Just Trying to Figure It Out

NIGHT ONE: GRILLED FLANK STEAK W/SWEET CHILI AND SOY AND SAUTEED ZUCCHINI (featuring Primarius Pinot Noir)

I’ve decided to be domestically proactive on my nights off.  And daring!   Meaning I stepped outside my few-recipe-repertoire and ventured out into uncharted territory: Meat.  I’ve made ground beef tacos, but that’s the extent of my red meat cooking at home.  I had a recipe for Flank Steak, so I thought I’d give it a go.  Grocery shopping was fun and challenging.  Walking past my usual chicken breasts, I found the scary, daunting meat section(did I mention I was a vegetarian in my mid-teens until I was 21? 8 years w/o red meat, 6 w/o meat at all).  I almost had to ask for help from the butcher, but I figured it out and  was on my way, armed with fresh produce and the rest of my ingredients.  I got the Flank Steak with Sweet Chili and Soy recipe in my cookbook The Little Black Apron-A SINGLE GIRL’S GUIDE TO COOKING WITH STYLE & GRACE.  Am I embarrassed about owning this book? No. I’m proud and it’s taught me a lot.  I popped my grill pan’s cherry that I got for Christmas and was on my way.  The sauce turned out great but I learned (the next day from my mom) that you’re supposed to marinate flank steak (Did I miss that part in the book?).  And up to 2-3 days.  Whoops.  I was wondering why it was a little chewy-I didn’t remember it tasting that way when my brother-in-law made it.  As if I premonitorily knew some of this, I put the extra half in a Lawry’s Teriyaki marinade for the next night.  My new standby side, sauteed zucchini, was delicious as always.  All in all, I was very proud of myself that the steak was well-cooked (med-rare: nailed it!) and pretty tasty.  And the wine made it all the better…

NIGHT TWO: TERIYAKI-MARINATED GRILLED FLANK STEAK TACOS W/GRILLED CORN AND SALAD (featuring Monticello Cabernet Franc)

Night Two I grilled my teriyaki-marinated steak and made it into soft tacos w/mango and some standard fixins.  It tasted really good but I probably overshot the amount of ingredients in the tacos and it kind-of took away from the taste of the meat.  That’s what I get from improvising a recipe(save it for the stage Megs).  They were still delicious, and I am still learning.  Surprise guest start-the corn was great! I put some lemon juice, sea salt and cayenne pepper on it.  I was inspired by how they do it at the NYC Street Fairs.  And the wine was yummy.  Then again, I rarely meet a red I don’t like…

So I wanted to write a little about the show “The Nights of Our Lives” at UCB.  It’s an amazing storytelling show that produces belly laughs, shocking gasps, heartbreaking sympathy, and mad respect.  I respect the storytellers so much for their bravery, humility, and honesty.  Most of all I respect them for their ability to laugh at themselves.  In great detail.  I admire them so much for that.  They go further than imaginable and have experienced some unfathomable shit.  And I want to thank them for letting me in on those experiences.  My life feels richer somehow from being taken along their journeys.  It’s also been a great insight into the male brain and I have heard some stories and points of view that have truly enlightened me.  Tonight the heavy hitters proved no less amazing as always.  Chris Gethard, Jon Gabrus, John Flynn, and Anthony Atamanuik—Nice work.  (And a shout out to the always brilliant host Dave Martin).  Thanks guys.  And look below for a clip medley from an 2006 performance.

So I was a cynic.  And I STILL don’t think it should count as an Olympic sport (REALLY?  YOU AND BODE MILLER DESERVE THE SAME AWARD?!?!? REALLY???).  Or that it IS a sport. Athletic? Sure.  An event? Okay.  But not a “sport,” on the same level as so many other Olympic ones [I realize I am opening myself up to much criticism and possible contradiction but I shall continue-yes, curling opposers, I have trouble w/that one too].  Show me a Tango that rivals Alpine Skiing, the Super Combined or Snowboard Cross.  I was highly against ice dancing until tonight when this happened…

and this happened…

and then I fell in love.

Thank you Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir.  For making me smile and believe that you were doing ballet on ice.  I truly enjoyed it.

Life is full of means.  Means to an end.  Justifying the means.  Means, medians, modes.  And then there’s living within your means.  There was a time I like to call the perfect economic storm.  When things were so good that I had, essentially, 6 jobs and not enough of me to go around!  The cheddar was flowing like a mighty wind.  I was exhausted and could barely keep up, but I was financially secure.  There is a lot to be said about that.  I wasn’t ever worried about spending because I knew I would always make more.  I paid my bills, was paying off debt, ate and drank when and where I wanted, shopped, travelled, you name it.  Oh wait—save?  I thought you might say that.  Well, I saved a little.  Suze Orman and I SO did not know who each other were yet.  And now I’m learning from my mistakes.  But I am staying afloat and am MUCH happier than when I was being pulled in every direction, overworked and underenjoying life.   Now I have more time to divide with the things that I REALLY want to be doing.  And I’ve adjusted my spending habits and become a lot smarter.  Even grocery shopping or at Duane Reade, I ask myself “Do I need this?” (That’s right, Suze, I’m learning!)  While reading Real Simple, I came upon a quote that I loved:

“Wealth consists not in having great possessions but in having few wants.”

-ESTHER DE WAAL

It’s really about adjusting your attitude.  What’s important in life?  What do I want?  What do I have?  What do I need?  I am very fortunate in so many aspects of my life.  I have food, shelter, and clothing.  Beyond that I have a huge, imperfect, lovable family that will always be there for me.  I have my friends, my health, my spirit of adventure, and my generally positive outlook on life.  My proudest accomplishment is my open mind.  I have grown immensely in the almost six years that I’ve lived in New York.  I am so proud of the amount of bravery it took to get to where I am today, and the courage that I still muster daily to navigate this fair city.  I am thankful for the losses and the pitfalls that help fuel the fire.  I am learning to want less, to live within my means, and appreciate this amazing city brimming over with opportunity.  And I feel extremely wealthy.

Ugh.  I don’t understand litterbugs.  New York City makes it possible to dispose of your respective used items EVERYWHERE!  On every single corner, in front of apartment buildings, underground in subway stations, in every restaurant, cafe, and even in some bodegas.

So WHY?!?!?!? can’t you throw your godforsaken trash into a godforsaken trash receptacle?  I’m talking to you, kids in my neighborhood, who effortlessly drop individual Swedish Fish, Sour Patch Watermelon, and various gum wrappers on the street.  And I’m talking to you, guy the other week on the late-morning subway commute, who couldn’t BOTHER to take his coffee cup with him when his stop came along, abandoning it on the C train floor.  And I’m most recently talking to YOU, late night N train rider, who enjoyed your crinkle-cut fries with ketchup in a styrofoam container (aNOTHer environmental disaster), only to purposefully leave said container on the seat of the train after we traveled from Brooklyn to Manhattan.  Who cleans up after you?  Well, literally, the MTA employees who already love their jobs so much that they strike frequently.  Or various store owners and supers that have wrappers littering the street in front of their buildings.  Also, possibly waste management of NYC or the parks department when the trash blows into the ONLY sanctuaries our city possesses.  But who cleans up after you the rest of the time?  Your mommies?  Your husbands or wives?  I’m pretty sure you litterbugs aren’t the type who employ maid services, so who cleans up your messes?  I can only imagine what your respective apartments look like (swoon).  And what you’re teaching the future generations of this great nation.

So, what do we(the non-litterbug portion of society) do about it?  Notify an employee of various establishments when there are abandoned beverage cups alongside shelved items for sale? (Yes, I’m talking to you, veeeery sneaky lady putting your empty Starbucks cup on the T.J. Maxx shelf in-between picture frames).  Throw it away ourselves, shuddering at the germs?  The only thing I ever do is temper the anger that rises within me and at most, shoot a heart-broken, disappointed, longing look at the human contributing to the ruin of this Earth.

These menaces to society are everywhere.  At least most murderers ATTEMPT to clean up after themselves.  My wish is not for litterbugs to be more like murderers, but to take just one page from their book.  Don’t leave things behind.  Please.  For the sanity of all people possessing OCD.  For the people who genuinely respect this planet.  For everyone who respects other people’s time.  Don’t have the outright GALL to leave your shit everywhere.  I like to think that one day you’ll end up in a coffin with all of your litter.  Too dark?  Well, it helps me feel better.

And so it happens.  Much like going to the gym or writing in a journal, I took a day off of writing and it turned into another and another.  But here I am, Monday!  (Well, technically Tuesday, but most of these posts are in the early a.m. after prior day happened…)  Back on the horse!

Being a “Jack of All Trades,” I have many hobbies and projects.  Lots of to-do lists, including daily/monthly/yearly/career/life goals and wants.  I’m a Capricorn.  Lists are what I do.  But I don’t want this to be like the 2003 scrapbook waiting to be finished stored away in my under-the-bed box or my half-completed Learning French the Fast and Fun Way workbook/cd combo.  I want to keep this up.  But I have to know that while figuring out and knowing myself, I have to know that writing every day may not happen (cue: shock! and awe of strangers vs. knowing smiles of loved ones).  So, like my commercial casting directors taught me to say, “I’ll give it my best shot!”  (Or was it just “I’ll give it a shot!”)?   Hmm…either way, I’m back!  Giving it a shot.

Maybe I should take a shot.