Monday, July 8, 2013

22 VERSUS 32*

*technically, I'm only 31.

For a few weeks now I've been going on full rock out tour to Taylor Swift's song 22.. Set the scene: my windows are down despite the foggy sf weather, my free Just Dance 4 sunglasses are on, and my organic medium roast coffee is JUST kicking in. The music so loud I assume most people think I have a carpool full of teenagers. Nope, just a sad old person trying to recapture my youth. It's bittersweet nostalgia to sing about a time in my life that I look back so incredibly fondly on and know - it's never going to be that way again. It's also shocking to realize there is a 22 year old without ANY perspective on that time in life because she's so deep in it.... but just gets it. It truly was magical and miserable at the same time. It got me thinking about 22 VERSUS 32 and which age wins? It's simple mathematics. See the breakdown below: 

TIE: "It's always a perfect night to dress up like Hipsters".
(Should the H in hipster be capitalized? Seems like a proper prop noun? Whoa I am showing my age card way too soon. Only a 32 year old would care about that, I guess). I remember debating dating a hipster at 22 and it made me gasp out loud upon realizing - HIPSTERS HAVE BEEN AROUND FOR 10 YEARS, GUYS. 10 YEARS. 22 year olds who are hipsters now were 12 when the term started getting traction. That means they were born to be hip. It didn't just happen. Skinny jeans and monocles are always funny to make fun of at any age!

22 WINS: "It feels like one of those nights we wont be sleeping". 

When I was 22 I would play kickball ON A MONDAY and go to the bar until 2am, then get up for work at 8 and be totally fine after a concoction of 1 coffee, 1 diet coke, 2 aleve and 6 text messages to my roommates asking if they could EVEN believe what happened last night? Nowadays, if I even utter the phrase I wont be sleeping it's because I had 2 drinks and got a rude awakening from the BOOZE ROOSTER and woke up at 5am. Just for fun. (If you are a parent the 22 certainly wins because you aren't sleeping because your kid is coocoo for breastcrack).

TIE: "It feels like the perfect night for breakfast at midnight".  Enjoyable at any age, really. Bacon tastes best from the hours of 11pm-11am both on your way to HANGover all the way to HUNGover. It also tastes great sober. Win win for both ages. Although, if I am eating past 10pm I'm probably cranky. Thats a bummer for 32.

32 WINS: "Tonight's the night when we forget about the heartbreak".
Heartbreak at any age can be upsetting but particularly at 22 love letdowns are DEVASTATING. At 22 none of your friends have enough experience to console you so it's basically a huge emotional wreck for everyone involved. At least at 32 you've lived and learned and had your heart broken many times before. It's old hat. Instead of chain smoking then going on a whiskey binge and having multiple one night stands - you look at what went wrong, pick up a self help book, go yoga crazy and finally sign up for - the paid account, this time. Not the cheap-o 22 kind.

32 WINS: "We're happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time". 
While I typically feel confused at all times about the future, I dont feel confused about the present. As humans we inherently are always questioning what's next? Am I enough? However, the paralyzing aspect of WHAT WILL I BE WHEN I GROW UP? when you're actually YOUNG.....I dont miss at all. It's for the birds. I enjoy at least knowing how to fake confidence at 32. The path to success isn't linear and my expectation of what success even means is relative now. As opposed to 22 when I thought success was literal. It could be defined by what other people had. I wouldn't wish the self esteem issues of a 22 year old on anyone, especially someone at 32.

So what's the verdict? You tell me. 

Friday, July 5, 2013


Yet another 4th of July in bay area. This time we narrowly avoided the typical foggy, malaise weather for the bright, sunny, crisp patriotic beams of vitamin D most of the country is accustomed to on this fine American holiday. I was inspired recently to create a deviled egg bar and give the people some creations both expected and unexpected. Particularly, I fell in love with the Roasted Carrot & Garlic Deviled Egg that seemed the most out of the box. The others were Wasabi Nori and Bloody Mary Egg.

I made this one up so there will be no reference on the interwebs associated.

I roasted 2 carrots (made 6 hard boiled eggs, 12 halved) with garlic infused olive oil, a dash of salt, a smidgen of pepper, a teaspoon of sugar and a little Paris seasoning from Penzeys. I roasted for 30m on 400 and then pureed the carrots while still hot. I mixed it up with a little mayo as per usual and topped with chives. Success! Serve cold because warm eggs are barftastic.

Other things in popular culture I am into right now:

Lady Boner Of The Month: PILF (Presidents I'd Like To....): Scandalized by Scandal

I am particularly fond of the romance genre despite it's effects on the female psyche and the unreal expectations it creates, call me an old fashioned feminist. But combine the unrequited love of a woman and her commander in chief with a touch of House Of Cards ? You had me at the pilot. With my new Ipad Mini I was able to breeze through 2 seasons so rapidly that I was left devastated when I realized I had to wait until the fall to get my fix of  the 3 DC turn ons: power lust and deceit. If you like early Grey's Anatomy and House Of Lies on Showtime this show is for you. The challenge is watching it with your legs closed.

I thought everything had been invented at this point. It turns out we have fun culinary creations ahead of us we cant even imagine.! I assume this tastes like if Willy Wonka was a pretentious Frenchman who got all his inspiration from buzzfeed.

The Slow Burn Long Con: Top Of The Lake To Ya!
If you have issues with: attention spans, understanding New Zealand accents or suffer from lineage confusion I'd take a pass on this one. However, if you are partial to missing children mysteries, Elizabeth Moss or Jane Campion - this will make for a great mini-series by the fire in the fall. It's slow and nuanced and creepy and twisted. It was born in the wrong era, though. It belongs on PBS in the 90's. Holly Hunter portrays a freakish shaman for broken woman that you simply cant get enough of and when you try and wrap your brain around her, poof she's gone. I wont say much more but I I definitely never saw the plot twist coming!