Teflon Pan

A while back on the post Sunny Day  I got a comment from a rep of Du Pont, the chemical company who invented Teflon.  I had discussed getting rid of my Teflon pans in order to find a different type of non-stick or just simply use my stainless steel, and they wanted me try one of their products.  

The company sent me a product called the Flip-It pan to review.  I was told in an e-mail that it isn't even publicly available.  Once I received the pan I noted that it had a plate in it with the American flag. 

It's upside down, I know.  :)

Now, yes, I am a military wife, but I should note that not only am I not the most patriotic person, but that the pattern made cooking a bit difficult, as I will further explain later.  I read the booklet that came with the pan and it said there were other plates for the pan, and the front of the booklet had a pic of a flip-it pan with a smiley face and the words Good Morning.  When I contacted the company to ask about these other plates I was told, " there aren't other "plates" available for this pan."  Okay, now I am a bit confused as to why it would say it then.

But on to the actual review.  I really, really wanted to like this pan.  I'm all about the cutesy food....I've been known to make pancakes for G with blueberries or chocolate chips for smiley faces.  And I was the one when my brothers were little making mickey mouse, snowmen, and initials with pancake batter.  So I thought, if this works, it would be a neat pan.  

It just failed to impress me completely.  I have seen other 2 sided pans that closed together, but this had a good half inch gap which when flipped, required to make a pancake, batter went everywhere, no matter how much or how little batter I used.  I've been considering getting a 2-sided pan for a while now, because I love to make things like pancakes and frittatas, and thought it might make the job easier.  Unfortunately, in this case, it simply made a mess of my kitchen.  I had pancake batter all over my stove, my burners, and my counter tops.  Because of the gap, pancakes batter (and I was using a very thick batter) slid everywhere when I went to turn it.  

The Gap.

A tiny part of the mess....

Overflowed, but the one side was done, so not much I could have done about it.

In the end, the pancake recipe I used was delicious (it was a new one, so I was thrilled when G loved them!).  But the pan kinda sucked.  As you can see in the pics, the pancakes browned quickly on one side, but were still too gooey on the other side to turn without it going everywhere.  

The company wanted me to review Teflon, however, not the pan.  Which in my opinion would have been simpler to do with a simple saute pan, but eh, it's their decision.  They wanted me to review it's "ease of use, ease of clean-up, taste of the pancakes, etc."  Well, teflon's ease of use is well known.  Things don't tend to stick and make a mess, so it's easy to cook things without them burning, and clean up is fairly simple.  And I've never noticed a difference in taste when using Teflon coated products.  

But my problem with Teflon has nothing to do with any of those things.  I am more concerned with safety, and the safety of my future family.  There have been a lot of concerns that Teflon causes cancer.  If you google "problems with teflon" you will inevitably stumble across article upon article about issues the EPA had with Teflon back in 2004.  I have been told that it's safe as long as there are no scratches on the pan, but we all know how easy it scratches.  That is why, in the original post, I was planning on getting rid of my pan.  

There are other non-stick alternatives out there.  Hard anodized aluminum is one option.  But to be honest, I've found that stainless steel works just fine for me and my family.  I use a little butter or olive oil (and a little goes a long way), and quickly saute up veggies.  Want to make scrambled eggs?  I simply heat up a pat of butter before pouring in the eggs.  And I use ORKA silicon spatulas (I will have to do a review of them another time) and even without using metal utensils things do fine.  How do I clean up stainless steel?  I constantly have a kettle on, so I just add a little bit of boiling water to the pan, let it sit and it cleans up nicely.  For those of you who don't have a kettle on constantly, add water to the cooled pan, put it on the burner and let it come to a boil.  Easy as pie.  

My biggest problem with stainless steel is when it gets starch build up from foods.  I simply take baking soda and scrub it.  Once again, not hard at all.  And all of my stainless steel is dishwasher safe and cleans up beautifully.  

I am not against teflon products, but until they get the all clear safety wise, I'm not willing to place my bets on a product that I don't think in the end is any easier to use than the old fashioned stainless steel and cast iron that I grew up with my grandmama using (and she still uses to this day!).  I want to thank Du Pont for sending the flip it pan, but unfortunately it turned out to be a bust.  

 

*EDIT*  G told me I should add that I don't have any problems per se with Teflon, because as mentioned, as far as I know, it's fine if it's not scratched.  But they sent me what he calls "a poorly designed novelty item" that really didn't do much for me.  A simple saute pan would have been best, since I would have been able to talk about cooking chicken with vegetables or whatnot without using oils, which non-stick is good for.  We tend to eat fairly healthy though, so an item that was for pancakes and omelets (we tend to do simple scrambled or poached) didn't really do much for us.

Interesting Facts

Well, my fantastic readers, I think it's that time.  The time to not just be silent, but to post a comment.  I know, I know, there are always worries.  What do I say?  Will I just say what everyone else already has?  Will I sound silly?  Does she even care?

Say whatever you like.  An interesting fact about yourself?  A question you have, something you want to know?  No, you won't sound silly.....it will totally make my day!  Which leads me to the most important part......I do care, I want to know about you!  One reader in particular who lives on another continent entirely (and not the one I was born on) and I have become friends because she piped up and I got to know how fantastic she is!

So, please, if you are a regular reader (and my site thingy tells me there are a lot of silent ones) or new here, leave a comment.  Tell me something about yourself, or how you found me.  What keeps you coming back?

My interesting fact?  I eat oranges in a way that it takes a good 15 minutes just to peel.  I literally peel all of the skin off and just eat the pulp.  Odd, but the skin bugs me.  

Oh, and another thing about fruit.... I do things the lazy way, and when I want a caramel apple, instead of melting the Milk Maids and dipping slices or what not, I take a bite of apple than a bite of a Milk Maid caramel and chomp away happy as a lark!

Tomato Season

Today for lunch I cooked some Wild Alaskan Salmon in the oven with a bit of sea salt and had steamed zucchini (courgettes) with it.  But our first course was this:

A yummy platter of ripe yellow and red tomatoes drizzled with basil marinated in olive oil.  Quick, healthy, and delicious!

Life Happenings

Lately G and I have been working out a bit.  Yesterday morning we went for a run on the treadmills because it was raining out.  And all this exercise has made us very hungry people.  So, I've turned to a version of the English breakfast.....tea, toast, eggs, mushrooms, and baked beans.  Mmmm!

Monday night G and I woke up and went to see Angels and Demons.  I have to say that the movie was fine, if you are not like me and have read the book a few times.  Some of the story was changed for length I am sure, but other points simply did not make sense.  For instance, the person made Pope in the end was not the same as the book, for no apparent reason.  But overall, I enjoyed it.  It had the ever yummy Tom Hanks looking better than he did in The Da Vinci Code, and Ewan McGregor.  Also had Stellan Starsgard, who is always a good actor to watch.  The lead woman was not as prominently featured in this film as she was in the book, but that's quite alright.  

Life is in an upheaval right now.  Unfortunately we're waiting on some decisions to be made about our future, but I will let everyone know once we've found out.  We're busy packing for the move and taking Sophie on long walks.  On the last one we had tea outside while Sophie got angry by the swans who were fighting nearby.  We also saw the cutest little sight in the world....

It's been very exciting because she has officially put two and two together to realize that getting in the car equals her getting to go somewhere, so no longer do we have to pick her up and push her in the car.  She gets in, and sticks her nose out to catch smells.  Cute as a button, eh?

Isn't her tongue hilarious? It's a good long one that she constantly is sticking out!

Blah

That's the sentiment of the weekend.  Blah.  We went to the Continental Market, which was lovely, but more plants and flowers than anything.  We stopped in to have escargot because it was National Escargot Day, but ended up canceling our order when I started to feel unwell.  

And then we went to browse at the store we bought G's jacket at, to discover that now the jackets are 25% off, so I have to e-mail the headquarters about it, since before we bought it we specifically asked if there was any sales coming up, but the sales assistant told us no, not until late fall, and that even if there were ones before then, the jacket was brand new and would not go on sale any earlier.  A week later, the sale started, literally a week.  So now, to say the least I'm annoyed.  And I hate having to deal with crap like this.

Tomorrow we might be seeing Angels and Demons, so I am whoa excited about that!  Has anyone seen it yet?  Do tell!

At The Crack Of Dawn

It was 4:50 this morning when G and I decided to step away from the Brit Biggest Loser and get all snazzily dressed up to go running.  Our normal walk around base is almost 3 miles (it used to be close to 4, but then we cut the elementary school out of our route), and today we decided to run/walk it.  We walked quite a bit, but ran more than I thought we would.  We would have done more running if it weren't for one quite annoying little fact:  my workout/yoga pants are a bit too big, and we could only make it about a block before they fell down past the modest point.  G thought it was funny, and it was, but more frustrating than anything.  I was freezing cold, in a tank top, my upper torso was red from the cold.  So all I wanted to do was run to warm up, but couldn't.  

I have to say I am quite proud that we did go running this morning.  It's been years since I just got up and went for a run, and it was surprising how fun it was.  No one was really out, so it was just the quiet of the morning with birds singing.  It took us a little over an hour to do our loop, and we went to the local coffee place to grab breakfast.  Yummy omelets, toast and coffee.  And then it was home to bed.  

Now it's 1:35, and we're heading out in a bit to pick up some crumpets and cream cheese, maybe some eggs.  I am determined to go running again this morning (but perhaps I should think about ordering some new pants), even if I hurt in muscles I previously didn't know I had.  On top of the running we also lifted some light weights, with me finally working on my triceps.  It's a good type of pain.

Oh, and tonight we went and saw Star Trek.  I will admit that I acted like a spoiled child and pouted and made it very clear that it was my idea of hell......until the movie started.  I was nearly crying within the first 10 minutes, and the rest of the movie was highly enjoyable.  It doesn't hurt that the main character is hella cute.  If you like Chris Pine, another great movie is Bottle Shock, which also stars Alan Rickman and Bill Pullman.  Fantastic movie about the California wine vineyards.  And based on a true story to boot!

Manners Missing

So, this week seems to be the week of rants.  I apologize ahead of time if my tone comes across as too snarky, but eh, that's life right now.

I had plans to go to tea with a friend today.  It was to welcome a new wife to the area, and so even though we are on nights, and normally I would be sleeping at 1 in the afternoon (imagine being asked to be somewhere at 1 in the morning on a normal day), I got all prettified to go out.  I didn't take a pic, but plan on wearing it out to the museum tomorrow since I was in the outfit less than 2 hours.  Why was I in it for so little you may ask?  Well let me share my day.

Because we are on nights, the night before I asked the friend if she could pick me up so that G could stay in bed.  No problem, she said.  I double checked the 1 p.m. time.  Still the same.  So I get prettified, and then I sit and watch the rest of Make Me A Supermodel because what else is there to do?  It's close to 1, but I know she tends to run a little behind, I've gotten used to that.  However, by 1:20, I assume she has had a blonde moment (these happen with her) and she forgot to pick me up.  I'm not offended, she's moving the same time we are, so we're all a little discombobulated.  No worries.  But G says that he'll leave a note on the door saying we went on to the tea room, and he'll go with me to wait in case she really is running this late.  We tried calling her home, she wasn't there.  And her cell was off.  

So we arrive at the tea room at 1:30, and no one is there.  I decide that I'm fuming, so I can either leave and not show up, or G and I can order and hope she shows up soon.  We order (I have amazing parsnip soup) and we drink our Earl Grey.  Garret comments that I have a very cold look on my face.  Good, I think, as I realize it's 1:45.  We finish up and leave at 2:20.  At this point we have just seen her vehicle drive past the tea room, and I make the quick decision that if I see her, I'm going to verbally berate her, so it's best for us to make a quick exit.  Not necessarily my most mature moment, perhaps I should have waited to talk it out, but with a new woman going to be with her, I thought it was best to wait for a better time.  Because as I told G, over an hour late is not late, it's ridiculously rude.  It says to the other people that you consider your time more valuable than anyone else's time .  And in this instance, me having gotten up after 2 hours of sleep and gotten all dressed up, well, I consider my time pretty damn valuable!

On the way home I tell Garret that hopefully she tried calling at some point and left a message apologizing for running so late.  Unfortunately, not the case.  Instead I get a snarky message about how she's at the front gate and I'm not answering, she doesn't know what's up with that and okay, bye.  I am literally frozen with shock.  We didn't leave the house until right before 1:30, didn't see her on the way out, so I am estimating the call didn't come in before 1:45.  Forty five minutes after we were supposed to be at the tea room!

Now I am left with the conundrum of how to deal with this.  I've never been stood up in my life, and she's apparently in the mind set that I was the rude one who didn't follow through with plans.  But honestly, she didn't even drive past the damn tea room until it was an hour and 20 minutes after she had told me we were supposed to meet there.  I tried calling her more than once, to no avail.  So now, I am pretty annoyed to put it nicely.  What on earth do I say to her?  Because I know what I want to say (basically implying her mother raised her very wrongly and she's presumptuous to think her time is more important than mine) will probably only begin a nice yelling match.  The only other thing I can think to do is give her the cold shoulder for a bit.  Any advice?  

A New Wind

When I recently had a discussion with a friend, I finally opened up and vented a little.  Then, being me, I apologized for venting.  But then he apologized because he said he felt bad that he never really asks if everything is okay with me.  That he always assumes my life is amazing.  That I am this great woman he knows who he envies because I just love life.  

It made me sit back and think, I do love life.  I love the sun shining on my face while we drive in the car.  I love snuggling under the covers and waiting for my husband to come home and snuggle in with me.  I love trying new things, and exploring new places.  I always say Life is Too Short for _____.  Because it is.  Life is temporary, transitional, and like a fire.  Right now I am a great big blaze, but eventually I'll begin to die down, so I'm not wasting this time.

So yes, lately, life has been challenging.  Lately my life has made me want to crawl into a dark spot and hide until the sun is shining more.  But that isn't me.  I face things.  I deal with them.  And I see the positive in every situation.  There is a possibility that Sophie is going to have to go home a couple months before we do, and I've been horribly sad and worried.  Worried because when I left for 2 weeks on the cruise she kinda quit eating.  But I know my family will spoil her rotten, and it will give G and me an opportunity to travel, even locally.  Because, before, we couldn't even stay overnight in London, because we needed to come home for Sophie.  So there really is an upside to everything.  A silver lining, if you will.  

Life is good, when you look for the good in it.  

Pet Peeves

Today's post is brought to you by the letter P!  Pet Peeves.  

I try really hard to be a nice, easy going person.  But when I am at a restaurant, I tend to expect a decent time.  I am not saying the waiter/waitress has to do a song and dance.  Hell, I even consider it a bonus when you are friendly and smile a lot.  I don't expect much.  But I do expect you to do fairly decent at your job.  

So, to the waitress we had tonight please:

For the love of God and all that is Holy, would you please just bring me water when my cup is empty?  And when my husband asks for you to bring me water with ice, please do so with more than 4-5 cubes in a glass of room temperature water.  They melted before I got back to the table.  Tracking you down should not feel like a jungle adventure, and I shouldn't have to loudly call out to get you to turn and stop at our table for one sec so I can ask for a menu.  In the end, the reason we left after drinks and chips and salsa was because the service was so bad I couldn't imagine trying to order the full meal.  Better luck next time.

And I know, life as a waitress is tough.  But when you have only a handful of tables it really isn't that hard.  I was nice the whole time, smiling, saying thank you.  I don't tend to display my annoyance outright until it's gotten to the point that I would need to ask for the manager, and I hate doing that.  But G and I went out for a quick snack  (the Portuguese place we get coffee is closed on Mondays) and we are fairly easy customers.  Hell, in England where hardly anyone tips because they aren't paid the crap wages like back in the US, we tend to tip.  Sometimes even tipping big enough to have to get an override because their stupid card reader thinks the number is wrong.  So please, put a smile on your face and check to see if my water needs a refill occasionally.  That's all I ask.  End of rant.

Our First Date Night

This is the Abbey we always go to.  Gorgeous, right?  And no, it's not a painting, it's a photo.  If you click on it, you can see how the trees look.  

So I have kept something very quiet here.  Mainly because G's mom reads this, and I try to not ruin her image of him.  But here it is.

Garret and I have a fight a few times a month over the same thing.  We've been having this fight literally our entire marriage.  You see, G has never, and I mean never, planned a date for us pretty much the entire time we've been together.  Okay, I take that back, he planned a dinner while I was in London during our engagement where he was going to re-propose, and it was wonderful, so I am not sure why he gets so flustered about it.  So we constantly have this fight, with me pointing out that it shows his lack of care because I've told him for 2 years how much it upsets me, he always promises to do better, and then he doesn't and the cycle continues.  Garret tells me he loves me at least 50 times a day (no joke) but I've told him it's starting to get hard to hear when he says it but keeps hurting me by not doing something as simple as planning a date.  

Now, G has never dated anyone other than me.  Not really.  He went out once with a girl while a holdover, but that was simple because they could only go to the mall basically.  So he gets slightly flustered trying to come up with a date.  I keep telling him to keep it simple, he keeps wanting to do some huge gesture.  But this weekend he finally did it.  He finally listened during a conversation, noted that I had mentioned that a certain pizza sounded good, and planned for us to go there this weekend, all on his own.  Because I know some of you are thinking that we seem to get out and about an awful lot, but it's always on me.  I am always the one who comes up with where we are gonna go, cause I love my husband, but he's kind of lazy.  Oh, and he tends to only want to do what I want to do, which drives me mad, because it should be give and take.  And yes, I know I'm crazy for sticking with him after 2 years of no planned dates, but I do love him so I held out the hope.  I wasn't disappointed.  

So he took me out to Strada for pizza.  I even brought my camera but forgot about it until after I was done with everything. But I had my favorite pizza which has Italian sausage (and it's the Italian link slices not ground up "Italian" sausage, they get most of their ingredients shipped in from Italy), baby artichokes, onions, capers, sun dried tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, and I drizzle chili oil on it.  To. Die. For.  We started with a salad with crispy pancetta, avocadoes, spinach leaves with a mustard dressing and parmesan for me and G has his fried polenta with creamy mushroom sauce.  For dessert I had an espresso, G got his "girly drink" cappuccino and we shared a tuillerie filled with vanilla bean marscapone cheese and fresh strawberries and blueberries with a mint leaf.  It was a new dessert item, and now knocks the pannacotta into second place.  

It was a pretty decent first date, I'm considering going out with him again.  Maybe, just maybe I'll give him a second shot.  And I figure he's like a great wine, he'll only get better with time and proper care.  I am looking forward to the next date he plans!

(Garret gave me a piggy back ride so I could reach the pink rose at the top of the pic.  I wanted to smell it, but it as part of the arbor and way too high.)

Oh, and on the last note, the other night at the wine bar Garret explains the whole thought process of why he said he loves me more than all the bricks in the yellow brick road.  I thought it was hilarious, but didn't share it because I try not to embarrass him.  He said he didn't care, he likes being mentioned, so here it is.  He thought to himself that he loves me more than all the sequins or whatever they are on Dorothy's red shoes (I should note that this was my favorite childhood movie, hence him thinking of it).  Then he thought that isn't very much, so what is there that there's a lot of?  Munchkins!  He loves me more than all the munchkins in Oz!  But then he decided that sounded weird, hence him saying the yellow brick road one instead.  Isn't he funny as hell?  Seriously, I have never been more amused then I am living with this man.  

And ironically this is what we saw on our way home from our date.  A sign maybe?  Somewhere over the rainbow my dreams really might come true.  

Two Bottles Later....

(Before we went out.  I tried doing something new with my hair, curling waves into parts of it to make it messier, and G graciously took a pic......he's so hard to talk into that, you know.)

So last night we got together with a friend at a wine bar.  We ordered a bottle of a French red (I'm in bed, the bottle is downstairs, so I don't remember the type, but the vineyard is Chateauneuf du Pape).  Amusement ensued as I caught Nancy staring off behind me as I was chatting, and I finally asked what was up.  She kinda made a gesture so I casually turned and there was this couple on one of the couches completely like making out.  Not hard core making out like teenagers, mind you, but little nibbles, eyes closed, hand grazing the throat making out.  The kind that makes you think any second they'll be naked.  I should have taken a pic.  I leaned over, grabbed G, and considered competing, if we had been alone.  

(This is my gorgeous engagement ring that I like to wear on my right hand a lot, I just explain that it's more European, because that seems to annoy people, but in truth, my hands get cold, my fingers get small, and the rings start rotating around like crazy so I separate them like a mom with kids smacking each other in the back seat.)

(Best. Husband. Ever.  He lets me take pics, blinding him with the flash while he drives. And he doesn't kill us in the process.  My hero.)

( I might have been cracking myself up with crazy dance moves.  It happens.)

But the main interest for me at the bar (other than the excellent company) was this painting that hung right in front of us.  I decided it was 4 people, at first I thought it was 4 women, but then decided it was 2 men, 2 women alternating.  The last lady has a flower in her hair, but the first man?  Oh God he creeped me out the more I drank!  Notice the Lord of the Rings-esque cyclops eye.  In the end I was fairly convinced it was staring me down.  

After we left there we walked back, in the rain, to Nancy's apartment where we continued to get giggly.  We danced to Flo-rida's "Low,"  drank a bottle of blackberry wine, cooked steaks and mushroom pasta, and overall had a good time.  At one point we women were changed into leather renaissance-fayre tops.  I am pretty sure G was considering getting me one because I looked hot.  Then it was late, she had a white water rafting trip today and we're on nights, but were exhausted and needed to get home to our own bed.  Now I'm lying here really wishing I had an IV to hydrate, because I'm thirsty as all get out.  Serves me right.

*Update* I am feeling quite a bit better.  Ate some yummy junk food, finished the season of Grey's Anatomy, and oh my God!  Seriously, I think G was getting annoyed because I kept pausing it to shout things like "Holy Shit, it's George!" right before you see him join up, and I was there gasping, covering my mouth right before Meredith started freaking out about John Doe.  I keep telling myself it's just a t.v. drama, but I love the characters, so it's hard.  It makes my blood pressure skyrocket.  

On another note, I think we might be seeing Star Trek tonight if my headache goes away.  I should point out that I have absolutely no interest in seeing this movie, and G even said if I didn't want to go, we didn't have to go.  But he wants to.  Bad.  So I'm being the good wife and going.  Who knows?  Maybe it'll be like the date I took my daddy on a few years ago to see Star Wars Episode Whatever and I'll not dis-like it.  Keeping my fingers crossed.  But let this be a lesson to all of you out there, if you marry a nerd, you will have to sometimes do nerd things.

Update on Staring Contest

I totally won today's round.  Promptly after I finished the last post and I pulled the Bridget Jones move, my husband woke up and tried to take me to coffee.  Unfortunately for us, traffic was at a crawl, so we ended up just grabbing Indian food and having floater coffees to finish.  Yumminess ensued. 

Now we're getting ready (trying desperately to give my heavy hair some body) to go meet a friend for a glass of wine at a little wine bar/restaurant in Bury.  I am standing in the bathroom fixing my eyeliner when G and I get into our usual "I love you more" debate.  His response?  "I love you more than all the bricks in the yellow brick road."  He's so cute I almost want to start singing The Lollipop Guild song.  But I am not ready to be welcomed to munchkin land!

And that folks, is my life.  Seriously, it would be uber cute if this was random, but it's such a normal occurrence for G to say something like that, so I usually don't remember it long enough to blog it.  But tonight I was prepared!

Staring Contest

I am preparing to pull a Bridget Jones and stare at G while he sleeps.  Why?  Because I cannot convince myself that he needs more than 4 hours of sleep right now when it's so beautiful out and I want coffee.  Hmm.  

I know I'm a bad wife, but I am trying to justify it to myself by saying to myself that he can nap later while I clean.  Doesn't that make me sound like a better wife?  If will never happen, but eh.

Okay, I am commencing Project Stare.  I will post later on my results.

Shallow Break

Well, lately it's been a lot of deeper posts, and while it's been refreshing to finally get back to where I want to be as a blogger, I need a break.  I need time to breathe and just relax, because the past few weeks have been hell and even writing the story of G and me took way too much energy. 

So what have I been focusing on?  Glad you should ask.  Yesterday G and I took Princess Sophie (as she is lovingly called when she's being a good puppy) to the park in Thetford.  It's beautiful, with plenty of trees, a river with a large bridge over it, and plenty of water fowl.  Oh yes, they have ducks, but they also have geese and swans.  Swans that are the size of Sophie and could so kick her ass (and almost did, with one rearing back, flapping it's wings and hissing like a tomcat).  We walked around the town center, Sophie got to have us avoid a lot of other dogs, including a yappy little one who Sophie didn't even notice until the pipsqueak began a verbal attack on her character and Sophie barked back loudly once.  

Then it was off for coffee where we took in the beautiful sunshine and Sophie got to try the foam from my latte.  She loved it and sat close staring me down.  She also got to meet a family of goats while in the local walking trail/park area who watched her through the fence bleating at her.  Garret and I dropped the princess off at home and headed to Cambridge for Chili's where we sat and began putting together a game plan.  

Today was a lazy day.  We did coffee again.  It's kind of nice because the gentleman who works the place now begins making our coffees as soon as he sees us.  Which is unfortunate since at some point I am going to want something other than a latte, but for now it works, and his "see you tomorrow" puts a smile on my face.  We don't speak much of the same language, but we make small talk, and I enjoy these daily breaks.

But let's get down to business.  Most of you won't care, but bah, it's my blog, so I get to ramble about pointless crap shows.  First up is the Real Housewives of New York Reunion Part 1 and all I can say is whoa!  Who would have guessed at the beginning of the season that I would be on Team Luann.....I still love Jill and Bethenny, but damn, all the women are kinda crazy and bitchy now, but any woman whose husband asks for a divorce after 16 years of marriage in an e-mail and can still try and remain strong and work it out for her kids gets my vote.  Even if normally she makes me want to pull all my etiquette books off the shelf and chuck them at her.

Next we have Criminal Minds, which wasn't that damn exciting.  I've been disappointed with this season, finding it a tad boring and flat.  But next week my favorite character is gonna get hit with something anthrax-like, and he simply cannot die.  The actor is on my list of celebrities I hope my husband forgives me for if I ever meet them in person.  He's nerdy hot.

My next show of the day was Gossip Girl.  My poor husband.  He deals with my obsession with cheering on Chuck like no other.  And this week was a fun little prom episode.  Can I just say that I really want to find out the designer of Blair's dress.  It was stunningly fabulous.  It managed to be both show-stopping and demure.  But the best part was Chuck.  Because for the love of God I need the two of them to get it together.  It's sad to see a man so in love and trying to hide it because he thinks it's best for her.  Seriously.  And I am pretty sure if they don't Chuck is going to be screwed up for the rest of his life.  Little boy needs some love.

And finally there is Castle.  If you don't watch it, you should.  At first I thought there was no way in hell it would make it to a second season (and I am still waiting to hear if it will) because it was slightly cheesy.  But oh. my. God.  It's about a writer who gets involved with cases, and the whole cast is fantastic.  It's on ABC, and the season finale just aired, but I am sure they will air re-runs and the DVD set comes out this summer.  Get it, watch it, love it.  The season finale ended with Castle telling Detective Beckett he's found out something about her mother's murder (which happened a long time ago, and apparently the M.E. and detectives missed something then).  He's serious, and he's never serious.  In fact he's a egotistical ass, but that's why you will love him.  That and his quirky father moments with his 15 year old daughter (who is my second favorite character for the record).  

Okay, now that I've yapped about t.v. enough that most of you stopped reading a while back I will wrap this up.  Garret will be home in half an hour to do his work out, and I am thinking I might work out with him (although my push up count is embarrassing comparatively).  Or maybe I will just continue trying to catch up with Grey's Anatomy.  I know it's kinda sad, but we've switched to nights, so don't judge me.  

And yes, I've become that woman who talks about her dog like she's her child.  Because she is.  Deal with it.  I'll still talk about her that way once we have actual children.  We've already begun asking Sophie if she would like a little brother or a little sister.  Her answer, for the record, is whichever let's her lick their toes and doesn't pull her tail too hard.  Smart dog.

Also, if you have any questions, please e-mail me or comment.  If you've asked a question before and I didn't give enough info, please let me know.  I try, but if you want more information about anything, I will give it my best shot.  And if you know of any amazing blogs of people who live in the D.C. Baltimore are please let me know!  

Part 3

Once I had decided to give G a try, we had months to go.  We agreed to date in May, but he wouldn't be home until July.  So we spent upwards of 8 hours a day on the phone.  I was working 2 jobs, and so when we had time to talk we did.  (I was up in my college town during the summer, when most of my friends were gone, so I didn't have an overly full schedule).  And the talking was great.  It allowed us to get excited to finally see each other after 7 months since our last dinner.  

Then the 2 worst hands of my life decided they wanted to be dealt back in.  And as much as I love G now, it was different then, I was conflicted.  I knew I couldn't back out on G, but I wasn't sure how to completely cut off the others.  In the end one helped make the decision.  He told me he had always thought the other guy was horrible, and if he couldn't have me (he couldn't) then his vote was for Garret, who seemed like the only decent guy in my life.  So I made the choice to give G a full and fair shot.  

That summer we wrote letters.  Some of them (particularly from me) very long.  One I believe was 16 pages.  Yes, we're both into letter writing, but that particular one had a lot to say.  Mainly that I was never able to see him for the fantastic guy he was before because he loved me so much it scared me.  I didn't really love myself, so someone seeing me, the real me, and still loving me that much was terrifying and I pushed him away.  But it was our time finally.  So I did the cutesy things like send cookies.  I called him after tests to see how he did.  I loved waking up to a call from him.  Hell, I could even take hearing the other guys rib him about how he was going to go home and get laid, something we still hadn't even discussed at the time.  

Then it was time for graduation and his mom and sister drove down for it.  The anxious waiting part started.  Overnight on the drive home they stayed in a hotel and he and I were chatting, and he decided that there would be no stopping except to eat and use the restroom the next day because he was coming home to me.  They managed to get home early, but I was working that night so I was bummed until my supervisor let me go home early.  I jumped in the car, ran home to change and pack a bag and grab my dog, and off I drove the 2 hours home.  Our first date wasn't scheduled until that weekend, but that night was the night I really knew.  That all those months of talking to him thinking he was it were right.  

And what was so magical?  Well, we had our first kiss outside of the laundromat (my down comforter needed to be washed so we went there and played cards).  Afterwards we went to the new Wal-Mart Supercenter in town (exciting I know).  We were going to drive out to the countryside and hang out under the stars, and I decided that what we needed was ice cream to eat.  So we were walking down an aisle and I grabbed his hand and we took off running, so full of energy from the thrill of finally being together.  We grabbed mint chocolate chip and some plastic spoons, and we drove off into the night.  That night we talked and laughed.  We laid on a blanket on a gravel road out by his Uncle's place under the stars.  Garret is into astronomy so he could point out the different stars.  And as we laid there he looked down at me and said simply "You're beautiful."  Lots of kissing ensued, I must admit.  

New love is always exciting.  You always have those butterflies, those glances at one another.  The constant urges to just connect physically, a held hand, a leg touching.  But this, this was different.  This was re-discovering each other in a different way.  This was seeing a person in a completely different light than I had for over 4 years.  

Our first official date was just dinner at the Olive Garden.  Simple food, and only the host and the waiter flirted with me.  I think G was becoming a bit annoyed since I was the one asked anything, and he was kind of ignored.  Funny, normally I would have been flattered but I just found it amusing.  After dinner we went back home, loaded up my car and drove the 2 hours up to my apartment for a week together.  Time for just the two of us.  

I won't go into too many details of that week.  It was very personal, and mainly we holed ourselves up in the place and just existed together.  We did do some shopping, and a movie, and dinner out.  We even made time to meet up with my best friend for coffee.  But mainly we did a lot of lying around, reading poetry aloud to each other.  Crying sometimes, holding each other.  Sometimes I laugh because it sounds like something out of a movie, and it was.  We re-learned about one another and ourselves.  He told me he wanted to go to the store with me when I had forgotten something because he "just liked being seen with" me.  And I tried (only half kidding) to just get him to elope with me at the courthouse.  But he told me he couldn't do that, he knew what a real wedding meant to me, and he planned on giving it to me.  There was dancing in the middle of the night in a candlelit living room.  There were long talks about the future.  But mostly there was just being together.  

Then it was home to reality.  It was home to me feeling bad that he preferred me to seeing his family, home to making sure he spent plenty of time with them.  Home to sneaking kisses out of sight of everyone.  At one point we made plans to go camping and refused to cancel them even when there were thunderstorm warnings.  And we stayed bravely, sweating to death from the humidity, with me scared to death when it turned out to be the worst storm I've ever experienced. 

And we fought, because that's what new lovers do.  They quarrel.  They fight to be heard, to be seen.  One night he stayed at my parents house with me overnight.  My parents have a strict no sex in their house unless you are married rule, which I always saw as a respect issue.  So all night we just whispered promises of the future and fell asleep on the floor together, curled up.  Then it was time for him to get ready to head off to England.  We were both scared, wondering if things would change.  We had talked about me coming over for Christmas (which I did).  We had planned to get engaged then.  But G was a bit overeager. 

I've already told the tale of our engagement.  How he dropped to one knee at twilight under the stars.  About how I told him "thank you for loving me." About how he responded with "thank you for finally seeing me."  Did I mention there was dancing to no music?  There was also, above all else, hope.  And that night God sighed, content that we had both finally seen what we should have all along.

It does seem like such a fairytale or a script from a film when looking back now.  And it isn't like that for everyone.  But it is still like that for us.  We still dance in the kitchen to old songs by Dinah Washington.  We still love lying out under the stars, only now it's by a fire with a glass of wine.  We still have people who tell us they want what they have.  But remember, this all happened slowly.  It was never a whirlwind romance, because although things moved quickly once we fell in love, it took years slowly building up the best hand.  The trust, the communication, the ability to say I'm sorry and I forgive you.  What we have is a friendship on fire.  A deep burning love, but the embers are respect and faith.  Faith that we were meant for one another long before my favorite star Vega appeared in the sky.  A faith that caused us to tweak the traditional wedding vows to say not "til death do us part" but instead "into eternity."

G, I love you.  Completely and Forever.

Playing Cards Part 2

While I was away at college, G was back home attending community college and working at the library.  We talked all the time.  For that matter his mother and I talked all the time too, since sometimes when I would call his house he wasn't home, so she and I would chit chat.  Is it any surprise that these days she and I can sit on the phone and talk for over an hour and it's enjoyable?  Like I said, G is the best hand I've ever had, and it's not just because he's so great, I won with a full house when I won with him!

I joined a sorority and got busy with homecoming floats and going out to drink with friends.  And Garret was my constant friend.  No matter what time of day, if I needed to talk he was there to listen.  This meant the boy would leave his cell phone on and wake up to talk to me at 3 a.m. when I called, drunk, whiny, and hurtful.  I say hurtful because I would call and tell him about making out with this guy or that guy.  I was still a virgin, and I think at the time he was grateful that making out was the worst of it.  But it cut him, and he would get exasperated with me, beg me to just quit going out all the time, to stop making out with a bunch of boys.  Occasionally he would mention it to his sister, but never mentioned it bothered him because to quote Garret, he "never wanted her to know how badly he wanted" me.  Which is amusing since everyone knew, his mother knew, his sister knew, they just kept mum.

Then we slowly stopped talking.  It became awkward and we let the friendship slip away to the occasional chatting when I would run to the library back home.  I would walk in and notice G out of the corner of my eye at the desk, but pretend I hadn't, trying to decide if I wanted to talk to him or not.  But apparently those were the best days for him there.  A co-worker of his whom we both knew told my mother when it was announced we were getting married that she always knew he had a thing for me, because when I would walk in his face would light up and his eyes would follow me around the library.  So much for him thinking he was doing good hiding it!

Eventually I began playing a bad hand.  One of those hands in poker where you should just fold, quit trying to fool yourself... holding out the hope that the cards on the table will make it a better hand.  I was dating this jerk of a guy who I later can see I was trying to save, but he didn't want saving.  One night, having come back from the bar I called Garret.  I told him I was sad we weren't friends any longer, that we should hang out sometime.  I don't know what happened that night, but we ended up making plans for me to come home the next day and go see a movie.  I even wrote it in my refrigerator so I wouldn't forget.  Imagine my surprise the next day when the previous night's decisions were mildly fuzzy (from the drinking, but also because it was dawn by the time we quit talking and I was damn tired) and I was on the phone with my mother telling her I was on my way home.  When I explained why and said that I didn't really want to come home, she said I had to or it would make me suck.  Eh. So I went home and caught a movie with Garret, only I couldn't stop talking about the jerk.  I was doing it because I didn't want G to get any ideas.  

I should mention that ever since Garret and I went to prom my family was constantly trying to convince me to marry him.  Constantly.  Every time my grandmama and I got together she would tell me how Garret was the guy who would give me the moon on a silver platter, who would do anything for me.  She would always ask why I wouldn't give him a shot and for years I would just say because we're just friends, that's it.  That last year before we began dating I finally told her it was because I wasn't attracted to Garret, he wasn't my type and to drop it.  And I went off on my mother in Applebee's (where she had begun telling the manager we knew all about G and how he was in the military and blah blah blabbity blah) stating that no, I was never going to marry him and that I wished after almost 4 years she would just get over it.  Now, they like to laugh.  Now, nearly every time I am on the phone with my grandmama she says, "I picked a good one didn't I?" She likes reminding me she saw my husband for the great man he is before I did!

But moving on, this is taking a bit longer than I had planned.  My last year at college could have ruined G and I.  I knew he was joining the Air Force but was shocked when he left that summer.  I began dating what could possibly be called the absolute worst hand so far in the game of my life.  Let's just say I didn't know someone else was holding the exact same cards as me.  Cards are tricky that way.  Ann, my MIL, e-mailed me an update on G saying that he was having some tests run, but they think he would be alright.  I freaked the hell out!  Turns out G had some issues at basic training where his legs would swell up, a lot, and they never did figure out why.  Finally, G was allowed to write letters home, and I was one of the lucky recipients.  I remember carrying it from my apartment to my late afternoon Special Education For Elem. Ed. class, waiting to read it until I sat down.  I was so proud of him for doing the one thing he had been wanting to do for years.  He had joined the military, and whether I had originally thought he was a moron for wanting to or not, I was insanely proud.  

That's when we began talking again, once he got his phone back after basic training.  I would write him.  And he was a hold over because of the medical things, so we talked on the phone a lot.  He got majorly depressed being there, and I was the light for him, the one who he looked forward to talking to.  Then came the phone call that looking back jump started us.  He told me he was going out on a date that week.  That he had asked a girl out, who ironically had the same name as me spelled differently, but that he hadn't known until asking her out because they all used last names.  I think God was laughing hysterically with tears rolling down His face at his little joke.  I went absolutely parental on G.  See, G was still a virgin ( I sadly was not, so I might have been a tad bit hypocritical).  I asked if he was planning on sleeping with her, because I wasn't stupid, I knew people got a little stir crazy when away at basic training.  He said that the other guys thought he should, but that no, he probably wouldn't.  I went off on him about how he was a freaking virgin and that he was not, I repeat not, going to have sex with someone he barely knew much less cared about.  I even hit a low point and told him that if he did I was telling his mother.  I know, not my shining moment.  G says that that conversation made him wonder what was going through my head to get me so upset, but he had convinced himself he was over me, so he pushed that thought away.

It took me seeing/hearing about G with another girl to get me worked up, but I still didn't want to date him.  But we began talking often on the phone.  There were times I would let it roll to voicemail when I saw it was him because I was beginning to worry I was going to lead him on again.  Then I finally folded on the bad hand, and it was time for my friends wedding.  E and D had been best friends.  It took a while for E to see what a great guy D was, he was in love with her the entire time.  They've been married for 3 years now and have an adorable 2 year old.  I was driving back from picking out an outfit for their wedding when it hit me hard as a semi.  This whole time I had been praying for God to show me the guy He had made for me, and I always got the response he's already here.  I mistakenly always thought it was the guy I was with.  But I was blind, and then I finally could see.  It was Garret.  The one constant good thing in my life.  But knowing and doing something about it are a bit different.

I waited until after the wedding.  I talked to E about it.  And finally I texted Garret some cryptic message, and eventually asked if he wanted to give it a shot when he came home from tech school.  You would think that's where the real story ends, that we got together and eventually got married.  But that phone call was only the beginning.  It's hard to have enough trust that you are holding a winning hand, and I almost folded. 

Playing Cards

Life is unfair.  It just is.  That's a lesson you begin learning early, for most people.  Sometimes bad things happen to good people, and the bad guys win.  The best you can do is look at the cards you're dealt, and play the game.  Sometimes you have to bluff, pretend things are fine, or hide when things are great.  Sometimes you get lucky.  And sometimes you learn to count the cards, give yourself a minor edge.  But in the end, life is a game of cards, you win sometimes, you lose other times.  But you play the cards you're dealt. 

My biggest win of my lifetime so far is my husband.  And I almost, almost didn't see what a great hand he was.  I mentioned once that I would tell our story, and now, with my stress level at high, and looking back on all the hands that sucked, or the times I should have folded, it's time to tell about the greatest turn of hand.

When I was 13 my parents moved from the city to a small town.  I say they moved, because I wanted nothing to do with it.  I cried for months, literally.  So, I didn't notice people.  I didn't notice Garret.  But boy, God must have been smiling that day.  He took a lonely boy and a sad girl and let them meet for the first time.  I don't remember it, but Garret can tell you in detail about noticing me, seeing me and falling for me.  He can tell you that I sat one row over.  He can tell you he tried talking to me (although I am sure it was simply hello, he's kinda shy like that).  Like I said, God must have been smiling, amused that we were finally meeting, knowing the journey we would go on together.  

I noticed G the next year, freshmen English, Mr.Holst's class.  This time, it's G who doesn't really remember.  He sat 2 seats ahead of me, and I remember noticing how quiet he was.  I didn't notice him much past that.  And for most of the rest of our high school education we didn't see each other or interact very much.  We had some similar friends, our groups overlapped.  Garret was a band geek, and I did theatre and choir.  Our groups interacted, but we didn't.  Senior year, we did Science Knowledge Bowl together.  I was taking college Biology and got talked into it by my professor.  These were the days when I still preferred to hide my intelligence, so if it weren't for Mrs. Welch I would have never done it.  We practiced, and then did the tournament.  And still, God must have been toe tapping, waiting for the two of us to wake up, because although we both knew the other was involved, there was still limited interaction.  

Then, it was the last semester.  I had decided that I was not going to senior prom.  It had only been a year since the end of a major relationship, a very bad hand, and although a year now seems so long, then it was still painful, I didn't really like or trust guys, and I decided I wasn't going.  But a couple friends decided otherwise.  One was like the inner part of a penn diagram---band geek and choir person.  She told me that Garret didn't have a date, and needed one, and asked if I would consider going with him.  Then another friend told him that I didn't have a date yet, and he should go with me.  Without either of us talking, it was agreed we would go together.  He was supposed to call me, but I had my own line, my own answering machine, and I never heard from him.  So during a pep rally in the gym I walked up to him and went off.  And he was pretty pissed himself.  Turns out he believed he had left multiple messages and that I had never called him back.  It was finally decided that apparently he didn't know when to start talking on an answering machine. 

But what was decided was that we would hang out enough to get to know each other before prom.  So we went out.  A lot.  Movies, dinner, time at Barnes and Noble perusing the books we both loved.  Our first get together was on St. Patrick's Day.  I remember because I pinched him for not wearing any green, and when he went to pinch me back I said I was wearing green, just not any clothing he could see.  I imagine he turned bright red.  I was lying.  Oh well.

Prom was a mess.  He was nervous, I was disinterested in him as more than a friend, and he was clearly smitten.  We did dinner with a big group of friends, he paid for everything, years later admitting it made it feel more like a date for him.  He always was the one holding on to the hope.  Then pictures and finally dancing.  It's only now G can actually slightly dance.  Then, all he would do was slow dance, so on the fast ones I danced with girlfriends and other guys.  He was a bit jealous.  And then at after prom he went off with the other people we were with to do sumo wrestling and the velcro wall.  I sat down and played a lot of black jack.  The cards again, I know.  I now can admit I was trying to be a bitch.  I didn't want him getting the wrong idea.  In the end, he left early, and I went home with my mother.  

(it's a pic of a pic, not the best quality, but one of the last pics in our wedding album)

The rest of the school year and summer we hung out a lot.  Enough that close friends thought we were dating.  We weren't and I cleared that up real quick.  But after a while, I considered it.  He and I have always been able to talk to each other in way that we can't with anyone else.  No pretenses, no false modesty, and no holding back.  But things began to crumble after a night at Olive Garden, where I told him that if he ate a black olive from the salad (a food item he still is not a huge fan of) then I would kiss him.  He ate it, but forgot about the deal.  So when he was dropping me off at home, I leaned over and kissed him.  And he just sat there, not moving, stunned.  I remember saying something grandiose like there, he now had some experience before college.  Because other than a few games of spin the bottle when he was younger, I was his first real kiss.  I remember marching inside and declaring I didn't like it, not in that way.  

Before I went away to college G and I were supposed to do one last dinner and movie.  But things were noticeably different.  Garret was noticeably in love with me.  So I e-mailed him telling him that I got the feeling he wanted to be more, but that I didn't, and if it was going to be weird then we would just skip the dinner and movie.  Garret e-mailed me back saying he had liked me at one time, but didn't anymore.  Dinner was still on.  

It wasn't until 2 or 3 weeks later, when I was at college that he e-mailed me to tell me he had lied.  That he was in love with me.  That he was afraid that if he had admitted it, we wouldn't go out that last time.  I was so mad, I didn't speak to him, I didn't respond for over 2 weeks.  And let me just say, he was pissed and I got a not so e-mail where he called me a bitch and basically told me I was rude not to respond, to get over myself.  In the end, we remained friends.  But that's really only the beginning of our story.  Our hands had been dealt, but no decisions about how we would play it had been made.