Impatiently Tapping My Foot

...in anticipation of the "real" spring weather. I know, I know, in two weeks, we (meaning you crazy people who dislike the heat) will all be bitching that we skipped spring and jumped right into the sticky humidity. Such is life on the east coast. Still, I'm eagerly awaiting 70 degree days and 50 degree nights, even if they only last for a day or two.

This weekend, it felt like CPM and I were on vacation. We did a lot of work around the house, but still managed to eat out more than we would normally on your "average" weekend. First, CPM took me to breakfast on Saturday morning. He owed me one. The weekend prior, he had passed a late night comment about "going to breakfast in the morning." Then we woke up and when I asked what we were doing, he told me to cook. Man, that really ticked me off! You know how you fall asleep anticipating your next meal? (What? Is that only me?) Well, to wake up and find out that I wasn't getting fancy coffee and treats was super irritating. Especially since Mr. Spouse happily snoozed away while I prepped the pancakes and tempeh bacon. Arg! So, to correct his mistake, on Saturday, he took me to Green Eggs Cafe in Northern Liberties. This was our second visit. (It has easily become one of our top five breakfast spots.) We always strategize our breakfast order...we both get a savory dish, and then we split a sweet as "dessert." This order: Veggie Benedict, Egg White Omelet with Mushrooms and Tomatoes, and Sticky Bun French Toast.



We did a whole bunch of stuff on Saturday (me: cleaning and food shopping, him, electrical work), then he took me to dinner. Trust me, this is only normal when we have house guests or are on vacation, I never expect two "out" meals in one day. Nevertheless, we found ourselves at Gunner's Run early on Saturday evening. Me: Vegan Sloppy Joes. Him: Panko Fried Cod. Verdict: Delicious. Secondary Verdict: Will be stealing pickle recipe. They are AMAZING.





On Sunday, I cooked breakfast. Just threw together some eggs benedict. You, know, eggs benedict is so quick and easy, I don't know why I don't make it every day. Actually, I really wanted to try out my new poachpods. I've tried the normal egg poaching methods, the whirlpool, the vinegar in the water, etc. My poached eggs still ended up looking like snot. These poachpod things are great! Just lube them up a touch, crack the eggs into the pods, float them in boiling water, cover, and five minutes later you have perfectly poached eggs.





We also have a new Sunday tradition. It's called "Pizza Sunday." Yes, we go out for pizza on Sunday night (or we have for the last five Sundays in a row, at least). We've been frequenting Pizzeria Stella. The pizza there is fantastic, if a little bit pricey. I'm not sure how long pizza Sunday will last...it's the one day of the week where I don't feel rushed to prep a meal, so I normally enjoy cooking. Pizza Sunday might just become Pizza Tuesday. Which would be a nice predecessor to Thai Wednesday. (What, you don't do Thai Wednesday?)

Connection Found

I know all six readers of this blog are hungering to know the outcome of CPM's missed connection. Did he run away with the pizza girl? Did I go all psycho on her ass and send her copies of our wedding photos? Was it in fact just a juvenile prank by CPM's buddies? Relax people. You will get your answers.

CPM actually went to the same pizza place for lunch three times this week. (Yes, he did.) On the first visit, our mystery girl was not working. On the second, she was working, but he didn't say anything. Finally, yesterday, on a solo visit, he worked up the courage to do this:

CPM: What's your name?
Girl: Becky (not her name, name has been changed to protect the innocent)
CPM (smiling trademark CPM grin, blue eyes probably charmingly sparkly): If I told you that I was not an electrician would that mean anything to you? (I gave him kudos for being so cute and not creepy at this moment.)
Becky: OMG, you saw that?

CPM proceeded to laugh and tell her that he was extraordinarily flattered, that he was an old married man, and really thought that his buddies were pranking him. I'm sure the girl was embarrassed. (Side note: can't wait to go get pizza with CPM in tow!)

Once CPM shared the tale with me, we laughed a lot about how I need to go in and tell that girl that she needs to give me free pizza. In fact, we decided that I am actually doing the world a favor by keeping CPM off the market...he's extremely high maintenance and is a total pervert. (His favorite twitter feeds include Girls in Yoga Pants and Iced T's wife Coco for her trademark Thong Thursday posts.) Dear women of the world, send your gifts to my attention in thanks.

The end.

This is my husband.

This person right here. This is my husband CPM. He has decided to join the blogosphere. God save us all.

For the past fourteen years I have been on the receiving end of many of his witticisms. He loves to make people laugh, often at my expense. It's part of his charm. I have often been told by people close to me that I am far too serious, that I don't smile or laugh enough. This is the absolute truth. You know something is funny if you HEAR me laughing. My typical laugh looks a lot like my typical scowl. I fear that I will end up looking like my Gram as I age: her lips were always pursed into the meanest face, and yet, she was (mostly) the sweetest lady (with a taste for candy that I sadly did not inherit...I could always count on her to try and offer me a lollipop that she had stashed in her purse, gotten from the bank teller.)

CPM and I met in College. While we had both attended the same high school, he graduated a year ahead of me, and with six thousand students in the school, our paths just never crossed. Thus, I had no idea who he was when I got to College...I was actually dating someone else when we met. On the day of our first meeting, in the dormitory dining hall, he sat at a table with a tray loaded with six different bowls of cereal.

Understand this: he was a commuter student, free loading with a mutual dorm friend. The unlimited cereal section of the dining hall was CPM's favorite spot. He was, and still is, a fan of the cereal. I approached the table where CPM sat, since I knew some other folks sitting with him, current boyfriend in tow, we sat, and I proceeded to have the best time. CPM cracked joke after joke, poking fun at my then boyfriend, making me laugh so hard that my cheeks were hurting. I should have known then that we would end up married, but it took a little time, a drama filled break up with the other guy, some miscellaneous group hang outs, and finally, a date to a gay dance club to cement the deal. If I ever run into the gay guy who cajoled CPM into kissing me (to prove his hetero-ness) while we waited in line to get our jackets from the coat check, I should hug him. Or punch him. Depending on my mood.

On his most recent blog entry, CPM writes of an incident that took place a few weeks back on our homestead. I am holding off on addressing said incident and its fallout for a bit longer. Due to my superstitious nature, I feel compelled to reserve discussion until certain scheduled events resulting from said incident have actually occurred. But once those events have come to fruition, I will let loose with all that I have been holding in reserve.

Until then...

I married an actual maniac.

On Thursday last, I went to watch my husband play a little show in NYC.



CPM and I are such total opposites. I hate being the center of the attention. The few times that I have been on stage in my life, I have been absolutely terrified. CPM is a natural performer. I am in awe of his musical talent and ability to make an entire room full of people laugh. He made me laugh hysterically on the first day that we met. This is no small feat, when you consider that I mostly laugh "on the inside," and rarely let a full guffaw escape my lips.





So, here's a moment from that show he played on Thursday night at Webster Hall. I have my own video, but it's on my iPhone and I'm too lazy to upload it at the moment. Also, this person's video sounds much better than mine.



Edit to add: My videos are here, here, and here. The sound goes away sometimes. I think the iPhone is too much of a pussy to handle the rock.

Change! Is! Good!

Hey, internet, I cut my hair:


Well, I didn't do it personally. Patrick at Gary Charles did it. And he did a great job, I think. I haven't had my hair this short in about 7 years. I'm still doing the double take whenever I pass a reflective surface and catch a glimpse of my profile. I'm also remembering my cow-licks. Hey cow-licks! Nice to see you again. Thanks for sticking up straight in the air like bug antennae!

***This is transition people...perhaps I should write more than one blog post per week!

Last week was CPM's 33rd birthday. I got him lots of little stuff, nothing big. For instance, he asked for a vintage Gibson Trini Lopez guitar. Instead he got a freezer paper stencil t-shirt of our dog's silhouette.

Yeah, I'm just a good gift giver, if by "good" you mean someone who will just give you what I think you should get and not what you ask for. But I took him to Blue Sage for dinner. And we ate like kings! Kings! See below:
Thai Carrot Bisque

Salad Casbah

Macadamia Black Bean Cakes

Hazlenut Toffee Basket (aka my favorite dessert, ever)


There were also nachos, but the photo was awful. I told you we ate like kings.

***More transition...seriously, more than one post would probably be a good idea.

I had off from work last Friday. I was able to food shop! I made dinner. Holy moley, it was good. Thank you, Veganomicon.

Baked Orange Tofu with Quinoa Mango Black Bean Salad


I did some major substituting in the quinoa salad. I used red onions instead of scallions, olive oil instead of grape seed oil, apple cider vinegar instead of red wine vinegar. It was still incredible. I want to try to eat like this more regularly. But then I mess up my vow to be healthy and make something like this...


Nutella Ice Cream

Delicious! Delicious! Delicious! And not healthy at all! But delicious!