Together Forever

Alright, this weekend I am taking a break from being bummed about my lack of direction and prospects...instead, I'm going to be bummed about one of my BFFs moving clear across the planet* (more specifically, to India). I'm a ray of sunshine lately, I know.

This isn't the first time I've had a friend move away. There was the mass exodus to college, of course, where roughly 90% of my friends flew away to other parts of the country. Then there were the few stragglers who either didn't leave right away or moved back home briefly and then left again. But that was in college and we were all busy starting new lives and it all seemed okay. 

It's harder as an adult, I guess. It's harder to make friends, so the ones I have seem even more precious. Ok, so I know it's not like he's dying or anything -- I'm not trying to be all melodramatic -- but at least with my other friends, there's a chance I might be able to hop a cheap flight or even take a road trip and see them. I don't think I'll ever bank enough miles to score a free flight to Bangalore. 

Plus (and here comes the mushy part), it's him. I'll miss him. He gets me. He shares my cynicism, but is also quick to offer words of encouragement or advice when needed - and not vague, Hallmark card advice, but relevant suggestions. He likes shoes, although he thinks all of mine are ugly. He doesn't mind bringing dinner to my house if my husband is traveling and I can't get a sitter. (that sounded so scandalous that I had to laugh) He's just a really good friend/gay husband. Plus, he's my cosmic twin! Same birthday, same initials. What will I do without him on our birthday this year?

So yes, I'm sad. But I'm also really, really happy for him. I wish that he could find fulfillment somewhere on this continent, but I respect the risk that he's taking and admire his ability to set a goal and reach it. And I also think he's a little crazy, which I suppose is one of the qualities I like about him...

Times like these call for an 80's rock ballad. Yes, this will do:

*You can follow his expat adventures on his blog: Kevin from 55407.

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Have you watched and rated our PB&J Video today?

Building blocks

Is it possible that I'm having a midlife crisis? A one-third-life crisis maybe? (Because I certainly intend to live beyond age 62)

It's as if my career is a tower of blocks…like every job, every promotion, every “skill” I’ve acquired has been stacked up precariously over the years and now it’s all tumbling down on me. So now I have to decide if I want to rebuild the tower with the same blocks or find some new ones. It’s daunting.

I used to want to write for Rolling Stone. Now I can barely read most of that crap. I used to feel like I could hit up editors anywhere with a story idea and have a shot at actually getting an assignment. I used to think that getting a college degree was an assurance of something…job security? Never having to stand behind a counter asking, “Would you like a drink with that?” again.

I suppose the question of fulfillment went unasked. I suppose I just assumed that if I got a degree and then did something with that degree, then viola!, I would be a productive citizen and therefore be fulfilled. Honestly, I have no idea what I thought. I don’t think I thought at all.

So here I am, pondering veering off into a second career (of the baking variety), while still nursing the wounds of the first one. The truth is that I don’t feel very good at much of anything at the moment. I’m not convinced that I possess any actual skills, just a lot of fantasies and questions. The fact that I’ve spent enough time doing enough things to fill a resume seems of little consequence.

All if this is to say that I went in to get an application at a bakery/café today - a part-time job remotely related to my love of pastry - and ended up having an interview, which threw me into a bit of a panic attack (not the medical kind, more my own personal kind of panic attack). How do I navigate this place where getting a college degree and working in a profession for a decade actually makes you less qualified for the job? I had to go back and use examples from my teenage years to show that I had a clue about working in food service. And really, I don’t blame the manager for being suspicious…

What am I doing here? I’m not sure. I guess I’m trying something new…something else…I guess I’m just doing something because something is better than nothing…though it’s no less confusing.

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Have you watched and rated our PB&J Video today? 

The Heat is On

I'm a cynical person. I'm a realist. I don't tend to expect the best from people, but I was not prepared for how cut throat a f*ing peanut butter and jelly competition could be. 

Negative comments...sabotaging other contestants' ratings...I mean, yes, it's an awesome prize, but it's not like we're competing for a million dollars, here. What really bothers me is that the majority of the entries feature little kids. Now, who watches a video with little kids laughing or singing or just generally being happy and then takes the time to write a comment along the lines of "You suck"? Who are these people? 

Anyway, despite the haters, our video is doing well. Sadly, in what does appear to be an act of sabotage, we've dropped from a solid 4 jelly jar rating down to 3. But, we've still got time to bring it back up, so please continue to watch and rate. 

Remember, you have to click the "Rate This" link in order to register your vote. And you can vote as many times as you care to open and close your browser. 

Thanks for your support! Food Network, here we come!

Help Us Win!

Remember weeks ago when I told you my family was entering a contest and I'd be requesting your participation? Well...

I am proud to announce that we have submitted our video to Welch's Ultimate PB&J Challenge! As you can see, our video is an awesome homage to Iron Chef America. 

Now we need you to go to the contest site and Watch it. Rate it. Repeat. 

And please also leave a comment mentioning how hungry the video makes you for Welch's jelly...

Finalists are chosen based on which videos receive the most views and highest ratings from the general public, then it's up to Welch's and the Food Network. That means that we need everyone we know and everyone all of you know to get us into the finals! 

In case you missed that other link, click here to vote now.

Why are we doing this? The winner gets a trip for four to NYC. But this isn't just any trip, it includes a tour of the Food Network studios and dinner at one of the Food Network chef's restaurants. Now, I know you're all familiar with my love for the Food Network, but I'm more excited about the possibility of giving this experience to my kids, who choose the Food Network over cartoons most days. They have watched Rachael Ray since they were three...they get excited when they see Bobby Flay...Aidan has recently taken a liking to the Barefoot Contessa...this would be a big deal to them.  

This could be the pivotal thing that motivates little Aidan to become the next Anthony Bourdain! Or the inspiration Owen needs to take molecular gastronomy to the next level! Their culinary futures hang in the balance here! Please vote! Right now! 

P.S. My husband worked really, really hard to edit this video together. Were it not for his art school education, we probably would have been stuck with a clip of my children smearing jelly on a piece of bread. Thank you, sweetie.

The Results are In

Hooray! My weeklong calorie counting experiment is over! I know you're dying to know how it went, so please let me tell you...

First, a bit about methodology: I used the Calorie Counter site to track my daily intake. I don't know how it compares to other such sites, but it did what I needed it to do. Why a hard-boiled egg has 78 calories while a poached egg has only 71 remains a mystery to me, but whatever.

The results:

Day one was the easiest. Maybe because my body figured it was only temporary. 

Day two was the hardest and I cursed this experiment all day, but I still managed to stay at my limit. 

Day three was a bad day and so I ate a brownie. Had I not eaten that brownie, I would have been under my limit. But the brownie was delicious. 

Day four was surprisingly easy again and I made it under my limit without having to obsess about it all day.

Day five I met friends for a coffee playdate and ate a stupid cinnamon roll, which was not worth the amount of calories I imagine that it contained. Again, had I not eaten the unnecessary treat, I would have made my limit. 

Day six was Valentine's Day and, as noted in my previous post, calorie counting was put on hold. If I had to guess, I'd say that I probably went over my limit by close to 1000 calories. But it was a lovely evening. 

Day seven was alright. I was helpless against the custard bismarck a friend brought to my house. I mean, it would have been rude not to eat it, right? Other than that, I did okay. I didn't quite make my limit. 

So, no, I didn't meet my goal to stick within a certain calorie limit for a full week. However, what I learned was that if I just cut out the stupid shit that I already know I shouldn't be eating (I'm talking to you, baked goods), my calorie intake is actually at a pretty healthy level. 

And, really, the only way I could ever truly stick to a hardcore calorie limit would be to eat only packaged foods, where the calorie count is clearly displayed for me. That doesn't really jive with my love of cooking and baking, so I'm just going to be smarter about what I eat and choose recipes that have more good stuff and less butter.

In summary, eating donuts makes you fat. Vegetables are good for you. Wow, that was totally worth a week of my life. 

Love, Food and Art

Whether you were celebrating or boycotting, I hope you all had a nice Valentine's Day. Mine was even better than expected thanks in part to a last-minute offer by my wonderful stepsister to take the boys overnight. (In case you've ever thought of making such an offer to a parent that you care about, let me assure you that there is no greater gift.)

We celebrated with the boys during the day by eating some heart-shaped pizza. Then once they left for their overnight adventure, we had to figure out what to do with ourselves. We assumed dinner anywhere nice was sort of out since we didn't have reservations, but we decided to take our chances at the bar of an Italian place and since we got there before 6 p.m. (yes, we know how to party), we got a table! 

Now, let me preface all this by saying that I suspended my calorie counting for the night because calorie counting is neither fun nor romantic. So along with some lovely Shiraz, we shared some overly creative bruschetta and then some lobster fettuccini, which was yummy, yummy, yummy. I enjoyed every single calorie. 

We had decided to see "Slumdog Millionaire" after dinner, so we were going to skip dessert and then maybe get some after the movie, but when I saw Bananas Foster on the menu, I knew what I must do.

To assuage my guilt for eating this, I've decided that the pleasure it brought me far outweighs its unhealthy qualities. (I wonder why I can't lose weight?) Seriously, I need a personal trainer purely so that I can eat dessert with every meal. Anyway, dinner was really nice. 

Then there was "Slumdog Millionaire." Amazing. I realize we were late in seeing it, but if any of you haven't seen it yet, go now. It's a beautiful film and a brilliant story. The kind of movie where you leave the theater feeling better for having seen it. And the soundtrack is awesome, too.

All in all, it was a perfect Valentine's Day. No roses or chocolates required. 

Not That I'm Taking the Credit...

I'm thinking that Fabio has a time machine that allowed him to come to the future yesterday, read my blog, accept the challenge of surprising me, and go back in time to last night's episode so that he could not just win the challenge, but kill it with a broken hand. 

How else can you explain his vault from good to "he could open a restaurant tomorrow and this would be his signature dish" great? Luck? Timing? The alignment of stars?

No, time travel (and the reading of my blog) is totally the most plausible explanation. Case closed.