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.

Perezosa

Dear Reader,

Are you as lazy as I am lately?  Right now my ass actually hurts from laying on the couch.

The problem is I am completely exhausted after school.  On the days I don't have appointments for the wedding, I walk in the door, grab the mail, eat dinner and plop on the couch.  There I sit until at least 9pm when I can go to bed without feeling like a complete loser.  Sometimes I allow myself to go to bed at 845.  I'm so tired.  And such a loser.

Is it the weather?  Winter is always a tough time of year for me.

There are a ton of great Google Images of "lazy," but none which exactly capture the way I look right now like this one:

To a productive Thursday, Dear Reader!

It's a Weekend!

As far as I can tell, there are two major misconceptions students have about their teachers:

• they are not real people with feelings and lives
• snow days do not affect them

The first is normal, for some reason, and maybe has much to do with the second.  Did you ever have the Twilight Zone experience of seeing your teacher in the grocery store?  You mean she eats food?!  So do I!  Bizarre.

When I was a kid, I didn't really think about teachers on snow days.  There was no school that day, so the teachers, along with the school, simply did not exist.

Let me tell you, Dear Reader, I was w-r-o-n-g.

I truly love my job, but on this, the third snow day of the year, I am not sure students would be capable of conjuring up the excitement I and my colleagues expressed.  Before the snow day is officially declared, we hope, pray, flush ice cubes down toilets (yeah, I did it), turn our pajamas inside out, and do a literal, but impromptu, snow dance.

These things worked wonders this week, because we had yesterday and today off from school due to a ridiculous amount of ice (Mr. Peaches, whose school was not canceled, fell thrice since yesterday morning).

Here is a photo of poor quality that I took last night from the warmth of my apartment.

It's like a weekend during the week, people!

What are YOU doing?

I can't tell you what I'm doing right now, but I can tell what I'm *not* doing:

Eating Nutella with a spoon.

(This one is from one of my favorite blogs- toothpastefordinner.com)

THIS IS REAL:

In related news...

Happy Saturday, Dear Reader!

Snow!

Today is my very-first-ever snow day as a teacher!

Last night, when the snow started tapering off around 8, I decided we would have to go outside to do the snow dance, in a final and desperate attempt to get out of work today.  I looked at Mr. Peaches and sharply said, "Get your shoes on.  We have to get outside."

He returned my glance with a grimace and said, "But I'm in my underwear!"

"Snow.  Dance."  I replied with gritted teeth.

We stepped outside.  The Mister in his skivvies and I in my inside out pajamas- which my students told me would do the trick- stepped onto the front porch in the freezing cold and lightly blowing snow.  Quickly, we made up a dance and went crazy.  Until the neighbors spotted us, and then we zipped inside.

They may have made fun- but I don't have to go to work today.

Worth it.

Happy January 21, Dear Reader!

*Note:  Mr. Peaches did have to go to school today.  I'm not saying it's his fault, but he did not wear his pajamas inside out.  Just sayin'.

How Do You Measure a Year

One year ago today I began my student teaching.  In honor of this, I have decided to post again my writings from that very first day.  They made me laugh and remember all of my students from that time.

Today, I was very distracted reminiscing.  On my way to school, I missed my exit to change highways.  Then, I sat at a light until someone honked at me that it was time to move.  Spacey.

One year ago today, I was desperately missing cigarettes.  I had been without them for only a month and was doing pretty well except when I was super nervous, like on my commute in to school.  I still occasionally miss my commuting cigarette, even though the smell of smokes makes me nauseous most days.

One year ago today I was so scared.  The eighth graders drove me crazy, even on that first day.  While my own eighth graders have the ability to make me want to pull my hair out of my head, they are my eighth graders.  I have a relationship with most, and have an appreciation for something about each one.

One year ago a snow day was the furthest thing from my mind.  Today, I am wearing my pajamas inside out in solidarity with my students, rooting for Mother Nature to take her toll on our city.

One year ago today, a child asked me if I was ever going to get married.  Today I am planning our wedding.

So many things have gone so perfectly in the past year- our engagement, our apartment, our puppy, our city, Mr. P's school, and my job...  And for the first time I am even living my life without waiting for the other shoe to drop, for some part of my perfection to come crashing down around me.

I'd like to insert something about Rent here, please.

Spring and rings

I owe you several posts, Dear Reader.

I owe you a finished post about The Sims and a Happy New Year, which came and went so fast I could hardly stand it.

But right now on this cold and snowy January day, there are birds outside my door chirp, chirp, chirping away like it's April.  I didn't realize how much I've missed the sounds of those little birdies.  I feel the urge to grab a new cup of coffee and take a seat in one of my favorite spots- the front porch.  Those birdies are tricky today, though, because I know that no number of blankets- or even Snuggies- can keep me as warm out there as I like to stay.

News:  Mr. Peaches and I received our wedding bands this week!

Thanks to USPS Tracking services I knew when they arrived and I raced to pick Mr. P up from school. From the moment he got into the car we began scrapping.  It was no one's fault- it just so happened that we were both grumps at the same time, which is super, super rare and by the time we picked up the rings from the mailbox and made it inside the house I thought the Ring Moment was ruined.  And if we couldn't have a nice Ring Moment, maybe Our Marriage was ruined.  Maybe we shouldn't even have a wedding at all!

Grump.

Actually, worse.  Dramatic grump.

But then we opened the package.  I tore through the paper and finally stumbled upon a little box.

When we opened that little box we found this:

And the grumpiness magically died.  We slipped the rings on to make sure they fit and voila!  Love.

The rings were purchased from etsy, my favorite wedding vendor of all time, and through a little shop called Fabuluster, which I first read about here. (Yes, a year *before* we got engaged I was reading a wedding blog.  Say something.)

Anyway, the thought of having our rings sit in a box for six more months (OMG WE ARE GETTING MARRIED IN SIX MONTHS) was devastating to me, and I decided to keep mine on.  Mr. Peaches hated this idea, so we comprised.  I'm going to be wearing it on my right hand for the next six months, showing it off to everyone.  (Here it's still on the left though, obviously.)

Also, here you can see here the beautiful engagement ring my grandfather helped us have made.  Not only did he give us his wife's beautiful diamond engagement ring, he fully supported us changing it completely into something that fit who we are.  He worked with us at every step in its creation and then, in a final act of extreme generosity, he purchased it for us as well.

We are so lucky and so excited.