Friday Confessional: I Go Back to Spring Cocktail

This morning, as I surveyed my desk and muttered under my breath about how I really can't handle the little house imps that must come in here and mess up my stuff at night, my eyes lit upon a forgotten relic of the past: a cd book.

If you're old enough to remember when Zack Morris coined the phrase, "tv time-out", you know what I'm talking about: the soft-covered Case Logic case, usually black, which, when unzipped, reveals a treasure trove of 80-minute windows into the Millenial's teenaged soul.

Yes, that would be Bewitched and DMB. No shame in my game.

My coworkers have been disturbingly not disturbed as they wander in here to find me, head bent over a manuscript with pink pen in hand, lip syncing and chair dancing to such classics as India.Ari's "Not Your Average Girl" and Missy Elliot's "Get Ur Freak On". My reaction has typically been just to look up mid-lip-synced-lyric ("That'cho chiiiiiiick?"), find out what they want as quickly as possible and then send them on their way.

I'm just now getting to the cds with no labels, so I'll be sure to take note of what songs are on them so that I can report back in a later post. In the meantime, one cd that WAS labeled was my Kappa Delta Bids Day Mix compilation from the semester I joined my sorority, which includes the following sweet jams:

1. The Cheers Theme
2. Baby One More Time
3. Baby Got Back
4. I Wanna Be a Supermodel
5. In the Club
6. Stacey's Mom
7. Like a Virgin
8. Barbie Girl
9. Sugar, Sugar
10. Give A Little Bit
11. Breakaway
12. That's What Friends Are For
13. To Make You Feel My Love
14. The Rose

Obviously, this cd brought back a ton of memories, particularly of my pledge period. My pledge class was sort of unique, in that the semester I went through recruitment ("rush" in Sweet Valley-speak), my sorority was almost at total -- which is a PC way of saying that they were so popular that they only had room to take a few new members. Total is like a salary cap on a sports team's budget; Greek Life comes up with a finite number of girls allowed in each sorority, so that the houses are all on even footing and have a fair shot at attracting new members.

As it happened, I completely ignored the advice they give you at Recruitment Orientation and went into the entire process knowing exactly which house I wanted to join (note to any collegiate readers out there: do as I say, not as I do. I later became a Rho Psi who wasn't allowed to walk out the front door non-biased recruitment group leader and really, it's best to keep an open mind when going through the first round of house tours). I also knew they only had five slots, and that as a second semester sophomore, it was kind of do-or-die as far as my Greek life aspirations went. Thankfully, after two weeks of meticulously planned outfits, heat-styled hair and incessant self-promotion, I received my coveted white rose along with an embossed green and white bid card. I was in!

How they let me in with that hair is another question....YIKES!

Because my pledge class was so small, we were nicknamed the "Fab Five" by our VP of New Member Ed ("Pledgemaster" via Animal House). Over our six week pledge period of fun group activities and social events, we went from being five virtual strangers to pretty good friends. This bonding experience culminated, of course, in our pledge retreat, during which we were charged with writing a "Pledge Song" to be performed at the Spring Cocktail. On our Bids Day (a big party they throw for you after you get your bid), all the older classes had performed their songs, many of which were featured on today's mix cd -- Stacey's Mom (aptly retitled, "KD Girls have got it goin' on...."), Like a Virgin ("Like a KD... pledged for the very first time!") and Barbie Girl ("I'm a KD girl, in a KD world...).

With creativity like that, we obviously had a lot to live up to.

Riffing on our rep as the "Fab 5", we initially wrote an EPICALLY horrible version of the Jackson 5's "ABC" -- we knew it was terrible, but we wanted to get down to the business of watching "My Best Friend's Wedding," so we said the heck with it and performed it at breakfast the next morning anyway. The look on the ten sisters' faces when we did the "big reveal" at the end of our retreat was priceless. Horror mixed with revulsion mixed with "omg wtf did we do?!" is a pretty accurate description.

Because we're mean, the five of us decided to let the girls who had been present at the retreat continue to think that we were super proud of our song and couldn't wait to perform it at cocktail. Looking from the inside out, I can only imagine what they told the rest of the house when we got back to school -- probably that they had made the worst mistake in KD history and the entire sisterhood was doomed. Meanwhile, we met a few times in the dorms and completely re-wrote the entire thing, from scratch.

And so, it was to everyone's great surprise and delight that, mid-way through our inaugural Spring Fling cocktail, my four newly-initiated sisters and I clutched our microphones, giggled incessantly,  hit the lights, cued the dj, and busted out THIS sweet jam:

"If you wanna be a KD

You gotta start as a pledge

Wear that pin forever

The fun it never ends!

If you wanna be a KD

Your time you'll have to give

Meetings go forever but that's the way it is."

Glammed up and ready for my debut

Obviously, the highlight was the finale, which included us screaming, "CHEER IT OUT LOUD, WE'RE KAPPA DELTA PROUD" as we jumped up and down like chihuahuas on speed, high-fiving each other and hyping the crowd.

Obviously, we were a huge hit. Because if you know any sorority girls? You know one thing.

They LOVE to cheer.

Have a good weekend, everyone! And a special shout out to my East Coasters -- stay safe!

Blog ADD

I know I've mentioned this once or twice a few many times before, but I have a serious problem with blog post ADD. The way it usually happens is that I'll get all hopped up on an idea: "OMG! I HAVE to write about that! It will be such a great, thought-provoking/expressive/hilarious topic and I just can't wait! It will be the post that launches me into the orbit of the greater interwebz, and then I will be able to quit my job, sell a book, grant the rights to the screenplay and remind my readers every day via Twitter about how I'm livin' the dream!".

Of course, these bursts of inspiration always come at the worst times, like in the shower, on the bus or submerged in the Atlantic Ocean, tickling my toes with seaweed. Basically, if there's no computer around, I'm sure to come up with the perfect plotline for the Great American Novel.

So, I do what most people do and whip out my trusty little notebook (which I've been carrying in my purse for years now; it predates the whole blog thing by a LOT... apparently, when friends play the, "oh shit! I forgot Caitlin's birthday!" game, miniature notebooks come to mind? Awkward.).

I love me some technology and all, but there's just something about a brand-new, totally blank notebook that's somehow....refreshing. All those empty pages, waiting to be filled up with whatever my little heart desires. Lists? Sure. Story ideas? Why not? The blog post that lets me quit my day job? Sign me up! Putting pen to paper just feels so authentic and real -- a feeling that just can't be replicated by the clickety-clack on a keyboard.

Unfortunately, my little pink notebook is currently filling up with ideas, but when it comes time for me to actually sit down and write about them, nothing happens.

Blinking cursor, white screen. No words.

I admit I've been under a fair amount of stress lately, which I would normally be blogging about but since most of it is family or work-related, it doesn't really have a place out here on the interwebz. Because while I have no problem airing my dirty personal laundry for the world to see, I'm not so sure that my employer or, ya know, my family, would appreciate that same courtesy.  

Although it would be nice to finally say, "Well, mom, you always DID ride me about doing the laundry... so I aired yours, too!"

With the new school year upon us, it is entirely possible that Andrew and I will finally, grudgingly, give part of our paychecks up to Comcast and find ourselves with cable and internet at home. Homeslice has to do his homework, after all. I'm hoping that once that happens (or even if I just get a new laptop so that can record my random musings WITHOUT an old, rickety desk chair digging into my coccyx), quality posting on a regular schedule shall commence.

In the meantime, thanks for bearing with me. I know how irritating it is to have that, "...and THEN what happened?" feeling, and I'm probably losing a lot of readers with the constant question of whether or not I'll be in the posting mood on any given week, day or hour.

So thank you!! You guys are awesome.

The Summer Wind

This past weekend was "Family Weekend" down the Cape with Andrew's family. We've all had a crazy summer, and they are good people and always have a revolving door down there -- so it was really nice to just kick back and relax with some good friends, food and fun.

Andrew and I drove down Friday night after a pitstop at not one, but TWO Marathon Sports locations to pick up new running shoes. I was hoping to make it until early September with the pair I had but, unfortunately for my wallet, my super flat feet said otherwise. :( I'm planning to do a full review of my new sneaks soon, but since I've only run one long, 5-mile run in them, I want to give them a fair shake and need to do some more mileage before sharing my opinion with the world.

After a bright-and-early wakeup for that 5-miler, we had big plans for the day: a real, true, New England-style Clambake! We loaded up the truck with SO MUCH STUFF, then schlepped it all to a local island. One large hole, a bunch of rocks, some newspaper, seaweed, a wet tarp and 6 hours of fun in the sun later, dinner was served!

The "oven" -- SO COOL!

Cheesecloth packages full of lobster, mussels, clams, shrimp, onions, potatoes and corn.

But it wasn't a rock... it was a rock LOBSTER!

Butta melted in a tin pan over hot coals.

Because Andrew and I don't really care for lobster (it's not that we hate it, but it's "wasted on us", really, because neither of us particularly love it), his mom made us separate bags full of vegetables and the most perfectly, juicy and delicious swordfish. We also each tried a mussel and a clam drowned in butter (still just "eh" to me. I'm going to have my Boston card revoked), and then I gorged myself on shrimp -- both his mom and dad felt bad because they didn't know I LOVE shrimp, so there was none in my bag o' tricks, and they very generously shared their portions with me!

We were all STUFFED afterward, but my family has a saying that, thankfully, Andrew's clan subscribes to as well: There's ALWAYS room for ice cream dessert! After indulging in that classic campfire delicacy, the Smore, it was getting pretty late, and so , salty and satisfied, we packed up and set off into the sunset.

The food, the weather, the company, the sunset, the stillness that settled over the water in the moonlight....

Saturday was sheer perfection.

Friday Confessional: Tic, Tic, BOOM!

Holla, Party People!

I've been spending my Friday inhaling coffee by the bucketful and crossing things off of my work-related To Do list like a crazy person. It's cute; I imagine I look like a chihuahua on speed as I whip my rolly chair around  and knock over all of the pink/green/yellow accessories with which I've spent the past two weeks painstakingly decorating my desk area. Seriously, I even got the go-ahead from my boss to purchase these babies:

[Source]

I do realize that pink rhinestone scissors are totally obnoxious, and I love it. I'd like to see the vagabonds I work with try to steal THOSE without me noticing.

-------
 I feel like I've been on a bit of a "write what I feel" kick lately, and while that seems to be working out for the best, I feel like it's been FOR-EV-ER since I did a proper Friday Confessional.

There are some bigger confessions that I have planned, both of the entertaining and the more serious variety, but I started to work on some of them and then realized that I'm not in the right mindset at the moment to really give them the attention they deserve. I find that happening a lot with my posts lately; I'll know exactly what subject I want to write about, but just don't have the time or energy to give the topic my full attention. I could totally half-ass some of those posts, but I feel like that wouldn't just be shortchanging my readers (holla!), but also myself. Because I like writing about that stuff, and I like the feeling of putting out quality posts more than I care about hitting some arbitrary "schedule" or "deadline" I've set.

Thankfully, I have some mini-confessions to make today, which require neither a ton of attention nor a ton of time. And so, I do hereby confess:

- I LOATHE having bolded, unread emails in my inbox. It makes me feel all squirmy inside and I have to either read them or delete them in order to feel "right" again. Before I switched to Office 2007, I would literally comb my Outlook account for the sole, unread email blemishing my inbox for more time than I care to admit.

- At least six times a week, I inadvertently look at the clock and it will read 9:11. Some people would take this as a bad omen, but for me, it's always a source of comfort. My beloved Gramma passed away on 9/11/06, and every single time I see it on the clock, I make sure to say "Hi!" and thank her for checking in on me.

- Andrew and I make up names for people in our neighborhood all the time, usually because we find out their names after we've been consuming adult beverages and then forget what they are. "Ann-Marie" is our favorite waitress at our local watering hole, even though her name is Sarah. Likewise, "Not Chris" is the door man at said establishment. He totally LOOKS like a Chris, but we have no idea what his actual name is despite asking him on several occasions. Sometimes, this little quirk gets us in trouble. I once made the mistake of referring to one of the brothers who own the packie across the street as "Mike Sullivan" to his face.... even though his name is neither Mike nor Sullivan. He looked at me like I was crazy, but still sold me my wine. No harm, no foul.

- In addition to the "unread email" quirk I mentioned above, there are a few other scenarios that legitimately induce a nervous tic in me from time to time. For starters, I get physically uncomfortable if my bed isn't made, and will 100% make it even if I get in to it 30 seconds later. I also feel compelled to straighten things that are askew, which leaves me straightening the damn frames at work every single day. Lastly, I can't just crumple up a paper wrapper for anything -- I have to fold it into a little triangle or I feel "off."

Now that I sound like a raving lunatic, that's enough of that.

Do you have any weird neuroses that drive you absolutely bonkers?  I love learning about other people's odd quirks; it makes me feel better about my own!

Have a great weekend!

Chopped! Tiny Apartment Edition

When it comes to the grocery bill, I'm the first to admit that I have a pretty... liberal interpretation of the word "budget."

As in, I regularly spend $65 at Stop 'n Shop, $25.50 at Whole Foods and $19.99 at Trader Joe's. In a single weekend. For the two of us. Oh, plus the farmer's market and Friday dinners out, but Andrew usually pays for those so they totally don't count.

[Source]

If you couldn't tell from my killer Fat Bastard impression, I love me some food.

As you might suspect, because of this compulsive food shopping addiction, the cabinets in our meager little kitchen are literally sagging under the weight of all the random crap we have amassed in the past year. Take, for instance, my apparent blind terror that we will one day run out of pasta or canned beans. Laugh all you want, but if a bean-less, noodle-less zombie apocalypse is upon us, see if I share my stash during the big carbo-loading party when the time comes to outrun them. NOT TO MENTION that while your glycogen stores deplete and your brains are being chomped on, I will have enough slimy, stringy leftovers to cleverly divert the zombies and get away.

Unfortunately, while I personally would have no problem blowing my entire paycheck on gourmet wine and cheese treats, the company that holds my student loans and my landlord seem to think otherwise.

Bloody buzzkills.

So, in an attempt to help rectify this "shelving problem" AND fatten our wallets, Andrew and I agreed to abandon our usual Supermarket Sweep-style antics this week and try to only eat meals created with the random shit we have accumulated in our kitchen. We gave ourselves a $20 budget on Sunday to buy whatever fresh ingredients we needed. A bag of romaine, a bag of spinach, two grapefruit, two bottles of soda water, a bag of Hoodsies, a loaf of bread and some sandwich thins (and a box of mac n cheese because we ate our last one on Saturday, and both feel very... exposed... should we ever not have one in stock) came to $19.64.

Now let me tell you what (CRo, I hope you read this and say that line in your hubby's Texan twang. I did while I was writing it. Creepy? Maybe. Hilarious? Definitely.). Spending under $20 on food is a MAJOR FEAT, PEOPLE. As has been the actual art of turning our hoards of random boxed goods, leftover vegetables and assorted culinary accessories into meals that are nutritious, satisfying and don't taste like dirt. Particularly considering that we somehow didn't have any meat in backstorage and ran out of milk on Monday.

Basically, we've been pretending we're contestants on Chopped.

You know, the show on Food Network where celebrity chef Ted Allen, formerly known as, "the one from Queer Eye that my Dad always suspected was straight", finds four chefs to compete with each other and is all, "Congratulations.... you have 30 minutes to make a meal out of the following ingredients: Spam, hard taco shells, cocoa puffs and frozen asparagus! Ready? Go! ... sorry, your meal sucked. You have been CHOPPED!"

[Source]

Not gonna lie, I'm really enjoying this little challenge. So far, I'm totally winning, because Andrew took one look at our "surprise ingredients" and declared, "spaghetti" and "stir fry" our only hope for the week. Yours truly, however, has a distinct advantage due to that time I stopped eating meat for 47 days, and has whipped up some pretty snappy suppers so far, if I do say so myself (say that 5x fast!).

Monday: Scrambled eggs and pan fries. Used up: the last 3 eggs, scrambled with 1/4 can of organic black beans, some sauteed frozen green pepper, dash red hot, half of the jack cheese in the fridge (which I gave about 2 more days before it becomes a science experiment), and 2 morningstar maple "sausage" patties that have been in my freezer for 2 months, crumbled. Side of pan fries made with 3 small white potatoes, swirl of EVOO, salt and pepper.

Tuesday: Black bean tacos. Used up: the rest of the can of black beans mixed with 1/4 jar of Trader Joe's Roasted Corn and Chile Salsa (which we became obsessed with after sampling it at the Brookline Food Festival), simmered on low with a hefty dose of chili powder, cayenne pepper, cumin, s&p. Served in five hard taco shells (3 for him, 2 for her), with remnants of the lettuce we bought, half of the cherry tomatoes we had left, 1/4 container of sour cream that has 5 days until it expires and all but the last .5oz of the jack cheese as accouterments.

To his credit, despite his lack of imagination in the kitchen, A-man has been a real contender. He has managed to compile lunches for each of us (as well as my breakfast), every day but today (and he did make his own today). Yes, that may SEEM unimpressive, but given the amount of food I require on any given day, it's not something to sneeze at. He informed me this morning that I have run out of cinnamon raisin Ezekiel bread (travesty), my natural pb supply is dwindling (good thing I've run out of toast to put it on!),  I'm on my last grapefruit (I enjoy cheating the system and have one decorating stashed at my desk), we're down to one banana (dibs! dibs! I need it for my GM), our spinach supply is completely depleted (oh, cruel world! I guess he can have that last banana after all), and the remains of our coveted leftover-from-Sunday-Pre-Challenge slices of Pizzeria Regina extra-cheese pie are now out of stock.

We might also be out of raspberry vodka, which is a real shame, seeing as I owe it some of the credit for my sparks of genius in the culinary arena of late.

Sad day.

I haven't taken full stock of the situation for tonight, but I saw a can of chickpeas lurking during my hunt for adobos last night, and A has a dinner date with his Aunt (I'd say he's cheating on our deal except I totally didn't bring lunch and resorted to a miniature cup of mediterranean pepper soup and a bag of baked Lays from Au Bon Pain for lunch). Because he hates curry and I'm slightly ashamed of the amount of canned tomato products I've managed to compile (perhaps to aid in my "this spaghetti is really brains" diversionary tactic? Blood substitute?), I'm thinking some kind of riff on channa masala is in order. Plus, there's a glass of wine left in my fridge taking up space that I really need to get rid of.

Oh, and brownie mix. I HAVE to use up that shelf-space usurping brownie mix.

Thank God for flax "eggs"! :)

What's the most creative meal you've cooked/eaten lately?

When in Doubt, Book It

It's nice, every so often, to emerge from the depths of Grant Hell work and be able to say hello to you guys again! I wish I had a record of how many times I've said, "whoa... must remember to blog about that!" over the past two weeks or so, because I think whoever came up with the phrase, "out of sight, out of mind" is full of bs. I never forget about you guys!

However, as Melissa pointed out yesterday, there's something inherently more stressful about "I have to get this shit done so people can get their paychecks and feed their children/cats/selves!" than there is about "omg! guyz! My blogging schedule (or lack thereof?) is totes stressin' me out!". And so blogging has taken a backseat for the past few weeks, because I prefer another method of stress relief when I find time to come up for air.

Basically, all I've been doing lately is reading in my spare time. It's the single best escape from life's insanity that I've ever found; I got away from my crazy family by doing it at age 3 and I avoid the stress of work by doing it at 26. I'm actually convinced that part of the reason I managed NOT to lose my shit during my breakdown year and drop out of college is because I was forced to take a large chunk of my day and devote it specifically to the task of reading. Some of it was monotonous (Dracula), some was hilarious (Shamela), some game-changers (On the Road, Uncle Tom's Cabin) and some had the opposite effect than expected (loved Hope Leslie and finally, the third time, Wuthering Heights; hated Native Speaker and Dog Soldiers). All were pivotal in helping me keep my sanity during a time that otherwise would have crushed my soul.

My family has always joked that for someone with a degree in English Literature and a concentration in Victorian and Gothic canon, I read more trashy fluffy material than anyone they've ever met. I don't know about anyone else, but I seem to do my "pleasure reading" in spurts. In the past two months, I've read Catching Fire, Mockingjay, Something Borrowed, Something Blue, Baby Proof, Love the One You're With, Skylight Confessions, If You Were Here, My Fair Lazy, Bossypants, half of My Life in France (love it but misplaced it) and half of The Almost Moon (hate it and threw it across the room misplaced it).

Not exactly Bronte or Austin, but entertaining and it gets the job done.

Lest you worry that I only read chick lit and young adult fare, have no fear -- while rooting around everywhere to find my copy of Voyager, the third book in the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon, and loudly voicing my frustration that I "had nothing to read" (from the girl whose living room is beginning to look like an episode of Hoarders: Barnes and Noble Edition), Andrew piped up that I could borrow one of the books he had bought on our last fro yo Brooline Booksmith stop: Game of Thrones.

He hadn't even read it yet, but I had dibbsed it mere seconds after he bought it, so I was pumped. We haven't seen the show (holla to no cable/internet!), so it was all totally new to me, but I could. not. put. it. down. I finished it yesterday and am gleefully plotting my Targaryon-style takeover of my parents' tv and $200 cable package for 48 hours of GoT marathon viewing. Thankfully, I also found Voyager about two days after I embarked on the madness of GoT, and am now happily engrossed in Jamie that.

If you're keeping score, that means I've been hauling around a collective 2,000 pages of fantasy fiction in my purse.

I might be a nerd.



One day, in my own fantasy world where funding has been preserved for all (no progress reports required), I swear I am going to get around to posting those book reviews I promised awhile ago. In the meantime, here's a hint regarding what one of those reviews might be about:

[Source]

I seriously can't wait.

Read any good books lately? Do tell!
I'm always on the lookout for recommendations!