Stir Crazy

When driving cross country there's only so much you can do to entertain yourself. Thank God for satellite radio! This was from an interview with a champagne snob connoisseur about proper storage and drinking techniques.
I found it's much more fun if you answer the questions yourself. Interviewer=bold, expert=italic

What is the proper pouring technique when serving champagne?
Pouring?! Its new years! Tilt the head back and pour it straight down the hatch!

What should I do if I have an unfinished bottle?
Finish it you idiot! 
You should put a Silver Spoon in the top and place it somewhere cool.
   Hah! yeah right. Only if you're going to play capture the flag spoon with it later on! I think you should put a balloon over the top instead, shake it up and let science take over. Then you should follow it up with a massive, all inclusive, no holds barred pillow fight. In your underwear.

How many bubbles can one glass of champagne produce before it goes flat?
Are you serious? Who cares! A) you should drink it before it's even had a chance to think about going flat and B) if you can count that high you clearly haven't had enough to drink and need to down that one and grab another! (the answers about 2 million just incase you wondering)

Do things like wearing lipstick or chapstick effect the taste of the drink?
    DON'T CARE! It's a party, lipstick adds some color. Besides, it's how I mark my glass. 
Yes it does.
    SEXISM! Foul play! Screw you champagne, I thought we were friends! Good luck getting just men to drink you...

Do things like leftover soap in the glass affect the taste?
    Well duhh....they make it taste like soap! What a dumb question...
How does temperature affect taste?
The colder it is the more carbonated it stays.
     So more hiccups?
 More carbonation equals more bubbles. These bubbles then actually remove impurities in the champagne making it taste crisper.
     Ah. Like the soap. So what your saying is if I'm dumb enough to leave soap in my glass I can just pour REALLY cold champagne in it and let it do it's thing, while in the meanwhile counting the number of bubbles till it goes flat. GENIOUS. Two birds with one stone...

'Tis the Season!

Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas!

The Centerpiece

The Place Settings

aaaaaand I was too busy cooking to take pictures of the food. Sorry! My family, being the unconventional mess that it is, actually opened our presents last night and here is the highlight of the evening- my Gramma's horrifying awesome gift to my sister.

Part 1:

Just to clarify, the evil laughter is coming from the DOG...

Part 2:

Bet you wish you had one, right?

A scene from the candle lit service:

And my two favorite houses in the neighborhood :]

Merry Christmas everyone! Don't forget to leave some cookies and milk out for Santa!

Why Can't I Own a Canadian?

After being rather sentimental yesterday I decided to post something a bit more lighthearted today. Here is something I stumbled upon a few years ago, I'm sure some of you have already read too. I promise, it's still as funny the second time!

Why Can't I Own a Canadian?

October 2002

Dr. Laura Schlessinger is a radio personality who dispenses advice to people who call in to her radio show. Recently, she said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22 and cannot be condoned under any circumstance. The following is an open letter to Dr. Laura penned by a east coast resident, which was posted on the Internet. It's funny, as well as informative:

Dear Dr. Laura:
            Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate. I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some of the other specific laws and how to follow them:
             When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?
I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?
            I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15:19- 24. The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.
            Lev. 25:44 states that I may indeed possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?
           I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself?
           A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this?
            Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle room here?
            Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?
            I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?
             My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? - Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)
               I know you have studied these things extensively, so I am confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.

                                                          Your devoted fan,
                                                           Jim

For the West Wing version of this clever piece of prose click here.

*Note: This is not mean to be offensive to anyone. As a religious person myself I think it only makes it that much funnier.

The Open Road

            I have always loved Christmas. I love the crisp, clean air, the way Christmas lights surround everything in a warm, festive glow, the always welcome break from school, and of course the friends, family and snow. Every year my family drives across country to visit my family here in Nebraska and this time we decided to do it in 34 hours. Now let me tell you, that is a long time to be cooped up in a car with anybody, let alone your lung hacking disgustingly afflicted diseased ridden sister. I'm afraid to breath around her for fear of catching her disgusting cold! So while I usually love our time spent together in the car, this time I couldn't wait to get out. Too bad I still can't get more than 10 feet away from her....

Our hotel in Evanston, Wyoming

        But this year I will get to share the pain with my delightfully eccentric uncle and my sister's Godfather. And as with most families, we cant help but argue. Personally, I like to call it witty verbal sparring with some extra passion added in but hey, call it whatever you like. For breakfast it was the merits of the MCATs which by lunch transitioned into the fate of Julian Assange. The obscure tangents of the in between were just as interesting. We did agree on one thing though- the necessity of a trip to the local mall. So we loaded up the car and headed off into the icy winter air.
          Now I love Christmas shopping. Like many, I hate spending money on myself but will willing pay any price to bestow a smile on a loved ones face. People say Christmas isn't about gifts but it is- it's just not about the gifts you receive. It's about the ones you give. Giving gifts is the same as spreading joy, and I love it. While some fret over finding the 'perfect' gift and assume it is somehow correlated with the highness of the price, I say pshaw! Everyone knows the trick to the perfect gift is finding something the person will enjoy because it is personally relevant and significant to them. It says something about you and that person's relationship. It means you pay attention when they talk to you, that you remember that time they said they liked musicals or wished they had a muffin pan. That you know what they like or dislike and can be creative and fun with it. The best gifts come from the best friends. And I dont mean your Best Friend, but that person who understands you in some special way and with their gift they give you a moment of happiness that makes it all worth while for them.
        So what am I giving you might ask? Well I'll tell you. A small bottle of wine for my Aunt and Uncle I secretly stowed away from a trip to Nappa we took together last summer. Personalized shot glasses from our trip to Florida for my cousin who just turned 21 and is reveling in his new found independence. For my eclectic grandmother who treats herself to lobster dinners courtesy of walmart, a silly lobster bib and a gift card with express instructions to be used ONLY for lobster purchases. For my mother, a pair of onesie pajamas she secretly admitted to still wanting and a forgotten perfume from my childhood. For a good friend back home, it's a giant Taylor Swift poster he would never buy for himself but deep down he knows he would die to have. And as the list goes on and on I can't help but smile and hope they love their gifts as much as I love them :]

The Future Mrs. ?

             I'm embarassed to say today was a day spent dreaming about Martha Stewart and babies. Not to mention getting married, owning a home, having kids and being a wife. But it's not my fault, I swear! It all started with a harmless trip to the mall and ended with lemon and proscuitto stuffed pork loin with oven roasted brocollini. Just hear me out.
             A few days ago my father sent me on a mission to buy some more aqua globes for our house plants, God forbid our dog sitter might forget to water them one day while we're gone. So, being the dutiful daughter that I am, I hop in my car and drive to the one place you can find anything- the magical land of Target. Much to my surprise however, our local Target no longer carries them in the 'As Seen on TV aisle'. Whaaaat? Target doesn't carry something?! Well Fine, I tell myself, I'll just go to WalMart. Take that Target! So I grumpily storm back out to my car and drive over to the not-so-near WalMart that I always seem to miss the exit for. After 30 minutes of searching (could WalMart be laid out any more confusingly!?) I finally ask a salesperson for help. And what does she tell me? They don't carry them either! Since when were aqua globes such a hot commodity?
           But that was yesterday, and I'm not one to take defeat easily so today a friend and I decided to whip out the big guns and go straight to the As Seen on TV store at the local mall. After a yummy lunch, a failed teapot quest and some starbucks scavenger hunting that involved dolphin trivia we finally made it to the store. Ten minutes later I left with 5 new aqua globes. Daughter of the year award- Check! 
           Since we were already at the mall, my friend decided to buy a Christmas gift for his nephew. And that's when the trouble began....We went into the first shoe store we found and headed towards the back where they keep the baby shoes. I thought my heart would melt. Baby shoes are among my most favorite things in the whole wide world, ranking somewhere above rain and just below spaghetti. They're soooo cute and tiny and square and I cant help but hold them in the palm of my hand and imagine chubby little feet nestled inside. Then I start day dreaming about my own little kid and how cute I hope it'll be and what his/her first pair of shoes will look like and to be completely honest.....they turn me into a baby craving maniac. I want to take home every kid in the mall by this point.

How could you not love me!?

 








 

                And the problem is, once I start thinking about babies I can't stop. So we went to the next shoe store and after looking at every single pair they had too, I upgraded from baby shoes to baby clothes. While not quite as cute, baby clothes are still pretty freaking adorable in my opinion. They're just so tiny and fuzzy and brightly colored I can't help but love them. Especially the little tiny footy pajamas that remind of the ones I used to wear back when I looked like Cindy Loo-Hoo. A small wave of nostalgia still hits me every time I pass by one of those stores. I'm sure my kid is going to have at least fifty pairs. I won't be able to help it. 

            But back to the story. We wound up getting a pair of pajamas, but decided no Christmas would be complete without an awesome stuffed animal from the Disney store to top it off. And wouldn't you know it, they were having a buy one get one free sale! It had to have been my lucky day. So like any other kid, we hugged, poked, and cuddled every single one until we found the perfect balance between fluffiness and snugability. We picked one for his nephew and my friend graciously let me take home the free one. It is my pleasure to introduce you to Louis IV, King of Swamp Bottom. (He likes to play jazz)

Please excuse the quality, I had to use my phone.

           As we were leaving the mall I couldn't help but notice all the lovely Christmas decorations which, of course, made me start to think about Martha Stewart and all the ways I would love to decorate my own home if I had one. I know she has a bad rap but you got to hand it to her, the lady knows how to decorate. She's so freaking crafty and everything she makes looks so beautiful and elegant while being wonderfully simple at the same time. I go nuts for it. I mean how could you not think this stuff is adorable!?

          And as you might expect, thinking of my awesome house always leads me to thinking about being a wife and being a wife leads me to thinking about cooking. I love to cook and I love to eat so really it's no surprise that I enjoy spending time in the kitchen. Not to mention good food photography is always a plus. Which is how I wound up with this:

Lemon and proscuitto stuffed pork loin

         
             So after this long winded tale, what have I concluded about myself? I was made to live in the 50's and should really become and nanny. And while my sister so lovingly tells me I'm a weird middle aged woman, I tell her to shut up- cuz while I may be crazy, ten years from now I'm going to eat like a queen and have the better looking house and she'll be living in a cardboard box eating dead bugs.

Who Doesn't Like Madlibs?

Madlibs have to be one of the easiest forms of entertainment available. They're always amusing and depending on your partner, downright hilarious. Inspired by a madlib excercise I did in my creative writing class, here are a few I did last night with an ever amusing friend of mine.

Show 'n Tell 

Today, I would like to show the class a flying fish I caught when I went caroling with my aunt. I had never fished before, but my aunt happily taught me how to bait a hook with a cat and then how to cast the top hat into the glassy lake. I crave fishing! My name is Melissa, and I would like to show the class this runny birthday card from my mother's kitchen. My mother uses it every morning to fix my canned tuna. It is also useful if you are into writing or if you want to slice up some grandparents. If you want one, you can buy it at your local kite store for only fifty-five dollars.

A Day at the Zoo
Today I went to the zoo. I saw a massive pinky jumping up and down in its tree. He cried swiftly through the large tunnel that led to its ridiculous rectum. I got some peanuts and passed them through the cage to a gigantic gray Nebraska towering above my head. Feeding that animal made me hungry. I went to get a smelly scoop of ice cream. It filled my stomache. Afterwards I had to suck majorly to catch our bus. When I got home I found my mom for a sour day at the zoo.

Personal Ad
I enjoy long, enthusiastic walks on the beach, getting sucked in the rain and serendipitous encounters with vaginas. I really like pina coladas mixed with pus, and romantic, candle lit herpes. I am well read from Dr. Seuss to Tolkein. I travel frequently, especially to the shower when I am not busy with work. (I am a black person). I am looking for [cant read handwriting!] and beauty in the form of a moist goddess. She should have the physique of Tony and the knee cap of Wesley. I would prefer if she knew how to cook, clean, and wash my jockstrap. I know I'm not very attractive in my picture, but it was taken 666 days ago and I have since become more tender.

Not an original photo

How To Make a Key Lime Pie- Wainwright Style

Now that I'm back from Duke, the epic recounting shall begin. Today happens to be the last day of winter quarter though and I'm feeling lazy sooo I'll let the photos do most of the talking today. Here's a photo essay (of sorts) on how to make a fantastic Key Lime pie Wainwright style!

Step 1: Date a Wainwright. I highly recommend it.

Step 2: Mix some butter, sugar, cinamon and crushed graham crackers together to form a crust, then bake till firm.

Step 3: Juice the limes.

Step 4: Crack the eggs

Step 5: Add some condensed milk

Step 6: Whisk all three ingredients together and pour into (cooled) pie crust. Then bake!

And that my friends, is how you make a Key Lime pie Wainwright style. Plus or minus a few details :)

'Cuz I'm leaving on a jet plane...

     I should be packing right now but I'm not. I can't seem to make myself do it. I've done the laundry, made my lists, picked out my outfits, decided which shoes to bring, got the scarfs, got the socks, got the mittens, even have the suitcases laying open on the floor, but still they remain empty. How hard can it be to just put the dang clothes in there and zip it up? Well...really hard I guess because its 11:30 and I'm still procrastinating. And I don't really know why.
      Maybe it's my dislike for the whole flying experience in general. I hate the lines, I hate the searching, I hate the mind numbing atmosphere, the disgusting smells, the small suitcases and even smaller seats, the stale air that makes me feel like I'm breathing in an endless stream of other people's germs, the exorbitantly over priced food and lack of entertainment when flying solo. Dear Little, flying without you sucks. I guess I really just hate it all. I can't say that I even feel like the quickness and 'convenience' of flying makes up for its price. So while I'm a little nervoushappyexcitedscared to fly out to Duke tomorrow, I can't say that a small part of me wouldn't prefer to just stayed curled up under my covers tomorrow morning and miss my flight.
       But alas, come dawn I'm sure I will wake up disgustingly early, drag my sorry butt to the airport, grumpily shuffle my way through security and then tune out the next 7 hours of my life. Maybe I'll even read King Lear or write that essay.

All I know is, there better be a hug waiting for me on the other side....
      

 
With Dawn comes Discomfort

R.I.P Fuzios

           Today was the last day of my grandmother's week long visit, and my family and I decided to go out to dinner to celebrate. As usual, we bickered over restaurants, each side loudly clamoring for something different. My sister wanted classic Italian, demanding we go to Cafe Italia while my Dad adamantly insisted on Thai food. My grandma, being the crowd pleaser she is, simply requested a restaurant where she could get a low-sodium salad or maybe some fish. I let them argue for a while, amused by their pathetic ploys to assert their restaurants superiority. And then I said it-
          "Lets go to Fuzios."
           Unanimous agreement. Because really, there is no better restaurant than Fuzios. My family has been going there for as long as I can remember and it was always our restaurant of choice for special occasions, good grades, or victory celebrations. And we have never ordered more than three things; the beloved Carmelized Onion Focaccia Bread, The awesome amazing Firecracker Pork Fusili, and on rare occasions the Fuji Apple Walnut Salad. That's it. Every single time for the last 10+ years. And.  It. Was. Perfect!  I loved our little tradition, the delightful predictability and guaranteed satisfaction, not to mention the half off on wednesday nights.
           So tonight we piled in the car, stomachs growling and mouths watering in anticipation of the delicious food. I could already taste it. But as we pulled up, all the lights were off and there were no cars in the parking lot.
         "Thats odd..." My sister said.
          My stomach sank. I didn't want to eat anywhere else. "They must be closed for Thanksgiving," I replied. "Go out and check the door."
          We sat in the car grumbling about the ridiculousness of being closed four days early for a mediocre holiday. After a while AJ got back in the car and looked me in the eyes.
         "Its closed. Forever." she simply said.

          Error, message does not compute.

         "WHAT!!?? How can it be closed forever!?" I yelled.
         "They just are. The note says 'Sorry, but we will be closed indefinitely'."
          While the rest of my family calmly picked a new restaurant, my world spiraled into darkness. No more Firecracker pork. No more dependable deliciousness. No more half of Wednesdays. No more cheap dates. No more family tradition. How could they do this to me without asking?! Don't they know I'm their biggest fan!? I wasn't prepared for the devastating news, and all I could do was moan quietly in the backseat. I wasn't hungry anymore.
          Even while I stared at the Dos Coyotes menu 15 minutes later, I kept thinking about my horrible betrayal. Please menu, please just have firecracker pork on here somewhere. All I'm asking for is one measly little dish, how hard can that be? But alas, it was to no avail. It never appeared and I had a stupid, albeit decently good quesidilla instead. So now, hours later, I and my tongue have finally come to terms with our loss. And while my heart still hurts, I would like to say, Farewell Firecracker Pork Fusili. You will be missed.

Let's be honest-

      Adult relationships are akward. As the child of divorced parents, I had grown used to thinking of my parents as nonsexual entities for the last 10 years. Mom was Mom and Dad was Dad and that was that. There never were and never would be any others. But recently, all that has changed. My dad has been seeing a new woman for sometime now (he sneakily has yet to specify the exact time), and much to my shame has gone on more dates with her than I've ever had with all of my boyfriends combined. It seems like every single weekend he's down there eating Indian food or visiting Chinese markets and coming back with bottles upon bottles of unreadable sauces and spices. And now, much to my alarm, he's started bringing her here. Into my small little world where its just him and me and my sister and nothing ever changes and parents don't date. To make it worse, he's even introduced her to both his parents! Are those wedding bells I hear....?
           I should probably mention here that I have nothing against the woman, don't get me wrong. She's a lovely Taiwanese computer programmer from Freemont whose the perfect age for my Dad. They seem to like the same things, and although her english can be dicey at times it never seems to be a problem. She's funny and smart and has good taste. Despite only meeting me a few times, she's even asked me for a christmas list with a rather large budget attached to it. She has a beautiful home, the silliest cat I've ever met and a son obsessed with legos. Last weekend, she introduced us to the wonders of home made hotpot. She really seems to be an excellent match.  
          And yet, I can't help but find faults with her. She's not pretty enough for my Dad, I tell myself as if it mattered. Or, she's too snobby, she's such a brand whore. Or she already has a kid, what would we do with him?? I don't want a dumpy, lego obsessed step brother!!  Clearly, it's what he finds attractive that's important and I know its not really up to me, but can't I want the best for my father? In some sort of Oedipal complex I'm sure, I happen to think my Dads rather good looking for an over-the-hiller. He's tall, and strong, and incredibly fit, not to mention the smartest guy I know. So when I look at her, I cant help but think she's just slightly above average. Clearly not good enough, I say! But then again, who would I think is good enough for my Dad? Deep down, do I even want my Dad to date?
       Nonsense, of course I do! Me and my sister have always secretly plotted behind his back that we would set him up by the time we moved out of the house. He's such a loveable guy he deserves to have someone to keep him company and fill his empty hours while we're gone. We just never figured it would happen so soon.
       So today as I sat through an uncomfortably long Ihop and movie date, I couldn't help but contemplate these things as I warily averted my eyes from the constant hand holding, ignored the snuggling, and acted like I didn't notice the stolen kisses in the rain. It seems like just yesterday it was my hand he was holding...

                                     

Do I hear a test test?

Check check! I must say, formatting this blog has proved to be quite addicting. Who knew there could be so many choices!? Looks like my programming class has finally payed off. All in all, a good first day. Lets see what tomorrow brings...