A Day for Just the Ladies

Happy Mother’s Day to all your moms and mine!

I spent this year’s sunny mother’s day with just my mom and my little sister; my dad got called into work at the last minute, which actually allowed for a girls day only with the three of us. While my dad is nothing short of awesome, but we rarely get girls days, so it was a blessing in disguise.

We started off with brunch at Alexa’s Garden Café – a tiny little café that’s located in a greenhouse within a plant nursery, surrounded by lush greenery and koi ponds. The weather was sunny, so it was a perfect way to start the day. I loved the café because the prices were inexpensive, and you could order half orders of all their meals for even smaller portions or prices. I ordered an omelet with cream cheese, maple bacon (!!!), green onions and tomatoes. And because I am genius, I gave my mom a gift certificate to spend on plants after breakfast since she likes that sort of thing, and I figured one day looking at plants wouldn’t kill me. (I was wrong. It almost did.)

Next, we ventured to the Fremont Sunday Market – an outdoor artsy flea market located in a hippie neighborhood of Seattle. It’s one of my all-time favorite markets (next to Pike Place) because of the eclectic booths – flowers; handmade soaps; silkscreened T-shirts; glass-blown vases; photography and art prints; spices from exotic lands; cookies, Indian food and wood fire pizza; antiques and local fashion designs. I almost always come home with something spectacular – this time, with a metallic pink pair of oversized granny sunglasses that I’m going to rock a lot this summer. We picked up a BBQ Pork Hum bow and a small bag of kettlecorn to get us through shopping the market.

On the way back to the car, we stopped by Theo Chocolate factory to buy my ALL.TIME.FAVORITE candies – Big Daddy’s. A square of buttery graham cracker crust topped with caramel and marshmallow made from scratch, and then coated in milk chocolate. They are simply DEvine.

Finally, we wrapped up the day with a trip to Molly Moon’s Homemade Ice Cream – a somewhat new ice cream shop in Seattle that is being raved about, most recently being featured in Bon Appetit magazine as one of the top 10 ice cream shops in the nation. I’ve heard rumors about lines around the block, but luckily we chose a day when most are at brunch with their moms instead of ordering a single scoop of Birthday Cake ice cream in a homemade waffle cone that is still slightly warm and chewy from the waffle iron. My mom opted for the Pomegranate Curry flavor, and my sister ordered Salted Caramel. Other interesting flavors worth noting: Balsamic Strawberry, Salted Black Licorice, and “Scout” Mint made from Thin Mint Girl Scout Cookies.

To say we ate our way through Mother’s Day is an understatement. It was glorious.

Currently Feeling: Rushed with work this week – focus, focus, focus!
Currently Anticipating: Trader Joe’s Stuffed Peppers for lunch.
Currently Needing: A new book. I’m going to head out on lunch to pick one out, but think I’ll check Amazon’s Best Sellers list first.

Portrait of a Seven-Year Gap

I’m sure most everyone is aware of the (what I deem annoying) 25-Things post that has been circulating around Facebook the last couple weeks. I have been tagged to do it countless times, but I rarely have the interest to read through all 25 details about someone or the time to do it myself. But last week, my sister tagged me in one she wrote, and since she’s my SISTER, I figured I’d better read it. This was number six:

I have a sister who is 6 1/2 years older than me, and we have different dads but somehow we’ve accomplished being the same person. I’ve always envied her for our similarities and even more so for our differences.

That, I tell yah, made my week.

My sister is fashionable, social, beautiful and athletic, yet she’d probably never list “writing” as her forte. But to me – the writer – I don’t think she could have written two sentences that would have touched me more.

See, while we are, in fact, six and one-half years apart, I’ve really rounded it to seven my whole life. Seven years is quite effectively a huge gap. While I was going through my awkward, self-conscious junior high days and learning about crushes, popularity, body image, feminine products and the good ole things D.A.R.E. always told you to keep away from, she was starting elementary and just learning how to read a book and count money. While I was in high school, worrying over homecoming, driving, first boyfriends, sex, Physics and college, she wasn’t even in junior high yet. She would come home with her friends – some with braces and awkward puberty weight – and I’d roll my eyes at their conversations. “Argh. SOOO annoooying,” I remember thinking, and probably saying to her face on more than one occasion. I made fun of her obsession with Spice Girls, and her love for all things Pokemon.

It seemed as if the scope of our adolescent issues couldn’t have been further apart – she was always my little sister and never someone I could confide in or considered a friend.

Then when I moved home from college, she’d borrow my clothes without asking and wake me up late when I had to get up at 4 a.m. for the opening shift at a coffee shop. I was annoyed that she didn’t have respect for anyone’s space or schedule. I spent more time ignoring her and yelling at her in those eight months than I had ever done our entire life.

When she did reach the sex, drugs and rock n’ roll phase, I was there to beg and plead her to dig her heels into the dirt. “I’ve been there! Don’t do it!” I felt like a mother – I felt awkward talking to her about sex; I didn’t want to imagine her getting in a car with someone who’d been drinking; I wanted to tell her how ridiculous smoking pot and getting the “munchies” was. I was the boring, prudish older sister. “No, but really, I’m cool, I just don’t want you doing the same dumb stuff!” I wanted to shout.

It seemed that our lives were never going to be in the same chapter – I’d always be two jumps ahead of her, or we were just two different people.

But something happened the summer before she left for college last year. Because she was going to no longer be at home, we started spending more one-on-one time together. She’d come over to my apartment to spend the night, or we’d jog around my neighborhood together. Suddenly it was as if the gap that had been there for nearly 20 years of my life was closed within one summer. And I realized in the midst of all this time I hadn’t been paying much attention to her, we had turned into the same person. The same music, the same love for fashion, the same independent nature, the same relationship ups and downs, the same social proclivities, the same bad spending habits. While I always wanted an older sister to be friends with and confide in – to offer me her shoulder of wiser ways – I find myself being that person. I find myself calling her to catch up, being interested in what she’s doing on a weekly basis, and even more so interested in hanging out with her – one-on-one – when she’s home.

And while I’ll always be two jumps ahead of her in age and experience, we’re no longer two different people; we’re scary close to being the same. I’ve always understood our differences, and now, even more so our similarities.

Currently Feeling: Snacky. Snacky. South Beach Chocolate Cookies. Mmmm.
Currently Anticipating: Yoga tonight. I love working out in a dark room, closing my eyes, deep breathing and feeling STRONG.
Currently Reading: “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo,” by Stieg Larsson.

Turkey weekend highlights, peppered with lots o tryptophan

I took the 4.5-day Thanksgiving break to fall off the Internet wagon, so to speak, totally failing in my intended last push to completion of NaBloPoMo. Bummer dude.

But, a little failure in one category is usually necessary to get ahead in another. The category I focused on this weekend was my SANITY. Corporate America stresses me out, to say the least. So I took a break from everything for nearly five glorious stress-free days. And here they are in brief:

Wednesday: Went on a totally unnecessary payday shopping trip to Nordies where I purchased the most absolutely beautiful grey suede, flat boots that my feet are stuck in. Literally. STUCK. I don’t think I’ll ever get a pair of heels on again.

After my shopping trip, I got all gussied up and met the usual pre-Thanksgiving college party suspects out at The Wild Rover in Kirkland. The night would have gone on without one little drunken debauchery hitch if it weren’t for the fact that Baby Daddy’s ex showed up at the bar. This is the first time I’ve seen her, in person, since we’ve been together. I was reminded why their kid is so damn cute; she’s pretty. Dammit. But then I was reminded why he likes me so much—she’s kinda loco. I’m not so much. Well, unless you put a marshmallow pie in front of me, then I’m totally loco. Bitch watch out! No you didn’t just try to eat my marshmallow pie!

Thursday: Went to go see Four Christmases with my parents. Do you know how long I’ve stared at the word “Christmases,” second-guessing myself on that spelling? Just seems a little loco. Kinda like the ex. Anywho, totally a movie I recommend. So yeah, it’s a romantic comedy, which are always a bit cheesy and predictable, but it’s still pretty funny. Like a modern National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. I dug it. Then I dug my face into my mother’s Thanksgiving feast and passed out on my BF’s couch after watching slews of terrible Christmas movies (Read: Queen Latifah is dying and so she spends her last couple weeks avoiding motorcycle-humping sex with L.L. Cool J. What about this says Merry Christmas; I don’t know.)

Friday: Most people spend Black Friday shopping for inexpensive Christmas presents for friends and family. I spent it shopping for myself. Tis’ the season. My Black Friday booty includes a charging dock/radio/alarm for my iPod, a prize for the winner at my holiday wine party, a new cheese cutting board and knife, 50 space-saving hangers to continue my Closet Make-Over Mission (this won’t fail like the Underwear Overhaul Mission) camel-colored motorcycle boots, a matching camel-colored belt, two new tops to layer with my boots and a pair of earrings that I TOTALLY needed to add to the other 100 pairs I own. Merry Christmas to me.

Saturday: After three days of doing virtually nothing, I was ready to hit the town again. Except everyone was either gone for the weekend or staying in again. So, Baby Daddy and I made it a date night with one of my favorite past times—bar hopping on lower Queen Anne. We started at Solo, my 26th birthday party location, where I ordered a couple of their Mojito Catalans (champagne instead of soda water, so lots o alcohol). We then bumped around to Jabu’s for a couple beers, and wrapped up our night with happy hour at Peso’s. Well, that’s not really how we ended our night, but that’s probably T.M.I. for you.

Sunday: A little breakfast at Noah’s Bagels, some coffee, some book shopping at my favorite local shop, and then home to lounge in PJs all day. I did laundry, watched Along Came Polly, cleaned the bathroom, watched Made of Honor (terribly cheesy), cleaned the kitchen, took a nap, read a book, reorganized my closet and cleaned my room—all in time for The Amazing Race and Desperate Housewives.

See it’s two nights of partying and three days of doing nothing that leads me to actually being productive. Why can’t I have this kind of schedule every week? I’d certainly feel a bit more caught-up and balanced.

Currently Feeling: Like my butt is numb. It’s spreading! I can tell the desk job is making it spread!
Currently Anticipating: Snuggling.
Currently Reading: In the Woods by Tana French.

Cougar by Association

Today I invested in a Wazzu sweatshirt, upsetting my Dolphin Sisters (both UW grads) and half my office.

I’ve never felt much affiliation with either school, but now my adorable and beautiful little sister is attending WSU and is a Crimson Girl. What’s a Crimson Girl, you ask?

The WSU Crimson Girls Dance Team, now entering its sixth year, is a group of 16 highly experienced dancers who perform at all home football, volleyball, and men’s and women’s basketball games. They also compete at USA Collegiate Nationals each year in the hip hop division, and make appearances at many campus events, fundraisers, and alumni gatherings.

The Crimson Girls, which together with the cheerleaders, make up WSU’s “Spirit Squad,” will be performing at the WSU vs. Oklahoma game at Qwest field on Saturday. My little sister was the only new sophomore to be added to the team this year! I’m mucho proud of her, so the boyfriend and I are going to the game with my parents to support her.

So damn straight I’m going to buy a sweatshirt to wear to the game in her honor. Even if they are $60. (Can you say overpriced.)

Currently Feeling: So unproductive and unmotivated. Bring on the weekend already!
Currently Anticipating: Catching up on laundry and cleaning tomorrow.
Currently Hating: My jeans feel tight. Yick.

I Can Bake Piezzzz

When I worked at World Vision, it some how came out in a conversation once with my boss that I had never baked a pie. (Nor did I know how.)

“WHAATTT?!” was her reaction… You’d think that she just figured out I wasn’t really a devote Christian and had been masquerading the whole time.

“Every girl needs to know how to bake a pie!” she continued. “It should be the one trick in your bag!”

Uh…why? So I can win a pie contest at my local fair?!

Pies are great and everything—my mom make spectacular pies in various fruit, pudding and sugar-loaded combos all the time. But, they always seemed so gingham, doilies and daisies to me. Don’t you know I’m all leather, vodka and heels!

However, I wanted to do something nice for my boyfriend on Father’s Day since he’s a dad, but I didn’t want to make a huge deal about it because he’s not my dad nor the dad of my children. So, I thought… why not do a simple but thoughtful gesture like making his favorite dessert? (Marionberry pie)

I searched three grocery stores before finding one very expensive bag of frozen marrionberries ($13.99, who knew?!) and enlisted the help of my pie-experienced mother, who I’m sure was just pleased as punch that I asked for her help. I’ve always thought I was never quite domestic enough for her…

Two cups of flour, one cup each of lard and sugar, six cups of marrionberries mixed with grated lemon peel and a pinch of a few other ingredients, and I had a real home-baked pie on my hands. I would have never guessed it, but I was pretty damn pleased by my handmade confection. It was like I had birthed the pie myself. Maybe this is what having children feels like?!

Currently Feeling: Like I’d do anything to be outside and not at work today.
Currently Anticipating: The Mariners game tonight with my work.
Currently Loving: The quiet of my office this week cause everyone is in three-day meetings but me!

I feel driven, hear me roar

I’ve never been able to deal well with being bored. In fact, it’s safe to say that boredom is one of my least favorite human emotions. I think I used to (probably still do) drive my biological father crazy when I visited him in the Podunk town he lives in. One pizza parlor, one grocery store, one bowling alley and one theater that boasts documentaries on the Mt. St. Helen’s eruption every hour, were never my idea of a good time. “Can’t you just relax?!” he’d say when I wanted to go to dinner, shopping “in town,” or anything that got me out of the trailer he lived in on three acres in the middle of nowhere. Collecting caterpillars in a jar grew old after age 10. Life at my mom’s and life at my dad’s were always night and day.

Perhaps I learned it at a young age, but when I start to feel a little bored, I think about all the things I can do or change so I DON’T feel bored. This last part of winter has been so mundane, so I started searching for anything and everything to keep me busy. Now, I’ve suddenly found myself with quite the list:

• Teaching myself Adobe GoLive via two tutorial books that I bought off Amazon.com, so I can design my own portfolio Web site
• Assembling a portfolio to apply to the Academy of Art in San Francisco
• Beginning a pro bono copywriting project through the Taproot Foundation, where I will be copywriting a brochure project for Page Ahead—a local nonprofit advocating child literacy
• Two job interviews this week and continuously trying to push out three resumes and cover letters a week
• Staying after hours at work to spend a couple hours trying to finish Vanessa and Larisa’s uber-late, two-year birthday project I’ve been designing (it’s a surprise)

I feel DRIVEN to SUCCEED right now.

Currently Feeling: Nervous about all this WV application stuff coming through.
Currently Anticipating: The interview I have with a rad ad agency on Thursday.
Currently Worrying About: My boyfriend. I haven’t heard from him in nearly two weeks! Yikes.

Toilet Talk

Growing up, my dad used to get all in a huff over the amount of toilet paper our household went through.

“You only need two or three squares!” he’d exclaim.

Two or three squares?! I’d think to myself. Two or three squares is most definitely not enough toilet paper. So, I went merrily on my six-to-10 square way. After all, it’s not like he could really monitor my toilet paper consumption.

I have come to the conclusion, however, that my dad is totally right. Women use faaaarrrr too much toilet paper. It takes 71.48 people to completely utilize a single roll of toilet paper. (#) I’m assuming, if the sample pool was just women, it’d take four.

In the bathroom at work, I always hear women in the stall next to doing the following:

Rustle, rustle, unravel.

Tear.

Rustle, rustle, unravel.

Tear.

Rustle, rustle, unravel.

Tear.

Tear.

Unravel.

Tear.

Rustle.

Tear.

SIX?! SIX lengths of toilet paper is what you really need to go to the bathroom? I mean sheesh. I’d think by that time you’d have a bowling ball-sized mound of toilet paper to wipe with. Clearly unnecessary.

Perhaps tomorrow I’ll shout over the stall, “You only need two or three squares! Two. Or. Three!”

Currently Feeling: Like it’s not Friday. But it is. Yippee!
Currently Anticipating: Project Red Dress tonight with Sarah and her coworkers.
Currently Loving: Broccoli with chopped walnuts and Parmesan cheese.

Wearing Underwear is So Uncool

This weekend my little sister (19 and in a sorority at Washington State University) came and stayed with me for some sisterly girl time.

“I’ve stopped wearing underwear because one of my friend’s read that it’s supposed to give you cellulite,” she declared while we were getting dressed and ready Saturday morning.

“What?! You. Stopped. Wearing. Underwear?! Isn’t that a little weird?” I replied.

“No,” she said. “In fact, I don’t really know any of my friends who do wear underwear.”

Great. Twenty-six years old, and I’m already super uncool because I wear underwear.

Currently Feeling: Bored and stuck.
Currently Anticipating: Snuggling with slippers and sweats tonight. It’s cooold!
Currently Hating: That I can’t kiss Mike.

Another year, another dolla, holla!

As most of you know, I turned 26 on Sunday and celebrated Saturday night in the best fashion I know how—food, laughter and booze with all my best friends. My birthday party this year really quite literally topped all the years gone past, in my opinion. I had the most fabulous night and want to sincerely thank all of you from the bottom of my heart for making my evening so special and starting my year off right. I woke up the next morning, glowing.

My birthday is my absolute favorite day of the year. It is the one day that I have the opportunity to see all my best friends, from many different groups, in one room. And, it is a celebration of my life! How can it get any better than that? Each year I try to host a party that is both enjoyable for me and the awesome friends who grace my life. This year, the destination was Solo Bar for a red-themed cocktail party. And yes. For those of you who know me well, you know that my outfit matched the bar, the table centerpieces, and most the drinks I was consuming that night. Does it get anymore Jeanna than a matchy-match party? (Yes. I am capable of admitting how ridiculous I can sometimes be.)

Solo is a fairly new bar on lower Queen Anne with an intimate atmosphere and a relatively inventive and inexpensive cocktail menu (everything ranges in prices from $6 to $7). Red curtains drape the windows, the room is filled with tall, modern tables, a couple couches and chairs, a large video screen in the back that plays old movies, drop lighting, local art on the walls and low-key Indie music from their Rhapsody music player. The bar owner roped off three-fourths of the bar for me, and I placed on each reserved table a stemless wine glasses from the dollar store, filled them with glass red rocks, one red Gerber daisy and a little sign, displaying the theme of my party: 26 and I Still Got It! (Courtesy of a joke phrase Larisa and I say all the time, for each year we get older.) The tables were adorned with my homemade, cheap centerpieces and strips of shiny red confetti. I paid for Solo to cater the party with a few cocktail trays—imported meats and cheeses, a Caprese salad tray with marinated beats and garlic spread, and open-faced quesadillas with marinated pork skewers. Finally, I decked myself out in a sparkly red cocktail dress and invited all the people in my life who are most important to me, including my parents who were the hit of the party. (And who met Baby Daddy for the first time that night. He totally passed the parent test AND the large social party test. Yes!)

Everyone showed up in their best-dressed outfits and the glasses of wine and Cosmos were free flowing. I have the most amazing friends, really. My parents were far impressed, as were the bar owners who said they were surprised with how nice all my friends were. I feel so lucky to start my 26th year as happy as I am. Thanks to all of you, again. I couldn’t be who I am without you.

P.S. Forty plus people at the party, and I seem to have the same eight people in all my pictures…figures. Send me your pics please, if you have some!

Currently Feeling: Like these 60 days seem to stretch forever ahead right now.
Currently Anticipating: Catching up on some home cleaning and organizing tonight.
Currently Reading: “My Sister’s Keeper” by Jodi Picoult.

20-Something’s Holiday Bananza

Oh, the holiday season is in full swing and my calendar is feeling the squeeze:

Tonight: Dinner at Tup Thim Thai and an 8 p.m. showing of I Am Legend at the Imax Theatre in the Pacific Science Center
Tomorrow: Land of the Sweets: The Burlesque Nutcracker at The Triple Door
Wednesday: Downtown Christmas shopping (to hit up Urban Outfitters in an attempt to find a cute, clever or useful gift for Baby Daddy) and a sleepover with the lil’ sis
Thursday: Drinks and mingling with high school girl friends who are in town from San Diego for Christmas
Friday: Drinks and debauchery with the fifth addition to the College Clique who is in town from L.A.
Saturday: Ugly Christmas Sweater party and gift exchange at Vanessa’s house (Which I borrowed the most perfect sweater from my mom, shoulder pads attached)
Sunday: Post-Seahawks game birthday party in Pioneer Square for my friend Abe
Monday: Christmas Eve party at my parent’s house
Tuesday: Down south to my dad’s house for Christmas celebration number two
Wednesday: Back to work

And, between all this stuff and working full time, I have to squeeze in last minute gift buying and time to complete the craft project gifts I’m making for my dad’s side of the family. YIKES!

Currently Feeling: Busy, obviously. And a little short on time.
Currently Anticipating: Getting the last-minute gifts ironed out.
Currently Loving: Cozy winter nights.