Thursday, January 31, 2013

First Night of College


It's hot; I'm sweaty. I check myself - yep, I put on deodorant. Why am I so nervous? Pull it together Scarlet. 

All right, shoes. I turn around to see what Laney and Mia are wearing; sandals - thank God. After going into town last night I don't think my feet can handle wedges or heels. I also don't think I could find them in our room if my Bachelor's Degree relied on it. Our dorm room held just the three of us, barely. The rest of the room was made up of our clothes, shoes, futon, wheat thins, and a mini fridge. 

"Scarlet, you want me to leave my straightener on for you?"

Oh Laney, my savior. Laney is the gorgeous girl who doesn't know she’s gorgeous. She is ultra prepared and yet laid back. All the boys love her and yet she is convinced they just want to be her friend - "Ew, I could never picture him like that". Lane is a tiny little thing, great curves, and long blonde hair - the whole make-a-man-drool package.

"Yeah, Lane leave it on 'cause I'll have Scar do mine after hers?" Cue the you-know-you-want-to smile from my Mia. Mia is the roommate I connected with on day one. Laney knows a lot of people from high school that ended up at our college but Mia and I were kind of starting from a clean slate. Mia reads, as do I. Mia is obsessed with cats, as am I. Mia can crack up for hours with just a bottle of wine and a good friend, as can I. I think you get the picture. She has long, shiny dark locks and is half Puerto Rican; her ass will tell you that the second you meet her. It's a great ass.

"Yes and yes! Although it won't help the temperature in here. Fuck it’s hot. Are we sure that's how high the fan goes?"

Mia checks the fan, "Unfortunately. I think it's time for a shot."

I learned quickly in high school that this was the best part of any night going out – the pregame. The pregame is an event within itself. It’s easily more fun than the party. Music you have control over, alcohol you have control over, picking the group of friends you feel like getting fucked up with equals a great time. The best nights are usually the ones where all you remember is the pregame. Sorry Moms, it’s true.

After about five shots and three outfit changes, we’re ready. We think.

The night air feels amazing. I take a deep breath once we’re outside in the courtyard and feel better. Although I’ve been complaining, it’s not as hot as it’s been the past week. I take in the view around us - It’s hard not to, our campus is gorgeous. I still catch myself appreciating the little things like the cobble stone walkways, endless rows of evergreen trees, and the mountain that sits just north of the dorms. Who knew Connecticut could be this pretty. Not a Jersey girl, that’s for sure.

“Scar you talk to Ryan today?” Mia inquires as all three of us hold each other while walking down a steep hill. Yes, definitely a sandals night.

            Ryan. Ryan Mallor, where to begin? Fourth grade is a good start. Ryan was my next-door neighbor when my family moved to a small town in Jersey. He quickly turned into my best friend. Soon thereafter, a best friend who I was in love with. I must note that this feeling was far from mutual. It took Ryan until I was a senior in high school (him a freshman in college) to realize his feelings for me. This doesn’t make me sound too great, does it? Hmmm. All right, moving on.

Ryan and I have been officially dating for nine months. We already talk about living together, which is nauseating because he’s currently in fucking Europe for an abroad program so he clearly isn’t concerned with being close to me. Not to mention that, even though we’ve been close for like ten years, we’ve only been dating for nine months. And I’m a freshman in college. I don’t think I need any more examples. So you can imagine how many times a day we email/chat/talk.

You’ll now understand that Mia’s question is dripping with sarcasm…

“Ha ha. Yes, Mia, we chatted for quite some time today. During chemistry class actually, definitely going to get that C+ up.”

I immediately get the death stare, “Scarlet! No, no, no.” Laney was a straight A student, shocking. 

            I can feel a blister coming on my right foot, typical party crasher. I slide the strap down so I can save what skin I have left before we reach the party. I get my phone from purse and check my email. A smile crawls across my face and my pace slows. Laney and Mia lead the way yapping about their lab partners they met today and how they’re convinced no cute guys exist in the Health Science Department. Probably true.

            My smile widens, an email from Ryan, the best kind.

“Hello my love,

We had a free day today. I went to a couple of different parks and just took pictures, took it all in. The people here are so much more relaxed. Makes me wonder it is about the United States that just makes everyone so god damn uptight. These are definitely my kind of people. I think you would love it here; I wish you came with me. I know, I know – I say that too much, but it’s true.
How are your classes? I know you told me which ones you were taking and that the first week went well but I’m sure you’ve settled in now. Any douche bag teachers? Those are usually the best ones. Roommates still good? As you know, my freshman year roommate was a nightmare and I didn’t figure it out in one night. But I’m sure they’re great girls.
I’m missing you. Odd to go from every night this summer being next to you to being on opposite sides of the fucking Atlantic. My choice though, right? Damn, I see you everywhere out here. There’s a bookstore just around the corner and you’d love it. The owner has a fluffy white cat – tiny fucker but cute.

Be safe tonight. I’ll try to be online tomorrow when I think you’ll be up.

Sweet dreams & stay happy

I love you,
Ryan”

“Earth to Scarlet!” Mia gives me a love pat on the head.

Oh shit, we’re here. I’ll reply to Ryan when I have to go to the bathroom or something. My phone quickly gets lost in my purse again.

I feel butterflies in my stomach but not sure where they came from, “Laney, who do we know here again?”

Mia pipes up and gets her air quotes ready, “Her ‘friend’ from high school.”

Laney and I laugh but it that doesn’t seem to shake the butterflies. I realize that they’re presence is probably due to the fact that this is my first real college party. Not only my first college party but my first college party with sophomores.

You could hear the music as soon as you turned down the hall. I hear boys’ voices, lots of boys and empty cans hitting the floor. This makes me think they’re playing games. Good, I like games. Games are good for meeting new people. Games I can do. The butterflies are fluttering a bit faster now; I silently tell them to cool their jets.

I take a deep breath, wipe my palms on my jeans, fix my hair and knock on the door.


...

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Chicken Noodle Soup


First Crock-Potting Experience - Chicken Noodle Soup

Life lesson #1: Don’t ever go to the food store on a Sunday. It’s Hell. Literally where the Devil holds all of the crazy, sexually frustrated moms & couples that take up the whole aisle fighting over whether they should get Light or Regular Balsamic Vinaigrette. They’re both going to suck; everyone knows Ranch is the shit.

So I accepted the fact that misery loves company, took my cart, and entered the flames.

After playing bumper cars with two bimbos in aisle 2, I grabbed the following:

2 Medium Carrots
2 Stalks of Celery
1 Medium Onion
2 Cloves of Garlic
2 14oz cans of Low Sodium Chicken Broth
1 10 ¾oz can of Fat Free Cream of Chicken Soup
1 16oz Bag of Egg Noodles (you’ll only use half if you want to buy a smaller bag)
1lb of Boneless 98% Fat Free Chicken
½ tspn black pepper
And $22 worth of fucking spices: ½ tspn of Thyme, Rosemary, & Sage



(My mother tells me it’s worth it – need to “build” your spice collection. God, I hope she’s right.)

At first I couldn’t find the garlic… went to the produce section, figuring it would be by the onions. Immediately got distracted by the Sale sign for Cupcake Red Velvet wines - fucking gold.  I snap out of it and realize I need to actually ask someone where the garlic is (yes, I’m feeling as pathetic as you’re thinking).

“Oh Miss, it’s near the front. With the popular goods.”

What the hell? I walk… I turn and quickly find the garlic. Not only do I find the garlic but I discover these “popular goods” -  Tomatoes, garlic, batteries, condoms, and Gatorade. Riiiiight…… only in America.

Anyway.

The original recipe is slightly different, I do know a few tips to making things healthier. This is shocking, I know. 
-       Always pick a low sodium broth or soup if you can
- American Choice brand Egg Noodles have 1.5 grams less fat per serving than most brands
-       Fat-free: less taste but you feel better about yourself
-       Most chicken noodle soup recipes will call for thighs or breast with the bone; if you get boneless breasts, way less calories



You chop the vegetables and mince the garlic. Slice up the chicken, thin one-inch slices. Take your spices and crush them.



Toss it all in the crock-pot.
Add cream of chicken soup.
Add Broth.
Turn crock-pot on high.
Mix, cover, sit on your tush for 3 1/2 hours.

It was very thick the first time I made it. I would add at least a cup of water after you see the consistency once heated.

Mix intermittently & at about the 3-hour mark, add the noodles. Let them cook for another 30-45 minutes. Taste and let it go another 1/2 or so if the veggies aren't done (they should be really soft when "done")

Salt to taste then stuff your face.



This will make about 8-10 servings, aka the only thing I’ll be eating all week. A serving is a generous cup standing tall at only 203 calories, 6 g total fat, 2g carbs, 0 g fiber, 34 g protein (nutrition facts from original recipe, my version is most likely less in calories & definitely less in fat).

Shout out to my wonderful Mom who gave me the slow cooker this fall – you all need to get one, it’s amazing, the damn thing cooks for you. My beautiful Grandmother gave me the cookbook where the original recipe came from – Better Homes and Gardens. You will be seeing A LOT of recipes from this gem.


 Mom.Grammy.Aunt Jean.Me

Remember bitches, it’s important to be healthy but you can be skinny when you’re dead.

Enjoy.

Saturday, January 5, 2013

The Pilot



Me

“Hey, I’m totally gonna blog on my Friday night and put up all these pics and links and just kill it on the social media scene”, UM RIGHT.

Reality

So, what website do I choose? What template do I choose? What fucking layout do I choose?! It’s extremely overwhelming. I haven’t even gotten to fonts yet. And now here I am sitting in Starbucks like I’m fucking Carrie Bradshaw or something. Well my website might look like shit right now but deal, it’s a work in progress; like the rest of my life.

                  So I told a couple of people that I was going to start a blog and the first thing they asked was, “about what?” Well, I have no fucking clue. To be honest, I just need an outlet to complain. I thought that Twitter might be a good place for that but then I lost 15 followers and thought I should probably change my direction. Okay, I’m being negative. Maybe it’s because the bitch next to me is complaining (screaming into her BlackBerry [its 2013, get a damn iPhone]) that her boyfriend didn’t call her to say “good night” last night. News flash – guys don’t call and guys don’t give a shit. Okay, next….

Me

                  “I’m going to blog about eating healthy, cooking, bargain shopping, relationships, and have a section that has an on-going story that I’ve been working on in my head since college - I’ll write a chapter a week.”

Reality

Who the fuck do I think I am? I haven't lost a pound in over 4 months; the last thing I cooked was chili... four weeks ago. I do know how to bargain shop though, this one is actually true. I'm decent with relationships, my boyfriend of five years might have a different opinion but I still got him hooked, right? (I pray for him every day) I have the best girlfriends in the world and they're all nuts, like me. I'll probably toss them, and their lives, in here and there.
                                   
                  I do not know the first thing about writing a story. I am probably a shit writer. All I know is that Nora Roberts is fucking gold. Her shit is my jam; love, drama, sex, and a guaranteed happy ending. No pun intended. Okay maybe a little.  Nicholas Sparks too – I read his shit and just want to cry and get laid. He really knows how the woman mind works.




So, if you’d like to join me in laughing at myself and life, as we should all learn to do, I’d be honored. Now go get drunk. Byyyeeeeeeee.