Baby Blues

No this is not a post about my horribly loud ticking biological clock.  Well, not really.  It's more about my fears of that clock.

At youth group on Sunday we had movie night and watched Facing the Giants.  Now, this was no Academy Award winning movie.  The kids loved it but even they will admit that it had horrible acting.  The thing that me was the one plot line about the couple not being able to have a baby. 

I have no idea why that hit me so hard.  It seems the older I get the more I worry about if I'll be able to have kids.  Not just if I will, but can I?  I know that more and more people are getting married later and having kids later just fine.  And my parents just had to think about having kids and they got pregnant so fertile genes run in my family.  But what if it was just them?  What if I have problems getting pregnant when I ever meet Prince Charmingenough?  What if I can't ever have my own kids because I'm just too old? 

Never mind the train of though that I may not meet Prince Charmingenough until I'm 40 and all my eggs have shriveled up and there is no chance of getting pregnant.  That's a whole different can of worms to worry about but I'm pretty sure I could babble on and on about how hard dating is these days (and I probably will when I'm having a crappy single day) but thats not the issue today.

Am I the only person who worries about things like this?  Or at least the only single chick who does?  I would understand this being a concern if I was married and trying and having a hard time.  Why am I worried about stuff that really doesn't matter right now?  Especially when 99.9% of the time I'm worried about preventing pregnancy!

Avocado Love

Heaven help me when I get preganant and start having crazy lady cravings. As it is I already get someone in my head that I NEED to eat and that's it. Doesn't matter it I don't have what I need or don't know if it will turn out, I just NEED to cook it right then. That happened the other day. Someone at work was walking around with a grilled cheese in the kitchen and I started craving this avocado, bacon, grilled cheese type sandwhich I'd seen on Pinterest. It's all I could think about. So off I went to the grocery story.

I used the thin sliced chicken because it cooks quicker and because I really didn't want a normal thick chicken breast on a piece of bread. I cooked the chicken in a pan on the stove with a little garlic until it was cooked thru. As for the bacon I sliced it all in half and cooked it until about a min before it would really be done. If you turn off the heat the bacon will finish cooking in it's own grease. While those things were cooking on the stove I popped my bread in the toaster. If you use good bread instead of just plain ole Wonder I'd suggest sticking it in the broiler to toast up.

When the chicken and the bacon were done I started to layer. Since I used the thin chicken and small pieces I decided 2 pieces of chicken were good for me. I layered chicken, bacon, avocado, cheese. Wanted the cheese on top so it would all melt together nicely. To get it all melty I stuck it in the microwave for 30seconds. When it came out I almost didn't want to put it on the bread it looked so good.

Considering this was something I half found online and half mixed up myself I'd say it came out darn good! I cooked the entire package of chicken and bacon so I had leftover parts in the fridge to make it again. Or to use for whatever else sounded good this week. 

Case Of The Mistaken Undies

Recently I was chatting with my Sister (aka my best friend, aren't I lucky?) and we were sharing funny dating stories from out past.  One had me near tears so I couldn't help but to share. 

Mr. Canada and I were a new couple. Together maybe 2, 3 months tops. We moved FAST! Met, kissed, started dating, and I moved in all within a month. Technically I didn't live there but that's not the point. The point is we didn't go at a normal speed so we were already doing mixed loads of laundry when most couples are still unconvinced that there is anything to do outside the bedroom together.

The first time we mixed our wash I was folding things to put away while he geeked out on the computer for a bit. We were chatting about our day or making dinner plans or something. The details aren't important. All the sudden I held up a pair of very tiny lacy pink undies and with the most serious face I make asked him who they belonged to.

If he had turned any whiter he would have been see through! His jaw about hit the floor and he stammered out "I..I...I thought they were yours!"

I lost it! I couldn't stop laughing. I nearly had to run for the restroom I was laughing so hard. Of course they were mine! I just couldn't resist screwing with him a little bit. Who says I am uptight all the time?  A girl has to have a little fun right?

Nailed It

I don't know about you but recently I've become a bit of a nail polish junkie.  I never really cared before.  In fact, I really didn't do my nails because I'm hard on my hands and hate having chipped nails so it wasn't worth it.  But since I've become addicted to Pinterest I've seen all these adorable ideas I wanted to try or new colors that seemed like a good way to add a little something to my normally very reserved, classic wardrobe. 

This week I decided to pick up a new navy polish.  In the bottle it looked amazing.  A shiny dark blue with just a tiny bit of shimmer to it.  I was thrilled with how it came out.  Unfortunately two days after I did them also happened to be cleaning day and my perfect nails got all chipped up.  Since I was too lazy to actually re-do my nails I decided to get creative with a shades of blue french manicure. 

 

I used Revlon Midnight Affair as the base color and Blue Lagoon for the tips.  I am not big on pricy polish but this is good quality and won't bust the budget.  What do you think?

Ladies Don't Do That

I am one of those rare people. The type that believes that ladies do not sweat, burp, fart or make any bodily functions that would bring tears to your eyes. I was taught by my nana that ladies to not whistle, spit, or curse. I try very hard to maintain a ladylike demeanor. And heaven forbid I did let a bodily function happen, I'd deny it til I was blue in the face.

Now, that said, allow me to tell you a story.

It was a typical evening. Dinner picked up on the way home from work. One of the roommates in the living. The loving couple in the bedroom talking about their day. Nothing at all out of the ordinary. Mr. was laying on the bed, and in typical spoiled girl fashion, Miss. was sitting on his stomach. (Please note, they were both clothed, this is a G rated story after all) While talking and laughing about the daily stress, Mr. thought it would be funny to start tickling Miss. Amid shrieks of "PLEASE STOP!" and giggles that even the roommate could hear, it happened.

She couldn't stop it. She knew it was going to happen and there was nothing short of death that could put an end to it.

Miss. Farted!

Hoping to God, Buddha, Zeus, Allah and every other deity in the world that Mr. had missed it, Miss' eyes got wide and her face got red. The look on Mr.s' face said that he hadn't missed it. How could he when the vibrations were right on his stomach.

It took only seconds before Mr. went from shocked to crying with laughter. He was trying to run for the door to tell the roommate. He had proof now, that Miss., ladylike little Miss., was in fact human!

It was only because of the tears coming from Miss. (embarrassment, fear, sadness) that kept Mr. from telling the whole world. And while they, of course, were able to move past the little indiscretion, Mr. never let Miss. forget what happened when she would try and be her prissy self.

The end!

Now please note, this is just a fiction story. I mean, it couldn't possibly be about me.   After all, a lady like me never passes gas!

Sweet Vampire Killing Chicken AKA Garlic Brown Sugar Chicken

Happy Saturday!  Rachel here.  Like every other person these days I've become a bit of a Pinterest addict.  I have about 2 dozen new recipes to try out and having an unexpected night off of work meant I had no excuse not to channel my inner Julia Child and try something out.  No surprise I went with a chicken dish.  No matter what else may be in my freezer I will always have chicken on hand.  This was a piece of cake to make.  Even for a cooking challenged gal.

First things to do is get the ingredients.
Chicken (I used chicken tender cut but you could use normal chicken breast too)
Garlic (I love garlic in an abnormal way so I used 4 cloves, the original recipe called for one.)
Butter (Or not butter stuff if you're like me and haven't used real butter in a while)
Brown sugar (I grabbed dark for the picture but used light when I actually cooked.)

You'll notice I have a hard time when it comes to measuring things when cooking.  I tend to go more on instinct so I'll explain the best I can.

*Brown butter (about 2 spoons full) and garlic (minced up) in a large pan.

*When all the butter is melty add the chicken.  Cook on high until the chicken is cooked all the way thru.  It took about 10mins for mine but then it was already cut into strips so it was thinner than if you're doing a full sized chicken breast.

*Once the chicken is done sprinkle the brown sugar over each piece of chicken, lightly covering each piece.  You can be a little heavy handed with the brown sugar.  It's ok.  You know you have enough when it's all covered.

*Stir chicken in the butter/garlic and brown sugar until the sugar has melted.  Just don't burn it!

I made corn and mac&cheese to go with mine but I bet it would be good over rice too.  I was afraid it might be too sweet or the garlic would be an odd combo but somehow it works.  I can't wait to make it again.  Or dig into the leftovers.

Trojan War

So I figured I'd start off my blogging here with a bang.  Pun intended.  I warned you I had wonderful dating stories to share! 

I need to go back a bit. Back to the fall of 2007. I was blissfully in love with a wonderful Marine. We were going on 6 months of dating and were adjusting to the long distance thing that happened midway through the relationship.  He was in town for a meer 36 hours, half of which I was going to be working. We were determined to make the most of our short visit and clothes were flying off before the door was firmly closed and locked.

After the all the "Dear God" and "Oh baby's" were over we were laying there is a bit of a sweaty mess when Marine J got the most horror stricken look on his face. A million thoughts ran though my head. Did he see the extra stomach roll I couldn't hide? Was it not good for him? What could make this man, who was so excited to see me only a few shorts hours ago, have this look on his face.

Then he finally spoke...

"Uh oh."

Uh oh? UH OH!? These are not good words. In fact, after hot, sweaty, toe-curling sex, uh oh was the last thing I wanted to hear. Fear sank in as I realized that the only thing that could make this tough man say uh oh was a birth control malfunction. In my head, worst case scenario was a broken condom and that was enough to jack my heart rate through the roof.

Good news....I was wrong, the condom didn't break.

Bad news....the condom came off and was inside of me. INSIDE ME!

That's about when all rational thought flew out of my head and I could no longer remember my name, his name, or where I was if you had asked me. All I knew what there was something in me that definitely wasn't supposed to be.

Thank goodness for a calm, level headed boyfriend. Marine J was amazing. He calmed me down, helped correct the situation and was even wonderful enough to get the shower running for me.

To this day I'm still terrified of another "incident".  Though maybe I'd handle it with a little less panic.  Nah, who am I kidding.  I'd still freak out!