I don't have a Dad, I have a Papa

When I started this blog a few months ago, one of my very first posts was an homage to my mother and the quirky traits that I have reluctantly and at the same time happily inherited from her. A post that I thought would be well received amongst my family and even revered as being sweet and touching has somehow manifested into a constant source of tension for one family member in particular. The sweet prose and belief that my mother had somehow been placed on a pedestal, has driven this one family member into a constant state of frenzied anticipation for the opportunity to also appear in my itty bitty space in this grand ole blogosphere.

So I thought it was about darn time to put the family quarreling behind us and craft a post dedicated to said family member…Ladies and gentleman, I give you a post in honor of my father, Nick, also known as Tony (an homage to Tony Soprano) or the magic man, but just plain old Papa to me.

1.    One of my very favorite traditions that my father and I still share is our ‘first rain of the fall’ phone call in which I can count on him to call me the instant it starts drizzling to tell me to slow down and avoid being on the road if I can. It is a call that I can count on, regardless of whether or not it actually makes my driving situation more distracted.

2.    My Pop still yells at me when I lick leftover goodness from the precarious blade of the knife I am using. I’m not quite sure where I picked up this sloppy habit that really freaks him out, I’m guessing it came along sometime in the age range of learning to make Nutella sandwiches and refusing to let any of the choclately goodness go to waste.

3.    If my mom is away on vacation or sick in bed, it is a known fact in my family that my father will collect the mail and systematically open every piece of it, no matter the name on the envelope or explicit instructions to cease and desist this obnoxious habit, you can count on Pop to tear through your credit card bills and pen pal letters as voraciously as though they were that month’s edition of the Reagan Library newsletter.

4.    I am pretty sure that the Hostess Bakery Company owes me some sort of lifetime supply of products by now. I may be 23 and much more conscious of my eating habits, but if my father knows that I am going to be home for the weekend, he WILL show up with a box of Hostess cupcakes (my favorite childhood treats) and he WILL help me polish off the box before Sunday evening.

5.    My father may be a master craftsman in his field, he may be awesome with cars, and he may be able to build anything you ask him to, but a techie he his most definitely not! While we have recently, and very reluctantly I might add, introduced him to the wonderful world of Craigslist, my father still insists that he cannot figure out how to turn on the computer or navigate webpages and therefore subjects us to hours of assisted ‘booting up’ comments and assisted craigslist piloting.

When it comes down to it, the five traits above might sound trivial and lame to any outsider, and probably to anyone not within my immediate family. It might sound like I am complaining or being facetious about some pretty standard run of the mill parental obligations, but these ‘standard’ actions mean the world to me. The fact that my father still tucks me in at night when I am home and still plays the ‘I love you times infinity million’ game with me says a lot about him, even if he still eats my sharpie marked leftovers and subjects me to hours upon hours of ‘This Old House’ and ‘Bonanza’ marathons. While he may drive me crazy with his little quirks, it’s these expressions that let me know that it is all va bene because I am still his little girl.

Ciao

Buon Apetito- Parmigiana di Melanzane

Last night I got suckered into cooking a completely vegetarian meal for a date night with my friend Anneka, and I have to admit, I was weary that I might be lost without a nice piece of steak or chicken breast to jazz up my meal, but in the end I was pleasantly surprised by how a vegetarian meal, if done with lots of cheese and sauce, can really be satisfying.

Seeing as we pretty much eat tacos or spaghetti every time we cook together, Anneka and I decided to venture out of our comfort zone and let the produce section at SAFEWAY do the menu planning for us. What we created was delicious and mentally appeasing, as we were really proud of ourselves for being so much healthier than our days of living together when all we ate was frozen chicken wings and rice-a-roni (which I still love!).

I hope that you enjoy this creation as much as we did, it’s a mild twist on one of my favorite Eggplant Parmesan dishes, we added tons of veggies and really had a great time chopping, chatting and of course finishing our bottle of pinot grigio.

Parmigiana di Melanzane Primavera

Time- 40 minutes

Serving- 4-5 people

Ingredients

One large eggplant

3 eggs

Italian breadcrumbs

4 cloves of garlic

1 can whole tomatoes

¼ large white onion

1 package baby portabello mushrooms

1 large red bell pepper

4 tbs extra virgin olive oil

5 leaves of fresh basil

1 bag of shredded mozzarella or provolone cheese

Fresh grated parmesan or pecorino romano cheese

Instructions

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees. Slice eggplant into quarter inch slices, you should get about 15-20 slices from one large eggplant. Whisk together eggs, in separate bowl pour in breadcrumbs and prepare non-stick baking sheet. Bake eggplant for 20 minutes or until soft, if you want them more crispy, you can then broil for 5 minutes or until breadcrumbs are browned.

Chop garlic, onion, mushrooms and red bell pepper into like size pieces.  In a blender, puree tomatoes until sauce like. In large skillet heat oil over medium high and brown garlic and onion. Add mushrooms and bell peppers and cook until soft. Add tomato sauce, fresh basil, salt and pepper to taste (at this point  I also add some crushed red pepper flakes for spice), simmer sauce for 10 minutes.

In a non-stick or prepared pyrex dish, begin layering ingredients. One layer of eggplant slices, cover with sauce and smother with mozzarella/provolone and grated parmesan. Repeat steps until you run out of eggplant. Top off with additional cheese and bake for 20 minutes or until cheese is brown and bubbling.

I would serve this with a fresh mixed green salad with a balsamic vinegarette to cut through the heaviness of the sauce and cheese.

Buon Apetito!

**This post is in no way meant to convince anyone that I will be adopting the vegetarian lifestyle, I am a cheeseburger, chicken fried steak, carne asada burrito kind of girl and don’t intend on changing my lifestyle anytime soon. I’m just saying, I am starting to see that vegetarians aren’t necessarily nuts-o, they actually have some pretty cool and delicious options out there that I am now more willing to experiment with….just don’t bring me any tofu (yuck!)

Ciao

Happy Friday!

This was posted to my great co-worker, Kate's blog. If you are looking for some inspiration, check her out at Ordinary Girl, Extraordinary Journey!

Ciao

Tried and True: Traveling Tips for the Young Professional

As a PR associate, I have had the fun privilege of traveling fairly often for my job and clients. I have also had the unfortunate opportunity to experience some of the serious drawbacks to traveling for business. From the flying in a skirt and heels to the eager-beaver traveler who never quite understands that they are A-21 and you are A-19, hence they should be behind you and not demonstrating the Shaq blockout to ensure that they board the plane first, business travel will always test your patience as it delivers you a constant supply of ‘awww crap’ moments.

So, from one busy young professional to another, take it from me, these are tried and true tips that will hopefully help you avoid some of my very own traveling mishaps:

1.     Never under any circumstances wear a white blouse or kahakis whilst traveling, if you are a caffeine addict like me or just enjoy a simple cheeseburger- hold the tomato-extra special sauce, you can almost be certain that you will hit a bump in the road or a bit of turbulence that will send your cursed affliction flying out of its container and plopping most unfortunately on your freshly pressed chinos.

 2.       Check your gas tank, print off your boarding ticket, and re-confirm your ride to the airport at least 24 hours in advance of your departure. In fact, print two copies of your boarding pass and put one in each of your favorite purses, just in case you decide a switcheroo is in order at the last minute. You may be questioning the gas tank mention, but if infuriate your boyfriend as much as I do by putting in only 5 bucks everytime you stop at Arco, there is a good chance that you are going to run out of gas somewhere between here and your destination, and trust me it takes FORVER for AAA to get to you when you are anywhere on I-5 in the middle of the state.

3.       It’s all about the benjamins! Make sure to stop by your ATM the night before and have plenty of cash to get you through the cab rides and hotel doorman/ bell boys, there is nothing more awkward than having a guy lug your 500lb purple paisley suitcase up to rm #316 and slowly meander out waiting for you to slip him a Lincoln….even a couple Washington’s are better than the linty pack of tums and swift kick out the door you’re going to have to offer him if you don’t take me up on this scrap of knowledge.

4.       Here comes the bride! Go out to Claires and buy yourself the flashiest blingiest fakey diamond ring you can! We’ve all been there, you’ve given the stinkeye to every passenger shuffling past your prime real estate aisle seat, you think your’e safe, and then it happens….Somewhere in the mid-life crisis parallel universe, Mr. 50 something-my kids are probably older than you, mistakes your death glare for a, ‘please sit your way to forward-Ed Hardy t-shirt and jeans- self’ right next to me. You can ignore him all you want, but you know that as soon as the flight attendant comes around to offer you a drink, he’s going to jump on his opportunity to try to get you liquored up and stop you from hanging out of your seat into the aisle in an effort to get away from him.

5.    For your sake and the sake of all others that come in contact with you during the duration of your trip, pack all of your toiletries, including deodorant, toothbrush and makeup (especially your under eye dark circles corrector concealer) in your carry on. There is nothing worse than having to make due with the rudimentary hotel supply of cheapy shampoo, rigid toothbrushes, and overly smelly (really just stinky) lotions and soaps, all because the mouthbreathers at your airline of choice were incapable of transferring your bag onto a 1 hour non-stop flight from SFO to LAX (trust me, been there and it’s all bad)



Ciao

Never Forget

This past Saturday our nation honored the lives lost in the tragedies of September 11th. I can hardly believe that it has been 9 years since that fateful day that so violently shook our country to the core, forcing us all to re-evaluate ourselves through and through. It seems like yesterday, I was running into my parent’s room to alert them, just in time to flick on the tv and watch our world as we know it, literally fall from the sky into mass of carnage and broken hearts.


While time has certainly healed many wounds from that day, I can say that September 11th will probably be the most historical marker for my entire generation. It will be our ‘I remember where I was when…’ moment, and from here on out, any political or social revolution will inevitably be traced to the origins of an event that has forever changed the modern world.

And yet, on the surface, it appears that our nation has moved on from the devastation of that day; we wait in endless security lines at the airport like it has always been that way, we drive past armed guards at our bridges like it is natural, we flick on the morning television no longer wincing for fear that another devastating tragedy has claimed American lives. It is all in the past, and yet the cause of our everyday actions have been mindlessly adapted to our present.

I can say without shame that I too have begun to heal and let go, and the thought of another September 11th anniversary approached me this year with less of a sting and a weakened dread.

Actually, I had something to look forward to this September 11th, for it was the day that my best friend and bonafied prince charming, signed the papers and took the oath to serve and protect our country above all. Gathered on the end of the flight deck of the USS Hornet, the SF skyscape in the background flanked by whipping American flags, I watched Michael in awe of his bravery and dedication to his country and his craft. While family and friends alike looked on, I unsuccessfully struggled to hold back the tears of emotion that this moment conjured up for me, thank goodness for waterproof mascara and eyeliner.

USS Hornet

I look forward to embarking on this journey together, while I never thought my life would involve the United States military, I now cannot imagine my future without the endless possibilities that it will provide for Michael and I. Stay tuned to learn more about where this journey will take us, and remember to continue to pray for our men and women in uniform that have sacrificed so that we may all continue to heal and move on.

(I don’t have any pictures yet, still waiting to get those downloaded. But what I can share with you is that I am thankful that I now have a tangible reason to celebrate such a somber day, and that from now on September 11th will be the start of a whole new future for our lives. )

If you are interested in learning about how you can positively effect the lives and morale of our armed forces serving abroad, click on the USO logo to find out how you can donate and/or volunteer!

Ciao

We Don't Impose, We Improve

After a long lunch with my roomie, of whom I haven’t seen in over a week due to some very unfabulous business travels and such, and one of my very favorite boyfriends, he’s not mine or my roommates’ we were just leasing him from another of our best friends, I got to thinking a lot about friendships, both past and present both happy and sad and certainly both toxic and extremely gratifying.

For the most part I can honestly say that I have never really had that group of friends (with 2 or 3 exceptions from highschool, but that is another blog post in the making), that group of friends that makes you want to call one of them before your parents when something good happens, that group of friends that during any get together, the conversation undoubtedly falls back to the classic discussion of whose kids will be friends with whose, and how important it is to find husbands that are all on the same level of ‘Call of Duty’ so they can keep busy when we get together for parties.

With a title like, ‘we don’t impose, we improve’ , you may have been confused about the topic of this post. But bear with me, I can assure you that once you know a little bit more about what we like to dub ourselves as the ‘fab 7’ (don’t worry, we know…we are totally vain), you will know why that title could not make more sense.

Sit back, relax and enjoy your introduction to the girls who let me be me.

ANNEKA

AKA Anakin Skywalker (dubbed by myself before I realized that I didn’t despise her every move), she and I, well I guess it’s sufficient to say that we didn’t exactly mix like peaches and cream when we first met. But who can blame us? With the struggle between her ego and my incessantly on the prowl crazy eye, it is clear in retrospect that the Lord above really wanted us to work hard for the friendship. Who would have known that all it would take was one crazy toga party, an ill timed fire alarm and a year of living in an apartment with minimal furniture a resident keg and a shopping cart in the living room to really understand that we were soul mates? PS- Anneka, I don’t despise you anymore…well, sometimes maybe I do…but just a little bit.

MICHELLE

AKA Meeshy Peeshy (I think peeshy means cat in Persian but who really knows…lol) Meeshy and I met, well, if you knew either of us, you could guess exactly how we met. It was summer advising, and while everyone else was cowering in the corner of the DC wolfing down chicken nuggets and fiber spiked salad, we both embraced our nerdy dispositions and one, ‘Excuse me, can I sit with you’ and a ‘Of course, hi I’m Michelle’ later, we were the best of friends. We quickly became one, I mean this sarcastically, because, to many in our social circle, we literally became one, while Meesh is Persian and I Italian, it never seemed to matter to anyone, her hairy arms were my hairy arms, my sideburns were her sideburns, at any given moment she was Danielle and I was Michelle, and quite honestly I wouldn’t have had it any other way…

ALI

 Ali doesn’t really have a nickname from me, let’s just say Ali is Ali and there are no other names to really describe her…we met one fateful spring quarter of debauchery and tanning. I honestly for the life of me cannot remember how we met, or for that matter very much of that first spring or summer. All I can say is one morning I woke up with a bangin tan, sportin a tiara and some serious blisters on my feet from hauling a$$ through Arlington in stilettos, I’m thinking we were running away from some salacious scandal that one of us, ahem, Ali, had gotten us mixed up in. Ali is a culinary aficionado, so you ever catch me throwing back a rack of ribs smothered in barbecue sauce and washing it down with a nice big glass of kool aid, you will know that I am paying homage to the days gone by with Princess Ali by my side.

MARIE

AKA Rie, this girl has seen and heard it all….and I mean allllll of it, including the time that she was living with me one summer and had to endure hours of disgusting noises from the closed door of my even more disgusting roommate. From her notorious catch phrase that would make you blush like my former roommate in church, to her adorable cat that sometimes poops on you when you hold him, Marie can simultaneously make you wince with an extremely defaming diatribe directed at an overly pushy guy in a bar all while you admire her stunning snow white complexion and fabulous fashion sense.

LINDZY

AKA, Anjou AKA LiLi- I am pretty sure Lindzy floated down from heaven on the wings of an angel and entered my life to bring me joy and the kind of laughter that makes you feel like you are going to cry and barf all at the same time. While I can recount crazy stories of each of my friends, this girl truly and without any competition takes the gluten free cake for high intensity-how the hell did she get out of that situation alive-make up melting down the face action. With a penchant for very tall ethnic men and dance moves that you wouldn’t expect from a bible reading blondie from suburbia, USA, forever graceful, kind and thoughtful, Lindzy is by far the captain of our very own hot mess express.

CLAIRE

AKA roomie de jour- This girl has the lockdown on the best roommate ever title. While she doesn’t have much to live up to, read Marie’s description and you might guess as to why, she doesn’t leave behind giant hairballs in the shower or every corner of the apartment (ahem, Meeshy, another former roomie), she doesn’t pass out partially de-robed during parties or leave shredded cheese all over the floor (ahem ahem, Anneka, another former roomie) and she most definitely does not judge my sometimes foul often inappropriate fast food binges. This svelte fro-yo obsessed, vegetarian modern hippie is most certainly the yin to my carbo loading, vegging out, fox news morning show blaring, sleeping in yang. I love her in all of her morning wardrobe malfunction-body exposing glory.

While in school, I often said that choosing UC Davis was the greatest decision I’ve ever made, for academic opportunities of course, however, in retrospect I look back and am surprised by how little I remember of my classes, and how much I can only remember the relationships that I gained and will eternally hold dear. I am so thankful to have met these girls, and I am proud to be a part of a ‘true’ group of friends, but for now I have to go, I need to go call one of to tell them that this post is finished, I hope that they all think that this post is va bene.

Ciao

Mommy and Me

I’ve been struggling with this whole, what to write dilemma that has plagued me ever since I took to the blogosphere, so naturally I was thrilled to have a few moments of alone time last night as I drove to my brother’s work to bring him dinner (I know right….how sweet…blah blah blah). Anyways, as I was deep in thought mulling over an idea to rate restaurants where Mr. Abandonment (Michael’s nickname until he can give me a better one) and I have eaten, I pretty much blanked on where I was going and missed my exit……and to my horror I actually heard the phrase, Shucksie Darn, come out of my mouth!! Wait a minute….what?! Shucksie Darn? Who says things like that other than my mother?! And that’s when it hit me folks, it was a realization that I have been avoiding like a long line at Disneyland…but this, this inadvertent use of mommy slang was seriously, out.of.control.


In an attempt to once again deny deny deny, I surveyed my surroundings….Disguising my motivation to learn all the details of my brother’s life in the form of ‘bringing him dinner out of the goodness of my heart’? Check. Speedometer set at 65 mph? Check. Glasses firmly set at the tip of my nose with my hands at 10 and 2 all while gently bobbing to the musical stylings of one Mr. Kenny G? Check. Check, and holy crap, Check!!! I hoped that quickly plugging in my IPod and blasting some random 90’s rap song, something about more money and more problems, might restore my dignity and possibly allow me to slip back into the oblivion known as denial, but to my demise all I could think about for the rest of the drive was all of the little characteristics that I have inherited and exhibit on a daily basis…and so I have created a list for your reading pleasure of how you KNOW when you are becoming…..dahdaaadadahhhh, your mother.


• While your significant other is driving, you; wordlessly tap your passenger side window to indicate what direction you want the vehicle to go, make sudden and overly dramatic gasping noises for no apparent reason, white knuckle the dashboard anytime another vehicle approaches within 20 feet of your car, use this valuable time of not actually having to do anything but sit and stare at the road ahead, to catch up with all 21 of your nearest and dearest BFF’s, on speaker of course.



• You call your husband, boyfriend, favorite child, dog or naggy neighbor, it really doesn’t matter who it is, as long as you feel the need to chat, as many times as needed until they finally answer the phone. I will go on record as stating that I in fact have received 25 missed calls from my mother in the span of 20 minutes, oh and don’t forget….if you can’t reach whoever it is you are trying to get a hold of, you go ahead and start calling their best friend’s mother’s uncle to find out where they are and why they are not answering your phone.
*******I particularly utilize this trait when my abandonment issues really kick in and Michael will not answer his phone, I don’t care if he is in the middle of injecting Novocain into someone’s jaw, I need to talk, and I need to talk now….


• The drawer next to your refrigerator, aka the one that used to be filled with keg taps and ping pong balls in college, is now overflowing with Round Table and Cultive coupons…even though you will never use them.

 • While you demand that your roommate, hubby or child wake up at the butt crack of dawn to play Cinderella and scrub down the bathrooms and take down the dirty clothes before school or work (helllloooo, my childhood)…you STILL obsess about people coming over to your home, and it being haaahhh..gasp…messy! In other wards you live and die by Pledge and Windex, and you take it as a compliment when your guests make a slight choking face when they walk into your house and are asphyxiated by Island Mist Febreeze.



• You’ve had a bad day, and instead of going to Taco Bell to buy out the entire Value Menu…you exclaim that anyone who depends on you for food supplies is on their own for dinner, and you hop on down to Raley’s picking yourself up a nice German chocolate cake and box of Pasta-Roni Stroganoff (I know this is pretty specific, but it is probably one of the traits that I most fear to inherit…)


This list is only the tip of the ice berg of what I have to look forward, the minor traits that can be brushed off as ‘cute’ and possibly ‘endearing’. It won’t be until my DVR lineup includes ‘Days of Our Lives’, ‘Wheel of Fortune’ and syndicated episodes of ‘Survivor’, until I really start worrying.


I am not going to lie, this post definitely had me chuckling to myself as I recalled all of my mom’s quirks and eccentricities. And in the end, I have realized…so maybe I have an irrational view of what is really clean, and maybe I get worked up into a tizzy when I go to a restaurant that I have not already pre approved…but if I have inherited these quirks, then I can only hope that I have also inherited even a pinch of the kind of mom my mom has always been to me, because I think that would be totally va bene.


***Authors Note: The term ‘Shucksie Darn’ is not an original phrase, please direct all credit to Ms. Lindzy Anderson and her shared fear/wonderment of becoming her very own madre.


Ciao Ciao,
 

La Regazza Pazzesca

As I pull my laptop out from under my bed, dusty from months of abandonment and my refusal to even look at a computer after the hours of 6pm and certainly never on a weekend, I get the sudden urge to abandon my plan. Am I foolish? Who would ever care about anything I have to say? Do I really want to be that girl who thinks her blog is ‘special’ and insightful, when all she really does is brag about life experiences she has clearly never had, and boyfriends she has conjured up in her daydreams? The answer to all of the above is a resounding, heck. to.the.n.o…..


But I’ve done it anyways, I have finally jumped off the deep end of the social media cliff and accepted my generational calling as a hhhhhaaaaaaaa….gasp….another gasp…..blogger, or as I like to refer to it, a blogette. For months now my coworkers have been trying to convince me to join their ranks and claim my own little piece of e-real estate, and for months I have informed them that my life is not either a. nearly as interesting as theirs’ b. while they may have the sass and wit of a youthful and much better looking Chelsea Handler, I on the other hand can barely tell a knock knock joke without confusing myself, and c. I am already 100% dedicated to facebook as my only form of social media involvement, with the occasional Twitter cheat, I don’t think I could sacrifice my facebookage time.

With the recent move, or as I like to refer to it….desertion, of my boyfriend, Michael, to SF to start his much anticipated studies as a dental school student, I have been left in SacTown with nothing to cling to at night but Boo Boo and Grover (my much loved stuffed animals from baby-hood) and my hot pink bottle of pepper spray….you can never be too prepared when living in hippie-chic, bum-filled midtown. I hope it’s becoming clearer to you about why I have embarked down this foolish road…long distance boyfriend+ too much free time/abandonment of all senses=blog.

In addition to this desertion...i mean, recent move/huge change in my life, I have just passed up my one year anniversary of working and living in Sacramento. The one thing I will never gripe about is how lucky I am to work where I do and how thankful I am that my coworkers have become a quasi Sacramento family for me, but of course with any milestone it is hard not to reflect on the possibilities of what could have been.

While I’ve been blessed with a job right out of college that I absolutely love, sometimes it’s hard not to wonder what if?…..what if I quit my job and joined the traveling circus, after all if you catch me early enough in the morning, pre CHI and concealer, you may concur that I could easily be classified as ‘circus freak’….what if I had followed my dreams and become a Disney princess, specifically Belle, and didn’t have to wear my costume behind closed doors, but was free to prance down Main Street USA hand in hand with Mickey Mouse….what if I had pursued my childhood obsession with Dinosaurs and had become a Ross-from-FRIENDS-esque professor…with those life options clearly behind me, I guess there was nothing left for me to do but to blog.

And so I’ve come here, abandoned by my boyfriend and struggling with a quarterlife crisis. I warn you, I’m a lot to handle right now, just ask Michael, if this blog is really going to reflect my life, be prepared to enter a rollercoaster of insanity. But if you choose to accept me and all of my blogging deficiencies, I promise not to be that girl who thinks that just because she’s seen sex in the city she is qualified to give cute and perky relationship advice, or the chick who lives to make sure anyone who reads her posts is aware of how overwhelmingly fabulous she is. No, if you are interested in my blog I will promise you sensationalized random stories, emotional tirades, lots of rambling, and of course the obligatory craft/recipe/vacation photo op posting, after all this is my life in a blog and as far as I’m concerned it’s all va bene.

Ciao Ciao,