Supermarket Sweep!

Dear Glob,

My roommate (aka Mother) is a bad influence. Today she feigned sickness to come home 2 hours earlier, and also plans to take tomorrow off with the same weird excuse that her "bones ache." Sheesh, how am I ever suppose to learn good work habits with her in the house? Anyway since she was home early, we decided to go on a Shoprite run to buy foodstuffs for the upcoming soiree...

The Bun Bash: a Party
shamelessly abusing the
"There's a Bun in the oven"
theme to the point of overkill
Saturday, Dec. 2 @ 1pm

...I love going to the grocery with Mother, especially nowadays when I get put whatever the hell I want in the cart, no questions asked!!! When we were a young family, Mother would keep us on a tight budget, not allowing us brand named frivolities. Instead of Coco Puffs, we would have Coco Comets. We played with Maxie in lieu of Barbie. And when we pleaded for Fruit Roll Ups, Mother brushed us off with the same dreaded word: "Someday..." This was a frequent occurrence:

Little Chewie: Mommy, can I have a Happy Meal?
Mother: Someday...
Little Chewie: Sad meal, sad meal.*

Soon all 4 of us grew up, and Mother began to indulge us with all of our childhood fancies. Oh joy and rapture unforeseen! Not only did we have Fruit Roll Ups, but our pantry usually contained at least 3 boxes of different flavors to accommodate each kid's preference. In the event that more than one of us were partial to Shockin' Rockin' Red Razzberry, Mother would even make sure to stock up to avoid sibling squabbles. This amazing development has turned into one of my worst vices, and I constantly have to hold myself back from buying Little Chewie cravings.

Sadly as I grew older, my body/taste buds drastically changed. I now know that I can't eat McDonald's without feeling a little bit woozy, and that Geno's pizza just doesn't taste as good as it did before. So today as walked through the cereal isle, I tried to ignore Little Chewie's fond memories of Fruity Pebbles, because I know I'd probably have one bowl, be disappointed and let the barely eaten box grow stale. And I hate wasting food.

Little Chewie: But we rarely got to eat Fruity Pebbles back in the day. Sad meal, sad meal.

Yes, I know Little Chewie. This is the reason I can't wait for the next generation of Buns to arrive so I can spoil them silly with the hyperactive sugar filled food of my youth... and, of course, so I can once again relive a bowl of Fruity Pebbles with Little Chewie.





*Although all of this "depravity" is indeed true, I still believe I had the most rich and wonderful childhood experience. Thanks Parents!

The Ant vs. The Grasshopper

Dear Glob,

These past few months of unemployment have been restless, with uneventful days wasted away in a Waterbed black hole daze. Yesterday I decided to try something new in search of some forward momentum. Not only did I embark on my journey to become the world's greatest blogger, but I also got my haircut in attempt to upgrade my personal hygiene and, more significantly, schlepped myself to a temporary staffing agency. Lo and behold, today I worked a 9-5 shift at Lamont Doherty, helping a Scientist cite a chapter in his book. One would think I would be miserable with my reinsertion back into the daily grind, but it was quite the contrary. As I started compiling citations and entering data into Excel spreadsheets, part of my brain burst wide open and a driving force "woke" me up. Next thing you know I was expertly executing a top notch bibliography while brainstorming Christmas presents and researching Habitat for Humanity's upcoming project in Hawaii (anyone remotely interested?). Multitasking and crazy "impossible" dreams have returned! So the apparent cure for my Idleness Slump? Work.

On a long commute home, my sister P. and I were talking about how we thrive in work environments. Sheepishly both of us came to the conclusion that we were workaholics by nature, which prompted P. to remember a conversation she had with her husband, the Whale. During an episode of Northern Exposure, John Corbett's (better known as Aiden from Sex in the City) character has an existential breakdown at the neighborhood bar. Everyone is dogging his starving-artist-live-in-a-trailer lifestyle, when a frustrated Aiden proclaims that he is a Grasshopper and everyone else is an Ant. Not to get confused with the well known Ant and Grasshopper folktale, where the Ant diligently works through the summer while the Grasshopper screws around only to freeze his ass off during the winter as the Ant makes s'mores fireside in his comfy cabin, I think Aiden's Grasshopper symbolized a fancy free, no frills attitude whereas Ants are too caught up with work and snazzy fire pits to enjoy life. At the conclusion of this scene, the Whale (with his Grasshopper spirit) lamented to P. (and her Ant tendencies) about the lack of Grasshoppers in the world. P. confided to me during our ride home that she was OK being an Ant, but then told me something that constantly makes me reevaluate my life. The Whale thought I was a Grasshopper.

I always want to think of myself as the artsy creative type. When posed with the theme "Caught on the Web" on my High School Regents English exam, I chose to write a story about a man who lured unsuspecting prey into his booby trapped alley. It was the most fun I've ever had taking a standardized test, and never did it cross my mind that I was going against the grain. Next week during class, my teacher pulled me aside to let me know what a ruckus I had caused with my "special interpretation." Everyone else had written about the Internet and how it was changing our society, and I... had written about a Spiderman. Luckily, my English teacher had a soft spot for my eccentricity and I passed despite the digression. Ultimately my "Caught on the Web" story became the red herring on an upcoming poetry test, which to this day is one of my most cherished accomplishments.*

What does this all amount to? When given all the free time in the world, I spend my time playing Solitaire and watching back to back episodes of Law and Order... But when you throw a temporary 9 to 5 session of Excel into the mix, I'm suddenly all Carpe Diem.



So here's my own personal existential breakdown:
Am I a Grasshopper or an Ant?











*Again, my small readership, that story is for another post.

Kitchen Confidential

Dear Glob,

Its weird (or maybe not... now that I think about it), but every time I visit someone at their house or apartment, at some point I start rummaging through everything in their kitchen. Regardless if I'm hungry or not, upon finding something I want to eat I shamelessly help myself. Now don't get the wrong idea - I only forage for food in houses I feel comfortable in (e.g. relatives, close friends, etc) and after many a refrigerator interrogation, I have concluded that there's no better places for a scavenger like me than the "Banlas" (or basically anywhere Tree is) or "Japunan"* residences. Each of these two houses have different things going for them. Observe.

The Banlas house:
This kitchen is a perfect blend of comfort food and haute cuisine. One day I'm chowing down on refried Adobe (yes, refried) and the next day its Braised Short Ribs with a red wine reduction. The real "sweet spot" is their stove, which almost always has pots stewing something delicious. Case in point: During one of the Banlas's famous barbecues, I opted for the big pot of Nilaga (Filipino beef soup) simmering on the stove while everyone else headed for the grill.** People didn't even know what they were missing... Suckers, you snooze you lose.

The Japunan house:
Tita O. is one of the most creative shoppers I have ever met, hence her kitchen is full of cool things like panini makers and the ever so famous Chocolate Fountain. How this translates food wise is that the pantry is always stocked with the "theme of the month" products. These themes are usually sparked by catering/gift basket ideas. For example, once Tita O. found some pretty lime green gift boxes, which lead to key lime cookies, key lime filled chocolates, key lime macaroons, and key lime flavored marshmellows... The Iron Chef-esque variety is stunning.

True Story: While Google imaging the word "key lime" this beauty popped up

Now how does this rant tie into my day, dear Blog? Well, today I went to the Japunan house to use their printer. While Paulatina and Lolo were occupied elsewhere, I sneakily sifted through the kitchen and ended up eating a handful of Special K Redberries...

And... last but not least, this visit of destiny ultimately was the inspiration to start this Blog. So everyone give a round of applause to Paulatina for giving the Whale (www.xanga.com/theWhale) some serious competition in the world of blogdom.





* NOTE: To keep everyone happy and anonymous, I have edited and changed all the name references.
** Yes, I too eventually gorged on BBQ, but I'm saving that story for my "I'm a little Dog" post.