on blood thinners for the next 6 months which means no drinking, no falling, and no getting cut. Sounds like fun right? I find out this week what caused a healthy, 26-year old non-smoker to develop blood clots. The best-case scenario? My birth control pills. The worst? A genetic mutation. For now, I'm just hoping to get out of here today and head down to the beach to salvage what's left of my vacation at the shore. Blood clots be damned.

PS - Nonni thinks I've been stuck at work this whole time. No doubt she's angry with me for not visiting her, but telling her the truth would result in her making my father's life a living Hell until I'm out. So we're keeping this one from her. Shh.

Ode to My Sister

Today, my baby sister turns 21. Does it make me feel old? Yes. But am I proud of the woman she's become. Absolutely. I can't wait to take her out tomorrow night and have a drink with her not in the privacy of a friend's basement or at a family dinner, but out in public, at a bar. It kind of blows my mind a little. I'm sure there will be many drunken "I remember the day you were born!" stories tomorrow night. And I do. It was the best day of my life. The day my little sister and best friend came into my life. I love that I was old enough to remember the day she was born. I had been praying for a baby sister for years. I don't know what my parents would have done if she's had been a boy. She was instantly mine. I helped change her diapers, even took her to my Kindergarten class for show and tell - "S" for sister.

Sure, there were days when I'd manipulate her, boss her around, fight with her, (and those days still exist) but they would eventually bring us closer and I hope, help to make her the strong woman she is today (or so I tell myself). I spent my life watching her grow up, trailing along behind me, wanting to be just like me. Now, she's grown into herself, a beautiful, smart, young woman, who ends up taking care of me just as much I take care of her. I am the proudest big sister anyone could ever be.

Ok, I think that's enough sappiness for one post. I'm sure there will be much more tomorrow after we shared our first few "public" drinks together. Cheers to Amanda!

Stage Whispers and Strawberries

I have a new job. The commute to the city was getting tougher and tougher, both physically and financially, and I found a position at a skin care company in Princeton called NeoStrata, so I applied. When I was offered the job, I was told I needed to have a physical and drug test. Now, I have never done a drug in my entire life, so I wasn’t nervous about passing. However, the morning of my test, I was nervous beyond belief that I wouldn’t be able to pee. I was told I needed to fast before the test, so I scheduled a morning exam and didn’t eat or drink anything. Of course, that morning, in my starved 6:00am stupor, I hadn't remembered not to pee at home. When the nurse showed me how much they needed, I panicked slightly inside. Add to it the fact that I felt like a criminal, (I had to leave my purse outside in the hall and they shut the water off in the bathroom so I wouldn't dilute anything), it was a pretty stressful morning. Luckily, my bladder came through and I didn't have to disappoint the nurse.

The best part of the exam was the hearing test. Never in my life have I had a test like this. It took all my strength not to laugh throughout the entire thing. The nurse told me to stand facing the wall while she stood behind me. “I’m going to whisper a word to you and I want you to repeat it back to me.” My boss had forewarned me about this test so I thought I was prepared. I just wasn’t expecting it to be so funny. “Strawberries” the nurse said in a stage whisper. I repeated it, stifling giggles. This went on for 4 more words (“peaches”, “watermelon”, and so on) and then she told me cover one ear. Now, before covering my ear, I hadn’t really noticed the low humming noise coming from the various medical machines in the room. With one ear covered, the other was aimed directly at one of these machines, so the humming was amplified. Oh God. Would I be able to hear her over the humming? Would she think I was hard of hearing? I was getting myself all worked up and ready to fight this completely unscientific exam full force. Then I heard “Pumpkin” in her stage whisper, let out a breath, and gleefully repeated it back to her. Needless to say, I left the building feeling more than a little exhausted. I had catapulted through emotion after emotion in the span of about 30 minutes. Of course, I will always look back on my hearing test whenever I need a good laugh.

On my nightstand:

I just finished The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest by Stieg Larsson. It's the third and final book in the Millennium Series. It was incredible, just like the prior two (The Girls With the Dragon Tattoo and The Girl Who Played With Fire). If you haven't read these books, you need to. They're well written, suspenseful, intense and Larsson keeps you guessing until the final page. The chapters are short and flip flop between a multitude of storylines, intricately weaving arguably the most complete and complex stories I have ever read. I can't help but wonder how Larsson was able to keep track of it all. I read through each book quickly for two reasons. One: the chapters are short and swift and Two: I simply couldn't put them down. Usually, after reading them on the train, I'd look up for the first time since opening the book, and realize I was at Penn Station, and that my neck ached. Please, please read these. I cannot recommend them enough.

Now to finish our Book Club selection: The Kite Runner. For the first time in two and a half years, I actually have to make time to read! I'm kinda missing the commute now. Ok, not really.

An introduction

If you've ever met me, chances are you've heard a story or two about Nonni. Nonni is my grandmother. Nonni was born and raised in a tiny mountain village in Italy, and although she has lived in America for over 50 years, she has not adapted in any way, shape, or form to American life.

We have dinner at Nonni's house every Sunday. This Sunday, before lunch, my sister called to tell me she was bringing her friend to lunch. It's always fun when someone new meets the infamous Nonni. But this was something else altogether. My sister informed me that her friend is allergic to gluten and she would be bringing a salad to lunch so she would have something to eat. I couldn't believe my sister was subjecting her poor, innocent friend to this. This could not possibly go well. I got there early and set the table. I chose not to forewarn my grandmother about our guest, choosing instead to watch from the sidelines. It went something like this...

(just imagine Nonni with a thick Italian accent)

Amanda: Nonni, Lauren is allergic to gluten, so she brought a salad to eat.

Nonni: She's what?

Amanda: Allergic to gluten.

Amy: Allergic to flour. So she can't eat pasta.

Nonni: She doesn't like pasta? (to Lauren) You don't like pasta?

Amanda: No, Nonni, she's allergic. It makes her sick.

Nonni: I don't know about this.

Amy: She's fine Nonni. She has a salad.

Nonni: Well, she can eat meatballs.

Amanda: Yes. she can eat meatballs.

Amy: No, she can't eat meatballs. Your meatballs have bread crumbs which have flour. And she's allergic.

Nonni: So what is she going to eat?

Amanda: Her salad. Really Nonni, it's fine.

10 minutes later

Nonni to Lauren: Here, have some meatballs.

Amanda: Nonni, she CANNOT eat meatballs.

Nonni to Lauren: You don't like meatballs?

Dad: It's not that she doesn't like meatballs. She's allergic to the bread crumbs in them. They make her sick. She's fine Mom.

Nonni: Well, I'm sorry you can't eat anything. (I had wondered when the guilt was coming)

Meanwhile, Kurt sat back, clearly enjoying the ridiculous interaction. As we were leaving, I scolded my sister for subjecting her friend to Nonni. Her friend interjected: "Oh, I wanted to meet Nonni. I hear Amanda on the phone with her all the time and I just had to meet her."

Happy Memorial Day

Today I stepped back in time to 1950. Allentown is big on parades. The town will use any excuse to throw a parade. They're nothing big or over the top like Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. They're much smaller, charming, and old-fashioned. Like the one today. Today is Memorial Day and much preparation was taken for the parade. The streets were shut down, spectators set up chairs up and down Main Street, saving their precious spots, children sold glasses of lemonade for a nickel, and neighbors conversed and caught up over brunch buffets set up in driveways.

I woke up ten minutes before the parade started and hurriedly got dressed so I could watch. I walked up to the bakery for a pastry and some coffee and had to weave my way in between people waving American flags and dressed in red, white, and blue. I felt as if I had traveled back to a much simpler time. There's something so nostalgic about the American flag, and waving it makes me feel so proud of our country. It's like American pride is stitched right in there with the stars and stripes. I'm the first to say America isn't perfect, but watching our veterans march in the parade today, I wouldn't be anywhere else. I guess I haven't watched a Memorial Day Parade in years because in today's parade, I noticed the veterans for the first time: veterans from bygone wars marching next to veterans from the current war. It was a sobering sight for sure. That, coupled with the old-time cars, clowns, and waving flags, had me clapping and waving along with the rest of the town, seemingly oblivious to the harshness of the world, cocooned in the perfect world of Main Street, Allentown, NJ, USA. I even caught Kurt smiling a few times. It was the perfect combination of charm, simplicity, and patriotism to remind us of the men and women who have fallen in the name of our country.

Could You Be a Little Weak?

I was reading Marie Claire the other day and stumbled across a short article about a new DVD in Japan called Crying Girls. I was intrigued. Why on earth would someone want to watch a DVD featuring girls crying as they recalled sad moments in their lives; breaking up with a boyfriend, being yelled at by a boss, etc. I read on. It turns out, this DVD is meant to exhibit the "vulnerability" of women to help certain Japanese men feel more masculine. The DVD claims that men will not be able to resist the women's tears and sexy voices as they cry inconsolably to the camera. Disgusting.

The article goes on to say that in recent years, Japanese women have been asserting more independence in their lives. They expect to be treated as equals instead of as second-class citizens. How dare they. I think it's an amazing thing that women all over the world are empowering themselves, standing up for themselves, and becoming independent of men. But in a society where submissive, quiet women have been the norm, this is a major shift. The article quotes Hiroshi Ueno, an associate social psychologist at Tokyo's Meiji University, who says, "...modern women want to be treated as equals, and some men can't handle that." These men, who are incapable of handling strong, self-assured women, feel so emasculated that they need to watch DVDs like this to feel better about themselves.

This article made me sick to my stomach and incredibly angry. I wonder where these self-help DVDs were for the women who were oppressed and kept down for thousands of years. To these emasculated men, I say, It's time to grow up and learn to accept that women are your equals, your peers, your friends, because if you can't handle strong women, there's no place in society for the likes of you. Women around the world are becoming stronger by the day, and we won't bow down to you anymore.

Pressure

I read an article today in Elle about nose jobs. It presented the viewpoints of two women; one who regretted her choice to “fix” her nose, and one who was happy with the decision. Both were well-thought out and presented interesting points about plastic surgery and the pressure to be beautiful. I was surprised, however, that the anti-rhinoplasty opinion wasn’t represented. The article felt incomplete without it. I find many magazine articles to be superficial and so, disappointing, but I liked this one. I’m sure most girls struggle with the decision of whether or not to get a nose job at some point in their lives. I certainly did. Growing up, I hated my nose. I thought it was too big for my tiny face, accentuated by my equally hated glasses. I longed for the day when I could get it “fixed.”

I was a shy child. I was most certainly not that rare confident, outgoing preteen. I was awkward and felt that awkwardness through and through. I had friends, good grades, and was active in sports and extracurricular, but I still struggled with my looks and thought a new nose would fix that. I was actually a pretty cute kid, looking back. But I was seeing myself through the eyes of the insecure 12-year old I was, in a society that said beauty = good. I think most girls can identify, no matter what they looked like.

Somewhere along the way, I grew into my nose, or into myself, I’m not sure which. It’s not perfect, but it’s not bad either. Sure, there’s that little bump in the middle or the trademark McCormick ball at the end, but I’ve learned to accept it. From the front, I like it; from the side, I don’t. I really don’t like my profile, but still, I’d never change it. I can’t imagine what it must be like to wake up one day, look in the mirror, and see someone else’s nose. I think it would be unsettling.

Reading the points of view of those girls made me think about our society and the ways in which the pressure to be beautiful affects women. There is so much emphasis placed on beauty and youth, instead of experience and graceful aging. For some, surgery is a personal choice. Like one of the girls who realized after years of refusing a nose job, her large nose defined her, instead of the other way around. I respect that and understand it. It’s hard to emerge untouched from our society. I know I’m guilty of being superficial at times; I almost always wear some type of makeup and like nice clothes. But even more so than before, my goal is to accept my looks and myself for who I am. That means no botox or facelifts in 40 years and aging gracefully. Although I guess that’s easy to say when you’re wrinkle-free and under 30, so ask me again in 40 years. I hope my answer will be the same.

Food

Monday was the Phillies home opener and like any true Phillies fans, we had tickets. I love Phillies games. I love the atmosphere, the people watching (why do girls dress like strippers when going to a game?), and the food. Definitely the food. We tailgated all day leading up to the game and I had more than my share of ballpark food. Over the course of the day I had a porkroll and cheese sandwich, a hot dog, some of Kurt’s Schmidter (a cheesesteak with porkroll), and a sausage sandwich. I’m big into the sandwiches as you can tell. And I still feel gross from all of it. But how can I resist? The smell of the sausages, peppers, and onions lures me to the longest line at the park and blindingly stand there, not hungry at all, my willpower gone, thinking of nothing but that sandwich. Ballpark food is heaven, especially in Philly.

Since I ate my weight in sandwiches on Monday, and the only veggies I had were cooked in grease, served on a sausage, and probably lacking all nutrients, I decided that dinner tonight would be a salad. Kurt is in a weightloss competition at work and I am desperately craving healthy food, so I figured it was the perfect time to introduce him to the dinner salad. Tonight I made a romaine salad with red-skinned potatoes, bell peppers, cucumbers, and chicken. The dressing has both greek yogurt and white wine vinegar so it reminds me a little of the souvlaki I made a few weeks ago. I was craving something light and healthy and devoid of grease. This was perfect. And there's enough left for three lunches!

Now for the long-awaited review of Eno Terra. I know you’ve all been waiting with bated breath. Here it is: make a reservation now. The food was amazing, the atmosphere was amazing, the service was amazing. I can’t say enough about this place. I know I said my review would be partial and biased, but rest assured, it isn’t. Eno Terra appeals to all types. The dining room is relaxing and quiet, perfect for a romantic dinner. Almost every ingredient is local, appealing to foodies. The wine list rivals those of all the best enotecas. It was clear that the owners and chef paid strict attention to detail when designing this building and planning a menu. The menu changes monthly to accommodate seasonal ingredients. It’s small, but diverse. Before we ordered, the manager brought over two glasses of prosecco (sweet and not too dry) and a plate of sliced prosciutto and local cheeses. This was one of my favorite parts of the meal. The prosciutto was so thinly sliced it was translucent and the cheese paired well with it. We also had a bucket of fresh bread from their bakery, Witherspoon Bread Co. and a little plate of oil to accompany it. In the oil was butternut squash puree. I was skeptical at first. Butternut squash puree, in oil, on bread? It was incredible. We finished all of it. For an appetizer, I had the beef carpaccio. It was perfectly sliced and tasted fresh. For my entrée I had one of the specials: fluke stuffed with crab meat. It was flaky, a little buttery, and fresh. For dessert we had the Bent Spoon gelato trio which was perfect since we were entirely too full for a rich dessert. All in all, it was a great restaurant, with great food and great service. The prices aren’t bad. For the quality of food you’re being served, the prices are actually really good. But it’s definitely a special occasion restaurant. At least for us in this point in our lives. I will definitely be back for my next birthday!

Restaurant Week

This week was my own personal “Restaurant Week.” Last Friday I tried Five Guys for the first time. Last night was Yummy Sushi. And tonight is Eno Terra. All new restaurants for me. So, this week, you get some restaurant reviews to read, you lucky people you. Yummy Sushi is in the Robbinsville Town Center and for various reasons, I’ve never tried it. The name was one reason. I always assume that if something says yummy or tasty or good, it means it’s not. I know it’s silly, but I usually assume that a restaurant’s food should speak for itself. The clientele shouldn’t need to be told that it’s good. I learned last night that sometimes, a name is just a name. We walked in to a beautiful, dimly lit restaurant with dark wood paneling and dark brown leather seating. We were greeted by a friendly hostess and an even more friendly server. After being seated (in the most comfortable chair I’ve ever sat on in a restaurant), our server brought us wet naps, waited while we wiped our hands, and took away the now dirty wipes. Impressive, I thought. When I asked if they had iced tea, she pitched me bubble tea. Figuring I’d be adventurous, I tried the Mango flavor. It was decent. I probably won’t order it again with food since it’s a little heavy, but it was good. Different. The edamame was by far the best I’ve ever had. It was fresh and really juicy. I was brave and ordered an eel cucumber roll along with a philadelphia roll. The eel cucumber was amazing. Kurt suggested pairing it with spicy mayo and it was awesome. Kurt ordered a crispy scallop roll and that was amazing too. I’m not sure what the little things are that make “crisy” rolls crispy, but they’re really good. That roll was my favorite of the four we ordered. The atmosphere was quiet and relaxing and we had fun trying to name the songs (instrumentals only) playing in the background. The sushi was fresh and tasty and the server was very nice. All in all, despite my initial prejudice, Yummy Sushi was yummy.

Eno Terra review to come. Though since I work at it’s sister restaurant, you can expect it to be a little partial.


On my nightstand:

For my birthday, I asked for a few books that I’ve been wanting to read, but never had the time to pick up. Kurt gave me Wuthering Heights and Splendor, the fourth book in the Luxe series. I picked up the latter first knowing it would be a quicker read. Ever since I finished the third Luxe book, I’ve been waiting for Splendor to publish. The books take place in Manhattan at the turn of the century and are filled with gossip, romance, love triangles, love squares, heartache, and drama. It’s period chick-lit at it’s best. The stories are interesting and all intertwined. They’re perfect books to take on a beach vacation. You’ll easily read all four in a week. I love the glimpse into the lives of the rich during the late 19th century/early 20th century. It’s so different from our high society now. The rules of fashion and behavior are so interesting and the ways the characters find to break those rules make for scandalously fun reading. Splendor is much like the other books in the series, so I was not disappointed. And thankfully, it keeps me awake on my train ride into the city in the mornings. Not an easy thing to do lately.

Five Guys

I have a new favorite burger place. Kurt has been raving about these burgers for months. I was less than eager to try it. But on Friday, I was craving a burger. I was sick of same old Red Robin and Ruby Tuesday’s sliders. So, while Five Guys in Ewing was a 30 minute drive, I suggested we go. Oh my goodness. I was in love. The place is a cross between Checkers (décor) and Pat’s Cheesesteaks (ordering style). The décor is 50’s-inspired red, white, and black. We walked in and I almost tripped over 10 sacks of potatoes sitting on pallets on the floor. I assumed they had just come in and they were in the process of storing them. Not so. They just sit there until they’re needed. Love it! Five Guys only has burgers, hot dogs, and fries. That’s it. Let me give you a piece of advise: go straight for the burger, and make sure you've prepared your order ahead of time.

I stumbled over my order, “uhh a cheeseburger please?” while Kurt whispered instructions, “tell him what toppings!” “umm lettuce and ketchup?” Kurt went through his order like a pro and the cashier yelled out “four patties and fries!” I looked at Kurt. We had only ordered 2 burgers. “Four patties?” Each burger has 2 patties, but he assured me I’d be able to handle it. We put a dollar in the tip jar and the cashier yelled, “tip in the jar!” and the line cooks responded, “thank you!” I was loving this place already and I hadn’t even tried the food. When our order was up, Kurt came back to our table with two brown paper bags. One had our burgers and the other will filled with fries. The fries were awesome – they reminded me of the fries we used to get at the boardwalk smothered in vinegar. The burger was a little messy, but was hands down, by far the best burger I have ever had, including the filet mignon burgers my friend’s uncle used to make. It was juicy and full of flavor. The cheese is completely melted and completely awesome. The sesame-seed bun was soft and fresh and soaked up the juice from the patties. It was a burger that could convert any vegetarian. Kurt always teases me because I always end up leaving the last bite of food on my plate (why - I have no idea). Let's just say there wasn't a crumb left. Do yourself a favor, drop everything, and find the nearest Five Guys.

A Wedding Rant

Warning: This blogpost is going to be a wedding venue venting session. I would love to promise you that this will be the only wedding venting session, but I don't like to lie. Bear with me please.

Since Kurt and I got engaged, I’ve been on a google rampage. Whenever I have free time, I head to my favorite website and type in terms such as “outdoor wedding, princeton, nj” or “vineyard weddings, 08501”. We (and by “we”, I mean “I”) have two requirements for our wedding. (1) We don’t spend a ton of money. Even if we had all the money in the world, I can’t justify spending beaucoup bucks on 8 hours of my life. (2) It is outdoor or tented. I will not compromise on this. I love parties outside. I think there’s something so romantic and fun and casual about them. That’s what I want my wedding to be like. But finding a venue is proving to be more of a challenge than I thought. I have the option of a backyard wedding, but I have two concerns. First, we would have to rent everything, plan everything, assemble everything, break down everything, AND worry about mud if it rains (I really don’t want a ruined lawn on my conscience). (2) renting everything might end up being really expensive and since saving money would be one of the biggest draws of a backyard wedding, I’m not sure it would be worth it.

I read blogs (this is my favorite: a $10,000 wedding), buy magazines (I would have a lot more money to spend on the wedding if I hadn’t bought so many), and scour theknot.com for tips. You’d think with the economy the way it is and with all the information in the world at our fingertips, planning an inexpensive outdoor wedding would be easy! Not so. First of all, the options are endless. Just looking at the number of pages my search generates makes my head spin. Second, why don’t places post pricing!? All I want to know is how much it will cost per plate. Is that really so much to ask? I have a list of venues as long as my arm and I’m sure a large majority will be easily and quickly eliminated once I see the price per head. The only things I have planned so far have been discovered through connections. A chef/restaurant owner we know will cater (so the venue we choose, if not the backyard, would have to allow us to bring in our own caterer), and due to a hobby of my aunt and uncle, we have our favors. The thing is, the more I search for venues, the more frustrated I become. I don’t want a reception in a hotel (no offense to anyone who had their wedding in a hotel – it’s just not for me). I’ve found a few “perfect” places, but they’re either too expensive or too small. I’m hoping the backyard reception will be easier and cheaper than I think, because the more I think about it and envision it, the more I want it. If any of my readers knows someone who owns a tent/table/chair rental company, please hook me up! Also, any anti-mud suggestions would be much appreciated.

PS - I know I've been slacking with the book suggestions and new recipes. I promise to get back into it. I've been reading a manuscript so I can't really write about it, and I've been cooking some favorites lately. I've found some new recipes though for next week.

Celebrity Sightings in Starbucks

Today was a good day. First of all, the sun came out after two miserable days of rain, but more importantly and more excitingly (is that even a word?) I saw Chris Meloni today at the Starbucks near my office. I know. My heart was all aflutter (it’s even fluttering now as I relive it in my head). For those of you sad, sorry people who don’t know who he is, he plays Detective Elliot Stabler on Law & Order: SVU – one of the few shows my DVR is set to record. I had heard rumors that he lived in our building, and some of my coworkers had spotted him previously, but I’d never seen him. Until today! My colleague and I were waiting in line when I saw him in the line behind us. I immediately began *subtly* poking my friend and mouthing “look!” Understandably, it took her awhile to realize why I was freaking out – though I’m surprised he didn’t notice my antics. When she finally realized who I wanted her to look at, she was a lot less excited than me. Another colleague came in and after the same poking and head tossing to point out my celebrity sighting, she said, “oh, I don’t know who that is.” Me, I could barely contain myself. On the rare occasion that I see a celebrity I’m always torn between respectfully going up to them telling them I’m a fan and acting “cool” and nonchalant about it. I usually go with acting “cool” though I’m sure I look nothing of the sort while I’m stealing glances and giggling like a preteen. I decide not to speak to them because I know I won’t be able to restrain myself. I’ll end up gushing and professing my love for them or stumbling all over my words. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a huge celebrity hound, but Chris Meloni? Come on. There was no way I could go up to him without blushing something crazy and sounding like a complete stuttering idiot. Now, of course, I regret it. That always happens. In the moment, I’m torn, racked with inner conflict, but always take the “I’m a cool New Yorker who sees celebrities all the time” route, like everyone else in Starbucks (seriously, no one else seemed to notice that Detective Stabler had just ordered a tall latte!). But when it’s over and they’re long gone, I wish I had gotten a picture with my cell phone or been that flattering, over-enthusiastic fan. I guess I could always turn stalker and go to Starbucks every single day at the exact same time, waiting for my second chance. Just kidding. I may be overly excitable, but I’m no stalker. At least I have that going for me.

The Right to Walk-Out

While sitting captive in the doctor’s waiting room last week, I saw a story on the news that got me thinking. Students from a Linwood, NJ school had staged a walk-out to protest some of their teachers being let go. To conclude the story, the reporter stated, “disciplinary measures are being considered.” I understand that these students are disrupting the school day by walking out, but should they be disciplined? They are peacefully protesting their AUTHORITY FIGURES being let go. They walked out in support of their teachers. Isn’t this what we want from students? Support for their teachers? They weren't being rowdy or obnoxious. In fact, their walkout drew the attention of the news and shone a spotlight on a very real problem. I say bravo. When I was in 5th grade, my elementary school did something similar. One of our teachers was being let go. He was dedicated, well-loved, and an all-around great teacher. But rumor had it he didn’t get along with the superintendent. Frankly, I think petty politics do not belong in our school systems as the true meaning of teaching ends up getting lost, but I digress. Grades 5-8 staged a walkout. We wore buttons, carried signs, and even had the support of many teachers. The superintendent threatened to expel all students who participated – an empty threat since he couldn’t very well expel EVERYONE. Our walk-out generated some local media buzz, but all in all, was completely ineffective. Our teacher was let go anyway. But it showed our administrators that we cared what happened to our teachers, that we wanted good teachers. Sure, the superintendent wasn't keen on our disagreeing with him, but our intentions were good and our teachers supported us.

My question is, why are these administrators looking to punish these kids? They’re exercising their freedom of speech as well as their right to gather peacefully. I think it’s brave and touching that they banded together in support of teachers - whom they normally rally against. They should be applauded. And maybe (gasp!) even listened to. I think school authorities sometimes forget that to really teach children means to listen to them and to consider their concerns, not just throw information at them and hope it sticks. I truly believe most teachers understand this - all good teachers do, certainly - but I think it becomes lost on the administrators. I think we need more students who will fight for education and for the benefit of good teachers. Who else will?

All-nighter

Tonight's the night. I have my EEG in the morning, so I'm not allowed to sleep. I've been up since 5, just got home from work, and now I have 12 hours of wakefulness ahead of me. Ali's coming over to stand guard and make sure I don't fall asleep. It'll be a night filled with girlie movies, junk food, and late-night diner runs - a typical sleepover...without the sleeping. This will be a running post tonight, hour-by-hour. So check back for periodic updates if you're up all night with nothing to do. Here goes nothing.

9:30pm - blogging and eating a milkshake. Ali just got here. Kurt's friends are here to watch basketball. I'm already tired. It was a long day. Spring Break 2010 Party at work today.

11:00pm - Ali and I are reminiscing. The boys are listening to our crazy stories from middle school. I'm pretty sure Kurt is now wondering what he's getting into - if he wasn't before.

12:20am - My eyes are starting to close. Switching from contacts to glasses soon and am now chugging Dr. Pepper. Still watching b-ball which is helping keep me awake. Really want to sleep.

2:00am - Getting a second wind. We just played rock band for the past hour. I'm a master on the drums. Eight hours until I can go to sleep. Ali and I plan to go to an all-night diner around 3. Apparently, most of the diners near us aren't open 24 hours anymore! I'm a little upset. This is New Jersey! What are people supposed to do at 2 and 3 in the morning after going out drinking all night? Ali and I will find one. I know Crystal is open 24 hours, but we're going to stick to Rt. 130 and drive North until we find something. Road trip!

4:30am - We just got back from our mini road trip. Apparently, there are no 24 hour diners in New Jersey. We drove for about 20 minutes up Rt. 130 past two diners, both closed, before we headed to Lawrenceville and Crystal Diner. On the way, we got Dunkin Donuts coffee. The smell of it instantly woke me up (I'd been falling asleep in the car - don't tell Ali). When we walked into Crystal, the manager told us they were closing in 30 minutes (!?!?). What happened to all the diners?? We ate quickly and left before 4:00...and stopped at Dunkin Donuts again. The man at the drive-thru recognized us, laughed, and gave us some free munchkins. Now we're home and I'm much more awake than I was before eating and drinking two lattes. Only 3 and a half hours until my appointment and 5 hours until I get to sleep again!

6:20am - Normally I'd be leaving for the train station about now. I did it! I don't feel as bad as I thought I would. I can't believe I made it. We just finished watching Town & Country - weird, weird movie, but cute. The sun is coming up and it feels good to have accomplished this and stayed up all night. Thank you Ali for being such a good friend and staying up with me! You're the best!

10:30am - Just got home. EEG went well. Probably should not have driven to the test. I could feel my body trying so hard to shut down the whole drive there. Weird experience to say the least. I still have goo in my hair, but I don't care. All I can think is SLEEP. Goodnight!

White Lies

So I had an awesome weekend. Not only was the weather beautiful and warm and made me never want to be inside again, I also learned that I have the best family and friends ever. Kurt and I were going to lunch at my friend’s parents house with my dad on Sunday...or so I thought. When I opened the door, our bridal party and close family were all there to surprise me. They had thrown me a surprise engagement party! (And I say “me” because Kurt knew about it, not because this wedding is all about me, which I know it’s not ;-)) Once I got over the initial shock and confusion (I can’t wait to see the pictures from when we walked in – I’m sure the look on my face says “whaaaat??”) I was very very touched. Kurt thought he had blown it a few times, and if I were a suspicious person, he probably would have, but I had absolutely no idea. There were clues throughout that I just never thought twice about: Kurt wearing a polo without my prodding, my father dressing up for “lunch,” Kurt calling “lunch” a party and then backtracking. Yet I remained blissfully unaware. I still can’t believe my friends and family pulled it off and managed to lie (white lies of course, but lies nonetheless) to me for months. I know they worked so hard and it was absolutely amazing. My sister even went as far as to call the township and have them change the St. Patrick’s Day parade! At the last minute, the township had changed the course of the parade, sending the bagpipers and paraders down the street we needed to take. She called them and told them what they were planning and they didn’t block off the street! My sister kicks butt. It was absolutely perfect; the weather, food, family, and friends. I am a very very lucky girl.

On a completely separate and random note, I need to start taking vitamins. I say this about once a year. If you haven’t yet noticed, I’m the kind of person who gets stoked about/obsessed with something for a short period of time, and then just as quickly, bored with it. Every so often, I vow to take a multivitamin every day. It lasts about a week, and then the bottle sits on my desk, in front of my computer screen where I look at it everyday and think “I should really take my vitamins,” but still it sits, untouched. Pathetic, I know. Well, you all heard about my appointment with the migraine doctor and all the crazy tests I have to have to make sure my brain is lesion-free. He has also recommended that I take Magnesium Oxide and Riboflavin every day along with my vitamins (because I lied and told him I take vitamins every day). These are natural remedies (Riboflavin is B2 and found in fortified cereals – you would know this if you liked to read cereal boxes, like me). Not only would these reduce my migraine occurance, but the occurance of ALL headaches. You’d think I’d jump right on that right? Wrong. I keep meaning to, but haven’t bought them yet. Today though, I made the first step and took my multivitamin. Next step, CVS for some MgO and B2. Maybe writing it down will actually force me to do it. And then my headaches will magically disappear...for the week or two that I remember to take the pills.

How to Emulsify

The past few weeks have been insanely busy and I haven’t had time to make dinner. I went to the grocery store Monday night, bought a ton of groceries, only to realize I barely had time to make 2 recipes this week and wouldn’t be home most nights.

Wednesday night I made Sirloin with Chimichurri, my famous smashed potatoes, and sauteed veggies. The chimichurri came out good and went great with the sirloin. I was a little worried since it called for a food processor and I don’t have one. I used my trusty chopping knife and some elbow grease instead. I learned a new word as well: emulsify. It sounds scary, like pulverize or puree, so that’s what I assumed it meant. It actually means to mix two liquids that do not normally mix well, such as oil and water. Not so scary. The sirloin itself was a little tough, so I’ll have to figure out how to make it more tender next time. I don’t even think we have a mallet. My smashed potatoes are simple and amazing if I do say so myself. The only problem with them is I always make too much and end up eating ALL of them in one sitting. I peel only about 3/4 of the potatoes, boil the peeled and non-peeled potatoes, then smash them with a masher (keeping some lumps in). I mix in milk, butter, sour cream, salt and pepper to taste. Please note, these are not “healthy” smashed potatoes. But really, when you want something comforting and tasty, who goes for healthy? Butter and sour cream make everything better.

Next on the menu: Chili-rubbed Tilapia (except Shop Rite didn’t have Tilapia, so I’m making Sole instead). To come on Sunday.

On Tuesday, I took a personal day and went to the Neurologist. For as long as I can remember, I’ve gotten migraines. They’re rare, but debilitating all the same. For about the past fifteen years, the only symptoms accompanying my migraine headaches are sensitivity to light and sound and nausea – basically the symptoms that turn a headache into a migraine. I don’t know my triggers since they are so rare, it’s difficult to find a common factor. But over the past 3 years, three of my migraines were preceded by loss of vision and mental confusion. I can’t even describe how scary this is. The first time it happened, I was so panicked I thought I was going blind. For anyone who's wondering, the confusion is more terrifying than the vision loss. Like any closet hypochondriac in my generation, once the symptoms subsided and my headache started, I looked up my symptoms on WedMD and found they were fairly normal for migraine sufferers, but I was determined to get it checked out anyway. It took two more migraines like this to put me into motion.

The exam was interesting. Honestly, I felt like I had time-traveled back to the ‘60’s. The doctor actually had a black “doctor” satchel filled with his stethoscope, little hammer, and the thing they use to look in your eye. After an extensive and exhausting round of background questions, he performed the neurological exam: providing resistance while I pushed and pulled my arms, legs, elbow, wrist, etc. He then hit my joints with the little hammer and declared that I was normal. In order to be completely sure I don’t have a lesion in my brain (!) he’s having me do an MRI and a sleep-deprived EEG. This means I have to stay up all night next Thursday. I’m not allowed to sleep at all, nor am I allowed to take anything to help me stay awake. I’m not sure this doctor knows who he’s dealing with. I can pretty much fall asleep at any time. I LOVE to sleep. It’s one of my favorite things to do. I have pulled maybe 2 all-nighters in my life and both times were nights when I was surrounded by people, music, and constant stimulation. Here’s the deal: if I’m bored, I will fall asleep. So what to do? I’ll have at least 8 hours to kill and I’ll be exhausted and delirious for most of those hours. I need suggestions. I’m thinking about cleaning the whole apartment from top to bottom, taking a shower or two, maybe going to an all night diner at some point. I’m seriously dreading Thursday night and I’m REALLY not sure I can do this. Stay tuned.

On my nightstand:

I finished Neverwhere last week. It was awesome. Please please please go read anything by Neil Gaiman. He is such a great storyteller.

Now, I’m on to The Help. It’s a New York Times Bestseller and I’ve heard rave reviews from a ton of people at work. Now, I agree with all of them. I’m about halfway through. It takes place in Mississippi in the ‘60’s during the Civil Rights Movement. It alternates between three women: 2 Black housemaids, and 1 wealthy white woman who wants to help them tell their stories. It’s filled with drama and history and is so well written and the story, so well told. The voices are completely unique and I’ve found myself becoming deeply attached to each of them. It’s an easy read too. It’s a long book, but I’m devouring it, quickly. Definitely worth lugging to the beach on vacation – though you might not want to put it down to turn over while tanning.

Polar Bear Plunge

For the past three years, Kurt has participated in The Polar Bear Plunge. It is possibly the craziest charity event ever. People run into the ocean, in February, in New Jersey. It benefits The Special Olympics and each person raises money before taking the plunge. I signed up for the first time this year and let’s be honest, I was far from excited. I was flat-out dreading it. I do not enjoy being cold. I love Winter, but only when I can be curled up under a blanket, inside a heated house, drinking hot cocoa. I take super hot showers and don’t even like air conditioning that much (I end up turning it off half of the time because it gets too cold). So was it surprising that I had an awesome time at the Plunge on Saturday? Yes. Is it even more surprising that I plan to do it next year? Absolutely.

We lucked out. It was originally scheduled for February 27th, but it had snowed a lot on the 26th. While most people would think a little snow would make it that much more authentic, I would think a little snow would cause a lot of frostbitten toes. I think the organizers agreed with me. It was postponed until March 6th, this past Saturday. The bad news was that Kurt and another team member had to work and so couldn't make it. The good news was that it was a balmy 50 degrees and the water temperature was a scalding 42 degrees. Alright, not exactly sunbathing weather, but it was WAY better than 30 degrees and snow, right? We waited until the very last second to take off our coats, sweatpants, and sweatshirts (see "before" picture below) and get down to our bathing suits and even then, I stood there in my bikini, shivering and jumping from one foot to the other.

There are two ways to do the plunge. The first is to race into the water when they blow the horn. This allows you to get in quickly, but you then realize that getting OUT quickly is not going to happen since 4,000 people are running in behind you. The second option is to wait a minute or two before going in, thus allowing you to get out quickly. This was the option we chose. While we were able to get out quickly enough, we could not get IN quickly enough. While walking down to the water on wet, freezing cold sand, weaving through the throngs of wet, cold people who have already plunged and trying desperately not to touch them, my feet began to go numb. We tried to push through faster, but it just wasn’t possible. I finally got to the water, ran in, dove under a wave, jumped up, and promptly ran out to take pictures before drying off (see "after" picture below).

The whole “plunging” experience lasting about 10 seconds, but it was totally worth it and it was invigorating! It was fun! It wasn’t as bad as I had thought it would be. Even attempting to (and succeeding in) changing out of my swimsuit on the beach without revealing ANYTHING was fun.

All in all, we raised over $900,000 for the Special Olympics. I may rave (and complain) about the experience and the fun and the cold, but let’s not forget the true message. The Seaside Heights Polar Bear Plunge is the largest in New Jersey, but it’s only one of the many across the country raising money for a worthy cause. I will definitely be participating again next year. Who’s with me??

On my nightstand:

I started a new book yesterday. One of my favorite books is The Graveyard Book, by Neil Gaiman. It won the Newbery last year, so I picked it up…and couldn’t put it down. It was amazing. I loved the story, the characters, the voice, everything. So, while I was at Borders the other day searching for a new title, I came across Neverwhere, also written by Gaiman. It sounded interesting, so I picked it up. I’m about 100 pages in, but you know those books that you can tell you’ll love after the first page? This is one of them. I’m thinking of going on a Neil Gaiman kick – reading all of his books thus far. He’s written so many wonderful books that I just haven’t had the time to pick up – Stardust, American Gods, Coraline – just to name a few. Neverwhere is about a young man who moves to London and makes the decision to save a young girl. By saving her, he enters a world full of mystery and magic: the London Below, where people who have "fallen between the cracks" live. How could you NOT love a book like this? I’ll update as I read more.

Rekindled Obsessions and a New Discovery

This week, I rekindled an old love: Quaker Rice Snacks. I know what you're thinking. Quaker Rice Snacks? But really, they're amazing. Especially the Caramel Corn ones. Back in college I was obsessed with the Peanut Butter flavored cakes, but today I confirmed it, they've been sadly discontinued. I had held out hope for years - "maybe they're just out of them, they must be popular!" I'd tell myself whenever they weren't with the other flavors. But no, I'll have to make do with Caramel Corn.

Everyday after lunch, I have a craving for something sweet and giving up chocolate for Lent has drastically limited my choices. Apparently, the company who stocks our cafeteria believes that the only sweet things in the world are chocolate. Today, propelled by my craving, I found myself standing in front of the vending machine in search of a non-chocolate sweet. While desperately trying to avoid the snickers bar, milano cookies, and oreos, my eyes landed upon the Caramel Corn Quaker Rice Snacks. Finally! Something sweet, that's not chocolate, that I would actually consider eating! AND it's healthy! I pretty much inhaled the 100 calorie bag and I want more. I'm back on the rice cake bandwagon! It looks like I have a new obsession to give up for Lent next year.

Giving up chocolate is not easy, especially for someone with a sweet tooth like me. Every week, some of my girlfriends and I get together to watch Grey's Anatomy. Whoever hosts that week makes goodies for everyone. Mine almost always include chocolate: chocolate-chip cookies, brownies, s'mores. This week, I hosted and needed to find something to make for the girls. My mind immediately went to brownies, until I realized I wouldn't be able to eat them. And let's be realistic, if I made brownies, I was eating them. I don't have THAT much will power. At the last minute, I thought of lemon bars. Perfect! Everyone loves them, they're easy to make, and they're not chocolate, so I could eat them! I found Paula Dean's recipe online and got started. You make the dough first, bake it for 20 minutes and while it's baking, make the filling. The filling goes on top of the dough, and you bake it for another 25 minutes. Let's just say Paula's oven must not be as hot as mine. The dough burned a little bit, on the bottom, but they were still tasty. I've learned my lesson. I will check on my creations periodically to make sure they're not burning. For my first time, they weren't bad! I'd like them to have more of a lemon flavor than they did, so next time I'm adding more lemon juice. (Note to self, buy a juicer).

On my nightstand:

I know I've been slacking in this part of my blog, but I haven't read anything that I could really tell you about. They're mostly manuscripts. I did read a manuscript though, that I can tell you about. It's called Kiss in the Dark, by Lauren Henderson. It comes out on 4/13/2010, which is still 6 weeks away, but it's the third in a series, so you can get started on the first two in the meantime. They are Kiss Me Kill Me and Kisses and Lies. They're all murder mysteries set in England. Scarlett Wakefield becomes the main suspect in a strange murder and must investigate to find out who the true murderer is. These books are fast paced and fun reads. Scarlett's voice is chatty and cute. You instantly want to be her friend. She can be a little frustrating at times, the way characters can be when they do something you KNOW they shouldn't do, but she's a strong heroine. I really enjoyed these books. There's also the added aspect of teen romance in each for those who enjoy chick lit. Highly recommended.