21. Give a wedding toast

As mentioned on Friday, I was asked to give a toast at my godsister Meghan's  wedding.  I was pretty nervous about being the center of attention until I finally realized a few days before:  All eyes would probably be on this pretty lady instead:

I would just be "that girl with the microphone".  That made me feel better. :)

Anyway, I practiced my short speech like I was headlining SNL.  I read it in the car to my friends Missy and Mali when he headed out to dinner the night before, where they raised invisible glasses up at the end.  I recited it over the phone to my sister.  I posted it on my blog.  I had Dan listen to it on the car ride up. I ran through it with my parents.  I was ready as I would ever be!

Until I got violently sick that afternoon.

I have no idea what was in my breakfast burrito or the salad I ate that afternoon, but I felt like death. (My bet is on that damn breakfast burrito.) Don't think it was "just nerves" either.  No way.  It was a pretty miserable three hours, ending when I burst into tears while envisioning me sweetly pronouncing, "To the happy couple!" followed by the pea-soup scene from The Exorcist. 

Somehow, thank goodness, by loading up on medicine and refusing to eat anything but plain bread at dinner, I rallied and made it to Meghan's big day.

Spoiler alert:  the speech went great!  I had an awesome audience, eliciting a few chuckles and a chorus of "awwws" at the end.  I didn't even feel like I was the the center of attention.  No, that honor went to another person...

My dad.

But perhaps I should back up.  My dad is quite the extrovert and managed to make friends with all the groomsman during the rehearsal dinner.  By the end of the reception, everyone was loosening their ties and the music was pumping.  I was finally able to exhale and have a drink, grateful my role was over.  Suddenly, Dan and I heard the entire dance floor chanting, "Go, Steve!  Go, Steve!  Go! Go! Go, Steve!"

There was my Dad busting a move in the middle of the wedding party. :) I guess I didn't get my shy streak from him- ha ha!

Anyway, I'd say this "just do it" challenge went pretty well!  And the wedding was fun and crazy to boot. 

I'll leave you with a progression of the night.  Here is my family (and Bethy's boyfriend far left) at the beginning:

And here is our photobooth pic near the end of the night:

I'll toast to that.

Can I get a "Here! Here"??

So my cousin Meghan asked me to give a toast at her wedding this upcoming weekend.

My response? "Uhh... sure! (nervous laugh), I'll just need a cocktail first! (nervous laugh)."

In my head:  *nervous laugh*  Eeek! 

Then:  What will I write?  I don't know anything about her relationship at all... Man, I wish I just had one story I could weave into my speech!  Should I try to be funny?  No, I don't want to hear crickets chirping...  Should I talk about how I know her and how our familes have spent almost every Thanksgiving with her family?  Nah...  Maybe I'll just read a sappy poem?? 

Finally:  Oh! And I need to get Dan to be that guy that calls out "Here! Here!" after I say "Raise your glasses to the happy couple"!  This girl doesn't want any awkward silence when I finish!

Speaking of Thanksgiving, the below pic is from this year's holiday outside Maggiano's.  (Our moms wanted a year off from cooking- ha ha!)  See the glowing bride in the middle? Side note:  look at the bottom.  The red hat? That was her son, who tried to photobomb us at the last second, but was too short to make it in the shot.  :)

But back to the speech.  Ya'll, I hate public speaking. I realize this is kind of random phobia for a teacher who has to speak in front of three classes of 30+ kids daily, but that's so much easier. Those kiddos are fourteen and half tuning me out anyway. This will be to drunk adults!  And again, while I know that they are a very happy couple, I don't have much of an idea about cutesy stories or anything.  I got nothing.

Well, not nothing.  I have a start, and it will do, I think.  Mind if I share with you and you can send feedback?  The one thing I know about her relationship is how he proposed, which is cute.  So I'm milking that one story for all I can.

Here's what I have so far:

Hi, I’m Christen, Meghan’s godsister. When she first asked me to make a toast, I thought to myself, “Boy, do I have some stories I could tell about Meghan!”


I’ve known Meghan for many years and almost every year for the last three decades our family has spent Thanksgiving together. Instead of telling you all my stories, I’ll just tell you one tidbit you may already know about her: Meghan loves her sleep. I know after the big turkey meal, Meghan always, no matter what, is sure to take her nap. Anyone who knows Meghan knows that she really enjoys her sleep, whether it’s a holiday or not. And this brings me to the story of Meghan and Tremayne’s engagement.

They were on vacation when one morning Meghan was awoken by Tremayne when he turned on all the lights. Of course, she didn’t want to wake up because she loves her sleep, so she begged him to turn the lights off, but he told her to open her eyes. And when she cracked an eyelid, she saw him waiting with a ring and a proposal. You know, I can’t think of a nicer way to wake up than that.

So, if you would, raise your glass! To waking up to love each morning! We love you and wish you all the best!



Okay, all toastmasters out there.  What do you think?  Any tips for nailing this thing?

My blog is strutting her stuff...

You see, the ole blog just got a makeover from Designer Blogs. And I'm loving her new, modern look, but not as much as she is. She keeps singing this:

Apparently my blog is partial to cheesy 90's music, like "I'm too sexy."

Keep the ego in check, Blog.

Things I'm afraid to tell you

This blog topic was the genius idea of Ez from Creature Comforts and several other bloggers.  Basically, bloggers are airing their metaphorical dirty laundry, their faults, their insecurities.  Then, Mimi and Meg, a fabulous blog, decided to keep this honesty revolution going, so I thought I would join. 

Things I'm Afraid to Tell You

1.  I'm scared of burning out as a teacher.  Mind you, I don't think this is happening yet.  I still put in way too many hours and try to come up with great lessons.  I just don't want the non-stop stress to get to me and somehow turn into Ben Stein in Ferris Bueller's Day Off.   "Anyone?  Anyone??"  

2.  Our laundry is never done.  Ever.  When I look for, say, my striped shirt, I need to check my closet, drawers, two baskets of clean clothes spilling out onto the living room, and the dryer.  Dan and I have a silent power struggle over who will be the first to cave and fold. It could be a psychological experiment on marriage: let's put this basket and a couple in a room with a two-way mirror.  What can I say? It's the one chore we both hate.

3.  Dan's better at keeping his cool than me.  All you married folks know the rules:  Don't go to bed angry.  Don't yell.  Don't bring up other issues in a fight.  How a couple fights is deemed just as important as how compatible they are.  Yet I'm ashamed to admit that Dan is usually an all star at fighting because he follows all of these rules like a diligent student and is able to keep Obama-style calm.  I'm not saying that he's right in fights, but he does know how to fight right, if that makes sense. I, however, am the one who will have to apologize for the way I fought, for stomping out of the room or for bringing up "Yeah?  Well, you didn't do the dishes last night!" during a quibble about, say, money.  It's one marriage thing I'm definitely continuing to work on.

4.  I feel guilty about needing a break.   After my miscarriage last September, I cried off and on for three days.  Then, I talked with Dan about putting our efforts towards a family on hold.  I was exhausted from a year of peeing on sticks and, of course, our loss.  Many of you have been there before.  The blood clots the size of silver dollars, having to go through an ultrasound with no exuberant "listen to the heartbeat!" moment, the "it wasn't meant to be" platitudes, the follow-up visits to the gyno flipping through Parents magazine listening to pregnant patients complain about swollen feet... I was done.  I thought I would take off a month or two.   Fast forward seven blissfully carefree months later, I finally am ready again.  

I am afraid to say out loud that I feel guilty and self-indulgent for taking that much time off (wasting all that baby making time) and am scared of trying again, of losing, of our lives changing.  I just keep wishing someone could promise me that none of this would hurt at all.   Which is silly, of course. 

I know this is heavier than my other things (hard to compare number 4 to, say, leaving laundry on the floor).  I'm not posting this because I want any sort of responses; it's just that baby stuff is on my mind a lot and if I'm going to reveal shit I'm afraid to say, this has to be on it.

What are you afraid to tell people?  Feel free to click here and join too!

Look who's coming to dinner...

Nobody.  I just like taking photos of my new Target dishes.  Yes, I set the table for fun.  **cough* nerd! * cough**

 

But look!  Everything's so beachy and modern!

I picked up the Target lantern and the dishes, and then just spray painted the middle tray with Rustoleum paint in Key Lime.

Dan and I had his family over this weekend for Mother's Day, so I did get to eventually bust everything out for actual people and not just a mini photo shoot. It doesn't take much to entertain me on a Wednesday night!

 

My favorite part is the striped plates:

I also wanted to share an entree and dessert I found on Pinterest and tried.

The first one is chicken lettuce wraps (same taste as the one from that chain Chinese place P.F. Chang's).  Click here for the full recipe and details.   It's a fresh, summery meal, albeit a tiny bit time consuming.  Here's the ingredients for the sauce:

You just chop up chicken, water chestnuts, onion, and mushrooms, and you're in business.

I keep making it and then eating it for lunch two days afterwards.  Crunchy-iceberg-tangy-spicy-yum.

For Mother's Day, I made this three ingredient key lime pie for Dan's family.  Get Nellie and Joe's Key Lime juice and follow the below recipe:

Nellie & Joe's Key Lime Pie

9" graham cracker pie crust

14 oz. can of sweetened condensed milk

3 egg yolks (whites not used)

½ cup Nellie & Joe's Key West Lime Juice

Combine milk, egg yolks and lime juice. Blend until smooth. Pour filling into pie crust and bake at 350º for 15 minutes. Allow to stand 10 minutes before refrigerating. Just before serving, top with freshly whipped cream, or meringue, and garnish with lime slices.

I forgot to take a picture, but it was delicious.  And a total coincidence that it matched with my new dishes.  :)

Pie pic via here.

Misadventures in double dating

Let me begin by saying that Dan and I are not total spazzes.  Sure, Dan can exaggerate a story like Will Ferrell in character.  Yes, I definitely have a Rachel Ray on speed thing going on when I am all about something, and am at the same time a complete space cadet, forgetting what I'm saying in the middle of a story on a daily basis.  Wait, where was I?

Oh yeah, I just want to note that we generally reserve are wacky, oddball sides for close friends only.

I do believe that our veneer of sanity cracked this weekend, though.  Dan and I went on a double date with this really sweet, laid back couple Anna and Matt we've hung out with a couple of times around our city, and they decided to join us for kayaking for the day in DC on the Potomac.  The plan was kayaking, dinner, a movie, and then crashing at my parent's house since they were out of town for a wedding.  (I realize that last part sounds like the premise for an high school 80's movie.)

Anyway, kayaking started out so beautiful, with gorgeous weather and the views of all the monuments.  Anna and Matt were totally relaxed and just enjoying taking in the atmosphere.  There were ducks.  There was a light breeze.  There was the sounds of the water gently slopping at the side of the boat.

Then, I looked down and saw this about two feet away:

No, this is not my picture because I didn't have a camera with me.  And I would not have had the forthought to snap the shutter in order to document it for my blog because I was trying to keep from wetting myself.  And our snake was very, very close. But the above gentleman is about the same size as the one we saw, and our guy's head was raised out of the water like that.

Anna and Matt looked over bemused while this was going on in our kayak:

Me:  Ahh!  Snake!!  Dan!!  Row!!
Dan:  (yelping profanity under his breath).   F*&^!!  S&*^!  Holy mother &^%^&!
Me:  Dan, it's almost at our boat!  Row in the front!  I can't get my oar in the water without touching it!!
Dan:  Ahh!  Yeckkk!
Me:  Row!  Row!  Please row!  He's about to slither in our kayak!

Anna and Matt:  Hahahahahahahahah!

To be fair, we were low enough to the water that I could have seen a "Snake on a Kayak", not to be confused with the classic film Snakes on the Plane, situation going on.  Dan was pretty sheepish about the whole thing afterwards until Matt was nice enough to say something like, "It's okay, man.  Even Indiana Jones doesn't like them."  I guess that's a guy comment that loosely translates into 'You're not any less of an Alpha male seeing that bad ass Harrison Ford pretended to have a snake phobia too."

The rest of the night was nice to hang out, just pizza and 21 Jump Street and beer and talking.  Of course, this wouldn't be a "misadventure" if there wasn't one more awkward moment.  So we arrive home about 1:00 a.m. and Anna and Matt head to bed while I stayed down to clean my mom's kitchen.  I had put them in the guest room, where Dan and I always stay, because it's the best room in the house.  Anyway, after about fifteen minutes of unloading the dishwasher, I went upstairs to join Dan. 

Yes, folks, you've probably guessed where this story is going.  You see I always stay in the guest room every time I have visited my folks during the past five years, which is pretty often. I somehow completely blanked that I was supposed to be in my parents' room and that we had company and casually walked into the... wait for it... GUEST room, thinking I was just going to sleep.  Luckily, Anna and Matt were just hanging out and looked up at me all surprised, and the reality of my spaced out move slapped me suddenly in the face, and  I could barely stammer out, "I'm so, so sorry!  I always stay in this room and just forgot I was supposed to be in my parents' room!"   Mortifying.  I am seriously covering half my face as I type this.

I think the nicest thing someone can do in a situation like this is crack up, which they mercifully did when I shut the door, so at least they don't think I'm some wierdo who was trying to crash their "me time" or something. Thank goodness Anna and Matt were totally fun and hilarious and good-natured about our two spastic moments.

Anyway, just wanted to document our dumb double date moments before Dan exaggerates the snake story into "Did I mention it was a viper out for blood?"  Refer to paragraph 1.  Got to keep it real!

Pic via here

Show me the...

Monet!

As stated previously, I've been waiting to use this title on my last France trip post.  Totally worth it.  

Alternate titles were way suckier:  "Monet makes the world go round", "The Full Monet", or "How many more damn posts is she going to write about one f&%ing trip???"

These pictures probably don't need much explanation.  Dan and I spent our last day in France driving on tiny winding roads in Giverny, passing these shockingly yellow fields:

I know Monet is kind of a one-trick pony with his messy-close-up-but-pretty-far-away works.  I know that his prints of his paintings of lilypads hang in every dentist waiting room in the country because they just have to be soothing.    Still, I always thought it would be neat to visit the place he gathered his inspiration for his works.  I actually thought his gardens were almost as dreamy.

Camera use was strictly forbidden in the house, but I was okay with it because it wasn't quite as magical as the outside.  It was cute, though.  He was really into pastels, as you could probably guess from his saccharine paintings.  Like his entire dining room was a butter yellow, right down to the curtains and chairs.  His bedroom was lavender.  There was a mint green studio.  It was like an Easter basket in there.

Again, not much to explain.  Just slashes of color everywhere and wannabe Monets kneeling down to sketch, like these cute kids on a field trip.

We got to check out the lilypads and this bridge that launched a thousand paintings:

 Kind of made me want my beret and easel myself.

Anyway, fast forward a couple hours, we drove back to Paris and had one last taste of food we couldn't pronounce, while the rest of the evening was all about taking a final quickie tour of Paris at night.

We capped off our trip with one last view of the hourly Eiffel Tower light show. 

Bling blizzle.

Thanks for virtually stowing away in our suitcases!

My weekend in photos

I'm writing up my last (promise!) post about my France trip tomorrow, but felt like breaking up all the Francais talk with some other photos.  Were you sipping a mint julep or a margarita this weekend?

Okay, random weekend breakdown.  It is kind of listy to go with my list theme, so I figured it works.

Friday, Dan and I went to our favorite Mexican restaurant:

and had this fried ice cream with about a two inch shell of fried dough around the ice cream center.  I kind of hated myself afterwards and made Dan run two miles the next day with me to try to work it off.  Or work off about two spoonfuls.

This is the same place I celebrated my 31st birthday this year.  Classy pic of me wearing the child's size sombrero, right?

Saturday, Dan coaxed me into waiting in a three hour line and another two hours on a stadium bleacher to see the President's rally.  He teaches government and had never been to one before.  I have to say even though the whole experience was a time suck (five hours of waiting), it was pretty interesting to hear a presidential speech in person.

That night, I hung out with friends for Cinco De Mayo, just some drinking and gossiping. Mali made her famous margaritas (limeade, beer, tequila).

I just had to share this picture of my friend's daughter.  She cried some crocodile tears until she got to suck on a lime, just for her little baby version of Cinco de Mayo.  Cutest thing ever.

Mali always makes some kind of fabulous treat.  This time she brought a caramel and chocolate pie that is my new favorite dessert.  It's just really gooey, salty, sweet, holy-calories-Batman- amazing.  She said she posted the recipe on Pinterest, so I'll have to snag to share later.

Sunday has been pretty low key (just normal chores and planning), but I did start an amazing book.  Have any of you read this?

It kind of reminds me of The Perks of Being a Wallflower meets... maybe... My Sister's Keeper.  Actually, that is probably selling the book short because it's a bit deeper than that, an unsentimental look at a teenager with cancer.   Randomly, it is written by the same guy that wrote that hilarious book that contained every curse word imaginable that was assigned to my eighth graders for summer reading one year.  I wrote a blog post about it a while ago since I was scared of the onslaught of parent complaints I would be receiving because whatever teacher picked the book had obviously not screened it for the thirteen year old sect.  Anyway, I haven't finished it yet, but have really liked it so far.  I'll let you know what I think when I finish it.

What did you do this weekend?

The Art of French Eating

When Dan and I were planning our France trip, we both listed several "must do's". 

Mine kinda went like:

* Eiffel Tower

* Mona Lisa

* Eat crepes...

* and chocolate eclairs..

* and pommme tart...

* and profiteroles with chocolate sauce

Nailed it.

We're serious about eating well while on a budget when we travel.  I found a kick ass website about the best bakeries in France that I printed and carried everywhere, and Dan humored me by gorging alongside.  One thing to note for this food post: since I was trying to be as non-annoying as humanly possible (seeing that not speaking the language already set me waaay back), I kept my nicer camera put away.  It just seemed too touristy and tacky to whip it out.  I did covertly snap a handful of blurry pictures with my smaller camera, sans any flash, when the waiter was away, but I'll use borrowed pictures from the interweb to depict the dishes I couldn't capture. 

Anyway, on to the food!

Ten Best Indulgences in France,

in no particular order

1.  Drink-off tie:  This Parisian bellini that was all ready to go to a rave, glow stick and all.   Techno music time:  Mmmmm.... ssssss... mmmmm....sssss!

Tied with...

2.  The homemade cider in Brittany was no joke since it went down like apple juice and they served it in teacups that were decievingly bigger than one might think.  I'm a little loopy in the below picture after only two:

3. Escargot-  I had never had this dish before, but I loved, loved, loved it, ordering it in three different restaurants.  If you've never had it before, it tastes a tiny bit like soft calamari with a glorious garlicky, buttery sauce that you can use sop up with bread.  Plus, you can have your Pretty Woman moment when using the tongs. 

Via here

4.  French onion soup-  I mean, look at that bubbling cheese.  No, that's not my picture (see above:  photos in restaurants = justifiably pissed off waiters), but it looks like every bowl I had.

via here

5.  Beef Bourguignon-  I had always been intrigued about this after seeing Julie and Julia.  Dan and I both had it one really cold night in Dinan, and they brought out little cast iron pots of this pot roast.  Coziest meal ever.

6.  Crepes and galettes-  This was actually one meal that skeeved me out when they first placed it down because the egg yolk almost looked raw.  I guess us Americans are hyper vigilant about cooking temperatures and such.  Then, I finally started thinking "Mmm.. salmon" instead of "Uh-oh, salmonella", I resolved to eat around the center, and it was damn tasty. 

When the waitress came back, she rolled her eyes at the sight of the lone yolk, though.

7.  Profiteroles-  This was probably my favorite of all the desserts.  Nothing could beat decadent ice cream/mousse inside a puffed pastry with hot chocolate drizzed on top and fresh grated coconut.  Just... wow.   

Via here since mine didn't come out

8.  Creme Brulee-  Excuse the blurriness, but Mr. Fire Marshall was so funny about letting it burn out on his own.  Safety first!

9.  Pastries from Lauderee:

I already told you about these, but it bears repeating.  If you go to Paris, go to a store, close your eyes, and point.

10.  Jacques Genin Bakery:  Dan and I spent about an hour trying to find this place because I heard they are the best.  It was time well spent.  We ordered super soft salted caramels, bittersweet eclairs, and the most amazing lemon tart I've ever had. 

The best part though was that we went the day before Easter, so the owner had an art gallery of chocolate figurines set up.  I was too shy to take pictures inside, but I should have.  The bear in the display window was cute and all, but the inside ones, hand painted with colored sugar, were completely edible modern pieces of art.  It was the candy equivalent of the Louvre.

Side note:  I had a Lean Cuisine and a stale granola bar for dinner tonight.  I think it's safe to say that I miss the food!  :)