The One With the Barbie Car vs the Barbie Shower

Question: Was there a toy or thing you always wanted as a child, during the holidays or on your birthday, but never received?

Answer: Yes. A life sized Barbie car.

I have an older, and much cooler, cousin who had a Jeep when we were kids and I remember riding that thing around his back yard all the time. That Jeep made me want my own to ride around my yard, except a Jeep would not suffice. I wanted a life sized Barbie car. Birthdays came and went, Christmases came and went, regular days came and went and I never had a Barbie car to ride around in.

I did, however, get a shower for my Barbie dolls. This shower spewed real water from a shower head and filled the tub with water and bubbles. One day, after being sassy to my mother, that Barbie shower was taken from me and set on top of the refrigerator. It was promised that I could have the shower back after some period of time, but I wanted nothing to do with that agreement. To take matters and punishment into my own hands I refused to ever accept it back, even when it was relinquished back into my possession. I never played with that shower again, although I do still own it.

Lesson learned: thankful to have had anything Barbie at all?

Look how happy I was when I got it...

The One With 2013

                  2013 began with fire crackers and booze in France. Good combination, right? I thought so. After eight years of dreaming about being back in that country for the holidays it had finally happened. That in itself made 2013 a year to remember.

                  As for foreign travel, 2013 also brought a trip to Japan to visit a dear friend and fond memories were made while riding a rickshaw in a typhoon, laughing at the Captain EO show at Disneyland, and eating sushi from a conveyor belt.

                  A trip to Colorado was also taken in 2013 and I will always remember being the Designated Driver on my own birthday and laughing while listening to my parents rehash old stories with their dear friends.

                  This year was memorable in that my best friend had a sweet baby girl, I took my mom to get her first tattoo, Remy was re homed to me from his comfy Californian home, I officially started dating again, I finished the Alice in Wonderland puzzle, and I tried tons of new things such as getting a pedicure and speed dating. Over the past year I spent a lot of time with the people I love and that is what counts.

                  2014 began with friends old and new at a spectacular event at the Kauffman Center in Kansas City. All you can eat mini pizzas and liquor, confetti, dancing, and party hats made for remarkable fun. If the food, company, Twilight Zone marathon, and naps are any indication for the year to come then I am very ready!

The year in photos:

Peace be with you!

The One With The Parking Garage

This time last year I was writing about the terrors of being detained in London. A year later, I find myself writing about the terrors of being detained in a parking garage.

Last week Stephanie and I went downtown to the Alamo Draft House to be a part of the Home Alone Quote-Along.  The Quote-Along was awesome and the kazoo, toothbrush, aftershave, tarantula made for super fun props throughout the movie. The only aggravating factor was putting in multiple orders for our second All-you-can-eat cheese pizza and still waiting half of the movie before getting it.

The Alamo Draft House’s website suggested parking in the H&R Block parking garage and getting the ticket validated, so that is precisely what we did. We got our parking ticket validated after the movie and started to question things when we were told what to do if the machine would not accept the validated ticket- which it did not. After searching and searching for a pay station in the parking garage we finally found one and then it would not accept the validation. After no success with the intercom we called the service number, but had no success with that either as we were underground and our phones had no service to call the suggested number. Eventually, we just decided to heck with it and paid full price. Next, I pulled up to the gate to leave after putting my ticket in the machine, but the machine would not take my ticket. At all. After trying to fit the ticket into the machine a variety of ways not shown on the instructional picture it finally accepted my ticket. And then nothing happened. The ticket did not come back out and the gate did not open. Ever. I hit the cancel button and nothing happened. I hit the intercom button and nothing happened. I tried, I tried, I tired. Nothing was working. We were totally stuck in the parking garage. I even tried pulling up to another stall and nothing happened.

A nice young gentleman must have seen me crazily driving back and forth between two stalls because he came over and asked if we were having troubles. After recounting our underground experience thus far the young gentleman pulled out his phone and offered to help. Nothing worked, but we were not surprised. There was a line starting to form behind us, so I pulled out of the stall and told the car behind us to attempt to drive through and we would follow quickly behind if the gate opened. The gate did not open and they did not get their ticket back. The car in front called back to us to say, “I think you have to put your credit card in!” to which Stephanie and I just looked at each other. Bad idea. They did not get that back either and the gate still did not open. Somehow, someway, eventually those glorious parking gates opened and we floored it out after the car in the front of us. 

Like a bat out of hell we made for the highway, laughing at our experience. Before making it to the highway though, we started to feel guilty for just leaving our parking garage friends behind when some had been so kind as to help in the beginning. After short deliberation we went back to check on our parking garage friends. The car in front of us had finally gotten ahold of someone and help was said to have been on the way to aid them in the return of their credit card. After affirmation that they were fine and thanking us for returning, we left again, never to return to the H&R Block parking garage.

Why these sorts of things happen when Stephanie and I are together I may never know or understand, but at least it provides material for good, long lasting laughs.

“I’m gonna give you to the count of 10, to get your ugly, yella, no-good keister outta my parking garage before I pump your guts full of lead!”

The One with Wrestling

In high school I knew zilch about wrestling, yet now, super post high school, I am starting to learn. Last night I attended my first wrestling dual. I always thought it was called a match, but the matches are between individual wrestlers whereas, a dual is between two teams.

The drive to Olathe was a long one. Accident traffic is never fun, especially when you have somewhere to be, and I was anxious to pick up my best friend from high school and head to the dual. Finally, we arrived at the school and laughed our way inside where we looked in a number of windows and peeked behind many doors before finding any wrestlers. We almost just went to watch the band concert instead.

We got many stares from the high school students as we sat in the bleachers to cheer on a team we hardly knew for a sport we knew even less about. In was fun and funny to be sitting in a high school again with my high school best friend recounting our own glory days and rehashing all the ways we did not fit in at our own high school and laughing at how we did not fit in at ONW either.

As the dual went on we got better at figuring out the rules. Or maybe we were just having too much fun and were actually making up our own rules. Either way, wrestling started to make sense to us. And then it was over in an eruption of cheers. It was a fun win and I am glad I got to see it happen.

After a celebratory dinner it was time for me to drive back to Independence, but not before getting pulled over. There are some similarities in the two times I have been pulled over. First time I was sitting at a red light and waiting to turn left, same last night. First time I had just made the turn and the lights came on behind me, same last night. First time I had no idea why I was being pulled over, same last night. First time it was for expired plates, last night was for a malfunctioning headlight. First time, I got a ticket; last night I only got a warning. First time was the exact day that my new insurance card went into effect, same last night. 

What I have learned. Olathe police are nice, Independence police are not. Oh, and wrestling is fun.

The One With Riz Au Lait

Sometime since about January I have been meaning to attempt making the French dessert riz au lait. The standards were set extremely high as my French mum made the last batch that I consumed such an abundance of. Last week I perused the Internet for some simple yet still French style recipes and came across a blog that I have since come to read and enjoy often.

This particular recipe came with a story about memories with a grandmother so I was even keener on attempting this one. The first skepticism, however, came when the recipe’s first ingredient was Arborio rice. Lucikly, a dear friend and cousin helped me in my search for this. Thanks Price Chopper for providing. Also feeling skeptical of the vanilla bean and seeding it I continued my Internet search for some tips. Feeling confident in at least knowing what a vanilla bean looked like I made my way back to Price Chopper and was yet again successful in my search. Finding things in grocery stores always proves to be a chore so I consider both of these findings great successes.

Finally having all the necessary ingredients, enough rest, and a night with no plans I decided to indulge in some French cooking fun. I enthusiastically split open the vanilla bean and seeded it like a pro. It is insanely simple but it was a proud moment nonetheless. The smell of the vanilla, mixed with milk and cream, immediately made me want to melt into the pot that I had just added it to. Vanilla is my most favorite scent and I knew the dessert was going to be delectable. Twenty minutes later after countless stirs, a fair amount of sniffs, and uncontainable excitement I added the sugar and waited a whole two seconds before I started eating my own bowl of homemade riz au lait.

The first spoonful melted away all my cares of today, took me back to the holidays with my French family, and more than satisfied my eager taste buds. I know that my French family waits until Christmas to eat this dessert, but I am uncertain that I can say the same for me. Christmas will most definitely be a time for riz au lait, but I cannot say that it will be a specialty just for the day. Mom’s coffee café will have to remain the dish that we reserve strictly for Christmas.

Bon appétit!

The One With Remy

Four weeks ago tonight I took a picture of my Dharma-bear resting with her grandpa before Mr. Remington Gregory (as I affectionately refer to him) graced our household.

The first encounter between the two dogs did not in any way happen as I had envisioned. I imagined rear-end sniffs, face licks, and happy jumps. Instead Remy growled and lunged in the front yard, which left Dharma scared, traumatized, and later confused when we brought him inside with us.

The first few days they both remained on their leashes although Remy had already warmed to Dharma. She was reluctant to share any sort of affection or attention and was no stranger to turning her head away when he trotted by. Finally, feeling a surge of braveness, I unhooked the leashes from both of their collars and took a deep breath. It was fine. They both just sat where they were.

Things have remained relatively chill since then. There has been an occasional growl when one takes the other’s spot on the couch, a few barks when Remy wants to play and Dharma does not comprehend the idea behind fetch, and a minimal amount of redirection during the one night that they both stayed in bed with me.

It is nice to have another dog around even when all 36 pounds of him jumps into my lap and leaves my crotch aching for longer than welcomed. Even though Dharma does not like to share it is pleasant to see her sharing her tricks and blankets with her new brother.

Cheers to puppy buddies!

The One With the Butterfly

The smell of flowers at a funeral home is always so overwhelming. Today as I sat and waited for the eulogizing words of my friend's father, those flowers brought tears to my eyes and heart just like they always have and always will.

During the ceremony and graveside service I was keenly aware of all the young life that surrounded me. On one side of me sat a dear friend with his snoring son in his arms and on the other side sat an old friend with his daughter sprawled lovingly in his lap. That same precious girl later found innocence and love in a butterfly that she captured in her hands after rescuing it from the grass. As shameful as it is, I'll admit that I stepped on Butterfly before getting into the car.

It is the laughter, the love, and the little things that make my life worth it. Worth the pain and heartache. Worth the struggle and tears. So long as I recognize the good times and make the most of them then I'm considering that a miracle.

I was blessed today to see some great love even though it was in the midst of grief. I pray my friend and her family are able to find the coming laughter, love, and little things worthwhile.