I Hate Rachel Ray

Okay, maybe hate is a strong word.  But I do really get annoyed with her because I'm envious of her, and pretty much any woman that can throw a meal together with ease.  The way she whirls her large ass around the kitchen and somehow piles ALL the ingredients she needs with only one trip to the fridge into those arms of hers...I'll probably never have the ability to do.  I'm jealous...super jealous.  Why can't I throw some crap I have on hand and start with some "EVOO"  and create a delicious meal my husband would swoon for?

Well, for starters I never really learned how.  My mother was never much of a cook herself, and therefore I never knew much about working my way around the kitchen.  But I'm not going to blame my mom's super busy schedule on my inability to learn...cause obviously I picked up on other things, like baking.  But what I'm trying to convey, is that if we ever want a nice home cooked meal, seriously...Gerard HAS to make it.  That's just a fact.

Don't get me wrong, over the past year of marriage and earlier (yes, this weekend will be one year) I've tried my hand at a few recipes.  I use cookbooks, look up recipes on the internet, and really try my best to make a dish that will not only taste great, but won't burn my kitchen down.  So far, most of my meals consist of pure panic, anxiety, and a dash of love...which usually makes for okay meat, and blase sides.

Gerard has a flight home from Phoenix tonight, and he'll be home about 6 am.  He then has to go to work and give a presentation, so I figured he'd be in full-on asshole zombie mode.  What better time than tomorrow night to try and annoy him with one of my shitty home cooked meals?  Perfect!

Last night I thought I'd go get some groceries to start on my progress of being a good wife.  I spent a pretty penny and felt pretty good about most of what I purchased.  Only downside, is that I waited until today to actually figure out what I was going to make. 
Cooking for Geraldine gives me so much anxiety, that I usually come up a list of things for him to choose from...with the last 3-4 being recipes that I've already made him suffer through, or one of the gross concoctions I make for myself when he's out of town (just mark this as food he has no desire to eat). 

Today I emailed him a list of about 5 different choices, and he narrowed it down to the top 2.  Me being the really smart girl that I am, chose the recipe that I've never in my life made before, over the one that I've successfully created (yes! I have one!) and would only need to pick up one extra ingredient for.  But why make my life easy?!?  Really...that would make NO sense.  I wanted to be extra perfect for my zombie/asshole husband and went with this bad boy:

Apple Cider Pulled Chicken Sandwiches with Apple Slaw

Holy Fall...right?!  What a perfect meal for me to make!  (Well, I guess we'll technically have to wait and see).  I had to run to Kroger again tonight to get the rest of the ingredients I didn't have at home.  I spent 30 minutes walking around the joint looking for Apple Cider, one of the main ingredients of the dish.  After getting a very kind store associate to help me look (to make sure I wasn't illiterate) we came to the conclusion that the store does not YET carry apple cider.  Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!?!  Holy panic.  What do you mean you don't carry apple cider.  Doesn't Walmart, the mall and every other store have shit out for Christmas?  How did Kroger not get the memo??  I was so upset that I somehow managed to pick yet another recipe that was going to cause me more stress than needed...what. a. shame.  I grabbed a $3 bottle of wine on my way out the door to head home and sulk.

It was on my way out of the parking lot I thought about going across the street to Publix.  Oh Publix, you were like a beacon guiding me through the night.  I walked right in (and since I rarely shop there wandered around like an idiot) and finally found the holy grail...my apple cider.  For Publix marked-up prices of course.

After 3 different grocery store trips, I finally drove home feeling pretty confident about tomorrow night's meal.  I went to unload the car with my amazing ingredients, smiling like an idiot because I felt like THE. BEST. WIFE. IN. THE. WORLD.

At that very moment something crashed at my feet.  Oh shit.  I feared that it would be one of my key ingredients, but no, far worse...it was my bottle of happiness.  My cheap wine.  I could have screamed.  I did curse...

I decided I had to man-up and clean the mess, and then I realized that I needed to use my head.  I grabbed a plastic cup and sat the dirty bag of glass shards in it.  Wine was still pouring out of the holes in the bag like a champagne fountain at a wedding...I had to act fast!!  It was a like a Vietnam flashback...so yes, this is what I did:

I made sure to strain the glass shard wine, so that maybe I could salvage some...just any of the bottle that was just soaking into the concrete.  As you can see, I got enough for one glass.  Sure I might now have some bleeding in the mouth...but to me, it was worth every drop.

I just hope tomorrow's meal turns out to be worth all the trouble. If not, I'm going to start watching every episode of Rachel Ray to learn what that slut knows.

Contentment

Well, it's officially September 25th and I survived the weekend without going to my high school reunion.  I didn't freak, I didn't even feel like I was missing out...and thanks to Facebook I can see that many others didn't make it either.  I think part of the reason I feel pretty good about my decision, is that I spent the night with the people that mean the most...starting with Jared's family for dinner, then a little drinking with my family for my cousins birthday, and ended the night at home with beers with my best friend and husband (okay, so I'm the only one that had beers).

I hate to get all sappy on you, cause that's really not my style...but spending time with those people made me realize that I was exactly where I wanted to be.  Not trying to explain what I've been up to over the past 10 years to people that there is clearly a reason I haven't talked to.  Or running into the girls that were in the "it" crowd so many moons ago...I still see them, they didn't go anywhere.

I have agreed to meet up with my friend that came in from Los Angeles tomorrow, but I'm just going to keep my head up, and wait to hear how her new porn acting career is going.  Let's hope I don't have a tourrettes moment and blurt out something I'll regret.  But if I do, I'm sure it'll make for a pretty good next blog posting.

I'm now about to pour a glass of wine, sit on my back porch (it is 79 degrees) and wait on my husband to finish dinner.  Yes, if we're going to eat something good, it HAS to come from him.


I apologize for the actual nice posting, I hope to have something far more entertaining to write about next time. I do have a First Anniversary rapidly approaching (7 days), a Halloween Party that I really hope is filled with debauchery, a trip to Los Angeles, and a trip to Mexico...so yeah, we should have plenty to cover.  Oh, and I still hate work, so I'm sure I'll post about that too.


Until next time...

A Rough Decade

Okay, so I know I'm a terrible American for not posting something on my blog for the 10 year anniversary of September 11th.  I do remember where I was, how I felt, and how thankful I am...blah, blah, some crap everyone else posted on Facebook.  I'm actually a very emotional person, so writing about serious things does not appeal to me...I'm home alone (oh boy, there's a shock) and don't feel like getting all sappy and crying while we discuss that over a $3 bottle of wine. 


And not only did I not write about that, I also didn't write about the two weeks I was away from home; one for work, and the other for play.  Nor did I write about how big of a failure my "garden" is now that I left it stranded for those two weeks...I'm talking we had to rip the watermelon right out.  It was just ridiculous.

What I do want to talk about is something that's been on my mind for the past (absentee) month...a reunion that is giving me mixed emotions.  One that has caused more anxiety than an exam, or what shoes to wear...I'm referring to my 10 year class reunion.  Shit. Fuck. I can feel the vomit creeping up my throat as I type this.  And what better time to discuss this than now, cause it's this Saturday.  Yep, a little throw-up in my mouth.


Don't get me wrong, I have been doing my usual wifely duties around here.  I did watch 9/11 tributes, and the season finale of Rescue Me...but seriously, this reunion is the one thing that has managed to stress me out the most (and my work trip was during hurricane Irene) out of anything I've had looming.  It takes over every conversation, and has me checking the Facebook invite daily.


What is it about this reunion that is so upsetting to me?  Have I not achieved a few bragging rights over the years?  I did get two (count 'em) useless diplomas to hang on my wall (or wipe my ass with), I did get married to a very handsome guy (who is just as disturbingly vulgar as I), I do weigh 10 pounds LESS than I did in high school, and I do now own a house, and live debt free (well, besides that stupid mortgage)...sounds like the American f'ing dream!!  Right?!?! 


Ugh...but it's useless.  The one thing I think I always really wanted out of my 10 year class reunion was to be able to come back successful, and confident.  And I think it's a little late to try and convince people that I invented Post-It notes, pretty sure some sluts ruined that in a movie...





Need one of those dresses ASAP!

 
I do have a friend that's trying to make it big in LA now, so of course she's coming all the way home to throw that in everyone's face.  But I don't really have an awesome porn acting career to brag about.  And the only reason I lost the 10 pounds was because I managed to get Irritable Bowel Syndrome since the last time I saw some of these folks.  And not really sure that's something I should be sharing...even though I always (gladly) do.  Not to mention Gerard has no desire to go, and my best friends and support group will not be there.


I think that's why I've finally decided that I won't go.  I don't want to have any regrets, but thanks to Facebook, most people can see my successes and failures online everyday.  They can also see that I don't exactly look like my senior photo any longer (or at least I hope not).

Yep, that's/was me.  My high school graduation photo. I know, I know...I look like a mix of Vince Neil (if you don't know who that is I need you to get off of my blog NOW) and Chaz Bono.  I had a serious addiction to chocolate chip cookies, and Sun-In for my hair, and the "Rachel from friends" haircut.  Oy vey.

This wasn't exactly the best post to throw at you after a month of silence, but I needed to be honest about what I've been up to.  And deciding whether I've bettered myself over the last decade has been at the forefront.  And let's be honest, I only wanted to go to see if the popular kids got fat, and the band nerds turned hot.  I think that's the only reason they make you have these dreadful things...isn't it?

I bid you a goodnight!!