Hanging the Hat

I threatened before, but you knew I couldn't end things until I had something else lined up (like the story of my dating life). From here on out, you can read my musings, reflections and failures in marriage, home and life in general at:

www.hiprices.blogspot.com

Yeah, I know that's not how you spell 'high." That name was already taken, so I'm pretending this is all a play on words.

See you there.

Food, TV and Tough Questions

It's no secret that I spend roughly 90 percent of my waking hours thinking about food: buying it, making it, eating it, throwing it up so I can eat more.... okay, just kidding about that last one. But honestly, checking my mailbox on any given day would likely make you assume I'm living with a bored 1950's housewife complete with pearls and a baby blue vacuum cleaner: Martha Stewart Living, Whole Living, Everyday Food, Food Network Magazine, Cooking Light, Food & Wine... you name it, I get it.

Then it's no wonder that my TV is constantly tuned to the network that cares as much for food as I do. And after hours spent in front of Food Network, my worries concerning a few of its star chefs can no longer be kept at bay.

- Does Ina Garten have any real friends? Or a real husband? Because in each of her episodes, she tends to follow successful gay men all around town trying to have a quick lunch with them (that she's spent the entirety of the morning preparing).

- Does Giada de Laurentes think she sounds more genuine by lapsing into a super-affected Italian accent when pronouncing the names of pasta or cheese? She's basically "California California California PARM-EH-ZGH-EE-AHH-NO California California.." Also, does she throw up everything she eats? Doesn't she know you can't trust a skinny chef?

- Is Sandra Lee just tipsy or raging drunk during her broadcasts? I know she likes to throw in a semi-homemade cocktail with each and every episode (even if that episode is food for a kids party), but I've become suspicious that's she'll be sipping tea with Linsay Lohan at the Betty Ford in no time flat.

- Does Bobby Flay realize that he will never, ever win Throw Down? Why does he keep trying? If the point of the show, as I suspect it is, is to simply highlight the best restaurants and foods in certain geographical areas of the United States, then why don't we just focus on that, instead of this competitive farce of baking a better chocolate chip cookie or grilling a better burger? C'mon Bobby.

- Worst cooks in America was doomed from the start. Do we watch Food Network to see BAD chefs? We may as well just tape ourselves in the kitchen and call it good.

- Paula Deen, you can do no wrong in my eyes. However, I highly doubt your cardiologist would share my sentiment.

February is for Lovers (and Black History)

Unfortunately, my lover isn't black.

But fortunately, he's decided to stick around awhile--Forever, in fact. Or so the current agreement stipulates.

That's why we got pictures taken. Well, that and to ensure that all our family and friends have a glossy black and white of us stuck on their refrigerator.

We're classy like that.

Musings Upon the Close of Another Year

Unlike less-pleasant events that take place on a yearly basis (i.e. DMV visits and OBGYN appointments), I thought it fitting--and dare I say amusing--to seal up a year concluded with my thoughts, questions and reflections of our dear 2010.

Buying drugs in Mexico is not as easy as everyone makes it sound.

Smuggling avocados into the United States may produce dire consequences.

In 2010 I received both cosmetic surgery and a large, perfectly-cut diamond. The relationship betwixt these events will remain one of the great mysteries of our time.

I've realized that my greatest fear about marriage is that I'll no longer be allowed to eat cereal in bed at 6 in the morning.

A 7-mile run really will solve most, if not all, of life's problems.

You don't have to be registered to run in the Hungtington Beach Turkey Trot if you pin a paper to your shirt and look like you mean business.

Friendships ended when both of you are on Percocet are usually repairable.

I am most popular among the under-12 and over-50 crowd.

Agreeing to marry a 33 year-old Mormon boy will guarantee his parents love you. For life.

Making it to the last week of December does not let you out of the woods. You could, for instance, receive two traffic tickets and a failed clutch that week. Maybe.

Lots of people care whether or not you wear a wedding dress to your own wedding.

Ocean water less than 74 degrees may as well be the North Atlantic.

If you're getting married in March, don't quietly reflect, once Christmas is over, that you have nothing to look forward to now.

Sometimes it takes 2 years to officially change your residence to a new state.

I will forever wonder how I succeeded in life without a Kitchenaid.

FroYo addiction is a very real and personal problem in our society today.

Just because you quit blogging doesn't mean you have to quit blog-stalking.

Most things are forgivable; even taking a week off for a surf trip but nada for your honeymoon. Sometimes.

Here's to a new year - maybe being a Mrs. will give me something more exciting to blog about than my paltry life alone.

Trading Breadcrumbs for Bread?

So lately I've been thinking about boredom and how I have it. Not with life - I'm a busy girl, a full-time marketeer, a freelance writer, an (almost) daily runner, a wanna-be personal shopper (so I practice - personally) and an amateur baker. Not to mention there's always miles of San Diego beaches, a handsome boyfriend and - when all else fails - Costco to keep me entertained.

But lately - and don't take this the wrong way - I've been thinking about blogging and how it's sooo two-thousand-and-late. Yeah, yeah, it's like a journal - well, I've never been organized enough to keep one and cataloging my life at this point could only lead to unwanted liabilities down the road (don't read this, unborn children). So I'm moving on to something that interests me more:

Food.

Namely the fluffy, frosted, sprinkled, rolled, cut, iced, folded, piped, and filled kind.

The BAKED kind.

So I bought a web site (name to be divulged when it's up and at 'em), and will try my hand at the online baked goods business (you know, in my spare time). Luckily, I have at my disposal a web designer (hope you're reading this and get the hint), and a businessy-accountanty boyfriend who also doubles as a very willing critic of all things baked.

But for added motivation (and for my journal, wink-wink), I'm displaying a few of my bake-reations (that's not a bad name, huh?)