Thank you, Hilary, for expanding my world view with Regretsy (where DIY meets WTF). I never knew such a site existed, though there is clearly a HUGE need for it...


I know I haven't posted in forever (sorry to all 2 1/2 of you that read).

I'm working the floor with my best Marc Jacobs hankie tied around my neck, listening to Stevie Ray Vaughan play Riviera Paradise... let me tell you something, if things were different (aka I wasn't about to marry the love of my life, and Stevie hadn't died tragically in a helicopter crash years ago) I'd be ALL over that.

Stuffed Mushroom Caps for Dinner

I'm having dinner at Jenny's tonight, so I decided to make one of my favorite dishes-- Artichoke Stuffed Mushroom Caps.

I love this recipe for many reasons- one- it utilizes every part of the mushroom, two- it's absolutely to die for, and three, though it takes a bit of prep work, it's really an easy recipe, but the finished product gives the allusion of being made by a great chef.

So, I'll share it. And if you make them, please let me know how the come out!

Ingredients:
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 onion, chopped
24 mushrooms, stems removed and chopped (I generally use about 10-12 Cremini mushrooms and 3-4 Portabellas)
salt and black pepper to taste
1 12 ounce jar of marinated artichoke hearts, drained and chopped
1 8 ounce package of cream cheese, softened
2 tablespoons sour cream
1 cup shredded italian cheese blend
2 tablespoons grated Parmesan
1/2 teaspoon garlic salt, or to taste

Directions:

1. Preheat an oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Prepare a baking sheet with cooking spray.
2. Heat the olive oil in a skillet over medium heat; cook the onions and mushroom stems in the hot oil until the onion is translucent, about 5 minutes; season with salt and pepper. Transfer the mixture to a large bowl; add the artichoke hearts, cream cheese, sour cream, Italian cheese blend, and Parmesan cheese. Season with salt, pepper, and garlic salt. Stir the mixture until ingredients are evenly distributed. Stuff the mushroom caps with the mixture. Arrange the stuffed mushrooms on the prepared baking sheet.
3. Bake in the preheated oven until the filling begins to bubble, about 20 minutes.

And voila! Stuffed mushroom caps!

Thursday.

Just another day, just another week.

In the countdown to my wedding, entire months fall to the wayside like carnage as my final goal comes more clearly into view. What happened the entire month of November? October? December? Most likely I worked, planned my wedding, and went blues dancing where appropriate; but moreover I planned my wedding.

It's hard to remember the days anymore. I wonder if this is a feature of adulthood, or if I'm just in this strange, hazy, bride-y mindset that's totally out of touch with reality. Yes, ma'am, it's the... 14th...? of January. Monday? Wednesday? I don't know, if it's not the weekend, they're all the same to me.

I'm not even a bridezilla. Sometimes I worry that I haven't stopped to savor the important parts of wedding planning, and I'll look back and miss that. Dress shopping. Wedding shower. Ring searching. Cake tasting. Though I enjoyed these aspects, my incredible GSD (get shit done) drive drove me to mark these off my list rather than relishing in every little detail. Thus far, I haven't regretted any moment of the past six months of planning and how quickly they've gone- maybe when you plan a wedding in a shorter amount of time, you can't stop and smell the roses, so to speak. It's ok. I enjoy it. The means support the end; I'll get married to Charlie, and that's what all of this hooplah is for, really.

So, thursday. Listening to blues, no agenda for the evening, fire roaring, movie rented... let's see where we go.

The scary I-forgot-my-dress, I'm-getting-kidnapped, I'm-marrying-the-wrong-guy-at-the-altar wedding dreams that just decided to enter my life this week...... have GOT to stop.

Health Care

I want to take a minute to talk about health care.

Clearly, I don't usually use my blog on a political front- but that's what blogs are, right? Public forums where you talk about personal injustices, or your cats, or the crown you just got on your tooth, or the final fitting appointment for your gorgeous wedding gown (all of which are relevant to the last 12 hours of my life).

But today, I want to talk about health care. When I moved to Madison, unable to receive health insurance here, I extended my policy from my former job through a Cobra plan- which seemed amazing at first. Reasonably low cost, no fuss with changing to a new plan, and I could continue on with life. Until a month or two into the plan, when I was already living in Madison and realized on my Cobra plan I wasn't allowed to see any doctors OUTSIDE of the state of MASSACHUSETTS. Which is entirely unhelpful when you're 600 miles away, and you're epileptic. Blue Cross recommended I go to walk in clinics or the ER if I needed to seek medical attention- which makes total sense. I mean, that's why I have insurance, after all. So that I can go to walk in clinics.

But I've been healthy and happy and my seizures have been under control, so my health needs have been kept at bay.. until now. Now that I've been on my Cobra plan for 9 months, I'll have to start paying the full premium, which is no longer affordable, so I've been exploring other options (which are few and far between, as private health care is through the roof expensive and I make too much money- a laughable prospect- for Medicaide). Knowing that I'll be married in roughly 3 months time, I figured the easiest thing to do was figure out something for the interim, and then hop onto my husband's plan in February. He called Anthem Blue Cross Blue Shield today to figure out the details- since I take a time sensitive medication (that costs $800/ month without insurance, by the way) we wanted to make sure there was no lapse in coverage.

In infuriating calm and friendly demeaner, an agent from Anthem Blue Cross Blue Shield told my fiancee that they won't take me on, even onto his plan, even though I'd be paying for it, because I'm epileptic. He told Charlie not to "waste his time trying".

I'm sorry- last I knew, health insurance was created for everyone. And I'm not even trying to get it for free- I'm PAYING for it.. and one of the top insurance agencies in the country is turning me away? It's absolutely ludicrous that the sick are denied health care because they're just that- sick.

So now, I have no current prospects for a health care plan even just to get the medication I need, and no future prospect for a health care plan after marriage- though I can hold out hope that my next employer offers it. And heaven forbid I get sick or need to visit the ER or see my neurologist because I can't do that either.

This is preposterous.

Nu Shooz

As the big day approaches, things are falling into place- which is exciting. I can't say enough great things about Zappos.com, which was a formerly undiscovered territory for me... I knew it existed, I knew it had cute, albeit moderately expensive shoes, and that was the extent of it. But I seemed to remember that when Mikki was getting married, she ordered 3 or 4 pairs of shoes at once from Zappos and sent all but one pair back with free shipping- so I decided to check it out.

sure enough, Zappos offers free shipping both ways! How cool is that? Who does that? But that's undoubtedly why their shoes all cost more than $90... which isn't necessarily a lot, unless you're making Midwest wages.

to avoid a costly hem, the seamstress told me to get a 3 inch heel- which was a daunting task. I wear heels sometimes... but my feet always end up sore by the end of the night. And then I found the greatest, cutest heels ever, which had 14 glowing reviews praising their comfort and the memory foam footbed... I figured I had to give these a shot.

Turns out... they are the greatest heels ever! I've been wearing them around the house to break them in which is quite a sight, esp when coupled with my purple sweatpants and flannel shirts.

25 Lines

I found this poem i compiled in high school, it was a project for AP English... it's all lines from different poets making one big poem. It turned out pretty cool.... I called it "25 Lines"

Somewhere on the other side of this wide night
The bloodthirsty spring has awakened in the woods.
We are the clumsy passerby, we push past each other with elbows
Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me.
If I can keep you attached to me, I can anchor you to the world.
I regret bitterly the years of loving you in both your presence and your absence.
I became a criminal when I fell in love.
Fortunate are those with the gift of knowing
Freedom is such a poor excuse
Self-destruction is the star that hangs burning above me
in the catacombs built by man.
The nights are lonely without him
The room is turning slowly away from the moon.
I know that salvation is on the way...
Or should I cross that out and say this is sad?
I used to tell you my dreams
Morbid fascination kept me hanging on
but don't bother about this--
We are all guilty, we are all sinners
The stranger beside you is the same
I am trying to be truthful
I guess you learn from me.
I love you...
whatever "in love" means.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder.



(I was kind of morbid in my younger years...)

Wicked Game

I've been really into a few things lately when i'm cooking for myself: potatoes, beets, lemon, fresh fennel, and tofu. Generally, all in the same dish.

Charlie's been on my case for replacing breakfast with coffee, so I've been working on little tricks to make the breakfast hour go smoothly. I've realized I'm extremely lazy in the morning. I wake up in order to have a half hour of time to relax, and then use that time to sit on the couch, drink coffee, and either watch the news, or check my email, or both. So I've been preparing breakfast at night so it's ready to go in the morning. Whence forth I open the fridge upon waking and see prepared potatoes, beets, and tofu seasoned in yellow curry like I did this morning, there's no resisting.

Madison finally got it's first snow. On my drive to work Thursday morning I was greeted with a few flurries, and by the time I came home it was coming down like a champ. At least I can put my snow tires to good use.

Yesterday, with my day off, I decided to go to Joann Fabrics early in the morning to get more supplies for the bridesmaids gifts in progress, and other little wedding things. As I was sitting in the parking lot, sipping an Americano and listening to Chris Isaak's Wicked Game on the radio (not a good scene) it hit me that the outside of Joann Fabrics is an awful color of taupe with forest green lettering. Suddenly, a wave of depression hit me- sitting in a parking lot, early morning, in the midwest metropolis of Odana Road, filled with every commercial shopping center you can imagine and equally peppered with shops you'll never enter in your life...

So I texted Non, "Hhhaaaaaaiiiiiiiii don't wannnnnnnnnna fall in looooooooooooove" and she instantly recognized that it was Chris Isaak, Wicked Game, and I was reassured that we were meant to be.

Here, for your listening & viewing (dis)pleasure (it's kind of lewd but at least we'll all be on the same page):



(PS I wrote this entire blog post while listening to that song... yeah, it's creepy, I know)

Billy Joel kinda Day

It's a saturday at the store... I've made a Billy Joel pandora station at Adrian's urging. That man can prompt me to do (almost) anything.

I can see him now, in his sing-songy voice, button-down shirt, handsome face, sitting at his desk (my old desk-- bittersweet memories) in the green Magic Beans office struggling not to sing along to Benny and the Jets in his headphones and answering telephone calls from customers... annoyed to pause right in the bridge of B-B-B-BENNY! Hoping Sarah doesn't look over and see his toe tapping, his fingers jiving on the keyboard as he answers stroller matchmaking emails. Love him.

The Happy Bambino website continues to occupy all of my time. What little time I have left is occupied by my dearest hubby-to-be, wedding plans, bridesmaid-gift-making, and plans for april. Not that I'm complaining, because I'm the kind of person who's built to stay busy. When I run out of things to do in 6 or so months- check back in with me. Hopefully I won't be pregnant, or adopting puppies. I kid! I kid!

Confessions of the Queen Security Guard of the World

I love going through old writings. This piece is SO ME. From the Fogg Art Museum

April 2006.

Humans are funny creatures. I feel like I learn a lot about humanity through the coat room Sunday shift. I can sum up a relationship through one simple question, "Do you guys want me to hang this together?"

It's like I've asked them to define their relationship: sleeping together, seeing each other, dating, boyfriend/girlfriend, married..

Sometimes the answer will be, "We're not together.. but you can put our coats together." followed by an awkward laugh, which I return with a nod.

I feel worst for the couples who come in and one eagerly smiles and enthusiastically says, "Yes!" at the same time that the other one says, "Uh....... well, yes. I mean, sure. That's fine."

Sometimes one feels the need to define the relationship for me, saying, "well... if it means we only get one tag, I guess that's easier..." or "IF they'll both fit together..." I feel like I should take the other partner and pat them on the head and say, "Honey... get out of that relationship, because it's going NOWHERE." If it fits? Two jackets on one hanger? It doesn't take a brain surgeon to know that almost any two jackets can fit on one hanger. And not JUST because I'm the Queen of the Coatroom. I generally end up feeling more like the patrons personal therapist. Sitting behind my desk with a clipboard and glasses, listening to the frustrations of being sent to me to drop off their bags (which have their laptops in them, because they are the type of people that bring laptops to museums), or having to get passes to take pictures, which took an extra three minutes out of their already overstuffed day. And imagine, being asked to leave a backpack or an umbrella in the coatroom! The injustice of it all! And so I'm forced to coddle them; pat their heads, tell them I understand; and all the while hope that at the end of their stay, there's a tip for me so that I can make my way to Starbucks to be coddled by my grande soy caramel macchiato. It's a vicious cycle, it really is; but at the end of the day, I'm glad that I answer to a cup of coffee and not a coatroom attendant.

Humans are strange creatures, especially the ones that frequent art museums.