30/30: Masquerading

October 19th

Tonight was our birthday milestone masquerade.  It was also our first occasion hosting a group of people in our new house!

I set up different "stations" for mask-making, cupcake decorating, eating, and hanging out.  We were turning 30, but I basically wanted to throw myself a kid's party--I'm pretty sure that's a sign of some kind of crisis, but I'm okay with it.  

Our guests were kind enough not to make fun of me, even getting into the spirit themselves, and we enjoyed a nice night of conversation in between crafting and food eating (Tommie's "famous" buffalo chicken pizza was a hit).

Thanks for being a part of our 30th!

30/30: Party Planning

October 4th 

We're officially throwing ourselves a 30th Milestone Birthday Masquerade.  For some reason, I've always wanted to have a masquerade ball and I feel like I'm getting a little old for it--this could be my last shot.  I envisioned having it in a dark hall with spiral stairs and balconies, but since we bought a house and spent all our money on that, we're having it in our living room.   

Today, I printed the invites which I created using this super easy (and free!) template from Greetings Island.  

Tonight we took advantage of this warm October weather (mid-80's which still takes some getting used to when you're from the north), and ate Chipotle on the deck with Maya.

Crazy in North Cackalacky

If I had blogged this past month, each post would have been titled "Why I Hate Doctors."  After seeing numerous doctors and specialists for chronic abdominal pain, having complications with a small procedure, and ending up in the ER, I realized that I was right all these years not to trust doctors.  I'm going with my gut, literally, and switching to an integrative health practice, and I feel better about it already.

Ironically, I have lived in three major medical/research areas in the country (San Diego, Boston, and now Raleigh/Durham)--surrounded by my medical mortal enemies (only a slight exaggeration).  Taking a more holistic/creative approach sometimes makes me feel like I'm the odd girl out...especially in the south.  I'm not sure where my quirky views and lifestyle fit here in north cackalacky, and I definitely find myself holding back for fear of saying/doing something too off-color.

I'm not used to being the craziest person around.  I've always been weird, no doubt, but (aside from my opinion that childbirth is actually the most unnatural thing in the world) I don't think I'd win the prize for crazy...until now.  People here don't talk about going to hippy doctors; they don't believe in astrology more than God; they don't use adjectives like "shitty"; and in reference to The Bachelor, they claim they would never kiss someone on national television.  Pa-lease.  They'd be lucky if I stopped there (again, only a slight exaggeration).

Maybe I need to meet weirder friends; maybe I need to accept that until more northerners keep moving down here, I'll be one of the pioneer weirdos in the south.  Onward!

Culinary Experiments on Guests

It was above 70 degrees in Durham this past weekend--gotta love those southern warm spurts in January. We had a friend and her boyfriend over for her belated birthday lunch/dessert and ate outside on our deck.

Tommie made Cap'n Crunch seared tuna--a recipe from Sam The Cooking Guy who has a local San Diego cooking show Tommie used to watch and misses dearly.  

People say not to try out new dishes on guests the first time you make them, but we always do.  What can I say?  We aren't afraid to ruin a friendship or two with food poisoning apparently.  Luckily, it hasn't come down to that...yet.

I'm not sure if I was more excited about the tuna or the Cap'n Crunch--my favorite sugary cereal as a kid, though I rarely got it (Mom.)  

While Tommie took care of lunch, I handled dessert.  I attempted to make one of these beauties, which I originally saw in a Martha Stewart bridal magazine.

Found here.

For the mold I used a bundt pan that I found at the dump where my parents live in Maine.  While some people get out the fine china for their guests, I get out things I found in a trash pile.  Nothing but the best for my friends!  (I do promise it was washed throughly.)

The finished product looked a little more like flan since the edges melted when I ran it under water to loosen it, but luckily sorbet still tastes like sorbet no matter what form it's in.  Maybe next time I can get it to look more like Martha's.

Weekend in Chicago

We didn't run the Chicago marathon this weekend, but I'm pretty sure we did walk a marathon around this city. 

Tommie and I went there to visit my old college roommate who is currently living/working in Illinois, and our other college friend flew in from Boston with her boyfriend. We were there because I had to attend a trade show for my job later that week. We all agreed it was very "grown up" of us to be meeting up in a somewhat random city.

The five of us spent most of our time around Millennium Park and Michigan Ave. We also went to The Art Institute Chicago, but I think there was actually more interesting sculptures and buildings to see just walking around.

Of course there was good food involved, treating ourselves to a nice dinner at Allium, Bandera, and other local finds. We needed to carbo load...it was marathon weekend after all.

It was fun to travel and see friends before heading off to my conference. I wish it could always be like that. Next week I will turn the odd age of 29 sitting on a plane by myself traveling to Las Vegas for another print-related trade show. If only I could find an excuse to treat myself to a birthday showing of The Thunder Down Under, but I don't think that's considered a work expense.

Bringing Pinterest to Life

A lot of what we do around here involves food.

We go out and try new restaurants around Durham; we head over to neighbor's houses for potlucks and curry; we host new friends at cook-outs and dinners. We don't drink, but we sure do eat a lot.

My go-to recipes for get-togethers are guacamole and key lime pie, but we've already graced parties with these platters so I've had to start thinking of ways to branch out. Enter Pinterest. 

The danger with Pinterest is that you may find yourself pinning pretty picture after pretty picture but not actually doing anything about it, so I've been going back and attempting to bring my "Foodie" board to life.

I posted a couple weeks ago about making this pasta, crab, and basil dish. It was simple to make, filling, and a welcome change from regular pasta.

This week I was tasked to make a salad for a get together. I had no lettuce but I did have plenty of basil growing outside and bright orange tomatoes from the farmer's market, so I tried this chickpea, basil, and cherry tomato salad recipe. Again, easy to make (this is key for me) and a twist on regular salad. 

Over the long weekend, I tried this recipe for banana "ice cream," which really only requires frozen bananas and a food processor. If you want, you can add peanut butter and cocoa. 

This never happens, but I actually might like the plain banana version better. I still eat my fair share of regular ice cream, but this is a healthy alternative. It even looks like ice cream.

I have to admit that I feel a sense of accomplishment seeing these pins come to life instead of just drooling over the pictures. 

Our *New* Anniversary

Last year, July 30th was a hot, sunny day in New England and I couldn't believe that I had planned an outdoor wedding that would not be rained out...it was a miracle.

So much has transpired over the past year--I started a new job, we traveled, I had surgery on my foot, my mom had surgery on her lung, Tommie started a new job, and we moved from Massachusetts to North Carolina. It makes the wedding seem like it was much more than a year ago...which is why I wish we could do it again!

But really, even if I tried to do it all over, I couldn't guarantee the sky that day would be so blue, or that everyone I loved could be there, or that the dress I ordered on a whim would be just right, or that Maya and all the kids would be so well-behaved during the ceremony, or that my Dad would make everyone laugh so much with his speech, or that my day-of wedding planner would be so supportive, and everyone who helped us in some form would be amazing, or that I would look back and appreciate it so much that I'd even want to do it all over again. This day last year was perfect.

Housewarming Party

This past weekend marked one month since I left Massachusetts and headed south to join Tommie in Durham. We've met a lot of new people through Tommie's work and had some of them over for a housewarming party. It was nice to show off our current home, which has come a long way since the very first day when I cried because I didn't know where to put anything.

Here are people hanging out in the living room (our couch arrived just in time)...

And by "people" I also mean Maya who lasted as long as she could sitting on the floor before reclaiming her chair.

Some people braved the heat and sat outside on the patio...

Part of the set-up, of course, included lanterns hanging from the trees, but it was too light out to put candles in them...

We Tommie cooked and grilled. Here's our pulled pork and grilled chicken slider station...

And I put out snacks. I couldn't wait to use my new appetizer orbs and ceramic berry trays... 

Everyone liked going around looking at Tommie's photographs. They all seemed to have a really good time. Next time, Tommie and I will try not to strangle each other before the guests arrive. In the end, the house was full of noise and laughter and good smelling food...you can't go wrong with that.

Our Wedding

images from www.coast2coastimages.com

I'm happy to report wedding day success!

All the planning, organizing, and countless hours on Craigslist and Ebay paid off in what amounted to a marriage celebration that truly felt like a reflection of "us." It was real, it was cute, it was natural, it was with our closet friends and family who have been with us for many years. There were no catastrophes, no major meltdowns, and on top of that, it was a beautifully warm and sunny day! New England weather finally came through! Since we planned the bulk of this wedding ourselves, I totally think we earned that.

The gardens were absolutely beautiful. Tommie's Dad took some fantastic shots (as exhibited in this blog), and our second shooter was very creative and patient as she followed me around the garden making me pose all over the place for pictures. ..ok, so maybe the truth is she had to basically ask me to stop posing.

Even Maya (the dog of honor) and all the kids were attentive and well-behaved. I was very proud. The reception that followed went smoothly with the help of our awesome day-of planner. We got to eat our favorite east coast Mexican food, catch up with old friends, and dance (though Tommie could use some new dance moves). There was fun, there was laughter, and of course, a lot of pictures to remember it all.

I'll post more details about our vendors soon for anyone considering a wedding in New Hampshire or the surrounding area.

amberISconfused

I have never been good at coming to quick decisions. Choosing an ice cream flavor presents a big enough challenge, let alone choosing career moves, what city I want to live in, and how I will ever achieve balance between what I want, what I need, and what I'm stuck with. My e-mail address pretty much sums up my general feelings about life lately and all its major (and not so major) decisions.

The other day I was on the phone with my health insurance provider and the man on the line asked for my e-mail address.

"Amberisconfused..." I paused so that he could type it in the system, but the pause lasted longer than usual. "All one word..." I coaxed him along.

"What?" The man on the other end of the phone said.

"My e-mail...amberisconfused...all one word," I repeated.

"Oh!" He exclaimed, "I thought you were making a statement!"

I had to laugh. It was partly true.

In 8th grade my friends and I were using the public library's computer because none of our parents had the Internet yet. My friend told me I should get on e-mail but I didn't feel like it (an early rebellion against technology); she insisted, and said she'd set up an account for me, but when it came time to pick an e-mail address, I panicked.

"Oh my god, this is going to be with me for the rest of my life!" I said like the melodramatic, indecisive Libra I am.

"It's NOT a big deal," my friend assured me. "You can always make another one."

"NO, I can't. People are going to know this one...I can't just change it. I need to think of something really good, something memorable, meaningful, insightful..."

She rolled her eyes and waited, fingers poised on the keyboard. But it was too much pressure. My friends started offering suggestions but I found a reason to reject them all. We had a 20-minute time limit on the public computer; the librarian started to give us "the eyes."

My friend at the computer eventually let out a frustrated groan: "Ughhhhh! Amberisconfused!" at the same time typing her statement into the system, clicking enter, and memorializing my perpetual state of confusion and indecision. I couldn't get upset with her...after all, it was true.

While the decisions I had to make as an 8th grader were more trivial than the decisions I encounter as an adult, I still have the same reaction to them. After all these years, I still use the e-mail address and I'm still confused.

Express Yourself

Almost everyone has a creative talent/outlet.

Tommie has discovered a recent passion for photography, and I'm not just saying this because I'm fond of the kid (he knows I'm not generous with my compliments), but he really has an eye for it. The other night I was looking at his photography—all serious and beautiful—then I looked over at him on the couch sharing a cheese stick with the dog...then looked back to his photos: sophisticated and polished...then back to him making ugly faces in my general direction, and I thought, "Were these pictures really taken by that weirdo over there?"

I got to thinking about how many of us have a creative form of expression that suite us best. Tommie's photos are better than his words; better than how he speaks and writes; better than how he draws or how he dances (sorry, Tommie, your electric slide is more creepy than talented if you ask me). For me, I think I write much better than I speak. Writing allows me to take my time with words and better express myself. It's also cathartic, but for other people words don't do it at all...they prefer expression through painting or art. I remember a very shy girl in grade school who hardly uttered a word, but man, could she draw. You would never guess the striking sketches came from the same girl. Other people "speak" best through other means such as cooking or through music (or in my sister's case, karaoke—why couldn't her outlet be a little more quiet?).

Maybe we all have a certain way we shine. Sometimes that outlet is underestimated, shoved aside, or may be undiscovered, but it's always telling. It's the way we feel most comfortable, most expressive and most like ourselves.

Sober

I have never been drunk. Not only that, but I've never been buzzed or had more than a sip of an alcoholic beverage. Does that make me a loser? A serious fart? A difficult person to understand? I guess it makes me a little bit of all those things.

Choosing the sober route in life isn't easy—let me rephrase that...it's easy not to drink, it's just not easy to convince other people that it's easy not to. I don't go around touting the fact that I don't drink but when people find out, they look at me like I just told them I don't need to BREATHE, and they follow up with a game of 20 questions: "Wait...you don't drink? Ever? You're telling me you've never been drunk? Ever? Why? What is wrong with you!?"

It would be easy if I just had a good excuse, but I don't. I just don't want to. My Mom blames D.A.R.E. (gosh darn those programs when they actually work on a kid), but I think I'm just an old soul and I have no desire to whatsoever. That explanation is not acceptable to most people. "Okay, so you must be religious? You're Mormon? You're in AA? Your parents will kill you?" No, no, no, and no. The other person goes silent. I hear crickets chirping. Then, suddenly their eyes light up and I become the ultimate challenge: "Oh, man, I am going to get you SO wasted!" My friends laugh: "Good luck," they say, "we've been trying for years."

It took me years to convince my friends that I wasn't going to drink and that I was still going to be "cool." At first I was not. I was upset that my friends needed to drink to have a good time, and they were upset their friend had become Queen Killjoy. But as time went on I learned tolerance; I learned how to have fun with people while they drank; I learned patience; I even learned how to lose inhibition while being sober (this last one is like performing a magic trick...the only negative is I have no excuses for the things I've done). Honestly, it took me years to strike a good Libraic balance between being an overachieving goody-two-shoes and an accepting and fun person to still be around. While the serious side of me still outweighs the carefree side that I'm sure a tall glass of wine would help bring out, I like not drinking; it makes me different.

There are people who get angry with me at bars, people who don't trust me at parties, and others who just don't accept me...but I understand. Since "everybody" drinks, I had to learn tolerance a lot earlier and faster than others had to learn how to tolerate the lone sober girl. But I have to say, for every person who hates me for sipping a Sprite on the rocks, there is another who finds it intriguing, admirable or cool that I can be independent. While staying sober does inhibit me from enjoying five straight hours of karaoke (sorry, Eva), it does not stop me from finding the situations I get in to be interesting, enlightening and entertaining. On my great sober quest I've had a blast with friends, I've had adventures with my crazy sister, met a lot of characters and smooched a lot of strangers (all stories for another time).

My mission was/is not to convert people to soberism (I know I'll die with 20 more stress-related ulcers than people who do drink), but I do try to show that a loser who doesn't drink can still be social and funny, can still go off her rocker, can still be cute and outgoing, and that it's not such a bad deal...after all, you never have to share your beer and you can always get a ride home.

St. Peter's Fiesta

Despite the never-ending rain and drizzle that's been hugging the coastline for weeks, the city of Gloucester is not about to let that stop the opening ceremony of the most important "holiday" of the year—St. Peter's Fiesta.

How can I describe Fiesta? As someone who grew up in Gloucester, the annual five-day city-wide "party" seems normal, but whenever I invite people to join me for Fiesta and I tell them we'll go watch the greasy pole (a contest in which a bunch of Italian men dress up in drag and slide across a grease-covered pole suspended horizontally in the middle of the harbor attempting to grab the Italian flag stuck to the end of it), and on the last night we can march in the closing procession where people chant "Viva San Pietro!" (those who don't understand what to say chant "Eat a potato!")—my friends look at me like I'm barking mad. So I learned Fiesta isn't "normal" to most Americans.

Gloucester, Mass. a famous fishing port, has a large Italian population. When the Sicilian families settled here, earning their livelihood as fishermen, they brought along their beliefs and customs—including the one to pay homage to the patron saint of fishermen (St. Peter). This has evolved into the St. Peter's Fiesta. You can read more about the history at www.stpetersfiesta.org

Probably the most amazing part of Fiesta is its ability to bring the entire city of Gloucester back for a reunion. Even if you have no Italian heritage (or something like 2% like myself), having grown up in Gloucester is enough of an excuse to come back and reunite with your entire hometown. It's a kind of pilgrimage. My sister, a die-hard Fiesta fan, comes back from California every year. In her own words: "I've missed birthdays, weddings and funerals, but I'll NEVER miss Fiesta!" That might be Fiesta loyalty to the extreme, but it is the one time you can count on seeing 99% of your friends (and enemies) in the same place, at the same time. And let me tell you, there is something very odd about going into a bar and seeing your entire middle school class there. A few years ago I walked into a downtown bar and bumped into a kid who was a troublemaker in my 7th grade class. The teachers used to sit him next to me so I'd be a "good influence." I hadn't seen him in about eight years and he was drunk as a skunk, but a look of recognition flashed across his face and he hollered, "Hey! You used to help me with spelling!" Just the sort of thing I like to have announced in a bar. For better or worse, Fiesta never forgets you.

No Place Like Home

I cannot believe that I have been back in Massachusetts for a month. Somehow during the time I was readjusting to my surroundings, reconnecting with old friends, and hunting for jobs, the entire month of May flew by. I realize I haven't written much about being home and truthfully it is because I am still accepting the idea of being (and staying) home. But if you're wondering if I'm happy here, I am.

Sometimes when I walk around the same shoreline I walked around as a kid, I can't help thinking to myself, "This is exactly where I am supposed to be." It's hard not to feel like you belong in a place like this. The Atlantic Ocean has been as calm as a lake lately; the beach at night has no one else on it. I remember when my friends and I would take midnight strolls around the neighborhood during sleep-overs and we'd never encounter another soul (which was probably a good thing since we usually went out dressed up in ball-gowns...don't ask). I think about how lucky we were to grow up in a place that felt like the whole coastline belonged to us...and that we, in turn, belonged to it.

I've been spending a lot of time with my old friends since my return. When I am with them I feel like the three years I spent in California were like years I spent in a dream. It's like I lived an alternate ending to a novel that no one else read or like I was frozen in space for three years only to return back to where I left off. It's not to say that I didn't grow or learn from my time in San Diego; I just think that whole experience is probably meant to be some kind of "secret" shared with a small group of people including my family, Tommie, and those who flitted in and out of my life out there.

I will always look back on my time in CA fondly but I knew that place wasn't "me" no matter how badly I wanted it to be at times (mainly how badly I wanted the surfers to be for me). When my family first told me the news about moving to California I remember feeling a little shocked but also happy. In my gut I felt okay with the news so I knew that was where we were supposed to go. So, no matter what happened to us there and whether we all leave San Diego (my parents and sister are still there), that was the right move to make at the time. The decision to move back home also felt right so I know things will work out. I am home and I am where I'm supposed to be right now.

Mean Girls

When I read fiction I want to encounter characters. Of course every fiction novel has characters in it, but what I’m looking for are characters who are characters. I don’t know what this says about my own character, but my favorite books of all time have one thing in common—mean girls.

When I took a 19th century literature class in college my favorite book was “Wuthering Heights,” by Emily Bronte. My friend who took the class with me thought I was crazy...she swooned over Jane Austen and couldn’t understand how I could like a book with such mean characters in it, and I realized that was exactly why I liked it. Catherine was mean; she was real; she was torn, and multi-dimensional (Heathcliff was no walk in the park either).

In that same class we read Dickens’s “David Copperfield.” My friend loved this one, so you can probably guess where I stood on it...it bored me to tears. I almost swore off Dickens’s entirely...until I met Miss Havisham and Estella in “Great Expectations.” A crazy old woman dressed in her tattered wedding gown living in a rundown mansion training her young daughter to become a heartbreaker...now that's a character. If you ask me, Pip, (the main character) had everything little David Copperfield did not...he had mean girls in his life. They asked Pip to come visit and ordered him to dance around a rotting wedding cake; pretty young Estella kissed him then made him cry within the same breath...(I know what you’re thinking...and I have never made someone dance around a rotting wedding cake.)

I know this will come as a shock, but girls can be caddy; I have always respected girls who were just outright mean because then, at least, everyone was being honest. The truth is, I grew up with friends full of wit and sassiness who I think these novel characters could have been based on (indeed, at times, I've thought they could be based on me). These girls were smart, sarcastic, funny and, yes, slightly sinister. I can’t help emitting a little smirk while I’m reading these books and thinking of the characters who entered my own life. Call me crazy, but I miss these mean girls.

*Please See Attached

I have a secret love for forms and surveys. Something about systematically outlining information and/or my opinions for others to read makes me happy. In fact, it makes me so happy I usually get carried away. I think it's the inner writer/over-achiever that makes me elaborate to an extent that no form collector ever intended. When I see "yes" or "no" questions I find myself writing side notes in the margins, and I despise open-ended questions that don't give enough room to even begin to answer the question.

When I was entering college I took my roommate survey very seriously. I was going to be living in a room (scratch that—a small cell) with a complete stranger. There were multiple-choice questions on the form concerning bedtime and cleaning habits. But if you ask me, there were not nearly enough questions. I wanted to see questions on religion, politics, philosophy, background checks...this was a very important match they would be making. And at the very end there was one line—ONE LINE—to include anything else about yourself/your expectations concerning rooming. And underneath that it said, *If needed, attach additional notes. I wrote *Please see attached (which took up the whole line they had provided), got out my notepad and went to work..."I am a quiet person in general but I like to be social at times too. I don't like girls who like drama. I enjoy running and dancing and I love the ocean. I have an appreciation for the creative arts. I'm very clean. I'm a Libra, which means I'm very balanced and I'd like a roommate who exhibits those same traits. Gemini's typically annoy me...[no coincidence it's my sister's sign]" Two pages later I felt satisfied. They knew everything they needed to place me with my perfect roommate. In retrospect, I am surprised they didn't revoke my admission.

It didn't take me long to realize the only thing the admission office read on those roommate surveys was the male/female box. No one reads surveys. Secretly I know this. They are simply a formality. But one thing the college experience taught me was that my long-winded responses are also only a formality. It’s a way for me to know I did my part...but when I find out I have two roommates...one a Gemini who talks to herself while I'm trying to do my homework, another who's dirty sock monsters spill out of every drawer and closet all over the room...I can say, "Well, at least I tried, but this will do." I think other people know, more than I do, that once I'm in a situation I can revise my expectations and I can enjoy it...that’s because most people are more relaxed about things than I am.

My two roomies and I were the only "forced triple" (room meant for two that they put three girls in) in the dorm to make it through the entire year without one of us demanding to move out. Somehow by NOT listening to me, admissions had placed me with two of the best roommates for me. Moral of the story: Sometimes you have to have faith that fate will run its course and it will all work out for the best. A very hard concept for an over-prepared Libra to accept. Has that stopped me from writing short novels on comment cards and surveys? Absolutely not.