Oh come on! There's always room for Jello!

For memorial day, i wanted to make a cool dessert to ring in the summer.  a few months back,  I was at my cousins par-tay and came across classic Filipino gelatin. it instantly took me back to my childhood with the first bite.  it was like acid touching my tongue and me craving more. after 3 servings of nostalgia, my greedy a*s waddled over to my aunts social circle.  now these particular aunts were not the ones that shared recipes willingly.  those aunties had come and gone for the day. and being the foodie i am, i had no qualms interrupting their poker hour to find out how to make this delicious treat. although i knew i probably would be getting nowhere, i asked anyways. i began with, "auntie? what is the name of this dessert?"  their answers were predictable and one in the same. in thick accents that only first born generation filipinos like me could truly understand, they shrugged,  "i dunno. u go ask your auntie ober dare", as they motioned at my other aunt with their nose and eyebrows, "it's her ees-specialty", my other aunt added, "wait, its so eazy sarah jeen, you just add a littol beet ob jelly-tun & creem. dat's all" and my response, "well, what kind of gelatin?  and 'how much cream?" i received a  rebuttal of looks for the added questions. and with wrinkled foreheads, and in an even slower polite rate,  they continued to appease me, "...just... add... a..... littol... beet...... ob...... creem", long pause, "...and... a... littol.... beet.... ob....jelly-tun", longer pause, "stur" as all of them simultaneously made the universal sign for stirring a pot in circles as if all were on the same wavelength.  "and dare u go!" excited to get their recipe across, "u cum ober sum thyme and watch us cook.  we gonna show u, kay?!"  frustrated, i went home, furiously searching the internet and found a few prospects.  the actual Filipino jello recipe is "cathedrals window" or "stain glassed jello" made famous by goldilocks bakery of the P.I. and looks like the pic above.

I decided to go with a recipe not so complicated.  it looked shay-sheik and much easier.  i present  this foto of red layered milk jello.........promising, yes i know.. and i thought, why not add a bit of the recipe from the original ones i looked up?  wouldn't hurt to give it a whirl......

when i came down to it, i did exactly what my aunts told me. i literally took "a little bit of this and a little bit of that" out of my cupboard and adapted it to my style of filipino jello as of that very moment.  and partly because i couldn't be bothered with reading the "directions" in it's full capacity.  this is how it came out below. i minus'd a few ingredients and added a few others that the recipe didn't exactly call for. whoops! guess this is where intuitive cooking doesn't go.  i asked my family if they  wanted to try it.  my husband laughed with, "oh hell no!"  my sons response, "no!  i'm good" but my brave little daughter did a drive-by swiping her fingers in the goop licking and smacking them,  only to run away before i could offer her a bowl.

so yeah, not what i fully expected with the inversion. but i had a funny feeling something went wrong when i added a layer of coconut milk.  sorta looks like intestines of an animal.  think i'll read the "directions" on the Jello box next time.  this ones a do over, for schnizzle.  i am making it again just because i can and i am fiend out for the real deal holyfield. sayonara suckas! too be continued......

Posse up! Homies for life!

 Jeremy

Back when I was half smart and lived in the honors dorm, I met my next of kin away from home.  This is Jeremy showing off his red wing playoff look. He use to mock my "I will cut you cause I'm from Wayne-Westland" attitude, but I never cared simply because he was so damn like-able.  The instant we met, I coined him "my wittle Jeremy" cause I always felt the need to nurture him, as did the rest of our Goddard circle, like God gave me an instant little brother when I came to college.   Talk about one of the most malleable and interesting personalities I've known.  Jeremy is one of those people that can solve world problems with his brilliant ideas.  I am still waiting for him to come up with a solution to the U.S. deficit here.  He always introduced me by saying "This is Sarah. My Filipino! I got her from collecting enough bazooka gum wrappers.  So back off sucka!" lol, I use to love when he ran interference.  We'd do our own little Sarah and Jeremy thing.  I'd take him to my all inclusive Filipino parties forcing dry roasted pig down his throat and he'd take me to his old stomping grounds in Marine City and we'd listen  to Jimmy Hendrix all the while.  We'd go to the REC I.M center to work out and shoot hoops. He'd show up sporting his appropriate Jeremy workout attire which, if my memory serves me correctly, were pieces consisting of light blue shorts, lime green tank tops, red or blue striped socks hiked up to the knee, & 2 inch tennis wristbands.  Oh yes, and a white head band that said sweetness across the forehead.  Quite the intimidator if you didn't know him.  He'd boss up with the rest of the ball players on court, dribble circles around me rockin his snazzy outfit and I'd shake my head laughing.  Then we'd go downstairs to lift weights.  He'd poke fun of all the roided douches by going in the mirror, grunting and flexing.  And I'd be in the corner thinking seriously? o.m.f.g., I love this damn kid!  Good times!  Funny thing is, he'd be more cut then the rest of them without even trying.  We eventually lived in the hood across the tracks and shared a bunk bed, but fought over the couch. I won!  He since has joined the peace core, and worked with children in African countries like Namibia selflessly giving of himself and raising money for their education. He also traveled the rest of God's green acre as an E.S.L. instructor. Now-a-days, he teaches in Korea, where he claims that kimchee is the cure all condiment. The last time Jeremy graced me with his presence, he gave me a Namibian bracelet made by a local.  Now I don't wear jewelry, but I thought this bracelet was the cat's meow.  Besides my wedding ring, it is still the only piece of jewelry I wear today... Shout out to my old and wise friend Jeremy! Wurd!

I'M BOW-SAY!

I'm bossy              

             Now that I've come into my mid 30's, I've come to realize some harsh realities about myself. (Surprise, surprise)  My quirks include but are not limited to,  Neurotic-ism,  slight O.C.D., slightly more anxiousness, even more bossiness and might as well throw in a splash of  controlling while I'm out here spilling my guts.  Guess that comes with the territory.  Among other things, my anger issues have pleasantly surfaced over the years.  I don't like these qualities dirty.  I prefer them shaken, not stirred with a twist of optimism.  And there ya have it, an "I'm bow-say!"- straight up...... Cheers!

             I guess getting older has a way of changing people.  I've come to realize and partly accept the fact that I am bossy.  And hey, nobodies perfect!  Let me explain myself.  You see, before I became a Flight Attendant and before my, "I've been single for the past 2 years and finding myself" crisis, people came across a more subdued, submissive, malleable me.  I mean people use to even clown on me and say I was too accomodating and to quit pussy footin around.  But as of right this moment, I still feel I am all those  nice things.  In spite of my unyielding regime getting its creep on.

         I use to get thoroughly agitated when my over analyzing sisters (god bless'em cause I know they always mean well) would talk their nonsense like, "Just wait until you get older Sarah Jane, your issues will come out."  They'd matter of factly throw  words out there like "therapy", "dysfunctional" and "Prozac" while stirring cream into their coffee and discussing the next Coach or Louis they were thinking of getting.  Now being the oober free spirit I was back in my 20's, I'd shrug it off.  I mean they couldn't possibly have any idea what they were thinking about, let alone know what they were saying.  What Jibberish!  Years later, what they said is still hard wired into my system.  Could they have been onto something at their ripe age?  damn it all to H-E- double hockey sticks.  I loath when they are semi right.

           I'd like to think that it's not my issues that have come out, but rather the fact that the older I get, the more I don't  put up with peoples SHITE.  So I stick up for myself more.  I practice at it. And seeing how I've always been a yes girl, (I partly blame my Filipino heritage on that one)  it is considered rude to say no in my culture.  Err!  And  being a yes girl hasn't always worked out growing up here in the west. No pun intended thank you! So I've had a lot of practice converting to NO-ism and.....yes! yes, yes! how liberating it feels!  Almost sets you free.

            So when someone is trying to get over on me I say, "back up!"  and Dr. Jekyll snaps on.  Might I add, I've had a great deal of time perfecting this here  Dr. Jekyll & Ms. Hyde trick.  Works like a charm.  But the key is, you have to be good at switching it on & off. Especially in my line of work.  You have to be able to turn that switch off as easily as you turned it on.

            It comes quite a shock to those who come across my bossy side and I make no apology for that. Am I shameless?  eh, somewhat.  Do I care?  Of course.  I value the opinion of those I love.  However, I know full well I can't control how others perceive me.  I've come to accept my ill tempered weaknesses.  Do I work on them?  Everyday.  I give myself a million chances at life. I think working on qualities, weak and strong in order to make ourselves better is part of  living our best life as cliche' as that may sound.  I think that's what we all strive for. I'm still a nice, respectful person though!  I've met the masses from all walks of life so I can honestly say I genuinely feel  nicer and more respectful than many out there in today's world.  Well, Ok then, I'm wrapping it up for now .... So here's a toast ~ If my wrath comes out, so be it.  It's taken me a long time to accept the quirks of my ill natured tendencies and I'm not going to let anyone else sway me otherwise. Bottoms up! "Ching- Ching!"

86 Sugar (the forbidden fruit)

 I was having the all you can binge breakfast buffet with myself the other day in Vegas and as I was stuffing a crispy cream donut in a napkin to take back up to my room,  I was thinking to myself, "Self? What kind of sugary food Shall I hoss down on before the Lenten sacrifice rolls around this year? And with much thought,  I've decided to 86 sugar.  That's what I'm having for lent!

Reasons I've decided to X-nay sugar.

Reason # 1.  I swear by the Lenten sacrifice.  Matter of fact, it's the only time of year I become a super stereotype Catholic  More so than my devout husband.  After all, he was going to become a priest at one point in his life.  So when this time of year comes around, my bragging rights kick in.  But he is more into giving up meat on Fridays anyways.

Reason #2.  I originally decided to give up sugar as my new years resolution, but that failed miserably with my holiday gluttony.  As a result of my overindulgence, I gained 5 pounds.  So I figured I've lost that battle in order to win the war.  Besides, everyone deserves a second chance, right?

Reason #3  I have high hopes to to get rid of my muffin top so people would quit asking me if I was pregnant.  Yeah, that's right! pregnant!  You may not believe such comments like "Congratulations!", "Uh, are you pregnant?", or "When are you due?"  As they motion a plump circular ball around their torsos. Sorry bastards.  Side note: (Although I love multiplying and wish I were preggers mama again, I am not!  But I do have to admit I question the size of my ever growing poku.  For those of you who still don't believe me, just come with me on the J, O, B! It happens.  Especially after hossing over a plate of fried chicken wings, extra crispy, dripping in buffalo sauce, dipped in cool ranch dressing and a side of crunchy celery sticks.  hmm! hmmm!  Not forget the starbucks caramel macchiato chaser that shortly follows.  End results, usually making me feel like a gluttonous P.O.S!

Reason # 4 Now I'm not sure the scientific truth to this one, but someone once told me that you undergo such radical mood swings and withdrawals when you cut sugar from your diet not only from the addiction of sugar but also from the parasites that leach onto the sugars you digest making you that much more bloated and lethargic.  So when you deprive yourself of sugar, you not only detox yourself, but purge these parasites that naturally feed off this food source.  And since they no longer have food, they simply get get dropped off at the pool with the kids.  mmhmm,  I can kill 2 birds with one stone.

So there ya go. I will be testing my will power yet another year.  I have one more day to binge on all the sugary foods I can possibly get my hands on....... And then my friends...., Let the 40 day mood swing begin!

1.21 GIGA-WATTS, GIGA-WHUH?

               1.21 giga-watts!  gigga whuh? gig-ga who? That's how much energy my kids create daily. And that's them up way past their bed time.  From the moment they wake up, to the last minute they hit the hay, they are completely, utterly, hyper.  Just alive, moving and full of adventure!  They have this restless energy that can't be harnessed.  And if only  flux capacitors were real,  I could harness all these giga-watts and  restore my youthful energy my damn self and be able to keep up with them!
           But on the real,  when they are playing, I'm awed.  I lose myself in their every movement.  The way they shift, move, rustle through leaves, meander through jungle gyms.   It puts me in a trance.  And seeing them say or do something for the first time?  Well... that's nothing short of remarkable in my eyes. Same goes for dancing and singing.  My heart becomes so full when I watch them dance and listen to their sweet voices.  I wish I could capture all these memories and store them in a bottle. And when I am missing our days we spent together in this youthful stage of their lives, I could pour these memories onto my hands and the coolness would comfort me.   
             I'm already mourning these days back.  I don't even wanna entertain the idea of the "empty nest syndrome."  That's about 15 years too soon.  I can' help myself.  My kids are my life.  I can't wait until we create more memories together.   Parenting has given me a high that no drug could ever match.  I use to think before I had children that one could only imagine how it would be like.  Well, now I know. And as I hold them in my arms every night,  I could only imagine what it will be like to grow old with them.  What an experience it will be! I can't wait for more memories!

TAKE IT EASY GUEY!

          If I was given a dollar for every moody passenger I've encountered in the last 10 years, I could retire.  My words to these folks?....Relax!  Take it easy Guey!  Flying is not that complicated.  It's rather simple.  You see, the media plays the devil's advocate here.  No surprise.  Of course, they zone in on the worst case scenario and play like Armageddon is coming. Making,  the traveling public all but paranoid schizo's when they board the aircraft making my job that much more enjoyable.  Shame, because 98 to 99% of the flights I operate go out on time and run copasetically.
           Matter of fact, I just wish one of my flights did cancel from weather or have a mechanical so I could go home and get paid for it, but I'm never that lucky!  It's a rarity when sh*-  hits the fan from unforeseen circumstances e.g., weather and mechanicals.  So it's quite a simple choice from an operational standpoint.  Does the aircraft go in an unsafe condition and risk the peril of everyone on board or stay a while and make sure everyone takes off safe?  What a no brainer! I choose the latter. 
          Yet, I'm constantly hearing people get all pissy and shake their heads when there is even the slightest delay.  They get on their cell phones (like that's gonna solve anything) and begin to ramble on that the world much less can't go on without them because they lead such important lives.  All the while I'm thinking to myself, "Self?  I feel like stabbing myself repeatedly in the chest with a pitchfork if I have to listen to anymore." 
          Yet, I endure the brutal comments from passengers and am all but wiped out from all the vile, egocentric attitudes.  I just go on smiling like the Connie I am.  Which, I constantly give myself perks for.  I  go on my merry way and have adapted the attitude that was once taught to me by my Hispanic homies back in the day when I bar-tended and waited tables.  "Relax! Take it easy Guey!"  It works wonders!  Well...... that's all for now folks..ttyl