Dining In.

Since I have recently learned that 'Lazy Sunday' is more preferable to a 'Sunday Funday', especially come Monday morning, I have taken to making a cozy dinner for two (or sometime three or four) as opposed to passing out after far too many bottomless mimosas imbibed over the course of brunch on a patio.
I do, however, miss a good bloody mary. So, as a result - I created a Bloody Mary themed dinner menu last weekend, which was, if I do say so myself, quite delish. It may sound a bit odd, but the flavors all work together, a la a Bloody Mary, and it was really quite easy.
Mind you, these aren't my recipes, though I tweaked them a bit (and that's what you're reading) but the combination of the two were a hit!

Behold!

Penne Pasta with Spinach & Bacon, with a side of Lemon Horseradish New Potatoes.

Serves 4, with a side of warm French bread and butter.

Begin with the potatoes, and make the pasta while they cook.
(The toughest part about cooking is making sure everything is done at the same time!)

Penne Pasta with Spinach and Bacon
1 (12oz) package of Penne
2 tbs olive oil, divided
6 slices of bacon
2 tbs minced garlic
1 (14oz) can diced tomatoes (drained)
1 bunch fresh spinach, torn into bite sized pieces
Grated Parmesan cheese to taste

1. Bring a large pot of lightly salted water to boil. Cook penne as per directions on the box.

2. Meanwhile, heat 1 tbs olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. Place (cut up & separated  bacon in skillet and cook until browned and crisp. Add garlic and  and cook for about a minute. Stir in tomatoes and cook until heated through. 

3. Place spinach in a colander and drain hot pasta over it so it wilts. (Though, be careful not the let all the pasta dump on it at once, drain mainly the water, as to not over cook the 'nach.)

4. Transfer to a large serving bowl and toss with the remaining olive oil and the bacon/tomato mixture.

Sprinkle with Parm to your liking.

Lemon Horseradish New Potatoes
1/2 cup butter
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper
2 tbs prepared horseradish 
2 tbs fresh lemon juice
1 1/2 lbs small new potatoes, unpeeled.

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

2. Melt the butter in a small pan, over a low burner. Stir in salt, pepper, horseradish and lemon juice. 

3. Put potatoes in a 2 qt casserole dish and cover with melted butter sauce, mixing and coating them evenly. 

4. Cover with tin foil, and bake for 1 hour, or until tender.

It was all quite delish - and even though it is B.M. inspired, it is not at all bloody mary-esque. I just originally used that as a litmus of sorts to decide whether or not the two recipes worked together.
And they sure as Hell did

And yes, I'm boring now. Next up: An etiquette section!

Dahlink! You just cannot wear those shoes to an afternoon tea!

No but seriously, I would love that. I love that shit. If you have any burning questions feel free to put 'em in the comments. It'll give me something to do.

Outbound.

 'I really like who we have grown up to be.'

A Little Emerald to the Diamond.

Writers are narcissists: They presume that their personal obsessions and neuroses are of deep fascination — or even beneficial — to potentially millions of people.

- Brian McGreevy, in his article, 'Don't Call Lena Dunham Brave'. 

I'm a "writer". Please insert your own airquotes.
And with that in mind, know that I have written and rewritten this post a couple times this morning.
I have also embraced the fact that I am a bit of a narcissist. "A bit."
I am comfortable with that as well.

So, all morning, as I have reheated my coffee while I researched brain functions and hemispheres and was going to try and propose that women (and by women, I mean me and hopefully whoever else it is who reads this little blog) have three parts to their brains, until I realized that all people have three parts to their brains. (The cerebellum, the cerebrum and the brain stem.)
I was going to try and say that the Left Side controls reason and the right hand, the Right Side controls imagination and the left hand, and a (self)Center section that controls all that is the self-centered and unreasonable that goes on in our brains. (Hopefully, this section does not control our mouths.)
But then I realized that that too is silly.
Hell, forget the Conscious & the Unconscious or the Ego, the Superego and the Id.
It's all a weak analogy for one simple thing.
Like most of my postings, all I am doing is trying to find a related metaphor for the emotions that make me feel really uncomfortable; in this case, under the guise of pseudoscientific jargon in order to justify or dissect what exactly it is I am feeling. 

Because, my neuroses are of deep fascination to potentially [seven] people. Right? Right?!?

Why am I uncomfortable with my emotions today, the day after Valentine's Day?
Because one of my very Best Friends got engaged yesterday.
On top of a mountain covered in snow.

I am over the moon happy for her. 
She deserves love and a beautiful wedding and marriage.
I love her! She's one of my very Best Friends!
Captial BFF!

That being said, the event caused an avalanche of the 'What about Meeeeeees?!?'

Which is one, very selfish, and two, very embarrassing.
So the psuedoscientific babble, the justification of it all - The whole rumble of emotions that took over in the moment, they make me flat out uncomfortable.
I realized that it is not a third, yet to be discovered, part of my brain, nor is it my sub-id or whateverego.
The fact of the matter is simple: I am Jealous. 
Not totally unlike a mentally ill person who knows that the voices in their head are Crazy but cannot help but follow their directions, you see. I know that it is immature and stupid to be jealous of such a wonderful thing, but I cannot seem to follow that knowledge's directions.
And in writing this so plainly, I am trying to exorsize those crazy making voices of envy a little.

To be perfectly honest, I couldn't help but wonder (no matter how unrealistic I knew it was) if maybe Valentine's Day would be the day he asked me.
I thought this about Christmas too.
Its these thoughts that you have that you know (you know!) are crazy, that you know aren't realistic, and you literally have to talk yourself down through reason and logic (Oh hel-lo Left Brain, welcome to the party) and even then, part of the thought persists.

I'll probably think it about my birthday, our anniversary  any nice dinner ever or weekend trip, I assure you. I can't help it; I want it so much, it's unwavering. It's in these moments that I get frustrated that he was married before, and engaged quickly the first time. As though somehow, if that hadn't been the case, our timeline would be different. While the reasonable, logical side of me knows that if that hadn't been case in the first place, we may not even be together. Regardless, the thought persists.

green with.

So, when I saw this momentous event in my newsfeed, for a person I love so much, I was (and am) happy.
And then...

I was jealous. 

I cannot be the only one who finds them feeling this way every once and while at the sight of these things in their newsfeed or text inbox, right? Right?!

I was overcome by shame for my jealously, but alas, that did not make it go away.
It stuck in my chest, and produced the most unflattering semi-permanent facial expression and then unfortunately, because I knew that my boyfriend was not going to propose, and my boyfriend did not propose, my Valentine's Day was somehow sub-par.
Which is really unlike me, as I am typically pretty good about not putting too high of expectations on events or holidays like this - rather focusing on what I can control as opposed to what I cannot.
It's not Jim's fault that I was bummed this Valentine's.
I wasn't even bummed, we had a lovely evening at home (our home!) together.
He made me a sweet Valentine & I did the same for him.
It was exactly what we had planned - low key with tacos and tv.

whomp.

He didn't get me flowers, and his Valentine was made from copy paper and Scotch tape, and I was disappointed. Because she got a 2.2 carat ring & I am jealous of that, and so then something that any other day I would think was the sweetest thing (it had a poem, you guys!) all of the sudden doesn't have the same (ahem) sparkle.

The whole of it makes me feel adolescent and shallow. And, very very ashamed.
The whole of it also wants to have pity party in my bathtub with bottle of Vueve and a good cry, but I will not give my jealousy the satisfaction. I will not, I tell you! 
All of the sudden, my boyfriend's inability to tell me that he 'loves me more than anything ever in his life in the entire world over' is not because he simply doesn't speak in such hyperbole about his feelings (something I know about him, and typically respect) becomes he doesn't love me as much as I thought.
Somehow yesterday, 'To the moon and back four times' wasn't enough. It was all I could do not to turn to my boyfriend and say point blank, 'I'm jealous of...' with a pouty face, but I knew to keep that one in.

The truth is, I am jealous. Even though I know it's stupid.
Even though I know that Jim loves me. 
And, most importantly, even though I am happy for my friend. 
It persists.

Yet, in the light of a day I didn't even put much weight into to begin with, under the reflection of a grandiose gesture of love and a lifetime of commitment, not only am I jealous that I didn't get a proposal, but now I didn't even get flowers. Even though, I know that my sometimes too pragmatic boyfriend probably thought to himself, if he thought about it at all, 'Why would I get her flowers? We already have flowers.' (We always have flowers.) Honestly, I wasn't expecting anything other than tacos and a Valentine up until the morning off. And then, it's not enough? I do wonder how much the boy picked up on - I oft think that I am being so opaque - playing it super cool - then later find out exactly how transparent I truly am.
This is an emotion I am not accustomed to feeling; and I know that with time it will fade - I expect by sometime around 2 or 3 pm this afternoon - but for the moment, for the morning, I am trying to work through it.

This gang of immature emotions, this gang I can't seem to shake, its just about to jump me in.

So, I decided to fight it. I fight it by doing this.

And that's the best I can do, right?

Funny.
Even in the time of writing this, the feelings started to fade. I could tell, because I just started to get really excited about the specifics that go along with throwing a bridal shower.

And I feel as though I should note that I am in no way am trying to take away from my friend's engagement, and am truly very very happy for her, but this is my platform, and sometimes the view from the perch that is my brain - made up of three parts - is not the prettiest. Or the most mature. 
I am - from my core - so happy for you, James. 
I love you. 
Thats why this is so frickin' uncomfortable.
Also, you better let me pin to your wedding board, or else. 
I should also mention that I will not drink anything, anything! out of a penis shaped straw.

Shhhhhh.

I have a secret. 

No no no, I'm not getting married. 
I have a Secret Wedding pin board on Pinterest*. 
I'm so Ashamed. 

*Yes, I'm talking about Pinterest, like its a 'real thing'.

 Because it is. 

And I'm a smug Pinner too - like, 

'Whatever bitches, I actually do the stuff I pin.'

Take note, I also have an entire board devoted to shoes.

Smugly pinned, I promise. 

Actually, its quite fun, because my Baby Sister can pin to it as well, & I'm in love with how well she knows my taste. Funny story actually. When she first started pinning to my Not Too Secret Board, she randomly pinned a dress by a Southern California designer that I like, Stone_Cold_Fox. I have a few pieces from their collections already, but she didn't know that. She just thought I would like the dress. Not only did I like the dress, I had actually inquired about that specific gown a long long time ago, in my past life, when I thought I was maybe/one day/perhaps/someday going to marry the Ex of 5 Years.  I had already once thought, 

That should be my wedding dress.

What are the odds?

Oh ho ho, it gets a bit weirder. (Why I wrote 'oh ho ho' is beyond me, but I'm leaving it, though I have never once said that outloud*.)

*I hope.

Fast forward a couple days, and one of my old shopgirl cohorts is sitting pretty at my dining room table, drinking a glass of chardonnay while we're collecting all of her ideas together for her own upcoming nuptials. 

I quickly let her in on my Secret and show her the dress that my Baby Sister had pinned - she's quite familiar with the designer herself.

My strawberry blonde Bride looks at the photo & laughs,

'Oh! I took that photo.' 

My Baby Sister blindly pinned a dress from her couch in Oakland, a dress that I pined for in Long Beach many years ago, a dress from a collection photographed by my dear friend in Dana Point.

Kooky, no?

Cue, Its a smaaaallll world after all!

So there you have it. 
I have a secret wedding board.
I've become my own cliche. 
Ah well, we all have our lame-o hypocrisies.

I waaannnntt tooo maaarryyy yoouuu.

You know what bothers me though? 
Is how much it used to piss me off when people would say, in response to my I Don't Ever Want To Get Married!s, that when I found the One, I'd change my mind. 
It was so... Ah, I don't know the word, not condescending but kind of condescending (what's the word for that?) and I hated it and would get defensive (even though I wanted them to be right) and they were (right), which means I was wrong, which is not an easy thing for me to admit. 

I was wrong!  

All You People were right! 

It probably also means that whomever it was I was dating at the time of shouting that nonsense from the rooftops, I didn't ever want to marry them. 
So instead of thinking, 

'Well shit. I should break up with this person who I don't want to make a lifelong commitment to', 

I just said, 

Eh, I don't want to make a lifelongcommitenttoYOU  ever get married'   

And continued dating them. Probably because I thought I didn't want to get married.

So, my sister has amazing taste. S'riously. 

And I can't keep a secret from Jim, I told him about the Secret Wedding Board too, because I had to tell him about the weirdness of the SCF dress. 
So, he knows I am a weirdo. 
What he doesn't know is that sometimes when he's sleeping a stare at him and think 'I waaaaannnttt ttoooo maaaarrrrrryy yoooouuuuu'. 

Let's not tell him that part. 
Its not relevant to the story. 

Unless I'm telling a story about what a creepy girlfriend I am. (Actually, I think that is exactly the story I'm telling.)



So. I'm a creep. 
A Creep with a  Secret PinBoard Wedding Creepy Creeper. 
And that makes me happy.


Sidenotes:
See more of my strawberry blonde Bride's photos Here. 
(She also did the panoramic shot that has always sat atop this little project.)

And follow my Pinterest Here if you're so inclined. 
(But not my Secret Board, entitled 'Creeper' obviously).