Wonderful Weekend

Snow at American University*

I had a wonderful weekend. It snowed all day Saturday. (It snowed for us in Canada, but this was our first snow of the season at home. It came much earlier than usual this year.) It was the perfect kind of snow too—lots of big, fat flakes that fell slowly so you felt as if you were in suspended animation looking at them. It was also perfect in that it was sticking to the trees and cars, making everything look lovely and frosty, but wasn’t sticking to the roads or sidewalks, making it easy to walk and drive.

Chuk and I have been really into learning more about Australia lately since listening to Bill Bryson’s brilliant In a Sunburned Country on one of our road trips this fall. So Saturday we headed off to Chuk’s alma mater, American University, to see a gallery exhibit of contemporary Australian art and a film festival, both solely made by indigenous Australians (which is what I think, based on usage, is the P.C. term for Aborigines.)

I loved Vernon Ah Kee's large portrait of his grandfather.*

While the gallery exhibit was impressive in its scope, many pieces in lots of different mediums, much of it was in the primitive style, which, though I generally like modern art, is not one of my favorite art movements.

Three paintings by Julie Dowling*

The film festival was also very good. We watched five short films all of which dealt with indigenous Australian subject matter and were directed and produced by indigenous Australians. Some were fiction and some were documentaries. After the films, there was a Q & A with filmmaker Pauline Clague who had produced one of the films, directed another, and was featured in and produced a third, a documentary about her parents, an interracial couple who have fought for the rights of indigenous Australians since the 1960s. It was very interesting.

Then there was a reception, which was awesome. The food was great (very fancy too) and there was an open bar. Chuk and I turned it into our dinner. All of it was free! Parking, the gallery show, the film festival, the food and drinks.

We went from the university to Old Town Alexandria to watch the Potomac River parade. It was still snowing, but we stayed out for a while and watched all the boats decorated with lights. Then we went home and I made scones and apple cider. It was so cozy.

Today, we headed back to Old Town to watch an a cappella show (also free!) with our friend. I just love a cappella music. The performance wasn’t the best I’ve ever been to, but it was also the youngest group of a cappella singers I had ever seen, and as our friend pointed out, their voices probably hadn’t fully matured yet. Then all three of us came back to our house for more scones and apple cider and lots of gossip.

It was the best weekend I had in a long time. I got to do lots of fun things, but it was still relaxed and casual. I love this time of year when there are lots of free cultural activities going on.

*Forgive the picture quality. I took them with my phone. I don't know what's up with the white spaces on the sides of the pictures.

Waiting for After

Before
(This recliner is one of the four pieces of furniture Chuk brought with him when we moved in together. Coincidentally, it is one of my four least favorite pieces of furniture in the apartment.)

During

Still no "after" shot. We went and picked out our Christmas tree last night. Once we got in in the stand and watered, we decided to drink hot chocolate (with marshmallows!) and cuddle on the couch instead of putting on the lights and ornaments. We decided we could wait until tonight to decorate it. It was a good decision; there was a lot less bickering this year (none, in fact!) than last year and peace is what we're going for this season. We're resolved to drink more hot chocolate this month.

UPDATE: We now have an after.

It's the Thought that Counts, Right?

I'm making Chuk a set of embroidered pillowcases for Christmas. Though I know this first one isn't perfect, I'm trying to get over that and start to think of it as looking "hand-crafted". I love that wonky look in the things people give me, I should love it in the things that I give too. Sometimes "good enough" is good enough.

Streamlining Gift Wrapping

All my ribbon displayed

I keep gift wrapping easy the way I keep most things easy—by simplifying. Instead of having lots of different rolls of wrapping paper for every possible occasion, I mostly use either brown kraft paper or plain, white wrapping paper. (I do have a few sheets of decorative paper with geometric patterns that I couldn’t live without. I especially love the reversible paper I bought from Ikea on clearance years ago. These are also gender and occasion-neutral though, so I can use them year round.) Coupled with the right ribbon, these look chic for every occasion.

Because I don’t keep birthday paper, baby shower paper, wedding paper, Christmas paper, etc. my gift wrap requires a lot less space to store. (Am I the only woman who doesn’t aspire to have a gift wrapping room?) They also tend to be much cheaper than traditional gift wrap. (Compare price per square foot, not price per roll.) There is also less waste because I save the ends and odd bits of paper to wrap smaller packages. It’s easier to use up the small pieces when they can work for any occasion. (For instance, it would be nearly impossible for me ever to use up a small piece of wedding paper since wedding gifts tend to be large.)

To keep my gifts from looking too austere, I use decorative ribbons instead of stick-on bows. Ribbons add color, texture and pattern and have the distinct advantage over bows in that they can be infinitely reused. Neatly rolled up, they also take up much less space to store than bulky bows. I can store all of my ribbons, enough to wrap dozens and dozens of gifts, in a space about the size of three or four stick-on bows.

All of my ribbon, ready for storage

Though my gift wrapping might not be elaborate, its simplicity appeals to me. Spending less money, having less clutter, and producing less waste also appeal to me.

Gift for a baby shower
White paper, polka dot grosgrain ribbon

My sister's Christmas present
Kraft paper, green satin ribbon


Christmas gifts for my brother
White paper, green metalic ribbon


Anniversary gift for Chuk
Kraft paper, striped grosgrain ribbon

How Chuk and I Met

Most of the blogs I read have a post in common, usually called “Our Story”, about how they met their husband or partner. Typically these stories are totally cheesy and I love them all the more for it. I haven’t written one because there’s nothing extraordinary about how Chuk and I met, but I’ve decided to do one anyway because it is our fourth anniversary and I want to think about how all of this began.

Before I begin, I think it’s important to note that Chuk is not the man of my dreams. I wanted someone with a surfer’s build and preppy style who was smart, confident and successful. He would be spontaneous, romantic and fun. He would make me laugh and our life would be full of adventure. For years, that’s who I dated.

I remember very clearly the first moment I saw Chuk. It was a Friday. I was walking down the street from the building I worked in to another university building with my boyfriend and a bunch of my colleagues. He was sitting on a bench in front of the university building I was walking towards wearing a stained, ripped orange tee shirt. He looked awful. I think that’s why I remember it so clearly.

He stood up as we approached and smiled. He shook the hand of one of my colleagues, Andriy, who was also a good friend. The university was having a staff appreciation event that consisted of a happy hour/pizza party in the courtyard followed by a baseball game. (It was the first season the Nationals were back in Washington.) Everyone could invite one guest. I brought my boyfriend, naturally, and Andriy, who was foreign-born and didn’t understand baseball, invited his sports fan friend, Chuk, to explain the game to him.

We all grabbed pizza and drinks and were generally having a good time joking around and talking. I challenged my Mets-fan boyfriend with a sprts trivia question. “What does a backwards K mean in baseball?” He didn’t know, but Chuk did. He whispered the answer in my ear. The first words he ever said to me were, “Is it strike out looking?”

The wine hadn’t gotten there yet so I was drinking beer, which is never a good idea for me. For some reason, it makes me drunk really fast. In the courtyard where we were standing, there was a large, square paver missing and I decided it looked like a dance floor. I dared all the boys to dance in it and they all chickened out except Chuk who said he would do it if I did it with him. (His moves are smooth, n’est pas?) We danced together for a few seconds and then went back to the group. Soon after, we all headed to the game. My boyfriend and I left early because I was very tipsy at that point and did not want my co-workers to see me like that.

The following Monday Andriy told me Chuk said he thought I was “cool”. I said he seemed nice. It was awkward.

Fast-forward a couple of months, boyfriend and I were in Boston. He came with me on the first part of a long business trip. The day before he was to fly back to Washington, he dumped me. It came out of nowhere. We were lying in bed about to fall asleep. I was heartbroken. I thought about making him sleep in the rental car that night, but didn’t.

I still had to spend the whole next day with him. I was not going to let him know how devastated I was. I acted normally as we toured a ship and ate at the Cheers bar. I dropped him off at the airport and as soon as he was inside, I called my friend Ben and started sobbing. I was stuck for another week in lonely hotel rooms and strange cities, trying to work when all I wanted to do was curl into a fetal position and die.

When I got back from the trip, ex-boyfriend and I saw each other frequently and spoke on the phone whenever we weren’t together. He told me he loved me and missed me. I thought we were reconciling. One day he called me at work to tell me about his date. I thought I was hallucinating. Your what?! Apparently while I was trying to work things out, he was online dating.

I went into Andriy’s office, closed the door and started crying. He was very sympathetic. He told me he had never liked ex-boyfriend; he was never good enough for me. (Don’t you just love friends who say all the right things when you need them to?) He took me out that night got us both drunk and cheered me up. I felt much, much better. The next week, I told Andriy I wanted him to set me up with one of his friends; I was ready for a rebound. Not ready for a relationship, just ready for a rebound. He said he had two friends he thought would be good for me and he needed to think about which one to set me up with.

Ultimately, he decided to set me up with Chuk because he knew Chuk already liked me, so there was no chance of rejection, which was the last thing I needed at that point. Plans was hatched that I would have a dinner party and invite my next door neighbors, Andriy and his wife, and Chuk. It was an “interesting” evening as Andriy’s wife and one of my neighbors got into a debate about industrial compliance with environmental protection laws. (You know you’re in Washington when…)

The next day, Chuk emailed me and asked me out. I was leaving for yet another business trip (I travelled a lot at that job) and would be in California, Arizona and Utah for the next two weeks. We planned a date for when I got back. We emailed every day in between. He asked me out for a second date before we had had our first date. I thought he was coming on a bit strong, but I agreed anyway.

We had our first date December 2, 2005. It was a Friday. We went to dinner (Mongolia BBQ) and a movie (Walk the Line). We both rode the redline train home. My stop was first and before I got off, I thanked him and give him a very perfunctory peck on the lips. Our first kiss. I thought we would just be friends. He apparently had other ideas. He was right.

He invited himself over that Sunday to work on my computer. He stayed for a very long time and I kept trying to figure out how to get him to leave. Eventually, he did. The next day (or the day after?) we went to a Bonnie Raitt concert, which was the previously agreed to second date. I still wanted to be just friends. He kept making excuses to see me. “You’re going to the grocery store tonight? I’ll meet you there! I have some things I need to pick up too.” I couldn’t shake the guy. (His persistence paid off. Now he can’t shake me.)

I went to a New Year’s Eve party at his house. He told me he loved me for the first time and also said he was going to marry me. We had been dating less than a month. Crazy! Several weeks later I admitted to myself (and him) that I loved him too. We had a partnership I had never known before. We functioned as a couple in a way that was different than any other relationship I had ever been in. With the other guys, it was like going into a store and seeing a really great outfit and buying it only to realize later that it is dryclean only or pinches after a long day or you don’t have anything to match it. You just get over it after awhile. Chuk was like your favorite jeans, comfortable and works well with everything. Not what you went into the store for, but always just what you need.

That’s the thing about not marrying the man of my dreams…my imagination wasn’t big enough to imagine someone as right for me as Chuk. I had ample opportunities to be with the man of my dreams, I know because I dated him over and over again, but my “type” never worked out because that’s not what was right for me. When I let go of that fantasy, I got a reality that was even better.

And that’s the story of how I married my rebound guy.

“You can’t always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.” –Rolling Stones

Must Watch Oprah

In graduate school, I studied the less-developed countries in Africa, particularly the intersection of health, education and poverty. Though I don't write about them on this blog very often, these issues are what I am most passionate about.

If you'd like to learn more about maternal and infant mortality, I strongly recommend you watch Oprah today. They are talking about a lot of these issues in a very understandable, non-academic way.

I know that if you learn more about these issues, you'll be as passionate about them as I am.

Italian Wedding Soup

Are you tired of turkey yet? I’m not, but except for the stash in my freezer, we’re out, so I thought I’d try something new with the less obvious leftovers—Italian wedding soup.

I boiled the turkey carcass (worst word EVER) for a few hours to make broth. Meanwhile, I made a ton of tiny little meatballs out of a pound of ground beef, an egg, some bread crumbs, parmesan cheese, herbs, etc. Keeping the meatballs small is crucial. I also chopped two carrots, six ounces of baby spinach, and two ribs of celery. (I should have used one more carrot.)

When the broth was done, I strained it, skimmed off the fat and brought it back up to a boil. Once gently boiling, I added one cup of small shell pasta, about 2/3 of the raw meatballs (I’ll use the rest in spaghetti in a future meal), the carrots and the spinach. Cook until pasta is done. (If you’re worried about the meatballs cooking all the way, don’t be. They cook faster than the pasta if you’ve made them small. If some are floating, you’re good.)

When it’s almost done, add the spinach and a beaten egg or two. Stir the soup as you’re slowly adding the egg so it looks like confetti. Serves 6.

Note: I also added my leftover pan drippings (I had too much to need it all for gravy) to the broth. It was the consistency of aspic, but that’s fine, it melts in the soup. I had already scraped the fat off of it. You could dump leftover gravy in there too, if you had that.

I have officially used all parts of that turkey. The amount of pleasure I get from knowing this is probably a mental disorder. Ate or froze the meat, made gravy and stuffing from the pan drippings, made soup out of the bones, and made cat food out of the icky parts.