Archive | October, 2011

Here’s hoping you get Snickers instead of raisins

31 Oct

Happy Halloween!

(go to 1:21)

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You’re never too old for drinking games

30 Oct

When a certain E! reality star had the audacity to announce that she was getting married on the same day as Princess, we quickly decided that this other so-called “fairy tale” wedding might as well not exist.  Oh no; there would be only one happily ever after for this crew on August 20, 2011.

Fast forward six weeks, once said impertinence had subsided, and (of course!) there’s a 4-hour wedding special set to premiere.  Throw in appetizers and cocktails and this just screams girls’ night in.  It took us almost another month to coordinate our busy (read: popular) weekend schedules but we finally got together last night…just in time to avoid not only an early season storm but also the slutty sailors, slutty policemen, slutty kittens, slutty nurses, slutty princesses, slutty devils, slutty superheros, slutty French maids, slutty bunnies, slutty flight attendants and slutty school girls (are we noticing a pattern here…?) that Halloween weekend is always bound to bring.

Clad in black and white, to honor Kim and Kris’s wedding attire, our very own Kardashian Wedding Extravaganza was on! As with most things with these girls, it started with the menu:

– fennel, sausage, arugula and white bean crostini

– baked Buffalo chicken bites with blue cheese yogurt dip

– stuffed mushrooms (chopped and constructed in excruciating detail!)

– garlic balsamic roasted red cherry tomatoes

caprese skewers with balsamic vinegar

– cranberry, walnut and feta salad

– and of course…absolut pear vodka champagne cocktails!

 Before we hit “play” on our hostess’s Tivo for the first of both 2-hour specials (that’s right, we had quite the night ahead of us), the rules:

1.  Every time Kim says “oh my god!”, drink.

2.  Every time Khloe’s language gets “bleeped”, drink.

3.  Every time Kourtney rolls her eyes at Scott, drink.

Somewhere around the third hour, and with two simple statements, the rules changed: anytime Scott or Kris say something entertaining, drink.  You know, like this…

Scott:

“Oh suck me dry [realizing he’s talking to his girlfriend], Beautiful”

Kris:

“Kim, four years ago you were selling clothes in a boutique in the valley.”

Well, hello there boys!

Although these two Kardashians-by-association brought my buzz to a new level, even they were sadly unable to answer my lingering questions:

– Why did the special show more footage of Kris Jenner’s face lift than the actual wedding?

– Why are the cookie jars in Khloe and Lamar’s house so big?

– Does Kim really sleep in white sheets with that much makeup?

– Why is Kourtney dressed like a Geisha (who takes wheat grass shots before bed)?

– Does this black and white decor look unpleasantly gaudy or is it just me?

– Who invited Lindsay Lohan?

– Wait, do these two (the bride and groom) even like each other…?

This is how I feel about this week

28 Oct

Things at work are just insane.  Damn EOY planning!  And next week is looking the same.  Oy vey.

I definitely need one of these

Anderson loves Ice Loves Coco

25 Oct

Some are convinced I have an unhealthy obsession with Anderson Cooper.  I probably do.  But seriously, how can I not?  Anderson Cooper might watch more TV than I do…

“The truth is, as you probably know, I will watch just about anything on TV.  I have lost many a productive Saturday afternoon to shamed-based TV watching.  Real Housewives marathons.  I even watch Ice Loves Coco.  Yeah.  And man does she love him.”

I just want to invite him over to watch TV with me!

Icy karma

22 Oct

I can’t tell you how many times in the last 16 months I’ve been told “What goes around, comes around” or “Karma’s a bitch”.  Innumerable.  Too many to count.  Endless.  Well I officially believe it now.

No, my ex was not just left at the altar.  Nor did his potential new girlfriend just break his heart (I technically don’t know or care if she actually exists).  The source of this confirmed karma, then?  Ice cubes.  Yes, ice cubes.

When I would come home in college and grad school, I was notorious (to my mother) for never refilling the ice cube trays.  That’s right; the crime of all crimes – I would put ice cube trays back in the freezer with one or fewer ice cubes in them.  I can’t explain.  I don’t have an excuse.  I just did not like refilling the ice cube trays with water.  So, there just never were ice cubes in my mother’s house.  As long as I was home.

Well go figure then (karma!) that I landed myself a roommate who never makes ice.  Beyond never.  What’s longer than never?  That’s how often she makes ice cubes.  There are about eight trays in our freezer and I would confidently estimate that at any given time, six of them do not have ice cubes in them.  I can’t say, even as I’m rolling my eyes, that it ever upsets me though.  I always laugh or smile to myself and think of my mother – and her exasperated response every time she went into the freezer for ice after me.  In the very, very least, I can admit I deserve this.  (There are few bad things in my life that I will admit to actually deserving but this is one of them!  Karma, right?!)

PS: This is my 300th post!!  I wish I could hide it better but I am so proud of myself!  Who would have guessed way back when that I would still be banging away at my laptop?  Thanks to everyone who has read, supported or been featured (repeatedly!) as the subject(s) of my posts.  Here’s to the next 300…and that much more of my very own Unwedded Bliss!

Hope floats

21 Oct

I ordered at the office today from one of those everything-Asian cuisine places.  This is usually an unforgivable violation in my book; there is something utterly wrong – in my opinion – about being able to order Pad Thai, chicken and broccoli and sushi rolls from the same place (but today I was slightly hungover and desperate).  So as wrong as it was, there was a fortune cookie with my Pho (Vietnamese soup, my bro turned me onto it and I’ve been obsessed since); here it is:

“There are plenty of promises and hope floating around you.”

My first thought?  I hope one of those promises is tall, dark and handsome.  I swear it was the hangover…

Still, it was a better fortune than the first time my girlfriend and I ordered Chinese post-broken engagement; my cookie came without a fortune (highly appropriate at the time) and hers with a fortune we didn’t understand.  Go figure.

Something comforting

19 Oct

It was a combination of things that led me in the direction of tonight’s last-minute project: homemade French onion soup.  First, I blame/thank one of my closest girlfriends; she spent a solid 48-hour period talking about French onion soup last week and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.  If we would have been at McFadden’s on Sunday instead of actually at the game, I would have ordered it.  But we weren’t, were we?  Second, the weather in New York today is miiiiiiserable.  Temperatures apparently reached into the low 60’s but I can’t confirm that as we had our lunch delivered to avoid the nonstop rain that made the city, and my eventual walk home, a virtual slip ‘n slide.  Finally, I’m enforcing a self-imposed ban on takeout.  The delivery guys from Pita Grill and Akane Sushi not only know my name but also know which doorman to expect on duty which night of the week.  This is clearly suboptimal and needs to change.  I’ve said it before but I mean it this time.

So all signs pointed to making a comfort food-inspired dinner tonight and in honor of my girlfriend, French onion soup it is!

Now when you need a recipe, if the first place you go isn’t TasteSpotting, well, you need to rethink your life decisions.  But definitely don’t peruse it if you’re remotely hungry – it’s an incredibly visual site and will absolutely make you think you’re famished by the time to click to page two.  After checking out several recipes for the soup (and simultaneously convincing myself I haven’t eaten since last Tuesday), I found exactly the recipe that I wanted – not too overwhelming and not above my skill level (which granted, is not high…)

Here it is:

French Onion Soup

Ingredients

  • 1 pound yellow onions, halved and thinly cut lengthwise
  • 3-5 springs of fresh thyme
  • 1 bay leaf
  • ½ teaspoon paprika (more for dusting)
  • ½ teaspoon sea salt
  • Fresh cracked pepper
  • 1 teaspoon all-purpose flour
  • ½ cup dry white wine
  • 2 cups beef stock (I used low sodium)
  • 1 cup water
  • 1½ inch-thick slice of ciabatta bread cut in half
  • 2 teaspoons unsalted butter
  • 1½ cups grated Swiss Gruyere cheese (YUM)

In heavy 5-quart pot melt the butter over low heat.  Add the onions, paprika, thyme, bay leaf, and salt and pepper to taste and cook until the onions are deep amber and exceedingly soft, stirring occasionally, 25 to 30 minutes.  Add the flour and cook for 1 to 2 minutes, then add the wine, increase the heat, and let the wine bubble away for 2 to 3 minutes.  Add the beef stock and water, and let the soup simmer for 25 to 30 minutes, allowing the flavors to meld together.  Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Preheat oven to broil.  Arrange a rack in the middle of the oven.  Place the ciabatta on the middle rack of the oven and toast until crispy, about 2 to 3 minutes per side.

Remove the bay leaf and thyme sprigs from the soup and discard.  Pour the soup into two ovenproof bowls, float the toasted ciabatta on top, and cover it with a thick layer of the Gruyere.  Put the soup bowls under the broiler on the middle rack and cook 3 to 5 minutes, or until the cheese is fully melted and golden.  Sprinkle the top with a touch of paprika. [source]

I can’t think of anything more comforting than bread and cheese (or the glass of Pinot I enjoyed with it!) – I think this project was a success!

What do you think???

I pulled a box off my bookshelf after dinner; it hasn’t been opened since the day I moved into this apartment.  It was a box that once held special birthday wishes, pictures, engagement cards; items of little value to anyone other than me but that personal value, immeasurable.  Last week I ended one of my posts with “Prepare yourself for just how tough things are about to get.”  This statement left me thinking about this box, particularly because I knew of the post-engagement, heartbreaking (and heartwarming) cards and notes of encouragement in it.  There was one in particular that I was looking for tonight; just because, even in the post terrible of terrible moments, it always made me smile.

So there I was digging through this box when I came across the last thing I ever expected.  A picture of my ex-fiancé and I; smiling, eyes bright, glowing tans at my cousin’s wedding – sweepingly happy.  And behind it, a cork from the first bottle of wine we shared on our trip to Paris in late January 2008.  I had completely forgotten about this torturous contraband!

I can say with certainty last summer that as I packed up the last five years of my life, I tried to throw away every last piece of the life my ex and I once shared.  And while the engagement cards and announcements were long gone, I had consciously kept these two items; I hadn’t kept anything that represented our failed engagement or ultimately doomed almost-marriage but instead two simple items from what – at the time – represented effortlessly happy moments in my life.

Fear not!  Tonight I immediately put both items in the garbage and then covered them with (French) onion (soup) peelings and dirty paper towels.  Just in case that third glass of wine tempted me…

Now back to my original reason for taking this blue and gold fabric covered box from my bookshelf.  A short note from my then 13-year-old cousin.  Something from someone who was really a child at the time, but who gave me perspective that I would never have believed myself capable of just three weeks after my engagement ended:

“Hi Katie.  How are you?  Are you okay?  I am here if you need someone to talk to.  I send you a mail hug.  That was wrong of [Fiancé] to do that.  I know you don’t want to hear this but I guess he just was not the right guy for you.  He does not deserve you if he is going to do that.  There are still a lot of guys out there.  You know I love you Katie and always will.  Mr. Right will come along at the right time and place but when you least expect it.  Remember that Katie.  You will find a true love.  I love you Katie and hope you feel better but it’s going to hurt for a while.  Your loving cousin, [Cousin]”

Of course, the $100 check that her parents, my aunt and uncle, put in the envelope to go out and “get wasted” didn’t hurt either!  Seriously though, someday I hope she reads this (when she’s old enough!) and understands just how much her letter meant to me….even the smiley faces at the bottom of the page that she drew “just to make you laugh!”