The Giving of Thanks- Part 3

We arrived in St. Louis around 830pm local time- after packing all the food we could carry, getting an oil change, some books on tape from the library, and stopping for a BBQ dinner- at the lovely Crowne Plaza.

This is how you save money on a trip.

As we walked in, there was a sign taped to the door announcing a Thanksgiving Day Parade in the morning, right in front of the hotel.  We decided to take it easy Wednesday night and spent the evening reading and relaxing in our very uncluttered hotel room with a gorgeous balcony overlooking the street where the parade happened to be traveling in the morning.  Perfect.

Thanksgiving morning we got up and enjoyed the warm weather on the balcony while we watched the parade for several hours, drinking coffee and eating granola bars, cake, and pudding.

There was Garfield:

Louie the Lightening Bug:

And a few Christmas favorites:

It was so much fun spending a quiet, entertaining morning together.

When the last piece of confetti hit the ground and the crowd dispersed, we walked down the street over to the arch and down the river.

We ate some high-end Thanksgiving lunch with the homeless of St. Louis (we were actually informed that there was a free Thanksgiving meal across the street if we wanted some): 

Afterwards we walked through the city for nearly three hours, checking out the beautiful architecture and the amazing greenspace the city has preserved within its limits.

Our favorite spot in the city was the this small sculpture park right downtown:

Our route looked more or less like this:

Then we went back to the hotel, took a nap, and got ready for a delicious hotel Thanksgiving dinner.  The dinner was definitely the only depressing part of our trip- it was me, Mr. Peaches, a guy eating alone, and eye-patch guy eating with his son.  And the workers.  :(  But the day was so warm and so great that it quickly overshadowed our depression.

After dinner we walked around the city some more, and wandered upon a teeny tiny casino.  Since we were on a budget, I grabbed our only cash out of Mr. Peaches's wallet- $1- and quickly stuck it into the penny slots.  Oh man, did we walk out winners!!

SIX BUCKS!  That's a 600% PROFIT.  HULLO.

We cashed out quickly and headed back to the hotel with our winnings to read and relax.

And that was The Peaches' Turkey Day 2011.  Perfect.

The Giving of Thanks- Part 2

Mr. Peaches and I had already been talking about taking a day trip during the long weekend after we returned from Thanksgiving with his mother- somewhere we could get to and back from on one tank of gas, and where we wouldn't have to spend any money on hotels.  One of us is still a college student, after all, and we need to save money at every turn.

Wednesday morning around 8 we began discussing our Thanksgiving Weekend options.  Eight turned into nine, and nine turned into ten.  I was getting antsy about all of the discussing and lack of decision-making. I started plugging numbers into Priceline's hotel options- choosing cities at random and trying to score a super-cheap hotel.  Nashville, Niagra Falls, Charleston (West Virginia), Pittsburgh, Detroit... I just kept trying while Mr. Peaches kept talking.  There was no way I would be able to find a 3.5-4 star hotel in one of these cities for less than $50/night.

But then I did.

I slammed the laptop lid down as I so often do when I am getting important information (see: Mr. Peaches LSAT scores, My Praxis results).  I looked at Mr. Peaches, who was still researching our options on the couch across from me.  An expletive crossed my mind as I realized I would now have to tell Mr. Peaches where we would be spending our Thanksgiving:

"I guess we're going to St. Louis," I said with an unsure smile.

"Um, when?" He replied.

"Right now.  Let's get moving."

Two hours later we were out the door, on our way to St. Louis, a hike-and-a-half away.

The Giving of Thanks- Part 1

Thanksgiving has always been an uncertain time for me.  It started around 2004 or 2005 when I split up with my boyfriend of the time right around Thanksgiving, which I was supposed to spend with him at his house. I was going to school on the East Cost.  Mama Peaches and my younger brother had recently moved to Hawaii.  My father was in Florida (and I wasn't very interested in spending Thanksgiving with him and his wife anyway).  My next closest relative, my aunt, lived in the midwest but celebrated Thanksgiving with her husband's family.

Mama Peaches, desperate I spend Thanksgiving with SOME semblance of family, bought me a flight out to my aunt's house for a very interesting Thanksgiving.  I continued to spend Thanksgiving with my uncle's family every year, and grew to love their very Cleaver gathering: Writing down the things for which they are most thankful (and then guessing to whom the thanks belong), allowing the youngest children time in the spotlight, no disagreements or passive aggressive tensions. 

Since meeting Mr. Peaches, we have spent two Thanksgivings at his mother's house, and one year at The Cleavers.  The plan this year was to spend the holiday again with his mother, just a few hours away, but she called on Tuesday to say that she had been sick and didn't think she would be able to cook or host. 

The Cleavers were going out of town this year.

My parents were eating at a friend's house.

Predicament.

And that's when William Shatner showed up.

The Boda

Our wedding wasn't perfect.

The only flower-related item I cared about at all was a tall, expensive arrangement on the dessert table.  Before the guests arrived during set-up, the vase was unpacked, then immediately dropped and shattered on the floor.  An alternative was quickly found, and I think I cared for about .3 seconds.

Several guests who RSVP'd that they would attend didn't come.  One "got a flat tire."  One couldn't make it out due to some sort of legal issue (?).  Two couldn't find a sitter (??).

And it stormed.  Oh, did it storm.
I obsessed about the weather for months leading up to our wedding day.  The last update I got was that it would be hot- really freaking hot (98?)- and there was about a 15% chance of thunderstorms, if I remember correctly.  It sprinkled for a few minutes during our first look but quickly stopped and the sun never stopped shining.  As Mama Peaches, my stepfather and I stepped onto the aisle a sharp, loud crack of thunder eerily sounded off.  This is what it looked like toward the end of our ceremony:

I didn't notice, but a storm was definitely a-brewing.  

After the ceremony Mr. Peaches and I took a brief walk to soak it all in alone.  We took a few more pictures and talked with a couple of guests.  Then the rain started.  But it didn't just start, it dropped down in buckets from the sky, which was lit bybright bolts of lightening.  Our fantastic day-of coordinator and the rest of the staff rushed everything inside, where we watched from here:

It wasn't perfect.  

But it was gorgeous.  And fun.  And the food was delicious.  Watching our friends become friends made us so proud to know such awesome people.  And I think the storm made it even more beautiful, though we did pay a pretty penny to watch the night skyline of our lovely city from outside.  Every moment was amazing.  And now I'm married to someone way out of my league.  SUCKA! 

It's Challenging

I love my job.

I mean, seriously.  I love my job.

I get to laugh- a lot.  I get to cut and laugh and color and laugh and make jokes that no one in the room understands and laugh and pat kids on the back.  I get to laugh and smile my way through the day.

Unless I don't.  I have one period of students who make my blood boil.  I try so hard to greet them warmly each day, and pretend to be so excited that we're going to sing a song I've already sung four times that day.  Almost every day I am animated and happy and I smile at them.  Six or seven minutes in I can feel my blood pressure rising.  They won't stop talking.  They won't listen.  They're disrespectful.  I'm out of ideas. I don't know what to do.  I have no control and they are only eleven.

The worst part is when I have a day like today- I yelled and they yelled back.  After I dismissed the class, one sixth grader screamed at me for a full minute at the top of his lungs.  Then I had to greet another sixth grade class: smiling, happy, excited.  I have to pretend nothing is wrong.  The inability to decompress just compounds my frustration and I need a break.

The good news is that it's only 50 minutes.  The very worst part of my day is only fifty minutes long and then it's over.  The rest of my day is stellar.  But those fifty minutes are so freaking tough.

And when I thought I couldn't take one more day this week I prepared my sub folder, stuffed with worksheets and instructions.  Then three students stayed for tutoring.  And two parents (!!) told me, "I appreciate you."  And the frustration melted away and I gained a little perspective.

And I remembered that tomorrow is another day.  And actually, not just any other day but Friday.


Friday.


Phew.

Sixth Graders

"Señora Peaches you called susana and I looked and I wasn't even talking and then you wanna say 1 (recess detention) and then I say what I do you say 2 (recess detentions) and then I walked right over to the poster and when I walked up to it to look @ it I said I hate this class and I also said always gettin in truble for nothing man I Hate It! And you say be quiet or im'ma write you up I said yay maybe If I try my hardest to be stupid she will congrate me!  And then the bell rang you told us how long we hace recceswith you I said OK and walked out maybe if you guys have camars in your rooms then I wouldn't have get smart with you! So yea, and you can call my mom if you would like cause I have witnesses to prove I wasn't talkin or playn or not even doing my work and I belive I didn't even inter up your class my moms number is xxx-xxx-xxxx (yes, she included the area code) and my dad is sick but you can still call him if you like!

THANK YOU have a good day!"

Within minutes of putting this note on my desk- which I hadn't even had time to read- this little girl looked at me with a big smile and said, "Nevermind about my note; I like this class now!"

I love my job.

I'm a Nut, Ha Ha

Make fun if you will, but one thing I always loved about going to my grandmother's house as a child was her basket of unshelled nuts.  I didn't really understand that each type of shell contained a specific type of nut- to me, each time I sloppily cracked one open with her shiny silver nutcracker was like unwrapping a Christmas present.  What could be inside‽  


I mostly forgot about grandma and her nuts (see what I did there?), and I think it's because I've never seen bulk unshelled nuts in any of my local grocery stores.  Always shelled.

Last weekend, Mr. Peaches and I went shopping at our local fancy grocery, the one that is a slightly longer drive than going to the store near us, but the rewards in the gourmet cheese section are great.  As I picked up a pack of shelled walnuts I keep on hand for cooking, I told Mr. P about my grandma's nuts (it doesn't get old) and how I wanted to be one of those couples who always have unshelled nuts and a nutcracker around.  Classy.  Fun.  Totally normal for twenty-somethings.  Or something.

Today we went back to that fancy grocery, on account of the cheese, and there,  right in the middle of the produce section was a huge display of a variety of unshelled nuts.  And in the middle of that glorious display were the shiny silver nutcrackers.  It's like they're listening!


I didn't hem and haw too long before breaking down and picking up two pounds worth, as well as my very first nutcracker.  Finally- we're classy! fun! normal!

We got home and I put away the groceries, saving the nuts for last.  I scoured the house for a cute basket or bowl in which to put them, and finally found a basket leftover from the wedding.  I poured the nuts into the basket- it's just the right size!  It contains two pounds of various unshelled nuts perfectly.  Then I checked around for our first nutcracker... which, apparently, was no where to be found.

I looked in the bags I stuffed away- nope.  I looked in the trunk of the car- nope.  I looked on the floor, on the table, on the counter, and on the stove- nope, nope, nope, and nope.

I have a basket of nuts and no nutcracker.  Not classy.  Not fun.  Not normal.

This is how we're gettin' by until we can stop back by the store:

And that's what I get for trying to be like my crazy old grandma.

Dear Blog, It's Me, Peaches.

It's been fourth months today since I wrote anything that wasn't related to the wedding or to work.  Even before that I didn't actually post interesting or regular content practically at all in 2011.  I gave up my anonymity so I could discuss the parts of the wedding that really excited me and suddenly found I didn't want to write publicly about it, and that really surprised me.

So, definitely those four months are lost, as far as blogging is concerned.  If you're picky, or I'm honest, several months before that have also been lost.

But I don't feel the hiatus is so long that I can't come back.  It's October November, and there are two full months left in 2011 to blog away!  Consider this the Peaches Revival.  And here's what you missed:

• Mr. Peaches and I got married, and it was awesome.  Really, really awesome.  I might even write about it.
• School started!  As August drew to a close I became more and more scared of getting back to school.  Year One was hard and instead of feeling empowered by it I felt like a kicked puppy.  Scared, sad, and confused that something I love so much could hurt me like that.  But Year Two is really rocking my socks off.

• Mr. Peaches began Year Two of law school and BECAME EMPLOYED, which, in this economy, is a very special accomplishment.  We get to stay in the city we love, and I don't need to search for a job.  

And those are pretty much all of the highlights from the last few months.  

Don't worry, I stayed classy... even at my wedding.

Meatfree Fast Food

Okay, so I have no pictures for you again.  Or, rather, I have stolen pictures.  

[Insert whiney, but it's not my fault! here.]

I took pictures of my dinners on Friday and Saturday night.  Unfortunately, something technological that I don't understand happened and all of my pictures got deleted and I got an error message for awhile.  I think it had something to do with hooking the phone up to my computer.  Don't do that, Dear Reader, no matter what CNET says.  So, stolen photos from the vast world of the Internet await you.

On Friday night Mr. Peaches and I drove 7 hours to my parents' house, after I worked all day.  Well, technically I drove while he slept.  Now, we do not eat fast food too often, and I was craving some Long John Silver's.  No meat.  Super greasy.  Delish.  

(My photo was better than this because I took it while the food was sitting in the to go bag on my lap behind the wheel, but this will do...)

Anyway, I was so excited when I opened the box and smelled its contents.  I quickly stuffed a piece of battered fish into my mouth and it was everything I dreamed it would be and more.  And then it hit my stomach.  It took me about 45 seconds to hate my decision to eat LJS.

And then I regretted it for the rest of the evening.

Ick.

Coming Soon... Do The Peaches survive the SMOKED PIG at the party on Saturday?

Be good, Dear Reader...be good.

The Pup!

The weather was so beautiful yesterday!

My little family and I went to a park where Mr. Peaches and I sat at the top of a hill to play fetch with Mr. Holden.  It still took over an hour of running to wear him out.

That dog loves him some fetch.

When we got home, Mr. Peaches had to continue studying for today's final and I wanted to cook something easy.  Here's what I came up with:

Okay, this looks boring, especially because the alfredo sauce was from a jar, but I sauteed the shrimpers in tons of butter, even more fresh garlic, lemon, and pepper.  Then I poured the shrimp leftovers (buttery garlicky goodness) into the boring alfredo.

It was pretty darned delicious I do say so myself.

This afternoon we are off to my parents' house.  I'm nervous about our meat restriction.  

Happy Weekend and Happy 50th Birthday to my stepfather!

Another Boring Dinner

Leftovers.  

Boring.  Delicious.  Fast and easy.

Holden and I went on another long walk tonight.  I should be grading papers, but it is SO BORING to grade a bunch of papers.  Maybe I'll actually do them at work tomorrow.

I miss Mr. Peaches.  We normally cook together at night but he has been busy studying away all week and I'm not motivated to do anything.


I also enjoyed this:

Wine not from a box for once.

Actually, wine my parents order (and graciously share with me) from this amazing winery.

This weekend, we are going to my parents' house and not eating meat there should really be interesting...

More to come, Dear Reader.

Finally, Some Real Food

That's right, I had Cap'N Crunch for dinner again last night.

Take it in.

I had just woken from a nap and Mr. Peaches was still at school studying for Friday's final, what choice did I have?  Make something delicious and save him some for when he got home tired and hungry?  GET REAL, Dear Reader!  You and I both know I'm too lazy for that.

However, when he did come home he made some of this delicious shrimp jambalaya from scratch:

I'm marrying a man who works all day studying for a final and comes home to make dinner for my lazy ass.

WINNING!

Stays Crunchy, Even in Milk!

One of the main reasons I wanted to stop eating meat was so I could force myself to learn recipes that do not involve meat.  Right now, meat is pretty much the main player on the dinner plate stage at our place since Mr. Peaches loves it so much.  So far, I am utterly failing to begin to meet this goal.

Here is my dinner from last night:

This happened for a number of reasons:

1) Mr. Peaches was at school all night, so, while I would rather have dinner with him any day of the week, he's not one that likes to have cereal for dinner and I so do.  So I did.

2) I don't normally buy Cap'N Crunch, even though it's completely delicious, because I read earlier this week that Cap'N Crunch was going to fade away into retirement.  (Though that's not the first time this story has made its rounds.)  I bought a box for old time's sake, just in case.

3) I am freaking lazy.  I'm still getting over the plague that overtook me on Friday and I didn't sleep hardly at all last night.  In an effort to preserve my workout regime I took the dog for an hour-long walk after school.  I was waaay too lazy to make anything.

Happy Sailing!

The Key to My Heart

Two words: Chipotle.  Guac.

I have a very weak spot in my heart (belly!) for some Chipotle guacamole, and I know I'm not alone.  It even inspired me to make my own guac last week, which was good (especially for a first try), but not a great match for Chipotle's.

Looking again at this dinner from last night is making me want to head straight back out there.

Special thanks to Mr. Peaches, who reminded me to take this photo halfway through the two.point.five seconds it takes to me to wolf it down.

Meatless Saturday aka 36 Days to Go

Last night we went out with a couple friends to a local gourmet pizza place, a delicious treat for all.

After we agreed on where to go, I was secretly worried.  My favorite pizza there is a buffalo chicken pizza with ranch dressing drizzle.  It's the only thing I ever even order, because it's the work of the gods, and I mean freaking delish.  Here's a stolen picture. The Best Pizza Evar is the beauty on the right (the hawaiian pizza was not ordered last night):

But this was good.  This is a chance to get me out of my comfort zone and eating things like mushrooms (yuck), peppers (double yuck), and sun-dried tomatoes (eh).  I was easily swayed from The Best Pizza Evar, though, when I found a pizza with GOAT CHEESE. 

GOAT CHEESE, which is pretty much my favorite thing lately.  Last week I bought half a "log" of goat cheese.  I ate half that night and took half the next day to school and had goat cheese and a few water crackers for lunch.  I freaking love goat cheese.

Here's a stolen picture of The Second Best Pizza Evar:  

I need to stop stealing pictures and remember to take my camera- after I get that SD card, which is supposedly upstairs.  

Happy Sunday, Dear Reader.  Be sure to Spring Forward.  I hope the weather follows suit this week.

Mahi Mahi Mahi Mahi

This is the poor photo of Thursday night's Mahi dinner (I need a card thingy for my camera and have to use my phone instead).

Yesterday I was sick and had half a bowl of cereal around 530; however, it was my only meal of the day so I was unsure if it counted and did not take a picture.

Here's one from the Special K website, if you're curious:

40 Days and 40 Nights

As you know, Dear Reader, I'm not a religious gal.  However, I have been toying with the idea of giving up meat for some time (save seafood, of course), but knew it would be a nearly impossible feat because Mr. Peaches looooves to eat animals.  He is not a Meat & Potatoes Guy, he is a Meat & Meat Guy.  He loves it.


Fortunately for me, he is Catholic and his job on Ash Wednesday each year is to give up something that he loves for 40 days.  This year, he considered giving up red meat... Until I challenged him to take it a bit further by giving up all meat (again, save seafood).  And I would join him.  We would become The Pescatarians, which is a name I quite like and that could possibly end The Never-ending Last Name Debate of 2010 (and may last until Death Do Us Part).

So pescatarians we are and last night was our first shot at it.  Here is our dinner:

(I may have eaten half my dinner when I remembered to take the photo.)

This was our first attempt at a Margherita Pizza, which, as you can see by the pizza sauce, we had no idea how to make.  (Hint: There is no sauce on a Margherita Pizza.)  We were even too lazy to look up a recipe on the interwebs.

I don't want to make any promises I cannot fulfill, but I'd like to post all 40 of our dinners here.  I'm hoping to get creative in the kitchen by the end, and learn that we can live without meat (seafood excluded) in every single dinner.

Otherwise:
Life is great.  Wedding dress purchased.  DJ contracted.  Mr. P is interviewing for summer internships, and I applied to teach summer school.  We are raring to go.