InstaHipster

Hey so this one time yesterday I got an iPhone.

I KNOW. Finally. In fact, one of the first texts I received upon getting the iPhone welcomed me to the 21st century. A-hem.

I am still a bit overwhelmed by... everything, including the garganuanly huge number of apps currently available. (Speaking of-- do you have a favorite? I want to know!)

A great way to avoid getting overwhelmed in said app store is to pretend apps don't exist, and instead spend all available time playing with Instagram. Somebody get me an ironic scarf and some thick rimmed glasses- I am now one step closer to being a hipster.

You didn't really want anything more out of this blog than to watch me document mundane details of my evening, did you? Okay, good. Because it is now time for INSTAGRAMANIA!!!

Driving home from work. (I was into driving when it was still underground.)


My grandparents' house is too mainstream for me now:

Grandma made Tostados for dinner! You've probably never heard of it.

Me, five minutes ago, wondering when my Hipster Membership Card will arrive.

Okay, I am SO over blogging.

HORROR: Sad/Lonely Microwave Dinners

You know what is really, really sad? Seeing a character in a TV or a movie eating A MICROWAVE DINNER! ALONE. Those poor, poor people. They probably don’t have any friends, and if it’s a woman, then SHE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A BOYFRIEND, Y'ALL!

It’s a trick they used on Lost during one of John Locke’s flashbacks.

"Locke is depressed. We know this because he is eating alone in a darkened one-room apartment IN FRONT OF THE TELEVISION. What could drive a man to such extremes? Obviously he is seconds away from doing himself in."
(Television Without Pity on "Lost," The Man from Tallahassee)

It was even more effectively used on Alias to show how lonely Sydney is.

"After the commercial, we join Syd and her dinner: a beer and a microwaved plate of pasta...and more pasta.... Like, is this supposed to indicate just how sad Syd is without Vaughn? She's so sad that she's reduced to eating big plates of microwaved pasta of which Dr. Atkins would not approve?"
(TWoP on "Alias," After Six)

Sad but oh so true.

While I was Googling a few things on this topic, I came across a stock image titled “A lonely man praying over a TV dinner at Christmas.” And I don’t really know what’s wrong with me, but that has got to be the FUNNIEST sentence I have ever read in the history of ever. Here’s the picture.

(And now I can't stop laughing.)

Can we all just agree that microwaveable meals are not, in fact, a sign that someone is horribly depressed, lonely and pining for true love, or about to jump off a bridge? I mean really. Sometimes (read: ALL OF THE TIME ALWAYS AND FOREVER PLEASE AND THANK YOU) a frozen dinner is just a frozen dinner. Y'all, it's just practical! Also: cheap. It's easy to make, easy to eat, and you quickly can get back to your regularly scheduled program of watching "Friday Night Lights" or reading Entertainment Weekly or maybe even writing a blog entry.

That, or crying alone in the dark.

In closing:

"Bless this highly nutritious microwavable macaroni and cheese dinner and the people who sold it on sale. Amen." –Kevin McAllister

Day 3 in AZ

I just got a flyer for a "Valentine Date Night" taking place this Monday.

At Chick-fil-A.

But it's not just an ORDINARY night at Chick-fil-A. Oh, no, not but at ALL. The subhead of this wondrous date night is "Special Candlelight Dinner." Because nothing quite says romance like an evening of waffle fries and Chick-fil-A sauce.

Ladies.

***

My sister would be the first to admit that she is not always terribly coordinated, and probably more than a little bit accident prone. It's good to be reminded of that fact, as I was on my first evening in Arizona. First, she burned her hand not once but TWICE on the pan that she cooked our (DELICIOUS) stuffed pork chops in. It's a good thing there was a doctor nearby.

THEN we were all watching "Friday Night Lights" later that evening. Ginger popped up to run change the thermostat, and just as she rounded the corner... WHAM. I look up and she's on the floor, laughing, having just wiped out on the tile. I start laughing too, of course (Umm, hi. I'm a Morby) and David, who couldn't see her from where he was sitting, asked in the most resigned-sounding fashion, "Did she just fall?"

Yes, David. Yes she did.

***

Last night we got to go enjoy some Cuban food at Havanah Cafe with the Amaros, and it was a blast! Like I told Ginger, I don't know what I ate, but it was good! Our conversation about the food was particularly entertaining, as D, G, and I split a few sampler plates with quite a variety of food. "Did you try one of the round squishy things?" "Yeah, those were good! My favorite are the breaded beef and... something... things." "Yep. Almost as tasty as the banana-y stuff on the end there. Did you dip it in the sauce?"

The Amaro kids, Violet and Daniel, were also quite the source of entertainment, both trying their hardest to make us want to take them home with us, because OHMYGOSHSOCUTESOCUTE. Daniel, almost 4 and going by the name "Astroboy" for the evening, at one point excused himself from the table. "Mommy," he said seriously as he stood up, "I'm going potty with Daddy. Please keep my food safe."

***

I've been hearing about the heaven-sent food at Pizzeria Bianco for years, but never had an opportunity to try it out. Well tomorrow night. Is the night.

The plan is for us to get in line at about 4:00 in the afternoon to get a table for dinner. Yes, it is that hard to get into, that packed, and that WORTH IT! As Wikipedia says, "Pizzeria Bianco has been rated as the best pizza in the US by Bon Appétit, the New York Times, Vogue, and Rachel Ray, and has also been recognized by Martha Stewart, Oprah, GQ, Gourmet and was named to GAYOT.com's list of the Top 10 Pizza Restaurants in the U.S."

I'll try to save you a piece.

Ladies.

Turkey a la King

I was talking to my mom today about our plans for Turkey Day this Thursday, or should I say, lack of plans for Turkey day. We are having one set of grandparents over for the main meal at 1:00pm, and then the other set is stopping by on their way back home to East Texas. That grandma was very concerned that she would be disrupting our afternoon plans.

The only common denominator about Thanksgiving in our house regarding "plans" tended to be getting dressed up to eat. I'm pretty sure the time changes, the relatives change, and what we do during the day changes as well. Some years we've gone to see a movie, one year we were on a cruise, football is generally on, and we sit at the table long enough for Grandma Ann to force feed a fifth course of food into my dad.

I always watch those crescent roll commercials with the New England family in their sweaters as they joyously pass the rolls and watch as Father Dear carves the turkey. I've never once seen a whole turkey at our table. We're buffet people. The dishes of food do not end up on the table until Grandma Ann is lamenting once again that no one has eaten anything - crescent rolls aside. I asked last year if we could have the turkey on the table. The response, "Why?" The turkey did not make it to the table except in slices on our plates.

What was I saying? Ah yes, tradition is going out the window this year. That in itself is not that odd since our traditional food does not seem to make it on anyone else's table. The influences of my dad's family were seen on his mothers table with German Home-made noodles (not sure what makes them German except that my German great-grandmother made them), rolls, turkey and wet dressing, cranberry mold from the can chocolate pie, key lime pie, and pecan pie. The other grandparent's, table (mom's family) held turkey with dry and wet dressing, white rice, sweet potato casserole, cranberry relish, asparagus, sometimes that interesting mixture of fruit and whipped cream or something like that (something my siblings and I would never eat), and some other things I can't remember, (did I say rolls? we like bread) and then coffee, and maybe pecan and pumpkin pie and ice cream. No table was complete without that great American condiment, ketchup. My brother, sister, and I have have all put ketchup on our turkey at some point and come to the conclusion that (drum roll)...we're not big turkey fans.

So this year? Fillet Mignon, mashed potatoes (who would have thought?), some form of bread, some form of vegetables, and we are currently debating the desert. Whatever the case, I'm thankful for my family and our own varied form of random traditions...that for at least just this one time, do not include turkey.

"The heavenly aroma still hung in the house. But it was gone, all gone! No turkey! No turkey sandwiches! No turkey salad! No turkey gravy! Turkey Hash! Turkey a la King! Or gallons of turkey soup! Gone, ALL GONE!" - A Christmas Story.

Thank you God for this food.

I Don't Eat That

I was listening to the NPR news quiz, “Wait, Wait…Don’t tell me” as I hiked this weekend and heard a story that hit close to home. The question, or should I say limerick, described the picky eating habits of some children.

At one point in my life (or at least 15 years) I was a picky eater, and my brother has continued to carry that title for his entire life. I’ve since outgrown most of my eating oddities, but I do not believe that my brother ever will. For instead of adding food to his repertoire as he grows, he seems to maintain the status quo over the years.

My sister is not innocent of the picky charge either. I believe that all three of us at one time in our childhood actually gagged on a vegetable at the table – and probably green beans. Always a great way to eat your veggies…maybe the 2nd time down could be the charm. After all, isn’t that what cottage cheese is anyways? Chewed up and spit out cheese? I wonder why it’s called cottage cheese? Maybe the cheese makers chew it up and spit it out in a cottage? No THANK YOU. I am not a baby bird.
And now, finally…we have been vindicated thanks to an article in the New York Times by Kim Severson.

Researchers examined the eating habits of 5,390 pairs of twins between 8 and 11 years old and found children’s aversions to trying new foods are mostly inherited. The message to parents: It’s not your cooking, it’s your genes. The study, led by Dr. Lucy Cooke of the department of epidemiology and public health at University College London, was published in the American Journal of Clinical Nutrition in August. Dr. Cooke and others in the field believe it is the first to use a standard scale to investigate the contribution of genetics and environment to childhood neophobia. According to the report, 78 percent is genetic and the other 22 percent environmental.

For the full article check out.
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/10/10/dining/10pick.html?_r=2&hp&oref=slogin&oref=slogin

Just thought I would set the record straight for all the family members who give our eating habits such a hard time. We got them from you.

And Yes, I too have a flute journal.

I thought that I should set the record straight and share my very own entries from the same trip that Val wrote about in her last entry. But after reading through my very enthralling notes, I determined not to bore the entire world with my geographic details. Apparently I had a wonderful time on that trip. I'm not sure why Valerie was so angry. What I did find was one entry from Colorado worth mentioning and an excellent mention of the start of another trip.

July 18, 1994

Today we traveled from Trinidad to Euray. Euray is beautiful. The mountain air is refreshing! We saw a lot of beautiful scenery. Tomorrow we aren't going jeeping. Instead I have no clue as to what we are doing. The town is so small, and quaint. Last night I was burning hot, tonight I will be hot. For dinner we had...HAM! Grandma Ann's favorite meal to fix. Every time we see her its HAM! I like ham but this is beginning to be a tradition! We, Gotta get some sleep. I'm extra tired.

March 11, 1995

Today we began the long trip to Georgia. The trip is long and annoying. Valerie and Clay constantly play and whine. Ann is completely silent. The phone constantly rings for Linda. It is usually Diana. The smell in Monroe, Louisiana is unbearable. We ate at Shonies. We have an 8 hour driver tomorrow. Maybe we will listen to more weird ghost stories. Oh Goodie.

(From the ghost story we heard - I can still remember the first three lines. It was a book on tape...I found the real lyrics on-line.)

'It was my mother who murdered me; It was my father who ate of me; It was my sister Marjory Who all my bones in pieces found; hem in a handkerchief she bound, And laid them under the almond tree. Kywitt, kywitt, kywitt, I cry, Oh what a beautiful bird am I!”

For the full story check out http://www.grimmstories.com/en/grimm_fairy-tales/the_almond_tree

Just Desserts

When I was growing up we generally sat down to dinner all together at the table. We never watched T.V. while we ate, unless it was New Years Eve or a really special occasion. My brother usually ate something slightly different than the rest of us. For the most part we enjoyed good conversation and some fun laughs.

I remember a particular night when we decided to go around the table and say something nice about the person to our left, or was it right? It sounds really lovely doesn’t it? Although the exact words have been lost over time, I do recall the main points of that evening.

I now present:

“Just Desserts”
a Play in One Act
by me

(A family sits around a rectangular table finishing up the remains of their dinner.)

MOM
Well I think it would be really nice if we could all say something nice about each other.

VALERIE
Yeah! Let’s do it! Don’t you think that sounds like fun Dad?

DAD
(slightly forced)
Sure. What a good idea.

GINGER
Do we go to the right or to the left?

CLAY
I don’t like shrimp. I don’t eat shrimp.

MOM
Yes you do!

GINGER
Clay! Stop it. Eat your food so we can do this!

CLAY
No fair…(bicker, bicker, martyr, etc.)….!

MOM
Well, I will start. I love that your Father is such a good provider for our family.

DAD
Thank you. And I appreciate that. I enjoy it when Clay does what he is told the first time he is asked.

CLAY
Uh. I like that Ginger sometimes mows the yard.

GINGER
I like that Valerie and I think the same things are funny.

VALERIE
I love that Mom makes dinner for us.

MOM
Clay, don’t forget all of your broccoli. Thank you, Valerie. I love that your Dad washes all of the cars and keeps them looking so shiny and nice.

DAD
I like it when Clay clears his plate

CLAY
I like it when Ginger doesn’t slurp her cereal in the morning.

GINGER
Clay! Well I like it when Valerie puts butter on her muffin and DOESN’T get blueberries in the butter.

VALERIE
I like it when Mom doesn’t yell in the morning.

MOM
I like it when your Dad unloads the dishwasher and puts the things where they go (motioning wildly) instead of putting them away randomly!

DAD
What?! Well, then I like it when Clay doesn’t smack with his mouth open.

CLAY
I like it when Dad doesn’t get on my case.

And SCENE.

We do not play this game anymore, but we have played “I Don’t like it when…” several times since then. You might try it sometime. It provides for an exciting mealtime.