Dear readers,
Happy hump day. I spent Monday this week at the doctor undergoing a bunch of blood work- nothing says fun like being checked for migraine issues. And, of course, as it turns out I am very very anemic meaning that I do not have a lot of iron in my blood.
So, to combat this ailment, I plan to eat a whole cow tonight- just.kidding.
BUT, the good news is that this totally explains my consistent exhaustion and insomnia- anemic people tend to have terrible sleep habits and are consistently tired but unable to develop the proper sleep habits necessary to function. I cannot wait to tell my husband about that since he seems to nag me daily about my rotten morning routine of waking up at the last possible second and then skulking around the house like a variable zombie.
This may also explain my migraines- that would be awesome because I am not a fan of them at all folks, AT.ALL.
So, last night I attended my first meeting of my new book club and it was amazing. I sat around with a bunch of girls who I don’t know but who, as it turned out, I had everything in common with! Our conversations went from the book to crafts to knitting to cookies/ baking and I was in heaven. It is so nice to meet nice girls and new friends in the first place but to meet ones who want to knit a scarf and talk about books and who think the idea of having a candle making crafternoon is awesome is basically my dream come true.
The book we had been reading was The 100 Year Old Man who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared and to be honest, it was not my very favorite book. I found it boring at times and I was happy to finish it, which is a bit unusual for me- but dissecting it and discussing it and hearing what other people liked, didn’t, thought of and how it affected everyone was amazing and made me rethink parts of this book that I had otherwise overlooked in a brand new light- I guess that is why book clubs exist- to expand your knowledge and share some thoughts on what otherwise become a lost soul in your memory.
Anyways, books rule and book clubs are the Mecca of super nerdyness love.
That is all.
Xo
Jane
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Friday, December 7, 2012
The joy* of baking (*read: Horror)
Ding dong, let the holidays begin.
Happy Friday and indeed happy I am that Friday is here- I got over stimulated last night and between that and having my husband come home late from a boys night out, this morning was a wreck. My only solace is knowing that tomorrow I can sleep in AND take a nap if my little heart desires (and it already does).
Readers, I am having a problem with domestication. I like it and I want to do it, but I suck so incredibly bad at it- a dichotomy that I cannot seem to negotiate properly in my head.
For example, in preparation for having our parents over tonight, I wanted to clean up the main floor. How it is possible that I sweep, dust, vacuum mop and the floor is still dirty, is just beyond me. It often feels like I am that Peanuts character, the one with the cloud of shit circling him and he is perpetually dirty...
Anyways, aside form my terrible cleaning skills I am also, as I have noted before, a horrible baker. Give me 5 minutes of baking and you will find flour everywhere and crappy batter in the works. Despite this, I feel like if I work at it long enough I can become a master baker (words can be funny- master baking in the privacy of my own home....haha).
With that in mind, I have been tackling cookies, one recipe at a time. I made those actually very good bacon cookies, those were followed by lemon line sugar cookies with a lemon sugar icing. The lemon cookies, as I realized last night were missing half a cup of butter which is probably why I needed to add all that water to the batter to get it to stop crumbling while I rolled it up to be refrigerated. Um, did you know that 2 sticks of butter is 1 cup- 2 effing sticks of butter- you could just puke. Some recipes call for 2 cups of butter- that is the whole box of butter in a batch of cookies- that is so butter cray.
Anywho, again, in prep for our families coming over, I thought this might be another occasion where cookies would be good but without sugar in the house I was a bit stuck on what to make- I pulled out the trusty cookbook that I usually use for anything I try and there, glaring out from the back of the book reserved for delicious desserts, I found a recipe for French style meringues (macaroons?) with a butter cream filling- no white sugar, only icing sugar required AND they were gluten free for my mother in law- b.i.n.g.o.!
For the first time since we got it for our wedding, I whipped out my mixmaster which weighs about 4 million pounds and make me instantly regret storing it in the highest shelf in my kitchen. But people, how amazing is the mixmaster? It frothed the shit out of my eggs and was a breeze to clean- I think I am in love.
Unlike the sugar cookies which turned out pretty good even when I completely effed up the recipe and omitted half the butter, meringues/macaroons are not so forgiving and far more specific in instruction which inevitably brings me to my complaint today. Recipes- what the hell? How on earth am I supposed to understand these things when they are so damn complicated (and this particular one only had 4 steps). It is like they are intended for a sweet genius but you cant become said genius without mastering these recipes which you cant read because you are not a master. Head.spinning.
Like for example, the recipe begins with beating the eggs until they are frothy. What the fuck does that mean? The eggs froth after 5 seconds- is that frothy enough? How does one understand the level of frothiness required by this stupid recipe without it being explicitly laid out? Define frothy.
And they do stuff like say “the eggs should be at room temperature”- what room? What if my room is 18 degrees? What if it is 27? Do they mean lukewarm? Should the eggs be left out to acclimate for an hour? 2? Is it ok to begin if the eggs are sort of room temp?
So as the recipe comes along the book calls for you to beat the at medium high speed eggs until you can see peaks (oh really?) which I only understand because my mom once showed me what an egg peak would look like- it says approx. 1 minute of mixing on medium high. 2 problems: the first is that there is no “medium high” setting- there are numbers and I have not a clue which one would correspond to medium high. The second is that after approx a minute, there were no peaks. It in fact took over 5 but then I got worried that I was overdoing it so I stopped before I reach satisfactory peaks! By this point I was covered in flour and stressed out.
Of the possible 36 cookies that the recipe would yield- I successfully made 8 (well, about 12 if you don’t count the ones eaten). And you know what else?
I tasted 2 cookies last night and both times the consensus was that they were terrible. I almost threw them all out- but they look so pretty.
This morning my husband, much to my surprise, ate one and loved it- so not sure if maybe he has terrible taste buds or if, after settling, the cookies actually turned out well and didn’t taste like sweet puke after all.
I am serving them tonight to find out.
Xo
Jane
Happy Friday and indeed happy I am that Friday is here- I got over stimulated last night and between that and having my husband come home late from a boys night out, this morning was a wreck. My only solace is knowing that tomorrow I can sleep in AND take a nap if my little heart desires (and it already does).
Readers, I am having a problem with domestication. I like it and I want to do it, but I suck so incredibly bad at it- a dichotomy that I cannot seem to negotiate properly in my head.
For example, in preparation for having our parents over tonight, I wanted to clean up the main floor. How it is possible that I sweep, dust, vacuum mop and the floor is still dirty, is just beyond me. It often feels like I am that Peanuts character, the one with the cloud of shit circling him and he is perpetually dirty...
Anyways, aside form my terrible cleaning skills I am also, as I have noted before, a horrible baker. Give me 5 minutes of baking and you will find flour everywhere and crappy batter in the works. Despite this, I feel like if I work at it long enough I can become a master baker (words can be funny- master baking in the privacy of my own home....haha).
With that in mind, I have been tackling cookies, one recipe at a time. I made those actually very good bacon cookies, those were followed by lemon line sugar cookies with a lemon sugar icing. The lemon cookies, as I realized last night were missing half a cup of butter which is probably why I needed to add all that water to the batter to get it to stop crumbling while I rolled it up to be refrigerated. Um, did you know that 2 sticks of butter is 1 cup- 2 effing sticks of butter- you could just puke. Some recipes call for 2 cups of butter- that is the whole box of butter in a batch of cookies- that is so butter cray.
Anywho, again, in prep for our families coming over, I thought this might be another occasion where cookies would be good but without sugar in the house I was a bit stuck on what to make- I pulled out the trusty cookbook that I usually use for anything I try and there, glaring out from the back of the book reserved for delicious desserts, I found a recipe for French style meringues (macaroons?) with a butter cream filling- no white sugar, only icing sugar required AND they were gluten free for my mother in law- b.i.n.g.o.!
For the first time since we got it for our wedding, I whipped out my mixmaster which weighs about 4 million pounds and make me instantly regret storing it in the highest shelf in my kitchen. But people, how amazing is the mixmaster? It frothed the shit out of my eggs and was a breeze to clean- I think I am in love.
Unlike the sugar cookies which turned out pretty good even when I completely effed up the recipe and omitted half the butter, meringues/macaroons are not so forgiving and far more specific in instruction which inevitably brings me to my complaint today. Recipes- what the hell? How on earth am I supposed to understand these things when they are so damn complicated (and this particular one only had 4 steps). It is like they are intended for a sweet genius but you cant become said genius without mastering these recipes which you cant read because you are not a master. Head.spinning.
Like for example, the recipe begins with beating the eggs until they are frothy. What the fuck does that mean? The eggs froth after 5 seconds- is that frothy enough? How does one understand the level of frothiness required by this stupid recipe without it being explicitly laid out? Define frothy.
And they do stuff like say “the eggs should be at room temperature”- what room? What if my room is 18 degrees? What if it is 27? Do they mean lukewarm? Should the eggs be left out to acclimate for an hour? 2? Is it ok to begin if the eggs are sort of room temp?
So as the recipe comes along the book calls for you to beat the at medium high speed eggs until you can see peaks (oh really?) which I only understand because my mom once showed me what an egg peak would look like- it says approx. 1 minute of mixing on medium high. 2 problems: the first is that there is no “medium high” setting- there are numbers and I have not a clue which one would correspond to medium high. The second is that after approx a minute, there were no peaks. It in fact took over 5 but then I got worried that I was overdoing it so I stopped before I reach satisfactory peaks! By this point I was covered in flour and stressed out.
Of the possible 36 cookies that the recipe would yield- I successfully made 8 (well, about 12 if you don’t count the ones eaten). And you know what else?
I tasted 2 cookies last night and both times the consensus was that they were terrible. I almost threw them all out- but they look so pretty.
This morning my husband, much to my surprise, ate one and loved it- so not sure if maybe he has terrible taste buds or if, after settling, the cookies actually turned out well and didn’t taste like sweet puke after all.
I am serving them tonight to find out.
Xo
Jane
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Bad ass bikers, they can be friends too
I finally made it to the subway unscathed and early. Less a hanging bloodied floral garment on the railing going down to the platform, the trip over was uneventful- my hubs kindly gave me a ride and we listened to Tom Petty for the 8 minute car time- I heart Tom Petty a lot. When we got engaged on a road trip through Vermont en route to Martha’s Vineyard, we listened to that CD a lot. That and REM’s greatest hits. Both CD’s will forever make me want to get engaged, drink tequila and eat oysters seaside.
I digress.
So there is this man who I have now seen a few times on the rocket- because when you take it every single day, you begin to recognize faces that, like you, are commuting same bat time, same bat channel.
and this man is particularly easy to spot because he is about 6 foot 5 with a long beard and look, to be blunt, like the head honcho of a bad ass biker gang. He always wears sunglasses on the subway- which, to be honest, I do also but on him they seem menacing whilst on me I doubt anyone is worried about me following them outside and killing them with one foul swing to the head.
So like everyday, at St. George station, half of the subway empties out and seats become readily available to those of us who have been made to stand for the prior bunch of stops. I find that I don’t mind to stand in the mornings- sometimes sitting makes me so damn tired and although I never have, I would not put it past me to just fall asleep in the subway and end up somewhere far East of work. But by the time we got to St. George, narcoleptic tendencies or not, I was ready to sit.
Anyways, the car empties but for once there are not so many readily available seats and there is me, the scary biker dude and an elderly woman all hovering around the one empty available seat. I was scared.
The elderly lady spoke first and said that she didn’t want to sit as she sits all day in her job and likes the time to stretch her legs and the hulk of a man turns to me as I am gesturing for him to sit down- we have a good 30 second non verbal gesture war until he finally laughs and smiles at me “We are so Canadian eh?”.
Listen, I am not saying that this man isn't scary in real life, he very well might be- but just as scary as I could potentially be in my salt stained uggs and skirt and I am always amazed how fast I jump to judge people based on appearance and how sometimes I am taken by such surprise at how actually wonderful they can be.
So hey, biker dude who offered me a seat this morning and who offered an old lady a seat this morning on the subway- thank you- always good to take off my dark sunglasses and see the world through rose colored lenses yet again.
I digress.
So there is this man who I have now seen a few times on the rocket- because when you take it every single day, you begin to recognize faces that, like you, are commuting same bat time, same bat channel.
and this man is particularly easy to spot because he is about 6 foot 5 with a long beard and look, to be blunt, like the head honcho of a bad ass biker gang. He always wears sunglasses on the subway- which, to be honest, I do also but on him they seem menacing whilst on me I doubt anyone is worried about me following them outside and killing them with one foul swing to the head.
So like everyday, at St. George station, half of the subway empties out and seats become readily available to those of us who have been made to stand for the prior bunch of stops. I find that I don’t mind to stand in the mornings- sometimes sitting makes me so damn tired and although I never have, I would not put it past me to just fall asleep in the subway and end up somewhere far East of work. But by the time we got to St. George, narcoleptic tendencies or not, I was ready to sit.
Anyways, the car empties but for once there are not so many readily available seats and there is me, the scary biker dude and an elderly woman all hovering around the one empty available seat. I was scared.
The elderly lady spoke first and said that she didn’t want to sit as she sits all day in her job and likes the time to stretch her legs and the hulk of a man turns to me as I am gesturing for him to sit down- we have a good 30 second non verbal gesture war until he finally laughs and smiles at me “We are so Canadian eh?”.
Listen, I am not saying that this man isn't scary in real life, he very well might be- but just as scary as I could potentially be in my salt stained uggs and skirt and I am always amazed how fast I jump to judge people based on appearance and how sometimes I am taken by such surprise at how actually wonderful they can be.
So hey, biker dude who offered me a seat this morning and who offered an old lady a seat this morning on the subway- thank you- always good to take off my dark sunglasses and see the world through rose colored lenses yet again.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
December is here.
With a mere 27 days until the new year I am buzzing with the vibes of 2013 to come. I am a follower of horoscopes which, I agree are totally wonk, but like ghosts, just in case they are real, I feel like it is worth being semi-open to.
And I am not talking about that crap they publish daily in the newspapers that tell you the same thing every day- I follow Susan Miller, Astrologist extraordinaire and honestly, she is good. Again, it is hard to say I truly believe in this kind of crap, but all I can tell you is that the month that my husband proposed to me, she predicted it (notwithstanding that she has never predicted anything else right ever).
So every first of the month, I eagerly scour the internet, bypassing ads for losing belly fat and gaining sex confidence with Viagra and get to the Aries page for the month’s predictions. True or false, I am never disappointed by the lengthy breakdown of my weeks and how they correspond to the cycles of the sun moon and good ol’ Jupiter. Are we in retrograde? Sometimes. And the planets are always colliding, obviously so life is just full of predicted adventures no matter the month or the year.
So December is likely to be no exception as coming up we have a family vacation and New Years to look forward to amid office parties, holiday parties, birthday parties and all that go with them. And (fingers crossed) minus taking my car in only to discover that EVERYTHING is wrong with it and it needed extensive repairs (aka. Bye bye to all my money), so far, it is great.
So last week marked official December/ Christmas time for me with the One of a Kind show. And dang do I love a good crafty convention. Hundreds of people in a room showcasing and admiring hand made goods is a little slice of plantain heaven so no wonder I made it there twice last week.
If you have not had the distinct pleasure of attending, let me fill you in on what you are missing with my Top 5 best and worst places to visit in the show.
Top 5 Best:
1. That mother-f-ing Cranberry pudding with warm vanilla butter sauce booth. This is, hands down, the wickedest bread pudding cake in the world and the fact that they fill a cup with it and liberally pour the butter sauce over it allowing you to guzzle pure, wonderful fat as you digest your pudding cup is just about the most delicious thing of ever. And that the pudding itself is vegan? Well that totally compensates for the butter overload right?
2. Tickleberrys booth. I swear, not ever booth I love is food, but these little chocolates are so damn good I would be remiss not to include them. The coat dried fruit in pure chocolate and then you buy little bags of them and shovel them into your face. But while the chocolate is their star, my personal favorite thing ever is their dried apple cubes which have been coated in cinnamon, look sort of like potpourri and taste like sex in apple form.
3. Olive booth. Not food again! No, this is a company that makes the best Olive Oil soaps, detergents, room sprays, bath salts and all that other crap that I freak out for. The Spa Blend, Lavender and ginger lemongrass are all totes amazeballs and they have baby and men stuff too. If they had patchouli blends, I would move in.
4. The booth where I bought my pillows. Crap. I wish I could remember the name of this one- she makes such awesome pillows. The designer, who hails from BC makes the décor items of my wet dreams and combining plaid, bay blankets and antlers creates a truly “canadiana” accent piece that I love and bought 2 of and would have liked to have bought 3 more except my husband- who, in the line of crafts is far more rational than I - forbid it.
5. The kid costume booth. Don’t care that I am 30, I will never be too old to play at this booth. Much to my mother’s horror each year I run like a maniac towards the glittery tiaras, tutus, hairbands and wands all over this booth. When I have a child and if it is a girl, she will only go out in Disney princess costumes always. I will dress up too but I will tell everyone that she made me do it (but I will be the one forcing extra glitter and more layers of ruffles).
Frankly, most booths are awesome- the new, the old, the uber crafty and the crap- there is so much talent in one room it is staggering. And of course, there is something for everyone- like, actually. If you cant find something you like, you are weird
But then there are the ones...
The Top 5 Worst (I hesitate to say worst because I admire anyone who takes up and succeeds with a craft- but I for real cannot imagine how these people stay in business)
1. Spider jewellery lady. Seriously, this lady is nuts and has been a part of the show for as long as I have been going which is at least 10 years now. She crafts jewellery and it will, for example, be an earring that then wraps around your ear, creeps over your shoulder, circles your whole head and winds up on the opposite shoulder as a spider. WHO is wearing this stuff? And there are always people in her booth trying stuff on- WHO ARE YOU!!!???? I can barely walk by her without bursting into hysterics at her totally weird creations- how can anyone take a woman with a gold spider on her shoulder seriously?
2. The wooden spoon instrument man. Remember when you were a kid and you would put 2 spoons together and beat them on your knee to make a sound (or maybe you don’t because you probably were not raised as a redneck, but in case you were). So there is a booth where that is all they sell. Wood spoons to make noise with. Really? Is there a huge market for that good ol’ spoon music??? No? That’s what I thought.
3. The Better than sex chocolate booth. Their tagline “better than sex”. Um, have these people ever had sex? And their chocolate sucks.
4. ANY booth that makes you ask them for samples or crackers to get samples with. Great, I am a fucking pig- thank you for making me tell you and no, I don’t want to try your dill dip (yes I do).
5. The “you will never get laid” pajamas booth. Pretty sure if you are wearing PJs to bed in the first place, they don’t really need to cover your neck to your toes. There is nothing crafty about these hideous PJs except how to get people to actually buy them.
Honestly, if you go for the spectacle alone, you wont be disappointed.
So now we wait, patiently for the lesser fun spring show.
But it is official folks, the holidays are upon us so time to whip out whatever lights you prefer, get your family and friends together and make some merriment (especially if you are the victim of the pajama booth this year- you really need some merriment).
XO,
Jane
And I am not talking about that crap they publish daily in the newspapers that tell you the same thing every day- I follow Susan Miller, Astrologist extraordinaire and honestly, she is good. Again, it is hard to say I truly believe in this kind of crap, but all I can tell you is that the month that my husband proposed to me, she predicted it (notwithstanding that she has never predicted anything else right ever).
So every first of the month, I eagerly scour the internet, bypassing ads for losing belly fat and gaining sex confidence with Viagra and get to the Aries page for the month’s predictions. True or false, I am never disappointed by the lengthy breakdown of my weeks and how they correspond to the cycles of the sun moon and good ol’ Jupiter. Are we in retrograde? Sometimes. And the planets are always colliding, obviously so life is just full of predicted adventures no matter the month or the year.
So December is likely to be no exception as coming up we have a family vacation and New Years to look forward to amid office parties, holiday parties, birthday parties and all that go with them. And (fingers crossed) minus taking my car in only to discover that EVERYTHING is wrong with it and it needed extensive repairs (aka. Bye bye to all my money), so far, it is great.
So last week marked official December/ Christmas time for me with the One of a Kind show. And dang do I love a good crafty convention. Hundreds of people in a room showcasing and admiring hand made goods is a little slice of plantain heaven so no wonder I made it there twice last week.
If you have not had the distinct pleasure of attending, let me fill you in on what you are missing with my Top 5 best and worst places to visit in the show.
Top 5 Best:
1. That mother-f-ing Cranberry pudding with warm vanilla butter sauce booth. This is, hands down, the wickedest bread pudding cake in the world and the fact that they fill a cup with it and liberally pour the butter sauce over it allowing you to guzzle pure, wonderful fat as you digest your pudding cup is just about the most delicious thing of ever. And that the pudding itself is vegan? Well that totally compensates for the butter overload right?
2. Tickleberrys booth. I swear, not ever booth I love is food, but these little chocolates are so damn good I would be remiss not to include them. The coat dried fruit in pure chocolate and then you buy little bags of them and shovel them into your face. But while the chocolate is their star, my personal favorite thing ever is their dried apple cubes which have been coated in cinnamon, look sort of like potpourri and taste like sex in apple form.
3. Olive booth. Not food again! No, this is a company that makes the best Olive Oil soaps, detergents, room sprays, bath salts and all that other crap that I freak out for. The Spa Blend, Lavender and ginger lemongrass are all totes amazeballs and they have baby and men stuff too. If they had patchouli blends, I would move in.
4. The booth where I bought my pillows. Crap. I wish I could remember the name of this one- she makes such awesome pillows. The designer, who hails from BC makes the décor items of my wet dreams and combining plaid, bay blankets and antlers creates a truly “canadiana” accent piece that I love and bought 2 of and would have liked to have bought 3 more except my husband- who, in the line of crafts is far more rational than I - forbid it.
5. The kid costume booth. Don’t care that I am 30, I will never be too old to play at this booth. Much to my mother’s horror each year I run like a maniac towards the glittery tiaras, tutus, hairbands and wands all over this booth. When I have a child and if it is a girl, she will only go out in Disney princess costumes always. I will dress up too but I will tell everyone that she made me do it (but I will be the one forcing extra glitter and more layers of ruffles).
Frankly, most booths are awesome- the new, the old, the uber crafty and the crap- there is so much talent in one room it is staggering. And of course, there is something for everyone- like, actually. If you cant find something you like, you are weird
But then there are the ones...
The Top 5 Worst (I hesitate to say worst because I admire anyone who takes up and succeeds with a craft- but I for real cannot imagine how these people stay in business)
1. Spider jewellery lady. Seriously, this lady is nuts and has been a part of the show for as long as I have been going which is at least 10 years now. She crafts jewellery and it will, for example, be an earring that then wraps around your ear, creeps over your shoulder, circles your whole head and winds up on the opposite shoulder as a spider. WHO is wearing this stuff? And there are always people in her booth trying stuff on- WHO ARE YOU!!!???? I can barely walk by her without bursting into hysterics at her totally weird creations- how can anyone take a woman with a gold spider on her shoulder seriously?
2. The wooden spoon instrument man. Remember when you were a kid and you would put 2 spoons together and beat them on your knee to make a sound (or maybe you don’t because you probably were not raised as a redneck, but in case you were). So there is a booth where that is all they sell. Wood spoons to make noise with. Really? Is there a huge market for that good ol’ spoon music??? No? That’s what I thought.
3. The Better than sex chocolate booth. Their tagline “better than sex”. Um, have these people ever had sex? And their chocolate sucks.
4. ANY booth that makes you ask them for samples or crackers to get samples with. Great, I am a fucking pig- thank you for making me tell you and no, I don’t want to try your dill dip (yes I do).
5. The “you will never get laid” pajamas booth. Pretty sure if you are wearing PJs to bed in the first place, they don’t really need to cover your neck to your toes. There is nothing crafty about these hideous PJs except how to get people to actually buy them.
Honestly, if you go for the spectacle alone, you wont be disappointed.
So now we wait, patiently for the lesser fun spring show.
But it is official folks, the holidays are upon us so time to whip out whatever lights you prefer, get your family and friends together and make some merriment (especially if you are the victim of the pajama booth this year- you really need some merriment).
XO,
Jane
Friday, November 30, 2012
Happy Friday
Today was a really good day- it has in fact been a really good few weeks and now, at the cusp of December- we have 32 days left until New Years.
32 days!!!! Can you even fathom it? And then we are off to a new year and a new bunch of 2013 related adventures. It also means my vacation to the sunny beaches of Del Ray are in the horizon in 22 days. I can feel the sun already- especially today when, upon sweating my brains out in my Canada Goose yesterday, I only wore a wool coat and subsequently froze my stupid ass off. (#firstworldproblems #this hashtagmeansnothing)
Today I purchased the iphone 5 I have been coveting since its Fall release. The heavens parted and like a ray of light breaking up the grey skies, the phone was mine.
The guy at the store may have laughed at me as I asked stupid questions like "how to facetime" and "where my apps go" but I don't care. I am thrilled to be ignorant about my new phone and technology in general. THRILLED.
Here is what is amazing about it. Everything.
xo
Jane
32 days!!!! Can you even fathom it? And then we are off to a new year and a new bunch of 2013 related adventures. It also means my vacation to the sunny beaches of Del Ray are in the horizon in 22 days. I can feel the sun already- especially today when, upon sweating my brains out in my Canada Goose yesterday, I only wore a wool coat and subsequently froze my stupid ass off. (#firstworldproblems #this hashtagmeansnothing)
Today I purchased the iphone 5 I have been coveting since its Fall release. The heavens parted and like a ray of light breaking up the grey skies, the phone was mine.
The guy at the store may have laughed at me as I asked stupid questions like "how to facetime" and "where my apps go" but I don't care. I am thrilled to be ignorant about my new phone and technology in general. THRILLED.
Here is what is amazing about it. Everything.
xo
Jane
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
The union
I have done it. I have successfully set up the most amazing couple in the whole world. Hurray for Plantains.
Yes readers, I fancy myself a bit of a matchmaker and whether or not I get the “thank you” mention at the wedding that I will deserve, I have found the next great couple.
Max, meet the woman I sat next to on the bus today- woman, meet Max who was in my cooking class last night. I know that you two crazy cats will hit it off.
A bit of background on one another? Sure thing. I think it is important for you both to determine whether or not you would be a good match- you don’t just have to take my word for it.
So, meet Max.
I met Max last night and have not been able to get him off my mind. It isn't every day that you get pushed aside in a cooking demo for custard and baklava by a 60 year old man who feels that he just NEEDS to stir the mother fucking batter before you.
But Max, you sweet soul, you- you just pushed me right aside didn’t you.... Didn’t you????
I find it refreshing to meet an elderly man who doesn’t give a shit to be kind/ polite or gentlemanly when in the presence of a lady- and almost invigorating to know that there are still some people in this world who get cranky, at 60 years old, when they cant stir the custard batter for long enough.
Best of all, after you pissed me off by cutting in front of me 5 times straight and I started snapping at you, my husband had to actually moderate the situation- making sure that everyone in our cooking group had a turn at helping out. I was SO impressed by the way that you needed to be told when your turn was- and when it was not your turn in order to share with your team. A grown up man who cannot share well with others in a social environment is so damn sexy.
Max also enjoys long walks on the beach, not having conversations with people around him even when they are working REALLY hard to just be friendly, budding in front of small children who are waiting in line for Santa and cooking baklava.
Max, meet woman on the bus.
I met this woman this very morning after having my own personal battle royal with my jacket zipper before leaving the house. I was tired and the zipper had won so it was to my delight and joy that I got to sit next to this woman.
She was or is a smoker, that much I know for sure- I could tell by the thick lines around her mouth that she had sucked back on a ciggy one to many times in her hayday- but I for one, think that wrinkles that you can attribute to a bad habit look very rock and roll. So we dub her the female Keith Richards. What could be sexier than that?
Of course the best part about her was that she spent the entire 10 minutes beside me chewing gum with ferocity. You can just tell by the ridiculously loud chomping noises she was making, that she was a woman who likes to sink her teeth into projects- that she takes life by the horns- that she has a zest for life overall... Often when people make horrific and raunchy mouth noises, I fell like saying to them, “yes, yes, that is just fucking awesome- PLEASE keep making saliva noises in my ear, stranger. It rules”.
Can you just imagine the duo I have conceived?
He holds her hand and trips women carrying babies on the street while she chomps like a cow by his side.
They could go to dinners where he would be rude and stupid and she could place her gum on the underside of the table to pause the gum chewing for food chewing.
Sex would be a dream.
Yes folks, I am feeling mighty proud of myself for this set up. May cupid himself smile down on this magically wonderful couple for all eternity.
The end.
Yes readers, I fancy myself a bit of a matchmaker and whether or not I get the “thank you” mention at the wedding that I will deserve, I have found the next great couple.
Max, meet the woman I sat next to on the bus today- woman, meet Max who was in my cooking class last night. I know that you two crazy cats will hit it off.
A bit of background on one another? Sure thing. I think it is important for you both to determine whether or not you would be a good match- you don’t just have to take my word for it.
So, meet Max.
I met Max last night and have not been able to get him off my mind. It isn't every day that you get pushed aside in a cooking demo for custard and baklava by a 60 year old man who feels that he just NEEDS to stir the mother fucking batter before you.
But Max, you sweet soul, you- you just pushed me right aside didn’t you.... Didn’t you????
I find it refreshing to meet an elderly man who doesn’t give a shit to be kind/ polite or gentlemanly when in the presence of a lady- and almost invigorating to know that there are still some people in this world who get cranky, at 60 years old, when they cant stir the custard batter for long enough.
Best of all, after you pissed me off by cutting in front of me 5 times straight and I started snapping at you, my husband had to actually moderate the situation- making sure that everyone in our cooking group had a turn at helping out. I was SO impressed by the way that you needed to be told when your turn was- and when it was not your turn in order to share with your team. A grown up man who cannot share well with others in a social environment is so damn sexy.
Max also enjoys long walks on the beach, not having conversations with people around him even when they are working REALLY hard to just be friendly, budding in front of small children who are waiting in line for Santa and cooking baklava.
Max, meet woman on the bus.
I met this woman this very morning after having my own personal battle royal with my jacket zipper before leaving the house. I was tired and the zipper had won so it was to my delight and joy that I got to sit next to this woman.
She was or is a smoker, that much I know for sure- I could tell by the thick lines around her mouth that she had sucked back on a ciggy one to many times in her hayday- but I for one, think that wrinkles that you can attribute to a bad habit look very rock and roll. So we dub her the female Keith Richards. What could be sexier than that?
Of course the best part about her was that she spent the entire 10 minutes beside me chewing gum with ferocity. You can just tell by the ridiculously loud chomping noises she was making, that she was a woman who likes to sink her teeth into projects- that she takes life by the horns- that she has a zest for life overall... Often when people make horrific and raunchy mouth noises, I fell like saying to them, “yes, yes, that is just fucking awesome- PLEASE keep making saliva noises in my ear, stranger. It rules”.
Can you just imagine the duo I have conceived?
He holds her hand and trips women carrying babies on the street while she chomps like a cow by his side.
They could go to dinners where he would be rude and stupid and she could place her gum on the underside of the table to pause the gum chewing for food chewing.
Sex would be a dream.
Yes folks, I am feeling mighty proud of myself for this set up. May cupid himself smile down on this magically wonderful couple for all eternity.
The end.
Monday, November 19, 2012
A year gone by
A year in Review.
I am constantly remarking on how fast time goes by these days. How fast the winter has crept up, how fast the summer went by- and how fast a year has gone by with today marking my one year wedding anniversary.
In a few short hours, 1 year ago, I would have been marching down the aisle, ready and eager to say I do to my most wonderful husband. And now, 365 days later I feel like both an eternity and only a day has gone by.
And to think that I owe this whole journey to one of the worst times in my life really makes me grateful to have been able to build from a bad situation to the best possible one I could ever imagine. When I met my husband over 5 years ago I was a very happy, very messy and very non committed plantain. Having just gotten rid of a crap boyfriend, I was only wanting to have fun, drink a lot and never involve myself again with a stupid boy.
When I met him in an alley and he proceeded to ask me out some days later- I said yes only because my motto for that year was say yes to everything- to try anything new- which was both trouble making and full of wonderful experiences.
Not one day has gone by since our first date of me wearing leg warmers (oh fashion crimes of the past) and he talking a lot of bullshit (some things never change), that I have ever looked back.
There has been something really organic and magical in falling in love and then being in love with someone naturally- when neither of us were looking for it or even wanting it. And it was just awesome to know each other for so long before getting married. We are lucky. I know that for sure.
I married my best friend. I get to spend my days and life with someone who I never want to be without. We just spent the entire weekend together and I am already excited and anticipating our date tonight- that is one of the million reasons I know that he is perfect for me.
Now, please wipe up your barf puddle and thank you for indulging me in my love fest.
What you are really thinking is... How did we celebrate?
Here you go readers....
Friday we had dinner with my family. I have not had a home cooked meal by my mom in ages and it was everything I had hoped for and more. Dear chicken soup, I love you.
Saturday morning we got to the market early enough to get a pemeal sandwich for my hubs AND enjoy the farmers market. Have you been to it lately? Met the olive oil guys? I don’t know much about sales, but yammering on about how much your son loves oil/ a book about oil/ the tasting notes in the oil/ oil/ nothing while 2 people are trying to meander around and enjoy their Saturday morning is a shitty tactic.
Have you been to the Kosliks stand inside the regular market? Kosliks mustard, I dream of you. They grill you pieces of pemeal bacon to dip/ try the various mustards. Hot daym.
We have this great “joke” where we pretend we have never seen the mustard stand before and then grab as many pieces of pemeal bacon as we can get our grubby little hands on. There is little taking for the following 10 minutes while we shove mustard doused bacon in our mouths.
The end goal to our market jaunt was to cook a romantic dinner for 2 that night. Mission accomplished, friends.
We made a wicked cheese plate with smoked speck and drank paper planes made by my amazing chef of a husband turned mixologist. Following which, I dazzled him with my croustini making abilities. Seriously people, I make a mean croustini. We had mushroom and guanciale croustini with truffle and friend basil AND a creamed cheese/avocado/dill/lemon spread with gravlox.
Suffice to say that by the time we got to out calamari course, we were stuffed with no room left for the idea of homemade pasta that we had thought of. We drank expensive wine, gossiped like it was our job, and spent some time reflecting on when we met, the journey and where we are now. It was the most perfect way to enjoy the most perfect person.
Sunday we again woke up early and decided to take advantage and go to Aunties and Uncles- a brunch spot we had been wanting to try for some time but never could fathom waiting in the long lines for. We got there before 10 and still had a 30 minute wait. So I am a huge fan of dives- like, I love that I don’t give a shit antique décor style but woah A&U, you are gross. The place felt kind of dirty to be honest and the bathroom- let’s just say, centipede heaven was exactly what I thought as I tried not to stare too hard at any one surface for fear I would actually see one.
Breakfast was definitely tasty but amazing? Not really. Worth an hour wait in line? DEF not.
We walked around Kensington for several hours before heading home to get ready for our night out with his parents. They took us to Mideastro. It was F-ing amazing, like A-MA-ZING. Eat there.
Overall, it was a great weekend with the best husband and when I look back on a year of things that have not always been amazing, when I look at the “downs” and the struggles, I always still feel lucky to have him by my side through it all.
Face, I love you.
I am constantly remarking on how fast time goes by these days. How fast the winter has crept up, how fast the summer went by- and how fast a year has gone by with today marking my one year wedding anniversary.
In a few short hours, 1 year ago, I would have been marching down the aisle, ready and eager to say I do to my most wonderful husband. And now, 365 days later I feel like both an eternity and only a day has gone by.
And to think that I owe this whole journey to one of the worst times in my life really makes me grateful to have been able to build from a bad situation to the best possible one I could ever imagine. When I met my husband over 5 years ago I was a very happy, very messy and very non committed plantain. Having just gotten rid of a crap boyfriend, I was only wanting to have fun, drink a lot and never involve myself again with a stupid boy.
When I met him in an alley and he proceeded to ask me out some days later- I said yes only because my motto for that year was say yes to everything- to try anything new- which was both trouble making and full of wonderful experiences.
Not one day has gone by since our first date of me wearing leg warmers (oh fashion crimes of the past) and he talking a lot of bullshit (some things never change), that I have ever looked back.
There has been something really organic and magical in falling in love and then being in love with someone naturally- when neither of us were looking for it or even wanting it. And it was just awesome to know each other for so long before getting married. We are lucky. I know that for sure.
I married my best friend. I get to spend my days and life with someone who I never want to be without. We just spent the entire weekend together and I am already excited and anticipating our date tonight- that is one of the million reasons I know that he is perfect for me.
Now, please wipe up your barf puddle and thank you for indulging me in my love fest.
What you are really thinking is... How did we celebrate?
Here you go readers....
Friday we had dinner with my family. I have not had a home cooked meal by my mom in ages and it was everything I had hoped for and more. Dear chicken soup, I love you.
Saturday morning we got to the market early enough to get a pemeal sandwich for my hubs AND enjoy the farmers market. Have you been to it lately? Met the olive oil guys? I don’t know much about sales, but yammering on about how much your son loves oil/ a book about oil/ the tasting notes in the oil/ oil/ nothing while 2 people are trying to meander around and enjoy their Saturday morning is a shitty tactic.
Have you been to the Kosliks stand inside the regular market? Kosliks mustard, I dream of you. They grill you pieces of pemeal bacon to dip/ try the various mustards. Hot daym.
We have this great “joke” where we pretend we have never seen the mustard stand before and then grab as many pieces of pemeal bacon as we can get our grubby little hands on. There is little taking for the following 10 minutes while we shove mustard doused bacon in our mouths.
The end goal to our market jaunt was to cook a romantic dinner for 2 that night. Mission accomplished, friends.
We made a wicked cheese plate with smoked speck and drank paper planes made by my amazing chef of a husband turned mixologist. Following which, I dazzled him with my croustini making abilities. Seriously people, I make a mean croustini. We had mushroom and guanciale croustini with truffle and friend basil AND a creamed cheese/avocado/dill/lemon spread with gravlox.
Suffice to say that by the time we got to out calamari course, we were stuffed with no room left for the idea of homemade pasta that we had thought of. We drank expensive wine, gossiped like it was our job, and spent some time reflecting on when we met, the journey and where we are now. It was the most perfect way to enjoy the most perfect person.
Sunday we again woke up early and decided to take advantage and go to Aunties and Uncles- a brunch spot we had been wanting to try for some time but never could fathom waiting in the long lines for. We got there before 10 and still had a 30 minute wait. So I am a huge fan of dives- like, I love that I don’t give a shit antique décor style but woah A&U, you are gross. The place felt kind of dirty to be honest and the bathroom- let’s just say, centipede heaven was exactly what I thought as I tried not to stare too hard at any one surface for fear I would actually see one.
Breakfast was definitely tasty but amazing? Not really. Worth an hour wait in line? DEF not.
We walked around Kensington for several hours before heading home to get ready for our night out with his parents. They took us to Mideastro. It was F-ing amazing, like A-MA-ZING. Eat there.
Overall, it was a great weekend with the best husband and when I look back on a year of things that have not always been amazing, when I look at the “downs” and the struggles, I always still feel lucky to have him by my side through it all.
Face, I love you.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Who needs a pacifier?
Dear raver couple sitting directly across from me on the bus right now. I can hear you and so can the woman pushing her baby in a stroller at 6pm on this past Monday night.
Seems that you think it is, and I quote "offensive" for women to bring strollers on the public transportation system. Seems you feel so strongly about this issue that you have proceeded to discuss this for the past 20 minutes.
You in fact just called a stroller a "feminine excuse" and a reason to carry "something bigger than a purse".
I didn't realize, boy with fucking braids in your hair and herpes on your mouth dressed like a 90s candy raver, that you had any thoughts or opinions on child rearing. I'm going to go ahead and be straight up judgmental and say that not only do you look unfit to voice your fucking annoying opinion on strollers, you also look like you are on crack. And your girlfriend with the sesame street voice looks like a huffer. I watch intervention, I know.
So,
A, no one wants to listen to your vulgar potty mouth spewing bullshit all over their would-be quiet, peaceful ride home and
B, this poor mother with her child in stroller can blatantly hear you. More offensive for woman to push her kid in a stroller and take up the precious space your disgusting Vans could otherwise be stretching out on or for you to be shit talking a clearly exhausted mother with her child who, I may add, is old enough to understand what you are saying.
Your number 1 claim is that mothers these days are too lazy to bother to carry their kids and that strollers are just for mothers to store all their extra shit in. Yes, because mothers with small children have so much shit of their own to carry. It is likely their diapers, and rash cream, and bottles and snacks, and spare clothes and blankets and soothers and teddy bears that are stuffed into the strollers.
And fyi, douche bag, if you have ever actually come near a child or a stroller, which you clearly have not- they don’t REALLY hold all that much- do trust that any woman- and I do mean ANY woman has been long accustomed to carrying all her needed possessions in a small purse at any given time.
Oh, and have you ever carried a baby? Because your claim that all mothers are lazy and should carry their child at all times is just fucking stupid. They are people, dude, not incredible hulks. You and your penis should have a long think-sy-poo before you go on and judge a woman and how she cares for her babe.
Your Muppet friend chimed in at this juncture to point out how many handicapped people have been put out of a place to sit on the TTC because of strollers. Um, how many? Do tell.
Being a crackhead does not quite qualify you as handicapped and my guess is that you are a mega moron and have no idea what you are talking about.
The dude then proceeded to vomit more idiot crap into my atmosphere by discussing his distaste for women who bring their babies to shopping malls (and I know, like me, you are shocked that anyone could have this much to say about such a stupid topic). You said, and I quote “do you think a 2 year old wants to be at the Bay for an hour”?
Oh wise and powerful yoda raver- please tell me where a 2 year old wants to be? Wandering the wilderness? Out with friends? Brunch? At the Guverment nightclub? Hard to say.
At this point I had to zone out of your conversation for fear that I was going to get up and smack your ugly face for being such a twit. When I zoned back in, you had moved to the arresting topic of social media and people on their cell phones in public. As I rang the bell to disembark what was, one of the worst bus rides of my life courtesy of you, I heard you say “would people rather I just shut up and play on my phone instead of making conversations on the bus”?
The answer, you total loser, is YES. Please. For the sake of all humanity. Please never open your mouth again unless it is to apologize to all mothers of the world.
Thanksomuch.....
Jane
Seems that you think it is, and I quote "offensive" for women to bring strollers on the public transportation system. Seems you feel so strongly about this issue that you have proceeded to discuss this for the past 20 minutes.
You in fact just called a stroller a "feminine excuse" and a reason to carry "something bigger than a purse".
I didn't realize, boy with fucking braids in your hair and herpes on your mouth dressed like a 90s candy raver, that you had any thoughts or opinions on child rearing. I'm going to go ahead and be straight up judgmental and say that not only do you look unfit to voice your fucking annoying opinion on strollers, you also look like you are on crack. And your girlfriend with the sesame street voice looks like a huffer. I watch intervention, I know.
So,
A, no one wants to listen to your vulgar potty mouth spewing bullshit all over their would-be quiet, peaceful ride home and
B, this poor mother with her child in stroller can blatantly hear you. More offensive for woman to push her kid in a stroller and take up the precious space your disgusting Vans could otherwise be stretching out on or for you to be shit talking a clearly exhausted mother with her child who, I may add, is old enough to understand what you are saying.
Your number 1 claim is that mothers these days are too lazy to bother to carry their kids and that strollers are just for mothers to store all their extra shit in. Yes, because mothers with small children have so much shit of their own to carry. It is likely their diapers, and rash cream, and bottles and snacks, and spare clothes and blankets and soothers and teddy bears that are stuffed into the strollers.
And fyi, douche bag, if you have ever actually come near a child or a stroller, which you clearly have not- they don’t REALLY hold all that much- do trust that any woman- and I do mean ANY woman has been long accustomed to carrying all her needed possessions in a small purse at any given time.
Oh, and have you ever carried a baby? Because your claim that all mothers are lazy and should carry their child at all times is just fucking stupid. They are people, dude, not incredible hulks. You and your penis should have a long think-sy-poo before you go on and judge a woman and how she cares for her babe.
Your Muppet friend chimed in at this juncture to point out how many handicapped people have been put out of a place to sit on the TTC because of strollers. Um, how many? Do tell.
Being a crackhead does not quite qualify you as handicapped and my guess is that you are a mega moron and have no idea what you are talking about.
The dude then proceeded to vomit more idiot crap into my atmosphere by discussing his distaste for women who bring their babies to shopping malls (and I know, like me, you are shocked that anyone could have this much to say about such a stupid topic). You said, and I quote “do you think a 2 year old wants to be at the Bay for an hour”?
Oh wise and powerful yoda raver- please tell me where a 2 year old wants to be? Wandering the wilderness? Out with friends? Brunch? At the Guverment nightclub? Hard to say.
At this point I had to zone out of your conversation for fear that I was going to get up and smack your ugly face for being such a twit. When I zoned back in, you had moved to the arresting topic of social media and people on their cell phones in public. As I rang the bell to disembark what was, one of the worst bus rides of my life courtesy of you, I heard you say “would people rather I just shut up and play on my phone instead of making conversations on the bus”?
The answer, you total loser, is YES. Please. For the sake of all humanity. Please never open your mouth again unless it is to apologize to all mothers of the world.
Thanksomuch.....
Jane
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Halloween Hangover
Good Thursday to you my readers.
Did you have a nice Halloween eve?
I’m going to have to be honest and say mine was not great. I had great company and a questionably great costume but the night as a whole was not great- this may be why I feel excessively stabby this morning.
So beginning with the night. Sure, it was raining- so there is something to attribute there, but overall our trick o treat visitors were pitiful in numbers. AND, worse than that, they came until 9pm and 20% at least, did not even bother to wear a costume. 2 people didn’t even say trick or treat!
I felt defeated standing on my porch in my stupid ghost costume, that I put on despite ridicule from my husband- and I felt sad watching as kids came and went- on the other side of the street.
It is not my fault that my 2 next door neighbors made it horribly unappealing to come to our side of the road- with dark houses and no décor, I get that it was less appealing than the North side where every single house was lit up with cobwebs galore... But I had twinkly pumpkin lantern lights, I had gravestones in the ground and my hangy skeleton waving in the wind.... What else do you need people????
I am of course selectively omitting the joy I had when opening the door to a tiny care bear, a mini monkey and a lovely unicorn, some small witches and a geisha. Those kids made my whole night and subsequently each got about 40000 candies from my bowl which still houses about 90 chocolate bars (dear fat me).
The other nice thing, besides the cute kiddies was having my parents over and starting a brand new Halloweeny tradition chez us.
Needless to say, I think I fell asleep crying about the bad Halloween (and definitely NOT because of PMS) and when I awoke this morning, the grey skies and memories of my night in a bowl by my door didn’t do anything to lift my spirits. Nor did the crazy woman who lives in my neighborhood and talks to herself all the time, out loud, when she sat down next to me on the bus for my ride to the subway- which stopped a total of 3 times underground for sick people.
I hate f-ing stopping underground. Like there are not a million mole people living in the subways only but waiting to find a car trapped in the cement tunnel to rape and pilliage. I was too mad to even play my “who would I eat first if it came down to it while I was stuck on the subway” game.
Dear Thursday. You suck. Bring on Friday.
Did you have a nice Halloween eve?
I’m going to have to be honest and say mine was not great. I had great company and a questionably great costume but the night as a whole was not great- this may be why I feel excessively stabby this morning.
So beginning with the night. Sure, it was raining- so there is something to attribute there, but overall our trick o treat visitors were pitiful in numbers. AND, worse than that, they came until 9pm and 20% at least, did not even bother to wear a costume. 2 people didn’t even say trick or treat!
I felt defeated standing on my porch in my stupid ghost costume, that I put on despite ridicule from my husband- and I felt sad watching as kids came and went- on the other side of the street.
It is not my fault that my 2 next door neighbors made it horribly unappealing to come to our side of the road- with dark houses and no décor, I get that it was less appealing than the North side where every single house was lit up with cobwebs galore... But I had twinkly pumpkin lantern lights, I had gravestones in the ground and my hangy skeleton waving in the wind.... What else do you need people????
I am of course selectively omitting the joy I had when opening the door to a tiny care bear, a mini monkey and a lovely unicorn, some small witches and a geisha. Those kids made my whole night and subsequently each got about 40000 candies from my bowl which still houses about 90 chocolate bars (dear fat me).
The other nice thing, besides the cute kiddies was having my parents over and starting a brand new Halloweeny tradition chez us.
Needless to say, I think I fell asleep crying about the bad Halloween (and definitely NOT because of PMS) and when I awoke this morning, the grey skies and memories of my night in a bowl by my door didn’t do anything to lift my spirits. Nor did the crazy woman who lives in my neighborhood and talks to herself all the time, out loud, when she sat down next to me on the bus for my ride to the subway- which stopped a total of 3 times underground for sick people.
I hate f-ing stopping underground. Like there are not a million mole people living in the subways only but waiting to find a car trapped in the cement tunnel to rape and pilliage. I was too mad to even play my “who would I eat first if it came down to it while I was stuck on the subway” game.
Dear Thursday. You suck. Bring on Friday.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Peter Pumpkinhead
Happy Halloween!!!!
After 365 days of countdown since Halloween 2011, we have arrived at my most favorite day of the year. Hello.
So, I have to admit that we were a bit behind this year on the festivities. My house remains undecorated since there has been non stop wind/rain attacking my porch since Friday and it was only at 7pm last night that I decided to get a pumpkin.
Did you know, dear reader, that finding a pumpkin the night before Halloween is like trying to get an iphone 5 on opening day. Impossible. 2 stores were just plain sold out but good ol No Frills still had a meager 6 pumpkins remaining in their bins. 3 had full holes on them. 2 were about to rot right open, and 1 lone pumpkin remained unrotted and unholed. This pumpkin was unfortunately deformed in a bad way- so obviously, this was the pumpkin for me.
I know that pumpkins don’t actually have feelings but I somehow feel like this pumpkin was overjoyed to fulfill his duty as a Halloween mascot. That left unpicked, he would have dies a slow terrible death at the bottom of a paper bin in the back corner of a sketchy No Frills amid the rotting flesh of his peers. I feel like our pumpkin smiled as we laid him down in the car- with his wonky head all misshapen and that he knew he was coming to a nice home to celebrate the holidays.
And so now, the deformed part of his head is overshadowed by the hella spooky face on the semi rounded part of the head that could actually be carved into and his humongous seeds (proof that you cant judge a book by its cover) are roasting away in my oven covered with sea salt and spices and my house is now ready for trick or treaters who better withstand this horrible weather and actually come out. I am not rushing home to put up spider webs and ghosts for nothing, ok kids?????
I think that the only downside to today’s festivities is my lame-o costume. Since my hubby told me I am too old to dress up tonight by myself (goodbye to my homemade ghost costume), I have been left with Friday night’s birthday bash for one of my besties as my “dress up opportunity”. While I LOVE her superhero theme, one would argue that “homemade ghost” and or Rawdy Rawdy Piper don’t quite qualify as superheroes and with all other female superheroes being super skanks, I have been left with my husband’s creation of costume magic, Professor Chaos and General Disarray- google them, hey are special characters but then google people who dress up as them for Halloween- I will be enshrined with fat dork weirdos foreves.
I cant wait though, to spend my first Halloween in my new home with my mom and dad, hubby and Pumpky (the name I decided fit my almost discarded pumpkin head), my spider webs, my hangy skeleton, my ghost, my BEWARE sign in glittery orange and a huge bag of treats for all the kids who, seriously, need to come out tonight or I will end up eating a full barrel of mini chocolates.
Have a spooky night everyone.
mwaahahahahahahahahahahahaha
After 365 days of countdown since Halloween 2011, we have arrived at my most favorite day of the year. Hello.
So, I have to admit that we were a bit behind this year on the festivities. My house remains undecorated since there has been non stop wind/rain attacking my porch since Friday and it was only at 7pm last night that I decided to get a pumpkin.
Did you know, dear reader, that finding a pumpkin the night before Halloween is like trying to get an iphone 5 on opening day. Impossible. 2 stores were just plain sold out but good ol No Frills still had a meager 6 pumpkins remaining in their bins. 3 had full holes on them. 2 were about to rot right open, and 1 lone pumpkin remained unrotted and unholed. This pumpkin was unfortunately deformed in a bad way- so obviously, this was the pumpkin for me.
I know that pumpkins don’t actually have feelings but I somehow feel like this pumpkin was overjoyed to fulfill his duty as a Halloween mascot. That left unpicked, he would have dies a slow terrible death at the bottom of a paper bin in the back corner of a sketchy No Frills amid the rotting flesh of his peers. I feel like our pumpkin smiled as we laid him down in the car- with his wonky head all misshapen and that he knew he was coming to a nice home to celebrate the holidays.
And so now, the deformed part of his head is overshadowed by the hella spooky face on the semi rounded part of the head that could actually be carved into and his humongous seeds (proof that you cant judge a book by its cover) are roasting away in my oven covered with sea salt and spices and my house is now ready for trick or treaters who better withstand this horrible weather and actually come out. I am not rushing home to put up spider webs and ghosts for nothing, ok kids?????
I think that the only downside to today’s festivities is my lame-o costume. Since my hubby told me I am too old to dress up tonight by myself (goodbye to my homemade ghost costume), I have been left with Friday night’s birthday bash for one of my besties as my “dress up opportunity”. While I LOVE her superhero theme, one would argue that “homemade ghost” and or Rawdy Rawdy Piper don’t quite qualify as superheroes and with all other female superheroes being super skanks, I have been left with my husband’s creation of costume magic, Professor Chaos and General Disarray- google them, hey are special characters but then google people who dress up as them for Halloween- I will be enshrined with fat dork weirdos foreves.
I cant wait though, to spend my first Halloween in my new home with my mom and dad, hubby and Pumpky (the name I decided fit my almost discarded pumpkin head), my spider webs, my hangy skeleton, my ghost, my BEWARE sign in glittery orange and a huge bag of treats for all the kids who, seriously, need to come out tonight or I will end up eating a full barrel of mini chocolates.
Have a spooky night everyone.
mwaahahahahahahahahahahahaha
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
A weekend to remember
Dear Hurricane Sandy,
Staaaaahhhhhpppppp.
stahp
No, but seriously....
So, after taking off Friday and Monday from work to fully celebrate in the festivities surrounding my sister in laws wedding this past Sunday, Tuesday is feeling like a Monday and Wednesday. Confusing.
I can happily report that amid the terrible cold and rain, my SIL and her man became husband and wife and the wedding went off without a hitch (minus them getting hitched....). It was in fact, one of the most beautiful weddings I have ever been to with the most amazing floral arrangements I have ever seen. I, as you know, am not a huge flower person and usually find centerpieces to be stupid and WAY to ornate. These were splendid and perfect.
I also have to give the bride major kudos on putting such sweet and intimate touches on every detail. The cake topper, the cards, the music choices- every last thing was perfection...and the food, TO DIE FOR. I said a one-night-only adieu to my diet and stuffed myself silly. Truffle mac and cheese apps, don’t mind if I do....
Usually, Sunday weddings end pretty early since everyone has to go to work on the Monday but this wedding went way into the night and by the time we packed up to go home it was well into the wee hours of the AM- just another testament to how incredible this party was.
And the best part, of course, was how happy the bride and groom were- they were beaming all night long and the energy they had radiated throughout the room. We had the BEST time and while I love all weddings, this one was so special and not just because I was an intimate part of it.
And thank god for Monday off because I was a hot mess yesterday. I willingly sat through a movie (Moonrise Kingdome, very cute, didn’t fidget until the final 30 minutes), ate Libretto and did not remove sweat pants from my body until bedtime. My calves sore from dancing, my eyes sore from having to pull off the mega lashes I wore, my hair sore from being done, my arms sore from who knows what, and my mouth sore from smiling so much.
So, best weekend ever leads to best week ever as we enter into Halloween/ my besties’ birthday/ celebrating our friends engagement! SO much joy!
Anywho, tonight my hubs and I will carve our pumpkin and decorate our house all spooky like for tomorrow. I am praying that the weather holds off tomorrow night- I dream of scaring kids all over my street in a ghost costume.
Xo,
Jane.
Staaaaahhhhhpppppp.
stahp
No, but seriously....
So, after taking off Friday and Monday from work to fully celebrate in the festivities surrounding my sister in laws wedding this past Sunday, Tuesday is feeling like a Monday and Wednesday. Confusing.
I can happily report that amid the terrible cold and rain, my SIL and her man became husband and wife and the wedding went off without a hitch (minus them getting hitched....). It was in fact, one of the most beautiful weddings I have ever been to with the most amazing floral arrangements I have ever seen. I, as you know, am not a huge flower person and usually find centerpieces to be stupid and WAY to ornate. These were splendid and perfect.
I also have to give the bride major kudos on putting such sweet and intimate touches on every detail. The cake topper, the cards, the music choices- every last thing was perfection...and the food, TO DIE FOR. I said a one-night-only adieu to my diet and stuffed myself silly. Truffle mac and cheese apps, don’t mind if I do....
Usually, Sunday weddings end pretty early since everyone has to go to work on the Monday but this wedding went way into the night and by the time we packed up to go home it was well into the wee hours of the AM- just another testament to how incredible this party was.
And the best part, of course, was how happy the bride and groom were- they were beaming all night long and the energy they had radiated throughout the room. We had the BEST time and while I love all weddings, this one was so special and not just because I was an intimate part of it.
And thank god for Monday off because I was a hot mess yesterday. I willingly sat through a movie (Moonrise Kingdome, very cute, didn’t fidget until the final 30 minutes), ate Libretto and did not remove sweat pants from my body until bedtime. My calves sore from dancing, my eyes sore from having to pull off the mega lashes I wore, my hair sore from being done, my arms sore from who knows what, and my mouth sore from smiling so much.
So, best weekend ever leads to best week ever as we enter into Halloween/ my besties’ birthday/ celebrating our friends engagement! SO much joy!
Anywho, tonight my hubs and I will carve our pumpkin and decorate our house all spooky like for tomorrow. I am praying that the weather holds off tomorrow night- I dream of scaring kids all over my street in a ghost costume.
Xo,
Jane.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Makeover
Makeover, makeover, makeover, makeover....makeover.
(In my head, I was singing that line)
Hi readers.
Happy Thursday.
You may notice you are now viewing me on a different, and dare I say, more mature screen view? Well, not to worry, you are not hallucinating or having a senior moment. Jane Plantain has gone and done a full makeover to update the look of the blog.
The explanation is simple. We are moving forward here and to reflect the forward thinking look, I choose a template with the most futuristic sounding name. Dynamic. It just sounds good, right?
Further to that, my content is about to have a bit of a makeover too. Now, don't fret- there will still be musings on the floater I just saw in the women's bathroom (really LADIES??????), and rants on the strange dynamics of being on elevators with strangers but there is more to the plantain than I have shared with you thus far. Truth be told, I love to write. I love to write love stories, I love to write Tim- Burton esque scary stories and I love to write about clothes beyond comments on camel toe and the cray cray guy in Holts.
I beg of you to indulge me from here on out and let me use this venue as a medium to share some of my other stuff with you.
For many many many years I have dreamed of being a successful writer but have, till now, been too nervous to share my work. I even have full story ideas that I spend a lot of time procrastinating or working on with trepidation. And, well, the truth is, those of you who read me, read me anyways- I may as well try the goods out on you.
So bear with me as I transition a bit and post some new material.
I hope you like the new Jane....
xo
J
(In my head, I was singing that line)
Hi readers.
Happy Thursday.
You may notice you are now viewing me on a different, and dare I say, more mature screen view? Well, not to worry, you are not hallucinating or having a senior moment. Jane Plantain has gone and done a full makeover to update the look of the blog.
The explanation is simple. We are moving forward here and to reflect the forward thinking look, I choose a template with the most futuristic sounding name. Dynamic. It just sounds good, right?
Further to that, my content is about to have a bit of a makeover too. Now, don't fret- there will still be musings on the floater I just saw in the women's bathroom (really LADIES??????), and rants on the strange dynamics of being on elevators with strangers but there is more to the plantain than I have shared with you thus far. Truth be told, I love to write. I love to write love stories, I love to write Tim- Burton esque scary stories and I love to write about clothes beyond comments on camel toe and the cray cray guy in Holts.
I beg of you to indulge me from here on out and let me use this venue as a medium to share some of my other stuff with you.
For many many many years I have dreamed of being a successful writer but have, till now, been too nervous to share my work. I even have full story ideas that I spend a lot of time procrastinating or working on with trepidation. And, well, the truth is, those of you who read me, read me anyways- I may as well try the goods out on you.
So bear with me as I transition a bit and post some new material.
I hope you like the new Jane....
xo
J
Friday, October 19, 2012
Happiness on a Friday
Happy Friday friends and well-wishers,
This was a long ass week. having a wedding on a Sunday night followed by an early Monday morning is just killer. It threw off my whole week.
Anywho, so speaking of weddings, I am but a mere 10 days away from celebrating my sister-in-law’s wedding! Could I be ore excited? The answer is no. no I could not.
I love weddings, any and all weddings BUT there is nothing better than the wedding of someone who you actually are excited to celebrate- a wedding where you feel a part of the celebrations and you are not just a witness to them. A wedding where you are a part of the love in the room, not just another body on the dance floor. So with that, I am obviously especially excited for this one!
I’m sure I will have more to say about this as it nears but for now, we have Friday to dwell upon- and boy do I love Fridays...
Especially Fridays the fall right after epic Thursdays- we spent last night with friends and amid a lot of gossip and too many gin and tonics I am pretty sure that I didn’t stop laughing for 4 straight hours. I am all for a weekend that begins like that!
So this week, after being encouraged by mon mere, I finished the book Age of Miracles. Have you read it? You should. Not only is it awesome, but it inspires some good and interesting thoughts about what is important to you.
The book opens with a 12 year old narrator who walks us through what happens to her and her life as the world slows its rotation around the sun. I am not a doomsdayer, but I am pretty sure that this is how we are going to die.
While there are the obvious repercussions that apply to all mankind, like food shortage, natural disaster/ weather, and electricity and networks- the loss of friends and family and the overall terror that the end of the world would inspire, the book calls to light what are the particular losses of the narrator and her family. I will not ruin this for you because it is just too damn good but suffice to say that I finished the book and couldn’t help but think about my personal essentials. The whats and whos of what would matter to me if I was faced with impending death/ doom.
And of course, because life is sometimes like that, the next book I picked up, called The Happiness Project, follows on the tails of this theme- what does one need in life to be happy.
Anyways, just something to think about as we head into the weekend- a time where, for all intensive purposes, we are meant to enjoy and indulge in that which makes us happy!
I myself am spending this weekend with my husband, family and good friends- those would top my list of “essentials” to survive- oh, and cheese. DEF. cheese.
xo
Jane
This was a long ass week. having a wedding on a Sunday night followed by an early Monday morning is just killer. It threw off my whole week.
Anywho, so speaking of weddings, I am but a mere 10 days away from celebrating my sister-in-law’s wedding! Could I be ore excited? The answer is no. no I could not.
I love weddings, any and all weddings BUT there is nothing better than the wedding of someone who you actually are excited to celebrate- a wedding where you feel a part of the celebrations and you are not just a witness to them. A wedding where you are a part of the love in the room, not just another body on the dance floor. So with that, I am obviously especially excited for this one!
I’m sure I will have more to say about this as it nears but for now, we have Friday to dwell upon- and boy do I love Fridays...
Especially Fridays the fall right after epic Thursdays- we spent last night with friends and amid a lot of gossip and too many gin and tonics I am pretty sure that I didn’t stop laughing for 4 straight hours. I am all for a weekend that begins like that!
So this week, after being encouraged by mon mere, I finished the book Age of Miracles. Have you read it? You should. Not only is it awesome, but it inspires some good and interesting thoughts about what is important to you.
The book opens with a 12 year old narrator who walks us through what happens to her and her life as the world slows its rotation around the sun. I am not a doomsdayer, but I am pretty sure that this is how we are going to die.
While there are the obvious repercussions that apply to all mankind, like food shortage, natural disaster/ weather, and electricity and networks- the loss of friends and family and the overall terror that the end of the world would inspire, the book calls to light what are the particular losses of the narrator and her family. I will not ruin this for you because it is just too damn good but suffice to say that I finished the book and couldn’t help but think about my personal essentials. The whats and whos of what would matter to me if I was faced with impending death/ doom.
And of course, because life is sometimes like that, the next book I picked up, called The Happiness Project, follows on the tails of this theme- what does one need in life to be happy.
Anyways, just something to think about as we head into the weekend- a time where, for all intensive purposes, we are meant to enjoy and indulge in that which makes us happy!
I myself am spending this weekend with my husband, family and good friends- those would top my list of “essentials” to survive- oh, and cheese. DEF. cheese.
xo
Jane
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)