Tea and Cake Time

Movin' on up

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Sun, 06 Jun 2010 18:04:00 +0000

...to WordPress. I'm tired of deleting spam comments from Blogger, and my food blog lives on WordPress, anyway. So, come check out the new digs-- and pardon the dust, we're still getting things settled.

Too early?

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Wed, 28 Apr 2010 19:56:00 +0000

Even though the weather has been sort of lame the last couple days, there have been promises of a warmer-than-usual start to May. Also, I picked up some free minor league baseball tickets yesterday at Trader Joe's. What do these things have in common? Welllll...they're among the reasons I'm chomping at the bit (gross expression, I know) for this semester to be over, and for summer to hurry up and get here, already. Every summer, I like to make a list of Things I Must Do, For I Can Only Do Them During the Summer-- like enjoying warm weather (yes, I am extra-picky because it's not like our weather is ever that bad) and the occasional baseball game. Other than these two, I'm looking forward to a trip up to Sonoma with the in-laws in August, and a kayak outing in Monterey for which a Groupon has been purchased but not yet booked.

What are you looking forward to doing during the summer? (Keep in mind that I am incredibly jealous if your weather is nicer than today's cloudy bluster. Sigh.)

Drumroll, please

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Tue, 30 Mar 2010 23:20:00 +0000

Much to everyone's surprise, I'm sure, here are the winners of the Cooking, Travel, and Paper 200th Post Giveaway Extravaganza...

Cooking - Mrs. Gallery Place (Email me your address!)

Travel - RA (I feel like I should have your address somewhere, but my address book says otherwise. Email, por favor.)

Paper - Arielle (Got it covered. Get excited!)

In completely unrelated news, I think I'm getting some sort of seasonal urge to Eat Less Science. Maybe we can blame Jamie Oliver and his Food Revolution (actually haven't seen the show, but am definitely in favor of kids-- and adults-- eating Actual Food), but I think it's the burgeoning abundance of goodness at the farmer's market. Anyone else getting this feeling? Bueller?

Wouldn't trade it

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Sun, 28 Mar 2010 15:43:00 +0000

In the scheme of all the weekends in one's life, it's doubtful that this one would stick out. Nothing life-changing happened, no completely new experiences were had. But still, after a Friday in which I not only got to see the friend who was my maid of honor (for the first time since the wedding, nearly six months ago) and meet her boyfriend for the first time, but also have our house's inaugural barbecue with another set of friends, and a Saturday in which we were visited by cross-country friends and did our typical "look how great California is!" tour (wine-tasting on a gloriously sunny day), followed by a barbecue dinner and movie-watching, I have to say: I wouldn't trade it for anything. (You get ten points if you made it through that sentence. I don't think I should be able to write anything before 9 in the morning.) We're calm, we're happy, and we have all that we need. (Don't worry, though, I'll be back to writing unsent scathing letters in short order.)

Oh, and by the way: if you haven't entered the 200th post giveaway extravaganza...you should. Because right now, there are three entries. Three. And, um...that's how many things I'm giving away, and even I can do that math.

Have a wonderful Sunday, internet loves!

Dos mil

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Tue, 23 Mar 2010 02:21:00 +0000

In thinking about what I would write in this space for my 200th post, I thought a retrospective of sorts would be in order. As I'm not one for year-end reviews, and as a friend remarked that her "special occasion" posts tended toward the Oscar-speech end of the spectrum, I was determined not to veer too sharply into "You like me, you really like me!" territory. On the other hand...wow. Seriously. I know that I have lately been semi-regular at best about posting and commenting, and I know that I'll never be one of the Really Cool Kids, amassing hordes of blog-friends, but I have to comment on how much I appreciate what blogging and bloggers (two words which, the more I type them, sound sort of gross) have brought to my life. There is a handful of people in my life, a little pocket of my world, that just wouldn't exist without blogging-- and I'm so glad it's there! Not being a Big Deal means that I've never (knock on wood) had to deal with horrible anonymous commenters (Commentors? I can't decide.) the way others have, and the chances of being incriminated at work for something awful I've written about a colleague are slim to none. However, I am happy to know that at least there are the dozens, maybe, of you that care to read and even take the time to comment. Thanks.

Spring break has come a bit early (at least work-wise-- trust me, it's not a very interesting story), and I'm feeling generous. As such, I'm proposing a multi-part giveaway, having to do with things that play a big part in my life: paper (I'm a sucker for pretty paper, and do like a good bit of correspondence!), travel (I take trips, even if a good third of them are Disney-related), and cooking (uh, yeah.) I'll be giving away stuff from each category, so tell me what you'd like most! I'll choose winners at random, and announce them in, say...a week? Yes, on March 29. That's it.

And now, the booty. (Heh.)

Paper
A set of cards (pick your favorite) from Dots and Dahlias Etsy shop. Leave a comment telling me your proudest paper moment-- did you manage to get Christmas cards out on time last year? Remember Grandma's birthday? Carry on correspondence with a far-away love?

Cooking
An assortment of gadgets and goodies from Crate and Barrel and Sur la Table, two of my favorite fancy-supply stores. Tell me which gadgets you wish you had in your kitchen, from a Silpat to a citrus reamer, and they just might be yours.

Travel
Either a set of luggage tags or a passport holder (it says womens, but I think the red, green, and blue are plenty butch, for my male readers) from Flight 001. Describe your most memorable trip, and share your fantasy vacation-- a trek through the rainforest? Meandering through the streets of Prague? Sipping champagne in Champagne?

The bits and the pieces

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 01:06:00 +0000

I've been feeling so scattered recently-- I don't think it's because I've been that busy, exactly, but when I stop to think about it, I guess I have been. So...you get bullets!

epic amounts of Gilmore Girls-watching. Because the syndication on ABC Family just came back around the horn, I had the strange experience of viewing the final episode and the pilot back-to-back. At this very moment, I'm watching the second episode, where we meet Paris (who I love to little teeny pieces) and also contains the truly awful Chad Michael Murray, calling Rory "Mary." Could definitely do without him.
does anyone else have a truly evil cat (who is actually usually very sweet and completely lovable) that insists on chewing on the mini-blinds? No? Just me? Gah, this fricking cat.
spent last weekend in Tahoe, the highlight of which was making food for the six of us that went-- including pizzas, soup, and amazing balls of fried eggplant filled with smoked mozzarella. As I am only a fan of snow that I don't have to interact with (seriously, I am even underwhelmed by sledding), this worked out well.
next weekend will be full of wine-tasting. Love, love, love.
I gave up meat for Lent, and so far my only slip has been lox, which I ate by accident (but totally enjoyed, sorry baby Jesus). Giving up meat is way easier than giving up cheese was, but I have come to the conclusion that there is no way that this will end up being a weight-loss experience for me-- I just keep filling the void with more and more cheese and carbs.
velcro rollers. Thoughts? Techniques? I am afraid.

Oh, by the way...the next post will be number 200! As I likely have only about a dozen readers, your chances of winning one of the things I'm thinking of giving away are pretty good.

The Dude on the Couch

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 21:35:00 +0000

Oh, Valentine's Day. I feel like there is something of a spectrum of the way people feel about Valentine's Day, but people seem to cluster on either end, either declaring that they absolutely hate it or totally love it. Personally, I've never had a tremendous issue with it-- I like that there's a special day when you tell people you care about how much they mean to you (should there be a comma in there somewhere?), even if it is mostly made up by greeting card companies. Granted, I am a sap, and completely susceptible to marketing ploys of all sorts, but I can get behind the sentiments behind the celebrations. On the other hand, it seems sort of disgusting that so much of it is obligatory-- a dozen roses, heart-shaped boxes of chocolates, and Jan Seymour-designed jewelry? No thanks. I'm happy with the daffodils, and the fact that my husband just rewound the DVR to show me a commercial where dogs and cats are driving cars in a parking lot. Last year around Valentine's Day, Dooce posted something of a meme about her husband, and I think today is as good a day as any to trot out my own version.

What are your middle names?
Mine is Elise, and GP's is Peter. His mom once told me a story about how, as a youngster, he wanted to go by his middle name (as his father does). But when she told him that he'd have to learn to spell it, he was like, "The hell with that."

How long have you been together?
We met/started dating in September of 2006...so, what is that? Three and a half years? It seems simultaneously longer and shorter.

How long did you know each other before you started dating?
Well. We exchanged emails for a good 36 hours before we met...so, about 36 hours?

Who asked whom out?
Look. We met through the Magic of the Internet, and if you want to get technical about it, he was the poster and I was the responder. Craigslist, it turns out, is a good place to find things like, housing, furniture...and a spouse. I think the fact that we were both obviously looking for someone to date cut out a lot of the "Will we? Won't we?" b.s. that hangs around a lot of new relationships. We had no idea whether we would actually like each other once we got more familiar, but I think that the way in which our relationship began helped us cut through a good bit of the mess.

How old are each of you?
I'm 26, GP is 28.

Whose siblings do you see the most?
My brother lives about 15 minutes from us, and his sister lives across the country. (Oh, and my stepsister lives in San Diego.) So, unsurprisingly, we see my brother much more.

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
I wouldn't say that this is a constant source of tension between us, but it certainly came out a good bit when we were planning the wedding: we have different ideas about what degree of closeness we want, both individually and as a couple, with our families. GP lives thousands of miles from 99% of his family members, whereas my entire immediate family lives within driving distance. At the same time, he has expectations that our parents will be Best Friends, and I don't think of that as a priority. This has been the topic of many a...discussion, but we haven't had to overcome very much in terms of "Oh God, we're completely different people!"

Did you go to the same school?
Nope. Not at the same time anyway. (I'm looking at you, grad school.)

Are you from the same home town?
No. I'm a California girl, and he's quite the mid-Hudson New Yorker. That means he does charming things like dropping the "t" from the word "mountain." Yes, charming...we'll go with that.

Who is smarter?
I don't think we bother to compete here-- our intellectual interests and strengths are pretty different. He did do better on his SATs than I did, though-- a 1420 to my 1400.

Who is the most sensitive?
Um, me. Crying is pretty much one of my hobbies.

Where do you eat out most as a couple?
It really depends-- we're homebodies, so takeout/delivery is usually preferable. We do have our favorite local sushi and Italian restaurants, but I think now is the time to confess that we have a weak spot for the very-shameful Chili's.

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
Australia.

Who has the craziest exes?
Probably GP, as I have definitely been The Crazy in past relationships. Luckily, though, there is very little intrusion by exes into our lives, literal or otherwise.

Who has the worst temper?
Me. I feel all the feelings, and generally have to put more of an effort into keeping my shit together. GP, however, loves himself a Principled Argument...but I guess that's not really an issue of temper.

Who does the cooking?
Me. I love to cook, friends.

Who is the neat-freak?
We each have our Things That Drive Us Crazy in terms of neatness. For him, it's that I leave my shoes in the living room (I just kick them off when I come in), and for me, it's his "spit cup," into which he spits his sunflower seed shells. We're a charming pair.

Who is more stubborn?
Remember when I mentioned those Principled Arguments? This is a man who, when I pointed out how stubborn he is during one of our wedding-related heated arguments, asked me to detail the ways in which he was stubborn. "Uh, hello? Like right now!"

Who hogs the bed?
Me...but I can't help it! I need to be positioned just right in order to fall asleep. Unfortunately for those sharing the bed with me (you know, GP and the cat), it is rarely the same position from night to night.

Who wakes up earlier?
Unlike some people who can sleep happily into midmorning with their head in a little pillow-sandwich, I have to get up early to head to the internship.

Where was your first date?
We met at a bocce ball restaurant, then made our way to a pizza place. The rest of our marathon first date played out in a local park (I like to talk, y'all).

Who is more jealous?
Hm. GP? I guess.

How long did it take to get serious?
About 45 minutes or so. Really, things escalated pretty quickly-- we went from seeing each other three or four times a week to every day within about a month and a half. We moved in together less than six months into our relationship.

Who eats more?
GP, but I can give him a run for his money in dairy-containing things. I have no restraint when it comes to cheese, ice cream, etc.

Who does the laundry?
Whoever has the fewest pairs of clean underwear at any given time. He's not the best at folding and putting things away, so I don't mind doing it if it means wrinkle-free shirts.

Who's better with the computer?
The man has "engineer" in his job title (which is a funny joke between the two of us). He knows how to build Actual Websites. And he has the patience to explain why just smashing the computer and getting a new one isn't always the best best solution.

Who drives when you are together?
He does. He claims that I make him nervous when I drive, and I have no interest in learning to drive stick (which his car is)-- how would I be able to nap on long drives if I was the driver?

If you feel so moved, feel free to borrow this meme for your own blog purposes, or leave your responses in the comments! Also, Happy Valentine's Day...may your lives be filled with love every single day of the year.

Project Runway: "Run for Cover" recap-ish

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 18:45:00 +0000

So, okay, this started out as a recap and quickly devolved into me making notes and comments. I'll divide my thoughts and unrequited crushes from actual commentary on the show...you're welcome.

Episode-specific commentary
I get that Project runway has to show off its sponsors and affiliates and all, but come on-- it's the fifth challenge and you're doing two back-to-back? Campbell's was more egregious, but the editor of Marie Claire (who looks a bit like Tilda Swinton, don't you think?) is a bit much as well.

Other shows might do well to show off their also-rans, given that they are sometimes more popular than the actual winners (I'm looking at you, American Idol). On the other hand, does it diminish the win...? Oh, also, it seems sort of needless to have not-Tilda explain that magazine covers are cropped. None of the designers looks that blown away by this opposite-of-earth-shattering news, which is reassuring (good thing Jesus went home last week, otherwise we'd end up with a sick Tiger Beat look).

What's the twist? Is Heidi pregnant right now?

Let's review the things that we know Heidi likes, as evidenced by her judging over the years:

shiny things (season 2 floral challenge)
expensive-looking things ("It looks cheap, no?" Budget for this challenge is $150, which isn't terrible by PR standards.)
things that make her boobs look good (She always seems very concerned that the models' breasts look ok. I think this must be because of Victoria's Secret.)

I wonder how the fittings will work-- will Heidi just be traipsing from designer to designer? Oh...so the models are showing the clothes, and Heidi just picks what she thinks will look good on her? This seems less interesting than Heidi actually working as their model, but doesn't necessitate an extra judge.

Oh, also-- do these designers never have to deal with time pressure? I know that 24 hours to complete a piece is extreme, but they must have at least had to work with timelines before.

From the clips of judging before commercials: Janean cries (again!), Michael says they've never done something before (what could it be? Kicking off two people at once? I feel like that's happened before...).

Now for the runway show, pictures from which can be found here (and judging, in italics)...

Amy: I'm glad I didn't have to watch you construct this monstrosity. Heidi can be boho at times, sure, but that print! Jebus. Also, the rosette? Yikes. She does appear to have stuck to the aesthetic she has going on, though, as this looks a bit like her piece for the farm challenge.
Seth Aaron: A suit? With what appear to be mutton-chop cleeves? You can't "guarantee" shit, buddy.
Jesse: The new Jesus? I can see that model's vajay. I do like the basketweave on the bodice.
Anna: Maybe you will be one of those girls who is great at making clothes for yourself and for others with your same look (cute and hip and a little Anthro-like, but pretty straight-up-and-down rather than curvy), but I can't see you being a mass-market designer. Nina thinks it's shapeless, not-Tilda uses the phrase "slightly nauseous," Michael thinks it looks too young for Marie Claire, Heidi thinks it's well-made but doesn't push the envelope.
Anthony: I don't love it, but it might look pretty cool on a magazine cover. The color really pops, but we'll see what the judges say. Heidi grins at him and says it makes the model's body look beautiful, Michael declares the costume drama over (yay, Anthony!), Nina likes it and Anthony is proud to have won some praise from her, not-Tilda loves the color.
Janeane: At least you don't suffer from the hubris that some of the other designers seem to. The skirt looks a little stiff, and the little cap sleeves/sleeveless bolero thing? Not a fan. Michael is not impressed by the "sea" inspiration, Heidi thinks it's not fashion-forward, not-Tilda calls it a "polluted sea" (damn, girl), and Nina comments that it looks bridal. (After Janeane voiced the same concern as she was sewing! Follow your instincts, designers!)
Mila: Of course you love your dress. Those colors are going to wash Heidi the frick out, though. Michael tells Mila her "peach" looks a little more like "Ace bandage," Nina notes that the "arrows" are pointing right at the model's crotch (like in Naked Gun?), not-Tilda harps on the color again.
Emilio: Good color choice...but it looks a little like a nightie. I am not convinced by those straps. Michael appreciates that Emilio made the silk jersey look structured, not-Tilda says that it would make for a very strong cover, Nina loves the color but says it feels a little "junior" to her, and Emilio cuts the straps off and makes it all grown-up-looking. Apparently that's what's never been done before. Yawn.
Jay: WHOA. That, sir, is volume. Crazy, monochromatic volume. This moves well, and I like the one-shoulder, but I feel like it's the wrong kind of Too Much for a magazine cover.
Jonathan: Um. Is that a shirt? And...tap pants? Oh, a romper. Not a fan.
Maya: Eh. That front seam looks wonky. Not crazy about the colors.
Ben: Loves it! I'm happy he replaced the belt, and the colors are cool. Maybe not for an April issue (it just hit me why there are so many pastels), but this might be my favorite look of the episode. Michael thinks it's a good choice, Nina thinks it looks very modern and likes the color combo, Heidi likes the back, not-Tilda says it's a contender. (YAY!)

The winner (does not get immunity): Anthony, who yelps and asks if the judges "are for real." I want to hug him. Instead, he hugs Emilio on his way off the runway, and everyone seems very excited for his win,
The loser: Anna. Which makes Janeane bawl. Get it together, lady! Anna, who is sweet, appreciates the opportunity and gives a nice little goodbye.
Next week: New models-- little girls! I DIE. Also, oh my god, Jesse is going to snap and kill one of them.

Contestant notes
Mila, stop complaining that people didn't congratulate you on getting second place last time. I know you're a special snowflake, but come on. You are too old for that shit. Ooh, are you speculating about copying now? Don't be such a hall monitor. Turns out everyone hates you, and I can't say that I find anything that compelling to argue against them.

Jay, you are adorable, and appear to have some skillz. You know, apart from the insect-thorax you put your heart disease survivor in last week. Your hair looks fine, trust me. Also, I love your little towel turban! I must confess that Jay and Amy are two of my favorites because they are awesome and are representin' the Bay Area. Also, chances are slim that there will ever be a contestant from San Jose, so I've got to root for whoever is even remotely near.

"Icy color pallette...silver, light blue, and charcoal gray." Oh, Anna. You are so sweet. But those colors are going to make Heidi look like shit. Also, now is not the time to try to make a crazy amount of pieces. Seventeen minutes in, you are getting the loser's edit. I'm going to miss you.

"Short but not slutty." Good idea, Anthony. We do not want any "tootie" showing. I love you for saying that you "wish [Seth Aaron] would stop..." and not being a bitch about it. If only people on reality shows were more like grownups! "Did you smoke anything besides a cigarette when you went outside?" Anthony, can we have lunch sometime? I'll even buy. Oh, honey-- that sketch looks like something that Hollywood Montrose would like. (Can we have a Mannequin reunion, please?)

I like Ben. He could very well sneak into the top 5... "The magenta is looking fuchsia." Heaven forbid!! "Madame Butterfly on acid" is fine, but I hope that Carefree bubblegum pink doesn't make it into the final look.

Janeane: figure out your color story before you go shopping! Dude. Also, this "spewing out factor" (thanks, Tim) is going to look sort of strange on Heidi. What is Janeane going to do when Anna is gone? It seems that Anna functions as a sort of touchstone for her, at least in terms of seeing her as a kindred spirit. We need to get Janeane something to smoke outside "other than a cigarette" (thanks, Anthony!)...maybe it'd calm her down.

Jesse seems to be containing his murderous rage pretty well...so far. (We are nine minutes in.)

Seth Aaron is (thankfully) not this season's Jeffrey Sebelia, but should stop his singing in the workroom before I change my tune. (See what I did there? Yeah, I'm sorry.)

Jonathan, you may actually be a jerk, but at least you are funny about it. (Witness the exchange between him and Anna: "Are you making a dress?" "No, I'm making a spacesuit.")

Emilio, you are pretty badass-- and fairly awesome at following not-Tilda's advice about putting extra detain above the waist. I hope this works out for you.

Where is Amy? She's participating in this challenge, right?

Um, does anyone else think that Maya's look this week is really reminiscent of the look from her partner challenge (with Jay)?

T, to the A, to the S-T-Y

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 16:39:00 +0000

(Yeah, I refuse to misspell "tasty," even if that means breaking with some genius Black-Eyed Peas lyrics.)

Internets, I have to tell you something: I started a food blog. With friends! There is relatively little mention of Not My New Mommy, and there are only two recipes posted so far...but they are delicious! So go on, get over there.

P.S. Fear not! T&CT isn't going anywhere. I need a place to vent about all of The Crazy, and hope that there will be more than one person to send treats to when I do my 200th post!

Every party has a...

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 03:50:00 +0000

See, I draw the line at including the word "pooper" in the title of this post. The body, apparently, is fair game. But please, let me elaborate...

We had a Super Bowl party yesterday, just as we've done the two previous years. Though the Evite response was a little more lukewarm than I hoped it would be, we still had plenty of friends over-- enough to fill our living room and eat most of the (crazy amount of) food I made. And, of course, we invited my dad. He can always be counted on to bring the beer, and generally gets along with our friends, plus he always gets crazy excited about gatherings. He called about a week ago, asking if he could bring "a friend." Thinking that it would be one of his work friends that I'd already met, I asked who, and was told that his guest would be "a female." He confessed that he felt really awkward asking me in the first place, so I didn't press him for more information...though maybe I should have.

When he and The Guest arrived, only one of our other friends (one I've known since 6th grade, so knows the sad tale of my parents' divorce and my dad's lack of love life for the last, oh...decade) was there. They got out of the car, and when I let them in it was immediately clear that she was a good bit younger than he is. Now, my dad isn't the oldest of parents (next to GP's, my parents are children) at 53, but the fact is that both of his children are in their 20s. The Guest appeared to be, at the oldest, in her early 30s. We found out later that she was 28, which (and sorry for the all-caps) IS HOW OLD GP IS. Let me repeat this: SHE IS AS OLD AS MY HUSBAND. AND APPEARS TO BE DATING MY FATHER. I love my dad and everything, but here is the thing: he isn't wealthy (by any stretch of the imagination), he doesn't really have any "game," and he's not that good-looking. Any attraction that she might have to him is a complete mystery to me. And she is cute! What on earth is going on?

But I was determined to be a good hostess. We welcomed The Guest into our home, introduced her to all the friends in attendance (including two who are, like her, from the Seattle area). And then, at some point, it became clear that she was aiming pretty pointed comments at one of our friends...one who she had previously seemed to be getting along with just fine.

Let's have a pause to talk about the sense of humor that exists between me and GP, between us and our friends, and between us and my dad: we give each other a hard time. It is good-natured, and clearly so, and it is rare (nearly unprecedented) that someone actually takes us seriously. It seems practically impossible to me that anyone would think that they were being personally attacked by the jokes (jokes y'all!!) that we're making.

Back to the story. It's the third, maybe fourth quarter, of the game. There is shouting, cheering, heckling, what have you. The Guest is insisting that Peyton Manning is "her boyfriend," (take a number, bitch) which means that, upon every Colts snap, she begins baby-talking. "Come on, honey! You can do it, baby!" Shit that's funny the first, second, maybe the third time. But not, my friends, in the last ten minutes of the game. Our friend, J, says something to the effect of, "We get it, dude," and is met with scattered comments from The Guest that J is "so negative." Any comment that J makes is met with some little remark: "Of course you would say that." (Which, what the fuck. You just met.) And then, finally, the huffiest of huffs: "You know, J, not everyone is a FEMINIST!"

Hold the phone. This thing came out of nowhere. Seriously. Also, you came here with my dad, who I have marched alongside in Washington, D.C. chanting, "This is what a feminist looks like." Clearly someone's signals have been crossed. Oh, also...my dad was out of the room at the time.

J, not being one to shy away from confrontation, turns and says that there is clearly an issue that The Guest has with her, and can they please just have it out and be done? And The Guest says-- you guys are going to love this-- "You couldn't handle it." Would it surprise you to know that, at this point, I wanted to drag her out of the room by her ear?

My dad and The Guest left about fifteen minutes later (shockingly, it felt like a fricking eternity), and that's when the discussion began. What was that? Well, let's give her the benefit of the doubt: it's her first time meeting all these people, maybe she was nervous, maybe she had too much to drink, clearly she took something personally, maybe she doesn't get out humor, etc. Allow me, however, to freak out a little. When you are meeting people for the first time-- especially the child of someone you're dating-- don't you want to make a good impression. If she is actually just a friend (though my dad described her to GP's mom as a "special friend"), there is just no excuse for that. As for the "too much to drink" excuse...I don't buy it. You're a fucking adult. Keep your shit together.

I'm waiting for my dad to call and solicit feedback-- it seems too terrible to call him and go, "Yeah, The Guest? We completely hated her." And of course, when he does ask, I will be honest and tactful. Because, though I am two years younger than The Guest, I know the value of adult communication. Short of a pretty intense apology (because you do not come in to my house and act incredibly rude to my friends), I have no desire to give The Guest a second chance.

Thanks for making it all the way through this rant, if you actually did. Now, tell me, am I being a total crazypants? Or do you think I'm right to want to slap The Guest right across her bony little face?

Today we lunch in the tub!

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 01:55:00 +0000

I've been feeling a bit under the weather, and took to bed immediately upon getting home from my half-day of interning (oh yes, my life is so hard...I had to work for four whole hours today!). The kitty, of course, was a fan of this idea, and I decided to capitalize on my illness and "let's just stay in bed" mood and make the queen-size ground zero for all my afternoon operations. Luckily, this only included a bit of reading, a rousing round of Plants vs. Zombies (hopelessly addicted, sorry), a lunch of Goldfish crackers, and a few hours of Rick Steves' Europe that had built up in the Tivo. Over IM, I had to let GP know that Sydney and I had decided to conduct all of our business henceforth from the bed. He, of course, pointed out difficulties like using the bathroom and going to work. Because he is a curmudgeon.

In potentially exciting news, we're coming up on T&CT's 200th post! I didn't do any celebrating for the 100th, but I was thinking of rewarding one (or a couple, who knows) of my faithful readers (you're still there, right?) with a giveaway of some sort. Ideas? I'm a lady of limited means but solid culinary skills-- maybe some salted caramels? How well would my gougeres ship?

(Did anyone else read this book when they were a kid? It's funny how some things stick in your mind. P.S. The New House doesn't even have a tub, which is sort of a bummer.)

O HAI, oh-ten...

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Fri, 29 Jan 2010 15:28:00 +0000

In the post-Christmas return from New York (where we spent Christmas with GP's family and my dad), things just sort of...took off. As in, after a leisurely two weeks off work (and still in the midst of my gargantuan winter break from school), we went to Tahoe for the weekend. (Where I was not mocked for wanting to stay at the cabin and read, then cook dinner for six people. Skiing and snowboarding do not work well for me on the effort-to-enjoyment ratio.) The following weekend, we went up to San Francisco to see Wicked. (The verdict: good, with some great songs, but the songs were mostly too thematic and not expository enough for me. That doesn't mean I'm not singing them around the house still, though.) And then the weekend after that? We went down to Disneyland for our annual pilgrimage-- no kidding, we hit a Disney park every year. (Seriously. Remember the Great Disney World Extravaganza of 2009? This particular trip included a delicious visit to the Napa Rose.) Oh, and in the midst of all these weekends? We moved. Out of our crappy, small apartment, and into a lovely, still-pretty-small-but-in-a-charming-way house. 2010 is shaping up to be a busy year so far, and I am thankful that, this weekend, we will have little else to do besides alternating sitting around and hanging things on the walls. Sigh.

Oh, and a bonus of having this cat, which I didn't realize until we moved into a century-old house with one central gas heating unit? He has so many warms. Thanks, kitty.

The "Oh, snap. Remember when we got back from our honeymoon A MONTH AGO?" post

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 16:58:00 +0000

Uh, yeah. I don't know how this happened, but somewhere in between flying home, unpacking, going back to work, attempting to catch up on schoolwork (sidebar: this semester? Not my best performance), getting through two-thirds of our thank-you notes, adopting a kitty, changing my name, getting back into the swing of cooking rather than eating out all the time, and gorging myself at Thanksgiving...I sure did not finish my Very Exciting Honeymoon Recap. Sorry. So what you get now? Is just a small explosion of my favorite pictures with a sentence or two thrown in for some extra tastiness.

Leaving Sydney, we headed up to tropical North Queensland-- Cairns and Palm Cove, specifically. While there, we hit the beach (which was about 50 yards from our hotel lobby-- pure bliss)...

trekked, took a gondola, and finally rode a train through the rainforest...

and, knowing that we had to take advantage of the fact that we were so close to such an insanely beautiful natural wonder, went out on the Great Barrier Reef. Our underwater pictures ended up sort of lamely, but! There was tea and cake time on the boat. I died.

and champagne! Or sparkling wine, at least. Whatever, there were bubbles.

And then it was on to Melbourne, complete with my fancy new sunburn (because it is some sort of law that no matter how much high-factor sunblock I slather on, I will be charred, while GP barely dabs it on and he is just fine). I really loved Melbourne because it's so neighborhood-y and really rewards you for just walking around-- there is a lot of cool stuff down some of those alleys! (Including a duty-free shop in Chinatown where I scored a ton of cheeeeeap Jurlique products. Sigh.)

We found our first dinner in Melbourne down one of the alleys-- delicious Chinese, complete with lots of wood paneling. Thanks, Fodors!

The next day, a walk down to the Yarra River that runs through the city.

Then a trip to the Old Melbourne Gaol, where Ned Kelly was hanged. (Note: the Ned Kelly movie with Heath Ledger is free on Hulu! Total win.)

And lo, the walk back to our hotel from the Gaol included a pass by the Victoria State Library! Another win.

We took in a performance of Chicago at a theater down the street from the hotel. I was worried about the accents, but the actors managed well-- is an American accent an easy one to imitate? I wonder...

Our last full day in Australia was occupied with a tour of the Yarra Valley, one of the country's wine-growing regions. (Like we were not going to go wine tasting on this trip. I mean, come on.)

GP tried kangaroo at lunch--turns out it is sort of a cross between beef and venison. (I had the vegetarian entree, a better-than-usual lasagna. You're welcome, animals.)

We ended the day at Chandon-- sort of funny, considering we haven't been to the one up in Napa yet.

Ok, that's the Official Honeymoon Wrap-Up! Now we can move on to more important things, like me complaining about the shipping of all the Christmas gifts I've ordered online, talking about my cat (I can't stop, I'm sorry), and being crazy-excited about the finale of Top Chef (Team Kevin, all the way. Or Jen, I love her, too. Really, anyone but the obnoxious Voltaggio brother.).

Oh, and my birthday is tomorrow. Yay!

I have a Big Fat Crush

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 05:34:00 +0000

...on Jason Segel. This clip isn't helping.

Apparently he's friends with Markéta Irglová and Glen Hansard (of Once fame) and did some guest-singing at a concert they did in LA recently. GP should be thanking his luck stars that we don't live in LA. I'm just sayin', is all.

P.S. That is allegedly his actual number. Say it with me, "Z-O-M-G."

Finding the warmth

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 13:35:00 +0000

"Hello babies. Welcome to Earth. It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round, and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you've got about a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of, babies:—God damn it, you've got to be kind."
-Vonnegut, God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater

I don't know if it's the season (impending holidays of the kith-and-kin variety) or that I'm still in the early phases of Disgustingly Happy Little Married Couple-dom (and, sorry, I know that's gross, but stay with me!), but I have begun to see and experience many more little moments of happiness on a semi-regular basis. Let me elaborate: you know how sometimes, as you're scraping yourself out of bed, trudging through your day, and bemoaning the fact that it is pitch-fricking-black outside by 5:30pm, you get a little flash of "we're all ok"? I seem to be having way more of these than usual these days.

Take, for instance, a recent account of Nice People on the Internet. I wasn't personally involved in any of these interactions (although, trying-to-be-a-good-blog-citizen that I am, I did comment), but just reading a story of people-- essentially complete strangers-- going out of their way to be helpful and nice, made me think that maybe people aren't that terrible, after all. It seems simple enough, right? You have something, someone needs or wants something, and you give it to them. Not because you have to, but because you want to. Because you want to help them out, to solve a problem of theirs, no matter how small or silly-seeming.

I've been trying to have this same attitude recently; give and help where you can, remember that everyone is dealing with their own bubble of stress/problems/dear-god-who-knows-what, and do more good than harm. Instead of giving the finger to someone who cuts you off in traffic (and y'all know how much I love to do that), give them a thumbs-up and continue singing along to the Glee CD you have blaring in the car. Be patient, and be nice.

And it comes back! Here is my proof. I've needed to replace one of my front turn signals, the one that would be the biggest pain to replace (as it is almost entirely blocked in by the placement of my battery), and had just not "gotten around to it yet." I finally bought the cheapie bulb, resigned myself to the fact that Volkswagen are jerks and will just tell you to go to the dealer for what amounts to a $2 fix, and armed myself with two kinds of screwdrivers (from my very own toolbox, because I am a badass). Sure enough, the Jetta was determined to be a jerk-- I fought little plastic pieces, clawed at the black box that contained the defunct bulb, got my hands dirty, but made very little progress toward my goal. Seeing my struggle, this man-- who I had never seen, met, or interacted with before-- approached and offered to help. "Let me just go get some sockets, and we'll take out the battery and get that bulb in," he told me. He returned with an arsenal of tools (and no fear of my car's battery, which for some reason terrifies me) and, within ten minutes, I had a fully functioning turn signal.

We introduced ourselves, I thanked him profusely, and then we parted. I don't know that I will ever see him again, but I am surprised at how surprised I was that he offered to help. He didn't have to, of course, but he saw me clawing at the insides of my car and knew that he could be of assistance. I may be attributing this too much to the Magic and Wonder of the Human Heart (it's all the dang Christmas commercials...I am terminally sentimental), but come on. Let's be appreciative that not everyone is a jerk all the time. We don't have to hug and share sundaes all the time, but be nice, dammit.

What Australia has to teach you

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 00:00:00 +0000

1. In continents/countries that are so geographically isolated, there is a crazy amount of biodiversity. This sounds boring, sure, but it does mean that there is insanely colorful wildlife. (Also, hello, platypus. So cute and venomous.)

2. Speaking of biodiversity, there are also many threatening and dangerous animals in Australia, including many not-pictured-here (but in Flickr for the strong-hearted) colossal spiders and likely countless (though only one is pictured here) reptiles that would gladly dismember you. Also a valuable lesson? Australians have awesome senses of humor, if a little dark at times.

3. You will feel infinitesimal when you realize that the ocean that chills your toes at Bondi is the same one that freezes your feet in Santa Cruz. All the wine you consume in Bondi almost makes you forget this, but not quite.

4. BYO is a huge (like seriously huge) thing in Australia, and you will come to love it. There is often no corkage for wine you bring yourself, and if there is one, it is likely something like $5 per person. Before you get the hang of things, though, it is likely that you will enjoy a meal with nothing but "orange drink" to wet your whistle. (This may have been Tang. Do they have Tang there?)

5. Nothing takes the edge off traveling like drinking before noon in an airport. There will usually be at least one other person at the bar, and you might be able to claim jet lag-- though likely not in the domestic terminal.

The one where we went to Sydney

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 19:59:00 +0000

As you may be able to imagine, this honeymoon recap is going to span several entries. What is slowly dawning on me, however...is that it's likely that Sydney alone demands multiple mentions. Don't worry, though, they'll be picture-filled (we did, after all, take 585 pictures)!

We departed SFO late Tuesday night, and, through the magic of flight and time travel, completely missed out on October 14th. After landing in Sydney and dropping our bags at the hotel, the exploring began! We started with some tea and scones (I knew I could expect great things from a country with The Queen on their money)...

...and proceeded to explore much of the major tourist area in Circular Quay, The Rocks, and the CBD. This included a tour of the Opera House (which we could not stop photographing),

a walk across the Harbour Bridge,

and a short stop at an amusement park (you're welcome, GP).

We arrived back to the hotel to find our room had been prepared with some champagne and a note-- Marriott must have known that alcohol was the way to secure our loyalties.

Our first dinner-- tapas at a Spanish place called El Capitan Torres-- was not as magical as it could have been, because it was then that all the exhaustion of traveling halfway around the world and traipsing all over the city of Sydney caught up with us. As we munched on crispy chorizo and chilled white wine, it was all we could do not to pass right out, sitting there at the table.

However! (And here is the great thing about flying west versus flying east, we discovered.) When we woke up the next morning, we were well-rested and ready to go. Some activities that filled the remaining four days that we had in Sydney included a trip to the Taronga Zoo...

(Those giraffes have no idea how good they have it. Check out those insane city views!) There was also a little wallaby-petting:

(GP maturely pointed out that I was touching the wallaby's butt. What was I supposed to do, buy it dinner first?) Also, a trip out to Katoomba, in the Blue Mountains, was in order. Apparently "hiking" is a thing people want to do on their honeymoons?

Well, someone should have told me that, because I hiked for miles and miles in flip-flops. Comfortable, lovely flip-flops that drew numerous sideways glances from other (actual) hikers who were trekking along with those ski pole-like things that somehow make what amounts to slow mountain climbing easier (and also double as weapons against whatever terrifying creatures were rustling around in the underbrush). Oh, and might I add that, while there were stairs to help in the climbing of the Three Sisters (pictured above), some of these stairs were over thin air? Not cool, Australia.

But we lived to tell the tale! Coming up next, valuable Australian lessons.

The first of many: remember that time I got married?

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 22:43:00 +0000

I'm trying to get Blogger to let me change my "identity," but it looks as though the best that's going to happen is adding my married-lady Google account as an author to the blog. So don't be confused...there is only one Megan around here, she's just in a weird, between-names place. (What a great excuse to have ADD and just create a new blog, though, right? I've been toying with the idea of naming a new blog "Hot MES," because those are my initials and I am often in ridiculous situations. I feel like it's dumb to call myself "hot," though, so that is a problem. Opinions?)

Anyway, to the task at hand! Since there was very little blogging lead-up to Wedding Day, let me fill you in on some key stuff: the event coordinator at the venue (cute downtown hotel) hadn't proven herself any more useful as time passed, I had a completely disastrous post-alterations fitting in which it was a challenge to get the zipper up (tears, shockingly, did not ensue), and I had completely lost the ability to sleep past, ohhh...5:30am? And yet, as it got closer and closer, I got more and more calm. I was able to tune out the idiocy of the coordinator (and ended up loving the hotel's day-of person), I went on this crazy (and probably pretty unhealthy, though I was still eating) diet and lost enough weight to be comfortable and attractive in my dress (and haven't gained back all the weight since, yay!), and I made the most of my all-the-time wakefulness with a ton and a half of craft projects. I was ready!

We got married on a Sunday, and people started getting into town around Thursday, which made my decision to only work Monday a pretty easy one. Things really started on Friday, when my mom and stepdad threw a wedding-weekend-kickoff cocktail party at their house. It was a lovely evening, and a good reminder to me that, since I wasn't eating much, maybe I shouldn't drink a ton. Unlike an engagement party that my mom and stepdad had thrown for us last August (well, last-last...it was August 2008), my dad wasn't invited-- not to be hurtful or exclusive, but I would say that it's the norm for divorced couples not to invite their exes to parties. This isn't terribly important now, but will become more so later. (Just trust me, ok?)

On Saturday morning, I took my maid of honor and bridesmaids out to breakfast and had scheduled a mass mani/pedi appointment for any in-town ladies who wanted to get together pre-rehearsal dinner-- this included out-of-town people and friends of mine and my mom's, etc. However, when we were on our way to the nail salon, I got a call from the owner, confirming my appointment for Sunday. As in, the day of my wedding. This would not do! Luckily, we all got our nails done and no one was the wiser-- and I think that was my only episode of "bride brain." Thank god. We arrived at the hotel later that afternoon for the rehearsal, during which my dad spotted the very meticulous timeline I'd put together on a bridesmaid's clipboard. Pointing at the entry for the Friday cocktail party, he asked my friend, "See that?" Gulp. "I wasn't invited." Fun, dad, thanks for that.

Saturday night was our rehearsal dinner, a delicious and less-stressful-than-I-feared spread put on by MaGP and PaGP. As the spokesperson for the couple, I got to be the one to give the thank-you speech and kick off the slideshow, a tearjerker complete with Ben Harper soundtrack (seemed more appropriate at the rehearsal than the wedding). I (unlike a certain spouse of mine) wrote all my cards to parents and the soon-to-be in-laws and husband, and finally managed to get some sleep.

Now, I could give you a blow-by-blow of the wedding day, tell you about hanging out in the hair-and-makeup room with the girls, listening to music from Glee to pass the hours and hours before the ceremony, waiting anxiously to do the "first look" photos with GP, and mildly panicking when I was told it was time to go and my fricking dad was nowhere to be found, but all you really want are pictures, right? Well, who am I to deny you? (NB: these are just stolen pictures from Facebook, not the lovely ones that I anticipate from my awesome ninja photographer.)

I had both my dad and stepdad walk me down the aisle.

I surprised myself (and GP, and many others) by not crying my eyes out during the ceremony. Instead, because it was so surreal, I had to stop myself from giggling a little.
Then, what seemed like about 2 minutes later (seriously, our ceremony felt so short!), we were married. Good thing we had practiced that kiss!
What we had not practiced was appropriate hand-holding. Let me explain: by the time we were getting closer to the kissing part of the ceremony, GP had developed a death grip on my hand, and my ring was digging into my left pinky finger. It did not feel awesome. But as the kiss got closer and closer, I knew I couldn't pull back, pause, and go, "Ow! Nice hands, please, sir." So I just went with it. And, not to bombard you with pictures of us kissing (I assure you it was an appropriate kiss), but come on... (and look how happy GP's sister looks!)
With all the kissing and finger-mangling done, we were ready to take our triumphant walk back down the aisle as husband and wife.
I had to pause for a second to collect myself...
(don't judge my double chin! I love this picture despite it)
After the cocktail hour, we had the dad and stepdad toasts (respectively short and blessedly tear-free, and long and sentimental), we ate our delicious meals, had the best mens' and maid of honor's toasts...and at some point got to eat cake. I love this picture because it shows a fraction of the awesome job our florist did.
He also made us some gorgeous centerpieces (there were three styles in all, distributed among our eleven tables). That program, though (and the ninety-nine others just like it)? All me.
Here we are cutting the cake-- less awkward than I feared, and with an Ingrid Michaelson accompaniment-- with our super-sweet photographer all up in our grills (oh yes I did).
When I have the much-anticipated pro pictures, I will share some of my favorites, but for now, I leave you with this: one of the more adorable ones of my brother, who was so sweetly teary the whole day. (And called me the previous Thursday to say that the Jim/Pam Office wedding made him cry because he was thinking of us. That kid!)

Up next: some honeymoon recaps!

NaNo...not even going to attempt

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 04:21:00 +0000

I don't think that the best way to welcome myself back to Blogtown USA after taking a "Hot damn, I'm getting married and going on a big fat honeymoon, y'all!" break for the last month and a half would be to try blogging every single day (witness my previous failure to do this), but I promise you this, blogfriends: you will have the wedding preamble, wedding day stories, and honeymoon recaps by the time Thanksgiving rolls around. Well, I guess I can push it back to my birthday if I'm being realistic. But that's it! December 2 is my self-imposed deadline for getting all. These. Stories. Into writing!

The short version? I got married! It was awesome! Then? We went on our honeymoon. Also awesome! But then, last Friday, we had to come back home, and today...they made me do work. Which is not as awesome as vacation, even though I enjoy my job and coworkers. So at this moment, all I really want to do is play with my duty-free Jurlique products and come closer to finishing My Life In France.

In which I feel like a narcissist

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 02:51:00 +0000

(Which is sort of moot, this being a blog and all.)

Anyway. Last month, my mom and Grandma threw me a gorgeous shower at a local mansion, and asked everyone to wear hats. It was an adorable theme, and I got some sweet gifts. I hadn't blogged about it yet because I was waiting on the pictures from my photographer, who came to shoot us for about an hour. Much to my great delight, he had the pictures ready yesterday-- and here are some of my favorites:

Um, ok. I make this face a lot. I am, probably thanks to (and much to the great chagrin of) my mother, a terrible eye-roller. Like, to the point where she would say, "Don't roll your eyes at me!" When my back was to her. Moms are magic, aren't they? Anyway, now it is something I do to convey strong emotion of any kind. In this case, joy. Or maybe anticipation, who knows.

Between my mom and GP's mom, who made the trip across the country to come to the shower. Bet you can guess who is who!

Seriously, how cute is my Grandma? If you answered, "Quite," then you are correct.

Here, two thirds of my bridal party are seeking shelter under my enormous hat. (Notice that they both wimped out and are wearing fancy headbands.)

The only bouquet I will ever throw, because I think that it's sort of a mean tradition. At the wedding, we'll be giving the "toss" bouquet to the couple in attendance that's been married the longest (might be my aunt and uncle, or maybe even GP's parents!).

Finally, all the ladies together! I am usually sort of "meh" about group photos, because invariably someone is blinking or making a weird face...but this one ended up very nicely, I think.

This Guy

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 21:29:00 +0000

He offered to guest post, and I nearly spit out my wine. "You would? Really? That would be so awesome." I do, at times, feel like I can only say so much about how annoying I find Taylor on the Rachel Zoe Project and post so many pictures of my kitchen experiments. So get excited, friends-- GP is at least nine kinds of fun.

Whether he's expressing frustration (but still appears to be smiling) at a lousy crossword clue...
Being terrified on a theme park ferris wheel (there's the smile again-- what gives?)...
Taking in a 3D movie about bugs, that happens to be narrated by Dame Judi Dench...
Or just taking a break and enjoying a good old-fashioned game of ball-in-a-cup (yes, that's what that blur is)......he is generally pretty good times. Bonus: he knows all my secrets, and will probably tell them to you if you offer the right combination of booze and salty meats. If you have questions, ask 'em, and if not...well, get excited, because who knows what the hell he'll end up writing about.

Easy as 1, 2, 3

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 19:54:00 +0000

Three years ago yesterday, I arrived (a couple minutes late, of course) at what would end up being my last first date. It was a date that lasted eight hours, and didn't end with a kiss (yes, I still occasionally get razzed for that). What did follow this marathon date were innumerable emails, texts, phone calls, and late-night viewings of dvr-ed Futurama...oh, and then, about a year and a half later, there was a marriage proposal. In Paris. Because we are jerks like that.

So, how does one celebrate an anniversary that falls just a month before one's wedding? With Ina Garten recipes! And champagne! Observe...

There were gifts! But don't be fooled-- this box contains socks and t-shirts. Oh yes, the romance is still very much alive.
See? You send the man to the grocery store on his way home from work because you forgot to get blueberries, and he comes home with flowers. Win!

The pre-dinner libations: whiskey sours, Ina recipe #1. Totally worth making the simple syrup and squeezing the fresh lemon and lime juice. Also, very pleasantly boozy. Not pictured: pigs in blankets-- a snack that I find generally pretty gross, but GP loves. Compromise, y'all!

The dinner! It was my first time making any type of steaks at home, but the Safeway guy assured me these ribeyes would be delicious (and they were, with just a little salt, pepper, and olive oil)-- oh, and on top? That would be Ina's Provencal butter. So worth dirtying up the food processor. Also pictured: not-fancy-at-all, previously frozen fries, and broccolini with balsamic vinaigrette.
And for dessert? Ina to the rescue again (with even more butter) with a summer fruit crostata. So, so easy and delicious, especially because I was able to find some gorgeous peaches at the market. Because we were celebrating (because nothing says happy anniversary like dessert and a West Wing episode), there was some Gloria Ferrer Royal Cuvee. Fanciest Tuesday night. Ever.

This guy...I think I'll keep him around. Also, I think I've discovered how Ina has kept Jeffrey around for all these years-- pump him full of butter, and his heart will give out at anything faster than a brisk walk.

What I'm loving right now...

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 02:47:00 +0000

This is one of those posts that begins composing itself in one's head a good two or three weeks before it finally gets posted. Not to say that the quality of the writing is that greatly improved, but it does mean that I really, truly do love these things...

New Sephora acquisitions: I am always so excited to make my final selections after loading my basket with a ton of "maybe" items. When I get home, I find myself tearing open the (pretty, pretty) packaging and using whatever I have purchased. Case in point-- went with MaGP when they were in town a couple weeks ago for my shower (which, ok, I am lame and haven't talked about or posted pictures...but I'm waiting on our photographer to send me the pictures!), and bought a Jurlique sample pack (am totally in love, convinced that I need to buy products that include a nearly-$70 "herbal recovery gel," oh yes I do) and Laura Mercier Magical Flawless Skin Set (or something like that, seriously, they should let me name their products). Got home and headed straight to the bathroom for face-washing and makeup-putting-on. Pure magic, I tell you.

West Wing. Period. I don't know where the hell I was when this originally aired (high school? Gah, what was I watching instead of this?), but I am so happy to have it in my life now. We have borrowed seasons 1-4 from one of GP's friends, and burned right through them. I'm downloading season 5 right now, and...oh my god, you guys, I am in love with AMERICA! And Josh Lyman, and, yeah, a little bit with Will Bailey. But that might just be residual Jeremy-love from my Sports Night watching (another Sorkin show, quite lovely, really. With Peter Krause, so...bonus!).

String cheese. Where have you been all my life, low moisture, part-skim mozzarella? Never leave me, ok? (Remember that time I gave up cheese for Lent, even though I am not the biggest fan of Jebus? Wasn't that just awful?)

How little time there is until The Wedding. Ha, you thought you'd be able to get through a single post without me mentioning it? You, my friend, are a fool. Because I have only one month and three days left, and I. Am. Ready for this thing. I am tired of making decisions, and already of chasing down the seven delinquent RSVPs, and tired in advance when I think about how ridiculous all the little things that we have to do before we can just Be Married are. But that's why we do them, right? Because we are convinced that, at the end of the day, it will be worth it. And I know it will.

Um, not to go back to something as silly as television, but I am more than reasonably excited for all my shows to start! I am filling the void with Bravo reality programming (I am more of a fan of old raisin-faced Rachel Zoe than I thought, though I want to throw Taylor straight into a swimming pool, Melrose Place-style) and new Project Runway (my favorite so far? Shirin.), but I have already re-watched the Glee pilot once (and am not above watching it again), and can't wait for new seasons of 30 Rock and The Office. Too bad we have to wait until January for more Lost...

Twitter! I am so late to the party on this one that it's a little silly to be so up in arms about it, but...I am. In my boss's absence, I am co-manning the library's Twitter account, and let me tell you, organizational Twitter accounts, especially in our field, are fricking boring. Mine, I promise, is much more entertaining. It is much as I thought, very similar to my Facebook status updates, but more conversational. I still can't believe that there aren't more younger Twitter users--I believe there was a quote in the NYT article about Twitter where a teenager said that Twitter seemed "more, like, professional," and I say to this teenager...what? I am sort of living in fear of any potential future employers (who we will assume lack much of a sense of humor, for the sake of argument) discovering my tweets. Professional, my ass.

Also. Get excited, friends! I took GP out for dinner last night to mark a birthday that officially means he is in his Late Twenties, and the blog came up...and he offered to do a guest post. So. Get! Excited! It is likely to be wedding-or-mawwage related, but will be completely different from my constant oh-my-god-I'm-going-to-kill-someone wedding rantiness. Anyone have a question or two for him? I'm sure he will be happy to oblige...

The Best-Friend Problem

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Fri, 04 Sep 2009 17:21:00 +0000

Warning: this post starts mushily, and will end even more so. For the faint of heart, click away now!

Ok, so for the same reason that I do not have a favorite color (I am not nine years old), I do not really have a "best friend." I don't want my friends to think that they have to compete for my affection (because you know there would be fistfights if they did), and each friendship is so different that I wouldn't even know where to begin choosing a "best." A related problem to this is that I am fairly uncomfortable even using the term "best friend"-- I don't describe anyone as such, and can't really bear to say that I am "marrying my best friend." Just like "journey" and "soul mate," "best friend" sort of makes my skin crawl. I can't explain it...and, because we are writing our ceremony with a lot of help from our awesome officiant, I don't have to. What I do have to do, however, is find adequate words to express what we're feeling. Commence brow furrowing!

And then. Last night, amid cheers and agonized cries brought on by the beginning of college football season, GP turns to me and says, "You know how you are trying to find another way to say 'best friend' for the ceremony? What about...constant?" He assured me that he was about 40% joking, and it may have been the combination of beer and cheap riesling responding, but I was instantly won over. Sure, it is a fairly dorky term from a television show. But! People who know it in the context of Lost are likely to smile along, and people that don't know the connection are likely to still "get it" and appreciate the term for its own, non-sci-fi-tv-show-related, meaning. Right? Is this a terrible idea? Because right now, when I look at our ceremony and I look at this clip, I feel like it just...fits.

Ta-da!

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 00:11:00 +0000

Here is The Hair! I just love my hair girl so much-- she offered to do a second trial when I do my highlights later in the month, so I will get to be Dr. Awesomehair one more time before the wedding...

P.S. Thanks for being sympathetic to the Bride-Beast behavior. It definitely made me feel less like a crazy person. :)