A Friendly Travel Reminder

Hanapepe Valley, watercolor by Kauai artist

And our much-anticipated vacation (and trip to Hawai'i) starts now. I will be back to my regular hum-drum life and the land of the north in one week, folks. I leave you with promises of pictures, stories, and (God willing) a sunnier outlook on the existence of mankind.

Å’kålè ma’luna! (That's "cheers"!)

Whales and Waterspouts

Photograph by Tricia McKellar

I've been thinking a lot about poetry lately.  Not writing it, no, no... that wouldn't be fun for anyone involved.  But rather reading it; the sound and the flow that rattles around in my head or through my lips.  Talking to Killian recently, I realized that the majority of the poems I love are because I've heard it read... and reading it brings out the same intonation and musicality created by the person who read it, like Posner reading "Drummer Hodge" in The History Boys.

Or remembering three-year-old Samuel Chelpka when I read this:

"Walking Across the Atlantic" by Billy Collins

I wait for the  crowd to clear the beach
before stepping onto the first wave.
Soon I am walking across the Atlantic
thinking about Spain,
checking for whales, waterspouts.

I feel the water holding up my shifting weight.
Tonight I will sleep on its rocky surface.

But for now I try to imagine what
this must look like to the fish below,
the bottoms of my feet disappearing, reappearing.

I'm not entirely sure I would have stopped and noticed this poem if I had just read it somewhere.  This is what makes me sad, more than anything.  Can I only be drawn to poems if I've heard it read in a movie?  I admit, my exposure to poetry has been minimal compared to other friends of mine who not only studied it consistently in school but also write it themselves, but I wish I had the ability to read a poem for the first time in such a way that made my hair stand on end... the ability in myself to recite a poem and make it unforgettable in my own mind.

I want to start doing more research and collecting poems that really make an impact on me... and not because of a voice that doesn't belong to me.  (Although, if you haven't watched little Samuel recite "Litany", you should take a few moments and enjoy that.  If you enjoy it, read about when he met Billy Collins.)

But in the meantime, I'd like to open this up to audience participation.  What is your favorite poem?  What poem(s) can't you get out of your mind?

Please share in the comments.  I need someplace to start.

Food Friday: Lunchbox Laboratory | Tear Jerker Burger

This is the hottest/spiciest/most painful thing I have ever put in my mouth. OK, I actually only dipped one of my fries in the demon sauce that oozed from this burger.

Jon was actually the one who ate it. Brave, brave man.

Lunchbox Laboratory, originally a popular little spot in Ballard that has recently relocated to a far cleaner and more neon spaceship-esque location in South Lake Union, has a monstrosity called 'The Tear Jerker'. 

Beef, 'Lunchbox' onions, pepperjack cheese, jalapeños, hanañero mayonnaise, and 'Satan' ketchup, which I'm guessing a mix of cayenne pepper and DEVIL'S BLOOD!

Normally I like to show you pictures of food in its original presentation, but this... you had to see the inside of this thing. Jon, who thrives on spicy food, thought his stomach was on fire once the burger hit it. But at the same time, he said that it was definitely the tastiest of all the extreme spicy foods he's eaten, which is quite a feat. If the taste isn't sacrificed in the name of heat, it's more impressive.

That being said: eat at your own risk.

Restaurant Review: Delancey

I asked Jon to take me to Delancey in Ballard for my birthday.  We went for our 10 month anniversary last year and absolutely loved it, so I thought it was time we went back for tasty, crispy, healthy, thin-crust, wood-fired pizza.

Romaine, cabbage and homemade Italian dressing

If you are an avid reader of Orangette like I am, then you probably know that Delancey is owned by Brandon Pettit, husband of the blog's writer, Molly Wizenberg.  I've been reading Molly's blog for over four years now, and have fallen in love with her writing style, grace and remarkable taste in food. 

[Aside: Seattle reminds me of Los Angeles, except instead of movie stars we have food bloggers.  I went to my vet with Peekay last November, and in walked Molly, Brandon and their Jack Russell terrier.  Crazy!  A similar thing happened when I was heading up to my apartment on Capitol Hill and walked right past Shauna Ahern of Gluten-Free Girl, who was with her husband and daughter.  I remember thinking, in both cases, How is it possible that I'm recognizing a blogger on the street?  How on earth is it possible that I'm actually star struck right now?!  This 'Era of the Blog' is pretty crazy.]

Anyway, it was around the time I moved to Seattle over two years ago when Molly announced that Brandon was opening a restaurant.  It was also around this time that I was unemployed, poor-beyond-reason, and living in a city without any friends... which meant that going to Delancey, once it finally opened, would have to wait.  Judge me all you want, but I simply don't enjoy eating out alone.  As far as I'm concerned, if I eat a great meal by myself it's as though it didn't happen at all; I need someone to share it with.

Delancey opened with great success, due in no small part to Molly's devoted readers.  In all honesty, I would never have started reading reviews of the restaurant if it weren't for the fact that their prices for a pie were a little on the steep side... I had no problem with the idea of paying $15, but if I were going to get any of my friends to go with me and pay for themselves, I was going to have to be pretty confident about how good it was going to be.

Reading reviews can be so frustrating.  If something is popular, and you are reading reviews about it, take what you read with a grain of salt.  When people go somewhere and have unreasonably high standards, they can be nothing but disappointed.  As though it's the restaurant's fault that everyone and their mother wants to go there, and therefore on a Friday night you can wait up to 2 hours for a seat.

If they were smart, they go at 5PM on a Wednesday when the restaurant opens like Jon and I have both times.  Not only were we seated immediately, but we were drinking our wine and eating our salad within 15 minutes.

Delancey at 5:45PM on a Wednesday evening

People should plan accordingly and stop complaining about the wait.  Nothing bothers me more than when people give themselves over to hype.  There's nothing wrong with taking recommendations and then being disappointed, but judging something completely based on its mass appeal or public reception... it doesn't make any sense.

Crimini mushroom pizza, with olive oil, pepperoni and onion

So here's the deal with Delancey.  Brandon makes absolutely spectacular thin-crust pizza.  It's crispy on the outside, soft on the inside.  The ingredients are fresh, local and contain delicious flavor.  No pizza is dripping with sauce, or smothered in cheese, or collapsing with toppings.  Like all of the best food, everything is balanced.

The idea behind Delancey, as Molly has said, is that they wanted to open a restaurant that was like an extension of their own kitchen.  And that's exactly what it feels like.  You aren't eating the pizza or salads or desserts of a master chef... You are eating the food of a friend who loves to cook, and knows what they're doing in the kitchen.  What could be better than that?

I have two favorite restaurants in Seattle: Delancey and Oddfellows.  Both have the same sort of "communal" feel, as though you are getting food on a Sunday morning in your best friend's house.  The food is simple, but also the best of ingredients.

The world's best chocolate chip cookie, with sea salt on top

If you ever find yourself in Seattle on a weekday, go to Delancey.  This is the perfect place for 4 friends to go and get some wine, 2 salads, 2 pizzas, and 4 chocolate chip cookies.  The salads are HUGE, and one pizza is more than enough for 2 people to share.  Jon and I made that mistake during our first visit - a salad, a pizza, and a dessert each!  We were exploding with food!

The staff there is also incredibly nice and attentive.  When they're busy, I'm sure it's harder to ensure every person's water is full, but they're sweet and treated us like friends.  Talk to your server (anywhere you go), because you'll know how good the food is by how the wait-staff talks about what's on the menu.  If they're excited about something, listen.  Life is short - take recommendations.

I wish more people would enjoy the simplicity of things.  Expensive does not have to equal "gourmet".  You may not think paying $4 for one heirloom tomato would be worth it, but unless you've tasted a Billy's tomato with an open mind, you probably couldn't know that the best quality food is worth almost any price.

Anyway.  That's enough of this review and my ranting.  I love Delancey, and I can't wait to go back many more times before leaving Seattle to taste all of their seasonal specialties.

Happy Friday, friends.  And happy eating.

The Big Two-Five

Look ma!  I baked!

I know I promised to limit the recipe posts, but time constraints are working against me here.  Today is my birthday, and in honor of the day, I made cookies.  Really, really good cookies.  Also, healthy cookies.  And despite my stomach's urgent pleas, I brought the cookies to work today to share with my co-workers instead of eating all of them by myself while wrapped in a comforter watching "Say Yes to the Dress".

The cookies were a total hit, and that is due in no small part to the miracle substitution of avocado in place of butter.  I learned about this from my dear friend, Killian, over at Tales 'n Teacups who made some delicious green-tinted cookies a while back that were soft and moist and wonderful.  "Avocado, as it were," she explained, "can be substituted for butter whenever need be, in any baked goods you desire." "Genius, my dear fellow!" I rejoiced with song and dance.

The exchange went something like that.

I knew immediately that I wanted to try avocado in this recipe, because when Jon and I made these cookies before they were, while tasty, really hard and crunchy.  Not easy to eat without crumbling or causing mouth-ouchies.  I figured avocado would be the perfect substitution, since I wanted to find a way to make these cookies as hearty and natural as possible.  And success!  They turned out phenomenal, and surprisingly filling.  A good addition to my simple, tasty, rainy day birthday.

Speaking of my birthday, I am 25-years-old today.  Weird.  I can rent a car now without exorbitant fees and through-the-roof insurance costs!  I'm halfway to 30!  My brain is fully developed!  I'm... an adult, and stuff.  Double weird.

The strange thing is that as I get older, birthdays become so much less of a "big deal".  Not that I don't enjoy celebrating with friends, or receiving gifts, or wishing others a happy birthday... More so, it's become a time to really take account of things that are important, things that matter most to me—where I am, who I'm with, what I'm doing.  I've entered the sophomore years of my life, and even though things aren't always perfect, I'm excited about the way my life is going... and I get to spend it with some pretty amazing people, starting with a wood-fired pizza and wine dinner at Delancey with Jon, the love of my life.

Plus, I get to eat amazing cookies today.  Maybe several of them. (See what I did there?  Now we're back to cookies.)

So here it is, the recipe.  Jon and I lovingly renamed these to reflect our alma mater's mascot, which is, for some reason, an Argentinian cowboy.

Enjoy!

"Gaucho" Cookies
adapted from Laura Bush's Cowboy Cookies via Lick the Bowl Good
Serving size: 1 cookie  |  Weight Watchers PointsPlus value: 4

Ingredients

• 1 cup whole wheat flour *
• 1 tsp. baking powder
• 1 tsp. baking soda
• 1 tsp. ground cinnamon
• 1 tsp. Kosher salt *
• 1/2 cup (1 medium) avocado, ripe *
• 1/2 granulated sugar
• 1/2 cup brown sugar (light or dark)
• 1 tsp. vanilla
• 1 egg
• 1 cup chopped pecans
• 1 cup sweetened coconut
• 1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
• 1 cup old-fashioned oats

Pre-heat oven to 350ºF.  Line cookie sheet with parchment paper.

Sift dry ingredients (flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon and salt) into a large bowl.  In another bowl, use a mixer to blend avocado until creamy, about 1 minute.  Slowly add sugars to avocado and blend until creamy, another 2 minutes.  Add the egg and vanilla; continue mixing until fully blended.

Gradually add dry ingredients to mixer.  Blend thoroughly (the dough will begin to thicken quickly).  Once blended, fold in coconut, oats, chopped pecans and chocolate chips until all of it is full incorporated.  Note: This is a very thick and sticky dough, so it's helpful to mix these chunkier ingredients bit by bit.

Using a medium-sized ice cream scoop (about 2 tbsp) scoop up dough into a ball and place on cookie sheet.  Note: Because these have no butter, they will bake more like macaroons.  If you wish you have more of a "cookie" shape, push down on the dough mounds to flatten.

Cook for 20 minutes.  Makes 2 dozen cookies (see Laura Bush's recipe for how to triple the size).

* Notes on changes:  In an effort to make these cookies heartier and with less additives, we opted for whole wheat flour (organic if you can find it).  I've already explained the avocado (thank goodness for moist cookies!), and we decided to add more salt to the recipe to really add a salty-sweet contrast.  My favorite!

Healthy Indulgences

I just made bacon-wrapped dates.  This is a recipe I have been drooling over for nearly a year now, and I finally decided I couldn't wait another day.  Diet be-damned!

There's really nothing to it, and perhaps I'm overreacting by patting myself on the back for such an easy accomplishment.  But to anyone who collects recipes to cook, or DIY projects to make, or books to read, once you finally do one of them, it feels awfully good.

And it sure makes me happy to put a big check! on one of my "To Do" lists.

As I mentioned in my previous post, Jon and I have begun dieting with Weight Watchers officially, and I can easily say that we couldn't be happier.  Being able to eat whatever you want is... magical.  OK, obviously you can't lose your mind all day, every day, but doing this program together makes making healthy choices easy and fun.  Going shopping is exciting, and finding low-point treats is like going on a treasure hunt!

This is likely our last summer in Seattle, and between now and the time Jon and I leave, I plan to cook and bake often, and try as many different kinds of things as I can.

If you're currently wondering What is up with your constant random post topics?  What kind of writer are you trying to be anyway?? Don't worry: this isn't going to turn into a food blog.  I am not nearly creative enough for that, nor am I allowed to eat enough crazy-good stuff to make it interesting for you.  (If you're hankering for a rock star food blog or two, visit Molly at Orangette or Joy at Joy the Baker.  Your taste-buds will love you.)  But I hope you don't mind if I share some favorite recipes with you every once in a while.  I promise, I won't post something here unless it's to die for.  That seems fair, right?

That being said, if you're in to salty-sweet snacks, give this one a try.  Yumm.

Bacon-Wrapped Dates
adapted from this recipe
Serving size: 6 pieces / Weight Watchers PointsPlus value: 4 (without stuffing)

• 1 package of pitted dates
• 1 package of reduced fat bacon
• 1/2 cup pecans or goat cheese (optional)

Pre-heat oven to 375º.  Line a baking sheet (must have raised edges) with aluminum foil.

If desired, stuff dates with pecans or a creamy cheese of your choice (I personally found the plain dates and bacon to be better not stuffed, but we also made them with pecans, which gave them a nice crunch).  Cut bacon slices into 1/3 pieces.  Wrap bacon around dates securely and place on baking sheet, "seam" down.

Bake for 20-25 minutes.  Let sit for approximately 10 minutes to allow bacon to fully crisp and dates to cool.  Serve and enjoy!

If you make some, comment here and let me know what you think!

"Diet" Is a Damn Dirty Word

I've officially gone diet-schizophrenic.  For some reason, I just can't seem to get my brain (or body) to get into any one regimen and feel comfortable or successful.  The result is me ping-ponging back and forth between various diet strategies, and while the pounds are sloooooowwwwly coming off, I can feel my internal register freaking out... not to mention my brain going a little nuts.

The last 10+ years of my life I've spent dieting.  Isn't that just disgusting?  This frustrates me, because I am so head-over-heels, out-of-my-mind in love with food.  It's the best thing that Man has ever contributed to the world: complex, rich, savory, sweet, inspired FOOD.  I would even argue that it's better than music... though I might get lots of people disagreeing with that one.  Let's just agree that they're on-par with one another, yeah?

Don't get me wrong, I've had extreme success with dieting.  I was a "big kid", and I know now that I will never be a waif-like, 125 lb. model thing.  I finished up my freshman year of college at 203 lbs.  At my lowest, as a senior in college (after doing Weight Watchers for two years and then Medifast for 6 months) I was 154 lbs.  Success!  Happiness!  Joy to the world, right?

Well then I moved in with my stupid, fun boyfriend and put on 20 lbs.  "Happy Weight", I'm told.  But living with someone who loves cooking and eating out as much as I do is so rough.  On top of that, we're also avid cocktail-hunters, and Seattle is the perfect place for this.  Do you have any idea how many calories a chocolate hazelnut espresso martini has?!?  I don't know either, but from 5-7PM  they cost only $5 at Dilettante, which is just 2 blocks away.

I can't win, people.

Can't we all be fat and happy?  Can't we all agree that being thin and "fit" isn't sexy anymore?  Can't we be like the ancient Greeks who appreciated a woman with some meat on her bones?  I just want to eat Indian food, or bread and cheese and wine, or homemade pastries and cartons-upon-cartons of fruit every day until I'm fat and old and dead... Why is that so wrong??

For the last three and a half weeks I've been doing Atkins.  I wanted something extreme so that I could get as much of this excess "happy weight" off as possible before going to Hawai'i at the end of this month.  (I've long-since accepted that I won't be bikini-ready... ever.)  I'm down almost 10 lbs, which is admirable; I should be happy with that.  While not having bread has been a struggle, I was happy to start every Saturday morning with an obscene amount of eggs, bacon and sour cream.  (Seriously, what kind of diet is this?!?)  But Atkins has plateaued me, so I'm switching back to Weight Watchers officially.

I love Weight Watchers.  If you need to lose weight, suck it up and pay for WW.  Seriously.  It gives you so much freedom to eat whatever you want without feeling guilty, and it's all about just not over-doing it.  When I was dog-sitting for a friend two weeks ago, she had a bunch of those mini-Costco brownies on her counter.  I looked at them longingly, knowing if I was just on WW, I could have had one.  Or two.  Or three!  Then I was sad. Atkins be-damned; WW is a win-win. (Heh, see what I did there?)

Anyway, enough of the plug.  Next week is my 25th birthday, and I've requested that Jon take me to one of my favorite restaurants in Seattle, Delancey.  It's a little above our price range to go regularly, but we've realized that we can share a starter salad, share a pizza, and share a dessert and be totally satisfied.  That's a good choice to not break the bank, especially if you like treating yourself to some wine, like we do.

I will keep you updated on my weight-loss progress, as well as the food I will now start enjoying.

/end rant.

The Pros and Woes of Small Space Living

April is one of my favorite months of the year.  Sure, both Jon's and my birthdays are smack-dab in the middle and it's (weather-wise) the first signs of spring, but over the last few years I've started to love it for an entirely different reason:

Apartment Therapy's Small Cool contest.

When I first moved up to Seattle and was taking a course in home staging, I spent countless hours scouring Apartment Therapy for small space ideas—and the majority of that time was spent looking at the entries for the annual Small Cool contest, where anyone can submit photos of their apartment/house (must be under 1000 sq. ft.) that show off their style, creativity and, most importantly, their unique approach to small space living.

 Small Cool 2010: Chris from Houston, TX

I have dreamed of entering this contest for years now.  Granted, I would never expect to win something like this—my budget and design sense are both at "work in progress" status.  The people that end up winning this contest are usually the people that live in VERY small spaces and who have access to more expensive pieces.  Plus, since I moved out of my 340 sq. ft apartment almost a year ago, I missed my opportunity to perfect that ol' space o' mine. (But I am happy, at least, that I got to gut the place of all unnecessary furniture and crap before I left so I could get a glimpse of its potential.  Not bad for my first official staging project. I just have to ignore the lack of any artwork on the walls... *sob*...)

This rant is less about wanting to enter and win the (totally awesome) Small Cool contest.  This is entirely about me dreaming of getting my 700 sq. ft. apartment beautiful enough to want to photograph and share with you.

With our current apartment, the only thing stopping me from making it "entry" material is my complete lack of motivation.  Not in decorating, but rather in the apartment itself.  Jon and I have done a wonderful job, in my opinion, of getting the apartment cozy, space-saving and art-filled.  We've upgraded necessary pieces, like our television/TV stand, mattress/bed, and coffee table.  I'm actually extremely proud of us!  But little things here and there drive me nuts, and as we're nearing the end of our lease (and most likely, time in Seattle), I have a hard time wanting to invest in fixing all of the annoyances.

Maybe it's worth it?  2 months, 5 months, 8 months more in this apartment—I would likely be a million times happier if I spent the extra money and took the extra time to put the mirror back up above the dresser, box and store all the crap we don't need sitting out, and frame the artwork I've been avoiding.  The space isn't very big; this shouldn't be a problem.  That's why small apartments are so great—you're allowed to be really choosy about what you keep and display or store.

I'm just really lazy, you guys.

But I want to get this one right.  Who knows where we'll be living next!  When April comes around, I look at the Small Cool entries and feel inspired, and the arrival of more warmth and sunlight makes the idea of a beautiful and clean apartment all the more appealing!  It's time to start tackling little things in my small space so that eventually I will feel capable of tackling large building projects and arrangements in a large space... you know, in my future 10-room mansion.

So this is my promise to you: I will get my ass up off my couch, I will clean and organize, and I will make everything presentable.  Then I will take pictures and share our little, dog-and-cat-infested apartment with the internets.

This blog isn't quite Apartment Therapy, but... it'll do for now.

Small Cool 2010: Beth from Sausalito, CA

My Old Friend, the Sun

"Sun Please Shine Again" by Jolby

I am absolutely sick-to-death of dark, wet, and cold weather.  I am pretty sure that I can count on one hand the sunny days Seattle's had in the last 5 months.  And if you're thinking Umm, HELLO!  It's Seattle—you knew it was going to be gray all the time when you chose to move there... What did you think it was gonna be like?!, this is your opportunity to just keep your thoughts to yourself.  I had no problem with the Pacific Northwest weather for the first two winters I was here... But now?  I am downright cranky, you guys, and my vitamin D pills just aren't cutting it anymore.

When I was home a month ago, my father picked me up at the airport and before heading home, we drove around town.  It was about 9 o'clock in the morning and the sun was shining so brightly, it honest-to-God shocked me.  I got out of the car in the middle of a parking lot in Livermore, held out my arms—I'm not kidding you—and just stood there, feeling the sun soak into my skin.  I was like a sun-junkie out of the movie Sunshine; totally and completely addicted to the feeling of warmth and light.

It's true that living in a place with actual seasons makes you appreciate the good weather so much more.  I admit, I never appreciated the sun when I went to school in paradise—more commonly known as UCSB—or when I was growing up in California.  I moved away from that because I really loved rain and cold weather.

But 45ºF in April is absolutely, flat-out unacceptable.

"Sunny rainy city" by Blanca Gomez

The sun is up there.  Warmth is lurking beyond this hovering gray blanket, and I am so ready for it.  I have said numerous times that summer is the reason that I stayed in Seattle as long as I have.  It really can't be beat, on many levels: it's perfectly warm, the city is bustling, everyone is happy, the parks are full of people and their dogs, everything is blooming and lush and green... I am totally in love with summer in Seattle.  It's (dare I say?) even nicer than Santa Barbara.

But after this last winter, it's officially not worth it anymore.  This winter was so bad, and for the first time, I can attribute ALL of the 'bad' to the weather.  I had never felt the effects of weather internally before, and it was a completely foreign type of depression; the way that my sadness and irritability was able to manifest itself on a physical level was pretty horrible.

I can't imagine choosing to deal with it on a regular basis...  I don't know how people in the Northwest deal with such profound heaviness for such a long period of time during the year.  Maybe it's why everyone here is a terrible driver, and why people are so damn passive aggressive—they know that they're stuck in a place with depressing weather and they want everyone else to be miserable too.

Luckily the effects of sunshine are contagious, so all I need do now is wait for it to arrive.  Forecast predicts temperatures may rise to a whopping 53ºF this weekend (I know, so hot), and the sun may actually show his face!  And in true Seattle-style, I will welcome him with the unpleasant sight of me in a skirt and halter top.  Me-ow.

To my friends in California and New York: I envy you.  I wish I was where you are.  I hope you are enjoying your stupid 72.5º weather.  I hope you are getting outside and soaking up the sun and relishing in his loveliness.  I hope you are thanking him for relieving you from a truly awful winter.

Oh, and please, tell him to come find me in Seattle.  He keeps standing me up.

"Looks Like Rain" by Eloise Renouf

One of Us Had to Be the First

Baby Henry, image credit: Cassie Rosenbrock

Two months ago, my best friend in the entire world had a baby.  I've known her since the 6th grade, and we've been best friends since we were 15.  Now, at almost 25, she's the first of any of my close friends to actually start a family.

Cassie married her high school sweetheart, Matt, when she was 20-years-old—too young to even [legally] drink at her own wedding!  We knew she'd settle down before any of us.  At 18, we used to discuss what we saw ourselves doing in the future, and even though Cassie talked about her dreams of acting and becoming a comedian, she knew that Matt would always be the most important aspect of her life; nothing else mattered if he wasn't part of it.

To my stupid, never-had-a-relationship-before brain, this sounded downright crazy-pants.

In high school (and for the first part of college) I remember being extremely ambitious.  Lazy, oh my gosh yes, but also a total dreamer with extremely lofty goals of fortune and success and notoriety as a writer or theatre director or critic... something really special.  Something that would take me to New York or Europe or (ha!) Seattle!  I thought about it, and thought about it, and thought about it, and thought about it... and thought about it, until I fell into a dark hole of thinking until I forgot what the point of it all was.  I don't mean to imply that I don't still think about these things, but when I was a teenager, it was hard to imagine wanting anything close to what my parents had: something traditional, something expected, something that focused entirely on family—not dreams.  Dreams were something you gave up in order to have a family and provide for them.  (This isn't something I was taught, mind you, it was simply how my feeble brain viewed things.)

Kim with Henry on March 5, 2011

And then my entire perspective started changing, due in large part to Cassie and Matt.  There was something about watching their relationship grow, being there to see them start their marriage, buying a house, and then start planning for (and subsequently making) a family—all while Matt goes to school for his Masters and Cassie does improv for ComedySportz San Jose—that made me think, Hey!  That doesn't seem too bad at all!

Before I go on, I have to say that I know what you're thinking, and no—I do not want marriage or babies at any point in the near future.  On the contrary; two dogs and a cat are tiring enough.  Cassie and Matt's effect on me is a little less obvious than that—gimme some credit, peeps.

Henry was born February 2nd, and it completely changed my perspective on things.  To be fair, little things have been changing me slowly over the past year, but when Henry arrived... I finally got it.

See, I've been out of college for almost three years now; I have friends graduating from Master's programs already!  The transition into "real life" has been difficult, emotional, and sometimes impossible.  Because of the challenges, I've spent two out of the last three years wishing I was somewhere (and, often, someone) I wasn't.

Maybe my recently-graduated friends can relate.  It's really frustrating to think about how carefree college was (granted, in college we thought the same thing about high school—or at least I did!), and how nice it would be to just... slow down again.  Do it all over again.  Try something different, and this time not waste the opportunity.

Making friends is hard outside of school. (This is even more so true in Seattle—the "chill" is real, people!)  Finding a job that you really love, and that fits with your ideals and expectations, seems like the most insurmountable task.  Finding love, for so many, is a constant struggle.  So many things can go terribly and horribly wrong—financially, emotionally, mentally—very, very quickly.

Simply put: growing up is flat-out-effin hard to do.

New mom Cassie

New dad Matt

This is where Cassie and Matt come in.  About a month ago I went home and met Henry (and saw my best friends as parents) for the first time.  Things were calm and normal and simple, with the addition of baby gurgles and smiles, lots of poopings and lots of feedings.  And even though I couldn't stop saying things like "He isn't real!" and "I can't believe you actually made this!" and "He was once in there!" *points to Cassie's belly*, the truth is... it wasn't weird.  Not at all.  On the contrary, it felt so totally and completely right.

I finally understand what Cassie meant when she was 18 and how—despite her own struggles and frustrations—things seemed so clear for her.  Looking at Jon's and my life with him, I feel confident in saying that he is what matters to me, and no other ambitions or dreams are worth anything if he isn't there to share them with me.  We have an extremely bright future ahead of us, with so many unknown obstacles and grand possibilities.

And I want to spend it near the people I love who are living their own futures now, and have no interest in reliving the past.  People who don't live in regret, and who are grateful for the people they love and choose to share their lives with.  People like Cassie and Matt.

Someday Henry will going off to college, and it excites me to think about where I'll be and what my life will look like when he does.

The future, all of a sudden, doesn't seem so scary anymore.