This Relationship Life: Benefits

Now that I'm in a relationship, I get all the great benefits that come from having a devoted girlfriend. Someone to share new experiences, passions, dreams and other cheesy things with. Someone to give me a massage after lifting 5 times my weight at the gym. Someone to laugh with, or doze off on the couch with on a rainy day. But above all, someone with access to Costco.

More important than pudding, or watching a Mets game with me, I've realized what I was always looking for was a woman with membership to those sacred halls. I was in Costco once, with a former employer, and marveled at the great LCD TV deals they had: buy 4, get 2 free. However, I didn't fully get to appreciate the size of the store, or it's shopping carts, or the people inside, until recently. I saw a man with a double sized shopping cart filled past the brim, which isn't uncommon there. However, the entire cart was devoted to 50 giant-sized boxes of Instant Quaker Oats. Where else will you see dedication to healthy eating like this?

For me, Costco is all about the Skippy peanut butter deal. Two sixty four ounce jars for $8. They must be out their damned minds! Unfortunately, that only lasts me about two weeks, because I'm a glutton. That's fine though, because in two weeks, I can get another 5 pound bottle of honey for .20 cents an ounce less than the supermarket. Comparative shopping and buying in bulk are what keep me happy.

The Chosen Supermarket

For my Super Bowl party this year, I ran out of time and had to go somewhere close decided to try out Pomegranate, a fancy pants large Kosher grocery store written up in the New York Times. People had been espousing it's large selection and tasty produce. They failed to mention how the clientele are oblivious to the concept of spatial relationships, often standing three deep in an aisle so you can't walk past. So on the negative side there was general rudeness, but on the positive, I walked away with some red bananas.

Everything seemed a wash till I got home with the chicken wings, and realized there were feathers on them. Not just one or two tiny down fluffy feathers either, but big-ass feathers, the kind Thomas Jefferson might have dipped in ink before signing...things. These were eagle wings! Why would you sell chicken wings that aren't plucked? There's NO benefit to it, as far as I can tell. And I can tell pretty far.

Then it dawned on me: this might be why the world bears animosity towards you. Try plucking the feathers off wings, chosen people!

Thanksgiving Tales

For the second year in a row, due to bad timing, my family and I couldn't continue our old tradition of traveling to Medford, Massachusetts for Thanksgiving with my mom's entire family. Instead, we've begun a new tradition, eating turkey and traditional foods (screw marshmallow yams or whatever) at my parent's house with a guest or two. This year was Janet's turn, but I think she believed we were actually having a rodeo at the house instead. I made stuffed sweet dumpling squash, roast vegetables, stuffing and pumpkin pie. The stuffing was my crowning achievement, filled with all the normal deliciousness, made from scratch with sourdough bread, and included dried apricots, chestnuts and pine nuts. Start salivating!

My mom is all camera shy

My dad, on the other hand, is all about a camera

Fork and Knife

Recently, HD and I "hosted" an impromptu dinner party (note: impromptu "hosting" cause I sat around the apartment waiting for Shiva and Sharmilee and HD to show up with food and cook it for me). The food was excellent, and the best part was there was no pressure on me to use a fork and knife correctly. Which I can't. At all.

There, it's out in the open. Happy? I'm not at all good at eating with a fork and a knife. When I visit my parents, my sister, my whole family really, makes fun of and chastises me for picking up my food with my hands, kindly refreshing my memory that I DO have a fork and knife I can use. The truth is, I'd rather be thought of as rude or crude than incompetent.

For many years, I hadn't mastered the use of a spoon either. Having large hands, I'd hold it delicately, like an ogre would, shoveling everything into my craw. I was able to vote before I was able to properly eat soup, cereal or pudding.

I get technique envy whenever I go to a restaurant with classier people or an event, like a wedding. Watching HD and Sharmilee neatly cut their lamb shoulders, gracefully using the fork in their off hand and then deftly transferring the meat to their mouth made my own technique seem even poorer. I need to switch the fork from my left to my right hand before I can even attempt to shove the giant size bite into my mouth.

Whenever I go on dates, I stay away from any non-sandwiches or non-finger foods. It can be really tough to fight off temptation when I see a delicious looking half-chicken dish on the menu, or steak with really long noodles that need to be cut so they don't stick out of my mouth like a brontosaurus*. However, to keep my secret shortcomings (according to society, at least) a secret, I have to stick to a hamburger with extra onions, mushrooms, bacon, cheddar cheese and a liter of barbecue sauce. And make sure none of it drips down my face.


*which is what Pacey wanted to be when he was 8.