In the words of Erin’s frog, she is completely harshing my mellow.
I mean, I was happy just floating along, all, “I’m SO ready for this Costa Rica trip. I’ve got typhoid shots and a backpack – what more do I need?”
And then came this post. This awful, horrible, mellow-harshing post that, aside from making me laugh at Erin’s pantaloons, sprouted this demonic little thought in my head that maybe – just maybe – I should think about packing.
Have I been worried about the language barriers? Sure. Have I been concerned my fragile little underexposed body might have difficulty adjusting? Of course. Have I been concerned I’ll make a true American ass of myself by not understanding the culture? No doubt. I expressed all of those concerns here. I’ve already admitted that when it comes to this trip, this is me:
But in all honesty, I haven’t let myself freak out about these things because:
a) I’m doing the best I can to prepare in a limited amount of time by studying up on some Spanish (and buying a phrase book); seeing the doctor and getting proper medications; and reading up on Tico culture in my nifty little guidebook, and
b) We’re going to be working for a great family who, at every chance they’ve been able to get so far, have been straightforward and quick to reply with what to expect.
But then comes Erin with her post about practicalities, like packing??!
Not to mention the panicked phone call I received from her at REI just yesterday when she was struck with an insurmountable bout of indecision. (Did I tell you I wouldn’t tell anyone about that, Erin?? It’s a good thing only 6 people read this.)
So I’ve decided it’s time to start assessing where I stand, starting with the GINORMOUS bag of goodies and gifts my exceedingly generous friends from work gave me over excessive amounts of tequila (accompanied by a small amount of margarita fixings) after my last day at work.
Okay. Wow.
I will admit there are a few items here I may not be taking to Costa Rica. See, I have a limited amount of room in my backpack, so it’s inevitable that some things out of this huge, thoughtful bag of gifts will get left behind.
Like maybe these:
Not because they’re not totally awesome, but I do need to be a little practical here. I’m only allowing myself to bring 2 pairs of shoes (possibly 3 if I can’t find the right wet/dry amphibian shoes), and I’ll need my 1 pair of flip flops to work with the majority of my clothes. Unfortunately, I just don’t have that much teal in my wardrobe. But maybe I should.
And these two items:
While I understand the practicality of packing the proper head gear, I should probably be realistic about what I’ll actually wear. For example, the first hat might really come in handy if I find myself devoid of bug spray or if I decide to take up beekeeping, but I’m hoping to avoid both scenarios during this trip. And the second… well…
Well.
There are, however, some really really great things in here that will definitely be making the cut.
Like food. Can’t go wrong with that. And while I might not be bringing all of this food, I can definitely see where it might come in handy on the trip out there or during one of our weekend excursions.
And how cool are these nifty little tools?? I find myself walking around the house just looking for an excuse to use these.
These are just a few of the multitude of basic hygiene and toiletry products, which are fantastic (don’t ask about the Gold Bond – hopefully I won’t need it):
And this – this I was really excited about. VERY few people are cool enough to sport one of these:
I am lucky enough to be one of those people. To prove it, here’s me during a Geology field trip circa early 2006:
See? Cooler than words can express.
They also got me this great little sling bag made out of recycled products. I haven’t actually tried to take it out of the pouch because I’m afraid I won’t be able to get it back in, but rest assured I will likely get my use out of this puppy once we’re there:
There were many, many more things in there as well, including a rain poncho, first aid kit, ear plugs (in case Erin snores), ibuprofen, and sanitary hand wipes, just to name a few.
I’m incredibly lucky to have worked with such amazingly thoughtful people. It almost feels like I don’t need to bring anything else. Almost.
I love chocolate and peanut butter so much. How do I describe my passion? Let’s see… If I could have a 3-way with chocolate and peanut butter right now, I would. I might even let them videotape it.
Ahem.
As it stands, my enjoyment of this delicious peanut butter cream pie (recipe found here) has remained relatively private – shared with only a few select neighbors in the protective confines of their living room.
See, I was assigned the dessert responsibility for their “Dutch BBQ” the other night. For some reason this pie, which I hadn’t made in several years, popped into my head. I couldn’t get it out. Luscious creamy peanut butter base with a fluffy chocolate topping. Have I mentioned how much I like chocolate and peanut butter? (See “Who the Heck is Katie?” at the right.)
4 peanut butter cups, cut into 1/2 inch pieces (Optional – I know it takes away from the presentation, but I often forgo these little adornments on desserts. I feel like it adds stress when cutting the slices because everyone wants a piece of the peanut butter cup and there might not be enough. It also dictates the size of the pieces. And that’s just not right.)
Here’s What You Do:
1. Put your half brick of softened cream cheese in a bowl.
2. Add 1 Tbsp. of sugar, 1 Tbsp. of cold milk, and 1 C. peanut butter. Stir until creamy.
3. Fold 1 1/2 C. of the cool whip to the peanut butter mixture.
If a little bit of it falls on your finger, just go ahead and lick it off. You shouldn’t fight impulses like this. Fighting them makes you grow up. And no one wants to do that.
Fold in the Cool Whip.
The Cool Whip will make it nice and fluffy.
4. Spread the peanut butter mixture into the bottom of the pie crust.
5. Whisk the pudding mix and 2 C. cold milk together in a large bowl until relatively smooth.
6. Add the remaining Cool Whip and stir to combine.
7. Spread the chocolate mixture on top of the peanut butter layer.
Okay. So it’s not the most attractively presentable dessert to take to a gathering. But I promise you, when people get a taste of that creamy, chocolaty, peanut buttery goodness, they won’t care.
Especially when served with a tall glass of milk.
Seriously. If you ever want anything from me – almost anything at all – shove a piece of this under my nose and I won’t be able to resist.
Is anyone more crazy about chocolate and peanut butter than me?!
You don’t have to say it – I already know. You’re mad because I’ve been lax in my home renovation updates. And I want you to know that I understand. It’s okay to be upset.
It’s like 4 months ago I tricked you into thinking this blog was going to have actual DIY projects and before-and-after photos. I took you out to a nice dinner, opened the car door for you, wore a fancy suit – then, when we started to get comfortable, I began complaining about your cooking, making jokes at your expense, and wearing my holy underpants.
It’s inexcusable, I know. But the thing is, people change. Interests change. And while it’s still incredibly important that we get this house in shape before we have to sell it, I’ve got bigger fish to fry right now than picking out flooring to replace the worn-out carpet in the living room or scraping popcorn off the rest of our ceilings.
But. That doesn’t mean I can’t show you some things we’ve done already. There are several rooms in the house that, while not complete, are vastly improved from the day we moved in.
Aside from the remodeled kitchen, our guest bathroom has probably seen the most change. I showed you how it looked like a crime scene for several months while we attempted – in vain – to remove the maroon paisley wallpaper. But lucky for us, and our guests, it now looks a whole lot different.
BEFORE:
AFTER:
DURING:
AFTER:
DURING:
AFTER:
DETAILS:
We tiled the floor with porcelain tiles bought at Restore Warehouse for a fraction of what they would’ve cost at a tile store. The actual DIY process of tiling the floors was not captured in photos. Let’s just say it consisted of approximately 48 hours of intense stress, sweat, near-filing of divorce papers, and maybe a little blood.
We tore out the old brass shower doors and had the nasty yellow tub refinished. Then we hung this nifty curved shower curtain rod to make the shower extra roomy.
I haven’t hung anything on the walls yet, but I have decorated my toilet. Because I’m cool like that. We added the wainscoting and chair rail (all that white trim on the bottom half of the walls) because when we ripped out the vanity, we may have damaged the drywall. Just a bit. So this was our solution. Happy accident, right? We only had to re-do it once.
And I bought this nifty cylinder thing to hold the TP. Pedestal sinks look pretty, but they’re sure not ideal for storage.
And um… we can wash our hands.
We can dry ’em, too.
And if we find we need to do dirty, smelly things in this pristine new room, then at least we have this.
Like, 100-degrees+ day after day after day for the past couple of months. We maybe get a breather in the 90’s every now and then, but those days seem few and far between.
It’s a muggy, sweat-inducing wall of solar energy out there, and I’m loving it. I’ll take these sweltering, b.o.-urging summer soggers over bulky sweaters and frost any day. I can take the heat, as long as you can take the smell.
But if there’s one thing to complain about during these crazy hot days, it’s the fact that it’s damn-near impossible to turn on the oven without raising the temperature of my entire house by at least 20-degrees.
Sweat? I don’t mind it. Excruciatingly high a/c bill? I mind it.
So when I get home from work, I’ve had to force my vino or cold beer-influenced mind (do I sound like an alcoholic?) to get a little creative.
Lucky for anyone who depends on my cooking for survival, my sister sent me a recipe a few weeks ago that she’s been insisting – incessantly – that I try. She calls it, “The Best Salad Ever,” though I still think I dig this one just a tad more. But, considering hers takes a bit less work (store-bought dressing and no slicing of mangos, which is a huge pain-in-the-ass by the way), I will highly recommend it after finally caving and making it last night.
Say hi, Kelly.
It didn’t take too much convincing for me to try it since it requires very little work (score!) and the use of avocados (double-score!).
Here’s what you need:
Chicken (You could use breasts or whatever you have – I used tenderloins since they cook very quickly and are great for salads)
Seasonings for the chicken (I’m deliberately vague here because you really can use whatever your little heart desires. Upon Kel’s recommendation, I used dried basil and garlic powder)
Romaine Lettuce
Golden Raisins (Whatever you do, do not leave these out! I don’t even like raisins as a general rule – they’re all wrinkly and have a weird texture, but these completely complimented this salad so deliciously, it just would not have been as special without them.)
Avocado (yum, yummy, yum yum yum)
Bleu Cheese Crumbles
Red Onion
Bleu Cheese Vinaigrette (Don’t pass on this, either. I’d never had it, but it’s wonderful. Not as heavy as that cream-laden stuff. I found this next to the bagged lettuce at the grocery store.)
Mandarin Oranges (I didn’t use these because again, they’re weird and wrinkly, but like the golden raisins, I bet they’d be really good in this)
Croûtons (Didn’t use because I forgot. And you know what? I didn’t miss them.)
Here’s How to Put it Together:
1. Heat up some olive oil in a sauté or grill pan over medium-high heat.
2. Season your chicken with your choice of seasonings (I used dried basil and garlic powder – plenty of it).
3. Cook your chicken until it’s no longer pink and the juices run clear. I look for the purty grill marks and then slice open a piece to make sure the pink is gone.
4. While the chicken is cooking, dice up some read onion – or leave it in rings if you prefer – and dice up your avocado. I only used half the onion, by the way, and still had plenty leftover. Red onion can be pretty potent. If you’re going to let your diced avocado sit out for awhile, sprinkle some lemon juice on top to keep it from turning brown.
5. Just like the Honey Lime Grilled Chicken Salad, I like to serve this up assembly-style. Throw all of the ingredients into a bowl per your preferred ratio. Everybody’s happy!
Look at that – romaine, avocado, finely diced red onion. bleu cheese, magnificent golden raisins, and grilled chicken – all partyin’ together under a kinky drizzle of bleu cheese vinaigrette. Mmmmmm.
I mentioned way back here that I’ve been getting a lot of questions about this upcoming trip to Costa Rica. Since then, some people have been acting a little… timid… around me. Like they’re afraid to say or ask anything lest I bite their heads off with my self-righteous wailing.
Let me clarify by saying that these – well most of them – are not bad questions. If I seem annoyed when they’re asked, it’s only because I’m irritated with the fact that they force me – repeatedly – to face the fact that I don’t really know what I’m doing.
I do, however, know that when I force myself to answer them, I don’t doubt for a second that this trip will be a worthwhile experience.
And don’t worry – we’ll be sharing our packing list and trip blunders along the way.
But it’s the after questions – the, “What are you going to do when you get back?” and, “How long can you sustain your finances without a real job?” questions that, as much as I hate to admit it, make my pits turn damp and stop me cold.
For these, I really have no answer. Right now I only know my way out of what I don’t want in this life. Stagnancy. Politics. Achievements in the form of framed certificates I can hang on my cubicle wall.
Slowly, after literally years of questioning the career path that found me, I eventually realized that all I can do is take my exit, as gracefully as possible, and hope it leads me not just somewhere else, but somewhere better.
I picked up on another Avett Brothers line the other day (I’m sorry if you’re sick of the mentions here – but their lyrical wisdom is far superior to anything I could write myself), that translated the plea in my head to real words:
“I’m as nowhere as I can be / Could you add some somewhere to me?”
There’s that word again. Somewhere.
When it dawned on me that I’m only where I’m “supposed” to be and doing what I’m “supposed” to be doing, I wondered why I’m not doing what I want to be doing. I can’t explain it. It’s pure selfishness in all its glory. And I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing.
All I knew was that I needed a new experience. Any experience.
So that’s what I’m after.
(That, and figuring out how to make my thoughts work without ending them in prepositions. Because like Winston Churchill, “Ending a sentence with a preposition is something up with which I will not put.”)
After that? Who knows. But I’m sure it will be great.
And even if it’s not, at least it will be me.
*The internet is a veritable soup of hauntingly beautiful imagery mixed in among the muck and grime of other less inspiring, mundane frivolities (like this here blog). Although we’d like to get to the point where most of the images found here are our own, all of the ones you see in this post were acquired from weheartit.com, which, in turn, compiled the images from other places across the web. If you happen to find your image here and want it credited or removed, just contact us and we will comply pronto. Thanks!
And, hope-of-all-hopes, it’s the last Monday that will ever, ever inspire something like this.
I will, however, miss Mondays with her.
And them.
And him.
And them.
And many, many, many more.
But I’m pretty sure I won’t miss this.
And if I ever have to use one of these again, it will be too soon.
So here’s to Monday – that poor, undervalued and often misunderstood day of the week that for me, until now, was frequently viewed with apprehension and disdain.
But no more.
Today, Monday, we have reached a turning point in our relationship. Today it’s just you, me and a little thing I like to call hope.
So my soon-to-be ex co-worker Stacy (remember her?) recently brought my attention to this little article.
Before I go into my analysis, I just want to say that I’m proud of the fact that we have male and female readers. Even though Erin and I are a couple of chicks, I like to think we’re throwing something out there for everyone. So please don’t take the following rant as guy-bashing. It’s not. I love guys. Some of my favorite people are guys. Truly.
What follows is stupid-article bashing. And while I don’t think Erin and I intend to frequently use this blog as a forum for debate, I’d love to get your take at the end – male or female. Just don’t be too mean. Oh, and please excuse my overzealous use of quotation marks.
RELATIONSHIPS VS. HAPPINESS
First, I’d just like to say how much I love the fact that Fox News decided to write an article called, “Romantic Comedies Can Damage Your Relationship, Study Says” and then file it in the “Sexual Health” section of its website. Now I don’t tend to frequent the Fox News website, but if I did, I think I would head on over to the “Sexual Health” section to look for articles about how often I should get a mammogram, or how to get rid of the crabs that happened in Vegas but did not, in fact, stay in Vegas as promised.
What I would not expect to find is a whiny fluff piece about how romantic comedies (aka. “rom-coms”) are horrible for relationships because they provide a “warm and fuzzy feeling [that] can adversely influence our [womens’] view of real relationships.”
Huh?
So are they saying our view relationships should be cold and abrasive?
I’m already confused.
Dr. Gabrielle Morrissey, director of the so-called study and apparently a “relationship expert” states, “It seems our love of rom-coms is turning us into a nation of ‘happy-ever-after addicts’.”
What’s this, Dr. Morrissey? We shouldn’t hope for happiness in our relationships? And if we do, then they must not be real? Then why are we wasting our time with them? If we didn’t expect relationships to be happy, we’d probably never seek them out. Picture it: women wandering listlessly through the streets looking for a bit of chocolate or a pint of Ben and Jerry’s while men casually stroll by asking them to step into an alleyway every now-and-then.
Never expecting happiness in a relationship? Sounds pretty miserable to me.
The article explains that the study shows these rom-coms lead women to have unrealistic expectations of their partners – outrageous things like wanting their partners to buy them flowers or get down on one knee to propose.
Okay, Fox. I totally could’ve bought your argument if the study showed women were suddenly expecting their men to learn guitar, write them a love song, and serenade them in a courtyard in front of a bunch of strangers ala “A Lot Like Love.” (Great rom-com, by the way.)
But chiding women for expecting a couple of nice gestures along the way? Are these seriously high expectations? Come on. We don’t need to watch romantic comedies to want our partners to do something nice for us. Geez, I’d hate to think what would happen if women asked men to swallow.
Suddenly a little boom box action isn’t looking so tough, is it?
In all fairness, Dr. Morrissey goes on to state, “Real relationships take work, and true love requires more than fireworks.” Really. Because it took an “expert” to tell us that. Of course relationships take work. Maybe work like… I don’t know… thoughtful gestures? But wait. They already said those were unrealistic expectations.
The thing that irks me most of all is her use of the term “true love”. It seems to me that someone who believes “real” relationships should not be “warm and fuzzy” has no business using a term as goopy as “true love”.
That phrase is a little much even for me, and I’m a known sucker for romantic comedies.
FAIR AND BALANCED
There is a key argument missing from this entire story. So, in order to make sure Fox can stay on top of its whole “fair and balanced” motto, I’ve decided to write the second half:
Forget how rom-coms will make us silly, impressionable, doe-eyed women unrealistically expect our horrendously lazy and selfish bastardly man-children to occasionally buy us flowers or get down on one knee while proposing. The nerve.
Most women understand what’s realistic and what is not.
Unrealistic expectation? Probably.
Unrealistic expectation? I hope not.
And in this day-and-age, this works too:
But the other argument this study didn’t reveal is the unrealistic expectations these movies give men about women. Here are just a few:
We don’t sleep in our makeup.
If we do, we don’t wake up with it still looking as fresh and perfect as it did when we first applied it. Instead, it would be smeared all over our face and our pillow. Oh, and our hair doesn’t curl itself in the middle of the night.
We don’t discuss men while sitting around together in our bras and panties. (And if we did, we certainly wouldn’t tell you about it.)
Sometimes we fart.
We’re not going to freak out if you talk to us like grown-ups. Avoiding confrontation isn’t “cute” or “charming” and in the end, lying about something is going to tick us off way more than you telling us you just want a night out with the guys.
Many of us talk about sex more often than we talk about relationships.
We have hair. Hair that social norms require us to shave, wax, chemically burn, or pull out by the roots much more thoroughly and frequently than you. It’s a pain, and sometimes we’re going to get a little lazy.
I can’t think of a single one of us who would mistake you-know-what for hair gel. And if you run across a woman who does, you might want to run the other way.
So that’s that. Guys, just because we’re out there watching these movies doesn’t mean we expect our relationships to be full of grand public gestures of your undying adoration. But do we appreciate thoughtful gifts or kind words? Sure, probably as much as you!
Relationships are work and they do require open communication. And to that effect, maybe the rom-coms are on to something. I think most men and women understand that. Problems arise when we get lazy and start taking our partners for granted – when we stop doing nice things for each other just because we don’t want to take the time, spend the money, do the work.
I am certainly not a relationship expert. The hubs could attest to that. But some things are pretty straightforward.
The bottom line? Guys, no matter how many romantic comedies we watch, women won’t expect you to base-jump off the top of the Empire State Building to prove your love – as long as you don’t expect us to wake up in the morning with fresh breath and flawless eyeliner.
Okay, folks. This is the easiest recipe I’ve shown you thus far. And some of the (very few) ingredients might seem a little strange to you, especially when mixed together and spread onto a bun of deliciousness.
But you want to make these. Trust me.
These mini hammy sammies are perfect for dinner in front of a movie with a cold beer. Or munchin’ on while watching a favorite sporting event with a cold beer. Or enjoying out on the deck on a balmy night with a cold beer.
Catch my drift?
They’re pretty casual, very quick, and, since they’re easy to make in bulk, would work really great for a party appetizer.
The original Mini Ham and Cheese Roll recipe is found here. I hardly change a thing. (Except, you’ll see in this one particular instance, I thought I had poppy seeds when I did not, in fact, have poppy seeds. Please excuse this horrible lapse in judgement and don’t make the same mistake.)
*You definitely want to halve this recipe if you’re just making it for a couple people. The full recipe below makes 24 mini sammies.
WHAT YOU NEED:
2 Tbsp. dried minced onion
1 Tbsp. prepared mustard
2 Tbsp. poppy seeds (Don’t forget these – they’re great.)
1/2 cup butter, melted
24 dinner rolls
1/2 pound chopped ham (I just use sliced deli ham)
1/2 pound thinly sliced Swiss cheese
Missing from the family photo: Butter (he was getting nuked) and Poppy Seeds (they’re probably off at a bar somewhere tossing shots and hitting on wildly inappropriate women – it’s like pulling teeth to get them to come to these reunions).
DIRECTIONS:
1. Preheat oven to 325-degrees F (more like 315 in our case – our oven cooks hot).
2. Melt the butter in a bowl. Just a lil’ tip: If you use a microwave, it’s easier to cut the butter up and cover it with a paper towel so it doesn’t splatter.
3. Add your minced onion, mustard, and poppy seeds (IF they’d bothered to show up) to the melted butter and give it a good stir.
4. Line a baking sheet with foil, then split the dinner rolls. It’s easier if you leave them attached to each other in groups of 2, 4, or even all 8. That way you can spread everything on ’em and it doesn’t drip through while they’re baking. Just cut them apart when you’re done.
5. Here’s where we deviate from the original directions a bit. The original directions say to spread our butter mixture over the top of the buns, but we like to be sneaky and put some inside the buns as well. Let’s be honest – these aren’t exactly healthy. So why not just go all-out?
6. Assemble the sandwiches by adding the ham and cheese. (I’m sure you could’ve figured out where this is going by now, but I like to spell things out. You know, just in case…)
7. Close ’em up and spread or drizzle more of the butter mixture on top. This is necessary so your buns don’t dry out in the oven. Nobody likes dry buns!
Pretend there are lovely little black poppy seeds adorning the tops as well. It just feels like something is missing without them.
8. Bake them for about 20 minutes until the cheese is ooey, gooey, melty and delicious.
9. Pop ’em on a plate and enjoy! And don’t forget the beer.
