Little Big City Thrills.

All I did Saturday night was wait for my cell to buzz, or my email to pop up with a message saying that I was needed at work. Let us just say I managed to get a lot of cross stitching done that night. In the morning, at the breakfast the hotel provides daily, I met one of the project managers and he mentioned that they might need me this morning or later today. I just needed to check my email and see if someone had reached out to me that way. So I took a four hour nap (waking up at the two hour mark to check my email) and came to the conclusion that I could probably find a better way to spend my time than sitting around waiting for the phone to ring.

Warning: Lots of pictures in this post. Lots lots lots.

Night Two.

There are two less minutes of sunlight here. I thought that I missed the sunlight because I switched my days to nights, but it turns out that the daylight is two minutes shorter each day. In the wintertime every minute of sunlight is precious, and perhaps we do notice when it's not there.

I was every bit sound asleep today when a sudden shrill note began ringing in my ears. I stumbled around trying to find that cursed alarm clock that I swore I had turned off first thing upon arriving two days ago. I pressed all of the buttons two or three times, rotated the volume dial on the side thinking maybe that would silence it, even rotated the tuner back and forth. In an instant the noise stopped. Irritated, I rolled back over on my side, away from the malfunctioning electronic device. I was almost back asleep when it came again, that shriek of an alarm which I couldn't block out even with my hands across my ears. my next thought was that the thermostat was the culprit. Don't ask me why I had it in my mind the thermostat was causing the air conditioning to create the awful noise - I needed to believe that was the answer so that I could fix it.

As I moved towards the tiny box on the wall I realized that the noise wasn't coming from the thermostat, it was much louder outside my room. Only then did I reach the conclusion that anyone who had been awake and not in dreamworld when this happened would have come to. The fire alarm. That profanity provoking fire alarm.  I could not believe the hotel would have a fire drill in the middle of the afternoon when most of their tenants would be out on business. The insanity of it. I entertained the idea of staying inside my room for two seconds before I figured I would be deaf if I stayed in this echo chamber for much longer, and if it was a real fire then I would very much like to survive it. I got my valuables together and was at the door when the ringing stopped. I stood in limbo for a minute, my hand reaching for the door handle in case it started up again, but nothing happened. Relieved I wouldn't have to leave the room, I set everything in its place and crawled back to bed.

I ended up restlessly attempting to sleep, but no position seemed to work. I resigned myself to getting ready for the day now and taking a nap at a later time. When I went downstairs for dinner some time later there was a distinct smell of smoke in the air, although probably not as powerful as when it originally happened, and a few of the lobby doors were propped open. I bet by the time I get back any trace of smoke will be gone, replaced with that absolutely welcoming scent of bacon, eggs, and sausage.

That's all for now. I'm sure tomorrow will have a whole new adventure for me.

Night One.

Yesterday I had the distinguished honor of staying up all night. The task would have been easy, save for waking up at eight in the morning and indulging in a day of airway travel. I made it to the airport at noon, and ended up at the hotel at eight thirty in the evening (nine thirty Lone Star time). If someone can give me a reason as to why we still have the Wright Amendment I would be grateful. I decided to visit Michaels before they closed - did I mention I forgot to bring something to do while I'm staying up the whole night - and had to choose between paint by number with paints that looked dry as the desert or a small cross-stitch pattern. I feel I chose wisely.

I also hit up tar-jey to pick up some dinner. While the hotel does offer complimentary breakfast and dinner, the latter ended at seven in the evening and therefore did me no good. And, this is the answer to the question why I did not go to a fast food place, I was craving vegetables. It must have been something about all that travel, but I wanted to eat a whole entertaining tray of veggies and dip. I ended up eating a deli sandwich that looked to have spinach, lettuce, tomato, cucumbers, and turkey on it. In addition, I picked up some steam-in-the-bag vegetable mix (my fancy hotel has a microwave in the room), and hummus and apples. I can't remember why I'm telling everything I bought. Oh, and I snuck some free utensils from the in-house Pizza Hut, because ain't no way I'm buying a whole box for a few meals.

The rest of the night was spent in cycles of stitching while watching television, nearly falling asleep with a pointy object in my hand, getting up to walk around the room and do silly walks to get my blood moving, and checking the time. As the hours wore on it became increasingly difficult to stay awake and stitch. I knew if I could just make it to six o'clock there would be a hot breakfast waiting for me downstairs. Somewhere around five, when I got really desperate, I took a shower and took a light walk around my floor. That bought me enough time and energy to stay awake until six. I can only imagine how haggard I looked compared to the business professionals loitering around in the lobby. Scrambled eggs and sausage gave me enough chutzpah to keep my lids open til seven thirty. I took the extra blanket and pillows and propped them up against the thankfully heavy curtains, blocking out any chance of sunlight peeking into my room. I laid my sleepy head down on a surprisingly comfortable hotel pillow and dreamt of pretty white lab coats.

I was woken to the sound of my phone ringing. My husband was calling to tell me there was an issue with my rental car. I debated whether to go back to sleep or retrieve the rental document from my car and give the company a ring. After choosing the first option and having no luck drifting back to dreamworld, I ventured under very sunny skies and obtained the paper I needed. A call to the rental company uncovered the issue - the sales girl had written part of the license plate in a black box on the carbon copied paper, and now the desk jockeys couldn't make out the plate numbers. Lucky for me, this call gave me just enough of a customer service headache to instigate instant sleep once I got back to bed.

My alarm rang at five in the evening; it felt much too early, even though I had slept all day. The free dinner had a salad bar and hot dogs, but that was fine with me. There were also free (and to some degree alcoholic) drinks, but I had left my drink punch card upstairs and I reasoned it would probably not be wise to imbibe then go to work. After some more stitching, I arrived at the facility at ten. I love working with someone new, and especially in a new place, because it gives me a chance to see how they do things differently, and if I can glean a more efficient way to do a task then all the better.

It did not get difficult to stay awake until around two in the morning. My partner then showed me the incredible coffe machine they have. I've never seen anything like it. It's a cross between a vending machine and a coffee pot. You select your coffee (free brew, not free lattes and mochas) then choose the strength, the amount of cream, and the amount of sugar. It even shoots a cup into place for you, then mixes everything together. I burnt my tongue just a little bit because it was just that delicious. I had two cups of glorious coffee and went back to work. Lunch for me consisted of water, a banana, and a granola bar. The rumors of not being particularly hungry on third shift were pretty much spot on. But believe you me, I was definitely ready for breakfast once I got back to the hotel at six thirty.

Right now, I'm waiting until the sun comes up a little more so I can get some vitamin D. It gets pretty cold at night 43 degrees) compared to the daytime (72 degrees). Until next time.

Faux-nix

It's the first time I'm flying Southwest. Usually I go with the larger and much more crowded international airport, but my tickets this time were courtesy of the big orange and red plane. There aren't as many people here, but that could be because it's the middle of the week and the middle of the day.  Without the thousands of people wandering about, I find that my trip is much less stressful. Thats not including the part where I'm preparing for third shift work in the short period of two days. The only other time I've been totally awake between the hours of midnight and eight in the morning was that one summer in college where I gradually pushed back my bedtime until I started waking up when the sun was going down. Unintentional though it was, at least I can recollect a time when I was entirely a night owl, and perhaps I can draw on that experience in the coming days.  There are some people at my work that transition from third shift to first shift on Saturday, then make the reverse trip back to their routine on Monday. So it is possible. 

Christmas caught me off guard this year. Actually, backing up two weeks, Thanksgiving snuck up on me rather stealthily as well. While I really love what I do, I hate that it makes the months go by so quickly. I feel like last week everyone was buzzing with pumpkin spice latte fever, but in a week and a half I'll be sitting in my parents' living room set upon pouring out my stocking and unwrapping gifts from under the tree. I wish I asked for paid leave the whole week of Christmas; now I'll be part of the skeleton crew that's covering for the several people who had the sense to take the week off. When did it happen that I had to plan to be with both sides of my family for the holidays? Sometimes I desperately wish to go back to the young days of wondering when school was back in session. When I had days of baking Christmas cookies with my Mom, all of us children helping to decorate the tree and hiding the chocolate ornaments in a place we were sure no one else could find, playing with our new games or reading our new books or fighting over the stereo player to listen to our new CD's. Nostalgia is always twenty-twenty. 

This Christmas, even if I only have the one day off to celebrate it, I will try not to cram all of my favorite things into one day as I have in the past few years. I used to be stressed out that I wasn't making all of the types of cookies, or that we didn't watch all of the ten or so Christmas films we used to watch, or that the tree is decorated just perfectly with every family heirloom ornament. What will be will be, and all that truly matters is I get to share Christmas with the ones I love. Because it really does only happen once a year. 

I suppose that's enough wandering for now. Only another hour until I get to take my four hour nap. I mean, flight. 

The Secret Garden.

I've been battling a bit of a cold this week, taking lots of sinus and cough medication and sleeping like I was Rip Van Winkle. I'm glad to be finally feeling well enough to do things around the house, and that includes posting the last couple days from our vacation.

Last week we spent a day at the Fort Worth Botanical Gardens. I found out how large the gardens actually were when we had walked for about two hours then looked at a map of the estate and saw that we had covered only ten percent of the grounds. By the time we were worn out I think we managed to see half of the whole gardens, but none of the Japanese Botanical Gardens. Next time, we're definitely hitting the Japanese side first.

The Pursuit of Science.

I had an absolutely amazing day yesterday with H. in downtown Dallas. I was going to try and split it into more than one post, but we've got some more fun stuff planned this week, so I might not get a chance to post for the next couple of days. So let's start at the beginning.

Kindness

It is amazing to me how much a smile to a stranger can make a difference in your interactions with that person. Take the lady who cleans the halls of the hospital, for instance - a lot of people think that she's a complete witch with a capital B. The first time that I walked by her, I smiled but got no response from her. Well, I got a blank stare, but it amounted to ignoring me when we're the only two people in the hallway. After a couple of run ins over the course of a month, she started smiling back, and now we say "Good morning" or "Hello" to each other. I would bet that if people at work would stop ignoring her or avoiding eye contact, they could become friends with the ice queen, too.

The lady who cleans up the bathrooms in the lab is another good example. As a side note, sometimes I can't believe what some women do in those stalls (I would really hate to see what state their homes are in). This woman goes in, fixes everything up, and even in that tiny space a lot of people ignore her. I try to say hi, or ask how her day is going, and not only does it kill the awkward moment between two people in a bathroom, but I feel it makes both of our days just a little bit brighter.

I hate it when I walk into the break room for lunch and everyone in the room acts like they can't see me. Like they don't hear the door open, or the refrigerator open, or the microwave going, or me eating. I can understand if they're getting some rest or listening to music, but when they're just sitting there for a half an hour it's almost rude. I'm not saying I want everyone to have an in-depth conversation with me the moment I walk through the door (and far be it from me to say I don't want some introvert time now and then), but some small form of acknowledgement would be appreciated.

Life is too short to pretend that other people don't exist. Maybe a smile would brighten their day just a tiny bit. Then they might decide to pass it on. Can you imagine what the world would be like if everyone was marginally nicer to each other? If we tried to build relationships with people in the real world the way that we do in Farmville, we'd be baking each other cupcakes and casseroles on a daily basis, I reckon.

Anyways. Someone posted this recipe on Facebook the other day, and I can't stop thinking it's the savory version of monkey bread. I'll leave you with this wonderful food image to daydream of. I can't be the only one that does that, right?

Garlic Cheese Pull-Apart Bread

Leafy Greens

We've recently learned about kale and all of its amazing health benefits, and over the last couple of weeks have been incorporating it into our meals. I made kale chips twice - once using an online recipe's recommended amount of oil (which ended up being way too much), and once with an oil reassessment. The second turned out ten times better than the first, and next time I might sprinkle parmesan cheese over the top and see what magic happens in the oven.

Kale is an excellent salad green. Its sturdy nature means it can withstand heavy dressings and multiple add-ins without wilting. Costco has a wonderful kale salad right now that my mother-in-law, Sweet E, got me hooked on. Kale and thinly sliced cabbage with pepitas (pumpkin seeds) and dried cranberries on top, plus an incredible poppyseed dressing. I was lucky enough to have it every day for lunch last week, and I loved it so much it's on this week's lunch menu as well. So refreshing, so very tasty.

Today I was feeling very lazy, but I wasn't in the mood to just pick something up. I needed a quick and easy yet veggie-friendly addition to the rotisserie chicken I had picked up this morning (oh rotisserie chicken, let me count the ways I love to eat thee). Then I remembered I had a bag of pre-washed, pre-cut kale in the fridge. Such a smart purchase on my part. Enter recipe for Sauteed Kale.

If you don't have a bag of prepared kale, don't worry. It's really easy to get it prepped. The main thing to remember is that the center stalks are pretty much inedible (unless you're planning on cooking them down to a manageable chew level), and all you have to do is either strip the leaves from the stems with your hands in one fell pull, or just cut the leaves off of the stem. Once this is done, tear the leaves into reasonable bite size pieces and submerge in a bowl of water to dislodge any dirt that might be on the leaves. Rinse, dry, and your kale is ready for use.

I saw some shallots at the store a couple of days ago and thought, "I wonder what those taste like." These little purple-red onion babies seem to be the sophisticated older sibling to the rustic red-white-yellow onion triplets. As far as I'm concerned, it's like an onion and a garlic cross pollinated to create this little guy. Maybe it's what I'm cooking, but in the end the shallots tasted exactly the same as a yellow onion. So if you don't keep shallots on hand, you're not missing out on much. Just dice up one of your onion triplets and get ready to throw it in a high-walled pot. In that pot (the high walls will come into play in a minute) drizzle some oil and about a half a tablespoon of butter. I find that even though an all oil composition would be healthiest, I really love the flavor butter adds, so I just 90%-10% the oil and butter and call it mostly healthy. Oh, and I've noticed you don't need all that much oil either. A surprisingly small amount can cover three to four cups of raw kale.

To that oil, add some red pepper flakes (a little goes a long way) and some thyme. I find that thyme really brings out the earthy nature of the kale, and while I don't use this particular herb all that much, it definitely works here. I also like to put some salt and pepper in now - this way I know that the salt is evenly distributed throughout the oil, and will therefore be evenly distributed across the kale. Throw in those shallots or onions, and let them cook just about all the way through. Quick fun fact: shallots lose their purple color as they cook. Once it's all gone, you're ready to put in that kale.

This is where those high walls make a difference. The higher the sides of the pot, the more delicious kale you can eat later. The picture above has a 5 quart pot and what the greens will look like before their cooked. Stir or fold the kale several times, or until the volume has noticeably decreased. Make sure every piece is covered with your flavor-packed oil, and that those shallots are evenly distributed as well.

This is what the greens will look like after everything is coated. The leaves are super shiny, and they have wilted to just about half their original volume. Give one of the leaves a taste, and see if it needs more salt, or if it needs to be steamed a little longer because it's still a little crunchy. Otherwise, you're all done. Pair with some kind of protein, or just eat as is - kale is surprisingly filling for being a vegetable.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is a super detailed recipe for Sauteed Kale. For the rest of the day, I'll be cheering for my fantasy football team which needs at least twenty more points if I'm going to beat my opponent for this week and have a perfect 3-0 record to start the fantasy football season. If Peyton Manning has another seven touchdown performance this week, I promise to eat lots of tasty kale for the rest of forever.

Back In The Saddle.

Did you know that the average person falls asleep in seven minutes? I hope those seven minutes don't happen for you right now. It would be really awkward to wake up and find that you didn't make it through this because it was just that boring. Plus I would feel incredibly jilted. So try to keep those eyelids open until you finish reading this incredibly exciting entry. Or at least for the next ten minutes.

So there was that really long time where I didn't write anything. And now that that's out of the way, I can move on to something of importance.

I have been learning so much about Indian culture from my coworker, Ina. At least, I've learned so much about her specific culture from her specific part of India. She told me the name of her hometown, and while I can't remember what the name of it was, she said it was a very small town that no one outside of the country has heard of. But if it's all the same to you, I'll just refer to it as India until I can remember which province or part of the country of India it is.

Ina was teaching me about signs of respect that younger persons will show or say to older persons to indicate that they acknowledge their wisdom and respect their years of experience. For instance, I could call her Inaben (EE-na-BEN) when I want to ask her a question about something I'm not sure of. Then, to be funny, Ina will say "Annaben, why did you do this thing?" when I do something out of the ordinary. That's when I know I'm in trouble.

She also said that instead of giving hugs to their elders, they touch the feet of their elders and described it as asking for blessings from them. I find that really interesting. Especially in American culture where young people hold nostalgia for their grandparents while at the same time brushing them off when it comes to life decisions because there's no way they could understand what they are going through in today's day and age. I mean, they can't even operate a computer, right? How could they give me advice about my future if they don't know what an iPhone is? Anyways, I really like the idea that elders are pillars of life in certain cultures.

Nearly every day this week I had a small snack at lunch that Ina gave me. The one that I liked the most was a dessert called laddu (la-DU). A quick search will bring up pictures of tiny yellow flour balls, but I haven't found anything that looks like the one Ina gave me. It was a darker cream color, and it was covered in crunch white poppy seeds. She was telling me the two main ingredients you need are butter and jaggery (JAG-ery, with the R rolled, as in the Spanish language). Jaggery is an Indian raw sugar similar in taste to brown sugar, but more like those cones of raw sugar you see in the Hispanic aisle at the grocery store. You take butter and sugar and put them in a pot on the stove at a very low heat, wait until it's good and melted, then add rice flour and let it cook for a long while to cook out the flour-y taste. Next you add your spices: cardamom, vanilla, almond, and a very tiny pinch of cinnamon. Mix that all together with some white poppy seeds, then set aside to come to room temperature. When it's still warm but able to handle, roll the dough into balls and roll through some white poppy seeds to coat. Then they're ready to eat.

I'm telling you guys, I think I have a cardamom addiction. I believe now that it is the one determining factor in chai teas that tips the scale for me. After graduating college I severely cut back on my Starbucks intake, which meant referring to store-bought tea bags to get my chai fix. After going through several brands, I finally landed on a white chai tea blend from Stash, and would bet you a hundred unicorns it has the greatest amount of cardamom. Ina said they sell cardamom whole at three pounds for ten dollars at the local Indian store. I wonder if it would be normal to see a pale white girl buying cardamom seeds and nothing else at the local Indian store. One day, I'll tell you how that goes.

I also had the pleasure of eating Indian flour tortillas - made from scratch dough with cumin seeds, celery seeds, and saffron that gets a piping hot deep fried bath for about a minute until it puffs up like a balloon. The result is a savory pumped up vessel for steamed and seasoned potatoes, and is delicious even when cold (which is how I ate it). Ina says she makes these tortillas every single day, which seems like a lot of work, but she's probably very good at it by now. I bet she could whip those things up in under five minutes.

Well, that's all for now. I can't promise all of the posts will be this long, or will happen every day, but I am making a pact with a few fellow bloggers to get back on the horse with this new-age journaling idea. See you next time for Cultures with Class.