A NEW PAELLA PAN? OR GET RID OF THE CHEF!

My belief?  It's time for a new Paeller pan.
Or, if I were to be most honest, it's time for a new Paella chef.

I haven't made one greater or even great Paella since February.  I've been too embarrassed to write about it. And, yesterday, I was more embarrassed thinking that I must write about it. And now, I'm even more embarrassed-er that I am writing about it.  But in order to continue this post, I must convince myself that failing is part of the adventure.  If you're reading this, I was convinced.

Tomorrow?  I'll probably feel even more....

There is a possibility, though, while writing this post and with you reading this post, I will be double-jinxed. A Double-Jinx?  That's jinxing a jinx so as to unjinx the original jinx with the intent (the "universe's" intent) to return that original idea, thought, or action from the bad back to the good.  Double-Jinx...get it?  And when did I jinx this?  Sometime back in February. So I need that Double-Jinx.  It would be a good!  It would be best! These Paellas have been jinxed far too long!!!

I guess I must explain with what I owe you..... 5 months of Paella stories.  Not that they're too exciting.  Because they're not. So I'll make them short.

They are all different:  The ingredients.  The circumstances.  The company.

Let's begin with March:  Lazy Paella.

The Subjects:  My family. Minus one.  He was in college.

I leave the Paella to the very last day of March...March 31st...to even think about it.  And when I think about it, I open my big fat mouth...and send out a bellowing...

"Crap...Paella!"

So while still feeling faithful to my New Years Eve resolution along with disappointment encouragement from the family, on March 31st, I make my Paella.  And it is a....FAIL!

Back up.

I figure if anyone could forgive a bad Paella, my family could forgive a bad Paella.  That sets me off course right there....the figuring-I-am-going-to-make-a-bad-Paella part.  That right there is the jinx.  Or is it that I did a little too much bragging after the last Paella? Regardless, with little time before dinner and a lotta laziness in my bones, I look to the fridge to see what it can offer me.  I see sausage, vegetable broth and red bell peppers. Of course, I always have the usual Paella fixin's on hand.  Okay, I think, I can be forgiven for that.

What is even more challenging, though, is because of the lack of charcoal and a little bit of rain, I must substitute the BBQ with the stove...and with the smallest element on the stove at that.  Why?  Because it's the only one that works at this time. Cooking with a 14 inch pan in diameter on a 6 inch element in diameter results in a mushy in the center, al dente on the side Paella, all leading to a tragic end. The tragic end?  After the kids thank me for dinner and clear their plates, they say with brutal honesty, "Mommy, you can just throw the rest away."

April:  Lobster Paella.  I send out an e-mail to 18 of my girlfriends.

"The first 7 to RSVP "Yes" will get to attend my Paella tasting.  One Paella, Spanish wine and a Spanish Movie."

One RSVP's "Yes."  Yes...I get only one "Yes."

The Subject:  The Nurse.

I decide lobster.  All the more lobster for the two of us, I think.  First, where to get cheap inexpensive lobster? Costco? No lobster. Ralph's? No lobster. Gelson's?  Yes, Lobster!  Live lobsters for a bazillion gajillion dollars.  So 45 minutes and $60 later, I walk out of Gelson's with two whole, cooked and cracked, recently murdered lobsters.  As the cashier is checking me out, in my head I'm calculating just how much of my weekly grocery budget is being gobbled up by these lobsters...a little more than a third, I estimate.  Is this a mistake?  I wonder.

The Nurse rings the doorbell. I light up the grill and begin to cook the Paella.  For a little different flavor, I add a little wine.  I throw in some peppers, then add the lobster, with, of course, all the usual Paella fixin's, topped with a few asparagus.  We serve, sit down and start the Spanish move, "Lovers of the Arctic Circle," or for you Spaniards, "Los amantes del circulo polar."  Claro!  As good as the movie is, that movie does not distract us even one iota from the fact that the rice is mushy, the bottom is burned, and, well, we can't even taste the lobster.  The nurse is polite.  She "loves the movie."

May:  The Redo Paella

The Subjects:  The Bobsy Chefs, Their Husbands, The Husband, and A Daughter. 

I can't say this one sucks. I know what I am getting into.  I am up against The Bobsy Chefs.  So I figure I am able to "cheat a little" and "kinda" do a repeat of February.  Justification?  "To see if it would work again but on a charcoal BBQ."  You see, because of the discriminatory tastes of The Bobsy Chefs, I feel, to preserve what confidence I have left, I can't leave any room, if not necessary, for failure.  I know them all too well.  Their subtext for, "I'm sure it will be fine" is "It will never be as good as mine!"

I chop, roll and wrap at my house.  Oops...no, that would be sushi. Maybe next year.

I chop. I bring it over...I booze them up with multiple pours of the wine...and I start and finish the cooking of the Spicy Chick-Ozo Paella! Though a little more crusty on the bottom, it is delicious.  Just as was February's.  I don't know if it came from The Bobsy Chefs or their Wine, but this Paella gets raves. Immediately these raves boost my confidence a few notches up and I'm temporarily satisfied.  We proceed to eat, drink and dance our best 80's moves to MJ and The Artist Formerly Known as Prince.

June:  Seafood Paella

The Subjects:  Me and Her Highness
The Chef?  Not me.

Oliva, a Spanish Restaurant, located in the Lower Eastside in NYC is the place where Her Highness and Me order one Seafood Paella to share...discount courtesy of Groupon. I have written the recap in my post,  This Girl's New York City Adventure...and it Begins with a Restaurant...check it out.  Long story short, for those who have already read about it, it is delicious.  I didn't cook it.  By now I can safely say, "need I say more?"

July: "Asian" Paella

The Subjects:  The First-Born-Brother-In-Law-By-Marriage, The Girlfriend, San Francy (aka One Half of the Bobsy Chefs), TMar, The Husband, and Sailor McHipHop...along with my kids.

TFBBILBM, The Girlfriend, and Sailor McHipHop

(disguised to protect the innocent)

I don't know what inspired me to cook an Asian Paella. I believe it was my craving for ginger accompanied by a hankering to impress.  After all, The First-Born-Brother-In-Law-By-Marriage and The Girlfriend were both in town from Seattle.  And they are both faithful readers of these adventures.  Furthermore, they were bringing us their homemade Limoncello.  They have already impressed me.

Limoncello?  Ding Ding...that bell should have gone off in my head to inspire me to make an "Italian" Paella.  But my appetite to impress was stronger than my common sense, and it clouded my mind with illogical notions.  So Asian Paella it was.

After a day of sailing for the All of Us, we come back to the house and I break out the ginger, the bokchoy, the bean sprouts, marinated scallops, spiced up chicken, a little coconut milk, peppers, snow peas, along with the usual Paella fixin's, topped with a bunch of cilantro.  Later...

The fire is too hot.  The Paella, too wet.  And all my efforts to impress, again, are wasted on a FAIL.  One half of The Bobsy Chefs tells me it is the water in the bok choy and the bean sprouts that contributes to the wetness.  She's probably right.  It does look pretty, though, doesn't it?

On the other hand, the limoncello is a smash-hit. It is tasty, strong and before too long erases all remembrances of what we just ate...or didn't eat...minutes before.  So the guests win the impress-off.  That's okay. After all, they're guests.

Now it's August.  I'm baffled.  And I've been giving this Perfect Paella Pursuit much thought.  Need I bother to continue? Have I discovered  Perfect Paella in my early pursuits?  Do they fail because of me, the chef?  Or may I blame it on my 5-buck paella pan?

What's next?

Replace the pan? Replace the chef? Or do I just leave it to the Spaniards?!

Ciao for now!
k

THIS GIRL'S NEW YORK CITY ADVENTURE...AND IT BEGINS WITH A RESTAURANT

I love New York City.  But this year, the visit was not in my plan!

My daughter, Her Highness, saved her money and paid her third of her tuition and travel for her study at the Joffrey Ballet in New York City this summer.  This year, the visit was in Her plan!  However, because I was unsettled with her travel and needed to get her settled into this summer program, I, now, made it my plan.  A plan for an adventure!

And  it was on one airplane from Chicago (ORD) to Newark (EWR) where our, or maybe more so, my adventure begins....

...and it begins with a restaurant!

On that ORD to EWR airplane, Her Highness takes the window seat, I squeeze into the middle, and Some Stranger sprawls the aisle. As Her Highness takes her seat, she clicks her seat belt, slips in her earphones, turns on her i-tunes, and quickly and suddenly falls into a slumber so deep I'm concerned she's unable to revive herself.  So I'm left with my own thoughts.  My thoughts, in these moments, are wonders of if,  how, what, and when I should talk with Some Stranger.  And while the introverted Me and extroverted Me are negotiating the if, how, what and when conversation, little did I know that Some Stranger would soon launch our New York City Adventure.  The launch would begin with the talk of a restaurant.

Some Stranger speaks! ...with the typical airplane small-talk that goes something like this:

"I didn't think I'd make this connection," or
"I'm not particularly fond of take-offs," or
"Do you know what time we get in?" 

Sliding into the...

“Where are you froms?”
“Why are you visitings?”
“What do you dos?”

...and now The Launch.

"You would never know it is there," he says.
"It's the best food in town," he swears.
"And the best scallops around," he announces.
"They serve a fantastic......

**** Paella*****

he exclaims.

My ears perk up as my mouth waters and my jaw drops as my lips form to exclaim...

PAELLA???!!

"Where is it?"
"What's it called?"
"How did you discover it?"

Well, apparently....

His girlfriend
  has a friend
    who has a boyfriend
       who has a best friend
          who recommended this little "hole in the ground"
              on Charles Street
                in a residential  neighborhood
                   in The Village
                      called El Charro "something", a Spanish restaurant…..with

PAELLA!

We make introductions.  We exchange cards.  He says he'll e-mail me the name....if I promise to try it.

Claro!

As intrigued as I am, though,  it does bring up a dilemma.  I currently hold, in my wallet, one Groupon for one Paella at one Spanish restaurant on the Lower Eastside.  Oliva.

Is it appropriate to try out two Paellas in one week in an alien City…or would I be jinxing my culinary experience in a City where the pizza, the bagels and the Dim Sim are a requisite?

I, by now, am giving that dilemma no more than that one thought as Me and Her Highness step off that plane into New Jersey and tumble into "21's" car, with treats, baggage and bodies.  21's New Jersey home would be our home base for the next week.  In and out.  Back and forth.  To stay…or not stay.

That night as we finally get to home-base, 21's husband, an Engineer who was recently laid off just in time to be at our beck and call, is called to action.  21 demands, and without no-explicatives, (of which I mustn’t repeat), "Tomorrow morning, take them to the bus.”  And, thereafter, plans are being made and it's off to bed.

But before we go to bed, I plug in, open up, and check my e-mail...and there in my inbox is a message from Some Stranger:

"It's called,
El Charro Espanol
You must go"

I give it a second thought, but then no more than that.  I'm tired.

The very next morning, after 21 leaves for work, the grumbling begins and that Engineer, at 7:30 am, that very next day, takes us to the Willowbrook Mall Stop to catch a bus to Port Authority.

We get there just in time for Standing Room Only.

Standing on the bus for a 40 minute ride into the City is enough to wear a teenager out.  I had not, until now, entertained the probability that 17 year old legs ain’t what they used to be, and could, quite possibly, have a difficult time keeping up with mine.  So...I bribe that teenager and her caboose at the top of those 17 year old legs with a chai latte and a 40 minute seat at the Dean & Delacu coffee bar just across the street from the Port Authority.

We then decide to explore the neighborhood. 

Times Square
Rockefeller Center
St. Patrick's Cathedral
Then...

United Nations Headquarters.



After an adequately long wait for the tour…

…we get one cheeky Argentinian-French Guide, who speaks 5 and a half languages, teaches us of War and Peace while quizzing us on Peace and War and guides us through….

The United Nations Security Council's Chamber

He then teaches us of countries and lands that we never knew existed before

he shows us…

The United Nations General Assembly Room

We learn that at that podium, at the front of that room, has stood, as long ago as the most recent past,

Queens and Kings,

  Dictators and Presidents,

and...

....Gustav, the Janitor,

whose disinfectant cleans that podium once on every day of every week.

Following a generous 3 hour study about the U.N., we walk down 42nd past 1st Avenue and we stumble onto and into this building…

The Ford Foundation Building

It looks like "Trespassing" behind those doors, but curiosity wins over hesitancy and we open those doors…

I am in awe.  Her Highness is in awe.

This is the most beautiful building with the most beautiful gardens I have ever seen!

…and we are both mesmerized!

…by No Admission Charge! 

We make a wish.  I make two.

And not quite 45 minutes later, our bellies call for
Veselka for a lunch of pierogies and sour cream or pierogies and apple sauce, whichever one prefers.

I have one pour of the wine.  I'm on vacation.

We eat.  We drink.  We talk.  We catch up with our text machines and social media device.

Following lunch, a failed search for "Midnight in Paris" leads us to a tiring shopping trip in Soho, which forces us into an early bus back to home-base, which takes us right back to Willowbrook Mall, which is where a car awaits for a trip back to the house, where an early supper and one more sleep is in store.

…however, not before I plug in, open up, and check my e-mail...and there in my inbox from Some Guy is…

El Charro Espanol
“Did you go yet?”

Hmmmm…I’m curious.  And I give it, this time, more than two thoughts.
This restaurant must be good.  How can I fit it in?

Next morning: 

It's off to Willowbrook Mall to get to…

·         A coffee and bagel at Grand Central Station

·         A ride with big luggage on the Metro North

·         A stop and an eat in Katonah, Connecticut

·         Then more of Connecticut with lots to explore...

We stay here...

"the (my) dream house"

                                                                           

                                                                We canoe!

First time ever we (well, I) see these...
Lily pads blooming!

Later, we hike, visit, snack, drink, and eat with Guapo...and then talk and giggle with Guapo and friend so much that we can hardly control our bladders, so by the end of the night, well.....all I can say is...diapers should have been in order.

Following that fun day and later that night, before Her Highness and Me climb into the big bed, in the beautiful bedroom, overlooking the gorgeous lake, under the fabulous moon, I plug in, open up, and check my e-mail.... and there in my inbox from Some Stranger is:

El Charro Espanol
"Let me know how you liked it"

Now I’m a little embarrassed to say I haven’t tried it yet, despite it being only the 2nd day there.  However, I think and respond:  Come hell or high water....

The very next morning:

We hop on the Metro-North, heading south

                           and we have to...

wheel off the train,

squeeze into the elevator,

shove through a turnstile,

and throw into a cab...

...the too-much-too-big

mandatory luggage Her Highness must bring for her time with The Joffrey.

20 minutes later, these two bodies, four hands, four legs, and too-much-too-big luggage are dumped out in front of the Park 79 Hotel where we have a room closet for the next couple nights.  And, thankfully, Park 79 kindly takes those Big Boys off our hands to store while we wait for our check in.  Now, we still have hours to kill.

So it's off to Central Park, but not before:

·         A walk-by the Dakota

·         A walk down Columbus

·         A walk-by the Dorms for the Joffrey

·         A walk-up Broadway

·         Le Pain Quotidien for a lunch and…

a couple of thirst-quenchers

Watermelon and Mint Lemonades

Following lunch, it’s Central Park for…

 ...Outdoor Adventures

As I'm happily thrust into my element with...

·         Hiking

·         Biking

·         Camping

·         Rock Climbing

·         Free drinks

·         Free snacks

·         Free bike-tryer-out-ings

·         Free rock climbing-tryer-out-ings

The teenager takes the wind out of my sails.  She "needs" to…

·         Chill-ax

·         Read

·         Make flower necklaces all on a patch of grass on the other side of the Park.

So I trade in my free bike-tryer-out-ing and my free rock climbing-tryer-out-ting for…

(stated with an eye-rolling-topped-off-with a bit -bunch-of-a-sarcastic attitude)

·         Chill-axing

·         Watching the clouds pass by

·         Playing with my social media/picture taking device

And after a chill-axation in the Park, yet not without an embarrassing disorientation through The Ramble, the day is consummated by…

·         One teenage nap

·         Two showers

·         A force-off the C train

·         A final escape from the Village

·         A name-change from “Mommy” to “MOther…”

 Then Oliva at 1st and Houston for dinner with a Groupon!  Hallelujah! We get to eat!  And that one Groupon gets us…

2 waters, 1 raspberry Margarita, 1 calamari tapas, 1 flan and 1 share of the...

PAELLA!!!

We are starved!

And it is fantastic!

Muy deliciouso!

Her Highness agrees!

The mussels in that Paella are the most flavorful I have ever had!

That Paella gets a 9 for the seafood, a 7 for the rice!

Overall, I'd say something like an 8-and-a-half!

Next it's Woody Allen's, "Midnight in Paris" 
A French Bakery for macarons
Then back to our room closet at the Park 79, Upper Westside, for one sleep before Sunday.

Nevertheless, before Sunday begins, Saturday must end, and before it must end, I plug in, open up, and check my e-mail....and there in my inbox is an e-mail from Some Stranger:

El Charro Espanol
"Did you go? Was it worth it just yet?"

My answer:
"Tomorrow: El Charro.
 I'll let you know what I get."

Then Sunday morning after an unimpressive mass at St. Patrick's, I begin a blister-inducing stroll across town to buy some bagels at the H&H Bagels...just because somebody told me to...

And I see this….

and this...

As I get closer to the H&H Bagels, at and around 46th and 12th, on the Hudson River, I see this...

…all while Her Highness is asleep in her bed, in our room closet, at Park 79 Hotel on the Upper Westside.  As I'm making my way back to the Hotel, in my thoughts, I sort out the plan for the day...

I wake up Her Highness by texting her on my social media device.  She is up, but not before I am two blocks away.  She dresses, eats a bagel, and brushes the teeth...all while I'm desperately searching for the closest place to buy coffee so I may continue my day.

Plan for the day begins...but not long after tackling what is #1 on the itinerary, all things go askew!  And nothing goes as planned.  Note the below Plan vs. Actual.

PLAN	ACTUAL
·         Joffrey Dorm Check in	·         Joffrey Check in
·         Little Italy pizza lunch	·         Joffrey Check in
·         Brooklyn Bridge	·         Joffrey Check in
·         Macy’s	·         Around the corner pizza lunch
·         Toys R Us	·         Bed Bath and Beyond on Broadway
·         Practice hailing a cab (Her Highness)	·         Trader Jos on Broadway
·         Practice run to Joffrey Chelsea Studios	·         Fruit Stand
·         Practice run to Joffrey Village Studios	·         Clean dirty room
·         Grocery shopping for dorm food	·         Her Highness: evening meeting
·         El Charro Espanol for Paella	·         Me: meet friends for Not El Charro Espanol

The only activity in our original afternoon plan?
Her Highness and Her Hand....Hailing a Cab!
And a superb-ious Hail, she demonstrates!

And later that day, I find out that my daughter has a dorm meeting at 7 and will be unable to make dinner.

So, El Charro Espanol for 1?

Nope!  21 and The Engineer call.  They and their son want to come into the City for dinner.

So, El Charro Espanol for 4?

Nope!  If they take a trip into the City, they want Steak and Seafood. None of that paella stuff, they say.  So reluctantly tonight I succumb.

Instead.  We give up a seating on the patio of what looks to be fabulous food of which the most accommodating Manager of a little French Restaurant, Bistro Citron, on 83rd and Columbus, was desperately trying to make work for us.  People are hungry so we give it up for what?   For Oceana Seafood, the most expensive yet adequate food, crappy service, waiting-over-an-hour-for-patio-seating-and-never-getting-it, over-rated seafood restaurant "in the world!"  And we don't get seated until 10.

Although, a bajillion dollars later, I do have a lovely night with my lovely friends, while missing my lovely daughter, and come back to my lovely hotel room closet where I plug in, open up and check my e-mail...and there in my inbox is an e-mail from Some Stranger:

El Charro Espanol.
"Sooooo????"

I am too embarrassed to respond.  And I am bitter!

The next two days in the City are great.  21 meets me Monday. 

We:

·         Walk the Brooklyn Bridge

·         Lombardi's, Little Italy for Pizza

·         Walk the Village

·         Walk through Chelsea

·         Walk the Highline

·         Drinks on the Hudson

Then back to 21's New Jersey home for a taco salad, a talk and then to bed.  

But not before I plug in, open up and check my e-mail.

But no e-mail from Some Stranger in my inbox.

I go to bed.

Tuesday, alone in the City, I:

do this…

.

The Met: Alexander McQueen: Savage Beauty





Then I do this...

                                                               





and this...







And back to this…

The Met: Modern and Contemporary Art

Yet, on that very last day, in between all that, I take a walk/ride down to the Chelsea Studios.  I get one last shot!  For lunch, I pick up Her Highness and Her Friend, take the subway down to Christopher Street, walk up 7th Ave. scurry right onto Charles and there it is...

...a cute little unassuming restaurant in the basement of a brownstone in the middle of a short little residential street in The Village.  They are open for lunch!

We step down the steps into what is a quite charming little restaurant....we step down into...

El Charro Espanol!

One Paella Please!  

Here comes the tragic twist!  

I can't order a Paella.  It takes 20 minutes to cook + more time to eat.  I don't have the time.

As I pass through the disappointment, I decide it isn't so tragic because I'm still excited to actually be there and taste any part of this cuisine that has been highly recommended.

We order and eat Two rich, tasty Cheese Enchiladas, One incredibly flavorful Beef Enchilada, and a delicious Seafood Soup with amazing scallops with a most savory base.

They say they have the best Margaritas in town!  So, of course, I had to order one of those.  I'm on vacation.  The best in town?  Well...let's put it this way...I know they would be the best in L.A.

If it were my choice, I would break the bank to eat and sit there for hours. This restaurant more than lives up to the reputation given by Some Stranger.  But I must get the girls to their class.
Next visit, next time:  The Paella. Something to look forward to.

I am happy.  And that day ends with...

·         One last stroll and "chill-ax" with me, myself and I in Central Park

·         A quick dinner with Her Highness

·         On the subway to Port Authority

·         Standing room only on the bus back to NJ for one last night

Just as we entered the first time in the City standing on a bus, I left the final time in the City standing on a bus.  And just when I thought my adventure was over, I got a little surprise.  While standing on that bus with one Big Salad in one hand and a Diet Dr. Pepper in the other, trying to balance on a bus going 70 mph, and thinking I should've got a bag to carry my food and drink, One Stranger, who was sitting beside me watching my struggle, said to me:

"I notice you don't have a bag for that Big Salad and Diet Dr. Pepper.  I have a plastic bag right here in my purse.  I don't know why it's here.  I never carry a plastic bag in my purse...I always keep a very neat purse.  So this must be for you!"  And she handed me the bag.  And One Stranger gave me exactly what I needed!

Me, full of gratitude and appreciation, said to One Stranger:  "Thank you.  Thank you. Thank you very much."

It was at that moment that it occurred to me, not like a thought I ever had before, that sometimes the strangers who come in and out of your life, if only for a few minutes, can make a bigger impact than one would be aware.  In this adventure, I was lucky to have two.  Two strangers.  Two gifts.  But, most importantly, these two strangers made me aware of what kind of stranger I want to be to others.  And I want to be just like them.

Immediately when I got back to New Jersey...

I got ready for bed,
plugged in,
opened up
and checked my e-mail,
and full of gratitude and appreciation, I wrote.

And this time, Some Stranger got in HIS inbox when he plugged in, opened up, and checked his e-mail...

El Charro Espanol

"The restaurant was charming!  The food was delicious!  The restaurant far exceeded my expectations.  

I now have a NYC favorite.
(etc. etc. etc.)

Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you very much!"

Ciao for now!
k

Highlights and Recommendations:

Bistro Citron
http://www.bistrocitronnyc.com/

Brooklyn Bridge
http://brooklyn.about.com/od/brooklynbridge/a/How-To-Walk-The-Brooklyn-Bridge-Manhattan-To-Brooklyn-Brooklyn-To-Manhattan.htm

El Charro Espanol
http://www.el-charro-espanol.com/

Ford Foundation Building
http://www.galinsky.com/buildings/ford/

Groupon
http://www.groupon.com/new-york/

The Met: Savage Beauty
http://blog.metmuseum.org/alexandermcqueen/about/

Oliva
http://www.olivanyc.com/

Park 79
http://www.park79.com/

Trader Jo's, Broadway
http://www.yelp.com/biz/trader-joes-new-york-5

United Nations HQ
http://visit.un.org/wcm/content/

Veselka
http://veselka.com/

A DAY OUT WITH MOM!

Mother's Day is this weekend.  Sure, I am a Mother. But I'm also a Daughter.  And in the morning on Mother's Day, I am the Mother.  But by evening...the Daughter.  The evening belongs to my Mother.

So, yes, even on Mother's Day, the evening dishes I will have to do!

In anticipation of this Sunday's Mother's Day evening, I have been doing a lil' reflecting and a lil' remembering on/of my day out with Mom...the one we had together just one month ago...the fun one...the one without my evil step sisters.  Did I say...evil?

And this is how it went!

Last month, during my mini post-writing hiatus, I thought A Day Out with Mom would be a good incentive to knock off the procrastination and get some things accomplished.  So after I got a few things crossed off my list, I felt like my mind, body and soul earned a way outta the house.  Out for a lunch, movie and a little chat time with Mom.

This is my Mom.

(disguised to protect the innocent)

The one on the left.  

She's pretty, huh!

We have many differences, but we do have two things in common.

1.  Humor
2.  Making Babies

We both like to laugh.  And we both have/had a uterus. And we used them!

But we are different.

She is very nice.  
I'm kinda nice. A little not-nice....just a little not-nice, sometimes.

She is very friendly.  
I'm kinda friendly.  A little stand-off-ish, at first.

She is very private.  
Me....not so much, anymore!

She is very sensible.  
I'm kinda sensible.  A little fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants-ish.

She is composed.  
I'm a little too enthusiastic.  Maybe on the verge of inappropriate, at times.

She is a very good Catholic...both as a church goer and by example.
Me?  Well...I ran right out of that Catholic church into the arms of the Episcopal church, and, let's say, I'm not in those arms very often.  Also, I seem to slip up on my "by examples" maybe...a little...sometimes??!!

Long story, short.  She does.  I try.

But, I AM.
And that she gifted to me.......with her uterus.

So...last month it was time to spend a little time with My Mom.

The day arrives and I have finally trained her that the best way to get in touch with me is by e-mail...on my computer cell phone text machine.  For next time, I will train her to text.  Sad that the communication in a mother and daughter relationship must come down to a text machine...but things change!  And thank gosh my Mom is a willing participant of the ever-changing things.  This forces her guarantees that she will spend time with me.  That is, if she wishes to write say more than four words to me in a single communication.

See?  A method to my madness!

So she e-mails me, "What time?"  I respond, "11:15."

So I take the day off.  A Wednesday.
I pick the eating facility.  Coral Tree Cafe.
She picks the movie.  "The Music Never Stopped."
She drives over in her car.
We leave in my car, and we're off on our Mother Daughter Wednesday Adventure.

We decide the earlier we get to the eating facility, the longer we have to chat.  We haven't chatted for quite a while.  There's a little catching up to do.  Because the movie begins at 1:40, we decide to get to the eating facility by 11:30 for more of that chat time.

We enter the Coral Tree Cafe and are thankful they have "honest food."  At least that's what this eating facility calls their "healthy and organic" food.  Mom and I both happen to be over 30 (no, not lbs., certainly not stones....30 years), so low calories and no oils are essential if we are going to make it through that movie.  So we step up to the counter, and one Chinese Chicken Salad, a Sonora Salad, two waters, and a fight for who pays later, we grab the bestest table in the place, take a seat, and chat as we wait for our meals.

With mouthfuls of food, we continued to chat about what each other has been up to...she talks about her friends...I talk about my friends.  We do leave the evil step sisters out of our conversation this time.  Did I say evil?  And I don't even think we mention the brother.  But there is lots of talk of grand kids...all grand kids...her grand kids. She gives me lots and lots of compliments.  'Cause that's what moms do.  And I like that.  And through our gobs and gobs of food, we laugh and laugh and laugh some more....until I look at my text-machine and notice we have just enough time to lay down a tip, push in our chairs, and get out of there just in time to hit the box office before the movie begins.

We arrive at the Laemmle...just down the street from the Coral Tree Cafe in Encino.  It's Wednesday afternoon, so, of course, I find a parking spot!  We race to the box office.  Mom whips out a gift certificate.  I whip out my cash.  And it's the cheapest movie I've seen in a long time.  8 bucks for me and, because she's a senior, 4 bucks for her.  Holy crap...I do have something to look forward to!!!!  Cheaper for seniors.

We sit down and I swear Mom, Me and the lady in front of us are babies compared to the people in there.  All 72+, I'm sure, and quite spunky, indeed.  And that theater was three quarters full.  It's those 4-buck-tix that put them into those seats, for sure.  Something to look forward to!!!

The film was bookended between the following...

"This is a true story" 

and 

"All characters appearing in this work are fictitious.  Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental."  

???

And everywhere in-between was a sad-happy-sad-feel-good-by-the-end-but-teary type of story!

We grapple with the "truth" of the story versus the "un-truth" of the characters and, finally, without understanding, this makes us giggly.  Our movie-tears change to laughter, and before we know it, anxiety ensues as we urgently must find a bathroom before we pee our pants...

...but not without passing by this conversation:

You're drunk! 

I am NOT!

That's okay...I am too.

...and then eavesdropping on this conversation:

LADY 1:  Hi!
LADY 2: You're in Europe!
LADY 1: No, I'm here!

LADY 1:  Did you like the movie?
LADY 2:  I hated the movie.  It made me cry.
LADY 1:  But it didn't have sex.  And it didn't have bad words.  And it didn't have bombs.
LADY 2:  But it made me cry.

Despite Mom and Me discreetly but hysterically laughing our way to our respective toilets, our bladders prove to be champions as they withstand these exceptional provocations...and we each stay dry. While rehashing about our plights to our respective toilets, we can't help but giggle all the way home.

By the time we get back to my house, it's 4:00.  The late-afternoon drowsies set in, so I make Mom a cup of coffee.  We talk and laugh some more, and before my family gets home, Mom is coffee'd-up, talked-out, over-giggled, and on the road waving her goodbyes.

That was A Day Out with Mom! And as I was writing about the account of this day, it reminded me, yet again, that we can make an extraordinary adventure out of the usual....we just have to find it!  And that day, Mother and Daughter found it...also, most notably, not without giggles!

Ciao for now!
k

A ROYAL WEDDING ON ROYAL TIME

I was invited to The Royal Wedding!
I went and now I'm back!  And not without jet lag!

And this is what I wore!

Hardly appropriate for Westminster Abbey at 11 in the morning.  But most appropriate for Los Angeles at 1 in the morning... 

...Except for the hat! 

Not appropriate anywhere!

except

maybe in private...
with friends...

in a great room...

on couches...
in p.j.s...

eating snacks...

drinking champagne

and

trying to stay awake for A Royal Wedding!

or

in the rice fields!

Backing up... 

This is the invitation of which I was excited to receive in my inbox just three weeks ago...

The Royal Wedding

• Thursday, April 28, 2011 • 11:00pm
• Hosted by NADAR
• 555-555-5555
• Title
• Address
• Los Angeles, CA

The Royal Princess of Los Angeles has been commended by the The Queen to invite you to

The Marriage of

His Royal Highness

Prince William of Wales

with

Miss Catherine Middleton

At [Location]

On Thursday April 28th at 11pm

attire: Sleepwear & a Hat

Please RSVP

And immediately and without hesitation I RSVP'd YES!

Prior to receiving the invitation, I wasn't really paying attention to any of the wedding hoopla.  I thought it was kind of silly.  If I hadn't been invited, I would have, most likely, not stayed up, and, only at my own convenience and depending on my mood, tuned in to the highlights.  I do need my beauty sleep.  Or rather, nowadays, I need my possibly-but-not-guaranteed-anti-aging sleep.  The beauty these days is solely in the makeup. 

I did stay up for Princess Diana's wedding once upon a time...in another life...of course, it was a piece of cake!   However, despite my "maturity" and feeling that the wedding hoopla was rather silly, the allure of attending a party starting at 11 pm and staying awake throughout the wee morning hours, while drinking champagne with friends until the sun comes up, was quite appealing, and...well... more so, quite challenging. 

   Could I do it?   

First order:  "A Hat"

I knew my host had at least two fabulous hats.  NADAR, the host,  resided in London for a couple years, and not without attending the Ascot Racecourse and the Henley Royal Regatta.  I didn't want her to be in poor company. So first matter at hand was to search for a hat.  The search began and then quickly and promptly ended at Ebay!

There was this hat!

And this hat...

And this hat...

None of them reasonable....none of them my color.  Reasonable to me was 15 quid.  Multiply that by 4 and they became... unreasonable.  So, as I sometimes do, when I get discouraged...I leave it up to the Gods.  Translation: Procrastination!  I'll look into this one later.

The week prior to the wedding I studied up with Piers Morgan on CNN and caught up with the best and the ways of the Royals.  As I gained more knowledge, I became much more enthralled with the Brits' enthusiastic anticipation for the wedding, and was beginning to realize that, for me, it was becoming much more than a late-night-stay-up with champagne, biscuits and a GI-normous-screen t.v.  I was actually becoming one proper British Royal Wedding fanatic enthusiast.  And, for me, it was no longer silly!

As the event got closer and my anticipation grew, it became increasingly apparent that it was necessary to secure a foolproof strategy on how I was to stay awake and alert throughout this event. This is the strategy I came up with.

STRATEGY

Early morning wake-up

Extra long gym work out

Extra long bike ride

Extra long and late afternoon 4:00 pm nap
Make-up to stay AWake-up

Coffee at 10



My strategy involved waking me up and wearing me out so I would be guaranteed a longer, deeper nap preparing me for the late-night-long-morning extravaganza!!!  I had a plan...or so I thought!

Thursday, April 27 arrives!

5:30 am wake up!
Drop off kids at school.

• One full hour plus 10 minutes at The Gym
• Big Sugar Bakeshop, Studio City, and I'm first in line to order some special Wedding Treats.
• Mission Wines, Van Nuys.  Not for wine...but for candy.  British Candy! 
• No work so Boring Housework

I hop on my bike and ride in the heat, but not without a cool breeze.  For that I am grateful, but it seems to counter my strategy. That breeze picks me up rather than wears me out.  I reach my destination, toss my bike into the back of the van and take off to pick up the treats.  By the time I get home, I'm wide awake and ready for more.  Nevertheless, I force myself to lie down to wind down, but my body will not have it...it will not take that nap. 

So...I get up, prepare supper, pick up kids, eat supper...

...and sit in front of that telly as I catch up with the final day of wedding coverage with Piers Morgan and friends.

I wrestle with the idea of sleeping for a couple of hours - from 10:00 pm  to 12:00 am - and arrive late, just in time for the 1 am coverage.  I think it rude.  So I abandon that idea and try once more for that nap. I do it!  I sleep! But, Crap! only for 10 minutes!

I wake up to an e-mail...

"People are saying they aren't coming over until 1 am so they can sleep!  So the start time for the party has been now changed to 1 am for the pre-wedding coverage.  The wedding begins at 3:00 am!"

Ugh!
I should've gone with my gut!

That's okay.  I still have things to do.  The hat.  The sleepwear.  Assemble the treats. 

I begin with assembling the treats.

4 Prince/Princess cupcakes, 2 red velvet, 2 chocolate, 4 crowned shortbread, 2 milk chocolate Aero Bars, 1 white chocolate Aero bar, and 2 wine gums later and the platter is set.

The sleepwear is next in order.  I decide spring colors are most appropriate.  I borrow Her Highness's peach colored pajama bottoms and slip on a pretty light green and baby blue trimmed camisole. I then politely request of my host if it is appropriate to wear a white robe to a wedding.  She says "yes."  And my outfit is secured!

I'm now counting on procrastination to become the mother of some kinda Hat invention.  Forget in-vention...what I really need is Divine Inter-Vention.
And that's when Divine Inter-Vention did it's/her/his magic and it/she/he helps me pull it off....for Divine Inter-Vention has my eye catch a light green sparkly runner on Her Highness's dresser-top, and I yank that thing out from under Her plethora of stuff, throw it in the wash, dry it up, and wrap that runner around that hat. And, Voila!  Divine Inter-Vention  has transformed my hiking Hat into a wedding Hat. 


It's now 10 o'clock.  And this girl is ready to go.  How to fill the time? What to do?  What to do?  Send the kids to bed, do a little mending, a little Facebooking...or more than usual Facebooking and before I realize it,  Holy crap!  it's 12:30 am. I clean up, pack up and I'm off to the party.

I arrive at 1:05 am and walk into a room housing NADAR, 1 guest, one hat, one tiara and a dog.  There are sandwiches, tea, champagne, lemonade and creme de cassis.  I slip my treat plate in between the yummies and, of course, start off with a Kir Royale. As I choose my seat, my attention is immediately drawn to the GI-normous t.v. screen and I'm mesmerized.  Not by what is ON the GI-normous-screen t.v., but by THE GI-normous-screen t.v.  As the coverage begins, 3 more guests stroll into the party room just as wedding guests stroll into the church.  And I can spot every wrinkle and blemish on each and every person....on that GI-normous-screen t.v.  It is extraordinary!!!

And the party begins!

We make jokes.
We laugh.
We vote best hat: Victoria Beckham.
We vote best MILF: Mrs. Middleton
We vote best nose or not-nose: Tara Palmer-Tomkinson
(of whom we know nothing about which leads us on a wild Google chase for the next 15-minutes)

Best Bride ever:  Catherine Middleton
Best Dressed:  Pippa Middleton

We vote on who would want to be a princess:  5 votes YES, 1 vote NO.  Me, Myself, I vote NO.
We hang on bated breath for each Royal and non-Royal to enter the church.

Kate enters.  Bells are chiming, jaws are dropping, and palms are sweating. 

She looks absolutely Exquisite! 

As we continue to watch the ceremony, we continue to eat and drink.  And during enduring the boring segments, we play games and exchange our own wedding stories...horror stories...beautiful stories....funny stories.  We wait for and bear witness to the kiss.  Or, rather, in this case, kiss(es).   It was long, yet each and every one of us forces ourselves to stay.  Not because we don't want to miss one minute of the post-wedding coverage, but we don't dare go home until it is assured that each and every one of our kids are sitting in their seats, in their classrooms, within the walls of their schools, so we can go home to our beds and have a pleasant uninterrupted slumber. 

We continue to stuff ourselves with sandwiches, candy and drinks as the sun rises, and surprisingly, I am still feeling wide-awake, as are most of the others.  I and We have just successfully stayed awake throughout the night of an awesome and probably, most likely, the one and only party of this kind!!! 

Though, by 8 am, I start fading fast, and by 8:15, I have to say my goodbyes right away if I wasn't going to fall asleep on the road.  I'm home by 8:45 am, in bed by 8:50 am and back up at 11:05 am.  Can I have jet lag from going from L.A. time to Royal time to L.A. time in just a matter of an 8 hour period without ever leaving Los Angeles?  Apparently so.  So, yes I can!

Consequently but reluctantly, I finally surrender to an unproductive day while anticipating yet another busy evening.


So, later in the evening I take Her Highness to this...

To eat these...

Then we go to this...

(disguised to protect the innocent)

After I take her home,  I go to this...

(disguised to protect the innocent)

And by the time I get home, on the day of the wedding that started at 3:00 am, it is 11:45 pm,  I am exhausted.!

Since then, I have recovered.  I think. I may still be on Royal time...and a little "jet lagged."  No regrets!  I had a fantastic time!!!  It was certainly worth the price of the lack of sleep!  So to all you future-mid-lifers - if you have the opportunity to see a Royal Wedding in Los Angeles on Royal time with friends, hats, champagne, and a GI-normous-screen t.v., Do It!  You probably will never have a chance to do it again!  And know in mid-life there are still those once in a lifetime opportunities!  Even if they are kind of silly.  Because sometimes silly is what life is about!

Ciao for now

k