Not so Great Expectations

I can feel it. It’s coming. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Yep, it’s that time of year again. 

It’s my birthday. 

Well, I’ve still got a week or so, but it’ll be here soon. What I’ve been realizing recently is that I’ve reached that point where birthdays have sort of stopped being something to be excited about, and become something that’s a little more…bittersweet. Yes, I suppose there is some excitement in the fact that I can celebrate with my family and friends, that I’ve survived to live another year. But then there’s the whole getting older thing. I’m going to be 26. I’m getting closer to my late 20s. Which means I’m getting closer to 30. OHMYGAH. 

I’m very grateful for the 26 years that I’ve lived so far. I’ve had a very privileged life. I haven’t had to suffer through much (I mean, except for the back surgery thing last year, and my recent arrested-ness). But there are times where I feel like I don’t have much to show for those 26 years. There are times where I feel really down about the fact that I’ve had to move back home. I am so thankful that my parents have allowed for me to live in their home for free. As grateful as I am to them, I want to, and am trying to, get back on my feet. I’m in school again to earn a certificate so that I can become a video editor and hopefully make enough money to move out again, and possibly even to another city (Atlanta? Athens? NYC?). 

Another thing that I’ve started to realize is that no matter how many good things happen, I’m almost always waiting for things to get better. I’m not sure if that’s a personality flaw of mine, or if that’s just a part of life. I’d always thought that when you get to a certain age, things just kind of fall into place. As I’ve gotten older, I feel like I’m still waiting for those things to fall into place, and it just seems to get further and further out of my grasp. I wish those expectations had never been put into my brain. I wish I had no expectations and could just be happy with whatever happens in my life. 

Too late.

Again, I’ve lived a very privileged life. But I still feel insufficient. My generation was raised being told that we can do whatever we set our minds to. That if we finish high school, then finish college, we’ll then get a job worthy of our talents, that pays and has benefits. Then we’ll get married and have 2.5 children, a dog and a cat, and a giant house, and be happy. THAT’S WHAT WE ALL THINK HAPPENS WHEN WE “GROW UP”. 

It’s all a lie. 

Those were my expectations. Those are every Millennial’s expectations. That’s not necessarily what I want, but that’s what I expected to happen. All but about 10% of my generation has come to that sad realization. The realization that we were lied to. What we thought life was going to be like was just a fantasy that the Disney Channel sold to us.  

Damn you 90s television. 

So what do we do about it? I’m still trying to figure that part out. But I think the answer is just to live. To be the best person you can be. Do the best you can with your time and talents. Take chances and don’t always do what is expected of you. Go above and beyond what is expected of you. Take the bumpier road and shock the hell out of everyone when you turn out to be successful. When you have a bad day, eat some cookie dough and have a Netflix marathon all night, then get back to being awesome. 

Basically, f*ck life expectations. Just f*ck ‘em. 

I think that might be my new mantra. I’m going to get up every morning and say: EFF YOU EXPECTATIONS! And then commence the one woman dance party. 

I’m definitely going to do that on February 25th. 

Dance Dance

Dancing is my new thing. Not like actual choreographed dancing. But like, hearing a groovy song and bust a move kind of dancing. For example, I went outside with my family’s dogs this morning, and was listing to music on my headphones. One of my favorite songs came on so I just started dancing down the street, in my pajamas, with our dog Phil. Or sometimes I’ll just start dancing when I have music on in my room. It’s like exercise and stress relief. It’s nice. 

I realized that I started doing this after going to a Paramore/Metric/Hellogoodbye concert with my bff. The concert was back in November, the day before Thanksgiving, and it was awesome. Although Paramore was the headlining band, I was really there to see Hellogoodbye. The bff and I actually went to see the lead singer of Hellogoodbye, Forrest, perform an intimate, acoustic set at a record store in Atlanta, the afternoon before the “big” concert (which was awesome because there were like 15 people there, and we were standing right in front of him, and we got to meet him, and I told him a story, and he signed my record, and we got a picture with him, and he touched my shoulder, and it was awesome). At the actual evening concert, Hellogoodbye was the opener. It was so great. They mostly performed songs from their new album, which is very dancey. The first single from the new album, which is actually the album title, Everything Is Debatable, has a line in the chorus about dancing. That track, and the album overall, has a very disco-y, dancey feel to it. I like it.

Bff, Forrest, and me. I may have fangirled a little bit. 

At the concert, I was really surprised at the amount of dancing Forrest did during his own songs. I’ve seen plenty of videos of Hellogoodbye performing, and I never really saw him dancing like he did and this concert. Ever since seeing Forrest dance like that, I’ve been dancing like it didn’t matter who may or may not have been watching. I’m sure I look pretty ridiculous dancing, but I really don’t care. It makes me happy; nothing else matters. 

Dancey Forrest

Here is my challenge to you, considering that it’s a new year, and the perfect time to try new things: Dance. Just dance, like it doesn’t matter. Like nobody’s watching. Like you’re the best dancer who’s ever lived. Just do it. You’ll feel so much better once you do. Once you try it, and realize how liberating it is, make a point to have a dance sesh at least once a week, whether it’s by yourself, with a loved one, or in front of a crowd, just dance. You'll be amazed at how much it will make you feel better about yourself and your life. 

Full Arrest

Well, here we are. It’s the end of 2013. It’s also been about a year since I first started this blog, and what an interesting year it has been. Just like most years, this one has been filled with its share of ups and downs, goods and bads. I’m glad that I started this blog, because it has allowed me to look back over the year I’ve had, to see the highlights and the lowlights. 

This year was filled with great music. I had the opportunity to see several bands, not only at GOTR, but elsewhere as well. I made some good music too. With the creation of my band, LoveHate, my brother and I were able to write some music together. I had a pretty awesome year with my piano students too. There were a plethora of amazing albums that came out this year, several of which I have collected on vinyl.

The year was filled with love and loss, miracles and catastrophes. Though a lot of good things happened, a couple of really crappy things happened, right here at the end. I’ve been hosting an internal debate over whether I really want share with you, and THE ENTIRE INTERNET, what exactly the recent catastrophe was. It was a pretty serious event. But at this point, I’d rather give all the details and set the record straight, than have someone Google my name and make assumptions.

Obviously, physically, I am ok. Mentally and emotionally, I am a little bit scarred, but I have and will continue to survive it. It was December 13th. Friday the 13th. I should have known to stay home that day. But I had planned to get a new, pretty kickass, tattoo. I was so excited, I even dressed up for the occasion, wearing my favorite black dress and my hair all done up. My appointment was at 2pm. I left my house at about 1:15 to go to Subway for lunch, then headed over to the tattoo shop. I was almost there, and going a little fast, as per usual. I quickly noticed that the speed limit was 40mph, then saw that I was going 55mph, and then immediately noticed a cop car going the opposite way. As soon as we passed each other, the blue lights went on and I knew it was for me. It had been over a year and a half since the last time I was pulled over, but nevertheless, I still had that sinking feeling in my stomach when you get caught doing something you know you’re not supposed to be doing. 

The officer and I did the normal routine: license, insurance, etc… But when he came back from running my information he said, “Did you know that your license had been suspended for over a year?” My stomach sank even further, and my heart was racing even faster as I said, “Uh, no…?”

Indeed friends, my license had been suspended for over a year, since October 15th, 2012. It turned out that a speeding ticket from April of 2012, which I thought I’d paid, never actually got paid. Because I had moved several times since my initial move to Albany, the address on my license was incorrect and I never received any notices that may have been sent to me, regarding my suspension. Really, it all came down to miscommunication and me not taking care of business the way I should have. But because I was driving on a suspended license, I had to be “taken in”. Yep, I was arrested. I was arrested. I was arrested. Nope, no matter how many times I say it, type it, read it, hear it, it’s still weird to think that it actually happened. But it did. 

Luckily, pretty much everyone that I dealt with through this whole process was very nice and understanding of my situation. While trying to bust me out of jail, my dad said over the phone that there’s no handbook for what to do when your child gets arrested for the first time. I was so lucky to have him, and that he had so many connections with lawyers and other important and helpful people. 

While I was in the cop car, sitting in the back seat, my hands cuffed in front of me, I cried. And once while I was in the jail, I cried. But that was it. That was all the crying I wanted to do over this whole thing. The day after, I called my bff and told her everything. I told her, all I can do now is laugh about it. I know I should be acting more upset about it, and believe me, I am. But I have to laugh about it. There’s no sense in having a pity party every time I think about how I can’t drive right now, or how I’m going to spend every last penny I have, and then some, to pay for these fines. So I just have to laugh. 

After getting over the initial shock of what happened, I had to start cleaning up my mess. First I finally made a change of address request with the post office so that I wouldn't have this kind of problem with not receiving important notices anymore. Then I went over to the Smithville City Hall, where I was supposed to pay for the original speeding ticket that caused my license suspension, and paid the fine. In the next week or so, I found out that I can’t really do anything else until my court date on January 10th. That’s when I’ll have to pay for the new speeding ticket and the driving on a suspended license ticket. Then I’ll have to pay a fee to have my driver’s license reinstated. That means that I should have my license back sometime in mid to late January, with the correct address. In the meantime, I’m being driven around town by my family members, mostly my brother, and using my passport for identification.

So that was the catastrophe. It sucked. And still sucks. But, I and my family will get through it. Please learn from my sad tale. ALWAYS make sure that if you have to deal with the law, that you double and triple check that all the paper work has been taken care of. If you move, set up the forwarding address immediately and have the address changed on your license as soon as possible. I know sometimes that kind of stuff can be a pain in the ass, but trust me, it’ll be worth it in the long run. 

Here’s to a better start to a better year. May 2014 be filled with love, friendship, excitement, music, new experiences, new adventures, and as few arrests and speeding tickets as possible. 

Meat

I feel like I’ve let you down. 

My last post was almost 2 months ago. I made that post right before leaving for the Gentlemen of the Road music festival, you know, the “Something Big” that I wrote about in February. Well, I was planning on writing an epic post that would have been an attempt to do justice to the epicness of that weekend. I started writing a post, detailing everything that happened at GOTR, but as I kept writing, it kept getting dumber and dumber, and boring, and not epic. So I stopped. Needless to say, I just wasn’t able to put into words how amazing GOTR was. If you’ve spoken to me in person since then, you’ll know how much fun it was for me and my dad and brother. If you haven’t had the pleasure of speaking with me in the past two months (you poor, poor souls), I’ll leave you with this one sentiment about GOTR, then I’m moving on: Our idols (in this sense, the people who we look up to and are inspired by) are our idols for a reason. If you ever have an opportunity and ability/means to collaborate with your idol, do it. The band fun. had to drop out of GOTR due to illness, but they were replaced by Rock & Roll Hall of Fame legend, John Fogerty (you know, the dude from Creedence Clearwater Revival). Due to the last minute circumstances of the situation, Mumford and Sons (the dudes who were running the whole thing) acted as Fogerty’s backing band. It was magical for everyone in attendance. 

John Fogerty, ladies and gents. With Marcus Mumford on drums. 

Before I get into the meat of what I want to say, I think I’m due to fill you in on recent happenings. About 3 weeks after GOTR, I won a pair of tickets to see the band Those Darlins play a show in Atlanta. Those Darlins were at GOTR. I had just seen them. And their set at GOTR was so good. But when you go to a music festival, or any show really, and the band you’re watching is not the headlining band, they’re not going to do a whole set. So seeing TD at GOTR wasn’t the same as seeing them at their own show. I saw them once before, 3 years ago in Athens. They opened for Ok Go. That’s when I started to get into them. Their show in Atlanta that I won the tickets for, was a part of their third album’s release (I HIGHLY recommend you give their new album Blur The Line a listen. 'Twill change your life). Finally going to a show where Those Darlins were the headliners was pretty great. Not to mention the fact that I was standing right in front of the lead singer. God, it was so good. Like a spiritual experience. Afterward, I spoke to the lead singer, Jessi, and told her that I was at GOTR in St. Augustine, and asked her if she got to meet John Fogerty. She said, no, but that he was a big influence on her growing up, an idol of hers. It was so cute hearing her giddily talk about someone she admires musically (cute, mostly because she’s probably not even 5 feet tall and could probably fit in my pocket). 

Jessi Darlin and yours truly.  

Going along with the earlier sentiment that I made, if you have the opportunity to do something awesome, don’t think twice, just do it. Chances are that what ever it is, is going to be a hellava lot better than sitting on your ass at home. That is something I’ve been learning recently: if an opportunity is placed in front of you, take advantage of it. I had one day’s notice before the Those Darlins show. A couple weeks later, I had two days notice before spending the weekend with my BFF. Great decision. Ok, let’s be honest, spending time with my BFF is always a great decision. 

My best friend’s name is Sarah, but almost the entire time that I’ve known her, I’ve called her Jim. It was a nickname that she earned after starring in the play Treasure Island at the beginning of our first year in college. Even some of our college professors started calling her Jim after a while. It’s in her Facebook name, and that’s how I have her listed in my phone. She is Jim. 

Hailing from Augusta, Georgia, Jim now lives in Metro Atlanta and has just started as a first time 10th grade English teacher. I’m very proud of her because I know how hard she’s worked to get where she is now. She texted me two days before hand asking me to come spend the weekend with her and celebrate Halloween by going to a haunted house with another friend of hers. We did and it was a lot of fun. I mean, you’re pretty much guaranteed a good time when vodka and ghosts, monsters, chainsaws, screaming, and laughter is involved. The only thing missing was Hocus Pocus. It’s a tradition for us to watch the movie, Hocus Pocus every year, but we didn’t this year. In the end, it was an awesome decision to have that somewhat spur of the moment BFF time.

Jim. 

And now for THE MEAT. 

Last thanksgiving, almost a year ago, I was sitting on a dock by a river in Savannah. I made a decision that day. It was a decision that I had been struggling to make for about 2 years. A decision that, once I told my parents about, gave me “golden child” status  again (for the time being, at least). I made the decision to go back to school. I struggled with this decision so much because I really hate school. It still blows my mind that my college gave me a degree, and that I double majored, AND did it in four years. I also struggled with it because I didn’t know what I wanted to do, there were so many avenues I could go down. It was overwhelming to think about. But I made that decision because, even though I loved, and still love, being a piano teacher, I didn’t want that to be my career. 

Now that I’ve had a year to try to figure some things out, I’ve officially made the next step with that decision to go back to school. I just sent in my application for Darton State College. If you know anything about Darton, you might be thinking, “Whaaa?”. When I first made the decision to go back to school, it was that I would go to grad school and get my masters. Darton doesn’t have a graduate program, it’s just now starting some bachelor programs. I am going to Darton for a certificate program. Yep. Not exactly what I was thinking of a year ago. In the past few months, I’ve made several videos for The Levee, where I work. I’ve really enjoyed making these videos, even though they’ve been a bit on the amateur side, using my iPhone to shoot video and iMovie to edit. The program I’m planning on doing is called Video Techniques and Applications. I’ll learn how to use Photoshop, Final Cut Pro, and such, and be able to turn my amateur skills into professional skills. 

In the last year, I’ve been trying to figure out what my “next step” was going to be. I mean, really, you could go back to the beginning of this blog and see how that has been a consistent theme: what’s next? what am I supposed to do/be? where do I go from here? I’m finally starting to formulate an idea. It’s not quite what I thought it was going to be, but in this media heavy age, good video/film editors are in demand. 

So this is it. This is my next step. For now. I’m surprisingly excited to get back into school. But maybe it’s just because I’m looking forward to the school supplies (and I’m not just thinking about notebooks and pencils, more like the new Mac Pro that’s coming out in December, which I’m dying to get my hands on). 

I can feel some cool things coming on the horizon. 

I’m ready for this new ride.

Let’s go. 

25

25 is a good number. In my head, it’s an even number. Although technically it’s not an even number, I’ve always thought as 5 as even number. I mean, we count money by 5s: 5, 10, 15, 20, 25…

I am just over half way through the 25^th year of my life. I have lived just about a quarter of my life. That first quarter of my life is behind me, and I have trouble remembering a good bit of it. I guess that’s what happens when you have a concussion when you’re 13, then fall off the back of a truck when you’re 21.

Looking back at how my 25^th year started, it’s been an odd one, so far. It started off with having back surgery less than 2 weeks after my birthday (which actually falls on a 25^th). And thank god for that procedure. I’m so glad that I was able to have it done. I am not particularly happy that it had to happen. But I’m glad that the issue was taken care of, and I can now live a semi-normal life (come on, there’s nothing normal about my life).

This year has been filled with some interesting romantic and/or sexual encounters. It actually started about a year ago, after getting out of a 2ish-year relationship, and sort of started out as trying to fill a void. Literally. Then it turned into having these encounters for the experience, for the story. A couple of these encounters were genuine attempts at possibly starting a new relationship. The first one of these was a guy who was almost 5 years younger than me. And as time went on, that proved to be an issue. The next dude was only 3 years younger than me. This “relationship” (if you can even call it that) lasted a little bit longer. But his mental state proved to be an issue (dude was kinda bi-polar-ish). THEN I went on a date with a guy who was two years older than me. I thought, ok cool, this should work out, he’s older. We went out to dinner, drove around, just talking and listening to music, went back to his house and met his family and hung out some more. It was a really fun night and this dude and I really clicked. I texted with him a couple more times after that, then never heard from him again. It was then that I realized that it didn’t really matter how old a guy is, they’re all pretty bad at following through (either that, or I just suck as person. I hope that’s not the case). 

Two weeks after that date was when I started dating Jared (you can read about him here). For about a month and a half, I was in relationship heaven. Even though our relationship never made it to the point where we said “I love you” to each other, I was so in love. He was my soulmate. Until he decided that the 6 year age difference was an issue. God that hurt so bad. After it ended, I was cool, or at least tried to be. It wasn’t until a couple weeks after it ended that it really hit me. I’ve just recently gotten over it. You know, maybe somewhere down the road, we’ll come back to each other, but for now, it’s completely over. It makes me sad to think about, but I can’t sit here in my bed and wallow in self-pity about it forever. So I’ve finally been able to move on, and continue to be my single, cynical self. 

I am not religious and I am not very spiritual. But I am a firm believer one thing: everything happens for a reason. Totally. I’ve had all of these experiences, I’ve lived these 25 years. Everything that has happened in my life has happened for a reason and led me to where I am right now. For example, I recently interviewed for this really awesome job which would have had me making a minimum of 30k a year, I’d have insurance, and I’d easily be able to move back out of my parent’s house. However, I found out a few days ago that I did not get the job. Had I gotten that job, of course it would have been amazing, but I also wouldn’t have the badass haircut and new color that I have right now. I would have had to leave the Levee and all of my awesome new piano students that I’ve gotten in the last month. So I’m OK with not having gotten that job. I have awesome students, awesome hair, and I’m going to continue to be a poor musician, and love it. It all happened for a reason. 

So here I am, closer to 26 than 25, and I’m fairly happy. Of course there are things that I’m still waiting on to happen. Like love, being financially stable, living on my own again. But I know that that everything happens for a reason, and these things will come and happen when they’re supposed to. 

In the past couple of years, I’ve been learning that my life is not going to turn out the same way my parents’ lives have. My parents met when they were 19, were married by the time they were 24, and had a child (me!) three years later. I thought I had to go by their timeline. I thought I was failure when I was nearing 24 and the serious relationship that I had been in (and thought was going to lead to marriage) was falling apart. But I’ve been realizing that just because that’s how my parents’ lives turned out, doesn’t mean mine has to be a carbon copy. I’m also probably not going to have a “normal” 9 to 5 job, probably ever (unless I sell out and become a “real” teacher at a “real” school). My degree is in music and theatre; music and theatre kids are not normal. And I’m perfectly fine with that. It’s just taken some time to realize that I’m fine with it and that I’m probably not getting married so soon. IT WILL BE OK. And I’m ok with that.

I am 25. I have a job, a car, and a place to live. I am happy. Nothing’s perfect, but that’s to be expected. I will keep moving forward, continuing to better myself, better my quality of life, and have fun doing it. I will color and cut my hair the way I want it, I will get tattoos and piercings that I want, and I will surround myself by the people that I want. Every choice I make is made for a reason, whether I realize it or not. And that’s the way it should be. 

In the meantime, I’m headed to St. Augustine to have one of the best weekends of my life. I’ll tell the Gentlemen you said hello. 

Melissa Meals

At the end of May, my cousin Brianna, whom I’ve referred to in a previous post, graduated from high school. Bri is my youngest first cousin from my mom’s side of the family, and she’s pretty awesome. I know that I’m pretty awesome, but she takes my awesomeness to the next level. She graduated with honors, she had a couple sets of cords that she wore with her cap and gown, she’s just all around badass. The weekend of her graduation, the WHOLE family was coming into town (Warner Robins, GA) to see her graduate and go to her graduation party held at her parent’s house.

Just before the graduation weekend, I was starting to get really into cooking. I’ve always enjoyed cooking, but now that I’ve moved in with my parents and have an awesome, pretty much always fully stocked kitchen, I’ve been doing a lot more cooking. Armed with this knowledge, my grandmother asked me to help her prepare some of the food that was going to be served at the graduation party. So the afternoon that I arrived at my grandmother’s house, the day before the graduation, my grandmother immediately put me to work making huge vats of chicken salad and pasta salad. There was so much slicing and chopping going on that it’s a miracle that I still have all of my fingers. 

My aunt, Brianna’s mom, had also caught wind of my newly discovered cooking skillz and asked me to help make a caprese salad. For any of you who follow me on Instagram, you’ll know that I have an obsession with caprese salad. If you don’t know, caprese salad consists of fresh mozzarella cheese, fresh basil, tomatoes, and olive oil and balsamic vinegar. It’s pretty much one of the greatest things you’ll ever put in your mouth, especially if you use a balsamic vinegar reduction. Balsamic vinegar may not sound very appealing, mainly because it has the word “vinegar” attached to it, but once it is reduced, it’s like a tart, caramel-esque, gift from the gods. Whenever I make a caprese salad for myself, I like to cut up a fist sized ball of mozzarella into little bite sized chunks and put it in a bowl with fresh basil and cherry tomatoes and a little bit of olive oil. Then I reduce some balsamic vinegar and drizzle it over the salad. It’s soooo gooood! What is a reduction you ask? It’s exactly what it sounds like. It’s when you heat a liquid to the point where the water evaporates and you’re left with a thickened liquid. In the case of a balsamic reduction, you’re basically making a caramel sauce. When I make a balsamic reduction, I like to let it reduce for a while so it gets thick and syrupy. It may sound a little weird, but balsamic reduction is life changing when you drizzle it over fresh berries. I love to pour it over either strawberries or blackberries. 

Needless to say, I was put in charge of making the caprese salad and the balsamic reduction to go with it. At like 10 o’clock the night before the graduation, I was at my aunt’s house cutting up two large logs of mozzarella and two Sam’s sized plastic crates of cherry tomatoes, and delicately layering the mozzarella and tomatoes with basil leaves in a giant trifle bowl. This was like heaven for a caprese addict like me. When I was done, it looked like Christmas in a bowl, with the bright red and green from the tomatoes and basil. 

The next day, after the graduation, was the party. All the food was prepared and being set up on the dining room table, and the only thing left to make was the balsamic reduction for the caprese salad. And since I had just recently become an expert in reductions, of course it was my job to make the redution. I had to reduce an entire bottle of balsamic vinegar. Having not reduced a whole bottle before, I wasn’t sure how long it would take. It was like 20 or 25 minutes. And apparently, while the vinegar is reducing, it makes the whole house smell like vinegar. So all of my cousin’s friends and our family were dying from vinegar fumes. BUT IT WAS TOTALLY WORTH IT! Sometimes when making a reduction, it can be a hit-or-miss kind of thing, either you don’t reduce it long enough and it’s still too watery, or you reduce it too much and you end up with a thick molasses-like consistency. But luckily, I removed it from the heat at just the right time and it was the perfect consistency, nice and syrupy, like a black, tart caramel. 

As I put the final touch of the bowl of balsamic on the food table, I looked across at the spread and realized that I’d made half of the food on the table. It was a very rewarding experience to hear all the party goers ooh-ing and ahh-ing over how good all the food was. My aunts and grandmother kept telling me that I should go into catering or go to culinary school. Whaaa? The thought of me becoming a caterer or chef or anything to do with the food world had never crossed my mind. If you’ve been keeping up with my blog posts, you’ll know that in the past 6 months or so I’ve been dealing with such existential thoughts as, “who am I?”, “what am I doing with my life?”, “what am I going to do with my life?”, and I’ve made lists of all of the things I’ve thought of doing or being. “Chef” was not one of them. But since it was being suggested to me, I thought, why not add it to the list? So I did a little research and found some culinary programs that seemed interesting. My favorite was one where you would study in NYC for 10 weeks, then you would go to Italy and study for 9 weeks, then work in a kitchen in Italy for another 9 weeks. 

For now, the thought of culinary school is going to remain a thought. But since cooking has still become something I enjoy doing, I decided to start cooking for my family (I gotta earn my keep somehow). I cook two meals a week, Sunday lunch and Tuesday dinner, and I call them Melissa Meals. Sometimes I just prepare your run of the mill type meals, but a lot of times, I’ll get a little experimental and try new things. I’ve been trying out a lot of no/low-carb recipes, mainly because my mom is on a protein-heavy, no carb diet right now. Two of the no/low-carb recipes that have been amazing are no carb pizza, and no carb chile rellenos (which is my own recipe, btw. Well with some help on how to prepare the peppers from a very nice Spanish speaking lady on YouTube). The pizza is made with a cream cheese and egg “crust”, and the chile rellenos are not fried, but baked in queso. 

Another culinary creation that I have stumbled upon, which is in no way whatsoever low-carb, is Nutella milkshakes. OHMYGODNUTELLAMILKSHAKES. When I posted a picture of my first Nutella milkshake on Instagram, the caption was “Ok, I just found something that's better than balsamic reduction: Nutella milkshake. Good gawd.” It’s super easy to make, and obvi, super delicious. It’s just two cups of vanilla ice cream, half a cup of milk, and 4 tablespoons of Nutella. Then of course you mix it up in a blender, pour it in a glass, and then discover nirvana. It really is THAT good. 

Since I have no intentions to turn this blog into a food blog, I wasn’t planning on posting any of my recipes, just mouthwatering pictures of the meals (cruel, I know), but if you’re really dying to know my culinary secrets, you can just send me a message or email (my email address is on the left side bar under my picture) and I will be happy to send them to you!

My first caprese salad using the balsamic vinegar reduction.

The giant caprese salad.

The graduation party food table, featuring my three salads and balsamic reduction.

My first Melissa Meal: chicken fettuccine with a homemade alfredo sauce. 

No-carb pizza! Soooo goood!

No-carb chile rellenos!

Fully loaded with sugar and carbs, Nutella milkshake! 

Love Story

Well, I wasn't expecting this to happen. I am the happiest I've been in a long time. And it's amazing because all of this happiness was caused by one person who was able to make my life take a 180° turn. Yes folks, Melissa is in a relationship. It’s Facebook official and everything! This whole thing happened so quickly that I’m still trying to catch my breath.

Jared and I work together at the music school, I’m the piano instructor and he’s the voice instructor. I’ve been there almost three years, but he just started teaching in January. The first time I saw him was at a Christmas choir concert for the local college. My mom and several friends were in the choir, so I went. Jared was in the choir too and also sang a solo. I would like to preface the next part of this story by saying that Jared is a great musician, he has a wonderful, albeit uncommon, gift. Jared has an impressive vocal range. Like Freddy Mercury/Mariah Carey impressive. For those of you who know music, he can hit a high A sharp, like the one above the staff. For those of you who don’t know music, that’s really high. Especially for a dude. Well, when he did that solo at the concert, he sang that high. I was so taken aback by the sound that was coming from him, that I couldn’t help but to laugh. I am an awful person. But in my defense, it was nervous laughter more than anything. When I told Jared about my reaction to hearing him sing for the first time, he said he saw me laughing. But I wasn’t the first person to do so and I’m sure I won’t be the last.

Once he and I officially met and started working together, we became pretty good friends and realized that we had so much in common, even going so far as to call each other twin. We’re like the same person, we even kinda look alike. We really got to know each other while working with a student who is taking both voice lessons from Jared and piano lessons from me. While helping this student prepare for a performance, we taught a couple of joint lessons. We found that we work really well together.

We continued getting to know one another better while working on a musical at the local community theatre. Of course he was in the cast as one of the lead characters, and I was asked to run the sound board. This was a really fun show to be a part of because I had so many friends involved in it. Before the rehearsals and shows would start, Jared and I would always hang out. The show ran two weekends and on the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday that we had off, we hung out. That Monday, we both had lessons, then went out to dinner together, went to the mall, and saw a movie. At the time, I didn’t think of it as a date, but that was the day that I realized that I liked him and wanted to be more than just friends. The next day, we had lessons again and I was making tacos for dinner, so I invited him over for dinner with my family. My mom had already told me that she thought Jared and I should date, that we would make a cute couple. Even though I liked that idea, I didn’t think Jared liked me that way. I was afraid that if I told him how I really felt, that it wouldn’t be mutual and then it would make our friendship über awkward, so I just kept it to myself. This whole ordeal was like a scene out of an emo Disney Channel original movie. After dinner, I introduced Jared to HBO’s Girls. He could only handle so much at once, so we only watched the first three episodes. Some how, Nutella milkshakes came up, so we made some (WHICH ARE LIFE CHANGING, BTW!) I took him home later that night and I remember thinking, “yeah, I definitely have a crush”. 

The next day, Wednesday, I went to work for a lesson, which ended up being cancelled, so I called Jared to see if he wanted to hang out, since he didn’t have any lessons. So I picked him up and we went back to my house to hang out. We did some karaoke, played the piano and just had a good time being ridiculous. Somehow we got on the subject of dating. I told him what my mom had said and that I wouldn’t mind dating, but that I was ok with just being friends too. I remember saying, “the ball is in your court”, and he said, “I’ll keep that in mind”. The next thing I remember, we were chasing each other and ended up in a dark hall. I got kind of close to him, then he leaned in and kissed me. As corny as it sounds, it was such a magical moment. I think from that moment on, I had a permanent smile on my face for about a week. The silliest thing was that Jared was being just as emo-Disney-Channel-movie as I was. He didn’t think I liked him back either!

This relationship has started out so unlike any other I’ve ever had. For starters, I did not meet him online, and that has been HUGE for me. I got on a dating website for the first time in January of 2009 via my BFF’s recommendation (she’s been with her current BF, whom she met online, for four years and they’re most likely getting engaged in the next year or so! :D). I’ve met several guys on that website and even had a serious, although destructive, relationship come from it. Since that relationship ended, up until this one started, I met 11 guys from online in person, 2 of whom were flings that lasted a couple of weeks, and a third that I had just gone on a date with two weeks before dating Jared, but who I thought had true potential. However, the point of telling you all that is that I was looking in all the wrong places for someone. Here was this guy who is my better half, my twin, my soulmate, and I was running around, giving it up to anyone who told me I was “hot”, or “sexy”, or had “nice tits”. I was oblivious to what was right in front of me. 

I realized that I liked Jared no more than a week before we started dating. He knew he liked me about a month before. A MONTH! He said he was surprised I didn’t notice him “gawking” (his word) at me when we were teaching our joint lessons. So oblivious was I. That’s been different for me too, the fact that he liked me first. It has almost always been the other way around, as far as I know. And the fact that he actually likes me for me, and not just for my body parts, is a big deal. Of course he does like my body parts too, I mean come on, he’s a guy, but that’s not what is on the forefront of his mind. It’s refreshing. 

I think the most important difference in this relationship from all the others is that we have not had sex yet. Of course we’ve made out, but it hasn’t gone any further than that. This has been a conscious decision that we’ve made together, although I was not too happy about it at first. Having only lost my virginity at age 22, three years ago, I’ve been kind of making up for lost time I suppose. That’s what the 11 guys in 8 months was about. But I’m pretty sure sex is what messed up any chance that I had with any of those guys. When Jared told me that he didn’t want to have sex for a while, and possibly not until (if) we get married, I wish he could have taken a picture of my face, because I’m sure it was quite comical. But after doing some thinking about it for a good bit, and thinking about how sex has ruined my past relationships, I realized that celibacy was probably the best decision. Being with Jared for however long I’m meant to be with him is much more important to me now than just getting my rocks off. And knowing that one day we will get to be intimate with each other makes it totally worth it. 

I am so indescribably happy. It’s amazing. And who would have ever thought that as a 25 year old young woman, I would fall for a 19 year old young man? All I can say is that it was meant to be. 

PSA: stay tuned for more posts on what I’ve been doing this summer so far, such as: Melissa Meals, Rock Camp, the Great Computer Crash of 2013, and more! But for now, enjoy these super lovey-dovey/sickeningly sweet pictures of Jared and me! 

The top picture was how we told my mom that we were dating. The bottom picture was what we sent to one of our students because she was freaking out over the news of us being "Facebook Official".

At work

We clean up rull niiice. 

There are no words. 

Rock 'n' Roll.