2013 Book List

This was a 'bad book' year, I would recommend all of seven books on this list—bolded below:

• Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn
• Drop Dead Healthy: One Man's Humble Quest for Bodily Perfection by A. J. Jacobs
• Sparkly Green Earrings: Catching the Light at Every Turn by Melanie Shankle
• The Fault In Our Stars by John Green
• Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail by Cheryl Strayed
• Push by Sapphire
• The Kid by Sapphire
• The Storyteller by Jodi Picoult
• Inferno by Dan Brown
• Factory Girls: From Village to City in a Changing China by Leslie T. Chang
• The Boy in the Striped Pajamas by John Boyne
• Growing Pains by Billie Piper
• Defining the Decade: Why Your Twenties Matter--And How to Make the Most of Them Now by Meg Jay
• Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls by David Sedaris
• Love the One You're With by Emily Griffin
• Siddhartha by Herman Hesse
• Lincoln Lawyer by Michael Connelly
• Tell the Wolves I'm Home by Carol Rifka Brunt
• Where'd You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple
• Skipping Christmas by John Grisham 
• Christmas Bliss by Mary Kay Andrews
• Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson
• The Friday Night Knitting Club by Kate Jacobs
• Calling Invisible Women by Jeanne Ray

Oyster Night

While visiting Boston, Massachusetts over the Christmas holiday, we had dined on oysters one night for dinner. This was my first time having oysters not ordered from a restaurant. And the experience was quite a delight. It's quite a process to reach the eating portion of the meal: the oysters must be purchased, in this case there was  seven varieties of oysters; then kept on ice in a ventilated environment; and last opened with a special knife while wearing cut-resistant gloves. The oysters were served three different ways, of which I can not decide my favorite--as shooters, oysters rockefeller, and, of course, on the half shell. To compliment the meal, M.R.B. made mushroom wellington; this was quite a treat.

There was also some research that took place prior to consumption. And maybe some research during the meal. My notes proceed this words.

1. Raspberry Pine - Prince Edward Island (Canada)
• Size: small
• Method of consumption: on the half shell
• Tasting description: briny, light
2. Pickle Point - Prince Edward Island (Canada)
• Size: medium
• Method of consumption: on the half shell
• Tasting description: easy to open, juicy, meaty; group favorite
3. Noank - Noank, Connecticut
• Size: large
• Method of consumption: oysters rockefeller
• Tasting description: easy to open, deep cup
4. Salt Aire - Prince Edward Island (Canada)
• Size: small
• Method of consumption: on the half shell; shooter
• Tasting description:
5. Cotuit - Cape Cod, Massachusetts
• Size: medium
• Method of consumption: on the half shell
• Tasting description: standard oyster--no real distinct flavor, chewy
6. Fancy Sweets - New Brunswick (Canada)
• Size: medium
• Method of consumption: shooter
• Tasting description: smooth texture, sweet, salty
7. Montauk - Montauk, New York
• Size: large
• Method of consumption: shooter
• Tasting description: hard to open, juicy; personal favorite
  

I guess the secret is out. This girl is officially back on the "meat eating" bandwagon. I can't say it's been half bad. 

Putting Others Out

I’m sitting here at Gate 63 in the lovely Kansas City International Airport, minutes before an estimated 7:18 pm departure. Boyfriend and my flight was supposed to leave at 2:33 pm, bound for Cleveland, Ohio; then later (at approximately 7:22 pm) on to Boston, Massachusetts. But those are all just minor details. We had a heads-up on the flight delays and were granted some extra time with my childhood best friend forever, M.E.K. My busy itinerary originally only allowed for an early breakfast on Sunday at Panera. Due to our flight situation, we were able to visit both her old and new home, briefly stop by her parents to exchange greetings, play were her puppies—Addy and Mogley, and watch the Kansas City Chiefs lose another depressing game to the Indianapolis Colts.

This visit to Kansas City, Kansas was an in-and-out trip–lovely, quick and very cold. To pull this trip off, to be there for M.K.B.M.’s big (wedding) day—we needed a lot of help. Boyfriend and I needed a ride to Lenexa from the airport; we landed late on Thursday at a not exactly convenient time. Then Friday, we needed a ride to Lawrence… or to borrow a car—both, again, of which would put someone out. The simple solution would have been to rent a car. But I was clearly unprepared. Friday, getting a loaner car and driving to Lawrence, we wandered around the cold, bitter cold Massachusetts Avenue. Saturday, we got ready for the wedding and anticipated the winter storm. A storm that would result in tons of cancellations for the unfazed bride and groom. On departure day—Sunday, we needed to get back to Lenexa… meet M.E.K. for breakfast… return our “rental” car… and get to the airport all before our 2:33 pm flight, with roads in OK-ish conditions. If you ask this I-don’t-know-how-to-drive-in-the-snow-girl, the roads were in poor shape.

But again, we found out early enough that our flights were delayed, and were allowed to relax a little, enjoying our final hours while simultaneously lining up a back-up plan. It is just so terrible. And I'm not dealing with adversity well. Because no part of me wants to be stuck in Cleveland. All I see are dollar signs—hotel rooms, rental cars, dining out. And though I have visited Cleveland before, navigating an unfamiliar city late at night after a long weekend. Plus, I'm so exhausted from putting others out. I was beyond worried about not only needing a ride to MCI but after waiting and waiting and waiting... the possibility of needing another pick-up later this evening, if our flights are ultimately cancelled.

So, here I am, finishing the remainder of this story on Christmas Eve. I also so badly wanted to get to Boston, I had late-night plans with my recently married college roommate, H.C.H… and the thought of missing this girl time was upsetting. And last—what I thought was the final piece of our puzzle, in terms of inconvenience—I now felt as though I was putting Boyfriend’s parents out… because we’re not scheduled to land until 12:05 am. They are much closer to Boston Logan International Airport, then my Lenexa friends are to MCI; regardless, I felt like we’re got this trip off on the wrong foot.

With false promises that our flight out of Cleveland would not be cancelled, we hopped on the 5:55 pm flight (delayed over-and-over again until we officially departed at 7:52 pm). And when we landed in Cleveland, our flight had been delayed until 11:26 pm. But by the time we got off the plane, the last leg of our journey—the flight to Boston was cancelled. I burst into tears. I couldn’t deal. It was admittedly pathetic. Boyfriend jumped into problem-solving mode. And I called my mom for sympathy. Not one of my prouder moments. There were just so many emotions—my first Christmas away from home was looming. After talking to his parents, Boyfriend had us boarding at 10:40 pm flight to Manchester, New Hampshire… minutes after landing in Cleveland. Something seemed so promising about getting that much closer to Boston, lifting my spirits a bit. His parents, with near perfect timing, were waiting for us when we landed in Manchester. I cannot express how grateful I was for them (and everything that had come together through the duration of the weekend) when we landed at midnight.

From there, we drove the 70 miles down South to Boston… and began celebrating Christmas week, luggage-less. Boyfriend called United three or four times, waiting 40 minutes each time to speak to an agent, in hopes of tracking down our bag on Monday. Then, rather randomly, was contacted around 8:30 pm with news that our missing piece was on a plane to Manchester… and would be dropped off in the middle of the night. At 5:18 am this morning, Where Is My Luggage was ringing to let us know our luggage was waiting outside the door. This was after a Monday shopping trip to Kohls, where the lines were 100-people deep, to pick us tide-us-over necessities at United's expense.

So now, my great adventure and story has ended; I wish I could say I enjoyed and relished in the ride. 

Eight Years and Counting

My friend is currently going through a tough time. Tough is a mild statement. She is living a soap opera. And not the good kind. She is facing life-altering, adult challenges. Those of a variety I have not yet witnessed or, thankfully, experienced for myself. But it's not my story to share so tell I will not. 

This past weekend I did what any friend living in reasonable proximity would do, I made the journey to New York City for a weekend together. For several  reasons, she will be leaving NYC in a few days... and gone will be my place to crash in Manhattan! In addition to bringing her some comfort, which I'm not even sure I was capable of, I came armed with an agenda. I needed have one last go at all my favorite things in the city. I figured, albeit selfishly, my to-do list would serve as a nice distraction. 

I'm not a re-visitor. I like going some place and doing it all, then picking a new destination for my next excursion. But the Big Apple is a place that keeps calling me back. I feel anyone can find their niche in the city. As far as dining goes--for me, I opt for bagels and iced coffee. And while I'm tempted to try new bagel and coffee shops, I don't. I am loyal to Ess-a-Bagel and Stumptown Coffee, NYC's second-rate bagels and fourth-rate coffee. For entertainment, Broadway shows--duh. And I shop at Uniqlo, for Japanese-inspired outerwear.

So Saturday, it was Matilda followed by Insomnia Cookies. And it was fabulous. I pretty much danced around singing Matilda music the rest of the weekend. Even if you're little you can do a lot, you mustn't let a little thing like 'little' stop you. If you sit around and let them get on top, you might as well be saying you think that it's OK. And that's not right. I hear--from the Broadway Queen herself-- it's going on tour in the next year. And yes, I will be seeing Matilda again (when it makes a stop in Washington, D.C.). I will be promoting it here for some time too. 

Sunday morning brought my first round of fresh, warm city bagels. Then a trip to the movie theater to see Frozen, which in NYC is the price of a Broadway show. But it was worth it. The movie was filled with excellent music--sung by Broadway stars themselves--and a sweet message of true love between sisters. We hit up the Union Square Holiday Market for a little shopping after the movie. For dinner, we met a mutual friend to celebrate R.D.S.'s upcoming birthday at Número 28, her favorite estaurant. And since we were in Greenwich Village, I opted for dessert at Pasticceria Rocco. There I had my very first cannoli! 

We decompressed after dinner with TLC's Extreme Cheapstakes, where I had to embarrassingly confess to employing several of these "extreme tactics" in my own home. At least I haven't resorted to cloth toilet paper and/or asking fellow restaurant patrons for their leftovers. I do wash Ziploc bags for reuse and, at times, use spare lemon combine with baking soda to wash dishes. I was reminded of the Girl Scout days, when an extreme cheapskate threw soap slivers in pantyhose for washing oneself with that final ounce. And I learned used foil can be thrown into an onion bags for homemade steel wool. Who knew?! 

My final day--Monday--started early as R.D.S. had to be up at an unreasonable hour to monitor some some silly work task. I decided it would be best to get out of her hair and wander the streets until my 11:30 am bus ride. To Ess-a-Bagel I went for round two. This was followed by a trip to Stumptown for iced goodness. I was not deterred by the 25 degrees outside; I was going to drink my coffee iced (and like it too!) even if the result was frostbite. The weather was sub-par all weekend, but the bitter, snowy temperatures definitely got me in the spirit. If NYC does one thing right, it's Christmas. That being said, my obvious next stop was Rockefeller Plaza for a photo opt of the tree. This wasn't my first time seeing the Rockefeller Plaza at Christmas, but--just like the city--something brings me back each winter. The tree is of an incomparable size. I'm not sure how it works--the transporting a live tree of this mass, the decorating, the costs, the removing, etc. I feel it demands to be admired. And I had time to kill before Uniqlo opened at 10:00 am. On my way back towards 5th and 34th to shop, I stopped in Bryant Park to viisit another holiday market. I ended up getting booted out as the vendors did not appreciate my homeless appearance: I was lugging all the goodies R.D.S. has no interest moving to Raleigh, North Carolina; a dozen bagels; the remaining sips of an iced coffee; my backpack; and purse. And again it was freezing, so I was bundled from head-to-toe in winter boots, two jackets, a scarf, hat, and mittens. The Uniqlo doors opened promptly at 10:00 am and I was first in line. Yes, line. I had 45 minutes to browse before getting in line to pay-up. I would have been better off not going... but you know, this was my last affordable (i.e., free lodging) trip for some time and it is the holidays; I went wild. 

I scurried the six avenues over to my bus... and regretting not running into  another shop, in anticipation of a late bus, as was the case this time. That's a wrap

Dinner. Dinner. KU Basketball. Dinner. KC Chiefs.

Thursday started off with a trip to the grocery, list in hand; I was hosting A.J.S. for dinner. And ended with grilled sesame tofu, lemony creamed Brussels sprouts, and steamed asparagus. Pretty tasty. Though... not nearly as tasty, not even close to the dinner the man in A.J.S.'s life, S.A.G., hosted Boyfriend and me for on Friday. We started with Brussel sprouts afelia, replicating those of chef Jose Andres. The dish was spot on, delicious. Beyond. The progressive dinner continued with collard greens, acorn squash soup, and grilled cheese. And in between each plate, we cleared our palates with the homemade brownies I whipped up. From the minute we walked in the door, Christmas music was playing. The music continued through the post-dinner tree decorating. There was wine and beer and Christmas cheer abounds. And later, a few new friends joined us for my soon-to-be-famous holiday cocktails. I think I fell into a food comma around this point. I surely made a fine impression on our new friends.

Saturday I slept until 11:00 am. I do not kid. I cannot remember the last time I did that. I made pumpkin pancakes for breakfast... or lunch. And then Boyfriend and I left for The Laughing Man Tarvern--a local University of Kansas bar--to watch the Jayhawks take on the Colorado Buffalos, Boyfriend's Alma Mater. We met our favorite Kansas friends there. I only invited Boyfriend because this was a for sure win for the Hawks. Except the Buffs dominated the entire second half. Even when KU tied it up with three seconds to go, the Buffs were able to get off a game-winning, buzzer-beating three-point shot. Boyfriend proceeded to make a fool of himself with the one other CU fan present, while the rest of the bar went dead silent--stunned. Bill Self had not lost to CU in his 11-year tenure at KU prior to this gloomy, sad afternoon.

I was nonfunctional proceed this loss--the second one of the season, which is probably how we ended up on a bus going the wrong direction in route to S.N.L.'s for a Lesotho potluck dinner. We eventually got there, thanks to the friendliest WMATA bus driver. While we were driving all sorts of wrong ways, I put my fate in Bus Driver and buried myself in Where's You Go Bernadette?--my current read. We eventually made it to S.N.L's new adobe. And I was immediately jealous of his brick-walled kitchen and all the contents being brewed within.

Together, all five of us Returned Peace Corps Volunteers (from Lesotho) went all out, but A.A.P.'s chakalaka, a vegetable relish, took the win for best dish. He was smart enough to beg for a local recipe before hopping continents. To "compliment" the chakalaka, there was pork smothered in local spices; papa, ground maize meal and water cooked to a Pay-Doh texture; samp, hominy loaded with butter; moroho, mustard greens cooked to death in oil and salt; and Eat Sum More biscuits, shortbread cookies. The dinner was MSG-loaded; we did Lesotho proud. As I have mentioned once or twice before, Lesotho is heavily influenced by South Africa... and with Nelson Mandela's death on Thursday, the timing of this feast was appropriate. After a few wild games from the Peace Corps days, Boyfriend and I headed home. Only we didn't go to bed because Michigan State was beating Ohio State... and with the earlier loss... I needed to go to bed on a positive note. Go State Go!

Then, yesterday, the most anticipated day of this season--Kansas City Chiefs at Washington Redskins game day. This day started early with layering up for the outside sub-arctic, snowy weather. I could hardly contain my excitement--December 8 was finally here and we had free(!!!) club-level seats. Boyfriend and I caught the metro to Morgan Boulevard where we met A.A.P., a devout football fan, and H.M.O., my childhood, Chiefs-adoring friend for tailgating with more fans. The designated tailgate spot happened to be forever away from the metro, but our brisk walk was probably good for our already freezing selves. At the tailgate, we celebrated and cheered and amped up... until we were frozen. Then a magic fairy appeared with a fire. At this point my fingers burned the most painful burn as I tried to thaw them over open flames. There was an abundance of tailgate no one consumed because that meant risking further frostbite and crunching on icy cold food. It was not such a pretty thing.

We arrived at our seats just before kick-off... and as mentioned... they were club-level... which meant I was perpetually tempted by the warmth of the indoors. I had to remind myself on more than one occasion that I was there to watch the game live, despite pounding ice pellets. Though we prepared for the "ice pellet" condition, we did not actually expect ice pellets/sleet/snow because forecasters are never right. Except I guess when I have outdoor plans in December. And if I haven't made my point about the freezing cold yet, let me share this tragedy: I paid $13.00 for a Bailey's infused hot chocolate. That has a whole lot of desperation written all over it. The Chiefs pummeled the Redskins, in a game that will ultimately cost Mike Shanahan his job. So I think even the Redskins were happy about the loss!

After the game, H.M.O. and I ran to the metro in the icy conditions--she fell twice, once for both of us--as A.A.P. and J.P.B. tried to keep up! I wish I could express how warm the train felt. I didn't even care that people were breathing down my back. We survived, though it was close to midnight before I felt warm again.  

And that was my weekend. Hope yours was good, too.

Seller Central

I'm somewhere between an old job and a new job. And while I wait for the official promotion, I'm all sorts of miserable. It really makes zero sense. A typical day begins at 8:00 am with breakfast. Then I decide to exercise or shower. And because I have nothing, nothing at all to do, I often opt for skipping both the exercise and shower. I can usually entertain myself with various house chores until about 11:00 am. The rest of the day is a wash. Though as a result of my being here to sweep up each dust particle before it settles, the apartment is cleaner and more organized than it will ever be.

I read about two books a week. I drink way more coffee than necessary to fuel my sedentary day. And I watch a lot of Food Network. I attempt dishes I have no business making in my kitchen--inspired by Pioneer Woman and Ina Garten. I honestly have less interest in cooking and more interest in messing up the kitchen so I have something to clean. Oh and I can tell you nearly every Ellen DeGeneres joke from the past three months; I'm tuned in everyday at 3:00 pm. I also do a lot of clock watching, in anticipation of the 5:00 pm hour, when all my friends are heading out their various office doors home to play with me. This has been a true test of patience.

So clearly in search of things to do, I started a business. A book selling business on Amazon. I'm finally parting ways with all those classics from high school and college. I have to admit I'm a bit distraught about it. I'm a hoarder of all things books... and saying goodbye is tougher than it might seem. But we need the space and I'm not going to read these classics again as I once dreamed, especially considering they weren't fun the first time.

Turns out, I'm a horrible business woman. Boss Man would be ashamed as I've spent the past 18 months developing business. I've sold two books, both at a five cent loss. That puts me a dime in the hole. Plus, I had to make a trip to CVS to purchase brown shipping paper--the cost: $5.70. I bought two rolls to prepare myself for all the selling I would be doing. And because shipping paper was buy one, get one half off. What a steal!

In addition to the change, I've lost quite a bit of time. Listing all my books for purchase took two hours. Then there was the walk to CVS and back. The wrapping the books for shipping. And the walk(s) to the post office. I'm estimating the prepping each book for shipping and journeying to the Post Office comes at an estimated 30 minute cost. I'll spare you from the further exact cent and minute-by-minute details. But do know it's all been a loss, a negative--I'm in the red.

You can now find the classics of my formative years for a premium price--at least twice their worth, though each classic is loaded with nuggets of quality notes embedded (within text)--at Amazon near you.

Oh Christmas Tree

This Thanksgiving was such a nice one. And afterwards I jumped right into Christmas, which is something I would normally abhor. My parents have a Christmas Tree Farm just miles down the road from them, so on Sunday Boyfriend and I went to check it out. I had too much fun frolicking around looking at all the varieties of trees. I seriously felt five. The memories of my childhood years came rolling back; and the sweet memories being made that day were almost too much! Boyfriend had all these restrictions about size and girth. And the farm had these complicated pricing schemes. But my search for the prize tree disregarded all matters of size and price. I refused to accept that a nine foot tree won't fit in our living room.

I was about finding a tree with a lot of character, one that would charm me throughout the season. About half way through the search, there was a tree with too pretty to pass up. Before deciding--spirits still high--we searched the rest of the farm before ultimately settling on The Tree. I opted for pursuing the gift shop, after we paid the more-than-reasonable $12.63 for our tree. And landed with some incredible vanilla bean honey to compliment my morning oatmeal.

We brought the much too tall tree home and Boyfriend began the process of sizing our tree to actually fit right-side up in the apartment. Then we strung lights. And slowly began hanging ornaments. I have to say, I liked our tree much better pre-ornament. But I'm learning to accept the ornaments.

Each night, the glow of the our Christmas tree lights up the living room. And our whimsical tree graces us with its charm. Tis the season.