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There are a TON of things I want to write about but its always a little hard to get that motivation to actually sit down and write it down. I have all these great ideas and sit down to write it but then I hit that stupid block that makes everything I write sound so insanely tedious, like I’m trying too hard to be witty and funny and you know how much I prefer to make it look like everything came together so effortlessly even though I was just running around like a headless chicken. I can be breezy.

I really don’t like coming through the blog and seeing so many empty dates on that calendar. Maybe I should get rid of it. Hmm. Its just an interesting change from my Xanga days and the early days of this spot because I used to write every day, a lot of it about nonsense but it was something. I have noticed a bit of an evolution in my blog posts though: they’re a whole lot more focused than they used to be, which is a lot easier to read, believe you me. I almost cringe a little when I read through the archives. You can call me Cringer. Except I’m not really lazy. or cowardly. At least, not really.

The problem is, I get a lot of ideas while I’m driving and there’s no way to write them down and by the time I get home, I’ve forgotten the brilliant plot I had so cleverly imagined. I’ve been thinking of either recording my rambles as I drive or doing the occasional vlog to help keep the writing flowing. I think it would be fun, the vlog thing. Though I will warn you that I probably don’t sound like you’d expect.

Or maybe I do.

Last Saturday I had my “Ice Cream Social” 29th birthday party and I had such a great time. Y’all know how elaborate I tend to get with my birthday parties and this was no exception. I had several different ideas of what I should do however, I had to pare it down a bit while I wasn’t receiving any checks and at first thought I wanted to do a bit of a mini eating world tour, with different food for different countries, like bruschetta, mondu, mini tacos and the like complete with decorations. It sounded awesome in my head but completely daunting to make happen roughly on my own. Then somehow I got in my head that ice cream would be the way to go.

So glad I went with that. I had a blast making all the ice cream [I plan on doing a separate post just on the ice cream and recipes] and now want my own ice cream maker. Everyone had a blast trying all different flavors: Cake Batter, Raspberry Mascarpone, S’mores, Nutella and Candied Bacon [yes, I KNOW!]. The Cake Batter was probably the favorite of the day though Candied Bacon was the dark horse. Several people were skeptical but they were totally on board after trying it. The bacon threw them off and I had to explain a couple of times that the bacon was merely a mix-in and not a flavor.

My mom was a HUGE help too, making the mondu, kimbap and these awesome chicken wings for the party. I rounded out the menu with mini calzones, beef and chicken tacos and pulled pork sliders. And for dessert, cupcake cones!

I was really glad to see everyone who was able to attend and we had a great time stuffing our faces with food and ice cream [and in Pat's case, a face full of cupcake]. It was very casual in comparison to my other parties but that’s probably because it was at home instead of out somewhere else. People were scattered all over the house chatting and relaxing and most importantly, eating. I had so much food that I told everyone their party favors were plates of food. For serious.

So a quick story: I was posing with Pat for a picture to prove that he actually attended a party [he was a pleasant surprise] and for some reason, I pushed my cupcake cone into his face. He’s a weirdly good sport with me and took it in stride only to reveal that he thought about doing the same thing to me. Good thing I beat him to it! So after he cleaned up, we finally took our picture and I made sure to keep my hands empty and where he could see them.

All in all, the party was a total and complete success. I’m already having people asking me what I plan on doing for next year. The expectations are high since it’ll be my 30th birthday and that alone deserves a big blow out. What to do…what to do.

How much do fireworks run?

Your recent marketing blitz for your newly redesigned product really caught my attention. I always appreciate the value of a rebranding campaign, as I am a little bit of a marketing nerd, and I love breaking them down but I must say that I almost fell for yours. Almost.

Your concerted effort to make your target market aware of the ridiculousness and almost cookie-cutter like propagated by other tampon commercials made me laugh, think, and notice these visual signatures in your competitors’ commercials. A bit of an a-ha moment.

But upon further investigation thanks to the promotional pack that was sent to me, I was disappointed to find that this slick rebranding effort resulted in nothing more than brightly colored packaging. And I love good packaging [hehe]. The product is obviously still the same: the liners worked like normal, I didn’t like the regular pads, and the little tampons that I was excited for because they were compact [great for secreting away into the bathroom] were very disappointing. If you slide the plunger even a millimeter too far, it falls completely out and then you’re left fumbling with the applicator. So in essence, the neon colors did not make up for the overall product dissatisfaction. Fail.

Now, I know the greater good is for “empowering girls and women to take control of their health and bodies” which is a noble and fantastic goal, especially so for the young girls who are beginning their periods and are completely awkward about the whole thing, but really? You couldn’t do this without the brightly colored wrapping paper? And did you focus so much on the packaging that you failed to make sure your product stood up to practical use?

Look, I understand the power in embracing being a woman and all that it entails and I know having my period every month is not a big deal. It happens, big whoop [it would be a bigger whoop if it didn't happen]. But that doesn’t mean I want to broadcast the fact that I’m on my period to the world every time I need to make a change. Seriously. Especially not as a teenager.

I was awkward enough dealing with the whole period thing in junior high and high school [yes, it took me a while to come to terms with it] and there is no way I would have wanted to use a product that draws attention to itself because it’s brightly wrapped like candy. It screams “Look at me! I’M ON MY PERIOD!! I’M BLEEEEEEEEEDING!” I don’t want that. I want to be able to discreetly handle my business. No need letting everyone else know. I’ve never been the type of person who openly complained about the effects of my period [mainly because I don't have many that are newsworthy] because why would I want people to know? Why would people want to know?

Wanna know what helped me? Going grocery shopping with boys in college. There was no way around it. I had to buy the stuff so I owned it. And it didn’t involve anything brightly colored. Thank goodness. But I don’t fully knock your effort. It’s definitely novel and gets us talking [look at me, I'm talking about my period on my blog! Say what?!] but the florescent colors are just not my style. I’d rather use a product I can trust that isn’t fantastically packaged than a smartly packaged mediocre product.

Sincerely,

Me

Now that I’ve officially been 29 for two days now [as of the fifth], I decided it was time to start doing things that 29 year olds do. Mainly things like curling my hair.

I know what you’re thinking: curling my hair isn’t something specific to 29 year olds. Especially now when my 20 year old sister curls her hair all the time. But I don’t always curl my hair and really, it never really became a MUST DO for me. Some days I feel the need to fancy up my hair and my birthday was one of those days, and it turned out fabulously. And I’m honestly thinking of doing it more often. Partly because my hair actually looks pretty good curled and because my new flat iron is the shiz.

But back to my birthday. I had a lot of fun. I met up with a high school friend for dinner [the other one bailed because he had pink eye. I scoffed] and we had a fabulous time talking and eating our way through the special tasting menu. We both ordered it and shared so we got to try everything. Quite the delicious approach. Our dinner probably would have been better had the mother at the other end of the banquette was better able to manage her kids. It looked like she was overmatched: one kid was running around up and down the bench and nearly ran into me several times and the other was just wandering around the area. I tried really hard not to give her the stink eye but seriously? Teach your kids how to properly behave in public and maybe you won’t be so stressed out when you do take them out. Plus, the rest of us would really, really appreciate it.

My favorite part of the day was the first half that I spent with my mom in Yountville and Napa. We stopped at Bouchon Bakery for birthday macarons and a brioche roll [butterilicious]. We hadn’t planned on doing anything else but since the weather was beautiful and we didn’t have to be anywhere just then, we ended up having an impromptu picnic at the Vintage Estate Marketplace across the street. The Pavilion is gorgeous area that actually is a dedicated wedding venue that we both fell in love with. I would totally have our wedding here if it wouldn’t have eaten up just about our entire wedding budget.

Anywho, while we were snacking and chatting, we spotted celebrity chef Michael Chiarello meandering by; makes sense because his restaurant, Bottega, is located there, along with his store, NapaStyle. My mom spotted him first and we both kind of sat there and tried really hard not to stare at him. And then on our way out of the plaza, we walked by him. He said hello and nodded and I totally chickened out on asking for a picture even though my mom was ready to run him down for me and totally would have if I let her [what can I say, she loves her daughters]. She totally geeked out that he looked at her and nodded. It was the cutest thing ever; she was so excited. For a moment I slightly regretted not asking for a picture [and yes, I was prepared to play the birthday card] but sometimes I wonder if celebrities are relieved when they don’t have to make idle chit chat with fans and pose for pictures and can just go about their merry little ways. So really, I was doing HIM a favor.

You hear that Michael Chiarello? You’re welcome.

At the height of the cupcake revolution, someone somewhere [read: I don't remember where I saw it] proclaimed the French macaron as the new cupcake. Now, I’ve been on cupcakes since I first learned of their awesome existence because I’m freakishly obsessed with cake so I wasn’t really feeling the whole new proclamation [I believe I scoffed when I first read that] and wrote it off. Because, really? A macaron? It’s just a pretentious cookie. A pretentious cookie that looks like Spongebob’s Pretty Patty.

But then the macaron just about exploded all over my computer. I was seeing them EVERYWHERE. On Yumsugar, Tastespotting, Serious Eats, everywhere and suddenly I became obsessed with making them, even though they do have a reputation of being temperamental, but that made me want to try it even more. Taming the diva of cookies? Who doesn’t want to do that?

I rolled the idea in my head for a while and then finally decided that I should probably try them out before making them, just so I knew what to expect. So I stumbled to the Ferry Building and picked up a few macarons from Miette: rose, chocolate, vanilla and I think strawberry. I forget since this was a few years ago. I was excited: I’d finally be able to try this dessert I had been hearing so much about and was sure I would like.

I took a bite and: nothing. They were not good. Well, that’s not true. They were just okay. The cookie was overwhelmingly meringuey and dry and just not appealing. Lindsey and I were not impressed and I was thoroughly disappointed. No way could this cookie be the next cupcake.

And so I dismissed the macaron and gave up on making them. Why would I make something that I wasn’t so excited about?

Then during our St. Helena eating tour I decided to give the macaron another shot while at Bouchon Bakery. And oh my goodness. Thomas Keller, you have made me a believer. I finally understood the deliciousness of the macaron. The cookie is light and chewy and totally not meringuey like the ones from Miette. It was just sweet enough and before I knew it, it was gone.

Oh Thomas Keller, how I love your heavenly macarons

Since then, I have become slightly obsessed with Bouchon’s macarons. So much that I’ve developed a sort of Pavlovian response to them. Especially with Bouchon only being a 30 minute drive from the house, it’s really easy [and tempting] to pop on over on a whim for a macaron fix. Yes, I am now quite adept at driving to Yountville for macarons.

I want to be best friends with Chef Keller because he must be awesome to make such an amazing cookie. Oh, my mouth is watering just thinking about those macarons. While I’m not relinquishing the cupcake’s throne as of yet, I do totally welcome the macaron into the pantheon of desserts.

Can I have my macaron now?

While at a picnic last weekend, someone asked me how my 5k went [fabulously, if you were curious] and how my running was going overall. Then they asked why I started running and someone else piped in and said, “It starts with A.”

‘A’ being the bf.

Let me make it clear that I do not run for the bf. Whenever I talk about starting a new workout routine or consciously making better eating choices, he makes sure that I’m doing this for the right reasons and I really appreciate that. He knows that I have a few areas that I am not too excited about and has always made sure to remind me that he loves me just the way I am and that my body is just fine. It’s nice and totally affirming knowing that he fully believes that I am just right.

That said, there are many reasons why I started running:

1) I want to be outside

After working out with Tony Horton and “the kids” on P90x for a couple of months, the weather started getting nicer and I got that urge to be outside. There I was sitting in my room working out while the sun was out and boy did that little kid in me want out so bad. Plus, I was getting a little weary of working out for 45+ minutes every other day and wished I could just run so I could be done in 30 minutes.

2) I want to remain active

While I am for the most part happy with myself [except for that one little area], I do not run to be skinny or lose weight [though it is a fabulous benefit] but to be active. I have always been active growing up and I’ve never been incredibly happy with myself whenever I sat around and been a schlub. I want to move around, I need to move around and running gives me that opportunity. I am much happier when I am engaged in an active lifestyle. I get such an amazing feeling of achievement whenever I finish a run, especially lately while I’m not working – running makes me feel productive.

3) I want to remain healthy

My dad has been a huge motivator for me. Seeing what he went through during the latter part of his life [he wasn't always as big as he was in his later years - remember, he was in the Army once upon a time) I want to be healthy and happy for as long as possible. I have the opportunity to do what I can now to make the necessary changes to my diet and activity level that will help ensure that I will be here for the bf and for our kids and our grandkids [and hopefully great-grandkids!]. I want the bf and I to share a long and happy life together. Since running is also good for cardiovascular health, I’m often reminded of my dad whenever I’m on my jogs. I need to take care of my heart now so it can continue to take care of me later.

4) I want to think…or not

Jogging also gives me a quiet moment to myself. When I run, it’s just me and my thoughts. I’m able to relax and not think about what is going on and just listen to the music or I can use that time to think about new ideas, what’s going on, what I need to do. I don’t have to worry about my mom asking me to do something or deal with any phone calls. It’s just me and the road.

5) I’m competitive and empowered

I am probably one of the most competitive people ever. I always want to win and be the best. The thing about jogging is no matter how good I get, I won’t ever really master it. There will always be more mileage I can add or more time I could shave off my overall time. There is always something to improve. Jogging is when I can happily “better my best” and still feel accomplished. I get to compete against myself. And sometimes Pat. But mostly, I love the empowering feeling I get when I do improve upon my current level. There’s nothing like pushing yourself to make that last quarter mile or seeing if you can  make it to the third stoplight before stopping for a walking break. I actually pat my stomach or pump my fist when I make it to my goal and especially when I surpass it.

If I ran for any other reason I don’t think I would still be as motivated to get out there and run. Sure there are some mornings when I shrug off and skip a day but that goes with the territory. At least I’m ready to go the next day. I honestly believe that this will be a lifelong habit for me and I’m looking forward to making that possible. Is it weird that I’m already wondering how long I’ll feasibly be able to jog whenever I get pregnant? And that won’t be happening for years! What can I say, I’m hooked on running.

One of the bigger highlights from my “summer in the Midwest” adventure was eating frog legs.

More accurately, I nibbled on a small portion of a frog’s leg.

I know what you’re thinking, how exactly did frog legs end up on the menu for a Fourth of July family BBQ? We’re not really sure but the bf’s aunt brought them along with a ginourmous cooler filled with fish. I didn’t know about the legs until I walked into the kitchen to see her cleaning the cooler contents and saw the sister playing with them.

People, the legs were connected to each other. Seriously. They looked like they could really small people legs! It doesn’t help any that the Aunt then started singing some song and making the legs dance around as if they were part of a chorus line.

Almost like this actually…

I was curious because I’m kind of reckless like that but apprehensive because I’m kind of scary like that. I was really curious as to whether or not it tastes like chicken like you always hear. The sister and I went back and forth on whether or not we would eat one, finally settling on if one tried it, the other would too. The family laughed at me since I was staring at the frogs legs for a  while, but that was just me sizing up the situation and making it a little less scary.

The aunt fried them on the grill and I finally worked up enough courage to try some [the sister had tried early but failed and the grandmother sampled some - if she could do it, how could I chicken out?].

My frogs leg eating twin

The verdict? They were okay. I maybe might try them again in a restaurant setting if someone else ordered them but I wouldn’t order them myself. They did have a slight chickenesque flavor to them but I tried fingering the exact taste but couldn’t. I was actually surprised that the bf sampled them as well, especially after he spent the better part of the afternoon refusing to do so whenever I asked.

At least I can cross this snack off my list of foods to try. I’m going to definitely earn that “Been there, Ate that” tshirt.

Yum?

I lived in Michigan for four years and never had a good Mexican meal. There was one restaurant near campus that I attempted to like my freshman year but ruled out because it wasn’t cutting it and one quick franchisey burrito joint that filled the role of Taco Bell without the post-meal regret: it wasn’t special but worked in a pinch.

Now, I’m not saying there isn’t any good Mexican in the entire state of Michigan, so if there is a place y’all swear by, please let me know so I can try it out, but as far as I know, there is no good Mexican food in Michigan. Michigan being Ann Arbor and Flint.

Yes, I attempted to eat Mexican food in Flint. What was I thinking? I have no clue but I had developed the most intense craving for chicken enchiladas that I was desperate to satisfy and couldn’t wait until I returned to California. Which was the next day. Patience is definitely not my virtue. We’ve covered this many times before.

Anywho, so the bf’s mom took us out to dinner and gave me the honor of choosing where to eat. For a normal person, this decision isn’t hard, especially since there aren’t too many restaurants in the Flint area to begin with. But pose this question to me and since I rarely ever desire a specific type of food, I’ll furrow my brow, stare, hem and haw until someone else makes the decision because my answer of “Food?” [yes, with the question mark] is not helpful in the slightest.

I asked if there were any good Mexican restaurants and we ended up at Tia Helita‘s in Burton. I’m not sure when I became so particular about my Mexican food considering that I’ll happily eat at Chevy’s. To be honest, I probably don’t really know what “good Mexican food” really is but I sure do know when it’s bad.

My grievances with this restaurant is long: the decor is stereotypical of a tacky Mexican restaurant: random sombreros, plastic “Cinco de Mayo” beer flag banners and images of the Virgin of Guadelupe. Plus it was really dark for some reason. Probably to make sure you don’t know what you’re supposed to be eating. So the food. In one word: bland. Mexican food is about the flavor and the spice and the heat and I got none of that. First problem: they served their unevenly fried and salted chips with salsa and canned nacho cheese.

Let me repeat that because I’m sure your indignation was as riled as mine: CANNED NACHO CHEESE. Who does that?!

Second problem: the bland food. My chicken enchiladas were lacking in every department. The sauce didn’t taste like anything except red, the chicken wasn’t seasoned at all and dry. The enchiladas were overstuffed in parts that when I cut into them, I’d end up with a wad of chicken on my fork. The rice was dry on top and pretty bland everywhere else and the refried beans started out tasting okay but then weren’t tasting like anything. To be serious, I kept looking around after just about every bite expecting to see Gordon Ramsey to bust into the dining room and tell me that they were serving me old refried beans.

I felt like a real jerk for requesting something only to be so critical later. Thankfully the bf admitted he didn’t like the food either and we had a good laugh about it. I definitely learned one thing: next time I’m in a mood for Mexican food, I’m just going to go to Red Robin for a burger.