CLAMPDOWN

Tuesday night, I met some girlfriends for dinner.

Talk immediately turned to the wedding I just attended and the bridesmaid's dress. More importantly, appropriate foundations. We all grew up in a culture where women wore girdles while pregnant, to give you some background.

So, I told them the story of my amazing spandex garment, a vulcanized rubber (not really) contraption that got me through my own wedding, panties (hah!) going down to the thighs and up to just under the bra -- crotch cut out by moi for easy bathroom ventures (a trick I learned from my little sister, who went shopping with me for said garment).

Picture this: getting ready for a wedding in a wood-paneled motel room (clean and cute and roomy) with a tiny bathroom. The room had an air conditioner but it didn't sufficiently cool the bathroom. Not for the ensuing spandex contraption wrestling. So, there's Andy getting ready for the wedding in the room and me, looking at the dress, the spandex, the tiny bathroom and finally conceding that the contraption will have to be put on in the same room as my husband.

"Don't look!" I tell him, more like command him.

"What?" He says, turning around.

"YOU CAN'T LOOK! TURN AROUND!" I shriek.

After a good wrestle, I have the contraption on, but it needs a little something so, while standing behind Andy's back I instruct him not to look at me but to yank up the back of the contraption -- yes, without looking.

He obliges. I married a good one.

We laugh and laugh because, even if you have not been in that situation, you can imagine it.

Then everyone shares stories of spandex and I tell them that I have found the ultimate garment: a tunic-length camisole that sucks you in like no tomorrow! It's my new best friend.

The girls oh and ah at my find and make me promise to send them the det's (brand, store, etc) when I get home.

We talk about how we've been tempted to buy the "belly band" for our pants, even though we're not in the maternity way. I tell them how I'm tempted to send my jeans into that company that will convert them into maternity jeans with a simple addition of an elastic band. We laugh at the cute line of maternity clothes at Target -- that has a huge following of women who aren't pregnant. The only thing that stops us from purchasing such clothes is their popularity -- what would be worse than someone recognizing the clothing line?

That's when I decide to confess -- I am known for my confessions (always at my expense and the more embarrassing the better). I also bought, and was wearing, control-panel jeans. Which lead to many questions about their construction and the one pitfall -- yes, it sucks in the gut but it accentuates the muffin-top. Oh, the things we do to ourselves.

There's no turning back now!

NEVER GIVE YOU UP

There's nothing like a wedding to make you think about life and relationships and your own marriage and the marriages of those around you.

This weekend, I was honored to stand up in my good friend's wedding. It was a destination wedding and people literally took planes, trains and automobiles to get there. Nothing about this wedding was easy or convenient. However, my friend, the bride, was happy -- ecstatic -- and so content with her life that, no matter what, it was worth it. Her whirlwind romance surprised many mutual friends, who were not kind in their opinions but at least kind enough to, for the most part, keep them to themselves.

Andy and I have been married a little over 5 months now. We are finally planning our roadtrip honeymoon -- actually mapped out the route (more or less, since we like to be flexible and open to whatever comes our way) and bought the plane tickets for the starting and ending points (one end of the country to the other, and many places in between). I am really looking forward to this trip -- our trip. After last weekend, it just proves that we are so meant for each other, it's kinda sick.

I'm excited too because we've decided to "pull the goalie" and try and have a baby. So, I'm on a plan to get as healthy as possible and lose some extra weight to make things easier. I'm a little older and not sure how successful babymaking will be for us, but I won't know until I try.

I'm ready to try and so is he. Which is good, because he'd make a wonderful father and there's some kid out there who deserves to call him "dad".

The Best Medicine

Last night was "date night" for Andy and I, as we try to make every Wednesday. We've been doing that pretty much since we met -- now over 3 years ago! (Happy Anniversary to us.)

I made a vegetable ragout that included farmers' market finds (purple, orange and white cauliflower) and Swiss chard and herbs from our garden (chives, thyme, sage). It had every color of the rainbow, except blue. It was beautiful and tasty.

Then I surprised him with dessert -- macarons. They are my current obsession, ever since I put this book on Andy's amazon wishlist and he surprised me with it (subtle hints win again!):





This time, they were vanilla macarons with a raspberry & dark-chocolate ganache filling. I surprised Andy with 2 heart-shaped macarons. Actually, I surprised myself too since my piping worked and I was able to make 4 similarly-sized heart-shaped shells. Andy said they reminded him of the macarons we had on our honeymoon -- that I was finally getting it right.

Because macarons are difficult to make. Do any amount of internet research on the subject and see for yourself. Even the most seasoned pastry chefs see this confection as their Achilles heal.


So, naturally, I feel the need to conquer this. I'm going to make those macarons mine!


Much like the macarons, Andy and I had a great night as well. We didn't do anything special -- aside from turning off the t.v. and sitting on the couch, laughing. Laughing so hard and so much that we both made our stomachs hurt.


What was so funny? Food.


Yep, food. Specifically, memories of the foods from our childhood. Mere mention of my mom's salisbury steak (read giant dry hamburger) still brings my sister to tears! But nothing conjures up nightmares like the "Impossible Cheeseburger Pie" recipe from the back of the Bisquick box. We made the mistake of telling mom we liked it, and ended up eating it at least once weekly for too many months (those pancake mix boxes were huge!).


Andy moved on to cubed steak and then started in on the cereals. Both of us were allowed to eat the sugary kind. I believe it started with -- "remember waffelo's?" and "cookie crisp -- they did NOT taste like cookies!" I'm laughing to myself just remembering.


One thing's for sure -- if we ever have kids, they'll be able to have the sugary cereals too.

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Tomorrow I'm making framboise (raspberry) macarons with white chocolate ganache filling and lavender-vanilla macarons with homemade lemon curd for Mandy's birthday. Wish me luck!

I FEEL CREAM

Wednesday is usually our "date night". This past Wednesday was the first night in months that Andy wouldn't have to work late. I felt like I had been patiently awaiting this night. I even planned a good dinner and homemade dessert to celebrate.



Then Andy told me he had to check on James' cats before he came home. He works an hour away on a good day (usually 1 1/2 hours in rush hour) and James lives 40 minutes away from us, in the opposite direction of Andy's work. Still, Andy assured me he'd be home by 7.



At 7:45, Andy called to say he was on his way home from James' house. I was upset, knowing he wouldn't be home until well after 8 and likely tired. I was hungry too. It's frustrating to try and time a dinner to be ready at a certain time and then have the guest of honor be 1 1/2 hours late. So I told Andy I was going to eat.



"Go ahead and eat," he agreed, a little too cheerfully.



"I am," I replied and added "and I guess I'll walk the dog since you won't be home for a while."



I walked the dog all over town, trying to get a grip on my anger and formulate what I would say to my husband. We were gone for over an hour. I gave up on walking my anger away, knowing I'd have to face the music and talk to my husband.



When I came home, I went to the basement to pull up my trunk of summer clothes, the trunk Andy's been promising to pull up since mid-April. I threw things around, trying to dig out the trunk, and getting a physical release of my anger without breaking anything or anyone.

By then, I was angry, hot and sweaty so I hit the shower. I took a long shower.



A little calmer, I went into the office to talk to Andy. I told him something that surprised me but came clear on my walk. I was feeling taken for granted. I told Andy I knew he didn't mean to make me feel this way, but I felt that way nonetheless. I needed him to know -- and then I asked him to clean up from the spoiled dinner.



We agreed that these past couple of months have been rough -- for him because work got so busy he had time or energy for little else. For me because work is no longer there and work wasn't just work, it was my business. And what comes next for me is not something I can figure out for myself -- I need to talk this over with my husband. So, we agreed to make the time for us and to not sign up for any new obligations for the next couple of months. We'd have to learn to say "no" to our friends.



Friday, Andy called me from work to check in, knowing that I was upset because he had told me for 2 weeks that he was taking the day off. More work obligations so how could I not be understanding? Andy suggested we go out that night, maybe dinner and a movie -- my pick. So, I picked a restaurant we had never been to in our neighborhood (in part because they have Patron xo Cafe -- coffee-flavored tequila!) where we could sit and enjoy dinner and cocktails and conversation. Which is what we did and it was good. We finally talked about what comes next for me and for us. Careers and family-wise. It was the beginning of a long conversation and I'll take it.



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Today, I have red currants and strawberries from the farmers' market. There are surprisingly few recipes online for fresh red currants. I decided to make sorbet. Here's my recipe:

150 ml (2/3 c) water
140 g (5/8 c) sugar
1/2 t lime zest
1/2 c red currant juice*
1/2 c strawberry juice*
juice of 2 limes

In a small saucepan, bring sugar, water and lime zest to a boil. Reduce heat to simmer and simmer for 5 minutes. Cool completely.

Mix your fruit juices with sugar syrup to taste (add as much syrup as you want depending on how sweet you want the sorbet -- I added the whole amount).

Pour mixture into ice-cream maker and whirl away according to manufacturer's directions. Enjoy!

*(I juiced mine in a juicer but you can put in a food processor and strain out the seed)

OVER AND OVER

My girlfriends and I are in a bookclub -- it's sort of the core of what keeps us together, though we all came here as friends of most one another in the group already.

Several years later, we still meet at least once a month for one thing or another. We're lucky if bookclub is actually held every other month.

As you can imagine, we girlfriends can be our best friends and worst enemies. We share everything -- rejoicing in one another's triumphs and criticizing one another's mistakes, all in the name of friendship. And, like any group, certain of us get along better than others on an individual basis, or a given day. But we all get along well enough to share a (short) book discussion and a (longer) conversation about anything and everything -- nothing is off limits.

We're ALL strong-willed, as passionate with our anger as we are with our kindness.

Sometimes the criticism and anger ring louder.

Tonight was one of those nights. Since I try not to share other people's business, I will just say that I did end up telling two friends to stop it. Just stop the analyzing of another friend's situation to death. It was just too much I could tell.

There were more situations like that tonight than normally and it just made me uptight and uncomfortable and a little sad at how some of us can be so abrasive and pushy and think it's OK because we mean well.

Tonight, I called bullshit. And, judging by the thank-you's I got, it was well appreciated.

But it still leaves me wondering why we "friends" are sometimes our own worst enemies. What does it mean to support your friends -- is it unconditional and are you still allowed to opine even when opinions are not asked for? Are unsolicited opinions, most often of the critical sort, the opposite of being supportive by their mere nature?

These are the things which will keep me awake tonight.

Go Fish

Yesterday, my sister-in-law and just-turned 5 y.o. nephew came to the house. My SIL, Mandy, needed inspiration to cook dinners for her family. The plan was to hunt through cookbooks for meals for the week and then go shopping.

Mandy and Caleb met me on the porch as I was watering my flowers. Caleb had something in his hands and wanted me to "Guess what, Mari.. Aunt Marisa!"

"You're 5," I guessed.

"No, I have this new gameitsgofishandwecanplayit!" He talks faster than the words can tumble out of his mouth.

So, before we started menu planning, Mandy dealt us all in for a round of Go Fish.

Since it was my first time playing (at least with him), Caleb declared that I got to go first.

I immediately laid down two pairs of fish and started asking -- "Caleb, do you have a stingray?"

Caleb reluctantly handed me a stingray.

"Mandy, do you have a starfish?" And soon I had a starfish pair.

On and on it went, until I had no cards and neither Caleb nor Mandy got a chance to "go fish".

Caleb started the next round and I was the last to "go fish". Though I tried not to, I won that round too.

"Wow, Aunt Marisa!"

"It must be my lucky day," I said.

"No, it's my lucky day!" Caleb announced.

"Why?"

"Because I get to spend it with you!"

And that is how a just-turned 5 y.o. makes a grown woman's heart melt.

ROCKS AND DAGGERS

My day started with a phone call from my aunt -- whose company was a client of my business. I say "was" because it seems she called my former partner last week regarding some orders and my partner never called her back.

I had a mixed reaction to this -- first of course, feeling a little betrayed that my aunt's company would even go to my former partner. After all, the split wasn't amicable, wasn't even my idea.

Then I felt upset -- that my former partner (let's call her Leah) dropped the ball again. In the 3 short years we worked together, that happened so often, especially towards the end, that I would plan for it. I'd give her orders with different due dates, make specific instructions, call to confirm, etc.

Finally, I felt vindicated -- that she's failing without me.

That led to analysis and reflection. Why do I feel this way? Is it healthy to feel this way? Why can't I let it go?

I can't let it go because it was my life for the past 3 years -- that's not easy. I can't let it go because the business has 2 large orders for my contacts next weekend and I'm worried -- really worried that they won't go off without a hitch and that I'm not a part of it, have no control over it anymore.

I've had a stomachache all day. I rarely have stomachaches. Now I understand why I have this one.

Last week, I said that I was going to take my friend's advice and just sit with it for a while, not worry about not having all the answers. Being ok with it, owning it. I haven't done that. Instead, I worried about how to answer the "what are you up to?" and "how's the business?" questions at my aunt's wake. I never thought about how to answer them at the bridal shower I went to this weekend. So for that, I was caught off-guard.

Truth is, I'm having a hard time with it all. A hard time just sitting with it and accepting my situation so I can move on. I want to move on, find a job, find a little worth back in my life. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm worth more than a paycheck -- there's more to value than money. But, like I've said before, I've been working since I was old enough to babysit (10 I think?). I tutored a younger kid in my school in the 6th grade! By my last year of college, I had 3 part-time jobs to pay my way.

I'm a newlywed and I'm also newly broke. Personally I have no money and I am still working on how to ask my husband for some -- how to ask even for grocery money, since it's always been my job to pay for the groceries! No matter how many times my husband may say it's our money, I just don't feel it.

So, I'm having a hard time sitting with it. And the funny thing is, if this were a break-up, I'd totally sit around, have a good, old-fashioned, pity party (I mean, Ben & Jerry's pints good) and take a while to reflect and own it. Learn from it and eventually move on.

Maybe I just need my "rebound" career. Too bad it's even difficult to get a job at Starbuck's these days.