Tag Archives: Jeffrey

Whatcha doin’ for the rest of your life?

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Hey folks. This day is proving to be a stellar one. Although, I haven’t run my yet — first to be outside, three miles, today. So talk to me after that.

Meanwhile, I now have a shirt to wear for the 5k this weekend, Mat Kearney’s new single is out, tonight (after my run, eek) I am watching Babies with Jen T., and we received a water cooler in my office. (It’s the small things, folks.)

Last night Rebecca came over. I lured her over with tofu and veggies, a la stir fry with Thai Red Curry sauce. (Which by the way, is all I ever feed Rebecca. She’s a vegetarian, and I just am not good at feeding her. I sometimes switch it up with a pasta dish, but I get sick of pasta, since as Italians we eat it so much, and I take opportunities to eat tofu very seriously. Anyways, if you have any veggie friends you cook for, send recipes my way!)

Anyways, so after I basically had Rebecca make us dinner and then ate it with her, I gave her a beer, and said, “We need to work on this craft project.” Which, as it turns out, took us until 11 pm. Luckily we had Jeff, Rebecca, and I, so I think the t-shirts are much better looking than they would have been had I did it on my own.

There was a hilarious moment right before we started ironing on letters where Jeff thought one side was down, whereas Rebecca interpreted the other side as being down. He tried to prove himself by taking a spare letter and affixing it to a white t-shirt he had lying around. He ended up affixing it to the shirt he was using as the shield (so the letter doesn’t melt) and now my Ben and Jerry’s shirt (Lauren remember when I got that shirt in Rhode Island, circa 1999ish?) has a nice “S” on the back. Rebecca and I laughed, laughed, and laughed, and it was Becca, 1, Jeff 0. Now, onto the iron-on letters.

We laid the letters out then ironed them on one at a time, while Jeff dealt with printing the design onto the iron-on paper.

Now I was carefully turning the shirt inside out, so we could iron from the other side.

The reveal. Did they stick? Will they stay??

Success.

Now we moved on to placement for the front and back iron-on papers.

*Time lapse.* My shirt is magically done, too!

 

Don’t let these pictures fool you. I did not do much of the work. I merely ironed. Rebecca helped with the placement of the letters and patches, Jeff printed the patches, and they both read the directions and just told me how to iron. Oh, how I love having creative people around me. And a big shout out to Jess, who designed the patch for me in the first place!

Jeff helping me figure out how to get the front patch on. We marked ’em, but I don’t have an eye for straight lines, as it turns out.

Here we come, 5k!

 

 

 

 

You’re so sad, and pathetic. So sad! So wilty!

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That is what I just exclaimed to the spinach I spied in my fridge. Home from running for the night (we’ll get to that in a minute) and now showered, and starving, I ate a few handfuls of “Trekking along with Cashews and Hibiscus” and realized I needed to figure out what to eat for dinner.

The kitchen left clues that suggested Jeff had pasta earlier in the day. “So I am guessing you won’t want pasta for dinner, too?” I asked. “No, I’ll do pasta again,” he says over the phone.

Do I have the ingredients for cheese sauce? Barely. The showing of the cheese in my fridge is distressing. Only parm, and a half-block of raw milk cheddar. Did we have any red sauce on the shelves? No. Now, to those of you who live in LA, I know this will shock you. Don’t worry – I have the supplies to make a sauce from scratch, but my stomach is rumbling NOW. Plus Jeff has to rush back out to work tonight, so that won’t do.

Jeff offers to stop at TJ’s for sauce and sausage – our favorite quick dinner. So now, to the kitchen to prepare the water for pasta (of which we’re dwindling close to less than 5 pounds. Jeff assures me we must use up our “random” pasta before we add to the collection. I am skeptical.) Spinach and chive linguine I must have bought once at TJs, although I don’t know what possessed me. I don’t like linguine. It must have been for something, but now it’s tonight’s dinner.

And now, a vegetable, which leads me to the conversation with the spinach. I opened the fridge, scared of what I’d fine in the vegetable drawer. The CSA from last week is half eaten, and I went to the farmer’s market yesterday and committed a cardinal sin of the farmer’s market. I was on my cell phone when purchasing. I also (sin number two) was in a time crunch, as yoga started at noon. This led to the purchase of a large bunch of spinach, a medium bunch of kale, two crowns of broccoli, an onion, some garlic, three lemons, and who knows what else.

This melody added to the Swiss chard, artichokes, beets, carrots, baby carrots, onion, and garlic I ALREADY had made for a very green fridge. Oh CSA, why can’t you teach me another way to each artichokes?

Anyways, back to tonight, and my kitchen. Like I said, I had a lot of veg. So I figured Jeff would prefer broccoli to say, chard. Opened the fridge, and spotted the sad, pathetic, ONE DAY OLD spinach. “Really? Really you look like that? I bought you yesterday. Pathetic.” So the spinach went in, and then the broccoli as planned, head shaking all the way.

Luckily Jeff knows that TJ’s for sausage and sauce also means garlic bread, so we have that to look forward to.

Meanwhile, I ran Friday and then again today. 1.75 miles today, 23:35. Not bad, says Nikki, and my feet. My body is so sore from yesterday’s yoga where I had a great aha! moment that involved really working my arms like I should have been all along from plank to up dog. Anyways, tangent. This run was the longest yet, probably the longest distance I’ve ever run just to run, and my feet did NOT blister over. They instead have callused. I take this as a good sign, despite that all this working out has led me to talk to spinach in my kitchen…

Waitin’ for the daylight to bring me home…

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I’ve been saying all weekend that I want to update my blog, even though I don’t have much to update you on. Life has been cycling through work, home, sleep, and work again, to no avail. Finally we have reached a breaking point, and the season promises to slow down, thin out, allow me to slowly return to afternoons of running on the treadmill and evenings of cooking and blogging.

We’re planning a road trip, Cor and I, by the way. I posted about it on Garlic, My Soul, but for those of you who don’t read both, now you know. We’re driving the Southern route, starting the day before Easter, meandering through Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Louisana, Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee, and Georgia. Which, is to say, six states I’ve never been to. Seven states in all, nine days, friends and family to see, memories to make, pictures to capture, a final “hoorah!” before Garlic, My Soul goes bi-coastal.

I have this weird cold. It feels like mono, but as I know what mono feels like, it surely cannot. I’ve been getting copious amounts of sleep, lazing about, and drinking a lot of water. I also spent the better part of the weekend cleaning my house for KB’s arrival (and because, let’s be honest, the bathroom always needs a good scrub.)

Yesterday, as I was repotting my rosemary and aloe, Cor stopped by to split up the CSA veggies. She’d had a doctor’s appointment in the area. I’d forgotten that she was coming (weird cold, I’m telling you.)

She chatted with me as I scrubbed the toilet, and gladly accepted a cup of coffee. Then she went to the kitchen to check out the CSA situation. “WHERE did you get the artichokes?” she yelled.

“Oh yeah! The CSA!” I yelled back, from under the toilet.

“I’m going to make them right now.” Water running, dutch oven out. I vacuum the house. She cooks. Mid-90s music blasts in the background. “Hey, Jen, Jeff’s on his way…Jeff’s in the closet. On the phone.” Laughter ensues, artichokes still boiling, vacuum still sucking, giggles emitting throughout the house.

I turn the vacuum off, Cor pulling the artichokes out of the water, whipping up a butter sauce. We spend the next 30 minutes devouring the three artichokes, along with cheese and crackers. Jeff moves from the closet to the bedroom.

Artichokes gone, Jeff off the phone, we clean up. Corelyn goes. The recycling goes out. I shower. Kelly calls, because SHE’S HERE. What a good Saturday…

This week? More Kelly. Carne asada, cookies (chewy, thanks Alton Brown), Glee, game plan for cleaning the office up (we’re moving soon), starting the book club book, blogging, St. Patrick’s Day, a night of dancing, general mayhem. Josh Kelley, dream your fears away, Maroon 5, throw back to 2005, and smelling spring, missing you.

Vegas was…

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Two weekends ago we went to Vegas, and I realized that I never shared with you exactly how it went. Which was excellently.

Vegas was:

In the car, ready to go. Six in, five pm. On the road. Traffic, traffic, traffic. “Hey, you guys want to go to Outback Steakhouse?” A break early on. A cheers to a good trip. Back in the car, “Hey do you guys want to play a game?” Sitting on the dock of the bay, Eminem. On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair…Matt Nathanson pulling at my heartstrings. you wear white, and I’ll wear out the words ‘I love you’ and ‘you’re beautiful’.

Dunkin’ Donuts. Heart shaped donuts. Coffee, coffee, coffee. Two runs. “How could you go to the wrong Dunkin’ Donuts?” and “Just give him the muffins!” Pawn shop, just for the photos, and onwards to Target. Quick trips. Bathing suits, a discussion of clutches, and back into the car home. Make five sandwiches at once. Lettuce, lettuce, lettuce, lettuce, lettuce. Tomato, tomato…In the bag, out the door, onto the strip. Bellagio show, oohs and ahhs and oh, mys.

Sandwiches on the go. On to the Chinese New Year display, the glass flowers, and the terrifying bunny. Screaming on account of said bunny. Pause for a photograph, and camera DOWN. Making plans on the fly, over to Paris to get an Eiffel Tower. Penny slots, bathrooms, a snack, some coffee. Some Eiffel Tower buzz. Back in the car, onto the Beatles Bar. Stop to chat with Kevin, who promises us we’ll get in just fine. Revolution, noituloveR. love. Photographs, photographs galore. Back to the car, to get ready for the evening.

Curling irons, straighteners, two bathrooms, seven girls, seven dresses. Tights, jackets, earrings, gold, silver, teal, red, ruffles, hair ties, makeup, cover up, foundation, mascara. Wait for it, wait for it….ready. Boys have been ready. Out the door, into the car, two in the back, to the strip! Dinner oh là là! C’est parfait! “Guys, I’m having a great time.” Cheers to our trip. A gluten free menu, delicious bread, surrounded by friends. Cheers to a birthday. A happy birthday dessert. “If you paired up everyone on earth with someone of the opposite sex…” and the argument that persists into the main course. Math to pay, out the door…

dance floor. Let’s get it started (in here). Dancing, dancing, dancing, “Have you met my friend?” and introductions as our own matchmaker scourges the club for suitors. But the club can’t even handle me right now/just dance (gonna be O.K.)/and tonight I’m ****ing you/don’t get fancy, just get dancey….and the DJ’s got us fallin’ in love/bottoms up/throw your hands up…and we’re IN the subwoofer…move to the front of the club, side of the club, find a friend, lose a friend, find another, chaos/go shorty, it’s your birthday/I’ve gotta feelin’…

four hours later, dance floor bumpin’ and it’s time to go. Lost wallet? Quick scan of the floor, nowhere to be seen, gotta go…3 am, in the car, consoling, because tonight’s gonna be a good night…to the hot tub. Lost some numbers, still four strong, and four a.m. comes, and time for bed.

wake. check out time, 20 minutes. Clean up, rally troops. Remember bits and pieces of last night. Move into other room. Leave four girls behind, head into bed with M and C. Snuggle. Boyfriend invasion, asking for coffee orders. God, I love this man. C orders two, but it’s her bday, so she can. Living room to hang out and watch basketball, and chat, and remember more bits and pieces…make some calls, find the city’s building, eat some donuts. Head to the police station, six in tow. Photogenic moment at the Council Chambers, misplaced green parking meter. a few minutes here, then onwards to the Mirage, for a lost card…looks like R isn’t the only one missing things…walking with the slowest security guard ever, into the secret hallways of the Mirage…card back, car full of laughter. “Who the **** is that?” on the radio, and an explanation of street vendors’ gossip.

Lions (no tigers or bears, oh my.) Meet at the lion. Lions, sleeping (18 hours a day!) and onto lunch. A hot dog, some ice cream, a bit of pizza, it sure is vacation. Back to the lion, meet at the lion, back to the hotel. Meet up with the pool crew, pack it up, head out. Twilight, dusk, and jumping photos are.a.must. “…and when i’m with you I feel like I could die and that would be all right” crank up the radio. Loading the cars, and S is on top of the SUV, and B is leaping gracefully through the photo, and everyone else is jumpin’ jumpin. If I ever get the nerve to say hello in this cafe… Checking out, and in the car. Gas up the car, off to The Sign. Newly paved, new parking lot, they’re getting smart, walkie-talkie our locale, and it’s time for more jumpin’ jumpin’. We all smile. Dark now, ready for home, but not before one….or two….last pictures.

Hugs all around. Walkie-talkies passed out, and ready to go. Cars loaded, “Hey guys, do you want to play a game?” Chit-chatter, chit-chatter. “Hey guys, we’re going to stop at Outback Steakhouse in a few minutes, here.” Giggles, that won’t stop. Deliberation, change of plans, and…Chipotle. Eating quickly, still laughing, seemingly influenced, but completely not. Laughing, giggling, “Guys I’m having a great time.” Back in the car.

Chit, chat, chatter all. the. way. home. Squished, smeared kiss. One last photo opportunity. Laughs, and cleaning the car, and some hugs. Driving J home. One last hug. Back to bed, smiling. “I saw you spinning back in time…”

Best weekend ever.

Vegas was bliss.

This is why I never get anything done.

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“There is a note on the board that says ‘Hard boil all eggs'” – Jeff

“Yes, its because the eggs go bad tomorrow according to package.” – me

“Well, so you’re going to hard boil them?” – Jeff

“Yes, I could also make you cookies, or a baked good, do you want me to?” – me

“What about brownies, could you make brownies?” – Jeff

“Yea, probably.” – me (proceed to look through cook book and see if I have enough chocolate)

“No, I don’t have enough to make a full recipe. I could make 1/3.”  – me

“Could I go to the store and get the ingredients you need?” – Jeff

“Yea, then I’ll make ‘um.” – me

“What, no, this is ridiculous. Hard boil the eggs, we should relax tonight.” – Jeff

“Ok.” – me

Proceed to boil the eggs, and rinse all the lettuce in the sink because it’s sandy. Jeff stands by, shaking head, coaxing me to sit down and relax.

Guys, I think I’m addicted to cooking.