Mangled Apple Pie

OH MY GOD. She's smashing up a store bought apple pie and layering it with carved out baked phillo dough shells and cool whip / cream cheese / powdered sugar cream filling.

UGH.

Have I ever mentioned that I dislike the cooking show, Semi Homemade by Sandra Lee?

I am really into cooking. Cooking relaxes me and eating fulfills me. It's a great little cycle that keeps me happy and busy, something I am, I dare say, quite good at. It is an artistic endeavor at its best, with roots to be respected and admired. The little content noises that Greg makes as he enjoys my hobby make it even better. I hardly watch any TV, but when I do watch it, it is always Food TV (I don't think I can emphasize how much always that always is). I learned to cook from my favorites on Food TV: Michael, Giada, Rachael, and Ina. If you watch Food TV, you know instantly who I am talking. I appreciate Michael and Giada for their Simple Italian. I like that Rachael makes 30 minutes meals (good, healthy 30 minute meals) accessible to housewives around the country, and I really appreciate the incredible care and attention that goes into Ina's french cuisine.

But here's the catch. I cannot stand Sandra Lee. She does none of the following:

1. shorten the cooking time
2. be sensitive to essential components of ethnic cuisine
   
3. reduce the number or cost of ingredients
4. decrease calorie content, fat content, carb content, or meat content
5. make things easier or less complicated
6. make things wholesome or healthy
7. make things that taste good

The worst part of it is that they (the producers?) dress her up in cleavage revealing tops and theatrical props (hats, bracelets, Other Weird Stuff, etc) that always coordinate with the color of that show's theme (or, horror, maybe she does it herself?!), be it orange for "Mexicano!" or pink for "Girls Night In!". It reminds me of "Better Homes and Gardens" housewife material from the 50s. She'll spend 30 minutes describing how to make something that actually takes several hours to prepare - and what it is a almost-pure-sugar cake to give to a group of 5 year olds that pairs well with the Pigs in a Blanket, doctored Mac N Cheese, homemade-ish Mashed Potatoes, and All Other Things Of A Homogeneous Color.

But I'll be damned if the cake isn't covered red sprinkles and lit sparklers, sitting on a magical "Tablescape" that matches the color of the birthday candles - which oh so coincidentally coordinates with the "Mixed Fruit Punch" cocktail drink and her very own red v-neck cashmere sweater (matching scrunchie)

I once saw a whole show of hers on semi-homemade deserts, and literally all 5 recipes involved at least one package of instant pudding. Together, we discovered the wonders of banana instant pudding, raspberry instant pudding, and strawberry instant pudding, all used in interesting and creative ways to produce something that tastes exactly the same: terrible artificial confection

Rhetorical Questions and Crying

I knew this was coming. I knew it had to happen.

The Breakdown.

The Loosing-It.

The Planning-a-wedding-really-sucks-and-why-do-I-have-to-do-this Bratty Complaining Fit.

Here's the thing. I'm not really into the whole wedding thing. I never pictured it. I never thought about it. All I wanted was an amazing man - and that I actually have. The rest of it? Bah. I can do this all myself - who on earth would ever hire a wedding planner? JCew wedding dress, it is! No flowers, no decorations - yes I can do this! Getting married in a far away location, certainly! All if I can avoid this hassle of a I- don't- like- planning- but- I'm- doing- it- for- my- mother event!

Hrmph.

Still, there's something to be said about the traditional wedding - the self-centered, over-priced, super-hyped 6-hour event. There's something to be said about having the opportunity to have a fuss made over oneself. When else will other women bake me penis-shaped cookies and adorn themselves in toilet paper wedding dresses? I mean, come on - this is important fuss-making!

A few congratulatory calls people? Maybe an engagement gift? Anyone wanna' throw me a party?

Such rhetorical questions actually led tears, great upsetness, and much comforting on the part of Greg... concluded by the equivalent of make up sex, except that I wasn't angry with him - just the rest of the world. Doesn't it know I'm getting married soon?!

All sarcasm aside, I find myself hoping for just a tiny amount of fuss-making - some small level of This is My Day and I am a Princess feeling. There are a couple of things about my life at the moment that complicate that from ever happening:

1. 2 years ago I moved 2000 miles away, taking only my dog and way too much shipped via FedEx with me
   
2. I met The Boy (TB) at the dog park 7 days after moving to The New Location (TNL) (at the dog park, can you believe it?)
   
3. TB and I were successfully dating in TNL within a week after I met him
4. TNL seems to be particularly void of other interesting people. Who wants to go out with other people when there's the possibility of hanging with TB?
5. TNL is also filled with an extremely busy job and all sorts of hobbies that cropped up to compensate for the utter lack of other people in my life. Thus, the mercilessly self perpetuating cycle.
   
6. The Old Location (TOL) seems to be particularly filled with very good friends that are very terrible at keeping in touch

Thus the dilemma. It's been two years, and TNL is mostly characterized by a lack of other people. Not that I don't have friends - I do have plenty of people to talk to and hang out with - but somebody who wants to go dress shopping with me? Who wants to agonize over details of sage vs. powder green wedding invitations? Who will watch me try on the 11th pair of strappy white shoes and still exclaim, "They Look Fantastic!". This I do not have. Normally such a gaping hole in my otherwise acceptable social life would be no problem (as it hasn't been for the last two years), but there a few things that make it particularly obvious at the moment:

1. By choosing to get married in Italy with only our immediate family present, we are foregoing a lot of fuss-making and planning, but part of the reason for forgoing it is the...lack of other people to participate in the fuss-making and planning. Thus, with each mention of "italy", there's some reminder of the social aspects of my life I've been totally neglecting in the TNL...which somehow, in my PMS induced state, leads me to conclude that I am friendless hag (obviously not so, thanks blue pill for twisting my emotions to this point)
   
2. I may be an independent gal, but I am not about to go try on wedding dresses alone
3. TB can't go try on wedding dresses with me
4. I am not getting married in the TNL or TOL, or really anywhere within driving distance or decent internet surfing access.... so basically, I won't know where I'm getting married at, what flowers are available, or who's going to take photos of the event until the week that I actually get there
5. I forgot #5, but remind me again why this whole Italy thing was a good idea?

I mean, we decided to get hitched in Italy precisely to avoid all of the fuss-making. But I just can't help missing it a teensy bit, especially because under different circumstances I would enjoy some of this. Double especially, my mind is completely consumed by wedding planning, even though I don't... really... have... that... much... to... plan. Given a lack of variety of things to plan, I have found myself planning one thing very, very carefully. And that can get a little intense sometimes. Which leads to much self-pitying and falling asleep with every good intention to wake up in a bad, self-centered mood once again.

But as usual, my mood would not cooperate. Instead of waking up in a bad, self-centered mood like I fully intended to, I woke up with some sense of perspective: it's not that important. I have friends. I have loved ones. There are plenty of people to share in my life, and one particular person that I am particularly grateful for. Yes, it is true, that a suitable girl to go wedding dress shopping with is not located in this particular place (TNL), but there are several such people back in TOL. And when I go visit TOL over thanksgiving, I will have every opportunity to try on 11 pairs of strappy sandals, cursing the fact that I have to plan a wedding all the while with people who can sympathize.

Cuz, you know...strappy white sandals are really important

Love me, love my fiance

Reasons I am way un-cool:

1. When I'm grumpy, I'm grumpy. Don't talk to me when I'm grumpy
2. I'm grumpy anytime before 9am
   
3. My dog hasn't had a bath in 4 months
4. I always wear white socks, even if the pants are dark
5. I don't like eating out all the time: I'd almost always rather cook it myself

Why you would love me:

1. I am a spectacular cook
2. I'm really into photography
3. I'm Jewish, vegetarian, and very politically active, but I'm not going to shove it down your throat
   
4. I love our two dogs more than life itself (no, there are no dogs out there any cuter. We've already decided this. Ours are the cutest. End of story. Except, if they weren't both fixed, their puppies would be even cuter)
   
5. I am one of the most loyal friends you'd ever have, and I'm there whenever or however you need me
   

Why you would love Greg:

1. Favorite line: "Welcome to the Krusty Krab! Arrrrr!"
2. He does laundry like a madman
   
3. He always lets the dogs out. Even at 1am, he gets up and lets the dogs out
   
4. He's Italian, and thus makes fantastic eggplant parm, pasta sauce, and homemade pizza. Yumyum.
   
5. There's one tiny little fish swimming in a 50 gallon tank next to me, and he insists we keep it alive. (Eventually we'll get the fish some friends, I swear)
   

Best Day Ever

My fiance Greg and I have a little weekly tradition. My claim to fame in our relationship is that I did indeed get him addicted to highly over-priced, over-caffinated and over-indulged-in espresso. Myself, I used to be a flavored latte girl (almond please), but now I have switched to the closest I can get to a purists' espresso: cafe americano (espresso + water). He will probably always be a cappuchino man. We like to go to this fantastic independent coffeeshop, Fuel, every Saturday moning. Aside from the perfectly brewed cappuchino's and americano's, we always order the same thing: egg sandwiches. My favorite is a rosemary bagel, smothered in butter, egg, and a slice of american cheese.

Yummy, calorie-indulging fantasy breakfast. It's the kind of breakfast where you won't want lunch until 4pm.

Thus was our morning. We sat there for more than an hour, enjoying the breakfast, people watching and learning Italian in preparation for our wedding-to-be in Umbria this spring. Not that we actually need to know Italian, but what better excuse to learn something?

Could this day get any better? Why yes it could. After breakfast, I persuaded Greg to follow me to Ann Taylor Loft. Do they have the most imaginative clothes ever? Not exactly. But at The Loft, I am able to afford the basic business attire that my tiny tiny salary can ever deal with. This day was his treat. I had been worrying about what to wear at an upcoming conference, and we decided it was time to buy me a suit. It was to be a matching suit so that I could stop trying to assemble the weirdly uncoordinating pieces I already own.

I spent 30 minutes trying on various sizes and shapes. I walked out with my brand new outfit, $250 in the hole - ouch. But, I have a suit, and better yet, a guy who thinks I look hot in it.

Then, as we're driving away from afforemented Loft, he gets a call. It was the jeweler! Calling about my engagement ring being almost ready (the diamond is not yet set). Now, ladies and gentlemen, we have been engaged for over four months and there is still no ring. The engagement itself was more a mutal decision making process, and I definitely wanted us to decide on a ring together without feeling rushed. So we designed a beaut and found a jeweler who could make it. Today, it was all ready and cast in white gold. He just wanted me to try it on before setting the stone.

We went from coffee/italian --> buying me a suit --> putting a diamond sparkly thing on my left hand. How self centered and fantastic is that?

On this particular morning, I am consumed by my absolute puppy dog love for Greg. I am consumed by the happiness that I am so fortunate to have love, to have such an amazing, wonderful, perfect guy. Thanks world, for letting me be so lucky.

It is only 11:37, and already it is The Best Day Ever.

Judging People In Relationships (JPIR)

This morning I hate people I think. We were up very late last night. Greg realized what he did was wrong - what he should have done is stayed dead silent, just like T did. To clarify, Greg absolutely thought what K said was wrong and a terrible thing to say - he just saw it in a larger context. He saw it as a poorly worded comment, not something indicative of prejudice on her part.

That clarified, he still handled the situation really poorly. I am always JPIR. Sometimes I realize that I am engaged to someone who is not as mature as I am. And then I think about it in a different way - that he knows how to handle some situations and I know how to handle others. Is that accurate? I think so. Does it make my frustration go away? Unfortunately not.

Maybe the problem is my problem. That's what the big debate is in relationships: is it me, or him, or us? I spent 5 months convincing myself that I was the problem in my awful, argumentative relationship with my ex. I spent another five months convincing myself it was us, then it was him, and now I realize that it's a little of everything.

Are some people just inherently better or worse than others?

Do you compare yourself to your SO?

I am guilty of that: JPIR. It is unavoidable: every little mistake, every little slip-up... it all feels so important and significant. It all feels like it speaks so much to his personality, even when logically I know that people are complicated things with good days and bad days and nobody will be 100% perfect all of the time. I am a forgiving person under the right circumstances, but oftentimes I am harshest on Greg. I have no tolerance for the fact that he was not as offended as I was about what K said - even knowing that he sees something less black and white than me, sees that she is a good person, a liberal, politically correct journalist, and sees that she said something before thinking about whether she said it right. Even though I know he was trying to diffuse things, even though I know he thought his participation would benefit me, it still angers me. I often just don't care. I see it as a fault. And faults are unacceptable.