Have Shower Will Travel

For the last month, I've been preoccupied with throwing a bridal shower for my cousin Jennifer. With A LOT of help from my wonderful cousin, Lisa, we were able to pull off the shower I always wanted...er...a travel-themed shower. See, our cousin Jennifer's love of traveling and seeing other countries is something she passed onto me. I don't think I would have given much thought to the idea of how other people see the U.S. if I hadn't seen how much she traveled. In college, she went away for a year to Spain. I was in high school and hadn't traveled beyond Canada. I thought it was really gutsy to spend a year in another country. I still couldn't get up the nerve to do something like that by the time I got to college. I'd been to a few other countries but with my family. Hence we were on tour buses and I learned quickly that that was no way to experience a country. So, like Jennifer, I took my own trip in 2003 through several European countries and did the hostelling thing. Boy, am I glad. I met people from all over the world who became great friends--at least for that trip. Anyway, I knew this was the theme I wanted to do. After careful and thorough research on various blogs, Lisa and I borrowed a few ideas. I think they all worked out great. And for the first time, we had people eat outside in my parents' backyard.

The most cost-cutting thing we did was incorporate old maps into our decor. Lisa was going to go down to the local AAA office but she found tons of maps in her mom's garage. This is the great thing about most Asian parents: They always have old luggage that they used to visit relatives in China or Hong Kong and they save every map they ever bought or received.

Lisa cut letters out of some map and then glued them to the doilies. She also outlined the letters with a black marker so they would stand out more. She and my mom tied string around each doily and then tied them to a string draped across the window. We also added a bunch of tchotchkes that Lisa and I had that represented other countries i.e. a ukele and a mini Eiffel Tower.

We made paper airplanes out of the maps (or rather our guy cousins did) and clipped them to the laundry line.

Lisa found her old world map (Remember the USSR and when Germany had that whole East side/West side thing?) and pinned that to the fence along with more paper airplanes. We also put out luggage. They functioned as props along with a container for a shower game.

Our deck "decked" out with a world map, luggage. A borrowed patio table is decorated with flowers and framed photo of the bride.

Another budget-saving idea for favors: I hate to say this but airline barf bags. On other blogs, I saw people had ordered little plastic suitcases, which cost like $3 each, or made suitcases out of cardboard and decorated them with stickers. Um...yeah, not gonna happen. Either too much money or too much work. So, on the flight home, I went into the lavatory and took the entire stack of barf bags to my seat. But I still didn't have enough. So I asked the flight attendant after we landed if I could have some. They ran out of a fresh stack so he actually spent a few minutes helping me pluck bags from the seat pockets. We decorated the bags with stickers and rubber stamps with a travel theme. The only drawback was that when I opened one of the bags to stuff it, I couldn't get it open. It might be because of the wad of minty gum stuck inside. YUCK!

          Lisa really enjoyed telling people to go to "baggage claim" to get their favors.

For the table, we had foods that represented different countries Jennifer visited _ sushi for Japan, chicken satay for Thailand, a pavlova for New Zealand and some tropical fruit for Hawaii for example. Major kudos to my brother Gary for cooking almost all the food and my cousin Suzie for making the pavlova.

And of all the weird coincidences, the day before I went to the Maker Faire in San Mateo. There's a section called the Bizarre Bazaar where local DIY artists sell stuff _ everything from jewelry to soap to silkscreen T-shirts. Well, a woman who runs her own design business on Etsy, (http://www.etsy.com/shop/GrannyPantyDesigns) where she upcycles maps of all things into gift tags, flower bulbs, etc. She actually sold garlands of mini paper airplanes for $15. Since we already went to the trouble of making our own paper airplanes, I couldn't justify buying anything. But I found it impossible to resist these cupcake toppers.

Lemon-vanilla cupcakes with Earl Grey tea frosting _ one of the few things I made on this table.

Sorry, but those paper airplanes are effing cute.

We also adapted a game of "How well do you know each other" by making the bride to be wear ugly clothes that were packed in the luggage every time she got an answer that didn't match with her fiance's. Overall, I think everything looked pretty close to how I pictured. I liked putting little touches too like the globe and the travel books on the tables. We also labeled the beverage area as "in-flight beverages" and the gifts table "gift shop." Except for wondering how my life came down to rummaging in seat pockets with a Southwest flight attendant, I had fun doing it. That's partly because I had the BEST party-planning partner in the world in my cousin Lisa. She wasn't too anal, she wasn't lazy. She was just right. She did all the signage, put up most of the decorations and oversaw the games and ice breaker activities. And her husband, Nelson, a longtime family friend, was a gift from party-planning heaven _ patiently helping and not complaining once. I'm lucky a lot of my family also makes for the best team.

Dear Mike...

Dear Mike,

When I found out you needed a kidney transplant, I was really scared. I didn't tell you that I was scared at the idea of your no longer being around. But that's the world I live in now. No Michael Hogan.

I wish so much that I had made the time to see you during my visits to the Bay Area this past summer. But with all the family obligations and the other now seemingly trivial plans, I told myself there would be an opportunity to catch you during my next visit. Well, lesson learned. I know that you would tell me not to feel bad. You would say there's no way I could have known what would happen.

I keep thinking about the last time we saw each other. I had just finished running Bay to Breakers in May. As soon as I showered and changed, I took a cab over to UCSF to see you. Mister, I cannot believe you actually thought we could go out to lunch while being hospitalized for post-transplant/kidney-rejection issues! Watching you sitting on your hospital bed, I was stunned by how much weight you had lost. As Eric said, we know you loved that but it was still off-putting. But what amazed me even more was how focused you were on others during your recovery. First off, I didn't bring you anything. But you thought to ask your roommate to go get me a cupcake and cake pop from a local bakery as well as that gift certificate to Baker & Banker Restaurant. I still have no idea why you thought I was the one who deserved gifts. I haven't used that certificate. I had been saving it because it felt only right to take you there for dinner. Sucks that isn't going to happen. Presents aside, I was even more touched when I asked you how Eric was doing after donating his kidney. While Eric had already been out of the hospital and back to daily living for some time, you said you wished everyone would lavish attention on him instead. You said he's the one who made the sacrifice. The best thing people could do for you was to send goodwill and gifts his way.

For all the times you drove me to new levels of exasperation, you never failed to impress me with your kindness, consideration and charm. I remember in 10th grade, we had a joint birthday party at my house for all our friends with November birthdays and I told you that my mom would cook separate food for you because while everyone was OK with pizza, you loved Chinese. So, you thought to show up with a bouquet of flowers for her. Not bad for 16 years old, Mr. Hogan. I also remember during our senior year, it bugged the hell out of you that I was still getting picked up after school by my mom because I had no car of my own. So you took it upon yourself to offer you and Dennis as my personal drivers. I still don't understand that, LOL, but that was one of your quirks that added to the Mike-ness of you.

I know you used to worry too much that if you didn't hear back from a friend -- old or new -- by phone, email, text, etc., it meant they might not want to hang out with you or didn't care about you. I'm not sure if you ever grew out of that completely. But if you saw all the lovely things people have written about you, you would know your concern was for nothing. You may be afraid that with your passing, everyone is going to just forget about you. But I can tell you, I've thought about you every day since your death. That will be true in 10 months and in 10 years.

While I mourn the loss of all the things you didn't get to do or be in your too-short time here, you'll be with me. I know I'll be somewhere and I'll ask "What would Mike think?" Your absence doesn't mean the end of our friendship. I hope you know that I love you very much.

Always,
Terry

Recipes--what's your type?

  

A couple weeks before Valentine's Day, I spotted a link to this recipe in my Facebook feed from Foodista _ bacon chocolate stout cheesecake. For some reason, I became fixated on this recipe and I felt this inexplicable need to make it. I decided to make it for Valentine's Day just because that was the next holiday, meaning excuse, coming up. It got me thinking...dealing with recipes really is like interacting with the opposite sex. 

The way I became so intent on making this cake is comparable to lust. I actually thought about how or if I would make it while lying in bed. But there were so many steps involved in the process. First, you have to glaze and oven-cook the bacon yourself and then chop it into little pieces. Second, you incorporate some of the chopped bacon into the cake batter that includes chocolate stout. Then, you have to make the hot fudge sauce yourself that goes on top. You still have to sprinkle more bacon on top. And for the finale, whip the heavy cream and pipe that around the edge. It's like a guy you've only been on a couple dates with and he's absolutely yummy but you're not sure if he's worth the effort. Yet, you really want to know if he...er...would be pleasant on your palate. You have to ask yourself are you willing to commit and do all the steps in the recipe and find out. 

In the case of this bacon-chocolate cheesecake, I found the end-product to be pleasantly decadent but it helps that I know I enjoy chocolate and bacon. For some of my friends, the experience was actually close to orgasmic. Yet, afterward, I did feel a tinge of regret because of how full one piece can make you, hehe. I suppose remorse is a comparable sentiment as well. If this recipe were a person, I think it would be a tall, dark and sexy "mimbo" that a girl wouldn't pursue as relationship material. Because as delicious as this cake was, I don't want to serial-eat it. It's something I'd eat when I feel self-pitying or indulgent. And it was so much work, another reason I will rarely be eating it. 

I am a foodie at heart but I'm no gourmand. I definitely don't want to be considered a food-snob. Yet...I see foods certain ways. A chili dog would be the guy who's too into sports and doesn't care if he makes a mess in front of you. Pre-packaged ramen is like the bland nerd who stays chained to the TV or the computer so as not to miss a gaming event or an episode of "Battlestar Galactica." Chicken soup is the guy who is just a friend and you lean on him when you want something comfortable. Quiche made with fresh garden herbs, farmer's market cheese and some prosciutto with a gruyere crust, to me, represents the gay best friend _ colorful, tasty and looks great at the table at brunch or any bridal/baby shower. Sardines or liver and onions means you should fake an emergency and leave.

Sometimes, you find a recipe that you really like and it's even healthy yet has a spicy or flavorful kick. It stays with you _ becoming a part of your culinary repertoire forever. In foodie terms, I'm really not sure what that is for me (No, not a cupcake recipe). I am not the greatest in the kitchen. That's why I so enjoy perusing the cookbooks or cooking websites. There's no harm in looking, right?

My first time ... getting pulled over

So, I had my first "run-in" with the law this past weekend (if you don't count cops coming to your door because of a noise complaint.) I was driving down Roosevelt Street to the Phoenix downtown farmer's market Saturday morning when my friend Leah said "I think that police car is for you." I looked into the rear view mirror and sure enough, the police car was very close and had its siren lights flickering. Crap! I pulled over and then a male voice said to pull into an empty driveway. I pulled into a parking lot. Then for what seemed like an eternity, the policeman stayed in his car (probably looking up your plates--according to Leah).
"Gawd, the weekend is already starting off sh***y," I said.
I have NEVER been pulled over in my entire driving-life. The only thing I know is to never get out of your vehicle. My father did that before -- thinking he was being helpful (sigh).
I rummaged through the glove compartment and got out my registration. Then I picked it and my driver's license up and stuck my left arm out the window. 
"I might as well be helpful," I said, giving Leah a good chuckle.
The officer finally walked up and I was immediately apologetic. Honestly, I would fold like a cheap party chair in an interrogation.
"Sorry, that intersection's traffic lights are shut down so I guess I just went through."
"Why do you think I pulled you over?"
"Because I didn't stop at an intersection where the traffic lights have been shut off?"
"No. The street before that you rolled right through a stop sign."
Oops. According to him, a car in front of me stopped and I didn't. That's what I get for talking while driving. The officer then glanced down at my open wallet and he noticed I had a second Arizona driver's license.
"Why do you have another license?"
Oh gawd, is that against the law too? I thought.
I hang onto my old driver's license so I have something to use should I ever misplace my current one. But for him, I just said "sentimental value." He seemed to find that a good reason and went back to his car again. At this point Leah's trying to soothe me and I see a second police car has showed up. A second officer decided to back up his colleague and came around to the passenger side. He had Leah row down the window so he could watch her. Two police cars for little me? Geez. Next time I pass someone on the street surrounded by two police cars, I won't assume the driver must be some no-good d-bag.
The officer came back to my window and gave me back my license.
"So, what do you do?"
"I'm a reporter."
"Really?! Do you know another word for 'manage' that also starts with M?"
My first thought: WTF?! You want help with your crossword puzzle?
Leah and I looked at each other and came up with "monitor."
"Oh, that's a good one," the police officer said. Then he explained how he was writing a project for his bosses that's titled TEAM. But he hadn't yet found the right word to fill in the M. He said the last project he wrote was called "Project PIMP"  (three guesses what crime that relates to) and had been chronicled in local media. Project TEAM is related to homeless outreach, especially along the light rail.
I didn't know what to say. So I said,"Say, have you ever seen a guy dressed as Superman on the light rail?"
"Yes I have. He's not homeless. He actually does it for parties and has a business card. I also think he does it for attention."
Leah: "Gee, you think?"
It is then the officer makes my feelings go from regret to relief.
"By the way, I'm NOT going to give you a ticket. I'm just wasting your time now."
Like the good girl I hopelessly am, I didn't want him to think I was happy as though I got away with something and I took our conversation seriously. So I said: "Give me your email address so if I think of a better word, I can let you know."
He actually wrote down his number and his email on a police interrogation card; I guess he had no business cards that day.
So, I still am not sure if my being in the media actually got me out of a ticket or this officer was just in a good mood. But it was by far the most random, odd conversation I've had so far in 2013.
Next New Year's resolution: watch out for those stop signs!

!@#$% non-Asians say to me Episode 4

The other night, I had dinner with my journalist friend Tim. He's probably the most worldly guy I am friends with. No offense but if you think you should be in that category, just confirm to me whether you've ever covered stories in Libya or Afghanistan. Tim, who grew up in Bath, England, told me his mother used to tell him that she always thought Chinese people were "lucky." I was like "What?"
Here's a paraphrase of his explanation:
"She thought Chinese people were lucky. Whenever she saw one in the store, she would try to touch them ."
I couldn't help but laugh at the idea of this matronly British woman trying to more or less cop an (innocent) feel from a Chinese person. I figure maybe it seemed especially lucky as I doubt there were many Chinese people in a small town such as Bath (BTW, a lovely place to visit). Anyway, I'm sure there are millions of people in China who might not feel lucky all the time. I wonder how wide-spread this notion is. It could be a great excuse for a pervy guy with an Asian-girl fetish to pick up on a woman. Sorry, my mind always drifts to the darker corner. Well if someone ever tries that on me, he will find himself very UNLUCKY.

Can I buy you a drink...er...a morsel of food?

Let's face it. I'm inherently a good girl. There is a "nice" quality about myself that I can't shake. I realized this because twice in a couple weeks I've had men give me or insist on buying me food. It wasn't offered to me in a way like "hey baby, can I buy you a drink?" It was offered by way older men who wanted to feed me like a dad wondering if his daughter is getting enough to eat. For example, I went to Urban Beans, a local coffeehouse, which was celebrating a grand opening of its wine bar. My friend and I struck up a great chat with a guy _ Jewish and originally from Long Island _ and his girlfriend. The guy, Andrew, could not have been nicer and was refreshingly BS-free as Long Islanders tend to be. Before we left, I said I wanted a piece of Urban Beans' prize-winning Pink Diablo pie to go. Andrew wanted to get cupcakes and added my order onto his: "I got this for you."
Me: "You don't have to do that!"
Andrew: "I like you guys. You're really sweet."
This came a couple weeks after a random guy (older gentleman) at La Grande Orange offered me some of the extra bacon he got. (Without shame, I took some of his bacon; come on! It's the candy of meat!)
I always seem to attract older men and women wanting to take care of me or have me over for dinner. I went to my friend's aunt's house for Christmas. She doesn't live that far from me and said I could come over if I needed an interim mom.
I appreciate all this attention. But it amuses and perplexes me that a guy might not notice me at a part even if my hair was on fire. Yet, I have all these people doting on me in a parental way. Makes me wonder if I need to bring out my inner "vamp." Gawd do people even use that word anymore? But alas...then I remember, that is not part of my wiring. Well, at least I'll be well-fed.

!@#$% non-Asians say to me Episode 3

So, last night I went to our office Christmas party--which was in our building. I did NOT like the food but when you order from Safeway, can't expect much. This sounds sad but I stopped by my apartment complex Christmas party just because I was hoping they would have better food. I had to find something to cancel out the bland dinner I had (It's never good when food comes from the same color wheel) where there weren't even any vegetables. Most of the food was gone at the second party. But I at least got some salad and spinach enchiladas. Unfortunately I ended up sitting down next to some 50-something year old dude named Tony, who was leaning a little too close into my personal space.

Tony: "Are you the one who's always working out next to me in the gym room?"
Me: "No. I work out outside."
Tony: "Oh. Too bad."

A few sentences after that...
Tony: "So, what ethnicity are you?"
Me: "Chinese."
Tony: "My last girlfriend was Korean."
Thought going thru my head: "Who cares? What does that have to do with anything?"
Tony: "She was actually half Korean and half Nebraskan. She was high maintenance."
Thought in my head: "Is Nebraskan an ethnicity?"
What I said: "Sorry?"
Tony: "I once had a Chinese girlfriend. I met her in Kualalumpur."
Thought running thru my head: "Did you have to give your credit card number?"
What I said: "Oh."

Anyone who knows me, knows that if I'm giving monosyllabic answers, I am NOT having a good time. Despite all that *scintillating* conversation, when I got up with the excuse of getting a drink, Tony said "Be sure to come back and sit here. I think you're cool." Blech.

True Sis-mance

I was griping to a girlfriend on the phone the other night. She's one of the best listeners I know and never makes me feel like I'm imposing on her. For a second, I was so overwhelmed with gratitude that I blurted out "Will you marry me?" Of course, I was joking and for those of you who don't know me, she's a regular girlfriend. I'm straight like someone who just got the pants scared off them. But I was thinking, if as little girls, we can sport those broken heart pendants that together, say Best Friends Forever, why can't there be something like that for when we are grown women? Especially if the hetero girlfriend is someone who's always there for you, gets your humor and helps you get back up when you fall. And why do guys get a special word like bromance? Why can't girls have one? Or is this just a gender thing? Girls are always thought of as being all BFF-ish _ wanting to talk about their issues and hug it out. And hey, there are worse people for me to combine incomes with. Can we have commitment ceremonies for best gal pals? Please?