Foux Da Fa Fa

You know it's time to move when...

2012-01-20T22:11:00.000-06:00

Two and a half years ago Chris and I were prompted to move to the suburbs with his parents because we had plans. Big ones. We were going to get hitched (check), save a little money (semi-check) and eventually find our way back to the city once we got our shit together (semi-check).

Not shortly after making this decision a couple of things happened near us that made us happy that we were moving. One, a shooting happened about four blocks east of us in the heart of Westport. Although we loved our little Westport apartment, it became apparent to us that it was no longer safe. Two, not five days before being officially out of the building my curious dog was found near some rat poison in our basement, driving us to believe that he might have consumed some. Panic ensued, and he was sent straight to the doggie emergency room. Two-hundred sum odd dollars later, he was fine, but we were pissed.

Chris and I are moving back to the city at the end of this month. We found an awesome place south of the Plaza. It's close to our jobs and UMKC, where Chris is now pursuing his MBA. Before the ink was dry on our new lease there was a shooting not five miles away from us at the Independence Center (stay classy, Independence). And then tonight, my in-laws' puppy consumed a sock, sending him straight to the doggie emergency room (it's been awesome).

These chain of events are now natural signs for Chris and I to get the hell out of dodge. So if you happen to hear about a shooting in South Plaza and then see on my FB status that Watson was sent to the doggie emergency room a few days later, just assume we're moving. These three events are no longer independent of each other for us. To illustrate this blog post, let me give you a simple formula:

Shooting + Doggie ER = Moores Moving (also accepted: Moores Getting the Hell Out of Dodge)

The End

Love is...

2011-11-30T20:29:00.001-06:00

When you drive the side of the Prius into the brick of the garage and he doesn't go nutty-booty over it. I get it, I'm a terrible driver. Call me a stereotype of my race and gender.

Thirty: An Open Letter to Baby Gina

2011-11-26T10:27:00.001-06:00

Dear Baby Gina (circa 1981)-

It's future you. Don't wig out or throw a baby tantrum, just listen to what future you has to say. I think I have some sound advice for you.

First of all, don't fight your naps, cherish them. You're totally taking nap time for granted. When you get to be my age (by the way I turned 30 yesterday, you're welcome baby me), naps are rare. Okay they're not that rare, I nap all the time, it's only because I fully appreciate them. Also, don't only cherish nap time, cherish this time. The NO RESPONSIBILITIES time. There will be a time where you'll think "Being a kid sucks, I want to grow up!" Don't think like that little Asian one. The reality is, being an adult kind of sucks. You have to give your money away to pay for things. People hold you responsible for your life decisions. I mean you really have a cake walk compared to me. You have people who wipe your ass for you and think it's adorable. Yeah, that doesn't last long.

Which brings me to, when you grow up stop being such a biggity-brat. Seriously, it is not THAT bad. Finish your food. Food is awesome, it is not a torture device used by mom to make you suffer. One day you'll understand. Also, fight back. Nina and Caroline will give you a ton of shit, it's only because they love you and you're an easy target. Don't sit in a corner and cry, comment on Nina's poofy mall bangs and Caroline's affinity for sports. You might get Nina's stinky foot in your face in the process, but at least you fought back. And you're not being "mean" (maybe a little), you're just making a social commentary on family relationships. It's healthy, trust me.

You're going to be a teenage girl one day, which means you're going to be a bitch to mom and dad. Be less of one. Mom and dad are pretty awesome. They feed and clothe you. They make sure you have a roof over your head and they bought you your first car. So yeah, being a bitch isn't winning you any sympathy with anyone. Instead of sitting in a corner and crying (you tend to do that a lot), go rationally talk to them. It works. And mom turns out to be more understanding than you give her credit for. Sure, they're a little strict, but talk to them. It's a lot easier than yelling and then crying about it. Also, you're not always right. You're a teenager. You've hardly lived life to know it all, so stop being an asshole.

Baby Gina, don't worry about love. At the time this photo was taken (circa summer of 1981), your future husband was just born. Yes, you're older than him but only by about 8 months, you're not robbing the cradle. Just go with it. He also lives about 10 minutes from you and he'll be the weird kid that won't sit down in your kindergarten class. Then he'll be that weird kid you see every morning while on safety patrol who rides in a taxi. Then he'll be that weird kid in debate that won't shut up. Then he'll be the weird beard who eventually wins your heart. Your romance is not a traditional one, and that is fine. Some people will pressure you to get married, but don't fret, it all happens when the time is right and it was awesome. Think Vegas, now think classy Vegas.

Lastly, know that you will be one lucky lady. You are surrounded by people who love and have put up with you for the last 30 years. You have a supportive family, hilarious friends, a husband that makes you laugh every flipping day, and a dog (YOU HAVE YOUR VERY OWN DOG!!) who is super awesome. You're pretty spoiled, so be happy with that. You have used your charms well and have no need for want. Although, you did get a little greedy this year for your birthday. That's okay, you only turn 30 once and can afford a couple of indulgences once in a while.

If you take my advice, your life is going to awesome. It already is a boatload of awesome, so don't ever take it for granted.

Regards,

Future Gina

P.S. You don't have a kid yet. You have made the right decision to wait until you are over your "selfish phase, " so LIVE IT UP!

Tune Tuesdays: Not that kind of Zombie

2011-10-25T21:40:00.000-05:00

For a long period during college the only bands I would listen to were late 50s to mid 60s British pop bands. I can fully admit now, I still love listening to them. One of the most notable bands that I listened to, that weren't the Beatles, was the Zombies. They had a mix of happy and dreary melodies, mixed with lyrics that spanned over any era. One of my favorite songs from this band is "Tell Her No." Last week one of my favorite husband/wife hipster bands, Tennis, released their new single, which happens to be a cover of my favorite Zombies song. Well done, Tennis, I approve of your cover.

Grief

2011-10-21T21:40:00.000-05:00

Naomi (Mina was the size of a blueberry), Ted, Chris, Grandma and Me. April 2009.

Grief is hard. I’ve never really had to deal with grief before. Sure I grieved the end of my summers as a kid, and I will grieve the end of my 20s in a couple of weeks. But when it comes to actual hard- hitting grief over the death of a loved one, I’ve been an amateur. Then Saturday came. It sucked, a lot. As I someone told me this week, “death is hard, even when it’s expected.” Boy, ain’t that the truth.

I knew Grandma’s death would have an effect on me. I knew that afterwards my life would have to go on. But what I didn’t know was how I was going to wrap my head around it. I cried a lot on Saturday, but I haven’t really since. Maybe it’s because I’ve been keeping busy. On Saturday Chris and I cooked breakfast and dinner for everyone, we also helped Grandpa put his bedroom back together. Sunday we went back to Independence, and then I threw myself back into work on Monday. On Wednesday, I remember having a laughing fit over some fart jokes. Yes, I said fart jokes. I was laughing so hard I started to feel guilty about it. Why was I still so happy after what just happened over the weekend? Was I a bad person?

Chris told me that just because I’m laughing a fart jokes doesn’t make me a bad person. He said that life goes on and that’s what Grandma would’ve wanted. She wouldn’t want us sitting in a room staring at each other bawling our eyes out. Thinking about this made me realize, yes, I’m still mourning her, and I miss her more than I can put into words. Everyday, I nostalgically and torturously listen to The Best of Sinatra on my iPod at least two times. These songs, more than anything, bring me flashbacks of our time together. Whenever Sinatra was on you can bet your bottom dollar that Grandma had a stiff drink in her hand, her left ankle was swinging to the beat and she was seamlessly belting out the lyrics to each and every song. Even though this memory makes me long intensely for the past, it makes me happy that this is my memory of her.

This whole thing hasn’t really resonated with me yet. I still feel like she’s going to call at any moment and I’ll hear her sweet voice saying, “Hi Sweetie!” on the other side of the line. Even on Saturday, I was hoping to hear her voice yell “Bish!” from the other room as she called for Grandpa. In about a month the family will be gathering for her memorial and I feel the finality of it all will finally resonate with me and it’s going to be bad. Real bad. So yes, it’s funny this grief thing. It plays tricks on you and makes you question your own sanity. I still don’t understand it and yet, I understand enough to not enjoy it.

Tune Tuesday: For Grandma Bishop

2011-10-18T18:09:00.004-05:00

Marjorie Bishop 8/14/24-10/15/11

On Saturday, October 15, 2011, one of the most important women in my life died. Her name was Marjorie Jean Bishop, and she was a beautiful person inside and out. Marjorie, or “Grandma” as I always and will always refer to her as, was Chris’s maternal grandmother. I don’t remember the exact moment I met Grandma (I’ve been racking my brain trying to pinpoint it), what I do remember was that she accepted me as one of her own grandkids from the moment I met her. To someone who has never met any of her grandparents, let alone utter the words “Grandma” to another human being, it was a big deal. I had always felt an emptiness of not having a grandparent, silly as it may sound now, but not having a grandparent kind of bummed me out as a kid. I always felt left out during our elementary school’s annual “Grandparents Day,” or when kids would come back after school breaks regaling me with stories of how they spent it at their “grandma’s house.” Grandma (and Grandpa) filled that emptiness quite easily, and I haven’t felt it since.

During our time together I found Grandma so easy to talk to, so entertaining, that I couldn’t help but admire her life. She was a nurse, she was a wife, she was community activist and above all, she was a mother. At every gathering Grandma would have a story for me regarding raising her kids/grandkids and with each story she would have some sort of lesson to go along with it. She taught me things like : how to make a perfect pumpkin pie (even if it wasn’t from scratch), how to deal with a husband who was pushing your buttons(I use this advice daily), how to raise three children, and how to deal over-zealous conservative neigh-sayers who don’t know when to shut their mouths. Grandma also taught me to appreciate the little things in a day that make life worth while, whether it be having that vodka tonic at the end of a long day or listening to Frank Sinatra all night (both at the same time was preferable). She taught me that stepping back to create your own paradise was needed to keep your sanity.

When anyone was around Grandma she made them felt like the most important person in the room, her smile could brighten anyone’s day and her voice had the soothing calmness of a cool summer night. I loved these qualities about her, and I see that these qualities have been passed onto her grandson, which makes me love my husband even more. Grandma had always expressed to me how important her marriage was, and how it was the basis for her family. Sure, she and Grandpa bickered once in a while, but what’s a relationship without the bickering? It’s just boring, and Grandma and Grandpa were never boring. She told me stories of how they quickly fell in love and married, how they moved 11 times with their growing family, and how they danced often. My how these two lovebirds danced. Nine out of 10 times you would find them dancing to Sinatra. During these times, one could see both of their lips mouthing the lyrics of the song as they held each other closely making their way around the room. They had a solid marriage, and after 66 years of wedded bliss, they were still crazy for each other. I only hope Chris and I can be so lucky.

I said it before, I’ll re-iterate it now. I’m sad and broken-hearted that Grandma is not with us anymore. But I am so so happy that I got to be part of her beautiful life. My time with her was precious, as was anyone’s time with her. I'm comforted by the fact that she lived a long fulfilling life. She had three great kids, eight (ten with counting me and Naomi) beautiful grandkids and one totally awesome half-Asian great-granddaughter. Grandma said she knew she hit the jackpot when she met Grandpa, she just didn’t realize how big of a jackpot it was going to be. I’d like to think that Grandma was really the jackpot, and for those who met Grandma, they were the lucky ones. So thank you, Grandma, you certainly made me one lucky girl.

*In closing, I’m leaving you with two Sinatra songs. It’s only fitting for a woman who loved this man almost as much as her husband.

Tune Tuesday: Girls

2011-09-20T20:36:00.001-05:00

If you read my prior post, you will notice I thanked the bearded one for buying me the newest Girls album. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Girls. I pretty much fell in love with this band as soon as I heard them. I'm a big fan of Elvis Costello, and I feel that this band channels his energy and uses it as a musical force to be reckoned with. I hope you enjoy Girls as much as I do, because they're pretty awesome. Also I'm going to link their first single from this album. It's called "Vomit" and it's pretty effing epic. You might as well click on the link, because if you do a search for "Girls Vomit," you may not get something that's family appropriate. Just saying.

Dearest Bearded One,

2011-09-18T23:05:00.000-05:00

I know I haven't thanked you in a while, and it's not because I'm ungrateful, I'm just forgetful sometimes. So thank you. Thank you for going on cross-country adventures with me and keeping a cool head about it (more on that later). Thank you for putting up with me and my crazy family for a whole week. Thank you for getting me cupcakes on a rainy day. Thank you for marathon watching episodes of Dr. Who with me. Thank you for surprising me by buying the new Girls album on vinyl. Thank you for ordering a side of bacon, extra crispy, at breakfast gatherings with friends. Thank you for making me a dark and stormy today, it was delicious. Thank you for calling me a good person, even though I doubt myself. Thank you for researching new geeky shows premiering this fall season for us to watch. Thank you for loving the dog. Thank you for letting me take an absurd amount of naps. Thank you for quoting Zach Galifianakis jokes with me. Thank you for being a giant nerd and wickedly clever.

That's it. I'm finished for now.

Love,

Your Asian

They're just jealous we get 50 mpg

2011-08-26T19:53:00.000-05:00

What you are seeing to the left is what remains of our windshield after Wednesday night's events. What happened? Kids happened. Of the asshole variety. A little over a month ago, we had a similar incident happen, only they damaged just the windshield and managed to sacrifice what seemed to be a perfectly good watermelon. When the watermelon failed, they took rocks to the windshield, damaging it enough for us to get it replaced.

But that wasn't good enough. Wednesday night they were back with a vengeance. We're not sure what they used, but we know this, it was loud and it was mighty destructive. Around 10:30 just as I was placing my head on my pillow, I heard a loud noise. It sounded like a small bomb or a shot gun going off, it shook the house. Chris's dad said he saw a ball of yellow light (they were in the living room) and immediately went outside to inspect. Chris was still asleep, apparently the noise didn't stir him awake so I made my way up to investigate myself. What followed was a sequence of confusion and anger. I ran downstairs to break the news to my bearded sleeping beauty, he immediately jumped into protective mode.

A handful of neighbors came out to see the commotion, everyone was asking questions. But no one had an answer, just a handful of theories. Theories that didn't help the situation so I sat away from the crowd and watched from the porch. Someone had seen a young man running from the direction of our house towards the apartment buildings across the street. We speculated that's where the fuel efficient car-hating asshole(s) live. When the police officer finally arrived a half an hour later, we filed our report. I found her unprofessional and insensitive to our situation. After we talked to her for about a minute, I got frustrated and went back to the porch until it was over. Otherwise, I probably would have done something to get me arrested.

When it was over, Chris gently squeezed my shoulder, a sign that he knows we'll get through this. I was still angry. We lived in Westport for two years, parked on the street and nothing ever happened to us, not even once. We move to a residential neighborhood in the suburbs and this happens twice in less than two months. I may only be speculating, but I'm assuming this is the act of a child. A bored trashy child whose parents don't love them. A child who has nothing better to do than to pick on people who have nicer things than them. I don't care what their situation is I hope karma bites them hard. In the ass. Four hundred times over. I understand people do stupid things when they're young, but don't destroy other people's property, it just not cool.

So that's the saga of the Prius. We'll get it fixed and it will drive again in all it's fuel efficient glory.

And in other news...

I bought some Oreo Triple Doubles. I'm coping with this tragedy by eating my feelings. Oh and we're finally taking a vacation. Yes, this happened two days before our big trip into the arms of Hurricane Irene. Double awesome. Or should I say "triple double" awesome?

P.S. A couple of questions answered. 1) We do have a neighborhood watch. But when all of your neighbors go to bed around 8:30 p.m.-9 p.m. it doesn't really help. I did find out, we do have a couple of neighbors who have the right to conceal, so I'm hoping they get all vigilante up in this 'hood. 2) Other people in the neighborhood have had their property vandalized as well, just not as bad as us. But it's been enough for a couple of them to request a right to conceal. 3) We're not moving, especially now. We're saving for a house, but with the big NYC trip tomorrow and fixing the car, it has set us back a little. 4) I don't believe this is targeted towards me or Chris as individuals, we think it's because our car is a Prius. We have reason to believe there may be an anti-Prius gang roaming the mean streets of Independence. 5) With little evidence and sub-par police work, the culprit may never be caught. Though, I'm not really surprised about that.

Tune Tuesday-Silly Hipsters

2011-08-23T20:57:00.002-05:00

I guess you can say that today's hipsters are our generation's hippies. Meaning, they're all young *a-holes who are trying make some kind of a statement in some sense, whether it be through their music, fashion or politics. But what happens to these people when they have to grow up? Holy Ghost! explores this notion by depicting 50-something hipsters in their video. These moldy-oldy hipsters are both still in the Brooklyn scene: looking at records, sleeping in, performing with their band and wearing really tight pants from American Apparel. So they don't really grow up, just grow old. While one would think this concept would turn out awkward, these old dudes do a pretty stand-up job, I even found myself wanting to go have a beer with them. What I find the most amusing about this video is that the old hipsters are really the lead-singer and the drummer's fathers playing their sons as they live out a day in the life of a Brooklyn hipster with a semi-successful band. And if you were a true hipster, you would enjoy this fact and this video for it's irony.

*I'm totally using this as a term of endearment. Well maybe, I don't know. I guess it depends on the a-hole.

Mina Update

2011-08-19T21:40:00.001-05:00

Chris and I seriously have the cutest niece ever.

"Apparently today Mina took my purse and ran for the back door, yelling "fuuuuuck!". I swear I don't know where she learned that."-Naomi

I love this kid. A LOT!

Tune Tuesdays

2011-08-09T20:23:00.005-05:00

When I heard this song by M83 for the first time my first reaction was that it was a good song. Enter the saxophone riff at the end and it immediately turned into an amazing song. I love saxophone riffs in songs. I don't know what it is, but a saxophone riff in a song is pretty badass and just puts the song into a whole different spectrum. More songs need saxophone riffs, and I'm not talking about Kenny G caliber riffs. I'm talking epic riffs that stare you in the eyes and rip into your soul. I may only be speculating, but I think my love of saxophone riffs maybe because of WHAM, they may have something to do with it. So thank you, George Michael and that other dude, you introduced me to the art of a proper saxophone riff at a very young age.

For my husband...

2011-08-08T21:04:00.003-05:00

and his absurd love for Nic Cage movies. Chris has made me sit through every one of his stupid movies, it's enough to make a grown woman cry. But what can I say? I love that bearded man of mine, even if it means I have to sit through movies that star a man with horrible hair.

But I must admit, National Treasure is pretty awesome.

Salt: You can't undo that s***

2011-08-02T21:32:00.007-05:00

I finally made lasagna. It was delicious. It was perfect. It started out disastrous. It made me cry.

I don't know what was going on in my brain, but for some reason instead of one teaspoon of salt, I handed Chris one TABLESPOON. That's three times more salt needed for the recipe (for those who opened the recipe, we were making two, one to eat immediately and one to freeze). It wasn't until Chris asked, "Is there a reason why there's more salt than pepper?" that it clicked. CRIPES! It was too late, he had mixed it into the meat already. It's not like I didn't try to fix it, believe me I tried. More like: I begged, I pleaded, I YELLED at Chris to find a way to fix it, that dude can fix anything. But you can't undo that s***. You just can't. Before I knew it my tears and my $7 of meat were wasted and we had to throw it all out. I drove back to the store, calmed down a little, purchase more meat, came home and tried again. I was going to have lasagna dammit!! We managed (excuse me, I managed) not to eff up the second batch and it all came out perfect. Cooking lesson #1: Always pay attention to your measurements, especially salt, because YOU CAN'T UNDO THAT S***! (Recipe found here)

For good measure and to make me feel better I also whipped up some Lemon Puppy Chow. This was also delicious and very easy to make.

Tune Tuesdays

2011-08-02T21:14:00.001-05:00

Gene McDaniels recently passed away at the age of 76. This guy was amazing. At least his music will live on.

Love

2011-07-24T22:19:00.003-05:00

Today was the first day that gay New Yorkers were allowed to legally be married. And pictured above are Phyllis Siegel and Connie Kopelove, the first gay couple married in New York City. I think it's beautiful and bittersweet that these two women were finally able to marry. A right that they probably never thought they would live to experience in their lifetime. It makes my heart swell to see barriers like this being slowly broken down, I cannot wait for the day to see everyone in this country given the same right. Marriage is a privilege that everyone, EVERYONE, deserves to experience, whether they be, gay, straight, yellow, black or white. No one should ever be told it's wrong to love and it's wrong to be loved.

*Also please check out NY's Pop Up Chapel site by clicking here. My very talented future sister-in-law, Jessica, put it together. I can't wait to attend my awesome sister's wedding next month, where she'll marry this awesome lady. They're perfect for each other.

Tune Tuesday Revisited

2011-07-12T20:01:00.009-05:00

It's been a while since I've posted on here, and even longer since I posted for a Tune Tuesday. I can thank Pinterest for taking up my precious time. Seriously, I'm addicted. ADDICTED!

I've been listening to this song by Craft Spells (don't you love hipster band names?) quite often, it has become my summer anthem. I love it. It reminds me of my adventures with the beard and how much I love those stinkin' adventures. So enjoy Craft Spells, I'm looking forward to see what else these dudes have up their sleeves.

I give up

2011-06-27T20:27:00.004-05:00

Man is this saying ever apparent in my life now. I'm not poor in the traditional sense---I have a roof over my head, food to fill my stomach, my health, a cool energy saving car and a crapload of other things I should be thankful for, but yes, I'm poor. I'm a poor newlywed. Every time we have a little money saved up, an "adult" situation arises and we have to deplete it. We've been trying forever to save for a downpayment on a house, but things get in the way like, wedding expenses. Or doggie emergencies. Or 2009 tax returns that were not properly filed by your employer so you get audited by the IRS (those are fun, NOT). Or our latest headache, my car. I just want to get to a point where we're comfortable. I understand bills are apart of adulthood, but man, it's probably the shittiest part of it. And I wonder, if we're struggling now with just the two of us, how are we going to do it with a kid? Will I ever have my shit together for a kid? I can't wait until I have money and spend it foolishly on things like a giant yacht filled with popcorn or maybe even a house and kids...But right now that's all just a stupid dream, and I'm stuck in crappy adulthood, where student loans own your soul.

I like music

2011-06-09T21:06:00.000-05:00

I've turned into kind of a music nerd. I can only thank Sirius XM radio for that, it has expanded my horizons beyond the crappity-crap-crap they repeatedly play on Kansas City radio (one can only take so much of the Black Eyed Peas and Ke$ha). One of my favorite music blogs that regularly have a show on Sirius XM is, Aquarium Drunkard. This dude keeps up on the indie music scene and he regularly plays some obscure stuff from the late 50's/early 60's. I'd say his taste is pretty much on par with mine. When he played the song above for the first time, I thought it was a song from the 60's. But nay, I was proven wrong, Richard Swift is a modern artist and I love his stuff. I especially love this song. So enjoy.

Baking, it's a science

2011-06-07T18:09:00.002-05:00

If there were ever two flavors that belonged together, I would say that blueberries and lemon are pretty much meant for each other. For our wedding, they were the ingredients that made up our cake. So our new anniversary tradition will be to whip up a batch of blueberry lemon cupcakes (recipe found here) to remind us of that one time we ran off and did something for ourselves.

Above you see a picture of the results of our labor. Chris and I have decided to start baking from scratch more often. For me, I do it for the pure sugar highs I get from licking the spoon. And because he started reading this book, it gives Chris an opportunity to nerd out on another everyday activity. How does one nerd out during cooking? Well, Christopher weighs out the ingredients (wet and dry) in grams on our newly purchased kitchen scale. He then makes sure our oven is at the *correct* temperature by doing a simple sugar test in it. It's something about suger not melting at 350 degrees, I kind of tuned him out and let him geek out on his own.

In the end, these cupcakes turned out good, real good. I think I ate about three the night we made them, they were that good. I think the science of it all really contributed to the success of these cupcakes, because these were the first cupcakes that came out pretty much perfect. We will totally be trying out new recipes now that we have a new scientific approach to baking. I really want to try French Macarons, I just have to work up to it and have my resident nerd do the research.

Morbid-Tune Tuesday

2011-05-24T22:26:00.005-05:00

I want this song played at my funeral. I think about things like that because, one, sometimes I'm a morbid person. And two, I don't want crap music played at my funeral. Other requests for my funeral: anything by Elliott Smith, Arcade Fire's, "Wake Up," and all of Beach House's album Teen Dream. Actually you can just play all of Arcade Fire's aptly named album, Funeral. Funerals last for 4 hours, right? Because I'm afraid that's how long my "funeral playlist" will be.

One Year Married, 12 Years Together

2011-05-10T22:11:00.002-05:00

It's pretty mind-blowing how fast a year goes by. What's worse, is how fast 12 years goes by. I'm happy that I get to hang out with you for the rest of my life---

Because life with anyone else, would suck.

Sappy Stuff

2011-05-01T20:42:00.002-05:00

Fairy Tales....

are real.

And I'm the schmuck who continues to believe in them.

Royal Wedding

2011-04-29T04:32:00.005-05:00

I didn't think I would be up, but I was too excited not to. Who doesn't love a good wedding? I didn't set an alarm, I can thank the good ol' gut for waking me up.

Prince William was my first hardcore crush. I loved everything about him. He was blond, blue-eyed, and a prince (son of the oh-so beautiful Princess Di). How could I not be smitten? The romantic in me dreamed of the day when we would meet and fall in love, but then reality set in: ENGLAND WAS NOT READY FOR AN ASIAN-AMERICAN QUEEN (who's Catholic to boot)!! And it's true.

My favoritism for Prince William never bated, and instead of a little-girl crush, it turned into respect. We've both grown up, we've both moved on. I found my own bearded-nerd prince (he still has a full head of hair) and he found his perfect princess. Fairy tale endings for everyone!

Just like in the Restaurant

2011-04-17T10:17:00.002-05:00

Chris and I frequently go to Sunday brunch at a KC restaurant called Westport Cafe & Bar. We've gone so often the owner recognizes us. Not only is their food awesome, but you get a free cocktail (brunch appropriate like a bloody mary, mimosa, or a bellini) with your meal. I've tried just about everything on their brunch menu, but the last 5 or 6 times I've gotten their Eggs Norwegian. As you may surmise from the picture, it's like a traditional eggs benedict but instead of canadian bacon, you get smoked salmon. GENIUS!

As of the recent, we have not been able to make it out to our favorite brunch spot, simply because we are trying to save our pennies. But I've been seriously jonesing for some Norwegian Eggs Benedict. Being the adventurous (or not so adventurous, whatever) cooks that we are, we decided to give it a go. Despite the fact that: 1. we've never made a poached egg and 2. we have never really made hollandaise sauce. But because of a purchase made by Chris's parents recently, we felt more comfortable about making poached eggs. It was now onto conquer the hollandaise sauce, which was really my task. I did a bit of researching on the good ol' internet, and found a short instruction video. Seriously, it was not hard, and the sauce took about 5 minutes to make. What was I being such a pussy about?

So yeah, the Norwegian Eggs Benedict came out delicious, in fact, better than the restaurant's. Why? Because we made it. Though in the future, Chris is freaking making me a mimosa to go with my meal.