Memphis, Tennessee

Alex and I just returned from a lovely trip to the charming city of Memphis, Tennessee. While I have visited there frequently to see family, this was his first time in the "Volunteer" state (nick-named so because of the number of volunteer soldiers from Tennessee in the War of 1812).  Alex's dad grew up in Nashville, did his undergrad in south-central Tennessee and went to med school at University of Tennessee, so we were glad Alex was able to see one of the places that his Dad had spent some significant time (University of Tennessee is in downtown Memphis).


The last time I had been to Tennessee for an extended visit it was the middle of January.  It was cold-ish then. However, Tennessee has a reputation for being hot and humid - and boy did it live up to this reputation  in these early weeks of June.  I had been asked by my physical therapist to go on two short walks a day (which I did with joy), but boy was it HOT.  I think though, that the beautiful botanicals made possible by the humidity make it worth it.  I loved the hydrangeas, the crepe myrtles, and the lushness of the trees and bushes and grass that never have a chance to get so green in the desert of Southern California.


I also loved the architecture. I am not sure what inspired the designers to plan for red brick and white pillars in fifty percent of their work, but it sure does show-off some beautiful churches and homes.  Tall white steeples, large front lawns, symmetrical building fronts framed by towering trees. While I am coming to enjoy the Spanish architecture that characterizes the West,  symmetry is beautiful, easy on the eye and somewhat refreshing.


Southern food - ALSO delicious. We had the chance to be among the eaters at a delicious southern style buffet brunch, and feasted on grits, a southern style eggs benedict, Cajun seasoned fish with okra, and chocolate bourbon pecan pie. We also were treated to a wonderful dinner at possibly the most brilliant restaurant I have ever eaten at - FLIGHT. It is a restaurant based entirely off the idea that some people can't make decisions to save their lives. Or so I like to think. For each part of your meal (salad, entree, wine, dessert), rather than choosing one item, you can order a "flight" of three items for about the same price. That means you can have a trio of watermelon/feta, blue cheese wedge, and caprese salads, and a trio of different white wines to accompany them. For dinner I had 1. lobster with roasted potatoes, corn, and asparagus, 2. Buffalo with mushroom risotto and cabernet syrup, and 3. Jumbo shrimp with tropical salsa and sriracha butter sauce. Yes, I had lobster, shrimp and buffalo all in one sitting. Yes, it was delicious. YES, you should go to Memphis just so you can go to this restaurant. Alas, when it came time for dessert, I was a bit too full to sample one of their chocolate or cheesecake flights (could it get any better than this?) I did try a small plate of white chocolate fudge, complete with a few chopped pecans and sweet dipping sauce. Definitely satisfactory.


We ended our feasting by going to Rendezvous - a rib restaurant Alex's Dad had recommended. It was delicious. One has no idea how many ribs one can eat until the bones are piled on the plate in front of them. Also, one has no idea how messy one can get eating ribs until no matter how they try to get the barbecue sauce off their nose, there is no clean finger or square inch of unsoiled napkin to do the job...


During all my visits to Memphis I have never toured Graceland -- this visit was no exception.  We did have a chance to see and hear an Elvis impersonation when we went to  "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat,"  put on by Theatre Memphis. You know Pharaoh? The Pharaoh who tells Joseph his dreams about cows and hay and asks for an interpretation? Elvis plays Pharaoh. Or Pharaoh plays Elvis. I don't know. I just know that he sang his dreams while doing Elvis-like dance moves and the Memphis crowd went wild for it! (The rest of the musical was well performed - one can't go wrong with Andrew Lloyd Webber as the composer. Alex and I still catch ourselves humming tunes from the different songs).


Alex certainly got a feel for the town, and I became reacquainted with some of my favorite spots as well as learning a few new places. And, of course, we thoroughly enjoyed our stay at my grandmother's house, meeting her friends, helping my aunt redecorate and rearrange her room, and having several good conversations. Thanks, Memphis, for showing us a good time. And thanks Ga (and Boo) for showing us Memphis!

Ten reasons I should never enter the kitchen again: Chronicles of a Spastic Housewife, Chapter 3

Last week was an especially trying week for me in terms of uncoordinated moments. I had to wait for a week to post about it so I could recover.  I still am not at the point of thinking these things are funny. I still think they are very, very sad, and I only laugh because they are ironic.  Laughing at the ironic is not the same as a good belly laugh.  Ironic laughter hurts, especially when the joke is on you.


The following happened (in a particular order. An order which placed these events so close to each other in their happening that I could not help but feel that the gods of grace and finesse are against me):


1. In trying to slice a bagel, I sliced my thumb instead.
2. In trying to toast a bagel, I burned my hand instead.
3. I got cream cheese on my ankle.
4. I dropped the cream cheese knife on the couch.
5. I broke my watch.
6. In trying to serve dinner onto our plates, I dumped half the scrambled eggs on to the floor (I ate them anyways. I'm sorry. I was hungry).
7. I dropped a carton of icecream from the freezer onto the floor. It splattered everywhere.
8. I spilled crumbled Kit-kats all over the floor.
9. I spilled more icecream. On the cupboards and floor. (I was just trying to put the lid back on the icecream carton. Unfortunately, all the icecream sitting on the lid had melted).
10. I knocked over a bag of trail mix. Onto the floor.


See what I mean?  After the last five incidents, I spent twenty minutes on my hands and knees with a soapy sponge scrubbing the stickiness off our kitchen floor. Fortunately, being on my hands and knees is the one comfortable place for me right now.


I do not ask for pity. I only ask for love.


And maybe a new carton of ice cream -- mint chocolate chip, please.

summer colors

Image Credit (clockwise from top left): Flickr users Robbie Howell, Cinocino, billionstrang, papalars, Susan NYC, etringita, computerjoe, Jagger, Photocapy

Here, my friends, are some of the colors I associate with summer this year.  These colors speak freedom, coolness, relaxed fun and adventure to me (not to mention iced coffee).  Also, some of these colors are around in our new place. The walls are the grey color in the top right photo. Our candles on the dining room table are the vibrant green.  The art hanging on our dining room wall has cool blues, and some of our wood furniture has the muted oranges in it.  Just a bit of beauty on a slow (warm) Sunday morning...

One miracle at a time

Tonight I went to the Brea Mall.  Alex and I were meeting up with some friends for a casual gathering at a nearby restaurant, and I decided I needed to take advantage of the 45 minutes the mall was open to get in my girly portion of late Spring/early summer clothing shopping.  Alex dropped me off and went to meet our friends at the restaurant.


I already had a plan - to find the information booth, rent a wheelchair, and do as much as I could around H & M in those 45 minutes.  Unfortunately, both times I called customer service to ask about the location of the information booth/wheelchairs, they gave me very general directions, assuming I could wander around to find it.  The second time I spoke to the woman I even said, "No, really. I can't walk. That is why I need a wheelchair.  Please give me specific directions to the wheelchairs." She still sent me in the wrong direction, telling me to "turn right" when I was at a cross-section with five possible hallways to walk down. Funny.


I rented the wheelchair, and after hearing that I had "15 minutes" until it had to be returned, I jetted off as fast as my little arms could take me to H & M. Navigating a clothing store in a wheelchair is tricky, especially when the store is of the type that tries to cram in as much clothing with as little aisle space as possible, and especially when you are rushing to meet the deadline of the management company who has rented you the wheelchair and is currently in position of your debit card.


I think it went fairly well.  Aside from a few bumps into railings, a few jostlings of hangers, the difficulty of balancing clothing and my purse on my lap, and the near run-ins with other shoppers, it went well. I did not hit anyone.  I did not knock anything over. I did receive kind looks and help from strangers (which I am sure would have quickly turned to confused and slightly angry looks when they saw me walk out of the mall unassisted on my own two feet).


The best part of the night happened when I returned the wheelchair to the kiosk.  As I stepped out of the wheelchair onto the mall floor, I heard a young man exclaim in an Italian accent,

"It's a miracle!"

(Come on, people.  An Italian accent. In Los Angeles. Who are we kidding here?)


So I think I will continue to repeat this phrase ("It's a miracle!") to myself every time I need a little laugh. How silly that my act of standing up from a wheelchair inspired a stranger to declare, "It's a miracle!"

On a side note, I was 40 minutes late returning the wheelchair. The kiosk was abandoned, forcing me to explore abandoned, concrete, creepy hallways to knock on the management door and retrieve my debit card.  Life is an adventure indeed.

Just so you know...

...Alex and I are moving. We are moving 15 miles across town to a cozy community called Fullerton, and so all my extra thought time and creativity has been spent trying to figure out how to make this happen with two bummed feet, full-time work and the desire to do it on a small budget.  We have been lugging as many boxes we can fit in as many trips as it will take in our two-door car, and have been grateful to receive help from our friends in wrapping china and kitchen things.  We have purchased a few items and placed some furniture for sale on Craig's List. Currently the living room floor is comprised of boxes, boxes, boxes.


And so this is the reason for the lack of posting.


In the meantime, however,  I have been dreaming a little bit about summer and hope to have the spare time that will allow me to --


-read books
-make food and take pictures of it in our new place, which has better light (Once the camera gets fixed).
-lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling. or out a window. or at the wall. I'm not too particular.
-drink lots of coffee, made via our french press since our coffee maker is too big to fit in the kitchen. (Yes, this can be a reality).
-spend time with friends. Preferably at the beach, coffee shops, and eating frozen yogurt.


This is all. Doesn't it sound delightful?

College grad --> adult?

It's a funny thing, being 23. Today at lunch my coworkers were describing the "20's" as the volatile period of your life, and I can't help but agree. Your twenties are the years during which you are constantly making decisions and shifting your plans as you evaluate and reevaluate the direction of your life. You are finishing college and (hopefully) starting your first "real" job, which requires lower levels of accountability than were needed to write your Senior Thesis, but solicits strong bonds of dependence since it is with this job that you will pay for rent, insurance, a car, cell phone bills, the internet, repairs, and maybe save enough to buy a $3.00 cup of coffee from Starbucks twice a month. At the same time, you have no idea what you're doing with your life, there's a 90% chance that what you currently spend your day laboring at has nothing to do with your college major, you are likely still in debt from said (seemingly) impractical college degree, and at best, you're living just above the poverty line. You are grateful to be able to purchase simple groceries and "two-buck chuck" to wine-and-dine yourself as you manage your small apartment and apply to graduate schools or research your "dream job" on the poor old laptop that lasted your three-hundred trips hauling it to and from the library but is not going to last much longer.


(Here ends a fairly realistic account of the sad state of life the average humanities major encounters post-graduation).


This is not to say that your twenties are without their perks. There is certainly less responsibility as you likely do not have children (or at least do not have teenagers), have less to file for in taxes, do not have mortgage payments, and hopefully have your health. It is fantastic to be able to take advantage of your spare time and energy to be with friends, go exploring, discover new likes and read new books (especially with your college-conditioned reading skills). In fact, having lesser responsibility and fewer years of 9-5 work wearing down on us, we might just see each day and weekend as an opportunity for adventure (again, save the financial constraints).


It isn't time to settle down yet. I asked Alex the other day how many years from now he would like to have started his career, and he said "six." That puts him at 29. That gives him (and me), six years to re-evaluate what we want to do with our lives, to research grad schools, apply, get-in, work; to research our dream jobs and apply to the entry level positions of those industries. Six years to learn about taxes and IRA accounts, to learn about politics and the corporate ladder. Also, six more years to live adventurously, to explore local areas with our free(er) weekends, to sleep in on Saturdays, to have our friends over on weeknights just to watch TV shows together, and work 9-5 rather than 9-7 or 9-8. It's not that we expect or intend to have everything figured out by then, it is just that this feels like the time for a large dose of both learning and adventure.


So here we are. 23. Not yet adults, definitely no longer teenagers. Six more years 'til we are just about 30. Then does real life begin?

The (injured) cook and her (disproportionate) kitchen

This week I am learning to live life from a different angle.  My sad, damaged plantar fascias are having trouble healing,  so I have been told by the doctor to help the process by using them as minimally as possible.


This means I now must try to live my life from the seated position.  Working as a secretary makes the workday fairly stationary - I am taking advantage of the term "desk job."  Sleeping happens to also be a predominately sedentary activity, save those prone to sleep-walking, which, fortunately I am not. Unfortunately, the third thing I give my life to (aside from working and sleeping), does not easily oblige itself to restful positions  -- meal preparation.


In the kitchen countertops are built for someone to use while standing, making  them about 1.5 feet too high.  This means that as I try to do the dirty dishes from a seated position, I am knocking other items  into the sink (so far, nothing has been broken).  When I try to cut baked chicken off the bone my arms become achy and my progress is slow.  Maybe I could kneel, but there is only so much pressure that knee joints will take before they too join the force of dysfunctional body parts.


So I sit in my chair in the kitchen and manuever my body every which way to reach what I need.  At least in a small kitchen I can reach the stove, 90% of our cabinets, our fridge and our sink without moving the lower half of my body, or the chair.


Nonetheless (despite the mostly easy-reaches of our little kitchen), I can no longer cook alone.  I cannot reach the spices, I cannot move quickly, I cannot run and leap to hit the smoke alarm when the eggs start burning.  It is now a team effort -- Alex is learning to cook.  While he struggles to get over his fear of raw meat, I am doing my part by taking over dish-duty, a task I can attend to comfortably (no matter how many innocent bystanders I knock into the sink).